Famke looking at her. The girl was trying to stifle a grin and, failing miserably, her eyes twinkled with silent merriment. Ulrika wanted to feel indignant that the girl was laughing at her, but she couldn’t. She found she was grinning too, and they went into the drawing room shoulder to shoulder, friends in a single instant.
After lamps were lit and the fire built up, Countess Gabriella and Lady Hermione sat near the carved marble hearth on delicate gilded chairs, while Ulrika and Famke waited in attendance behind them, and Rodrik and Hermione’s gentlemen eyed each other sullenly from opposite ends of the room.
‘Well then,’ said Gabriella. ‘Tell me all. How did it start? And where do we stand now?’
‘We stand well equipped to deal with the difficulty ourselves,’ said Hermione coldly.
Gabriella sighed. ‘Sister, I would not have come had I not been so ordered. I do the bidding of the queen. No more. I promise you I will leave when the business is finished. I have no ambitions here. Now, please. The quicker we begin, the quicker I am away again.’
Hermione stared into the fire for a moment, then nodded. ‘Very well. I will tell you. It started a month ago. Lady Rosamund went to the theatre with her lover, a blood-swain named General Steffan von Odintaal, who is one of Countess von Liebwitz’s advisors on military matters and, through Rosamund, one of ours . They parted after the play, he to his club, and she for home.’ Hermione’s hands clasped convulsively. ‘On the way home she was attacked, by what I know not, except that it was strong enough to defeat her and tear her flesh horribly.’
‘There were no witnesses?’ asked Gabriella.
‘None that we could discover,’ said von Zechlin, from the corner of the room.
Gabriella nodded, though her expression made it clear that she doubted Hermione’s champion had looked very hard. ‘Go on,’ she said.
‘Rosamund was found hung from the Deutz Elm in the Reik Platz a few hours before dawn,’ continued Hermione. ‘Her fangs and claws were extended as if she had died in the midst of blood frenzy. Unfortunately she was taken down before daylight and brought to the cellars of the Iron Tower, so she did not burn in the sun. Her face was recognisable, and she was identified.’
‘What followed?’ asked Gabriella.
‘She was very well known,’ said Hermione. ‘One of the premier ladies of Countess von Liebwitz’s court. There was an immediate scandal. The witch hunters arrested the general, her lover.’
Gabriella looked up. ‘Did he talk?’
Hermione shook her head. ‘We have a friend among the jailors. He died of poison before they put him to the question.’
Gabriella looked relieved. ‘And then?’
‘Panic,’ said Hermione. ‘The broadsheets cried the tale. Everyone at court began to suspect everyone else of being a vampire. Ladies took to carrying mirrors and meeting in daylight. And if that wasn’t bad enough, people started vanishing, all over town – rich, poor, all kinds. Vampires were of course blamed.’
‘And were they to blame?’ asked Gabriella. ‘Were these victims bled?’
‘None have been found,’ said Hermione. ‘Though the witch hunters have searched the town from top to bottom.’ She shuddered. ‘It all became so unbearable that I retired to my country place, Mondthaus, and feigned illness.’
‘Did you inform the queen?’
‘Karlotta did,’ said Hermione. She seemed to Ulrika much less the grand lady now, and more just a frightened woman, though still every inch a beauty. ‘After which, she called a meeting at the Silver Lily, Madam Dagmar’s brothel, so that we remaining sisters could confirm her as our new leader, and to discuss what was to be done.’
Gabriella held up a hand. ‘Who are these remaining sisters?’
Hermione looked annoyed that her tale had been interrupted, but then shrugged. ‘Besides myself, there is Lady Alfina, married to a guildmaster, a blood-swain who is our ear in
After lamps were lit and the fire built up, Countess Gabriella and Lady Hermione sat near the carved marble hearth on delicate gilded chairs, while Ulrika and Famke waited in attendance behind them, and Rodrik and Hermione’s gentlemen eyed each other sullenly from opposite ends of the room.
‘Well then,’ said Gabriella. ‘Tell me all. How did it start? And where do we stand now?’
‘We stand well equipped to deal with the difficulty ourselves,’ said Hermione coldly.
Gabriella sighed. ‘Sister, I would not have come had I not been so ordered. I do the bidding of the queen. No more. I promise you I will leave when the business is finished. I have no ambitions here. Now, please. The quicker we begin, the quicker I am away again.’
Hermione stared into the fire for a moment, then nodded. ‘Very well. I will tell you. It started a month ago. Lady Rosamund went to the theatre with her lover, a blood-swain named General Steffan von Odintaal, who is one of Countess von Liebwitz’s advisors on military matters and, through Rosamund, one of ours . They parted after the play, he to his club, and she for home.’ Hermione’s hands clasped convulsively. ‘On the way home she was attacked, by what I know not, except that it was strong enough to defeat her and tear her flesh horribly.’
‘There were no witnesses?’ asked Gabriella.
‘None that we could discover,’ said von Zechlin, from the corner of the room.
Gabriella nodded, though her expression made it clear that she doubted Hermione’s champion had looked very hard. ‘Go on,’ she said.
‘Rosamund was found hung from the Deutz Elm in the Reik Platz a few hours before dawn,’ continued Hermione. ‘Her fangs and claws were extended as if she had died in the midst of blood frenzy. Unfortunately she was taken down before daylight and brought to the cellars of the Iron Tower, so she did not burn in the sun. Her face was recognisable, and she was identified.’
‘What followed?’ asked Gabriella.
‘She was very well known,’ said Hermione. ‘One of the premier ladies of Countess von Liebwitz’s court. There was an immediate scandal. The witch hunters arrested the general, her lover.’
Gabriella looked up. ‘Did he talk?’
Hermione shook her head. ‘We have a friend among the jailors. He died of poison before they put him to the question.’
Gabriella looked relieved. ‘And then?’
‘Panic,’ said Hermione. ‘The broadsheets cried the tale. Everyone at court began to suspect everyone else of being a vampire. Ladies took to carrying mirrors and meeting in daylight. And if that wasn’t bad enough, people started vanishing, all over town – rich, poor, all kinds. Vampires were of course blamed.’
‘And were they to blame?’ asked Gabriella. ‘Were these victims bled?’
‘None have been found,’ said Hermione. ‘Though the witch hunters have searched the town from top to bottom.’ She shuddered. ‘It all became so unbearable that I retired to my country place, Mondthaus, and feigned illness.’
‘Did you inform the queen?’
‘Karlotta did,’ said Hermione. She seemed to Ulrika much less the grand lady now, and more just a frightened woman, though still every inch a beauty. ‘After which, she called a meeting at the Silver Lily, Madam Dagmar’s brothel, so that we remaining sisters could confirm her as our new leader, and to discuss what was to be done.’
Gabriella held up a hand. ‘Who are these remaining sisters?’
Hermione looked annoyed that her tale had been interrupted, but then shrugged. ‘Besides myself, there is Lady Alfina, married to a guildmaster, a blood-swain who is our ear in
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