Vampire Warlords: The Clockwork Vampire Chronicles by Andy Remic

remembering the Days of Blood, where he had indeed eaten human flesh, and much more, and much worse. "I would rather die," he said, voice husky, eyes hidden.
      "Well that's where we differ, then," snapped Myriam, voice hard. "But you should not judge so readily, Kell. I guided you and Nienna and Saark out from that bastard mountain; I saved your lives. This time."
      "Lucky for us," nodded Kell, dark eyes glinting in the firelight. And now he didn't look like such a friendly bear. Now he looked far more dangerous. "But enough talk. What are your plans now, Myriam?"
      "I will attempt to kill the Vampire Warlords."
      This was met with momentary silence. The wind hissed through the trees, and it sounded like the roll of the ocean against a beach. It was hypnotic. Somewhere, snow clumped from high branches. Conifers creaked and sighed.
      "Why?" said Kell, eventually, head tilted to one side. It was such a simple question, Myriam was speechless for a few moments as she composed her thoughts.
      "It is the right thing to do," she said, eventually, and looked into the fire, refusing to meet his gaze.
      "You will die, then," he said.
      "So be it."
      Kell growled. "This thing is too big for you," he snapped. Graal's Army of Iron is invincible; you know how they took Jalder, and Vor, and the gods only know which other Falanor cities. And I was there at Old Skulkra when the Army of Iron came from the Great North Road, came from Vorgeth Forest like ghosts." He spat, and rubbed his beard viciously, as if angry with himself. "Those bastard Harvesters cast their ice-smoke magick. No soldier could stand against them!"
      "But you still live," said Myriam, softly.
      "I am different," snapped Kell.
      "Yes, you have your magick axe," she said, halfmocking.
      "There is nothing magick about this axe. And before you say it, no, she is possessed by no demon; let us just say Ilanna has an attribute none of you could ever guess."
      "So you will not help?"
      "I cannot fight Falanor's battles forever," he said.
      "It looks like you've stopped fighting full stop," said Saark.
      Kell looked at him, and pointed with a powerful finger. "Don't you bloody start," he said.
      "Well," scoffed Saark, "look at you, look at everything we've been through, all the fights and the murder and the bloodshed. And the mighty Kell would turn his back now ? Just as things got worse? The time he is needed the most !"
      "That's the point, lad. We made things worse. Don't you see? We're pawns in another man's game. Every step we've taken since meeting up in Jalder in that cursed tannery has seen us step closer and closer to the resurrection of the Vampire Warlords. We made it happen, Saark. We fucking made it happen."
      Saark shook his head. "That's so much horse shit Kell, and you know it. If it hadn't happened the way it did, it would have occurred another way. Yes, maybe we were set up to some extent – because Alloria had that Soul Gem implanted near my heart by the dark gods only know what deep and ancient magick. But the outcome was always written in stone, written in blood. Now we have to stop it."
      "No." Kell ground his teeth.
      "Why not?" said Saark. "I don't believe the mighty Kell has given up. Or maybe he's just turned soft, heart turned to butter, muscles to jellied jam, maybe the mighty Kell's dick has finally gone limp and he can no longer fuck young boys. But you still suck, don't you Kell?" Saark stood. Kell's head was down. "Is that all you want from life now, you dirty old bastard? To suck horse dick and bury your head in the ground? Wallow in self pity?" Saark sang, and his voice was a beautiful, haunting lullaby:
     
" He dreamt of the slaughter at Valantrium Moor,
A thousand dead foes, there could not be a cure
Of low evil ways and bright terrible deeds,
Of men turned bad, he'd harvest the weeds,
His mighty axe hummed, Ilanna by name,
Twin sharp blades of steel, without any shame
For the