II. The Transylvanian

"It is best for hunters to join forces," said Cardinal Grammen as he swept along before me. Scurrying monks and friars quickly got out of his way as we passed through the laboratory. "Therefore, I think you and Master Valerious ought to get acquainted." Here he stopped turned, and as I was only half-listening, I had to catch myself before walking into him. He raised a finger. "This Order is built on brotherhood, Gabriel."

"Of course," I said.

"We have never been blessed with two hunters before; we must not allow the two of you to become rivals. Let not your pride come before your work." He gave me a severe glance and then continued. I shook my head at his back before following.

We found the newcomer in a corner of the laboratory, poring over a diagram with one of the friars. Their backs were to us; from what little I could see, the drawing seemed to depict some sort of complex machinery, and they were discussing a design.

"Well, you see, my dear friar, if you simply add another gear here, it connects the two systems and—"

"Pardon my interruption," said Grammen. "Friar, if you would please leave us for a few moments." The mousy man nodded and scuttled away with the diagram folded awkwardly under his arm.

Before any more words could be said, the cardinal was already commencing introductions. "Master Valerious, may I introduce you to Gabriel Van Helsing, our greatest hunter."

He turned, and I looked upon him for the first time. He was handsome, I supposed, a little shorter than myself, and clad somberly. All his clothes were black and very fine. His eyes shone darkly from a pale face; his long black hair was pulled back, with a few shorter wisps hanging loose. He wore a heavy-looking ring on his right hand.

He smiled and bowed regally. "Vladislaus Valerious at your service." While the cardinal's pronunciation of his name made it sound terribly uncouth, it merely rolled off his tongue in a rich accent. I took a liking to him immediately, no doubt in part because the cardinal did not.

The activity of unsavory creatures lessened significantly for a time after my return; therefore I was stuck in the Vatican, always under the scrutinizing eyes of Cardinal Grammen. Being neither a scholar nor a ridiculously devout man, there was little for me to do – little work for a hunter. Grammen took note of my inactivity, accused me of being slothful, and suggested I spend my days in prayer. Partly to appease him and partly in the genuine hope of finding solace, I tried it for a full day – all it gained me were two very sore knees. For a short time, the cardinal was pleased. But when he caught me aimlessly wandering the halls again two days later, he inquired:

"Why are you not spending your days doing something more gratifying? You ought to be thanking God for this reprieve He has given you from your labors."

"Maybe I have a reprieve because I made an example of those warlocks, and the monsters do not yet dare to make a move," I said pointedly.

He bristled. "Ach, you are as bad as that Valerious; not once since your meeting have I seen him before an altar on any day but a Sabbath either; I don't know what he could possibly have been doing in his chambers all this time..."

"Yes, yes... would you excuse me?" The cardinal's words had given me an idea. I hastened away and left him in the corridor, muttering to himself. Several minutes later, I knocked on the door of Vladislaus Valerious, thinking that I might at least get a little interesting conversation in my visit – anything had to be more interesting than Grammen's lecturing.

He opened the door and smiled. "Ah, Mr. Van Helsing. Please, do come in," he said cordially.

I entered into a sitting room, in which there were many unusual artifacts and decorations, presumably from his native Transylvania. There also were two wingback chairs. At his invitation I sat in one of them; he took the other, folding his hands and calmly leaning forward.

"To what may I attribute this unexpected visit?" he asked pleasantly.

"What do you think of Cardinal Grammen?" I asked bluntly, deciding that it really was a satisfactory answer to his question.

He waved his hand dismissively, the silver on his ring flashing. "He means well, I am sure. Yet there is a saying in Transylvania: he is like dragon piss – it sounds fancy, but in the end it's just piss like anyone else's."

I could not help grinning at the intriguing comparison. "Oh, don't spare your feelings; tell me what you really think."

He gave a short, quiet laugh. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, he doesn't seem to care for you very much. Just minutes ago he was saying you aren't devout enough... I do hope your feelings aren't hurt."

He frowned slightly, making small creases appear in his forehead. "I always attend the mass... perhaps the dear cardinal's sight is suffering. All things aside, however, I do not have to spend twenty-four hours a day in prayer in order to worship."

I shrugged. "You certainly are not alone; he said the same thing of me."

The nobleman shook his head. "Cardinal Grammen knows nothing except that which fits into the confines of his position. As I said, I believe he has good intentions, but he is too short-sighted to allow them to manifest properly." He paused, and suddenly rose.

"My sincerest apologies, friend, I have not offered you a drink. I must not allow you to think that Transylvanians are not gracious."

"Thanks very much; I think I could use a drink."

I learned rather a lot about Vlad (as he insisted I call him – he was endlessly amused by the cardinal's apparent irritation over his consonant-laden name) over the next two and a half weeks. He was deeply committed to ridding the world of the evil creatures the Order sought to destroy, yet his respect for Grammen could be considered minimal at best. He had gained some recognition for his single-handed disposal of a goblin colony, but he modestly told me that he would never attain my fine reputation. In other cases, though, he was a proud man who would not suffer insult, as I saw with his opinions of the cardinal. I spent most of those weeks in his company, as his was the only company I actually found enjoyable. He told me of Transylvania, of its nearly perpetual cold and its unusual people. One day he tired of being the storyteller, and asked me of my past or if I had any family.

I told him the truth.

"So you do not remember anything?" he said with intent, leaning forth in his chair. "How terrible."

I sighed. "They say it is out of kindness; they say I have done all this before. I suppose I shall be doing the same work forever."

"To live forever," he mused quietly, "with your hands tied to this duty, this Order. Or, to live forever, but all on your own to do what you will. I wonder which would be the worse fate. For on the one hand, you are in chains, yet not without purpose; and on the other, you have your freedom, yet with time, life would eventually lose meaning and direction." He looked up at me. "I do not envy you your fate, Gabriel."

Vlad often said such comforting things; I began to wonder if all Transylvanians had these dismal moments. He possessed a marvelously shrewd mind for machinery, something I lacked. But he also had a sense of humor which often threatened to send me into peals of laughter at the most inopportune moments – for example, once the cardinal was speaking to me when Vlad passed. He mouthed "dragon's piss" as he walked by, forcing me to suddenly begin to cough violently.

It was refreshing to have a friend amid the staunchness of the Order, and it was a welcome surprise when Grammen sent us on an assignment together. He claimed it was because it was a two-man job; Vlad said it was because he just wanted to be rid of us.

Thanks to JK, Mike, and Carveus666 for your reviews! Anyone else care to leave one for this chapter? And by the way, ST- you still owe me those cookies! ;)