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The Hunt - chapter 32 + 33

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32

Thick white snowflakes whirled in the cones of light that the street lamps emitted. It was calming, somehow, soothing, to drive through a silent winter night somewhere in the middle of nowhere, the cold outside contrasting with the comfortable warmth in the car. They had rented it before going to London.

The last two days they had spent in the North of Denmark. Now they had crossed the sea and drove through South Norway. In the distance, River could see an early firework go off.

“I still don’t get how you manage to produce these strange sounds,” River said offhandedly. When Andreji spoke Danish, he could hardly tell one word from the other.

The driver smiled benignly. “That is merely a matter of exercise. In fact, Danish is one of my favourite languages. You should get used to Nordic languages anyway; the elder you get, the less you will be able to tolerate sunlight. Living in Scandinavia can enhance your freedom, as nights last longer here.”

“More vampire equals less sun tolerance?” River reduced it to an easy formula.

Andreji smiled amusedly and nodded.

“How much sunlight can you handle?”

“Without negative effects on my health? None. Not even a walk at dawn.”

River peered out into the black night and let his thoughts wander. “So, will you tell me now where exactly we are going?” he asked eventually.

Andreji pressed the indicator and turned the steering wheel. “A gathering.”

River pulled up his eyebrows. “A gathering? Like the last one? Back in Scotland?”

Andreji glanced at him. “A more important one.”

River looked at his lover’s face that was immersed in the cool light of the night. “What about a few more details?”

“The gathering takes place every five years. All vampire clans or other groups that are on friendly terms take part in it.”

“And what is it good for?” River wanted to know.

“To keep in touch. And to have a neutral ground for talks if there are frictions between groups or single people. In rare cases, a select group of vampires, one representative for each clan, will make a judgement to restore relative peace and order amongst us. Despite very different ideas about what a vampire should behave like, we all know that we cannot allow war amongst us, as it would endanger our secrecy.”

A thought crossed River’s mind. “A representative for each clan? That means Demyan’s Master will be there, right?”

They turned into a farm track. “Not necessarily. The representatives are chosen because of special skills that are not always valued within the clans. Therefore the clan leader is not necessarily the representative. When he became the leader, the Scottish clan isolated itself from other vampires. I told you they consider themselves superior; that they see the others as animals.”

“So he won’t be there?” River sought to ascertain.

“Oh yes, I hope he will be.”



After twenty minutes on the farm track, they arrived at a field on which several dozen cars were parked already. They stopped next to one with an Italian licence tag.

River’s heart beat faster as he saw the great number of vehicles. So now he would get to know the people he would belong to from now on. Still, he was uneasy, nervous. He stuck close to Andreji as they went on.

They took a narrow path up a mountain. In front of and behind them there walked a few others. River tried to make out their faces and their whole appearance, but in the dark he could not see much. The path wore on. River pulled his collar up to shield himself from the cold wind. What were they heading for?

The path wound around the mountain into a narrow dale. River chose not to look down. Next to the track, the rock dropped off almost vertically. Eventually, River noticed how the people in front of them disappeared.

Suddenly he felt Andreji’s arm drawing him closer. “Stay at my side.” The man reached out and lifted a black curtain.

Behind it, a narrow corridor appeared. However, it did not have the cave-like look River knew from Scotland. The walls were finely chiselled. These were obviously no natural caves but artificially created rooms. And what rooms they were! The corridor soon widened and was lit by electric lamps. Were its walls blank, the rooms that it led to were painted in different styles. Some very elegant, others rustic. Their seating furniture was picked accordingly. In many of them music was played on real instruments – a lute, a cembalo, a piano, a string duo, drums and others. Patio heaters kept the rooms warm.

And there were people everywhere. Many were dressed in modern clothes, but some wore garments that were tailored in old ways or at least reminded River of dressing styles he knew only from costume movies. Dozens of different languages floated through the air. Some men nodded politely when they grew aware of Andreji’s presence.

Andreji took his time moving through the crowd. Since he talked to no one, River had the impression that his Master was doing that for him, so he could see as much as he wanted. After half an hour, in the fifth room, Andreji steered them into a corner. “You look much improved,” Andreji greeted Demyan and embraced him fleetingly. For his company he did not have more than a quick glance.

River greeted Sage and Demyan with a smile and a simple “Hello.”

“So, why did you invite us here?” Demyan asked Andreji. “I have never taken part in these gatherings before.”

“One reason more to do so now. Or do you have a plausible explanation for not attending such an important event?”

Demyan eyed his fledgling intently. “Since when are you such a sociable person that you regard these things as important?”

“I am not sociable. I am a rational person; and as such I know that a certain amount of social integration has advantages,” Andreji said diplomatically.

Suddenly, an excited murmur went through the crowd. River could not make out its cause, but then he saw the alarmed look in Demyan’s face. “They are here? All of them?! Andreji!”

Andreji placed his left hand on Demyan’s shoulder (his right remained tightly around River’s hip). “Remain calm. You are safe.”

A gong sounded through the rooms. “Shall we go?” Andreji asked in an inviting tone, steering River towards the corridor.

“Where?” Demyan asked irritated.

“To the council.” Andreji went ahead, with River safely at his side and a confident smile on his lips.

They were swept by a stream of chattering people into a large hall. It was held in cream white, with crossed arches forming the ceiling. Light balls hung between the columns. The crowd tried to obtain a good place around an oval, hip-high wall in the middle of the room. Embedded in this wall were a number of seats. River could not count them in the jumble of men and women aiming for a good point from which they could see everything that was going to happen.

“Is there a hidden order in this? Are we supposed to stand at a defined place?” Demyan, who held Sage’s hand and kept a tight grip on Andreji’s shoulder, asked from behind them.

“No; just follow me,” Andreji replied. He made his way through the crowd.

River could see that some seats were occupied already. Others were just taken.

“There are no other fledglings here, are they?” River observed. “I mean, none that are not yet turned. None like me.” At least River could not see anyone that was held on such a tight leash as he was.

Andreji’s hand increased the pressure on his back for an instant in an encouraging manner. “Do not worry. You are safe with me.”

Yes, he had said that before. Yet, in the midst of such a large group of unknown people, unknown vampires, River’s faith in his Master wavered.

His gaze fell on the familiar face of a young woman that stood right in front of him. He inched closer to Andreji. That was the one who had lured him and his colleagues into a trap! Why was she here? Had Andreji not claimed to have “made her disappear”? She looked at the company indifferently, aloof, although River thought he saw her eyes widen minutely as they beheld Demyan. The man beside her, a hand on the small of her back, nodded at Andreji with a triumphant smile on his lips.

River’s Master nodded back neutrally and went past him, towards the oval wall. To River’s surprise, people made way for them, now, as if this place was reserved for them.

The gong sounded for the second time.

Andreji reached the wall, at level with one of the cushion filled hollows. He let go of River and took off his coat. Throwing the garment onto the wall next to the seat, he climbed over it and sank down on the ruby coloured cushion.

For a moment, River was dumbfounded. He looked at Demyan who stood next to him, but the elder man’s face held the same wonderment. River understood. So this was what Andreji had hinted at, the important fact about him that his own Master did not know. The man was not quite the lone wolf he always pretended to be.

River saw how Andreji exchanged silent greetings with his neighbours. Tentatively he put a hand on his Master’s shoulder.

A warm hand returned the touch. Andreji’s gaze remained directed to the other representatives.

Slowly, the loud murmur of the crowd ebbed away. The last seat, the fifteenth, as far as River could tell, had just been taken.

There were only two women in the circle. One looked old. She was rather small and seemed to come from Central Asia. Her face was round and tinged in a light brown; her nose was broad and flat as if it were made for a life in cold climate. Her eyes were dark and kind; her clothes were simple and traditional. The second woman was much younger. River guessed she had not reached her twentieth year before she had been turned. She was slender, with small shoulders over which her black braids were falling and dark, shining skin that contrasted with her bright orange cocktail dress and the golden jewellery.

The cultural background of the men was just as varied. There were men in modern, well tailored suits and others in rags; men with elaborate hair dresses or headscarves. The young woman was the only representative with dark skin, but there was a wide variety of Europeans and Asian people.

A third time, the sound of the gong carried through the air. The last voices fell silent.

A stout man rose from his seat and greeted the company with a heavy accent. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, to our merry gathering. I greet you and am pleased to see you have come in such large numbers! Once more it is my pleasure to be your host. I hope the pleasure is mutual and you enjoy yourselves.”

Polite clapping and enthusiastic cheers interrupted the speech.

“Before I pass the word, I would like to especially welcome our Scottish brothers and sisters, who visit us today for the first time in over three centuries!” He bowed into the direction where the majority of the clan was hunched together.

Indeed, River now saw, there was a remarkable number of them present. And the leader seemed not pleased at all with the warm welcome. Why were they here?

There was more polite clapping, but no enthusiasm this time.

“Since I am merely the humble host of this gathering, I pass word to Sunan, now, who – as the eldest of the council - still holds the privilege of moderating this meeting.” The man bowed much lower this time, as a tall Thai rose from his seat.

Sunan held himself with dignity, his gleaming black hair combed back, a gentle, benevolent smile on his lips. His gaze drifted slowly over the fourteen men and women of the council and then over the numerous people surrounding them.

Doing the same, River noticed that the number of foreign looking faces was much smaller amongst the onlookers in comparison to the composition of the council that was supposed to represent them. He guessed that the length of the journey detained many people from other continents from coming.

His eyes focusing on Sunan again, River wondered how old the eldest was.

The man commenced speaking. “I welcome you.”

A number of people spoke in hushed voices.

When they fell silent again, the eldest continued. “As is the custom of this gathering, I will first explain our customs to those who are new to our community or visit this council for the first time.”

Again, whispers set in. River looked around in irritation. The voices sounded independent of each other. He could not hear a conversation. Some of them sounded strangely unfamiliar. They died down.

“This council was first held in the twelfth century. Of course, at that time it was merely a gathering of some European clans and tribes. Yet soon the gathering was also visited by far gone travellers, and the council was wise enough to acknowledge the merit of an exchange of experience. In unison, we were able to solve every conflict that arose between members of our community and therefore maintain peace and security.

“However, we do not claim absolute truth. Our cultural heritages differ; we may not always agree on what is wrong and what is right. Therefore we do not interfere where we see no urgent need to.”

Now the voices murmured ceaselessly. And then it struck River. Of course! They were translating!

“We do not command. We have no other authority than our own strength that allows us to act upon what we have concluded. Thus those who take up a seat in this council must – above wisdom, intellectual independence, and a good heart which are also crucial requirements – have the ability to enforce our decisions. They need a gift beyond their common vampire strength to gain our appreciation.

“Of course, before we make our decisions, all of you are welcome to speak your mind. Which is what we are asking you to do now.” The Thai turned around and locked eyes with the Scottish clan leader.

“We have watched the on-goings in Scotland ever since the uprising against your Master. He asked us for support, but we chose to remain neutral. We have taken that standpoint ever since, although what was reported to us was unsettling at times, and not all of us were of the same opinion.” He bowed into Andreji’s general direction, but Andreji was not the only one who answered with a polite inclination of his head.

“We regarded the downthrow of your Master as a local change of powers that we should not get involved in, even though it resulted in the separation of the Scottish clan from this community and thus weakened our power in Western Europe, a circumstance that displeased especially the French.”

The man to Andreji’s right made a loud affirmative noise.

That seemed to be too much for the Scottish leader. “I did not come here to discuss my decisions! I came here because I was robbed of my fledgling! I was told she would be here! Hand her over and my clan leaves.”

Sunan lifted his chin slightly. “As far as I am informed, your fledgling has been taken from you by force, yes, but has long been set free again. Had she felt the desire to be at your side, she would be there already, nest-ce pas?” His face turned and looked into the group of French vampires amongst which the lady stood.

She curtseyed minutely.

River was not sure if she really meant it or if she had been ordered to play along.

The Scottish leader’s face hardened. Out of the corner of his eyes he looked darkly at Andreji. And then his eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he grew aware of Demyan’s presence.

“Murtagh of Cork,” Sunan went on. The name turned the leader’s eyes back on him. “Knowing of your dislike toward this council, we felt the need to give you a reason to heed our invitation. She was our bait. We regret that this step was necessary, but we felt obliged to finally take things into our own hands. Please step into the circle, so we can discuss the matter.”

The small man looked around as if he sought for a way out. Of course, there was none. Reluctantly, he did as he was asked. “What ‘matter’ are we talking about?”

Sunan motioned for him to step into the middle. “We have been contacted by a group of people that are members of your clan and highly dissatisfied with your reign. Under other circumstances, we would have refused to take a hand in inner affairs of a clan, but in light of things that have reached our ears over the centuries and especially in recent years, we felt it was right to approach you about this.” He paused and turned to the clan.

“Perhaps we should first hear those who have asked for this opportunity to voice their worries.”

Disquiet settled in the group of perhaps fifty people that had accompanied their leader. Silent looks were exchanged. Now was the time to step out into the open. Griet was the first to take heart and climb over the wall into the circle. Either out of a sense of duty or because her example encouraged them, others quickly followed her. In the end, about a dozen people stood opposite their leader.

Griet looked uncertainly at Sunan.

He smiled at her benignly. “Tell us why you have come here.”

“Well,” she started nervously, “there are several things that strike us as questionable. We are obliged to visit the clan’s main seat at least once a month. We are forbidden to seek contact with vampires who are not members of the clan. We are not given any information on what is going on in the vampire community. No one speaks about other clans; no one told us that this council existed. Whenever someone says anything that questions our leader’s rules, they have to reckon with reproval or even punishment for disobedience.”

Griet’s voice was strong, now, self-confident. “There are strict rules that have to be observed if you wish to take a fledgling. He exerts ‘justice’ upon those who disobey them – yet he does not hold to them himself. No one is allowed to have two fledglings at once. He even sentenced his own first born to death for disregarding the rule. But at the same time he had a twin couple warming his bed!”

“At a time when Demyan was still alive, moreover,” one of Griet’s companions chipped in. “He always claimed that his first born had left him and was no part of our clan anymore in order to justify his taking a new fledgling, but with what right did he sentence the man then, do I ask! In my opinion, it was not justice but an egoistic act of revenge because his own fledgling did not acknowledge his authority!”

“Many of us thought so at the time,” a third one added. “There was a lot of confidential murmuring about the affair, but no one dared to speak up.”

“No one ever dares to speak up,” Griet voiced her opinion again. “We are deprived of our independence. We are not allowed to make our own decisions. Whatever we say or do, we need to ponder if it will displease our leader and will thus endanger our position within the community or even our life. What is wrong with speaking with the French,” she motioned into their direction, “or the Scandinavians? Why can I not travel without the uncertainty if I will be welcomed back home?”

River could see that some of the clan members who had remained in the crowd of onlookers silently agreed with what Griet said or it at least set something in motion in them.

The leader snorted. “No freedom to go where you want to go? I wonder how he got onto his seat, then. Don’t tell me you are part of this council for the first time!” He pointed at Andreji.

Sunan answered in his stead. “Andreji followed your Maker Alaric when he deceased two centuries ago; that is true. However, he is not the subject of this meeting.”

“Oh yes, he is! After what has happened a year ago, I can only assume that he has betrayed my good faith in him from the start! With a silver blade he stabbed me! Disloyal, ungrateful brat! And what does that mean, ‘He is part of this council for two hundred years’? He told me he had been turned into a vampire about one century ago!”

A low chuckle rose from the crowd.

“Has everything you have told me been a lie?! Is even your name a lie? What about your Russian family?” ‘Murtagh’ – as Sunan had called him – seemed entirely convinced that not he was at fault but that Andreji was the person that had to be trialled, it seemed.

River’s Master leaned leisurely against the side of his seat and crossed his legs. “Well, Russian is definitely one of the language I am not very good at.” River caught a glimpse of a smirk.

“Trru,” another council member confirmed with a strong Slavic accent.

Now the crowd laughed out loudly.

Sunan gestured for them to calm down. “You are right that we owe you an explanation for this. After you had informed Andreji of his Master’s death, he was too shocked to react in the manner that – I believe – would have corresponded with his instinct – to seek revenge. Instead, he played along with you and sought the advice of another council member as soon as possible. Together, we could convince him to remain calm and wait for the right moment to seek justice. We feared that any act against you might provoke further acts of violence between the clans. Instead, we asked Andreji to become a source of information about the on-goings in Great Britain for us. To ensure the greatest safety possible for him, we made up a story that fit your belief that Andreji was still very young and would thus make him seem harmless to you.

In truth, Andreji is a little over four centuries of age.”

Surprised whispers were exchanged among the Scots. “His favourite lapdog! Who would have guessed that!” Someone whispered into Griet’s ear. “I told you all the time!” she retorted.

“And these methods are legitimate in your eyes?!” the leader protested.

“They did no damage. In contrast to what you did. We take no interest in what rules you set up in your clan. Frankly, that is a matter you need to discuss amongst each other,” he said while looking at Griet and her companions, “although of course we are always glad to offer you a neutral place to ensure a peaceful course of the conversation.

“What unsettles us is the ruthlessness and frequency with which you turn against your own blood and flesh. At first it was your Master. Since he was far more powerful than you, and you did not attack him out of base motives – so it seemed – but out of political reasons and with the help of others, we overlooked the incident. After all, Alaric survived it.

“For several centuries, everything seemed to go fine. Granted, you refused contact with us. Your first born soon ran from you and sought himself a fledgling of his own, and you eventually fell completely out with him. Yet you made no move against him. Moreover, by driving Demyan to take a fledgling, you accidentally found Alaric the long sought for successor. Few people have the gift that is required to join our circle; with Andreji there was finally found a worthy heir.

“It was not until you found out about Demyan’s second fledgling many decades later that you caught our attention again. That time, your actions once more did not seem to be based on the longing for personal revenge, but on the intention of making an example for your community. We saw no inducement to interfere.

“However, we have come to believe that you have misled us in our assessment of your motives. We know that you had come to despise your Master-“

“He was a sadist,” the leader hissed, “an animal.”

“I think no one who knew him disputes that,” Andreji made an unexpected concession. He seemed perfectly relaxed, as if the whole affair had little to do with him.

“But there is also no one who would say the same of my twin sister, is there?” the leader’s petite fledgling raised her voice that quavered in outrage.

Murtagh looked at her aghast. “I have nothing to do with her death! How can you believe that? That I kill my own beloved daughter! You heard the hunter confess…”

She interrupted him. “Yes, he confessed. But you sent him there, did you not? You assigned a mission to the beast hunters that would lead them right to her hideout, did you not?! Why?!” There were tears in her eyes.

The leader still looked flabbergasted.

The French representative rose and handed a small stack of paper to Sunan. “That is the evidence we found. The telephone bill of the number from which the call to the hunters was made and the statement of the bank account from which the mission was paid. Both belong to a woman on which Murtagh regularly feeds.”

“Why?” the petite repeated her question.

No reply, merely a paling face.

“I heard them argue once,” Griet said with furrowed brows as if she was trying hard to remember. “She asked him why he disappeared regularly once a month and accused him of having a secret fledgling. He said she was paranoid and should stop following him.”

“Once a month, you say?” Sunan asked thoughtfully. He turned to the clan leader again. “She was about to find out, was she not?”

Murtagh took a step back. He knew what was coming.

What was she about to find out?” the petite asked impatiently.

Sunan looked at Andreji.

Andreji turned around to Demyan. “Do you wish to step forward and tell your story yourself or do you prefer to be left out of this?”

Demyan looked over to his former Master. “I would like a say in the matter.”

Andreji rose so Demyan could climb over his seat.

Demyan remained standing next to him. After the last months, he felt safest at his fledgling’s side. At the sight of the one who had held him captive for decades, he needed that feeling.

Some scattered whispers could be heard in the audience. A couple of Scots exchanged bewildered looks. Most people, however, did not recognise the man. Due to the frequent disputes with his Master, he had avoided his own clan for most of the time but had at the same time not dared to seek contact with other communities.

“This is your first born, is he not?” Sunan asked Murtagh.

The man’s jaw was set. “Yes,” he pressed through clenched teeth.

The whispers grew more numerous. Griet’s look shuttled disbelievingly between Andreji and his Master.

“The one you claimed to have punished with death for his disloyalty fifty years ago?” Sunan dug deeper.

“Yes,” the leader ground out once more.

“Where has he been the last fifty years?”

Silence. “In the cellar of a house near London,” Murtagh murmured.

“Where you have held him captive and visited him about once a month. Is that correct?”

No response, but none was needed.

The African woman in the bright orange dress rose horrified. “A vampire needs to feed at least once a week! He did leave you people to drink from, did he not?”

Demyan hesitated for a moment. It seemed as if the memories were harder to stomach for him than he had anticipated. “No, he did not,” he said eventually. “He brought someone with him that he paid for donating a little blood to me.”

Demyan fumbled for Andreji’s hand for support. The strong grip strengthened him. After his escape, he had tried hard to suppress any memories, but now the events caught up with him.

Sunan let his gaze wander over the faces of the people. “What is to be done, now?” He finally asked. “Commonly, such cases are handled within the clan. Perhaps we should give you the opportunity to discuss the matter.”

The clan members eyed each other indecisively.

“He violated his own rules. He turned against one of us, surrendered her to those he promised to protect us from. What would he have done, I ask you, if it had been one of us?” one of Griet’s male companions argued. “He would have killed anyone who had committed such crimes on the spot!”

A discomposed murmur was exchanged between those who had stood by their leader until this point.

“True, his crimes are severe,” one of them admitted, “but he has done many good things as well. He has led us through hard times… Without him, Alaric would still be in power. You are too young to know what life in the clan was like under his reign, but believe me when I say that Murtagh has brought justice and peace.”

“I refuse to return to a clan that is under the leadership of the murderer of my sister!” the petite protested indignantly.

There was an uncomfortable pause in the discussion. Confusion and helplessness were written upon many faces.

Sunan turned to Andreji and Demyan, the couple that stood remote. “What do you consider an adequate punishment?”

Andreji looked interestedly at his Master, as if he had not been asked as well.

Demyan looked just as irresolute as the others. “I cannot think of a punishment that would appease me.”

Sunan was insistent. “What about you, Andreji? You have the highest authority in the clan, beside the leader.”

Andreji sat down calmly. “An authority that was not given to me by the clan. I have no right to make decisions about inner affairs. If you ask me as simple member, I say the following - Murthag might have been the better choice for leadership a few centuries ago. Yet better does not equal good. Leaving his crimes aside for a moment, he is not the right man for the job. I doubt he ever was, but he might have had his merits once. These days, his style of leadership is old fashioned and robs the clan members of their freedom as well as the safety they could gain in a net of cooperating clans.

“As to everything he has done for his own benefit at the expense of others,” Andreji shrugged tiredly, “- I, personally, do not see how revenge could undo the pain he induced. Perhaps depriving him of his privileges and forcing him to live with the consequences of his actions, with the consequences of everybody knowing what he has done, is the best alternative we have.”

Sunan looked around, locking eyes with one representative after the other. “This sounds like a reasonable suggestion. Still, what gives us certainty that Murtagh is going to change? That he will not go on handling matters the way he is used to?”

“Bar him from taking another fledgling until we trust him again,” the lady in the orange dress proposed. “After all, his fledglings were the ones who had to suffer the most.”

“Does that meet with approval?” Sunan asked.

A majority of the representatives nodded silently. There was no protest from anyone in the crowd.

“So be it.”

“But who will lead us now?” Griet asked concernedly.

Once more, Sunan turned towards Andreji and Demyan. And once more, Andreji acted entirely uninvolved. “Do you feel up to the job? According to the rule of precedence these privileges are yours. Is that an option for you?” he asked his Master.

Demyan looked over to the people he was suddenly supposed to lead. It was an interesting opportunity, yet he was not sure if he was ready for such a task.

“I am sure this is nothing that has to be decided immediately. Perhaps you should take your time to get to know each other and exchange ideas and expectations of new ways of living together…” Andreji suggested.

Demyan nodded minutely.


33

The council had been dissolved for the evening, and a throng of people again filled the theme chambers.

The group of Scottish vampires had been led into a backroom where there were cushions to sit on. It was obviously designed as a room to hold discussions in. The former leader had been excluded from this private meeting. After an hour of tentative approach, the clan arrived at the agreement to try a new organisational concept that would lessen the importance of the leader and allocate a more active role to the other members. Under these conditions, Demyan accepted the responsibility that was offered to him.

Andreji’s arm gently wrapped around him, River once more drifted through the crowd. Small groups of people that talked animatedly filled the hallway. Two men had a heated discussion in Greek, or so River guessed. A little further on, three people were involved in kissing and fumbling.

They were not the only ones. In a corner, a woman in a pompous dress was pressed against the wall by a man. A thin red stream ran down her neck from where their lips met. A few metres away stood an observer, eyeing them with a fascinated gleam in his eyes.

A man dressed in a tailcoat, wearing a top hat and carrying a cane, threw a disapproving glance at the display as he passed them by. “Some people have no sense of decency!” he murmured appalled to his companion who wore a high-necked crème-coloured lace dress.

Loud voices resounded in a room to their right.

“I think they are staging a play,” Andreji steered River to the entrance. They had to remain standing there since the room was packed already, but the stage was elevated so that they still saw the actors.

They watched for a few minutes; then River wanted to go on.

Andreji led him into a side corridor. It soon shaped up as a merchants’ path. There were tailors for the different époques, emphasising their expertise since they had learned their craft in those years when their fashion had been en vogue, carpenters and antiquaries who dealt in genuine furniture, and instrument makers who offered instruments that were nearly forgotten by modern society.

“Andreji, my friend!” someone called out behind them as they watched how a rebec, a forerunner of the violin, equipped with three cords, was made.

The two of them turned around.

“I’ve been hoping to meet you here!” a not very tall but stout man with an impressive moustache called out as he hurried towards them from the opposite stall. He shook hands with River’s Master. “Care to come over for a moment? I’ve got something I’d like to talk to you about.” He hurried back to his wares.

They sauntered over to him. There were a few examples of his work as a blacksmith displayed on his table; a book with photos and descriptions supplemented them.

He smiled apprehensively at Andreji. It seemed that ‘my friend’ had been a slight exaggeration. “You see,” he eagerly recommenced his quick talking that seemed his way of overcoming his nervousness, “I have been charged with the restoration of this huge collection. Unfortunately, there are a few pieces that are either embroidered with silver or are made completely out of it. The owner insisted on having all the repairs made by contemporaries, so… I thought you might be interested…”

“Fine. Give me a pen and a piece of paper,” Andreji replied.

The man fidgeted for a moment until he found the items.

Andreji wrote down a number and a short instruction. “Give that to your client and tell him to call me bearing in mind what I have described there.”

He made to turn, but halted as the merchant looked hesitant.

“I thought you could do the job on my behalf… You see, business is not going that well lately and I could use a bit of good reputation. If I tell the client that I cannot do half of the job, he’ll most likely withdraw the whole order…” He did not dare look at his colleague, knowing very well that he did not look his best with such a suggestion.

Andreji smirked. “So what do you have in mind? Selling my work under your name? Adding a few percent to the price so the business is profitable for you? –I do not think you are aware of my prices. I am known to be one of the best blacksmiths available for historic weapons and do not accept half of the enquiries I receive. I take my time, doing only the interesting, challenging jobs in best quality. People know that and pay accordingly. Of course, silver blades are extra charged because of their toxicity. My work is known and will not pass for yours, be assured of that. Furthermore, my prices would look very bad on your bill.”

The merchant motioned conciliatory. “I see, I see.” He was suddenly very interested in rearranging his stock in the wooden boxes behind him.

Andreji lifted up one of the swords and examined it intently. Then he leafed through the book, looking at the photos. “Fine. I have a suggestion.” He pulled out his mobile.

The merchant turned around with anxious expectation on his face.

“Give me your telephone number and I will refer people to you whose orders do not interest me – as long as there are no complaints about you.”

The other man beamed. “Very gracious!” He gave Andreji his number and they shook hands.

River and Andreji went on.

At a stall, deeply emerged in thick folders full of sheet music, they found Demyan.

“They have some extremely rare pieces here!” he enthused about the range of goods.

Andreji threw an amused glance at River and smiled.

“I assume you have been to the instrument makers already?” he asked his Master whose eyes, big like that of children on Christmas day, were glued to the notes.

“Hm?”

Andreji smirked meaningfully. “He has always been a dreamer,” he murmured into River’s ears. He held his fledgling in his arms for a moment.

“Shall we go to the goldsmith?” River suggested.

“As you wish.”

River was overwhelmed by the quantity and diversity of the handmade jewellery. There were not only colliers, bracelets, and rings but also belts, embellishments for shoes and hats, and even little embroidered hand mirrors, combs, and perfume flacons. River took a closer look at one of the flacons.

“Looking for a present for your Mistress, young man?” the merchant addressed him. “The perfumes to go along with the flacon are sold right over there.” He pointed to the opposite stall.

River turned around to look for Andreji, since the misunderstanding could only derive from his absence. He stood merely two metres away.

“Oh, I see,” the merchant made the connection immediately. “My apologies,” he directed his words to Andreji.

Andreji nodded calmly.

They sauntered over to the recommended stall (after River had discarded the idea to buy a present for Eriko, noticing the price of the flacons). The perfumer emphasised on the unmatched quality of his goods since they were made of one hundred percent natural flavours in contrast to modern mass products. There were indeed some ladies who fawned over the fragrances and seemed to buy enough to last until the next convention.

“Surely these merchants have shops somewhere, haven’t they?” River asked Andreji. “They can’t just sell their goods every five years!?”

Andreji smiled. “Of course not. But it’s convenient for the locals to buy what they need when the merchants come to them instead of having to travel to Southern France or Romania.”

“But how do they keep their shops? I mean, they can hardly stand behind the counter all day,” River was eager to learn.

Andreji shrugged. “They have human employees that take care of the trade whereas they concentrate on the manufacturing.”

River’s curiosity was still not satisfied. “Won’t their employees get suspicious if they never turn up during daytime?”

Amusement spread in his Master’s face. “Suspicious of what? They might find it strange, but humans will always accept a rational explanation. Such as ‘he’s an eccentric’. Lately there are some vampires who even openly admit that they cannot bear sunlight, since there are diseases with that effect. The existence of vampires is the last thing humans are willing to believe in.”

River nodded in agreement.

They arrived at the end of the merchants’ corridor. It opened out into a little hall where a slow waltz was played and a few couples were dancing.

“Care to dance with me?” Andreji asked with a playful smile.

“Are you serious?”

Andreji held out his hands.

“But I don’t know how!” River said half nervous, half stunned.

Andreji’s smirk widened. “I will show you.”

“Now, in front of all these people!?”

“When else?”

“Fine,” River recollected himself, “it’s your feet.”

After five minutes of chaos, River’s feet grew accustomed to a simple pattern of dancing steps. Being a gentleman, Andreji did not comment on the missteps here and there. After a quarter of an hour, River started to enjoy it.

“So, what are we going to do next?” he enquired. “I mean, Britain should be safer, now, shouldn’t it? Is there really a necessity to stay in France?”

Andreji shook his head slightly. “I guess my assistance will be needed concerning the reorganisation of the clan.”

“So back to Scotland?” River said with misgivings. His memories of the place where not the best.

“Back to Scotland,” Andreji confirmed. “To get rid of the old confinements and start something new.”

“In any case, I think you still owe me some answers,” River remarked.

Andreji lifted an eyebrow. “Do I? I thought I had delivered plenty of those tonight…”

“It’s just that with every of your answers, there op up three more questions.”

“In that case, it would be wiser not to give any answers from now on, would it not?” Andreji concluded.

“Not unless you want to get along with your fledgling,” River warned.

Andreji smirked and made an unexpected turn that threw River out of balance.


The End.

Please review!

The Sequel
Chapter 32 and chapter 33 of The Hunt.
Chapter 1

Now you're wondering why there are so many things left unanswered. It's quite simple - there is a second volume.

Embracing a new life on adult fanfiction

I would very much appreciate your opinion on the story or just a short message that you have read & enjoyed it.


Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
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