BW: The Last Nosferatu 2

Blood Wars:
The Last Nosferatu

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Chapter 2

The second floor of the Schloss Charlottenburg overflowed with activity as the grandfather clock in one of the hallways struck five times. The advisors, assistants, and servants of the Albion nobles visiting Über Berlin worked and moved as quickly as possible without knocking each other over. Within this mix of subordinates, a number of twelve-year-old girls in Oriental silk dresses slipped between bigger and sturdier bodies than theirs. Each carried a bundle of garments or linens through the carpeted corridors to and from the majestic guest room in a corner of the palace facing the gardens. Inside the room, other girls clustered around the tall wardrobe and the delicate vanity, and made beelines between the two. This process of carrying and delivering centered around another, more distinctive girl about their age. A violet satin bodice had just been placed over the corset, and two girls were helping their mistress insert her twiggish arms through a pair of long, lavender-colored sleeves with wide cuffs. The bodice buttoned up the back and its gold-silk collar hooked likewise. Her thick make-up and cascade of dark hair were already attended to, so she was free to turn her head and look out towards the gardens.

The stretches of flower beds and flagstone walkways in the dying light of the mid-spring sun were inviting, but there was no time for outdoor excursions. Sir Cecil Islands had informed her the other day, after their ship had arrived and while they were traveling by cab to the palace, that the conference with the Germanic Kingdom"s parliament would begin at 7 o"clock that evening. It would very likely continue late into the night. Since her arrival, she had earned no rest from the numerous briefings on the day"s proceedings, not to mention the cleaning and pressing her clothing required for the occasion. Now she was nearly dressed and would have just enough time to pick at her dinner before leaving with her other advisors and handmaids to the Neue Reichstag.

"Milady," spoke up one of the girls. The young noble blinked and looked at her servant. "I need your other hand now to finish your nails."

"Yes, of course," she muttered as she lifted her left hand and unclenched it. She hadn"t even realized it was in a fist. "Is the other dry?"

"In a short time, milady," said another girl who was fitting her mistress" right foot into a purple silk shoe with gold stitching.

"Thank you, Cara," said the child-noble.

She was prepared to ask the first girl another question when she heard a pair of feet approach the door. Her handmaids all wore silk slippers, so the footfalls could not have belonged to any of them.

"Tania," she called to a third girl who was bringing her sash, "go see who is at the door."

The girl bowed, placed her bundle into another maid"s arms, and flew to the door. She opened it before the visitor knocked.

"Oh!" cried a slightly startled male voice. "Forgive me. Lady Penwood, are you decent?"

"Nearly," she answered dryly. She could have recognized Mr. Jacobi"s nasally voice and Welsh accent even in a crowded room. "What is it?"

"You have a call from Sir Islands regardin" tonight"s conference. It"s urgent. Shall I tell him to hold?"

"No, bring the holo-projector here," said Lady Penwood, motioning with her nearly-dry fingers. "Right there in the middle. That"ll do, Rayne. I"ll let you finish in a moment."

Nigel Jacobi, one of her advisors and a faithful friend of her late father, warily stepped into the room, pressed the flashing light in the center of the disc in his hand, and placed it on the rug. As he stood back, his round eyes glanced and squinted at the onslaught of exotic curtains, furniture, shams, dolls, pictures, and lamps. The only feature he could mentally comprehend was a bookshelf on the opposite side of the room. It nearly reached the ceiling and was completely filled with the friendly, leather-bound covers of well-used books.

In a matter of seconds, the flickering figure of a tall man with brown hair, a bushy mustache and glasses appeared above the disc. His thin face ended in a long, square chin, which gave him an even more wooden appearance; his complexion and posture helped to enforce the hyperbole. "Good evening, Lady Penwood."

"Good evening, Sir Islands. Is there something you wished to tell me?"

He fidgeted with the lapel of his grey suit. "I"m afraid there may be a matter of concern regarding the conference. There have been reports that the Count Four"s mother vessel, the Leviathan, has concentrated its patrol of the air-traffic trading routes over Über Berlin within the last 48 hours. The concern is that their intentions in this action may be aggressive."

"The Count Four?" Jacobi bared his teeth. "Those pirates! What business have they with us?"

"Unfortunately, more than we would like." The pitch of Island"s voice dropped as the tone of severity intensified. "Their intrusion on our free-trade activities with the Continent will be one subject of discussion at the conference. About 16 hours ago, I received a message from Chancellor Medici confirming that he would send ambassadors to negotiate a withdrawal and settlement with the Counts."

"Then what is your concern, sir?" Lady Penwood asked, her face as blank as a porcelain doll"s.

"I thought it only right to ask whether or not it would be your wish to leave the city, your ladyship."

Although Islands tried to deliver his statement with gentleness and respect, the young noble started indignantly. "Leave? Why? Is the conference being called off?"

"No, milady," said Islands. "The conference shall take place on schedule. No one would think less of you, however, if you decided to return to Londinium for your own protection. If negotiations fail with the Counts, the situation could become hazardous."

A scowl and a frown peeked through the mask of make-up. "If none of the other nobles are leaving, then I will not, either. I will not run away."

"Are you certain? As the youngest noble, your life is of great value to us. It would be unjust to jeopardize it."

"If I am a true noble," the girl replied coolly, "then I will not be frightened away by every little threat."

A heavy moment of silence dwelled between the speakers and listeners in the room. Mr. Jacobi, whose face had scrunched more and more as the conversation continued, at last tried to speak out. "But milady—"

"Let it be, Nigel," Sir Islands interrupted politely. "Her ladyship has voiced her feelings, and we will respect them. I hope nothing does happen, if only so that your courage may be around to guide the next generation in this troubled world of ours."

"Thank you, Sir Islands," said Lady Penwood, still unsmilingly. "I will see you at the meeting, then. Thank you."             

"I will see you shortly, ma"am." The knight bowed. "I wish you a safe arrival."

The image wavered rapidly for half a second, then was swallowed by the bulb in the disc, and the bulb faded off.

Jacobi rubbed his short, peppered beard and fixed his disturbed gaze on the child-noble. She returned to her chair at the vanity and gestured one girl to run the brush through her hair again while the other finished painting the tips of her long nails.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Jacobi?" asked Lady Penwood without looking at the elderly man.

"I . . . I have no other messages, your ladyship. I will leave you to your preparations."

"Fine. Make sure the car is at the door in 45 minutes. That is all."

"Very good, milady." Jacobi sighed and bowed deeply. Perhaps it was indigestion talking, but his stomach was tied and twisted at the thought of a young girl – noble or not – placing herself in such a precarious situation. Still, he did not speak again, did not try to reason her out of it. He should have, he told himself later; but looking at those chilling eyes and firm chin that did not suit a girl her age, for him it would have been like convincing a tiger to remain in its cave for fear of being caught by hunters. He did not want any fangs flashing in his direction.

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"I thought you said these negotiations would be short," Alucard grumbled. He drummed his fingers loudly against the table. When Integra flashed a glance at them, he made a point to drum them with even more force. He grinned and mused on how easy it was to revert to old habits, such as irritating his former master and current wife, when boredom dropped in for a tiresome sojourn.

"I did," Integra growled as she considered how big a mess would be made if she cut off Alucard"s hand.

"Then why are the Counts taking so long?" The vampire finally retired from his table-tapping. "Is it typical for them to make us wait like this?"

"No, actually," said Integra, her semi-good eye squinting. "I can"t imagine why they would be so anxious over something as trivial as this trade dispute. Your garden-variety gangster would flaunt his cool-headedness over such a matter."

"Well, this place stinks of fear," he replied. The sentence was no sooner said that the grey door opened behind him, and the timid youth from before came in with a tray of drinks.

"When may we expect your superiors, boy?" Integra inquired bluntly. She eyed the drinks suspiciously.

"My lords will be here shortly, sirs. I am to wait in here with you until they arrive."

Oh, good. I was hoping to have a snack while we wait, Alucard remarked with a chuckle.

You don"t think he could be a threat, do you? Integra asked.

Hardly. He looks like he"s going to piss himself. He probably does think I"ll eat him.

If you don"t stop looking at him like that, I"m going to think you"ll eat him.

I won"t if you don"t want me to. But maybe you"ve missed seeing me in action.

Integra leaned back in her seat and smirked. The only thing I"ve missed is what you stopped doing after that cup of garlic fell into your lap.

Alucard nearly jumped up. That"s cold, my dear. Are you saying my performance of late has not been sufficient?

Let"s just say, I think you need to be willing to review old practices. She winked her eye.

Well, perhaps if you were willing to apply the necessary assistance, we would both be happier. His smirk returned.

We"ll see about that.
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The Methuselah brothers stood before the large holo-projector built into the center of the command deck. Phrixus tapped his fat right index finger against the knuckles of the other hand as he watched a transparent image of his superior flicker on. The figure"s face was hidden except for the chin and mouth. The lips were dark and a pair of long fangs protruded over the bottom lip. The rest of the figure was wrapped in a voluminous white robe and hood. Even the hands were concealed within the long sleeves.

"What is it?" the figure asked in a half-hiss.

Amluth, identical to Phrix in physical and mental density, spoke first in a quivering voice. "This plan of yours is finished, Lord Mundi. We can only defy the Republic so much. How can you expect us to go against the Knights?"

Lord Mundi pulled his lips into a sneer. "Count Weiss, remove this spineless scum from my sight."

Amluth"s mouth opened momentarily, but then slammed shut. His watery eyes looked to the ground while he slipped away. Phrixus shivered slightly, but he kept his gaze on his master.

"This turn of events is unfortunate," Lord Mundi rumbled. "We"ll have to act immediately. Begin deploying the units."

The Count"s breath caught sharply in his chest. "My lord, are you sure?" He started ringing his hands. "I mean, I am sure your judgment is well-founded, but how shall we explain it to the Senate? How will they react to an illegal act of this magnitude?"

"They won"t," said Mundi, "because I will make it legal."

"Then, what about the Knights?"

He harrumphed. "The Chancellor should never have brought them into this. Dispose of them immediately."

Phrix swallowed and bowed. "Of course, my lord. As you wish."

As soon as the hologram disappeared, the Count of Bruges looked over at his panel of gunners. "Destroy the ship!" he barked. Then he turned to a lieutenant at the ship"s main computer. "Summon the Counts of Amsterdam, Antwerp, and Brussels to the command deck, and tell Strauss to send in a ghoul unit to take care of the ambassadors."

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