The Vampire Prince’s Bride

Chapter 7

***

It happened that while Adaria was safely tucked away in Castle Cerberus recounting the events of her evening with Liana and Regina, several miles to the west, King Nazar had just summoned Ophelia to his War chamber.

“You called for me, your Grace?” she said, bowing in front of him.

King Nazar was too absorbed in the stone table before him to notice her presence. The table was carved to form a map of the entire kingdom of Dridell, with raised portions signifying the four central factions of Castamore, Dallin, Clarion and Daramount. Smaller pieces represented the King’s army, and their positioning on the table reflected their true position in the real world. Most of them were scattered into smaller groups and were facing East centrally. No doubt the King still didn’t trust the kingdom of Kovia even after all these years.

When King Nazar looked up however, there was a frown on his face.

“Ophelia,” he said, “have you heard of the disturbing news Lady Delicia sent to me this morning?”

“I’m afraid not, your Grace,” she said, straightening up. “What troubles you?”

“Vampires,” he said. “Three of them were captured in Daramount yesterday.”

“Vampires?” The astonishment on her face was near-perfect. “What caused them to venture so far from home? Daramount is the farthest city from Kovia.”

“They were trading in magical artifacts,” he said. “Delicia says most of the items have been recovered. But there was something of interest which the vampires mentioned.”

“What is that?” she asked.

“The Morningstar,” he replied.

The words hung in the very air they were breathing. It had been years since the Morningstar was mentioned within the walls of Castle Donovan. Its name alone held a power that was unprecedented, and it was almost as if the ghost of King Malik reared its head whenever the name was mentioned, for a chill ran down everyone’s spine when it was spoken.

Ophelia felt a strange unease at the mention of the sword. Her master detested it, since it was the same weapon King Malik used to defeat him a lifetime ago. Its fame could almost rival King Malik himself. And Ophelia knew better than to ever bring up the name in his presence again.

“The Morningstar?” she asked however, since he wasn’t nearby to hear her say it. “Why would the vampires be talking about it?”

“They were trying to find it,” he said. “They refuse to say what they intended to do with it. But whatever it is, it cannot be good.”

“I thought the sword was buried in the catacombs beneath this castle,” she said.

“I thought so too,” King Nazar said. “But I cannot ignore the rumors any longer. When a rumor is heard once, it can be dismissed as hearsay. But when you hear it several times, over and over again, it causes you to wonder.”

“What rumor is this, your Grace?” Ophelia asked.

“Some say,” he whispered, as though the walls had ears themselves, “that the sword was never buried here at Donovan. They say the tomb of King Malik is empty, and that he was secretly buried somewhere else along with the sword.”

Ophelia had heard the rumor once. But she’d dismissed it as hearsay. There was no concrete way of knowing.

“But that’s simply absurd,” she said. “King Malik is surely buried right under this castle, along with the other past Kings of your great house. How could he possibly be buried somewhere else?”

“I wonder the same thing as well,” he said. “But I’ve called you to put an end to this doubt in my heart. Let the rumors be confirmed whether they are true or false.”

“I’m at your disposal, your Grace,” she said. “Tell me what to do, and it shall be my honor to assist you.”

“Come with me,” he said.

Ophelia followed quietly, not sure what King Nazar had in mind. He couldn’t expect her to put an end to the rumors. People would always talk, and if he chose to acknowledge every new story that came his way, then he would spend the rest of his days as King trying to put an end to meaningless stories.

“You are not to speak about what happens today with anyone,” he said, turning to glance at her over his shoulder. “Do you understand me? Not a single word, otherwise we will never be able to contain the outbreak.”

“I would never speak of it unless you grant me permission to do so, your Grace,” Ophelia said. She watched him as he walked. Something seemed off about him. Perhaps it was the papery appearance of his skin. He looked worn out, like he’d aged a hundred years within the space of two days. His dark hair was beginning to gray at the top and the sides.

Perhaps her master had something to do with it. Ever since she removed the protective enchantments around King Nazar’s chambers, she hadn’t heard a word from him. He hadn’t told her what his plan was, or why he needed to enter the King’s chambers. But whatever it was, she had to make sure it didn’t trace back to her. The last thing she needed was an investigation into her affairs by anyone.

King Nazar led them onwards, until it became apparent that they were heading towards the catacombs. Ophelia froze at the entrance of the archway which led down to the dark enclosures.

“Your Grace?” she said, clearly perplexed. “What are we doing here? Outsiders aren’t allowed down here.”

“I am aware of that,” he said. “But I am the King, and I shall do as I please. Come. There is no time to waste.”

They walked in silence down the winding stairway that was surrounded by torches. They burned faintly, and the small flames flickered as both the King and Ophelia passed.

“The tombs are sealed by magic,” King Nazar said. “The druids have tried to open them, but their magic is not strong enough. I had Sir Randall bring six of the most powerful ones here, but none of them could break the spells which lock the tombs. But I know your magic is stronger than theirs.”

Ophelia felt her throat go dry.

“Y-You w-want m-m-me to...”

“Yes,” King Nazar said. “I want you to break the seal of King Malik’s tomb. I want you to open it so that we can put this rumor behind us.”

“Your Grace,” she said, “that is unheard of. It-it is a sacrilege. I cannot desecrate the tomb of a King. It is an atrocious sin.”

“It is not a sin if I tell you to do it,” he said. “Don’t you understand the importance of what I’m telling you to do?”

He turned around to face her then, and in his eyes Ophelia saw just how livid he was.

“If the sword is indeed missing from the tomb,” he explained, “then we have a very big problem on our hands. It means it was buried somewhere else. And we have no idea where it is. Which means someone else can get their hands on it. Do you now understand the seriousness of the situation?”

“Of course, your Grace,” she said, bowing her head. King Nazar turned around and led them onwards, down and down until they finally reached the catacombs. The air smelled dead, not just because of the corpses buried there. It seemed to just hover in the room, not moving at all. Ophelia felt a chill run down her spine, like a bucket of freezing water had been doused over her.

“It’s that one over there,” King Nazar said, pointing to the tomb above which the statue of the old King was carved. His was the only one which had the sword carved alongside it. Ophelia stared at the sword tentatively. For all the talks about it, the Morningstar looked like any other sword. But she knew too well the power it held. And she knew that if ever there was a weapon which held more power than anyone could ever imagine, it would be this sword.

“Be careful,” King Nazar said. “I don’t want you to destroy the statue in your attempt. Just break the seal and I shall handle the rest.”

Cautiously, Ophelia walked up to the tomb and let her hand hover over it while she tried to detect any traces of magic. She felt a pulse, and then a shiver before a spark erupted from the spot. A barrier appeared over the tomb, glowing purple before it disappeared once again.

“It’s an ancient concealment charm,” she said. “This was probably put in place by an old druid. I can sense traces of their magic woven into it. But there’s also elements of blood magic, which is why the druids you brought have failed to break it. Whoever put the spell in place did so to prevent anyone from gaining access to it.”

“Can you break the spell though?” he asked.

“I might be able to,” Ophelia replied, “but it depends entirely on whose blood was used to create the spell. If I had to guess however, I would assume it was your father’s blood; it would make the most sense.”

“Do it,” King Nazar said, extending his arm over the grave. With his other hand he brought out his golden dagger and passed it to Ophelia.

“This might sting a little,” she said as she held his hand.

“Please. I’ve been stabbed many times already. The pain will go away soon enough.”

Ophelia muttered an incantation before she sliced the King’s palm swiftly. King Nazar merely grunted, but otherwise he remained impassive.

As his blood trickled onto the tomb, Ophelia moved his hand away before placing hers over it. She began to mutter a spell, and King Nazar stepped back in astonishment as the entire tomb began to glow with an ominous purple flame. Ophelia’s chanting grew louder, and she had to use both hands. The flames grew taller, and for a moment it seemed like they would consume the entire room. But she managed to contain the flames, although she seemed to be struggling.

A thunderous c***k came from the tomb, and the force of it was so powerful that it threw Ophelia backwards across the room.

King Nazar rushed to her side, and he saw that she was bleeding from the nose.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Is it done?”

King Nazar turned around to look at the tomb, where a tiny c***k had appeared in its side. Ophelia groaned as she saw what little damage she had done to the spell.

“I can do this,” she said, rising unsteadily to her feet. King Nazar stepped aside and once again, Ophelia placed both hands on the barrier which was still glowing purple. She began to chant again, and the flames erupted from the tomb once again. The explosion was louder this time, but she anticipated the hit and steadied herself. This time, it only shoved her a few inches back. She kept the pressure on the barrier, and several seconds later, it shattered with such force that it extinguished the flames in the room.

Ophelia snapped her fingers, and a ball of flame appeared above her hands. She gasped when she noticed that the tomb had split open, and the cover had been blown to the side. King Nazar gasped as well when he noticed what had happened.

Slowly, he made his way to the tomb. He held his breath as he peered inside, with Ophelia’s light shining into its depth.

“Oh my God!” he exclaimed.

Ophelia peered inside as well, and the sight before her shook her to the core.

“Do you realize what this means?” King Nazar said.

“We have a very big problem on our hands, your Grace,” she said, taking a step back. She had anticipated that they wouldn’t find the sword in the tomb. But what she hadn’t anticipated was the fact that the tomb would be completely empty. There was no sword, and not even a corpse.

“Send word to the wardens immediately,” King Nazar said. “Hell is about to break loose on us all.”

If only he knew how true his statement was.

***