Traitors' Gate

by Nicky Peacock

  “I guess I’ll have to ride to Ravenglass tomorrow to retrieve it,” I say, looking coy.

  “I count the minutes, milady.” He bows and is gone.

  Warm and safe, I have the most wonderful dreams.

  I wake to the morning sun fighting its way through my curtains. The fire had died in the night, but my new white fur was more than I needed. As I roll onto my back, I smell the rose petals and smile.

  I dress before Martha can do the job for me. I choose a pretty emerald day dress that matches my eyes. I leave my hair loose and wild.

  I charge toward the stables to mount my horse and run straight into my father. He does still have legs.

  “Where do you think you are going this early, daughter”

  “I want to get a ride in before the start of the day.” Not a complete lie.

  “Lord Appleby is still missing. And there’s talk of a…”

  “Of a what?” Please don’t say vampire.

  “Something unsavory is walking these hills, Lucinda. The village has had others go missing. I don’t want you out there on your own.”

  “But…”

  “I said no!” he yells as he clutches my horse by its mane and pulls it away from me making the poor animal neigh loudly and cower away from us.

  “Why, what lord have you sold me to now?” The moment the words leave my mouth, I regret them.

  Father turns an indescribable shade of maroon. “And what would you know about the absence of your first fiancé?” he seethes.

  I haven’t a lie convincing enough to distract him with. I choose silence. Another thing to regret.

  “Answer me!” The maroon color has now alters to bright red, and a small evil part of me hopes his heart fails him here and now, dying on the floor of the stables amongst the hay and shit while I half-heartedly run for help.

  “If he hasn’t turned up yet, I’m guessing he won’t turn up at all.” Oh, this conversation is going south at a considerable gallop.

  “Get back in the house!”

  I take the opportunity to escape past him, but he jerks his hand out and grips my arm, pulling me too close to him. “If I find you had anything to do with Lord Appleby’s disappearance, you’ll be close behind him.” He whispers his threat as he stares violently into my eyes. Any last drop of love I had for my father evaporates into hatred.

  I pull my arm free from his grip and march to the house. It’s not till I get back into the safety of my room that my limbs start to shake and I have to sit down.

  The day lingers on, all the while I’m wondering if Nicholas thinks I’ve abandoned him and if that imagined rejection will lead him to strap up another sword. My plan is to wait until nightfall and slip away from the house while my father is working in his study. I just pray that I’m not too late and that Nicholas’s immortal black mood hasn’t swung a blade.

  When the bright full moon is straddling the sky, I dress in breeches and a shirt, and climb the ivy down and out of my window. I wrap myself in my white fur and run toward the stables. My horse isn’t saddled, but I don’t care. I swing up onto her bare back and drive her out into the night toward Ravenglass.

  Even from a distance, I can see a light glowing in the main hall, a golden invitation.

  I hitch my horse and run into the house, barreling into the Hall, afraid of what I might find.

  When I burst through the doors, I find Nicholas sitting cross-legged before the fire, casually reading a book.

  “Are you well?” I ask.

  He smiles at me, “Of course. You’re terribly late though.”

  I step forward to throw myself into his arms, but he meets me halfway. Shamefully I begin to cry. He stokes my hair and whispers, “My, whatever happened? If I’d have thought you were in trouble I’d have come over to Delacourt’s house.”

  “Father knows I did something to Appleby.”

  “Pish, he knows nothing, less than that in fact, as you didn’t do anything to Appleby. I did it all.”

  “I didn’t help him.”

  “He didn’t deserve your help. And even if you had wanted to, I could have easily overpowered you.” Nicholas grabs me round the waist and hoists me into the air, then lets me gently fall onto the couch, pinning me under him. “See, you are completely at my mercy.”

  I chuckle and pull my arms about his neck. I want him to kiss me, to play the next note of this bard’s love story. Instead he looks serious and lets me up.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I’ve lived a long time, Lucinda. I thought I’d never find you, so it has never bothered me before now.”

  “What hasn’t bothered you? That I’m human and you’re a vampire? Does that really make a difference?”

  “Not that you’re human. I’m old enough to turn you, if that is what you want of course.” He looks hopeful.

  I hadn’t even really thought about it, but being a vampire would probably be amazing. Yes I would have a limited diet, but I’d get to live forever, see everything. I could travel to every country in the world and learn to cook like a native. I could officially tell my father to stuff his rules up his own crevice and get away from here, far away before he makes another deal for my hand with another slimy Lord Appleby.

  “Yes,” I say, “I’d love to be a vampire, as long as I’m with you.”

  “That is wonderful to hear,” he whispers and moves forward to hold my hands, “but the Elders have a rule about female vampires. I’d have to appeal to them first.”

  “The Elders?”

  “They rule all vampires. We abide by their laws to ensure our safety.”

  Would I be swapping one overbearing father for a group of eternal overbearing fathers?

  “But, I have served them well. I’m sure they will agree,” Nicholas continues.

  “Will I be strong?” I ask.

  “Very strong.” He pulls me closer, looping my arms around his neck.

  “Will I be fast?” I whisper.

  “Incredibly fast.” His lips are almost touching mine.

  “Will I be deadly?” I breathe.

  “Beyond deadly.” His mouth covers mine and my mind stops working properly.

  Chapter Seven

  I don’t go back to father’s house. I’m far too afraid that, if he gets another grip on me, he might never let me go. I feel bad not saying goodbye to Mistress Leighton and Gordons but I can’t take the risk. I don’t go back for belongings either. All I have are the clothes on my back and Nicholas, and it is all I need. We leave Ravenglass within the hour. We travel on foot, running through the dark countryside like I did on the first night we met. We move together, fingers entwined like merry schoolchildren. We reach the town and Nicholas books us a room at the local pub, then passage on a coach heading for London. I am to meet Christian and Tolliver and another of Nicholas’s blood drinking brethren, a Frenchman called Philippe.

  I’m sure we are receiving a score of disapproving looks, but I don’t notice them. Wrapped in my vampire’s arms I am safe and oddly warm. There are many kisses, but nothing else. Nicholas proposes to me that night and we decide to wait until we are married before we truly share a bed. Once the Elders agree to my turning, I am to be a vampire bride; living out the plot of a bard’s best song is fast turning out to be the best decision I’ve ever made.

  I had always thought London was a big city, but with so many people squashed into its streets, it seems positively tiny. We arrive early in the morning and make our way to a tavern called the Dead Hare.

  “It’s a vampire haven,” explains Nicholas, “we’re meeting them there.”

  The Dead Hare is surprisingly luxurious, not your average rowdy tavern that smells of overcooked vegetables and cheap ale It is populated by men who all lay protecting arms about their female companions; there are even a few children playing in a corner. Nicholas catches me staring at them. “We don’t drink from children, it’s forbidden. But most still want a family. They’ll have been adopted by a vampire here.�
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  The children are laughing and dressed in expensive outfits. They look chubby and happy.

  “Where do they adopt them from?” I ask.

  “I’m afraid it’s from the less fortunate people who have too many babies to feed. They sell their youngest to anyone with a coin.”

  “I can believe that. But they’re the lucky ones, aren’t they?” I nod toward the children.

  “Strangely, yes they are. They’ll grow up and the boys will be given the opportunity to be turned. The girls will be married, if they choose to be. Their sons will be…”

  “I get it. The Elders don’t like ladies.” I wave my arms around and realize that I kind of raised my voice.

  “They will adore you.” Nicholas hugs me and I wonder if someday I’ll be allowed to sire my own child, and what that would feel like, to share this dark gift with another.

  As we move further into the tavern, my eyes are drawn to a familiar face, “Christian!” I yell.

  I throw myself into his open arms. I see a brief flash of fang as he tries to bite me.

  Chapter Eight

  The two other vampires quickly restrain him and one throws me an angry glance.

  “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” I say.

  After a slight struggle, Christian sits down and looks up at me, “It is I who should say sorry. I’m only here because I said that I could control my appetite. You are just too delectable, Lucinda Delacourt.”

  “You should take him home, Tolliver.” Nicholas pulls me behind him and stares daggers at my old friend.

  Christian rolls his eyes. He’s just as I remember him, only a little bit broader and ever so slightly undead.

  “He’s simply stating the obvious, mes amis.” The third vampire sweeps me out from behind Nicholas. He kisses my hand. “Bonjour mademoiselle, vous etes belle.”

  “Merci beaucoup,” I reply.

  “Vous parlez francais?”

  “Mais, bien sur.”

  “I’m your humble servant, Philippe.” He bows.

  I’m glad the French stops there as we are nearing my vocabulary limit on it.

  “That’s enough of that,” Nicholas says, stepping between us.

  As much as I’m enjoying the attention, Nicholas’s face is beginning to contort to anger, so I step back and let him help me into my seat. He lays an arm across the back of my chair and a brief round of pleasantries begin. I use this time to study the other vampires a little further. Christian looks good. Being a vampire suits him; his black hair spills a little over his broad shoulders and his rich dark eyes are keen and deep. Will being a vampire make me more becoming? Will it change me that much? Would my father recognize me if I choose to go back home?

  Philippe is watching me. His gaze is soft and he has the effortlessly easy air that many a Frenchman has. I instantly like him. He includes me in their conversations and is attentive to my needs. He is the one that orders me a rich thick beef broth that tastes like it’s been cooked by God himself. Tolliver is more serious. He is holding Christian’s wrist beneath the table and when his eyes fall on me they are analytical and cold, especially when he sees me dunking bread into the broth.

  We’re coming to the end of our strange social engagement when a young boy barrels up to us.

  “Message for Nicholas Lord,” he says thrusting out a fold of parchment.

  “Not a moment’s peace,” Philippe laments.

  Nicholas takes the parchment and gives the boy a coin. He unfolds the message and begins to read. I notice his lips moving as he does. If we had been alone I’d have kissed him.

  When he’s finished, he hands the letter to Tolliver who struggles to read it with just the one free hand.

  “Mon ami?”

  “The Elders need us. There’s a problem at the Tower.”

  “The Tower of London?” I ask.

  “Yes, something about the boy princes,” Nicholas says, seeming distant.

  “When are we needed?” Philippe asks.

  “Now, we should leave now.” Nicholas gets up and holds a hand out to me.

  “You can’t take Lucinda with you,” Christian says.

  “Well, I’m not leaving her here with you. And besides, I want to talk to the Elders about her anyway. Now is a good time, when they actually need help.”

  “I’ll take Christian back to the house and meet you at the Tower,” Tolliver declares.

  A wind flaps my hair and cloak. I close my eyes against it, and when I open them I see that Tolliver and Christian are gone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

  “Should we not re-dress your lovely lady?” Philippe asks, eyeing my breeches.

  “Actually, probably for the best. We can put a cap on her and claim she’s a page.”

  “I am standing right here!” I put my hands on my hips.

  “I thought you were taught by the finest French tutors at court,” Nicholas says with a devilish laugh. “Weren’t you taught women are sought for their beauty, not their voices?” He chuckles as I slap his arm.

  “Court in France! We have so much to talk about!” Philippe takes my hand and walks me to the door, “So tell me,” he says, “are you all finished with your French education?”

  “Not even close” I say.

  Chapter Nine

  The Tower of London is a formidable stack of stones splattered by the blood of both the guilty and the innocent. Part jail and part courthouse, if walls could talk this place would scream in horror thanks to the events it’s witnessed through the centuries. It’s a fortress designed to both protect and imprison. You can’t simply walk onto the Tower’s ground, not unless you work there, so we edge along the bank of the Thames to the watery entrance reserved for the condemned. Prisoners too high profile to walk through the front doors are ferried through a sunken gate, as if they were crossing the River Styx.

  Night has crept in around us and it’s a new moon, making everything that much darker. I stand between Nicholas and Philippe; Tolliver lingers by the water. He seems lost in his own reflection, like Narcissus. I’ve yet to see him smile and part of me wants to tell him a bawdy joke just to see if I can elicit one from him. Nicholas holds my hand tightly and when I tug at it, he looks down at me.

  “Everything is going to be okay, darling,” he whispers, then leans down to kiss the top of my head.

  Philippe smiles at us as then stoops down by the water’s edge and pulls a rope that releases a large red rowboat. “You know,” he says, “there’s a rumor that they’re going to start calling this entrance Traitors’ Gate; put heads on spikes to decorate the gateway.”

  “That’s gruesome, Philippe.” Tolliver comes away from the river and shoulder bumps his French friend.

  I’m unsure why I laugh at them. Perhaps it just feels good to be included as part of their group, or perhaps I’m just nervous. Soon we’re all laughing together and Philippe begins regaling us about the logistics of the last hanging he attended on Tower Hill. “Of course, being a vampire he didn’t die; just swung there strangely, blushing and waiting for someone to figure it out and cut him down!”

  It enters my eye line, just for a second, its oil slick feathers beating the cold English air, its sharp beak dripping bloody gore...

  “Lucinda, watch out!” Nicholas yells at me and pushes me back out of its trajectory.

  He of course had seen the raven before it had begun its descent. Before I’d even realized what was going on, Nicholas had drawn his sword and sliced it in two. An unholy screech escapes its beak, and I can smell a foulness lifting from its exposed, shiny innards as its two halves writhe on the ground at my feet.

  “What in the name of God is going on here?” Philippe pokes his sword at the twitching bird corpse, “it still looks alive…” Half of the bird judders forward and attacks the blade. He shakes it off and completely decapitates the thing. It now looks like black paste scraped across the path.

  “Are you okay, Lucinda?” Nicholas asks me. He puts his arm around my shoulders a
nd it’s only then that I realize I’m shaking. I link my arms around his waist and pull him to me, breathing in the smell of him. Tolliver gives me a distasteful look and Philippe looks away and down at the twitching mess at our feet.

  He narrows his eyes at it. “Did it come from the Tower?”

  “Must have, but what the hell happened to it?” Tolliver asks.

  A strong wind whips at my fur cloak and suddenly there is another man in front of me. He is dressed in a Tower Guard’s uniform and has long golden hair to his shoulders and the small ghost of a beard. His eyes are frightfully dark and fixed completely on me. When I do not look away from him, he grins, showing me scarlet stained teeth. There are wet bloodstains creeping over the uniform. I cower a little into Nicholas.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he asks, staring a hole through Nicholas.

  “I wanted the Elders to meet my fiancée, Lucinda Delacourte,” he replies.

  I let go of Nicholas and curtsey as best I can in breeches.

  “You wish to make a female vampire?”

  “I do, I think that Lucinda has the right temperament and…”

  The strange man’s grin widens. “She is comely, and I do like a woman in man’s clothes. Scandalous.” He holds out a hand to me and I hesitate to take it. Something tells me he is not like the others, or as we used to say at school, the hat and boots don’t quite match. I decide to smile and edge backward behind Nicholas and Philippe.

  “She’s smart too. I like her. But you still cannot make a female vampire.”

  “But, Elder please…” A soft begging tone is creeping into Nicholas’s words.

  “Might I have a brief word?” Philippe says. He maneuvers the Elder away from us and I cannot hear what they are saying, but I’m assuming Nicholas does.

  “What’s going on?” I whisper to him.

  “Philippe is telling the Elder that I need you, that without you I would have ended my own life.”

  “Will that work?”

  “I often find that the truth is always best the tactic.”

  A sudden thought grips me. If the Elders don’t agree to me being turned, Nicholas might try to do something silly again. As a human I will inevitably die, so will he kill himself right along with me? I look up at him and am about to ask when Philippe re-joins us.

  “The Elder has agreed to Lucinda being turned on one condition,” he says.