CHAPTRER 11

Tyrion, who was still perched on the table, slowly scanned the crowd of men who were now literally shoving each other out of the way to get the dwarf's attention.

 Ever since transforming into a vampire, I had not experienced such an irresistible urge .

I couldn't help being thrilled by the eagerness these men were putting into the unknown. The pounding of hearts, the rush of adrenaline, the scent of fear and excitement—all fueled the hunger within me, threatening to push me beyond control.

 I had to stay composed.

Losing control here would instantly jeopardize my plans. So, I took a deep breath, letting the aroma of wine and perfume from the woman standing next to me fill my lungs, grounding me in the moment.

"What you need is a real soldier,"

A man's voice rose above the roar of the crowd, and the noise hushed a bit as most people turned to see where it had come from. I wasn't surprised at all. It was the captain of the Umber house guards whom I had met last night at the inn.

His eyes, too, were on mine.

I had to say, this turn I had not foreseen. It was an unspoken rule that made all Northern men hate the Lannisters, and the Lannister men reciprocated in turn, so for a soldier loyal to a noble house in the North to volunteer to champion a Lannister... well, it was close to unheard of. So why? Why would he do it?

His thoughts were simple to tap into. There was the money, of course. I mean, he was just a soldier, albeit one with a rank, but still... the pay the Lannister was offering would go a long way. Plus, deeper, there was an ego—an ego that I had apparently hurt.

I had not interacted with him or his men thus far, and I found myself wondering what I had done to hurt the man.

But no matter.

 Being Dracula, I was bound to have an intimidating effect on most people. Some, though, did not respond well to it, especially if they were used to being the ones in the intimidating position.

Tyrion immediately clapped his hands with drunk enthusiasm.

 "Now, that is the spirit, Ser... you are my champion," the dwarf then staggered off the table and pushed the crowd aside, standing next to his champion.

 He took yet another gulp from his mug and pushed the nearest man aside.

 "Now... make space... we need space... yeah... a good arena right here," he stopped at the center of the space that had been created quite fast. It is amazing how people love to see brawls accelerated into fights.

On my part, I did not find it necessary to follow the dwarf's terms.

What the drunk imp was doing was exerting himself above me. He had not known my identity; he did not even know my name yet he assumed he could dictate what I could or could not do here. Accepting his stupid challenge would be acknowledging him as ranking higher than me, something I wasn't about to do. Plus, my hunger was growing worse, and what I needed was blood. If I embarked on that duel and someone accidentally bled, I did not want to think about what would transpire.

You see, even though I had turned into Dracula, I was still a vampire fledgling. True, I had all the memories of the ancient, most powerful undead. I also had his abilities, but practicing control was something entirely different. This aspect had been known to suppress even the most powerful of my kind.

"Now, what you need are the rules as well as a man to handle the prize," another voice easily rose above the rantings of Tyrion, and this time almost everyone fell silent and simultaneously turned to see the speaker. Even though he had not featured for a long period in the show, it was not hard to recognize the tall, imposing figure.

Benjen Stark was clad completely in the usual colors of a crow—black to the toe. Behind him, however, was where my eyes flew, and I breathed a silent relief when I saw the two other men... maybe boys would be more appropriate.

Both Jon and Sam were standing right behind the First Ranger. Jon's face was calm, but his eyes danced curiously across the crowd. Mine was on Sam. I had not spared much thought for the boy after I had arrived at the Last Hearth late last night. I was actually surprised to see the calm look on his face based on what he had undergone last night.

 Of course, Sam being a noble meant he would likely be received first at the castle, even though his house was not on solid terms with Northern houses. What I was wondering was whether he had told the story about what had happened to his men.

But seeing the relaxed look on Jon and his uncle, I decided that it was not likely.

They would not even be here had they known about the incident. For a brief moment, my eyes met his... our eye contact lingered for a bit before he dropped it.

Of course, there was no sign of recognition there. I knew at the moment, Sam was suffering alone. He did not know who to trust... he did not know whether he himself was losing his mind

 He was clearly going with the easiest way instead—denial. Having questions, none of which had answers, the boy must have decided to pretend nothing had happened. The trouble was, in a few weeks, probably after his inception into the Watch, the truth would most definitely catch up with him.

Even though Lord Tarly did not care much about the son he had condemned to the Night's Watch, there was no way the Lord of Horn Hill would overlook the failure of his men to return after the boy's arrival.

Benjen had now made his way slowly to where the imp and his champion were standing and, bending down, the tall Night's Watchman snatched the purse from him.

"Just making sure this Lannister pays his debts," he said with an almost boyish smile.

I was not used to seeing Benjen Stark this chill... well, I was not used to seeing much of the man anyway, but what I was seeing was nothing like what I was familiar with, especially given the fact that he too, like his entire household, loathed the Lannisters. He now turned and gave a scrutinizing look before asking,

"Ser... are you sure you can't settle this without combat?"

For the first time, I cast my head down.

Why were my plans crashing at this rate? I had just walked in here hoping to solve a situation that was already glaring at me... for a while, even I had thought that all the cards were in my hand. Now, here I stood faced with two more dilemmas.

You see, due to the cover and the underdog card I planned to execute in the Watch, I could not show my prowess before three people who would be a constant part of that life. If I beat a soldier... a captain to be precise, that card would blow up and with it the rest of the plan. On the other hand, simply cowering away was a notion that was so strange in my Dracula existence. It was a possibility that simply did not exist in my mind.

pat reon/realmsinus