Vengeance
The scream, that came from Herbert's lips, when he yanked Alfred back, was drowned by the roaring of the flames. The young vampire shielded his face with his hands in a poor attempt to protect himself. Blinded, he staggered backwards; back into the room that meant no shelter anymore.
Herbert gave Alfred a push, moving him over to the windows, before he ran to the fireplace. He grabbed the heavy poker, rushed to where Alfred stood and smashed the glass behind him. At once the fresh supply of air dragged the flames into its direction, so without further ado Herbert took Alfred's hand. They ran recklessly through the smashed glass onto the small balcony outside before throwing themselves over the railing.
While falling Alfred remembered that their room was on the third floor. But the expected hard impact failed to appear. His vampire's instincts took over the control of his body and he landed safely on his feet like a cat, absorbing the impact easily with his knees.
They straightened up and Herbert pulled Alfred into a close embrace. Alfred apparently had not yet realized how close he had been to his final death.
But though they escaped the deadly flames, they were still far from being safe. It was morning and the sun could break through the fog any moment. They looked around to orientate themselves. Not far away they saw a blond woman cowering on the ground, sobbing loudly. Lady Sisia.
The rushed over to her and Alfred wondered, what the residue in her hands was – it seemed to be mere dirt to him. But in the same moment he felt Herbert's horror, he realized that the vampiress didn't have dirt, but dust in her hands. Not any dust. Dust that had most certainly been her lord husband Robert some minutes before.
"Sisia..." Herbert began, lost for words, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. Concerned he and Alfred looked around for a sign of the Count.
He suddenly appeared out of the thick smoke that now covered the patio by. A short glance at Lady Sisia told him all he needed to know. Gently but firmly he took the vampiress, that appeared to have been turned in her mid-thirties, by the arm, pulling her up. Distressed Sisia tried to grasp another handful of the dust, but it ran through her fingers like water.
"Lady Sisia, we have to go underground, a cellar, anywhere. Do you have any shelter from the sun?" Breda asked urgently, while humans were already bustling about – alarmed neighbors and obviously even firefighters with an engine.
The vampiress seemed hardly conscious, but Breda urged her further on and finally she pointed vaguely to a neighboring house diagonally across from the street. "There is a secret entrance to a shelter underneath the cellar of the house. The owners don't know," she whispered faintly.
Breda nodded. "Let's go, now!" He linked arms with Lady Sisia and marched on. After some steps he looked back to see that both – his son and his consort – hadn't moved a bit. "What?" he called.
Alfred stared into the direction of the stables. Thay were not on fire yet, but that was only a matter of time – the townhouse itself burned like a giant torch. "Baptiste's books," he whispered. They had left almost all their luggage in the coach. One of Robert's servant should have brought it to the castle within the next nights.
Herbert looked as terrified as Alfred into the same direction. "My hairwash-powder," he moaned in a blatant dismay.
They both staggered backwards, when a mighty force took them by the scruff of their necks. "Hurry," the count snarled in annoyance before turning around, taking Lady Sisia's arm again and rushing to their shelter. This time Alfred and Herbert followed.
And not one of them took notice of the vampire watching them through the dense smoke, hearing every word.
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Sisia showed them a huge boulder in the spacious garden of the neighboring house. Alfred and Herbert rolled it aside with joined forces. Underneath was the entrance to a large room. Made for emergencies, vampires could survive in there for some weeks. It was kept in well order. Every vampire-clan needed a shelter like this in the immediate surroundings of their home, for cases such as this.
Tired out physically and psychically, adding to the tiredness caused by the sun, the four vampires settled on the mattresses laid out on the walls.
"Sisia, what has happened?" Breda asked.
The vampiress seemed to have composed herself a bit. The tears ran no more, but the pain was clearly visible in her face. She ground ceaselessly the grain of dust still in her hands. Finally she said with a choked voice:
"Robert and I wanted to go to bed after you had retired, Your Excellency. We just left the parlor when suddenly a man passed us by – a vampire I've never seen before and Robert didn't seem to know him either. He – he had a torch and appeared to be looking for something. He seemed to be completely surprised by our appearance. Robert asked sharp questions at once – who he is, what he wanted. And then -" Sisia sobbed, covering her face with her hands, "- then he just attacked him. Out of the blue, all of a sudden. He took the torch and – set fire to Robert." Tears flooded down her face once more. Crying she added: "I know I should have stopped him, warning the others – but I had to help Robert. I..."
Her voice failed as her whole body shook, but Breda had learned enough anyway. He could imagine the rest. The unknown attacker could be none other than Kadir. Obviously the Ottoman knew he would not stand a chance in a fair duel. So he decided to eradicate him in his sleep. But they had thwarted his plans by sitting so long together, chatting.
It had indeed been late when he had retired. For one thing it had been nice to talk to Robert and Sisia again. For another thing he didn't feel like going upstairs into his guestroom, that he knew was directly beside Herbert's. The walls of Robert's townhouse weren't exactly thick and there were some things he just didn't need to hear.
So Kadir had waited until the early morning for his assassination, hoping that his lord might be asleep already. But their late retiring had caught him on the wrong foot. Breda felt cold rage well up inside him.
Alfred had laid his head on Herbert's shoulder. He was dog-tired and wide awake at the same time. There were dozens of questions in his head he felt the need to ask, but Herbert merely shook his head subtly, when he looked at him.
They all were silent for a while, dwelling on thoughts, when suddenly Lady Sisia rose, walking over to the secret entrance. Alfred watched in confusion as Sisia opened the door and apparently was about to leave the shelter. When neither count nor his son seemed to make any attempts to interfere, Alfred stirred to stand up and restrain the vampiress. The sun would be shining now for sure.
But Herbert took his arm, pulling him back before he had risen completely and shook his head sadly. The count, having noticed Alfred's movement, said calmly: "Let her go."
Alfred looked back to Lady Sisia climbing the ladder.
"But – but the sun...", he stuttered.
"The sun holds no horror for her anymore," Herbert explained gently. "It's the mere existence that is now too much to bear for her. Robert was not only her sire, but also her great love. She cannot be without him."
Alfred settled down again, laying his head back on Herbert's shoulder. He might not be the most emotional person right now, but he certainly felt the tragedy of this whole situation. Was it only mere hours ago that he had felt so blissful in Herbert's arms?
"Do you think it was Kadir?", Herbert asked his father.
The count nodded. "I can't think of anyone else. We will see where to get horses tomorrow and return to the castle as quickly as possible. It's possible that Kadir believes me gone and that he won't expect me."
"And then you will duel him?" asked Alfred.
"No," Herbert answered. "Attempted devious murder is an exclusion criterion for the right of a duel, I'd say."
"If Kadir really had planned to take me out with this assault, he forfeited this right indeed. The vampire's tribunal will certainly convict him for this deed. I'm still not sure if I should call the tribunal and turn him in, or if I'm merciful and just behead him with the sword. Somehow I don't feel like he deserves mercy," Breda explained with a murderous expression on his face.
"Vampire's tribunal?" Alfred asked astonished. Hell, there was still so much to learn for him. "What would be his punishment? If beheading is the merciful way?"
"Kadir did not only plan to murder his lord instead of facing a fair duel, he has also extinguished a whole innocentclan as a side-effect. I'm sure he'd get the maximum penalty: He'd be walled in," Herbert explained unmoved.
Alfred didn't ask any more. He could vividly imagine this punishment. An immortal creature, walled in, for all eternity alone with itself, darkness and hunger. A terrible idea, which sent a shiver down Alfred's back. Another kind of shiver, than he had felt some hours before, with Herbert in front of that fire. Fire...
"Why couldn't Lady Sisia help Robert?" he asked. She had been a vampiress, surely she would have had enough strength to pull off one of the curtains to wrap him in or stripping him of his burning clothes, or...
"There is not much really deadly for a vampire, but fire is one of those things," Herbert explained softly, caressing Alfred's cheek. "When the sun catches us, it's not her light that kills us, you know? She sets us on fire. It's different than with humans. If a vampire catches fire, they burn – within seconds, turning to dust. Lady Sisia had had no time to save him, if he really caught fire."
Another wave of horror swept over Alfred. Had he really been so close to his final damnation? What if Herbert hadn't pulled him back at once, what if the fire rolling over him had set his clothes on fire? Unconsciously he pressed nearer to Herbert. He was quite certain that he owed him his unlife now . Herbert pulled him close, kissing him on his front, sending comfort over their blood-connection.
"Let's try to get some sleep," Breda suggested. He seemed to be completely tired as well. "There is nothing more we could do until the evening."
The boys nodded and lay down on their mattress. Despite their agitation, exhaustion finally won the battle and they fell asleep.
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Cautiously the three vampires left the shelter on the next evening. The aftermath of last night's fire was a scene of utter devastation.
Robert's townhouse had burned down to the ground, the stables had had no chance to stand up to the fire. The two directly neighboring houses had been damaged, too, but apparently only in the attics.
They stared at this scenery for a couple of minutes and wondered what to do. Then the count said with a leaden voice: "Come on. Let's see if we can find horses somewhere. It's still early in the evening, we might find yet a farmer to sell us some."
They turned around – and saw a vampire standing there, watching them intently. They just stared at each other for a while, until Herbert said: "Hey, aren't you Robert's stable-boy?"
The vampire looked down on the ground, visibly affected. Herbert sighed pitifully. There were almost always one or two vampires to survive the end of their lords. Which didn't necessarily mean that they didn't suffer.
"Can... Can I come with you, Your Excellency? I... I don't know where to go," the boy asked shyly.
Breda pressed his lips together. Every vampire-lord eschewed having someone in their clan, who wasn't damned to obey them – Breda was no exception of this.
"What's your name?" Breda asked to gain more time.
"William, Your Excellency. I'm hardworking and I promise I would never bother you. I'm very good with animals."
"I already have a stable-boy," Breda mused, but William had already continued his talking.
"If Your Excellency wanted to follow me? I've saved something for you. Maybe I can change your mind yet." He pointed into the direction which he had came from and Breda finally nodded. Well, he would look at whatever William wanted to show him – that at least did the poor lost boy deserve.
The young vampire led the way up the street and down a narrow alley, until they reached a lost looking areal. Hidden behind overgrown hedges – stood their landau along with both their horses.
Both, Alfred and Herbert cried out in surprise and rushed to the coach. One look inward was enough and they embraced happily. Their precious treasures were safe and whole. Breda looked at William amazed, who smiled cheekily at him.
"I thought you'd need something to go back to the castle. And I overheard that there were some belongings of your son and his consort in there, that are very important to them. Moreover I could escape the sun in the coach-floor. So I harnessed the horses – which wasn't exactly easy, since they were quite panicky, see? And I brought the coach here into safety."
Breda looked at the stable-boy a bit more, before he began to chuckle. The young vampire gazed him up expectantly. Well – he should have a chance, since he had been working hard for it already.
"Alright, I will take you along. How about climbing that box now?"
"Yes, milord – Your Excellency," William called with bright eyes and hurried to harness the horses. It was true that the loss of his lord hurt him much, but beyond that grief also lay a long forgotten freedom, though it seemed far away yet. Now he was just happy that he had a place to go to. He was grateful, that the Count von Krolock really had admitted him – he knew that this was no matter of course. He'd pay back the trust. The thought to found a clan of his own, being lord to his sired creatures, as the majority of free vampires did, was simply absurd to him. He was no lord. He had always been a servant.
When the animals were ready he climbed on the box, took the reins and gestured the horses to trot on.
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Breda sat opposite of his son and his consort, right beside the bundle that was eyed with great affection by both of them. He shook his head inwardly. Yes – he had found the right companion for his son – obviously Alfred was as materialistic as Herbert. Though he could understand Alfred's interest better – he also thought books to be more worth than Herbert's cosmetic products.
The ex-student had snuggled close to Herbert again. The looks he gave his son were far different from those of his last consorts. His son's hopes to finally meet someone to share his feelings seemed within his reach.
"Are you happy with him?", he asked his son the obvious via thoughts.
Herbert smiled. "You have no idea, how much. He's the best thing that ever happened to me. I can't thank you enough for bringing him along."
Breda smirked. "You're more than welcome. I suppose he's going to be an agreeable companion. How far is his training?"
"He's very good. He's learning more night by night, his emotions are getting ever stronger. I can feel that, as you know. I believe this connection between us made it easier for him to relearn those emotions."
Breda nodded. He had guessed something like this. But still a lot of his progress was Alfred's own talent – Baptiste didn't reach out for him for nothing . The Viennese seemed to be able to smell exceptional vampires. As long as he knew Alfred he had never behaved like the usual vampire of his age. He had original thoughts and an insatiable thirst for knowledge. He also liked it, that Alfred didn't behave too submissively in his presence. He showed him the due respect, but then he had probably learned that during his earliest education as a lower noble. Still he was definitely devoted to him, as his saving him back in Vienna proved.
They had made three-quarters of the way to the castle, when Breda ordered William to halt. He didn't want to arrive at the castle until next night, for having less pressure of time, when he called Kadir to account for his crimes. So he described William the way to the next shelter, where he should have a look around if there was a sign of Kadir there. Breda supposed the Ottoman would return to the castle in a direct way, but safety came first.
After about half an hour's time William came back – the coast was clear. He steered the coach to the small shack and the travelers got out of the coach, glad to be able to move their muscles again. The stable-boy refused any help from Herbert or Alfred and insisted on tending to the horses alone as well as bringing the precious luggage into the shack.
When morning broke they settled into coffins in the hidden cellar of the shack. Herbert did not give a damn about the narrowness and pulled Alfred along with him into his chosen coffin. They could barely close the lid above them, but after a while Alfred found it quite cozy, as he had to admit. But then he probably would have felt alone without Herbert by his side.
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Breda urged them on the next evening to make a quick departure, as soon as it was dark enough. When they were on the road again he gave William short orders where to go, since the stable-boy had never been to Castle Krolock.
While Alfred didn't know these forests and therefore had no idea where they were, Herbert narrowed his eyes more with every turn. This was not the direct way to the castle. This way led to...
"What are you up to?" he asked his Father sharply in thoughts.
Breda looked out of the window determinedly to avoid looking into Herbert's eyes – to avoid the accusation in them.
"You don't really believe I would allow this whole affair to rest?"
"An usurper, that has killed one of your best friends and extinguished his whole clan along with him, awaits you in our castle and all you can think of is this? Can't it wait?"
"Don't you dare talking to me like that," the count's thoughts grumbled. More than anything it was the truth in his son's words that annoyed him. Of course he was right. But he still was decided to see it through.
"Forgive me," Herbert asked stiffly. Breda was sorry that he had tortured his son with his sire's powers right now. He swore to make it up to him, when all of this was over.
Herbert said, or better thought, those last words against his will. But he had felt the compulsion to do so. He angrily turned his eyes away from his father, who wasn't looking back at him anyway, and pulled Alfred close to him. He always felt abused when his father disciplined him like that. Always, when he lost arguments, he pulled the sire's card. Of course his father wouldn't listen to him. He was far too vain for that. The villagers had wounded his pride and now they'd have to pay for it.
They reached the village after about an hour's time and Breda guided William to Chagal's inn. There he ordered the stable-boy to wait by the coach. Alfred had been confused, when he had realized where they were. He had received a bad temper from Herbert's emotions, but had supposed it to be an aftermath of the events in Kronstadt or maybe tension for what would await them in the castle. But now he also felt presentiment. He was not sure he'd like the count's next actions.
But nevertheless both, Herbert and Alfred followed the count – they had to when they had no means to refuse obedience.
The inn was calm – uncommonly calm for this time of the evening. It was just to Breda's liking. They trespassed into the barroom easily. All was silent, except for soft sounds from the kitchen.
"Herbert, you go upstairs and bring the inn-keeper and his wife. Alfred – into the kitchen, get the maid here. I will go and take what's mine."
Alfred shrugged his shoulders and followed his lord's orders. While father and son went upstairs, he walked to the door leading from the barroom into the kitchen and opened it. Magda stood at the sink, washing dishes, softly warbling away. She was so drawn into her work, that she didn't notice the vampire behind her at all. So it was more than easy for Alfred to sling one arm around her waist, covering both of her arms with it, while pressing his other hand on her mouth. The blonde maid did not even have time to scream. Alfred had understood the count to not kill Magda. So he took her like this and dragged her into the barroom. He did barely took notice of her weak attempts at defense, so strong was he now.
It was not long until Herbert came back, pulling husband and wife along, not minding them much. Alfred didn't blame him – those two had a lot of weight together. They were unconscious.
A short time later Breda led young Sarah into the room, who was eyeing him like she was enchanted. Alfred remembered some of the things Herbert had told him and supposed that she really WAS enchanted. It was strange to see Sarah again. When he had arrived here for the first time, Sarah had been the definition of beauty for him. Now he found her plain and boring.
When Sarah saw her unconscious parents and the struggling maid, some of the enchantment seemed to lift and she looked upset.
"Mama, Papa?" she asked softly and wanted to rush to the two, but Breda held her back roughly by the arm. One nod to Herbert was enough and he came to him, holding Sarah and pressing a hand on her mouth, just like Alfred did with Magda. Alfred observed that Herbert's face appeared to be stony.
Breda went to the kitchen, took a pot and scooped water from the sink. He came back and poured the wet content of the pot over the two Chagal's, who started snortingly. The needed some seconds to realize, who had attacked them and then they looked as if they died on a heart-attack any moment now.
Breda approached Chagal, took him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him upward, until his toes were dangling a few inches over the ground. Chagal struggled, but the count was only staring at him – the air seemed to become thicker by the minute.
"Please...," Chagal began to beg eventually and as it happens the count let go of him unexpectedly, causing Chagal to fall painfully on his knees. The inn-keeper remained in that position. His wife moved now to imitate her husband's position. Following a gesture from his lord, Alfred let go of Magda and pushed her towards the others. Magda knelt down beside the Chagal's. Breda seemed to like that a lot.
Alfred had supposed that Magda would start screaming, as soon as he let go of her, but he had been wrong. The blonde maid trembled like a leaf, silent tears running down her pretty face.
"Please," she begged. "It's the night of the Lord's birth, please let me go.
Ah, Christmas eve. That explained the emptiness of the Jewish inn – all the other villagers were Christians.
"The only Lord around here is me," Breda reprimanded her sharply. "And some seem to have forgotten this," he raged on and fixated the inn-keeper. "Sell me, attack me, extradite me... My last hope for you Chagal is, that you kept your knifes pretty sharp."
Chagal's wife started to whimper and Magda had a crying fit. Chagal was as pale as death. What was the count up to?
"My daughter...," Chagal stammered.
"Oh, don't worry for her. She will have the honor to sweeten my return to my castle."
"Honor? All you will do is dishonor her," the inn-keeper hurled at him, throwing all caution to the winds. He would die tonight, those pitiless eyes told him so, so he could at least die with decency.
"Another word and I will do it here and now in front of your eyes," the count warned and it was plain that he meant it. Alfred gulped. No, his feeling had been right – he didn't like this at all. Sarah uttered gurgling sounds behind Herbert's merciless hand, her eyes wide-open.
"Alfred, go and bring me the biggest and sharpest knife from the kitchen." Alfred followed this order and his presentiment grew. On their journey they had prevented their victims from rising again by plunging boughs through their hearts. But Herbert had told him, that beheading was also a proved device. This alone held no terror for Alfred. It was more that his lord had not mentioned that they would suck them dry first.
He took a look around in the kitchen and spotted the knives hanging on a wall beside the stove. One of them looked like it would please the count and Alfred took it, having no idea that he had indeed chosen the butcher's knife. He took a deep breath and returned to the others, giving the knife to Breda.
Testing his weapon, Breda let his fingers glide over the blade and was satisfied, when a drop of blood appeared at once. Yes, his time for vengeance had come and it would be terrible. But still his victims wouldn't have to suffer much pain. Chagal could be happy tonight, that he had cared that well for his knives.
Alfred went over to Herbert, who was still holding Sarah. But the girl didn't struggle anymore and only watched in horror as the count walked over to the still crying maid. Magda screamed for the last time, when he stood behind her, tearing her head back and parting it from her body in one single sweep.
Alfred closed his eyes for a moment, while the muffled sounds behind him grew louder again, when Sarah started to struggle once more. Tears ran down her face now. Madame Chagal had fallen backwards, fainting, while the inn-keeper muttered incomprehensible words. Probably it was Yiddish. Breda didn't pause long and Madame Chagal shared Magda's fate within seconds. Sarah's scream rang even through Herbert's hand. She didn't see the death of her father, since she kept her eyes closed now. But she couldn't block the sound of his head falling on the ground.
Only his lord's order could bring Alfred to grab the three heads by their hairs and taking them outside. Herbert dragged Sarah along, who lay defenseless and sobbing in his arms. The count took the heads and impaled them on Chagal's fence. They'd be a warning for the villagers, to never mess with him anymore.
Then they boarded the coach and drove away, exactly in the same moment, as the church-bells began to ring to call all believers to Christmas Mass. Only that this year, it would be a requiem.
TBC