Unforgettable

"We don't have much time, Darthog. The sun is setting and you don't know which cottage is hers. Granted this time we are outside her village, but if you manage to pull this off I'll eat my saddle, stirrups included." Jacob Barker turned a good-humored smile to his riding companion, and guided his dappled charger around a gnarled tree branch a recent storm had dislodged and flung into the muddy undergrowth. Some days, especially the last few, both men could sympathize with that rain dampened, lichen riddled chunk of wood. They had traveled such a great distances, seen strange and wonderful things, fought battles fierce and deadly, all in the search of a single treasure. Together they sought a woman of unimaginable power and untapped magical potential. She had lived and loved the life of a noble woman, in a castle over looking lands that stretched verdant and plentiful, and woodlands that nudged against cloudless horizons. Her tenants, loyal still, loved and worshipped her and the paths she walked. Darthog Hammerfist had ridden as her favored knight, his valor and bravery winning her approval, and her heart. He still rode with her lavender scarf in his war geldings scarlet bridle. Strangely the beast refused to leave his paddock with out it.

Darthog smiled at the thought and flicked a skunkfly out of his face.

"Ah, come, now, man, have a little faith. I'll find her. I'm close enough our souls are well aware of one another, and I can even feel her heart beat. Our blood bond trumps that old gypsy hags curse." He spit on the name gypsy, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the word foul and bitter on his tongue.

Jacob merely nodded, turning his friend another good spirited grin. It didn't quite reach his eyes though. He'd always known about Darthog's vampyrism, in fact he'd even grown accustomed to the way his comrade lived, but Barker didn't quite like his sister mentioned in the same breath with it. He owed the man his life, for more than one death defying experience; still he could not find it in himself to understand. He shuddered as several of those stomach curdling adventures sprinted through his mind. He sighed, and then pulled a cloth wrapped hunk of cheese from his saddlebag. No matter how he tried his life always came back to the night he'd realized that his sister had fed a vampyre, and then stupidly fallen in love with a man of the same affliction. That night, even as much as he wished it hadn't happened, had spurred their journey into this strange new land, where his sister had fled under the influence of a spell strong enough to wipe her memory clear of ever moment that meant anything to the three of them. It hurt to know that she no longer knew his name, no longer would come running at the sound of his voice, nor would she be willing to sing to him in the soft lilting voice he'd always adored. He wondered if she did in fact still sing, or if by some sad tragedy she'd forgotten how. It hurt to think about it, so he shook his head and took another bite of cheese, focusing instead on the nutty flavor and savory after tones.

"I think we are close enough to make camp, do you agree?" Darthog's heavy voice thundered through Jacob's distressing thoughts, bringing him back to the present, and into a much happier train of thinking.

"Yes, my friend, I do actually, I think Drakin and Drarkan could use water and grain, and we will need rest before the night falls upon us. You will need to refresh yourself before you go to my sister, and I will need to be at the waiting when you return to construct a strategy of escape, should things go less smoothly that we planned." Both men dismounted in a single fluid movement that spoke of childhoods spend in the saddle, and adult lives honed on the backs of equines. The soil still held a great deal of water in it, the thick muck sucking at their boots and making walking quite a task, but neither of them complained. They'd lived in worse, the squalor and filth created out of less pleasant things than simple earth and rain. Hammocks were swiftly fashioned between solid trees and strong cloths created by the king's own weavers. Never could two knights have afforded such luxuries, but Darthog had, in his younger years, rescued the errant prince, thus earning his knighthood and the favor of the royal loom crafters. He could still request tapestries of gold thread and no man would petition him for payment.

"You should go now friend, find yourself a willing hart and return swiftly, the night will soon fall and we should be at our best." Barker slapped him on the back in a friendly gesture, effectively drawing his wayward attentions. He did feel hunger, but his anticipation for what they aimed to attempt in mere hours, had muffled the urge to feed. Now it came roaring out at him like a living thing, struggling to break free and find something to quite the gnawing ache he'd allowed it to become.

"Thank you, Jacob, I will find you when I am through and then we will speak of plans and such." Slowly and methodically he headed into the soggy trees, his head constantly spattered by droplets of rainwater that still clung to the leaves. Silent as a heart's prayer he slid the leather band from his hair, allowing the thick black mass to descend to his waist. He'd never let another human see his hair, save for his mother, but to unbind it elated him, like setting a horse free of his headstall and saddle. Swiftly his clothes followed the hair cord, and he roared with satisfaction, sending a roosting murder of crows screaming into the cool evening air. The sound held and rang out for miles, his human side slinking into dormancy to allow the demon freedom to hunt. His dark eyes became scarlet and luminescent, his fingers elongated, the nails stretching to become thorn shaped and unimaginably sharp, and he sprouted a rather fearsome pair of fangs that lengthened to prick his generous lower lip, the small droplets of blood wetting his appetite further. Ecstasy sprang through him like a drug and he darted further into the darkness of the woodland, animal prowess his guide and the wind his dearest companion. It could scarcely keep up with him, and still he sprinted faster, his mind focused on hunting and the freedom he could allow himself in such priceless moments. A heartbeat thundered against his sensitive eardrums, the sound of another predator, a wolf perhaps, its own loping pace at great contrast with Darthog's swift darting to and fro as he flew in and out of the trees and other obstacles. Another sound tickled at the back of his mind, the soft huff of breath as a fawn ripped mouthfuls of grass free from the ground and crewed them with the same dedication as a cow grinding down on a bite of hay. His mother also grazed, but her head came up far more often, her yearlings safety more important than filling her own belly. The demon screamed at him to fall upon her, but Darthog avoided the pair, choosing to prey on fauna without young. He would not take her life, but the feeding tended to leave the victim weak for a time, and thus rather defenseless. A motherless fawn became to easy a target. Swiftly he changed course, finding a herd of hinds farther down the meadow, all of them strapping young males, healthy and full of vigor. He chose an impressively heavy built animal, his rack spread high and wide, and his body well muscled and fat. Darthog spoke no words, made no sound, but when beckoned, the buck loped to his side, and bared his corded neck.

The actual feeding took mere minutes, a single bite opening a smaller series of veins just under the jugular. He relished the taste on his tongue for far longer though. The heavy thickness coated his mouth and throat with the pleasant aftertaste of iron, the sensation heady and pleasant. The demon purred its satisfaction, thrilling in the awareness of how deeply he'd been allowed to drink. Slowly the claws retracted into the round fingernails they'd sprouted from, and his fangs slipped back inside his mouth, remaining hidden from prying eyes, and the hind wandered back to his companions, leaving a very human man standing naked in the middle of a strange wood. Darthog grinned and prayed to the gods that no one could see him, or had seen him. Shrugging, he returned to were he'd left his clothes and donned them, restoring his locks to their usual state of order, and stamped his stocking feet back into his heavy soled boots. The sun threatened to sink behind the horizon at any moment, and if he was ever to have a chance at returning his Lady to her rightful place it had to happen tonight, under the eyes of the Druid's Harvest moon.

He found Jacob slumbering in his hammock, his forearm tossed over his eyes, and his mouth agape in a snore that rattled his own bones. Darthog laughed but let the man sleep for a few moments longer while he found a cloth to wipe the remnants of his meal from his chin and teeth. He rinsed with fresh water from a nearby creek and then shook his friend to a reasonable sense of awareness.

"Barker, the night is soon upon us, we must speak of our plans. Tell me man, what if I cannot bring her willingly, can I fend off her knowledge of the magic's or shall I run?" He hadn't asked this particular question before due to the fact that he did not like the answer he knew he'd receive. No man could defeat Lady Annabella Barker's use of the magics, and under the Druid's moon she would hold more power in her little finger than he would backed by an army of war trained orcs. If she were not willing, this mission would come to naught and both men would return home in personal disgrace. The burden threatened to crush him. Long ago he resigned himself to the knowledge that she no longer knew him, that she could not recall the way she'd loved him so sweetly, or that special way she smiled when she knew he could see her but she could not see him. Nor could she remember the night they'd spent in his chambers, a night he'd held her like a precious flower, fragile and fragrant. She'd stumbled to him, weak from feeding a starving Changeling, the newborn vampyre unable to control himself. Weak and pale with blood loss she'd clung to him all through the night, whispering her love for him, fearing she would not live to see the morrow. He'd loved her before and since. After that night, when she'd regained her vigor, she'd fed him, an act, for them, more intimate than coupling. He'd locked those cherished memories inside him for so long, keeping them tucked in his heart, fearing that they both might loose them, and thus he would loose her. Just the idea awakened a terror in him that rose up like bile, bitter and disgusting. He shook his head violently, throwing it off like a dog throws off water.

"You must run if she will not come willingly, because if she fears you, she will kill you. I know my sister, Darthog. Use caution with her and let her come to you. You should go when the moon is at its highest. Her inner magic will be at its strongest then. She'll be able to come to you without the curses consequence. I will lend you my support, but the curse will not allow me to go with you, so be brave my brother, and bring her home." Jacob's face grew somber, his azure eyes blazing with the importance of this single act. His sister, despite this rescue, would still not know them, and to gain her trust they needed to get her among the people that loved her most. His father's tenants had begun looking to the horizon for her return the day she'd left, and still did, their hearts and minds always with her. Darthog nodded, reading Barker's facial expressions. This meant more to him than his own life, and Darthog felt the same intense need to find and hold her, just to know that she still lived and remained well. Another hour passed as the sun slid out of view, smearing the sky with bands of melding pastels, the oranges and pinks washing into the darker blue of the night sky. Darthog could still remember days watching Anna from his post on the high wall, her head resting in her palms as she leaned on her granite window sill to watch the last of the twilight melt into dusk. Her hair had always looked best under that light, the thick locks burning a brilliant umber under the heliodor touch of the evanescent sun. He sighed, and scraped a hand over his stubbled jaw. His body still responded to her like a green lads, his skin tightening and heating in a maddening manner. Moonrise couldn't come quick enough, the pale yellow orb turning bloody orange as it rose to watch the earth slumber. He said nothing as he turned to Jacob and grinned, his friend returning the gesture.

"Go, Hammerfist, retrieve her so that we can go home and resume our lives as it should be." Darthog clapped him on the back and turned to face the moment he would find his love. One way or another he would come back to this spot with her on his arm, or he would remain with her. He was through letting her live so far from him. A deep breath and he took his first steps into the clearing that leant him a clear view of her sleepy little village.

"Deep breaths, old man, deep breaths."