‘May the saints protect us!’ whispered Wulf, backing away.
On the floor at our feet was a skull, the lower jaw missing but the upper intact. Teeth were still embedded in the bone, most of them apparently normal. But the two canines on either side of the incisors were twice as long as the others and wickedly sharp.
Mace picked up the skull, turning it in his hands. ‘These teeth are hollow,’ he said, tapping the canines.
‘Leave it be, Mace,’ hissed Wulf. ‘You can see what it is, damn you!’It’s a skull,’ said Mace. He swung to me. ‘Vampyre?’I nodded dumbly. ‘I would say so.’Well, well! Do you think it’s worth anything?’Not to me,’ I told him.
Throw it back into the cellar,’ urged Wulf. ‘It is a thing of evil.’Perhaps,’ said Mace, dropping the skull back into the shattered box. Picking up the bow he had found for Wulf, he crossed to where the hunchback stood. ‘Take a look at this. It’s metal, but it weighs next to nothing and I cannot see how it was strung.’Wulf, with one last nervous glance at the box containing the skull, took the weapon and I moved forward to examine it with him. Much shorter than a longbow, but longer than the hunting-bows used by Angostin scouts, it was sharply curved, the string disappearing into the bow tips.
‘No range,’ said Wulf. Pulling an arrow from his quiver he notched it and drew back the string, aiming the shaft at the frame of the door. The arrow leapt from the bow, struck the beam and shattered.
‘Try one of these,’ offered Mace, pulling a black-shafted arrow from one of the quivers he had thrown from the cellar. The arrow was of metal; even the flights, which looked like raven feathers, were in fact metallic and stiff.
Wulf drew back on the string once more and the shaft sang through the air, punching home into the wood of the frame and burying itself deep.
Not one of us, not even the mighty Piercollo, could pull it loose.
‘Have you ever seen weapons like these, Owen?’ Mace asked me.
‘No. According to legend, the swords and arrows of Rabain’s men were of the purest silver, in order to slay the Undead. They were said to shine with starlight when Vampyres were near. I doubt it was true. More likely Horga cast an enchantment, an illusion to lift the spirits of the warriors.’For some time Wulf and Mace examined the weapons. The swords and daggers were lighter than any I had seen, and incredibly sharp. Mace put aside his own longsword, replacing it with a black blade and scabbard. The hilt was wound with black wire, and there was even a dark gem in the pommel that reflected no gleam of light from the fire. Wulf took two short swords and I acquired a long hunting-knife, double-edged. Piercollo refused a weapon, but Ilka also chose a short sword, curved like a small sabre, which she belted to her slim waist.
We ate sparingly, for our supplies were low, and then sat talking
for a while. Mace asked me to tell a story about the Elder Days, one he had not heard. I could think of nothing new and so I told him of the death of Rabain, murdered by his son two years after the Great Battle and the ending of the reign of the Vampyre Kings. The son died soon after – slain, some fables have it, by Horga the Enchantress. And the land descended into bloody civil war.
That’s a fine tale to end a day with,’ grumbled Mace. Piercollo and Wulf were already asleep, while Ilka sat staring into the dying fire, lost in thoughts she could not share.
‘I am sorry, Jarek. My mood is dark. What would you like to hear?’Tell me of the Great Parade when Rabain was made King.’I’ve told you that a score of times.’I know – but I like parades. I like the idea of riding into a city and having the crowds throw flowers before me, making a carpet of blooms. And young women waving from balcony windows, blowing kisses and promises.’I looked at him for a moment in the dying light. ‘Who are you, Jarek Mace?’ I asked him.