1686 NORTHERN ENGLAND

 Jieller Wilkham moved carefully through the ruins of the castle, the building was a victim of the civil war or dark days of the Lord Protector Cromwell. He knew he lived in a land that was in constant civil turmoil and had been since the death of Queen Elizabeth, her leadership had led to a brief period of calm for the commoners of the land. Jieller had been around long enough to witness how quickly a mighty state could fall. The seventeenth century had been a disaster for England, from the loss of its greatest queen, through civil war and all the horrors that followed. Worse was coming as the Catholic Church regained favour with the rise of the new King James II. The land faced an increase of secret Vatican forces that aimed to claim back the country and had begun to hunt down his kind.

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 For centuries the secret war had raged across Europe but for a while, England had been a relatively safe haven. The Protestant leaders who ruled the land didn’t have the forces or knowledge to hunt vampires, such information was jealously guarded by Rome. Within months of the new king’s coronation, the Vatican had dispatched their hunters and the battles had begun. Vampires across the south had been hunted down but in the north the clans had stopped and defeated them. While the humans fought for control of the nation, the vampire clans and church fought their own secret war.

The secret war had taken a disastrous turn when first the nest living in the caves of Nottingham had been destroyed and quickly after, both Lincoln and Coventry clans had fallen too. A few desperate survivors told of what was most feared: the Knights of Blood were on English shores. Jieller had escaped York just in time and had been hiding out in the countryside for almost a month; England was at the point of being lost.

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Moving to an area of the broken wall overgrown with weeds, he pulled open a trap door and descended into a hidden room knowing the sun would soon be rising. Instantly he knew he wasn’t alone and prepared himself for any attack. After a second, the shutter of a lantern was opened just enough so his vampire eyes could see the room around him. Beside the lantern sat a figure, wrapped in a dirty black cloak.
 “I knew I smelled another vampire last night as I skirted the village.” The figure said. 
“This is my place to sleep, what are you doing here?” Jieller said, trying to sound braver than he felt.
 “Just hiding like you and wanting news of what’s going on.” The figure said as he pulled back his hood to reveal a young face. Jieller relaxed as he moved forward to sit on an old powder barrel across from the newcomer.
 “So how did you end up living like this?” the stranger asked.
“I escaped from York about a month back, got out just before the nest was attacked. What clan are you?” Jieller asked, trying to discover something about the stranger. He was not comfortable in his presence, something about the young vampire didn’t seem right.
 “No clan, well not anymore,” the stranger said with a despondent sigh. “Who attacked York?”
 “The Blood Knights, they are working their way across the land and destroying us all. With the majority of our strength away fighting the lycans we cannot stand against them. Where have you been for the last year?” Jieller asked unable to understand how one of his kind could be so out of touch with the war that was raging.
 “We’ve been busy trying to find someone. A witch dragged us here, so one can also send me back.” The stranger stopped and cocked his head as Jieller felt a change in the room, subtle but it was there. “Splitting hairs, the witch is responsible,” he said as he returned his gaze to Jieller.
“What was that? Who are you talking to?” Jieller asked, his hand moving to the hilt of a knife at his waist.
 “I heard of some in Bideford a couple of years ago, but the locals hung them before I got there.” The stranger said, ignoring the question.

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 “I’m afraid you’ll struggle to find a live witch, the Witchfinder General has done his job well on these shores.” Jieller said, deciding he wanted the vampire out of his bolthole. “There are rumours of one near Bury St Edmunds, goes by the name of Mother Munnings. It’s said that she did some work for the head of the Nottingham clan a few years ago when he had trouble with a demon.”
“I had trouble with a demon once, she took my sister Polly,” again the strange vampire paused. “I’m not always bringing it up. Ok I’ll not mention it again.”
 “Who do you keep talking to?” Jieller pressed again. “If we’re to share this space for the day, I would like to know who you are and why you keep talking to yourself.”
 The stranger looked over at Jieller and after a moment focused on him. “Sorry, I’m Eloim and I’m not talking to myself. I’m talking to my ring.” He held up his hand to show a ring on his finger. “It holds the consciousness of the Demon Alexia.”

If Jieller had been human, that would have been the point where the blood drained from his face. All vampires knew of the demon Empress after she had been used by the newly established church in Rome to clear the catacombs and hidden temples, killing hundreds of their kind in a single day - including many of the eldest vampires known.
 “I think you may have spent too much time alone and you are not right in the head Eloim.” Jieller said carefully; which got a huge grin from Eloim. 
“One of my other sisters, Karla used to say that all the time.” Eloim said cheerfully.

So the end of part 2. Hope you enjoyed, upvotes and comments welcome.
All images are mine.

Part 1 is here:
https://steemit.com/writing/@alienbutt/the-knights-of-blood-vampire-eloim-book-4-part-1