Bloodborn (43 page)

‘Captain Schenk,’ she cried. ‘Please, must you all go? The fiend’s minions are still at large in the woods. We would fear for our lives alone in this broken house, just four defenceless women.’

Schenk turned, angry at being delayed, and she sidled towards him, hands clasped.

‘Could you not leave at least Templar Holmann,’ she pleaded. ‘who has protected us so well already?’

Ulrika’s skin prickled at the words, fearing the countess’s true reason for wanting Holmann to stay behind, and she silently prayed to Ursun for Schenk to deny her request.

‘Very well,’ said Schenk. ‘He will escort you to the city. I will find you again there.’ And with that he strode out into the hallway and away with his men behind them, one of them gathering up the Strigoi’s head.

As soon as they were gone, Hermione and Famke let out sighs of relief, while Gabriella sagged and stumbled to a chair, clutching her side.

Ulrika gasped and hurried to her. ‘Mistress, are you so badly hurt?’

‘I will recover,’ said Gabriella, easing back in the chair. ‘But there is much to be done before that.’ She smiled up at Ulrika. ‘First, you shall take our brave hero upstairs and see to his wounds, and your own. Let him rest in one of the guest rooms and return to me. I would speak with you.’

Ulrika blinked at her, fearing to hope.
See to his wounds?
Did that mean that Gabriella didn’t intend to kill him? Would she trust his vow enough to let him go? Ulrika bowed quickly to her, wanting to be away before she changed her mind. ‘Yes, mistress,’ she said. ‘I will bind his wounds and return.’

She turned and crossed back to Holmann. He was staring at the floor with a pained expression on his face, as he had since he had last spoken. He hadn’t seemed to hear Gabriella. He didn’t seem aware of anything at all.

Ulrika took his arm and led him to the stairs, wondering as she did if any amount of bandaging would heal the wound he had suffered this evening.

Ulrika brought Holmann to a guest room, then found water and needle and thread in what must have been Famke’s room, and clean linen in an armoire. The witch hunter did not complain as she helped him off with his coat and doublet and shirt, nor did he flinch as she washed his wounds and sewed the bigger ones closed but, as she tied off the last thread, he let out a sigh that was more than half a sob.

She looked up, concerned. ‘Have I hurt you, Herr Holmann?’ she asked.

‘More than you can ever know,’ he said.

‘Friedrich–’ she said, but he cut her off.

‘In keeping my vow to you I have foresworn the vow I made to Sigmar,’ he rasped. ‘And the vow I made over my parents’ graves.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I should not have bound you to it. I should have left you behind at the graveyard and gone without you. Forgive me.’

He shook his head. ‘It is I who should ask forgiveness – from my parents, from Sigmar, and from you – for I should not have made the vow.’

‘You were under duress,’ said Ulrika. ‘I put you in an impossible situation. You–’

‘No,’ he said, his voice rising. ‘You don’t understand. I made the vow without intending to keep it! I meant to betray you!’

Ulrika stared at him, shocked. She hadn’t suspected it, even for a second.

‘A vow made to a monster is not binding,’ he continued. ‘It is not dishonourable to cheat a fiend. Indeed, it is policy.’

‘But… but you didn’t betray me,’ said Ulrika.

Holmann hung his head. His voice, when it came, was rough and broken. ‘Because… you are not a monster.’

Emotion constricted Ulrika’s throat. ‘Friedrich…’

‘Even as we fought the Strigoi, I was planning to finish your mistress and the others,’ he said. ‘And you as well. Your betrayal on the road had hardened me to it. But–’ He swallowed, then went on. ‘But then you returned my sword to me.’

Ulrika frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘After you beheaded the Strigoi,’ said Holmann. ‘I saw it in your eyes that you were contemplating killing me, but you did not, though I could not have stopped you if you’d tried. You told me to go, though you would have faced the wrath of the others for doing so. A fiend would not have done these things, and so…’

‘And so you kept the vow you meant to break,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘And broke the vows I thought I would keep forever.’ He closed his eyes. ‘And because of that, I cannot go back. I can no longer be a witch hunter. I… I will have to go somewhere – somewhere out of the Empire.’

Ulrika’s chest tightened unbearably. ‘Herr Holmann, don’t say that!’ she pleaded. ‘You did a great thing here this night – a thing any templar would be proud to have done. You helped slay an evil horror that had abducted and killed countless innocents. You are still good. You can still be the man you were!’

‘I killed the man I was!’ Holmann cried. ‘I broke my vow to my god! I lied to Captain Schenk! I protected you and your mistress against Sigmar’s law!’

‘But surely the good you did counter-balances that!’ insisted Ulrika. ‘Surely one tiny slip cannot wipe out a whole lifetime of valour!’

Holmann hung his head, his jaw tight. ‘The Templars of Sigmar recognise no spectrum of morality. Evil is evil, and good is good. An ocean of good with but a single drop of evil in it is evil, and must be destroyed. If I–’ He faltered, closing his eyes. ‘If I find that I can see such a spectrum, then I can no longer be a templar, no matter that I cannot imagine being anything else.’

Ulrika stared at him, wanting to shout at him, wanting to beat him until he saw sense. He was a better, smarter man than Schenk or any of the other witch hunters she had ever met. He was precisely the sort of man who should be a templar, and he was running from it. She wanted to slap him. But no, it was really herself she wanted to slap and beat. It was she who had done this to him. She had put the worm of doubt in his mind. She had made his eyes, which had before seen only in black and white, suddenly see in shades of grey. She had, because of a fondness for him she would never have acted upon, and her foolish, misguided mercy, destroyed his life and his image of himself. She felt like some giant child who breaks her toys without realising her strength. She would have been more merciful if she had killed him when first they had met.

She stood suddenly, her face feeling as hard as stone. ‘Rest,’ she said. ‘I must go to her.’ Then she swept out of the room without waiting for him to reply.

The morning room was empty when Ulrika returned to it. Curtains had been drawn over the shattered windows, but the sun was streaming through the broken doors and the room was too light for a vampire to stay in. She followed the muffled sound of raised voices to an adjacent room, much darker, which revealed itself to be a music room, with a harpsichord in one corner and a harp in another.

Mathilda had returned, and found clothes, and she and Gabriella and Hermione stood in three corners of the room, looking as if they might start another battle at any moment, while Famke cowered in a chair to one side and watched with nervous eyes.

‘Y’tried t’kill us!’ Mathilda was shouting at Hermione. ‘Y’ordered my death!’

‘I was tricked!’ cried Hermione. ‘That vile conspirator Otilia whispered poison in my ear!’

‘Well, y’needn’t have listened!’

‘Sisters, please,’ said Gabriella, holding up her hands. ‘Let us leave the past to the past. We know who the real killers were now, and how cunning their plan was – to turn us against each other and expose us to all of Nuln. What we still must discover is why they did it, and who was behind it. I refuse to believe that addle-pated monstrosity was anything but a sad dupe. He was manipulated as much as any of us. A “voice” told him that our blood would restore him?’ she raised an eyebrow. ‘So who was the voice? Who would benefit from our destruction?’

‘I fear there is a more pressing question, sister,’ said Hermione, stepping to a chair and sinking into it.

Gabriella raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh?’

‘Schenk,’ said Hermione. ‘You may have cooled his suspicions for the moment, but he will not be appeased for long. Even if he doesn’t attack, he will always have an eye turned towards us. It will be impossible to operate.’

Gabriella nodded, her brow furrowed. ‘You are right, sister. I fear it may be time to bid farewell to our current incarnations and find new guises under which to live.’ She looked around. ‘Perhaps we should all die here after all, savaged by ghouls.’

As the three Lahmians began to discuss the merits of this plan, Ulrika felt a hand on her arm and turned. Famke was standing beside her, a look of concern on her beautiful face.

‘You look troubled, sister,’ she murmured. ‘Has the man hurt you?’

Ulrika turned her head to hide the pain that twisted her face at the girl’s words. ‘No, sister,’ she said. ‘I have hurt the man.’

Famke stroked her shoulder. ‘Well, he most likely deserved it. They all do.’

‘Not this one, I fear,’ said Ulrika. She pressed Famke’s hand and smiled at her. ‘But thank you for your concern.’

Famke grinned shyly. ‘I am just glad that we all seem to be on the same side again. Perhaps we will see more of each other now.’

‘I hope so,’ said Ulrika.

She turned back to the three sisters as Gabriella’s voice rose again.

‘Then it’s decided,’ she was saying. ‘We will make our demise here, then wait in hiding while we consult with the queen as to our new places.’

Hermione sighed, looking around. ‘I wish it weren’t so. I have put so much into this place.’

Gabriella smiled. ‘There will be new places, and new opportunities to decorate.’ She stood as Hermione laughed. ‘I will return in a moment to help with the preparations, but I have a few things I must attend to first.’ She curtseyed, then limped towards Ulrika.

Ulrika hurried forwards and lent her her arm, and supported her out of the room.

‘How badly are you hurt, mistress?’ asked Ulrika as they entered the demolished morning room.

‘Broken ribs,’ said Gabriella, wincing. ‘Broken leg. It matters not. All will be well when I feed.’ She stopped as they reached the bottom of the stair and turned to Ulrika, looking grave. ‘But first, I must speak with you, and I believe you know the subject.’

Ulrika froze, her chest tightening with dread. ‘Templar Holmann?’

Gabriella nodded. ‘You have two options,’ she said. ‘Bleed him and make him your swain, or kill him. I leave the choice to you.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHILDHOOD’S END

Ulrika lowered her eyes. She could not meet Gabriella’s gaze. ‘I choose neither,’ she said. ‘I want to let him go.’

‘I’m sorry, beloved,’ said Gabriella quietly. ‘But that you cannot do.’

‘But why not?’ Ulrika asked, her voice rising. ‘Did he not save your life and mine? Did he not honour his pledge? He lied to Schenk and broke his vow to his god rather than break it!’

‘I know,’ Gabriella replied. ‘And it nearly killed him. A man so tortured will not long remain silent. His anguish will break him and he will speak, and we will be exposed.’

‘He won’t speak,’ said Ulrika. ‘He told me. He is going to go away. He will no longer be a witch hunter. I… cured him of that. He means to leave the Empire.’

Gabriella shook her head. ‘It is still too great a risk. He might change his mind.’

Ulrika stepped back, struggling not to shout. ‘But, but what does that matter? We are going to vanish, are we not? Did you not just agree with Hermione that we would pretend to die here and find new identities? What does it matter what he says?’

‘Because no one must know we were vampires even after our “death”,’ said Gabriella patiently. ‘Nuln and the world must think that there was only ever one vampire – a huge, hideous monster that preyed on innocent women. The suspicion that some of those women were also creatures of the night must fade so that we may live in peace when we enter our new roles. We cannot have Templar Holmann speaking of dead Lahmians, because we want the world to believe that there are no Lahmians at all.’

‘Mistress, please,’ Ulrika begged. ‘I know you for a good and honourable woman. How can you not deal fairly with him when he has dealt more than fairly with us?’

Gabriella raised her chin. ‘I am as good and honourable as it is within my power to be. And I deal as fairly as is possible with the living. But I must protect myself and my kind first, and when it is a choice between the death of a vampire and the death of a man, who do you suggest I allow to die?’