Chapter. 48
Rahlan takes slow steps with his hands behind his back, his sword in its sheath, and his gaze over the weary humans.
The young girl is hugging her brother, keeping his head below her chin. A few others are holding hands and huddling up, as if they could save each other from being taken. I could’ve been just like them, herded out to the village center by giant vampire soldiers, praying they wouldn’t kill us and hoping that I wouldn’t be the one they picked to use as an example.
Rahlan stops pacing, drawing any eyes that had drifted to us back to him.
“Under the order of King Groel, I am the ruler of this fief. You may address me as Lord Rahlan.” He pauses, waiting to see if anyone will dare challenge him.
The villagers look to the ground as Rahlan’s gaze passes over them.
“You will have heard many rumors about my kind,” he says. The villagers in the front row shudder, possibly catching a glimpse of his fangs. “Rumors that we drain your blood until your bodies are still and dry, that our appetites dictate who lives and who does not.”
I had that fear when Rahlan first drank from me – that I’d fade into nothing with his teeth embedded in my neck.
“From our turbulent introduction, you may be inclined to believe those rumors. ‘Tis possible that you’d be more cooperative with such a threat. However, order in my land will not be based on fright but deference. I ask that you respect me, my commands and my men, and in return, we shall respect you. Obey and no one will lose their lives, no one will lose their homes, and no one will lose their dignity.”
I’m pleased, but I seem to be the only one. The villagers stay frozen, clinging to one another like they’re expecting to be dragged away and eaten.
“I understand that you may find that difficult to believe,” Rahlan continues, “Human’s living peacefully under vampires – preposterous. But consider that vampires have lived for generations before you, each consuming blood from plenty of humans. If we simply murdered, we would soon starve. Thousands of humans live content lives in our nation, and now that our nation has expanded, that will include you all.”
The villagers glance at each other, quiet whispers bouncing between them.
“Blood,” Rahlan says, drawing their frightened eyes back to him, “’Tis a topic most certainly on your mind. As you know, my men and I require blood for sustenance. Each day, we shall enter a home and take our fill. It will involve no more than a prick of your skin and minutes of your day. We shall take care not to endanger your health, and I’m told that it’s no worse than a slight sting.”
They don’t look particularly happy at that. I also hated having my blood drawn at first, but I’d be lying if I said it did anything more than drain a little energy. The thought that I was being served up as a commodity was the worst part about it.
“My first command is a curfew,” he continues, “Do not venture beyond the housing perimeter after dark. ‘Tis for your own protection, as I suspect a new danger may soon occupy the surrounding wilderness.”
The villagers look to one another. It has to be ravagers. We encountered them near the Gaultane river, and while it may have been close to the vampire border, it was still within my country. Rahlan said they were banished from their towns, but he didn’t seem too surprised to see them wandering about. I figure the normal vampires tend to leave them alone, and with no human lords to keep them out of our land, they’re moving in.
“As a precaution, one of my men will be stationed here each night,” he says. “This is a threat with which we have much experience warding off, and with your cooperation, we can assure your safety.”
My thoughts are drawn to the house at the end of the road. I can’t imagine a vampire like Keld offering any protection for humans.
Rahlan points to the castle. “If any of you, man or woman, old or young, have a matter that causes you great distress, seek me.” Finished with his announcements, he turns his back to the villagers and returns to the wagon.
They stand and slowly spread out, none of them daring to move any closer to the vampires. I rush to the young girl and her brother before they can disappear.
“Stay hidden until you’re sure that the vampire has left your house,” I say.
She bites her lip.
“Julia!” Rahlan calls from the wagon. He’s ready to leave.
I pat the girl on the shoulder and return to him. My bruised stomach groans as I climb up onto the driver’s seat. I wish I’d been wearing my armor.
The blond-haired vampire makes himself comfortable in the cavity behind us.
“Julke,” Rahlan says, catching his attention. “Keld’s recovering from an encounter with my boot. Please ensure he returns to the castle without endangering himself or others.”
So Keld can’t take his anger out on the villagers. Good.
“Of course.” Julke grabs his coat and hops out the wagon. “What did he do?”
Rahlan wraps an arm around me, sliding me to sit beside him. “He went further than an arrest.”
Julke smirks, “I warned the fool.” He leans against a house and crosses his arms. Two villagers which were headed for the building quickly change direction.
Rahlan tuts Mittens forward, and he tugs us back to the castle.
I squeeze out the blood-soaked rag over a bucket. I’m not cleaning Rahlan’s home for his sake, but for mine. It’s especially unnerving having to walk past the previous owner’s bloodstain every time I want to go outside. It doesn’t seem to bother Rahlan, but I suppose he sees it nothing more than spilled food.
He steps around me, carrying a stack of freshly chopped wood inside. That’s a task I don’t envy. Sometimes Jacob would be gone for longer than expected, then the wood he’d collected would run out, and I’d have to chop more myself. The bite of the axe would always make my hands ache.
He packs the wood in the fireplace. I dump the dirty water outside and quickly close the door behind me, hoping to keep the cold evening air out.
Soon the fire’s lit, and I’m digging through the kitchen cabinets in search of an evening snack.
“I collected a meal for you,” Rahlan says. He’s sitting on the couch, his gaze on the fire with one leg resting sideways over the other.
I place his bag on the counter and open it up. It’s full of leaves. Scratching around in them yields nothing but more leaves. There’s a smirk on the corner of his lips.
“Very funny,” I say.
He raises his hand from behind the couch, revealing a fresh pear.
I snatch the green fruit out of his hand before he has a chance to mess with me further. He appears unbothered, focused on his book.
I sit beside him on the couch and make quick work of the sweet fruit. That book looks suspiciously similar to the one he was reading to me last night.
I nudge closer to him to get a better look. I can’t interpret the words, but that’s definitely the same leather binding. “You’re reading ahead without me.”
“You fell asleep last time,” he says.
“I was tired.”
He raises an eyebrow. “And comfortable?”
My gaze jumps to the fire. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction, but it was comfortable laying on his lap.
He straightens his legs and lifts the book out of the way. I lay down on his lap without making eye contact. The orange flames warm my nose. If I lie on his lap, then he reads to me – that was the deal.
He opens the book again, the pages shearing over one another as he searches. “Do you remember the boat trip?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Harris’s race with his friend?”
“No.”
“The speech?”
“I think I was already gone.”
He chuckles. “You didn’t last long.”
I avoid meeting his gaze. Falling asleep on his lap is embarrassing enough, but the fact that I was so comfortable that it happened almost immediately is even worse.
“What about the dinner?” he asks.
“I remember that.”
“Then we’ll start there.” He turns a few pages. “Harris snuck through the kitchen to the dining room, eager to avoid his mother and any chores she may be looking to bestow upon him. The chair rumbled as he took his seat at the table, shattering any chance of trying to be covert.”
Rahlan rests his hand on my middle, his fingers absentmindedly caressing me as he reads. He’s near the bruise from Keld’s attack, but his touch is so light that it doesn’t cause any discomfort. A few weeks ago, I’d have been stiff from fear from being so close to him, the vampire soldier who kills with his sword, but now my body has no desire to move.
Rahlan turns the page before continuing, “’Harris get back here and serve!’ his mother shouted. He dragged his feet back to the kitchen.”
Rahlan may have been a little too ambitious of a lumberjack today. The fire’s too hot at this distance. I turn over to face his shirt instead, letting my hair shield me from the heat.
“’News of you and that girl better not reach my ear again,’ Harris’s father warned,” Rahlan reads, “Harris shifted in his seat. ‘I bet he’s eager to make the beast with two backs,’ his sister chimed in, earning a scowl from the rest of the table.”
“What’s a beast with two backs?” I ask, looking up at Rahlan.
He places the book on the armrest. “You must’ve been raised by monks,” he says.
“Why? What is it?”
He raises one hand, “Imagine this is Harris.”
I nod.
He lifts his other hand, “and this is the princess.” His hands snap together as if he was praying. “Two backs.”
“Right,” I squeak, averting my eyes and pulling my dress up to my nose. If my cheeks weren’t red before, they are now.
He chuckles and picks up the book again. “His sister was always out to get him in trouble.”