Borne in Blood (35 page)
Authors: Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #General, #Historical, #Horror, #Occult & Supernatural, #Guardian and Ward, #Vampires, #Nobility, #blood, #Paramours, #Switzerland
At this point I would like to keep the guards at Château Ragoczy, not because I still have suspicions, but as an attempt to draw out those who help the robbers. I am convinced that if I can lull these men into a state of submission, I can turn that to the advantage of the court. With the Comte in Austria, I can see no reason to change my arrangements, and unless you wish to protest my ploy, I will continue it, at least until such time as the Comte himself returns to advise me of his wishes. With this joint administration beginning, I feel it is to the benefit of everyone in the region to resolve this matter as quickly as possible; therefor I would be very much obliged if you, on behalf of the Comte, will indulge this subterfuge so that the worst criminals may be brought to justice at last, and a danger to all of us finally ended.
I look forward to your response and thank you for all assistance you can render in these difficult circumstances.
Most sincerely,
Egmond Talbot Lindenblatt
Magistrate, Yvoire, Lake Geneva
Swiss France
A small group of musicians had assembled in the Great Hall at Ravensberg and were setting up their instruments and music stands on the low platform at the far end of the room. Von Ravensberg stood in the archway between the dining room and the Great Hall, watching the men jockey their chairs and stands into position while three servants wrestled a log into the cavernous fireplace, placing it atop a nest of kindling; beside him Ragoczy took stock of the excitement around them, noting how the whole of the Schloss thrummed with activity in anticipation of this culmination of four days’ festivities.
“Seven guests still haven’t arrived,” von Ravensberg said unhappily.
“They may still do so. It is five hours until your banquet and eight hours until the ball.” Ragoczy watched one angular fellow with a flute try to place his sheet music on the stand without tipping it off the edge of the platform. “This being the apogee of your celebration of your ward’s betrothal, allowance must be made. You have thirty-five guests in the Schloss already, not an inconsiderable number, considering everything.”
“I know Hyacinthie was hoping for more, but I told her she cannot expect to assemble a hundred suitable guests here at Ravensberg: there isn’t room enough, and unlike the cities, we must keep ourselves to those of suitable rank and importance, whose numbers are not so great as those that might be found even in Salzburg.” Von Ravensberg offered a reminiscent smile. “She was such a lovely, biddable child, so sweet; always looking for ways to please me. But now she is a demanding young woman, eager to work her will on men.”
“I am sure you have done the best you can in arranging the ball,” said Ragoczy out of courtesy.
“Actually, Herr Lowengard, my man-of-business, has managed all of this, in terms of invitations and such—engaging the musicians, hiring extra servants and such. He is a reliable man who understands how things must function in this world; I leave most of the workaday matters to him.”
“No doubt you approved the guest list,” said Ragoczy, his irony all but undetectable.
“That I did. All but four of those invited pledged to be here, at least for the banquet and ball,” said von Ravensberg. “Your companion, Madame von Scharffensee, got here three days ago, in good time, and coming a considerable distance. I am concerned that others have not been so punctilious.”
“Madame von Scharffensee was fortunate; she arrived shortly before the rain.” Ragoczy motioned toward the windows, where drops shone in the sporadic mid-day sunshine. “The roads may be too muddy for travel.”
“Possibly,” said von Ravensberg, unconvinced. “If this ball is not a success, it may blight the occasion for Hyacinthie. I would not want her to be disappointed.” He turned away, and when he spoke again his tone had changed. “I have prevailed upon six of my guests to allow me to draw their blood, to continue the work described in my book. Would you consider adding to their number?”
Ragoczy hesitated. “I am not of Austrian or German blood,” he said at last.
“You said you were of Hungarian ancestry,” said von Ravensberg.
“Yes; of an ancient Carpathian House,” Ragoczy said, revealing none of the consternation he felt. “We were strong in the eastern mountains well before the Saxons came.” He might have added the Romans, but decided not to.
“I see,” said von Ravensberg. “Well, then, would you want to watch my procedure?” He attempted a smile. “I am glad that you appreciate my restricted population for study. I am grateful to you for your candor in that regard. Research can be so easily distorted by failures to observe the proper parameters. Many another might have made an effort to conceal his antecedents in order to be included in my efforts.”
“That is one of the reasons I thought it best to mention this to you,” said Ragoczy. He glanced toward the windows again. “Your staff is still waiting for today’s arrivals, are they not?”
“I have ordered those who can to watch the approach and to make every effort to admit the late-comers to the Schloss. I want the gates to stay open until we have sat down to our banquet.” Von Ravensberg’s attention was commanded by the leader of the musicians. “Yes, Maestro. What is it?”
The musician stood up, his violin and bow in hand. “Is there a keyboard instrument in the Schloss, Graf?” he asked. “When we made arrangements for this ball, your man of business said there would be one available.”
“There is a clavier in the music-room on the floor above. Do you require it for this evening or for practice now?”
“If you could arrange to bring it down and have it tuned …” The musician managed to look disquieted while doing his utmost to conduct himself properly.
“I will deal with the clavier while the guests are resting,” said Ragoczy. “And I will tune it.”
The lead musician favored him with a thoughtful look. “You have some knowledge of the instrument, perhaps?”
“I do,” said Ragoczy. “I collect instruments, and can play some of them tolerably well.”
“Um,” said the musician, not wanting to offend any of the Graf’s guests.
“If you would like, I might play some dance melodies while you and your companions have your twenty minutes to eat,” Ragoczy offered, and saw von Ravensberg stare in astonishment. “It would allow those who wish to continue dancing to do so.” He did not add that it would account for his absence at the midnight supper. “I know the works of Mozart and Rossini, and Schubert as well. I will not abash you, or our host.”
Saying nothing to Ragoczy’s offer, von Ravensberg raised his voice. “Do not trouble yourself, Comte; I’ll order the servants to bring the clavier down. It may take an hour or so.” He gave a hard, disapproving look at the servants who had finished at the fireplace and were now lowering the first of three large chandeliers in order to put new candles in place. “Be careful there.”
“Yes, Graf,” said the senior of the three, and added some orders in an undervoice to his comrades.
Von Ravensberg touched Ragoczy’s sleeve. “The days have got away from us, I fear. I was hoping we might have an opportunity to discuss my book before you depart. Are you willing?”
“Certainly,” said Ragoczy, trying to discern von Ravensberg’s reason for this invitation.
“Then you may want to acquaint yourself with my preferred methods. I am going to prepare my laboratory. If you would like to join me there in half an hour?”
“Half an hour it is,” said Ragoczy, who was curious about the methods von Ravensberg employed. “On the upper floor of the new wing?”
“Exactly,” said the Graf as he walked out of the Great Hall without so much as a last look around.
Ragoczy would have liked to talk with the musicians but knew this was an inconvenient time, and so went up to the Rose Room, where he discovered Rogier in front of a standing tray busily cutting up some collops of raw veal and setting them on a plate.
“My master,” he said, continuing with the last preparations for his meal. “I have Herr Schillnagel’s man in my room, and I did not want to explain to him about my appetite; he might be taken aback.”
“Herr Schillnagel arrived this morning with his sister? The tall man with the wide mustache?” Of the eight guests who had come since early morning, Ragoczy had yet to be introduced to six of them.
“That is the man. All body-servants are sharing rooms for tonight. I thought it best to eat in here, where Neuntefeld cannot see me.” He kept on, wielding the knife expertly. “The meat is very fresh.”
“As I can see. It looks quite delicious,” said Ragoczy.
“You would never eat this,” Rogier chuckled.
“Just because I do not eat does not mean I cannot appreciate good cuts of meat, or fresh vegetables, for that matter.” Ragoczy stretched, still favoring his right shoulder. “I am bidden to our host’s laboratory to see him draw blood.”
“Do you want to see it?”
“I cannot decide, but it is likely that my curiosity will prevail, and I will observe him.” He walked down the room and came back. “I have seen enough anatomy classes to have banished any thrill in watching more, but I cannot help but be inquisitive—how he goes about his study, and how he arrives at his conclusions. I am a bit surprised that he waited until this occasion to ask me. Or perhaps he was making up his mind if he should even make such an offer; he must be convinced that I will not abuse his hospitality by claiming his study for my own.”
Rogier smiled sternly. “If he knew of your—”
“I am thankful he does not,” Ragoczy said, cutting Rogier short as he stopped near the fireplace. “His book is not very specific about his methods, for fear of others … shall we say, purloining? … them for their own uses.” He sat down in the high-backed easy-chair that was tantalizingly close.
“He’s not worried that you’ll purloin them?” Rogier asked.
“Apparently not. He is aware that I am involved with Eclipse Press. I assume he wants to establish the authenticity of his techniques, or something of the sort.” He shifted forward in the chair, elbows on knees. “Is Hero about?”
“I haven’t seen her.” Rogier had rarely known Ragoczy to be so restive when there was so little apparent cause for him to be.
“For how long?” Ragoczy inquired; aside from one frantically rapturous night together after her arrival, she had made a point of staying away from him so as not to compromise either of them in the eyes of von Ravensberg’s guests.
Rogier considered. “About an hour and a half ago. She was on her way down from her room.”
“How was she?” Ragoczy asked.
“She said she had a headache, but it wasn’t sufficient to keep her in her bed,” Rogier said, watching Ragoczy while he went on, “She breakfasted with the other ladies about two hours ago in the morning room, and said that she was going with them all on a tour of the old wing, since the carriage-ride through the country wouldn’t be pleasant in the rain. I understand there are some interesting features in the old wing.” Satisfied with his labors, Rogier took his plate and went to the window-seat to dine.
“I see,” said Ragoczy, a frown deepening between his brows.
“I think she is still tired from her journey,” said Rogier.
“It has been a hard time for her,” Ragoczy conceded.
“She said she would take a rest before dressing for the ball,” Rogier added helpfully. “When the tour is over. Hyacinthie is eager to show them as much as possible.”
“Hyacinthie is giving the tour?” Ragoczy put his fingertips together. “Not the steward or Herr Lowengard?”
“Hyacinthie: enthusiastically. She knows the Schloss better than anyone, from what Madame von Scharffensee described. The staff said she has explored every building on the whole of the estate.” Rogier shook his head. “If you like, I will check on Madame von Scharffensee when she returns for her nap.”
“If you would; thank you,” said Ragoczy, dismissing the unfamiliar twinge of apprehension that went through him. “I believe most of the guests are planning to rest this afternoon.”
“So they can dance until after midnight; the banquet and midnight supper should give them strength for the evening,” said Rogier. “This is quite a grand occasion for Ravensberg, I gather. The staff tells me that the Graf rarely entertains, and not on this scale. Fortelle, the senior footman, has been in service here for eighteen years and can’t remember another occasion like this one. They’re all a bit overwhelmed.”
“And with one of his two new wards still missing, I would imagine some of the staff would feel this is an inappropriate celebration, one that ought to have been postponed; the house is not officially in mourning, but it is far from being filled with delight,” said Ragoczy as he shoved himself out of the easy-chair.
“A few do think that; Fortelle thinks they should all be in half-mourning until Rosalie’s fate is known,” said Rogier. “Two or three of them express worry about the remaining child—Hedda. They say she is very down-cast and silent. Hardly surprising: losing her parents and her sister all in the same year—” He set his fork down and opened his hand to show his emotion.
“Von Ravensberg says he wants to ease her grief,” Ragoczy mused, a distant concentration in his gaze. “I believe it is generally understood that Hyacinthie resents his attention to the children.”
“She is hardly more than a child herself, and about to marry a man not of her choosing. It is hardly surprising that she might feel put-upon,” said Rogier.
Ragoczy shook his head slowly. “There is something more.”
“How do you mean?” Rogier asked.
“It is little more than a sensation, like a cold breeze on the neck.” He came toward the window-seat. “The rain seems to be clearing.”
“The roads will still be muddy,” said Rogier. When Ragoczy remained silent, he went on, “Werther, the under-cook, says that Hedda has been weeping every night, and that Hyacinthie becomes angry because of it.” He ate more of his veal. “What do you make of the bridegroom?”
“I would not have thought him a good mate for Hyacinthie,” said Ragoczy. “But my opinion has not been sought.”
Rogier shook his head. “She has her sights set higher.”
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