- XL -

Amelia had watched the scene in the courtyard from one of the small windows in her quarters. The way Viktor had killed the captain of his own guard was just another proof of the warlord's unreasonable cruelty. Of course Amelia was angry, too, that the fool hadn't recognised William when he had been sighted just a stone's throw away from the castle walls. Of course Amelia, too, would have punished that idiot for his oafishness. But perfidiously stabbing him and beheading him right there and then was no rightful punishment. It was pure viciousness.

The female Elder hissed through clenched fangs, while her bright green eyes followed the mortals being led into the keep. She wondered what Viktor was planning to do with them. He wouldn't be able to secretly feast on twenty mortals after everyone in the castle had seen them. And he couldn't make them everyone's meal without breaking his own rules.

Marcus hadn't watched any of the events outside. He had spent the time taking the furniture and fitments of his sitting-room to pieces. Never before had he been so furious! He had poured out his heart to that witch, baring his very soul, his innermost feelings, humiliating himself completely to finally convince her to help him. He had hoped so desperately that after her relationship with Viktor had ended, he would win Amelia over with this, that if she just knew how he really felt for William, she would understand him. She might behave unfeelingly, but she still was a woman, and Marcus had always thought that there was a spark of compassion left in her.

The wench had proven him wrong. Maybe she and Viktor weren't lovers anymore, but the megalomaniac warlord had gotten from her what he had always wanted: he had turned Amelia into a black-hearted demon just like himself, into the same kind of monster.

With a frustrated roar, Marcus slammed his fist into the last remaining table top, the force of the impact splintering both the walnut wood and the bones in his right hand.

Andreas Tanis was in an elated mood when he walked down the corridor to Marcus's rooms, three rolls of parchment tucked under his arm. He had started to write a fair copy of his notes and was planning to make it a whole volume with time, a chronicle of their society. Lord Marcus would surely be interested in this. Well, actually Marcus was the only vampire he could talk to about academic themes. Unlike the soldiers and servants, the Elder seemed to have been granted a decent education.

Tanis stood before the heavy door, his hand raised to knock, when he heard a yell, followed by a loud rumble. The scholar froze. It seemed this wasn't the right moment to present his notes to the original vampire. Tanis could imagine more enjoyable things than coming between Marcus's fist and whichever piece of furniture he was demolishing right now.

And so he turned on his heels, making his way back to the staircase. When Tanis walked around a corner, the sound of heavy armoured footsteps reached his ear. He was about to step out of the way and let the soldiers pass, but then a lordly voice addressed him.

"Hold on, servant!" Viktor himself was leading the group of soldiers and now gestured for Tanis to approach them.

With a lump in his throat, the former monk followed, bowing low to the Elder.

"If that isn't our scribbler," Viktor said in a mocking tone.

He didn't make a secret of his distaste for the scholar. That man had guided them to the disastrous event with William, then Marcus had made him an immortal without Viktor's approval – those two things were reason enough for the warlord to despise Tanis.

"Milord, I was just about to take these scrolls..."

"Stop waffling about your silly writing!" the Elder interrupted him. "There are more important things for you to do."

The young vampire furrowed his brow. What could he, Tanis, do that was more important than writing down history?

Viktor dismissed his soldiers, who didn't hesitate to march down the stairs and disappear in the darkness. He wanted to talk to the scholar in private about this particular matter. With a mischievous smirk on his lips, the warlord took a step towards him.

"You have seen the group of mortals arriving, haven't you?" It wasn't a question and Viktor went on without waiting for Tanis's answer. "I want you to find out more about them, especially the two women. In secret, of course. No immortal will know that you are watching them or talking to them, do you understand?"

"Of course, Milord." Tanis confirmed, rearranging the scrolls under his arm.

Viktor's sharp eyes followed the movement. "And don't you dare take any notes, you fool!" the Elder hissed.

The castle wasn't more inviting from within either, and it began to dawn on Ilona that the dining hall Viktor had mentioned wouldn't be cosy and comfortable. And she was right: the vast room was unheated, almost as cold as the corridors, and it looked like no-one had used it for ages. Only a few candle flames flickered in the mouldy air and a thick layer of dust covered the long table in the middle. An eerie flapping sound could be heard in the distance, like bats inhabited the cobwebbed vault.

They were told to wait again. Lajos gestured for his son to come over and sit with him at the table, but Adorjan still clung to Ilona's cloak. She tried to smile at the boy to encourage him, but she seemed to fail completely, for her nephew buried his face even deeper in the fabric. Ilona finally managed to nudge him over to the table and sat down next to him, stroking his light brown hair.

"I don't like it here," he murmured. "Can we go back home, please?"

"Not tonight, Adorjan..." Ilona answered in a soothing tone.

"And tomorrow?" the boy kept on asking.

"Maybe..." his aunt said, while thinking or maybe never again to herself.