Continue The Story: It Was a Dark and Stormy night.

EXCERPT from Eason’s Journal
26 MAY 1935

We boarded the train headed from Zurich to Salzburg, Austria, this morning, after leaving the chalet as dawn arrived. Marcelle and Alfred bade each other a tight-throated goodbye on the stairs, as Gunther and I wrestled the bags down to the waiting car. Percilla stood apart from everyone, watching the sunrise. Contessa appeared, a light bag her only luggage, slung over one shoulder. Both she and Percilla are already dressing as women do in eastern Europe: a peasant skirt, a loose shirt, sturdy-looking boots, and in Percilla’s case, a shawl draped about her shoulders to keep the morning chill away. Contessa wore no shawl, her shirt partially unbuttoned, totally uncaring of the effect she might have on men who might ogle her.

At Gunther’s insistence, we are now all armed, at all times. Percilla has her Derringer tucked away in a bag, easily accessible; my own pistols are near at hand, the Webley in the luggage, but the American piece in the pocket of my coat, and a stout blade Gunther selected for me in Paris; Marcelle’s hand will occasionally stray to the revolver I know he carries; and I don’t know how she does it, but Contessa is armed with at least five different knives by my count, somehow concealed all about her person. Gunther himself is an arsenal. One of his travel bags is nothing but a small armory, including several pistols and revolvers, a rifle, and a shotgun with the barrel hacked off, and ammunition for each. His Gurkha knife is always present.

We were shuttled to the train station by members of the Zurich enclave. Jean-Marie insisted on conducting us personally; his gratitude for my alerting him in Bern, I believe. The train left the station, and moved along, even now, without hindrance. We shall be in Salzburg tomorrow, then Vienna, then Budapest the day after. I am not making myself think beyond the next stage of the journey, let the trains deal with that for now. My concentration is all on the lessons with which Gunther is pacing Cilla and I. Sure enough, after testing her once more, this “traveling” power is most amazing. Cilla demonstrated the ability to see anywhere in the train, several cars ahead and behind, looking into the engine and the baggage car. Cilla’s excitement at this new power is infectious, and warming.

Warming – I must here write my thoughts again. Cilla used the traveling power to watch Katerina and I. I can’t help but think about it – her – in fact, I think of her more than before. Such a formidable woman, the Elder. I can see more and more of the stunning beauty that must have been hers in her youth, or even in just younger days. She was so sad, and then so moved, when we talked, and I held her. But the kiss… that was not the kiss of an old woman. Women have kissed me in my time, and Cilla the most desired kiss of all, until now. I find myself feeling something – that I didn’t want the Elder’s kiss to end. At least, not end at a kiss.

DIARY OF PERCILLA ST. CYR

May 26th, 1935
Somewhere in Austria

Trains are getting to be a common thing with me. I had not traveled much by train, up until now – I feel as though I’m getting accustomed to the rocking of the car, the sounds and the motions as we roll along the lands and the tracks.

Our party now occupies two compartments, the men in one, and Contessa and I in the other. Contessa is an animated speaker, a storyteller and an uncommon adventurer. She explains to me that, though she is not a Knight-Commander, her work for the Order takes her to many places. Her features and her knowledge of language – she claims to speak English, French, Italian, and to my surprise, Romanian – make her an effective field agent, able to blend into any place she goes.

“I am a special agent of the Rome enclave, not in charge of anything or anyone beyond myself”, Contessa explained as we were changing for dinner in the club car. “It allows me a great deal of freedom of movement, and I am frequently asked to be a courier, or to perform such missions as require stealth.” As she changed into something more formal for dinner, I must have started staring, as she laughed a deep chuckle. Contessa’s body, full and voluptuous, for which any man would gape in desire, was a mass of cuts and scars along her arms and thighs. One ugly wheal traversed her midriff, and patches of shiny skin showed the marks of fire.

“Yes, Percilla bella, I have ‘been through the mill’, as the saying goes, haven’t I?” she said grinning. “Knife and sword marks, most of them. This one, probably the worst of them all,” she said, tracing the scar across her tight-muscled stomach. “A scimitar did this one, its owner trying to make of me a gutted fish. He no longer breathes, of course…”

“Dare I ask,” I said, “if you have had to encounter… the Enemy?”

Contessa’s face darkened a bit, before she answered. “Yes, I have. I understand you have, as well. Tell me, you felt it? The feeling They send out before Their arrival?”

I thought back to that horrible morning in Bern. “Yes, that feeling I was being watched. Kind of like a wave of fear, or looking at something disgusting...”

“Yes”, Contessa agreed. “Completely unnatural, and out of place. The revenant, of which you saw, is a violation of nature, and of the child who must die for it to walk. But only less terrible are the ones that aren’t children. Yes, Percilla,” she said, seeing my reaction, “the revenants can be older, as well, and relentless pursuers they can be. And they know how to use weapons, as well as their own foul selves.” And Contessa moved closer, speaking seriously.

“Learn all you can from Gunther, Lady St. Cyr. He is not holding the title of Knight-Commander as a ceremony. You have seen and heard of his deeds, and he has taught you much. He can and wants to teach you more. All I can say here, and no more for now, is that the Order has great hopes for you, and great plans for the future.”

The train bearing the expedition rolled on through the Alpine night, twisting down the valleys and steep slopes of the mountains, chuffing and blowing with each grade. On board the darkened cars, the passengers slept – but not all. Prowling up and down the passages came Gunther and Marcelle, watching for any sign of danger. Sitting in the one lit compartment on the car were Eason, Percilla, and Contessa, passing the miles with talk and planning. Percilla, though, was fighting sleep, as she had been exhausted by the training this day, of which Gunther was her personal trainer.

Gunther had Percilla doing things that she might have to do on her own, should there be no one else to aid her. He insisted that she patrol the train, using the Sight to locate and identify each person on the train. Not only did she pick out the five of them, Percilla also located three others, as well.

“Yes, they are fellow knights of the Order”, Gunther explained, “providing extra security for this leg of the journey, as well as traveling on their own tasks as well. Their leader, Sir Marcus of the Budapest enclave, is returning to their base to report on their missions.”

Gunther also had Percilla practice her shield as well. She had not improved much, but Gunther marked her progress nonetheless. But the most taxing lessons by far, were the attempts to “travel” throughout the train compartments. Percilla’s head felt near to exploding, after journeying up and down the cars and surveilling all the passengers.

“Cilla, dear, you really should get some rest tonight,” Eason said to her as they spoke in the lit compartment. “Contessa, I’ll step into the other room, and leave you two to get ready for bed.” Contessa nodded in agreement, also stifling a yawn. Eason got up and left. Percilla and Contessa began preparing for bed.

“We’ll be in Vienna tomorrow, and Budapest tomorrow night,” Contessa was saying. “I am told we shall stay there fro two days, then leave – without Gunther, of course, as he’s staying behind.”

“Contessa, do you know what the Elder intends for us to do, if you’re leading us onward from Budapest?” Percilla asked.

“Si, bella, I do,” Contessa said. “I was given quite the extensive explanation for what is to come. It was told to me, we shall expect to find passage to the city of Sibiu’ depending on the enclave’s report – heh, ‘city’, they called it. Sibiu’ is a town, not much larger than anything in Italy. Nested in the arms of the Carpathians, how can a city grow?”

“Be that as it may,” she went on, “Budapest to Sibiu’ is less than a day by train, so we should make good time, once the road is secure. Knights from Budapest to Bucharest are scouring the Transylvanian countryside, looking for the Enemy. I should have liked the roads better, than the trains. The father east we go, the travel will be slower, and more dangerous, not from just the Enemy – but from the nation as a whole.”

“What do you mean, bandits or such?” Percilla said.

“Yes,” Contessa said. “This is a wild and unruly part of Europe, even in this day and age, not civilized and sanitary like your England. There will be perils on the road, should we have to take car or slower, but I would prefer that to the trains, which can be seen and ambushed easily.”

“But, isn’t the train faster, and more secure?”

“Not as you might think. A train can only follow its tracks. Someone on the roads can take any path they choose, or no path at all, if need comes. And the train is easier to attack – if I had a car or a horse, I could escape if I chose, or turned to fight.”

“Contessa, please tell me something”, Percilla said suddenly, sitting on the edge of the bunk. “You said you aren’t a Knight-Commander, but Gunther is. And I recall there are three such knights. And Baron Szilagy was the last hereditary one? How did Gunther and the others become such?”

“Trial by combat, Dame Percilla,” Contessa laughed, “how else can you explain it? Gunther is a fierce man, as are the other two commanders, Sir Ismael and Sir William. I have worked with the others, but this is the first time I shall travel with Sir Gunther.”

“But the Knight-Commanders used to be hereditary, didn’t they?” Percilla asked. “Passed from one generation to the next. And not distinguished in combat?”

“Each generation came against their own unique challenge,” Contessa said. “Each successive Commander had a crisis to face. They eventually proved themselves, each and every one.”

“So, I am destined to be a Knight-Commander, is that it?”

Contessa looked long and silent at Percilla, then sitting next to her, said slowly, as if gauging her words. “Percilla, that may just be what is expected of you. Your task was to get to Sibiu’, and restore the estate. But I cannot say more of the mission until we leave Budapest on the final stage. You, who have the blood claim to the barony, may also have a claim to greater things in the Order. Already, for example, you possess powers that are far in excess of what an acolyte may have. In fact, you’re more like an Inner Court knight, than any I’ve seen.”

“What also tells me more is, the attention that the Elders are paying to you,” she went on. “Elder Romanov has taken great interest in you, as has Elder Melchior. I am given to understand that the others also follow your progress, especially Elder Vespici, who is in Rome. It was he who sent me here, presumably at the behest of Elder Romanov.”

“Vespici? But that’s - ?” Percilla stammered.

Contessa just smiled her crooked smile. “Si, domina, that’s my name, as well. Elder Vespici is my uncle, my father’s brother. The Order is quite hereditary, as you already knew with your case. But, just how much, you will learn.”

Excerpt from Eason’s Journal
27 MAY 1935

Our stay in Salzburg was merely a stop, not straying far from the station, taking a light afternoon meal in an open-air shop near the stationhouse – we were playing the roles of travelers again, holiday-makers in the Alps. Percilla and I were paired, as were Marcelle and Contessa, the two of them keeping a stream of French babble, almost quarrelsome, it was amusing to watch. Gunther, as always, stalked the area alone, patrolling around the station, never letting his guard down, ceaseless in his duty. I can’t help wondering more about him – what a lonely existence he must lead, no lasting home, no connections to family or even friends. I am not surprised why he would maintain such loyalty to Elder Romanov, now. She must be the closest thing to a family he has.

Percilla and I had the chance to talk again over luncheon, just the two of us, and Cilla was burning to share all the news she found out. Contessa was apparently a fountain of information about the Order, and the personalities involved with our journey.

“So, Contessa is the niece of one of the Elders?” I asked incredulously. “Small wonder she is involved so deeply with the doings of the Order. The access she must enjoy. You know, I’m beginning to see a pattern, here. It’s all about family and bloodline, do you see it?”

“Yes, I agree,” Cilla said. “The Romanovs, the Vespicis, and even me. All the closest circles of power are blood connections. I suppose that family loyalties are very strong, but for what reasons, I can’t fathom.”

“And how does that pertain to me,” I wondered aloud. “I mean, I’m not of any noble family at all. Father was knighted, of course, but that’s not any long-lined nobility, so how might I fit in to the scheme of things?”

Cilla looked at me, “You’re here to protect me, Eason dearest, as so many have told us already. And honestly, dearest of friends,” as she pressed her hand into mine, “I would have no other near me than you. Not for reasons of defense, but because… well…”

I covered her hand with mine, and simply said to her wide dark eyes, “I stay with you for the same reasons, Cilla. I care for you, too.” At this, her eyes suddenly went hard and mysterious.

“You care enough for me to stand on a balcony in Zurich romancing your grandmother,” she said bitterly.

I was stunned into silence, not only by the directness of that accusation, but by the anger behind it – and the truth behind it, as well. What passed between Katerina – Elder Romanov – and me that night, and what Percilla saw…

LATER – We are bound for Vienna, about an hour away from arrival. We arrive after dark, and I am given to understand that the Vienna enclave will receive us to switch trains for the trip on to Budapest. At least, so Gunther informs us – and how he knows this, after being out of communication since leaving Salzburg, is beyond me.

Percilla has been quiet, at least to me. She has been speaking to Contessa, and the drills with Gunther keep us busy, so no chance has come again for us to talk. I sense her anger. I can actually see it, using the Sight: small crackles of static blue fly off from her at intervals, like a thunderstorm venting slowly. Marcelle sensed it too, I think, because of what he said to me before the train stopped:

“Think not too harshly on her, mon ami. Dame Percilla is learning more and more each day, of what she is and what she can do. It is what she cannot do, I think, that frightens her still. She wishes to control her life, which is easy to see. And with the powers of the Order, she will be easily able to do so. But all things come with a price, and she has yet to make payment on that price.”

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