Chapter VI

~ Love and Bravery: Foolish Things? ~

Most of the intense battles were to the west near the Baltic towns of Riga, Daunamunde, and Narva. The Swedish army fought hard to push Augustus out of Livonia, only to face combined Polish and German armies as they pushed southward. The push into the interior cost thousands of lives and little ground switched alliances. Even after King Charles had displayed great military prowess in the victory at Narva, his generals began to make costly mistakes—mistakes that turned the tide of war. King Charles couldn’t have known, but his decision to rescue Crimson might have cost Sweden the war.

Viktor and his men found the ride along the Daugava River without incident. The few soldiers that appeared along the river were easily avoided, but another snowstorm had set in. Snow flurries, again. At dusk, the wind shifted to the south and blew snow directly into their eyes. Victor did not want to stop. He wanted to push forward, but the wind grew stronger and forced them to seek shelter among a thicket of trees near the riverbank.

“We shall camp here tonight,” Viktor said. “We’ll rest and make our way toward the king and his men in the morning.”

“Viktor, do you know where the king and his men are?” a younger man asked.

“Yes, another day of travel, I suspect, to reach the fortress of Polotsk. The king will be near the town of Koknese. We’re close, so close. We’ll sleep in rotation this night. I’ll take first guard.”

Soon, Viktor’s men were asleep near a bustling fire and Viktor walked the perimeter of the camp. He sensed it at first, that feeling of being watched. He purposely made sudden turns in hopes of catching the onlooker behind him. Then he heard movement in the bow of a tree. Just as he raised his torch, Sena was in front of him and pinned him to the trunk of the tree. Light snow fell around her from where she leapt from the branch above and in the backlight of the campfire, it made her look like an angel.

Sena didn’t say a word as she cupped her hand over Viktor’s mouth. She had more strength than Viktor and easily tilted his head to the right where she found the shape of Cygnus on the left side of his left neck. Viktor struggled against her, but it was useless. Then she peeled open his coat and shirt to find a crescent moon birthmark on his right collarbone.

“You are Prince Viktor, yes?” Sena asked in a whisper in Viktor’s ear.

Viktor nodded and mumbled under her cupped hand. Fear ran through him and set every nerve on fire. He closed his eyes and thoughts of death stabbed him in the gut. Was she a scorned sister of Caspian seeking revenge? Did he and his men travel all this distance to be so close and have it all taken away at the hands of a crafty female vampire? He struggled again, but Sena easily thwarted every attempt he made to escape her grasp.

“And you are seeking Crimson?” Sena asked as she leaned in and sniffed him. She could smell his fear and it made her heart pound.

Viktor’s eyes opened wide. He shook his head yes and mumbled, “Yes, yes. I’m searching for Crimson.”

Sena held him in place for several seconds and then slowly backed away. “So you’re the prince Crimson speaks of? I’m Sena. Crimson has sent me to find you.”

Viktor’s first instinct was to attack the creature and he eyed the pike that lay near his feet. “You know of Crimson? I doubt it,” he said as he gently knelt to grab the weapon. “Crimson would not befriend a vampire.”

Sena smiled and Viktor’s motion toward the weapon slowed when he saw her fangs. “Touch that pike and I will have no choice but to harm you,” Sena cautioned, and Viktor stopped in mid movement. “You have no idea what Crimson is capable of, young prince. Rest assured, Crimson and I are friends and I’m here to guide you to her.”

“Why should I trust you?” Viktor asked, still eyeing the pike.

“Simple, Viktor. Because I’m the best hope you have.”

Viktor fell to the seat of his pants and folded his arms across his knees. “Is she okay?”

Sena sensed the concern in his voice. “She is,” Sena said as she sat down in front of him. “She’s Tor’s concubine in Kiev. But she waits for you, Viktor. She waits for your rescue.”

“Kiev? I thought she was in Minsk.”

“No, Gaten is most likely in Minsk, but he is not your concern. Your love is in Kiev.”

“What of this Kieran?”

“He, my young prince, is further south still. If your intention is revenge, then you and Crimson will surely be killed. Or worse yet, you will be killed and Crimson will forever be in captivity.” Sena stood and peeled a large piece of bark from a nearby birch tree. She found a dark rock and began mapping out the location of Tor’s palace on the white skin of the bark.

“Why are you helping me?” Viktor asked as he watched her.

“I’m not sure that I’m helping you. I think I’m helping Crimson.”

Viktor swallowed hard and asked, “Has she been … Sena, has she been used?”

Sena stopped drawing the map and met Viktor’s eyes. “If that matters, then you should return to Sweden.” She waited for a response and when none came, she pressed, “Does it matter?”

Sena heard him first, the young man of Viktor’s party sneaking up behind her. Then she could smell him. She waited and when he had the pike mere inches from her back, she swiftly turned and snapped the pike in two. In an instant, she had his face pushed deep into the snow. Her instincts kicked in and she had to fight it to avoid ripping at his exposed neck.

It happened so fast that Viktor didn’t even notice until he saw Sena move so quickly that she was a blur in a swirl of disturbed snow and splintered wood.

“No!” Viktor screamed as the snow settled. “Don’t harm him.”

Sena growled. “Does it matter, Viktor?”

“It does not. I love Crimson no matter what.”

“Are you sure?” Sena demanded.

“I am, Sena. She’s my love, and my love has deepened since she slipped away.”

Sena released the young man, but kept her knee in his back. “Very well, we have work to do. We shall test the depths of your love, Viktor. We shall parade your affection through hell and see if it’s strong enough to survive.”

Viktor stood and collected his pike. “Release him. I’m ready to rescue my girl.”

* * * *

Later the next morning, Kieran and Caspian arrived at Tor’s palace at the request of Tor’s dispatched letter. The letter didn’t allude to the fact that one captive was dead, one had turned, one had run away, and one was in a deep sleep near death. Kieran grasped Tor’s elbow and led him toward the courtyard.

“This is a mess. Which servant escaped?” Kieran asked Tor.

“Sergen, the big one. He has taken my daughter with him.”

“When?”

“Sometime during this last night. I checked the stables before you arrived. They left on horseback.”

“I see. I will have Caspian search for your escapee and your daughter. Sergen is not from this area, so he will follow your daughter’s lead. Where might she go?”

Tor thought for a moment. “I doubt she would head north—too much war and she knows the danger. She would head south toward Odessa.”

“Very well. I would like to see your daughter’s bedroom,” Kieran said as he and Tor walked back into the main foyer. “Caspian!” Kieran shouted.

Caspian appeared as a silent mist and he startled Tor. “Yes, my brother.”

“I’ve told you not to do that around the mortals. Follow me. I have a mission for you.”

Kieran immediately recognized Crimson. She lay on Darya’s bed, her breaths were shallow and her stomach barely rose. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and closed his eyes. He had thought of Crimson, but not like this. She looked helpless. “She’s alive, but just. What happened?”

“I think she poisoned herself with the yew tree,” Tor answered from the doorway.

Kieran released her arm, leaned in and smelled her breath. “Yes, the sweetness on her breath confirms your suspicion. Instruct your caretakers to flush her with fluids. She may make it.” Kieran then went to the chair next to the bed and picked up a nightgown. “Is this your daughter’s?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Kieran motioned for Caspian and gave him the gown. “This is his daughter’s scent. She’s heading south and using gold and silver as trade. Find her and the escapee she ran off with.”

Caspian brought Darya’s nightgown to his nose and inhaled her scent. He smiled as he inhaled her sweat and bath oils. “Smells like honey,” he said under his breath.

Kieran recognized Caspian’s crazed look. He grabbed Caspian by the arm. “And Caspian, she is not to be harmed, am I understood? Not a scratch. Not even a kiss or a careless touch.”

Caspian sulked. “Yes, and the escapee?”

“Do what you must.”

Caspian relished the thought, took one final inhale of the nightgown, and faded into a fog that moved toward the window where he disappeared.

“You’ll have to excuse my brother,” Kieran said. “He’s a bit of a show off. He doesn’t understand the business of our family.”

“Will he find my daughter?” Tor asked.

“He already has,” Kieran responded as he walked back toward Crimson. “He already has.”

“Then no apology needed,” Tor said as he exited the room.

* * * *

Caspian easily found the scent of Darya outside the palace and covered ground with amazing speed. As he got closer to her, the scent became fresher and stronger, almost pulling him toward her.

Two towns to the south, her scent literally emptied out of an inn and although it was strong, it mixed with the other humans in the inn and the nearby tavern, which made it difficult to pinpoint her location.

His first thought was to slip into the Inn as a mist, and then suddenly appear among the crowd and scare everyone off, but he thought better of it. Scents linger. He pushed open the door and walked up to the innkeeper who was cleaning his desk. “I’m looking for a young girl?”

“You’re in the wrong place. You want the bordello down the street.”

Caspian forced himself not to smile. “No, a young girl and a large man are here. They would’ve paid in gold or silver.”

“I see,” the innkeeper coyly replied. “Is she yours?”

“Yes,” Caspian lied.

“Too bad. Very pretty maiden and the man she’s with is far bigger than you, far stronger, too.”

“Let me worry about that,” Caspian said with a tinge of anger.

“Are you a fool?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” the innkeeper mumbled. “Normally, I wouldn’t give out such information, but since you’re not a fool and only a fool would approach that man, then no harm.” A sneer of delight stretched across the innkeeper’s face. “They’re upstairs in room three.”

Caspian reached into his pocket and flipped the innkeeper a copper coin. “Wait here, old man. I’ll be back down with the girl in no time.”

“Young man …”

“Yes?”

“Room three is called the lover’s room.” The innkeeper laughed out loud and returned to his chore of cleaning his desk.

Caspian found room three upstairs and stood outside the doorway. When he was sure no one was looking, he turned to mist and slipped under the door. On the other side, he wandered to the corner of the room and retook his normal form. He saw Darya lying in bed. She was asleep with the bed covers only covering her legs. Her breasts were exposed and her breaths were deep and content.

Caspian walked to the side of the bed, where he stood over her and admired her beauty. He leaned toward her, took in her scent with a deep inhale, and noticed the satchel of gold and silver on the floor. He was certain that he had found his mark.

Just then, Sergen entered the room holding apples and pears and saw the stranger standing over Darya. He dropped the fruit, rushed Caspian, and caught him off guard. The two tumbled over Darya and crashed into the wall on the other side of the bed.

Darya awakened. It took a moment or two for her to realize what was happening and then she let out a blood-curdling scream. Sergen had Caspian pinned to the floor and as long as Caspian was in the grasp of another, he couldn’t turn to mist. Caspian struggled to escape, but Sergen would not let go and Caspian took two heavy blows to the side of his face. The first punch broke Caspian’s nose. The second punch was perfectly placed and knocked him out.

There were pounds at the door and Sergen yelled to Darya, “Don’t answer that door!” He ripped the curtain from the window with plans to use the fabric to tie the stranger’s hands, but when the sunlight landed on the stranger’s exposed skin, its skin bubbled and scorched and filled the room with a smell of burning flesh.

“I need a stake!” Sergen yelled.

“A stake?” Darya asked as she pressed her back against the headboard. Everything was happening so fast that she didn’t know how to react.

“This is no man. He’s a shadow!” Sergen shouted. Sergen grabbed the bedpost, it wasn’t sharpened, but it would have to do. He ripped the bedpost from the frame and let the bed collapse to the floor. He stood over the stranger, held the wooded stake above his head, and rammed down with such force that the stake went through Caspian’s chest and embedded in the wooden timber floor beneath.

Darya screamed again. Then everything was quiet. All she could hear was Sergen’s heavy breathing. She peered over the edge of the bed to look at the body. “Is he dead?”

“Yes,” Sergen responded as he sat on the edge of the collapsed bed.

“Who was he?”

“A hunter from the auction house. We mustn’t move south anymore. We should head west toward France. Get dressed.”

Darya inched toward Sergen from behind and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. She kissed him on the back of the neck. “France,” she whispered. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She reached between his legs. “Are you sure you want me to get dressed?”

Sergen stood and made his way to the door. He opened it and scared the other patrons away. He returned to Darya, kissed her full on the mouth, and said, “France isn’t going anywhere, but let’s at least get another room.”

Sergen went downstairs and found the innkeeper all smiles. “I require another room.”

“Of course,” the innkeeper said. “I told him not to mess with you.”

Sergen grasped the innkeeper’s throat and pulled him closer, almost lifting him off his feet. “If another looks for me and I even have the sense that you gave information, I will kill you. Am I understood?”

The innkeeper could only nod. Sergen let him go and the innkeeper fell into his chair. He rubbed his throat and coughed out, “Pick any room. I don’t want to know which one.”

Sergen and Darya went to a nearby room where they made love. When they were leaving the inn, Sergen made it a point to state they were heading north within earshot of the innkeeper.

Outside, Darya asked, “North? I thought we were heading to France, my love?”

Sergen smiled and lifted her onto her horse. “We are.”