Chapter 14: Visitor

Alfred stared at the scene with horror. The idea of Herbert in a battle to the death with Charlotte? No. No, he didn't want that at all. But there was nothing he could do about anything. Magda, still standing behind Alfred, was just as tense as he was and gripped the back of Alfred's chair so tightly that he thought it might break under her hands.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Count Von Krolock asked, sounding surprised. He leaned forward a little in his seat and raised one of those impressive eyebrows at the defiant Charlotte.

"I am."

Seemingly bemused, Count Von Krolock shrugged. "Herbert? Would you like to accept? You don't have to; I don't have to allow this."

The grin that spread across Herbert's face was nothing short of terrifying. "Oh, yes. I will definitely accept."

"Then it is agreed. Angus, you will go first thing tomorrow night to our neighbor, Prince Radu, and inform him of what Charlotte has requested and invite him to bear witness to the trial. As her sire, he should bear witness. It will occur tomorrow night at midnight." Count Von Krolock nodded to Angus. "Return her to her cell and secure her. I will have arrangements made."

Once Charlotte was out of the room, Alfred said to Herbert, "What are thinking? You're going to fight her?!" Alfred looked earnestly up to Herbert's face and wanted to shake him. "She'll kill you!"

Herbert pouted. "Have you so little faith in me?"

Alfred boldly put a hand on Herbert's arm. "She was going to let everyone in the village get killed; she planned to kill your whole family. She's a monster! She isn't like you."

A slow, brilliant smile spread across Herbert's face. He almost appeared to glow with happiness. "This so sweet of you to say! But," he shrugged. "It's done now and can't be undone. So we'll just not worry about it, shall we?"

Stunned with disbelieve that Herbert could take the situation so lightly, Alfred looked at the count. "Are you really going to allow it?" Alfred whispered. "You'll let that horrible person fight Herbert?"

"It's not for you to concern yourself with," the count's smooth voice was gentle and, like Herbert's, held absolutely no concern at all. "Now, the hour grows late and I think we could all do with some rest. Alfred, you must be tired. Rest will do you well. Koukol has prepared a room for you that I hope you will find comfortable. Remember - this is your home, now. If you need or want something in your rooms, you need only ask."

Hopefully, Alfred momentarily forgot the trial by combat and asked, "And… is there a bed?"

"Yes, Alfred. You have a bed."

Alfred felt incredibly spoiled. He put a hand over his mouth to hide the ridiculously wide grin he was sure he was wearing and he felt like he could start bouncing with excitement. A bed just for him.

The count shook his head with amusement, "Herbert, tomorrow night you will take Alfred to the storage rooms and allow him to choose furnishings. I expect you to allow HIM to choose what he likes, not what you like. But, for now, show him to his rooms and let him get into a warm bed." He paused. "ALONE in a warm bed, Herbert. I must speak with you about the combat trial as you've never been involved in one."

Herbert sniffed. "Of course I'll let him go to bed alone, father. I've been very good, you know. I've only stolen one kiss since he got here. Well… two if you count a kiss on the hand." Herbert didn't waste a minute. He took a candle in a candlestick and lit before he gently tugged Alfred out of the library. "Alfred, dear, father is right. The sun will rise very shortly and we must get you settled." Herbert stopped abruptly and turned to smile at Alfred. "Darling, you really are going to stay with us, aren't you? I was so happy when father told me. We're going to have a grand time. There are a lot of old things in storage that you can use for right now, but Koukol is a splendid carpenter and he can make just about anything if you want something new! He can make you a new bed or a wardrobe or…"

"Why aren't you worried?"

"About what?"

"Charlotte!"

"Oh, her." He shrugged carelessly. "I'm sure that will all work out. Now, we're also going to have to think about new clothes for you, because I can tell you right now that father is NOT going to allow you to appear in front of people wearing what you have now. We do go into society at times and father occasionally invites others here, as you know from the ball. So, I really do think red is your color, but a few things in other colors will be needed, too."

"I don't care about clothes. Can't you call off the fight? Just make her go away?"

"It could be done, but father won't. That would be seen as a loss of face and he won't have that."

Herbert didn't take Alfred far from the library. It seemed that thought the castle was immense, Count Von Krolock had arranged all the living areas to be together in the same hall with the library. "I wanted to give you my rooms," Herbert said, sadly. "But father says it will be better for you to have your own and that way you can have a bit of privacy. Now, father's rooms are just beyond the library on the left and mine are up there on the right," Herbert pointed straight ahead of them. "And Angus is beyond mine on the left. So if you ever need someone, there are people all around. Of course, we all sleep in the crypt below during the day, but during the night you might find any of us in our rooms, though Angus likes to spend his time in the village and father is, more often than not, to be found in the library."

Alfred stood there and listened with a growing feeling of dread in his stomach. Herbert wasn't taking Charlotte at all seriously! And probably just because she was a girl! Charlotte was clearly strong and dangerous and more than willing to kill to get what she wanted. But how could he criticize the count for allowing the trial by combat or Herbert for accepting?

Herbert pushed open the door of the room he'd picked as Alfred's. The room was dominated by a large bed with very tall posts on the corners. Blankets and two pillows had been piled on it. The floors were clean and there was a little table next to the bed with a wash basin on it. On the bed, Alfred found his own clothes all washed and neatly folded.

Herbert looked around the room with disdain. "This is dreary. There's not a lick of comfort here. You should stay in my rooms until we can get this one done up."

"No," Alfred admired the room with great pleasure. He didn't want to leave the room at all. His heart was thudding rapidly. His room. It was HIS room. The count said so. It could be Alfred's forever, if he wanted it. A bed. A real bed and it was just for him. Alfred walked to the bed and put a hand on it. It was just as nice as Herbert's bed. And he'd been promised furniture – maybe a rug and…and… he didn't even know what else he should dare hope for! "It's perfect. It's absolutely perfect!"

Herbert smiled. "Well, you're easy to please, I have to say that much."

"But… oh, but it's wonderful!"

"I'm glad it makes you happy. I can't really stay; the sun will rise very soon. Are you sure you want to stay here? You can use my bed if you change your mind. It would make me very happy to think of you sleeping in my bed. I'm sure that thought would give me very nice dreams."

"Thank you, but I think I'd like to sleep here." But the idea of sleeping in Herbert's bed made Alfred flush. It was kind of Herbert to offer, but - goodness! – didn't that just give him a squirmy feeling in his stomach!

Herbert sighed. "If that's what you want." Herbert knelt by the fireplace, already loaded with wood, and used a candle to light it. After a few moments a cheery little fire crackled on the grate and the room began to warm.

As they were alone, Alfred ventured to ask, again, "Would you like blood?"

Herbert whipped his head around so fast that his long hair billowed out around his head for a moment. "What?"

"Well, I'm supposed to give it to you, aren't I? And you were just hurt terribly, but you told Angus you didn't want my blood and I don't know why. You can have it." Alfred just hoped Herbert wouldn't get too excited. Count Von Krolock could control himself, but Herbert had shown that he got very excitable around Alfred. Despite Alfred's reservations, he found that he didn't like that Herbert had refused his blood. After all, his blood was as good as any! Even better, according to the count. Why wouldn't Herbert want it? So Alfred held out a hand to Herbert. "I don't like you being hurt and if my blood can - "

"I'm not hurt anymore. Father healed all that." Herbert was on his feet so quickly that Alfred hadn't even seen him move. He took Alfred's outstretched hand with both of his and brought Alfred's hand to his chest. "I won't take your blood, darling… but I do want it."

"What?"

Herbert hesitated and started stroking Alfred's hand, like he was holding a little mouse. Finally, he let out a sigh. "I saw. The picture you drew of me? I saw it. I know I scared you that night when I tripped you and tried to bite you and I know you have every reason to think of me like… like I'm a monster. But I don't like. I don't like that you think of me like that." Herbert had a pained look on his face. "So, I decided that I will restrain myself for you. I haven't been at all improper, have I? As I told father, I only stole one kiss and that was because I was so very happy to see you recovering and it was only a kiss on the cheek. I'm being very polite. Anyway, I decided that along with using my manners, I wouldn't take a drop of blood from you until you truly trusted me. I can wait."

"But… aren't you hungry? You'll have to fight with Charlotte – to the death! If you have my blood then you won't be distracted by the hunger."

"I find that earning your trust is far more important than satisfying my hunger."

And then Herbert was gone.

Left alone in Herbert's wake, blinked dumbly at the closed door. He had a funny, fluttery feeling his stomach that he couldn't have identified to save his life.

Alfred considered putting his own clothes back on, but he couldn't figure out how to do the braces with only one hand. So he stayed in Angus' clothes and hoped Angus would be patient and wait to get them back until Alfred could have someone help him with his braces. Alfred sat on the bed and delighted in the softness. There were three blankets on the bed and two pillows. It felt so luxurious that he wanted nothing more to lay down and fall asleep. It seemed like forever since he'd last slept. But he had promised the count that he would eat and he'd said he gotten permission to clean the kitchen. So, after quite some time of enjoying the bed and warming himself by the fire, he headed down to the kitchen.

The sun had risen. There was a window in the hall and Alfred could see the morning sun shining in, dust motes floated gently in the sunbeam. The castle was utterly silent and strangely peaceful. He could see the village from the castle and a small river beyond the village. The knowledge that everyone was asleep far below the castle was an odd feeling - there was no danger at all of running into anyone in the castle.

With the sunlight streaming in through a large window and an open door that led to the back gardens of the castle, Alfred was appalled by how terrible the kitchen actually looked. There was a clean counter which Koukol must have used to prepare his meals, but everything else was a disaster. Alfred tried to clean, but sweeping with only one useable arm was impossible. He nearly gave up when the broom was snatched out of his hand and he spun around to find Koukol standing behind him with a disapproving frown.

"The count said I could clean," Alfred protested. Though he knew the count probably had meant for Alfred to wait until his arm was healed.

Koukol rolled his eyes. "No."

"But he said I could!"

Without replying, Koukol put the broom back in the little cupboard Alfred had found it in, then, with a hand on Alfred's shoulder, guided him to the table. He pointed imperiously at a chair, silently telling Alfred to sit. When he was satisfied with Alfred's obedience, Koukol fetched a plate of food and set it down in front of Alfred.

"Eat."

"I was going to. But I'm not lying, the count did say I could clean; he won't be angry with me."

If Koukol cared much about what Count Von Krolock said, he didn't give any sign.

So Alfred ate his fill until he thought he might burst. When his plate was empty, he stood up to take it to the sink to wash it, but Koukol took it from him and glared until Alfred sat down. It made Alfred so nervous that he asked, "You don't mind if I help clean, do you? I won't if you don't want me to."

Koukol waved a careless hand in the air. "Help when better. Rest arm, now."

Alfred was pleased to find that the longer he spoke with Koukol, the easier it was to understand his speech. "It is feeling a lot better. It hardly hurts at all."

"Still broken."

"Well, yes, but it's still a lot better. I'm sure I can do something to help."

"Sleep."

It was a good idea, but he didn't think he'd get any sleep. So he shook his head and told Koukol, "I'm too worried to sleep. Maybe they didn't tell you, yet, but something terrible is going to happen; Herbert has to fight a horrible vampire woman!"

Again, Alfred didn't get a reaction he judged to be satisfactory. Koukol laughed, spit on the floor, and then scratched his armpit.

"How can everyone be so calm about this?"

Koukol chuckled. "Herbert will win."

"Oh, I don't know. He's not nearly as horrible as that Charlotte! I'll bet she even cheats!"

"Witnesses."

"She'll find a way even with witnesses, I'm sure."

"Don't worry."

"Everyone keeps saying that." Alfred knew he was a little too close to whining, so he took a deep breath to calm himself.

"They are right." Koukol finished washing up and tossed his dish towel on the counter next to the sink before he faced Alfred, again. "Bed."

"I really don't think I'll fall asleep and it would be better to do something practical. I know it's hard with my arm the way it is, but I can do something else. Maybe I could tidy the library for the count."

That, apparently, was the end of Koukol's patience. He grabbed Alfred's ear and pulled him to his feet. Alfred yelped and had no choice but to follow as Koukol led him out of the kitchen by his ear. They went out of the kitchen and right back to the room that had been given to him. Koukol threw back the blankets on the bed and tugged at Alfred until he got into the bed.

"Sleep."

Alfred realized he would get nowhere protesting and stayed where he'd been put. He really was very tired. He hadn't slept in such a long time and his arm had started to ache, again. Thanks to Koukol, his belly was full and he was warm. Despite his earlier words that he wouldn't be able to sleep for worrying, he almost at once began to feel his eyelids grow heavy. The bed felt just as wonderful as it had looked when Herbert first brought Alfred to it.

"Mister Koukol," Alfred said. "The count told Angus to bring another vampire here – Prince Radu. Have you met him?"

Koukol shook his head and went to stir up the fire.

"I suppose the count will have to be a good host." It didn't escape Alfred that a good host had to provide for their guest, which meant feeding them. Alfred was very aware that feeding vampires was his place, now. He wanted to ask Koukol if he thought the count would make Alfred feed the guest, but it seemed an awkward question so he said nothing.

Alfred fell asleep before Koukol left the room.

When Alfred woke, night had fallen. He left his room to search for everyone. In the hall outside his room, he looked out the window and saw, by the light of two torches burning on either side of the castle's gates, Angus walking into the castle alongside a stranger. The stranger was very thin and had a long, narrow nose and blond hair. His face was set in a furious grimace. In a few brisk steps they were beyond the torchlight and in the castle. It must have been Prince Radu, Alfred realized.

Alfred found the count and Herbert in a large, empty room. It was stone – floor, ceiling, and walls – and felt even colder than the rest of the castle. The count and Herbert were speaking when Alfred approached.

"I think he's here!" Alfred said, urgently when the count stopped speaking. "I saw Angus walking with a man. I think it's that prince, but I haven't seen him before, so maybe I'm wrong. They'll be here any minute."

Count Von Krolock seemed pleased. "Excellent. Herbert, you will keep your attention on Charlotte. She's caused me enough aggravation; I won't have more of it. Don't even think about Prince Radu; Angus has been told to keep an eye on him and he will ensure that there is no interference."

Herbert was dressed, not in his favored finery, but simple loose trousers and a tunic. His long hair had been braided and pinned to the back of his head to keep it out of the way. "Don't worry, father. I'll see this over with quickly enough."

Alfred lightly tapped Count Von Krolock's arm. "And what should I do, sir?"

Count Von Krolock told him, "You should go back to your room."

"What?"

"You will go to your room and stay there until the trial is over. In your room you will practice your reading. As soon as Radu takes his leave of us, you will read to me and then we will see where your knowledge of history stands." He handed Alfred a small, thin book that appeared to be another poetry book. "There's no need at all for you to be witness to what will happen here tonight – it will be messy and unpleasant, I can assure you of that."

"Yes, sir. I understand." He wasn't happy, but he did understand his orders. He was about to leave, when he paused and hesitantly asked the count, "Ummm… will I have to give your guest blood?"

"No. I don't even want him to see you. If he requests to be fed, I will provide for him, but he won't have you, Alfred."

Alfred let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, sir."

Back in his room, Alfred couldn't concentrate enough to read, despite the count's order. The whole situation was nerve-wracking and he couldn't stop himself thinking that somehow, Charlotte would get the better of Herbert. It was too terrible to imagine. He paced the room and made sure the bed was tidied. Eventually, he became so agitated with his own imagination about what might be happening that he couldn't help himself and peeked out the door.

Herbert and Angus stood at the door of Herbert's room. Oh! What a sight Herbert was. He was splattered with blood from the top of his head to the soles of his shoes. It looked like someone had taken a large bucket of blood and just thrown it on him! Yet, there he stood smiling and laughing with his brother, clearly unhurt. He'd won. Herbert and Angus spoke to one another for a moment before Angus turned and left and Herbert went into his room.

Herbert was happy, Alfred realized. Happy that he'd killed Charlotte. While Alfred was relieved that they wouldn't have to worry about her again, he couldn't imagine being happy to kill anyone as, apparently, Herbert was.

As soon as the hall emptied, Alfred crept out of his room. He found that he wasn't frightened. After all, Herbert had won which meant the danger was gone. But Alfred was still troubled. It was one thing to kill when it was necessary, but that didn't mean a person ought to enjoy it. Herbert had been savage in his defense of the village but that had been heroic. Even the fact that he'd obviously killed Charlotte was no terrible thing as she'd plotted death for his whole family. But to take pleasure in killing... only a cruel person could enjoy killing and Herbert - silly, flirty Herbert - wasn't cruel. At least, Alfred hadn't thought he was cruel.

Alfred left his room with a clean conscience. It wasn't disobedience; the count had told him to stay in his room during the trial by combat and, clearly, that was over or Herbert would have still been down there.

The night was bright with the moon lighting Alfred's way when he walked to the stables. It seemed like it would be a quiet place to think for a while. Dusty was asleep when Alfred looked over the gate of his stall. The other horses were awake and Alfred wondered if they'd learned, from being trained by vampires, to be awake during the night rather than the day. It would be logical. With twin whinnying from Buttercup and Heather, Dusty woke and looked up at Alfred with a curious little snuffling noise. Alfred happily climbed over the gate then sat next to Dusty in his bed of straw.

"Herbert will show me how to take care of you," Alfred said, aloud while he ran his hands over Dusty's long, shaggy mane. "I'm sure he won't smell like blood by then. Do you have food?" He really wasn't sure what or how much horses should eat. Hay would probably be a good bet. A look around showed that, yes, someone had provided food and water for Dusty. In the future, Alfred firmly told himself, he would tend to Dusty. He'd never been responsible for another creature's life and the weight of that was awesome.

Being alone with the horses had helped settle Alfred's frayed nerves. The calm of the stables with the earthy smell of straw and the body-heat given off by Dusty was so very restful that he thought maybe he would, in fact, sleep.

Buttercup and Heather very suddenly began snorting and stomping their feet in agitation. It made Alfred look up and when he did he saw the blonde stranger looking down at him from over the stall's gate. He was dressed as finely as Herbert, but he was small, really not much taller than Alfred, and thinly built. He had a narrow face and a small, thin mouth.

Shakily, Alfred stood up to face Count Von Krolock's guest. He put his hands behind his back and lowered his eyes. "G-good evening, sir."

Prince Radu didn't smile. "So… you would be Von Krolock's pet."

As Alfred had heard the count call him that several times, he couldn't deny it. However, when Count Von Krolock called Alfred 'pet' it always seemed affectionate. When the same word came from Prince Radu, there was no warmth in it at all. Still, Alfred nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Get over here."

Swallowing hard, Alfred did as he was told, climbing back over Dusty's stall door, but he was only half-way over when all the horses started to go mad. There was furious neighing and kicking and stomping. Dusty was bucking up and down so furiously that all four hooves left the ground at times. Buttercup seemed to be trying to kick down the stall door and Heather reared up on her hind legs, pawing at the air.

It was so strange a reaction that Alfred froze and looked around at the horses in astonishment. For all that he was afraid of the large horses, they had never behaved in so violent a manner.

A hand grabbed his arm and yanked and Alfred found himself on his knees before Prince Radu.

"I said," the prince coldly told Alfred. "Get over here."

Though he attempted to get to his feet, Prince Radu bent Alfred's arm at such an unnatural, painful angle, that Alfred was force to stay down. He didn't fight, fearing that the other's strength could easily break his one good arm and then he would be in a world of trouble.

"I'm hungry."

Very slowly, Alfred looked up at the prince with dread. "No. His Excellency said not to give blood to anyone. I don't have to."

"I'm hungry!" His fangs were clearly visible. "My kin was taken from me this night. I will have at the satisfaction of blood." Quick as a striking snake, he lunged his face down and bit Alfred's arm.

It hurt!

Alfred let out a scream before Prince Radu slapped a hand hard across his mouth and stifled him. Just as the others who'd tasted Alfred's blood before had, Prince Radu almost at once stopped. He stood up straight and looked at Alfred with astonishment. Then, his eyes narrowed and he regarded Alfred with a frightening sort of greed. Instead of stopping, like the others had, Prince Radu brought Alfred's arm back up his face and drank some more. He couldn't still be hungry, Alfred knew, but still he kept at it, licking and sucking until, when he finally pulled away, his mouth was liberally covered with Alfred's blood. Prince Radu licked his lips and savored what he tasted.

"Such a treasure." Prince Radu's hand tightened painfully on Alfred's arm. "If you scream for help, I'll break your spine and you'll never walk, again."

It was enough of a threat to make Alfred go still as death. If he couldn't walk, what use would he be to the count… to anyone?

Without another word, Prince Radu gave a great tug on Alfred's arm that hauled him to his feet with such strength that he nearly pulled Alfred off the ground altogether. He walked out of the stables and, with his hand clamped around Alfred's forearm, gave Alfred no choice but to follow.

"Please," Alfred tried, tugging a little in a useless attempt to free his arm. "I can't leave. I told His Excellency I'd stay here."

"I am Prince Radu and you belong to me, now."

Prince Radu kept pulling Alfred towards the forest and Alfred wondered if he intended to walk all the way back to where he'd come from. No matter. Alfred didn't want to go with him. He had sudden, almost dizzying flash of righteous courage. Count Von Krolock had said Alfred could stay, wanted him to stay. He was the one Alfred owed his obedience to, now. And Alfred wanted to stay. He knew in that moment that he wanted to be nowhere on Earth so much as he wanted to stay at the castle.

Alfred gave a hard kick and caught Prince Radu's ankle with his foot, sweeping Prince Radu right off his feet. It was so unexpected that Prince Radu released Alfred's arm as he fell to the ground. Alfred, free, turned on his heel and darted back towards the castle. He'd only taken a half–a-dozen steps before he was grabbed from behind and spun around to face Prince Radu.

With a sneer, Prince Radu struck Alfred hard across the head. There was a blinding pain and the world spun before Alfred's vision went dark.

To be continued…