Tomorrow's Shadow - 13. Life Lessons

“Perfect.” Gerik lay back on his elbows, watching the waves.

They were on a northern shore beach, half way to their next designation. They had unhitched the horse and started a gentle camp fire then a swim before feeding. Water droplets became glitter and diamonds on their skin under the bright moon. Only half showing, but away from city and town, still very bright.

“Vargon brought me here once while we were waiting on the Keep’s construction. We spent nigh on a half-moon before we headed back to Haven. Or what was Haven before the Keep.”

“The Keep hasn’t always been named Haven?”

“The Keep has. But the name ‘Haven’ was used by Vargon for wherever he set camp … long before he turned me.” He stretched then sat up, arms on his raised knees. “It would be no surprise to me if he claimed the name back. He should have it. It is his, after all. Though I’m not sure what we should call our home, should he do so.”

“Many people in town call it the ‘Stone Palace’. Father …” he paused as sorrow flashed across his face. “…father always called it ‘The Place’.

“The Place?”

“’The Place’ has a grand staircase; ‘The Place’ overlooks the sea; ‘It was good to dance at ‘The Place’; ‘The Place’ this and that.”

“You miss your parents.” It was not a question.

“At times, yes. If only he wasn’t so against us.”

“Perhaps sometime.” Stefano stood and offered a hand to his chylde. “Come. Let’s feed.”

“Feed? We are nowhere near any population. I thought you brought bloodwyne for this.”

“I brought bloodwyne in case it is needed. It is not needed this eve, there is plenty of wildlife.”

“Animals? Seriously?”

“I would not make a consistent diet of such, but for a night or two, they are fine.”

“So rabbits and gophers?”

Stefano laughed. “I would rather do with wyne than a gopher. Rabbits aren’t bad. But I have a better idea this eve.” He paused and turned as if listening. Or scenting.

“What is it?”

“Come.” Stefano led through a group of trees then stopped. “There. Concentrate your vision across the field. In the grove there.”

Gerik leaned a little forward and narrowed his eyes, searching. Suddenly he stood full and smiled. “He’s a big one. Nice large rack. F. . Father would approve.”

“Let us dine. Follow.” Stefano stepped into shadow and moved along the edge of the meadow. Tall grasses moved like caught in a gentle current, blown by the warm summer breeze. Flowers dotted the ground, a kaleidoscope of colors when the taller grasses leaned the right direction. The far grove of trees provided a canopy against the light, a safe place for a variety of animals. Stefano swore under his breath as he stepped on burr runner, a small plant notorious for its abundant thorned beads. As he walk-hopped to a grassy area and flopped himself down, their intended meal leapt into the dark recesses of the grove. He pulled up his leg and began gently pulling out the thorny burrs.

Gerik sighed. “There goes our food. All my time hunting and I have not seen such a fine deer. He would have satisfied, I believe.” He looked down at his sire. “Maybe if we had gotten dressed first?”

Stefano pulled the last from his foot and rubbed a hand vigorously across the sole. “Done, I think. And if we had taken time to dress, we would have missed timing with the deer. Which is not gone, just moved. Follow.”

Gerik smiled at Stefano’s one-word directions. They were never spoken as commands, though someone outside their relationship might take them as such. When he asked Stefano about it, the answer was equally concise. “Superfluous words. Why should I say ‘follow me?’ If I say ‘follow’, do you not know I mean me?” Gerik had laughed at it, he almost did at its memory.

Stefano wove soundlessly through the grove, being careful to avoid any more surprises. He made a couple sharp turns and moved into the bushes of a small glen. “I think the Fates themselves created this. Note how it is almost a perfect circle without a tree. Just the fine green grasses.”

“But why are we here?”

“Wait a moment. Watch.” After a few moments he pointed a short distance from them. “There.”

Gerik’s eyes widened as the buck stepped out and looked around the area before grazing. “How did you know?”

“Experience, dear one. You will learn in time.”

“May I take him down?”

“Yes. I would enjoy watching your prowess, my heart.”

Gerik moved slowly, each step carefully planned, occasionally seeming the wrong direction as he stayed in the low grass and moss, silent and still. When he drew near he paused and extended his fangs. In a blur he moved the last few yards and hit the animal on its side, knocking it to the ground. He moved like lightning to the neck and pierced an artery. The animal became quiet almost immediately as he drank.

Stefano walked up and smiled. “There should be plenty for both of us…”

Gerik nodded, not removing his mouth. He gestured with a hand and Stefano moved near, crouching low. As his chylde moved away, Stefano was on the animal in an instant, drinking hungrily. The deer’s eyes glazed over and its breathing stopped before he finished. Finally he stood, licking his lips. “Exquisite. Just recently matured.”

“You can tell?”

“Like all things, with practice.”

Gerik knelt and ran a hand over the animal’s side. “It’s almost a fur, so soft. Just more stiff than true fur. It is a shame there are no muritor present to use the meat.”

Stefano arched a brow. “When did you begin speaking Rom-Gypsy?”

Gerik laughed and stood. “I have been studying for a while now, when you have been out or busy elsewhere. I wished it to be a surprise. I did say that right, didn’t I? The word for ‘mortal’?”

“You did indeed. And it is quite a surprise.” Stefano glanced eastward where the black sky was blending into a dark blue. “We need to prepare the wagon. Come.”

When they returned to the camp, Gerik began by dousing the remnants of their fire. Stefano ducked into the wagon and returned with four posts, each about two inches around and four foot in length. One end had been narrowed into a dull point. He tossed them to Gerik then slipped back into the wagon where he began unfolding a heavy dark material. He draped it through hoops along the braces of the wagon until he had made a light-proof cocoon. The one spot to be sealed was at the front of the wagon. Stefano stepped out in time to see Gerik finish with the warding poles. He started by standing at a corner of the wagon. Then eleven steps diagonally away and he would set the pole firmly in the ground. The prince waited for his chylde to finish, then held open the wagon flap to let Gerik through and followed him in.

Once inside, Stefano sealed the last opening by folding one side into a pocket sleeve on the other. At this point no light could enter the wagon. Stefano turned to find Gerik had already pulled back the coverlets on the wagon floor. Each kindred opened a small box and took out a handful of soil. The dirt was then sprinkled on the bottom pad and then overlaid by a single coverlet, then each box was sealed. The men embraced for a tender kiss before they began undressing for the day.

“Stef, tell me again why we sprinkle the ground each night? It’s not required at the Keep to be redone every evening, why here? That much light does not come in.”

“Not much, but enough. And once the soil is contaminated by the sun, it must be replaced. So we clear out the old at the beginning of the night, and refresh it when we seal up while the sun is in the sky.”

“Perhaps I just have not fully grasped the power of the light of the sun. It explains why we are not up at all during light hours, even in the caverns of our room.” He paused, thinking. “And the warding poles – they will really hide us?”

“Viktor assures me that with the four properly placed, all mortal life will be kept away from our resting place. Should someone come close enough to catch the slightest glimpse, the wagon will blend away into the background. Vargon has confirmed he has used them for generations.”

Gerik stretched slowly then dropped to his knees before lying out fully. He watched as his sire finished undressing, his dark eyes alive with desire. Stefano laid next to him and they pulled into an embrace, legs entwined.

Stefano yawned. “If you rise first, wake me. We still have a lot of ground to cover before we reach Rensdale.”

Gerik grinned. “That you can count on, my heart.”

The next night they traveled quickly, stopping at one point to feed, but then immediately moved on. They reached their next location a few hours before morning broke through. They camped near the inlet of a small lake, the wagon nestled in bush and tree. As Stefano unhitched the horses, Gerik prepared a fire, but since they would be leaving momentarily, he did not light it.

“With it this close until dayfall, couldn’t we wait until next evening?”

“I told Turk we would arrive this night. We may need to return tomorrow eve, we shall see.”

The small village of Rensdale lay in a valley, surrounded by mountain and hill. The simplest routes in and out of the village were along the river that flowed through the area. By camping near the mouth of the river, Stefano had ensured their journey on foot would be gentle and easy. As they drew close, both men admired the natural spires of stone that stood on either side of the valley’s opening. They headed for the fire burning in the center of town. As they passed by house and shop, people began to congregate around them. There were pleasant welcomes given by many.

Gerik began to appreciate his sire’s position by how quickly villagers opened to him. When they stopped near the fire, he turned his head slowly, sensing the air. He turned to Stefano, curious. “Mortals?”

Stefano nodded. “There are many here, though all are quite aware of our people. They live here, sleeping in the security kindred provide; then it reverses at dayfall. Typically most are subjugates.”

“They have drunk kindred blood? This is fascinating. I knew that relationship could exist, but never expected to see it on such a wide scale. Though I understand it. The villagers have protection and the kindred have sustenance. Yet not all are prepared?”

“Not the very young. They are first allowed to mature; many to marry and have their own children. Though all adults will be subjugates, not all will be used for feeding. And none are taken until done bearing children.” Stefano smiled and extended a hand in greeting as the village’s representative stepped forward.

“Well met, my Lord Prince. It is good to see you again.”

“Well met indeed, Turk. You are looking fit and fed.” Stefano looked at the people and various buildings. “Quite peaceful, Rensdale.”

Around the center stood houses and shops of varying shapes and sizes. From what Stefano and Gerik could see, the shops to be shorter while homes often had multiple floors. While a house would have the appearance of a cottage, shops had a more regal, almost gothic front. Typical cobblestone streets wound through the village, tying everything together. A large well was situated the western edge of center village which permitted people to get water without having to carry in from the river.

“It is, Lord Stefano. Very peaceful. A grand place to live. We have only one issue for your attention.”

“Oh? And that is?”

Turk thought a while before continuing. “Some of our subjugates would like to meet the new Prince. They had met with your sire on occasion and wish that to continue with you.”

“Please, bid them come.” Stefano leaned over to Gerik. “If you need, return to our camp. This can be very stressful for the beast when we have not fed of recent.”

“I shall, Sire. If I need to.”

Stefano turned to greet six mortals as they approached. He shook each hand, mentally holding back his own inner beast as his skin came in contact with the warmth of their hands. Gerik simply nodded his head in greeting when introduced, most would return it. He was thankful none tried to shake his hand; his hunger raged within him just watching Stefano come in contact. After the fifth greeting, he interrupted the proceedings and spoke to his sire. “My Lord Prince, I need to step out for a few minutes.”

Stefano smiled, pleased with the manor Gerik used to break away. “Of course, my chylde. I shall be here.”

Gerik left, walking briskly into the shadows away from the central fire. Once out of sight, he wrapped his arms around himself and groaned quietly.

“May I assist?”

Gerik jumped and turned to watch a mid-aged woman walking up. He composed himself, allowing her to keep speaking.

“I am Tranad, one of Turk’s daughters.”

“Well met then, Tranad. I am Gerik. I am only a trifle tired from our journeying, but I do thank you. “

“You hold yourself like one in great need, I am subjugate, Lord Gerik. I wish only to serve.” She stepped forward, her heat encompassing him. “Please, use me.” Gerik’s hand shook as he lightly touched her cheek. “You are most kind, mistress, but I truly just need a moment.” He smiled at her. “But I may accept that offer, should we remain for tomorrow eve.”

She followed his motions, lightly stroking his cheek. Her eyes radiated desire, but whether to allow feeding or intimate contact was difficult to determine. “As you wish then, my lord. Good night.” She turned and walked away casually.

Gerik closed his eyes. No. I shall not partake without speaking with Turk first. Stef would not be pleased should I overstep my welcome by lacking proper restraint. I will not succumb. . I am Gerik, son of Lord Stefano, Prince and Sire. He slowly began to calm. Once he was back to his senses, he returned to Stefano’s side.

Stefano was speaking to a few of the village elders. There was some laughter, it was clear they were comfortable and accepting of each other. He slipped an arm around Gerik’s waist, then looked at him, brow raised. Strong emotions were flowing from his chylde - Emotions and need. He turned back to the elders.

“If there is nothing else, and all is settled, I believe Gerik and I shall leave at next moonrise and continue our travels.”

Turk replied. “Of course, Lord Stefano. It has been a great pleasure having our Prince in our midst. We will hope for a return soon, but understand you have a large territory to cover, as well as your personal life.” He grinned at Gerik. “Gerik, it was good to see you again as well. You disappeared on us, are you all right?”

“I am, Turk – your concern is warming to the soul. I hope I may return sometime to learn more of Rensdale and its people.”

Stefano bid their final goodbyes and left, holding his love’s hand. They walked in silence until clear of the village where Stefano finally spoke what was on his mind. “Something troubles you, I can feel it.”

“I am sure you realized why I left the group. You were right, being that close to the mortals was weighing heavy on me. Then, while I was recuperating, Turk’s daughter walked up and offered herself. I, of course, did not feed. Not without speaking to her father first. And to you. I am still unclear sometimes as to proper protocol when traveling your territory.”

“You did well, dear heart. Your growth and maturity is a grand sight to witness.”

“Thank you sire. It is still an hour or more before we must retire. Did you want a fire for a while?”

“That would be pleasant, Gerik. Please do. I shall pull a couple of bottles and we can sit and talk, sire to chylde, prince to subject, or lover to lover. Whichever should arise first.”

Gerik grinned mischievously. “Arise? I may know the answer to that one.”

. . . . .

Their second evening home, Stefano and Gerik were entertaining Ferris and Liness Stonce from the mainland. The couple were friends with the Falows. The four had shared a late dessert and glasses of sherry at a table on the balcony so Lord Stonce could smoke his pipe. When he stood to empty the spent pipe into the ashcan, the light, sweet scent of cherry wafted from him. “It has been a pleasant evening, but Liness and I should be returning home. “

Stefano and Gerik stood; Stefano shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, Lord and Lady Stonce. It was nice spending time with you. Remember now, your eldest is welcome to come with you next time.”

“I’m sure she will be ecstatic. Come, Liness.”

Lord Stonce helped his wife stand. She said her quick good-byes and they headed for the front doors. The indoor footman had reached for one of the knobs when both doors swung. Vargon and Odessa stepped in and the two couples greeted each other. Vargon then offered his hand to Lord Stonce.

“I am glad we were able to see you before you left. It is a shame you and Lady Liness cannot stay a while. Perhaps next time Odessa and I visit we can meet over drinks.”

“I would enjoy that, Lord Vargon. Good night, then.”

“Good night.”

A footman closed the doors behind the Stonces while Vargon and Odessa walked to the bar.

“Sire, Odessa, how splendid to see you both. To what do we owe for the honor of your visit?”

Vargon frowned as his eyes flashed once. “Is that sherry? Viktor, Odessa and I would enjoy a glass of the same. As to our visit, I’m afraid our woods have become infested.”

“Infested? That is sad news indeed. What blight has descended upon the trees?” Stefano set his glass on the bar; Viktor swiftly refreshed it with more of the sherry.

“Wolven”

“Wolven? That is a blight indeed.”

Gerik had Viktor refill his glass as he interjected. “What are wolven? I don’t remember them from my lessons.”

Stefano sipped his drink. “You would know them as werewolves. I did not mention them because I would rather forget they exist. They are foul, spiteful creatures that have been at war with kindred since the dawn of their unfortunate existence.” He set his glass down. “Viktor, I believe I will need a house brandy. A double if you would.” Stefano turned back to his sire. “I thought the agreed settlement of peace declares they are not to venture into our lands as we are to stay from theirs.”

Vargon shook his head. “It appears one of their kind is disregarding that settlement. I did not wish the confrontation, signs of his presence were throughout the woods. As the warding sticks would not shelter the wagon, I brought my love to safety.”

Odessa stretched up to kiss his cheek. “And I love you for the compassion.”

Gerik entered the conversation. “You said ‘his’, my lord. How do you know it is male?”

“Only the male mark territory by slashing a tree then urinating on the area, and his signs and odor are everywhere.”

Stefano rook a long slow sip of his drink before he spoke again. “How many do you think there are? Is it one male with the usual harem, or a full pack?”

“I have not seen any. But I talked to a friend of mine in Silver Wolf’s pack and she…”

Stefano interrupted Vargon, confusion and dismay clouding his face. “Wait! You are friends with wolven?”

“Fair question, even if rudely posed. I have one friend who is a monthly wolven. She only turns during wolfmoon, unlike so many that have given up their mortal shell completely. According to her, word is out that a rogue male, name of ‘Draxis’, has been terrorizing various communities. I understand that he even killed several in his own pack before they managed to drive him out.”

“They should have ended him. By the Fates! Did it appear as if he was headed north? Or east? Your terri--- my territory lies in that direction from your camp, unless you moved it.”

“No, had not moved Haven. But now it is here, on the island. Safe from the likes of Draxis.”

Stefano looked to Gerik, who nodded in response. They both heard it; they would be renaming the Keep - but something else hung in the air from Vargon's statement.

"It sounds like you know this wolven."

Vargon sighed. "We have crossed paths in the past. It is not something I enjoy thinking over; Lady Death nearly claimed us both that night. All things as they are, I am weary and would like to rest. We can discuss Draxis another time." He finished his sherry and set the glass on the bar. "Odessa and I fed afore we arrived, and my mind calls to withdraw for a spell. Odessa, you are free to remain and talk if you wish. Stefano, Gerik, Viktor, I bid you all a restful night.” Vargon slowly headed up the stairs to his suite of rooms.

Stefano looked to Odessa, his face etched with concern. “Is he alright? I know he claims to be fine but I can’t help but worry. You understand that.”

“I do understand. And yes, he is fine. It’s not unusual for him to be tired like this, it happened even before the fire, so don’t try to take any blame. He truly is fine, Stefano. Our sire just takes it very hard when things he strives for are lost.” She stepped forward and patted his cheek. “That’s why he’s so pleased with you, brother-of-blood. I am going up to be with him. You two enjoy the rest of the night.”

“You as well, Odessa. Sweet respite.”

Gerik added, “Goodnight, Odessa.” He looked at Stefano. “She is a nice woman. Vargon did well in choosing her.”

Viktor spoke from behind the bar. “If you have nothing else, I will bid you a good night as well.”

“Goodnight, Viktor.”

“Goodnight, dear friend.” Stefano finished his drink. “And yes, Gerik, she is very nice. Vargon does seem to know how to find beauty, poise, charm, and intelligence in his children.”

“Don’t forget modesty.”

“Is that a slight?” Stefano laughed. “You must be repaid for that comment.” He lunged for his chylde, forcing thoughts of wolven and other troubles from his mind, at least for the time being.

Gerik managed to dodge him and race for the balcony doors. The youth was also laughing by the time he hit the stone steps and charged for the beach, Stefano close on his heels.

. . . . .

A lone wolven walked around the small meadow, following prominent wheel marks. There were kindred here earlier - their odor remains. He followed the tracks a few yards then stopped where the indentions in the grass ended. They slip into shadow. So my adversaries are not stupid. This could turn to be an enjoyable hunt. He bent low to pick up some of the crushed blades and rubbed them under his nose between thumb and forefinger. And if my sense of smell is accurate, which I know it is, my old ‘friend’ is one of them. What fortune to find him as well.

Draxis snarled, then released a long, mournful howl. I sense you are near, Vargon, prince of the damned. And I shall find you.