Since the incident, Kurda saw an improvement in life. True, he was still undergoing a sentence, but no longer in the cave. He stayed in his cell now, although he was not allowed out for twenty hours per day. He could go out for an hour at dusk, an hour at dawn, and another hour at noon. The other hour was devoted to 'confinement' in the Hall of Princes, discussing matters with the Princes. Other than a more relaxed regime, the food had improved, with the occasional boar meat, despite the fact that Fur Ball and its parents have returned to the wild. Another plus side was that he longer had to wear chains, except for leg shackles and handcuffs when he went to the Hall of Princes.
Kurda yawned and stretched himself, before wincing. Even after such a long period of time, he had not fully recovered from his wounds yet. A bit depressed, he stared in front of him, trying to make out any shapes. The result was a splitting headache. He relented, and then threw himself bodily on his bed. That was a replacement for his coffin, for his back hurt terribly whenever it came in contact with a hard surface.
The door opened. Kurda strained his ears to see who the visitor was. Now, he had to rely on his ears. He learnt how to distinguish between footsteps of two different people and his guesses were normally correct.
"Hi, Vanez!" Kurda waved and moved over, creating a space for his mentor.
"Not bad! You can distinguish between all of us now!" Vanez grinned and made himself comfortable.
"Thanks to you and the rest," Kurda brushed the compliment off lightly.
"So how's life?" Vanez asked.
"Same as any day," Kurda admitted. "I wake up; go out, walkabout a bit, and then I have to come back here. I try and see if I can regain my eyesight – something I reckon impossible – or else I'll just do a bit of writing or just mop around until dawn, when I go out again. Then two hours later, I get shackled up and bundled off to the Hall of Princes for an hour. When I get back, I get cracking on whatever work Paris wants me to do. At noon, I finish my work, before sleeping. When I go out, I try to avoid the dining Hall, I can't eat, you see."
"I gather you lead a pretty boring life," Vanez commented.
"It's not my fault. OK, it is, but I didn't think I would survive!" Kurda complained. Vanez grinned wider.
"Serve you right."
"Hey!
When his meal was pushed in through a flap in the door, Kurda flung himself on it immediately. As he groped around for the mug of blood, he noticed someone by the door, watching. Leaping to his feet, Kurda backed away warily.
"Relax," the person laughed and said.
"I don't trust anyone," Kurda retorted fiercely. Just then, the door opened again and from what Kurda guessed, quite a large group of people had stepped in.
"Nice to see you, Kurda," another voice said quietly.
"Hibernius?" Kurda asked nervously.
"Bingo! Hi Kurda!" the first person who entered gave a huge shout and gave Kurda such a big hug that he was swept off the floor. Grinning, Kurda slowly eased the man away.
"Still in the show, Cormac?"
"Yes."
"Kurda, the Cirque Du Freak is here at Darren's invitation to witness his investiture," Hibernius explained in his usual quiet manner.
"Thought we'd pop in!" Hans Hands added in excitedly. Kurda smiled. It felt almost normal to be back, chatting with old friends. Just then, Vancha burst in with Darren and Larten. He glanced around at the full room and gave Cormac a murderous glare, before grinning playfully at him.
"Hi, Hibernius," Larten acknowledged the owner of the Cirque. Vancha nodded while Darren waved.
"Oh my god, Evra Von!" Darren roared and gave Evra a bear hug. Evra grinned happily and the pair went out to talk.
"Why don't you take the rest of the Cirque on a tour of Vampire Mountain? I need to discuss some things with Kurda and Larten," Hibernius suggested to Vancha. Vancha nodded and beckoned the rest of the Cirque out, bickering with Cormac Limbs along the way.
"Are you two speaking to each other?" Hibernius asked. Kurda and Larten looked uneasily at each other.
"To be honest, no," Kurda explained. "But he did stand up for me when I was caught with stones and other stuff needed for lighting a fire. He also did encourage me when I lost my sight partially. Why?"
"Just curious," Hibernius managed a fleeting smile.
That night, dinner was a major affair. The Hall of Khledon Lurt was reserved for members of the Cirque and the Princes only. The crowd also included, to much surprise, Kurda.
When Kurda arrived, he was seated in between Darren and Cormac. The guards then cuffed his legs to the chair. Darren helped Kurda get his food; while in the meantime, Kurda was trying to resist something that Cormac was trying to feed him.
"Geoff me, you idiot! What in the name of Khledon Lurt is that?"
"Can't you see?" Cormac forced it down Kurda's throat.
"Relax, it's only broth," Darren, upon seeing the scene, explained to Kurda. Kurda heaved a sigh of relief and started shoving food down his throat.
"What!" Cormac stared at Kurda, still uninformed about his current situation.
"What?" Kurda demanded, having felt his stare.
"Oh my God! I didn't… I didn't know that you were blind!" Cormac continued staring at Kurda incredulously. Bewildered, Kurda 'stared' at Cormac for a few seconds before bursting out into laughter that everyone looked at him in amazement.
"Come on, I'm not blind," he explained, still laughing. "Accordingly to our medics, I can see colors and lights, but am unable to make out any shape." As soon as he had calmed himself down, he began eating like a hungry ghost again.
"Slow down! You'll eat yourself to death, you know," Larten remarked casually, taking a swig from his mug of ale. Mika and Paris nodded vigorously in agreement.
"You won't understand. You eat these food everyday till the sight of it makes you want to puke, but I don't. I'm not fussy, but I'm sure if you had undergone a diet of only dry bread for a few moths or even years, you will also gobble up these things on the rare occasions you get them." He continued eating, but noticed an awkward silence around the table. He grinned suddenly.
"I'm not scaring you or sticking up for myself or whatever, so don't worry too much. It's not worth your concern. Besides, bread isn't that bad."
Almost at once, the merry atmosphere resumed. Vancha and Cormac started hurtling abuses across the table; Paris and Larten were deep in talk; Mika's head was drooping onto the table; Arrow was snoring while the Cirque members murmured among themselves.
After seeing Kurda shift awkwardly in his seat for the thousandth time, Darren bent down and snapped apart the chains.
"I owe you one there," Kurda grinned and rubbed his sore ankle.
"You'll have to pay back double for that," Darren grinned evilly and slapped Kurda on the back.
"Ouch!" Kurda yelled as Darren pulled his hand back in shock, horrified that he had forgotten that Kurda still had wounds on his back. However, Kurda shot a Murder One stare at Darren and chuckled.
"Ha! Hope that had taught you a lesson not to fool around with me!" Kurda said with a tint of smugness before leaping out from his seat and running around the Hall playing tag with Darren.
"So much for a clear-headed vampire," Arrow grumbled, woken up from his reverie by Kurda's teasing.
The next few days before Darren's investiture were very rushed. Twenty-four hours a day did not seem enough. To top it off, Paris's health got so bad that Darren actually suggested postponing his investiture. However, Paris refused to let his failing health intervene the celebrations. Everybody was involved in the celebrations one way or another. As Kurda was not allowed to participate, he spent most of his time in the Hall of princes chatting with Paris. In only a few days, the pair had covered everything there is to talk about in the universe.
On the night of Darren's investiture, Paris was already very weak, even though he put up a happy face, and Kurda had to support him, which was very difficult as Kurda was chained up even tighter than usual. Paris was shivering as though he was suffering from a bout of flu and Kurda, Larten and the other Princes feared for his health.
The first part of the investiture flowed along smoothly. However, at the banquet, Paris was nowhere to be seen. Just as the Princes were about to go out and search for him, a vampire came in the Hall, eyes red and puffy from crying.
"Sires, Sire Skyle has been found. He's dead!" a fresh wave of sadness overcame the vampire and he began to sob again.
"Where?" Arrow growled and shook the vampire's shoulders.
"Quite… quite a distance… he … he must have collapsed!"