Page 13 of Man Friday

shook his head. "The first time you saved me. The second time you were saved by Mr. Holt and Aelfraed."

  "All right, so it's more complicated than that, but both times you risked your life to distract our adversary long enough for others to intervene; otherwise, I'd be dead. As for the first time, we could say we saved each other."

  "What else?"

  "You never confronted me about my concerns, not even when I thought I might have to destroy you."

  "I overheard you telling Aelfraed you would not condemn me without proof."

  "But you could have confronted me before that, and you didn't. Had you been a threat, or even just concerned about what I might do, I would've expected you to try to reassure me, or maybe threaten me, but you didn't do either, not even by implication. In fact, your actual attitude dovetails with your earlier statement that I owe you no consideration. It's as if you don't care whether I destroy you or not."

  "I could be lulling you into a false sense of security."

  She flashed a lopsided smile. "Perhaps, but if you wanted to eliminate me you could have done so anytime we were alone, such as that evening on the target range. Or even now."

  "Go on."

  "I haven't found out yet why you were imprisoned in that sarcophagus, though Aelfraed is still looking into it. Do you know?"

  "I know only what Sir Miles knew, and that was very little."

  "Didn't he give the order?"

  "He did, but he was himself only following orders."

  "I don't understand."

  "There is much you still need to learn about your own family, Sir Differel."

  "So? Tell me."

  "I think not. You have not yet made up your mind whether you can trust me; therefore, you would suspect anything I might say."

  "I'm not sure I like this evasiveness." Then she shrugged. "But, no matter. My point was going to be that I find it hard to believe, with all your powers, that anyone could imprison you against your will. I cannot discount the possibility that you were coerced or bound or even incapacitated in some fashion, but...pray, tell me, at least, did you willingly obey Grandfather's order?"

  "Yes, My Master."

  "I thought as much. It fits well with everything else. It's true, I haven't made up my mind yet about whether to trust you, but only up to a point. I hope you would agree with me that trust needs to be earned."

  "Of course, Master."

  "I don't know you well enough yet for that. Maybe, had I grown up with you, it might now be a different situation. However, your attitude and behavior over the past week, cavalier though it may be, has convinced me that, whatever the reason for Grandfather's decision, it was not because you were or had become a threat, and if you're not a threat, there's no reason not to keep you as my servant, or use you as my most powerful weapon."

  Again, he made no response, but his expression had lost its wariness.

  "Besides, if what you told me about those oaths is true, then I should trust you, because there's no way you could ever harm me, even by accident. I've asked Aelfraed to look into that as well, but I'm inclined to believe you. During the fight with the Fomorian you could have held back, even withdrawn and left me to be killed, but you risked your life--twice--to protect me."

  "It was not much of a risk, Master. There are only a few ways I may be destroyed; being ripped apart is not one of them, although it is not a pleasant experience, and I need time to recorporealate."

  "I can imagine, but by your own admission the Fomorian had almost been too strong for you to handle."

  "That is true, Master."

  "And yet you kept attacking her, despite the risk to yourself and the possibility that you might not prevail."

  "Aelfraed and Mr. Holt did the same, and they were more handicapped than I."

  "Perhaps, but I can understand why they did it. What I don't understand is why you would, unless you're telling the truth about your oaths. Come to think of it, why would you even agree to make them in the first place?"

  "During my long life I have had a rare opportunity to observe Humans and the human condition. What I have witnessed has left me with nothing but contempt for your race. I consider the overwhelming vast majority of you to be undeserving of life. You are too mundane, too ordinary; you never strive after those grandiose achievements of Good or Evil that bring meaning and purpose to life. For all that most of you accomplish, you might as well have never lived at all."

  "Then why do you protect my family?"

  "Your race has one saving grace: you all have the ability to achieve greatness, if only you possess the strength and the will. There are individuals among you, rams among the sheep, who epitomize that greatness. One such was Abraham Van Helsing. For centuries, many people had tried to defeat me and failed, until him. Despite my vast power and experience he was on the verge of destroying me forever. In desperation to preserve my life, I offered him my services to protect his life and Bloodline, and he spared me. But it was not that alone which inspired me. I respected and admired him for his accomplishment. I believed he was worthy of my service, and I wished to give him, and his descendants, the opportunity to aspire to more greatness. The oaths were his condition for accepting my service, but I swore to them freely, as they complimented my desire."

  "And I suppose you see that same greatness in me, what?"

  "The one power I lack is augury. I cannot read the future, or the hearts of men. I can only repeat what I told you a week ago: you have the strength and the will to achieve the greatness of your ancestor, or even to surpass it, if you truly wish it."

  "But why would you care?"

  "Before I was Turned, I sought greatness. I wanted to make Wallachia great, I wanted its people to each achieve his or her own greatness, not as a right of birth but as an award for effort. I failed. Afterwards I was forever denied the opportunity to become great in the Human world, though I achieved it among Vampires, so I worked to make my Bloodline great. I failed again. At various times I found men and women who had the potential, and I tried to foster greatness in them. Again, I failed. But Abraham already had greatness; he proved it when he defeated me. I shielded the flame of his greatness and I nurtured it in his son. It may not have burned as brightly, but its light was still strong. But, again, I failed; the grandson could not catch a spark despite my encouragement, and in his weakness he tried to extinguish me."

  "So, you see me as a way to vindicate your worldview."

  "In part, but one aspect of my service is also to encourage members of the Bloodline to strive after greatness. After all, how can you otherwise expect to protect Sovereign, Church, and Country?"

  She gave him a grinning smirk. "You would make a good confidence man, you know that?"

  "Yes, Master, and thank you."

  "Hmph. All right, I think understand what you're trying to say. I don't believe you would be as dedicated to your role if you were simply operating out of self-preservation, or against your will. I will concede that allays my concerns, for the time being. But like you, I reserve the right to reevaluate my opinion in the future."

  "Of course, Master, and let me offer you an additional option to others you might consider. If, at any time, for any reason, you decide that I have become a danger to Sovereign, Church, and Country, you can destroy me by cutting out my heart and cutting off my head."

  She did a mental double-take. "Destroy you?!"

  "I would prefer that, than be imprisoned again."

  She nodded; it made sense. Besides, it wasn't lost on her that he was trying to demonstrate just how trustworthy he was.

  "Very well, I agree that if someday I find I can no longer trust you, I will not condemn you to an eternity in limbo."

  He bowed his head. "Thank you, My Master."

  She unfolded her legs and scooted across the mattress to the edge, where she sat, dangling her legs off the side, and leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. "In the meantime, tell me more about your Dark Arts knowledge, and give me some demonstrations."

>   He raised his head and grinned. "Your wish is my command, Master."

  Early the next morning, Doc LeClerc examined her injuries. Her hand had improved to the point where she was able to flex her fingers and make a fist, but she still couldn't grip with any strength. However, he showed no concern and reiterated that she should be fully recovered in another day or so, as long as she continued to exercise with the stress ball. Afterwards, when she returned to her room to rest, she tried once again to summon the giant sword, but it stubbornly refused to appear. She pretty much decided then and there that she could not command it without its cooperation, and that apparently it would not cooperate unless she was in grave danger.

  A couple of hours later in the meeting room, she and her senior staff contacted Sir Edward Penbryn and gave him a full report on all that had transpired during the past seven days, including her using Vlad to spy on Lord Stadford. The only thing she left out was her ordering him to scan the Baron's mind, which no one else knew about. He wasn't happy about being kept in the dark, but he accepted her reasons. They arranged to have copies of the photos and video of the Fomorian sent to both him and Stadford, along with one of the four vials of ichor LeClerc collected. He in turn informed her that Stevens had discovered his fax machine had been compromised. It contained a device that could not only copy and transmit every fax he sent or received, it could also enslave his machine to send fake faxes to him or other parties while making them look authentic. Though he was reasonably certain the nurse Fomorian had somehow been behind it, he informed her that he had had his machine replaced as a precaution. She wasn't as confident, however, that they had broken the conspiracy.

  After that, she took reports from her people on the state of the repair work needed, the number of casualties, and the need to replace the troops as soon as possible. Of the two platoons assigned to the estate, only nine troops survived. The rest had either been killed, including Lt. Maudine and both platoon sergeants, or were so badly injured they would be given medical discharges once they recovered. Hearing those details virtually tore her guts apart. She wondered if she had let them down. If she had handed the nurse off to the authorities from the beginning, they might have been spared, but what bothered her was the possible destruction the Fomorian could have caused in London. Did she do the right thing, or did her incompetence get a lot of good men killed? She wished she could figure it out.

  Meanwhile, Sir Edward had agreed to make an immediate transfer of a platoon, and promised to petition the Privy Council to increase the Order's strength to a full company. That way there would be plenty of troops to guard both house and estate. Unfortunately, he had nothing to report on how soon the Council committee might make a decision on her fitness.

  Finally she asked Aelfraed, "How are the preparations coming for Mr. Mistoffelees's funeral?"

  "All will be ready for us after lunch, Madam."

  "Very good. Remember, anyone who wishes may attend, but it isn't mandatory."

  He nodded. "I have already explained that to the staff."

  "Then, thank you, everyone. Before we adjourn, I would like to express my appreciation for the loyalty, bravery, and resourcefulness you have all shown since Mandy's attempted coup. If I could, I would decorate and promote you all, but as it is, you'll have to be satisfied with the bonuses you'll find with your paycheques this month.

  "For those who sacrificed their lives in service to Queen and Country, I intend to submit Lt. Maudine's name for a Distinguished Service Order and the rest for Conspicuous Gallantry Crosses, while I'll recommend that the survivors be awarded Distinguished Service Crosses. I hope they are approved, but whether they are or not, I have decided to erect a monument by the waterfall in the garden, upon which will be inscribed the names of everyone killed while serving