Edge of Midnight, part 1
First part behind the cut. Have fun.
Into the valleys
The shadow of death
Grieves silently across the darkened sea
This is it
We stand alone
We can see it all from here
The starless night across the mountain side
No one left to talk to
There's nothing left to say
- Sarah McLachlan “As the End Draws Near”
But under skinned knees and the skid marks
Past the places where you used to learn
You howl and listen
Listen and wait for the
Echoes of angels who won't return
- Vertical Horizon, “Everything You Want”
The Vatican, April 1889
Cardinal Jinette was not a patient man by nature. The last years of supervising the missions of Gabriel Van Helsing had put a great strain on Jinette’s tolerance. The man was insolent, blasphemous and refused to abide by many of the Order’s rules of engagement. Jinette smiled humourlessly; engagement indeed. He had not expected perfect results from the mission in Transylvania, but still he had not expected this. Van Helsing had returned victorious, but he had not returned alone. The princess had been with him. Jinette had seen paintings of the girl; they however did not do her justice.
Van Helsing’s return had taken much more time than the Order had anticipated. Most of the field men were on assignments around the globe and Jinette had been forced to allow a potentially dangerous situation near the Lake Garda go unchecked. Jinette had not bothered to wait for the man in the confessional, but had walked up to meet him at the basilica’s entrance. To his dismay Anna Valerious had stood next to the hunter head held high and uncovered. A large sword had hung on her hip and a large battle axe was tied to her back.
She had spoken to Van Helsing; and to Jinette himself, as she was an equal. The Cardinal could understand that in their desperation Boris Valerious had allowed his daughter to join the battle; but he had not expected her to be so crude. As Jinette had pulled Van Helsing aside and explained the situation plaguing the city of Riva she had followed. She had looked Jinette in the eyes without any decorum and had assumed that she would be accompanying Van Helsing to his assignment. Jinette had felt like slapping the woman. Luckily Van Helsing had had the sense of putting her in her place. He had been slightly suspicious of the surprise that flashed on the woman’s face before the rage had set in. Friar Carl, always the diplomat, had fortunately lead her away from Jinette and Van Helsing, promising to show her assigned living quarters. Jinette had not seen the girl since.
What had later on begun to erode on his mind the most were the rumours that began circulating among the Order’s and the Vatican’s staff. It was understood that the relationship between Van Helsing and the Princess had become inappropriate. Friar Carl had vehemently denied this when Jinette had queried him about the gossip. However the rumours could be potentially damaging to the Church, whose guest the Princess was currently. Even though she was not part of any national court her position as the Princess of the Gypsies still held some power; especially here in Rome where most of the clan heads had spies and informants. He turned towards the Priest who had entered few minutes previously.
“Ah, Father. There is an urgent matter that requires your attention. I trust that you will inform Mother Superior of these matters as well…”
x x x x x x x
The first days of her stay in Rome had not gone as Anna had expected. The years her family had sacrificed defending their land and their faith against the evil of Dracula was obviously of no consequence or worthy of praise when the only remaining defender was a woman. She had felt the Cardinal’s cold gaze sweep over her in St. Peter’s cathedral; felt his disdain. That was nothing however compared to the rage that bubbled up in her at Gabriel’s refusal to allow her to accompany him to Riva. It was as if he did not see her anymore. Seeing no reason to fight an already lost battle she had allowed Carl to guide her, still fuming, into the guest wing of the complex.
She fast noticed that the Vatican planned to keep her up in luxury befitting a royal guest, but otherwise she would be isolated from any business regarding Transylvania or The Knights of the Holy Order. Once more her body had become her enemy. She was no longer a warrior; not even in Gabriel’s eyes. Bitterly she understood that now that he had taken pleasure in her body, found that indeed beneath all that rage and fight was only a woman he could not trust her to wage war anymore. She had forced herself not to cry; not to let the sorrow that almost overwhelmed her senses to take over. She had learned to be strong in the face of emotional trials; to let them rein in the darkness of her rooms when the need arose.
She had not even been allowed to see Carl. Her part in the destruction of Dracula or Gabriel’s sudden recovery from lycanthropy was not mentioned or discussed. In truth she had been isolated from all events concerning her family. The only company she had been officially allowed were the young tittering servants and the young nuns who were associated with the order. Anna had bored with them quickly. She had fast realised that while she was no prisoner, her stay in the Vatican was monitored. After few days of observing the movements of the guards she found a few good routes out of the complex and into the city.
She toured Rome on her own, preferring the narrow alleys of the more disreputable parts of the city than the grand sights and promenades that attracted the main crowds. She had expected the hostility towards her clothes and mannerisms, but not to this degree; women and men looked upon her with open contempt. She had found some refuge in the gypsy quartet, but had not lingered there for long in fear of meeting some of her clan’s elders, who were in no way informed of her stay in Rome.
It was slowly beginning to dawn on her that she was alone on hostile ground. The priests worked slowly, but surely to erode the identity of the warrior she had been raised as. She had seen the gowns and feminine capes that had miraculously appeared in the closet. Every night she was forced to hide her own clothing underneath her mattress in fear of not finding them in the morning anymore. She marvelled at how similar the church’s strategies of disempowering her were to those of Dracula. The beautiful surroundings, servants and the mockingly expensive silk clothing. She truly felt caged in the beauty and luxury. After the first few lonely days she had forbidden herself to think of Gabriel. He was not coming back for her.
It had only been seven days when the letter arrived. Of course Anna had expected it, but not so soon. The letter commanded her to attend a gathering of the gypsy court of Rome in order to discuss the final feat over Dracula. Anna saw the signature; Gyorgy, and understood that her family’s reign was over. The invitation was merely a formality to strip her of her rights to the lands, to her rights to the court. Gyorgy had been the stand-in ruler for as long as Anna could remember. He father had been King, but their family’s pledge had consumed his life. The Gypsies were not too bothered with by a formal ruler, but there still must be a King who will act as a uniting force between the feuding clans. Now the title was Grorgy’s right. Anna knew that she had to step down silently. Gyorgy had four sons to any of whom she could be easily enough offered as a bride now that her father and brother were gone. She had to step down and disappear.
Years ago Anna had sword she would not be anyone’s war prize; anyone’s possession. She knew that the kills she had performed during her life gave her protection against being robbed as a bride, but not for long. She needed to be claimed by someone in the eyes of the clan or she needed to vanish. It had become apparent that Gabriel would not be of any help during these proceedings and she would be left with no other choice.
She stood proud as the servant girls dressed her in the finest midnight blue gown provided and she strapped her two swords and her pistol to her waist. She would not step down with a bowed head.
x x x x x x x
The twitching of the young man’s limbs slowly subsided as his body expelled its final breath. The girl was still silently sobbing in the corner, but Gabriel could not bring himself to care. He had been rather more brutal than necessary with the warlock. He had kept the town under his thrall with a few simple spells; demanding maidens, money and power, rather unimaginative Gabriel had thought. The boy had had power in his fingertips, but very little experience on how to use it. He understood the Order’s need to deal with the situation fast before the boy’s powers had begun to escalate.
He had known that Jinette would never have allowed Anna to accompany him. He had also felt the need to keep his relationship with Anna from him. Gabriel had never discussed it, but the Order was not very tolerant towards women. Companionship was to be found in friendships between the knights themselves. The secrecy of their missions forced most of them to forgo any hopes for family life. Their reward was to be a divine one, pleasures of the flesh were denied to them as much as they were to the priests. He had presumed that Anna would understand his need for diplomacy with the Order; had presumed that he would have time to explain. The flinched look in her eyes at his words, even though her body remained motionless, told him all he needed to know. He could not take this back; would never be forgiven. He had wanted to fall at her feet and beg, but his pride would not let him; not under the watchful eye of the Cardinal. So he had watched her retreating back as Carl lead her away.
She had loved the sea. The crossing from Privlaka had been an unusual one. For two days the ship had been surrounded by a misty calm, the sailors had been anxious and the captain worried. Anna on the other hand had loved it. She had stood on the misty covered deck for hours looking out into the ocean. On early mornings he had often found her in the helm wrapped in his coat. The salt had clung to her skin, making their bed smell like the ocean. It was the closest he had even come to bliss. Part of him had however known that all things must come to an end. The stillness had been otherwordly; as if easing their passage from the mythical lands of Transylvania into the modern Rome.
That was gone now. Her eyes had closed off when he had refused her; refused to trust her strength. He pulled his tojo blades into hiding again and walked to the shivering young girl. He rode back into town with the girl’s arms tightly constricting his waist. Her family offered him dinner and a bed for the night, but he was needed back in Rome.
Evening had fallen over the Holy City when Gabriel finally rode into the stables. The lateness of the hour allowed him to enter through the Basilica. He had cabled Jinette from Riva of his arrival and hoped that the Cardinal would be already waiting for him in the confessional.
The man was snappish, but professional. He seemed unusually pleased over the demise of the young warlock; Gabriel refused to question the man’s moods. He moved to leave, but the other man’s cold voice stopped him.
“It would be prudent if you would not be in contact with the Princess anymore; easier for all of us.”
He gave the Cardinal a cold look.
“I brought her here and I will not cut contact with her merely because you would wish it.”
He moved to exit the confessional.
“Van Helsing!”
The Cardinal’s voice was almost pleading, but still managed to retain its harsh quality.
“The Princess has family here. The gypsy court that resides in Rome has taken her under their protection.”
Few days earlier the cardinal had received a letter from the leader of the Central European tribes of the gypsies: Gyorgy Faw. He had been very clear: Anna Valerious would bee stripped of her station and her right of rule would be transferred to Gyorgy’s family. The man had assured that a suitable place would be found for the princess within the gypsy court and she would no longer be a burden to the hospitality of the Vatican.
“She has already lost so much, it would be best if she was allowed to return to her own people without any… complications.”
The final word was loaded and the Cardinal’s eyes were cold. Gabriel was painfully aware that the man at least suspected him of breaching the Order’s rules. He did not need to be indebted to the Cardinal now.
“She is a remarkable young woman and deserves the happiness provided by the security of a family and marriage.”
Gabriel wanted to kill the man, because part of him knew the truth of his words. Anna missed her family terribly and he could never offer commitment or security to her. For eight years his life had been committed to the Order and destruction of evil. Jinette’s voice softened.
“You still seek for your forgotten past. The Order can be very helpful in recovering those memories.”
He gave the cardinal a hateful look.
x x x x x x x
Gyorgy’s house was silent. Not even the slight flames of the candles flickered. Anna felt uncomfortable as the silk of her dress rustled against the stone floor as a silent servant lead her into the library. A few men were gathered around the huge oak desk; in the centre stood a broad-shouldered man. He made a move to bow.
“My Lady Valerious, this is an honour beyond…”
“Do not patronise me by playing this game, Gyorgy. We are both too soaked in the blood of our people not to know why I am here.”
Anna made a motion towards the papers on the old man’s desk. He looked at her silently, perhaps for the first time with pride and pulled out the release orders. The other men stood away from the desk as Anna took her chair. She fingered the brittle parchment; so this is how strong a ruler’s hold truly is. She took the offered quill and signed. They both stood up and Anna moved to leave, but suddenly Gyorgy offered his hand. This was not done; she was not his equal, especially not now. She took the hardened palm into her own and bid him good-bye. Before she could take her leave he also offered her a small back card.
“My Lady, there is always someone left to fight.”
His eyes were closed off, but Anna took the card none the less. As she arrived to the courtyard she noticed that the drivers had taken a leave; had probably gone to the kitchen to drink with the house’s help: most likely expecting her visit to be much longer. She felt no need to inform them otherwise. Anna released one of the horses from the coach and rose on; properly, she was a lady no longer.
“Lady Valerious.”
Gyorgy stood in the faint light of the doorway, his face cloaked in shadow.
“May God protect you in the darkness of the night.”
Silently Anna nodded in return. This had always been her place; the endless battles against forces that could never be defeated or would never perish. She understood Gyorgy’s choices now; even when she did not respect them. There was always someone left to fight. A ruler was too vulnerable, too important to the system of society to fight such an enemy. She had been born and bred for this. She raised her hand and hailed her King goodbye. She rode out through the gate; leaving the carriage of a high born lady behind.
When she arrived back to the Vatican she pulled out her long sword and pistol, admiring them in the low light. With a look she silenced the questions from the young servants as she fastened her corset. She needed familiar ground, to feel the iron hard against her palm; the feel of a dying enemy under her sword.
x x x x x x x
Cardinal Jinette tried to compose himself. In merely an hour he was supposed to present and wrap up the matter of Dracula in front of the Order’s council. Slowly he fingered the papers resting on his desk; among them a suspiciously short and simple report from Van Helsing of his experiences in Transylvania. The document in question had roused the Cardinals suspicion and he had sent two monks back to Transylvania to gather information on the events that had taken place. That report had been thick and intricate.
It seemed that the Princess had been in a maelstrom of controversy even before Van Helsing’s arrival, but the death of her brother and the arrival of an unrelated male into the Valerious manor had created more than enough gossip among the villagers. The investigators had however faced the problem of separating the actual events from the sensational lies; such as a tittering servant girl’s tale of how Princess and Van Helsing had desecrated the old Valerious chapel. The Cardinal was reluctant to believe that the pious Princess would allow her family’s chapel and final resting place be violated in such a manner; but no smoke without fire.
Jinette had also entertained the possibility that the Princess was not in Rome willingly. Van Helsing was a crude and violent man, who hunted and killed for a living. Even though the Princess presented a cold front befitting royalty, she was no more than a lonely young woman bereft of protection from her father or from her brother. However the case may be Jinette had seen fit to provide the Princess with her own quarters and with suitable distraction in order to stop her from distracting Van Helsing. The order was on a holy, but dangerous, mission; distractions for its most prized fighter would lead to loss of dedication. Jinette had fought too hard for Van Helsing’s obedience to lose him to some gypsy tart.
x x x x x x x
Carelessly she dropped the swords by the door. Blood, sweat and dust from the roads had created a mosaic of strange shapes on her face, creating a look of a primitive warrior.
“Out!”
She barked the orders with much more force than she felt. The young girls the Vatican had provided her as servants scuttled fast into the hallway and left. She unhooked her corset without ceremony and picked up a bottle of red wine from the lower cupboard, where she had managed to hide it. She took her battered body to the window sill, looking out to the twinkling city and slowly sipping from the bottle.
She could feel the aliveness of Rome in the air, the smoke, the blood, the pulse of life. She instinctively knew that this was not her city, nor her place. The dirty back alleys where she had gone in search of the violence of her former life were unwelcoming. Even as she hacked and mutilated the vampires praying on the poor and the weak, she could feel their gazes; not just the gazes of her clansmen, but the beggars and the streetwalkers of the stinky streets. She was an abomination to their eyes: a woman wielding the power of the sword and of the kill. She longed for the darkness of her village where the people understood the necessity of her position.
It became a strenuous existence for Anna. Her violent temper frightened away most of the servants and the few nuns who had been ordered to keep her company. Her lavish apartment turned into a silent ghost house. She let herself sleep late into the day and spent her afternoons reading some of the silly books the Order had considered proper for her. It was stifling and boring.
It made her nights even more violent. Now she craved it; the pull and the crunch; the smell of supernatural blood. She exhausted herself by rescuing whores and street urchins until the light words of the women’s novels disappeared from her minds eye.
Almost three weeks had gone by since her arrival when the Order sent a priest. He was a young and unschooled. The servants had most likely informed him of her nightly treks and he arrived neatly before sunrise.
Anna gave him a look and continued to clean her sword; long even strokes with the blood soaked rag. Her face was still covered in the fine dust of the streets; light linen shirt barely covering anything. She seethed her sword and pulled her pistol out. She smiled at the visible tremor that ran though the man. Jinette was indeed a fool. She turned to face the man, eyes cold.
“Tell Van Helsing that next time he sends a lackey I will take off one of your fingers.”
The man ran. Anna felt vindictive pleasure in the man’s fear. She tuned her eyes to her pistol; her brother’s pistol. He would be so angry at her. Velkan had always been so gentle. When Anna had felt the need to rage and break their mother’s china he had always known how to calm her; how to make the rage go away. For a moment she had thought Gabriel might have found the same magic, but he was gone now as well. Not like this, sister dear. With stealth and bravado. That is how you charm them in the end and bring forth destruction.
Her eyes turned to the small card that had been handed to her by Gyorgy. She had pushed it carelessly in between two books. It was just an address written in an elegant hand; so innocent; so dark. It was an easy decision to make.
The following evening she washed herself in the cold vat of water left for her by the servants hours before. Some of them obviously still braved her temper. She chose a large black silk gown with an open bodice. Her face she hid behind a black leather mask. The Vatican stable was easy to break into. The horses were calm and looked on interested as she saddled a large black mare and rode out.
x x x x x x x
Azare was bored, the string of masquerades, hosted each night to parade the freshest, the most beautiful blood of Rome for his inspection. He desired a mate, not some pompous fool with naïve thought of an eternal existence. They were hunters, beasts above all and he suspected none worthy could be found in the powdered peacocks on offer tonight. He left his partner abruptly at the dance floor, making his way into the kitchens. He pulled aside a young kitchen maid, sinking his teeth to her throat, killing the girl in minutes. The staff paid him no mind, and would carry out the body with the rest of the leftovers of the feast. He returned to the ball, feeling much better.
He saw her descend down the stairs, magnificent body wrapped in black, face hidden beneath leather. He could feel the ripples in the room as the males turned in her direction; most guided by the simple sensation of the scent of her entrance. The first dance she accepted from a young one. Azare did not mind; he had time. He wanted her to grow accustomed to the room; to their presence in the crowd. Her entrance had made his skin vibrate as no one had in a long time: only in the company of a worthy opponent or a worthy match. He would enjoy discovering which one she was.
x x x x x x x
Anna felt him approach. The same pressure in the back of her spine that Dracula had caused back home; suddenly a huge wave of comfort to flooded her body. This was home; this was her darkness. She slowly turned to her admirer. The party was all different and the monsters of her homeland wore different masks of humanity and civility, but it was still common ground. It was still unfathomable evil to be defeated. He did not speak at first. Only took her hand and gave it the slightest kiss. She could still feel his cold breath.
“I am Azare, the protector of this ball. You must accompany me for the next dance. I have been told it is a waltz.”
His voice was pleasant, slightly deeper than Anna had expected and she smiled and nodded confirming his request.
“But I cannot take you to the floor unless I know your name, Lady.”
He was quick to pull her closer; hand on her side ready sweep her off. Anna weighted the man’s words silently, causing slight crumbling of his bravado. Then smiled; she liked him well enough.
“This is a ball of masks, stranger; of hidden faces. Names are of no consequence tonight. If you wish to lead me to a dance you must do so without my name. Can you do that, sir?”
“I believe I can.”
He said smiling.
“A lady must be allowed to keep some secrets.”
His dance was different; slow and probing. Dracula was all about harsh control; his mastery over his victims. Azare did not feel the same pressure for control. He wished for her participation in the dance: her willingness to share the floor with him. It was a slow blooming realization for Anna. He was not courting her for a kill. It was a strange sensation of comfort and belonging that filled her during the waltz. The feminine features she had learned to suppress began to surface as her body began to grow accustomed to the heavy fabric of the dress around her legs; to the binding strength of the bodice. She was a princess courted by a handsome stranger in a masked ball; this had never been her life. The strangeness of her surroundings was however dimmer by the familiar feel of vampires. The pressure of an enemy near brought her home again; binding her strange new feminine self tightly with the warrior senses still in her. She smiled seductively to her dance partner. She could hunt like this. She could hunt under the illusion of civility and polite society.
Into the valleys
The shadow of death
Grieves silently across the darkened sea
This is it
We stand alone
We can see it all from here
The starless night across the mountain side
No one left to talk to
There's nothing left to say
- Sarah McLachlan “As the End Draws Near”
But under skinned knees and the skid marks
Past the places where you used to learn
You howl and listen
Listen and wait for the
Echoes of angels who won't return
- Vertical Horizon, “Everything You Want”
The Vatican, April 1889
Cardinal Jinette was not a patient man by nature. The last years of supervising the missions of Gabriel Van Helsing had put a great strain on Jinette’s tolerance. The man was insolent, blasphemous and refused to abide by many of the Order’s rules of engagement. Jinette smiled humourlessly; engagement indeed. He had not expected perfect results from the mission in Transylvania, but still he had not expected this. Van Helsing had returned victorious, but he had not returned alone. The princess had been with him. Jinette had seen paintings of the girl; they however did not do her justice.
Van Helsing’s return had taken much more time than the Order had anticipated. Most of the field men were on assignments around the globe and Jinette had been forced to allow a potentially dangerous situation near the Lake Garda go unchecked. Jinette had not bothered to wait for the man in the confessional, but had walked up to meet him at the basilica’s entrance. To his dismay Anna Valerious had stood next to the hunter head held high and uncovered. A large sword had hung on her hip and a large battle axe was tied to her back.
She had spoken to Van Helsing; and to Jinette himself, as she was an equal. The Cardinal could understand that in their desperation Boris Valerious had allowed his daughter to join the battle; but he had not expected her to be so crude. As Jinette had pulled Van Helsing aside and explained the situation plaguing the city of Riva she had followed. She had looked Jinette in the eyes without any decorum and had assumed that she would be accompanying Van Helsing to his assignment. Jinette had felt like slapping the woman. Luckily Van Helsing had had the sense of putting her in her place. He had been slightly suspicious of the surprise that flashed on the woman’s face before the rage had set in. Friar Carl, always the diplomat, had fortunately lead her away from Jinette and Van Helsing, promising to show her assigned living quarters. Jinette had not seen the girl since.
What had later on begun to erode on his mind the most were the rumours that began circulating among the Order’s and the Vatican’s staff. It was understood that the relationship between Van Helsing and the Princess had become inappropriate. Friar Carl had vehemently denied this when Jinette had queried him about the gossip. However the rumours could be potentially damaging to the Church, whose guest the Princess was currently. Even though she was not part of any national court her position as the Princess of the Gypsies still held some power; especially here in Rome where most of the clan heads had spies and informants. He turned towards the Priest who had entered few minutes previously.
“Ah, Father. There is an urgent matter that requires your attention. I trust that you will inform Mother Superior of these matters as well…”
x x x x x x x
The first days of her stay in Rome had not gone as Anna had expected. The years her family had sacrificed defending their land and their faith against the evil of Dracula was obviously of no consequence or worthy of praise when the only remaining defender was a woman. She had felt the Cardinal’s cold gaze sweep over her in St. Peter’s cathedral; felt his disdain. That was nothing however compared to the rage that bubbled up in her at Gabriel’s refusal to allow her to accompany him to Riva. It was as if he did not see her anymore. Seeing no reason to fight an already lost battle she had allowed Carl to guide her, still fuming, into the guest wing of the complex.
She fast noticed that the Vatican planned to keep her up in luxury befitting a royal guest, but otherwise she would be isolated from any business regarding Transylvania or The Knights of the Holy Order. Once more her body had become her enemy. She was no longer a warrior; not even in Gabriel’s eyes. Bitterly she understood that now that he had taken pleasure in her body, found that indeed beneath all that rage and fight was only a woman he could not trust her to wage war anymore. She had forced herself not to cry; not to let the sorrow that almost overwhelmed her senses to take over. She had learned to be strong in the face of emotional trials; to let them rein in the darkness of her rooms when the need arose.
She had not even been allowed to see Carl. Her part in the destruction of Dracula or Gabriel’s sudden recovery from lycanthropy was not mentioned or discussed. In truth she had been isolated from all events concerning her family. The only company she had been officially allowed were the young tittering servants and the young nuns who were associated with the order. Anna had bored with them quickly. She had fast realised that while she was no prisoner, her stay in the Vatican was monitored. After few days of observing the movements of the guards she found a few good routes out of the complex and into the city.
She toured Rome on her own, preferring the narrow alleys of the more disreputable parts of the city than the grand sights and promenades that attracted the main crowds. She had expected the hostility towards her clothes and mannerisms, but not to this degree; women and men looked upon her with open contempt. She had found some refuge in the gypsy quartet, but had not lingered there for long in fear of meeting some of her clan’s elders, who were in no way informed of her stay in Rome.
It was slowly beginning to dawn on her that she was alone on hostile ground. The priests worked slowly, but surely to erode the identity of the warrior she had been raised as. She had seen the gowns and feminine capes that had miraculously appeared in the closet. Every night she was forced to hide her own clothing underneath her mattress in fear of not finding them in the morning anymore. She marvelled at how similar the church’s strategies of disempowering her were to those of Dracula. The beautiful surroundings, servants and the mockingly expensive silk clothing. She truly felt caged in the beauty and luxury. After the first few lonely days she had forbidden herself to think of Gabriel. He was not coming back for her.
It had only been seven days when the letter arrived. Of course Anna had expected it, but not so soon. The letter commanded her to attend a gathering of the gypsy court of Rome in order to discuss the final feat over Dracula. Anna saw the signature; Gyorgy, and understood that her family’s reign was over. The invitation was merely a formality to strip her of her rights to the lands, to her rights to the court. Gyorgy had been the stand-in ruler for as long as Anna could remember. He father had been King, but their family’s pledge had consumed his life. The Gypsies were not too bothered with by a formal ruler, but there still must be a King who will act as a uniting force between the feuding clans. Now the title was Grorgy’s right. Anna knew that she had to step down silently. Gyorgy had four sons to any of whom she could be easily enough offered as a bride now that her father and brother were gone. She had to step down and disappear.
Years ago Anna had sword she would not be anyone’s war prize; anyone’s possession. She knew that the kills she had performed during her life gave her protection against being robbed as a bride, but not for long. She needed to be claimed by someone in the eyes of the clan or she needed to vanish. It had become apparent that Gabriel would not be of any help during these proceedings and she would be left with no other choice.
She stood proud as the servant girls dressed her in the finest midnight blue gown provided and she strapped her two swords and her pistol to her waist. She would not step down with a bowed head.
x x x x x x x
The twitching of the young man’s limbs slowly subsided as his body expelled its final breath. The girl was still silently sobbing in the corner, but Gabriel could not bring himself to care. He had been rather more brutal than necessary with the warlock. He had kept the town under his thrall with a few simple spells; demanding maidens, money and power, rather unimaginative Gabriel had thought. The boy had had power in his fingertips, but very little experience on how to use it. He understood the Order’s need to deal with the situation fast before the boy’s powers had begun to escalate.
He had known that Jinette would never have allowed Anna to accompany him. He had also felt the need to keep his relationship with Anna from him. Gabriel had never discussed it, but the Order was not very tolerant towards women. Companionship was to be found in friendships between the knights themselves. The secrecy of their missions forced most of them to forgo any hopes for family life. Their reward was to be a divine one, pleasures of the flesh were denied to them as much as they were to the priests. He had presumed that Anna would understand his need for diplomacy with the Order; had presumed that he would have time to explain. The flinched look in her eyes at his words, even though her body remained motionless, told him all he needed to know. He could not take this back; would never be forgiven. He had wanted to fall at her feet and beg, but his pride would not let him; not under the watchful eye of the Cardinal. So he had watched her retreating back as Carl lead her away.
She had loved the sea. The crossing from Privlaka had been an unusual one. For two days the ship had been surrounded by a misty calm, the sailors had been anxious and the captain worried. Anna on the other hand had loved it. She had stood on the misty covered deck for hours looking out into the ocean. On early mornings he had often found her in the helm wrapped in his coat. The salt had clung to her skin, making their bed smell like the ocean. It was the closest he had even come to bliss. Part of him had however known that all things must come to an end. The stillness had been otherwordly; as if easing their passage from the mythical lands of Transylvania into the modern Rome.
That was gone now. Her eyes had closed off when he had refused her; refused to trust her strength. He pulled his tojo blades into hiding again and walked to the shivering young girl. He rode back into town with the girl’s arms tightly constricting his waist. Her family offered him dinner and a bed for the night, but he was needed back in Rome.
Evening had fallen over the Holy City when Gabriel finally rode into the stables. The lateness of the hour allowed him to enter through the Basilica. He had cabled Jinette from Riva of his arrival and hoped that the Cardinal would be already waiting for him in the confessional.
The man was snappish, but professional. He seemed unusually pleased over the demise of the young warlock; Gabriel refused to question the man’s moods. He moved to leave, but the other man’s cold voice stopped him.
“It would be prudent if you would not be in contact with the Princess anymore; easier for all of us.”
He gave the Cardinal a cold look.
“I brought her here and I will not cut contact with her merely because you would wish it.”
He moved to exit the confessional.
“Van Helsing!”
The Cardinal’s voice was almost pleading, but still managed to retain its harsh quality.
“The Princess has family here. The gypsy court that resides in Rome has taken her under their protection.”
Few days earlier the cardinal had received a letter from the leader of the Central European tribes of the gypsies: Gyorgy Faw. He had been very clear: Anna Valerious would bee stripped of her station and her right of rule would be transferred to Gyorgy’s family. The man had assured that a suitable place would be found for the princess within the gypsy court and she would no longer be a burden to the hospitality of the Vatican.
“She has already lost so much, it would be best if she was allowed to return to her own people without any… complications.”
The final word was loaded and the Cardinal’s eyes were cold. Gabriel was painfully aware that the man at least suspected him of breaching the Order’s rules. He did not need to be indebted to the Cardinal now.
“She is a remarkable young woman and deserves the happiness provided by the security of a family and marriage.”
Gabriel wanted to kill the man, because part of him knew the truth of his words. Anna missed her family terribly and he could never offer commitment or security to her. For eight years his life had been committed to the Order and destruction of evil. Jinette’s voice softened.
“You still seek for your forgotten past. The Order can be very helpful in recovering those memories.”
He gave the cardinal a hateful look.
x x x x x x x
Gyorgy’s house was silent. Not even the slight flames of the candles flickered. Anna felt uncomfortable as the silk of her dress rustled against the stone floor as a silent servant lead her into the library. A few men were gathered around the huge oak desk; in the centre stood a broad-shouldered man. He made a move to bow.
“My Lady Valerious, this is an honour beyond…”
“Do not patronise me by playing this game, Gyorgy. We are both too soaked in the blood of our people not to know why I am here.”
Anna made a motion towards the papers on the old man’s desk. He looked at her silently, perhaps for the first time with pride and pulled out the release orders. The other men stood away from the desk as Anna took her chair. She fingered the brittle parchment; so this is how strong a ruler’s hold truly is. She took the offered quill and signed. They both stood up and Anna moved to leave, but suddenly Gyorgy offered his hand. This was not done; she was not his equal, especially not now. She took the hardened palm into her own and bid him good-bye. Before she could take her leave he also offered her a small back card.
“My Lady, there is always someone left to fight.”
His eyes were closed off, but Anna took the card none the less. As she arrived to the courtyard she noticed that the drivers had taken a leave; had probably gone to the kitchen to drink with the house’s help: most likely expecting her visit to be much longer. She felt no need to inform them otherwise. Anna released one of the horses from the coach and rose on; properly, she was a lady no longer.
“Lady Valerious.”
Gyorgy stood in the faint light of the doorway, his face cloaked in shadow.
“May God protect you in the darkness of the night.”
Silently Anna nodded in return. This had always been her place; the endless battles against forces that could never be defeated or would never perish. She understood Gyorgy’s choices now; even when she did not respect them. There was always someone left to fight. A ruler was too vulnerable, too important to the system of society to fight such an enemy. She had been born and bred for this. She raised her hand and hailed her King goodbye. She rode out through the gate; leaving the carriage of a high born lady behind.
When she arrived back to the Vatican she pulled out her long sword and pistol, admiring them in the low light. With a look she silenced the questions from the young servants as she fastened her corset. She needed familiar ground, to feel the iron hard against her palm; the feel of a dying enemy under her sword.
x x x x x x x
Cardinal Jinette tried to compose himself. In merely an hour he was supposed to present and wrap up the matter of Dracula in front of the Order’s council. Slowly he fingered the papers resting on his desk; among them a suspiciously short and simple report from Van Helsing of his experiences in Transylvania. The document in question had roused the Cardinals suspicion and he had sent two monks back to Transylvania to gather information on the events that had taken place. That report had been thick and intricate.
It seemed that the Princess had been in a maelstrom of controversy even before Van Helsing’s arrival, but the death of her brother and the arrival of an unrelated male into the Valerious manor had created more than enough gossip among the villagers. The investigators had however faced the problem of separating the actual events from the sensational lies; such as a tittering servant girl’s tale of how Princess and Van Helsing had desecrated the old Valerious chapel. The Cardinal was reluctant to believe that the pious Princess would allow her family’s chapel and final resting place be violated in such a manner; but no smoke without fire.
Jinette had also entertained the possibility that the Princess was not in Rome willingly. Van Helsing was a crude and violent man, who hunted and killed for a living. Even though the Princess presented a cold front befitting royalty, she was no more than a lonely young woman bereft of protection from her father or from her brother. However the case may be Jinette had seen fit to provide the Princess with her own quarters and with suitable distraction in order to stop her from distracting Van Helsing. The order was on a holy, but dangerous, mission; distractions for its most prized fighter would lead to loss of dedication. Jinette had fought too hard for Van Helsing’s obedience to lose him to some gypsy tart.
x x x x x x x
Carelessly she dropped the swords by the door. Blood, sweat and dust from the roads had created a mosaic of strange shapes on her face, creating a look of a primitive warrior.
“Out!”
She barked the orders with much more force than she felt. The young girls the Vatican had provided her as servants scuttled fast into the hallway and left. She unhooked her corset without ceremony and picked up a bottle of red wine from the lower cupboard, where she had managed to hide it. She took her battered body to the window sill, looking out to the twinkling city and slowly sipping from the bottle.
She could feel the aliveness of Rome in the air, the smoke, the blood, the pulse of life. She instinctively knew that this was not her city, nor her place. The dirty back alleys where she had gone in search of the violence of her former life were unwelcoming. Even as she hacked and mutilated the vampires praying on the poor and the weak, she could feel their gazes; not just the gazes of her clansmen, but the beggars and the streetwalkers of the stinky streets. She was an abomination to their eyes: a woman wielding the power of the sword and of the kill. She longed for the darkness of her village where the people understood the necessity of her position.
It became a strenuous existence for Anna. Her violent temper frightened away most of the servants and the few nuns who had been ordered to keep her company. Her lavish apartment turned into a silent ghost house. She let herself sleep late into the day and spent her afternoons reading some of the silly books the Order had considered proper for her. It was stifling and boring.
It made her nights even more violent. Now she craved it; the pull and the crunch; the smell of supernatural blood. She exhausted herself by rescuing whores and street urchins until the light words of the women’s novels disappeared from her minds eye.
Almost three weeks had gone by since her arrival when the Order sent a priest. He was a young and unschooled. The servants had most likely informed him of her nightly treks and he arrived neatly before sunrise.
Anna gave him a look and continued to clean her sword; long even strokes with the blood soaked rag. Her face was still covered in the fine dust of the streets; light linen shirt barely covering anything. She seethed her sword and pulled her pistol out. She smiled at the visible tremor that ran though the man. Jinette was indeed a fool. She turned to face the man, eyes cold.
“Tell Van Helsing that next time he sends a lackey I will take off one of your fingers.”
The man ran. Anna felt vindictive pleasure in the man’s fear. She tuned her eyes to her pistol; her brother’s pistol. He would be so angry at her. Velkan had always been so gentle. When Anna had felt the need to rage and break their mother’s china he had always known how to calm her; how to make the rage go away. For a moment she had thought Gabriel might have found the same magic, but he was gone now as well. Not like this, sister dear. With stealth and bravado. That is how you charm them in the end and bring forth destruction.
Her eyes turned to the small card that had been handed to her by Gyorgy. She had pushed it carelessly in between two books. It was just an address written in an elegant hand; so innocent; so dark. It was an easy decision to make.
The following evening she washed herself in the cold vat of water left for her by the servants hours before. Some of them obviously still braved her temper. She chose a large black silk gown with an open bodice. Her face she hid behind a black leather mask. The Vatican stable was easy to break into. The horses were calm and looked on interested as she saddled a large black mare and rode out.
x x x x x x x
Azare was bored, the string of masquerades, hosted each night to parade the freshest, the most beautiful blood of Rome for his inspection. He desired a mate, not some pompous fool with naïve thought of an eternal existence. They were hunters, beasts above all and he suspected none worthy could be found in the powdered peacocks on offer tonight. He left his partner abruptly at the dance floor, making his way into the kitchens. He pulled aside a young kitchen maid, sinking his teeth to her throat, killing the girl in minutes. The staff paid him no mind, and would carry out the body with the rest of the leftovers of the feast. He returned to the ball, feeling much better.
He saw her descend down the stairs, magnificent body wrapped in black, face hidden beneath leather. He could feel the ripples in the room as the males turned in her direction; most guided by the simple sensation of the scent of her entrance. The first dance she accepted from a young one. Azare did not mind; he had time. He wanted her to grow accustomed to the room; to their presence in the crowd. Her entrance had made his skin vibrate as no one had in a long time: only in the company of a worthy opponent or a worthy match. He would enjoy discovering which one she was.
x x x x x x x
Anna felt him approach. The same pressure in the back of her spine that Dracula had caused back home; suddenly a huge wave of comfort to flooded her body. This was home; this was her darkness. She slowly turned to her admirer. The party was all different and the monsters of her homeland wore different masks of humanity and civility, but it was still common ground. It was still unfathomable evil to be defeated. He did not speak at first. Only took her hand and gave it the slightest kiss. She could still feel his cold breath.
“I am Azare, the protector of this ball. You must accompany me for the next dance. I have been told it is a waltz.”
His voice was pleasant, slightly deeper than Anna had expected and she smiled and nodded confirming his request.
“But I cannot take you to the floor unless I know your name, Lady.”
He was quick to pull her closer; hand on her side ready sweep her off. Anna weighted the man’s words silently, causing slight crumbling of his bravado. Then smiled; she liked him well enough.
“This is a ball of masks, stranger; of hidden faces. Names are of no consequence tonight. If you wish to lead me to a dance you must do so without my name. Can you do that, sir?”
“I believe I can.”
He said smiling.
“A lady must be allowed to keep some secrets.”
His dance was different; slow and probing. Dracula was all about harsh control; his mastery over his victims. Azare did not feel the same pressure for control. He wished for her participation in the dance: her willingness to share the floor with him. It was a slow blooming realization for Anna. He was not courting her for a kill. It was a strange sensation of comfort and belonging that filled her during the waltz. The feminine features she had learned to suppress began to surface as her body began to grow accustomed to the heavy fabric of the dress around her legs; to the binding strength of the bodice. She was a princess courted by a handsome stranger in a masked ball; this had never been her life. The strangeness of her surroundings was however dimmer by the familiar feel of vampires. The pressure of an enemy near brought her home again; binding her strange new feminine self tightly with the warrior senses still in her. She smiled seductively to her dance partner. She could hunt like this. She could hunt under the illusion of civility and polite society.