The War Hound And The World's Pain Part 2

I sheathed my pistol and turned my horse towards the castle.

I had taken my first decisive step towards h.e.l.l.

Chapter II.

I GAVE THE lady my arm and escorted her through her courtyard, up the steps and into her castle, while her horrid servants took horse and coach to the stables. Curiosity had me trapped.

l.u.s.t, half-appreciated as yet, also had me trapped.

I thought to myself with a certain relish that I was, all in all, thoroughly snared. And at that moment! did not care.

"I am Ulrich von Bek, son of the Graf von Bek," I told her. "I am a Captain of Infantry in the present struggle."

Her perfume was as warm and lulling as summer roses. "On whose side?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Whichever is the better organised and less divided."

"You have no strong religious beliefs, then?"

"None."

I added: "Is that unusual for men of my kind in times like these?"

"Not at all. Not at all." She seemed quietly amused.

She took off her own cloak. She was almost as tall as I and wonderfully formed. For all that she gave the impression of possessing a strong and perhaps even eccentric will, there 30.

was yet a softness about her now which suggested to me that she was presently defeated by her circ.u.mstances.

"I am Sabrina," she said, and gave no t.i.tle or family name.

"This is your castle, Lady Sabrina?"

"I often reside here." She was noncommittal.

It could be that she was reluctant to discuss her family. Or perhaps she was the mistress of the powerful prince I had originally guessed as owner. Perhaps she had been exiled here for some appalling crime. Perhaps she had been sent here by her husband or some other relative to avoid the vicissitudes either of love or of war. From tact I could ask her no other questions on the matter.

She laid a fair hand upon my arm. "You will eat with me, Captain von Bek?"

"I do not relish eating in the presence of your servants, madam."

"No need. I'll prepare the food myself later. They are not permitted to enter these quarters. They have their own barracks in the far tower."

I had seen the barracks. They did not seem large enough for so many.

"How long have you been here?" She glanced about the hall as we entered it.

"A week or two."

"You kept it in good order."

"It was not my intention to loot the place, Lady Sabrina, but to use it as a temporary refuge. How long has your home been empty?"

She waved a vague hand. "Oh, some little while. Why do you ask?"

"Everything was so well-preserved. So free of vermin. Of dust, even."

"Ah. We do not have much trouble of that kind."

"No damp. No rot."

"None visible," she said. She seemed to become impatient with my remarks.

"I remain grateful for the shelter," 1 said, to end this theme.

"You are welcome." Her voice became a little distant. She frowned. "The soldiers delayed us."

"How so?"31."On the road." She gestured. "Back there."

"You were attacked?"

"Pursued for a while. Chased." Her finger sought dust on a chest and found none. She seemed to be considering my recent remarks. "They fear us, of course. But there were so many of them." She smiled, displaying white, even teeth. She spoke as if I would understand and sympathise. As if I were a comrade.

All I could do was nod.

"I cannot blame them," she continued. "I cannot blame any of them." She sighed. Her dark eyes clouded, became in-turned, dreamy. "But you are here. And that is good."

I should have found her manner disturbing, but at the time I found it captivating. She spoke as if I had been expected, as if she were a poor hostess who, delayed abroad, returns to discover an unattended guest.

I offered some formal compliment to her beauty and grace. She smiled a little, accepting it as one who was very used to such remarks, who perhaps even regarded them as the opening feints in an emotional duel. I recognised her expression. It caused me to become just a little more remote, a little more guarded. She was a gameswoman, I thought, trained by one or more masters in the terrible, cold art of intellectual coquetry. I found the woman too interesting to wish to give her a match, so I changed the subject back to my original reason for accepting her invitation.

"You have promised to explain the castle's mysteries," I said. "And why there is no animal life in these parts."

"It is true," she said. "There is none."

"You have agreed with me, madam," I said gently, "but you have not explained anything to me."

Her tone became a shade brusque. "I promised you an explanation, did 1 not, sir?"

"Indeed, you did."

"And an explanation will be forthcoming."

I was not, in those days, a man to be brushed off with insubstantial rea.s.surances. "I'm a soldier, madam. I had intended to be on my way south by now. You will recall that I returned here at your invitationand because of your promise. Soldiers are an impatient breed."

She seemed just a fraction agitated by my remark, pushing at her long hair, touching her cheek. Her words were rapid and they stumbled. She said: "No soulthat is no free soul, however smallcan exist here."

This was not good enough for me, although I was intrigued. "I do not follow you, madam," I said with deliberate firmness. "You are obscure. I am used to action and simple facts. From those simple facts I am able to determine what action I should take."

"I do not wish to confuse you, sir." She appealed to me, but I refused to respond to her.

I sighed. "What do you mean when you say that no soul can exist here?"

She hesitated. "Nothing which belongs," she said, "to G.o.d."

"Belongs? To G.o.d? The forest, surely . . . ?"

"The forest lies upon the"she made a baffled gesture "upon the borders."

"I still do not understand."

She controlled herself, returning my stare. "Neither should you," she said.

"I am not much impressed by metaphysics." I was becoming angry. Such abstract debate had caused our present woes. "Are you suggesting that some son of plague once infested this land? Is that why both men and beasts avoid it?"

She made no reply.

I continued: "Your servants, after all, suffer from disease. Could they be suffering from an infection local to this area?"

"Their souls" she began again.

I interrupted. "The same abstraction . . ."

"I do my best, sir," she said.

"Madam, you offer me no facts."

"I have offered you facts, as I understand them. It is hard . . ."

"You speak of a sickness, in truth. Do you not? You are afraid that if you name it, I shall become nervous, that you will drive me away."

"If you like," she said.

"I am afraid of very little, though I must admit to a certain caution where the Plague is concerned. On the other hand I have reason to believe that I am one of those lucky souls apparently immune to the Plague, so you must know that I shall not immediately run quaking from this place. Tell me. Is it a sickness of which you speak?"

33."Aye," she said, as if tired, as if willing to agree to almost any definition I provided. "It could be as you say."

"But you are untouched." I moved a pace towards her. "And I."

She became silent. Was I to think, I wondered, that the signs of that horrible sickness which possessed her servants had not yet manifested themselves in us? I shuddered.

"How long have you lived at the castle?" I asked.

"I am here only from time to time."

This answer suggested to me that perhaps she was immune. If she were immune, then so, perhaps, was I. With that consideration I relaxed more.

She seated herself upon a couch. Sunlight poured through stained gla.s.s representing Diana at the hunt. It was only then that I realised not a single Christian scene existed here, no crucifix, no representations of Jesus or the saints. Tapestries, gla.s.s, statuary and decoration were all pagan in subject.

"How old is this castle?" I stood before the window, running my fingers over the lead.

"Very old, I think. Several centuries, at least."

"It has been well-maintained."

She knew that my questions were not innocent or casual. I was seeking further knowledge of the estate and the mysterious sickness which haunted it.

"True," she said.

I sensed a new kind of tension. I turned.

She went from that room into the next and came back with wine for us. As she handed me my cup I observed that she did not wear a marriage ring. "You have no lord, madam?"

"I have a lord," she said, and she stared back into my eyes as if I had challenged her. Then, seeing my question to be fairly innocent, she shrugged. "Yes, I have a lord, captain."

"But this is not your family property."

"Oh, well. Family?" She began to smile very strangely, then controlled her features. "The castle is my master's, and has been his for many years."

"Not always his, however?"

"No. He won it, I believe."

"Spoils of war?"

She shook her head. "A gambling debt."

34."Your master is a gambler, eh? And plays for good-sized stakes. Does he partic.i.p.ate in our War?"

"Oh, yes." Her manner changed again. She became brisk. "I'll not be cryptic with you, Captain von Bek." She smiled; a hint, once more, of helplessness. "On the other hand it does not suit me to pursue this conversation further at present."

"Please forgive my rudeness." I think that I sounded cold.

"You are direct, captain, but not rude." She spoke quietly. "For a man who has doubtless seen and done so much in the matter of war you seem to retain a fair share of grace."

1 touched the cup to my lipshalf a toast to her own good manners. "I am astonished that you should think so. Yet, in comparison with your servants, I suppose I must seem better than I am ..."

She laughed. Her skin appeared to glow. I smelled roses. I felt as if the heat of the sun were upon me in that room. I knew that I desired Sabrina as I had desired no one or nothing else in all my life. Yet my caution maintained distance. Far that moment I was content merely to experience those sensations (which I had not experienced in many years of soldiering) and not attempt fulfillment.

"How did you come by your servants?" I sipped my wine. It tasted better than any of the other vintages I had sampled here. It increased the impression that all my senses were coming alive again at once.

She pursed her lips before replying. Then: "They are pensioners, you might say, of my master."