Lilah (31 page)

Under their table, I sat on the clay
floor, which was uncomfortably warmed from the
fire close by. Blending into the shadows, I was able to peer through the table
slats to catch glimpses of my friends. They did not sense me there for the
smell of human blood close by seemed to have distracted them. After taking in
their surroundings, they were noisy and ogled the serving girls offering crude
suggestions to appear like other patrons. It seemed the noisier you were in
these places the less suspicion was fuelled. Bread was put on the table also by
the servers but remained uneaten.

It was an hour before another man walked in.
His boots were high and he wore a short, red wool tunic. Several soldiers
accompanied him, and this unsettled many of the patrons. These soldiers were known;
though at the time it was not by face, rather by the coat of arms etched on
their shields. Unlike the strigoi they did not attempt to slip in unnoticed but
perhaps from the arrogance in their master’s stride, offense would have been
taken had he not been. More strangely, he sat at the table of the strigoi.

Short greetings were exchanged with the man
they called Laszlo. The mood of this meeting was sombre. My strigoi siblings
were edgy and guarded and asked that the soldiers wait outside but Laszlo refused,
raising one large hairy eyebrow in amusement. He clicked his fingers and a leg
of mutton and bowl of stinking broth was brought over. The strigoi watched him
with some distaste as he dipped a large chunk of meat in the mixture and ate
it, his jowls working back and forth gnashing at the grisly portion, while fat
dripped down the back of his fingers. He spat some of the meat on the floor and
ordered the serving girl to take away the ‘muck’ they served as food. The owner
glanced across from the bar but looked quickly to other tasks. He had
recognised this man and clearly his avoidance of the situation meant that it
was not in his best interest to ask him to leave.

‘You call me here and then ask my soldiers to
leave like commoners. I do not understand why I could not choose the place to
meet. You have put me at risk of an ambush.’

‘I did not trust you to choose the place.’

There was silence while the two men were face
to face. Then Laszlo threw his head back and laughed: a deep throaty sound that
cut thought the wood smoked, foul air. Though none of the strigoi found this
amusing.

‘I think for such a meeting a neutral place is
the only ground for negotiation,’ said Giorgio.

‘In this stinking hole?
The forest would have been safer,’
said Laszlo now seated.

‘This town has enough vagrants to mask any
meeting.’

‘I agree with you on that at least. This place
is vile.’ There was small conversation on things I did not understand, about
court and royal matters. It seemed Laszlo had travelled far to meet them away from
prying eyes.

Giorgio asked Laszlo what he thought of his
offer. The answer was delayed, somewhat deliberately I thought, while the
newcomer downed a large glass of ale.

‘I’m interested,’ he said. ‘But there are some
conditions.’

Lucretia, another of my friends rose to her
feet. ‘You have no power to make any further demands.’

Laszlo smirked. ‘You don’t think so?’

‘No,’ said Lucretia firmly. ‘We could kill you
right now.’

‘And then where else would you find the power
you seek? I have messengers on the ready if I don’t return. If I die Lewis will
know of your betrayal and your deaths will follow.’

‘You are naught but a human king.’

‘It is not wise to make an enemy of me.’

‘You are no match for the strigoi,’ said
Georgio. ‘I think it is us who hold the better cards.’

‘Possibly, but you have spent years hiding from
humans like cowards, when such might and immortal skills could raise you up to
rule; to be unafraid of who you are. I have tried in various ways – some
unconventional – to persuade Lewis that a better alliance would help us
both so as not to live in fear of ambush from our enemies.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘A while back I bribed some imbeciles with just
a small bag of coin to attack you. I knew I had sealed their deaths, and no
doubt for their stupidity they deserved as much. You successfully diverted them
away from the castle to a decrepit house, which I had no doubt would happen,
but my plan to expose some weaknesses in your security was still not enough for
Lewis to see my way of thinking.’

‘Traitor!’ cried Lucretia.

‘Then what are you, madam, planning your
defection.’

‘Silence,’ said Giorgio looking around him to
see that none from the other tables had heard her words, perhaps fearful also
of strigoi spies. ‘We will listen. I do not want any trouble, Lucretia.’ He
turned back to Laszlo.

‘And the Brodnici attack at the castle…was that
you also?’

Laszlo grinned. ‘No. That was not
me
. But it now makes sense why you approached me. You have
lost complete faith in your leader and feel no longer safe.’

Georgio realised he had lost some of the power
in his bargaining. ‘Tell me what is it that you want?’

‘You know what that is.’

‘But we cannot.’

‘You have one among you who has already turned
to your cause. Jilted by one of your own, this one approached me personally.
She says she knows how the ritual is performed.’

‘You cannot trust the girl you speak of. She
would be no asset to our group.’

‘She came to me for she did not want to return
to her husband to whom she has never been faithful. It is for me that she
serves.’

Lucretia scoffed: ‘
Surely
you can’t be serious. The girl you are talking about does not serve anyone.’

 ‘Leave the girl to me. She is nothing to
me at the end of things. By that stage I will have everything I want.’

‘You should be wise with who
you
trust,
for there are few in this land who favour you.’

There was silence and I feared that such an
insult would no doubt see Laszlo turn over the table and reveal my whereabouts.

Giorgio raised his hand for calm. He was not
one to seek confrontation.

‘The girl you speak of may have the documents
to perform the rite but she cannot make you one of us – she does not have
the old blood.’

‘The older the strigoi the greater chance of
success which is why I need your help Georgio…your blood.’

Georgio paused thoughtfully for a moment.
‘Directly after
the change
will you honour your end of the bargain?’

‘Yes, as soon as you wish it.’

The strigoi here carried weak mind-reading
skills at best, so for several moments Georgio and Nökeg conferred in whispers,
while Laszlo downed another glass of ale and roughly grabbed the breasts of a
serving wench.

‘Then it is agreed,’ said Georgio.

The two leaders shook hands.

‘We will come to you at the next full moon.’

Laszlo stood up. ‘Goodnight, gentlemen and not
so gentle ladies.’

Lucretia stood up also. I did not have to see
her face to picture her anger: teeth gritted and fire in her eyes; she was not
the
most subtle
of strigoi among us. She had a nasty
temper and was fiercely loyal to only a few of her closest friends.

‘I do not trust such human slime. You made it
too easy for him.’

‘Quiet, Lucretia, you will ruin everything with
that mouth of yours. There is no turning back. We have no choice.’

I saw from under the table Nökeg rub his wife’s
leg and whisper reassurances in an attempt to pacify her. This was enough to
seat her once more.

‘We have his word. He would not chance to fool
with the strigoi,’ said Nökeg solemnly.

What I had heard was of great importance and
something I should impart yet I chose not to mention any of this to Lewis and
Lilah. Although their plan sounded sinister, it might also be justifiable. I
had to presume that because Georgio was involved
no-one
would come to harm. Perhaps whatever it was they hid from Lewis would
ultimately be good for those in the coven, and might also mean a chance for me
to be free. But then what is free I wondered. I was trapped in a body that I
did not choose.

‘Claude!’

At first I thought I was mistaken until I heard
the call again from Georgio.

I sheepishly emerged from under the table.

‘Did you really think that we would not know
you are there?’ There was no hostility in his voice but I was unable to find a
response. Nökeg pulled me to sit and the group broke into laughter.

Another strigoi spoke: ‘
We
cannot have this. He will tell.’

‘No,’ said Giorgio, and I saw that Nökeg nodded
in agreement. ‘I sense he is also for our cause – to be released from
Lewis’s rule.’

I nodded my head also for these people had been
my closest friends for some time. I spent more time with them than Lilah who
devoted her time to her studies and to Oleander, and did not seem to have much
time for me. Whatever they were doing I would trust that they were doing right
by everyone.

‘Sit down,’ said Lucretia, in her thick Italian
accent. ‘You are one of us, no?’

I was relieved that I no longer had to hide.
There was a moment of kinship, a kind of acceptance as I was offered some ale.
But I would never truly feel as they did, bound by blood. I was one of them and
yet nothing
like
them.

Lilah

It was with much regret that I had
to leave Oleander, even for a short time, and I asked my witch friends to look
out for her.

In more recent times Lewis had allowed me
exclusive counsel with them and I felt proud of my work in coaching the use of
their skills.

Some of the newly arrived witches were at first
terrified and I was careful with my teaching. Lewis was against the idea of
giving them too much knowledge and the choice to become a strigoi or remain a
witch. He said that without strigoi power this coven would weaken and all must
accept
the change
.

Then, over recent times, with my
encouragement, his overseeing of the practice lessened but still with the rule
that they were never to leave the coven.
He did not trust them to keep our location a
secret. I did not complain of this rule, relieved at least that my witches did
not have to become something they were not born to, content that the castle was
a safe haven, especially for those who had revealed their differences to people
who used Christianity as a cause for persecution.

Lewis had assigned them a wing in the castle
where they were free to commune together. I had created my own library where I
took some of the books on healing so that the witches had easy access to read
them. I did not discourage them from speaking with the strigoi but I had to
remain wary. There were still some whose looks said that we were not welcome.
Most of these newly born strigoi were inclined to be fickle. The elders,
although keeping their distance, seemed not to care about us at all and it was
my argument with Lewis that I did not believe the reborn had the same loyalty
as those strigoi born in centuries past.

Over time this disagreement lessened, and had
such an effect on Lewis that my witches gained more freedom than they would
otherwise have had. In my work chamber, I spent many hours recording my
experiments and writing my thoughts on various events such as what happened to
Arianne and Claude. Both of them had converted differently, their personalities
magnified by strigoi blood. Arianne had been restless as a nun and even more so
in her new body.
While Claude was quiet and intelligent and
thoughtful.
Again, he seemed to advance in intelligence and make
well deliberated
decisions.

We met mostly in the evenings. My days were
often occupied with Oleander. I kept the galley staff busy with their cooking
for the witches, and the large dining room, once covered in dust, was reopened
in the west wing. Several of the witches had chosen
the change
for the
thought of eternal life dazzled them. I did not begrudge Lewis’s interference
or their decisions. I was at least grateful for the opportunity to teach them
what method was expected to sustain their lives, as well as the understanding
that the rite was irreversible. They were unaware of my experiments. Many, like
me, were horrified by the thought of taking human blood, and chose mortality as
the better gift.

However, to my surprise, Lewis refused to
convert the most recent arrival of witches seeking
the change
. I
believed that he had been influenced by my observations of the character flaws
of the reborn and was becoming more intuitive with his choice of candidates. I
thought that in my brief absence, my witches might lose some of my protection
but mostly hopeful that Lewis would, at least, examine them better. That he
would continue to determine those who would make more discerning strigoi and
reject those who would weaken the human race by their rampant lust for blood.