The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith (18 page)

Cesare floated toward the Tower, followed at some distance by Flay. He
had been deeply troubled by the pathetic showing of the king in
council. Cesare had to guard against the doddering old relic's natural
tendency to panic and call the clan at the first sign of trouble. A clan
gathering was not in Cesare's plans at the moment because he could
never be sure which direction the mob would jump. Cesare preferred to
rule by whispers in the king's ear.

In addition, a clan gathering might draw his brother, Gareth, into
the game. Gareth was a terrible wild card who would have to be eliminated at some point. Destroying him required the most careful preparation given that his older brother was the rightful heir and that vampires, being creatures of time, loved nothing so much as tradition in
their governance. Cesare would certainly finish his brother and rule the
clan after feeble Dmitri, but it would take skill. And he wanted time
to relish it all.

Nearer to hand, Cesare already had a plan to turn the Bordeaux massacre to his advantage. He had heard tales of Senator Clark, a man who
had turned one battlefield victory into a reputation as a "vampire killer."
Now the human had a reputation to preserve. Clark was no doubt
deluded enough to think that humans could defeat vampires. Stupid,
yes. But dangerous. For all the excuses that Bordeaux was a pathetic
clutch of ferals, the sudden and brutal success of the human forces
caused Cesare to worry. There would be no taking the humans by sur prise like the Great Killing. This was a delicate matter, and men like
Clark were enemies of delicacy.

Cesare and Flay settled onto the crumbling stone roof of the central
tower and went down the dank steps to find the princess huddled near a
glowing brazier. She didn't glance up. Her clothes were dirty and beginning to show prison wear. Plus her hair was in danger of becoming a
great tangled hive despite her best efforts.

"Princess," Cesare said quietly, "I fear there is bad news."

Adele kept her eyes locked on the glowing coals.

The vampire prince continued, "Your beloved fiance has killed several hundred of my brethren. Without provocation or reason."

Now Adele did look up with real interest, and a smile.

It infuriated Cesare. "Yes. How proud you must be. Your brave Senator Clark massacred the poor population of Bordeaux. Women and children included. And humans. Hundreds slaughtered. It is a frightful outrage, and all the clans have justifiably taken great umbrage."

Adele remained stoic.

Cesare said, "There is, of course, no hope of releasing you now.
Unless you can provide me with some useful information with which to
distract the clans from their bloodlust for revenge."

The princess returned her eyes to the fire.

"Tell me about your spies in Britain," Cesare repeated for what
seemed like the thousandth time.

There was, again, no reply.

The vampire moved closer, letting his iron-laden breath wash over the
woman. "Your people obviously have no regard for your welfare. Why
should I keep you alive if they are going to start a war against us anyway?
You afford us no protection. Tell me about your spies in Britain."

Silence.

"I'm wasting my time with negotiations for peace. Your people have
no interest in peace. I should just prepare for war."

Silence.

"I should just kill you. Your brother is dead. And after I assassinate
your father, your people will fall apart."

Silence.

"Is that what you want? The end of your kind? Your silence will
cause it. Tell me what I want to know and you can go home to keep your
people safe. It's just that simple! Talk or your people will all die!"

Silence.

Cesare drew back his clawed hand with a guttural roar.

The blow did not fall. A figure appeared over Adele, grasping
Cesare's wrist with a firm hand. The tall vampire then released Cesare,
who staggered back a few steps.

Adele stared up at the newcomer. He was dressed in a long black
frock coat over a white shirt and black trousers. Long-limbed yet powerful, with long supple fingers. His hair was dark and a bit unkempt,
unlike Cesare's close cut. His pale, icy blue eyes darted quickly and
intelligently about the chamber, piercing Adele for a long moment
before slipping away. His face was strong and his lips curled into a slight
wan smile, which seemed unusual.

The new vampire's sudden appearance changed the emotion of the
room. Flay stood transfixed. And Cesare was angry, but not playacting
this time; he was truly furious. But more, he was surprised and confused
because he was no longer in total control, like a vicious animal suddenly
finding itself in a cage for the first time.

Cesare glared at the new arrival. "How dare you lay hands on me!"

The tall, dark vampire gave a slight bow. His movements were spare
and reserved. "I apologize, Cesare, but I was afraid you were going to kill
her."

"What's it to you, Gareth?"

"Everything. She is my prisoner now."

"I'm sorry?" Cesare stared with narrowing eyes as his jaw worked
back and forth.

"I am the heir. I claim her. In fact, I feel that I've neglected clan
affairs too long now. I intend to take a greater interest. If you will excuse
me, I wish to interrogate my prisoner."

Cesare brushed the sleeves of his coat roughly and raised his eyebrows. He turned and left without another word or gesture. Flay paused
at the door, looking at Gareth with a gaze that caught Adele's attention.
Then the war chief followed her master.

Gareth waited, listening to the sounds of his brother's exit that weren't
audible to Adele. Then he studied the princess for a long moment.

Adele stared at Gareth. Something about him seemed familiar, but
she didn't know why. She had never encountered a living vampire before
this voyage, but now she'd seen far too many to suit her. Maybe they
were all starting to look alike to her.

The vampire bowed slightly. "I am Prince Gareth, Lord of Scotland.
Are you well?"

Adele almost responded, but then shut her mouth and turned back
to the brazier. Gareth waited for a long minute before realizing no reply
was coming. He exhaled in disappointment. "Very well. I will have you
moved to more comfortable quarters. You are under my care now. Cesare
won't trouble you again."

Adele assumed this was just some interrogation ploy. One brother
treats her harshly. The other brother steps in to treat her kindly. In gratitude for the respite she breaks down. She found herself eyeing Gareth
surreptitiously as the vampire turned away and disappeared through the
door.

The young woman didn't move for several minutes. It was typical
for Cesare to leave and then abruptly return to throw her off. But clearly
Gareth wasn't coming back. Adele stood and went to the window. A few
shadows flitted across the cloudy sky in the distance. Just another night
in dead London.

She dug her fingers into a niche in the stone wall and pulled out a
thin length of rock about six inches by three. The edges were sharp. She
tested it with her thumb. Not sharp enough yet. The young woman sat
on the floor and spat on the stone, working the edge of the makeshift
knife patiently across a whetstone placed on the floor.

Now she had another vampire lordling to kill.

UST AS PRINCE Gareth had promised, Adele was moved to
better quarters away from the treacherously decrepit central tower
with its vast open spaces that invited stinking breezes from the river.
The new rooms had ancient but serviceable coal heaters. There was furniture to keep her aching body off the cold stones, but the bed was so ill
used and foul that Adele contented herself with using the cleanest of the
blankets and sleeping on the floor near the warm grate of the heater.
While bugs and rats were still constant companions, her existence was
made gentler by the fact that Cesare's frightening and debilitating interrogations stopped.

Over the course of the first week, Gareth came once to check on
Adele's comfort and haunted the chambers, inspecting her accoutrements, seemingly eager for gratitude or conversation. She refused to
acknowledge him when he asked about her welfare. He contented himself to stare at her in a fashion that unnerved her, neither aggressive nor
angry, but instead unnaturally attentive and curious. There was an
attempt at personal connection in his gaze that frightened Adele and
threatened not her person, but her personality. Even though he never
asked for any sort of political information, he wanted something from
her. She stared hard into the corner until Gareth sighed and departed.

Adele had seen no one since Gareth's visit until the day she spotted
the figure walking across the yard in the direction of her rooms. She
froze in amazement at the window. He was clearly human, a free human.
There were differences in how vampires and humans moved and carried
themselves. Bloodmen usually had a soulless slump, but this man strode
with head up, alert, quick on his feet. He wore his sandy, grey-streaked
hair long and tied in a ponytail behind him and had a beard that was
heavy and unkempt. He was clad in the fashion of an outdoorsman, but
looked more like a scholar forced into the wilderness than a true Ranger
like Greyfriar. All he carried was a rucksack over one shoulder and some
peculiar device dangling from his belt that looked like a combination
sextant and astrolabe.

Vampires crouched along the crumbling slates of the Tower complex
and flitted through the air. Surely they could see the man; he was in
plain view. Yet they didn't react. The presence of the dark fiends
crouching around him concerned the man, because he glanced toward
them frequently as he trod across the yard, but he came all the same,
with his face tense and lined with effort. He was concentrating to the
point of being in pain.

A geomancer. Mamoru had told her that it was possible for people
to master certain arcane arts that let them go unnoticed by vampires.
Even Greyfriar had dismissed them as myths. Incredibly, this man
appeared to be the very thing. So there were spies roaming Britain, just
as Cesare feared. That thought made Adele smile.

When the man looked up at the window and saw Adele, he placed
a finger to his lips to beg her silence before he began to climb the pile
of rubble that crowded the wall. His foot dislodged a stone and it clattered loudly. Several vampires turned, with heads tilted like alert dogs.
Their eyes locked on Adele at the window rather than on the man. He
stayed perfectly still, and the princess felt it was important not to look
at him. The vampires soon turned away with disinterest, and the man
began to climb again, slower and more carefully, testing handholds and
footing before putting his weight behind them.

When he reached a point only a few feet below Adele's window, he
whispered in a smooth Alexandrian accent, "Your Highness, don't speak. Forgive my impertinence, but I can't afford for you to attract attention to
me. My name is Selkirk. Look here quickly and then look away."

Adele glanced down furtively. Selkirk held up one hand to reveal a
tattoo of a sinuous dragon on his palm. Mamoru had a similar tattoo on
his left palm, along with a tiger on his right. Adele felt a great thrill at
the familiar and comforting sight so far from home.

The man said, "Mamoru is my teacher. I am his geomancer here in
Britain."

Adele was confused. Geomancer or not, Mamoru had no students
other than Adele. He was an imperial tutor, exclusively employed by the
court. Maybe this man Selkirk had been Mamoru's geomancy student in
Java. She knew Mamoru took an inordinate interest in that topic. He
had instructed her in some of its rudiments even though she hadn't
really taken to the subject; it seemed a bit vast and distant, sometimes
even silly. Adele always preferred subjects that had a more human
dimension, such as martial arts and ethics.

Selkirk's whisper shook her from her thoughts. "Don't despair. I will
send word to Mamoru that you are alive and well. We will bring you-"