The Blood Duchess

The realm of Vymenia is host to terrible tyrants, dishonorable kings, scorned queens and everything in between. Some of us happen to have fangs. From their citadels they fear us, from their lips they curse us, and amidst these wildlands they hunt us. Tonight we hunt back. The Rhumdric Kingdom’s caravan left the mining village at noon but travel is slow when hauling stones and precious metals. We follow in their shadow until they camp, and they’ll camp soon. It is dusk now, and the last stubborn shreds of sunlight are finally fading behind the world. “Yyrdra, I think it’s time,” my fellow dark huntress named Akisma said to me, eager to strike based upon her anxious hands, fiddling with stray strands in her black braid. “We wait until they fall asleep. I find dormant blood to be sweeter,” I replied and ran my tongue over my fangs with my mouth closed. Another hunter voiced his opposition and replied, “I think it’s drier. They need to be awake, alert and scared enough to s**t themselves for it to be a proper feeding.” “To each their own, but we wait. They have crossbowmen and outnumber us two to one,” I reminded as I adjusted the straps on my leather armor covering my torso. It won’t stop a crossbow bolt and these could be silver-tipped, but it’s better than nothing. Akisma knelt next to a boulder and stared at the drovers and guards with thirst. She’s four years younger at twenty-four while I am twenty-eight. Like me, she’s one of the few huntresses born a vampire rather than turned. Many of our warriors are turned in combat and ascended afterwards if they survive. As the time drew closer to midnight, I studied the enemy’s watch patterns. There were none. They wandered aimlessly until it was someone else’s turn to keep an eye on the night and that which lurks within it. I turned to my squad of warriors consisting of eight others and asked, “Are we ready?” “Yes.” “Quite ready.” “Are we thirsty?” I asked. “My veins feel empty, Yyrdra,” one of my most elite hunters named Hendron said to me. He’s a strong and fast warrior who used to be a knight in a previous life. His chivalry, combat skills, and suave stayed with him through his evolutions. “Then perhaps you’re unfit for combat and should remain behind,” I joked as I peered around our cover consisting of shrubs and stones. “Never,” he growled, showing fangs double the size of mine. “Scatter, cover each other and neutralize anyone with a ranged weapon first,” I ordered and pointed with my index and middle fingers to signal the attack. I ran over the uneven grassland towards the enemy camp where men slept sound and others walked around their fires. The three wagons remained in a row and the guards surely wandered with justified worry. I pulled my black blade from its scabbard and gripped the leather wrapping tight out of habit. Hendron made first contact, slicing a Rhumdric guard’s neck and throwing him aside. Then I pounced on a crossbowman who heard the disturbance. He barely made a squeal before my blade and teeth sunk into his neck, releasing the crimson gold we so crave. They spotted Akisma though and shouted to their camp, “Vampires! We’re under attack!” “To arms!” I pulled my fangs and blade from the man’s flesh and sprinted to a soldier withdrawing his heater shield and spear from a wagon. The spear stayed clogged inside the wagon on something and I barreled into his shield, forcing him to lose balance. I sliced the shield twice before realizing his legs remained undefended. He shouted at me with angered words that I could not decipher while the raid raged in the background. My blade found his shin and ankle and the pain diminished his defenses. I knelt on top of him and put a swift end to his enlistment period. To my right, a crossbowman appeared from behind the wagon and took aim at me. I grabbed the shield from under my knees and fell back with it. A metal tipped bolt pierced the shield but remained lodged between the planks to taunt me. Knowing they reload slowly, I threw the shield aside and faced the crossbowman head on. A campfire’s light showed me the fear on his face as he backed away fumbling with the bolts in his waistband quiver. Several violent struggles happened in my peripheral vision, but the man was my meal and I could hear his pulse through the bedlam. I could feel him vibrating against his chainmail. Bum-bum. “Are you going to turn him?” Akisma asked with a laugh off to my left. Her chest heaved from the fatigue of the melee, and human blood soaked her chin. Bum-bum. “Depends how good he tastes,” I replied. Bum-bum, bum-bum. “You f*****g monsters will all burn in the daylight!” the Rhumdric human growled. I lunged forward and sliced the string on his crossbow to render it useless. He grabbed a bolt, coincidentally shaped like a stake, and tried to drive it into my chest! I dodged the attack and pushed him aside. “Won’t you burn with us?” I asked, toying with his wits. The middle-aged man saw his brethren dead on the ground with their blood depleting from their veins as we spoke. My kinsmen went from body to body to feed, and Akisma watched me toy with the last survivor. “I’d rather slit my own neck than allow your fangs the pleasure,” he threatened. “Then do it. I can still drink it,” I laughed. He pulled a knife from his belt and put it towards his neck as Akisma said, “He won’t.” “He won’t,” I echoed and stepped forward. “You don’t have to die tonight. Do you have a family?” The knife hovered just a hair from his neck but he remained still while he contemplated how to answer. The lonely crossbowman without a crossbow replied, “My wife is with child.” I felt the grip on my sword loosen but it happened subconsciously. I couldn’t explain it at all. “Then if you survive your transformation, you’ll have the privilege of returning to her and converting her to the cause,” Akisma smiled. “No, no!” he growled and pressed the knife against his skin, drawing blood. I raced towards him and pulled the knife away before he could slit any critical veins. I kicked him down and shouted, “Consider my mercy a warning to your people. Tell them that silver day-staking must stop! It is a cruel and slow torture that will be met with violence should it continue!” He looked horrified and reached for his neck to find blood staining his hands and clothes. “Tell them that, okay!” I shouted again and stabbed the knife into the ground for emphasis. He nodded with a horrified expression. The blood covering both our hands became irresistible so I forced him to his feet and shoved him off into the night. I walked towards my blade in the dirt while licking my fingers and Akisma said, “Looked like a healthy meal to me.” “Have you seen silver day stakings, Akisma?” I asked and stowed my blade in its sheath. She shook her head and folded her arms. “They bind us to a tall, thick stake under a canopy filled with holes so the sun hits us unevenly, extending the duration of the torture. They put our legs in a bucket of water filled with silver ore, and the people laugh and watch as we burn on the outside and in,” I described while walking to one of the wagons. Hendron marched over and said, “Best not to get captured alive, Akisma.” She nodded and asked me, “Did you feed tonight, Yyrdra?” “No, barely. Who’s left?” Hendron walked over to a body, kicked his thigh and said, “This one has more inside of him. I don’t think he’s surviving through it.” I nodded in gratitude and asked, “Any wounded? Any casualties?” “None on our side,” Hendron replied. “Good, search the wagons for scarletyte ruby. We have initiates to ascend back home,” I ordered as I knelt alongside the body, convulsing slowly at random intervals. This fattened drover lost a lot of weight tonight and Hendron was correct, he wasn’t going to survive this. There’s a vampire arrow in his gut which was complicating his life expectancy. I bit the left side of his neck and soon my fangs found blood, siphoning his remaining life force from one body to another. I felt my energy and my vigor grow with each gulp and soon I had my fill. I lifted my head, licked my lips and blinked slowly as I knelt near the campfire, warming my body on this cool spring evening. * * * * * With the Rhumdric Kingdom wagons burning in the distance, we hauled enough scarletyte rubies home by the next evening with the help of their horses. It should be enough to ascend at least a dozen vampires to their next stage. Our tribe is one of the largest, and we dwell in the dark forest known as Mirewood, where no human dares tread lest they want to become one of us. Its canopy is thick and it is too damp to burn so we are safe until the humans cut down every single old growth tree. There aren’t enough axes in the world to do that. Our central town of Mirewood is home to roughly a thousand inhabitants, and we’ve had to expand our borders several times in the last century. My mother and father are our tribal rulers and that makes me the heir to this town. Should my parents reach immortality, I may never have to worry about the pressures of running a town that every other town wants to raze. The town is a menagerie of wooden homes, stone residences sitting between intricately carved wooden frames and treehouses at varying heights. We have our own economy, markets and numerous production buildings although we don’t use silver as our currency for obvious reasons. Gold or a simple barter system has worked well for our people. We don’t need fields for food or open spaces for jousting in the sunlight. We’re more efficient in every aspect than the human kingdoms that surround us. I returned to our family’s manor almost at the heart of the town and retired for the evening while my warband made sure the scarletyte found the proper gem smiths. We don’t exactly need a full night’s rest but relaxing in my bed after a raid does the soul good. In the coming days I will partake in the ascension ceremony for a group of initiates. I hope my pairing doesn’t mind being touched. Then my father stormed in, startling me back to life. “Yyrdra, what is this rumor I’m hearing that you let an enemy soldier leave in peace?” “I survived the raid, thank you for your concern, father,” I responded. My father is of a broad build, orates from a square jaw, and is our Patriarch Prime. He rules our tribe as his ancestors used to rule back when they were nobility in the Arvenswal Empire - neighbors located in south central Vymenia. “What is your answer to my question?” I sat up in bed and crossed my legs. I didn’t even remove my armor yet. I huffed and responded, “I sent him home with a warning to tell his leaders that the silver day-stakings must stop or we will continue to hunt without prejudice.” “Silver day-stakings are few and far between,” my father responded. “You showed mercy which reflects poorly on me.” I bit my tongue. He signed a treaty two years ago with the Avenadyn Duchy’s grand duke, that we would not hunt on their lands. Our forest touches their borders which means we must travel far and wide to find a place to feed. It remains controversial. He leaned against the wall and said, “You will lead the ascension with the rubies you brought back.” “I’ve never led it before.” “You’ll have no choice but to learn as it takes control of your body. Perhaps your performance will attract a worthy mate to continue our lineage,” he smiled and scratched his browline. “Good night.” I wished him an unenthused goodnight, took off my armor and nearly everything else so I could sleep unrestrained while I contemplated his decree. There are grave consequences for those both leading and partaking in the ascension if something goes wrong. I think I’d rather lick an ingot of silver.