- XX -

Werewolves, sunlight, a blade cutting his throat.

Marcus Corvinus woke with a start. He lay on a cold, rocky floor, panting. Darkness surrounded him, but with his increased vampire sight, he soon recognised the dripstones at the ceiling of the cave, and his memory returned. Amelia had nearly killed him. Then he had come up with that brilliant lie, and Viktor had believed it!

His lips curled into a triumphant grin. From now on, this tale would save him. They would not dare to harm him again. Speaking of harm, he moved his shoulder and noticed that it had healed. His elated mood got a bit spoiled, when a spark of guilt flickered up in his mind. He hadn't needed blood and yet had attacked Amelia. Of course, she had been arrogant, denying him her blood. He, however, had overreacted, trying to take it from her by force.

Marcus sat up and glanced to the entrance of the cave. The last light of a rainy day was shimmering through the trees of the Hungarian forest outside. Viktor and Amelia couldn't have left yet. He spotted them sitting against the wall. She was asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. He had put an arm around her waist. They seemed to be closer than ever.

At least they are still wearing their clothes, Marcus cynically thought to himself, while he walked up to them. Viktor's piercing blue gaze followed his every move. The warlord looked healthy, like neither the battle against countless beasts nor the deathly rays of the sun had affected him in any way.

"When you showed us a 'safe place to set up the camp', I was foolish enough to believe you." Viktor scolded Marcus, his voice a threatening whisper.

He would have liked to shout at the incompetent Hungarian, who was not only unable to find a safe area in his own lands, but had led them directly into the werewolves' nest. However, he didn't want to wake up Amelia.

"You could have got us all killed. We don't even know if any men survived out there in the sun."

Marcus stared at him for some time, and mixed feelings welled up inside him. He hated the way Viktor treated him like an immature schoolboy. It wasn't his fault that the werewolves had attacked them. But maybe he could have been more careful when choosing a place to camp. Maybe he should have suggested marching to Castle Corvinus instead of camping in the woods. The original vampire bit his lip.

"I am... sorry," he murmured.

"As soon as the sun has set, we will go back, gather whatever is left of my army, and proceed to your fortress immediately," Viktor hissed.

Marcus nodded. He would do as he said again, for the Moldavian warlord's way was only reasonable. But his, Marcus Corvinus's, time would come. He knew the seed of lie he had sown tonight would sink down and take roots, undermining the other Elders' power, and then he, Marcus, would be their ruler.

Castle Corvinus was a massive fortress, not built onto, but into a high cliff. Its impressive walls towered above them, rising up into the night sky. Only a few small windows were illuminated, but the warm shine raised Amelia's hope for a comfortable bed. She would really need it after the dreadful battle and the unpleasant day in that cave. Well, it hadn't been completely unpleasant. She smiled to herself, thinking of the kiss she had shared with Viktor. When she turned in the saddle, she saw him riding next to her, his blue eyes focussing the unusual building before them. His expression was much more relaxed now than it had been in the early hours of the evening.

After they had left the cave and returned to the destroyed camp, they hadn't found any of their soldiers, not even their dead bodies. At first, they had feared the werewolves could have devoured all of them, until an exhausted General Thomas had stepped out of the woods and brought most of Amelia's men with him. They had been able to save themselves and had spent the day in another cave. Viktor, however, had had more difficulties gathering his army. Some of them had been hiding in the underground lairs, fighting against the last of the beasts for hours. Injured and jaded but alive, they had managed to make it back to the camp. Overall, they hadn't suffered too many losses. Marcus had then led them to his castle, the long ride exhausting them even more, but now they had finally reached their destination.

Viktor contentedly scrutinized their new stronghold while they approached the building. The massive stone walls were high enough and would protect them from any wolfish attack. The location within the cliff was perfect as a defensive fortification. A thin smile appeared on his lips. After their horrible defeat in the woods, fortune would favour them again.

Marcus watched the Moldavian warlord, as Viktor rode ahead with his back straight and his chin raised. It seemed he already saw himself as lord of Castle Corvinus. The original vampire grabbed the reins and encouraged his horse, too. He would not allow the tyrant to play king in his ancestors' house, nor would Alexander Corvinus. Marcus was confident of his father's help against Viktor's power games.

When the Elders passed the gates, they were greeted by only a handful of mortal soldiers. A single groom hurried to take care of all the vampires' horses, and two very young servant girls, mere children, struggled to carry Amelia's luggage inside the keep. The master of the house, the immortal Alexander Corvinus, great Hungarian warlord, was nowhere to be seen.

When they entered the hall – a large room with a wide, domed, and ornately mosaicked ceiling, which was strangely enough only lit by a solitary torch – a middle-aged steward awaited them. Without greeting, Marcus took hold of the man's arm.

"What happened here? Where have all the footmen gone? And where's my father?" he demanded in a hiss.

"Lord Marcus, I am so sorry...", the steward stammered, apparently intimidated. "But your father left the castle two weeks ago. He took most of the men with him."

"What?" Marcus's ginger brows furrowed in disbelief. "Why would he do that? And when did he say he'll return?"

"I... don't know, Milord, he didn't tell me. He just ordered me to give you this once you returned." The mortal man produced a sealed letter from his woollen cloak and held it out to Marcus with trembling hands.

The original vampire angrily bared his fangs. He would have loved to sink them into that fool's neck, but he restrained himself and just snarled, then snatched the letter out of his hands and shoved him away roughly. He broke the seal in the shape of his own coat of arms with the raven and began to read the letter, which was without any doubt in his father's handwriting.

Dear son,

As you have acted against my will by seeking help from that Moldavian devil, whom you will soon discover to be deadlier than all of William's breed together, I feel compelled to leave. I know it would not end well if I got in your – or his way.

May fortune be with you.

Alexander

Viktor walked up to his fellow Elder, heavy armoured footsteps announcing him. "Something of importance?" he asked, eying the paper in Marcus's hands. "Have you found out where your father has gone?"

Corvinus hastily crumpled it up before Viktor could make out the words.

"No." he replied between gritted teeth. "Just that he's a coward."

And that he has been right warning me from you all the time, he added in his thoughts.