“And in France,” Varanus said.
Ekaterine’s expression was of shock.
“They’re feeding it,” she whispered. “Feeding it.”
On the hill, the beast licked its lips with its tongue, lapping up the remnants of blood that covered its nose and chin.
“My lord,” Robert said, bowing low to the beast and turning his throat toward it in a bizarre gesture of obeisance. “I come before you with news. My kinswoman, Babette, may consent to relinquish the lands of Henri de Rouen.”
The stranger in the shadows let out a loud, braying laugh. In a rough, growling voice, he said:
“She will not. You are a fool to think that she would. You will only get it from her by force, and you would not dare use force against family, would you?”
Robert scowled at the stranger but kept his head tilted down, not quite so submissive as he was toward the beast, but still in deference to a superior.
“I have offered to tell her things in exchange,” Robert replied. “To give her certain knowledge that she ought to have been given before now.”
The beast snorted but gave no other reply.
“That is not your decision to make,” the stranger said. “We know little of where she has been these past fifteen years and nothing of the company she now keeps. What do you know of her family? Her husband? Her children? Of that woman who is her companion?”
“I—” Robert began.
“Do not interrupt me!” the stranger snapped. “You know nothing. And yet, you are prepared to reveal all to her in exchange for a piece of land.”
“It is not just a piece of land,” Robert said. “It is of value to our family, to our race. We cannot allow the Franks to take possession of our holy sites!”
“And you fear that they will?” the stranger asked. With the gruffness of his voice, it was difficult to make out any sort of inflection, but Varanus gauged that there was a degree of amusement at the thought.
“She will not reside there,” Robert said. “Once she departs here, she will go tramping back to Russia, never to set eyes on the Normandy estate again! Even if the des Louveteaux do not annex the property outright, they shall make use of it in Cousin Babette’s absence! There can be no question of that.”
In the darkness, Varanus looked at Ekaterine, who looked back with eyebrows raised. They said nothing, but each knew the sentiments the other conveyed.
I will be damned before either the des Louveteaux or the Blackmoor Varanuses set foot on my property, Varanus thought.
Clearly, she would have to make arrangements, if all and sundry planned to trespass on her grandfather’s estate. Guards and groundskeepers were certainly in order.
“I will personally monitor the condition of the estate,” the stranger said.
He looked toward the beast, which lay hunched over in the doorway of the barrow, licking its chops like a dog that had become tremendously bored.
“I have the authority,” the stranger continued. “And my kinsman will not challenge it.”
Robert looked down, his expression angry, but he did not protest the statement.
In the darkness, Ekaterine murmured in Varanus’s ear, “They are talking to it as if it understands them. Why do they not run in fear? And why has it not eaten them?”
Varanus bit her lip.
“I think that there is something foul and rotten in my family,” she whispered in reply.
The stranger tilted his head a little and half turned. Perhaps he had heard them. Varanus quickly fell silent. She still could make out little of the stranger’s features, but as he turned, she did manage to identify pale eyes and a thick beard, dark gray in color, if her eyes did not deceive her. The man was older, likely a senior member of Robert’s cousins.
One of the men who conspired to rob her of her birthright.…
All such thoughts were quickly put out of mind as the beast in the doorway rose into a sitting position, so terribly like a man for all its bestial form. Robert and the stranger immediately fell silent, and old Silas slowly lowered himself to his knees and all but kowtowed to the creature, his face planted just above the dirt.
The beast licked its lips again and said, in a deep and rumbling voice:
“You claim mastery over the lands of Henri de Rouen, and so you shall have them. Protect our sacred places from the Franks, for they shall covet them as all must covet them.”
The stranger bowed his head slightly, though it caused Varanus unease to realize that he treated the creature almost in the manner of an equal, far different from Robert, who kept his eyes downcast toward the fire.
“As you will,” the stranger said.
“And you, Robert son of Edmund,” the beast continued, “you shall not gift Babette granddaughter of William with such knowledge as you have offered. For it is not your place to reveal our mysteries to the uninitiated.”
Varanus looked at Ekaterine, who was staring toward the beast and its assembly with wide eyes. Her lips were parted slightly, and she looked stricken with horror. Varanus knew what troubled her so, for it was the same realization that she herself had made in the pit below the des Louveteaux house a year and a half earlier:
The beasts can talk. And there are men that serve them.
And, Varanus now knew, her own family was among those men.
“Yes, lord,” Robert said, bowing his head further. “Pardon me for my transgression.”
The beast snorted a little, and this seemed to be a statement of assent, for Robert became slightly more at ease.
“In the meantime,” he said, “I shall endeavor to marry Babette’s line back into ours.”
“This is acceptable,” the beast rumbled. “You shall do this.”
The stranger seemed almost to laugh, and he said, rather snidely:
“Good luck.”
As he spoke, the stranger sniffed the air again and looked back into the darkness toward Varanus and Ekaterine. Varanus stiffened as the pale eyes looked directly at her, but she remained motionless, and soon the stranger looked back toward Robert and the beast.
“I think we should go,” Varanus whispered to Ekaterine.
Ekaterine nodded quickly, her face still pale with shock at what she had just seen.
Varanus led her back to the protrusion of stone and into the passage. It was black as pitch, of course, but Varanus felt certain that she remembered the path back. There were only two turns she needed to concern herself with: first to the left when their tunnel reached the main corridor, and then to the right when they reached the crossroads beneath the church.
She led Ekaterine by the hand through the choking darkness, feeling her way along the wall with her fingertips. It would not do to become lost down there, not without a lantern. They might wander for hours before finding a way out, and it was vital that they returned home before Robert.
As they traveled down the main passage, Ekaterine found her voice again.
“They can speak,” she said, her voice trembling.
“They can,” Varanus said. “In Normandy there were creatures beneath the des Louveteaux house that spoke. When the des Louveteaux planned to sacrifice Alistair…I mean Friedrich…he was to be given to those beasts.”
Ekaterine gasped at the thought.
“Why did you not tell me all of it?” she asked.
“What was I to say?” Varanus replied. “What words were I to use when I could hardly explain it to myself.”
There was a pause, and then, though she could not see it, she felt certain that Ekaterine nodded in agreement.
“Of course,” Ekaterine said. “I suppose that is reasonable. Did you know that your relations…treated with these things?”
“I did not,” Varanus said. “Not until now. But I feared it. I think that there has been sacrifice to these monsters in this land since the time of the Celts, or even before.”
“The pit in the barrow.” Ekaterine’s voice sounded hollow.
“Yes,” Varanus said. She felt her pulse q
uickening, which was an unusual experience for any Shashavani, especially one of the living. “It occurs to me that there is no other way in or out of the barrow except that pit. And we both saw that the chamber beneath it is larger than just a hole.” She swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. “For how long have the people of this place committed atrocities in honor of those creatures, I wonder. It must be countless generations.”
She continued along in the darkness, down the main passage, her fingertips her only guide. Presently, she came to realize that she had a sort of sense of place and movement, even though sight was denied to her. She anticipated each gentle curve with near perfect accuracy, turning her feet so that she did not run into the wall as it meandered. And each time the mouth of an adjoining passage loomed nearby, she sensed its presence moments before her fingertips were cast into nothingness, and in turn, she felt the return of the old familiar wall a moment before she touched it again on the other side.
She gripped Ekaterine’s hand tightly, not from fear of the dark but rather from a fear of losing her in it.
“I wonder if the monks of the priory had something to do with these practices,” Ekaterine said. “Perhaps the tales of witchcraft and murder were true.”
“I think it is so,” Varanus said.
“Good God,” Ekaterine exclaimed. “And to think, that man Silas is one of them! And I spoke to him in the ruins! For all I know, he planned to kidnap me and feed me to that creature!”
“He would have been in for a surprise,” Varanus said, chuckling. She thought for a few moments and added, “You know, I think he was spying on us when we went into the crypts the other day.”
“Oh?”
“Robert knew about it,” Varanus said. “He said we were observed. It must have been Silas.”
“Yes,” Ekaterine agreed. “Unless it was the beast that saw us, and it complained about the intrusion.”
The idea was so absurd that the two of them shared a fit of laughter at the thought. Then, presently, it occurred to both of them that it was not so absurd an idea after all, and their laughter died off into the darkness.
They hurried on. Every so often, Varanus glanced back over her shoulder into the pitch darkness, her ears twitching at every imagined noise and echo, searching for the sound of footfalls.
She had always known that there was something rotten in Blackmoor. Now it was beginning to make sense. The sullen villagers. The ruined priory. The Christian buildings constructed in accordance with pagan design. The tunnels. And even the blasphemy of cannibalism—a deranged attempt at the emulation of her family’s beast-god.
And of course, there was that one last realization, the final piece of the puzzle that lurked in the back of Varanus’s mind:
The malformed body in the crypt. Alfonse des Louveteaux’s own bestial appearance the night she had killed him. The size and shape of Robert’s strange guest, whose pale eyes had so closely matched those of each and every one of the beasts Varanus had ever encountered.…
But she kept those thoughts locked away, refusing even to bring them to light. For though contemplating them might bring everything into alignment, Varanus felt certain that the very realization would unravel her mind once and for all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The following morning, a letter arrived for Varanus. She received it from Robert as she sat at the table for breakfast, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with each of her relations, all with little sincerity from either party. The letter was addressed to “Princess Shashavani, The Manor, Blackmoor”. She opened it as she prepared to eat her boiled egg. What she read took her quite by surprise, not least of all because it was written entirely in Georgian:
Varanus,
You are overdue at home, and your prolonged absence is causing significant difficulties for me. Return to London at once.
—Iosef
Varanus folded the letter and tucked it into her sleeve. Not only was the language Georgian, the handwriting was definitely Iosef’s. She had corresponded with him long enough to know his script at a glance. As she ate her egg, the full significance of the letter began to hit home to her. Iosef had come to London. He was waiting for her in London. He had traveled all the way there from Georgia, evidently for the singular purpose of returning her home. That in itself was cause for concern, for she knew Iosef to be a man of patience and discretion. He would not have come all that way without a very good reason.
She passed the letter to Ekaterine when the latter joined her at the table. Ekaterine read the message and looked at her, eyebrows raised. She understood the significance of it as well.
“Good morning, cousin,” Robert said to Ekaterine. He had already given Varanus a similar greeting when he gave her the letter.
“And to you, Robert,” Ekaterine said, smiling brightly. “And Cousin Maud, how does the day find you?”
Across the table, Maud put on a polished smile and replied, “Quite well, Cousin Ekaterine. Quite well. And yourself?”
Varanus quickly set about ignoring the fresh barrage of pleasantries and small talk. Instead, she turned to Robert and said:
“Cousin, I fear that Ekaterine and I must depart for London. Immediately.”
Robert frowned and said, “Oh dear. That is a shame. No trouble, I hope.”
“Nothing of the sort,” Varanus replied. “But we must leave for Russia soon. My husband…will be returning home from Samarkand, and so we are departing England to meet him.”
“My goodness,” Maud said. “’Samarkand.’ What an exotic name.”
“It is, rather, isn’t it?” Ekaterine mused. “Not quite as exotic as ‘Durham’ or ‘Windsor’, but it has its charm.”
Maud and Elizabeth exchanged puzzled looks at this, while Ekaterine merely smiled, pleased with herself.
“In that case, I shall make arrangements for you to leave on the afternoon train,” Robert said.
“Very good of you, cousin,” Varanus said. She took a bite of egg and then said, “I fear we shall have to finish our talk of business at another time. When next I come to England.”
That would not be any time soon, but if she kept Robert and the English cousins focused on such an idea, it might delay their troublemaking for a little while.
“About that matter,” Robert said. “I have received a letter from our cousins. They are happy to leave the property in your care for the time being, provided you feel certain you can maintain it at such a distance from home.”
“Marvelous,” Varanus said, smiling. That was a weight off her shoulders for at least a little while.
“Of course, we shall be forced to revisit it eventually,” Robert said. “It must stay in the hands of a Varanus, you know.”
“Oh Robert,” Maud scolded, “you mustn’t talk business at table.”
“My apologies, my sweet,” Robert said, smiling at Maud. “We will speak no more about it.”
Maud smiled back at him and then looked at Varanus.
“What we should be discussing is when our dear cousins will be visiting us again, and this time, I hope, with the full family in tow. I would very much like to meet Lord Shashavani and hear his tales of the Orient.”
“Indeed, that sounds splendid,” Elizabeth said. She looked at her sister. “Doesn’t it sound splendid, Mary?”
Mary—who, as always, looked intensely bored by the whole proceeding—simply smiled a little and said, “Splendid.”
“Yes,” Robert agreed, “perhaps next summer.”
Not bloody likely, Varanus thought.
But she smiled and replied, “That would be lovely. We shall have to see.”
Varanus exchanged looks with Ekaterine, who slowly shook her head, conveying the exact same sentiment as Varanus. The two of them grinned at one another and quickly returned to their breakfast.
Above all, they were both delighted to be escaping that bizarre place, and with the threat of an attack upon the inheritance halted as well, if only for the moment. However unsettling the visi
t had been, at least it had ended in victory.
Now Varanus wanted nothing more than to see the rottenness of Blackmoor receding in the distance behind her.
* * * *
They arrived in London a little after dark. Varanus had sent messages to Luka and to Doctor Constantine, alerting them to her impending arrival, but she saw neither of them waiting at the station for her. Varanus was not surprised that Constantine had elected not to come—why should he?—but she had expected Luka to be there.
As she and Ekaterine descended from the train and began instructing the porter about their baggage, Varanus glanced along the platform again and saw, to her great astonishment, Friedrich standing amid the milling crowd, looking about for her. He wore a dark green suit with a blue cravat and related accoutrements, which he must have acquired since their last meeting. The whole ensemble made him look something of a dandy, though it suited him all the same. Varanus was not entirely certain how she felt about that.
Smiling a little at the sight of him, Varanus raised her hand in greeting and waved ever so slightly to catch her son’s attention. Friedrich spotted her after a moment, grinned, and waved back.
Varanus took a step in his direction. Then the crowd parted slightly, and she saw the man standing beside him. It was Lord Iosef. He was dressed in dark clothes of the finest cut and quality, and he wore tinted lenses, though as it was night, he had no need of a veil. Iosef looked toward her and gave a narrow smile, nodding slightly in greeting.
Damn, damn, damn, Varanus thought. The last thing she wanted was for Iosef to meet her son or to realize who he was. If Iosef disliked Friedrich, it would be impossible to have the boy inducted into the Shashavani order. And if he liked Friedrich, well.… If he liked him, Iosef might have him inducted before Friedrich had gotten around to giving her grandchildren. And that was simply unacceptable.
Varanus approached arm-in-arm with Ekaterine, while a porter managed their bags. She smiled at Iosef and nodded, and he replied in kind.
“Hello, my lord,” she said. She looked at Friedrich and said, “And good evening to you, Doctor von Fuchsburg. I trust you are well.”
A Cautionary Tale for Young Vampires Page 33