Chapter 12: Schemes

By the time the Librarian awoke in the private study that served as his room, the fire had gone out and the other side of his bed was empty.

Slowly, Bernadotte pushed himself upright and ground the heel of his hand into his left eye, or lack thereof. It ached horribly in the cold, as it had since he lost it…how long had it been now? Ten years? Fifteen? He sighed and glanced toward the rumpled sheets where Draculina had slept. Before the world went to hell, his lover would have stayed with him throughout the night, but now…she had become so distant from him this past year. Ever since Lisa died, since Adrian disappeared, and as her father grew more and more malicious, she'd begun to retreat into herself.

And so had he.

Yet he had hoped. Something of Seras' old self had emerged when the council convened last night—no, when they had finally discovered her brother's whereabouts. The cloying veil of sadness that had drifted over her eyes had lifted and she had become calculating, and her willpower and some measure of her pride was restored, ready to look forward with hope. So he had seen when they had retreated back into the library at dawn, trusting the stone walls and the rows of bookshelves to prevent their being overheard. There they began to weigh the individual intentions and ambitions in the castle. Given the tone of the war hall, Bernadotte doubted any of Dracula's Generals remained truly loyal to him. Though the king's regime of terror had kept them subservient for centuries, tempting questions had arisen in the court of intrigue: Could Dracula be dethroned? Was it worth the risk?

Bernadotte sighed as he rose and dressed himself. Of all the vampires who'd come to the castle, it was clear Carmilla had the greatest designs in scheming for power, but it was unclear how many and who she had swayed over to her side. Godbrand for sure. Maybe Dragoslav, though the Librarian and Seras could easily see the old vampire lord humoring the countess while it suited him. He was centuries older and very influential in terms of land and power, not to mention probably still smarting over Dracula annexing his territories. It wouldn't be a surprise if Dragoslav followed Carmilla's plan, whatever it was, until their master was overthrown, only to betray her at the last minute and seize the throne for himself.

Throne was such a human term, Bernadotte thought as he dressed himself and made his way out of his room and into the corridor beyond the archive.

After Dragoslav, he and Seras had discussed the possibility of Cho proving an enemy. She was ancient, likely the oldest vampire in the castle, but it was so hard to guess her intentions with how damn silent she was. If she really was mute as some of the vampires thought, she used it well to her advantage.

As for Zufall, he had made reckless grabs for power in the past, contesting his neighbors for land only to be driven back in to his territory with his tail between his legs. Seras had called him the weakest of the Generals. A brilliant tactician to be sure but human habits kept him from rising any higher in the ranks.

"Do the Rajah and the Maharani still owe you allegiance?" Bernadotte had then asked. After all Seras' efforts to keep Integra Belmont and her hellspawn out of India, he would hope so.

"Raman annd Sharma were fledglings of the same vampire in India, and they were the only survivors of a massacre committed by the Mad Belmont. If we accept Adrian and his companions into our ranks, they may refuse to help us." And of course by Adrian's companions, they both knew she meant the unknown Belmont. After that, Seras had gone quiet with thought, as she'd done whenever the hunter resurfaced in their plans. That he was Integra and Trevor's grandson she was certain, but any family trees the castle archives had on hand were incomplete and did not document the final generation in its entirety. Since he'd done nothing to harm Adrian, they felt they could safely assume he would be amenable to vampire assistance, so in the end, it didn't really matter who he was.

But if Raman and Sharma could be persuaded, would it be worth risking their anger by forcing them to collude with a descendant of one who had destroyed their kin? If not, which odds were greater? Two vampire allies or a ragtag group of a young dhampir, a young Speaker who may or may not be a magician, and a man claiming to be a Belmont? Bernadotte knew who he would favor. "Perhaps it be better if Adrian were not involved, chère."

Seras had lifted her head, twisting her face into an ugly snarl, "His mother is dead and his father is mad. Adrian is already well involved."

"I know, but should he?" He raised his hands to placate her. "We are in the midst of staging an uprising against the most powerful vampire in the world, and already our allies are few and far between and subject to whether or not they will accept Belmont assistance. You may be willing to ally yourself with humans, love, but for the rest of the Generals, that's a tall order."

The furious resolve in her eyes wavered then and she turned away.

"Besides," the Librarian continued. "Are you sure you want to gamble your brother's life? He's not…well, he's…"

"Adrian is not weak."

"But he is inexperienced," he pointed out. "More than that…if Adrian comes, he will kill his own father. Do you want him to live with that memory?"

"You know my brother as well as I do. Do you really think we can stop him?"

…

He hadn't had an answer for her, Bernadotte recalled as he made his way along the freezing outer corridors. It must've been storming outside for it to be this cold.

After Seras had pointed out Adrian's determination, he'd reminded himself the young dhampir had been foolhardy enough to take on Dracula alone and nearly get himself killed for his trouble. In that moment, in wake of his mother's horrible death, he had been braver than his sister had been this entire past year. Stupid. It was definitely stupid. But brave. And now he had Belmont and Speaker allies. Perhaps there would be no turning back in his mind.

The Librarian shivered as a sudden blast of air swept past him and around the corner, he heard the heavy door to the ramparts creak open. Voices followed, "…confused."

Was that Hector? Bernadotte paused.

"And now he has brought us to war," answered the smooth voice a woman. The Countess of Styria. "Tell me, Hector. Are we to be led about by a mad, old man?"

Without a sound, Bernadotte turned his breath inward, calmed his heart to its slowest possible pace, and pressed himself into the shadows of the corridors, praying he wouldn't be noticed. He cast a minor cloaking spell over himself just in case, but it wouldn't save him if Carmilla's inhuman ears detected his presence. To his relief, though, she and Hector continued to speak, heedless of him.

"I don't know." Hector sounded uncertain. Lost.

"Hasn't it occurred to you that you the loyal forge master, are expendable? Are you the next to die, Hector?"

"What?" He heard the young man round on the vampiress.

"You're a human," Carmilla crooned. "The man you follow has sentenced your entire race to death, and yet here you are, wasting your life on his account. Mass genocide over a simple human pet he would not make a vampire." Her tone hardened. "I ask again, does that sound sane to you?"

"Not genocide," Bernadotte heard Hector falter. "A cull…he promised it would be humane."

Oh, you poor fool.

"Of course he did," said Carmilla, and he imagined her taking the young man's face in her white hands. The way a mother did with her child. "What other promises do you suppose Dracula's made to his Generals? Land and women to Godbrand? Power to Dragoslav? His soft-hearted fledgling her pick of the human pets she so cares for? What does all of it matter in the face of our own eventual starvation if we continue this path?"

Hector let out a breath of air as though he'd been holding it and his footsteps receded further into the corridor. Following after, Bernadotte realized they were heading for the forge master's workshop. "All I want is to do my work, Carmilla. I love my work."

You love your pets.

"I know," said the Countess. "And I have a way to ensure you will continue it. All you need do is ask yourself: Are you prepared to betray Dracula?"

Bernadotte widened his eye at his luck. Mon Dieu…. Then he heard a scuffle and risked peering around the corner in time to see Hector grasp Carmilla by her wrist and pull her past the door of his workshop.

"Are you mad? You can't say something like that in this place! What if—"

"It matters not if I'm heard," Carmilla sneered. "It's on the mind of every vampire here, except perhaps that bitch Draculina. Tell me what you value more? The decimation of the humans you so hate or leading about a broken vampire lord by the hand as if he were a lost child. This castle must land at Brăila, Hector."

"Why?"

"Because I wish it!"

Don't be obstinate, Carmilla. Tell me what I want to know. Bernadotte grit his teeth in frustration, although he figured if Brăila was so crucial to Carmilla's revolt, then no wonder she had been so angry when Seras had convinced the council to reject the idea. But what was so special about the river port? It would be difficult to launch an attack from there and he found it unlikely the Countess had a whole army lying in wait there. Styria lay to the west of Wallachia, and Brăila was to the east along the Black Sea. A squadron of vampire soldiers wouldn't have escaped Seras' notice, and bypassing their borders would have taken them through Dragoslav's…Bernadotte swallowed a curse. Exactly how long had Dragoslav been assisting Carmilla?

"If the castle lands at Brăila," Carmilla continued. "Dracula's loyal forces will rush out to conquer the city. While they are preoccupied, my forces will take the castle and overthrow the king. I will have saved your life, and you will be grateful. Then we, Hector, shall continue our great cause."

"Dracula is powerful. Draculina is powerful," said Hector. "Your forces may not be enough."

"Of course. Brilliant." Bernadotte felt Carmilla's smile like a serpent sliding across his feet. "Which is why I need you to do something for me."

Bernadotte took a deep breath and wondered if he should chance it and try to kill the vampiress. Remove her as an obstacle entirely. It wouldn't be difficult. According to the castle's copy of the Compendium of Vampyres, she had no remarkable healing ability. He fingered the blade he kept hidden in his cloak. One strike at her neck, if he was quick enough, and he could end it before her schemes came to fruition. Before she corrupted anyone else. Before Hector was beyond redemption. Yet he hesitated and grit his teeth. No. Carmilla was only one head of a four-headed Hydra. No doubt if she were to die unexpectedly, her sisters would have a alternative plan in place. If Seras' descriptions of her old friend Striga were accurate, there would be multiple alternatives in place.

He released the knife and, stretching his mouth open in the most exaggerated yawn ever, Bernadotte strolled into Hector's room. With his eye closed, he sensed Carmilla whip around, startled, but he hollered as though oblivious. "Hector! That book I loaned you…I need it back."

When he cracked his eye open and feigned surprise to see Carmilla, she was looking at him with a glare he could only describe as murderous annoyance. He smiled, offering no trace of what he'd overheard, and she said nothing. "Good evening, madame."

Hector, however…. "W-What book, Master Bernadotte?"

"Inner Circles of Hell and their Denizens," he answered and glanced around the workshop. Hector's undead pets were watching the three of them from the shadows of shelves and bookcases, small eyes that glinted in the moonlight. He saw the strange, little dog the young man called Cezar, the other countless living carcasses whose names he'd never cared to memorize, and the latest acquisitions to the menagerie: two beautiful skeletons of a doe and her fawn. Seras had found them the night she'd returned to the castle and had gifted them to the forge master.

Carmilla turned to Hector and fixed him with a stern glare. Think on my words. Say nothing. Then she swept from the room without another word.

Bernadotte smirked and leaned against the doorframe. "It sounded as though you needed a moment away from her."

Hector's eyes widened. "How much—?"

"Everything since you walked into zhe castle," he answered in a blithe tone, which served to unsettle the forge master even more. "So either all of it or just zhe tail end, but I zhink it's clear I heard enough. You really shouldn't speak so openly of treachery in zhis place, Hector."

He colored, a faint darkening of his already dusky cheeks, and Bernadotte did not fail to notice him reaching for his hammer. In turn, he slipped his hand into his cloak to again grasp his knife and drew a deep breath. Even with his various skills, he was not sure of his chances against a forge master magician, although he considered himself fortunate to be facing Hector and not Isaac. Slowly, he positioned his feet into a firmer stance and warily sized the younger man up. He had never seen Hector fight before, only witnessed his rituals in raising hell beasts, so he did not know what to expect. Come to think of it, Bernadotte realized with a sinking feeling he knew very little about Hector in general. He had only met him several months after Lisa had died, although Dracula had found him in Greece over a year ago. He grit his teeth.

As they stared each other down across the forge, the skeletal fawn suddenly came trotting forward and began to chew contently on the end of Hector's sleeve. Bernadotte froze, cocked his head, and grinned. "Well, zhat's fucking adorable."

Hector said nothing.

"Does it have a name yet?" Loosening his hold on the knife, Bernadotte straightened. "Come on, Hector, surely you've named it by now."

Still silence. Then a quiet mutter, "Diana."

"Ah, after the Roman goddess? Deer were sacred to her, non?"

Now, Hector seemed to relax and absently stroked the little deer's smooth skull. "Yes. And her mother is Artemis." Another moment of silence passed between them, and then, "Is it true, Master Bernadotte? Does Dracula intend to…all of us?"

"What gives you zhe idea I know?"

He flinched—actually flinched—hard as the forge master flung something at him, and it was only years of living amongst vampires and other supernatural creatures that saved him from being struck in the face by the foreign object. The fawn fled, as did the rest of Hector's collection of pets as the Librarian snapped his hand closed in midair. To his surprise, what he found in his hand was a small, silver coin.

"Tell me!" Hector shouted.

"You're…paying me for information?"

"That's how you operate, isn't it?" Hector asked bitterly. "A mercenary soldier who now trades in knowledge and artifacts on your master's behalf?"

Who had told him about the mercenary bit, Bernadotte wondered. Had it been Seras? Sighing, he pocketed the coin. "You're correct. For Lisa's murder, Dracula does intend to completely eradicate all human life. Zhat has been his plan since the very beginning."

This answer seemed to be the one Hector had expected, and yet it seemed to undo him all the same. With a haunted expression, he sank into the chair behind him, propped an elbow against his knee, and dropped his head into his hand. "So I have been lied to by my benefactor."

Bernadotte frowned. "Exactly what sort of outcome were you expecting, Hector? Even if all this actually was the cull Dracula promised you?"

"I don't know."

"Your behavior suggests otherwise. I can't say I'm an expert on forge masters, but I've never known men to work without payment. Surely you were expecting some form of reward for your services?"

"What reward was Dracula's Librarian promised," Hector challenged. "You're in this as much as I am."

Bernadotte narrowed his eye. He'd been promised nothing because he'd known from the start all that awaited him in the end was death, whether Dracula intended to kill him as soon as he was no longer useful or allow him to live out his life as the last of mankind. He'd known this, and Seras had known it even if she hadn't wanted to admit it. "Touché. How about an easier question then? How long has Carmilla been approaching you?"

After a reluctant pause, Hector answered, "Ever since she arrived."

"And not before?"

"No."

Well, at least we know he hasn't been in her pocket as long as Godbrand has. Bernadotte yawned. "And are you?"

"Sorry?"

"Are you prepared to betray Dracula?"

Hector lifted his head, and Bernadotte saw the conflicted emotions in his eyes before he spoke. "You have to understand I don't…I don't want to doubt Dracula, but I know now he's lied to me. All this senseless violence and bloodshed, he cares not as long as he meets his own aims. Carmilla is right. Dracula has gone mad."

"Yes?"

"I saw what he did to Seras the other night."

At that, Bernadotte started, recalling how his lover had come into the library, beaten and bloodied yet again by her sire. She'd been so secretive about it these past months that only him and the most inner circle of Poenari knew about it. If Hector knew now, who else did? "You watched it happen?"

The forge master shook his head. "No. I only saw the aftermath, but…she told me she 'spoke out of turn and paid for it.' So I know Dracula had to have been the one who hurt her. If he's willing to do that to his own daughter, and to kill his own son, then he must be mad."

Sighing, Bernadotte crossed his arms. "So zhen, you intend to betray Dracula and zhe Lady Seras?"

"I don't want to die," Hector said warily. "If following Carmilla will save my life, at least for the moment, then—"

"What if Seras could save your life?" Bernadotte crossed his arms. "Would you follow her instead?"

Hector scowled. "She lied to me, too. So did you for that matter. Why should I trust either or you? How am I to know you aren't going to kill me as soon as we're done speaking here? Answer me that, Master Librarian."

Before Bernadotte could answer, Diana suddenly raised her head and the two of them watched her prance away toward her mother across the workshop. The doe dipped her head and gently touched her bony nose to her undead youngster's in solemn affection. "Well," he began. "Haven't you heard what Draculina does to her enemies?"

Silence met his query and Hector took an uneasy breath.

"Trust me now, Hector. I guarantee my word is worth more zhan zhe likes of Carmilla of Styria."

-0-0-0-

Author's Notes: Not my intention, but I do think it's funny that Hector's being schooled again by a redhead.

...this isn't my favorite chapter. Satisfactory, but I'm tired of revising it. Next one will be better I hope.

I own neither of these series.