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Chapter. 25

We head to the town center, passing the stage and pillory. It has no victim today, but it’s still littered with mud and rotten food. The vampires go about their day, none even glancing in my direction. Maybe they don’t recognize me without the mud.

We pass the stage and enter a shop. The ceiling is almost twice the height I expected, and the walls are lined with leather garments. Some are decorated with metal strips and others with fur. There’s even a small collection of daggers in the corner.

“I wish to purchase a fitted suit of heavy hide armor,” Rahlan says to the vampire shopkeeper.

The garments hung on the wall are thick, with many layers of leather sewn together. I want to reach out and feel their texture, but being a little human captive, I don’t think I’m allowed.

Both sets of eyes land on me, and Rahlan signals to come closer.

I cautiously approach. What did I do?

The shopkeeper wraps a measuring tape around my middle, and I tense. It’s especially nerve-racking when a vampire that’s not Rahlan puts their hands on me. One of them is more than enough.

His tape wraps around my midriff, then my waist and my chest. He checks the length of my legs, my arms, and the width of my shoulders.

Satisfied with my measurements, the shopkeeper picks a pair of brown leather pants and tunic off the wall. He lays them out on a large table and draws his knife along the tunic’s side. The tape is stretched out as he makes a series of marks along its edge, then the cut is sewn closed, with the material overlaid to make it smaller.

“You’re buying me armor?” I whisper to Rahlan, puzzled.

“I stated that I prefer you alive, and today we embark on the campaign.”

I gulp. “You’re-you’re riding with me into battle?” I didn’t think he’d go so far as to drag me into the fray, especially against my own people.

The shopkeeper hands the finished items to Rahlan, who then drops them in my arms. All eyes are on me again, urging me to do something.

I grab a long linen offcut from the desk and slide into a little nook out of their view. Ditching the nightgown, I tear the linen in half and wrap it around myself to act as a crude bra and underwear.

The pants stick tight to my skin as I pull them up. They’re composed of alternating layers of leather and wool. The tunic hugs my middle and is heavy on my shoulders, but it has an inner woolen lining to keep me snug.

I wobble back into their view, not yet used to the stiff pants.

“Perfect,” Rahlan says.

“It’s much heavier than yours?” I say confused, thinking back to the time I spent wearing his coat.

“You’re softer than me. You need the extra protection.”

“I bet I could protect myself even better with one of those.” I point to the shelf stacked with knives.

He chuckles and hands me a pair of boots. They’re large and heavy, reminding me of his own. I slip off my thin homemade shoes and step into them.

Rahlan pays the shopkeeper with a couple of the glass pieces from his bag, and we head back out to the street.

We pass many vampires and the occasional human slave. I keep my eyes peeled in hopes of spotting someone I know. Not that I’d wish this fate upon others, but a familiar face would make me feel less isolated in this foreign land.

We stop at a stable, and Rahlan inspects the horses on display. He ignores all but the destriers, horses bred for war. He settles on a stallion with a black coat, just like the one he owned before, except for its white feet.

He rests his hand on the bridge of the stallion’s nose. It lets out a breath, making his high collar flutter.

“I’ll take this one,” Rahlan says to the stable master.

“He’s fifteen Prymni,” the stable master says.

Rahlan picks out the glass ornaments from his bag and hands them over. He leads the horse by the reins onto the street and straps his bag to its side. I’m grateful that I won’t have to carry that thing anymore.

I slip the biscuit tin in his bag, and he gives me an odd look.

“I’m saving it for later,” I say.

He climbs on the saddle, and I have to crane my neck back even further to meet his gaze. I don’t know what Neil and his companions were thinking going up in arms against this man.

He offers me a hand. I take it, and he pulls me up on the horse. I’m seated right in front of him, imprisoned between his arms. He has no trouble seeing over my head.

My fingers lock around the edge of the saddle, and I watch the horse’s huge muscles move as Rahlan steers it towards the city gate.

“What are you naming him?” I ask.

“I have yet to decide,” he says.

“What about Mittens?”

He almost chokes at my suggestion.

“What? It’s a cute name.”

“Yes.” He clears his throat.

We leave through the huge gate we entered just two days ago. Even on horseback, I don’t even reach a quarter of the way to the top.

My body tenses at the sight outside the city. There’s at least a hundred, no, two hundred vampires. Each of them is dressed in either leather or fur armor. They’re tending to horses, loading supplies, and sharpening their swords. I’ve never seen so many of them in one place, and I don’t like it.

Rahlan notices me stiffen. “Looking forward to reuniting with your friend?”

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