🚀 go-pugleaf

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                               BLOOD SEASON
                     The Origin of Chalandra Harkness

                           Chapter Three of Five
                                 "Asking"
                                    by
                               Gary W. Olson


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     When Chalandra awoke, she was in her own bed.  Warm air blew in from
the open balcony door, across her body, which lay atop the covers.  It
gently pushed at her, bringing her back to herself again.  But her body
refused to respond.
     Chalandra felt drained, not just of a portion of her blood, but of a
portion of the tension that had built up inside her ever since her mother
had told her that she was engaged to the Baron Joseph of Phoot.  It was the
tranquil peace of waking up after a long sleep, and Chalandra wanted to
keep still, to keep the feeling for as long as she could.
     He had made love to her, during the night, and she had responded with
an intensity that seemed unreal in the early sunrise.  The more he took from
her, the more she wanted from him, and the more he was able to give.  She
remembered what he told her, as they rested on the roof of the uppermost tower
of the Palace, about how blood muted the ability of the body to perceive
pleasure and pain, and how male vampires could maintain their tumescence for
an entire night, given a supply of fresh, human blood.
     They had danced across the rooftops of London that night, unseen by
mortal eyes, save for Chalandra's.  The night was as still as a cemetary,
and quiet as starlight, and time seemed to have stopped in its course.
     Only it hadn't, of course.  The Count left her at her balcony and
headed back to the Baron's villa, to get to his resting place before the
sun rose.  Chalandra had watched him as he disappeared, then wandered to her
bed and fell upon it.
     She brushed her fingertips against her neck, and found the holes, small
and nearly bloodless.  He had been careful not to tear her skin more than he
had to, and had somehow shut down the flow of blood after he had finished.
     The door was opening, in the other room.  Chalandra forced her body to
move, to pull down the covers so that she could slip between them.  She
was part-way underneath when the voice stopped her.
     "It's all right, Chalandra," Belim said.  "It's me."
     Belim walked in, and Chalandra relaxed slightly, even though she felt
as if she were blushing.  Belim stopped by her bedside, and looked at the
small holes in the side of her neck.
     "He did a good job," she said, at last.  "It shouldn't be difficult to
conceal."
     "Conceal...oh, yes," Chalandra said.  "I hadn't thought..."
     "Your bath is drawn," Belim told her, sounding almost businesslike.
"You won't have time to enjoy it, today.  May has been asking for you."
     "May...oh, God," Chalandra groaned.  "How will I explain how I got
home?"
     "The Baron's driver, Waits, brought you home late, after May had gone
to bed," Belim told her, as she helped Chalandra up.  "I escorted you to
your rooms, and saw that you were tucked into bed, as always."
     "But, did Waits..."
     "Waits did stop here," Belim said.  "He explained, and I agreed to the
deception."
     "How did he know to seek you out?"
     "He didn't," Belim said.  "But after I told him what I knew, he was
amenable."
     "The Baron showed no knowledge of the Count's true nature," Chalandra
said.  "Though perhaps he was just pretending.  He couldn't be that naive."
     "The Baron is a man of excesses," Belim answered.  "Not the least of
which is an excess of gullibility.  Dracula uses this as he operates in
London.
     "Now, out of bed.  I don't think your mother wants to wait very long."
     "I suppose not," Chalandra said, as she threw aside the covers and
stood.  "What about the woman?  Has there been any change with her?"
     Belim paused.
     "Tell me, Belim," Chalandra said.
     "She is awake," Belim replied.  "I believe she awoke late last night,
though I did not discover this until the morning.  She is in the guest
room."
     "I should go see her," Chalandra decided.
     "After breakfast," Belim corrected.
     "After breakfast."

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     "So how was he?" Cassandra asked, barely able to keep a grin off of
her young face.
     "The Baron?" Chalandra replied.  "He was a gentleman...mostly."
     "Too bad," Cassandra whispered.  "All that time over there for nothing."
     Chalandra glared at her younger sister, who responded by giggling.  It
stopped, almost immediately, as her mother entered the room.  Chalandra
watched her mother's face, trying to guage what she was thinking.  The task
was almost impossible, like always.
     Belim set her mother's breakfast in front of her, and poured her tea,
before retreating from the scene.  May took a long sip of her tea, before
speaking.
     "Do you realize the hour you came in, last night?"
     Chalandra opened her mouth to sleep, but May answered it for her.
     "Almost midnight!"
     Bertrand Harkness, her father, entered the room, apparently without
having heard May's last comment.  He was in his business attire, and smiled
at Chalandra and Cassandra, in lieu of actual greeting.
     "I'll be gone most of the day, dear," he said without preamble.  Louis
XII's cheif advisor is meeting with me today.  With luck, I should win
permission to open additional trade routes into France, and beyond."
     He was gone again, moments later, adjusting his collar as he moved.
Chalandra adjusted her collar as well, surreptitiously touching the pinprick-
sized holes on the left side of her neck.  They tingled slightly, and
Chalandra put her hand down, as May looked back at her.
     "Do you have an explanation, young lady?" she asked, as though nothing
had interrupted her.
     "After dinner," Chalandra answered, "The Count, the Baron, and I
adjourned to a sitting room, where we discussed philosophy and literature.
The Baron had become a bit inebriated, and so did not realize the lateness
of the hour.  The Count summoned Waits, and had me brought home."
     "Well, I'm glad to hear you are warming towards him," May said.  The
sound of her voice told Chalandra that she didn't believe a word of it, but
she was prepared to let her get away with the lie.
     Chalandra finished her biscuits, and sipped some of her tea.  It stung
her tongue, which was a surprise, since Belim's tea was not usually too hot.
Carefully, she sipped more.
     "Our visitor awoke last night," May said.  "I expect Belim already told
you."
     "She did," Chalandra said.  "I was going to go up to see her after
breakfast."
     "See that you do," May said.  "She wouldn't say two words to me."
     This surprised Chalandra.  Typically, the more one tried to ignore her
mother, when she wanted something, the more her mother would press.  Yet,
she seemed ambivalent, almost scared, of the visitor, though anyone except
Chalandra would be hard-pressed to detect it.
     She finished her breakfast in silence, and was excused by May.  The
house seemed closed in, despite its size.  Chalandra could smell the dust as
she ascended the ornate staircase to the upper level.
     At the top, she met Mandrake.
     He had been waiting for her, she guessed, though it appeared that he
was about to descend to breakfast, with Becca by his side.  Becca smiled,
slightly, when she saw Chalandra, but didn't say a word.  Mandrake didn't
spare a glance at Becca as he addressed his sister.
     "Ah, there you are," he said.  "I was worried I had already missed you."
     "I just finished breakfast," Chalandra told him.  "May's down there
now."
     "I had hoped to talk with you last night, but you were at the Baron's
villa until quite late," Mandrake said, smiling a tight, patronizing smile.
"I wanted to apologize for how I have been behaving, these past weeks."
     "Had you stayed up until midnight, you could have talked to me then,"
Chalandra said, as she began to move past him.
     "But I did," Mandrake said.  Despite herself, Chalandra froze.  "I
saw the coach pull up, and Belim go out to talk to the driver."  He paused,
and his voice grew quieter, and less circumspect.  "I also saw Belim re-
enter the house...alone."
     "You must be mistaken," Chalandra managed to say.
     "My eyes do not lie," Mandrake said.  "I find it to be an interesting
mystery, how you arrived here in time for breakfast with your mother."
     "I'm not interested in the mysteries your mind conjures up," Chalandra
said.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, our guest has awoken..."
     "Ah, our little not-a-Seraphim," Mandrake said.  "I haven't talked to
her, but I understand mother has.  I also understand she has learned little
about her."  He leaned forward, a corner of his mouth curled upward in a
cynical smirk.  "Was she a good lover, sister?  What did she promise you?"
     Chalandra stepped back.  "You're mad."
     "Mandrake..." Becca said, quietly.
     "The woman in that room is an agent of the devil, a vampire," Mandrake
said.  "She stole you from the Baron's villa last night, forcing his
driver to cover for the Baron.  She seduced you, and drained your blood."
He stepped forward.  "It's true, isn't it?"
     "Have you seen her, this morning?"
     "I don't need to see her to know the truth," Mandrake said.
     "Well, then, you won't mind taking a look, then?" Chalandra asked.  She
was already moving towards the door to the guest rooms, turning the knob.  The
door pushed inward, and Chalandra, Mandrake, and Becca peered in.
     The bed was empty, and unmade.  Beyond it, the balcony door was open,
and sunlight was streaming in.
     The woman was standing on the balcony, in a thin, white nightgown, the
sunlight reflecting on her pale skin, forming a slight aura around her.
As she turned to face them, Chalandra could swear she looked like a saint.
     "Good morning," she said, weakly.  "Nice day, isn't it?"

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     Chalandra shut the door, after watching Mandrake and Becca descend the
staircase.  After having seen his 'vampire' walking in the sunlight, he
had had nothing more to say, though he retracted nothing of his accusation.
He wouldn't say anything to May - she had laid down the law to him when
he and Chalandra had first brought her in, and he knew better than to cause
trouble after the excoriation she had given him the morning after he had
brought the woman in.
     But he would tell someone.  And Chalandra knew exactly who.  But that
was a problem that had to be set aside.
     The woman had turned back to looking out from the balcony.  Her black
hair caught the wind for a moment, before falling back to just below her
shoulders.  Chalandra stepped out onto the balcony, and observed the city
as it drifted out of the morning mist, which was rather light, for that
morning.
     "So," Chalandra said, as though a prompt was all that was needed.
     "So," the woman replied.
     "What do I call you?" Chalandra asked.  "You already seem to know my
name."
     The woman didn't reply, though it seemed that she wanted to.  Instead,
she turned, and took a step towards her room.  Her knees buckled, and she
nearly fell.  Chalandra caught her arm, and helped her up.
     "Thank you," she said.  "I'm still very weak.  But...I had to see the
sunlight."  Chalandra nodded, and helped the woman back inside.  After
the woman got back into bed, Chalandra pulled up a chair and sat.
     "You still haven't answered my question," Chalandra said.
     "I can't," the woman said, after a pause.
     "You don't remember?" Chalandra inquired, wondering if the fall had
given her amnesia.
     "I remember," the woman said.  "I just can't tell you.  The consequences
would be...very bad."
     "I suppose you can't tell me how you knew my name for the same reason,"
Chalandra said, a note of sarcasm creeping into her voice.  The woman nodded,
her face saddening a bit.  "Sorry," Chalandra said.  "Didn't mean to snap
at you."
     "It's all right," the woman answered.  "This is...difficult...for me,
as well."
     "What *can* you tell me?" Chalandra asked.
     "Not much," she said.  "You saw my fall?"
     "Barely," Chalandra admitted.  "The sky split, there was a scream, and
we saw something falling in the distance.  My brother, Mandrake, initially
thought you were a member of the Seraphim, cast down by God."  The woman
laughed, albeit with little force, at this notion.
     "Few would confuse me with any sort of angel," she said.  "I am human.
At least, I started out that way.  I was travelling with friends, when
an accident occured.  I was seperated from them, and fell to the ground
where you found me."  She looked at Chalandra, expecting disbelief.
     "They must be some friends, to travel across the sky like that,"
Chalandra said.  "Were they magicians?"
     The woman blinked.
     "You could say that," she said, at last.
     "Belim has told me about practicioners of magic," Chalandra said.  "I
don't know how much of what she says is real, and how much is her own
superstition.  But I'm willing to believe, for now, at least."
     She nodded, and seemed to relax a bit.
     "What happened to your friends?" Chalandra asked.  "Why couldn't they
come back to you?"
     "Their...coach...was out of control," the woman said.  "I believe
they crashed somewhere on the continent."
     "Do you know if they survived?"
     The woman closed her eyes.  At last, she nodded.
     "They are alive," she said.  "Once they repair their coach, they shall
come for me."  She closed her eyes again.  "I would go to them, but I'm
too weak.  It was an effort just to walk to the balcony."
     "Do you need blood?" Chalandra asked.  The woman's eyes opened quickly,
and stared at Chalandra.  "I saw your teeth," Chalandra told her.  "I haven't
told anybody, though Belim probably knows."
     "Belim..." the woman said.  "She was the mulatto servant who came in
this morning?"
     "Yes," Chalandra said.  "My only ally in this household, except for
my sister, Cassandra.  I don't know what I would do without her covering for
me..."  She stopped, as she saw the woman looking at her neck.  Looking
down, she saw that her collar had slipped, exposing the fang marks on her
neck.
     "So, it's begun," the woman said.  "Dracula has begun to turn you."
     Chalandra stood, and crossed over to the bed.  The woman backed up,
surprised by the sudden move.
     "What do you know?" Chalandra asked, forcing a sense of menace she
didn't feel into her voice.  It wasn't enough to fool the woman.
     "I know," she said.  "That's all I can say."
     Chalandra looked at her again, and knew why her mother refused to press
her guest.  The skin around the eyes was young, but the eyes themselves
felt ancient.  Not ancient in the way Dracula's eyes felt, but ancient in
pain, and experience, and knowledge.
     She turned, and walked towards the door, not looking back at the woman.
It wasn't until Chalandra was safely on the other side of the door that she
let herself start shaking.

(continued in part two, following...)

+-------- Gary W. Olson --------+        "All roads lead *away* from Ankh-
| swede@drycas.club.cc.cmu.edu  |         Morpork, but sometimes people just
+----- swede@drycas.bitnet -----+         walk along them the wrong way."
                                          - Terry Pratchett, _Moving_Pictures_