Part III
The heavy thumps of Narbareck's boots on the ornate marble floors of the Apostolic Palace's stately corridors echoed throughout the building. One or two clerks and priests that she met on her way to the palace's top floor seemed perplexed at the sight of her. She paid them no heed, though, and just hurried towards an office of a Cardinal; not the office of Cardinal Tomko, the head of the Vatican's Congregation for Evangelization of the Peoples - he was merely a cover story. The man she was meeting was not a public face in the Vatican.
'Department of Holy Relics' said the brass plate on the door before which she stood. She didn't bother with the knocking, and just opened the door without hesitation.
"Oh, good, you're here alr-"
An elderly Cardinal stood up from his armchair to greet the newcomer, but stopped in the middle of his sentence once he saw who it was that had entered the room. Just like that guard before, he, too, turned sickly pale at the sight of Narbareck. And once again, it amused her.
"Greetings, Your Eminence," she said, bowing, "I hope I'm not disturbing."
As she took a step towards the petrified priest, another figure rose from their armchair.
"You..."
The second man was also a Cardinal, albeit he seemed to be much younger than the first one. They both fixed their gazes at Narbareck, their eyes betraying a mixture of fear and disgust. Narbareck just shrugged their questioning stares off and approached the two:
"Yes, it's me. I'm sure you're quite surprised to see me here."
The Cardinals said nothing.
"You're tense. Relax, I'm just here for a chat."
"What do you want you fiend!?" the younger cardinal, a middle aged man with a strong Sicilian accent, asked. He seemed very tense, even more so than his older colleague.
"Like I said, I just want to talk," Narbareck said, sneering a little at the priest.
She crossed the room sluggishly, her scuzzy boots sinking into the thick softness of the red carpet which covered the entirety of the floor, looking around the room as she did so. Compared to her dusty, dark, and simple office, this salon was an entirely new world; lavishly furnished, its walls adorned with numerous portraits of Popes and Cardinals, and its ceiling decorated by elaborate plasterwork. In front of a tall window overlooking St. Peter's Square stood a small coffee table, surrounded by three large and, by the looks of it, incredibly comfy armchairs. On the table there was a large silver plate with a beautiful, ornate porcelain tea set. Next to it was an obligatory plate of biscuits.
Circling behind the older cardinal, she took the liberty of taking a seat in the unoccupied chair right in front of the window.
"Hm... this is a great chair, I'll tell you that."
The two cardinals again said nothing. Narbareck then let out a long sigh of resignation. With the priests still in a state of shock, and thus incapacitated for conversation, she set her sights on the coffee table.
"You won't mind if I help myself to some tea?"
Without waiting for the priests' response she grabbed the tea pot from the table and started filling an empty cup in front of her.
"Mmm..." she mumbled, sniffing the steam that was rising from the dark brown, nearly black liquid, "Don't tell me – it's Darjeeling, right?"
The cardinals remained silent and tense, but they slowly went back to their armchairs, eying Narbareck suspiciously while she continued to enjoy the strong scent rising from her teacup.
"I never knew that someone like you would be so knowledgeable about tea," said the younger of the cardinals with a supercilious sneer as Narbareck reached for the sugar.
"Yeah, well, I'm full of surprises Your Eminence," she retorted.
"I must say, you guys do surprise me a little, " she continued whilst putting one sugar cube after another into the tea cup, "Even during such an emergency, you still cling to your comfort and perks; I mean, someone like me is walking around freely, but you still make sure there's tea and biscuits during your emergency security meeting. That's dedication."
Her sneer made both cardinals' twitch in annoyance, but they said nothing as Narbareck took a sip of her tea.
"Mmm, this is really good. I've got to say, you people certainly do have taste. But say, I count three cups and three chairs here. And I sincerely doubt that I was meant to be the third person. So, who else was invited to this little party?"
The cardinals exchanged a worried look but remained silent once again. However, Narbareck soon got an answer to her question when someone knocked on the door and, without waiting for a reply from the inside, entered the room.
"Sorry I'm late, I..." the man started, but stopped once he saw Narbareck at the table.
"Hello, Colonel Buchs. How are you doing?"
"How...?"
"Oh, I had a chat with some of your men down at St. Anne's Gate, and... let's say that they were swayed by my feminine charms."
The commander of the Swiss Guard stood in the doorway with his mouth half-open in astonishment. This kind of security breach might cost him his career, and he knew that very well. Stares of contempt from the two cardinals made him swallow nervously.
Narbareck, who was quite enjoying the sight of Vatican's chief of security squirming, took another sip of tea.
"Well, I'm afraid there's only three cups, Colonel, so unfortunately you won't be able to join us for our little tea party. Perhaps next time?"
"I..."
The poor Colonel seemed completely lost.
"Leave, Colonel. We'll discuss this later," said the younger cardinal and dismissed the commander with a wave of his hand.
"Y-yes, Your Eminence," the man said and quickly left the room.
"Well, then," Narbareck continued after a short awkward silence that followed the colonel's quick departure, "Why don't you help yourself to the tea? It's delicious."
"What do you want, Number 1?" the younger cardinal asked impatiently. It seemed that his dislike of Narbareck overcame his fear of her, and he was now showing open disdain.
The title that he used to address her didn't sit well with Narbareck, though. Creasing her forehead, she leaned back in her armchair, and shot the priest a look that would freeze one's blood in their veins. It made the Cardinal twitch a little, but he remained firm.
"Well, Cardinal, I'm here to talk business."
"Business?" said the other cardinal, finally joining in the conversation.
"Yes, business. And I'm sure you can imagine what kind of business it is."
"Vampires?" said the younger cardinal.
"Bingo! Sharp-minded as always, Rossi."
"That's 'Cardinal Rossi' or 'Your Eminence' to you."
"Whatever," Narbareck replied and helped herself to one of the biscuits.
"These are really good. Anyways, yes, it's about a vampire. A big one, in fact."
"An Ancestor?"
"Yes. Gransurg Blackmore."
The two cardinals exchanged a worried look for a few seconds, the time which Narbareck used to stuff another biscuit into her mouth.
"We've been keeping an eye on Blackmore for some time now. We even have some people from your department helping us in Prague," she said, her mouth still full.
"I don't remember approving of Executors cooperating with your bunch," said Cardinal Rossi.
"We recruited them for this operation secretly. This is a unique operation, aiming at the very top of one of the most powerful Ancestor covens. I'm sure you understand that we couldn't risk the Ancestors finding out and sabotaging our efforts?"
"There is no way the Executors would leak information to the heretics!"
"Well, you never know. And besides, while Blackmore is a secluded eccentric, you can bet that Ortenrosse has his spies everywhere. And he'd like nothing more than to get leverage over Black Wing."
"If there is a spy in the Church, then I'm afraid your Agency are the prime suspects. Especially your Number 5."
"Merem? What about him?"
"What about...?" said the other cardinal, "He's an Ancestor, for goodness' sake! A vampire working for the Holy Church?!"
"It's alright, Cardinal Naro. I assure you that he can be trusted. As long as you keep providing us with trinkets, at least."
"Why, you..."
"Anyways" Narbareck interrupted him; her patience was quickly running thin, and so she decided to cut this meeting short. She leaned forward onto the edge of the chair and continued in cold, business-like tone, "I've just received information from our intelligence network that warrants immediate and resolute action. And seeing as how we're against a top-level Ancestor, the Burial Agency will require the assistance of both the Executors and the Assembly of the Eight Sacrament, both in manpower and in resources."
"I thought you people preferred operating on your own?" asked Cardinal Naro.
"We do. However, need I remind you that this is the Lord of the Black Wing we're talking about; even I will need some assistance to capture an Ancestor as powerful as him. And I can't count on my other agents right now because they are all scattered throughout Europe, and time is of the essence here. I'm sure you understand the need for inter-agency cooperation in this case."
"We can't just lend you-" started Cardinal Rossi, but he didn't get to finish.
"I'm not asking you; I'm telling you."
"Who the hell do you think you are!?" the cardinal exclaimed, springing to his feet. While his colleague just sat in silence, the head of the Executors decided that he would have none of Narbareck's brash attitude.
"I am the Director of the Burial Agency of this Church," she stated calmly, "And you, Cardinal Rossi, the 120th Cardinal of the Curia, will lend me your men without any further complaints. Is that understood?"
"I won't-"
"Or do you perhaps want me to take this matter to the Pope?" she added with a cruel and twisted smile.
The effect of her words was instantaneous; the Cardinal suddenly turned pale, and got soaked in cold sweat.
"The Pope...?"
"Yes. He is my superior, after all. Maybe we should take the matter before him?"
"That won't be necessary."
"I think so, too. It's better not to bother the Holy Father with some petty inter-agency squabbling."
"Yes..."
"And that way no one needs to know about that young man from the Urbaniana University and you..."
If Narbareck's earlier threat to take the matter to the Pope made Cardinal Rossi turn pale, this sentence made his skin transparent. His heart started beating fast and he swallowed nervously.
"What? What young man from the university?"
"Oh, you know- your assistant at the faculty of Theology. Handsome lad, lovely blond 're quite fond of him, aren't you?."
"I-I have no idea what you're talking about," the priest said, trying his best to calm down and peeking at the other cardinal; Naro was eying the 120th Cardinal with growing suspicion and disbelief.
"Oh, don't worry – your secret is safe with me!" Narbareck said, her face adorned with an angelic smile once again, "So, about your cooperation..."
"Yes, yes, the Executors are at your disposal," Cardinal Rossi said, falling back into his armchair. He took a sip of tea to try to soothe his nerves, but it didn't seem to have much effect.
"And you, Cardinal Naro? Will the Assembly assist us in hunting down this dangerous vampire?"
"Yes... of course..." the old priest replied slowly, and helped himself to tea, as well, "We'll put the sacred relics of the Holy Church at your disposal."
"Excellent," Narbareck said and emptied her cup. As she placed it back on the coffee table, her eyes glinted again.
"There is one other favour I have to ask you, Your Eminences."
The barely suppressed excitement in her voice didn't pass unnoticed by the two cardinals. They lowered their cups back onto the saucers, and stared at her with tense and questioning looks. She replied with another grin:
"I'll need your keys for the Hall of Mirrors."
Complete silence. The two cardinals nervously avoided eye contact with Narbareck, who used the time to pour herself another cup of tea. All she had back at the Burial Agency's headquarters was cheap fruit tea and some bad coffee, so, as a connoisseur of teas, she wanted to make the most out of this opportunity. The priests kept exchanging nervous glances with one another while she slurped on the hot brown liquid.
Finally, Cardinal Naro gave in:
"Very well. I shall provide you with my key. The Assembly is willing to lend you any assistance you require to fight the heretics. I hope our trust will not be taken advantage of."
"Of course not! And you, Rossi; what do you say?"
"Yes, we will give you the authorisation, too. I shall arrange it that you receive our key, and security clearance for the complex."
"Very good. Well," Narbareck said, emptying her cup and placing it gently on the colourful saucer in front of her, "as I said, time is of the essence. I will be leaving for Prague tonight. I need you to send your keys to the Agency immediately."
"A-ha."
"Cardinal Rossi: I'll need three of your best Executors, fully armed, and ready by seven o'clock."
"Sure... I'll find you some good men."
While his tone was respectful and seemed sincere, Narbareck narrowed her eyes at the priest; she knew Rossi well, and was certain that he won't send her the best men available. He wouldn't want to waste his top Executors on her, and will probably give her some cannon fodder.
'Well, it is just as well', she thought to herself.
"Right. And you, Cardinal Naro – I'll need one of your men from the Assembly. And a relic or a Scripture, too. I'll let you know which one I'll need over the phone, once I've returned to my office and drawn up my plan of action. Alright?"
"Yes, yes, anything you need."
"Good. Well, gentlemen, thank you for your cooperation, " Narbareck said, rising from her chair, "I must say - this was a very enjoyable tea party. I think we should do this more often."
"I think not," said cardinal Rossi, in a flat voice.
"Well, at least let me grab another biscuit", she said, not waiting for his permission and stuffing her pocket with the rest of the biscuits from the plate, "These are really delicious."
"Right. Well, if that's all, please be kind enough and leave now. We have to fulfill all these requests of yours now, and it will take some time."
"Don't make it take too much time, though. I want those keys within two hours, and your men to be ready by seven o'clock. It would be most troublesome if I had to come here again because your cooperation was lacking.
"Oh, and try to organise a Mass for me and your men."
"Are you serious!?" said Cardinal Rossi, looking genuinely shocked, even more so than when Narbareck requested their keys for the Hall of Mirrors.
"Yes, I'm serious. We can't go on a dangerous heretic hunt without God's blessing, surely."
"Right... I'll arrange for a Mass. Now please, go."
"Alright, alright. I won't disturb you anymore, " she said, and walked over to the door.
"Say hi to the Pope for me, will you?"
"Get out."
"Heh."
Satisfied, Narbareck quickly left the salon, leaving the two stupefied Cardinals to their own devices.
The halls of the Palace seemed to be completely deserted, and she didn't encounter anyone until she reached St. Anne's Gate. Two familiar faces were still there.
"Hello, gentlemen!" she greeted the two guards when she got close to them.
She noticed that both men turned pale and jumpy when they saw her; the older guard must have told the younger one who she was. The expression of terror on the young man's face brought another grin to Narbareck's cheeks.
"Oh, I completely forgot," she said sweetly to the man, and reached for her right leg.
Before one could even bat an eye, she took out the small knife that she had hidden in her boot earlier,
"I should have given this to you earlier."
and stabbed the young guard in the neck.
The blade pierced his left carotid and jugular, and tore asunder his larynx. Within a second blood started gushing out of the vessels; some spilling onto his uniform and staining the indigo with vermillion, and some pouring down his windpipe and obstructing his airways.
The man reached for his throat in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but Narbareck caught him with her free hand. Driving the knife deeper into the man's neck, now tearing the vessels on the other side of his neck, she stepped closer and whispered into the guard's ear:
"I don't like being touched."
She moved away to savour the expression on the man's face for a moment – a mixture of terror, despair, and agony, his eyes pleading helplessly – before stepping back and pulling the knife out of his neck.
A few weak bursts of blood come out of his neck as his heart strained itself to try to pump the precious liquid into the oxygen deprived brain. It was for naught, however, and after staring blankly at Narbareck for several seconds, the young guard collapsed onto the pavement. Blood kept pouring out of his wound for a little longer, creating a small red puddle beneath him.
Breathing out a loud sigh of satisfaction, Narbareck turned to the older guard.
The man was deathly pale and paralyzed. His mind went blank with terror after witnessing Narbareck kill his colleague in cold blood in front of his eyes; even if had entertained the thought of calling for help or drawing his weapon, the look in Narbareck's eyes did away with them.
She smiled angelically, but her eyes were as cold as ice, burning with cold madness.
"Is there a problem, sir?" she said.
He couldn't even muster strength to answer her, and just shook his head weakly.
"Great. In that case I'll be on my way."
With a smile and a curtsy, she left the shivering guard and the bloody corpse of his colleague behind her. The crowds outside St. Anne's Gate were sparse and it seemed that no one had noticed what had just happened behind the gates. Which was just as well.
Whistling something that sounded like an Irish folk tune, Narbareck made her way towards St. Peter's Square. Drawing another breath of satisfaction as she bathed in the warm summer sun, she smiled at the blue skies above.
"Today is a good day."
(...)