The Vault
Mr Martini and Mikondor, together with Claude Cancaster and some nameless fourth young man are residing in a low-ceilinged cavern.
Each of the last four nights, one of them caught the attention of a pale and beautiful young lady who called herself Murielle. This woman then led the young man back to an abandoned goldsmith shop, where she let him tumble her to bed. Then he came to notice how unusually cool her skin was, only to be overpowered and bitten in the throat. Both man and lamia relished the ecstasy of feeding, and while Murielle drank the first blood, other lamias, and their servants - stinking corpse-eaters called ghouls - would move into the room. When the young man was released from Murielle’s embrace, others were ready to take him down into the cellar and past a secret entrance in one of the walls, into their dungeon. And the next night, another young man would follow.
The cavern where they are kept is domed, and seems to be walled with seamless rock; the walls and ceiling are a single dome. At each end of the room is a small, sturdy door. The room is quite dark, a bit damp, and the air down here is rather fetid (due to poor ventilation). The floor is piled with hay, which provide reasonably comfortable bedding, and the four are given plentiful food by their keepers, including generous helpings of roast meat. The four are kept naked, but the chill does not get too bothersome.
The prisoners tend to speak very little to one another; instead, they sit or lie passively, waiting for the hungry kisses of their lamia masters. Each visit by a lamia is like ascension to heaven - an ecstatic experience. The joy then gradually fades away, going from blazing euphoria through pleasure to contentment, and then shading into passivity and eventually listlessness. The prisoners’ worries are not "how to escape?" but "when do I get another kiss?" Little concern is aroused, even when one of the other prisoners is drained totally by the three male lamiae, and removed from the room by the door leading away from the cellar.
The lamias come into this room a few times per day, sometimes alone, sometimes together, their ravenous attentions are pretty evenly divided on the prisoners. The three male lamiae, Darmant (the leader), Fandian and Agopin all restrict themselves to a few contemptuous words and a brief feeding off the wrist or the neck of their cattle. The attention of the female lamias, is much more laviscious. They feed on either the carotid (neck or femoral (thigh) artery, and usually spice up their feeding ceremonies with intercourse or cunnilingus. Though lamias are frequently believed to be dead, Mateo and Mikondor sense first-hand that they are clearly possessed the desires of the flesh, and while their skin may be cool, their passion is white-hot and untiring.
Despite this treatment, Mikondor manages to collect his thoughts sufficiently to utter a rather long and pretty much coherent speech before one of Murielle’s feedings. He tries to speak as softly and discreetly as possible. Still, Mateo – his ears made keen by years of eavesdropping for political purposes, and mind as clear of the kissing fog as it ever gets these days, manages to hear what he is saying:
"Excuse me, but I wondered if I might speak a little to you before you return me to the land of bliss..." Muriel hesitates and hear him out; "I have said earlier that you are very beautiful, I still stand by my word. I do not mind what you are doing. You do not do anything different from what everybody does – you exploit what advantages you have for your own gain". Wryly, he adds "So do I – as much and as often as I can... I really do not mind being here. I am happy here. But there is one small problem. Did you notice my best friend Maurice, who is also an acquaintance of Mateo?" "Yesss, I did." responds Murielle in her Marilyn Monroe-like voice. "A boy of great innocence and of great power."
Mikondor continues: "And herein lies the entire problem. Maurice will find it strange that both Mateo and me disappear after having been seen with you. He will start looking for us, and I actually suspect that he may have attempted to achieve telepathic contact with me recently. This I declined. But sooner or later, he will find us, and cause a great disturbance to you, at the very least. He is not a national hero for nothing..." With growing worry, he continues "I actually care about what happens to you – you are beautiful, intelligent, and, on closer acquaintance, quite kind as well!", he as he finishes, his voice glows with admiration."
Mikondor is not at all certain that he would leave if he was allowed to, but still he keeps arguing: "For this reason, I wish to make a proposal: If you let me go, I will keep all that happened here a secret. I have not seen Mateo, or anybody else here, (smiling) and the reason for my prolonged absence will neither be hard to give nor to believe. You may wonder why you should trust me – much may be said of me, and my stories are not always –entirely- truthful, but I have never betrayed a promise to a friend, and I regard you as my friend, a person I am willing to do a lot to protect. (irritated) Unlike that haughty upstart Mateo, whom I have always disliked. (calming down) I can understand your doubts with regards to my proposal, but ask yourself what I can win by keeping these promises I have made, and what I stand to gain if I break them. If I break them, I will wind up in Mateo’s company again, and get myself a resourceful adversary. If I keep them, I can resume my old life, and so can you. We both stand to win all and lose nothing!" Quickly he adds: "Before you answer, I want you to know that if you decide to keep me here, I will be more than willing to persuade Maurice to leave if he comes, and if things escalate, I will do anything within my power – and that is quite a lot, believe you me – to keep anything from happening to you. Consider this carefully, for the sake of both our futures.
Murielle responds: "You are truly an eloquent man, as well as a handsome one. I appreciate your concern, and will not forget what you have said. However, there is much that you do not know; I am but a slave of Darmant, as you are of me, and I cannot imagine that he would be moved in any way by your words. He is a skilled sorceror and warrior, and our blood is strong within him. I strongly suspect that Maurice will prove no match for him, should he be able to find you. However, in the unlikely case that Maurice comes here, and Darmant is defeated, I will reconsider what you have said.
Some indeterminable time later, only three men remain alive in the vault – Mikondor, Mateo and Claude. They have been snoozing in the hay since the last feeding (both of and on them). Normally, the stone dome blocks out most sounds, but the three awaken from a muted crash above them. Soon after, there is a fumbling at the cellar door, and through it comes three individuals. Mikondor and Mateo, accustomed to listening in the dark, recognize them as one male and two females, lighter and more lithe of step. They can hear the creaking of the male’s boots and the swish of the females’ skirts. The male, his voice giving him away as Fandian, barks: "We are leaving. Get up!" Claude can be heard flopping pathetically, but seems to be too weak to get to his feet. The two others, Mateo and Mikondor, are weakened due to blood loss, and a slightly listless, as they have not been fed upon for some hours.
Flight
Each of the females move up to one man, Mateo are assisted in getting up by Sophia, while Mikondor is helped by the fair Murielle. After her cool, smooth hands grasp his and pull him up, she leans close to him, and whispers sensually into his right ear: "I underestimated your companions, my cherished one, Darmant is no more. Murielle leads Mikondor by the hand to the door at the other end of the room, there a rattling of keys and her deft hand unlocks the door. It squeaks open, and she pulls Mikondor along into a narrow, damp tunnel, so low that Mikondor must stoop to pass through it, and so narrow that his shoulders often scrape at the walls. Mateo is grabbed by the upper arms by Sophia. Holding him in front of her, she steers him along behind Mikondor. Behind them, they can hear words being exchanged between Fandian and Claude, and soon after, the hiss of sword being unsheathed and the wet sound of metal chopping into meat. Then the crunch of Fandian’s boots can be heard bringing up the rear.
This group of five stumbles through the tunnel for some time, gravel crunching under their boots. There are occasional steps up and down, sometimes several in a row, the knees of the two living men bruise against rocky outcroppings in the total darkness, though the lamiasses endeavour to lead them as safely as possible. From behind, Fandian barks: "Move faster" from time to time. Eventually the tunnel opens up into a larger corridor, this has an uneven floor of natural rock, and the sound of feet slapping against it echoes back at the group. Fandian moves up ahead. The corridor winds onwards, up and down. At one point, the group is growled at, immediately the growl is followed by a "Halt, who goes there?"
Fandian responds: "Master Fandian, his two lamiae Murielle and Sophia, and two kine. My former master Darmant and my fellow, Agopin, have been slain by sorcery-wielding living, and our haven has been put on fire. Our entrance tunnel must be sealed, otherwise they may find your caves." "It will be done" answers the other gutturally. The group moves along, and as Mikondor and Mateo pass the sentry, they smell his rotten odour. Soon they come to a staircase leading downwards, and they descend it, coming into a large cavern, judging from the echoes of dripping water. After a bit more walking, they ascend another staircase, follow twisting corridors for some more time, and eventually climb up a trapdoor. After the trapdoor, the floor is paved stone, and after two more turns, the five come to a door, which Fandian opens after getting the key-ring from Murielle.
The Crypt
Once inside, Sophia sparks alight some candles and puts them in alcoves along the left wall, so that the two mortals can see once more. They are in a rectangular room some seven meters long and three meters broad; there is an entrance to at one of the narrow ends of the room, close to one of the corners. From the door there is a meter-wide walkway from the door, along one wall, and to the opposite wall, to the right, the room is filled with five sarcophagi standing side by side, their lids pulled aside. In the feeble light of the candles, the mortals see that there is a mattress in every sarcophagus. At the door, there is a canvas sack, which was put there by Fandian as the group arrived.
Sophia returns to the door and she and Fandian leads Mateo to the inner end of the room, where they begin talking to him.
In the flickering candlelight, Mateo beholds Fandian and Sophia for the first time; previously, they have been defined in his mind only by noise and touch. Fandian has the physical appearance of a man in his late 20s. His hair is dark and kept in a ponytail; He is clean-shaven and has blocky features with a broken nose. His eyebrows grow together over the nose. Fandian’s features are very rough and somewhat crude looking, but not unattractive. He wears a fine shirt of white linen, with a ruffled collar, a laced opening at the chest and lacework at the chest, collar and cuffs. His breeches are royal blue in colour, and hang over down-turned riding boots. At his broad black leather belt hang a backsword and a main-gauche.
Sophia is a small, plain-featured woman, looking about 30 years old. She has brown hair piled up on her head in an elaborate hairdo. Her slender form is covered by a fine linen summer dress, covering her front all the way to the neck, but leaving he shoulders and most of her back bare.
Fandian leads Mateo in a grip like iron, while Sophia is quite light-handed. As they reach the end of the room, Fandian pushes Mateo in front of them, and turns him forcibly around, so that he faces the door again. "Now", Fandian begins, "tell me why I should bother to keep you alive instead of just drinking you dry." Mateo replies feebly "Urm. Hm. Aaah, you need living people to run errands and perform similar tasks. I can perform actions out in daylight…"
As Fandian questions Mateo, Murielle leans close to Mikondor, and she whispers to him. "Let us leave while Fandian is occupied, my love." She pulls him by his hand towards the door.
Mikondor responds to Murielle with soft measured movements. Deliberately avoiding any and all abrupt movements that could raise attention from the other three in the room. He walks as silently as he possibly can without resorting to telltale techniques. That way, if anyone looks in their direction, it will look as innocent as possible under the circumstances.
As they head for the door, Mikondor reassuringly tightens the hand holding Murielle's for a short moment. The cold skin of her hand no longer feels alien, but gives a strange, comforting feeling. Murielle's hand responds to the gesture by tightening her hand in return, and Mikondor quietly forms a short prayer in his mind. "Mercury grant us a swift and safe journey." The prayer is whispered in his mind, as if he is afraid to draw the gods’ attention back to himself again.
Mercury seems to smile upon his wayward priest, as both Mikondor and Murielle approach the almost but not quite shut door of the crypt, without making any noises louder than the swish of Murielle's silken dress. Their bodies cast flickering shadows on the ironbound wooden boards.
Behind them, Fandian speaks to Mateo, his tone of voice is rather aggressive: "I already have people to perform such functions as you describe; Unless you can come up with something better than that, living, I must say you are worthless except as a simple dinner." His right hand lashes out like the head of a viper, and grabs Mateo by the neck, Fandian’s strong fingers digging into Mateo’s flesh, gripping him with the immovability of a vise. Mateo opens his mouth in a groan of pain, while Fandian opens his with the "ah" of a gourmet looking at a dish, baring sharp teeth.
In desperation, Mateo grabs one of the candles, and quickly presses it at Fandian’s shirtsleeve, smothering the feeble flame. Fandian's motionless stance indicates that he is unimpressed with the manoeuvre, and he looks deeply into Mateo’s eyes in an attempt to discern what purpose might be served by this futile gesture.
Mikondor pulls the door open widely enough for him and Murielle to press themselves through the gap. As Mikondor slides through, he pulls in his stomach, making himself as thin as possible. At the same time he turns his head ever so slightly to get a last glance of the room he is leaving. He sees that Fandian is holding Mateo's neck with one hand, and then beholds Mateo’s feeble attempt at frightening Fandian. Not resting his eyes on any of the occupants, Mikondor turns his head back towards Murielle again. She, much more lithe - though less well trained, slips through the gap with the grace of a dancer, but as she and Mikondor steps away from the door, her hem catches at the corner of the door, and pulls it shut with a slight thud, leaving the two in utter darkness. Right after the door closes, Mikondor can weakly hear Sophia yelling on the other side of the door, though he cannot make out the words.
In the crypt, Sophia swivels around at the sound of the door closing, and sees that Mikondor and Murielle are no longer present. "Look, Fandian! The bitch and her pet are running away!" Casting a glance over his shoulder, Fandian sees that Sophia is right, and with a roar of rage, he casts Mateo aside, flinging him against the crypt wall, where he sags down, trying to deal with the many painful sensations wracking his body. Fandian turns away from the fallen noble and unsheathes his sword as he runs towards the door.
Cursing under his breath, Mikondor quickly whisper into Murielle’s ear: "Do you want to tell them 'good-bye', or should we just run for it, my love?" As he mutters these soft words his eyes strains against the darkness, trying to make out a lock on the door, or at least something to block it with, or perhaps something to use as a weapon. From the other side of the door, Mikondor can hear a roar of rage. He cannot see anything except the faintly illuminated outline of the door he and his female friend just passed through. At the bottom of the outline, he sees a glistening of red silk; the skirt of Murielle stretched tautly. But other senses provide him with a bit more information. The air is slightly humid, still and rather fetid, smelling of mould and dirt, its odour tickles the nose. But compared to the atmosphere of the filthy vault which has been his home for some time, it is fresh as a sea breeze. He can feel cold, squarely cut rock tiles under his feet, one shift slightly under his foot as he moves. On the other side of the door, the roar increases in force, and is accompanied by the beat of rapidly approaching feet. Mikondor feels the intoxicating aroma of Murielle's exhalation on his face as she whispers "Let us run!" pulling at his hand. As Murielle speaks, the door is pulled inwards, ripping a piece of Murielle's dress away. Fandian stands on the other side, brandishing a backsword, which glints in the candlelight streaming out behind him. He hesitates as he takes in the fact that the two are still right on the other side of the door.
Mikondor, realizing he will never be able to run faster than Fandian if he does not get ahead start, decides to do a little performance to throw him off guard, taking advantage of the fact that Fandian was surprised to find them right on the other side of the door.
Mateo slides down the wall, landing in a seated position at about the same time as Fandian pulls the door open. Both he and Sophia shares Fandian’s surprise at finding Mikondor and Murielle right outside the door. The situation is made no less confusing by the fact that Mikondor turns his head towards Fandian and says with a rather annoyed voice: "Do you mind!?", his face set in a slightly dull expression.
As Mikondor turns, he pulls Murielle closer, and raises his free hand to her shoulder, stroking it sensually. He then releases her hand, hooks his fingers inside her shoulder straps, and pulls down the body of Murielle’s dress in one sensual movement, laying bare the white, silky skin of her shoulders. Murielle gives a startled yelp at this sudden disrobing.
After Mikondor completes the manoeuvre, a sudden streak of fear covers his face and he takes a small step away from Fandian and kneels.
"I am sorry Fandian. My love was going to give me one of her special treatments, and we wanted the slight privacy offered by this door. Please! Do not be mad at her!" Mikondor pleads in a broken, cowed voice, as if his fear is making it hard for him to talk. In reality, the kneeling brought his hands within reach of the wobbly stone tile, while his submissive posture hides his hands and the tile from Fandian’s view. As he speaks he desperately tries to dislodge the floor tile.
Mateo, being the lecher that he is, is somewhat distracted from this speech by a short glimpse of Murielle, the top of her dress pulled down to expose her shapely shoulders.
As Mikondor speaks, Fandian tears his gaze away from Murielle and looks contemptuously down at Mikondor, saying "I am slightly upset with Murielle for squandering her charms on a blood-bull already in our firm possession. Rest assured that within our current refuge, Murielle’s special ‘treatments’ will be reserved for me, and me alone. You, you living, anemic piece of livestock, should be grateful for being fed upon every once in a while!" As the gloating lamia speaks, Mikondor pries frantically at the tile with his nails and fingertips. He can feel his overgrown nails breaking and the skin of his fingers are cut with numerous shallow gashes. However, he eventually manages to pry away a thumb-sized shard at one corner of the wobbly, broken tile, and sticking his fingertips into the cavity, he gains a hold sufficient to dislodge it. As he does so, Fandian shift his gaze away from Mikondor’s pleading face and towards his hands. "Say, cattle, what are you fingering down there?"
While Fandian spoke to Mikondor, Mateo struggled to his feet, using the wall against his back as support.
"I-it is, m-my lu-lucky charm!" Mikondor responds, and, at the end of the sentence, he desperately swings the tile with both hands, aiming at Fandian’s (once) precious equipment. The lamia is caught off-guard by the unconventional attack and a corner of the tile strikes home at his crotch. Fandian gives a slight groan, and Mikondor reverses the motion; Aided by the pull of gravity he brings the tile down on the lamia’s left foot. Both blows are of sufficient force to break any bone in an ordinary man’s body, but Fandian only crouches slightly, stunned by the attack at his genitals. The next moment, Mikondor leaps upwards and backwards, propelling himself away from Fandian and into the gloomy corridor. He lands gracefully in a defensive crouch, his gaze fixed at his vampiric opponent.
As Mikondor bounces backwards, Murielle casts herself forward, teeth bared in a vicious snarl. As the crouching Fandian tries to recover from the violence wrought on his groin, Murielle grabs him by the shoulders, pressing her chest against his muscular body and bending her head close to his neck. Her sharp teeth cut deeply into his neck, and she drinks greedily. This is not the gentle Kiss given when feeding normally, but a bestial, gluttonous feasting – blood spills from the side of her lips, trickling down in a red stream as his body twitches helplessly. Mikondor watches dumbly as his ladylove takes over the entire fight.
Fandian stumbles a few step backwards into the crypt, and Murielle follows in a grim tango, holding Fandian’s taller body bent forward. When Fandian’s head catches up with what is happening to him, he is already too anaemic and weakened to resist the smaller lamia. The three spectators see Murielle’s complexion grow rosier, while Fandian’s grows white as snow. He loses consciousness and slips down on the floor; Murielle follows him down, clasping his body like a lover, and never easing her hold on his neck. Fandian’s skin grows pallid and yellows like old parchment, it wrinkles and tightens over atrophying muscles, and when Murielle finally rises again - blood on her lips and chin, and down the front of her dress, making it cling to the curve of her breasts and stomach - Fandian’s curled-up body is more reminiscent of a plague victim than of the muscular swashbuckler he was some heartbeats ago.
While Murielle is fully occupied with drinking the vital juices of Fandian, Sophia steps forward tentatively, but as she steps closer to the two prone lamiae, Mikondor comes into the room, tossing a heavy stone tile from hand to hand. Sophia takes one look at his challenging visage and stop short.
In better lighting, Mikondor’s challenging pose might have been given away by his eyes’ worried dance from Murielle, to Sophia, to the door, and back. He contemplates what to do now; Options like "run away while you can", and "she is on my side on this one" wages a constant battle in his mind, but the escape option was never a true option, even before the mental debate started. As he thinks, he nervously shifts his body weight from one foot to the other, feeling uneasy and out of place. He also thinks worriedly of the foul-smelling sentry.
Mateo is still leaning against the back wall of the crypt, clumsily feeling his ill-treated neck.
Mikondor, weakened and distracted, loses control of his brickbat and narrowly avoids having his right foot crushed by it as it falls to the floor. Sophia skitters at the sound of the crash, and then stands still, looking at the gorged Murielle, who is getting up.
Pulling away from her withered mate, Murielle gets up on her knees and absent-mindedly pulls up her dress’s body, once more covering up her shoulders. Her skin has a ruddy glow in the candlelight, making her look far healthier than she ever did on La Hydre, but at the same time, the two living men are taken aback with her bloated features. Murielle looks about ten pounds heavier than usual. Her swollen breasts and stomach reminds one of a pregnant woman. Her red dress is torn open along the right leg, and its bodice is wrinkled and bloody, sticking to her torso. She loosens the lacing at her chest to accommodate her increased bulk, as she casts a hood-eyed glance at the tensing Sophia and asks: "Do you feel lucky, bitch?" Then she rolls back on her heels and gets to her feet.
Sophia apparently does not feel very lucky, as she hesitantly takes one step backwards.
Murielle turns her face towards Mikondor, her swollen cheeks dimple as she bares her blood-stained canines in a smile and says in a coy, giggling voice "Thanks, Mikondor, I couldn’t have done this without you." Presenting his arm to her, Mikondor replies "I'm glad that I was able to prove what I told you earlier." After licking blood of her right hand, Murielle accepts Mikondor’s offered arm and slips her cleansed hand over his left forearm.
Mikondor looks down into his lady’s eyes and says "Shall we leave this place now, or do you have unsettled business to attend first?" Casting a glance at Sophia, he flexes the arm he presented to Murielle earlier, making it clear that if she suddenly feels lucky, she will have to deal with him too. "I do believe that I have some matters to attend to here." answers Murielle, taking one step forwards and gently pulling Mikondor along.
While Murielle and Mikondor have their little chat, Mateo stares dumbly at Fandian’s corpse, his already pale face grows even more pallid. As he regains a bit of his self-control, Mateo realizes that Murielle's anger is somewhat directed against Sophia and steps away from her, not willing to risk Murielle's wrath (having lost against her before). This manoeuvre brings him into the corner of the room. His eyes flicker nervously from Murielle to Sophia, and then back again. He stutters: "Please, no m-more bl-bloodshed. We all seem to be on the same level, -right-?" (The word "RIGHT " is uttered with desperate anticipation, like a little boy pleading to a gang of bullies.)
Faced with Murielle and Mikondor, Sophia flinches and says: "No more bloodshed, please. I was hoping that you might put an end to Fandian’s illusions of grandeur, dear" she says, looking at Murielle, at the same time taking a couple of steps deeper into the crypt, bringing her closer to Mateo. "You will make a great and beautiful Mistress, Murielle. I was secretly cheering you on the entire time. What now, Mistress?" she asks, submissively.
"The tithe, Sophia... You owe your mistress the tithe." answers Murielle a malicious grin, as she and her mortal mate move another step closer.
Mikondor calls out: "-Yes, surrender your cattle to Murielle's custody! Mateo, get over here, and pull yourself together!" Murielle and Sophia both look confoundedly at Mikondor, cocking their heads and clearly wondering what in Kur he is talking about. Murielle opens her full lips and says to her lover: "I am not referring to…" - At that time, Sophia seizes the opportunity to quickly grasp Mateo by the right hip and arm, and half throw, half shove him at Murielle. The mouse-like lady has strength and quickness far beyond what would be expected of such a small body. None of the three others realize what is going on, until Mateo comes hurtling towards Murielle, hitting her with sufficient force to knock her backwards through the crypt, throwing her off-balance - though she remains upright. Mateo is also able to stay on his feet. Having distracted her rival in this way, Sophia leaps forward, flying over the sarcophagi and arching towards the door.
Mikondor stands confused for one moment; then he whirls around and throws himself at Sophia, who is by then passing through the door. He manages to grip her legs, and, throwing all his reserves into the effort, he holds onto her trashing form. Sophia is dragged downwards by his bulk, but retains her forward momentum, pulling him out through the crypt's door and into the dark passage outside.
He can hear some commotion from behind him.
Mateo and Murielle struggle to regain their balance, Mateo's attempt is rather distracted by the frightful proximity of Murielle, who is in turn distracted by shock and rage. The furious female throws a punch at Mateo's ill-treated body while still off-balance. The punch is well aimed, but Mateo stumbles sideways just in time to avoid it.
Mikondor desperately clings to Sophia’s legs with both his arms and legs, much like a monkey, trying to ground her. Quickly losing height and momentum, Sophia kicks squirms and punches at her unwanted passenger. Striking with the heel of her hand, she hits Mikondor’s head and the darkness of his surroundings is broken as stars and fireworks flash before his eyes. Though his mind goes into a blur streaked with agony Mikondor is nothing if not determined. He hangs on. As Sophia has sunk rather low, he lets go with his feet, kicks off against the floor and heaves his body further forward like a walrus heaving itself up on an ice floe. Sophia hisses angrily as she is pinned to the floor with the much larger Decrian on top.
As Mateo stumbles away, Murielle prepares to lash out at him again. Fortunately for the nobleman, she suddenly seems to recall the original source of her anger, and concentrates on regain her balance and turning around rather than on abusing Mateo. Pushing against the wall with her hands to gain support and momentum, she throws herself around and dives out through the doorway, twisting to the left, whence comes the muffled screeching of a very upset Sophia. Murielle glides away through the air like a seal through water, and Mateo is left alone in the candle-lit crypt. A few heartbeats thereafter, Sophia's screaming is cut off.
Mikondor lies in the darkness, the cool female body and much colder stone tiles beneath him. Sophia twists and squirms, but Mikondor's experience in unarmed combat serves him well, and he keeps his hold on the furious lamia, though her gnashing jaws come dangerously close to his neck. But the anaemic Decrian feels what meagre blood remains in his body beating at his throat and temple, each heartbeat like the stroke of a temple bell, and the interval between them like a Stroke [Ymirian hour - 120 minutes]. The strain is quickly becoming too much for his weakened body, and soon he will faint or let go, either of which would be disastrous. The coppery taste of fear is in his mouth, and he can feel his bile rising in his throat. Then, he feels a sudden jerk in Sophia's body, and she ceases her struggles. Her screams becomes soft gurgles. Mikondor feels a cool hand stroke his brow, and then hears Murielle's voice in his ear. Her exhalation tickles him as she says: "Now drink, my brave lover." He can smell blood.
Mikondor answers slowly, in a hushed yet determined voice: "The time is not right. You still need someone you can trust to look after you during the day." "This is the day, you know, and I feel no bloody desire to bury myself." replies Murielle. "Still, if you would refuse that which is offered to you, then feel free to do so." She sounds irritated. "I was just trying to help you make the Change with greater safety. Still, you know everything so bloody well and do not need to listen to me!" Mikondor continues: "Now, please give me a minute to collect myself. The past week has weakened me considerably, and my efforts these last few hours have all but exhausted what little energy reserves I had left."
Mikondor then slowly props himself up into a sitting position before he gets to his feet, using the wall for support until he is sure he can maintain his footing. Taking a deep breath, he gathers his resolve, and in his normal, strong voice asks Murielle: "Is it not time for the three of us to move on now? I do not know how things usually are in this place, but would it not be a good idea to disappear before the sentry guard has sealed of the other entrance. When he comes back he will most certainly notice this mess, and I really would hate it if he decided to do something stupid..." "Comes back? The other entrance? You are indeed confused, my dear." Murielle laughs. "The sentry is a ghoul - an eater of the dead." At this point there is the sound of flesh impacting on flesh, and Murielle hisses: "Lay still, sow! If you don't, I'll make you wish for a pyre!", then she continues lightly "His kind rarely if ever frequents these ancient catacombs, as there are no succulent, juicy corpses here, just old remains, dry as dust. While it is conceivable that the ghouls might take advantage of Darmant's death to try to rob us, I really do not think they will. If they do, our best defence would be inside the crypt, with the door locked and barricaded."
***
Mateo waits in the crypt. For the first few heartbeats, the sound of a struggle, probably involving Mikondor, Murielle and Sophia comes through the crypt door. Then the commotion ends, and is followed by muted voices. He hears female laughter, followed by further conversation.
The voices are suddenly interrupted by the advent of running feet and the shouting of a new woman: "By the might of the Crone, I abjure you! By the love of the Mother, I abjure you! By the wrath of the Maiden, I abjure you!" This is followed by the sound of a scuffle and the screams of a woman in pain. A man shouts "She is getting away", and the woman shouts once more "And personally, I want you to fuck yourself with an ashen stake - You rotting bitch!" There are further sounds of violence and sharp, hard objects being thrust violently through soft flesh.
The woman then speaks again, loudly enough to understand from the crypt. "Mikondor, you big handsome thing. It’s me – Agatha – the woman of your dreams! Literally! This is my friend Bruton…" then it grows softer, and unintelligible.
Rescue
In through the crypt’s door comes a dark haired young woman dressed in green hoses and a white blouse. She carries a shortbow with an arrow ready at the string. Upon seeing Mateo, she immediately aims at him. Mikondor follows right behind her, however, looking rather disoriented. "Oh. That’s Mateo. He is not a lamia, just a posh bastard." he says magnanimously
Upon closer inspection by Mateo’s trained eyes, the woman proves to be a gorgeous specimen, though perhaps a bit too slim. She has shapely legs and small, pert breasts, and dark, shoulder-long hair frames a beautiful face with soft brown eyes. She also has a simple, well-crafted shortbow and an arrow of white wood, with no metal head, just a sharp point at the end. It is still aimed straight at Sir Martini.
Another man appears, bringing up the rear. He looks to be in his late 20s, a short, robust man, no taller than the woman is. He is wearing a back-and-breast armour with tassets, soldiers’ boots and a wide-brimmed metal helmet. In his hands he holds a spear of the same wood as the woman’s arrow. This, too, lacks a metal head. The tip looks sooty. He keeps his attention on the darkness outside.
Mateo looks from Mikondor to the woman, then to the man, while saying (looking at Mikondor) "What on earth happened out there..." (turning his gaze to the two others)"…and who are you people." Mateo pauses before he continues. "I hope you're not lamiae, too"
Mikondor responds "I am not quite sure, but I think Sophia was staked and Murielle was driven off. Murielle and I had already thrashed Sophia rather badly, and Murielle was trying to get me to drink her blood. Then Aga and this guy attacked, and there were flashes of fire." The woman picks up from here "You get those when aesc wood touches lamia blood. To them, it is a caustic poison. So if you are a lamia, then this arrow will not only pierce your flesh, but also put it on fire. I guess it may be the best way to find out whether one is dealing with a lamia or a human". She gives Mateo a crooked smile.
The man picks up from there "You may call me Bruton. I am a mercenary, and on occasion I have worked for your father’s friend, Sir Antoine of Medocce. I just came along on this bloody sick venture ’cause Aga pleaded with me." Aga smiles more broadly and says in a sensual voice: "Well, Bruton, I needed a strong and valiant –man-, someone I could trust." "Well –I- don’t trust any of these men not to drink my blood, so will you at least put an arrow in that young gentleman over there?" replies Bruton. Still aiming at Mateo, Aga continues: " I am no lamia, my name is Agatha, though my friends call me Aga. I am a friend of Mikondor’s - though sadly we have never met until now. I am also a pretty good shot with a bow."
Mateo looks astonished and frightened at Bruton and says: "You think I'm a lamia, do you?"
"Yes" says Bruton.
"Then just look at my clothes, filthy and smelly as they are. No self-respecting person, such as myself would dream of being seen in such pathetic rags."
Bruton looks at Mateo and says "I have never thought of lamias as neat."
Mateo then looks at the arrow on Aga's bow and asks her:" Is that arrow clean?"
Aga thinks for a moment and then says "Check for yourself" and shoots Mateo. The white arrow tears a thin gash along Mateo's right arm, drawing blood but not causing any real damage. However, the wound feels as if it is on fire, and indeed, in the feeble candlelight, Mateo can see a thin wisp of smoke rising from the wound. "You're not well." says Aga as she pulls another arrow from the quiver.
While Mateo tries to comprehend the situation, Aga pulls out another arrow and puts it on the string. She does not aim at him again.
Mateo looks at Aga's arrow, and says: "Are you going to shoot me again? You've already done that once, and as you can see, I'm still living and breathing."
"You think I couldn't hit you in something more vital if I wanted to?" injects Aga with a look of disbelief.
Mateo pauses for two seconds, then he continues: "They did feed on and from me, but as you can see by my standing here, I am no lamia. Can we please move out of this sad, depressing place. I have not seen the sun for a while, nor had the chance to take a bath, get a shave or enjoy the feel of clean clothes."
As soon as he is finished, Mateo starts walking towards the door, while he asks them both: "Who knows the way out?"
"Both of us." says Bruton. "But do not get too close, Sir Martini, or I shall have to impale you on this nice pointy stick of mine..." he continues, waving his aescwood spear gently.
"Getting out into the sun is an excellent idea" says Aga. "Don't get too cocky about not being a lamia, though. And I want to have a look around before we leave. She slips her bow and arrow back into the quiver and begins poking around the crypt, flipping mattresses and peering into shadowy corners. Her quest fails to turn up anything new, but as she returns to the crypt door, she picks up the bag, which was dropped there earlier. It clinks metallically, and looks quite heavy for its size. Peering into it, she grins broadly. Then she ties it onto her belt and says "Alright - Let's go!"
Bruton uses his left hand to take out two torches from a satchel hanging in his belt. He tosses them at the feet of Mateo and says "light them up."
Mateo looks down at the torches at his feet, then picks them up, lights one of them using one of the candles, and lights the second torch with the first. The light of the torches is a bit painful to Mateo's eyes, accustomed to the dark as they are, but at the same time, he is happy to see light, at last, banishing the shadows of the crypt. He holds out one torch towards Mikondor.
Mikondor takes a hint and grabs one of the lit torches. Then the party heads out from the crypt. Mateo takes great effort to avoid every little drop of blood on the floor. He tries his best to think of Murielle as a woman, but fails. To his mind she is a monster, as are other women. Dangerous creatures out to suck his blood. He recites prayers to Jupiter on the way out, both for safety and to keep his thoughts occupied.
Coming forth by Daylight
Bruton and Aga walks at the very rim of the torch-lit circle, peering out into the darkness with spear and bow (respectively) held ready. Aga leads the way, hurriedly, through several paved passages, with skulls peering from countless niches. Eventually, the four reach a steep flight of stairs, and head up it. As they reach the top, Mateo and Mikondor are almost blinded by a bright rectangle of daylight blazing in from an open door. The four rush out and as soon as the two ex-cattle get used to the daylight, they both realize that they are standing in the old graveyard of Courite, which is inside the new city wall.
Mateo intones: "All praise to Jupiter, King of Gods. You have guided you follower through the utmost darkness and protected him from corruption."
Aga snorts "Praising his mother would be more fitting. The thunder-bloke had little to do with your rescue". Then she happily throw her arms around Bruton and kisses him firmly on the mouth. As she turns to Mateo, he steps back in a slight crouch, with a look of fear on his face, and with a shrug she turns to Mikondor instead, whom she snuggles up to, and they kiss, with Mateo watching anxiously, until Bruton grunts with impatience.
As Aga and Mikondor disentangle themselves, Bruton smirks and says: "How about a drink?" Mateo brightens up "An excellent idea – I am truly in need of some liquid refreshment. A stiff drink, to be precise. "
The four of them head from the crypt’s entrance, past numerous tombstones and crypts, through the arched gate and out into the street. They head for the first eatery they see, and Mikondor casually remarks "As a matter of fact, Mateo, I and Maurice had a meal here the other day. We were waiting for you to show up and duel with the man you insulted at ‘La Hydre’. Actually, we got along perfectly well with him and his seconds. He proclaimed you to be a coward rather than a gentleman, and I can’t say we disagreed." Mateo keeps a stiff upper lip and answers "I will have to cleanse my good name, then. But first I will nourish my deprived body. Red meat should fit the spot."
The four of them order a meal large enough to feed twice their number, and plenty of ale to go with it. After some ravenous eating, Mateo and Mikondor settle back to a more relaxed pace. Mateo proposes "A toast to you, my saviours!" They all eagerly drink to that. Mateo gulps down a mouthful of ale and grins contentedly. Cocking his eyebrow at Aga, he asks her "How in all the Heavens did you find us in that crypt? I thought we would never get out of that hole." Aga grins and answers "Fate guided us." Frowning slightly, the young nobleman gazes at Bruton, who shrugs and says "Don’t ask me. She told me where to go and what to bring." Mikondor grabs Aga’s hand and squeezes it gently, and they smile at one another.