The Bloody Throne.

[CoSurvivor]

William O'Connor was a tall lanky young man, his dirty unwashed hair hid his real hair color which was a dirty blonde color, but his eyes were as green as jade, a contrast to the rest of him. His skinny frame made him the but of any number of jokes, gaining the nickname of “Stick” he had almost nothing to him. Given that he had a rather unhealthy appearance, he kept to himself, never said much to anyone, and kept his eyes squarely on his feet if he wasn't working behind the anvil. William was, however, dedicated to his work, he was an apprentice to the blacksmith he worked for. The man was kind enough to allow him to sleep in the loft of his barn, at least the extra company there kept the thieves away from stealing cattle, or the boarded horses. The life he now leads was only a meager one, he hoped to one day join the crusades and leave the past behind. He planned to try and join the next party going east, to the war hope to help recapture Jerusalem from the Mores.

Five years ago his life had been a good one, his home, or at least his family home was on a small parcel of land they were working for their lord who allowed them to stay there, so long as their lord received a portion of their crops every year. However, after 2 years of terrible crops, they were left with almost nothing to feed themselves after the Lord had taken his share. Something never seemed right with their Lord Altimish. A large man, rather imposing, Will never saw his face directly, as he was always hooded, appearing in the waning daylight hours when the sun had fallen behind the hills but there was some remaining daylight left. Eventually, his appearances became less frequent, eventually, he would send armed men who worked for him. Men, riding on massive black horses cloaked in black who rode through their fields observing their crops. Will never made eye contact with these men, but he knew these men could end their lives on a whim.

On the last night of his normal life, William was roused from sleep by his father to help investigate their barn. The family owned a large pair of oxen, a few horses, and pigs. The pigs were squealing maddeningly. William grabbed the only field tools he could find to defend himself, so with a large scythe raised high, he followed his father to investigate. What hey found would give William endless nightmares for years to come.

As they opened the barn door, William's father held a small lantern high in front of them as they heard one of their oxen flailing. Turning to the stall where it was, someone was hunkered down over its neck. Will's father, shown the lantern in that direction and were shocked by what they saw. Both father and son stepped back, aghast at the sight of Lord Altimish drinking blood from a spurting artery in it's neck. Noticing the light, the man turned, smiled, with eyes as red as hell and his face smeared with blood. Quicker than either could react, Lord Altimish jumped at Will's father, the lantern fell to the floor of the barn causing the oil from the lantern to splatter against a support post catching it on fire.

In an attempt to save his father, William swung the scythe, he had, stabbing Lord Altimish in the back. However the damage had been done, his father lay dead, he could see his lifeless body, his eyes staring off into the darkness. William tried to wrench the scythe free, to attack again but it only infuriated the man or creature as it were. William ran, but the creature attacked, grasped him by the throat and choked him until he passed out.

Awakening many hours later, in the open field between their home and the barn, Will had no idea how long he'd laid there. However long it was, the barn had burned to the ground. Will wasn't just worried about his father, but of his mother and sister. Their home had been destroyed, mostly burned to the ground as well by spreading embers of the fire. Searching the wreckage Will found no trace of his mother or his younger sister Diana. There was nothing he could save and with the clothes on his back William walked way a ghost of his former self. The days after were a blur, he walked for days, days may have become weeks, he wasn't sure but he eventually collapsed on the doorstep of Whitestone's blacksmith shop. The old burly man took him in, and has given him a sense of purpose ever since. Now, 5 years removed from that horrific night, Will's nights were filled with a bit of dread each time he'd rest his head upon a straw-stuffed pillow.

The blazing red eyes of the creature Lord Altimish became that night looked through him, and instead of charging his father, Lord Altimish would leap upon him, striking through his throat bathing in his blood. What was he? Had he become a demon? His father had been a man of faith, but his mother had never deeply shared his views. It was something about losing their third child during pregnancy that had killed a part of her, destroyed her faith in something more. At least that's what his father had told him.

There were times when will would be at the anvil, banging away at a molten shaft of steel, crafting an ax, dreaming of a time when he might cleave Lord Altimish in two, or bury the blade into his head. But no earthly weapon could harm the creature, Will was certain he'd sunk the blade of the scythe nearly halfway into the man, knowing nobody could survive an injury like that. Will hoped that his dreams may one day be calm, that he might one day have a night of sleep without nightmares. But he'd accepted his fate, and if it plagued him to the end of his days, he'd live with it, so long as Lord Altimish never visited him in person again. To keep himself out of the way, William treated others better than they did him, trying not to draw attention to himself, insults were just words, broken bones heal as they often did. Would his life ever turn positive? Will didn't know, all he did know was that he had to keep himself hidden for now, and eventually he'd be able to get away from the memories.

On this particular night, Will nursed a bloodied brow, the magistrate's son Howard had paid a visit to the shop, demanding that his horse be re-shoed before his long ride across the valley tomorrow. He'd come with his father's walking cane, a beautiful long shaft of rosewood with a silver falcon head on the pommel. Howard hadn't taken kindly to the decline of services and had him a few times, eventually leaving, but Will knew he'd have to rise early and shoe the horse, as Howard would return early, just as he said he would. If the horse wasn't ready, he'd catch another such beating, Mr Whitestone would, of course, intercede, but not before Howard would get in at least a good hit or two. It was always this way…

Or would it be? Will dreamed of breaking that cane over his head and stabbing him through the heart with it, but that would attract attention, the attention he didn't want, and he had to simply blend in… He could only hope the next group of Templars was heading east soon… As he laid his throbbing head down on the straw mattress he'd made, he dreamed of other things, hoping his nightmares would not return…

 

[Perplexia]

Victoria Jorgenson or V as she was commonly called. Had been alive for 300 long years. She was 20 when her husband a Lord, and much older man had died.

He hadn't been a cruel man, but he wasn't what dreams where made of in the way of a young girls hopes of a husband. Her family hailed from Norway. When the Lord told her father that he wanted her. There was no dispute. It was merely a business transaction like she was a cow.

As a Lady, she was encouraged and chased after by many suitors. After coming across one that was less then a gentlemen she began hiring tutors in fencing, knife throwing, hand to hand combat and archery. She was a natural, and with little else to do, she practically lived, ate and breathed these unladylike behaviors.

It was during the inspection of one of her lands where she came across a man assaulting a young woman. When confronted he turned on her. It was the first time she killed a man. More men would follow seeking justice and challenging her. It became a game of sorts. One she would always win.

Word of the Lady Warrior had spread reaching the ear of Lord Altimish, there was a human woman that was not only a lady, but a warrior. Her skill level seemingly was greater then many of his male assassins. Being a procurer of all that was rare, he had to have her.

The Lord could have just taken her, but that would cause resentment. The last thing he wanted was to make an enemy out of the woman that was to be his secret weapon. So he approached her and gained her friendship and trust before he revealed the monster he truly was and offered her a job working for him as his assassin.

V countered the offer, she would become a vampire at age of 22, and work for him as a free agent. That meant she could turn down jobs, as well as take others if they were offered. She would be payed higher then any man, and it would be forbidden to touch her. Any that dared would face the penalty of death.

Though unusual, he admired her tenacity and agreed to her demands. She was then turned and became a vampire assassin. A woman with a mind of her own was rare enough for this world she lived in. But one that could take a life with no remorse and soon grew to have the reputation as an assassin for hire was a whole different story.

During her time as an assassin the Lord was never dissatisfied with her work. Even though she took liberty with playing with her food from time to time to avoid the monotony of it. He never presumed to tell her how to handle her affairs, just simply gave a name.

It wasn't until some 200+ years later that he gave her a name with stipulations. She was to find a young William O'Conner and kill him with haste. She was not to feed from him or turn him. Well this was an odd request. He'd never dared tell her how to do her job before. Taking the job, if anything out of curiosity of what this lord was keeping secret, she set forth with inquiries looking for the boy.

 

[CoSurvivor]

He'd tried to sleep, he remembered the wailing, the sound of the oxen groaning out loud as they were murdered that night, His father Edward had lead the way, a large axe in his hand, lantern in the other. They opened one of the barn doors and looked inside as his father raised the lantern high. Then as he turned to see the oxen bloodied on the barn floor he could see Lord Altimish with a beard of blood eyes turned, and grinning... That face.. burned William, and made him jump out of his slumber.

Will rose with a shock, turned to his left and smacked his shoulder against a support beam of the massive horse stable that he now called home. His 'room' or space as he called it was sparse, His space was up in the rafters, a long straight ladder lead the way to his private sanctuary. He'd fashioned a bed out of straw, trying to use a wool blanket to cover it so he had some sort of mattress. His blankets were tattered, old and frayed at the edges, he'd cobbled them together, actually learned how to sew from his mother and sister. If he was to be a man, he was going to be need to be self reliant, mend his own clothes while his family shared in all the duties, both in the home, and in the fields. He remembered seeing his father look over his stitching approvingly,

"Straight and true William, remember to pull the thread three times and knot it, When you grow old enough, and you are on your own, you'll need to know how to mend your own clothes."

The memory was a good one, one of the few he could still remember from a lifetime ago. While some here in this village might have teased him for doing a woman's work, he knew better. If he joined the crusade and traveled to Jerusalem, he'd have to be self reliant. For now, he had to nurse his own head wound.

As he felt along his hairline, Will could feel a knot forming where the Howard had tried to cave in his head with the cane. Blotting the blood on his forehead with his fingers it didn't feel like his skull was cracked, but damn it if he didn't have a headache. Taking his shirt off, he laid it out across the floor and took his knife from it's resting place, tucked next to his bed, held in a simple yet well made scabbard. The knife was simple in it's design but the blade massive, from hilt to tip, the blade reached from the tip of his middle finger, to the crook of his elbow. Garish in size yes, but it was his. He'd worked on it for weeks, honing the blade, getting the tang right, then hollowing out an elk horn and fitting it to the hilt. The grip was balanced and Will could hold it with ease. Taking the blade, he cut a long strip from he bottom of his shirt. He cut one piece off, folded it neatly as his mother had showed him years ago, then held it against the wound as he wrapped the tattered material around his head, It hurt to touch. Give it about a day or so and he'd be fine. His physical health, despite his outward appearance of being a lithe, skinny malnourished young man was quite the opposite, Will had always been an energetic kid, growing up in the fields he'd always been skinny, and despite his mother's attempts to put meat on his bones, and eating every piece of bread he could find, he just couldn't put on weight. His physical strength was also misleading, he was strong enough to help Mr Whitestone, his muscles were nowhere near the massive arms that he had, God knows Mr. Whitestone had arms that were bigger than William's head. Surely they'd come from the man being twice as big as anyone in the Village, well that and more than 40 years behind the anvil. While physically he was ok, mentally and outwardly he reeked. He was unwashed most of the time and as most of his duties kept him in the stables, he could never get clean. His clothes, while yes mended, were worn, and should have been thrown in a fire pit long ago. This was all in addition to the fact that Will just looked unhealthy. He'd taken to cutting what facial hair he had, an most of the time had no hair on his head. a beard could be a work hazard in the shop. and well, it was easier to keep his hair short, than allow it to grow long and be work hazard. right now he had maybe a month's growth of hair on his head, so he looked odd. Over all, from anyone who didn't talk to him, or know him, Will looked like a skinny, unhealthy, malnourished stick of a man, someone who was, well, often mistaken as a beggar, versus an employee in Mr. Whitestone's shop.

There was something though that William never discussed with anyone, not his father, not his mother who at times seemed more distant as he grew older, or his sister who he barely talked to. Will healed faster than any he knew. If anyone found out, he'd be labeled a demon or something far worse. Will remembered the first time he'd noticed that he'd cut himself pretty bad across his right leg while using the scythe to cut down the wheat. He'd taken to bandaging it himself because he didn't want his father to believe he'd been reckless with it, which of course he had been. By morning, he checked the bandage, expecting it to be filled with puss, and festering, instead the wound had nearly healed, leaving but a pink line across his right leg. He'd heard of men and women called witches and warlocks, burned for their demonic behavior anything that couldn't be easily explained was to be feared, and was believed to be the work of evil. More recently though, during his first days working with Mr Whitestone, he'd rested his arm on the central anvil and burned an L shaped blister into his forearm. He'd covered it by lowering his sleeves while he worked, and while he could see on Mr. Whitestone's arms he had numerous scars, William's arm healed in a week. Unusual, yes . Special, no...he never thought of himself as special because nobody had ever considered him such. No... in a world as painful and depressing as his was, hiding such a treasure was a secret... Of course, if Howard knew he healed quickly, it might just encourage him to inflict a more severe beating. Which was something WIll would like to avoid. No.. he'd allow the bandage to remain for a while... Will was alive, that's what mattered.

With his headed bandaged, Will took to opening the hay loft door, unlocking the hinge hook and cracking the door back but just a few feet. Looking out across the Village, he could see most of it with ease, the massive stone building across the way, the magistrate's building which was also his home, This view gave Will an unobstructed view of his world, how small and chaotic it was, Crisscrossed dirty streets and the fowl stench of the city. From here Will could see all of it it's sores, and it's bright spots. One spot of light was the brothel three streets down. There resided the raven haired woman called Miranda, He'd seen her in Mr. Whitestone's shop a time or two, she'd always tried to make eye contact with Will, but his crippling shiness prevented him from returning the gesture. He knew about her, knew the smell of her hair, the warmth of her breasts as the one gift he'd ever been given in his rotten life was a night paid for by Mr. Whitestone. Will had been working for him for about two years, when he'd finally had enough of Will declining his efforts to give him anything, He'd insisted, and under protest he escorted Will to the Brothel where the ladies actually cleaned him up, shaved and bathed him, treating him to an evening of human compassion, an evening of allowing him to explore youthful carnal desires. In the months afterward, and the years that passed, Will often wondered of going back, But again declined Mr. Whitestone's requests to go and enjoy. No. he denied himself such pleasures. knowing he'd be out in the public. On this evening of personal observation he watched as a hooded man traveled through the Village on horseback. Not an unusual sight, well not during the day light hours, but at mid morning when daylight was at least three hours away, it was unusual. The man was dressed in a long cloak which hooded his face, but from what Will could tell he was a traveler and obviously carrying a weapon with his long sword across his back. The hilt printed against the cloak where it covered him. As the man approached from the east, Will had an odd, feeling crawl over his soul, only to have it grow worse as the man looked up and spotted him in the hay loft and slowly made his way to the stables.

Within 15 feet of the stable doors, the man looked up and announced in a deep voice.

"You have an opening in your stable surely, or do you just gawk at every one who comes through?"

"One moment M'lord!" Will announced and with practiced ease slid down the ladder and reached for the bar that held the stable doors closed. Quickly he opened one of the doors and allowed the horsemen to enter. He was built, not like Mr. Whitestone, but a warrior's build. The man drew himself off his horse and handed the reigns to William. "I'll be here for a few days, She will need to be fed and warm. I'll leaving in the evening two days hence, have her ready for me then, with no delay."

The man handed Will coin enough for the going rate without asking, and asked again with emphasis. "Ready... with no delay, saddled and ready."

"Yes M'lord, she will be ready."

"Good..." With no further comment, Will watched the man go, he walked with purpose, heading into the heart of the Village, disappearing as he turned a corner.

-------

In the last two days, life for William had been rather.... uneventful, Howard had left the morning after, with no comment, work streamed into the shop at a regular pace, they were busy, but not overwhelmed. Life was... normal. That evening, when he expected the traveler to be leaving, Will took the time to make sure his horse was saddled and ready, he'd checked the shoes, stirrups and blanket to make sure the fit was good, Secured the belly strap around the horse and gave her it's bit and bridle. Will had just finished cooling a secondary fire in the shop when he noted the traveler walking with purpose toward him, Will immediately went to the stable, lead out his horse and held her calmly as the man approached. As he saddled, taking the reigns from Will and looking out at the Village proper, the activity was dying down for the day,The man looked down on him with a look of mild appreciation. man reached into a belt pocket and pulled a coin flipping it to William, and with no further comment he nudged his horse out of the stables.

Watching the man leave, Will held the coin in hand, feeling his thumb across the face of it. He'd often done this with others trying to feel if the coin was a fake or real. This one felt different, unlike any other. Looking down at the coin in his hand, the stamp was fresh, easily Will could make out a crest, the spread wings of a dragon behind it, An interesting coin to be sure, curious what face may be on the opposite side, Will flipped it, and nearly immediately dropped it into the dirt. Shaking, his hands now sweaty, Will knelt to pick it up almost afraid to touch it. There was no mistake, he couldn't believe his eyes... There on the up turned coin was the profile face of the man who destroyed his life.. Lord Altimish, was now a king.

True fear crept through his bones...

 

[Perplexia]

Keeping people on retainer was something Victoria had developed over the years. It kept her from having to do all the leg work it would take to find someone, and help her finish her jobs quickly.
As in this day and age there wasn't the internet or cell phones. Finding people was a lot harder then it would be in many years to come.

Henrik, Rudolph, Vincent, and Caleb were four of her scouts. The only information she had was where he had lived, his name, and a brief description that was about five years old. It wasn't very much to work on. But she had her four scouts start at the homestead he had lived at and work their way outward.

It would have been nice if William had stayed at his home. But given the report she had of the deserted place made her curious as to what had occurred to make him run. If it had been the King, why did he let the boy live? Of course at that time he hadn't gained official title of King. Could that have had anything to do with it? she wondered.

The sound of metal on stone filled the room as she sharpened her blades and pondered the story that she would get out of him before she finished his life. In her earlier years she was more of a killing machine with little wonder as to the reason why. But now, she craved more then just the quick kill. She liked to make a game out of it. Perhaps it was boredom. After all spending 300 years doing the same thing over and over again could become a bit monotonous.

A few days later she received a report from Rudolph. He'd spent a few days in a small village called Jordan. After inquiries he found out the young blacksmith was who he'd been seeking out. Although it appeared he left he kept an eye out in case the boy fled.

Victoria left right away upon receiving word. It took her a couple nights to reach where Rudolph was hunkered down and form her plan. She sent word to the others to retreat, and had Rudolph remain hidden. Making her way into town on a black stallion, she wore a black mourning evening dress, with a black veil. And rode side saddle.

Making her way to the blacksmith shop she halted her horse. And waited, it was the proper thing to have a gentleman help her dismount. Seeing the young William she held out her hand for assistance. "I need to bored and have Antony here re-shoed. I'll be here for a couple of days at the least. I'll stop by tomorrow evening to check on him."

 

[CoSurvivor]

Will, was now fearful for his life. Looking at the coin he dreaded touching the thing, and while for a good ten minutes he stood there, staring at it, until a drunk came along and looked at Will. In a slurred voice surely that proved the old man was well far gone, he asked, just as much as spat at Will the question:

"You gonna pick that up??"

Will just looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. and in the strongest voice he could find, despite feeling that his throat was as dry as a barren field, he choked it out,

"No."

Leaning down the drunk picked up the coin and bit it, smiling he nodded to Will and walked on into the night. The farther away the coin got from him, the better Will felt. Only now, he wanted to throw up.

He closed down the shop and walked back behind the stables, and in a moment of complete weakness, knowing that the man who'd killed his father, and was responsible for his missing and presumed dead mother and sister, was now a KING. Will cried. he whept like a baby, knowing there was nothing he could do. If this King wanted him dead, which he very well might, all he had to do was reach out... and squash him. The thought alone made Will almost too week to crawl his way up the ladder to the only place he could go. For the first time in many years he was so frightened, he didn't dream, Will was too exhausted to think.

In the morning, Will walked through his chores as if he was sleep walking. He remembered Mr. Whitestone walking through the stabbles on his way into the shop, actually stoping to say good morning as was his usual routine, but Will kept on working, and after about 5 minutes of trying to talk to Will the burly old man left Will to his thoughts. His thoughts however, were nothing anyone would want to hear.

Should he run? Where would he go? Far away from here surely, but when? Surely he'd have to tell Mr. Whitestone. He owed him that much. As he worked Will made his decision, by week's end, he'd be gone, he'd have told Mr Whitestone it was time he pursued the crusade instead of waiting. In his head, Will started going through what posessions he'd carry with him, only to realize, he had but a few. The clothes on his back, his knife, and a blanket. That was it. By the end of the week he'd figure out where to go, and he wouldn't stop running till he got there, and once he did get there, he'd probably keep running too.

That whole day had been a fog, most of the next was too, as Will still hadn't told Mr. Whitestone he was leaving. He was finishing up duties in the shop and making sure the horses boarded there were fed. Looking toward the main entrance to which most business flowed into the shop, Will spoted a young woman, sitting side saddle on a massive stallion. Her face was covered, in mourning, either traveling to someone's funeral, or in mourning for someone who was close. Either way, she was a customer. Taking the small stepping stool from it's resting place just inside the stabble house, Will looked at himself and his current appearance. He looked like someone had dragged him behind a team of horses for a week. Dirty, dusty and he smelled like sweat, he knew he shouldn't be the one to help her down, but he could take her horse.

Will called to Mr Whitestone, who looked up and set down the long pitchfork he was mending.

"One moment M'lady, Mr. Whitestone will help you down."

"Mr Whitestone?"

The large burly hulk of a man was approaching 50, but he still had his graces. Walking to where the young woman was, he took off his gloves, and reached out a hand helping her down the short, but sturdy steps until she was on her feet.

Will stood by, taking the reigns of the horse and waiting for her instructions.

"I need to bored and have Antony here re-shoed. I'll be here for a couple of days at the least. I'll stop by tomorrow evening to check on him."

Will gave her a slight bow and agreed "Yes M'lady, I'll have him shoed fed and ready."

Will admired the steed, 'Antony' as she'd called him was a massive example of how powerful the breed could be. With no other words, Will lead off the horse, as Mr. Whitestone calmly talked to the young woman.

"I'm afraid my help is a bit shy. If I could ever get that young man to stop working for a few minutes he'd probably be less of a dust ball. My apologies miss, I hope you were not offended by his mannerisms."

Whitestone spoke with the authority of an elderstatemen, but was polite and tempered in his tone. He didn't have a mean bone in his body, which was probably why Will had lasted so long. All that hate, all the meanness that had welled up inside him died when his wife passed away some 10 years ago now.

As the old man stood there next to the young woman, he asked, "Is there anything more I can do for you? Directions to an inn? One that won't gouge you and the sheets are clean?"

 

[Perplexia]

The smell of fear reeked of the boy like a delicious chocolate fountain. It took a well of control to keep from sucking him dry in an instant. The boy seemed to be of little threat he may even jump at his own shadow. What could this mouse have possibly done to warrant his death sentence?

"Offended? she replied, no not at all. In-fact if you could get him cleaned up I could use some assistance while i'm here. I will gladly pay you for the use of him, as well as ensure he's compensated at least a years wages for his time. You see, as i'm recently widowed I require a male companion. This is still very much a mans world where a woman has little impression."

Smiling lightly she looked around. "Yes directions would be much appreciated, the nicest inn please."

 

[CoSurvivor]

Whitestone stood a good 6'5" and weighted at least 270, at the age of 54 he was older than most, and well he'd seen so much, that nothing surprised him. Well, at least till now.

In-fact if you could get him cleaned up I could use some assistance while i'm here. I will gladly pay you for the use of him, as well as ensure he's compensated at least a years wages for his time. You see, as i'm recently widowed I require a male companion. This is still very much a mans world where a woman has little impression.

Whitestone looked at this young woman for a moment, giving her a near suspicious glance.

"I would miss, I'd have him cleaned up yesterday as a matter of fact. I'm afraid your offer of a years wages while a good bit generous would be lost on him. My honesty is not meant as an insult, believe me when I tell you I've been trying to pay him for 5 years and he'll not take a coin. He simply looks after the horses in the stable and helps in the shop. He's good behind the anvil, skilled with his hands, but damned if he cares not for his own appearance."

"I'll try, he could use the company of a fair lady such as yourself. He could use a bit of socializing, so I'll have a talk with him. If he agrees I'll have him meet you at your rooms, agreed?"

Whitestone then pointed toward the center of the village and commented "The broken horn" is where I suggest you stay, a woman named Margaret runs the place, she'll set you up. Just take the main street about four blocks, you'll see a sign with an obvious broken trumpet, can't be missed."

Whitestone waited till she left and then pursued Will. "William, young man I've a favor to ask you..."

----

Will felt like a stuffed peacock, grudgingly he'd agreed to 2 days service with the young widow whose name he never got, although if she went to Inn that Mr. Whitestone had suggested, he'd find her easily. Mr. Whitestone had threatened to kick him out of the stables if he didn't go, so grudgingly he did as asked, and cleaned up as best he could. Which meant taking a bucket bath in an unused stall. He shaved his head and face clean, put on a shirt, pants, boots, and belt that just so happened to be his size... After 5 years of watching Will, Mr. Whitestone had sized him up and had the ladies at the brothel who also ran a seamstress shop fix up something for Will. It was supposed to be a gift, one he'd not gotten around to giving him, as Will was never clean enough to try it all on.

About an hour later Will walked in through the front door to the broken horn and looked about the central room, a great room with a two-sided fireplace and a grand staircase that lead upstairs to the second and third floors. He waited there, expecting to find the young woman who'd summoned him.

"Make yourself at home Will. I'll have one of the girls let our new guest know you are here," said Margaret, the Inn owner. She was an older woman about Mr. Whitestone's age, her husband had died a few years before and now her and her three daughters ran the place. Will paced, he felt on display, wearing silly clothes, that were not his own made his skin itch, he'd scrubbed clean, even his fingernails. But he still felt, odd.

"I wonder what she want's with me..." He thought. trying to push back his thoughts of 'King' Altimish, and his impending doom...

 

[Perplexia]

Even the nicest room at the Inn wasn't quite what she was used to. But for this mission it would simply have to do. Her first impression of Will was that he wasn't anything special. It only ignited her curiosity more as to why the King would be so determined on having him assassinated.

From the information that was gathered, and what the blacksmith told her Will was for all purposes a loner and a good guy. But there was also a story there. Where had he been before the blacksmith, and why the desire to blend into the the dirt?

Regardless, she needed to grab a bite to eat before she spent such close and long proximity to the human. With care she waited till the inn quieted before hopping from the top floor window to the ally below. Coming across a wino who was having an argument with the wall, she made a quick meal of him until he passed out with bottle in hand.

In a larger city perhaps she may have drained him completely. But there was no reason to have any undo attention thrust in her direction. Returning back to her room, she prepared it to be light tight, and settled for her slumber.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had just risen, cleaned, and dressed when the knock came at her door informing her the young will was waiting. Slowly the vision in black came down the staircase catching watching his movements.

"Wonderful, i'm glad you accepted, I would like you to escort me to dinner and the theater. Please commission a carriage and we'll be on our way to the next town."

 

[CoSurvivor]

Will thought he heard her correct, commission a carriage to the next town? Who did she think he was? Will was in no position to commission anything, He'd never been to a theater, or dinner, Well, at least not in the way she was talking. He could remember last year during the winter solstice when the festival began, he'd been interested enough in all its activities to spy on it from the open doors of the horse stable. There'd been some outdoor festival with a stage and some actors putting on a play but no theater. He had no idea if the village even had one. Will took a step back from where he'd stood when she came down the stairs. No amount of money could make him go anywhere. Will tried to be polite with his objection, speaking kindly to her.

"Mrs... you... have me mistaken for a page, I'm no such thing, just a stable boy and a part time blacksmith. I don't know where we could commission such a thing at this hour, and... when Mr Whitestone mentioned I should accompany you for the evening, he said nothing about leaving the Village. The nearest town is at least a days ride west. So I must ask, what do you want with me?"

Will was finding himself to be talking braver than he thought possible. Will didn't like this. he didn't like this at all, something in his gut was telling him to run and run fast He wanted to listen to that voice and the more he thought about the implications of what she was asking, to leave the only place he could trust and feel safe with her a woman he didn't know. What's more, to travel with her to another town? at least a day's ride away? No... this.. this wasn't right.

 

[Perplexia]

"you mistake me young sir" she said feigning offense. "I do not mistake you as a page, but simply as a gentleman companion that I have sought while i remain here. If the thought of escorting me offends you so, please waste not any more of my time." with that she managed a gasp and allowed some tears to trickle down her cheek.

"Forgive me, this is not your problem. You truly wish not to be here."

 

[CoSurvivor]

Will sighed... he hated the idea of making this beautiful woman cry... No it wasn't his place, no, he DIDN'T want to be there, but the idea of making her cry was not something he could handle. It would draw too much attention, and that's what he didn't need.

One of Margaret's daughter's had been standing behind the bar as Will and this woman had their exchange. Will could see she was about to tear into him, yell at him for making a woman cry, when Will slightly panicked and closed the gap between them.

"Mrs.. Mrs... I apologize... I do know of a place we could go, for dinner, and a carriage, I'll... I'll look into it. I'm.. I'm afraid there is no theater in the village, just a street stage where outdoor plays are performed. We.. we could go there... if you like."

Will tried to think of anything that might convince her to stay in the Village.

 

[Perplexia]

One thing that hasn't changed over the many centuries she had lived was that crying seemed to always stop a man in his tracks. It really was one of the greatest manipulations that human woman had ever come up with. Of course there was a small failure rate. But it was more then acceptable. On someone as pure as Will however it was truly a fool proof way to get her way.

The fear that rolled off him was so enticing she actually had to fight to keep herself from smiling wickedly. Luckily she gained control before the smile crept up her mouth and gave a bit of a sniffle and a nod.

"If you're sure." she managed to whimper out.

 

[CoSurvivor]

That whimper... it would be the end of him. What was it about her? What did she want from him?? He wanted to ask, wanted to demand but couldn't find the words. It made him uncomfortable yet also equally by his own personal code of honor, eager to help her. So how was he going to do that?

Will, had seen many a man from the window of his home, the high perch of the stables where he could look down and see many of them reach out to their betrothed on the streets of the village. He'd watch them try to calm their wives, mistresses and loved ones with the reassurance of a subtle touch of the hand, a hug or a slight arm around the shoulder. Sometimes he even tried to read their lips, get an idea of what had been said. He'd also seen a few times when the women these men tried to swoon put on more of a show than he'd thought possible. These men would leave the brothel whispering sweetness as they'd exit the door, and Will could see the women these men tried to swoon, work on the next catch. Maybe that's why Will was generally aprehensive of trusting anyone, he never knew if what they said would be honest. While he had no reason 'not' to trust anyone, his own situation made his level of suspicion, incredibly high, at an almost uncomfortable level, and it was the basis of his interaction with every person he met. Save for Mr. Whitestone. He'd have to drop his suspious nature a bit if he was to try and keep her happy.. but he'd still try and stay here in the village, where he stupidly felt safe.

"I'm sure the food is amazing, well everyone says so, the decor may not be exactly of the highest quality, white linen cloth and polished silver utensils. but if you are in for a good meal, then I know where to take you. The open air concert hall may have some minstrils playing this time of night. least... I can always hear them from the high windows of the stables at this time of night."

What say I take you past the open concert and then to dinner. If you still feel the need for a carrage afterwards, I'll have the staff here look into one."

 

[Perplexia]

"Well I suppose that will have to do" she managed say meekly. The boy seemingly was resistant to leaving town. What was the story behind it? On top of fear there was something else about him that was different. It was almost as if there was a twinge of magic in his aura.

V had come across a few that possessed such gifts in their life. But they had been fully developed. This one was just a baby. He didn't seem to have honed his craft in the least. She had never seen a Vampire with those type of skills. Perhaps he would loose it if she turned him. But what if he kept it? Oh wouldn't that be a powerful tool.

As for dinner, she had no need for human slop. But could manage to eat a meal if need be for appearance sake. She finished descending the oak staircase and took his arm. "Please lead the way sir" she said softly keeping her weak demure forefront.

As they walked she feigned looking around the dismal poor town. "have you always lived here?" she questioned. Keeping up the front of polite chatter. Also she wanted him to tell her everything. Though he was quite reserved this might take a little longer then two days to gain his trust enough for him to confide in her.

The boy truly seemed out of his comfort zone, and didn't seem to really want to be here at all. She would definitely need to play this one carefully. She still remembered what it was like to be human. To be a woman and looked down upon, to be made to feel insignificant, and even a little intimidated. She recognized that much of her human self in him. Men rarely exhibited such tales. No there was a story here, and her young companion would need to feel safe before he would tell her the true tale.

 

[CoSurvivor]

Will offered his hand to her and led the way out of the Broken Horn down about a block before he had the courage to answer her question.

"I've been here for only about 5 years, before that I grew up far from here, I don't really remember where that is, as I was too young to remember. My parents sold me, gave me to their landowner in payment for staying the land they lived on, He, in turn, Mr. Brackston sold me to a caravan, and when that caravan was attacked in the middle of the night by a group of marauders, I fled, I ran till my shoes fell apart and I couldn't run anymore. That's when I ended up waking in Mr. Whitestone's stable. Which is how I come to be in your company now."

The story he told her was the largest pile of horse shit he'd ever spun to anyone. But he'd practiced it so many times in his life over the last 5 years that there were times he himself believed in it so much it made it easier to believe it than the reality of where he really came from. It was a good enough yarn if she asked more questions he'd made up enough bullshit details in his head to drone on for hours. The only problem was, if she was anything more than what she appeared to be, she'd see right through it. He'd heard of marauders to the east attacking caravans for food and money, which is why he added it to his tall tale, He also added the story of the landowner, as he remembered hearing about Tom Cotton from back home getting sold to Lord Altimish and never being seen again. The thought of what happened to that boy gave him chills just to remember it.

Turning the corner toward the stage there was a merry band of minstrels playing for a good crowd, there was a full dance going on, and for a moment Will thought if he was anyone else he'd have asked the lady to dance. That is.. if he knew how. He'd watched enough from the stables to see the paces memorized the steps and thought he could replicate it, but surely he'd end up on his ass if he tried. Instead of offering to dance, he pointed at a restaurant with some open seating, a view of the music and the dancing. He commented to her getting closer and speaking only loud enough for her to hear.

" 'The Tipped Glass' over there is of good reputation. Sabastian is a wonderful cook and knows Mr. Whitestone well, he'll take good care of you surely for dinner." Guiding her further through the edge of the crowd, he was about to take another step to the front door and try to introduce her, but he had no idea of her name. With a polite smile, Will asked,

"Mrs, in all this commotion, I never did truly get your name? You know mine from Mr. Whitestone, but I've never had the pleasure of knowing how you prefer to be addressed?"

 

[Perplexia]

"I've been here for only about 5 years, before that I grew up far from here, I don't really remember where that is, as I was too young to remember. My parents sold me, gave me to their landowner in payment for staying the land they lived on, He, in turn, Mr. Brackston sold me to a caravan, and when that caravan was attacked in the middle of the night by a group of marauders, I fled, I ran till my shoes fell apart and I couldn't run anymore. That's when I ended up waking in Mr. Whitestone's stable. Which is how I come to be in your company now."

V could smell a lie ten feet away and this boy was telling her one. Perhaps she could loosen his tongue with some ale. If only there was a way to get to his blood she'd have the mystery solved and could make a decision of what to do then. He was well guarded and always on edge it seemed. It should have dissuaded her and only hurried her resolved to end him as she was paid so well, too well, to do. Instead it only made her more curious. What was the King hiding?, and what did it have to do with this boy.

Without missing a beat she responded. "Oh my that is an awful tale. You've been so lucky to come upon the doorstep of Mr. Whitestone. I can tell he has great affection for you of which I'm sure you've earned in spades." She looked out the window as the carriage turned the corner and continued.

"My late husband was just that kind of man. Sweet to his soul, would offer a stranger the shirt off his back, and believed that it was only through helping the less fortunate one had true purpose in this life. We live quite a ways away from here. I'm simply here settling some of his affairs."

Watching the people dance around amused her. It was like a human watching their steak twirl on a plate. If her 200+ years had taught her anything it was how to control herself from showing her cards to early. Discretion is how a vampire survives as long as she did.

She nodded as he pointed her to the eatery and let him guide her through the walking meat sacks with care.

"Mrs, in all this commotion, I never did truly get your name? You know mine from Mr. Whitestone, but I've never had the pleasure of knowing how you prefer to be addressed?"

"Oh my dear boy, I'm embarrassed for my lack of decorum, you may introduce me as Countess De'Winters. But as i feel we are to be friends these next couple or few days. Please call me V, or if that's to personal milady will do. Please order whatever you like, and do me the honor of sharing some wine with me. I simply hate to drink alone."

 

[CoSurvivor]

Will nodded. "Thank you, M'lady, er Countess..." Will stammered his voice caught as he heard her name. She could have said she was the Queen of Spain and he would've believed it her mannerisms and appearance gave her the aura of the upper class surely. But she was kind enough to be humble, and that made him feel just a hair more relaxed. Not relaxed enough to call her V, as she'd requested but enough to not feel quite so out of place.

Will held the door to the restaurant open for her and asks the hostess at the front for a table for two. "Would you prefer a view of the music M'lady?" Will asked, and with the countess's permission, the young hostess took them to the second floor. The table they sat at was next to open windows with a grand view of the central common grounds, the music echoing off the buildings filling the air with melodious music, something in his bones told Will he should relax, enjoy when would be the next time he'd be able to eat so well?

When they were seated, and a bottle of wine delivered to their table, Will looked at the half-filled glass of the deep violet-colored liquid. He'd never tasted wine before, and the fear of disappointing her at the moment outweighed his own overwhelming fear that something was not right here. Nobody picks a stable boy, cleans him up and wines him, and dines him without some sort of...purpose. But she was a woman, beautiful, and she did not seem to be of any threatening nature. But, his fear that instinct that had kept him hidden for so long told him to ask questions, find out more about her.

"M'lady you said you lived quite a distance and you were settling your husband's affairs? What did he do that brings you all the way here?"

 

[CoSurvivor]

accidental Dup.

 

[Perplexia]

"M'lady you said you lived quite a distance and you were settling your husband's affairs? What did he do that brings you all the way here?"

V took a sip of her wine smiled and placed the glass back down on the table. "My husband had his hands in all types of business affairs. He owned many business, he offered loans, he bred horses, and he donated to worthy causes like building school houses for small villages and finding qualified teachers to run them." she looked sad for a moment as if she was remembering him.

"I've elected to continue his business on my own, and continue with his charity work. I saw the way you were with Antony, he likes you, and he rarely likes anyone." That part was actually true. Antony was a purebred Thoroughbred. He was a descendant of one of the first horses she had when she was human. She continued to breed his lineage through out the years as if it was a way to hang on to a part of her humanity.

"I'm not one to beat around the bush, I know that we just met. But I trust my horses judge of character. I do not require an answer now, but would you be interested in running my stables and shoeing the horses? I would pay you well, and you'd have your own pad over the stables.Again, i do not require an answer now, but please give it some thought."

The waitress came back and she ordered a rare steak with a baked potato. She poured them both some more wine and encourage him to order whatever he wished and drink more wine.

 

[CoSurvivor]

"I...I" Will didn't know what to say, this woman knew him for less than a day and was offering him a job? to run a stable? There was no way, the thought of it, of him running anything was beyond his own comprehension. Will thought of leaving the village, sooner than he'd planned now, to take off as a page or something anything, to get as far away from here as he possibly could. He couldn't take her up on her offer, no matter how lucrative, or how incredible it sounded.

"I, you honor me m'lady... but I'd only fail you, as I've failed so many others. And for me with as little honor that I have left, I wouldn't want to be the one to let you down. I must decline, no sense in giving you the impression that such a responsibility could ever be mine."

Sadly Will lowered his head and tried not to make eye contact with her, but he kept being drawn back to her eyes. strange as it was. When she ordered, he did as well, trying to order he was mesmerized, but managed to order something he knew he could eat. a small steak, with some pink and a baked potato as well. When the food arrived the aroma filled his nostrils, making his mouth water in anticipation of having a delicacy he'd longed for but never had. Taking the knife and fork in each hand he tried to cut into it to take a bite remembering his table manners from long ago. Taking his first bite he savored it and started to cut another until he heard a loud crash, two people down below had started to fight and crashed into a street vendor, sending number pottery everywhere. The noise startled him, made his knife slip, and before he could catch it he'd poked his left thumb with the tip. a few drops of blood splattering across his plate.

"Damn it!"

Will yelped dropping his utensils and sucking his thumb. Looking at the wound he cursed himself. "Only a small prick thankfully, the knives are sharp enough to take off a finger if you're not careful."

Looking at his thumb it started to heal almost instantly, not thinking much of it Will looked at his Mistress and apologized. "My apologies..I'm.. easily startled.."

 

[Perplexia]

She was about to respond to his comment when a large noise startled him and he cut his thumb. With reflexes faster then the eye could see or mind could recognized she reached over got a dab of his blood on her finger and placed it in her mouth.

While he talked of sharp knifes she closed her eyes letting the drop of blood tell her all that he would not from his memories. When she opened them he was wiping the blood away and his wound was already healing. Interesting. The boy had latent powers that he didn't' know of. She had tasted something different about his blood. This must be why the King wanted him dead. That and he was witness to the King being a vampire. But so much trouble for a weak boy.

"Another reason you should consider my offer, it is very serene at my estate." She took a bite of her steak. Over the years she managed to acclimate to human behaviors. Although it was only blood she needed to survive, she could eat human food, but it did nothing for her.

"I think you underestimate your abilities. You have a way with animals. You would have assistants if you wanted them, and left to your own devices most of the time. I'll ask you again to think about it, it could be an escape from all walks of people, and a place to be at ease."

She chose her words carefully as she picked certain fears from his memories.

 

[CoSurvivor]

"Your offer is kind... but more than I could dream of handling. My father always did say I had a way with animals, it's always been easy to communicate with them I think, they don't lie as we do, they don't pretend to be something they aren't and they are always very straight forward with what they expect from you. So in that respect, I've always found it easier to communicate with them than other people. But I wouldn't want to let you down. And I know I would."

Will remained silent for a while, his thoughts to himself, on the urgency of what must be done, and how he'd have to explain to Mr. Whitestone in the morning that he'd be leaving by the end of the week.

But what Will didn't know... was that with the slight cut of his finger, and it's near-instant healing, he'd unleashed a wave of memories in but just a droplet of blood. and when his mistress tasted it, she could quickly see that William was far more than he understood himself to be.

William was of a royal bloodline stretching back to the steps of the world. More importantly, William was more than human, but more than a vampire, his blood carried with it the shattered memories of his ancestors, and the events which lead to their deaths, and of the usurper Altimesh, who has no right to the throne, only the ambition, and the moral flexibility which allowed him to get away with what he did. The flood of memories could have been too much for anyone to piece through, only that now it made more sense as to why Altimesh wanted the boy dead. He was the only living, or dead remnant of the royal bloodline, a bloodline unlike any other. So long as the boy was alive he remained a threat, as he was the only remaining member of the royal family.

William was the last heir to the bloody throne. a chair that only a few could sit upon and not be warped by its inherent power.

The only problem was, William's mind was a shattered pane of glass as if long ago someone had taken a mirror shattered it and scooped up the pieces tossing it away. The larger pieces holding secrets, memories of a lineage that went back, well back to the beginning. Was he worth saving< or should his mistress decide to destroy him would be a question only she knew the answer to. Oblivious of his past, William remained in the dark. with no way to find the door, to his past, or a way to put his fractured mind back together.

---

Lost in thought Will watched the people below dance to the music from the stage, which made him ask, "Are you much of a fan of this kind of music where you are from?"


"

 

[Perplexia]

Sifting through all the memories and there it was. Things Will didn't even know about himself. The King had made an error that night, had he killed the boy he would be safe in his crown. But if the truth be let free he would lose everything. For the boy was the King by blood, and that even in a vampires world was a much stronger decree.

"Mmm" she said answering his question breaking her from her own thoughts. "I enjoy all kinds of music." She took a sip of her wine and stared in the direction of the musicians and dancers. "My horse likes you, and as you said they don't lie. So if he believes in you, I do as well. But no rush, think on it."

Will didn't know with that one drop of blood she'd stolen he'd gained one of the best assassins to protect him. With her came her fortune, and her men. He wasn't in a place to accept the truth about himself. His instincts were to stay hidden, and that she would ensure he did for however long it took for him to realize who he was, and what he was meant to do.

 

[CoSurvivor]

Will simply nodded.

"I will, I'll think on it." He turned to the music and allowed it to fill the void between her and him. She was beautiful, different than any woman he'd ever met, but certainly very attractive.

As they ate, Will fell into silence, allowing the noise of others grow around them, and he felt even more awkward as he stole looks at her. It was immature surely, a sign of his little knowledge about women, and any knowledge he did have came from his barn door window.

"So what other affairs do you need to attend to here in town? Anything specific?'

The silence was killing him...