Rancor: Vampyre Hunter (Rancor Chronicles) by James McCann Read Free Book Online Page A

not? Yet ya do mind dem on ya plate! Give dese men to da gods for deir plates, just as ya would an animal to ya stomach.”
    “Dere is a difference, Kendil.”
     
    “Man understands the evil he is. That is the difference.”
    Rellik stared hard at the painting as he rolled onto his side. He could only meet the portrait’s gaze for a moment before he sat up and smothered a shout. Memories! There was no escape from them, no running from them, and sometimes there was no forgiveness from them.
     
    “How can you treat us with such malice? Have you no kindness in your heart?”
    Rancor stood on guard outside the cave where the prisoners were locked. Only days ago the words from these men had sounded like no more than guttural utterances, the same as any beast from the land. But it had not taken long before Rancor learned the villagers’ tongue as easily as his own.
    The prisoner said, “You seemed interested enough yesterday to learn our tongue. You have an incredible mind, friend.”
    “It be me curse, and don call ma friend!” Rancor turned on the man, gritting his teeth and throwing a fist at the bars. When the prisoner shrank away, Rancor calmed. In a near whisper he said, “I understand ya. Please leave ma be, I do way I do because da gods command.”
    “You follow false gods then. Why would a god create such beauty if he wanted men to spoil it?”
    “’Tis not ma duty ta question.”
    “Serve a god that says you must serve others. Do not question. Seek.”
    Rancor faced the two men within the prison. One sat weeping on the floor while the other who spoke stood grasping the bars. He said again, “Seek.”
    “I would ’ave ta leave ma clan, ma life. I cannoy.”
    “You cannot lose what was never yours.” He reached through the bars and grasped Rancor’s shoulder. “But whatever you choose know this: I forgive you.”
    A voice from behind startled Rancor, “If it is ya wish ta set dese men free, I shan’t stand in ya way.” It was Kendil, his brother. “But if ya do, ya must say farewell to da Alsandair and never royturn.”
    “Farewell? For what?” Rancor turned to face his kin. “Your ma clansmen. I amn’t turn away ta save da innoycents.”
    They stood before one another, Kendil wearing his best sword as did Rancor.
    “Innoycents? Sooner or later ya words will see ya ’ang on ta gallows. Ya do noy belong ’ere, brother.”
    “Ya would see ma banished?”
    Kendil turned his back to his brother. Staring into the rising sun, he said, “Ya never belonged ta us. ’Tis not da way o’ an Alsandair ta show mercy.”
    “And is thoy all we are? Mirror images o’ one anoyther?”
    Kendil laughed. “Still you pose such questions on ma. Rancor, my dear, kind brother, I will let ya do dis deed, but only if ya vow on ya honor ta noy return.”
    “Are you ashamed o’ me?”
    Kendil, his body silhouetted by a crimson horizon, turned back to his brother. “I love ya, brother. Enough to know da gods mean ya for greater things.”
    “Ta gods? What madness in such belief! If dey be real, would dey noy ask, noy, demand us to love one another?”
    “Thoy demand is noy ’ere, Rancor. Especially–” Kendil fell short, suddenly unable to meet his sibling’s gaze.
    “Especially? Tell me.”
    “I ’ave seen ya change,” Kendil whispered, still without meeting his brother’s gaze.
    Rancor turned away. “Roy! Ya eyes trick ya!”
    “What would da gods ’ave granted ya such power, and such mercy, if da ’ad meant ya to live ya life as one o’ us?”
    “And what o’ you? Did da gods mean ya for dis bane? Let us both flee da evil in which we live.”
    “Ma blood dances when it spills another. ’Tis only yours da mourns.”
    “Ansgar will kill ya should you stay.”
    “I will bear them false witness. I shall bear ya put a spell on me.”
    “And if the Council does not believe you?”
    “I shall die.” Kendil placed his hands on Rancor’s shoulder and whispered, “I was born Alsandair, and