AS THE FIRE drew closer, Mowbray shouted orders at his men, urging them to work faster. The guardsmen hacked desperately at the trees with their swords, attempting to create a firebreak, but the forest was so thick that their efforts seemed almost laughable.
It was a fool's errand.
The flames raced through the undergrowth, consuming everything in its path. The roar of the fire grew louder with every passing moment, sounding like some monstrous beast bearing down upon them.
Several of Mowbray's men broke rank, overcome by fear.
"Get back here!" Mowbray bellowed.
But they ignored him, desperately trying to reach the relative safety of the village.
Smoke thickened around those who remained, stinging their eyes and burning their throats.
Visibility worsened with every passing second, until the men could scarcely see beyond their noses through the swirling haze.
Mowbray coughed violently, pulling his handkerchief from his sleeve and holding it over his mouth.
"Keep cutting!" he shouted.
Another tree groaned somewhere ahead of them in the smoke.
Then, with a deafening crack, it toppled into the path of the advancing flames.
Mowbray stared into the haze, realizing with growing dread that they had lost control of the forest fire, and somewhere beyond that wall of flame were the vampire and the witch he had sworn to destroy.
"Retreat!" Mowbray bellowed into the void before him, praying that his men could hear him above the growl of the advancing flames.
There was no answer.
Only the deafening roar of the fire.
Mowbray turned and ran blindly through the smoke, one arm raised before his face as he stumbled over roots and fallen branches.
He could barely see more than a few feet ahead of him. His lungs burned with every breath.
He could only pray that he was heading in the right direction, that somewhere beyond the smoke lay the bay and the docks.
Behind him, another tree came crashing down, sending sparks swirling through the air.
Mowbray stumbled, caught himself, and kept running. He dared not look back.
For the first time that night, fear began to overcome his fury. If he could reach the docks, he could still escape.
But if he became lost within the burning forest, there would be no one coming to save him.
For a moment, Mowbray thought he was saved.
He could hear water rushing somewhere ahead and pushed onward through the smoke, convinced he had reached the cliffs overlooking the bawdy houses, where the ocean waves crashed against the rocks below.
But as he emerged from the trees, he realized his mistake.
The sound was not the ocean, it was instead the rushing waters of the river far below.
Mowbray peered over the edge of the dropoff, his blood running cold.
The river churned in the darkness beneath him, far beyond his reach.
He turned slowly, looking back toward the forest, the glow of the flames illuminated the trees behind him, forming an impenetrable wall of fire.
He was trapped.
Cut off from every means of escape.
"Damn the fates!" Mowbray roared, his voice echoing across the river. Then his thoughts turned bitterly toward Johnas.
The fool had filled his head with tales of the demon said to haunt the woodland surrounding the village.
Mowbray had mocked his stories, but had been fool enough to return to this cursed village.
Yet now, standing upon the rock ledge above the river with fire behind him and the rushing waters far below, he pondered if perhaps this had been the vampire's plan all along?
He backed away from the precipice, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword, and for the first time, Mowbray wondered if he had become the hunted, as the witch and vampire stepped out from the flaming trees, standing silently side by side before him, theirs eyes burning as brightly as the fire that surrounded them.
Real fear bloomed in Mowbray's chest for the first time in his adult life. He had fought at his father's side all those long years ago against the vampire scourge, a frightened boy clinging to the knowledge that his father would protect him.
Then as a grown man, Mowbray had faced death in battle more times than he could recall.
He had watched men cut down beside him and had stared death in the face without flinching.
But standing upon the rocky outcropping above the rushing waters, with the flames hemming him in on all sides, he had never felt his own mortality so keenly, as he felt standing in the presence of the vampire he had tortured, and his witch whore who stood before him now.
"Hello again, my friend." Vincent hissed. "It seems the worm has turned wouldn't you say?"
Mowbray held his sword before him, his hand trembling as he waited for the vampire to rush him.
But Vincent remained where he stood.
"Oh no, my friend," he said, his voice eerily calm. "We have something far worse planned for you than the clean death from the stroke of my blade."
Eldra stepped forward.
A ball of fire sprang to life once more between her hands, its glow illuminating her face, causing her already crimson eyes to burn brighter.
Mowbray's gaze shifted from the flames to her face.
"No, have mercy," he pleaded.
"Like the mercy you and your father granted my Maker? I think not. It seems a new player has joined our little game," Vincent said coldly.
Eldra hurled the fire toward the dry brush at Mowbray's feet.
The moment it struck, the brush erupted into flames.
Fire spread rapidly across the ground, encircling him, cutting off any hope he may have had of escaping from the surrounding inferno.
Mowbray stumbled backward towards the edge of the precipices, raising his sword before him as though the blade might somehow shield him from the flames.
Vincent watched impassively.
"I believe that is checkmate," he murmured, reaching for Eldra and drawing her close to his side.
The flames wound their way up Mowbray's body, consuming his flesh with its insatiable hunger.
Mowbray screamed in agony as the fire climbed higher, setting his beard and hair alight. He staggered blindly, swatting desperately at the flames as they engulfed him.
His face twisted beneath the searing heat, then his heel caught upon a root at the outcropping's stony edge sending Mowbray stumbling backward. For one terrible instant, he teetered upon the precipice, then fell, his burning form vanishing over the edge, plunging into the rushing waters below.
A moment later the river swallowed him, carrying him away into the darkness.
Vincent and Eldra stood silently upon the outcropping, watching the place from where Mowbray had been.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Eldra glanced around them, instantly aware of the roaring flames that moved ever closer. She clung tightly to Vincent, fear growing upon her face.
She looked up at him.
Vincent's lips curled into a sly smile. "Did I forget to tell you?" he asked. Eldra narrowed her eyes.
"Tell me what?"
"Ancient vampires can fly." And before she could respond, Vincent swept her into his arms.
Eldra gasped as he ran, then leapt from the edge of the rocky outcropping. Instead of plunging downward toward the raging river, they rose higher as they soared upwards, above the treetops of the all-consuming inferno that spread out beneath them.
Eldra tightened her arms around Vincent's neck. "You might have mentioned this before," she said. Vincent laughed softly.
"I rather enjoyed the surprise." She gave him a sidelong look. "You are maddening."
"And yet," he murmured, drawing her closer as they soared into the smoke filled sky, "you love me."
Eldra smiled despite herself.
"Yes I do, my dark love," she replied, before nestled her head closely against his neck.
* * *
The village men, along with the women who where willing to lend their aid, gathered at the boundary of the fields, working throughout the night to cut firebreaks.
Those children who were old enough formed bucket brigades, passed water from hand to hand to douse any flames that managed to break through the lines.
Mathew thanked the heavens that the wind was with them, driving the fire deeper into the forest toward the river and away from most of the village's main structures.
The smoke hung heavily over the fields, as the orange glow of the remaining embers illuminated the weary faces of those fighting to protect their homes.
To Mathew's surprise even some of Mowbray's men had joined the fight, though few had escaped the flames among Mowbray's garrison.
Robert and Maeve moved among the workers, providing food and drink whenever they could, urging the exhausted men and women to keep faith during their Herculean efforts.
Hour after hour, they fought bravely against the flames.
At last, as the first pale light of dawn began to break above the mountains, the roar of the fire had diminished to little more than the occasional crackle of burning timber.
The villagers stood exhausted, soot-covered and smoke-stained, watching the forest smolder in the distance.
Mathew wiped the sweat and grime from his brow looking toward the rising sun.
They had all survived the night, though his thoughts remained with Eldra and Vincent.
He could only pray that they had survived it as well.
* * *
As they flew over the old couple's cottage, Eldra caught sight of flames beginning to take hold of its thatched roof.
She buried her face deeper against Vincent's chest.
It broke her heart to see the little cottage being consumed by the flames.
It had been their refuge, a place where they had briefly known peace amidst all the danger that surrounded them.
She remembered the nights they had spent there, lying in each other's arms upon the narrow bed, listening to the wind rustling beneath the eaves, and for a fleeting moment, she could almost feel the warmth of those nights again.
Vincent felt her melancholic thoughts through their bond and tightened his arms around her.
'I know my love.'
Eldra lifted her head, watching as the flames swallowed another section of the roof.
'So much has been lost.' Vincent looked down at her.
She wiped away a tear as they continued sailing through the smoke filled night, leaving the memories behind them in the flames.
'Where shall we go now, my little raven?' Vincent looked down at her searching her eyes for an answer.
Eldra lifted her head from his chest as a single thought swept through her mind.
'Johnas.'
Vincent nodded in agreement.
* * *
Vincent settled gently into the street outside Johnas' house, the other houses lining the street stood eerily silent, their occupants having joined the villagers battling the fire raging within the forest.
Smoke swirled through the deserted streets, lending the village an almost ghostly appearance.
The witch and vampire stepped from beneath the cover of darkness just as Johnas emerged from the townhouse.
A small leather valise clutched tightly against his chest. He stopped dead when he saw them.
For a moment, his eyes widened in disbelief.
Vincent and Eldra stood silently before him, their clothes stained and torn from the night's events..
Johnas's face went pale. "You..." he whispered. Eldra stepped forward.
Johnas instinctively backed away, tightening his grip around the valise.
"You were supposed to be dead," he stammered.
Vincent smiled coldly.
"Were you hoping we were?" Vincent hissed, a grim look upon his face. "I believe you will discover it is your friend Mowbray who is dead, consumed by the flames, as you had planned for Eldra."
Eldra stepped closer, her fury rising.
"And now it is your turn to pay the piper, Johnas," she said.
A fireball began to grow between her hands, its flickering light dancing over her countenance.
Terror filled Johnas' eyes as he watched the flame grow.
He looked into Eldra's face, searching for some trace of the frightened healer he had once tormented, finding only hatred.
"Witch!" he cried.
His voice echoed weakly through the empty street.
Johnas frantically glanced about him, searching for anyone who might come to his aid, but the street remained silent.
He made a mad dash into the cover of the smoke that obscured the houses, running through its sheltering shadows.
Every hurried step rang against the cobblestones as his leather boots carried his considerable weight into the night.
He had to make haste to the safety of the Mary Rose before she set sail. Time was running short in more ways than he could comprehend.
Johnas clutched the leather valise tightly against his body as he fled, his breath coming in labored gasps.
Behind him, Eldra and Vincent followed him into the gathering smoke. They did not hurry.
They had no need, the fat man could not outrun them.
Johnas could hear their footsteps somewhere behind him, moving steadily and deliberately, drawing ever closer.
Panic seized him, and he dared not look back. The docks were his only hope now.
If he could reach the Mary Rose, he might yet escape the village, the witch, and the vampire.
But with every step, the sound of the pursuing footsteps grew louder.
Johnas veered sharply from his course, heading toward the cliffs and the sea beyond in the hope of throwing his pursuers off his track.
For a moment, it seemed to have worked.
The footsteps behind him fading into the smoke.
Johnas slowed, gasping for breath as he clutched the leather valise tighter still.
Perhaps he had lost them, he thought.
Perhaps the smoke had finally given him the chance he needed to escape. Then, somewhere within the haze shrouded night, he heard the soft sound of laughter.
Johnas froze.
It was not coming from the smoke filled darkness around him. It was coming from above.
Slowly, dread rising within him, he lifted his eyes toward the heavens. Two figures floated against the smoke choked sky above him.
Vincent and Eldra. Watching him.
Johnas' blood ran cold. The vampire smiled.
"Running somewhere, Johnas?" he called down.
As they alighted before him, Vincent placing Eldra on her feet upon the brown grass of the clifftop, Johnas stumbled backward, releasing the leather valise from his grasp.
"No!" he shouted. "Stay back!"
He retreated toward the edge of the cliff, where the rising smoke shrouded the darkness behind him.
Eldra stepped forward.
The familiar glow of fire began to form within her hand once more.
Johnas' eyes widened in terror.
"Please." He begged, backed away another step. In a blind panic, Johnas turned and fled.
His foot finding nothing but empty air beneath it.
With a terrified cry, he plunged over the edge of the cliff disappearing into the darkness below.
A heartbeat later, the sound of his body landing on the rocks was lost beneath the thunderous crash of the waves.
As the clock in the square rang out the midnight hour in the distance, Eldra stood silently at the precipice, staring down at Johnas broken body upon the rocks, before it was washed out to sea by the crashing waves.
Vincent stepped to her side.
"It seems Johnas has chosen his own fate."
Eldra looked at him, the fire in her hands slowly fading.
" Yes. He was a coward to the bitter end," she murmured in disgust. Vincent slipped an arm around her waist.
"Come, my little raven. There is nothing more for us here." "Wait," she said, picking up the heavy valise from the ground. Inside were thousands of pounds in gold coins.
"A parting gift perhaps?" She looked up at Vincent, and he nodded his head.
"It can not make up for all his sins, but it is a start," he said, taking the heavy valise from Eldra's hands.
Behind them, the smoke continued to rise from the burning forest as they turned away from the cliff and walked silently back toward the village.
* * *
Sitting upon the bench in his forge, Mathew washed the last of the soot from his hands with water from the quench tank.
The ache in his muscles was deep, and exhaustion weighed heavily upon him after his night spent fighting the fire.
Then through the haze that still lingered over the village, he spotted two ragged figures walking toward him along the deserted street.
Those who had toiled through the night to drive back the advancing flames had long since retired to their beds, leaving the village eerily quiet despite the late hour.
Mathew stared for a moment, scarcely able to believe what he was seeing.
"Eldra, Vincent!" he exclaimed as he sprang to his feet.
His heart swelling with relief, Mathew rushed from the forge to meet his friends.
For the first time since the fire had begun, he allowed himself to believe that they had truly survived the night.
Eldra fell exhausted into his massive arms, and Mathew caught her easily.
She noticed the burns running along his forearms from the battle with the flames, and guilt immediately rose within her.
"You were hurt," she murmured. Mathew shook his head. "Never mind that now."
He guided her toward the bench and gently eased her down upon it before turning his attention to Vincent.
Mathew stared at the vampire's bare chest.
Despite the deep scars left by the blessed chains, Vincent's flesh was otherwise remarkably unblemished. The burns and wounds he had suffered during his captivity had already vanished, leaving only the scars as evidence of what he had endured.
Mathew reached out and placed one giant hand against Vincent's chest, his expression filled with astonishment.
"How?" he asked.
Vincent inclined his head toward Eldra, then moved to stand beside her. Mathew recalled the pool of blood he had discovered on the crypt floor and a sudden understanding lit his face.
Then Eldra had saved Vincent from his torment by allowing him to feed upon her, and she in return had drunk from him.
Something in the way they looked at one another told him that what had happened between them had changed them both profoundly.
"What happened to you in the forest?" he asked quietly. Eldra exchanged a glance with Vincent.
For a moment, neither answered.
Then Eldra looked down at her hands, remembering the flames that had consumed the forest, the terrified faces of Mowbray's men, and the final fate of the man who had hunted them.
"There was an ambush," she said lied. Reluctant to admit the truth.
Mathew's brow furrowed. "Mowbray's men?" Vincent nodded.
"Yes."
"And Mowbray?"
A silence fell between them.
Vincent looked toward Eldra, allowing her to answer. She slowly lifted her eyes to Mathew.
"He will trouble us no further." Mathew stared at her.
Something in her expression told him there was far more to the story than she was willing to share.
He decided not to press her.
Instead, he glanced toward the smoke still hanging over the village.
"And Johnas?"
"He will trouble no one ever again." Vincent's expression hardened. Mathew nodded needing no further details.
He was only glade to hear that his friends where out of danger at long last.