Flesh Wounds Read online

  “We need to find you something to eat. Normally I’d say nothing but the best, but it wouldn’t bode well for our family’s reputation if a few nobles starting going missing in our kingdom. Peasant will have to do.” Akasha couldn’t believe the audacity of her mother, but she was right. If she didn’t quell her thirst soon, the first person she laid eyes upon was going to end up her victim.

  “Do what you must, Mother. I suppose you can tell the people I am fully recovered from my illness.” She had pieced together what must have happened while she was unconscious: Maharet had quarantined her to keep the secret. Akasha, for all the hatred she had towards the woman, was grateful for her mother’s insight- if word got out, she would have been burned at the stake.

  “Of course- how else will you accept King’s Enkil’s proposal?” This information shocked Akasha to her core.

  What proposal?

  Kingdom of Lunaria Midnight Trail, 1551

  “As much as I appreciate going on holiday, you have failed to mention the destination, Mother. Care to enlighten us?”

  Akasha was beginning to grow impatient- they had been traveling for hours, and nothing looked familiar. The scenery that she observed from the carriage window was beautiful, she couldn’t deny that, but the endless forests grew monotonous after a while.

  “You are familiar with King Enkil, are you not?” Of course she was- part of her royal education included extensive study of all the kingdoms in the Enchanted Forest and their ruling families. And of the monarchs she learned about, King Enkil was, in her opinion, rather arrogant and out of touch with his people. She was glad he was already married, for she had no desire to be wed to a man that did nothing but throw extravagant balls and drink excess amounts of wine.

  “Certainly. I hope we didn’t come to attend a celebration, I left my best attire back in the palace.”

  Her father gave her a stern look for the sassy retort- the less angry she made Mahret, the better for both of them.

  “His Majesty has graciously given us the use of his seaside villa in return for upholding his trade agreement. I thought you’d be grateful; you love the beach.”

  “Hm.” Akasha hummed, wondering if her mother had any ulterior motives for this trip. It wouldn’t be the first time- when she was sixteen, Mahret used her birthday ball as a cover to invite all the eligible princes to the palace. Akasha turned them all down, of course. She would marry for love, not power.

  “Mahret, do you hear that?” Henry’s question cut the mounting tension, causing both women to turn their heads in the direction he was looking. Another high pitched scream reverberated through the air.

  “It appears that someone’s horse has gone wild.” Mahret drawled, putting emphasis on the word horse.

  “Is no one going to help?” Akasha yelled, motioning to their driver to halt the carriage.

  “What do you think you’re doing? You’ll get killed!” Henry tried, in vain, to grab onto his daughter, but she had already departed the carriage and was detaching one of the horses from its harness.

  “Only if I fail.” Quickly mounting the black stallion, Akasha raced as fast as possible towards the panicked horse and rider. As she got closer, she realized that the rider was a ten-year-old girl holding on to her mount for dear life.

  “Help me, please!”

  “Grab my hand!” There was no hesitation from the young girl, allowing Akasha to pull her onto her own horse- the out of control chestnut mare galloping away.

  Bringing the stallion to a gradual stop, Akasha dismounted first to assist her more inexperienced companion.

  “Are you alright?”

  “I think so.” A bit shaken up, but Akasha could see no physical injuries. She let out an exhale of relief.

  “I’m Princess Margaret .” The girl said, offering a hand for Akasha to shake.

  “Princess Akasha, nice to meet you.” While it was odd that this girl would turn out to be the daughter of King Leopold, the reason why her family was on this holiday, Akasha didn’t think anything of it. The two girls shared a hug before an older man, presumably the king, caught up to them.

  “Margaret ! Are you hurt, my dove?”

  “I’m fine, Father, Akasha saved me!” Enkil turned to her with a grateful expression, offering a polite smile.

  “Thank you, Princess. I don’t know what I would have done if Margaret had gotten hurt.”

  “Daddy, I never said she was a princess. How did you know?”

  “Because that’s Queen Mahret approaching us, dear.”

  Akasha internally groaned, couldn’t her mother just stay in the carriage until she returned unharmed? It wasn’t like she was a novice equestrian, after all. But no, Mahret wouldn’t miss an opportunity to mingle with other royals.

  “Good afternoon, Enkil. I imagine you and Margaret were out for a ride?”

  “Indeed, and it seems Margaret will be in need of a new horse. I don’t know what happened to spook it- but it ran off like nothing I’ve ever witnessed.”

  Mahret gushed how wonderful it was that Margaret was alright, then offered condolences for the loss of his wife. Queen Amura was dead?

  “Daddy, can Akasha play with me?” The girl tugged on the hem of her father’s riding vest impatiently.

  “If that suits the lady. Ask politely, Margaret .”

  Before Akasha could give her answer, Mahret replied for her.

  “What a wonderful idea! Why don’t you and Margaret go have lunch, there’s plenty of food in our carriage, Akasha.”

  It wasn’t an awful suggestion, and she was definitely hungry.

  “Come with me, Princess. Let’s see what delicious sweets they packed for us!” The two of them walked off, leaving Mahret and Leopold alone.

  “I’m so thankful for your daughter, my lady. She saved Margaret ’s life.”

  “Akasha has a kind heart, and she loves children.”

  “Qualities that appeal to her fiancée, I’m sure. He’s a lucky man.”

  “Akasha is not engaged. We never had any offers that were suitable.”

  That information came as a surprise to Leopold. How had no one expressed interest in such a beautiful young woman before? A woman that seemed to take a shine to his daughter…

  . “In that case, I would like to ask for her hand. I haven’t seen anyone care for Margaret like that since my wife died.

  Would she be agreeable?” Mahret couldn’t contain her glee, flashing the king a beaming smile.

  “She’d be delighted! I must tell Henry immediately!

  Chapter 4

  What Dwells Within

  Kingdom of Lunaria Eternal Mountains, 1328

  He never believed in destiny, for he had witnessed the consequences of such wistful thinking firsthand. As a young boy, they didn’t have much. His mother had died in childbirth, and his father was a drunk that swindled people out of their possessions. It was to help them get by, his father said, to buy them a better life.

  Dracula was as optimistic as a ten-year-old boy could be, and turned a blind eye. It was their destiny, said Malcolm, to have extraordinary wealth. To live in a manor with servants. To want for nothing ever again. And for a few years Dracula believed him. And then, Malcolm abandoned him. Left him with a few old spinners and ran off, avoiding all his responsibilities. And good riddance, Dracula thought that day. He was much better off without his neglectful father and his falsehoods. A cycle that he did not want to repeat with his son, which was why he was alone in the middle of the woods, unprotected, in the dark of the night.

  “I’m right back where I started!” The stressed father yelled in frustration, recognizing the small hamlet where he started the morning. Another day, wasted. Abraham was one day closer to death and he had nothing to show for it. He was useless, just like his father.

  Preoccupied with berating himself, Dracula failed to notice that a woman had approached him, arms outstretched to prevent him from striking the nearest tree.

  “Pardon me sir, but I couldn’t help
but notice your distress. What has you in such a state?”

  She was unlike any woman that he had seen before. Her skin was as pale as moonlight, and she was dressed in a garment that was one hundred years out of fashion. But that wasn’t what struck him the most: her eyes were an unnatural shade of blue, which matched the way she looked at him.

  “I didn’t catch your name, my dear.” The odd woman chuckled, as if expecting that reaction.

  “I didn’t give it. Ingrid Harker, if you must know. But that still leaves my question unanswered.”

  “It’s my son, he’s very ill. I was told an item in the Eternal Mountains could heal him, that I needed to consult the Count of Wallachia. Do you know where I could find him?” A flash of shock crossed Ingrid’s face, and then she quickly regained her composure.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. It’s best if you come with me, Dracula. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Dracula froze. How did she know his name?

  You hesitate. My master has been expecting your arrival for some time. Your mention of his title gave you away, I’m afraid.” Although he didn’t exactly trust this woman, she had the information he needed. It was in his best interests if he played along.

  “Whomever you spoke to only gave you partial information. While it’s true that the castle is situated atop the Eternal Mountains, you weren’t able to find the Forbidden Fortress because it’s enchanted.”

  Well wasn’t that just great? How was he supposed to know? Damn seers and their vague instructions.

  “Lead the way, then. I suspect it’ll take us a day or two to reach the summit.”

  She grinned. He didn’t like the looks of that.

  “A few days? I was thinking a few seconds!”

  Before Dracula could respond, Ingrid had lunged forward, enveloping the two of them in a ruby red cloud of smoke. When the smoke evaporated, they were gone.

  Kingdom of Lunaria Forbidden Fortress, 1328

  The pair reappeared in a valley created by the space in between the mountain’s two twin peaks, but only one of them landed on their feet.

  “What the bloody hell did you just do?” Dracula mumbled from his sprawled out position on the ground, face down in six inches of Maragret .

  It’s called magic, young one. Or hadn’t you noticed our method of transportation?

  ” Not bothering to help him up, Ingrid began waltzing down the icy roadway at a brisk pace.

  “Traveling through air and ending up in a vastly different climate?”

  He spat, dusting the layers off his cloak.

  “Yes, I did indeed notice.”

  Dracula had caught up with his companion, taking in the endless row of pine trees on either side of them.

  “I apologize for the premature winter; my sister prefers the cold.”

  At this statement, Dracula assumed her sister had magic as well, and was causing the arctic weather.

  Choosing not to reply, they continued on for five minutes until they came to a path that diverged upwards, towards the mountain’s west peak. It was hard to make anything out in the blizzard-like conditions, but Dracula thought he saw what resembled a castle situated on top of a flat piece of land.

  “Your master’s homestead, I assume?”

  “Yes, now come. We’re already late.”

  Not wanting to give this count a reason to dislike him, the weary traveler let himself be pulled along by this mysterious woman, silently wondering if this effort would all be for naught.

  “Wait here.” Ingrid instructed, standing him by the door, before quickly disappearing into the shadows of the foyer.

  Shuddering from the cold, Draculas drew his cloak tighter around his shoulders and took in the state of the castle.

  It had clearly seen better days. The grand marble staircase was crumbling in certain places, pieces of it missing, even, and some of the stained glass windows at the end of the hall were cracked and broken. Cobwebs had fully covered the vaulted ceilings and began drifting down to the marble support columns. The decrepit atmosphere was accentuated by the lack of light- the castle’s interior only made visible by scattered torches on the stone walls. It was hardly suitable for living in, he thought, but he had no say in the matter.

  After some time, Ingrid returned, walking alongside an older gentleman and a younger blonde woman. Right away, Dracula noticed that all three had the same sickly disposition, which piqued his interest. Something was going on here, and he had a feeling he was about to find out what.

  The two women guided the man into a rather imposing throne and sat on either side of him, like dutiful servants, but how often did servants dress like noblewomen? The man pointed his index finger directly at him and beckoned him closer.

  “At last we meet, Dark Child.

  There was that name again, Dark Child. But how did he know?

  Dracula took a look at his attire, and the fact that he was seated on the throne, and reasoned that this was the Count in front of him.

  “I was told you were expecting me, my lord.” The man said nothing, his intense stare boring into Dracula soul. Was he supposed to keep talking?

  “My son is ill, my lord. A seer informed me about seeking your help, said that only you could cure him.”

  The chuckle that escaped the Count’s lips was low and piercing, which sent shivers down his spine. He needed to escape this accursed place as soon as possible.

  “I’m aware of Abraham’s condition. But before we discuss business, I must formally introduce my two wives.

  Lucy, on my left, and Ingrid, on my right.” Was this the sister that Lucy mentioned earlier?

  “You’ve already met Ingrid, and Ingrid is my newest wife, the former crown princess of Amendable.

  She’s responsible for the climate- her magic is still out of control.”

  Ingrid turned and raised an eyebrow at her husband, as if questioning the exchange of information.

  “It’s alright Ingrid, he won’t be leaving here the same way he came.”

  The Count turned back towards Dracula to clear up any confusion on the matter.

  “You might have heard about her disappearance; I can assure you it was all a simple…misunderstanding. Her father owed me a debt, so I took what was mine.”

  The picture was becoming clearer in Dracula’s mind. Princess Ingrid had indeed gone missing from Amendable, he had heard the story, but that happened over fifty years ago. The woman sitting in front of him didn’t appear to have aged a day.

  “Now, about your son, what are you prepared to offer me in return?” He gulped, that was something that slipped his mind.

  “All I have are a few gold coins.”

  The Count took a moment to consider this, then leaned forward- his face now fully visible in the torchlight.

  “It’ll cost more than that for a vial of my venom, boy.” Venom? That was the cure?

  “Pardon me, my lord, but I don’t understand.”

  “Didn’t the seer tell you? My formal title is Count of Wallachia, but you may know me as Count Marious.”

  Dracula froze in horror- the man before him was indeed king of the vampires, long thought to be just a myth.

  “Still want to make that deal, Dark One? I am willing to trade my venom…for a price.” Marious, having magic of his own, brought the shaking human closer with a wave of his hand.

  “My wives and I are starving for a decent meal, so here’s my offer: your blood, my venom.”

  Both women had gotten up from their thrones, fangs primed and at the ready, waiting for the signal from their master.

  “No! Please, you’ll kill me!” Dracula was frantic, trying in vain to escape from Marious grasp.

  Is that what you think? I need you alive, foolish human, in order for you to become the Dark Child.”

  Marious had successfully pinned him to the ground, neck fully exposed. “Now then, ladies first!”

  It all happened in a blur- he saw Ingrid and Lucy lean over his body, and shortly after felt the pain of two separa
te bites on his wrists (saving the best for their husband). Venom entered his bloodstream, and he screamed to high heaven, hoping that someone would hear him. It was useless: once Marious finally sunk his own fangs into his neck, he lost consciousness.

  Chapter 5

  From Dusk Till Dawn

  Kingdom of Lunaria Eternal Mountains, 1228

  How much longer, my lord? The men are weary and cold.”

  “We should reach the fortress before sundown, if we keep to this pace.”

  “And what do you expect to find there? We passed at least five vacant castles that would have done the job.”

  “There’s a rumor that this fortress is filled with the gold of ten kingdoms.

  With it, we can maintain our army long enough to invade Transylvania.”

  General Helsing nodded at his superior and turned his horse around to fill in the rest of the chain of command. He knew there was going to be uproar from his men, but they were quickly running out of funds for the rebellion they were leading. And that news would surely cause them to lose support from the nomadic tribes.

  “If my dear brother believes he is winning this war, he has another thing coming.” Count Marious declared, charging ahead of his troops towards the looming fortress in the distance.

  The Count and his followers had suspected that whoever inhabited the castle would not agree to parting with their treasure, and entered the stone structure prepared for a fight. To their surprise, the many piles of gold trinkets and jewels were left unguarded. At least, they appeared to be.

  “Do we just…take it then?” General Helsing asked, tentatively reaching for a golden lamp.

  “Don’t touch anything!” The Count snapped, slapping the valuable object out of his hand. “It’s too good to be true! Whoever lives here can’t be far.”

  The Count didn’t know how correct he was: the act of touching just one piece of treasure triggered the castle’s magical defenses.

  “Indeed.” All the men were startled by the female sounding disembodied voice, and frantically searched the room to find its origins.