"Nikoli, there is one more matter we need to discuss, the melding of our clans.”
Nikoli looked a bit confused with the statement, for the thought of banding together hadn't registered. Even with Svetlana's prior outburst, he conjectured that this would be a military campaign, and once the campaign had ended, life as he knew it would revert back to normal.
"Kirilli, I am a bit unsure of what you are saying. It is evident that the Boirarskys will act as the general staff and the Romanov will command the field. Is this not the case, or is there something else you need to add?"
Kirilli stood and took a long deep breath. He looked to his right and left. All eyes were fixed on him. He then glanced quickly at the group directly across from him. It was the first time any had seen a sign of minor weakness from Kirilli. He was always so self-assured in his position and thoughts. But this time he was exuding a bit of uneasiness.
“Yes Nikoli, there is one more item to discuss. We need to permanently put the past behind us. As soon as the Germans are eliminated or defeated by other forces, we cannot just return to the ways of the past. We must move on and ensure our place in Poland. Returning to the past would be a waste and the world is changing rapidly. We have fought for far too many centuries. It is time to start a new history and set a clear path for us and those who shall follow."
Agitated by the grandstanding and tone of this diplomatic trash, Nikoli shouted out. "Kirilli, we have no time or patience for speeches from the lectern. What exactly are you saying? And be quick about it. You are trying my patience."
Kirilli took another breath, looked at his beloved wife, then moved his eyes back to Nikoli's dark black pools and said with more confidence than he started with. “Nikoli, we must mate between the clans. I propose Dmitri and Nicole mate. A shared child between our clans will be the unbroken bond."
Not even Nikoli could have come up with this plan. He was dumbfounded at the concept. Sasha and Svetlana's (still recovering from the earlier blow) mouths opened in utter disbelief and disgust. It was Sasha who spoke first. She was always so elegant and well-spoken, until now.
"Kirilli," she loudly proclaimed. "Have you lost your senses? You want our only son to mate with the likes of Nicole? I forbid it!"
Svetlana spat blood on the table and for once put her words in perfect order, “Never in a thousand years will the likes of Dmitri touch a hair on my daughter. My teeth and claws will rip his throat wide open before I let him close enough to smell her perfume."
The women went after each other with a vengeance, both trying to outdo the other with the vile punishments they would inflict on each other. The others also joined in, yelling back and forth at what would happen if either child approached the other.
Kirilli knew it would be a turbulent storm to endure, but it was the only surefire way to ensure the coalition stayed united.
The thought of Dmitri violating his daughter sent waves of red hot rage through Nikoli. The thought of a Boirarsky joining with his daughter was absurd to say the least. Instead of joining in the tongue lashing, he stared at Kirilli and listened to the ranting and ravings of both sides. After a few minutes of yelling and screaming and vocabularies reaching their ends, he produced a large grin and let out a bellowing laugh. The others stared at him wondering what his next words would be.
“Kirilli, I have a mind for warfare, thievery, and tactics. But your proposition is absolutely brilliant. Even I could have never fathomed such a joining of our respective clans. My friend, you have a deal."
The room exploded in a cacophony of screaming.
Chapter 8
Betrayal
Svetlana was furious with the thought of her devoted husband agreeing with the likes of Kirilli to sacrifice their daughter to a lost cause. Why should Nicole be forced to make this great sacrifice? Why should her daughter have to suffer the violation of her body in the quest of saving the likes of the Boirarskys? I will never let this happen. My daughter, unlike myself, was unwillingly brought into this existence. It is bad enough being a vampire, never to enjoy the true joys of pleasuring in human flesh and desires, but to be forced to mate, never!
She decided the only way to stop this aberration from occurring would require disposing of either Kirilli or Nikoli. But how could she accomplish this task? She, by herself, could not take on either one directly. They were much too intelligent to be lured out into the open and struck down. What if she could make contact with the perceived enemy and attempt a negotiation? She looked in the mirror and admired her beauty. Yes, I can do this without a problem. Her body was still relatively hard and shapely. The decades of feeding on blood had been especially kind to her facial features. Her cheekbones were still high and hard. Her flaming red hair still retained some of its human sheen, but it was her eyes that men could never resist. They were a very deep, bright emerald green and when she smiled with her alluring teeth, men could not resist her charms. Yes, I shall take my old trade to town and lure one of the "master race" into my plan.
It was while she was practicing her time honored trade where she and Nikoli had first met. He was a young strapping man full of life and adventure. But there was something in his eyes that was off. No matter how many times he came to visit and engage in her pleasures, his eyes never emitted any true emotions. They were dark and lifeless. She could take the suspense no longer, and on his last visit, her curiosity got the best of her. Nikoli, my sweet Nikoli, do you not like my body? Am I not tight enough for your full pleasure? Is there something I can't give you that other girls do? She remembered what Nikoli told her that fateful night. My dear Set, there is no other woman who can please me as you do. Your actions and reactions are beyond my descriptive abilities. She had thought about his comments and continued, Then Nikoli, why do your eyes never reflect the pleasures I am performing?
Svetlana, I am from a completely different world than you. It is one of blackness and eternal strife. But I would be more than willing to invite you into the realm. Are you interested? Svetlana thought about the proposal for a few moments and being the free spirit she was, willingly agreed to become part of his life. She had no idea what she was requesting, and by the time she felt the teeth plunge into her neck, it was too late. He brought her into the fold and with her came a child she was already carrying.
She never forgave herself for accepting Nikoli’s invitation. He could easily have informed her of his world and how she would never be able to properly co-exist with her former life. She would be forced to leave the life of humanly pleasures behind her and enter his life, one devoid of human emotions and feelings.
With the acceptance of his invitation, he brought her into a world of immortality and lifelessness, a place where emotions and actions of the flesh were performed only when necessary, and it had been decades since they had last mated. Nikoli had no time or reason to satisfy her childish wishes. She had never forgiven him for taking that aspect of her human life away. It was time to see if those emotions could be re-ignited and exploited.
She would promise them a taste of her body and more. But in order for them to gain the entire prize, there would be one price, the blood of her chosen prey. The plan sent a shiver of anticipation through her spine, but she would have to work quickly. The joining was scheduled to occur in four short weeks.
* * *
It was a chilly, rainy Tuesday morning. She had raised enough courage to head out to Krakow and find the man who would unwillingly assist her with this plan. He would think he was doing this fair woman a true act of kindness in order to taste the pleasures of her eyes and body, when in reality, he would be an unknowing accomplice for her plan.
"Nikoli, dear husband, I have business in Krakow today. I won't be gone long."
Nikoli barely looked up from the papers spread before him. He was planning out the infiltration of the SS troops. The thought of an adversary and making them pay for their insolence had completely filled his mind. It had been over thirty years since he had been able to use his military mind
and techniques. He gruffly acknowledged his dear wife with a sweep of his hand, as a sign of her unwanted intrusion. His actions delighted her. Exactly what she was hoping for. He was making this much easier than she expected. All the better. "Goodbye, dear husband. I shan't be long." Her words were grating against his concentration.
"Woman, be off before......" By the time he looked up she was gone. All the better. There were many details that needed to be resolved and reviewed. The interruptions from a self-centered woman were an unwanted intrusion.
Svetlana had chosen one of her favorite dresses, a dazzling dark green one that would complement her dark green sparkling eyes. True, her figure would catch the attention of any would-be suitor, but her eyes, deep and hypnotic, would draw them in like bees to honey. It was this feature that kept men coming back again and again. They could never get enough.
She had informed Stephan to prepare the carriage for her trip. After seeing how immaculate Kirilli's stable and carriage were kept, she had requested Nikoli either repair theirs or purchase a new one. He would have none of it. Opulence is for fools and aristocrats. We are Romanov and will do with what we currently possess! She hated the way he constantly berated her, as if she was a school girl who knew nothing. This trip, with luck, would put an end to his bastardly behavior. The joining would not succeed. She would see to it.
The trip to Krakow was long and lonely. The fifty kilometer ride would take most of the day. It mattered not; Nikoli was too engrossed in his work to worry about her travels, and the rest of the clan was more interested in how to feed than worry about the attitudes of a discontented bride. The journey allowed her plenty of time to decide how she would lure a soldier into her trap. She would have to be crafty and use all of her dormant skills. He would have to be a man of few morals, which from what she had seen from the way the SS treated the locale populace, wouldn't be a problem. But he would also need to be a man of respect - an officer, a colonel, or even a general would be ideal, but they might ask too many questions and have a difficult time separating themselves from their staff. A captain would be the perfect rank. A captain who had gained notice from the upper command structure, but was still looking to move up the ranks and enjoy the pleasures higher rank ensured, this type of man would be perfect. She had just the pleasures he would desire.
It would take almost five hours to reach Krakow if she pushed the mare, or a little over six if she maintained a steady pace. Staying the night didn't bother her in the least, but she wasn't ready to give herself to a human man just yet. Finding suitable lodging might be a problem. The Germans had occupied the best places the town had to offer. What was left were homes that had been abandoned by their previous owners, or a few small shacks bordering the rail station. A woman of her talents should not be relegated to such pitiful quarters or surroundings. But these times were different. She would have to use different measures to achieve her goal, the death of Kirilli at the hands of the Germans.
The trip was uneventful. She had passed sporadic patrols. They paid her no mind. The long overcoat covered her figure and the black scarf she wore kept her red hair well hidden. They took her for another local attempting to plead for loved one’s lives with the town’s governor. She felt their stares and could read their eyes. What a pitiful lot they all were. They were a drag on the economy and precious resources were being wasted on these dregs. She thought to herself how foolish these super men were. They had no idea what lay in store for them or their master race. All the better, as they paid her no mind. To reveal what she really was would spoil the plan she was developing.
She arrived in town around four o'clock. The sun was slowly fading behind the scattered gray clouds - darkness came early this time of year. The heavy forests and clouds spread the last rays of the sun as if signaling a coming of dread. Most of the soldiers were bundled up in their great-coats fighting off the coming chill. To the soldiers, it was another gloomy night in a forgotten corner of the Reich. To her, it was the perfect setting for her plan. Most of the men would either be in their quarters avoiding the elements, or visiting the local Hofbrau to wash away this despised and useless posting to which they had been assigned. She knew the doors and windows would be closed tight in an attempt to keep the elements out and the heat in. The rooms would fill with the stifling irrelevant conversations of past battles and glories, the polka tunes that even the locals now resented, and the acrid smoke from pipes, cigars, and cheap cigarettes would force even the staunchest of men to seek the outdoors for an occasional breath of fresh air.
She noticed an empty building that had once served as the grain storage house. It appeared the Germans were not concerned with securing this building. With so many soldiers coming and going, no one would think of setting up shop so close to the enemy. She steered the carriage to the back, opened the large loading doors and eased the mare and carriage into the dark musty storage room. With luck, the mare would be able to scrounge up some grain left on the floor. The original owners had kept the place immaculate and well kept. They could not take the chance of mold infecting the new crops and turning a good harvest into a sour one. These Germans showed no sign of interest in agronomy, and had left the place untidy and unclean after this harvest had finished and the owners were shipped west. The storage house would also serve as her place of resting for the night. She had no intention of returning to Tarnow until the next day.
She unhitched the mare, found some leftover straw, and dozed off for a few hours. Her target must be full of beer and of himself for the plan to work. With the details in place, she nodded off into a peaceful rest, a small evil grin emerging as she fell asleep.
The clock in the old square chimed to the tune of ten bells. Svetlana awoke with their clanging and prepared for her venture. The noise from the Hofbrau next door was loud and raucous, the Germans were definitely enjoying themselves tonight. Perfect. Now to find the ideal subject. She moved towards the front door. The pall of light from the windows next door was casting strange dancing shadows on the dirt ground, a sign that the SS men were living it up. The wooden doors at the tavern creaked loudly and erratically as men came and went. It was the voice of an apparent private or lower officer that caught her attention. "Guten abend, Herr Captain. Heil Hitler!" A captain. She slowly pushed the wood door open to take a look. The shadows from the light were perfectly in place. She had picked her attire well. The light emitting onto the street from the Hofbrau would blind the eyes of the soldiers from her movements in the dark.
She took a long look at the man standing in front of the beer hall. The captain exuded the standards of German superiority, many of which she had come to hate. He turned slightly to his left looking into the dark space she occupied. She couldn't help but notice his unblemished uniform, his full length black polished overcoat, the black knee-high, and the black visor on his head. It was the sparkling metal insignia on the cap that brought a smile to her face, the skull and crossbones. If all goes well, he will be introduced to the emblem he proudly displays. He stood in the cool night air slowly taking a drag from his cigarette and exhaling just as slowly. He wasn't looking around, but rather gave off the sense of contemplating other issues of importance. Another solder exited the tavern and brushed by the captain with no recognition. Without blinking an eye or throwing out dramatics, the captain called out.
"Private. What is your name? Who is your commanding officer? Do you not recognize an officer? Are you really of the Aryan brotherhood or a partisan looking for information?"
The stunned man knew the wrong answer would earn him a trip to the west as a guard or even worse, an inhabitant at one of the relocation centers.
"Herr Captain," the confused words came from the soldier. “I did not see you standing there. It was not deliberate, I swear. My commanding officer is Lieutenant Schultz. He is still inside. I will gladly take you to him immediately if that is the captain's wish."
Captain Brown thought about the private’s intentions. True, it was a dark night and after one too many
warm beers, his uniform blended in nicely with the background.
The lonely soldier stumbled through his words "Private...Alder, Herr Captain, Private Alder."
“Private Alder, see to it this type of transgression never occurs again or you could find yourself shoveling straw with the rest of the cargo."
"Jawohl, Herr Captain, it will never happen again. Heil Hitler," and the moment passed. The captain showed absolutely no emotion during the encounter. His words were like a sledgehammer forging out a new steel sword, swift and hard. He lit another cigarette savoring the current event. Men feared him as they should. It was the way of the new order.
Svetlana allowed him to take a few more drags from his fresh cigarette. She pushed the door completely open and stepped out. The cold air didn't bother her at all. The captain had not noticed her movements, the pitch dark setting was shielding his eyes from her activities. Perfect, her trade skills were about to come in very handy.
"Herr Captain?" The man didn't take notice. Maybe the wind blowing in her face had muffled her speech. She took a few more steps towards him repeating the words,
"Herr Captain." This time he slowly turned in the direction of the voice, a bit surprised but without losing any of that arrogant stature.
"Yes, Fraulein?" He seemed a bit concerned that a female appeared from the shadows. Captain Brown was displeased with this woman. Why was she not in one of the houses set-up by the new government for such ventures? Berlin frowned upon such activities, but better to provide a morale boost for the troops than have them disgruntled when they took on the enemies of the Reich.
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