Lycanthropos (13 page)

Neither Blasko nor Louisa had noticed the guard's brief
observation, and their conversation continued as Blasko
said, "You are perhaps too harsh in judging your husband, Donna. I do not envy him his position."

"I'm sure that he doesn't envy you yours either," she
replied. "That's the problem."

"No, Donna, it is the point. He does not wish to exchange places with me. Do you blame him? I bear him no
ill
will, and my people are the ones who suffer from
your..." He paused, aware that this poor woman felt
responsible for things which she could not control. "...from
the cruelty of the Nazis. If I can understand and forgive,
certainly you can."

She shook her head. "Perhaps I am unfair, Blasko, but I
just can't. My cousin at least has the excuse of ignorant fanaticism. My husband has no excuse."

"Is the desire to live so petty a reason for remaining silent, Donna?"

She was growing heated again. "Is life so sweet that one should trade one's soul for it?"

Blasko shook his head, grinning at her. "No, Donna, no.
You are right. There are times when life is not sweet at
all.
There are people for whom life is a burden and death an
unattainable goal."

She knew, of course, to whom he was referring. "People
such as Kaldy."

"Yes," he nodded. "Such as poor Janos."

Louisa thought for a few moments before speaking.
"Blasko, what is wrong with him? What really is wrong with
him?"

"He is a werewolf," Blasko replied simply.

"No, no, I mean... I mean, what is the... oh, I don't
know...what is the cause of
his...
of his disease..."

"He is not diseased, Donna," Blasko said. "He is cursed. He is plagued."

"My cousin and my husband are correct this far," she objected. "There must be some sort of chemical problem
involved, something measurable and understandable. This is
the twentieth century, after all. We've become civilized enough and educated enough to realize that the old superstitions are...are just superstitions."

Blasko looked at her for a few moments before saying,
"And how civilized has mankind become, Donna? I am just an ignorant man, but even I know that mankind has become more
ignorant than I and more cruel than Janos."

She lowered her eyes. "I know. I know. But just because a few barbarians have managed to gain control of a few countries doesn't mean that we all have to retreat a thousand years and start believing in curses and
devils."

"But you saw…"

"I know what I saw, Blasko, but I don't understand what
I saw." She smiled at him. "Come now. You don't really believe in supernatural creatures, do you? Honestly? Don't you honestly believe that a rational explanation, a
scientific explanation...?"

"Donna," he interrupted, "Janos has not changed, has not aged, in all the time I have know him, and I have known Janos for twenty-five years."

"Twenty-five years!" she exclaimed. "But that's
impossible! He can't be more than twenty-five years old
right now."

"I do not know how old Janos is, Donna. Fifty years, a hundred years, two hundred years...I have no idea. All I
know is that for the past twenty-five years he has not aged,
and that for the past twenty-five years I have been his
keeper."

Her eyes widened. "His keeper. Is that why he didn't
injure you that night when he attacked the soldiers on the
trucks, and again when he escaped from this place?"

"Oh, no, that is not why at all," Blasko said. "When the wolf possesses him he has no awareness of his other self. He
has no human thoughts or memories."

"But then why...?"

"Wolfsbane, Donna, wolfsbane. A plant which has the power to restrain him. For the past twenty-five years I have been binding Janos with chains on every night of the full moon and then weaving sprigs of wolfsbane into the links of the chains. When the change comes upon him, the
wolfsbane weakens him so that he cannot break free of the
chains."

"And you had wolfsbane with you?" she asked.

"The night when the Germans came to arrest us, yes. Not the night Janos escaped from this prison. That night I was merely fortunate, as you and your husband and the colonel were fortunate. Janos wanted to escape confinement more than he wanted to kill us, and so he fled and left us alive."

She nodded. "And it was coincidence that when you were finally arrested, he was arrested too?"

"Again, no, Donna. Janos sought me out. He knew that I
would wait for him at the place where the change came over him, and so he returned there. The German soldiers came
just a few minutes later."

"How did he know that you would wait for him? Why would
he want to go back to you if you kept him in chains? I don't
understand."

"I am his keeper, as I told you. He is not a bad man,
my friend Janos. He does not wish to kill. I have been able to keep him from killing for twenty-five years, until that night two months ago when the soldiers came. Until then, he
had not killed anyone since he killed my wife and my
daughter."

Louisa's mouth dropped open. "He killed your family!?"

Blasko nodded. "Yes, Donna, that is how we met."

She shook her head. "That's horrible! I'm so terribly
sorry, Herr Blasko."

He nodded, accepting her sympathy. "It was many years
ago, Donna, and pain fades with time. I tried to kill him at
first, of course. Nothing worked, not even the silver bullet
we have been told of. And then he asked me to become his keeper and I agreed. I reasoned that if I could not kill him, at least I could keep him from doing to anyone else what he did to my Visha and our little Lura."

Louisa looked into Blasko's eyes sympathetically. "It must have been very hard for you, seeing him every day, being with him all the time, knowing what he did."

"It was hard for a long while," he agreed, nodding. "But
I have come to understand Janos, even to pity him. He can't help being what he is, can't help doing what he does. He is cursed. Donna. That is the explanation of what he is. There is no other."

Louisa's reply was cut short by the approaching sound of
jack boots clicking on the stone floor of the corridor outside the cell. She and Blasko looked over toward the sound and Louisa frowned as the grinning face of her cousin came into view. "Good evening, Louisa," Schlacht said cheerfully. "I trust you and our friend here have been having an enjoyable conversation?"

"Whatever Blasko...Herr Blasko," she corrected herself,
determined to afford the Gypsy the dignity of a polite address, at least when discussing him with her cousin. "Whatever Herr Blasko and I have been talking about is certainly none of your business, Helmuth."

"Ah, but I disagree, Louisa," Schlacht responded. "And
Reichsführer
Himmler disagrees as well, as you know."

"Himmler can feel however he wishes, Helmuth," she spat. "It could not be of less importance to me than it already is." Three of Schlacht's men came up behind him in the corridor and Louisa blanched slightly, suddenly fearing
that her cousin had decided to execute Blasko. "What are they doing here?" she demanded in a slightly tremulous voice.

Surmising the source of her apprehension, Schlacht laughed softly. "Don't worry, my dear. Our Gypsy friend is not going to his
final reward just yet. But he is going to make a contribution
this evening to our little project." He nodded curtly to one of his men, who unlocked the cell and then entered it. He placed a pair of handcuffs roughly onto Blasko's wrists and then pulled the old man to his feet and pushed him from the cell. Flanked by two of the blackshirts and prodded from behind by the third, Blasko was hustled down the corridor.

Louisa rose from the stool. "What are you doing,
Helmuth? Where are you taking him?"

"We're going on a little hunting expedition," Schlacht
replied, smiling. "Have you ever gone hunting, Louisa?"

"Of course not," she said. "I don't see how anyone can derive pleasure from killing animals." She paused. "Or from killing anything else, for that matter."

"Such high moral ground," he observed sarcastically. "And
yet I don't recall ever seeing you refuse to eat meat. Do
you think that sauerbraten comes from suicidal cows?"

"I don't object to killing animals, Helmuth. I just object to enjoying it."

"An interesting distinction. In any event, when hunting certain dangerous carnivores, one method of bringing them within range is to stake out a prey animal to attract them.
Our friend Blasko is the prey animal, and we are, of course, hunting a werewolf."

"You wouldn't!" she exclaimed, horrified and disgusted.
"You've seen what that creature can do! You can't just..."

"You misunderstand me, Louisa. We are not yet finished
with Blasko. My purpose is to capture the werewolf, not feed it."

"But then how…?"

"Trust me, my dear cousin," he interrupted her,
relishing her discomfort. "This has all been carefully planned. And the element of risk should induce our Gypsy here to cooperate with us." He turned and began to follow
after his men, saying over his shoulder, "I suggest you wait
back in your quarters, or go out and see a little of the nightlife in
Budapest
, all alone, I'm sorry to say. I'm afraid that your husband is otherwise engaged."

"Helmuth!" she called after him, but he was already gone. She ran after him, but a guard was blocking the door through which her cousin had exited, and she had no choice but to return to the suite of rooms which the S.S. had prepared for her and her husband. Louisa walked slowly up the long marble staircase which led to the suite, alternately weeping and gritting her teeth, filled with anger and sorrow and worry and dread. She entered the sitting room of the suite and locked the door behind her. Then she sat down upon the settee and fretted, watching the hands of the large cuckoo clock turn slowly in their clicking
circuit.

 

Outside in the cobblestone courtyard of the Ragoczy
Palace a black Mercedes limousine and a gray troop
transport truck waited with idling motors as Blasko was
deposited into the front seat of the limousine beside the
driver, who gave him a disgusted look and then ignored him. Colonel Schlacht entered the rear of the automobile and sat
beside Joachim Festhaller. Gottfried von Weyrauch had been
told to seat himself in the fold-down seat which faced the rear window, and his hands fidgeted nervously as he asked,
"Helmuth, where are we going?"

"We are going werewolf hunting, Gottfried," Schlacht replied. "Just relax. You are here as an observer, nothing more
. "

"I'd rather wait here, if
it's
all the same to..."

"Shut
up,"
Schlacht snapped and then turned to Festhaller. "Did my adjutant Vogel fill you in?"

"Yes, for the most part." Festhaller replied. "Are you
certain that the plant you obtained is of the correct species?"

"Absolutely. We had it verified by a botanist in
Vienna
, Professor Hans Edelmann...do you know him, by the way?"

"I have heard of him, of course," Festhaller replied.

"Well, according to him it is most definitely wolfsbane
…
aconitum lycoctonum,
he insisted upon calling it...and we
have more than enough for our needs tonight. We have woven
the sprigs into the netting and into the chains. If the old
Gypsy has told us the truth about the plant's effect on the
creature, then we will be able to render it harmless."

"And if not?"

Schlacht shrugged. "Then Blasko will be a dead Gypsy. If
the wolfsbane doesn't weaken the creature, we will be able to retreat while it feeds on Blasko."

Festhaller nodded. "Yes, good, good. But Lieutenant
Vogel did not explain to me how you hope to find the...the
hunting ground of the creature.
Hungary
is a big place in which to search for one man, Herr Colonel."

Schlacht leaned forward and called out to the driver, "Schnurr, give me the map in the side pocket." The driver pulled a folded map from the cloth compartment in the door and handed it over his shoulder to Weyrauch, who in turn
handed it to Schlacht. The colonel unfolded it and spread it
out onto his and Festhaller's knees. "See? Here. And here,
and here."

Festhaller squinted to see in the dim light of dusk. The
map of
Budapest
and its environs had been marked in a number of places with red checks, all in the same general area on the outskirts of the city. The Nazi racial expert looked up from the map. "What do these marks represent?"