Blood Red (9781101637890) (13 page)

They all knew each other, and greeted each other with varying degrees of warmth; some effusive, some cool and calm, which only made sense. Not even all the people in the Schwarzwald Bruderschaft
liked
each other; there were some cases where people merely tolerated each other. But not all of them lived in the Lodge as Gunther and Rosa did. The Schwarzwald was very large, and those who did not get along with the others lived in their hometowns and villages, either with their families or by themselves—or out in forester cottages completely alone.

As Rosa watched the guests arrive, it occurred to her that the Graf was very lucky he had enough people in his White Lodge that liked each other well enough to supply such a big party as this one was.

It was grand that everyone here got along well enough to spend several days together. Those who did not get along in the Bruderschaft tolerated each other just long enough to gather for a Hunt and immediately departed—which tended to be just as well. It wasn't only
old
men and women either.

Of course, not everyone who chose to live outside the Lodge was someone who didn't care for his fellows. Perhaps once it had been possible to physically fit everyone in the Bruderschaft into the Lodge comfortably, but that was no longer the case. You would need a palace as big as the Graf's to do it now.

Rosa's morning and afternoon were spent in engaging in commonplace pleasantries with the others—where was she from, who were her parents, how long had she known of her powers. The children of the group were watched over by a nursemaid, and the Graf had seen to it that there were plenty of things for them to do. The laughter of happy children sounded over the grass—and they were far enough away from the adults that the
shrieks
of happy children merely made people smile rather than wince.

This was something she had never actually experienced before: an
extended
party. There had been parties and celebrations in her life of course, and many of them; the Bruderschaft was not a dour, grim lot. Christmas and New Year's Day were the most prominent times to celebrate, but there were plenty of other occasions for a feast or a cake, and
everyone
went to the villages for Oktoberfest and Maifest. But there was always a sense of
we must pack as much into this hour, this afternoon, this day as possible.
This was leisurely. The party had just begun, and there would be several more days in which to enjoy themselves.

Rosa found herself the object of attention from several young men; Fritz and Rudolf, and some of the students, artists and musicians. This was extremely flattering and, she found, very pleasant. None of these fellows were (as yet) intimidated by her despite her reputation, as her friends her own age were, probably because none of them had ever seen her at work, as the young men of the Bruderschaft had. All this might change the more they learned about her, but for now, she was going to enjoy being treated as—well—a
girl
.

Luncheon was alfresco in the garden. The afternoon was spent in croquet and tennis; Rosa had never played either, and was not sure enough of the rules to attempt tennis, but the croquet was a great deal of fun, since everyone played a friendly-but-cutthroat game, frequently sending balls flying out into the hedges and flower beds. The older children were allowed to join, and the best game of the afternoon for Rosa was one where she was partnered with a bright young girl with Water talent who reminded her a great deal of herself.

“My mother thinks a girl shouldn't go to university, but I am going,” Hedwig said boldly. “They are giving girls degrees now! I want to study science so I can understand Water Magic better.”

Rosa did not insult the child by warning her she must never talk of her powers in public. At her age, especially living so closely with those who knew nothing of magic, that would be second nature to her. “If I were to be able to do it over again, I would do the same,” she told the child. “My father is a schoolmaster, so he taught me everything the boys learned, but I would like to know more about science. Our powers have rules and logic, and the better you know how to discover the rules, the easier it is to do as much as you can with what the Good God has given you.”

Young Hedwig beamed, and Rosa continued to encourage her—and made sure to let her know it was all right to say “Fraulein Rosamund said . . .”

She changed for dinner actually looking forward to it, whereas this morning she had been nervous and apprehensive. Marie came to help her, and put up her hair with a feather and bead ornament. “The rest of the servants say you are quite the toast of the party,” the maid observed, then reached for a rabbit's foot and a little box on the dressing table, and to Rosa's astonishment, brushed powder on her face. Oh, she knew all about cosmetics from the advertisements in Mutti's magazines but she had never, ever used them before. Marie paused at the startled expression she must have been wearing. “Would you rather I did not—”

“Well . . . I suppose I had rather you taught me how,” Rosa said after a moment. “I mean, I believe even the grandest ladies do this for themselves.”

“So they do, and I knew you never had, since the cosmetics had gone unused,” the maid replied. “Here, turn toward the mirror, and watch.”

Rosa watched studiously, as the maid applied powder and added a little flush to her cheeks, a touch of red to her lips, darkened her lids a little, and lined her eyes. “Do I
need
to do this?” she wondered aloud.

The maid considered that. “Not here. But in some circles you might stand out if you do not, at least for dinner.”

She could hardly recognize herself in the mirror. She thought she looked like some sort of creature from a tapestry or ancient mural. Marie seemed quite pleased with her handiwork, and Rosa didn't blame her.

“I am a work of art,” she declared, “And you are as much an artist as any of the guests who call themselves as much.”

Marie flushed with pleasure. “Thank you, my lady. May I say it is a positive pleasure to help you.”

“You are making things that are very difficult, and foreign to me, ever so much easier.” A thought occurred to her that made her frown. “Marie, now that your mistress is gone, what happens to you? You won't be dismissed—” A vague idea crossed her mind of hiring Marie herself. Though what she was to use for Marie's wages—and what she was to
do
with her at the Lodge was a real problem.

But Marie only laughed. “Oh, I am in the Count's employ, my lady. I serve all his . . . companions. He does not trust the maids they might bring with them; really, how could he, considering what sort of household this is? I shall remain in his employ as long as he is the head of this household, and when his nephew inherits, I shall become the lady's maid to his wife when he takes one. Do not concern yourself for me! Seldom has there been a maid with a more secure position than mine.”

Rosa breathed a sigh of relief. She should have known better, really.

“If I have a complaint, it is that I wish that the Count would find a proper
bride
for himself—” she shook her head. “I am very weary of serving spoiled and pampered fool after spoiled and pampered fool, not one of whom has the sense to see what a paragon our Master is.” She gave Rosa a speculative look. “I don't suppose you—”

Rosa was scarcely the sort of girl who lived on romantic novels and was appalled at the idea of marrying a man old enough to be her grandfather. Heavens, Madame Giselle had probably been not much older than Rosa herself. Good marriages, especially in magic circles, were made between old men and young girls—and less commonly, old women and young men. But that was not why Rosa shook her head. “I'm sorry, Marie. First, I do not think the Count has any liking for the settled life. And second, what I do is decidedly not suited for the settled life.”

Marie made a little face. “I cannot see why a woman would risk her life as you do. I could not do it,” she declared. “Not for any amount of money or fame or—”

“But that is not why I do it, Marie,” Rosa exclaimed. “I do it because it is something I must do, like the great old knights of the stories!
Noblesse oblige,
as they said in the ancient days.”

“Well, I don't understand that,” Marie replied after a moment. “But there it is, then.”

The gong sounded for dinner, and Marie made a little shooing motion with her hands. Rosa turned with a care for her finery, and left the bedroom, relieved that Marie would be cared for, but wondering just what Marie
really
thought of her.

T
HERE
was a new guest at dinner, a dark young man, ill at ease in a formal suit, who the Graf placed next to her at the table. The wonderful aromas wafting from the dishes on the sideboard were very distracting, but not so distracting as another handsome young man.

“I don't believe that I know you, sir,” she said, as the manservants came around with the soup. She nodded at the fellow to indicate she accepted the soup, as she saw others doing.

“That is because I only just arrived,” the young man replied, his hand twitching a little as if he would have liked to loosen his collar. She recognized his accent with a start as Hungarian. It seemed an age since she had last heard Hungarian, and yet it could only have been two or three weeks. “I came to make a request of the Count, but as I come from a remote region, I left more than a week ago and had not been able to communicate with him once I had his permission to visit. I gather that was before he called this gathering. I have been forced to borrow this clothing.”

“Mine is equally purloined,” she whispered in a conspiratorial manner, making him smile. There was something about this young man she liked immediately, although she did not know why. There was a faint sense of Earth Magic about him, but there was something else too, much stronger, that she couldn't identify. Whatever it was, the magic was actually part of him, the way it was part of an Elemental.

“I have no idea why the Count wanted me here tonight,” the fellow continued, looking perplexed, as he accepted a modest portion of the soup. “I do not usually take part in entertainments like this. They are not what I am accustomed to. A good, big wedding perhaps, or a harvest fair would suit me better. I have never even worn a suit like this one before.” He looked about to see which spoon the others were using before taking one up. “I am glad to be among friends, else I would surely be a laughingstock.”

“I, too, am more accustomed to bratwurst and beer in a
bierhalle
at Oktoberfest,” she agreed. He shared a relieved smile, and when the farmer on the other side of her said, “I would not turn down a good plate of sauerkraut and wurst right now,” all three of them laughed.

The Graf must have had the sharpest ears in the world, for he spoke up from the head of the table. “Be content, my friends. I think you will enjoy this dinner, even if you are not accustomed to this sort of dining, and tomorrow dinner will be good, hearty fare and we will have our own little
bierhalle
. Complete with brass band! My people have a fine little band, and have consented to play for us all.”

The farmer and the stranger both brightened considerably, and the three of them happily discussed peasant festivals they had attended in the past, joined not only by the
Landsknecht
who looked as ill at ease in his suit as the stranger, but by the musicians and artists. Rosa had the sense that the same sort of conversation was going on all around the table, but she could only hear those nearest her.

It did seem strange to be eating asparagus and duck cutlets and other delicacies while discussing the merits of the gallop over the polka, and the charms of sausages, beer, and various rustic cheeses.

When the dinner was over, they all adjourned to the music room to listen to the performances of three of the guests—a remarkable pianist, a violinist, and a soprano who sang so beautifully it brought tears to Rosa's eyes. By that point, Rosa considered the latest arrival to be her new friend. They had been properly introduced, they seemed to have a great deal in common, and she knew his name was Markos.

“Markos Nazh,” he said, which she knew was the proper pronunciation of what was spelled “Nagy,” and literally meant, “the Great.” He blushed when he said it, and she laughed.

“Do not take blame upon yourself for the
hubris
of your ancestors,” she teased as they made their way to the music room. The new gown flowed around her in a delightful manner, soft and luxurious, making her feel unexpectedly pretty. She really was not used to thinking of herself in those terms, nor to trading banter with young men that was not identical to the sort she would have if they were her brothers. Was this “flirting”? If so, it was very exciting!

“My ancestors were not known for modesty,” he replied, blushing still harder. “Bloodthirsty, yes. Hunters of
vampir
and other deadly things, so I suppose that both the pride and the bloodthirst are excusable.”

“And you?” she asked, as they entered the room, and looked for empty chairs. The room itself was gorgeous, like the inside of a jewelry box, all gold and velvet and polished wood. A piano, some music stands, and chairs were arranged at the head of the room, with velvet drapes closed over the windows behind them and a huge harp pushed to one side.

“I would like to think I have the accomplishment without the overweening pride, though it is nothing to yours.” They were taking their seats for the impromptu concert by that time, and it seemed rude to continue conversing, since the musicians were taking their places. Rosa did not often get to hear music, not even of the sort that the musicians in the villages played, and she settled herself to make the most of the opportunity, focusing all of her attention on the musicians.

And after the concert, they all retreated to a comfortable room, neither too big nor too small, too imposing nor too plain. There were comfortable chairs and settees with side tables scattered about the area, and servants kept them all supplied with things to drink. Rosa noticed that, while no one was abstemious, no one was getting tipsy either. This wasn't a room she had been in before, but it overlooked some of the gardens and the windows were open to a pleasant breeze. One of the professors and two of his students claimed her company before she could resume her conversation with Markos, and she realized that as the “prize” guest, she needed to spread her attention about. So with regret, she left Markos talking to the Graf and Gunther, and discussed Romanian customs—or at least the little she had seen—with the learned man and his protégés.

The servants came around again with drinks; Rosa was glad she had a good head for alcohol—which rather came with being German, she supposed, since beer was served at every meal but breakfast. “I prefer the Count's affairs to any other,” said Professor von Endenberg, with a sherry in one hand, as his pupils invited her to sit with them. “One is not required to retire with the other men to the billiard room for cigars and port after his formal dinners. I dislike cigars, I have no taste for port and I am bad at billiards.”

“Is that what one does?” she asked, taking that proffered seat and settling back into the cushions of the sofa. “This is a new world to me. I have lived in the Schwarzwald for most of my life. I have never been at an affair such as this.”

“Are you likely to be again?” the professor asked, looking alert, as if she had greatly increased his interest in her.

“The Graf seems to think so,” she replied, and shrugged helplessly. “I am feeling very much the fish out of water.”

“And I shall be happy to place you back in water.” He all but rubbed his hands together in glee. “You have unearthed my private hobby, my dear young woman. I have been studying Society as if it was a foreign culture for quite some time now—though I dare not write up my findings, or I might just discover I have incurred the wrath of people who could make my position at the university very uncomfortable!”

“If this is no imposition—” she began.

“On the contrary! You give me an audience!”

The professor was now aware of her background, and shortly she learned just how happy he was to explain to her what a “dinner” entailed in any other establishment than this one—and everything else he could think of as well.

The professor had not exaggerated, for he proved to be the embodiment of everything she could have asked when it came to explaining how the Great and Wealthy did things—and why. This was a gentleman whose entire life was composed of studying, explaining, and understanding customs—and for her benefit he utilized all his expertise to analyze the customs of Society, and explain them to
her,
with the eager assistance of his pupils. She could not possibly have imagined a better education in the lives of the “upper crust.”

The Graf and Marie had been a great deal of help in getting her started, and she already had an outsider's knowledge of Society, gleaned from her mother's magazines, romantic novels, and the newspapers—but she did not have the knowledge of Society from the inside. The professor and two of his noble pupils
did.

She listened intently, mentally filing it all away with the other information she had, and rewarded him afterward with a minute description of the
vampir
she had destroyed in Romania, and how he had differed from other
vampir
she and the Bruderschaft had hunted in Germany.

“Chiefly in his nest,” she said. “The one in Romania hunted to kill, and kept only the women he had brought with him. He ranged widely and alone. I am not sure what the women were preying on—animals perhaps, but more likely, minor Elementals. The
vampir
who had settled in the Schwarzwald stuck close to his nest, and rarely missed a chance to convert a girl to one of his consorts. The only time he did not, it was because he was interrupted in feeding.”

“Were you ever able to save those girls?” one of the students asked, looking a bit disturbed. “The ones that the
vampir
didn't slay outright, I mean.”

“If he had not made them drink of his blood, yes,” she said, but it was with a frown. “The problem is making them understand that once they have been prey to a
vampir,
they can be called by any other, and the call is very seductive, like the call of the drug to an opium fiend.” She thought it was not a good idea to tell these respectable gentlemen
why
this was so. That the call, and being fed upon, was quite
literally
seductive and literally addictive.
Vampir
magic—whatever it was—persuaded the women that the
vampir
was the best lover they had ever had, and after that, human lovers failed to satisfy. Formidable as her reputation was, she didn't think it would be enhanced by describing such a thing to these men. To the Graf, to Gunther, there was no question that she could speak the truth, and they would not think the worse of her for being so bold, even crude. But for these gentlemen—better the information come from another gentleman.

“What on earth sort of magic
is
that?” the professor wondered.

“I am not certain it is magic at all, at least not of a sort that I can recognize,” she had to say. “While the Romanian
vampir
did have strong traces of blood magic about him, the German ones did not.”

“Perhaps it is a psychical resonance?” suggested one of the students. “Some special power of the mind.”

That triggered a discussion of powers of the mind that was entirely new to her—she had never been aware there
were
such things until now—that she listened to, rapt with attention, drink forgotten in her hand, until she found herself fighting off yawns. Looking around, she realized several of the guests had already excused themselves and presumably sought their beds.

As soon as an opportunity presented itself, she did that herself, made her goodnights to Gunther and the Graf, and went off to her room. She considered saying goodnight to Markos, but he was deep in conversation with the artists and the singer, so she didn't want to interrupt him.

She had chosen a moment to leave when the rest of the guests had either already gotten to their rooms, or were still deep in conversation. The vast building was curiously silent and mostly dark. During the day there was always work to be done, and always servants doing it, for the Graf believed in the saying “many hands make light work,” and preferred that his staff have enough leisure to keep what magical abilities they possessed sharp as well as attending to their duties. Most of the staff had already gone to bed, and those that were still awake and serving would not be required to rise at dawn. As a consequence, the enormous manor seemed unpopulated, with only the few lamps showing the way to the guest rooms providing pools of dim light. She could have been wandering the rooms of the palace of the Sleeping Beauty in the old fairy tale.

She realized, as she reached her room and found her bed turned down and waiting, that she was both exhausted and elated.

For a moment, she could not imagine
why
she should be exhausted, until she realized she had been thinking harder tonight than she had in a very long time. Thinking was exceptionally hard work, harder than most people who got by on very little thinking realized.

As to why she was elated—well, that was easy. Although she liked almost all of the Bruderschaft, and loved many, not even her beloved Papa was intellectually challenging. Tonight she had been among people who were her equal or superior in intelligence. She'd had the most intellectually stimulating discussions tonight that she'd ever experienced.

As she stood there, just inside the door to her room, Marie appeared as if she had been magically summoned. That might have been mysterious, or given rise to suspicion that the maid was somehow spying on Rosa, but now that Rosa knew Marie was also an Elemental Mage, that ability to merely appear when wanted was no mystery. The maid could even have been napping on the settee in the sitting room, but the moment she sensed Rosa's powerful Earth energies nearby, she'd have awakened.

Marie stood beside the dressing table, and Rosa moved to her, and into the pool of warm light created by the lamp that stood beside the mirror. “I trust the evening was fruitful, my lady?” the maid asked, as she removed the hair ornament and helped Rosa out of the dress, leaving her in her shift, then helping her into a confection of a dressing gown made of silk lace.