The Vampire & Her Witch

In a waiting chamber within the arena, several members of Tausau’s Mongrel Horde milled before the large iron gate, waiting for their turn to enter the arena to fight and feed.

”Remember everyone,” Heila told the anxious-looking, misshapen vampires. ”Even though the people you will encounter in the arena have been given weapons to fight for their lives, they have been sentenced to die here for their crimes.”

At first, Heila had been uncomfortable with the tradition practiced in High Fen City. Executions in the arena weren’t common, but they weren’t uncommon either. Once a month, the arena would serve as a convict’s last hope of saving their own life, but the arena always chose the opponents of these convicts carefully. Upsets, where a convict won their freedom, were so rare that they were talked about for years.

The entire situation struck her as a farce, a show of pretend mercy while the truth was that criminals were executed in a slow, cruel manner for the entertainment of the crowd. When High Lady Erna discussed offering up this batch of convicts to Nyrielle to feed the vampires who had come under her banner, Heila’s first reaction had been to reject the notion, fearing that it would upset Lady Nyrielle and Ashlynn as well.

It wasn’t until High Lady provided a list of crimes that Heila lost her hesitation about the manner in which these beasts parading as people would be made to die.

”Are they, are they strong fighters?” the timid voice of a woman named Laya asked from among the vampires. ”Master Tausau and the stronger vampires of the horde used to hunt bandits and raiders to bring back to the weaker members of the Horde,” she explained, gesturing at herself and the other vampires around her. ”But we could never take down such violent men by ourselves.”

The woman who spoke wasn’t much taller than Heila and her deformities were particularly severe. She possessed the elongated jaw and stocky build of the Ancient Clan but her scales were light and delicate, like the scales of a newborn member of the Scaled Clan, and from the look of her, she’d never shed the soft scales she was born with.

She was thinner than any member of the Ancient Clan that Heila had ever seen and would likely be overpowered by children from the powerfully built clan who were little more than a dozen summers old. Her glittering golden eyes, however, seemed to hold a deeper intelligence born of the years of suffering that she must have endured to reach Tausau’s sanctuary for the Clanless.

”Not everyone who deserves to die is guilty of crimes that only a strong warrior could commit,” Heila said gently, placing a hand on the trembling vampire’s shoulder. ”One of the men standing against you preyed on children. I won’t speak of the things he did to them, but he was most fond of tender young boys,” she said in a tone that was fierce and dark.

”Another man was caught using the lifeblood of women to perform his sorcery,” Heila explained as she turned to the other vampires. ”He hired women for a night of companionship before consuming their flesh and making totems from their bones in an attempt to regain his lost youth.”

”Each of the people you’re about to face tonight is guilty of the most unspeakable crimes,” Heila said loudly. ”Their deaths tonight are a warning that some things will never be tolerated. They are a reminder that those who relish in the suffering of others will die suffering for the entertainment of the crowd.”

”They will fight back,” Tausau said from a corner of the room before striding out in front of his people. ”But they will be untrained and feeble warriors. Kill them however you wish, but do not play with your food,” he cautioned. ”Even a starved rat can still bite. Protect each other,” he added with a firm look that swept over all of his people.

”Lady Nyrielle is giving us a chance to tear down the human invaders who almost destroyed my brother Torbin’s nation,” Tausau said with freshly awakened rage smoldering in his eyes. ”Don’t die on these sands. Tonight, these people aren’t your enemies,” he reminded them. ”They’re your food!”

”Tonight, you feast,” Heila told them as the gate began to rise. ”Take whatever weapons you wish,” she added, gesturing to a rack of well-worn weapons. ”Or use your own claws and fangs. Whatever you do tonight, I promise you, the people will learn that the Mongrel Horde should never be pitied, only feared!”

Heila’s words served as a rallying cry for the quartet of vampires who were preparing to rush out in the first wave of battles. Some grabbed swords or axes, but Laya knew nothing about using any of those weapons. Instead, she grabbed a heavy flagged mace as she strode out onto the bright sands of the arena.

Heila’s words had sparked something in Laya’s chest. It wasn’t quite courage, but more of a a desperate need to prove the diminutive witch right. The heavy flanged mace she selected felt awkward in her grip, but its weight promised to make up for her lack of strength and it didn’t take much skill to hit someone with a weapon that was effectively a heavy metal club.

Torches and oil lamps burned everywhere, transforming the nighttime scene into one that felt as bright as day and for several moments, the vampires of the Mongrel Horde stood blinking in the bright lights, uncertain about what they should do.

”Mommy, mommy, what are those? Those aren’t people are they?”

”This is cruel, isn’t it? Executing the Clanless for sport in front of everyone?”

”Won’t it offend the Blood Princess to see such weaklings in the arena? Why are these freaks even here?”

The words spoken by the crowd were hushed, though a few children were quite a bit louder with their unguarded words. None of that mattered to the sensitive ears of the vampires on the sands. As Tausau’s progeny, no one in the Tangled Wood or any of the territories it controlled dared to speak those words in the presence of the Mongrel Horde and it had been decades since any of his progeny had felt themselves subjected to the all too familiar ridicule of their childhoods.

That ridicule lit a fire deep in Laya’s heart, a heart she’d felt had grown too small over the years to feel such abject humiliation and anger. That fire only grew hotter when the iron gates on the far side of the arena opened to admit the convicts who had come here to die.

There were eight of them all told, from the Horned Clan, the Clan of Painted Masks, the Glass Eyed Clan, and more. Some of them looked worse for wear after spending close to a month in captivity while others looked relatively fresh, wearing white tunics and dark trousers that wouldn’t draw much attention if you were to pass them on the street.

It wasn’t the men themselves that lit Laya’s heart ablaze. It was the cheers that accompanied their arrival. The audience didn’t know who the heroes were or that the villains, men guilty of unspeakable crimes, were the ones they were cheering for!

How twisted and unfair did life have to be for the crowd to cheer these beasts masquerading as people over the vampires of the Mongrel Horde who had come to execute them? She wouldn’t stand for it!