Vampires on Horses

We wait in agony.

Hours pass and my hourglass is slowly running out of sand on one side. Every hour or so, I turn the hourglass to keep the time. Five turns have already passed, and yet the army does not return. I sit blankly out into my window, and I see no trace of them. Somehow, I am getting tired of listening to Aretha reciting her chants to the sun. She is wishing for the safety of our men. I cannot see how deep this superstition can go. Chanting will not help our men.

What's worse is that Olghar also decided to map out the plans on the table. As his fidgeting hands flow along the map, he mumbles some words over I cannot understand. There are figures of werewolves, three vampires on horses, and the Undead on the map. Certainly looking at his anxiety is a lot better than hearing "dear sun, grant the army safe keeping" all over again from Aretha.

"What's that?" I ask Olghar.

I take a vampire on a horse figure and feel the intricate details. After looking at the fangs and the little hair details on the horse, I realize that it is made of wax. Only an elf could have made this. It's too delicate for anyone else to do.

"Don't take that!" Olghar exclaims while forcefully taking the wax figure away. "That is Lord Dario, Melchior's father, and don't touch any of this. I'm still trying to figure things out!"

He places it back in the center of its position on the model of the human village. Slowly, I back away from the table and look at the map. I see three vampires on horses being surrounded by hundreds of werewolves. Around the army is thousands of the Undead. Now, I understand. This is his visualization of the attack. As I see his shaking hands place an Undead figure near a vampire lord, I place my hand on his hand to calm it.

"Don't touch me!" Olghar exclaims. "Don't ruin my thinking!"

The figures are merely as tall as he is. They are as tall as the palm of my hands. Somehow, Olghar is strong enough to move it around easily.

"What is the matter anyway?" I say calmly. "Stop being anxious. I will listen."

Then, he stops. He let go of the figure and hopped on my shoulder. With a little sigh, he speaks his words.

"I'm worried," he says frankly. "I'm worried about the army and Melchior's father."

I look at Melchior and there I see him in one corner sharpening his dagger. With the turn of his face, I can simply look away. I can't bear seeing him. It only reminds me of how cruel my father can be with his subjects. On one side, I can still hear Aretha's chants. It's not like she's a fairy or some wish-granting being. I don't see how she can just wish to the sun and wish it to come true.

"How will this help?" I ask him. "Don't be anxious. Let the army do their work."

"Rordan, their numbers are too low. Even if we have the chance due to our speed and strength, no doubt they are stronger. Who's to say what tricks they have up their sleeves? What if they have some help from the enemy hordes of your House. Remember, many hate your rule."

Again, his paranoia and anxiety are always there. I've learned to stand it all these years, and his words are no surprise to me at all.

"I know. I understand. I wish I could head out myself, but I can't do that. My presence at the human village is already questionable. I'll need to keep it low for now."

Slowly, the sun lets out a ray of scarlet across the skies. From scarlet to orange, she takes her beauty rest. It's not only the sun that rests, but also Aretha. She finally puts her raised arms down and takes a deep breath. Finally, it's the silence that I seek.

"It is done," she says quietly. "They won."

*

The portcullis of the castle gates rises for the arrival of men. Soldiers march in unison as they enter the courtyard. Lords Ettore, Gaspare, and Dario ride in front with their horses. As they enter, the ladies of the court wave their kerchiefs up in the air with smiles on their faces. They shout cheers and praises for them. As a sign of honor before them, I stand outside of the entrance of the palace with my crew. I wait for the lords to unmount themselves from their horses.

After they bowed in respect, I gesture them to rise up.

"Your efforts will be honored, my lords," I say loudly with a smile. "I believe, my father, the king, commands you to be at the great hall to receive proper honors and celebration."

With silent pride, they rise from their stance. Unexpectedly, Melchior runs up to his father, and within moments, he is in his arms. Together, they are in each other's arms. They embrace each other tightly as if they will never see each other again. I smile at the sight of this father-son duo.

Much to my surprise, a pixie page hands over a sealed message before. I receive the message kindly and open it. After I have read the contents, things could not go more confusing for me. Before I could return the message, the pixie had gone her way.

"What is it?" Aretha asks worriedly.

"A message," I answer. "Father requests the presence of the whole court now. All must attend the dinner at the great hall and be in their best clothing."

"Does it say anything about the vampire lords?" Olghar asks.

"It is especially about them," I say. "They must appear in father's presence while wearing white."