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Without her.
Alone.
Laughter.
One of the bastards kicked me. I rolled
with it. Landed on my back. Stared
impotently up at their grinning faces.
How dare they? How dare anyone? I was a
Von Zarovich. But I was nothing to them,
only another kill perhaps more difficult,
more stubborn than the rest, but that made
for better sport. They laughed, their voices
unknowingly joining the vile chorus in my
mind.
Laughter& for my newborn rage.
I was looking at dead men. I could not die,
but they would. Before another hour
passed, I'd send them wailing on their way
to rotting hell. All of them.
All except the traitor behind them. For
him, something special.
Who& ?
The one who'd kicked me now passed his
bow to another man, then removed his
helmet.
Leo Dilisnya.
*****
The pale marble walls of the main dining
room were splashed and stained with
blood. Except for that and an unwonted
disarray to the place settings on the long
central table, the room still looked
prepared for a celebration. The candles on
the three chandeliers high above were all
alight and seemed to strike sparks from the
faceted crystal around them. Lying, as I
was, on the cold floor, with no strength left
to do anything but stare up, I had ample
opportunity to study their bright beauty.
Illusion. Nothing was beautiful anymore.
Beauty had died when she'd
Before carrying me here, rough hands had
ripped the arrows from my body. I moaned
in spite of myself and clutched at the many
wounds dotting my chest and belly. They
burned like coals thrown out from a fire.
They had also stopped bleeding. So far, no
one had noticed.
One man had been detailed to guard me.
More stood ready over the other prisoners:
Ivan Buchvold, his brother-in-law, Victor
Wachter, and Victor's nine-year-old
daughter, Lovina. The girl clung to her
father like a limpet, too stunned to cry. The
men bore expressions startlingly similar to
hers and were much the worse for wear.
Both had marred their fine clothes with
blood and sweat, indicating that they'd had
a share in the fighting.
Which seemed to be over for the time
being. I heard no more clamor within the
keep. The place was numb with that
strange silence exclusive to a battlefield
when the battle is over.
The double doors at the south end of the
room were thrown open. Accompanied by
guards, Lady Ilona and Reinhold Dilisnya
were shoved in our direction. Ilona kept
her feet; Reinhold, his face gray with
illness, dropped right down and curled up
like a dog. Ilona went to him, held her
hands above his shivering form, and
bowed her head in prayer.
I turned away, gritting my teeth to keep
from crying out. The next time I looked,
Reinhold appeared to be asleep.
"Lord Strahd?" Ilona knelt next to me. Her
age was showing this night. I wondered
what terrors she had seen. She reached out.
"Touch me not!" I snarled.
She jerked her hand back. "My lord?"
Then she got a really good look at me. If
the changes within were visible to anyone,
they would be to her. In that awful,
unutterable instant, she saw and
understood. Her head sagged.
"Spare it for others."
"Oh, Strahd, what have you done?" She
somehow knew I was not a victim, but was
myself responsible for what had happened.
"Everything and nothing."
I'd never seen her weep before. The sight
of it now should have moved me in some
other way than toward contempt. "My lady
needs to better control herself," I
murmured, mocking her words to me. That
struck me as being quite amusing, and
regardless of the pain, I was laughing.
Her eyes fixed on my open mouth.
I knew what she was looking at I felt
their sharp, new points well enough with
my tongue.
"If I could help you, I would," she
whispered.
As if I cared much now for the soul I'd
given up. "Tell me what's going on."
She hesitated. Wise of her. In dealing with
what I had become, it would always be a
good idea to be as cautious as possible.
"Where's Leo Dilisnya?"
More hesitation. Leo may have been the
architect of tonight's slaughter, but he was
still like her still human while I was
not.
I let my eyes slide to the other prisoners.
"Tell me, and I can help save them."
Yes. That was her weakness. She knew it,
too. She also did not question my ability to
succeed at an apparently impossible task.
"I want your word on that, Strand Von
Zarovich."
"You trust me to keep it?"
"As a point of honor, you would. You've
not lost that, have you?"
"I don't know. Perhaps we'll find out."
It was as much a guarantee as she would
ever get from me now. She reluctantly
nodded. "I don't know where Leo is, but
he'll be here soon. The guards said as
much."
"What of my people?"
"Dead, or poisoned and dying. The
guests& all dead& those loyal to you,
anyway. Where's Sergei? And Tatyana?"
I laughed again, because I was no longer
able to cry.
Ilona shivered and made the protective
sign of her faith.
"Don't!"
She froze. "I am sorry for you, Strahd."
"Save it for those who need it."
She stared for a very long moment, pity,
horror, compassion, and disgust playing
over her face, turn on turn.
It was of no importance to me. I glanced
toward the others. "Just keep silent, Lady."
A nod, a rustle of skirts as she rose, and
the harsh pressure of her immediate
presence lifted from me. Some of my
strength came trickling back. But my
throat was so raw. I needed& something
to drink.
The smell of blood positively filled this
room. Most of it came from the walls and
floors. Drying there. Useless and
maddening. The guard next to me& he'd
picked up enough from my talk with Ilona
to be uneasy and had put some distance
between us. Reinhold was closest, but his
scent was somehow wrong. Tainted.
Leo again. All those years of Reinhold's
sickness made perfect sense now. How
long had Leo been planning this? How
long had he been gradually poisoning his
brother?
No matter. It would end tonight.
The doors swung open again, and Gunther
Cosco was pushed through. He'd lost his
hat, and strands of his thinning hair stood
comically out from his head. He was as
white as Reinhold except for a slash of red
dribbling down one side of his once-
handsome face; he'd taken a cut. He'd have
a very bad scar if he lived long enough
for it to heal.
His guards didn't seem to see him as much
of a threat and left him alone. He drifted in
our general direction, but said nothing, and
did not meet our eyes.
Flanked by some of his men, Leo Dilisnya
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