The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight (34 page)

In the distance, near the kingdom's horizon, there existed a graveyard of ancient ships. Some appeared new, or at least, only a couple hundred seasons old. Most were mere skeletons of their former selves&old, rotting, with the smell of death all around them&floating in water so dank and dreadful that even the native fish refused to dwell there.

"Keeth," Ka-Ron asked, noticing the ancient fleet, "what are those?"

The wizard followed the knight's pointing finger.

Upon noticing the graveyard of ships, the wizard immediately turned away from it. He shook with a fear rarely seen my one who practices magic and science.

"That is the lost fleet," Keeth whispered, hoping not to catch attention.

"The lost fleet?" Rohan repeated. "And, may I ask, why are they lost?"

"It is a good thing to fight away evil," Keeth tried to explain. "It is a bad thing to do it only for personal gain. Those ships carried an army of sailors once employed by a visiting prince who wanted to obtain Mull Garden."

"What became of them?" Jatel asked. His gaze focused on the graveyard.

"It ended badly for them, young squire," Keeth explained.

"Legend has it that Count Voslow was responsible," Dorian added. The dwarf was using his ax to hack away at the brush in the way. "He cursed them all upon their mortal deaths, to remain forever at their posts, waiting for the day when he would release them."

"You mean that they all still live in their ships?" Ka-Ron asked.

"No," Keeth explained. "Nothing alive is still there. Imagine, dying, and never being allowed to rest. No, brave knight, there are things in this universe far worse than death."

"Agreed!" the dwarf said, cutting down a huge bloodthorn bush. As the unfortunate tree splashed down into the gray waters of the bog, a small colony of dung beetles scattered, swimming away to parts unknown.

Keeth paused, raising a cautious hand into the air.

"Behold! Mull Garden."

The ancient castle peered down at the advancing party with an awareness that seemed to attack all of them to their core. The unnatural green tint of the stones which composed the makings of the main fortress is what had originally given the structure its name. It had once been an important crossway for several of the ancient Nown cities, providing a place of commerce and rest for both king and peasant. It had also been a stronghold of freedom, for during the time of The Coughing it was held by those who defended the living from the dying.

All this is one building.

Now, nothing but death.

A light blinked to life inside the castle. In one of its many towers - no one had ever lived long enough to count all of them - a bright candlelight beamed outward, as if to acknowledge its arriving guests.

"Something" was aware!

"Is that supposed to happen, wizard?" Rohan asked, nervously reaching back toward his quiver of arrows.

Keeth tried to respond, but his own curiosity, mixed with the instinct to survive, caused him to remain mute.

The front gates of the castle slowly, loudly, and quite unexpectedly rattled, separated, and then opened.

"Wizard?" both Ka-Ron and Jatel asked in unison.

A figure soon stood at the gate, waiting.

"It appears that we are expected," Keeth surmised. His voice belied the calm appearance of his features.

Rohan's hand grabbed for an arrow.

Dorian held more tightly to his ax.

Both Jatel and Ka-Ron moved closer toward each other.

Nothing happened.

The figure continued to wait, with its hands clasped in front.

Count Voslow studied the small group of people approaching his castle. He was well aware of the wizard. He paid considerable attention towards the elf and his bow. The dwarf was of little consequence, but&

Who is this magical creature?

The group walked up the drawbridge of Mull Garden expecting all hell to break loose. The Count laughed at their surprise - the honest surprise of prepared warriors coming in contact with the forces of "nothing."

Voslow could not but be amused.

Rude as it was, the sound carried.

"What is so damned funny?" the vampire heard the dwarf whisper. Dwarfs were courageous if not stupid creatures.

The wizard took his place as head of the group. As they all approached, Voslow laughed louder. He had seen and experienced much in his long life. He could not understand, even at his age, how with each and every season, the "hunting parties" which always came, wanting to destroy him, seemed to grow more and more pathetic.

Voslow's eyes scanned the body of the approaching female.

The vampire cleared his throat.

"So you have come to kill me," Voslow stated, bowing to his guests. "This is a good thing. I have had such little practice at being dead."

The wizard and all his party stopped their walking. The Count got such amusement at playing with the direct approach. This was something he would have to save for later suns, when future "hunting parties" decided to pay another visit.

"Ahhhhh, greetings," the wizard said, being uneasy. As an afterthought, the old man bowed to the Count.

Such an idiot.

Voslow's stare could not seem to break away from the curious eyes of the woman. She was quite beautiful&more so than Voslow had ever seen. There was an unknown force flowing from this female that the vampire found both odd and new. He tried to ignore her, but her lovely features seemed to call after him.

Voslow bowed, inviting all in with a steady sweep of his hand.

Molly bit at her right thumbnail, silently watching En-Don practice at his sword. She studied him as the young man swung his sword over his head, from side to side, over and under each arm, hitting and avoiding moving targets he cleverly had placed on strings and levers. He was both fast and fantastic.

He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

Try as she might, the female vampire could not seem to take her eyes off his ass.

"When mother returns, I hope to show her my improvements," En-Don bragged. In his bragging, the man forgot to take into account a small ball he had placed at the end of a string - it hit him upon the back of the head, bouncing off. En-Don rubbed his head in comical embarrassment.

Molly said nothing.

She only stared.

"Molly?" En-Don asked, turning to face her.

The vampire looked up, startled.

"Yes?" she asked, jittery. "What's wrong?"

"What were you studying?" En-Don asked.

Molly could not seem to bring herself to look En-Don in the eyes. She felt as she had as a child, when her mother had walked into her room, catching the young woman doing things best left in the private places of one's life. Still, these things and feelings were normal. Why should one feel so guilty? Why should one feel so ashamed?

"I was keeping an eye on your&rhythm." at the last, Molly could do nothing but smile.

"Oh?" En-Don asked, moving closer. "Is that important?"

"Without rhythm, all else is folly."

En-Don gave his head a satisfactory shake. "Then I thank you for your tutelage, Molly."

The vampire held tight to her urge to strike. She wanted this man more than any craving she had ever encountered. Her needs even seemed to go beyond her curse. All her desires were female. All her wants were indeed those of the living.

"You may continue," En-Don stated, getting back to his studies.

Molly's eyes continued.

What kept her from attacking? Fear and common sense.

"His mother would kill me," the vampire mused. "It would break the trust her friends have in me."

There was also the fact that En-Don was only a couple of suns old. In reality, if he were born of normal circumstances, this man she coveted would be a swaddling babe. How could one attack such innocence?

"How could one deny himself so much?"

Molly moved forward.

She would worry about En-Don's parents later.

"En-Don?" Molly stated, loosening a couple of snaps on her blouse.

"Yes, Molly?" The young man's eyes were both curious and open.

The young woman fidgeted with her long red hair, and found herself blinking her eyes. If she were not under his spell, Molly would have laughed if it had been any other woman. Love was not a thing to be toyed with in such a manner. She knew that. However, at the moment, Molly was not thinking with her mind. Her concentration erupted two sticks lower.

"What do you think of my blouse?"

Calmly, the young man glanced at her garments. He noticed, quite plainly, that the woman's breasts were practically hanging out of her clothing.

"It is a fair garment."

"See anything you like?"

En-Don looked down at Molly's breasts, but the emotion in his eyes did not change. His hands still absently played with the hilt of his sword.

"Yes, I do." the young man replied.

Molly's hearts began to race.

"But I am not hungry at this time. Thank you, Molly."

Reality, unfortunately, set in.

Molly buttoned up, and returned to her harmless watching.

As the small group from the
Argo
followed Count Voslow deep inside his lair, several members turned curious eyes toward the wizard. Keeth was just as startled as they were.

"Why is this madman cooperating with us?" Dorian whispered. "Does he not know we are here to kill him?"

"Curious, is it not?" Rohan added. The elf continued to hold an arrow in his right hand, ready to apply it to his bow, if need be.

"I do not understand this," the wizard stated, scratching his head. "I do not understand this at all."

Count Voslow continued to guide his guests deeper into the castle. It was quite obvious that the vampire could hear what they were saying. Whispers, thoughts, and anything of the subversive was within the senses of the undead. Voslow, for the time being, just seemed not to care.

Mull Garden appeared to have been a beautiful home once. In the distant past the mold, cobwebs, and collapsed walls held within them the power to control nations. Dull remnants of gold-flaked paint, the finest ivory, and artworks lost to the passage of time attracted their observation.

Voslow made it a point to stop several times, allowing them all to share in the building's former glories.

"For those who are interested," Voslow said, pointing a long and bony finger beyond his grasp. "There is the chapel."

The castle chapel was unlike any seen by outsiders. Like those in most ancient castles, this chapel had been built during the time of The Coughing
.
And, like most chapels, this one was built from the bones of those taken during those dark times. The doors of the chapel, however, were quite different.

Carved proudly upon the huge wooden door, leading into the prayer chamber, was a stoic figure of a knight. This last caught Ka-Ron's eye, causing her to gasp in both wonder and surprise.

Her emotion caught the eye of the vampire.

The vampire's emotion caught the eye of the wizard.

The figure carved upon the chapel gate was brave, riding upon a horse which reminded Ka-Ron of her beloved Echoheart. In the knight's right hand, raised triumphantly above his head, was a flaming sword. At the feet of the horse were hundreds upon hundreds of the fallen.

Everyone who saw the image knew who it had been.

It was Count Voslow.

"A small vanity," Voslow said, forbidding himself the enjoyment of the honor. "It is of little importance."

"It is a most remarkable likeness, sir," Ka-Ron stated, lowering her eyes from the vampire's hungry stare.

"Hmmmm?" Voslow mused, glancing over his shoulder nonchalantly and allowing himself a momentary glance. "Indeed?"

The vampire continued his walk, motioning his guests to follow.

They walked past great halls, past important meeting rooms, and long-forgotten museums holding even more forgotten historical treasures. Mull Garden was a decaying memory of the Nown world's past. Books, paintings, furniture, statues and devices that would confuse even the most educated wizard - all was for the taking.

The only thing in their way was Count Voslow.

The crew of the
Argo
continued cautiously to follow their host, marveling at the tarnished grandeur of Mull Garden. Voslow pointed to an occasional curiosity here and there, if only to help entertain himself. It was quite obvious to all who were studying the vampire that eternity had been a high price for the Count to pay. He was utterly, completely, and absolutely bored.

The halls got dark.

Voslow put out his hand, stopping all.

Ka-Ron, who had been paying more attention to what she was looking at than at where she was going, accidentally stepped onto a half-eaten and completely rotten corpse of a lava rat. The tiny creature had been discarded after fulfilling Voslow's hunger many suns ago.

Ka-Ron retreated from the rat and backed up into Jatel's arms.

Voslow mildly chuckled at the revulsion the bloodied corpse produced.

"I apologize, my lady." Voslow lit a torch. "Maid's day off, you understand."

With illumination, Voslow focused everyone's attention upon a set of huge golden doors set in front of them. The doors were several hundred sticks in height, appeared to be quite ancient and curiously enough, seemed to be the only items in the castle that appeared both clean and in prime condition.

"To the gods!" Dorian stated, glancing up at the doors. "What are these?"

"I have often stared at these figures, wondering the same thing." Voslow stated, raising the torch so that all could clearly see.

On each side of the doors were several chapters' worth of ancient text. They told a substantial story, but alas, no one could read the language anymore.

"This text is pre-Nown, is it not?" Keeth asked, his features reflecting the intellectual mystery of the moment.

"I believe you are correct, wizard." Voslow's eyes turned to look at Ka-Ron.

Ka-Ron noticed.

There were two figures carved on the doors. One was a man, the other a woman. Both had their backs facing one another, and held in their hands swords. The man's was a simple sword. The woman's was in flames. Although not facing each other, they were not enemies. The woman, clearly peeking at the man from over her shoulder, held a satisfying smile. The man's gaze was skyward, as if challenging the gods for his right to claim her. In the far distance, at the center of the doors, was Mull Garden.