The Division of the Damned (36 page)

It was 0500 hours when they met at the foot of the stairs by the main door. The candles that lit the hall were quietly dying their private deaths and the dark was oppressive and sepulchral.

"Have we got everything?" Mordechai fussed.

"If we haven’t, it’s too late now.”

"We’ll be fine, Mordi. It’ll all be alright," Stephanie soothed. The door loomed before them and all three were aware of the change crossing its threshold would signify. Within the castle walls they were mere prisoners, but on the other side they would be renegades. They waited in the dimness of the wax-splattered hall while Mordechai made up his mind.

Reuben saw the worry that lined his friend’s brow. "Mordi, it’s now or never. Let’s make a move before the day runs out on us.”

Mordechai looked at them both and then, as if reaching an inner agreement, he nodded and set off for the door.

He hadn’t moved five paces when a low growl came from the shadows. The sound echoed around the hall but in the gloom there was nothing to see. They froze, not even blinking, as another growl rumbled through the hall.

"What the hell is that?" Reuben muttered to himself.

"Shtum!”
Mordechai impulsively admonished, making more noise than Reuben’s exclamation. The silence ate the dark and the weak light from the waning candles gave no clue as to what had made the noise.

They felt rather than heard the movement. It started in the shadows to the right of the main door and circled behind them. As one they turned and followed its invisible progress. Reuben slowly pulled out a knife while Stephanie picked up an empty candle holder. They still couldn’t see anything but the threat was real and present.

"Who are you?” Reuben’s voice was steady but his knees trembled like a child’s bottom lip. "Is that you, Doctor Rasch?” Mordechai feebly ventured as Reuben shot him a questioning glance. Mordechai shrugged contritely.

The spectre carried on circling and they continued to follow the path they felt it was taking. Mordechai’s mouth was dry and the urge to run pounded through him, blocking out all thought. He took a step back behind Stephanie, who ignored him, and he began to edge towards the door. A movement stopped him in his tracks.

Like the prow of a ship cutting through a black ocean, the long, whiskered snout of a wolf poked out of the shadows. Two intense, glowing eyes followed and Marik stepped into view.

"Ay ay ay
,
"
Reuben muttered.

Standing upright, Marik drooled like a rabid hound as he growled menacingly at them. His long, knife-like talons opened and closed as if grasping an unseen prey and he panted in between growls like an excited dog.

"Oh my God, a werewolf … " was all Stephanie could say.

Before Reuben could voice an idea, Mordechai gave a strangled cry and bolted for the door. Marik, seeing his prey running away, bounded after him, ignoring Reuben and Stephanie.

As they looked on in horror, the werewolf pounced and landed on Mordechai’s back. Without thinking, Reuben pulled his knife and ran towards the werewolf to jump on him.

The beast’s fur was matted and hard with dirt and Reuben could smell the rank gust of its breath as he put his arm around its neck to pull it off his friend. The monster’s muscles bunched like stones and Reuben immediately realised the futility of his attack.

The creature lost interest in Mordechai and rose effortlessly on its back legs to grasp at Reuben. Reuben made ready to stab but the impetus of the werewolf standing up nearly threw him off. He felt the claws closing on his arm and the power in that grip confirmed that his only chance was to get in a position to strike with his knife.

The wolf turned his head and Reuben, to his horror, saw that the beast was now looking him in the eye. Unadulterated rage daggered from its feral eyes and Reuben felt the cold hand of death pulling his
arm away from the werewolf’s throat.

They wrestled, Reuben endeavouring to hold onto the wolf while the monster slowly prized his arm away, and he felt a tide of panic rise at the solidity of the beast’s power. Every vein popped in his arm as he fought to keep hold of the monster’s neck but slowly, inch by inch, he was forced to let go.

Then, just as he felt his strength slipping away, the wolf gave a startled yelp. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Stephanie armed with a heavily waxed candleholder as she prepared to strike again. The wolf’s snout looked broken.

Reuben laboured back into position and struck with the knife, plunging it deep into the beast’s eye. There was an audible pop as the knife sank in and Reuben stood as fast as he could
,
looking on in disbelief as the monster, its muzzle bent from Stephanie’s assault, whimpered as it removed the knife slowly from its eye socket.

Blood poured out of the wound, splashing the floor crimson as the wolfman stood whining in pain. Mordechai, obeying a primeval instinct, fled out of the main door into the cold morning. Stephanie and Reuben, now also armed with a candleholder, stood watching the wolf, neither willing to move in case they incited it to attack.

It stood opposite them breathing heavily, its massive shoulders moving in time with each breath, and the raw malice it radiated cowed them both to raise their candleholders in wretched defiance.

Then as slowly as it had arrived, it edged out of the pool of light and stepped back into the darkness until only the tip of its bent snout was showing and, in an almost audible snap, it was gone.

They stood rooted for over a minute until Reuben whispered, "I think it’s gone. I can’t feel it.”

Stephanie knew what he meant. "I can’t either. Let’s go find Mordi.”

They backed towards the door, not taking their eyes off their surroundings until they were outside.

Mordechai was in the stables trembling and weeping in shock, blindly going through the motions of saddling his horse when they found him. Reuben and Stephanie soothed him but it was plain to them both that he was on the verge of a breakdown.

"We can’t go on with Mordi like this. It’s plain Goyisher Kop.”

"What do you want to do then, stay here and wait for another encounter with the wolfman?” Stephanie challenged him.

"No, yes.”
He paused to gather his wits. His knees were weak and he wasn’t in control of his hands. He hauntedly raked his hand through his hair and used the moment to marvel at the composure and nerve of the woman before him. "You’re right. We’re ready to go now so let’s just do it and hope that Mordi gets better." Stephanie nodded and turned to help Mordechai.

They were so preoccupied with their preparations that neither of them noticed the small scratch on Mordechai’s neck.

*  *  *

In the library
,
the
c
ount wasn’t pleased. "You let the Israelites see you?” he roared. Marik was curled in a corner, halfway through his transition. He was naked and his nose, mouth and right eye were covered in dried blood. Nevertheless, the wounds were already healing. "What in the name of Insangerata made you do that?”

“Master,
" he whined. Iullia, who stood next to the count, sneered at his whimpering
.
"I was hungry and there are no prisoners now. I needed food.”

A whip lashed out from the c
ount’s side and cracked against his naked ribs. Marik howled in pain and humiliation as once again the leather kissed and ripped his exposed skin.

"Now you will pay for your greed, beast
,” t
he count snarled as lash after lash fell on his bloodied servant.

The Lilith in Iullia soon lost interest in the whipping and turned to look through a window. She had witnessed a million thrashings and the sight of a man screaming in pain like a woman no longer appealed to her. Only power appealed to her now.

The whip fell time and time again until she t
urned around and addressed the c
ount
.
"Why is it so bad if the Jews see the wolf?”

He stopped in mid-stroke and turned to her. "The Jews are immaterial
;
it’s the greed that infuriates me. He must know his place.”

Lilith saw through the flimsy excuse. He needed to take his worries out on something. The mere ripping of nameless Russian soldiers didn’t sate his desire for power any more. He needed to apply it on something more personal and Marik fitted the bill perfectly.

Marik, pitiable and broken, crawled to the
c
ount's boots and curled up around them in unspoken supplication.

"Get out, worm," the c
ount spat and kicked him in the ribs. Marik yelped and, hunched up double, he ran out. He turned to Iullia. "How long until the birth?” he demanded.

"Not long now,
Master
.
” She stroked her stomach. "All is going as planned.”

"What
is your other body doing now, d
emon? I haven’t seen her in a long time:”

Maria’s shell was laid out on her bed, wasted and husked like an ancient Egyptian queen. The book that had fed her for so long was gone and death lingered at her door like a covetous relation.

"When the time comes it will be there,” Lilith answered. "In the meantime I think it better that I concentrate on this vessel so the child
will be strong when it’s born, don’t you?”

The c
ount grunted and smiled. "The child is important but the woman’s body is not. Don’t forget that the girl dies after the birth or
the prophesy
will be blighted.”

"I know,
Master
. Before the cord is cut, the mother must die so that he truly will be the tenth in line. When that time comes, I will slip into Maria’s body so that the child can be blessed by its mother’s death.”

The c
ount nodded.
"Good. I prefer that body to this one. This one is too skinny." He looked Iullia's body up and down and wordlessly stalked out. "When the night comes, I will hunt the Israelites in case they decide to tell the Russians of our whereabouts.” His voice carried through the walls.

Lilith spat and smiled to herself.
"Idiot!”

Chapter 46

Wewelsburg Castle

The old man hobbled up the hill towards the main gate. His journey had taken him from the east of the Reich to the west, and his worn-out frame was screaming for rest. Nevertheless, respite was the last thing he had in mind. The satchel he carried contained something that he had guarded with his life and now that t
he journey was close to its end,
t
here was no way on God’s earth he would rest until he was finished.

His walking staff clicked out the pace and he let its steady beat carry him along. He knew that the weight of the world and the future of mankind were in question, and as he saw the looming citadel rise before him, his pace quickened a jot as the excitement of completion sparked him on.

*  *  *

They were at sword practise when Michael interrupted them. He waited for them to complete their moves before instructing them to follow him to the main hall.

"What’s going on, b
oss?” Matheus asked.

"I don’t know, Matze,” Von Struck shrugged. "We’ll find out in a minute, though.”

Michael led them into the main hall and bid them all to take a seat. Already seated at the round table was an old man in a monk’s habit. In front of him was a satchel which he was nervously fingering as if wishing to unload it.

“Gentlemen, it is my great honour to introduce t
o you one of the oldest, and
certainly the most respected, members of the Order of Dobrzyn, Brother Raphael Czerolka.”

They all looked at the old m
an who scowled at the attention.
"What are you all gawping at
?
Haven’t you seen an old man before?”

Michael smiled warmly behind the
l
ibrarian’s back and carried on.
"He’s travelled a long way and the news he’s brought is not good.”

"Not good? Pah! You worry too much
, b
rother.” Czerolka banged the table in annoyance.

"I think it would be better if you told them, old
man.” All eyes were on the l
ibrarian who in turn scrutinised them one at a time.

"And these are the ten
,
are they, Michael?”

"There’s another one and Inselman. They’re both on a mission. I will explain later.”

"Young Inselman."
H
e turned to face Michael. "I always said he was a good one, that. Green but brave.”

"Tell us what you’ve got to say, old man
,
" Gruhn butted in. "Save the scrutiny until after we’re gone.”

They all laughed but Michael scowled at the rudeness. The old man smiled to himself and nodded. "The news I bring is not exactly shocking, not when you ta
ke into consideration the grovel
lers that are in charge of the Order nowadays, but it might put a bit of pressure on your deadline.”