Could there still be vampires who were loyal to my line? It was hard to believe. Desmerada ruled with death and terror, never suffering anyone to question or seek a return to the old ways. But here they were, powerful warriors dispatching the blight of dark mages.
They had worked together as one unit, storming the tower and killing the evil that had taken hold, just as Priam had taught the Trojans those many years ago. Always a team, always together, fighting as one. I could hear the shouts going up from the troops in my mind in response to my father’s creed.
I snapped out of my reverie when I saw a blazing orb of fire growing into a maelstrom of destruction. Elena. I dashed toward her, covering the space between us in a moment. She stood before more than a dozen vampires who had formed a semicircle.
“One more step and you all get dusted.” The cruel edge to her voice was new—likely a part of her career as Artemis’s war chieftain.
They did not back away but stood unafraid, prepared to meet their fiery fate.
“Elena.” I eased up behind her, laying a hand on her upper arm.
A murmur went through the soldiers at my appearance. Some of their eyes lit with recognition, though I’d never seen any of them before. They spoke to each other in the ancient vampire language.
“Elena, drop the orb.”
She was ready to destroy them all, to burn them into floating ashes. “Why? Do you know them?”
“No.”
“Then we need to leave. Now.” The heat from her spell was singeing my eyebrows, but I could not turn my back on my people. That symbol was one of hope, and it seemed to glow even brighter with the reflected flames.
“Paris—”
At my name, the vampires dropped to their knees and laid their swords at their feet. Elena turned and looked up at me, a question in her eyes.
I held her gaze. “Drop the orb.”
With a whoosh, the flaming sphere of death disappeared, but the vampires remained on their knees before us.
“Askenith,” the one who seemed to be their leader said. “My king” in the old language.
“Askenith,” the men echoed, their gazes still trained on the ground.
“Shakorah.” I repeated the word I’d heard my father say on so many occasions. The king’s greeting to all loyal subjects. It meant “peace.” And it came off my tongue far too easily. I was no one’s king.
The vampires rose from the ground and sheathed their swords. Elena was still tense, her rigid back pressed against me. “Did I just miss something?”
The leader who had spoken first stepped forward, causing a shimmer of magic to erupt around Elena.
“I mean no harm, and I apologize for my rough actions.” He bowed low, leaving the back of his neck bare. There was no greater compliment or show of trust among the vampires than such an act.
I was at a loss, utterly unsure of what to say to these hardened warriors. They’d likely been fighting for the millennia I’d been avoiding the throne and living it up on earth. The shame at the realization burned me as sure as Elena’s fire. I’d had no idea any vampires loyal to Priam were still alive, but that was no excuse.
Gods, I’m a coward.
Maybe the mortals’ stories about me were true. So many times I’d read about myself, how I was a deserter, no mettle in my bones. How I ran from the battle with Menelaus when I felt I was losing. How I was inconstant and rash. None of it was true. Well, perhaps rash—yes, that was true.
But I’d fought for Troy, fought for Helen. I simply hadn’t won. History was hard on the losers. That’s what I’d always told myself. But now, knowing I’d left my brethren behind to suffer under Desmerada’s reign gnawed at me. The selfishness in such an act overwhelmed me as I looked at their battle-weary faces.
I had to make this right. With Elena at my side, maybe I could.
I squeezed Elena’s upper arm before stepping next to her.
“I am Paris, and this is Elena.”
Rising from his deep bow, the leader replied, “I am Captain Faren Lewin, leader—”
A screeching roar resonated through the wood, and the soldiers hurried into action, as if driven by the sound. One whistled, and a bevy of amaranths, the vampires’ mounts, hurried from the trees on the far side of the clearing. They whinnied, fear in their gentle eyes.
“We must go, my lord, and quickly,” Captain Lewin said.
“What made that sound?” Elena asked, her eyes wide.
“The same thing that destroyed this tower.”
The roar sounded again, louder now.
“We’ve not much time.” The captain jumped astride his mount, patting its neck in calming strokes. The beasts were akin to horses, but furry and with shorter snouts. Another soldier brought an amaranth, this one tall and with curly fur, to me. I hesitated only for a second, but the image of the Trojan symbol emblazoned on the soldiers’ armor and the show of trust from the captain made my decision for me. I lifted Elena astride the beast and jumped up behind her.