~ Sins of the Past ~
Their second evening home, Stefano and Gerik were entertaining Ferris and Liness Stonce from the mainland. The couple were friends with the Falows. The four had shared a late dessert and glasses of sherry at a table on the balcony so Lord Stonce could smoke his pipe. When he stood to empty the spent pipe into the ashcan, the light, sweet scent of cherry wafted from him.
“It has been a pleasant evening, but Liness and I should be returning home. “
Stefano and Gerik stood; Stefano shook the man’s hand.
“Thank you, Lord and Lady Stonce. It was nice spending time with you. Remember now, your eldest is welcome to come with you next time.”
“I’m sure she will be ecstatic. Come, Liness.”
Lord Stonce helped his wife stand. She said her quick good-byes and they headed for the front doors. The indoor footman had reached for one of the knobs when both doors swung. Vargon and Odessa stepped in and the two couples greeted each other. Vargon then offered his hand to Lord Stonce.
“I am glad we were able to see you before you left. It is a shame you and Lady Liness cannot stay a while. Perhaps next time Odessa and I visit we can meet over drinks.”
“I would enjoy that, Lord Vargon. Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
A footman closed the doors behind the Stonces while Vargon and Odessa walked to the bar.
“Sire, Odessa, how splendid to see you both. To what do we owe for the honor of your visit?”
Vargon frowned as his eyes flashed once. “Is that sherry? Viktor, Odessa and I would enjoy a glass of the same. As to our visit, I’m afraid our woods have become infested.”
“Infested? That is sad news indeed. What blight has descended upon the trees?” Stefano set his glass on the bar; Viktor swiftly refreshed it with more of the sherry.
“Wolven”
“Wolven? That is a blight indeed.”
Gerik had Viktor refill his glass as he interjected. “What are wolven? I don’t remember them from my lessons.”
Stefano sipped his drink. “You would know them as werewolves. I did not mention them because I would rather forget they exist. They are foul, spiteful creatures that have been at war with kindred since the dawn of their unfortunate existence.” He set his glass down. “Viktor, I believe I will need a house brandy. A double if you would.” Stefano turned back to his sire. “I thought the agreed settlement of peace declares they are not to venture into our lands as we are to stay from theirs.”
Vargon shook his head. “It appears one of their kind is disregarding that settlement. I did not wish the confrontation, signs of his presence were throughout the woods. As the warding sticks would not shelter the wagon, I brought my love to safety.”
Odessa stretched up to kiss his cheek. “And I love you for the compassion.”
Gerik entered the conversation. “You said ‘his’, my lord. How do you know it is male?”
“Only the male mark territory by slashing a tree then urinating on the area, and his signs and odor are everywhere.”
Stefano rook a long slow sip of his drink before he spoke again. “How many do you think there are? Is it one male with the usual harem, or a full pack?”
“I have not seen any. But I talked to a friend of mine in Silver Wolf’s pack and she…”
Stefano interrupted Vargon, confusion and dismay clouding his face. “Wait! You are friends with wolven?”
“Fair question, even if rudely posed. I have one friend who is a monthly wolven. She only turns during wolfmoon, unlike so many that have given up their mortal shell completely. According to her, word is out that a rogue male, name of ‘Draxis’, has been terrorizing various communities. I understand that he even killed several in his own pack before they managed to drive him out.”
“They should have ended him. By the Fates! Did it appear as if he was headed north? Or east? Your terri--- my territory lies in that direction from your camp, unless you moved it.”
“No, had not moved Haven. But now it is here, on the island. Safe from the likes of some wolven.”
Stefano looked to Gerik, who nodded in response. They both heard it; they would be renaming the Keep.
“All things as they are, I am weary and would like to rest. Odessa and I fed afore we arrived, and my mind calls to withdraw for a spell. Odessa, you are free to remain and talk if you wish. Stefano, Gerik, Viktor, I bid you all a restful night.” Vargon slowly headed up the stairs to his suite of rooms.
Stefano looked to Odessa, his face etched with concern. “Is he alright? I know he claims to be fine but I can’t help but worry. You understand that.”
“I do understand. And yes, he is fine. It’s not unusual for him to be tired like this, it happened even before the fire, so don’t try to take any blame. He truly is fine, Stefano. Our sire just takes it very hard when things he strives for are lost.” She stepped forward and patted his cheek. “That’s why he’s so pleased with you, brother-of-blood. I am going up to be with him. You two enjoy the rest of the night.”
“You as well, Odessa. Sweet respite.”
Gerik added, “Goodnight, Odessa.” He looked at Stefano. “She is a nice woman. Vargon did well in choosing her.”
Viktor spoke from behind the bar. “If you have nothing else, I will bid you a good night as well.”
“Goodnight, Viktor.”
“Goodnight, dear friend.” Stefano finished his drink. “And yes, Gerik, she is very nice. Vargon does seem to know how to find beauty, poise, charm, and intelligence in his children.”
“Don’t forget modesty.”
“Is that a slight?” Stefano laughed. “You must be repaid for that comment.”
Stefano lunged for his chylde, forcing thoughts of wolven and other troubles from his mind, at least for the time being. Gerik managed to dodge him and race for the balcony doors. The youth was also laughing by the time he hit the stone steps and charged for the beach, Stefano close on his heels.
. . . . .
A lone figure walked around the small meadow, following prominent wheel marks. There were kindred here earlier - their odor remains. He followed the tracks a few yards then stopped where the indentions in the grass ended. They slip into shadow. So my adversaries are not stupid. This could turn to be an enjoyable hunt. He bent low to pick up some of the crushed blades and rubbed them under his nose between thumb and forefinger. And if my sense of smell is accurate, which I know it is, my old ‘friend’ is one of them. What fortune to find him as well.
Draxis snarled, then released a long, mournful howl.
I sense you are near, Vargon, prince of the damned. And I shall find you.