T.S. Church - Runescape: Legacy of Blood

We shouldnt be here.

Garrth ignored the speaker and stepped from the shadows of the castles high walls. Above himfar abovethe early evening sky seemed a dull reflection of the realm below, mirroring the morbid cityscape with all its gray shades of despair and poverty.

He took another step, but this time his servants strong hand clamped down on his arm.

My lord, it is dangerous. Even for you. The older man glanced around nervously. The other lords of Morytania might not know you. Or if they do, they might not care.

Whats more, he continued, his voice lower, she may be there. He tightened his grip. If the Mistress of Darkmeyer is there then it wont be safe for anyone.

Remove your hand, Georgi, Garrth replied firmly. I need to see for myself.

Their eyes met.

But if something happens to you, my lord, its your father to whom I will answer, the elderly werewolf protested. The ghettos inhabitants will already have been rounded up. In the passion of the tithe, the Vyrewatch might mistake you for one of the humans. And if Vanescula comes to feed...

The hand remained, and Garrth saw fear in his servants expressionfear that made him bold.

I am no ordinary citizen of Canifis, he said, baring his teeth. I have in me the blood of kings. Vanescula will know that, too.

Besides, he added, am I not her newest entertainment?

He felt Georgis hand relax. With a sigh, the white-haired man lowered it.

And you shouldnt worry about my father, either. Somehow, I think he wants me to experience this. Garrth smiled bitterly. Most likely he thinks it will make me stronger.

Georgi shook his head and his craggy, narrow face softened.

And what of your mother, Garrth? he whispered. When you were a newborn here, she made me promise to protect you as best I could if ever you returned to Castle Drakan.

Then I will not ask you to break your promise, Georgi. If you want to honor her memory then you can still protect me. But not from Tenebra, nor from Vanescula. You must protect me from myself, from what I might become if I take an innocent life.

Go home, Georgi, he said, sighing. Then he spoke firmly. I command it. Garrth turned quickly and stepped away, following the path that led from the castle toward Meiyerditchs widespread ghettoes. As he walked he removed his right glove and reached to the inside pocket of his fine coat. The tips of his fingers found what he soughta clipping of human hair, tied with a string, taken in secret.

Where are you now, Kara? he thought. And what must you think of me?

Such thoughts ended abruptly as he approached an immense gate set in black stone. His keen eyes, to which natural darkness was no veil, picked out the small postern door on the gates right side.

Reaching deeper into his pocket he seized a single key, which he had begged from his father only the day before. He had thought it would have been laden with conditions, or denied him altogether. But Tenebra had handed it to him with just an enigmatic smile.

Still wondering at his fathers motives, Garrth unlocked the postern door and stepped into the darkness that lay beyond.

The stench of the ghetto affected Garrth more than its sights and sounds. In such a place as this, he realized, his inhuman senses worked against him.

I cannot so easily pretend I am apart from them, he thought. Away from the misery and despair.

He shook his head and forced his way on, past black buildings to his right and left, each several stories high. They stretched away until his gaze was interrupted by another immense black stone wall to the south. Although he couldnt see them, he knew there were other walls to the east and west. The streets reminded him of rabbit warrens, or pathways for cattle.

Cattle to provide the vampires with their blood tithes.

Garrth glanced up to the dark heights above, and as he watched a winged figure suddenly darted across his view, flying south.

He blinked, thinking that he might have imagined it.

But two more man-sized figures followed in the path of the first. Soon, he knew, the tithe would begin.

Im sorry, Kara.

He gritted his teeth and snarled angrily, his left fist clenching with a strength that made the leather glove squeal.

A startled cry, so faint that it would have been missed by any human, made him instantly alert. His gaze shot to the left and his black eyes opened wide, easily penetrating the darkness of a nearby alley.

It was a young girlalone, barefoot, and dressed in rags.

He took a step closer, and entered the narrow passageway.

As he did so, the girl scrambled away from him, her breathing quick and her eyes terrified. Her ribs showed under the rags, and her thin arms spoke of desperate hunger.

She is probably eight or nine, he realized with sudden clarity. About the same age as Kara was when Sulla slew her family.

From the south, Garrth felt a warm breeze caress his clean-shaven face, too weak to stir his long coat but powerful enough to stir his appetite.

The wind carries with it a flavor I know too well.

You must hide, he gritted urgently. Now. They will be coming.

Boxed into a corner, the girl didnt move.

Do you understand me? he asked. Others of your people have understood my words. Do you?

Now the breeze picked up, and the scent grew stronger. He felt his mouth grow dry and his stomach ached. The breeze became a wind, and his long coat whipped behind him. As he turned he could hear the screams carried on its growing violence.