Interlude - Sir David Longbow.

Sir David Longbow rose sharply from his slumber, his chainmail suit rattling as the ringlets flowed down across his hard-boiled leathers. He stared out momentarily at the darkness and the darkness stared back. He was in his chamber he realized, the walls now coming into focus under a solely lit candle by his bedstand. He had been reading right before sleep swallowed him up. Sir David had continued to require a lot of sleep throughout his age, despite his mother claiming he would eventually outgrow the need for nine-hour rests. David took a swift terrified inhale and looked down at his legs that sat above the woolen bed coverings.

Down on his lap lay a book, its pages spilled open and folded inwards against the weight of the bind. The pages were old and yellowed, so David lifted the book carefully. He was a fool to fall asleep with such a book on his person, especially with so many eyes lurking about the castle these days.

David got up and made his way to the window, knocking over a goblet of wine with his boot as he did. It was the wine that aided his sudden lapse into sleep, like a mother’s hug that once eased him to sleep. The wine spilled out like a fresh open wound and flowed across the stone floor. It looked to David like blood and briefly made him feel sick, it continued to run its course across the stone floor before settling as the base of the table.

The window in his room was closed, its wooden shutters still locked. He was grateful he still had his wits to do so before falling asleep; ‘he had to be more careful.’ Opening the cabinet below the window with a small iron key that hung about his neck, he withdrew another chest from within and opened the chest using the engraving on his ring. He paused when he looked at the contents inside, suddenly remembering how it needed to be done, or most important of all: what needed to be done, for the sake of his Duchess and the sake of Leeside.

Inside the chest amongst a bed of lilac silk sat a piece of wood, its appearance was plain except for one end that had been sharpened to a narrow point. David retrieved the piece of wood as gingerly as one might lift a new-born kitten. He then placed the book inside the chest, on its cover were the words: How to Kill a Vampire – by Emerick Von Clause.

He slammed the chest shut, sealing it once again with his ring finger, and stored the wooden stake in his belt. There beside it was tucked another stake, its twin brother carved from the same tree. David had made two, keeping one hidden away in the chest in case of for whatever reason, he was parted from his original. He opened the window boards to let the morning light spill in through the glass panels and bathed in its warmth. The sun took the image of a fat ripe orange as it made its ascent from the horizon, and David looked down over the city of Leeside in all its splendor. Evil sleeps when the sun arrives on duty he thought, or rather he hoped.

He opened a window to take a breath of fresh morning air. The city was quiet with most of the soldiers gone, but the sound of merchants and dockworkers still offered his ears some disturbance. Little did any of them know, however, a Vampire lurked among them, and it had breached the very castle itself. Only David knew for sure, and everyone that had once believed him were now dead, or worse, belonged to him.

The revelation angered him so much he slammed the window shut and turned to leave his chamber. In his haste he faltered a moment, allowing the sharp spasm of pain to run its course up his leg. It was an old wound, one that festered and grew bold the more he got older. He gritted his teeth and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. It showed a man well past his prime, with salted hair and deep sockets for eyes.

‘When did you get so old?”

When the pain finally retreated from his leg, he took another stride to his bed where his longsword sat rested against the frame of his bed. ‘Forever faithful and by my side. Which is more than I can say for most things.’ He hadn’t swung the sword with intent in years, but she still maintained her razor kiss. David had kept her that way by caressing her daily with a whetstone.

When his sword was tightly strapped around his waist he felt better, as if the sword warded off the fear in his heart. He departed and made his way to the Great Hall to await her Grace. He only hoped she had gained some strength during the night or rather, hoping she had managed to catch any sleep at all.

None of the men he passed greeted him like they once did, even the ones he knew and took on as squires for a short time. Sir Thomas Reed, a youthful man of eight and twenty only looked on as David passed him, and then he noticed it again. On their necks were tattooed two small red circles, the mark of subjugation, the marking all the men had when they became his.

Sir David had witnessed the change first-hand to each of the vampire’s victims. At first, they experienced sleepless nights, each claiming it to simply be the case of bad dreams. Some would tell tales of their doors being unlocked in the middle of the night, windows appearing open as if on their own accord. Some would even claim to see something move throughout the castle at night. Then one by one, they all sang different songs or none at all. Everyone that seemingly took a change of perspective overnight bore the twin puncture holes on their neck like trophies.

When David drew close to the Great Hall doors, he heard a muttering of voices come from inside. He pushed at the doors, ignoring the vigil sentries that usually opened such doors for a respected knight like him, and felt the rage fill him when he saw him sitting there with Marquess Richard, a boy of eight and the Duchess’s son.

The great hall was empty giving the two voices magnitude as it echoed around the large room. The marble floor shimmered under the many torchlights that lined the walls and pillars of the chamber. Many of the flowers that used to flank the Great Hall were now dead or dying, none of the servants seemed compelled enough to replace them. David’s stake seems to grow heavy in his belt when his eyes met the thing that had brought about such ruin. He sat at the high table with his back to David, yet David still felt his eyes upon him somehow. As he walked closer, his old ears began to make sense of the two voices.

“What’s the most important piece of the game?” The Vampire spoke, and David suddenly realized that two of them sat over a game of Chess. Richard narrowed his brow in deep contemplation, his short brown hair comb neatly to one side.

“The king!” he said victoriously.

“Very good Richie,” the Vampire replied. “but why?”

Richard pondered the question carefully like Sir David had taught him too. ‘Don’t be too hasty to answer a question,’ he had counseled him once. ‘Even if you believe your answer is right, you can always consider how to answer it better.’ David watched as the boy took his time to phrase his answer, moving slowly closer. David stroked the wooden stake in his belt and slowed his footsteps.

“Because if it’s taken, then the game ends,” Richard said pungently.

David could not see the vampire's face but felt the creature smile and the room seemed to grow dim. The pungent odour of decaying flowers filled David’s nose and with every step, he took closer to the vampire, the colder the air grew around him. Richard seemed immune, or too naïve to notice he was so close to death itself.

“That is why we protect our king at all costs,” the vampire said snatching a piece from the board. “This, however, is the most important piece, Richie.”

David saw the thin pale fingers hold up a queen piece before placing it back on the board where it had once sat. Richard poked at his fleshy lower lip in consideration.

“It’s your turn, Richie.” Came the voice, and David saw the boy move a piece to take his opponent’s pawn. David was close now, close enough to see the game of chess in play, but not close enough to strike. David saw that Richard, despite his young age had a keen mind for logic and strategy, perhaps one day he would make a good Duke if he survived long enough to reach Duke-hood that was. Richard had made a successful attack on his opponent's left side and separated the Vampire’s king from the queen. While the king moved up the right side of the board with a handful of pieces, Richard was taking pieces on the left. Maybe David would let the boy beat him before he drove his stake through the creature’s heart.

“Very good Richie,” the vampire said again, its voice high and full of joyous emotion. “But your blind to my trap, my most important piece.” It pressed its attack along the right side of the board, taking pawns and other low pieces, while Richard continued his skirmish on the left. After another five turns, Richard took his opponent's queen with a smile.

“Ha!” Richard said. “I took your most important piece like you said.”

“You did Richie, well done.”

The boy observed the board. He still had his own queen and more pieces than his opponent. Then Richard saw it, the same thing David saw three turns ago. The king on the right side stood next to a pawn, with only a single square to reach Richards's back lines. The Vampire moved the pawn to the backline.

“Queen me.” It ordered, and Richard handed him back his queen. “Any pawn can become a queen little Richie, and the king can move anywhere on the board, even in places most dangerous. Now you have a queen sitting in your home.”

David pulled the stake from his belt and hurled it around to strike. Richard was so captivated by the game of chess; he had not even seen David walk up.

“I always find,” the Vampire had continued. “The most dangerous pieces, are the pieces we don’t see.”

David brought the stake around to plant into the vampire’s chest, right where the heart would be, exactly where the book instructed. The vampire did not even react as the stake embedded itself deep within its chest, puncturing through the ribcage with a sickening thud. Richard retreated backward at the sudden ruckus, knocking over some of the pieces that still sat on the board. David retreated a step and found he had brandished his longsword on the backstep. Its metal sang as it left its sheath as if excited to finally be swung again.

The vampire only sat there, unmoving, its head slowing looking down at the stake lodged tightly in its ribcage. No explosion of ash or burning of flame, like David, had expected, only solemn and silent acknowledgment. Richard screamed and hit the ground under the table, covering his eyes to shield the sight of his impaled opponent. David was relieved when no guards came to assist. He would not have wanted to cut down men he regarded as friends a mere week ago.

“Well struck Sir Longbow,” The vampire said raising to his feet. “Exactly where the book stated.” The creature clapped its gloved hand's cutlery and smiled. His pale complexion was magnified by its obsidian robes and around its head, David saw black spots as large as eggs, circle from temple to ear. The black spots suddenly opened, revealing beetle black eyes that reflected the light. David felt his bladder release to run hot piss down his leg. He felt his sword hand tremble, but his fingers tighten.

The creature walked forward, abandoning the stake that remained in its chest. Then David heard another set of steps, from behind. He whirled around sword in hand and was about to bring it down before he realized it was the Duchess of Leeside. She was as pale as curdled milk; her eyes were open ever so lazily and her steps faltered as she pandered forward.

“Your Grace.” the creature announced. David turned, his fear giving way to anger. He backed up into his Duchess and raised up his sword.

“I, Sir David Longbow, Knight to the city of Leeside, Servant of the Empire, and protector of man, sentence you to death!”

The creature lowered its head to cast eyes darker than night to gaze at David. If not for his Duchess behind him, her soft skin pressed against his back, David thought he might have fled at the sight of such eyes.

“A sole Pawn can never take a King,” The creature bellowed, its voice a sinew of hate and anguish. “See what I have become!”

The blackness exploded and every muscle in David’s body seized in preparation for what was to happen. An explosion of carapace and black flesh erupted from the creature’s core, the stake that lay lodged in the creature's body exploded outwards like an arrow, puncturing David in the stomach, he reeled backward and fell, the Duchess falling beneath him. The creature enlarged to fill up much of the chamber, long legs sprouting from all angles to form a set of eight, the bulbous body loomed over David, swallowing him in its shadow. David opened his mouth to scream, but only heard the scream of an eight-year boy somewhere distant. The darkness ate him, and David’s last thoughts were of Lianne.