Lucius sighed. “There is.”
Morrigan whipped around to face him, her jaw tight. “Do not ask Daghda to perform magic,” she warned. “You know that both of our powers have left us.”
David flinched at her words. The Morrigan had her condition to blame for the disappearance of her shapeshifting abilities, but David’s powers had also faded over time, around the same time that his insidious new conscience took hold. Only Lucius had maintained his manipulation of fire, yet he seldom, if ever, found himself in need of its power.
“Neither of you can help,” Lucius agreed as he began to pace, his robes sopping up the contents of the floor. He looked strange without his signature goblet, choosing to clasp his hands behind his waist in its absence. “Long ago, when the spellcaster brought me to life, I made a pact with her that she and her offspring would have unlimited power. She lived in Transylvania, centuries before its name. It might be possible that her lineage survives. If they are as strong as their matriarch once was, they might be the solution to our problem.”
Morrigan looked hopeful, the expression softening the severity of her features. “May we try?”
The brief glimpse of her vulnerability brought Lucius to her side. “Of course, we will,” he assured her, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace.
She allowed him to hold her, flinching only slightly when he rested his cheek against her hair. He continued to glower across the room at David. “David will join us for one last supper before he rides out to Transylvania,” he asserted as he kept him trapped in his glare. “Perhaps he will be able to find her daughters and restore you back to health. We know how much he enjoys his nights away from our home, the search should prove satisfying for him.”
David frowned, but couldn’t disagree. The bulk of his evenings were spent finding any excuse to escape from the castle, whether it was hunting in the nearby woods for game or traveling abroad. He didn’t need much persuasion to leave, but was moved by the prospect of restoring the Morrigan to her former glory. Even if that meant the resurgence of the Lucius and Morgana battle antics.
Both of them awaited his response, two otherworldly beings confined by mortal bodies, intertwined in a mess of ebony hair and waxen skin, doused in shades of crimson. A vision of the Lovers he once painted surfaced from memory, the two creatures before him a macabre inversion of the pure connection he’d tried to capture so long ago. Yet, for all their faults, and his growing animosity towards their actions, he still loved them. They were his family, his only companions for centuries.
“Yes,” he sighed in defeat. “I will dine with you, then I will depart this evening.”
“Wonderful,” Lucius said. He released Morrigan so he could face her. “You can dress for dinner, and I will get someone to clean up this mess.” He grimaced as he finally realized the extent of the room’s desecration, gingerly lifting his sullied robes. He glanced back up at her. “Are you able to dress yourself for tonight, my dear, or shall I find you another lady in waiting?”
“I think I can manage on my own,” she replied.
CHAPTER 6
THE OTHERS
The great hall was brimming with nemorti when David entered, his stomach churning with apprehension. He’d dressed hurriedly, securing his olive doublet with a belt that matched his riding boots, which he had donned in preparation for his travels. He shifted uncomfortably in his stockings, which he loathed wearing, never acclimating to the stifling clothing of modern custom. They never seemed to make them roomy enough for his muscular legs.
David could already hear the frantic thoughts of the distressed prisoners below, reminding him that being in a room filled full of dying humans was going to be unbearable. He promptly gathered what Lucius’s plans for the evening entailed, large wooden spikes that could hold a man’s weight lined the two main walls, empty iron vats waiting at each base. He wondered how long he would be able to withstand witnessing their slow, agonizing deaths, as hundreds of mindless nemorti drank to their misfortune.
The sight of the Morrigan calmed him, grateful to see she had yet to slip back into her Delicia aspect. An amused smirk slid across his face as he realized she’d barely wiped the smeared blood off her face, the warrior goddess thoroughly enjoying her war paint, regardless of dining formalities. She also left her hair flowing free without a hat to tame it, her skirts and sleeves poorly matched, and the deep V-neck of her gown revealing the complete lack of underdress. Her blood-streaked breasts threatened to fall from the plunging neckline as she leaned forward to greet him.
His presence drew several curious stares from the court as he moved towards the high table, assuming the place normally left empty in his absence. Morrigan’s azure eyes shimmered as he approached, her cheeks flushed with a liveliness he hadn’t seen in her for months. “I’m so glad you have decided to join us, Daghda,” she purred.
David squeezed her shoulder reassuringly as he slipped past her, taking his place to the right of Lucius’s throne.
From his seated position, he was able to observe Lucius’s court of animated death conversing amongst each other as they gazed approvingly at the pikes erected around them, eager for the festivities to begin. The women were pallid and rail thin, swallowed by wool gowns with intricate patterns of reds, greens, gold, and black. Their hats dwarfed them, the elongated cone shapes creating a rippling sea of color as their heads bobbed and weaved with animation. Men also wore the traditional colors, draped in layers of robes to hide their malnourishment, vests of fur plumping out their narrow chests. The room was aglow with torches set in sconces around the cavernous hall, causing the smooth, deeply stained wooden beams set in the ceiling above to shine. An ample fire roared in the vast fireplace at the southern end, the aroma of blistering oak flavoring the stale air.
David longed for the meal to be over, eager to be in the dense woods that surrounded the castle, even though he knew his leave was less about pleasure than it was purpose. His eyes flitted impatiently at the doorway, just as Lucius’s main servants waltzed through it to announce his presence.
The commotion dulled to a low hum as his subjects took their respective places in front of their chairs. Lucius appeared from behind the two revenants, vainglory incarnate, dripping in gold effects as his thick mane of polished black hair flowed regally behind him. His court hailed him as he entered, murmuring venerations as he proudly peacocked through them to his throne. He mirrored the portrait above him in grandiloquence, his fur lined robes matching the conspicuous red and amber hues of his velvet turban. His thin fingers were dominated by gold rings bearing precious stones, an extravagant garnet situated at his throat. He stood proudly, stretching his arms up and outwards towards the mass of denizens below.
“People of Wallachia!” he addressed them in their language, his voice ringing through the capacious chamber. “We come together tonight in celebration of the Dragon’s hold on the Wallachia throne!”
The crowd burst into cheers.
“As your deeply benevolent ruler, I have decided to throw a feast to surpass all who have come before it!”
Acclamation reverberated throughout the hall once more.
Lucius beamed, relishing in the open adulation before raising a slender hand to silence them. “But first, I offer my court a treat unlike any other. Before we dine, we shall enjoy a rare entertainment.” He looked down at David, who was inspecting him with an air of confusion. “Do you remember the balatrones of Rome, brother?”
David blanched at the archaic term for court jester. He knew that only tragedy would befall the unfortunate soul Lucius had targeted, quite the opposite of any merriment the title usually invoked. His trepidations were confirmed as the massive hall doors were thrown open once more, revealing a man weighed down by heavy chains. Two nemorti soldiers dragged him onward, their stocky arms and sturdy bodies revealing their status as Hunters. David’s mouth went dry, the room taking on a nauseating sway.
Although he had spent much time in Lucius’s damp and perilous dungeon, the man’s face was handsomely chiseled and youthful, even with the strange attribute of a full head and beard of silvered hair. He was both tall and broad, requiring the exerted strength of both his captors to pull him forward, even though he was closely chained and starved. He looked up with wild, dark blue eyes that pierced David’s own with their ferocity. It occurred to David that as close as he was to the man, he could not hear his thoughts, something he hadn’t encountered since his initial telepathic revelation.
“He has been raving in his cell for weeks, telling fantastical stories of giant wolves and mythical beasts,” Lucius elucidated to the nemorti who had already begun to buzz with excited anticipation. “I thought we could use a little laughter to begin our meal.”
The court offered sounds of approval.
The two soldiers threw the heavily bewhiskered man at the foot of the high table before Lucius, David now able to see the brightly colored fabrics they’d draped on him in mockery. He tried to empty his mind, but still he was unable to hear the prisoner’s thoughts.
“You do not hear me,” the captive man snarled at Lucius. “I am not human. If you do not allow me to find shelter before the moon peaks, I will tear this court apart limb from limb.”
Lucius roared laughter that dripped with derision, his assemblage following suit. “Oh sir, you do not have the slightest idea what sort of court this is,” he chortled. “You should have thought better than to try to break into our fortress.”
Suddenly, Morrigan bolted upright from her chair. “Lucius,” she forewarned in a low voice.
“Tell us more about what you think will happen at this court,” he continued to taunt the man crouched before him, seemingly unaware of her speaking. “Tell us more about how we will meet our doom at your hands.”
“Lucius,” she repeated, louder.
The court fell silent, all eyes upon her. David noticed her face was stricken with fear, causing him to rise up from his chair in concern.
“That man is not human,” she cautioned, her expression frozen in bewilderment as she stared.
