The Vampire King's Mortal Mate

The Inquisition

Gregory walked beside his daughter. He hated how she always replied rudely to any of his inquisitions. He knew his power hungry endeavours often ended up putting her in awkward positions but the least she could do in respect of the fact that he was her father would be to respond in a civil manner.

He wished he could communicate how aggravated he felt in a long and unrestrained tirade but the importance of the conclave outweighed the expression of his misplaced emotions.

They arrived at the conclave halls. The halls were made entirely of concrete with only one way in and out. It possessed four windows which could only be opened from the inside and while the conclave held, the halls were only accessible with keys which opened the external locks of the halls. This was a precaution to ensure the safety of whosoever sat as a representative of his species on the seats of the conclave halls.

The external locks could only be opened by a combination of three different keys, each possessed individually by the highest ranking members of each specie's delegation, formerly four in number but had to be modified given the eradication of the dwarves. The safety of the occupants of the room was ensured in a simple method that required a key ingredient; trust!!.

Each delegation of the species was required by laws of the conclave to leave a member of their party outside the conclave halls to keep custody of the key peculiar to their species. The keys could only be united twice during the conclave; firstly, by all high ranking members present and finally, by their subordinates as they would have entered the conclave halls at that point.

Gregory walked up to the doors with his daughter. Already standing rigidly at the doors was Thomas and his party of Lawrence and Karl. However, this time around, there were focused expressions on the faces of the two young Lycans. Arthur's speech had left a lasting impression on them it seemed. This observation persuaded Gregory's face to yield to a little smile. Lycans were so predictable.

Albert finehair walked in with his sons. As a matter of law, only one vampire could be allowed Into the conclave halls alongside a Lycan and an Elf. However, the proceedings of the meeting could be observed by their subordinates as there were speaking pipes attached to the walls through which they could listen but seldom interrupt unless it was absolutely necessary.

A subordinate seldom interrupted at the conclaves, given the fact that there never was a strong enough reason. Proceedings normally transpired in a civil and somewhat agreeable manner.

There really was no need for the Finehair and Goldbane families to be present but the level of distrust and disunity among the vampire families necessitated it.

The serenity at the conclave entrance was interrupted as a procession of elves walked through the hallways carrying a litter on which transparent curtains wrapped rather loosely. The wooden vehicle had a human laying supine on it, motionless and seemingly asleep. The oracle!!

The oracle was a young female elf with a long piece of cloth tied over her eyes. Her hands and feet were bound as well for the occasion. These requirements served to ensure that given the presence of one elf already in the conclave halls, the second had to be subdued to ease the minds of the other two species present in the halls. All premises of safety had been explored and precautionary measures taken.

The elves carried her to the entrance and stood, waiting for the great doors to swing open.

Gildor lupin and his wife were the next to join the growing party at the doors of the conclave halls. The vampires and the lycans eyed them curiously, the scent of s*x still very thick on their persons.

Gildor gritted his teeth at the fact that these creatures could pick out his most private of deeds just by catching a scent in the air. He considered the abilities wasted on lowly creatures such as these.

He swept his gaze through their faces. Almost simultaneously, they had all averted their gazes feigning ignorance of that which was as obvious as daytime.

One of them still looked at him, the lycan Lawrence. He had a silly smirk on his face that looked like he was about to burst into laughter.

" I would advice you to place your wild dog on a leash before he steps into a trap, Arthur", spat Gildor.

"I apologize, My lord but I haven't brought any wild dogs with me on this trip", smiled Arthur. Lawrence was finally beginning to catch on to what it meant to be a Lycan; fearless and stubborn and the prospects of where this could lead excited Arthur.

" I would prefer it if we could lunge at each others throats within the conclave halls and not out here where we could ruin this lovely hallway with the gore and bloody remains of a Lycan and an Elf going toe to toe", Marcus joked as he walked in, in an attempt to diffuse the already tense atmosphere.

Thankfully, Gildor's fiery temper had abated with Marcus' entry much to Arthur's disappointment. He had longed for a long time to tear away the skin of the elven king from his bloody skull or at least try to, as he had never fully been made aware of the elven monarch's true capabilities and the mystery of it all restrained him somewhat.

" You may present your keys", commanded Marcus in a dismissive tone. He would not have the important deliberations of the conclave hindered, in it's infancy nonetheless by the exuberance of these two. They needed to find other ways to vent their frustrations this time around. He had a very good idea how King Gildor would choose to calm his thoughts either way.

Gildor reached into his clothing and produced an iron key which in parts complimented similar pieces of iron presented by Arthur on behalf of the Lycans and Marcus himself on behalf of the vampires. Marcus assembled the keys and with clicks of them settling in place as they were merged, the key to the conclave halls was made whole.

Marcus inserted the now whole key into the lock and opened the doors. As the doors opened, a gust of air was sucked into the room nudging all who stood before the doors forward. The procession of elves carrying the litter marched in through the doors as if they had been signalled and didn't stop till the reached the center of the halls.

The halls were circular in shape and culminated in a plateau at the center of the room. On this plateau were four seats made out of stone and an elevated platform on which the elves placed the litter carrying the oracle. Having put the oracle in place, they turned away in unison and made to leave the halls.

" I presume all the arrangements have been found to be satisfactory?", Marcus asked rhetorically.

"Very well then, you may enter!", he announced.

On hearing those words, Arthur and Gildor turned to the members of their party and had a quick consultation before obliging Marcus' request. Marcus would have felt the need to do the same with the vampire elders had they not been at such odds. Instead of the support the other species got from members of their own delegations, he expected nothing but criticism and continuous fault finding from his. With a deep sigh, he followed the men into the halls.

Across the hallway, from where Gregory Goldbane had just come to take custody of the Vampire complement of the key, stood his daughter Margaret. Intense desire burned in her eyes. She had regarded Marcus right from when he had joined them moments earlier till the moment he had just sighed as he entered the halls. She hadn't wanted to come on this trip to the Bloodtooth castle but perhaps it had been worth it after all.

She wondered if her father had planned for an attraction of this sort to happen. Could it have been his plan all along? She didn't doubt her father's propensity for the devious but this seemed like something that had happened naturally and could not have possibly been forseen by her scheming father.

The doors to the conclave halls were sealed shut once again and the key separated into it's individual pieces. The elven complement was handed to Mandi. The vampire Complement was handed to Gregory; mainly because older than Albert, otherwise, Albert himself would have challenged his claim to the complement.

The last complement which was meant for the Lycans was handed to Karl. After this was done. They retreated to seats provided, sitting within earshot of the speaking pipes from where they would participate in the least capacity however, in the now ongoing Baldorian conclaves.

The conclave halls felt empty as Marcus and his two companions walked towards their respective seats. They were dressed causally in such a manner as to inspire trust but most importantly to ensure that there were less hiding places for weapons for whosoever carried them. This was against conclave rules but one could never be too careful when it came to matters concerning the species. Downplaying the hatred shared by the species on such a sensitive venture as this would as good as suicide.

Marcus, Gildor and Arthur had found their seats and had taken some time to scan their environments and each other. There was a tentative silence between the men as they imagined how best to begin the proceedings.

" Gildor lupin", started Marcus, saving the men the thoughts they had expended.

" While it has been a while since we have heard anything from or about the elves, I'd say the information that has come to light recently as regards to happenings within the walls of Moorhen begs to question the amount of trust this conclave has placed in you. Do you have anything to say in defense of yourself before we continue?", asked Marcus in a cold raspy voice that sent chills down the spine of Gildor's wife, Mandi.

She had feared that Marcus wouldn't take kindly to the intent of her husband's continuous consultation of the oracle, and those fears grew pronounced as she heard the words directed at her husband and the manner in which they had been spoken. Gildor could feel his wife's dismay and fear built up within him.

"Might I ask what you have heard about Moorhen, Marcus?", Gildor answered craftily in a vain attempt to preserve as much information as he could.