Vampires of the Eight, page 8
part #1 of Vampires of the Eight Series
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because if they dare lay a hand upon my family, they will suffer greatly, and they know that,” Clayton said as he watched his sons disappear.
Grady put out a hand to stop Markus. They were in a wooded area that was protected by smellers, but not of their tribes. He looked down at a plant.
“Quickly, grab that plant and smear it on your skin!”
“Why? What plant?”
“I know our smell comes from within, but we can mask the scent of the sweet peas a little to confuse them. This particular variety is called Matucana, and it’s very potent.”
“How do you know so much about plants and herbs? You’re a vampire!” Markus said as he quickly grabbed the purple and blue/green leaves and rubbed them against his skin.
“Be quiet, Markus, or you’ll give away our position!”
Markus looked at his brother. “But isn’t that the whole point of this venture? We want them to see us so we can have the dialogue.”
“I would prefer to consume human blood first before speaking with the tribal leaders.”
Markus heard ruffling of the tall grass. He looked up and saw a scouting party of three vampires coming from one direction and three more coming from another direction. “It’s too late for that.”
Grady had heard it too. Both stood up in the field.
The six vampires surrounded them. Even adequately fed, Grady knew there was no way he and Markus would be able to defeat that many.
A tall rugged-looking female vampire spoke first. “And who might you two be?” She sniffed the air. “Rubbing the Matucana plant to hide your sweet-smelling blood? A good tactic for someone about to attack!”
“We come here to deliver a message to Sol the Mediator and Maryl the Seeker,” Markus said hurriedly.
“Then why douse yourself to try to hide your scent?” The tall, rugged vampire inquired with no trace of friendliness.
“We wanted to feed before speaking with your tribal leaders,” Markus blurted out.
“Markus, shut up and let me do the talking!” Grady snarled.
“That can be viewed as an act of war between our different tribes,” another vampire uttered with contempt.
“No, it’s not. My brother Markus Cole and I, Grady Cole, were sent here to deliver a message.”
The big, rugged vampire’s eyebrows rose. “I am familiar with your family name. Why send the both of you and not Clayton himself or Tabatha?”
“My father opted to send us; we know not why,” Grady stated plainly.
“I don’t believe you,” she said simply.
“It’s the truth,” Grady said with as much confidence as he could assemble.
“Give us the message, and we will confer with the two leaders,” another vampire stated.
“No! We were given specific instructions to speak with only Sol and Maryl.”
“I don’t trust these two, Ariel! Let’s kill them!” a vampire said to the tall, rough one.
Markus met Ariel’s eyes and was reasonably confident they would perish.
“You don’t want to do that,” Grady responded instantly.
Ariel put her hand on Grady’s head and started stroking his long dark hair. “Oh? And why is that, Grady of the sweet-smellers?”
“Because we’re Clayton’s…”
Ariel grabbed a chunk and pulled on Grady’s long hair tightly. “I said, I know who your family is. Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t kill you right here and now?”
Grady’s head faced the sky as he felt the pull on his hair tighten. “We come in peace and have to speak to Sol and Maryl only. Do you really want to feel my father’s wrath, along with my entire tribes? Killing Clayton’s children and Tabatha's grandchildren is the same as taking your own life!” Grady countered.
Silence engulfed the group.
“He speaks the truth, Ariel! Let them pass, and we will escort them,” one of the vampires said with reservation. “I, for one, do not want to risk the ire of the Cole clan.”
Ariel put her long arms on her hips and looked at Grady and Markus for several seconds. “Okay, but I will take rear guard in case more of them are nearby, and this is just a ruse for a full-scale incursion.”
They were tied up and bound. The ropes dug into their skin. Grady knew as soon as he and Markus consumed some human blood, the rope burns would vanish despite not feeling any pain.
They walked several kilometers through trees, large bushes, and plenty of grasslands. Grady noticed there was a lack of crop fields. He wondered what sort of occupations the other smellers did.
After a clearing, they came upon dwellings that varied in size. They were led to one of the larger homes. Grady could see smoke coming from a chimney nearby.
The whole village of the vampires came out of their abodes and stared.
He sniffed the air and found it repugnant. He almost vomited. Grady looked at Markus, who was throwing up human food.
“Why the sour look, Grady of the Cole Tribe?” The tall woman asked with amusement.
“What are you cooking? It smells disgusting! I thought you other types didn’t like human food?”
“We don’t. We loathe it. We are not cooking human food. We are making something your blood types don’t like.”
“Wait… you purposely produced smells that we can’t stand? What for?” After his last sentence, Grady felt the need to throw up. He looked around and threw up beside Markus.
“In case we ever had to protect our villages from the likes of your kind!” Ariel sniffed the air and smiled. “I find the smell rather pleasant.”
Grady had nothing left to regurgitate. The dry heaves were worse. He wondered if he was at full strength if the stench would cause so much displeasure.
They were led away from the horrendous smell through some trees until one lone house sat in the middle of a field.
“Sol the Mediator and Maryl, the Seeker, are in that house and agreed to see you both. Consider yourselves lucky. This is as far as we are allowed to go. Go to the house and knock,” Ariel said before turning around.
“We need to tell our tribes about their new stench smelling weapon they have invented, Grady!” Markus whispered harshly.
“Hush, Markus! They can hear you!”
They walked hesitantly to the house and knocked.
A smaller man answered the door. Despite his diminutive size, he radiated raw power. Grady could see a few strands of grey hair, which surprised him. He was told vampires were immortal.
“Sit down,” Sol commanded.
“Don’t be so rude to our guests, Sol,” Maryl said as she patted the couch next to the chairs she and Sol sat. Her hair was cut short, which emphasized her soft features. Grady doubted there was anything soft about Maryl.
Grady and Markus walked to the sofa with downcast eyes and sat down. Their tentativeness spoke volumes to the rulers.
“What can we do for the emissaries of the Cole tribe?” Maryl asked in amusement.
“We’re not emissaries,” Markus stated firmly.
“Do you not represent the Cole tribe?” Maryl said with enjoyment.
“Yes, we do,” Grady said as he looked at Markus to keep quiet. “His vocabulary is lacking.”
“Ah, nothing is better than a good education, save for the art of combat,” Sol remarked.
“Why are you here?” Maryl asked simply.
“We have a message from the council of the A and B tribes,” Grady said slowly.
Silence followed.
Maryl put her fingers to her lips in contemplation. “And what is the message, young one?”
“We’re nearly two hundred and fifty years old!” Markus remarked.
“Markus, would you please shut up so I can deliver the message? They don’t care how old we are!”
Markus fumed but did not respond.
“The council members request a meeting with both of you,” Grady said with more confidence than he felt.
“Where do they wish us to meet?” Maryl asked as she took a glass of red nourishment and took a sip.
“In a week by the trees that bend to the ground.”
“And what is the nature of the meeting?” Sol demanded.
“We do not know because we were not told,” Grady said respectfully.
“Why not?” Sol asked with force.
“We are not privy to such information.”
“And why aren’t you in the know?” Maryl asked with a mounting smile.
Grady looked at Maryl. “Because we are only emissaries, as you stated. We are not on the council. We just do their bidding.”
Sol pointed to Grady. “He’s the smart one of the two.” He looked at Markus. “And you? You are not. So tell me, Markus, do you know the true nature of why the elders seek a meeting?”
“I do not know. I know as much as my brother,” Markus said as his lips quivered.
“Yet the sweat that drips from your upper lip tells me otherwise,” Sol said mockingly.
Grady regretted bringing his brother. He did not have the spine for these types of discussions. He wished he would have asked the council to go alone.
“I do not know, I so swear it,” Markus stated with confidence he did not feel.
Sol went to the couch and knelt on the floor in front of Markus. He placed a firm hand on his knee and squeezed tightly. “You so swear it, huh?”
Moisture dripped from Markus’s back down to his pants. “Yes,” he said as Sol continued to apply pressure.
Sol looked sternly at Markus for a moment. Suddenly his sternness turned to a smile. He let go of Markus’s knee. “I’m just kidding with you, Markus. We would love to go and see what the elders want of us. Isn’t that right, Maryl?’
Maryl smiled. “Of course. Give them our best.”
“One more thing,” Grady said as he rose from the couch.
“So, demanding for someone on the enemy's turf, young one,” Sol said with enjoyment.
“What is it, Grady?” Maryl asked politely.
“We need assurances we will not be attacked on our way home.”
Maryl and Sol nodded. Grady and Markus left.
“Gather the council, Maryl. We have a lot of work to do before the week’s end.”
Grady was several kilometers away before he spoke. “Your incompetence is astounding, Markus!”
“I was nervous, Grady!”
“You will be reported to the council about your shortcomings!”
“I thought it would go smoother than it did,” Markus said in despair.
Grady was flabbergasted. “We go into enemy territory, demand to see the elders of the tribes, and you thought it would go easy?”
Markus shrugged. “I thought our name would give us more protection.”
“All the more reason I am going to report you,” Grady snapped. “Don’t assume just because we have the Cole’s name that vampires will open their doors with open arms! What is wrong with you?”
They came to the A and B’s region and sighed with relief.
“I am going to wash up from the well water to get the stench of the flowers and the awful smell coming from their chimney,” Markus said as he walked away.
“Good idea,” he murmured as he opened the front door.
Clayton, Ada, and Tabatha were sitting on the davenport. He reached the couch and sat down in front of them.
The three of them smelled the air and repulsed in unison.
“What is that awful smell?” Clayton asked.
“We rubbed scented flowers to avoid detection to make sure we consumed blood but were quickly apprehended.”
“I recognize the flowery scent, but I am unfamiliar with the other odor,” Tabatha said as she put a hand to her nose.
“I wanted you to smell it because the sour-smelling tribes invented the odor as a restraint or possibly a weapon against us,” Grady said with a heavy heart.
“Let’s go outside before I hurl,” Ada said as she got up and fled the house.
The outdoor air helped them breathe better.
“Apparently, our enemies are actively working on ways to overthrow us,” Clayton remarked with concern.
“I think our arrogance pushed them to the brink,” Ada observed.
“Nonsense Ada!” Tabatha admonished. “We will deal with this setback later.” Tabatha turned to Grady. “Right now, the important thing is to find out the answer to our query.”
“They agreed to meet the Council in one week at your desired location,” Grady replied.
“Good. Hopefully, Sol and Maryl will agree with our proposal.”
“Grandmother, I wish to express the lack of judgment and actions from Markus…”
Tabatha brushed him off with a wave of her hand. “We don’t have time for that, Grady. We must attend to more pressing matters.”
“Such as?” Grady said with impatience.
Tabatha rushed to him. “Don’t you dare question my motives, young man! Do you understand?”
Grady hesitated to respond. He wasn’t expecting such a reaction from his grandmother. For his grandmother to be so abrupt meant all wasn’t well in the Cole tribes or their other related tribes. “I apologize. May I go now?”
“Yes, and see to it you cleanse yourself of that horrid smell!”
Grady nodded before leaving.
“I think we should schedule another council meeting, mother.”
Tabatha bowed. “As you wish, son.” She was about to walk away when she turned to Clayton. “We should have told Grady and Markus the bad news,” Tabatha remarked sadly.
“Would it matter if they knew the King’s army was on the way here to take our lands? Would they have remained calm if they learned his army would be here about the same time as the elders from the other tribes? It would make them worry.”
“They will find out when they see their cousins and friends,” Ada said quietly.
“Let it be so,” Clayton said.
Ada started walking away.
“Where are you going, Ada?”
“I am going to pray,” she said sadly.
“For what?”
“Our tribe’s survival,” she said with gloom.
“You’re being dramatic, wife,” Clayton said with seriousness.
“No, I am not. Think about the three fronts that are almost upon us.”
“I am, but I am confident we will prevail. We always have.”
Ada shook her head. “We have the King’s army coming, the elders coming at the same time, and we aren’t sure if they will help us, and now we learned of a weapon the other tribes have developed to use against us! Take a moment and think about this fact. What have we done in the meantime? Nothing! For centuries we have done nothing! And why is that? Because we have been arrogant and relied incorrectly on our more potent blood, that’s what Clayton!”
Clayton took Ada’s hands. There was a grain of truth in her logic, thought Clayton. “After King George’s army is demolished, we will revisit this conversation, Ada.”
Ada removed herself from Clayton’s grasp. “Let’s hope we survive the ordeal.”
Chapter Eight
The Great Yeomen Purge of 1751
Part Two
The fire in the large circular pit burned bright against the cloudless sky. The pale moon helped with the mood, coupled with the crackling of the wood, mesmerized the onlookers into silence. Each member of all the tribes in the nearby areas was represented. They were seated along the long expanse of the circle.
The tip of the fire reached new heights as Clayton placed more firewood on top of the previous ones.
Each of the eight representatives was seated close together. The outer banks of the circle were housed by the oldest to the youngest.
“Thank you for meeting with us,” Clayton said to Maryl and Sol.
“We were happy to meet with all of you and thank you for allowing our members to this significant meeting,” Sol said solemnly. He looked around. “I don’t see your father, Tarson, Clayton.”
“He is here but is inside. He did not like you being on our soil.”
Sol looked at Clayton but said nothing.
Maryl dipped a thick stick into the fire and moved wood around. Ashes erupted around the perimeter. “Sol and I are incredibly curious about this meeting. Grady and Markus said they did not know what the topic was.”
Some ashes flicked on Clayton’s pants. He absently brushed them away. “We appreciate you coming. We have some important business to discuss.”
“Always to the point, aren’t you, Clayton? Can’t we relax and let the fire’s ember restore the unbalanced vibes I am getting from you?” Maryl said as she smiled her even white teeth.
“I am balanced. My sense of urgency is not made up.”
“All right, Clayton. What is so important?” Maryl said as she put down the stick and looked his way.
Clayton looked at Sol and Maryl, trying to gauge how they would react. “I will come to the point. My six tribes are in trouble, and we need the help of both Sol’s tribe and your tribe, Maryl.”
Maryl and Sol looked at each other. Maryl gave a sly smile. “That surprises me, Clayton. Your six tribes have ruled the lands for quite some time now. The potent bloodline you all have inherited have never needed our small band of bloodsuckers help before, excuse the pun.”
“Times change and opportunities present themselves, even to our rivals,” Tabatha remarked calmly.
“Poor word choice, Tabatha!” Maryl said with uprising anger. “We were never rivals! We always had to submit to your ways, your rules, just because some of your kind can consume blood from every human, and ours cannot!”
“We know the potency of our blood has made some of you hate us,” Clayton said carefully. “But I want to make amends.”
“How and why, after all these centuries?” Sol demanded.
Clayton had not talked with the other tribe leaders about his proposal so desperate he was, but he knew the King’s army was not far. “I propose boundary lines for each of our kind so we can live in peace.”
“What?” Tabatha said out loud. Other tribe leaders followed suit.
Maryl looked around the fire pit. “I take it you did not put forth this proposal with the leaders of the other clans, Clayton?” she said humorously.
