Everliving Kings (the Heroes of Darkness Saga) (17 page)

Robin tensed but still held the bowstring taught
.

“Consider yourself lucky
wolfshead; were it not for the Lady being present, you would be on your way to Nottingham in chains!” Gisbon boasted, ignoring the arrow leveled at his throat.

“And you would be going back in a box!” Robin replied. “You can thank the Lady Marion later
Sir Guy, were it not for her, you would already be dead!”

Scarlet waved for the men of
Sherwood to move back into the forest and slapped Robin on the shoulder. “Another time Robin!” he growled before backing into the trees.

Robin lowered his bow and locked eyes with the Lady Marion once more. “My apologies my Lady, but I am sure Sir Guy will guarantee your safety from here.
Won’t you Gisbon?”

Sir Guy frowned at Robert, but bowed his head towards the ladies, “I give you my word.”

With that, Robin turned and raced back into the thick forest.

22

Sheriff Brewer was surprised to find Lord Rathbone calling on him, the morning after his confrontation with his Risen daughter. Even more surprising was the fact Lord Rathbone invited the Sheriff to ride with him to his nearest estate to ‘show’ him something.

The
Lord led Sheriff Brewer on a tour of his huge estate as if he were actually proud of it, pointing out all the things one could love about such an estate, as if her were trying to sell it to him. Upon leading him down to the basement/wine cellar/ prison, Brewer began to have second thoughts about how safe he may actually be.

Lord
Rathbone felt the change in the Sheriff’s mood and put his hands up to calm his guest. “Sheriff, please, I assure you I mean you no harm, quite the opposite in fact. I…understand you are a man of ambition. You have seen I am a man of great wealth, I see no reason we can’t come to some kind of… let’s say, arrangement.”

Brewer nodded, now sure he knew where this meeting was going, “So you want me to betray her then?”

For a moment a flash of anger furrowed the large man’s brow, “That….let’s just say… you can be sure she will betray you. You must understand my Lord Sheriff; I have had many years of practice in dealing with her kind. It is clear you do not fully grasp the amount of danger you are in. I can understand if you feel the need to help an attractive young lady in danger, but that… is just an illusion. That thing is a monster, a devil in a pleasing shell, no more than that, do not let your eyes deceive you Brewer.”

Sheriff Brewer was one who preferred his dea
ling be done openly, even the underhanded and illegal ones, “So you are proposing, what, you will give me a much better deal than I got from her, is that right?”

Rathbone smiled at his straightforward a
pproach. “More than that Sheriff, I actually have found ways of controlling these creatures. Anya herself is a special case… she is the strongest of her kind…well, behind only the one who created her that is. That is why I have had such a hard time in dealing with her, things that work on lesser beings have no useful effect on her.”

“Useful effect?” Brewer interrupted.

Lord Rathbone nodded his head, “Unless you consider making her mad at you useful. That being said I found an item I had been looking for, for some time…this I know will work on her.”

The Sheriff let his eyebrows go up in surprise, “
Forgive me for asking my Lord, but if so, then why have you waited to use it? I would think you would be in a rush to use something you think may actually work.”

Once more
Lord Rathbone nodded his head, “True, but you must remember Anya is not the only Risen I have captured. There have been many experiments over the years and I have even created a loyal group of knights, called Inquisitors, who help me hunt down these foul beasts and destroy them. As for Anya… I don’t wish to destroy her. If I did I would have done so centuries ago, but I do still believe my daughter is still trapped in there somewhere. It was not her fault…all of those people she killed… it was that….that thing! That Risen or whatever it calls itself! I intend to rescue my daughter, make her human again.”

Sheriff Brewer frowned in thought before as
king, “Was she human to begin with? From what I understand you were never human, so at best she would have been half human, is that correct?”

Lord
Rathbone took a deep breath before answering, “Yes, you are correct. She was only ten when my brother… er…she had not shown any signs of needing blood to survive. It is possible she was full human, or she was better than both Elder and Human, like a fine bred war horse with the best of both lines.” He said, as a smile grew wide across his face.

“But she is not a war horse, she is your daughter.” The Sheriff added, snapping the
Lord back from his happy memories.

“Don’t you think I know that?
! I just think she may have a chance to reverse her plague!” he screamed as he slammed a nearby table with his fist.

The Sheriff knew his next words would be dangerous, but he felt he had to say it, “My
Lord…is she not already dead?”

Tears welled up in the
Lord’s eyes as he began to shake. “I don’t know. I know there was a man…an old man who she lived with for a time…that is when she aged, just as if she was alive! I sent men to capture them but they were fools and ended up killing the man. He did it somehow; he brought her back from the dead! Don’t you see how important this is? Not just for me but for the world! Just imagine what we could have had if Alexander were an Elder? My race is all but gone now…she was the hope for this world don’t you see?

My brother and I were the Eternal Kings, we ruled for almost forty thousand years! We had no wars, no famine….the people were safe and happy, we just needed a way to ensure the empire would last…She was the future, and that demon took her from me, f
rom all of us!”

“So have you been able to cure others?” Bre
wer asked now genuinely interested.

“What? Others? Why would I waste my time with curing infected humans?
What would be the point?” he shouted.

“Well, I would think that would be the first step in curing Anya. I mean
, if you knew for sure if that would even work, I would think it would make the lot of it easier.”

Rathbone took a deep breath as if he was g
oing to start screaming again, but instead nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, I suppose so, I… it is not something I had considered before. Let me show you what I have learned however.” He said as he pushed himself off of the table he had been leaning on, and marched down a darkened stone hallway.

At the end of the hallway was a series of stone arches with iron bars between them and the lone o
ccupant, of what the Sheriff knew to be cells. As they approached, the figure in the cage hissed and dove at the bars in a frenzied attempt to reach them. To the Sheriff, this creature looked as if it was at one time a man, but was now what must be a Risen; lost in what Anya had called the ‘madness’.

“Not to worry Brewer, it can’t get out of there. This is the true nature of the beast you are protec
ting. Look into the face of what Anya really is, what I am trying to drive from my daughter. This creature was captured just outside of Nottingham just the other day. Now you can see that she must have been sneaking out to feed on the locals while you thought she was locked safely away.”

The Sheriff could tell from the man’s clothes he was anything but a local but decided not to me
ntion it just yet.

“The demon witch is clever, that is why I do not take it personal that you have tried to help her. In fact, in an odd way I am grateful to you for wan
ting to help my daughter, and that is why I knew I could get you to help me.”

Brewer frowned at the pitiful creature that continued to snap its fang filled jaws and reach through the bars. “You want me to help you put her back in a cage?” he asked not at all liking the sound of it.

Rathbone smiled, “No, that won’t be necessary. I just want you to use a relic to control her. Just like this.” With that he reached into his pocket and produced a small round glass object on a chain. “This,” he said as he held the object up for the Sheriff to see, “is said to be the finger bone of John the Baptist. More likely it is a cow bone or a pig knuckle, but it has been worshiped as the genuine article in a small church in Judea for almost one thousand years. It has absorbed the prayers and faith of all of those pilgrims, for all of those centuries, so that now… it is a priceless artifact. All of the power it absorbed make as strong, if not stronger than the real thing. What do you think such a powerful relic of a revered saint could do to a creature born of evil?”

The
Lord turned his attention to his prisoner and held up the glass ball by the chain, “Back demon!” he shouted as he thrust his hand towards the creature.

To the Sheriff’s surprise the
Risen flew backwards as if struck by a runaway horse, and crashed into back wall of the cage, where it crumpled in a heap. “Is it…dead?” he asked, as the prisoner lay motionless.

“No, it will take far more than that to kill one of these things, but I wanted to give you a demo
nstration of what can be done against them, they are not all powerful.”

The Sheriff was horrified, “That is what you want me to do to Anya?”

Lord Rathbone chuckled at him, “No, if you tried with this thing, she would gut you like a fish. To control that one we need a far more powerful relic. While I was in Jerusalem I visited the Church of the Holy Sepulchre
,
do you know the place?”

Sheriff Brewer nodded,
“If my memory serves correctly, isn’t that the one built on the site of the Lord’s crucifixion, and burial?”

Lord
Rathbone nodded his head, “Yes, that one. It was built by the Emperor Constantine’s mother Helena in the second century. She was on a pilgrimage to find the lost sites of the bible from the life of Jesus. She was led to a spot that was supposed to be the Mount of Golgotha, where the execution took place. She hired a team of workers to dig the site and they found large wood beams. Naturally they assumed they had found the very cross Christ was crucified with. The wood was split into two pieces, one of which went to the Vatican in Rome; the other one became the relic the church was built around. That is the relic I want to use to control Anya with, that may have enough power to work. The legend says that three crosses were found at the site, and they placed each one in turn on the head of a young girl who had just died. When the True Cross touched her she awoke from the dead.”

“Are you sure that won’t kill her.” the Sheriff asked now sure he should not have agreed to come.

Lord Rathbone paused as he considered the question. “I don’t think it will. I don’t know for sure obviously, but I don’t think even that will kill her. Hold her, immobilize her, yes but kill her, I don’t think so.”

Brewer
frowned and spun his head back to confront Lord Rathbone, “But how did you obtain so rare an item as the True Cross? I doubt the Bishop of Jerusalem approved any request to borrow it.”

“You are quite right Sheriff, they would have never agreed to let me have it, so I killed the high priest and replaced it with a copy.” He said as if for
ecasting the weather.

“You what!” Brewer shouted in surprise.

“Oh, don’t act so shocked my friend. I have already told you I will do anything it takes to save my beloved daughter, and this is the best chance. The Druid will try first, but if he fails I will use the cross. Nothing and no one will stand in my way this time my Lord Sheriff. Do you understand me?”

Brewer paled as the threat sunk in, and he found his scheming had finally got the best of him; placing him squarely in the middle of a four tho
usand year old family feud. “Yes…I understand.”

Rathbone smiled from ear to ear, “Good, I am glad there is no need to use force here. Now, my
Lord Sheriff, I need you to tell me just what she was planning, and what she has promised you as your reward.”

23

Anya was standing outside of her door, when the Druid and the House servant reached the landing. She of course, had heard him from her rooms when he returned to the castle, got into another verbal sparring match with the inebriated Prince and then asked to be led to Anya’s door.

In truth, she was curious as to what he may have to say and any ideas he may have to ‘cure’ her. Anya was quite sure no cure was forthcoming from the Irishman, or anyone for that matter; after all dead is still dead. She was curious however if he may have some way of easing the hunger pains. If
this turned out to be so, than she may be able to spare Julnar at least some, of the agony she herself had suffered at the hands of this odd disease.

To protect Julnar for as long as possible, Anya had decided it was best if Rathbone and his wolves did not know she was there. True, Julnar had a
lready faced some of them in combat, but there was no way to know if those were the same wolves working with her father. Just to be safe, Anya was leaning on the stone wall with the door closed and her arms crossed, as she met her guest outside the room.

“
Welcome King of Ireland, how can I help you today?” she said with a smile as the shifter reached the door.

“Oh I beg yer pardon me Lady, ye needn’t
be so formal on my account. Shamus will do jus’ fine. I ner’ was one ta’ be leanin’ on titles. Truth is, it were I who was hopein’ ta be a helpin’ you. Dat is if ya don’t mind.” He said with a shrug and a smile.

“Yes, I am quite sure you want to help me. That is why you are with my father…the one who captured me and dragged me all the way to this gods-forsaken hole, so he can experiment on me again!” she shot back.

Shamus put his hands up to show he wanted no part of that conversation. “I am no here to do you ana’ harm. On that I give you my word.”

Anya had heard promises many times in her long lifespan, but she
could also feel the power behind his words and knew he meant it.

“Let’s go for a walk then.” She said as she waved a hand back down the stairs.

To the wolf-born King, the choice of being in a damp, cold man-made keep, or in fresh air, was an obvious one. He let her lead them outside in silence as he tried to think of where to begin.

“I know
, you an’ Laird Rathbone, have yer…well, differences, but I do believe he loves ya’ an’ wants ta’ ‘elp.” He said at last, trying to cut off any anger before it could begin.

“You are only doing this because of the pact, is that correct?” she asked, referring to the original deal Zog made with the shape-shifter Kings to try and stop his brother.

Shamus closed his eyes in frustration, knowing he had to answer truthfully if he wanted the chance to help her. “Aye….He did invoke the pact, but that is no why I’m here. There is somethin’ changing here an’ now, or you an’ I would no be here.”

Anya raised her eyebrows at his observation, but let him continue, rather than change the subject.

“I know ye have no reason ta’ trust me, but I am a druid, an’ I do think I can help ya’, well at least a little.”

Anya took a deep breath as the wolf-king went silent. Her response was a simple one word question, “How?”

Shamus stopped walking and smiled, “Well, I been thinking about that, I think the best thing would be to start with a walkabout, and see what we can find.”

Anya frowned in thought, “Walkabout? What does that mean?”

“It’s…ah, well a guided meditation.”

The
Risen let the surprise show in her voice, “Meditation? How do you plan on getting me to meditate? I am not even sure if I can.”

Once more the shifter smiled at her, “Aye, ye can, I will use an herbal mixture that will allow us to travel together.”

“You mean you are going to drug us into a meditation state? Well, that would be a new experience for me. How can you be so sure your drugs will work on a dead person?” she laughed.

At that Shamus looked around him as if ner
vous someone may be listening to them, “Oh…well I have used it on dead folks before. O’ course yer the first one I ever met who was still walkin’ around mind ye, but I have talked with lots of em’. With most o’ the dead ones we burn the herbs and blow the smoke up their noses, but I tink with you it will be easier ta’ make a tea.”

“Wait, what do you mean you can talk to the dead?” Anya asked now quite confused.

“Well, sometimes a person can get stuck tween here and Tyr Na Nog…. That’s what we call it. Anyway, if they get stuck o’ lost they can haunt a place. Dis can have real bad effects on da living, sickness, bad luck, even death. So my job, in those cases is to lead the spirit the rest of the way.” He finished with another shrug of his shoulders.

“And how is that supposed to help me? I don’t want to die, I don’t know anyone in your Tir mo Pog …heaven place.
” She grumbled.

Shamus smiled at her unintentional
Gaelic joke, “No, ye don’t have to, but in the mists of Anwen, that surround the place…there are gods, creatures, nature beings, all kinds o’ things that may be able to help. So I am asking you to let me tak’ ye to a place that is no a place, an’ a time that is no a time, there we may find you some help.”

At first, she thought he may have been joking from the way he defined it, but seeing the look on his face made her sure he had meant every word. “What would I need to do?” she asked using a careful tone.

The Druid patted a large blue leather pouch that hung on his belt, “I have everythin’ I need in here, I jus’ need you to decide if in ya’ want ta’ try it or no.”

Anya took another deep breath as she thought of the dangers any drug could be, but especially for her. If she lost control of the beast, there was no way to know when, or if she would re-gain the control she had fought so long to master. Now she needed to d
ecide if the danger was worth the risk. True, she had never attempted to use any kind of shamanic type technique before, but meditation, she was at least familiar with from her time in Asia; not that she was ever very successful at being able to meditate, but at least she understood the concept. “I have done some moving meditation exercises before….a long time ago. Do you think that may help? I am only concerned because I don’t want to lose control of the hunger.”

Shamus nodded in agreement, “Aye that would be a bad thing. Here,” he said as he reached into his blue pouch, “take this stone an’ hold it in yer left hand. It will help to keep ya in control o’ what you do.”

After handing her a deep blue stone, he led her deeper into the woods until they were out of sight of the castle. They found a small clearing with several downed trees, and sat down as Shamus began to make a fire. He unslung a cloth bag from his back and pulled out a small copper bowl with three feet welded to the bottom. He placed the bowl over the little fire and added herbs from his pouch and water from a skin bag.

Anya crunched up her nose at the smell of his home brew and said over a frown, “Are we really g
oing to drink that? It smells like awful feet!”

Shamus nodded his head in agreement, “Aye that would be the valerian root. I promise you won’t notice the taste at all.
”

“I can taste
it from here!” she complained.

The Druid ignored her objections as he added other herbs to the mix and mumbled his words of power under his breath.

“Wait! Was that mistletoe you just put in there? Are we supposed to die to go on this little trip of yours?” she asked, now not sure if the shifter was trying to kill himself. “You do know poison won’t work on me, don’t you?”

Shamus smiled and nodded, “Aye, but we call that herb the ‘heal all’. True ya need ta watch no ta take
too much, but it works.”

Anya nodded and shrugged thinking that if he wanted to poison himself, why should she stop him. Taking a
deep breath of the steam rising from the copper bowl sent a wave of relaxation over the Risen. “Wow, I guess that stuff works.” She mumbled as she enjoyed the sensations as only a Risen could.

Shamus pulled a two handled silver bowl out
of his pouch and poured the herbal mixture with a steady hand. He took the first sip before offering the bowl to Anya.

“Now, you are sure we can control this?” Anya asked as she took the bowl from him.

Shamus nodded his head, “Aye, not to worry. We will find what ere’ you need ta help ya. Just relax an’ let the herbs show you what you need ta see.”

With that Anya threw back the tea
with a grimace and waited.

The
Risen opened her eyes expecting something to feel or look different from the normal clearing of English Oaks they had sat down in, but was disappointed. “Hmmm…. Well that didn’t work.” She grumbled as she handed the silver bowl back to the Irishman.

Shamus let a smile spread across his face, “Are you sure? Where did you get that necklace from then?”

Anya frowned and looked down at the bluestone on a silver chain around her neck. “It’s the one you gave me to keep the beast in check.”

“No love.” Shamus smiled as he shook his head, “I handed you a bluestone, but it were not on a chain.
It worked, we are between the worlds now, do not wander off or you may no get back, understand?”

The
Vampire frowned but nodded her head in agreement. The fact that she could not tell where she was unnerved her in a way she had not felt for many centuries; that alone insured she was not about to let the Druid out of her sight. “What now?” she asked with a slight tremble to her voice.

Shamus stretched and took a deep breath b
efore standing and offering her his hand, “Let’s go for a walk in the woods.” When she hesitated to move he leaned over and tried to comfort her, “It’s alright my Lady, you will no lose control o’ yer beast, an just like home there is very little here that can harm you. So, are ye ready to find some answers?”

With that she took his offered hand and got back to her feet
. Looking around she could make out several wide paths through the trees around them. “What road do we take?” she asked.

“You decide my Lady, I am just the guide, you are the leader here.”

Anya turned around and looked down each leaf covered path in turn, two of them were black as night and made her skin crawl, but deep in her head she could hear a voice saying “That one!”

She was about to take a step in the direction of the darkest path when she felt a warmth on her back, the hair on her neck stood on end and she felt Goosebumps causing her to turn around and see what
was there. What she saw was the bright sun shining rays down through the trees, there were birds and animals flitting about and she could almost make out some kind of music. Just as she was about to take a step towards the bright path she heard a voice shout at her from behind her.

“Wait! What about me! Are you going to just leave me here in this dark place?”

Anya did not have to look to recognize that voice as her own when she was just ten years old. She turned back and to her horror saw herself standing there; a ten year old girl with her mouth and hands covered in blood, smiling a fang toothed smile.

“Come Anya, let’s play! There are some fat tasty farmers just up the road! We could play the waiting game!”

Anya shook her head, “No! I don’t do that anymore! I hunt to feed not for sport!” Anya felt a stab of hunger pain on her side, and around her neck the bluestone began to feel hot against her skin.

“Oh you are just saying that because we h
aven’t had anyone to play with in so long! I know you better than that Anya, I know you are hungry!”

With that another sharp pain doubled her over with a grunt.

“That poison you drank is working,” the young Anya giggled, “as it runs through your veins I grow stronger and you grow weaker.”

Another stabbing pain sent the
Risen to her knees.

“You know how this struggle always ends… you give in to me and the pain and we hunt together. Is that so bad? Look at all I have given
you; I have shown you a world you did not even know existed. I have given you eternal life…. Four thousand years of history have come and gone before our eyes and you still have your youth and beauty, have I asked for so much in return?”

Anya now knew the image of her ten year old
Vampire self was obviously the beast she had worked so hard to control. “You! You have made me do things I can never take back! Things I will always regret!” Anya shouted as tears flowed down her face.

“Oh, poor little girl. Did I hurt your feelings?
Don’t you understand you exist only because I allow it? You are dead. I remind you of that every night; you could not have forgotten it. What was that you said to Robert? Nothing is forgotten? Perhaps you are wrong. Now stop your sniveling and come with me, it is time to feed Anya.”

Once more a wave of pain shook her body causing her to shout out in agony. When she looked up, the little girl was right in front of her holding out her hand.

“Come with me or the pain will get worse.”

To prove the point
, once more Anya’s body shook from the pain of the hunger. She shouted in anguish and rolled from her knees to her side curled up in a ball.