Shadows Of Desire

Vampire’s weren’t supposed to have a heart beat. Their hearts were dead, useless organs, only quickened by the taking of human life. That moment when the blood passes the lips and the monster connects on a physical level with their victim, only when they feel the fear induced pounding of their victims heart does the vampire feel the brief flutter of their own. So, why then, did Rowan feel his own heart beating furiously in his chest the closer they got to the gate and the guard that stood there watching them approach?

Bhalor drew the horse to a slow halt as the guard walked up to him, demanding he stop. Rowan held his breath as the guard looked over towards him, regarding him with suspicion.

“What is your business here?” The guard demanded, angrily. “The gate is closed for the night.”

“Took a bit longer cleaning out the King’s stables.” Bhalor explained with a soft chuckle. “A lot of refuse to clean up from the hunt. We were just heading home.”

The guard looked from Bhalor to Rowan then nodded. “Who’s that?” He asked.

“Just my son.” Bhalor lied.

“Kind of small for a bog giant isn’t he?”

Bhalor shrugged. “His mother’s a Dryad.”

The guard walked around the cart to where Rowan sat. Rowan sucked in a deep breath as he tried to steady his nerves. He didn’t dare to lift his head, even when the guard spoke to him.

“What’s your name boy?” The guard barked.

“He don’t speak none, Sir.” Bhalor told him. “Had ‘is tongue cut fer sassin’ the stable master few years back.”

“Serves him right.” The guard huffed as he looked him over. Rowan narrowed his eyes but held back the desire to tell the guard off.

Bhalor smirked. “He was always openin’ ’is mouth when he shouldn’t ‘a been. I tol’ ’im one of these days he was gonna spout off to the wrong person. Seems I were right. Damn kids always had an attitude.”

Rowan turned his head and glared at Bhalor but Bhalor only laughed as he gave Rowan a quick wink. “Guess he won’t be smartin’ off to no one no more.”

The guard took a step closer, sniffed Rowan then hastily stood back, scrunching his nose in disgust. “He smells like horse shit.” The guard growled.

“He been mucking out the stables.” Bhalor shrugged. “Whatdd’ya expect?”

“Revolting things.” The guard hissed between clenched teeth.

Bhalor sighed. “Might we go now, Sir? The wife’s making toadstool stew with serpent scales and leeches. Sure don’t want to miss that. It’s the boys favorite.”

Rowan held back a gag as Bhalor chuckled, clearly amused at his discomfort.

The guard nodded then waved them ahead. “Go on.” He growled before turning around and yelling, “Raise the gate!”

“Thanks much.” Bhalor smiled and waved at the man before taking up the reins once more and urging the old mare forward.

The gate lowered again behind them and Rowan let out the breath he’d been holding then he turned to Bhalor and asked with a scowl, “Toadstool stew with leeches?”

Bhalor chuckled. “Damn fine meal, Lad. Don’t knock it till ya tried it.”

“Thanks.” Rowan swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise up his throat. “I think I’ll pass.”

***

Rowan fought to keep his eyes open. Once, he nearly fell off the cart because he’d fallen asleep but Bhalor had luckily grabbed him and kept him from falling. He groaned and wiggled around on the bench, trying to adjust himself.

“I stop and let ya rest but we’re on a tight schedule.” Bhalor told him.

“I’m fine.” Rowan assured him. He moved around again trying to get comfortable.

“If yer arse is hurting, take off that cloak and sit on it. The glamour Folen put on ya has already faded anyway. No more need for a disguise.”

“My ass if fine.” Rowan lied but he took off the cloak and folded it like a pillow then sat on it anyway.

Bhalor laughed. “Guess even vamps kin get a sore arse.”

Rowan sighed. “It’s just the first time I’ve ever sat on anything this hard.”

Bhalor pursed his lips. For the first time since meeting Rowan, a look of anger crossed his face.

“Something wrong?” Rowan asked, looking at the larger man.

“It’s nothin’” Bhalor said, his tone emotionless and his eyes trained on the road before him.

“Please.” Rowan said, his voice softer now. “If I’ve said or done something to offend you, please tell me.”

Bhalor sighed. “It’s yer kind that offends me. Not you personally.”

“Oh.” Rowan hung his head in shame. “You’ve been so kind to me, I forgot how much you hate vampires. I suppose it’s not easy for you. Helping the son of your enemy.”

“Not vampires.” Bhalor explained. “Pampered palace imbeciles. I know ya can’t help how ya was raised but did ya ever stop to think about all the people who were sufferin’ while you were sitting pretty up in yer daddies castle? There’s people starving and I bet ya never went a day with an empty belly. Ya never had to sleep on a cold floor, or work until yer fingers bled just to make sure you had a roof over yer head and food on the table. Ya never had to work for anything in yer life, everything’s just been handed to ya. That’s what offends me, yer Highness. That’s why I’m angry.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Rowan pulled the black cloak around himself tighter, cowering away from Bhalor. “You’re right though. I never considered the people of the Kingdom suffering. I suppose I was just too busy feeling sorry for myself to concern myself with the needs of others.”

Bhalor scoffed. “And what did ya have to feel sorry ’bout? I get that ya didn’t wanna marry that bastard, Lord Killian. Who would. That monster gives monsters a bad name. But other than that, I’d say ya had it pretty good.”

Rowan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not a prince. I’m a coward. My people suffer and I did nothing because I was too scared to stand up to my father.”

Bhalor turned to look at Rowan, an odd expression on his face. “Was your father unkind to ya?” He asked.

“I was well cared for.” Rowan stated. His tone flat.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Rowan felt his shoulders sag and he sighed. “My father was prepared to give me away in marriage to a monster. He didn’t care what happened to me. He’d probably been happy if Lord Killian killed me. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that my father hated me. He hated everything about me. But, to answer your question, he wasn’t anything to me. He ignored me as much as he could. He wasn’t above showing me the back of his hand when I disobeyed him, which was quite often. I knew I’d get beaten for my obstinance but I didn’t care. It was worth it just to see the look of ire on his face.” Rowan smirked.

“Seems a bit foolish if ya ask me.” Bhalor stated. “Like pokin’ a bear. Why go looking for trouble if ya kin avoid it?”

“Because,” Rowan sighed. “It let him know that he couldn’t break me. No matter what he did or said. No matter how many times he hit me, he couldn’t break me. Wounds heal in time but if I allowed him to break my spirit, then I’d truly have nothing of myself left, and I wasn’t going to allow him to take that away from me too.”

“I’m sorry.” Bhalor said after a short pause.

Rowan glanced up at him, questioningly.

Bhalor shrugged and gave Rowan a sympathetic smile. “Maybe we ain’t so very different after all.”

***

Rowan tensed as he looked at the road ahead of them. The path they had been taking so far had led them through farm land and then past a small lake where Bhalor had stopped long enough to allow the horse to drink and he and Rowan to get down and stretch their legs. But, now that they had continued on their journey Rowan noticed that the open space began to grow smaller and then they were going down a dirt and gravel road that, to Rowan’s horror, was leading them straight into the woods.

“Bhalor?” He asked. “Where are we?”

“Ganlan forest.” Bhalor answered.

“Bhalor, I can’t go in there. My scent, I’m not safe, the wolves...”

“Relax.” Bhalor pulled on the reins, slowing the mare down a bit as he edged the cart onto the narrow path through the woods. “Most of the wolves have rejoined their packs by now. Any stragglers left roaming the woods won’t come this far. We’re in bog territory now.”

“Are wolves frightened of the bog people?” Rowan asked, curiously.

Bhalor shook his head. “No. We’re allies with the packs but they can’t stand the smell.” He smirked. “You’ll see why in a bit.”

True to his word, the further in they went the worse the smell became. Rowan had never smelled anything so repugnant in his life. Even the open trenches in the city didn’t compare to the rancid smell of the bogs. It wasn’t so much disgusting as it was overwhelming. It was bad. Rowan could barely stand it himself but it wasn’t something one would associate with trash or rot. It was a sour odor mixed with mildew and something that he could only describe as earthy flatulence. That’s all he could think as he covered his nose with his cloak. It was a strong, relentless, never ending fart.

“Dear Gods that’s hideous!” He exclaimed as he waved a hand in front of his face. “How do you stand it?”

Bhalor chuckled. “Smells like heaven to me.”

Rowan looked at him in disbelief as he shook his head.

“Ah, we’re here.”

Rowan looked up. “Here?”

Bhalor pointed ahead. Rowan followed with his eyes to the place Bhalor pointed and at first he saw nothing then, slowly as if his eyes had only to adjust to the darkness around him, he noticed something come into view. It was a dark shadow at first, a silhouette outlining something large that was squeezed in between a grove of large cypress trees. Bhalor pulled the reins and the horse stopped. That’s when Rowan understood that what he was looking at was a medium sized cabin hidden in the trees. Obviously concealed by some form of fairy magic, he thought, as he swore he hadn’t seen anything there before.

Bhalor climbed down from the cart and tied the horse to a tree then walked over to help Rowan down. He was about to protest, claiming he was capable of climbing down on his own but then stopped, grateful for the help when he realized just how stiff his legs were.

“Is this where you live?” Rowan asked him.

Bhalor chuckled. “No, young Prince. If I’d taken ya to me home, you’d ’ave passed out by now.”

Rowan debated for a moment whether or not Bhalor had made an attempt at a joke but then realized that he was probably telling him the truth. Bhalor’s home was probably a hole in the bog that smelled like the ass end of a troll, or worse. He shivered at the thought.

“This cabin belongs to an old friend of Lady Folen.” He motioned for Rowan to follow him through the trees to the front door of the house. “Come on now, he be expectin’ us.”

Rowan followed behind, not sure what to expect when they reached the door but a little worried about what manner of creature lived in the smelly forest. Not another giant for sure. The cabin was much too small for that. Some type of Fae no doubt but Rowan’s knowledge of Fae was so limited that he really had no idea what to expect.

They had barely reached the door when it suddenly flew open and to Rowan’s surprise, a short, elderly man stepped out to greet them. The old man stood hunched over, a lit pipe in one hand, the other rested on the handle of the door. He had long grey hair and a grey beard that reached midway to his chest. He was dressed in a long, striped, night shirt, and house shoes.

“It’s about time you two showed up.” The old man croaked. “I’ve been sitting up for hours.”

“Had to wait till the streets were cleared.” Bhalor explained. “Folen didn’t want to take the chance that anyone recognized the boi here.”

The old man looked Rowan over closely then turned and walked back into the house. “Well, come in.” His voice called out from the dimly lit room. “No use in heating the outside.”

Bhalor motioned for Rowan to go into the house while he stood by the doorway.

“Aren’t you coming in?” Rowan asked, hesitantly.

“I’ll be more comfortable sleepin’ in the cart.” Bhalor told him. “Ya go on in though. Ol’ Guth won’t bite ya.”

Bhalor turned and walked back to the cart, leaving Rowan standing in the opened door way.

“You’re letting the bugs in.” The old man scolded from behind.

Rowan closed the door then took a few uncertain steps into the cabin. The soft light from a nearby candle cut a path through the foyer into a small living area where a fire burned in a hearth. Over the fire was a large, cast iron pot, the contents bubbled as it cooked sending a heavenly aroma up the permeated the air, making Rowan’s mouth water.

“Hungry?” The old man asked. “There’s a bowl on the table. Help yourself.” He pointed to the table across him where he was sitting, sucking on his pipe, his eyes trained on Rowan though he didn’t seem frightened of the vampire Prince or even apprehensive, just curious.

“Thank you.” Rowan said to the man then made his way to the table, picking up the wooden bowl and spoon that was set out for him. He then turned to the boiling pot and leaned over, inhaling the delicious scent.

“It’s rabbit.” The man answered before Rowan could even ask the question that was burning in his mind. “Threw in some vegetables too. Carrots, cabbage, a few potatoes, and herbs from my garden.”

“Smells delicious.” Rowan smiled as he helped himself to a bowl full.

“Well, eat up. Take as much as you like. I made too much for just myself. Always make too much. Never know when I’m going to get guests.”

Rowan nodded in understanding. “Should I offer Bhalor some?”

The old man shook his head. “He knows he’s welcome. My guess is he’ll find his own meal out in the woods. Normally does.”

“Alright.” Rowan took his bowl and sat down across for Guth then blew on his spoon full of stew before carefully putting it in his mouth. When the stew hit his tongue his taste buds exploded and he had to stifle back a moan. He’d had rabbit before, rabbits were raised at the palace for the purpose of eating, but nothing the cooks had prepared were anything near as delectable as what he was eating now. “This is...magnificent.” He said before diving in for a second bite.

The old man chuckled. “Why, thank you. It’s an old recipe, passed down through generations.”

“Well, it’s better than anything I’ve had at the palace.” Rowan smiled.

Guth took another puff of his pipe and watched Rowan ravenously devour the contents of the bowl. Guth offered him a second bowl to which Rowan declined, not wanting to be rude, but when Guth insisted, Rowan eagerly got up and refilled the bowl.

“Are you thirsty?” The old man asked. “Don’t have any blood. Just put a pot of tea on though.”

“Tea is fine, Sir.” Rowan said after swallowing another spoon full.

Guth poured two cups of tea and sat one before Rowan who thanked him before picking up his cup and sipping at it. He smiled. The tea was as delicious as the stew.

Guth sat back down, sipping his own tea as he watched Rowan finish his meal. “So, King Desmond’s son.” Guth said, thoughtfully. “Must be strange for you, being away from the palace.”

Rowan nodded. “It is. Very strange. But I find that I am enjoying the experience.”

“You’re not like your father. Or any other vampire for that matter. Not that I spend much time around vampires. I tend to keep to myself, here in my cabin, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. I like the quiet and solitude of nature.”

“It does seem peaceful here.” Rowan commented. “If you can get passed the smell.”

Guth chuckled. “I’ve been here long enough that it doesn’t bother me. I suppose I’ve grown used to it. It does help to keep the wolves at bay though. I’m sure if they caught sight of me they might think me a tasty treat. Then again, at my age, there’s not much left of me but bones to gnaw on. Still, I’d prefer not to become some pups chew toys.”

“Do you not get along with the wolves then?” Rowan asked, curiously.

“Oh, I get along with them fine.” Guth mused. “When they need something. But there’s no telling how they’ll react on full moon nights, when the beast is more in control than the man. It’s why they stick to the woods and away from neighboring towns. To a wolf following the pull of the moon, a small child, or a helpless old man, is no different than a rabbit. It’s the chase they crave. The meal that follows is just a bonus.”

“I see.” Rowan said as he finished the last of his stew and placed the spoon in the bowl. “But, they’re not always so vicious, are they?”

“Oh heavens no.” Guth told him with a smile. “In human form they’re just like you and me. They have jobs, homes, and families. They’re fiercely protective though, especially of their children. They’ll fight and kill to protect what’s theirs.”

“That’s admirable.” Rowan stated, thinking back to his own father who couldn’t give a damn about him. “If they can love so deeply, I don’t see why they are feared so. It would make more sense to keep them as our allies rather than our enemies.” Of course, Rowan was speaking of the vampire race who seemed to make enemies of everyone, not just the wolves.

“Some people still have a lot to learn.” Guth said, sipping his tea. “No matter how many centuries old they are.”

Rowan smirked at that, realizing that Guth was speaking of Rowan’s father, the King. Rowan stared into his own cup for a long moment before lifting his head and catching Guth’s eyes. The man’s eyes were a soft, light, blue and filled with kindness. Rowan wasn’t sure how old the man was but he imagined that he was old enough that those eyes had seen their fair share.

“Pardon me.” Rowan said, trying to sound respectful, “But, may I ask, what exactly are you?”

Guth chuckled, his expression light hearted. “I’m an old man.” He answered.

Rowan blinked, “No, I meant what race are you?”

“I know what you meant.” Guth told him, his voice becoming more serious now. “Does it matter? Is my hospitality more or less welcome depending on my race?”

“Well, no.”

“There was a time, long ago, when race didn’t matter. We were all just...people. People living among other people. People helping other people. Yes, we were all different, but our differences complimented each other. We learned to work and live together. Even protect each other. One race wasn’t more superior than any other. We lived in peace.”

“What happened?”

Guth waved the question off. “It doesn’t matter really. What truly matters is those of us who still hold true to the old ways. Show kindness when you can, help those in need, regardless of their race. We are all children of nature and we have to live in this world together so why not try to live in harmony?”

“You are very wise.” Rowan smiled at the old man.

“I’m very old.” Guth retorted with a soft chuckle. “And, I’m very tired. It’s time to call it a night. There’s a cot in the corner you can use. I suggest you get some sleep. You have a long journey ahead of you tomorrow.”

“Do you know where I’m going?” Rowan asked. “What Folen’s plan for me is?”

“Bhalor will explain that all in the morning.” Guth told him as he rose from his seat. When Rowan too rose and picked up his empty bowl, Guth shook his head. “Leave it, I’ll tend to it in the morning. For now, sleep.” With that he turned and shuffled off into a room in the back of the house.

Rowan sat the bowl down on the table then retired to the cot that Guth had mentioned. As he lay back and closed his eyes he couldn’t help but think about all that Guth had told him. There was a time when all the races lived in peace. A time before war and slavery. A time before oppression and cruelty. Though Guth didn’t say it, Rowan knew what had happened to end the days of peace and harmony. Vampires had happened. Even though Rowan hadn’t been born yet when the first vampire rose to power, he still couldn’t help but feel the weight of his ancestors sins. Shame for what his people had done filled his heart and he felt hot tears sting his eyes.

He wished desperately that he could undo all the pain that his race had caused and bring peace back to the people but what he could he do? He was just one small omega. He had no power in him to do anything. Not even save himself from the cruelty of his father. Instead, he allowed those whom his father abused and oppressed to save him themselves. Maybe, in some ways, his father was right. Maybe he was useless.

He was suddenly glad that he would never be permitted to rule Basmorte. He’d make a terrible Queen and the people deserved better. They deserved a true monarch that could lead them out of the darkness and heal their pain. A monarch who wasn’t a coward but a true and benevolent leader, and Rowan was none of those things. With a sigh, he drifted off to sleep, where dreams of a better life filled his mind. If only such a life existed. Only time would tell.