Viking Tales Part.3

Ying agonizingly opened his left eye, his right one would not open. From the pain he felt on that side of his face, he was sure it was totally swollen shut or worse. His arms ached madly. Manacles firmly set into the wall strung him up by his wrists. The tips of his feet barely touched the polished hardwood floor beneath him. Blood from cuts on his wrists where the metal manacles bit into his flesh ran in slow rivulets down his forearms. Turning his head slowly from left to right, he took in as much of the room as possible. He was in a large dining hall of some kind. Directly in front of him was a huge dining table. Ornate silverware and plates made of electrum, worth a small fortune, were placed precisely at each of the eight intricately carved chairs. Goblets of pure platinum laced with gems of all sorts were also placed at each setting.

A large cupboard, made of what looked like polishes mahogany, stood against the wall to his left. Two huge rot iron braziers stood in opposing corners of the room, further helped to illuminate the room. A large detailed mural of a dragon dining on a hapless victim hung on the wall to his right, and directly beyond that a lone door led out of the room. Seated at the far end of the dining table was an exquisitely dressed man. The man wore statesmen type garb. Black straight-legged pants and a ruffled white shirt. His feet were propped up on the table; his black leather boots were immaculately polished. He seemed to be cleaning his fingernails with one of the knives from the table settings, whistling a dreary little tune.

As Ying's mind started to clear, pain rushed at him from the pounding in his ribs. He remembered the fight with the giant Viking. The sound his ribs made when that accursed hammer slammed through his protection spell. He winced as he remembered the vicious knife wound. Staring down at his gut he could see someone had dressed the wound. A small spot of blood could be seen seeping through the bandages, but he didn't think it was life threatening. He was still alive, and as long as he lived there was hope. He would meet up with the vile barbarian who stabbed him sooner or later, and when he did, no power on earth would stop him from rending the man limb from limb.

"Ahhh I see my guest has finally awoke." Ying raised his head and stared at the man in front of him.

"I thought you would sleep a life time away." Slowly raising one of the ornate goblets to his lips the man too a deep drink, then smiled at Ying. The man's lips were stained crimson from the red liquid in the glass. A small line of the thick drink ran from the corner of his mouth to his chin. Although young, Ying was well versed in the arcane. In his studies Ying had many times come across creatures like this one. It was so obvious to him what this man really was. The creatures pale complexion, the long delicate features of his face and hands, the almost hypnotic quality of his eyes. There were many names for his kind; Nosferatu, child of darkness, blood fiend. But he knew him by the most common term, Vampire.

Ying immediately dropped his gaze from the man's face to the ruffles on his shirt. He knew of the vampire's tricks. He knew they had the ability to cloud and confuse minds with a simple stare. He didn't know if the creatures tricks would work on him or not, but he wasn't willing to test that right now. In his weakened condition he was no match for this man. He honestly didn't know if he was a match for him even at full strength. He had never faced a vampire in combat, and was in no shape to try at the moment. Diplomacy was the key to his survival here.

"I thank you for bandaging my wounds, and for taking such steps to insure my comfort." He shook his fists in obvious sarcasm, causing the chains on the manacles to bang against the wall.

"Well I wouldn't want such an honored guest to thrash around and reopen such a grievous wound now would I?" The lord of the manor intoned, keeping the theme of levity between the men.

"By the way, thank you for this." The man slowly lifted his goblet in a mock toast. "It's been quite awhile since I've feasted so well."

Ying hid his revulsion. The thought that this fiend had drained his blood while he was unconscious was horrible. But showing weakness to a creature like this could prove his undoing. Instead, Ying concentrated on summoning up his reserve of magical energy. That way he could judge just how bad this situation was. It was worse than he could have imagined. He could summon no magic. Its as if all of the incantations he had ever learned were now lost. The sensation of the swelling as the magic rose up in him that he had so come to love was gone. For a brief second panic over came him. He thrashed against the bonds, trying foolishly to yank the chains from the wall. After a few seconds he stopped. Gasping for breath as his broken ribs pressed against his lungs.

"Something wrong friend?" The vampire smiled. "I should have told you earlier. The manacles that bind you drain magic. Anyone bound by them are helpless to cast spells. Oh yes, they are also unbreakable."

Ying realized he was in trouble. He was helpless and at the whim of a monster that he couldn't possibly fight. "What do you want of me...Lord McNeil" Ying paused on the last part; this was obviously hard for him to say.

Lord McNeil paused for a moment, as if he were gathering his thoughts. "First, let me tell you a story I think you'll find quite interesting. In a land named Wallachia, there was a price named Vlad. Now Vlad wasn't your normal prince. You see Price Vlad sold his soul to demons in exchange for eternal life. Now being a scholarly gentleman, ill assume you know the particulars of this story. And if you do not, they really have little bearing on the rest of my tale. You see I was one of Prince Vlad's most trusted officers. We ruled his small province with an iron hand. As a gift to his most trusted advisors, Vlad took our mortal lives from us, and granted us life eternal. With it came great power, and we ruled his lands for centuries."

McNeil paused for a moment, obviously in deep reflection. "Then one day a powerful Turkish noble over ran Wallachia and butchered my Prince. How this was done was never made clear to me, for I believed my Prince to be immortal. Needless to say myself and the other nobles fled to our nearby manor houses. Eventually the Turks moved on, leaving Wallachia in disarray and without a leader. Unlike my fellow nobles, I had no ambitions to regain my Princes crown. I was content to live out my existence in the seclusion of my home, studying the Necromantic arts. For you see, I too am a sorcerer. Even before my Prince embraced me, I was thought of as a powerful Necromancer." Lord McNeil stood slowly, setting the goblet on the table. "With centuries to perfect my arts, I was able to accomplish things no other Necromancer could do. I had legions of the undead to do my bidding. One day I had a visitor. The Grand Vizier for the King of the Turks was a powerful wizard named Idometerius. He was the most powerful wizard ever known, but it was also common knowledge that he was quite mad. A few years before he visited me, he lost his wife and newborn child to a rare disease. No doctors or wizards could cure them in time. After that day he was never the same. Apparently he heard I was accomplished in Necromancy, and sought me out. He demanded that I bring his wife and child back to him. Even with my considerable powers, raising the dead back to life was beyond me, and mayhap-impossible altogether. After telling him this, he flew into a rage, claiming that I was lying to him. He believed I deceived him for some reason, and unleashed his magical fury upon me. Now I am no common whelp to be smacked like a dog, but before his might, even I paled in comparison."

McNeil slowly approached the bound sorcerer, more gliding than walking. Ying cringed as he approached. He could feel an aura of coldness generating from this creature that made his skin crawl. Lord McNeil stopped, just inches from Ying's face. "He wasn't content to simply destroy me, or he wasn't able to, I am not sure which. Instead he tore my mansion and all of the grounds surrounding it right from its foundation. Then he sent me hurling through the void. And here I have been. But my library in this house is quite extensive. I have spent the last few centuries in study, trying to find a way to return myself to the prime material plan of existence. This spell has so far eluded me. But this place acts as a magnet of sorts. Sometimes, when spells go awry, or some new novice spell caster messes up, they end up here."

Suddenly it all made sense. Ying remembered when the Viking hit him. He hadn't quite finished his teleportation spell. This must have been the result. Suddenly Lord McNeil grabbed Ying's face in both hands, and forced his head up. Instinctively Ying met the man's eyes, to his deep regret. Within seconds the already weakened man was totally enthralled by the vampires gaze. "But now that you're here sorcerer, that will all change" McNeil purred. "You can take me home cant you boy?"

"Yes" Ying answered weakly.

"Good; very good indeed". Lord McNeil's laughter reverberated down the corridors of the old house.

To be continued...