The Lady in the Tower
“She’s mad, you know.”
Kellen took another gulp of beer from his tankard, listening to the group of drunks at the table next to him with amusement. He’d only just stumbled into the town of Harritt that night, after he’d been separated from his party a few weeks earlier. He figured they took him for dead after he’d been blasted into an elemental plane. Most people wouldn’t have survived. My people, we survive. Kellen smiled wryly as he fingered the pouch of blood-soil at his throat and cocked his head to listen to the free entertainment.
“Mad? Whaddaya mean?”
“I mean — mad,” the first said in a hushed whisper. What would have been one to anyone but Kellen or another of his kind.
“There’s rumors, y’see,” another piped up, slurring his words. “They say she’s a witch, powerf’l, an’ arr’gant. They say she opened a port’l to an’ther w’rld and brought in a creature too h’rrid t’ name. An’ she’s trapp’d — trapp’d in her tower by her own damn magic.”
The first laughed, loud, and raised his tankard to the others. “Dinna I say she was mad?”
“What say we rescue the girl? Defeat the monster, take her, and her treasure!” The second grinned, the roaring fire near their table highlighting his scraggly brown hair and missing teeth.
The others burst into whoops and cheers. “Yes! Let’s! For honor and glory!”
Kellen couldn’t help but laugh. He stood from his chair and sauntered across to their table, leaning his hip against it. “I couldn’t help but overhear. You were being a touch loud. Rescue the witch, you say? And why do you think you can defeat this monster who’s kept her captive for years?”
The second glowered, eyes narrowed. “We’re warriors, man. We can take a monster.”
“Oh? Can you?” He moved his hip away from the table, lithe as a cat. “I’d make no such professions in your current state, if I were you. More than likely, the monster would fall on his ass, laughing at the whole bunch of you.”
“You insult us –” the first started to say, but the second cut him off with a roar, shoving his chair away from the table as he stood. He reached for his sword.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” Kellen kept his voice level and calm, looking over the three of them. He jerked his head towards the bouncer in the corner, who’d taken notice of them. “You know tavern rules about brawling. I’m just trying to have a civilized conversation and keep a bunch of drunks from losing their heads.”
The second man continued to glare, but took his hand away from his sword hilt. “It’s none of your business. We’re gonna rescue the girl.”
Kellen shook his head, drained his tankard, and slammed it down on the table. “You’ll die.”
“We won’t.” The first raised his chin, proud as a fully plumed peacock, and stood, shooting Kellen a hostile glare. “C’mon, boys, let’s go. We don’t need to stay here and be bothered by this trash. We have a monster to kill and a treasure to claim.”
The others stood with him, booming agreement, and stumbled towards the door.
Kellen stared after them for a moment. “Damn fools.” He sat back down and raised his tankard towards the barmaid. “Another beer, please!”
“Them boys’d always been trouble,” the bartender commented to Kellen when word came through. “Was only a matter of time before they pulled some damn fool stunt like this and got themselves killed.”
“What do you know of this woman they supposedly went off to save?” Kellen cocked his head to the side, leaning against the bar counter. “You hear all the stories in your profession.”
The bartender shrugged, wiping down a tankard. “Zarivkha Eldor took up residence in the tower some five years ago for magical study and research. She came to town rarely, and people avoided her. Magic’s not taboo in these parts, but there aren’t many who practice it. People got scared. Especially when she called up phantoms to guard her property and flaunted her talents. She never harmed anyone, so the Council didn’t do a damned thing, but — it didn’t make people like her any better.”
Kellen nodded. “Go on.”
“Then one day, Zarivkha called up something she couldn’t handle. A monster, a demon, from the outer planes. It’s kept her hostage for near on a year now. You can hear her screams from miles away every night. It tortures her. People’ve tried to save her — and died, just as those three did.”
Kellen snorted. “In the state those three left in, they’d have died trying to save a child from drowning.”
“Yes, however, many other able warriors have come through and tried to save the poor wench. And died for their troubles.” The older man squinted his eyes, leaning forward a mite. “I see that glimmer in your eyes, boy. You’re thinking about going after her, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be preposterous.” Kellen shook his long dark hair and took another drink. “What interest would I have in rescuing some witch who got herself into this trouble to begin with?”
The bartender shrugged again, finishing with the tankard and picking up another to clean. “The challenge. Everyone else has died attempting to save her. Would be a lot of glory for the one who managed to do it.”
“Mayhap so, but it seems to me that it’s far more likely that any who tried would simply die. And — I rather like living.”
The bartender threw back his head and laughed loud. He slapped his hand against the counter, trying to calm himself.
Kellen arched an eyebrow. “Did I say something funny, sir?”
“Living, eh? Yes, yes, I’d imagine you’d like living — done enough of it, haven’t you?” The man gave him a knowing glance.
What the hell? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He kept his face impassive as thoughts ran through his head. What does he know?
The bartender glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear and leaned forward. “Look. Boy. I’ve been in this business a long time. I’ve seen your kind before. I know what you are.”
Kellen’s heart skipped a beat. Or it would have, had it actually been beating. He fought to remain calm. “Oh? What do you think I am?”
“Don’t think you can fool me. You put on a damned good act, but you’re not human. I’ve watched you close since you came here. You don’t breathe — yes, you’ve forgotten a few times when excited, and when drunk — and you don’t die. And I’ve heard the local guards talking about the thieves they’ve found dead, throats slashed. Was you, weren’t it?”
He kept his gaze steady as he watched the bartender. “And what if it were?”
“Look, just so we’re straight here, I don’t care what you are. Anything that cuts down on the vermin is a good thing to have around in my book. But — if you’re a vampire — you could rescue Zarivkha and come out alive. I don’t think the witch’s monster is gonna have a cross on hand.”
Kellen snorted, lip quirked in a half-smile. “I wouldn’t believe all the vampire legends I heard if I were you, sir. I’m afraid crosses don’t do a damn bit of good on my kind.”
“Then you won’t have much to worry about, now, will you?” The bartender smiled.
Why do I get the feeling I’ve just been volunteered? “And why do you think I’m going to run off to rescue this witch?” Kellen kept his voice cool, calm, and collected as he sipped his beer, basking in the warmth of the firelight. “Do I look like a paladin? There’s naught in it for me.”
“Except honor and glory. And the gratitude of the witch. She’s being tortured, horribly –”
“Yes, yes, you’ve told me.” Kellen tapped his fingers on the bar. “She knew what she was getting herself into when she summoned creatures from another plane, and if she didn’t, then she’s a damn fool and can deal with the consequences.”
A trickle of sweat beaded on the bartender’s face. “Please — you’re the only one who possibly has any hope of rescuing her –”
Kellen sighed, looked skyward, and muttered a curse under his breath. “I’m a vampire, yes, but immortality doesn’t mean I can’t be killed. It’s just more difficult.”
“Still –”
“Also, why do you care? What importance is it to you if this witch remains imprisoned? If your honor insists that she cannot remain there and be tortured, go and die yourself, rather than sending others to their deaths. My honor is perfectly content to let her remain where she is.”
The bartender’s face softened a bit. “I — I loved her. I miss her, and I want her back.”
“Obviously she didn’t love you enough to protect herself from her work.”
He pursed his lips. “I know what you are. And you know what I am. I can arrange it so everyone knows that you’re a monster, an evil creature of the underworld who preys on child’s blood.”
Kellen appraised the man’s intent, looking him up and down. He’s serious. This isn’t a bluff.
“They’ll hunt you down like wolves after a deer.” The man’s voice came out in a low hiss. “Sure, it’s harder to kill you, but word’ll spread, and you can’t run forever.”
“No. I can’t.” Kellen drained his tankard and slammed it down in front of the bartender. “Very well. I will attempt to rescue her, but I expect to be paid in full when I return. And I name the price.”
He shot the man an icy stare, then stood and stalked away.
It didn’t take him that long to travel to the tower. Outside the town, late at night, he didn’t have to worry about being seen by the humans, and could walk at full vampiric speed. Before long, he’d reached the base of the tower and was circling it. There was only one door at the base, a heavy wooden door with magical inscriptions carved into it. Kellen tried to read them, but wasn’t familiar with this region’s magical language.
No matter. If she’s been trapped for a year, chances are her defenses have naturally decayed and aren’t as potent as they were when first erected. Kellen made a second circle of the perimeter, in case he’d missed something, touching the cool stone walls for signs of a secret passage. Nothing.
He shook his head in disgust. What kind of sorceress builds a tower without a back door? No matter how powerful you are, there’s always something more powerful out there, and it’s best to be prepared for such a confrontation, in which case you wouldn’t have energy to make a magical escape.
Kellen drew in his breath as he laid his palm against the wood door, which looked remarkably pristine for a tower that’d been attacked numerous times. Nothing happened. So he pushed inward, not using his full strength. It gave way with ease.
He stared in disbelief. She didn’t even bother to lock the bugger. Damned overconfident sorceress.
At that moment, a ball of flame shot out from inside the doors. Kellen moved out of its way deftly, but a human would have been caught in the blast. Hmm. Perhaps not as overconfident as I’d first assumed.
He waited a moment, pressed against the wall, before peering through the doorway again, prepared to jump back if anything came out at him. Nothing did.
Cautious, he stepped into the tower, laying one foot on the floor and waiting a second before stepping all the way into the tower. A winding staircase lay straight ahead, and candlelight danced off the walls around the first wind, as if something was fleeing … or coming closer. A shadow joined the candlelight, and Kellen’s hand shot to his sword’s hilt.
A woman, tall and lithe, appeared after a moment, her candle highlighting long red hair and her prominent facial features. Large, narrowed eyes, high cheekbones, full lips … he could tell why the bartender wanted her.
Second glance, he saw the reddened, blistered burns covering the exposed portions of her body. His eyebrows raised.
She put one hand on her hip. “I’d turn right around and leave, if I were you. Many have died already. You can be next.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be tied up?”
Zarivkha batted her eyelashes and half-smiled. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”
Before he fully realized what she was doing, she gathered an orb of flaming energy and flung it at him. Kellen tried to avoid the blow, but it was much harder in close quarters, and it caught his arm, singeing him.
“Bloody hell!” he swore.
“That can be arranged. Unless you’d prefer frozen or flaming?”
“I’ve a better idea.” Kellen spat the words, drawing his sword. “Why don’t you come back with me to the city so I can prove to everyone that you’re the real one behind the murders and all this rigmarole about a demon is pure nonsense?”
“Nonsense?” Zarivkha laughed, touching her hands to her face. “Where do you think these came from?”
“I don’t know, but I sure as hell don’t see a demon anywhere.” Kellen tensed, preparing to move where and if he had to.
She called back over her shoulder. “Tarivar, love, come here please. We have an … uninvited guest.”
Kellen forced himself to remain impassive as huge footsteps pounded against the stairwell. Light burst out from around the corner, flickering stronger than Zarivkha’s candle, which she blew out. Flames licked outward, and a great, hulking creature appeared, twice as large as Zarivkha, pyre flickering from its dark central body. It laid a burning hand on her shoulder and she squirmed under its touch. Dark eyes gleamed and it grinned, baring glittering obsidian teeth. “I see. Shall I … dispatch it?”
Kellen held up a hand, the one not holding the sword. “Please cease for a moment, before you go about dispatching people. I have a few questions.”
“What right do you have to ask questions?” the demon hissed, making a menacing step forward.
He shrugged. “None. But I’m going to ask them anyway.”
Zarivkha laughed, touching Tarivar’s arm. “Let him ask his questions. He’s got guts, unlike the other fools who’ve come.”
Kellen inclined his head. “Yes, milady. They’re inside my abdominal cavity, precisely where they belong.”
She made a wry smile. “Go on and ask, before I lose my patience.”
He drew in his breath. “Perhaps this is a mite forward of me, but are you and Tarivar here — romantically involved?”
“I’d think that was obvious.” Zarivkha leaned back against Tarivar and he put his arms around her, holding her close, hands brushing against her breasts. She didn’t seem to mind the pain of the fire; rather, quite the opposite.
“Once he’s asked his questions, may I kill him, mistress?”
“We’ll see.” She kissed his cheek and looked back to Kellen. “Is that all?”
He shook his head. “No. I have no interest in your personal life, milady, but do you realize that the bartender at the Singing Swan in Harritt has been sending young boys to their deaths in attempts of rescuing you?”
Zarivkha swore under her breath. “Giraldo! Damn him to the eighteen hells! And I thought they all were common thugs and thieves.”
“Some of them may have been. But — he’s been circulating rumors of a sorceress kept captive by a demon and has promised rewards of endless treasure in your tower if anyone can save her from its clutches.”
She hissed. “I refused Giraldo’s proposals of marriage on more than one occasion. Has he not yet realized that I don’t want him?”
“Apparently not, milady.” Kellen bowed his head, still holding his sword at the ready. “I wouldn’t be here of my own accord. As far as I was concerned, a sorceress who summoned a demon more powerful than she without precautions is a fool and should be left to suffer her own damned consequences. But Giraldo blackmailed me, threatened to reveal what I am to the entire town and set a witch hunt on me, if I did not attempt to rescue you.”
Zarivkha chuckled. “That would not surprise me of him. He was always a controlling ass, and as I haven’t left the tower for near on a year … What are you exactly, anyway, that is so feared? Certainly not another mage, I would have known that.”
“I’m a vampire, milady. I’ve dabbled a little in the magical arts of my people, but, no, I’m not a full mage.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “There are some who would consider you just as much a demon as Tarivar here. Well.” Zarivkha grinned up at Tarivar. “What say we go take care of a certain ex-lover of mine? It’s getting rather annoying having warriors burst in on us so often.”
Tarivar returned her wicked grin. “Blood is always good, mistress.”
“Yes.” Kellen sheathed his sword. “Blood is always good.”
They stepped past him. As they were leaving the tower, Zarivkha glanced over her shoulder at Kellen and winked at him. “Carry on with your prior business. We’ll take care of your problem bartender.”
Kellen walked out of the tower himself, and the door slammed closed behind him. In the distance, Tarivar swept Zarivkha into his arms and took to the air, flying towards Harritt.
He shook his head, muttering under his breath as he headed towards the road to follow his former party. “Someday, I’ll learn not to interfere in other people’s foolery. Someday.”
Posted by Nonny under Uncategorized