Trevor finished tying off the feed bags for the horses and made his way back over to the wagon, his shoulders hunched against the cool evening breeze, and cursed once more. He hated the cold. There was no real respite to be found here. There was no tavern or ale. Plenty of discomfort though. From the little light that broke through the clouds he knew the sun was setting. He would need to get a fire started soon. The chill in the night air could cut a man to the bone. Only a fool would be out here during the day, much less at night. He had been starting to wonder just what exactly he was doing out here more and more as of late.

His mind would wander to thoughts of taking Sypha and Simon and simply leaving, going somewhere far from this life. Perhaps he could have his own bloody tavern. The idea of being snug in a common room full of music and a pint of mulled wine, listening to others tell tales from the road was becoming more and more appealing. Living to enjoy the twilight of his years going grey with Sypha safe by his side and watch Simon start a family of his own sounded even better. Just leave it all behind.

But that was not to be. That was not what fate had in mind. What he had were obligations he could not walk a way from. The innocent died right along with the guilty. And if he did nothing, then only the innocent died. Maybe even worse than that, depending on what got a hold of you.

Trevor scowled irritably. Now he was becoming some sort of blasted philosopher! For fuck's sake.

"If you keep making that face, it will get stuck that way."

Trevor looked up to see Sypha walking around the other side of the wagon. She had been setting wards around the perimeter of the camp to warn them if anyone or anything should approach. She brushed her hands together in satisfaction as she walked over to where he stood.

"No wood for the stove," she asked with a playful nudge.

"I was busy with the horses, thank you very much," he sniffed.

Sypha gave him one of those little smiles that women give, the ones where they know something you do not.

"I remember a time when you could see to the horses and have the stove fired up and roaring before I made it to the other side of the wagon," her smile became mischievous, "you're getting old."

"I am old," he corrected.

"If you say so," Sypha's smile went secretive again. Women had a smile for everything. "I will gather kindling if you see to my bag in the wagon. I was able to purchase some meat pies from the last village."

Trevor did not bother to ask her what she meant by that comment. Women liked nothing better than making you defend yourself, and once you started, she had already won.

His stomach gave a sharp gurgle. He had to admit he was hungry. He made his way to the back of the wagon and climbed the stairs inside.

The wagon was small. When he had first purchased it, it had two small beds that folded up against the wall and little cast iron stove in the corner. Trevor had made a few modifications since then. Starting with the beds. He took one and made it larger, he was not going to sleep in a separate bed from his wife. The second bed he turned in to a small table that could come down when needed and be stored away for more space. After Grant had come along, Trevor found himself needing to make more adjustments, like turning the storage space into a loft for Grant to sleep. And when Simon was born the table had to be abandoned altogether and turned back into a bed. Neither of the young men rarely used it anymore, having almost completely outgrown the space by the time they were twelve, preferring to sleep out under the stars more often than not.

Trevor had some concerns about their chosen lifestyle at first. Those concerns had only increased when Sypha became pregnant. He had considered settling them all down, creating a homestead. He had even made a subtle attempt. They had just taken Grant in and Sypha had only recently discovered she was pregnant with Simon. She tired easily, not that he would ever say that out loud, and she spent the first few months ill. She had also begun to chronicle her knowledge that had passed down to her as a Speaker and marking the changes in the land while often pointing out that it was difficult to write when he drove so poorly. And so Trevor thought that staying in one place for a time might ease some of the burden.

He could not have been more wrong.

Trevor had thought that remaining stationary would help her, but it had only frustrated her instead. Sypha paced as if in a cage, fretting endlessly about events in her absence. She could not concentrate when there were things happening out in the world and how could he want to sit idly by, missing so much. Also, the wagon helped her with her child sickness. She found the rocking motion comforting.

Trevor could only shake his head. The woman was like a maze through briars in the night and he was uncertain that he would ever learn the way.

And so, back in the wagon they went. Many things had changed over the years but this little wagon had sheltered them through it all. It was not much, but it was home.

Once the kindling had been gathered, it only took a few minutes to warm the meat pies in the stove. They were tasty enough although Trevor could not recall seeing much in the way of livestock as they passed through that last village. Only a few chickens and some goats. He decided it was best not to dwell too long on the source of the meat. Perhaps he would set a few traps tonight, if he was lucky they would have a rabbit or grouse in them for the morning.

"I had thought we would be closer by now," Sypha sighed as she brushed crumbs off of her lap. "The road does not seem to wish to end."

They had been traveling close to a fortnight now, and at the rate they were going it may be another fortnight before they would arrive at the castle. They had to make many stops along the way.

If there had been any question in Trevor's mind as to whether there was something dark rearing its ugly head once more, it had steadily been answered. It was if the land had been abandoned in the more remote areas. Men and women who should have been out oiling plowshares and tending harnesses, preparing for the planting to come had abandoned their homes. Some had gathered their families and headed towards the more populated areas, seeking some semblance of safety within city walls. And the stories they would tell.

They would come in the night, the monsters, demons from Dracula's horde. They had taken any one they could at first, men, women and children, would simply vanish. Nothing but blood and burned out farms left behind. But then the creatures began to take only the men, passing over the women and children completely. Old or young, always the men. The brave souls who would gather their nerve and set out in rescue parties were often never heard from again. The nights have become darker and longer too. Dracula has returned and is creating a never ending night.

Trevor knew that this was not the case of course ... Dracula was dead, he had seen to this himself. No, this was not the work of Dracula. This was someone else. Someone who has simply picked up the mantle and is continuing his work. Some bloody fucking vampire with a bloody fucking forge master.

God he hated those bastards.

"Perhaps Simon and Grant remaining behind was good, although I would have preferred to have them with us."

Trevor licked at the grease on his fingers. The boys had wanted to come along but Trevor had ordered them to remain behind.

"The town needs them more than we do right now," he said, ignoring the glare she gave him as he wiped his hands on his coat. "If they didn't stay, the bloody clergy would've had the townsfolk back paying penance for something that was not their doing. They'll be fine and we'll be back soon enough."

"Still, I can't help but think that you wanted them to stay."

Trevor stifled a groan. Sypha had been almost as unhappy about the boys remaining behind as the boys themselves had been. Something that had confused the hell out of him since she had been the one to suggest they remain to help the villagers in the first place. And Trevor had agreed. The journey would not be quick and could have some risk. Not to mention that they had no idea what they would find once they reached the castle. Alucard could be feral by now for all he knew. Besides, Sypha would just coddle them like she does and they needed to be on their own a bit. But then, she is their mother, and mother's did tend to have a hard time letting go.

"Sypha, we've been over this," Trevor reminded her gently, "and it really is for the best. Simon is practically a man now, for all sense and purposes. We need to start letting him be a man and make his own choices."

"His choice was to come with us to the castle."

"The right choices, he needs to make the right choices. That is a part of becoming a man as well. Knowing when to listen to those wiser than you and make the right choices. His coming with us was not the best option. Those people still need guidance and he'll benefit from the experience."

Sypha stood across from where he sat, her arms folded across her chest. "Are you sure it's not because you don't want him around Alucard."

"What? No! God woman, no," he scoffed, "of course not." Sypha simply looked at him. She could compress a great deal into one look. "But you have to admit," he continued, standing up before her and placing his hands on her shoulders, "that showing up unannounced with the entire family on his doorstep might be a bit much. It's better that it's just you and me. This time anyway. Simon will be better for it, I promise. Just trust me this one time about this. I think I know a little something about becoming a man."

Sypha looked up at him with eyes bluer than any midsummer day he had ever seen and her rosebud mouth curved into a small smile. Good, she seemed satisfied. But then, only a fool thought he knew what was in a woman's head just because she had a smile on her face.

At that moment, an osprey's cry was heard; Trevor grabbed his whip and a crossbow that hung buy the door. The osprey call was the signal that a ward had been tripped. Someone was outside the wagon in the woods.

Trevor opened the wagon door and cautiously stepped out. He looked up at Sypha who was concentrating on a small ball of light in her hand behind him.

"There," she whispered and pointed into the black of the forest. Trevor made his way to the tree line, crossbow aimed at the dark.

"I know you're out there," Trevor shouted, "and if you're not dead yet you will be unless you show yourself."

Not a sound came from the darkness. "Alright," Trevor mumbled, "have it your way. Light'em up dear."

Sypha walked from behind him, the tiny ball of light in her hand having grown exponentially, when a voice called out.

"That you Belmont?"

Sypha glanced at Trevor who squinted into the dark. "Who's asking," he shouted in reply.

Two figures emerged from the shadows. One was a younger fellow, a cap of blond hair that was slightly singed atop his head. Wide grey eyes stared out from a face smudged with soot. The other man was older, about the same age as Trevor. Dark hair and eyes and a face that was all planes and angles. They both wore the dark brown leather and long daggers at their side of hunters. A majority of the time, Trevor would have let Sypha burn them to a crisp. He did not like hunters. Most were corrupt, kidnapping young women and children and selling them to the church as witches or possessed to be burned at the stake or worse. Trevor had straightened more than a few out on more than one occasion. But not this time. Not this man. Trevor knew this man. They had known each other for many years now, even saved each other's neck a time or two. One of the very few honest hunters still out there.

The older man grinned. "I thought that it might be you when those wards of yours caught Charles here," he gestured to the younger man who made a sour face, "and when your lovely wife about lit up everything in a three mile radius, I knew."

Trevor smiled. "Morris Baldwin. What the hell are you doing here, you old goat."

"Trying not to get killed," Morris laughed as he approached Trevor and the two embraced. "Good to see you as well Sypha."

Sypha smiled as she hugged him. "You as well Morris."

Morris took a step back and gestured over to the trees where the younger man still stood. "That over there is Charles Vincent. Well, don't just stand there like some slack jawed bugger. Come over boy."

Charles stood in the shadows and stared at the three warily. "But ... but they ... she ... that was witchcraft!"

Trevor bristled slightly and his eyes narrowed. But Sypha only smiled.

"That is a common misconception, but it is not witchcraft. I am a speaker."

"Isn't that the same thing," Charles said incredulously.

"Now listen here," Trevor started towards the young man only to stop when Sypha put her hand on his arm with a shake of her head.

"What the hell is wrong with you boy," Morris bellowed angrily. "Have you been listening to anything I've been telling you? There's no witches here! This is Sypha and Trevor Belmont. The ones who killed Dracula. Now get over here and make right before I let them turn you to ash!"

Charles went pale as Morris spoke although his face remained sullen. The little shit should look shameful, Trevor thought angrily. He had never taken kindly to any sort of disparaging comment in any kind of way towards Sypha. And that one was the worst in Trevor's opinion.

But Sypha had heard these types of accusations her entire life and had learned a long time ago not to allow it to rattle her in any way. She simply smiled once more and walked towards the young man who at least had the courtesy to keep his head down.

"It's alright. As I said, it's a common misconception. Please, come, everyone inside and sit. I still have some pies and I am sure Trevor has some drink somewhere. Trevor," Sypha called over her shoulder, "perhaps we set up a fire outside? The wagon could become a bit constraining with so many large men inside. I will see to the food."

In a matter moment, Trevor had the fire going and everyone was gathered around, finishing off the last of the mystery meat pies.

"So where are those boys of yours," Morris asked between bites, "I wouldn't have thought to find them very far from you."

"They're not boys anymore Morris," Trevor chuckled. "They're back in Dobreta. There was still some cleanup to do. What about you? How's Mary?"

"Fine, fine. Had a little one of our own not but barely a year back."

"Oh Morris," Sypha smiled as she passed him a cup, "that's wonderful. Congratulations. Boy or girl.

"A boy," Morris beamed. "Named him Hugh. He's a handful too. Runs his poor ma ragged. That's why I'm training young Charles here. Take over the family business."

"Looking to retire eh?" Trevor sympathized.

"Yeah. I'm not getting any younger. And there aren't very many of us left you know. True hunters left I mean."

"Yeah," Trevor agreed.

"Is it true what happened to Joseph and Katerine," Sypha asked.

"Yeah," Morris replied, his face gone somber, "it's true. Bloody tragic, pardon my language Sypha. Left a boy of there own behind, Nathan. Mary and I have taken him in. He doesn't have anywhere else."

Trevor shook his head. Joseph and Katerine Graves were two of the more competent hunters he knew. It was said they had died, sacrificing their lives to seal up some demon vampire in the north area. More and more of the good ones gone. And with a child left behind. Trevor looked at Sypha. He did not believe he would live through it if he lost her. Perhaps not even for Simon.

"What clean up?" Charles suddenly spoke up from where he sat after having remained quiet through most of the night. Everyone looked at him questioningly. "You said there was some cleanup to do ... with your son ... in Dobreta. What cleanup?"

"Ah," Trevor said as he reached in the pocket of his coat and pulled out a pipe. He began to pack it with with tabac. "We were in Dobreta due to a sudden increase in hellspawn out there," Trevor said matter-of-factly. "The locals thought it was from Dracula's horde, but we know better. Still, they were wily fuckers. You heard anything about any bloodsuckers out there with a sudden case of ambition? And maybe a forge master too?"

Morris rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "Can't say that I have ..."

"Styria," Charles interjected.

Trevor looked at Morris who had a look of consideration on his face. "What's with Styria?"

Morris shifted in his seat. "Well, rumors mostly. A little extra activity than normal, so to speak."

"Who controls Styria," Trevor asked.

"A female vampire named Carmilla, I believe," Sypha said. "Not much is known about her. I don't believe she was not one of Dracula's high generals either."

Trevor grimaced. You did not need to be a high general to have ambition. "Do you think Alucard would know her?"

Sypha shrugged. "I don't see why not. I suppose we can ask him when we see him."

"Ah," Morris said as he took a swallow from his cup, "going to the castle then?"

"Yeah, Sypha thinks there was some strange magics involved in Dobreta," Trevor answered with a shrug. "The only place we might get some real answers, especially regarding magic, would be in the castle or perhaps the hold. We were hoping Alucard could give us a hand." If he hasn't gone batshit crazy, Trevor thought silently to himself.

Charles looked at them in outright horror. "You would seek the help of that devil-halfbreed monster?"

Morris rolled his eyes and sighed loudly but Trevor was having none of it this time. "Oh you know him then?" He asked, sitting up to level a steady gaze on the young man.

"I ... no ... no one dares ..." Charles stammered.

"So you don't know him then," Trevor said, ignoring Sypha's hand on his arm. "Well, it just so happens that I do. I also know that if it hadn't been for that devil-halfbreed monster, Dracula would still be out roaming the land making late night snacks out of little shits like you. Little shits who walk around thinking they know so much about the goings on in the world only to find to late they don't know a fucking thing."

Charles's gaze flicked to Morris who stared pointedly at his cup. "I ... I only say that because of what we heard ..."

"And just what did you hear," Trevor said incredulously.

"That ... that there is a witch in the woods, around the castle." His gaze flicked from Trevor to Morris and then back to Trevor. "A witch with a great beast as a familiar."

"And where did you hear this trite?" Trevor growled.

"A hunter ... his name was Gerold."

Trevor looked at Morris who gave him a sly smile over his cup. "Gerold Niclaus."

"Gerold Niclaus?" Trevor spat. "That stupid git! He wouldn't know his arse from a hole in the ground. If there was any justice in this fucked up world that witch and her familiar would have flayed and skinned him on the spot. Gerold fucking Niclaus. Is this where you get your information from now Morris?"

Morris leaned over to poke at the fire with a smile. "Now, now Trevor. You know I like to listen to all. Best way to learn I always say."

"He's a right royal prick and you know it. Oh don't look at me like that Sypha! If not for you I would have run him through a long time ago." He would have too. Gerold had try to claim Sypha as a witch for a bounty. Sypha had been quite capable of running him off but not before he turned the town against them. His blood burned at the memory.

"Be that as it may,"continued Morris nonplussed, "see him we did. And he was steadily rambling about a woman in the woods and her pet werewolf. He was well into his cups by the time we found him mind you, but his story never changed."

"Trevor," Sypha said calmly, "perhaps it is something we should at least take into consideration."

"Alucard isn't taking up with some witch Sypha, nor would he let one roam so close to the castle."

"I agree," soothed Sypha, "but that doesn't mean that there isn't some danger coming his way. A danger he may not be aware of."

"Or maybe that's why he's staffing the castle."

Trevor and Sypha both whipped around to look at Morris. "What!" They both exclaimed simultaneously.

"He's staffing the castle," Morris repeated as he continued to nonchalantly stoke the fire. "Had some scrawny little chap called Gandolfi or Goldifi-something or other, going around asking if anyone was interested in temporary to semi-permanent employment over there. Most ran the poor man out but not before he got a few to bite."

Trevor looked at Sypha who only looked thoughtful. What the hell could be going on over there?

After the drinks were finished, everyone made camp for the night. Morris decided that he and Charles would sleep next to the wagon rather than try on in the dark, looking for shelter. Safety in numbers he said. They left off early that next morning but not before Charles came to Sypha with his head lowered, thanking them for the food and shelter and apologizing for his ignorance. Sypha was gracious as usual but Trevor gave the young man a stern look and a grunt as a farewell. Uppity little pups need to learn their place sometimes.

In short time, he and Sypha were moving as well. She sat next to him on the wagon, her head resting against his arm.

"Gandolfi ..." Trevor mumbled looking down at Sypha. "It took me a while but I know where I heard that name before. The Gandolfi's have served House Belmont since the days of Leon Belmont. I had no idea one was even still around."

"Well, it looks like Alucard did and he's given him a job," Sypha said with a small smile