Chapter Fourteen
Fourteen
WE DIDN’T SPEAK OF the Queen again, but when Raleigh surprised me several days later by announcing over breakfast that Sovereign had returned to the castle stables, I knew it was his way of apologising. It was an atonement I didn’t deserve, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t delighted.
‘That was reckless,’ I said. I tried not to picture what might have happened if Raleigh had been caught returning to Orlfen. But he only shrugged.
‘Moira’s the reckless one.’
Moira, who had been pouring my tea, scowled at Raleigh. ‘I didn’t steal her. I paid Juri off. That man will do anything for a few thaler.’
I would have argued against this once, but now I felt no desire to defend my father. If he wanted to sell his daughter’s beloved horse to a stranger with a full purse, it only helped shape the new image I was building of him.
‘You’re welcome to ride her whenever you see fit, so long as you’re careful.’ Raleigh swirled the liquid in his goblet. ‘There are wolves in the forest.’
I couldn’t tell if that was a warning or a threat. ‘Could I go to Orlfen?’ I asked, watching for Raleigh’s reaction.
He very carefully gave none. ‘If you wish,’ he said, not quite meeting my eye.
I pushed out a breath, unsure what to do with this new-found trust he had in me.
‘I have no intention of going back to Orlfen again,’ I admitted before the awkwardness could stretch any longer.
My last visit hadn’t exactly endeared me to my hometown, and the longer I could delay having to see Father or Yann again the better.
Raleigh’s smile returned. ‘But our last visit went so well.’
‘Well enough that I’d rather it remain a one-off,’ I said, trying to match the sardonic lilt to his words. ‘But I thought I might like to visit Triz.’
Triz was the closest thing Rostenburg had to a true city.
It was carved into a mountainside a three-hour ride south of Castle Rostenburg.
Its beauty had once drawn in travellers from all over the continent, but now it floundered under the same three hundred years of princely neglect as the rest of the state.
‘What’s in Triz?’ Raleigh asked.
I shrugged, unable to tell him the truth. ‘I’ve not been in years, I’d like to see it again. Father used to take me with him on the days he went to market.’
‘You were with him?’ Raleigh asked incredulously.
Where was this surprise coming from? I picked over what I’d told him, searching for something out of the ordinary. Had I slipped up? Let him know my true intentions?
‘It was before … Father would take me with him when Mother was sick.’ I didn’t want to explain my mother’s melancholy to him, the days and weeks she wouldn’t rise from bed in the lead-up to her death. ‘I’ve not been back since the famine. I want to see if it’s the same as I remember.’
This seemed to placate him, but I didn’t know what had done the trick.
Everything I’d said about my father was the truth.
I did want to see Triz again and learn how it had fared through the famine.
But Triz also had a cathedral and, while Orlfen’s priest had never been replaced after his untimely death, I suspected any Rostenburg priest would have enough knowledge on the occult to help me sift through the facts and fiction of my research. I had questions I couldn’t ask Raleigh.
I needed help to kill a vampire.
Raleigh found me a map and a purse full of gulden that ‘would be enough to buy myself some lunch if I wanted it’ but realistically could have bought an entire restaurant, building included, and likely the building next to it too.
He never raised the issue of a chaperone, which I was glad for.
Moira would only report back, and my relationship with Enrique had barely progressed beyond curt nods on the rare occasions we passed each other in the halls.
I set off for Triz early the following day, feeling freer than I had in months, and reached the city by late morning.
The winding streets were exactly as I remembered.
Only the occasional home had its windows boarded, and fewer still had garlic hanging from the eaves.
The people I passed nodded their hellos without a trace of suspicion.
They were thin, but not gaunt. Perhaps not thriving, but certainly surviving.
I wondered if they would still smile if they knew who I was.
The cathedral was perched on a plateau above the city, reachable only via a series of steep stairways carved into the stone.
I found a post where I could tie Sovereign at the base of the first staircase and hiked the remaining distance on foot, grateful for the distraction.
I didn’t know what sort of reception awaited me at the top, what sort of reputation Raleigh had here.
Had I arrived at Orlfen as a stranger and declared myself the prince’s betrothed I would have been chased out with pitchforks, and I wasn’t particularly optimistic that it would be any different here.
I was out of breath by the time I reached the cathedral.
Inside, amidst the cloying musk of centuries of worship, I found a woman dusting the altar.
Keeping my voice hushed, I asked who I might speak to on an occult matter.
She didn’t bother to feign surprise. ‘You’ll need to speak to Father Leon.
He’s usually in the gardens at this time of day.
’ She directed me to a private yard behind the main chapel, which I found to be full of grapevines covered in tiny berries.
I discovered Father Leon crouched between the vines, filling a basket with weeds. He was a squat little man, with watery eyes and loose skin, not much older than my father. He frowned when he saw me, tugging off his muddy gloves.
‘You’re not Clara Wagner, are you?’
‘You know me?’ I asked in surprise.
He tapped his temple. ‘Never forget a face. You used to come here with your father when you were this high.’ He gestured somewhere around his waist.
‘I don’t remember you,’ I admitted.
‘Well, you were young. And I’ve seen your father since, of course. Helps keep the memory fresh.’ He looked over my shoulder, as though expecting to see my father waiting. ‘You came alone?’
I mustered my most innocent smile. ‘The roads are safe at this time of day.’
‘Aye, you wouldn’t want to be travelling after dark. Though I’m surprised your betrothed allowed you to travel so far unchaperoned.’
My heart sank. ‘You’ve heard the news, then?’
‘Of course!’ Father Leon held his arms out to better emphasise his cheer.
‘There’s been quite a heated debate among the clergy over whether we’ll be hosting the royal wedding in our humble chapel, though I’d wager His Serene Highness would opt for something less public.
’ He paused. ‘Unless that’s why you’re here.
Tell me it’s not. Don’t tell’—he pointed upwards, mouthing Him—‘but I have money on it being a private affair.’
I wasn’t sure what to say. No one had ever expressed excitement over our engagement before. ‘We haven’t discussed the particulars,’ I said evasively. I wasn’t about to tell him that Raleigh would sooner return to court than set foot in a cathedral.
‘I knew it. He’s not a God-fearing man, that Linford.’ For a priest, Father Leon looked far too delighted by that idea. ‘Then what brings you to Triz, my dear?’
I took a breath. ‘I need a weapon that can kill a vampire.’
Father Leon’s expression barely shifted. ‘So no wedding, I assume?’
I held the look he gave me, not giving him any reaction he might interpret as confirmation to his true question. ‘Someone else.’
‘Good.’ The priest let out a breath. ‘Prince Raleigh has been a blessing in these times, and it seems he’s given us a fraction of what he offers Orlfen.’
I frowned. I couldn’t think of a single thing Raleigh had offered Orlfen other than a dammed river and a decade of death.
Perhaps he had Orlfen confused with one of the border towns; I wouldn’t have been surprised if Raleigh had put extra resources into keeping them prosperous to prevent questions from the other side of the border.
Father Leon must have misread my confusion, because he added, ‘The rest of the clergy think it’s folk superstition, but you don’t have to pretend it’s a secret with me.’
‘You don’t mind?’ Of all the people who I thought might turn a blind eye to Raleigh’s nature, I never imagined it would be someone from the church.
‘I know enough about demons to know there are worse ones out there than the prince. He looks after us and keeps the others like him at bay. For that we have to be grateful. So.’ He raised his brows. ‘If it isn’t him, who are you looking to kill?’
‘I think it would be better if I didn’t say,’ I said.
‘Wise. Follow me.’ He led me through the cathedral grounds, speaking in hushed tones as he went.
‘No one here has training in these sorts of matters, I’m afraid.
If you need a demon exorcised I’m your man, but anything more corporeal is out of the church’s hands.
There used to be a family down the hill who called themselves hunters, long after Vienna outlawed vampire hunting.
Used to take care of anything that found its way into the valley before Linford took residence on the hill, but they all died shortly after he returned. ’
‘Raleigh killed them?’ My voice caught in my throat.
‘That’s one theory.’ We stepped into a stone staircase leading to the depths of the cathedral. The temperature began to descend as we did, the chilled air almost damp on my skin. ‘Though there was one survivor who insists otherwise.’
So there was still a hunter in Europe. Raleigh was wrong. ‘Where can I find him?’
Father Leon looked bemused. ‘Not in Triz,’ he said slowly.
‘That’s not very helpful.’
‘No,’ he said, chuckling deeply. ‘But this might be.’