‘Why were you going?’ she said.
‘I—’ Dwarf stubbornness asserted itself. He shook his head. ‘Dwarf business, eh?’ he grunted. ‘No offence, but it’s not manling business.’
‘Of course,’ she said. Neferata stroked his brow and leaned him back. If her strength surprised him, Razek gave no indication. His eyes fluttered in his head, and she said, ‘Sleep now. We will keep you safe, Razek Silverfoot. Sleep…’ He resisted at first, stubbornly, but then he collapsed back, his eyes closing as pain and exhaustion dragged him under.
As the dwarf passed into unconsciousness, Neferata stood and wiped her hand across her furs. ‘North then,’ she said, looking at the others.
‘And now that we know, what of him?’ Khaled said. He smiled cruelly. ‘A bit of sport, perhaps…’
‘No,’ Naaima said sharply.
Khaled looked at her and sneered. ‘Why? He’s no good to drink from according to you and he’s slowing us down!’
‘Quiet, Khaled. She is correct,’ Neferata said, making a chopping gesture. ‘We need him alive for now. We are in strange territory, and it would serve us well to have a guide, albeit an unwitting one.’
‘But—’ Khaled began.
‘She said no,’ Naaima snarled, and Khaled replied in kind, baring his fangs.
‘I want to hunt,’ he hissed.
‘Do you?’ Neferata said, the calm tone belying the fury that swept through her. ‘Have you learned nothing from our troubles in Bel Aliad?’ she continued, letting a snarl creep into her words. Khaled hesitated, his next words dying on his lips.
‘It wasn’t his fault!’ Anmar protested, rising to her brother’s defence. Neferata’s gaze swung to her and Anmar stutteringly added, ‘M-my lady.’ She and Khaled were more alike than simply in appearance. Both were slaves to impatience and impetuousness, though Anmar was usually self-aware enough to recognise it. Regardless, it did not stop her from leaping to her brother’s defence now.
Neferata felt a moment’s sympathy. Then her sudden backhand caught the other vampire across the jaw and threw her to the snow. ‘Must I discipline you as well as your brother?’ Neferata said.
Anmar cowered, covering her head with trembling hands. Neferata turned away, her fangs snapping in frustration, and her followers fell back. Anger radiated off her at the best of times, like the warning of a storm. Now, a rumble of thunder slipped through her mask, striking all of them to their very cores. She fostered informality among her followers, and allowed them the freedom of initiative. Every so often they forgot that she was a queen. On those occasions they needed to be reminded, and forcefully. Examples were best taken to heart when they were inflicted suddenly and swiftly.
‘But it was his fault, little leopard,’ Neferata purred, looking at Anmar, who crawled away from her. Khaled tried to retreat, but she moved too quickly, and between one eye-blink and the next, her fingers gripped his chin. She leaned close. ‘It was your fault, wasn’t it, Khaled? I warned you, didn’t I?’ she said gently. Then, more harshly, ‘Didn’t I?’ She shook him and his heels scraped the snow as he was jerked several inches into the air. ‘But you didn’t listen, did you?’
She flung him to the ground with a snarl. Bones snapped as he struck the ground, and he rolled onto his stomach, groaning as they re-knit. Neferata placed one sandalled foot to the back of his head and drove his face deep into the snow. ‘I will not be questioned,’ she said mildly, looking at each of them in turn. She released Khaled.
He spat snow from his mouth as he rose onto his hands and knees. Neferata guided him to his feet and shoved him towards his sister. Then she turned towards Naaima. ‘Those packs we salvaged. Do we still have them?’
‘Yes,’ Naaima said. They had taken the packs from the dwarfs at Neferata’s urging, though only Naaima had an inkling of why she would want them. ‘There are papers. Ledgers, perhaps. My people know the dawi as great record keepers.’
‘Perhaps,’ Neferata said, rifling through the packs. Naaima recognised the look on her mistress’s face.
‘What is it?’ she said softly, so the others would not hear.
‘We did not run across them by accident,’ Neferata said. ‘They were going in the same direction we were.’
‘I thought we didn’t know where we were going,’ Naaima said, teasing gently. She was the only one who dared do so, especially so soon after one of Neferata’s ‘lessons’. Naaima had known her mistress in life, and had guided her through the doors of death and undeath alike. She had seen Neferata at her worst and at her best. She had endured blows and curses and caresses and kisses. Neferata looked askance at her, wondering why Naaima had returned to Lahmia on the eve of its destruction, and why she had stayed since. She had never dared ask.
‘No, we simply didn’t know what it was called,’ Neferata said, turning her attentions back to the matter at hand.
‘Mourkain,’ Naaima said.
‘Mourkain,’ Neferata said, smiling sharply. She held up a fistful of papers. ‘You know the look of official documents as well as I, Naaima. These were no unlucky travellers. No, they had purpose.’ She cast a lingering, contemplative look at the unconscious dwarf. Then she looked up. ‘Night is fading. We must continue on. Let us go. Khaled, see to our new friend,’ she said, gesturing for Khaled to grab Razek’s travois. He made as if to protest, but Anmar’s hand on his arm caused him to hold his tongue. Neferata nodded in satisfaction.
Perhaps they could be taught, after all.
Then the vampires were in motion, pelting headlong through the night, outrunning the sun. They travelled by night and rested by day. Someone was always awake to tend to Razek, but the dwarf slept through even the most difficult of travails.
Neferata knew now what the black sun signified, but the knowledge gave her no comfort. What awaited her in Mourkain? She had no answers. Indeed, it only raised more questions. The sun seemed to grow darker every time she looked at it, drawing the shadows of the night into its corona.
It was hungry.
She knew hunger when she saw it, even if the thing had neither mouth nor shape. A vast black all-consuming hunger crouched somewhere in the mountains, waiting for her to enter its maw. She had been a priestess as well as a queen in life, and she knew what portents were. Despite the misgivings, she did not turn around. And if the others had any worries of their own, they did not share them.
Granted, the sun wasn’t the only thing that was hungry. More than once she caught Khaled staring thirstily at Razek’s unconscious form. The beast-blood had turned rank quickly. Even Neferata felt a pang. And the beasts were certainly hungry.
The creatures they had killed had only been the scouts of a much larger herd. That herd was now in pursuit. Their cries were carried on the cold wind, and seemed to echo from every rock and tree. The snow began to fall again as they travelled. The vampires felt nothing, and even wounded, Razek seemed nearly as hardy. Nonetheless, they made sure to set small fires when they stopped to keep the dwarf warm. Razek rarely stirred. There were supplies in the packs they had salvaged, and when he needed to eat, he could.
By the fourth night, the distant howls of the beasts, ever-present, had caught up with them.
They ran on, the howls of their pursuers snapping at their heels. ‘Why do we run?’ Stregga barked, limbs pumping as she pushed herself through the knee-high snow. ‘We’ll butcher them as easily as the others, surely…’