Flags flew for almost a third of a mile.
So many tents, pavilions, and stone built huts, it appeared as a small city. Spikes stood on all sides, palisades behind them, sentries upon the hills overlooking the northern side. Riders, Rorik scouts, patrolled in all directions as early warning.
Last Robyn counted there were at least sixty thousand, forty thousand fireborne and twenty thousand Rorik. Free riders, leaderless warbands, joined every other day or so, but it never seemed to be enough.
"At this rate, we'll be lucky to survive another winter," Robyn said as they rode through the western walls. "Though his majesty's content on nothing less than victory, we've not the supplies, food, weapons, or medicine to last much longer."
"And you're certain you didn't see Larosa?" Dany asked as they dismounted before a large bonfire.
Robyn nodded. "Her skills as a healer are unmatched, some say she's even better than Master Luryon of the Archives."
Nathan sniffed.
Thick mead, stale bread, moldy cheese, shit, blood, and nothing more. Large as the camp was he wouldn't have been surprised if Larosa were hiding within it, for the sake of avoiding one turd faced lord.
He just couldn't imagine her going so far, not with a host of such size to keep her safe.
"I'll have a look around," he said, handing his reins to William.
Robyn cut him off. "I, don't believe that's a good idea…"
Many soldiers looked his way.
Knights approached them, and even with Sir Robyn giving a look of approval, many kept a firm sword hand on blood-stained hilts. Rorik soldiers were more welcoming, waving Nathan and the Embers to their own fire.
Nothing, not even all the Pyr gold, could make him even speak with the pagans of the north.
Yet it was either them or sour faced lads and men making signs of the cross.
His fangs must've grown, he wondered to himself.
'Giant's blood ought to hold me until at least dawn,' he thought, a hand on hid belly.
Were he not a blood cursed monster, the goat roasting within the wulf-bear's camp would've made his mouth water.
With the last Embers, he was greeted by Chief Ivon of the Red Sea, a tall broad shouldered man with a short red beard.
"Soulless lot," Ivon said, shaking Dany's hand, surprised by her strength. "And you, the mad bastard of the Graves."
"Only one mad man within the Graves," Nathan said, shaking Ivon's hand, thinking of his lost brother.
"Aye, well," Ivon said, sitting with them by the fire, "we of the Red Sea respect all warriors, friend or foe, even temporary alliances with firehill rats."
Nathan made a small grin, his fangs protruding.
"That's unnatural!" Ivon said, wide eyed.
He shrugged. "Go on and run. Always figured you lot were all bark with no stones between ya'."
Ivon frowned, scowling him for a moment.
The fiery headed chieftain laughed, waving for a few horns of ale.
So they drank, Nathan forcing the bitter black piss down his throat, wondering what a bite out of any of the wulfs would taste like. He shook away the thought as the hours passed.
Dusk brought about more battalions, all the great houses of the kingdom joining the camp after a days, weeks, or months long journey. Banners with twin white crosses, taurus sigils with crossing war hammers, silver flags with a great redwell, a blue and white striped flag with a sapphire full helm in the center, and the fireborne flag itself.
It really was the war to end all wars, as those families would've skewered each other's newborns if given the chance. Especially the Pyrs, if Carl would've left any of his bastards to live.
Among the incoming fireborne forces was the turd lord himself, a trio of Phoenix Blades close to him.
Nathan tucked his head into his cloak, but it was no use.
Isaac Pyr was already shouting with his brother, and Sir Robyn tried to calm the Pyr cunts with no avail.
"You let him into this camp!" Isaac growled, pointing towards the Rorik bonfires. "A twice disgraced valley runt!"
Gravous led the way, Isaac close behind with a growing smile.
The turd's face was soot covered, rough, heavy in the eyes, and dare Nathan say there was a bit more muscle on him. He'd been fighting, a well forged longsword on his hilt.
Ivon and his men stood to face the towering Phoenix Blade, Gravous a head over all the northmen.
"Maruaudor's not worth the piss I took over a dead mountain elf," Gravous snarled, great axe in hand. "The fuck you think you're doing?"
"The cursed one and his soulless lot are our guests," Ivon snarled back, a crooked smile. "They made short work of the giants this morning."
Gravous laughed. "These children?! Ha! Gods help me, I've not laughed since summers end."
While glaring at the bastard, Nathan removed his hood.
Gravous raised his axe, warning everyone to stand aside. "The cunt's a vampyre! Kill him! Kill him at once, that's an order!"
William stood up to the heartless mercenary. "He's fine, he just needs a healer. The Archive Master, we ne-."
Gravous backhanded the young father, who lost a tooth, slamming into the dirt.
Dany, longsword still in its scabbard kicked Gravous's chest, knocking him several meters back. He plowed over Isaac, though the red haired Phoenix Blade and the other with a bald head side stepped out the way.
Gravous, still on his feet, growled stumbling to recover. "Bitch! I'll ki-."
"You'll spill no blood here," the red-haired Phoenix threatened, helping Isaac up. "Lest you want to be another feather on my hilt."
Nathan examined him, red hair, blood-colored feathers on his hilt.
Isaac cursed at the blood sword. "She raised a hand to one of house Pyrs royal guards, you better skin her right here Paracles! Or I'll hav-."
"You'll what?" Paracles snapped, his sword hand tapping his hilt, then turned to Gravous. "You call yourself a Phoenix? A little boot to the chest slow as molasses catches you off guard?"
Gravous, pissed beyond anything Nathan believed a man could get, cursed beneath his breath, putting away his axe.
Paracles removed his finger from his hilt. "As it is, what bring a soulless, a pubescent priest, and a fresh bitten vampyre to his majesty's camp?"
A crowd was growing, though Robyn was able to turn some away.
William answered for them, rubbing his aching mouth, Dany keeping an arm around him. "As you can see, our friend's been bitten, and he needs medical aid from the Archive Master. We had an apprentice, Larosa of the Friarhorn Valley, with us not long ago, though we sent her ahead with another of our companions."
William told them of Marryvia, the First Sword, and their intentions of aiding with the war effort.
Isaac's face stayed red, though anytime the cunt looked at him there was a sly grin.
"The First Sword?" Paracles wondered, rubbing his chin. "A miracle you're even still alive, and you've my condolences. I knew the iron headed brute, a strong man, but truly a head full of iron. By invoking her wrath, you've given these war-torn hellhole yet another reason to be weary once the day is over."
Dusk was settling.
Many men pulled crosses from beneath their collars, and some made their way to their tents. What few to remain were Isaac and his Phoenix's, discussing what to do with the Embers.
Sir Robyn asked Nathan, "Last we saw Arthur was close by the nests, not more than a few days ago. With any luck, you could find him there."
He was getting thirsty again.
Robyn put a hand on him, and he hissed.
The captain of the white knights drew his longsword, light beaming off the edges. "Dammit! You truly are cursed!"
Isaac spun around, demanding Nathan be skewered at once. "I knew you to be a heathen, lingering with those soulless lot!"
"Please, he's just hungry!" William protested, pulling out his cross-star. "He just needs a little more time, then w-."
"You brought him here to feed!" Isaac said, unsheathing his sword. "Fucking valley rat! You and that cunt apprentice who deserted us!"
Nathan's heart pounded.
In the time it took everyone to blink, except for Paracles, he let Viperess fly from her sheath. In the next blink he was behind Robyn, holding the captain by the neck , Viperess pinned to the white knight's throat.
"Nathan," Robyn stuttered. "What are you doing?"
"Release him," Paracles demanded, holding Dany by her throat. "I'll find wherever you've laid a keep in these lands, and I'll excommunicate it so she awakens somewhere not so wonderful."
Dany spat, "Just breathe Nathan! Fucking breathe!"
Isaac howled with laughter. "Oh this is interesting. A soulless pup and his little soulless harlot."
A hand on Dany's cheek, Isaac smiled, running a finger down her mouth.
The turd lord muttered, "I suppose you came all this way for Larosa? No chance she'd return here, not after all those nasty accusations she made of me."
No matter how much he tried to breathe, he felt his sword hand tighten.
Isaac's very breath was a bog-like stench, something he'd commit to memory.
"Maybe I did have some fun with her," Issac went on, a quick look to Gravous. "As did anyone who serves me well."
Nathan growled.
A slide across Robyn's throat, he opened the white knight's jugulars. Blood ran free, and he licked a few sips.
Paracles slit Dany's throat, and William screamed, dropping his cross-star.
Isaac shouted, he darted straight for the fucker's throat.
Fire engulfed him, Paracles swinging a blazing scimitar. He parried the blood feathered blade, and they exchanged fiery smoke bursting steel. Viperess was long, like a forked tongue, every thrust keeping Paracles out of range.
Yet Nathan wanted him close, just one bite.
He dropped his guard. The Phoenix had to take the bait. Yet Paracles didn't, circling round him as he kept pace.
Nathan growled, a quick glimpse to Gravous, who charged swinging the great axe. He slipped underneath the bastard, but a beaming light from William blinded him.
The young father, chanting in old elvish, cursed him back.
A hot scimitar plunged into his belly. Before he could bite for Paracles' throat, the Phoenix Blade dashed away, warning others to stay back.
"Arrows! Loose your arrows!" Paracles commanded.
On noodle-like legs, Nathan staggered, hissing and swinging Viperess.
Vision stifling, he listened to archers scurry along the palisades, some circling him. Then his stomach sealed shut, he could see clear as night, even beyond the fog, and he sprinted.
In no particular direction, he hurried through the camp, running over and between soldiers.
Arrows flew overhead, whizzing by his ear. At the nearest wall, he scaled over the palisade in a single leap. Once outside the camp, the shadows became alive, vampyres watching him with welcoming eyes.
He cursed, covering his face.
Upon arrows closing in, he spun parrying them, but a few landed in his shoulder and arm.
While dashing away, so fast he lost his vowing ring opposite Larosa's, he sniffed much as he could.
Feed first. Then find her.
It's all he had to do.
Feed first, fight your way to her. Don't become like one of them.
Yet the paladin's voice echoed, as if right beside him.
'Feed now, ye' of our Lady's hand. Feed, for the sake of all kingdoms, who will bear witness to the one true Lord….'
All night he fed, on soldiers, no matter allegiance. Then he began his search…