"Of course I’m right. There is no other way to read it. The Book of Blood and the writings of Thomas of Trent all point to it being so.”
"Who was this Thomas of Trent again?” the Grand Master asked for the crowd. The Librarian scowled in disgust but the Master went on, "Seeing as not all of us have had the benefit of sixty years of living in a library.”
The Librarian glowered even more but relented, "A crusader, one of a whole family line who gave their lives to God and the fight against evil. He roamed Medieval Europe and his writings relate one of the first encounters with the Dracyl."
"Ah yes, well it is a good theory, Brother Raphael. Perhaps we need to look at it a bit more.”
"There’s no time. We have to act now. The solstice will soon be upon us and … ” He fell silent as Michael approached the middle of the sitting. The Grand Master looked quizzically at him,
"Well?”
"Master, Brothers, I have a plan. I think that the Librarian may have found something and, as he said, we have to act now. I beg of you all to hear me out and give me your blessing for the mission ahead.”
They listened as he laid his plans out before them but Michael knew they would never give their blessing and consent. The Order was now Himmler’s pet and the Grand Master was but a puppet for Heinrich’s fantasies.
He would have to go it alone.
Chapter 29
Ukraine
Von Struck smiled as he watched Rohleder and the boy called Paul chatting together. Rohleder was cleaning Helga, his machine gun, and telling a story. Paul sat next to him and listened intently. He had followed Rohleder like a lost puppy from the first and Von Struck smiled to himself as he thought of his hard drinking, whore-mongering comrade-in-arms as a father figure.
"Whatever next?" he grinned to himself.
"So what’s the plan for tonight, Boss?" It was Henning. They needed to find a new hide in the next few weeks. The patrols they had sent out had all been on foot and they had come up with nothing. It was time to do a long-range patrol on horseback.
"Well, I asked Jurgen - I mean Arak - if they could keep an eye out for a suitable spot but he didn’t even bother to answer. So it’s up to us. We’ll ride out early evening. I think I’ve found somewhere on one of the maps, so we’ll go there to check it out.” He’d relented on not telling the men about Jurgen.
Henning looked across to where the two women were cooking over an open fire, "And what about the civilians?”
"The women, you mean, Wolfgang?" he smiled as he asked.
"Yeah," Henning turned to face him and smiled back, "the women.”
"You can stay behind and look after them with one man. Pick someone and keep it in your trousers.”
Henning laughed. "I can’t promise anything.”
They rode out under a cloudless sky. Every star had turned out to light their way and the going was good. They stuck to the tracks. It wasn’t tactically clever but the Russians used cavalry as well and the idea was that they would be in the midst of the infantry before they realised they were German.
Henning had stayed behind with Muschinski. Rohleder had voiced his doubts as to the wisdom of leaving the two biggest womanisers alone with the women, however he’d smilingly backed down when Nau mentioned his interest in little boys.
The horses hadn’t had much exercise since their arrival at the quarry and Aphrodite, Von Struck’s horse, was puffing after the first hour. They slowed down to a canter but didn’t stop. Von Struck’s sixth sense started to tingle as Andreas Schneiderat called out, "Boss, we’ve got company.”
Immediately Von Struck reached for his pistol and scanned the way ahead for Russians.
"No, above us. It’s the vampires," called Grand.
He looked up to see the silhouettes of the Count’s soldiers jetting through the treetops. There seemed to be no end of them and Von Struck felt a trickle of cold sweat run down his back as he watched their soundless parade.
"I don’t know about you, Boss, but I shit myself more and more every time I see those things." Rohleder whispered. They came to a stop to watch them stream by. Nobody moved or uttered a word until they had passed.
"I’m glad they’re on our side," Gruhn said to nobody in particular as the last of them passed out of sight.
"I’m not even glad about that," Rohleder answered him.
"They’re not on anybody’s side. They’ve got their own agenda. The more I see of what happened to Muntner, the more I doubt the wisdom of having any dealings with them at all,” Von Struck whispered to them all.
"Amen to that," Rohleder agreed.
* * *
Arak didn’t always like to lead from the front but tonight he was hungry. He hadn’t tasted blood in days but he knew that on this night he would slake his thirst. The vampires were strict on the issue of who fed and when, and Arak, who had devised a rotation plan for the lean times, stuck to the system as closely as his men.
However, tonight there would be rich pickings for all and there would be no waiting hungry on the side as his men took their fill.
Tonight they would all feed.
The target was a regiment of Siberian infantry based temporarily in a low valley east of their hide. They had been spotted by one of Arak’s scout groups and now their time had come. After tonight the regiment would no longer exist.
They arrowed through the tree tops like silent rockets and passed over the Germans on their agitated mounts. Arak saw Von Struck’s men in the dark as a trace of hot arteries all flowing to the pumping muscle of a heart. He could hear their collective pulse and smell their loathing for him and his kind. He smiled to himself as he passed over, knowing that soon they would not need the humans and he would be free to do with them as he pleased.
Shortly the ground fell away and the valley loomed out in front of them. They swooped down through the branches and onto the first of the sentries, slashing them with their long blades. The vampires pounced on them like starving pigs to the swill and in seconds the guards were noiselessly slaughtered. They fell on the encampment like a black rain and they took their first victims virtually simultaneously. Swords held at the ready, they moved through the fir trees like avenging demons, snatching the terrorized Russians at will.
Arak made directly for the regimental commander’s tent. The Russian infantry were nearly all peasant farmer boys who were as familiar with the supernatural as their city dwelling comrades were with cars or electricity. Their superstitious background made them excellent prey for his men and their unbridled fear paralysed their limbs and sweetened the blood.
The Commander rushed out of his tent and straight into the stinging caress of Arak’s sword. He clutched the blade at the entry wound and sank wordlessly to his knees, eyes wide in fear and incredulity. Arak pulled the blade and let it fall to the ground in his eagerness to gorge himself on his quarry. He swatted the ineffectual flailing of the Russian and opened his neck up with one swipe of his talons. The blood spurted and he knelt down to gobble greedily at the opened gash.
A while later, Arak moved through his men as they fed, wiping the juice of the regimental commander off his chin. No words of acknowledgment were spoken to him. First they would feed and only then could he restore order and discipline.
The feasting over, his soldiers sated, Arak gave the order to dismember the corpses. This was not normally the vampire way but he wanted to spread terror among Ivan’s rank and file and what better way to do that than wanton carnage?
* * *
The mission was unsuccessful and Von struck started to resign himself to a long stay at the quarry. The stars made the going a lot easier and the squad were in high spirits as they walked the last couple of hundred yards to the hide.
Henning was waiting for them. He looked perturbed and Von Struck knew automatically that something was wrong.
They crowded around and Henning started straight in. "Boss, something’s happened. There’s been no enemy movement and all was quiet. Muschi stood first sta
g on guard, so I helped the women to sort the camp out.” He stopped to look at Rohleder and then carried on. "I’m not sure what happened but I heard the boy screaming and … ”
"What, is he alright? Where is he?”” Rohleder cut in.
"He’s fine, he’s with his mother. He went into the mine about an hour after the Count’s men came back, don’t ask me why, and the next I know he’s screaming and hysterical. Like I said, he’s with his mother but he’s very pale and he’s not saying a word.”
Rohleder wordlessly strode off. Henning looked to Von Struck and briefly raised his eyebrows in a facial shrug.
Rohleder found them both in the undergrowth. She was sitting on a blanket. The boy lay with his head on her lap. She crooned softly to him while stroking his head. He felt like an intruder and was tempted to turn away but she saw him and smiled.
"Is he alright?” It was lame but it was all he could think of. She was pretty, young and slim, but the well-defined knot of muscle in her bare arms and the dark patches under her eyes told the story of hardship and toil. Over the last few weeks he had felt inadequate and self-effacing when they had spoken, but as he concentrated on the boy’s pallor and appearance, for once his scarring seemed to be at the back of his mind. He approached them both and knelt down to study him better. He was pale but there was no blood or marks to be seen so he didn’t think he’d been bitten.
"Are you alright, little man?” He reached a hand forward and laid it on his shoulder. "Tell me what happened.”
The boy stayed silent, Rohleder looked up to his mother. It was then that he noticed she was crying.
"Should I go?" he asked.
She shook her head and roughly wiped a tear away. "No, stay here." She looked up and added, "Please.”
Rohleder nodded and, without a thought for his own perceived unsightliness, he reached to her and stroked her hair.
"Don’t cry. He needs you to be strong.”
She sniffled loudly and nodded. Her acceptance of the gesture seemed natural and appropriate, and as he let his hand fall away, he realised that she was the first woman he had touched since his wife had left him an aeon ago.
Unexpectedly, Paul turned briefly to look at Rohleder and turned away again. Without looking at him, he asked, "Are they Russians, those men in the mines, are they Russians?”
"No, they’re on our side." He wanted to say more, to reassure him, but he couldn’t find anything to say. There was nothing to say because he didn’t like what was in the mine either.
"But they’re not German, are they?" he asked, and then pleading "Are they?”
"I don’t know what they are but they’re on our side and they won’t harm you, I promise you that.”
She looked up and into his eyes. Rohleder inwardly shrank from her gaze but forced himself to look back at her. Shocked, he saw she was smiling at him. A barrage of emotions assaulted him from all sides and for the second time in the space of a month he felt the sharp prickle of tears welling up.
"My name is Stephanie.”
"I know, Paul told me." He averted his eyes back down to the boy and blinked his smarting eyes. "I’m … ”
"Michael,” she finished for him. "Paul told me too. He’s told me a lot about you. Where do come from?”
"Hanover, well Langenhagen really, but my last address was in the city itself, not far from the Steintor part of town, so I was in the nicer area." Steintor was the infamous red light district in Hanover and he smiled to emphasise that he was joking.
She laughed back at him and Rohleder was suddenly aware that here was an attractive young lady actually smiling at him and sharing a joke. Is she seeing through the scars and really looking at me, he dared to hope. Henning shouted his name and Rohleder turned to go
"We’ve got to sort out the sentry rota for tonight and I don’t want to get the graveyard shift again.”
She nodded and looked down to Paul. He took it as his leave to go, pausing as she looked back up at him again. "If you want, you can eat with us tonight. That’s only if you want to, that is." She was smiling at him again and Rohleder’s heart did a flip.
"I’d love to. No, better still, I’d be honoured." He nodded, smiled and left them alone.
"What happened?" Henning asked.
"The boy went in to the mine. He’s ok but he had a shock. Remember how terrified we were when we saw the Count’s men for the first time? Multiply that by about a thousand and that’s what the kid’s going through now.”
"You can say what you want, those ghouls are evil. They shouldn’t be on our side. We’re the good guys!" It was Muschinski.
Henning laughed. "If we’re the good guys, why is the whole world against us?”
"Are you trying to tell me that the Ruskies are the good guys?”
"No, but we’re no better than them … ”
"And they’re no better than us." Muschinski squared up to Henning, who now looked puzzled as to his intent.
They froze in this position until Rohleder broke in. "Come, on boys, we don’t fight among ourselves. It’s a shit war and the bastards who started it are sitting on their fat arses laughing at us, laughing at us stupid bastards while we suck the shitty end of the stick. The last thing we need is to start beating each other up." He looked to the two of them. Henning, who hadn’t taken Muschinski’s challenge seriously anyway, shrugged and held out his hand. Muschinski smiled sheepishly at Henning and took his shovel-like hand in his.
"Sorry, Wolfgang, I don’t know why I get so worked up about it. It’s all a load of bollocks anyway, I just want it to end. I hate being the bad guy. Even the Wehrmacht hate us and some of them are just as psychotic as the SS.”
"I know," Henning nodded. "But when Ivan starts getting tough, they always scream for the SS to sort it out for them. Don’t take it to heart, Muschi, it’s not worth it. We all fucked up joining the SS in the first place, so accept it and just be grateful you’re in a troop of like-minded Party dropouts.”
Muschinski sniggered. "There’s no way they’d let him in the Party anyway," he nodded towards Rohleder. "Too ugly for the shining National Socialists.”
"But a rabid Party hardliner if ever there was one," Henning rejoined.
"Oh well done, Laurel and Hardy. Hilarious,” Rohleder grinned. "Now that you two drama queens have sorted out who the good guys are, I need to know something. Henning, do the vampires see the civilians as German," he paused to incline his head to Muschinski and sarcastically smiled, "and therefore as friendlies, or are they to be seen as food?”
Henning looked bemused, "Well, I suppose they … I would have thought that they see them as … ”
"Food," Rohleder finished for him.
"No, they can’t do that!”
"They probably can, Muschi, and what’s more they probably do." Rohleder sounded philosophical but Henning noted the calm formality of suppressed dread in his voice.
"Let me talk with the boss, Michael. He’ll put things straight." Henning patted him on the back. He wanted to make a joke of his attachment to the boy but he stopped himself and walked off to talk to Von Struck.
"I shouldn’t think so, Wolfgang," Von Struck answered. "If that was the case, why are the civilians still alive now?”
"I don’t know. Perhaps they haven’t yet registered their presence, as it were. Perhaps they’re just not hungry or they’re saving them for a rainy day. I don’t know but I would be happier if I knew for sure." He paused and added, "And I’m pretty sure Michael would be happier too. He’s gotten very attached to the boy and he’s probably got designs on the mother.”
Von Struck nodded. "Right, well I had better ask Jurgen, er, Arak, as soon as possible. Don’t say anything to Michael. I’ll find out tonight before they go out.”
"I hope you get the right answer or there could be trouble, and I don’t want to have to scrap with a vampire again.”
It was a clear spring evening, lit by a burning moon and a billion stars. Von Struck waited at the entrance to the mine for the vam
pires. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought of this line of threat. It was just another sign of the ever-increasing burnout he was experiencing, in fact what they were all going through. None of them had had any sustained time off from operations in years. This was meant to have been their rest and recuperation from the front.
"A cushy posting in friendly Romania. Ha!" he spoke aloud to himself and jumped when the unsettling growl of one of the vampires rumbled from within the mine,
"Madness comes quick to those who are loud in their own company.” It was Arak.
"Jurgen," he had decided to steadfastly refuse the notion that Jurgen was now Arak. "I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk.”
Arak rose out of the mine and stood in front of him. His tunic and boots were scuffed and tattered. His face looked dirty and his long talon-like nails were black. He smelt of putrefaction and earth.
"Well?" The bottomless power of his voice raised every hair on Von Struck’s body. There was no doubting the predatory malice in the beast that stood before him.
Could this really be Jurgen?
Von Struck steadied his wavering mettle. "It’s about the civilians.” He paused to let it sink in. Arak seemed to be occupied with something else so Von Struck pushed his face into his line of sight to get his attention. "I’m not sure how you and your men view them but they are German civilians and I won’t have them being molested, or worse, by your men. Do you understand?”
Arak didn’t answer immediately. He looked through the trees to where the civilians had set up their camp and, as if seeing them for the first time, his eyes widened and closed as he smiled to himself.
"I asked you if you understood me.”
Arak looked back at him and, ever so slowly, nodded that he understood.
"If any harm comes to them … ”
"You’ll do what, human? I was given no direction in regards to the civilians from the master and even now he doesn’t speak to me. They are, as I see it, cattle.”
The Division of the Damned Page 16