The Present

The maester took almost a fortnight to study the tome. He had the pull within the church to access the restricted records in the cathedral library, although his feeble health meant that he could work for only a few hours each day.

Ramiro kept himself amused in the taverns and brothels of the university district. Vero nearly went mad with restlessness.

The two of them decided to share a room while they waited. Vero was happy to have Ramiro pay half their bill, and Ramiro was pleased to be assured that he would not be dragged away by undead creatures during the night.

Vero slept in her clothes.

She spent most of her time studying and meditating in their room, but she often came out to share a mid-day meal with Ramiro. She did so again the day they were scheduled to hear the maester’s final report.

They ate beef and onions fried in lard, and seasoned with dill and parsley. Vero used the last of her excess coin to buy them an imported Velian red, but once that was finished, they drank cheap beer.

While they ate, Ramrio kept one of the local women on his lap, the one who offered herself to Vero the first night she arrived. He often consulted with her during their conversation, although neither he nor Vero could understand a word she said.

They all talked about nothing in particular, but Vero began to feel very relaxed from the drink, while Ramiro became more animated.

“Where do you come from really, Ramiro? One of the Oasis Cities, I expect. Given what a rascal you are.”

“Merilla in Lusitan, I told you that already. Slayers should…” He paused to collect his words. “…remember things…”

“Yes, but you’re a complete charlatan. A hopeless liar.”

“On matters of the heart I always speak true. And what greater love can a man hold in his breast, than the love of his homeland? I shall never forget sacred Lustian which gave me life.”

“I was near enough. That whole coastline was settled by sailors from the southern continent, even if no one likes to admit that now.”

“You are fortunate that I am not in the slightest part patriotic, or I’d take great offense. Well- if we were to quarrel, I’m quite certain you’d kill me, so perhaps it’s myself who is fortunate.”

“That’s often the way with patriotism,” Vero mused. “You’re not really the son of a nobleman, I know that much.”

“I might be. In fact, I haven’t the slightest idea who my father is- or was, as it may very well now be.”

“You never tried to find him?”

“To what end?”

Vero thought of her own parents, but only for a moment. “I don’t know. In stories bastards are always searching for their lost fathers- or so it seems to me.”

“In stories, their fathers are usually kings, or divine, or some such, and I’m very sure that if anyone like that had been in Merilla during my conception I would certainly have heard about it. And I loved my mother very dearly, but she wasn’t in the slightest bit miserly with the distribution of her charms. So, I doubt even she knew the identity of my father.”

“I see.”

“Afterall – and please don’t take this as some indictment of womankind, because I’m really quite fond of women – even if one isn’t a bastard, no one can ever be absolutely certain of who their father is. Not absolutely.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Promiscuity isn’t, of course, only a vice of the fairer sex. No man can ever be really certain of how many children he's fathered either. Except to put a minimum to it, I suppose.” He laughed jovially, and the woman on his lap laughed with him when she saw his mirth.

“Hmm,” Vero replied non-committally. She was beginning to feel drowsy from the drink.

“I can find one for you as well.”

Vero had become distracted by the wench’s ample bosom, which was only loosely held by her dress. “What are you talking about?”

“One of these.” Ramiro kissed the woman once on the lips, then again along the top of her chest. “A handsome lad like you, it won’t take long. You’ll have to pay something, of course.”

The alcohol made the idea sound better than it really was, but Vero cast it aside regardless. “Hm. No, thank-you.”

“Do you suppose mortal men like you or I will ever really understand them, Virgil?”

“Understand who?”

“Women, of course. What do you think of them?”

“I- think they are fair to look at… they tend to be of a gentler disposition… I’m not certain what you’re asking me.”

She spoke carefully to avoid saying anything too revealing. Something about how Ramiro spoke made her think that he was fishing for something. It gave her a hunch that he was more sober than he was pretending to be.

“You’re not a virgin are you, master slayer?”

Vero laughed into her beer. “Certainly not.”

“Good! I was worried your order required an oath of celibacy. I would hate to think of such beautiful lips going forever un-kissed. In fact, I don’t think I could stand it.”

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“Why did you come north, Ramiro? How long do you plan to stay here?”

“You're trying to avoid my questions with you own.”

“Am I? Which question do you mean?”

“Women. What do you think of them? Which type do you like best? Do you understand them? Because I surely don’t.”

“I need time to think. You answer my questions and I’ll think about yours.”

“As you wish. It’s quite simple really. I came north to avoid some hostile creditors.”

“They’re gone now, why have you stayed?”

“Ah, I wasn’t referring to the men you saved me from.”

“How many people want you dead, exactly?”

“Not all of them want me dead. Most would probably settle for having me beaten and robbed. But there are enough of them I thought it best to leave Lusitan. So, I decided to go someplace so desolate that no one would want the bother of coming to take their money back, and here I am. Now, you answer me.”

“I like them to have long hair and olive skin.”

“What color hair?”

“Black.”

“Eyes?”

“Blue, but shadowed with dark cosmetics.”

“Perfumed?”

“Oh yes, anything to cover the smell of garum.”

“Yes, that all sounds very fine. Now tell me, this woman with long dark hair, olive skin, blue eyes… smelling gently of fish- do you understand her? I mean really understand her? Do you know her heart? Have you looked into her soul and seen even a glimpse of what mysteries lie there?”

Vero finished her beer. “Not in the slightest.”

Ramiro laughed uproariously. “A man after my own heart. Say, shouldn’t we leave soon?”

“If we want to arrive before sundown, and we surely do.” Vero stood up and gave herself a moment for her lightheadedness to clear.

“That’s enough, my darling. I’ll be back for you this evening.” Ramiro lifted the wench off his lap. He stood up and took a few faltering steps before righting himself.

The woman helped him to the door and Vero followed after them. Ramiro kissed the fraulein good-bye and they stepped outside. The cold wind hit them and sobered Vero up at once. Ramiro shuddered and pulled his cloak tight, he looked to be in the same condition. They sloshed through the snow towards the maester’s home.

They traveled close together through the dark streets, and once more the maester’s mistress admitted them into the home. They found the maester in a much livelier state, so it seemed that having an occupation had done him some good, although his nose was still very red. He was sitting on his bed, but a small writing desk was pushed in front of him and the tome was sitting atop it.

“A very interesting work, this.” The maester tapped the cover of the book. “I should very much like to have a copy scribed for the cathedral archives.”

“If you know the location of the Von Richlau estate and the artifacts of my order, then I’ll have no further need for it. You may keep it, for your trouble.”

“You're very generous, master slayer. I do indeed believe I’ve found your missing landgrave. I’ve even commissioned you a map.” The maester spread out a freshly scribed map over the desk. The artistry left something to be desired, and it was covered in handwritten notes, but Vero believed that it should be legible with some effort. “Is it your intention to go there, may I ask?”

Vero nodded.

“I suppose you know your own business well enough, but I must in good conscience warn you- I do not know for certain why the Von Richlau’s vanished and their records were restricted, but I think there can only be only one possible explanation…” His expression was serious.

“I understand.”

“That place is high in the Star Mountains. Even on the day side of the mountains- vampyres pull travelers from the road for sport and all the villagers live in fear. In this interregnum there is no grand prince strong enough to force the undead back to the night side.”

“I thank-you for your concern, maester.” Vero took the map. “But it’s not as though it’s much safer here in the city.”

The maester nodded back to her, and his declared niece led them downstairs again. Vero stepped outside, back into the cold, and pulled her cloak more tightly around herself.

Ramiro followed her out. “I don’t think you ought to go.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve seen you fight- and I’ve never seen anything like it before. But it’s clear enough to me that the Von Richlaus have been corrupted by undead, and they’ll be ready for you. The great elector himself led a contingent of the finest knights in the north into the Star Mountains, and the vampyres hunted them like foxes until they finally withdrew. It was the only campaign Leopold ever lost in fifty-five years of rule.”

“Your concern is touching, Ramiro.”

“I mean it. I’m really very fond of you Virgil. Why don’t you let me take you some places in the student quarter? We’ll get drunk, and I’ll introduce you to some women, friendly women.”

“I leave first thing tomorrow. I need to get as much sleep as I can.”

“You’re an extraordinarily disciplined one. I admit, I find it one of your most appealing traits. You are certain I can’t tempt you to stay?”

“No.”

“Well, a man must have the final say in his own matters. I shall be in this city for some time, I think. If you come to your senses, I’ll keep a space on the bench open for you and we’ll tell all sorts of lies about the vampyre lords you’ve slain.”

They walked in silence until they approached the inn.

“I have a favor to ask you.” Vero opened the door into the stables, and then closed it behind them to keep out the biting wind.

“You saved my life, and I always pay my debts. Even if I must steal from someone else to do it.”

“Your sense of integrity is a great comfort to me.” Vero led them past the other horses to her chestnut mare. Papillon looked excited to see her and Vero started to brush the horse’s long hair as they spoke. “I’m leaving Papillon here; she won’t be much help in the mountains. Will you look after her while I’m gone, make certain she’s healthy and eating well?”

“Of course.” Ramiro sat down on an upturned bucket and watched her. “You’re very fond of her.”

Vero did not reply to Ramiro. She whispered her good-byes to Papillon and spent a long time brushing her before she was finished.

Her saddle was hanging nearby and Vero gestured towards it. “There are two letters with the saddle. If I don’t come back…”

“It doesn’t bear thinking about.”

“If I don’t come back-” Vero continued, “-the first is for a girl-”

“A petite amour? One with raven hair and olive skin?”

“She’s a prostitute named Theodora- she may be difficult to find. I marked the inn where I left her on the letter, but if she’s moved on…”

“I've never failed to locate a prostitute in the past, and I certainly shan’t now.”

“The second is for- take it to the house of the Marquis de Fer… they’ll know what to do with it.”

“How mysterious. Another woman? Of higher birth perhaps? One who uses paints to darken her eyes and fragrances to cover the scent of fish?”

Vero did not feel obligated to answer. “You may keep Papillon as well- only if I don’t return… and only if you swear to take good care of her.”

Ramiro placed a hand over his heart. “I do so swear, before any god or daemon who wills to listen.”

“I’m serious, Ramiro.”

“Are you? I’m not.” He rose to his feet. “But only because I’m certain you will be well. I haven’t doubted it for… ah, well, I’ve had some doubts of course- but I’ve never had a sustained doubt that lasted longer than a moment.”

“Ramiro.”

“No worries, Virgil. I won’t let you down… only I think you’re more handsome with a smile, don’t you?”

“I don’t know, I can’t see myself.”

“It’s true, I’m sure those pretty girls you wrote those letters to agree with me. Wouldn’t you like me to tell them that the last time I saw you, that you spoke about them to me and smiled? I won’t mention the other letter to either of them of course, I’m a man of discretion.”

Vero smirked for just a moment.

“There it is. Promise me you’ll come back to us, all three of us?”

“I can’t”

“Why not? It would bring me some comfort. And even if it is a lie, it isn’t as though you’ll be in a position to receive any harsh words for it.”

Vero smiled again, but wistfully, rather than with humor. “That’s just not my way. I’ll be gone before you wake tomorrow. Good-bye, Ramiro.”

And she left the stable.