The next soldier managed to draw his sword and charged at me with a wordless roar. I toyed with him for a while, laughing and ducking and bobbing and weaving as I dodged his clumsy thrusts and slashes. After a while, I tired of this, though, and darted past his guard and plunged Grave Oath into the side of his neck. As the enchanted blade sucked the soul out of his convulsing body, Elyse walked over to the manager, who was standing with his jaw hanging wide open with shock and his eyes almost popping out of their sockets.
“Grast,” she said, “it’s good to see you.”
“Elyse!” he gasped. “You’re alive!” He rushed over to her on his stumpy legs and threw his arms around her in a tight hug.
“Praise the Lord of Light!” he exclaimed. “You’ve come just in time. Bishop Nabu’s tyranny and evil knows no bounds. Look what he’s done here: these workers have been enslaved, I’ve been tortured, and his thug soldiers rule this vineyard with whips and wanton brutality. We need you back, Elyse. We need a noble bishop. We need you back in the cathedral. Life under Nabu has been—it’s been hell, really. I can’t think of any other way to describe it.”
“Well, that’s exactly why I’ve come, Grast,” she said. “To take back what is rightfully mine and to restore peace and justice to Erst. And my new friends—Vance Chauzec, Lord of Brakith, and the enjarta Rami of Yeng—are going to help me. But to get to Nabu, we need your help, too.”
Elyse proceeded to explain her plan with the vineyard manager’s wagon, and as she did, a smile began to break across his face. He didn’t even seem fazed by the fact that there’d be a bunch of skeletons and an undead man-eating lizard in the wagon.
“If it means the death of that evil bastard Nabu,” he said, “I’ll do whatever you want me to. I’ll even drive the wagon myself; that way, the guards at the cathedral won’t inspect the contents.”
“Oh, thank you, Grast!” Elyse gave him a big hug.
“All right, let’s go,” he said. “I assume you heard what the soldiers said? Nabu is expecting a shipment before midnight. If we set off within the next half hour, we should make it.”
We helped the laborers unload the wagon and then got ourselves and the skeletons in. Getting Fang to climb on board proved to be a little tricky. He seemed to be developing a bit of a will of his own and didn’t particularly fancy stuffing himself into a cramped space. But he was a loyal beast too, and with some insistence, I persuaded him to get in.
I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he saw what he had been delivered instead of his precious barrels of wine.
Chapter Nine
The wagon ride felt pretty tame after spending the whole day on Fang’s back, counterbalancing his swaying, nauseating gait. It had been a fun ride, for sure, and I almost missed it, but I didn’t think Elyse did. I’d seen her face turning green at times on Fang’s back, when he raced over particularly rough stretches, with uneven, loose rocks or grass-covered holes. Now, on the wagon, we were rolling along at a slow, steady pace, and Elyse was looking pretty relieved. She sat next to Rami, the two of them sitting just behind me and Grast, who was driving.
We didn’t talk much at first, but suddenly, Grast passed me his wineskin.
“Something to wet your whistle for the journey, Soultaker?” he asked with a kindly smile. Grast, it turned out, had heard of me. My reputation had been growing in leaps and bounds in recent times.
“Sure, thanks. And you can call me ‘Vance.’”
I took the wineskin and slugged back a mouthful of what I had assumed would have been wine. Instead, it felt as if I had taken a mouthful of liquid fire. It burned its way down, leaving reminders of its passing down the length of my gullet. Grast watched with an amused grin on his lips and glee sparkling in his eyes.
“Careful there, my friend,” he said as he took the wineskin back. “This Yorish brandy is strong stuff!”
I nodded, tight-lipped, trying to shake off the odd feeling that the liquor would burn its way out of my stomach and spread dragonfire over all my organs. Eventually, I coughed and spoke, my voice raspy.
“Uh, yeah, I’m no stranger to Yorish brandy, Grast. You could have told me that’s what was in your wineskin before handing it to me, though!”
He roared with laughter and clapped me heartily on my back.
“I only didn’t tell ‘cause I knew you could handle it, Soul—ahem, sorry—Vance. After all, a man who’s fought three vampires simultaneously and killed ‘em all should be able to handle a mouthful of Yorish brandy, shouldn’t he? And, um… you really did that, right? Fought three vampires at once, yeah?”
I wiped my burning lips with the back of my hand and nodded. “Yeah, I did. And it wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you that.”
“I don’t expect it was. Even the most seasoned warriors would have trouble with a single vampire, let alone three. Me, I’d be running for the bloody hills if I even heard a rumor about a vampire being nearby!” He laughed.
I chuckled back. “Once you get the hang of fighting ‘em, it’s not so tough. Not that I’d deliberately go around looking to fight multiple vampires at once, mind you. But I’m sure I could hold my own against a bunch of ‘em again, if it came down to it.” I thought about my undead hiding
