"Yes," purred the wizard vampire. "I imagine his teachings didn't change much from my time to yours." Menrick ran his finger along the edge of the magical sphere, the melee around them continuing to swirl and rage in the courtyard.
"You know, though," continued the old mage. "I suppose I should thank you."
Purdun didn't know what to make of this, so he kept quiet.
"There are a few advantages to being a vampire," he said, stopping in front of Purdun and glaring in at him from outside the sphere. "For instance. Magic is no longer my only weapon."
Menrick reached through the swirling plasma and grabbed Purdun by the throat. Taking a step back, he dragged the baron out of the protective bubble and bared his teeth.
"Now I will be the master." Menrick lifted Purdun toward his open mouth.
The baron felt his body shake. Menrick's grip on Purdun's tunic tightened and both men were lifted from the ground. The lord found himself hanging over the flagstones, the silk of his shirt gripped tightly in Menrick's clawed hands-the old vampire mage held in the air by two of Purdun's half-giant bodyguards.
Purdun put his boot on Menrick's chest and kicked off. The fabric of his tunic gave way, and the baron dropped to the ground, his chest bare.
Menrick thrashed against the bodyguards, flailing his limbs with preternatural speed. The old man hissed and clawed at the two silent half-giants, but neither of them budged an inch.
Scrambling to his feet, Purdun took a step back and looked into the eyes of his one-time mentor and friend, the vampire who had just tried to kill him.
"I am sorry, Menrick," he said. "I was sad to see you die the first time, but I will be doubly so the second."
Lord Purdun's saber flashed in the flickering light. It slid quickly through the withered flesh and brittle bone that had been Menrick's neck, and the old mage's head toppled from his body. The arms twitched for a moment, then the corpse of Purdun's old servant went limp.
"Put that somewhere safe," Purdun said to his two bodyguards. "We'll need to dispose of it properly when all of this is over."
Ryder looked down on the raging fight in the courtyard below. He couldn't have asked for anything better. To come out of the dungeon to find the Crimson Awl waiting at the front gate was all the justice he would ever need. Finally Zerith Hold would fall.
His brother and his wife may have betrayed him, but he would regain his family-he would return to the Awl and be embraced by them as a savior.
Looking over the familiar faces, he wondered who had been the driving force while he was gone. Who had taken over the role he had hoped Liam would fill?
The rest of the Awl finished making their way through the partially opened gate and portcullis. The last group to enter didn't seem all that interested in getting inside and walked casually into the Hold.
That's when he spotted the person he'd been looking for.
"Montauk." The name rolled off Ryder's lips with a certain respect and admiration. Ryder had never thought much of Montauk. He had always been a selfish, petty man. But Ryder was willing to overlook his previous opinion. He had been wrong in his characterization, and he would admit that to Montauk when they met again.
In the meantime, however, there was the little matter of dealing with his brother.
Placing a hand on the ledge, Ryder leaped over the low wall and into the courtyard below, his chains clanking as he landed. At the back of the melee, standing valiantly beside his baron, Liam fought against the men who had at one time been his friends and neighbors.
They were allies once. Liam had made them into enemies.
Ryder crossed the courtyard toward his brother. "Liam of Duhlnarim," he said as he approached. "I call you out." He grabbed one of the chains dangling from his shoulder and set it in motion.
Liam finished off the opponent he was fighting and looked back at his brother.
Ryder didn't wait for him to acknowledge the challenge. Swinging his chain, he let it fly at Liam's head. His brother stepped back, dodging the links with a quick weave.
Ryder stepped forward, pressing his advantage and coming in closer to Liam. This time though, he swung a chain with each hand. Again his brother stepped back, dodging out of the way.
"Ryder, what are you doing?'
"I'm killing you."
Liam pointed to the fight raging beside them. "Don't you see? The people of the Awl aren't what they seem."
Ryder swung his chain again. This time Liam had to bring his sword up to block it from slamming into his face.
"Propaganda," Ryder shouted, striking out again.
Liam bashed aside another attack. "I don't want to fight you. Just look, will you? They're vampires!"
"All I need to know is that you stole Samira!" Ryder went low, catching Liam by the foot and sending him sprawling.
Liam clattered to the ground and scrambled back to his feet. "I thought you were dead," screamed the younger of the two brothers. "I watched you fall in battle. I didn't think you were coming back."
"Well, here I am." Ryder shook his chains. "And I'm going to take back that which belongs to me." Again he attacked Liam.
This time Liam fought back, smashing aside the chain and countering.
"That's more like it," said Ryder through gritted teeth. "Let's see what she's worth to you."
Liam's eyes narrowed. "She's worth dying for." He lunged, feinting to the right then changing back to the left-a move Ryder had taught him many years ago.
The blade spanked off of the links of Ryder's armor.
"Nice form," said Ryder. "But you'll have to do better than that if you intend to stop me from killing you."
Liam lunged again. This time, Ryder slapped the blade away harmlessly with a pair of chains and followed through with another that slammed into Liam's arm.
Liam winced from the blow and took a step back, rolling his shoulder.
"Hurts, don't it?"
Liam ignored him. "I never meant for any of this to happen," he said. "Can't you believe me?"
Ryder shook his head. "No. I can't." He stepped up to take another swing at his brother.
A dark shadow flashed in front of Ryder, and in the next moment, he found himself struggling to stay on his feet. Some foul-smelling creature now clung to his shoulders and neck, its feet pressed against his back as if it were using him like a perch.
Ryder couldn't see the beast, but he could see the one clinging to Liam. It looked so strange. About the size of a man, it stood atop Ryder's younger brother at an odd angle, clutching his back. Somehow the creature, whatever it was, looked familiar, as if it were someone he knew.
Then a terrible chill ran up his spine. He did know this creature-this man. He was a farmer who had lived in Furrowsrich. He was a member of the Crimson Awl. As Ryder watched, the man opened his mouth, revealing long sharp fangs, and he tried to bite down on Liam.
What was happening here? This wasn't right.
Liam had been telling the truth-the Awl had been infiltrated, or worse, sucked dry and turned into vampires. His brother had tried to tell him, but Ryder had been blinded by his jealousy and rage.
Sorrow filled Ryder's chest. He had let these people in here, had let the vampires into Zerith Hold. Many men were going to die because of this, including his brother.
Truly, that was what Ryder had wanted when he escaped his bonds. He had stepped out of the dungeon with every intention of ending Liam's life.
But he'd felt that way before, when they were children. He would get so mad at his younger brother that the urge to kill would well up inside him. It was the only power a younger brother had over his older sibling-the power to push him to the point of blinding rage faster than any other human could.