"So his majesty has returned, guess his declaration of love was not well received?" I joked, being far enough from my sire, that he couldn't hear me.

"I bet she would rather die then marry him." Sig added.

"Not exactly husband material." I commented, turning back to our tent.

With Drelem and his entourage back, the siege should follow soon. I wondered for the hundredth time if I should just bail on this stupid battle. I mean we all knew what this was. Most nobles thought we sellswords were brainless killers. I mean some do fit in that category, but not us.

It was a sore point in this campaign. I could see the baroness' point of view, I mean her brother was being unreasonable. Your sister doesn't want to marry, so you send an army led by her future husband? Sometimes I think nobles are just a completely different species.

"So we are going to attack tomorrow night." Edmund asked with a gleam in his eye.

This one had no moral quandaries to deal with. He was only concerned with where to plant his axe, how much coin he would get and where is the nearest brothel.

Oddly I heard from some of the local whores that he was quite a gentle lover. The moment I heard that from a rather well-satisfied working girl, I nearly didn't believe her.

"It appears so my titanic friend. His grace has decreed a time limit on his proposal." I explained sarcastically.

"Proposal, yeah I heard we are going to war for a woman. I don't understand why he doesn't just get himself some pretty peasant girl. It would not be the first time and won't be the last." Edmund wondered, trying to fathom the mind of an aristocrat.

"The nobles do what they will, its all about appearances and if they need a war to save face, then so be it." Sig explained, granting ancient wisdom like a sage.

"Bad for the barony, good for our purse." Edmund grinned.

I sighed, not wanting to advance the conversation, but felt it needed to be said.

"I agree it is financially advantageous. But do we seriously have to fight in a war, solely because a baroness doesn't want to get hitched. I mean surely there are better wars to fight in?" I shrugged, putting the point out there.

Sig nodded, accepting the point. "I agree it is not ideal. But if we avoided every war for petty reasons, we would be out of job." He landed a verbal blow and smote me soundly.

"Exactly, all these wars are petty. Once you stop asking the why and just get paid, Life gets a lot easier." The lug head unloaded his own wisdom.

I shook my head at the absurdity of my life. Once I was a respected soldier in the earl's army. Now I'm a bloodsucking undead mercenary having moral dilemmas over what war I should fight in.

"Alright enough of this, I have a meeting you get to." I said farewell and left to attend the meeting of the dark council.

I laughed at the fact that was actually their name. I swear upon all the gods, young and old, that is what they named it.

It didn't take long to reach the tent, it was the gaudy one on the right. Tall frame draped in decorative fabric for the birds to shit on. Oh look, they are making art right now, I cheered them on.

Entering the tent without question, I found myself surrounded by the undead. This formal vampire council was a joke I had to attend despite being unwelcome at this little court. But when a vampire lord demands tradition be maintained, all the children listen.

"Glad you showed up." The bald pale fellow to my left said.

This muscle-bound vampire was one of Lord Drelem's chief enforcers. From what I could recall, he was once an underground pit fighter Drelem purchased a few years ago and turned.

He was one of the few vampires I could tolerate. Not that we were friends, of course, he was just all serious and didn't participate in the petty games his siblings did.

"Good evening Titus, how have you been?" I greeted amicably.

His name was rather unique, I was not sure where it came from. And being a man of few words, he never specified.

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"I am well." He replied in that neutral baritone voice.

I accepted the fact that I wasn't going to get a life story and quickly maneuvered around him and made my way to the corner. Leaning against a side post, I tried to make myself inconspicuous as the rest of the council filed in.

The pompous crowd of leeches sneered at me as they passed. And yet Sven was particularly smug as he crossed my path. Instead of passing by, he stopped just in front of me. He tried to look down on me, but our relative heights precluded that.

Looking at me like something to scrap off a boot, he clicked his tongue and spat his next words. "You thought you could keep her from me. But I am no fool, she will never be yours." He declared angrily.

I was confused for only a moment, the idea of some unspecified female not being mine was something I couldn't grasp. A second later it clicked and a sinking feeling welled up in my gut. I actually didn't know vampires could feel that.

"What are you talking about?" I questioned, pushing back.

"She is mine now, forever. You sought to keep her from me, but no longer will she stray from my embrace." He spoke in that flowery language other vampires were adapting. It sounded like the stuff destitute poets would peddle.

"Can you talk normally or has that become a permanent verbal tick?" I asked cheekily.

"Your words mean nothing fledgling. I have won, she is mine forever." He repeated, I think he had a one-track mind.

"I wasn't even aware we were playing. Do you mind spelling it out, I'm not following your crazy ravings." I was getting impatient, tired of this pointless rhetoric.

"Jessica is mine, I granted her the sacred gift of my blood." He proclaimed proudly.

The room went silent, even the vampires that generally sided with this maggot were speechless. Even a lowly vampire like myself new the significance of this. But that didn't seem to matter right now.

Sven just declared, rather smugly to have turned that rather pleasant woman into a vampire. The shock was immediate and striking, the blow upon my chest was direct and to the point.

I didn't know the specifics, abyssal sake I barely knew the woman. She was just a camp follower, a working girl making the rounds and ended up in the clutches of this worthless stain. No wonder she wanted to leave with his sight upon her.

I didn't know her, but I did know Sven. And I know she feared him, so any turning would not have been consensual. The bastard wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Oh maybe she agreed out of fear, but that is just worse.

Heat burned in my chest, in stark contrast to my heatless body. That smug face glared at me triumphantly like he won a victory in a war I wasn't even participating in.

Before I could stop myself, I launched at him. All thoughts of my surroundings blurred into a single desire. I am going to kill this foppish little vampire prick.

He barely even registered my approach. Delivering several punches to his chest and face, I knocked him down in seconds. Once prone I descended upon him, fangs bared and rained down punches. My right arm descended again and again as I tried to disfigure his smug face.

"I should kill you!" I shouted, this was a long time in the making.

Everything this vile worm put me through after becoming a vampire just boiled to the surface. This latest vile act of his just served as the spark to kindling. I could feel his bones breaking under my fist. It tried to knit back together, only to be broken again.

Suddenly a strong force held me back. It gripped my arm and flung me across the room with ease. I slammed into a nearby post and nearly brought down the tent. Luckily the place was well constructed.

Furiously I ascended, ready to sink my fangs into whomever dared try. It was Titus, grim-faced and ready in a fighting stance. Unarmed I knew I couldn't beat him. Unlike that pathetic wretch on the ground, Titus was a trained fighter and far older than I.

"Don't try it, I would hate to snap your neck." Titus threatened, unworried about me as an opponent.

"What is this ruckus?" The voice I was dreading shouted indignantly.

"This beast attacked me, unprovoked!" Sven barked like a whipped dog.

Lord Drelem entered the tent, his dutiful daughter trailing behind him. He glared at the assembled vampires, like a disappointed father.

"Is that true Erik? Did you attack your brother so savagely?" He demanded of me, knowing full well I did.

"My brother as you call him, turned someone against her will!" I spat those words like they were poison.

Instead of beating me down for my insolence, my sire expressed shock. His gaze lingered upon me before striking Sven like a knife. "Is this true?" That is all he asked.

"My lord." He stuttered. "I merely claimed my right to a mistress." Pleading he made his case to a madman.

The backhanded strike was brutal, Drelem laid him out with a single swing of his fist. "Get up!" He demanded and when the vampire could not rise, he took him by the neck and rose him in the air.

"The blood is sacred, to grant it without permission is the height of disobedience. You will be punished for this!" Shaking his head, he tossed Sven to the feet of his daughter. "Punish him, my daughter." That is all he said before turning to me.

"He may have defied me, but it is not your right to punish. So it is only fair you receive the same treatment." He cast an eye on his main enforcer. "Titus, take this one to somewhere quiet and ensure every blow he struck is struck in turn."

Titus bowed and just as he rose to face me, there was no gleam of anticipation, nor excitement. He just had a grim determination to work his master's will. Before I could say a thing, the vampire launched himself at me, grabbed me by the neck and pulled me from the tent.

What followed as a blur of speed, I have no doubt we scared the shit out of some mercs. Finally, the dizzying speed ended and I was unceremoniously dumped on the grass.

Quickly I ascended, ready for a fight. Instead of a mad bull ready to crush, Titus stood over me, looming like death itself. "Will you fight or flee?" He asked without preamble.

I sneered, trying to keep my fangs in check, but could not get them under control. "Fight of course." I declared, not showing a lick of fear.

"I was hoping you were going to say that." He said, rolling up his sleeves.