A Secret Man of Blood

Chapter Sixteen

"So, tell us about this Tancred," Squad says to Thomas Dukat as they move around the tunnels beneath Coldcastle's streets, their path curtained with gloom.

"He's my sire sibling. We were created by the same vampire," Dukat adds, seeing the confusion on Sig's face. Anya, Dukat, Indigo, Sig and Squad have been tracking Tancred, using Dukat's heightened senses, since the museum heist. "He was a warlord in his mortal life, three thousand years ago, and he's incredibly dangerous."

"He can't be that dangerous," Sig sniffs.

"Let's not forget," Squad smiles, "You're not always the best at detecting danger..."

*

A gigantic volcano erupts apocalyptically, lava speeding down its sides towards a town at its base, people running screaming through the streets as Sig, sitting calmly in a deck chair, takes a sip of his cocktail and eyes them sceptically.

"Why are you all running? Nothing's actually happened yet."

*

"...And I was right," Sig adds. "Nothing happened."

"The town was destroyed," Squad reminds him.

"Fair enough, but in my book—"

"'Sexual Harassment for Beginners?'" Anya suggests a title.

"I also run intermediate and advanced courses," Sig smiles. "But seriously, you guys treat me like a punchline—" Everyone nods and high-fives each other, "—even though I'm not that evil. It's not like I run around slapping young boys on the arse for fun."

"Why do you do it, then?" Indigo asks.

Everyone laughs, Sig loudest of all.

"Who is that, by the way?" Squad asks, pointing to a guy who's been walking beside Sig.

Sig smiles dismissively. "That's just my imaginary friend, Bob. Say hi, Bob."

"Hi," says Bob, waving to everyone.

Concerned, Anya turns to Sig. "...You are aware that Bob's real, right?"

Sig laughs sceptically. "Yeah, sure he is – you guys!" He asks Dukat. "So, what's so dangerous about this Tancred guy?"

"He's a three-thousand-year-old master vampire who also happens to be a distant relative of Bannan," Dukat states bluntly.

"Ba-who?" Sig asks.

"Oh my god, Sig, he's just one of the most famous people ever," Anya says. "Bannan, the prophet of Caliban, who freed the human ancestors of modern Kells, Samarians and Taburnians from slavery under the Elvish Winter King six-thousand-years-ago."

"I don't know about any of that shit!" Sig delicately explains. "I follow my own path. Each man has to wank in his own way."

"Anyway," Dukat interrupts. "By the time Tancred was born, three thousand years ago, his branch of the family was reduced to being obscure nobles, far removed from the so-called messiah they descended from. Tancred inherited the estate when he was young and became a seasoned warrior. He was a lion in battle but a sheep in strategy, falling into traps set for him by the enemy and escaping by feats of valour alone. By his early thirties he had proven himself as a warrior many times and lost a third of his territory.

"In the final battle, he took many wounds and gave many more, but it wasn't enough and he was carried, dying, into his besieged castle. Doused in pain and stinking of death, he ordered his men to carry him to the chapel, where he intended to die alone with the shame of getting his people killed and losing his family's land. His body was broken but, too proud to pray, his life seeped out in the throbbing, burning silence of that place and its walls."