Codex Mortem

A good bargain

Raiden

A woman filled four cups and left the solar quietly, with her eyes downcast in fear. The men waited till her steps faltered away, exchanging heated looks, but none made a move of any kind. The room was filled with tension. Like a small swirl of smoke from underneath a bale of straws, waiting for the right moment to burst and consume everything in its path.
"So, on which occasion do you honor us with your presence, King Caleb?" Raiden broke the silence.
Rhys grunted. Honor us? More likely piss us off, he thought.
"Well, King Raiden, I thought it's about time we talk. Especially after you put new rules in place," the vampire king said.
His second, Declan, was measuring Rhys up and down, just the way Rhys was measuring the two vampires seated in front of him.
"My rules are not your business," Raiden replied, lifting the cup up and to his lips, a sign of the host that they could have the refreshments.
The nightwalker leader lift his cup to his mouth as well, the same gesture being followed by Prince Declan, who eyed the drink grimacing.
"Oh, but they are," Caleb said. "You see, they actually go against our treaty. Indirectly, yes, but still against."
"How come?" Rhys asked, lifting his brows in a confused display.
This time, Declan grunted, his gaze keep scrutinizing the sweet aged grape liquor, swirling it in its cup with a smooth shake of his hand. If Rhys was to guess, he looked as he wanted to be here as much as Rhys wanted them here.
"Is this how you treat your guests, king Raiden?" Declan asked out of the sudden, "Is this how you treat your Royal guests, knowing that there is only one good taste for when their cups are filled?"
"That's unnecessary," Caleb cut him short.
Rhys knew what he meant. Raiden knew it too. There was only one liquid that pleased a nightwalker, red and warm. Yet, he was struck by the audacity of this vampire, and that made him only hate them more.
"You weren't invited." Raiden stated, sitting tall in his chair, eyeing the vampire prince with his regal dominance, his raw power. Declan stared into his eyes for a moment, then lowered his gaze. He was no match for a king.
The only one who could hold his gaze was Caleb, for they were equals.
"It seems that my Second forgot his place," Caleb intervened. "He will be corrected soon. But I'm afraid that we prefer at least a drop of the life liquid into our cups, just for reinvigoration. You see, we travelled a long way, and the daylight..."
"I understand, king Caleb. I don't want to look inconsiderate, but, as I said, you weren't invited. Nor did you announce your visit to us. And I can not feed you my slaves just like that."
"I came here out of courtesy," Caleb replied. "Since your new rules affect us all, my entire kingdom is brewing. And no, I wouldn't expect you to line up your slaves for our needs. A prisoner would do. If I recall correctly, you have an occupied cell by a lower, right?"
Raiden's jaw clenched. His hand that held the cup squeezed harder, till he heard a low crack. Some of the red, clear wine splattered on the wooden surface of his large desk, drops dripping down of his fist. Her beautiful face appeared before his eyes, and he imagined hearing her sweet voice for a moment. The voice of an enemy, the face of a traitor. A traitor whom his heart shattered for.
"My lord," came his prince's voice, his friend's soothing voice, bringing him back to reality.
"Prince Rhys, show Prince Declan our great hall on your way to the dungeon." Raiden commanded in a bitter voice. He still didn't want to risk a war. Not yet. He needed more time. Time to harden his packs and warriors, to strengthen his new friendship with the tarians, to get the moonberries... "A small cup would do for now."
Confused, Rhys looked at him. "My lord?" Did he hear well? Feed those leeches blood?
Raiden took a long breath; he couldn't afford a mistake, not in front of the bloodsuckers. Lifting his palm up, he dismissed whatever his Second was going to say further.
Caleb, taking the hint, nodded at his prince to follow the werewolf.
"Let's talk now."

Dawn

Cold. Wet. The senses came back to her, one by one. The stench, that musty, acid stench, was too familiar.
But why was she here? Muffled voices rose from somewhere close, the metal clinging. Steps approached then passed by, determined, its heavy thuds cut by the dampened filth underneath.
She tried to move, tried to get up, but the only thing she could command to her stiff, laying body was a small twitch. She tried to call, but her sandy throat couldn't let out nothing more than a cracked moan.
Mustering all her strength, she half opened her eyes in the dim light of the small cell. "Raiden," her heart called to his, the name materializing, a soft whisper in the air.
A heavy door opened, then closed.
He was gone without even a look towards her.
She closed her eyes again, drifting into a sweet slumber, going on and off with no sense of the time that passed.
"Why, Raiden?"
But there were no ears for her pleas, only loneliness...
Then, like a ruthless avalanche, the latest events poured over. Her small body crouched on the filthy floor, but she felt limp.
'Dawner' they called her, but she didn't care. Mother was gone, the only person she ever had. All the love, the care, protection, was gone.
Her heart rose to her throat, and it felt like a thousand knives were stabbing her.
The face of her mother crumbling into nothingness kept reappearing before her eyes... how they crumbled to the ground together, holding hands...
'Why am I not dead?' A lone tear made its way down on her cheek, falling down on the earthen floor, and another followed.