Author's Notes: Hello everyone. Thanks for the reviews. As always I own nothing but the characters I create.
Karl adjusted his collar for what seemed the hundredth time. After Marx had given him his orders he had provided Karl with a suit of clothes of the latest fashion. Afterwards he had gone down and exited the servants' stairs to find a two horse carriage waiting for him. As per his instructions Karl told the driver to take him to the home of Chief Secretary Hildar.
Through means that he did not share with Karl Marx knew that Hildar himself would not be at home that night but that his wife Margret, the vampire and Karl's target, would be. Marx had considered having Karl dispose of the husband as well but had finally decided not to. The man was well connected and his death would lead to too many questions being asked. Besides, he was a valuable resource to the Lahmians; no doubt they would send another of their kind to replace Margret, enabling Marx and his associates to monitor her.
Upon arriving at the large house in the best part of town he went up the steps and knocked. The door was opened by a middle age butler.
"May I help you sir?" He asked in deferential tone of voice.
"Yes," said Karl, trying to sound haughty and self-important; "I have a message for Frau Hildar from her good friend Sister Holst."
This had been Marx's idea. He had learned from his friend that the two were often in each other's company. Ostensibly, it was due to Frau Hildar's interest in Sister Holst's charitable work; but in reality it was so the two could meet and exchange messages. In her guise as a priestess of Shallya Holst could go anywhere in the city, from the highest quarters to the lowest slums. This made her the perfect candidate to oversee communication and coordination of all the Lahmians in the city.
The butler bowed and ushered him in. In the hallway he took Karl's hat and coat. He politely asked Karl to wait there while he announced him. Presently, the butler returned and ushered Karl up a grand staircase and showed him into a ladies sitting room.
The room had wood panels and heavy scarlet drapes. The furniture was made of some white wood and appeared gilded. Sitting on a chair, with a maid brushing her hair, was the lady of the house. She looked to be about thirty-five, of medium height and fair complexion and long blond hair. She wore clothes that look like they cost more than his whole village.
She did not fool him though. He could smell it, the stink of the grave. She was one of them.
"You have a message for me from dear Sister Holster?" She asked in a high class tone of voice.
"No." Said Karl. He felt the vampire stiffen.
"What?" She said, her voice becoming cold and harsh.
Karl smiled and allowed just his canines to extend. "The lords of Sylvania send their regards." So saying; he sprang forward. As he did so he drew the rapier Marx had given him. As the blade left its sheath he saw the glint of silver along the blade.
As soon as he had spoken she had sprung to her feet, knocking the startled maid to the floor. Her own canines extended and her fingernails became claws. Hissing like a feral cat she sprang at him. This proved to be a mistake on her part. While he was not at his strongest in his human form; Karl was at least as strong as she was and the sword gave him reach.
It took her in the throat, the silver burning her flesh as it slid in. She fell to the ground, injured but still hissing and spitting. He went down on one knee and thrust his hand into her chest. His hand broke through her ribs and wrapped around her heart. Karl tore it loose and, tossing it to the ground, shredded it with his sword.
"Mistress!" Screamed the maid; running to the side of the corpse. Karl, his blood up, had the urge to attack the girl as well; but he restrained himself. Marx had said he needed to leave at least one survivor who could tell the Lahmians when they investigated that a vampire, or at least a creature that looked like a vampire, and claiming to be from Sylvania had been the one to kill Hilder. When they learned of the other deaths planned for tonight they would conclude they were all the work of the same killer and that killer served the Von Carsteins.
Turning, he walked from the room. As he left the butler came running, no doubt drawn by the screams. Karl just grabbed him and threw him to the side. He left the house and entered the carriage.
His next target was Elisa Roseanna, the mistress of General Hobbs.
He exited the carriage several streets away from the house. Keeping to the shadows he approached till he was across the street from the house. There he crouched down and waited. Marx had told him that General Hobbs and Roseanna attended the theater nearly every night. He figured that an ambush along the way would be easier than attacking them in their house.
Marx's instructions here had been clear, Hobbs was to die. He had given military information and advice to the Lahmians and that was not to be tolerated. Furthermore; he was soon to be placed in charge of the city's defenses, such a position could not be held by one controlled by the vampires.
He was not there long before the gate opened and a carriage rolled out. It turned right and headed down the street, Karl in pursuit. The carriage set a brisk pace but Karl had little difficulty keeping pace, fortunately there were few people about at that hour. Still, Karl had to act fast. They were rapidly approaching the wall that separated the homes of the upper class from the rest of the city. If he waited too long to strike then the guards would be alerted by the noise and he did not want them getting involved.
Finally, as the carriage slowed to make a turn, he saw his chance and struck. He burst from the shadows and sprinted forward. As he did so he drew the dagger that was the companion of the rapier, its shorter length was better suited for the confines of the carriage and like the rapier the dagger was edged with silver.
He must not have been as silent as he thought he was because the carriage driver turned and looked in his direction.
"What are you…" he began and then saw the dagger in the moon light; "Attack! We're being attacked!"
Karl, with a final spring, burst into the carriage, but he had lost the element of surprise and the occupants were waiting for him. There were two people in the carriage; one looked like a girl of about twenty dressed in a bright red dress with an elaborate mass of blond curls held up by several jeweled combs.
What grab Karl's attention most, however, was the dagger that she was trying to gut him with. Despite her rich cloths and general appearance of being a rich man's plaything she wielded her blade with the skill of a veteran alley-fighter. In fact he quickly realized she was a better knife fighter than he was, especially since he was only half-way into the carriage and had to use one hand to hold onto the side to keep from falling out, and received several cuts to his arm, hand and face.
With all his attention focused on the vampire he forgot all about the other occupant. At least, he forgot about the other occupant until the individual in question stabbed him in the face with a rapier. Fortunately, Karl had been jerking his head to avoid another dagger thrust, so the blade, instead of going into his eye, only scrapped along his forehead.
Whipping his head from side to side, in an effort to get the blood out of his eyes, Karl took in his second attacker out of the corner of his eye. The man was dressed in what appeared to be some kind of uniform. He seemed about fifty with receding gray hair and a small moustache.
Just then things took an unexpected turn. The carriage jerked to a stop and the driver jumped down and shot off, screaming for the Watch. While Karl had wanted to avoid having the Watch getting involved, it was not all bad. With the carriage halted he was able to stand up and use both his hands.
When the vampire struck again Karl raised his left hand, palm up. Her dagger went right thru his hand. He yelped in pain but kept his head and twisted his hand down and to the side. This made the injury worse and sent fresh waves of pain through his hand and arm but it achieved his objective. The dagger was jerked from her hand and she fell forward. Seizing his chance, Karl lunged forward. Dropping his dagger he seized her head in both hands and tore into her throat with his teeth. He kept biting and tearing until her head fell from her shoulders.
"Elisa!" Hobbs screamed in a voice filled with grief and rage. He lunged at Karl with his sword. His strike, while delivered with all the strength the man could muster, was poorly aimed and failed to hit anything vital. Still, it hurt and Karl, his blood up already, turned on the man.
He seized the man by the arm with his left hand and with his right hand tore the man's throat out. As he let the body fall to the ground he heard the clatter of boots approaching. Turning, he saw that the carriage driver had returned and with him were four men in the uniform of the City Watch.
"Sigmar save us!" Said one of them in a terrified voice, gazing at the mutilated corpses.
Karl longed to attack them. The wolf howled, demanding more blood. But these men were not his enemies. They were his fellow defenders of the Empire, though they did not know it. Turning he dashed into the darkness.
He had one final target; Erika Holst, the false priestess. He was glad this was his last task for the night was nearly over, dawn was not far away and he did not fancy having the entire city after him. He wanted this done and done quickly.
As his cloths were torn and bloody he did not bother trying to gain an audience. He clambered onto the roof of the building employed by the vampire as a hospice. He could smell the vampire, she was there. Fortunately, while he could also smell humans, all those scents were old. The vampire was alone, excellent.
He swung down and crashed through a window; determined to surprise the creature and slay it swiftly. This hope was disappointed when a blast of magical energy struck him full in the chest, slamming hard against the wall. As he shook his head to clear it he heard footsteps approaching.
Turning to his left he saw the vampire approaching. She looked like a woman of forty; clad in the vestments of the Sisters of Shallya with a face that radiated a calmness and serenity. Or, it would do so, if it were not fixed in a sneer that was a mixture of anger and contempt.
"So; not content to murder my sister Margaret, you have come for me as well. You Carstein filth should stay in your castles and terrorize peasants. The servants of the Queen are not so easily intimidated."
Karl got to his feet and drew his sword. "Your knowledge of this evenings activities is impressive; I don't suppose you would care to tell me how you found out so quickly?" He said in a questioning voice.
She snorted. "I think not." She said, in a superior tone of voice.
"Ah, well," Karl said; "Though I don't mind telling you that your information is not complete. Elisa Roseanna, I fear, has also moved on; or, to be more accurate, has been moved on."
Her eyes grew dark with hate. "You'll pay for this, whelp, you and your masters."
"We'll see about that." Said Karl as he advanced on her, hoping to take her before she could cast another spell; he found most casters had to stay pretty stationary when they cast, so hopefully he could reach her in time. She smiled a smile as cold as the depths of the sea.
"Yes, we will see indeed." Maybe it was something in her voice, or maybe she cocked her head to look to the side. Whatever the reason; he suddenly felt dander approaching. He threw himself forward and just in time.
Fast as a snake a blade, like his edged with silver, shot into the space where his throat had been a moment before. There was a second vampire! Karl cursed and wondered if Helena did not know about the second one or if she had 'forgotten' to tell them, if the later she would pay.
His attacker stepped into the light and he got a good look at her. She was tall, as tall as he was. She looked about twenty with Estalian look to her; she had gray eyes and brown hair cut short as a boy's. She wore riding boots, britches and a white shirt.
What Karl paid most attention to, however, were her weapons. Like him, she wielded a rapier; unlike him in her left hand, as opposed to the dagger he had, she wielded a main gauche, a weapon specifically designed to be used in the left had as a parrying weapon. From her stance and the way she held her weapons Karl could see that her skill with them was far superior to his own.
When she struck it became even more obvious that this was so. He had thought himself fast but he seemed to move as slowly compared to her as the Orcs and Beastmen did to him. She seemed to flow and glide and the speed and skill with which she wielded her weapons was almost beautiful to watch.
Or it would have been; if those weapons were not being used to try to kill him. They traded blows for several minutes and he did not land a single blow on her. Every time he struck at her she either glided out of the way or caught his blows with her main gauche; which she would then follow up with by twisting his blade to the side and striking out with her own.
Unlike his own blows, which were powerful but lacked skill, hers' were a vision of what a fencer should be and soon he was bleeding from a half dozen cuts. Though none of the blows in question were fatal they were all caused by silver and soon he began to feel woozy and sick. Though he knew his wounds would eventually regenerate it was slower with wounds caused by silver and he was losing a lot of blood. That was her strategy, he realized, it was just like the bull-fights of her homeland. She was not going for a single fatal stroke; but rather setting him up for the kill by first weakening him with a number of smaller wounds.
It was working too. He knew there was no way he could defeat her like this, the difference in their levels of skill were just too great. He had to change the shape of the battle.
He began to back-peddle, trying to put some distance between them. Off to the side Holst laughed in mockery. "Dear me, whatever were your masters thinking sending an untrained runt like you? Or do they even know you are here? Perhaps you thought to make a name for yourself by killing us. If so, you failed. Isabella, finish him!"
Isabella lunged at him, blade aimed for his heart. He jumped to the side and threw his dagger. It missed of course but it enabled him to put a few feet between them. He took a deep breath and began to perform the change.
It was more difficult than usual; it was made so by the presence of silver in his wounds. But he would not be denied and the wolf was eager as well. He lunged forward; claws slashing at his opponent, she dodged it and he received another wound but he was able to complete his change.
He now towered over her and he lunged forward. Her response took him by surprise; instead of panicking she remained calm, her only change was to move back several feet so as to put herself outside of his reach; and so the fight resumed.
He found to his surprise the fight had not changed much at all. Every other time the change had pretty much wrapped up the fight for him; here his opponent was proving just as difficult as before. While he was now faster than before and her left-handed weapon had difficulty cutting through his thick hide to reach flesh; she still managed to avoid most of his blows; for while she could no longer turn aside his blows she could ensure those that did hit her were only grazes.
More often he would strike at her with clawed hand or snap at her with his jaws and she would no longer be there and a new wound would suddenly sprout somewhere on his body. He saw that strength alone would not win this fight, he needed a plan. Then one came to him.
Throughout the fight Holst had not intervened in the fight; he had had been confused by this as her magic could have ensured her get's victory. When he had had the chance he had looked her way and had seen her watching the fight as one would watch a play. He had also noticed that Isabella always moved to keep herself between Holst and him which gave him an idea.
He struck at Isabella again and as before she dodged. Instead of pursuing her, however, he turned and dashed toward Holst. Holst gave a cry of alarm and moved to get out of the way. In a flash Isabella was between them but this time she could not move out of the way of his charge because that would expose Holst to attack. As he closed with her she thrust out with her sword. His hand came out and caught the blade. He howled in pain as the blade sliced through his flesh to scrape along the bones of his hand and fingers.
His momentum carried him on and he crashed into her, his weight bearing them both to the ground. As they hit the ground he tore the sword from her hand and threw it away. As his head shot forward to bite her throat out she slashed with her other weapon, slicing his nose open.
He yelped in pain as blood filled his nose and leaked down his throat. Without thinking he let go of Isabella and grasped his nose with both hands. She took advantage of this by grasping her remaining weapon in both hands and driving it into his stomach
His roar this time was more rage than pain. While the blade was not long enough to go deep enough in to cause damage it did cause a great deal of pain; which, combined with all the pain had had endured throughout the fight was making it harder and harder to focus. He released his ruined nose with his left hand; his right still hurt abominably, and brought it down on her head. It slammed her head back onto the floor and he heard bones break.
Before he could make sure she was dead he heard chanting, apparently Holst had decided to join the fight after all. An active enemy took priority; he sprang from Isabella's still form and rushed at Holst. She completed her spell and a bolt of magical energy shot towards him. He dropped to the floor to avoid it and it sailed over him, heat from it singeing his fur. Not bothering to get to his feet he shot forward on all fours.
She did not try to cast again and seemed intent on getting away. She was fast but not as fast as Isabella. He rushed up and with a swipe of his hand knocked her off her feet. She screamed and struggled but it did her no good. He planted his knees on her back, grabbed her head with both hands and pulled. With a sickening, wet snapping sound her head tore from her shoulders.
With the fight won all the adrenaline drained from Karl and he slumped to the ground. He lay there panting as he slowly caught his breath and the pain of his wounds eased to a throb. Presently he turned to look at Isabella. Before he left he would have to make sure she was dead, slowly he started to get to his feet.
Just then a pounding was heard at the door. "Sister Holst! This is the Watch! There have been reports of a disturbance here! Open the door!"
Karl cursed. Not now! Not now! He thought. Just then the pounding increased.
"Open the door or we shall force it open!" The Watch immediately put action to threat and Karl heard the thud of an axe striking the door. He had no choice; he could not get into a fight with the Watch. He turned and threw himself out a window. He hit the ground running.
As dawn was breaking he had to sacrifice his dignity and return to his human form and crouch in an alley naked. As he crouched there he listened to the sound of the Watch as they continued to try to force their way in. After several more blows the door gave way. They rushed in. He soon heard their cries as they found Holst's body. He could not tell if they had found Isabella's body as well, or even if there was a body to find.
He had to get back report to Marx; but how was he to get from here to where Marx was as he was stark naked? Just then he heard a rustling behind him. He whirled around, half expecting to find Isabella coming for him. Instead he found himself looking at the sleeping form of a drunk wrapped in a soiled cloak. Less than a minute later Karl was dashing down the alley, the cloak wrapped around him.
He first went to the run down house where he had first met Marx. There, as he had hoped, he found more cloths. Afterwards; he followed his own scent back to the house where the night had begun. As before the back door was unlocked. The party was obviously long over and the only people he saw were servants cleaning up. He reached the room upstairs and slipped.
Marx was sitting there as if he hadn't moved since Karl had left. He turned to look at Karl as he slipped in and collapsed into a chair. He arched his eyebrow as Karl, without an invitation, grabbed the wine and began drinking it straight out of the bottle.
"Difficult night my boy?" He asked dryly.
"You could say that," said Karl as he searched the room for something to eat, he found suddenly he was quite hungry; "Where is the vampire?"
"She has retired for the day, Wilhelmina I keeping an eye on her, why?"
"I want to have a little talk with her."
"May I ask why?" Marx asked, his tone suggesting he wasn't really asking.
"She forgot to tell us a thing or two, that's why."
"What things?" Marx's tone had gone very hard.
"That Holst had a get, that's what."
"What?" Said Marx, his tone going even harder.
"Yes, a get, and the thing fought harder than that whole orc war band I fought back in my village!"
"But your mission was successful?" Marx pressed. Karl nodded and then proceeded to recount the night's events, leaving nothing out. When he had finished Marx sat back in his chair, deep in thought. At last he spoke. "Well done my boy, you fulfilled your duties admirably. Unfortunate that this other vampire may still be alive but the elimination of Holst was the primary objective there; and who knows, there may be away to turn this to our advantage." This last was said in a speculative voice and he was clearly talking more to himself than to Karl.
Eventually he returned his attention to Karl. "You have done well. I have no further need for you at present and it may be best if you left the city for a time. Doubtless the Lahmians have, or soon will have a description of you and will be scouring the city and the surrounding area looking for you. It would be best if you were gone from here and stayed gone till the hue and cry has died down. I will send for you when I have more work for you."
Taking the hint Karl rose to his feet and accepted the purse of coins Marx handed him. As he headed to the door he stopped and turned. "How do you think Holst knew about the earlier attack and what about Helena?"
"I have a theory about the first and will be looking into it. As for the vampire," here his voice grew cold; "I shall speak to it before it leaves the city and if I find it knew about the second vampire and failed to tell us it will learn that I am no more to be crossed than its former mistress."
Karl departed with a shudder.
Author's Notes: Hoped you all liked it. Was planning to kill Isabella but she grew on me while writing her so we may see her again. Regarding her homeland think Renaissance Spain. Please pray for Shawn and all who need it. Bye for now and may Jesus bless you all.