Silver in the Blood (29 page)

“No, it won't,” Dacia said. “But we'll start with that.

“Anyway, then he said that he would sweep away his enemies the way his ancestor Vlad the Third had done, in his own Night Attack.”

Lord Johnny blew out his breath in a whoosh. “He said that?” He reached out and took Dacia's hand again. But this time his grip was tight, as though he was urging her to change her words. “He said that exactly? His own Night Attack?”

Startled, Dacia pulled her hand free. “Yes,” she said. “I'm certain of it. He said it as though I should know what it meant, but I haven't the faintest idea.” She looked from Lord Johnny to Mr. Arkady to Lou, who shook her head in equal bafflement.

Lord Johnny pushed himself away from the table with an oath, and began pacing around the room. He ran his hands through his already unkempt hair and then scrubbed at his face.

“It means that he's attacking tomorrow night,” Mr. Arkady said.

“Tomorrow night?” Lou's voice was barely a squeak. “Are you certain?”

“The Night Attack was one of Vlad Tepes's most famous battles,” Mr. Arkady explained. “My people—the Turks—had attacked Romania and were holding Bucharest and Snagov. Vlad and his men, dressed as Turks, came to their camp in the night and slaughtered thousands of soldiers. Their aim was to kill Sultan Mehmed, but Vlad entered the guards' tent by accident. While he was fighting them, Mehmed escaped.”

Mr. Arkady said this all very drily, with no hint of how he felt that thousands of his people had been slaughtered.

To Dacia's surprise, Lou reached out and gently touched Mr. Arkady's wrist. “How very awful,” she said softly.

Now Dacia saw surprise and a hint of sadness on the young man's face. “It was a long time ago,” he murmured.

“Or, tomorrow night,” Lord Johnny said grimly.

“Why do you say that?” Dacia looked from one to the other. “This Night Attack would have been over four hundred years ago . . . why tomorrow night?”

“Because the Night Attack took place on June 17, 1462,” Mr. Arkady said. “If Mihai is hoping to evoke that, to remind people of his illustrious ancestor, then I have no doubt that he will strike on the anniversary of that night.”

For a long while, they all stood and stared at the map as though it would have the answers they were seeking. Except for Lord Johnny, who continued to pace.

“Very well,” Dacia said when she realized that neither of the gentlemen was going to do anything sensible. “First things first: we need to send a telegram to the palace, to let Their Majesties know that Mihai is planning to attack.”

“They have a telephone there,” Lou pointed out. “We could telephone. It would seem more urgent and convincing.”

“A good idea,” Dacia agreed. “Should you make the call, Lord Johnny? I am perfectly willing to, but if they know about your Society, it would be better for you to do it.”

“Yes, they know about the Society. I'll call,” Lord Johnny said, looking annoyed. Dacia guessed that he was mostly irritated that he hadn't thought of that himself. Men could be that way sometimes. “I'll use the hotel telephone before we leave.”

“Are we going straight to Sinaia?” Dacia thought she might like to stop and pack a bag on their way, and opened her mouth to say so, when Lord Johnny answered her question.

“
We
are. By which I mean Theo and myself,” he said. “We will take you and Miss Neulander home on our way.”

Once again, Dacia opened her mouth to speak, and once again, someone interrupted her. This time it was Lou, but it was still most vexing.

“First of all, you may call me Lou,” Lou said. Then she looked at Mr. Arkady. “You may also call me Lou,” she said in a softer voice, and Dacia started to make a remark, when Lou continued on. “And second, Dacia and I will be going with you.”

“Now, Miss Neu—Lou,” Mr. Arkady said in a reasonable voice. “And please, call me Theo, but you really must understand that this is going to be very dangerous, and—”

Dacia decided that it was her turn to interrupt. “Dangerous? Because
our family
will be there? Isn't that who Mihai will be using as his soldiers? Our cousins, our uncles, our grandmother,
Lou's mother
?”

“Hmm.” Mr. Arkady—Theo, now—seemed rather at a loss. “That is true, but . . .”

“Didn't you just say you needed our help?” Lou put in.

“Er, yes,” Lord Johnny said. “But Dacia, you and Miss . . . Lou have been raised as young ladies, while every other member of your family, including Miss Lou's mother, has been raised to be a fighter.”

“I believe that I have clearly proven some usefulness in this endeavor,” Lou said with a certain amount of asperity.

“Indeed you have,” Theo said warmly. “But I agree with John now: Sinaia will be too dangerous for you. We will find something else for you to do. Here.”

Dacia leaned across the map to stare into the Turkish man's eyes.

“I'd like to see you try to stop us from coming,” she said in a low voice.

He looked startled, but not, Dacia was relieved to see, disgusted or afraid. Instead he seemed to rather appreciate her ferocity and resolve. He looked at Lord Johnny, who gave a faint sigh of resignation.

“I will telephone Their Majesties,” Lord Johnny said. “And some of our colleagues. Then we'll drive to Sinaia.”

“Very well,” Dacia said, inclining her head in a gracious nod. “Shall we order tea in the meantime? I have no idea when we will have another chance to eat.”

She was ravenous, suddenly. And why not? It had been more than a day since she had eaten more than a bite of toast, a mouthful of tea. She felt her stomach start to grumble, and repressed it with stern force of will.

“An excellent idea,” Theo said, smiling at her. “It is the way of the soldier on campaign, to eat when you can eat, rest when you can rest. You will make a fine addition to our group.”

Lord Johnny made a garbled noise as though he were repressing a protest with his own force of will, and then stomped to the door of the hotel suite. “I'll have something sent up,” he muttered, and then stomped out.

The line was back between Lou's brows, but Theo just laughed.

“He will come around,” he assured them. “He likes to get his way, but he won't stomp about for very long if he doesn't.”

“Well, I should hope not,” Dacia said. “Pouting is such unbecoming behavior in a man.”

 

16 June 1897 Dear Papa Hope you and the boys are well Had to cancel train to Buda-Pesth Much happening New arrangements soonest possible Love LouLou

“I believe you,” King Carol said, but he looked uncomfortable saying it. “I believe you, yet we've seen no sign of anything unusual.” He leaned back in his chair, looking tired. “If Mihai is planning an attack, he'll need more than just a handful of Florescu men to support him. He'll need an army, which he hasn't got.”

Lou's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she almost smoothed them down with her hand. She had a raging headache, and it was painful just to blink her eyes.

She had never been prone to headaches before, and there was something ominous in getting one now. When she'd mentioned it to Dacia on their way into the palace, however, Dacia had assured her it was just the lingering effect of two days' excitement.

“Do you . . . spy on them?” Lou asked when she had her face under control.

“We have had Mihai watched,” the king admitted. “In the past, the Dracula family has been more of a curiosity than anything else. They pay taxes and give money to the church . . . the very model of modern Romanian nobility!

“But then Mihai turned eighteen, and suddenly he was everywhere: a private box at the opera, hosting balls, attending the parties of every notable family in Bucharest. The Draculas are usually more reclusive.

“Mihai became well known not only for his social attendance, but for his opinions. Nothing treasonous,” the king said as Dacia started to ask. “At least not on the surface. Just a sort of . . . knowing tone, as if he were supervising my rule. At one point he reportedly said that he was withholding judgment on a law, as if it were his duty to rate my legislation.”

“Cheeky,” Dacia commented, and everyone looked at her. She waved a slender hand in front of her face. “Come now, I can admire his sheer bravado! Even if I do want his head on a platter by tomorrow morning.”

She set down her tea and took a small sandwich. Lou had convinced Dacia that she would feel gauche wearing a traditional gown to the palace, and was glad that Dacia had listened to her. Properly corseted and swathed in a finely striped blue poplin and delicate ivory lace, Dacia looked much more her old self, giving Lou one less thing to worry about, so at least she knew Dacia wasn't the cause of her headache.

“The first time I met Mihai,” the king continued, “he brought up Vlad Tepes twice during our fifteen-minute interview.” King Carol looked at them, to see if they understood, and they all
nodded, except for Lou, who feared her head might fall right off if she moved it.

“Take this,” said a voice in her ear, and Lou jumped and nearly tumbled off the stiff little sofa where she was sitting with Dacia.

“Goodness!” Dacia clutched at the lacy collar of her gown, dropping her sandwich.

“I am so sorry,” Theo said, embarrassed.

“I suppose that's what I get for sitting with my back to the door,” Dacia grumbled.

“Thank you for joining us, Mr. Arkady,” the queen said. “What were you saying?”

Now Mr. Arkady looked very uncomfortable, and Lou had a moment of schadenfreude at seeing him blush. He held out something to her, a small paper packet of the sort that doctors used to dispense medicines.

“I heard that Miss Neulander had the headache, and brought her a cure,” he muttered.

“That is very kind of you,” Queen Elisabeth said warmly.

“Yes, very kind,” Lou echoed, blushing.

She reached for the small paper packet, and her hand shook. She looked around, saw that everyone was watching, and her hand shook a little more. She told herself sternly that it was only because her head was pounding so.

“Pour it into your tea,” Theo said. “And stir until it dissolves.”

Lou obediently opened the screw of paper and dumped the white powder into her tea. She put aside the paper and stirred the liquid with a hand that still shook, making her spoon rattle against the sides of the queen's beautiful bone china. When she
put the spoon down, the last of the powder having swirled away to nothingness, she looked up and saw that everyone was still watching her.

“I am sorry that you are not well,” the king said.

“It's nothing, just a headache,” she said, putting the cup to her lips.

The china was so fine that the edge of the cup nearly cut her lip. Her aunt Ileana had a set of bone china, imported from England, and she and Dacia had once been spanked red-bottomed for breaking a cup and two saucers. The shards had been so fine and sharp that they had sliced Lou's fingers, and Aunt Ileana had told her that it was only what she deserved.

Lou drank, grateful that the powder didn't seem to have a flavor. The pain in her head was making her stomach roil, and she didn't want to start gagging in front of Theo . . . or Their Majesties. She drank the whole cup while everyone looked on in concern, and Theo breathed a sigh of relief when she was done.

“I can't recall you ever having a headache before, LouLou,” Dacia said with a frown.

“I can't either,” Lou said. “But we've endured so much these past weeks, it's hardly surprising.” She gestured with her teacup, and nearly lost her grip on it. “Whoops!”

“Allow me,” Theo said. He was still hovering at her shoulder, and now he gently took the cup and saucer from her. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine . . . aren't I?”

Lou suddenly wasn't sure how she was.

“Why is the room tilting?”

“You're leaning,” Lord Johnny said.

“I'm sorry,” Lou said, not sure what else to say. She felt decidedly strange, but it was nothing that she could describe, other than that she couldn't seem to straighten herself.

“I've got you,” Dacia said, putting her arm around Lou's shoulders and pulling her upright. “What was in that envelope?” Her voice was enraged, and Lou cringed and almost protested that the powder hadn't been her idea, but then she realized that Dacia's anger was directed at Theo.

“I sent one of the Gypsies to get a headache remedy from the apothecary,” Theo said, his face ashen. “I told him specifically which apothecary, and which medicine. I've used it myself, I swear!”

Lord Johnny knelt down in front of Lou, staring intently into her face. “Are you sure the man brought the exact medicine you asked for?”

“I paid him well enough,” Theo protested. “And I checked the medicine; it looked the same as it always does.”

“Was he a tall man, with a double row of silver buttons on his sleeves?” the queen asked.

“Yes,” Theo said.

“Oh, no!” The queen put a hand to her bosom, and the king let out an oath. “We have suspected for some time that he is one of Mihai's spies!”

Theo said something in Turkish and sank to his knees at Lou's side. He took her hand, and she felt a bubble of panic in her breast. She couldn't feel her fingers. She tried to wiggle her toes, and couldn't feel her feet, either. When she tried to say something, her lips wouldn't move.

The queen had risen to her feet and was clutching at the king's
arm. “We shall ring for a doctor,” she said. “Our private physician is not in Mihai's employ, I can assure you.”

“I don't think a physician is what she needs,” Lord Johnny said.

“But if she's been poisoned, she must have a purge,” the king said. He tugged the bellpull before anyone could protest.