Enemies Around Us

Damian's eyes widened. The only human knight Fieren had buried in a golden coffin was Van Helsing.

"Are you sure of what you're saying?" his mind raced. How could Dimitri be Van Helsing's son? The Great War was 20 years ago. But now that he thought about it, it seemed plausible, Dimitri looked like he was in his early 40's. 

"Of course, I'm sure. How could I ever forget the day my father was buried? My siblings and I as young as we were, stood before the open grave with tears in our eyes. We were each given a medal from father's armour. Everyone else kept their but I burnt mine. To me, Helsing wasn't my father. He didn't even bear our last name."

He gave a short laugh and went on. "Do you know his name was Abraham van Yelmen. Helsing was actually a title given to him by his enemies who say 'Hell sings when Yelmen walks in'"

Damian returned his attention to sailing. Guilt suddenly filled his heart and he nearly apologised to Dimitri for depriving him of his father but it was the same man who chose war over his family.

"My father chose war over us. He was the same man that told us 'A man should never ignore the needs of his family'. That's what House Yelmen was known for and will be known for because I won't do to my children what my father did to me." Dimitri looked down at his boots. 

"I'm sorry," Damian blurted out without thinking. 

"It's fine," Dimitri smiled. Then his smile fell. "What happens when you find the white wooden stake?"

"I die." Damian replied softly.

"You die? But don't you have someone waiting for you? Someone you love?" 

Immediately, Damian thought of Lucia. He missed her company and wished he had never left her. He even wondered how she was faring but wouldn't know. He wasn't there with her. 

Damian let out a low growl as he dragged his hand through his hair. "Dammit."

"If there's someone waiting for you, don't do it. Don't hurt her." Dimitri took to his feet.

"Sit down, Dimitri. The current's rising." Damian said.

"Damian, listen to me. Killing yourself cannot be redemption!" Dimitri retorted. 

Damian clenched the wheels. That was exactly the same thing Bat had told him. Bat, he wondered where he was too. 

"There is no other way!" Damian thundered. 

"There is. You just haven't found it yet!" Dimitri yelled back.

"Oh really? And if I don't see it then you do?" Damian retorted sarcastically.

"You know I never meant it like that, Damian." Dimitri finally took his seat when the boat began to shake.

"There is nothing left for me to return to, Dimitri. I've made my decision." Damian said softly as he navigated the boat with the compass.

"Fine. Once we arrive Clarosha, send me back home." Dimitri turned away.

Dimitri's sincerity irked Damian and he yelled. "Why! Why are you helping me when no one would? What is it that you hope to gain because if there is something then I'm sorry to burst your bubble because there is none! I have nothing! No one to call my own! No one to lend me a helping hand! Even the vampires I sired are those who want me dead so you will gain nothing." 

"Gain?" Dimitri scoffed. "I have smuggled Faes, Furies and humans across the four kingdoms for 22 years. Only a few survive during their journey. It had been difficult but they always fought. They all fought for thier freedoms. Each one! But here you are, the first of the first to ever travel to the place of his death. Do you know what it does to my conscience? Taking the money of a dead man?"

"I don't have time for this, Dimitri." Damian said quietly.

The morning skies greyed in the East and the Glmores squakwed in the air as they flew by in their numbers.

"We're almost there." Dimitri whispered. When Damian didn't reply, he added. "I'm not going in with you."

"I know," said Damian. "Only the dead walk on Clarosha."

A Raven flew towards the open window and a hand snatched it, pulling it in. 

August lifted the paper for Jarlen to see. On the crest was a sigil - two swords crossed against each other while lying on a crown of roses. "Another Raven from von Burren."

Jarlen nodded his head. "Yes?"

August read through it, his eyes growing wide as he concluded the letter. "He's here. My uncle's here!"

As if on cue, Sir Carlton Wales knocked and entered. "Sires, a messenger is at the gates. He claims to be from Houee von Burren."

"That's my uncle. Is he with his entourage?" asked August.

"I'm afraid so," Sir Wales bowed his head. "He even brought an army." 

"What?" Jarlen leapt off his seat.

Maids scurried around the castle in preparation of the Count and his men.

"Where are we with dinner!" Cesar barked as he walked in.

"It is ready, sir!" The Head Cook called room where she stood at the long table dishing out the meal.

"I want you to be as fast as you can. De Caspia might be a kingdom but our strongest allies are the von Burren's. I hope you saw to it that their dinner is up to standard of the humans" he asked the Head Cook.

"Yes, my lord." The woman bowed her head humbly.

"Go on then."

Count Eric was laughing wildly in the dinning hall with Jarlen when Cesar walked in. He was startled. Wasn't this the man who brought 2,000 men with him to their doorstep? He even wondered how a single man would raise that much of an army in such a short time? Was he even a Count? 

"My lords, dinner is served." he said with a bow.

Eric, mildly intoxicated with wine, laughed. "Ah. Food is here."

"Yes" Jarlen signalled to Cesar and the man stepped back to hold open the door.

The maids pushed in the trolleys of food and began to pass them out on the long table. 

The Head Cook, a tall fair skinned woman with brown curly hair held in a scarf, stepped forward. "My lords, dinner is The Opera House."

"Oh, sounds theatric." Eric grinned as he sipped more wine.

The Head Cook explained. "The Opera House is an assortment of dishes - The first course is the Pheasant pâté en croute, served with a side pickled vegetable and a drizzle of apple juice. The next is a roasted swan with a cherry compote and a sprinkle of edible gold dust…

Eric interoised with a laugh. "Edible gold dust? You all amuse me. Carry on."

"With pleasure," The Head Cook smiked and uncovered the third plate. "This is steamed eel with a sauce of garlic, herbs and stewed fruits. The last is poached salmon served with a pickled fennel and a salmon suace. For dessert, we have the spiced wine with a selection of sweet wafers and biscuits." 

Eric chuckled with glee as he clapped his hands and stared at the plates. "Looks like an opera house to me."

Jarlen burst into laughter. "Sure, it does."

Eric took hold of a spoon and the first dish was brought near - Pheasant pâté en croute, served with a side pickled vegetable and a drizzle of apple juice.

While everyone waited for him to have a taste, he turned to the Head Cook. "Have a taste of them all."

The woman's eyes widened in shock. "My lord?"

Jarlen scoffed. "Is that really necessary? We're all having a good time and the maids are all stressed out from preparing your meal. Let them be and just eat, eh?"

"No," Eric objected. "Don't you vampires eat food in here? Have a taste." 

The cook turned at Cesar who blinked once.

"Right - Right away, my lord." she reached for a spoon and dipped it into the plate.

"Swallow." Eric instructed.

She brought the spoon to her lips and swallowed. When nothing happened, she went to the second and to the third until she finished the entire course.

"See? Nothing happened." Jarlen smiled as he clapped his hands with glee.

"Wait. Look at her face." Eric pointed at the Head Cook whose face turn bluish.

He stood to his feet. "This isn't the first attempt on my life neither will it be the last. Ladies and gentlemen, I have been in this game of politics since I was a boy. You all can't fool me. You think you can make me intoxicated with wine so I won't know my left from my right? Ah, and I thought it's humans that bite the hand that feeds rhem."

Jarlen pushed back his seat. "I had no intention of poisoning you. Not when I'm your beneficiary. It must be him!" 

Cesar was taken aback. "Me?"

"Yes! He was Damian's ally. Who knows what kind of poison was that?" Jarlen said.

The cook wheezed for air and collapsed to the floor.

Eric smiled. "Did the soldiers frighten you? I only brought them here for your support. Damian has my daughter and probably has reinforcements…

'Oh, I thought the soldiers were for us. Thank heavens.' Jarlen thought to himself. 

"Damian doesn't have any reinforcements. He is not preparing for war." Jarlen said.

"But that's what you told me. Did you lie, Jarlen?" Eric asked.

"Who doesn't?" Jarlen smiled.

"Hmm….so you're saying this man here singlehandedly planned to kill me? Eh, Jarlen?" Eric asked.

Before Jarlen would reply, Cesar fell on his knees. "My lord, forgive me." 

"You tried to kill me, boy?" Eric approached him with a smile.

Cesar's voice was shaky as he spoke. "I was afraid a war might break out….

He knew what he was getting into when he was knighted by Jarlen. He had sworn his fealty, to give his life no matter the situation. And now, he regretted it. It was Jarlen's plan to kill Eric and now, because he was some stupid knight, he would take the fall for it.

"So you told your little girlfriend to poison me?" Eric grabbed the man's chin.

Cesar's pupil dilated as Eric's nails pinched his skin. He was terrified for his life. He never knew the cook. He didn't even know her name but he had to play along. 

"Forgive me, please." Cesar pleaded with tears in his eyes.

Eric chuckled and pulled his face. "I'm not God. I do not forgive."