Hey everyone. My story slowly comes to an end, but there are a few more chapters for you. Here is the next one.
queenmedesa: gracias for almost always commenting. I'm glad you like my story.

Trial And Dance

The melody that floated through the room had a happy tune.

"Watch out; trespass!," Herbert called merrily as he crossed his right arm with Alfred's left. Alfred laughed and lost his train of thought, but he quickly looked back at the score and managed to continue playing again.

It was pure joy playing the piano four-handed with Herbert despite – or because – the prince deviated from the score all the time, doing his own thing. Alfred, on the other hand, needed the score – he did not have half as much talent as Herbert. But still, this was more fun than the wretched dancing.

Finally they reached the final note and while Alfred took his hands off the keys afterward, Herbert added a virtuoso jingling. "Well," he said, after he finished, "I don't know why you made such a fuss. You're quite good."

Alfred knew that Herbert only tried to be nice, but still the compliment felt good. Smiling, he rested his head on Herbert's shoulder, who buried his face at once in Alfred's blond locks.

They had retreated to the relative solitude of the music room, because the ballroom was too bustling for their liking. The whole (and not that big yet) staff of the castle along with some servants of tribunal-members, who had kindly offered their help, was preparing it for tonight's ball. The musicians, who had arrived from Kronstadt three nights early (since Herbert could not foretell when the tribunal would be complete), had already set up their instruments and were now practicing without visible (or audible) concept.

In the safety of the music room, Herbert had first played his beloved harp, while Alfred had listened with closed eyes. Soon he felt the wish to try himself on this instrument. Alfred was surprised when he realized that he could master the simple chords that Herbert showed him in almost no time. He had always believed that playing the harp would be very difficult. But his previous knowledge about playing the piano apparently helped him a lot. Soon after, they had switched to the piano and began to play four-handed for the first time.

"When, do you think, will the tribunal be ready?" Alfred murmured.

"I hope soon – I finally want to dance," Herbert said tensely. "What if there won't be any time left for it?"

But Herbert's fear proved to be unfounded, for in this exact moment the door opened and the count looked inside.

"Herbert, Alfred, will you come? The trial is about to start."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They followed the count at once through the labyrinthine passages into the same room where they had captured Kadir some weeks before. Alfred looked around surprised – there had been some changes. Seven chairs, covered with red velvet, stood on the low gallery. The chair in the middle was throne-like, with a higher backrest than the others. In the middle of the room, facing the gallery, stood a mighty wooden chair. There were cuffs attached to it. On the side of the room were some chairs filled with almost all the vampires, that currently dwelled in the castle and that were not members of the tribunal.

The members of the tribunal stood in the middle of the room talking but, when Breda entered along with Alfred and Herbert, they took their seats in the first row of the spectators, they also went to their chairs. It was Baptiste, who took the throne-like chair.

William sat beside the count in the first row. He had been immediately afflicted by Kadir's deeds and would testify.

"We can start, the defendant will be here any moment," Patrick announced and Baptiste nodded gratefully to the Irishman.

"Bring the defendant in," Baptiste commanded in a loud voice.

The door was opened and the carpenter and Baptiste's servant Alois brought Kadir into the room. Alfred was a bit shocked by the vampire's sight. It was the first time he saw him after he had been brought to the cells. If a vampire could look sick, they would look like Kadir. He was paler than a vampire was by nature and he looked very gaunt. Herbert had told him that he had not been bound, so he still could catch and feed from mice, despite missing an arm. But apparently only very few animals had passed by or they had been clever enough to avoid the place at some point. The untreated wound of the amputation looked ghastly. Alfred watched the reaction of the tribunal-members, but they didn't seem to mind the state of the defendant. Probably most vampires brought before the tribunal didn't look much better.

Kadir was placed in the chair in the middle and the cuffs bound his ankles and wrist at once magically, leaving the Ottoman chained and immobile. That had to be the work of Pedro with his telekinesis. Alfred was mesmerized by the interaction of the tribunal. What enemy could withstand these seven vampires combined? And all this without one of them even having to move a finger.

Baptiste bent forward slightly and regarded the defendant sharply. Then he asked: "What is your name?"

The Ottoman only stared back bleakly without saying a word.

Baptiste sighed and leaned back again. He waved with a hand and said: "Kazuo, would you?" The Japanese vampire showed no reaction, but Kadir acted at once.

"Kadir, third son of Mahmud," he said reluctantly but clearly.

"Do you know, why you're here for trial, Kadir? Do you know the accusations?", Baptiste continued.

If looks could kill, no one in this room would still be alive, least of all Baptiste, Alfred was sure. The Ottoman blinked at the Viennese hostilely, before answering: "I wanted to use every vampire's right to become my own lord. But this bastard didn't like it," he spit and jerked his head in Breda's direction. One could see that the count found it hard to stay calm. "But it will be like always – the fine lord will tell you his own version of events – lies, all of them – but everyone will believe them."

"If someone is lying or telling the truth – this will be my decision," Siliel cut between with a harsh voice.

Baptiste gave the French beauty a look and shook his head, to show that it was not her turn yet. He went on: "So you claim that you challenged your sire to a duel? I call Count Breda von Krolock as witness and prosecutor."

Breda rose and walked in front of the Tribunal. Respectfully he put a fist to his chest, bowing.

"Breda von Krolock – is it true, that this vampire is your creature and that he challenged you to a duel, as it is the right of every vampire?" Baptiste's voice sounded strict.

"Kadir is my creature. But he never challenged me to a duel."

"So I'll ask you now to place the accusation. What is it, that you blame Kadir for?"

"The destruction of all of my creatures, while I was absent from my castle, except for the two, that were with me at the time. Also the murder of my human servant during my absence, and an incendiary attack in Kronstadt – apparently aimed at me, but killing the vampire Robert, who had granted me accommodation in his house, destroying his entire clan along with him, except for one survivor."

Murmuring came from the chairs of the tribunal. Six vampires looked at the prosecutor in mild shock, all except for Siliel. That wasn't surprising. She would have read this all in Breda's thoughts long before.

Baptiste bent forward again. "These are severe accusations and numerous at that. Please, particularize the exact course of events, Your Excellency."

Alfred found it strange to watch Baptiste and the count interact so formally, knowing how friendly they usually were with each other. Breda continued telling the whole story, starting with the disastrous morning in Kronstadt, ending with finding the poor Koukól, who had died miserably.

When Breda was finished, Baptiste looked at Siliel invitingly, who said: "I can't detect a lie." Baptiste watched the other tribunal-members and asked: "Any further questions for His Excellency?"

Yassir nodded and asked: "How did Kadir lose an arm? It seems to have happened right before he had been brought to the cells." You could hear that he would only accept a good reason for the mutilation.

"When my son wanted to take Kadir to the cells, he was stabbed with a silver knife by him, getting injured. Kadir had also tried to stab Alfred, but I had already reacted and cut his arm with a sword."

Yassir nodded and leaned back.

"No more questions? Then I call the vampire William as witness."

William rose and took the place of Breda. He was way more nervous than the count, telling his story haltingly and complicated, but basically verifying the count's accusations. Siliel again verified the truth of his testimony.

"Kadir – the accusations against you are severe. Is there anything you can say in your defense?" Baptiste asked the Ottoman, not unfriendly.

The Ottoman seemed to fight an inner battle, but all he could state was: "He should have burned." He rolled his eyes wildly.

"Siliel, what do you say?" Baptiste asked.

Siliel pondered for a moment. "He doesn't lie," she announced to surprised gasps among the spectators. "He doesn't lie, because he tells his own truth. He believes in his words, his version of events."

The other members nodded in comprehension.

"Well – the tribunal will retreat for a moment to discuss the case and find a verdict. Siliel, would you be so kind as to scan Patrick's thinking NOW? I hate it, when he predicts the verdict. Patrick, you stay out of it, you got that?"

The Irishman only grinned and together they left the room through a door leading to a smaller side room. The spectators at once started to discuss, guessing what the verdict would probably be.

"What do you think – will they wall him in?" Alfred asked Herbert, but it was Breda who shook his head.

"I don't think so. That last statement from Siliel hinted that Kadir is not fully responsible for his deeds – he is out of his mind. Walling-in is the highest and hardest punishment the tribunal can hand out. If they classify Kadir to have diminished responsibility, it will be something else."

It took no longer than fifteen minutes until the tribunal came back into the room. While six vampires took their seats again, Baptiste remained standing.

"The tribunal decided unanimously, that the vampire Kadir is guilty as charged. Deeds of this degree usually would call for the maximum punishment, walling-in. But the tribunal has decided, that Kadir had no longer been in control of himself, when doing those crimes, so he cannot be held fully liable. Still, the vampire Kadir has to be destroyed at least.

There was disagreement, how this were to be brought about. In Pedro's and Katharina's opinion death by sun would be sufficient. The rest of the tribunal found that a more swingeing kind of destruction would be more suitable.

So this is the verdict of the tribunal: The vampire Kadir will face destruction by dead blood. Yassir will take Kadir with him to Saudi Arabia, where he will execute the verdict under his medical supervision.

The trial is closed hereby."

Murmurs filled the room at once as all the vampires rose, talking about the verdict in small groups. The carpenter and Alois wanted to take Kadir down to the cells again, but Yassir interrupted them.

"Stop – please, bring him into my chambers. I will take to his injuries there – he must be fit to travel," he ordered. The two servants looked at him uncomprehending, since they could speak no French – the language, the tribunal-members used among themselves. But Baptiste came to their help and translated the order. They nodded, taking Kadir as they followed the Arab out of the room.

Slowly the vampires scattered and went to make themselves ready for the upcoming ball.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Why is death by dead blood more swingeing than death by sun?" Alfred asked, while he and Herbert gave the finishing touches to their outfits.

"Well, it is more painful and long-drawn-out. There are three ways of destruction used as punishment. The fastest and probably painless way is beheading. The next level is death by sun. That's relatively fast too, but way more painful. And death by dead blood, what Kadir will be facing now – the vampire is force-fed the blood of a corpse, which causes a slow and extremely painful poisoning. They say it's like slowly burning from the inside out. It lasts for up to three nights and days."

Herbert tugged on Alfred's suit once more before retreating some steps and regarding him critically. He gestured Alfred to turn around. Resigned to his fate, Alfred spread his arms a bit and turned. He was quite relieved when he finished his turn and could see satisfaction on Herbert's face. Herbert came closer again and caught his lips for a kiss.

"You're looking so beautiful, Chéri. This suit is really perfect for you," he whispered. "And I can't wait to get you out of it again later," he added lewdly.

Alfred chuckled. "Oh, you don't have the slightest idea how much I'm looking forward to this moment. And not only because it will mean that this whole dancing is over."

"Actually, I feel like the real dance will not begin until then. A dance you're not failing completely in for a change, as I might add," Herbert teased and Alfred stepped a foot away from the prince, since he could not guarantee for his composure. The green suit really fitted him very well, but the trousers were quite narrow too.

Herbert looked splendid. His long hair was bound back in a strict plait, which highlighted the noble features of his face. Pants and tailcoat were pale lilac, which harmonized with Alfred's dark green color very well. Beneath the tailcoat Herbert wore a white shirt with some ruffles and one of his favorite pieces, a lilac belt. This belt was the eye-catcher of his outfit, since it sparkled very much. Alfred had tried hard, but in vain, to talk Herbert out of it.

Now they crossed their arms and walked together through the castle to the ballroom. It looked splendid, floated with the light from hundreds upon hundreds of candles. The decoration had found its place even without Herbert's constant surveillance and now Alfred was finally able to see the connection between the colors of the decoration and Herbert's outfit. The prince had really done all that was in his power to be the center of attention tonight. Only that this prospect didn't make Alfred particularly happy.

Some of the guests were in the ballroom already and the musicians played softly in the background. Gaby, who cut a fine figure in her regional costume, hurried around with a tray, offering glasses of bloodwine to every newcomer. Herbert just took one of the glasses without minding much, but Alfred smiled at Gaby, saying "Thank you." As usual, Gaby was not used to such friendly behavior and, as such, reacted with confusion, not knowing how to handle the situation. Alfred looked after her sadly, when she bustled away eventually. He hadn't dared to talk to the count another time about this topic and now Breda had his hands full with being a good host anyway.

Patrick soon joined them and said: "Yassir has already left with the convict and his staff – he has always been a bit distinct. And you wouldn't have expected Katharina and her wolves to stay one minute longer than necessary or even to attend a ball. With people in the same room. Everyone could have foretold her departure, they wouldn't need my talent for it. But all the others will come. That room here is really pretty and your father said, that's due to you, Herbert?"

They chatted with Patrick, while the room slowly filled with vampires. There would still be way less vampires than on previous midnight balls, but there were enough to fill the dance floor and not making it look ridiculous. Finally His Excellency entered, leading an unearthly beautiful Siliel on his arm. While the count wore his usual black, Siliel wore a dress of snow-white cloth. A very valuable looking silver belt underlined her slim waist and she wore a silver diadem in her ash-blonde hair. Beside belt and diadem, her violet eyes were the only jewelry she wore.

Breda nodded to everyone, leading Siliel to the dance floor. The band began to play a minuet on Breda's sign and they began to dance. Breda von Krolock was certainly not a bad dancer, but all eyes were drawn to Siliel, this nymphet, moving with a slinky elegance and grace that even Herbert had to nod in acknowledgment.

Alfred was so mesmerized that he almost forgot his own fate. But when Herbert pulled him rather harshly toward the dance floor, he remembered. They lined up with the other dancers and the dance started. Alfred had to admit that it was easier to dance to actual music, than to imaginary beats. He found it easier to keep the rhythm. So he survived the minuet without any accidents. He would have loved to leave the dance floor afterward, but not with Herbert! The prince held Alfred in an iron-grip and Alfred could flee neither him nor the dance floor, until the band made a first break.

Quickly Alfred retreated into the hindmost corner, grabbing for a glass of bloodwine. Herbert followed him with sparkling eyes.

"Isn't it wonderful? The band is really good and I have to say that you're doing great. Thank you, Chéri," he said, before placing a soft kiss on his mouth.

Alfred put some space between them with a small "Hmphf" - not here in front of all these people! Moreover it seemed to have slipped Herbert's attention that Alfred didn't find anything wonderful about dancing – he didn't really amuse himself. While on the dance floor he felt constant tension and terror of failure, but certainly no amusement.

"Oh Chéri, what shall I do?" Herbert asked chuckling. Hell – not even his father showed such dislike for dancing.

"You could leave me alone for this turn?" Alfred suggested hopefully, when the band started playing again.

"Oh, but not THIS dance?" Herbert whined heartbreakingly and looked at Alfred with puppy-eyes. Alfred sighed and put his glass back on the table. No – he couldn't Herbert deny this dance – it was one of those bringing along the most bodily contact. So he followed his beaming consort on to the dance floor again.

This time Herbert released Alfred indeed after only three dances, when one of Siliel's guards asked the prince for a dance. Alfred went off the dance floor relieved, but had to learn that he didn't like Herbert dancing with another man either. The French man had long black hair and moved with a grace similar to his mistress. He couldn't hold a candle to him. Hopefully Herbert would still come back to him afterwards.

When the band took its next break, Alfred went to Herbert and snatched him away from the black-haired man. Herbert was both, amused and delighted by Alfred's look at the Frenchman.

"Jealous, Chéri?"

"Pfff," was the only sound Alfred made. He seemed to be lost for words often this night.

Pedro joined them for a chat, since his friend Patrick had rushed away suddenly, frowning. The Irishman had looked for the count, who sat in a quieter part of the room, talking to Baptiste. Hastily he whispered some urgent words in Breda's ear and the count rose in alarm.

In this very moment the musicians returned to their instrument and the violinist called: "For the next dance – ladies' choice!"

At once the vampiresses swarmed out to pick their partners for the dance, even Gaby went to find one, giggling. Since there were much more male vampires, the ladies had the agony of choice. Gaby was drawn to her sire, as must have been expected, but one look of him was enough for her to ask Baptiste instead, who granted it to her, as it was tradition. Alfred smiled when a red-haired vampiress from Pedro's staff asked Herbert for a dance – a woman, that was no problem for him at all.

The smile died on his face, when Siliel appeared in front of him out of thin air, smiling at him and offering her hand with a small bow. SHE wanted to dance with HIM? No, please, anything but this! It was not only the fact that it was the same Siliel, who had followed him for the past several weeks, making him nervous, but never talking to him. It was the Siliel who could read your thoughts. It was also the Siliel who had enchanted him with her ability to dance, while he had the elegance of a Russian matryoshka.

But it was unwritten law, that the male partner won't deny the lady's wish, so Alfred took Siliel's hand after some awkward seconds had passed, letting himself being led to the dance floor. The looks Herbert gave him mirrored his own horror.

When all ladies had found a partner the band started to play. Alfred would later not be able to tell how he came through those minutes of maximum strain and fear, but Herbert's insistence on regular dancing lessons now proved to be worth a mint. Alfred had automatized most of the steps by now, no matter how stiffly he made them. To lead was the hard part – he was used to be led by Herbert. Moreover Alfred didn't know where to touch the French lady without seeming impertinent. Siliel was so slender that he seemed to touch her in prohibited places no matter where he put his hand.

When the dance was finally over, Alfred forgot his vampirism for a moment and thanked God for it. Hastily he bowed and thanked Siliel for the dance, only to flee from the dance floor afterward. He basically ran to Herbert, who waited for him with a strange look and saw out of the corner of his eyes, that the count was heading in the same direction.

Only when he reached Herbert, Alfred realized that he wasn't alone. Like a shadow Siliel had followed him and chuckled, when she saw his terrified look.

Herbert offered Alfred his hand. "Come on, Chéri, this dance will be ours again, won't it?"

Alfred wanted to clutch Herbert's hand like a straw of rescue – when Siliel took his arm, laughing.

"Oh Herbert, you will have your Chéri back soon enough. I'd like to retire now and I will need – some company. Alfred will surely be so nice to escort me into my chambers?"

Alfred's brain was empty. For the first time since he had started to try exactly that in Siliel's company. But he didn't feel better for it. He opened the mouth for a reply but closed it again, as he realized, that he was lost for words again. Herbert looked like a vampire on a hunt, ready to strike any second. It was in this moment, that Alfred heard a voice inside his head – the count's voice.

"Do what she says."

The count and Patrick appeared at Herbert's side. Herbert's facial expression changed and Alfred could tell, that he got the same order from their sire.

Scared, Alfred looked at Siliel, who was still smiling, nodded shortly and offered her his arm. She took the arm immediately and together they left the ballroom.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As soon as the door was closed behind Alfred and Siliel, Herbert ran in the opposite direction, to doors that led outside in the castle yard.

He stood there, leaving the noise and the light of the ball behind, silent tears streaming down his face, while despair took control over him.

Why? Why did she do this? She'd know exactly how he felt. Why did she feel the need to torture him like this. To torture Alfred?

He had closed down all of the emotional connections to Alfred. It was mere self-protection. The idea of what Siliel was about to do with Alfred was enough, pure torment. It wasn't the thing itself. It wouldn't bother Herbert that much, not really. As long as Alfred came back to him tomorrow. But the way Siliel had eyed him during the last weeks? She had planned this step carefully.

She would take him away. His one and only. For that was Alfred for him. His heart hurt for the fear of losing Alfred.

The wind had freshened again and played with his fine long hair that had loosened from his plait, tearing on his collar. Winter came back for a last interlude. Herbert could see his useless breath in the air and felt how the traces of tears on his cold cheeks froze. It was more than cold.

Suddenly Herbert felt a familiar presence. He didn't hear him coming, but he knew that his father was behind him. The count put a hand on his shoulder, but what could he do? Comfort him? Certainly not.

His father was the only one he was forced to bow to – he should be the only one. But now he had to bow down to Siliel as well – one of the most ignorant persons in the whole world, as he knew now.

"Come on," his father said. It wasn't an order this time, but a compassionate request. The father didn't guide his son back to the ballroom, but through a side-door into an almost never used passageway, that lead them into the crypt unseen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alfred felt like a convict on his way to the gallows, walking alongside Siliel to her chambers. He tried contacting Herbert desperately but the prince seemed to have shut off all of their connections. Alfred could not blame him. But now he felt completely lost and alone.

They did not talk until they reached the vampiress' rooms. Alfred could not prevent his thoughts dancing through his mind again, even though he probably should not think them in the presence of Siliel.

What did she want from him? Well, there seemed to be an obvious reason, but was that really her aim? The order of his sire had been clear and definite and Alfred knew he could not fight against it, if it came to that. But would he even be able to? Yes, she was beautiful. But she really still looked like a child too.

They entered her bed-chamber, where a fire in the fireplace was affording warmth against the returning cold. The crackling of the flames created a romantic atmosphere – if only he could be here with Herbert instead of Siliel.

Siliel guided him into the middle of the room, where he stood, not knowing what he should do or even what was asked of him. Siliel turned around and smiled at him with those unfathomable eyes. She began fumbling around with her belt and before Alfred could say or do something, her dress fell on the floor.

TBC