A Loom of Years

Eighteenth Weaving
@Anne E. Fraser 2006

 Corbeau was gone.  Most likely, he had crawled back into his hole in
Germany, to nurse his wounds and suffer the slow, painful process of
regeneration.  Blaine cursed the fact he had been unable to kill the
evil thing once and for all.

But at least Corbeau was no longer in Great Britain, and could not
return unless someone was so foolish as to invite him in.

The only one Blaine thought might be capable of such a deed was the
depraved magician Lord Avery, and he seemingly wished to have
nothing to do with vampires whatsoever.  But reports of dark magic,
the darkest imaginable, were disturbing. Naomi and the other witches
and mages of the court were afraid.  Magicians who went up against
Avery died.  He summoned demons and killed innocents for his
rituals. It looked as if Blaine was going to have to interfere in
the business of the Rose and Cross, even though he had sworn to
Avery two full centuries previously that he would not.

Then a visitor came.  Showed up on the doorstep of the townhouse in
South Kensington where Blaine and Olivia spent much of their time as
if paying a social call.  Naomi, who happened to be talking
earnestly with the Prince and Consort, let out an audible gasp even
before golden-eyed Tess opened the door.

"What is it, Naomi?" Olivia asked.

"Magic," came the simple reply.

The fellow who slouched, hands in pockets, insouciantly into the
room didn't look like a powerful enough mage to make a witch gasp. 
He was blond, and not unattractive (or so Olivia and Tess and Naomi
thought), and slightly scruffy.

"Nice place," he said, eyes examining the details of the room.  He
held out a hand to Blaine.  "Julian," he said.

"Ah."  Blaine shook the offered hand much as he might that of an
exorcist.  Even though he'd been keeping an eye and an ear open for
rumours of Julian, he had now known the fellow was back in
England. "Blaine.  My wife, Olivia."

"Charmed."  Julian kissed her hand.  His eyes, full of the devil,
twinkled into hers.  She found herself twinkling back.

"And what brings you here?" Blaine asked.  He knew who Julian was. 
Former emperor.  General of successful armies.  Trouble-maker and
problem-solver rolled into one. Powerful, but unpredictable, mage. 
What he wasn't noted for was being overly social with vampires.

"Lord Avery. Or, as he's currently known, Adrian Blakesley."

"That isn't the name he's using," Blaine frowned.

"It is now."

"I see."  Blaine started patting his pockets, as if hunting for
something to write this information down on. Or with.  It was a
familiar mannerism with him, and it was displacement
activity.  "When did he change it?"

"Yesterday, actually."  Julian looked like he was quite enjoying
watching Blaine, though he occasionally snuck smiles at the women.
He winked at Naomi. 

"Yesterday?" Blaine stopped his fidgeting and stared.  "How do you
know this?"

"Because yesterday is when I gentled him."

"I think perhaps you'd better sit down, and tell us what happened."

Julian shrugged, and remained standing.  "There's not that much to
tell.  Or really, that I will tell.  Avery was a menace.  He was
destroying the Rose and Cross, and giving magic a generally bad
name.  Your duty is to stop rogue vampires, am I right?"

Blaine nodded.  "Yes."

"Well, mine is to stop rogue mages.  At least this one.  He went too
far.  Some magics are better left sleeping.  So I stepped in and
altered his memory.  He is now Adrian Blakesley, head magician of
the Rose and Cross, a powerful but inoffensive ceremonial magician
who will no longer give the court of the British vampire Prince any
concern."

"How can I be certain that what you say is true?"

Julian unslouched.  The room seemed darker, somehow.  Naomi stared
at the visitor.  Tess' eyes glowed.

"I only lie when I have to, Prince Blaine," Julian said.  "In this
case, I don't have to.  Something had to be done about Avery. I did
it.  This will make itself evident soon enough when you notice the
dark magic has stopped."

Blaine's eyes met the mage's.  Neither of them gave any ground,
until Blaine nodded sharply.  "Very well," he said, refusing to
apologize for his doubt.  "Thank you, Julian.  The British court is
in your debt."

Julian smiled.  It was a smile that would have caused an angel to
fall.  Olivia had to shake herself.  Tess seemed impervious, but
Naomi was sighing. 

"I collect all debts, sooner or later, Prince Blaine," the mage
said.  "You'd do well to remember that."

"Nonetheless."

"A pleasure meeting you all," Julian said.  He nodded to Olivia,
then Naomi, then Tess.  "Ladies."  A slight, almost mocking, bow to
Blaine.  "Prince."

And he was gone.

"What was that?" Olivia asked.

"Trouble," Blaine replied.  "But thankfully, it seems to be on our
side.  Nominally."

"I thought Julian didn't like vampires," Naomi spoke up.

"Thank goodness he doesn't," Blaine said briskly.  "Now, ladies, I
am having a drink.  Will you join me?"

They did.


Julian had not lied.  After he left, as mysteriously as he had
arrived, it seemed indeed as if Lord Avery was... gentled.  The Rose
and Cross became a serious organization for the study and teaching
of magic; and, to Blaine and Olivia's amusement, dedicated to the
hunting down and stopping of dangerous rogues.  Avery, or Adrian
Blakesley, was apparently now nearly a model citizen.  He married
and produced a daughter; although his wife died leaving him to raise
the child alone.

Blaine was keeping an eye on him, just in case.

One lazy summer night, when the frogs were croaking in the
ornamental pond behind the townhouse, Lord Avery came to call on the
Vampire Prince and his Consort.

He was still a handsome man.  He had not changed at all since the
days he had been Cecil Broome.  Except that he had no memory at all
of those days.  He came after having sent a letter of inquiry to see
if he was welcome, as he wanted to talk to the Prince of vampires to
ensure that there was no friction between the court and the Rose and
Cross.  He had brought his small daughter, Adele, an imp of a girl
with dark curls.  Blaine and Olivia were both instantly charmed.

"Oh, I hear frogs, Papa," said the girl, gravitating towards the
doors back of the house, which were open to the gentle night
breeze.  She looked up at Blaine.  "Could you catch me a frog,
please?" she asked.

"Adele," coughed Blakesley.  "Mr. Whyte-Thompson..."

"Uncle Blaine," interrupted the Prince, cheerfully.  He caught
Olivia rolling her eyes and grinned at her.  "And this is Aunt
Olivia."

Her expression promised him he would pay for that later.

Adele accepted this addition to her family tree without
question.  "Could you please catch me a frog, Uncle Blaine?"

"Adele," her father tried again.

"I'd be happy to," Blaine replied, removing his shoes and stockings.

Olivia and Adrian Blakesley exchanged incredulous glances as the
dignified vampire Prince of Great Britain and Ireland rolled up his
pant legs and waded, with every evidence of enjoyment, into the lily-
padded pond while frogs leapt for safety.  Adele clapped her small
hands as he waded to her side, then squelched through the soft mud,
and presented her with a mildly surprised frog.

"What have you done with my husband, Lord Avery?" Olivia asked.

He shook his head.

"It's a very nice frog, Father," Adele held it up for
inspection.  "May I keep it?"

"Oh, do say yes," Blaine was wiping off his feet with a rag Tess had
brought outside.  What the lion-eyed shapeshifter thought of her
Prince catching frogs, she did not say.  But Olivia caught her lips
twitching.

"Yes, very well," Blakesley nodded.  "May we get on with business
now, Prince Blaine?"

"Of course.  Tess. Perhaps you could find Adele some lemonade?"

Tess looked like she rather doubted lemonade could be found in the
Prince's household, but obligingly took charge of the child.  The
adults–and Blaine–went back inside to talk.

After a round of serious negotiations that would allow for the Rose
and Cross to operate peacefully in Great Britain, and with more
communication between it and the vampire court, Blakesley seemed
quite happy.

"And thank you for your kindness to my daughter," he said.  "I know
you can't have children..." Perhaps instinct warned him not to
finish that sentence, for he trailed off abruptly.

Olivia shook her head.  She'd never felt any tug of maternal
instinct, even in her living days.  But she watched Blaine.  There
was a shadow in his eyes.  He turned away.  "No," he said. "We
can't."

"No," agreed Blakesley, and left it at that.  Olivia sent him a
silent prayer of thanks for not probing. 

Tess appeared, carrying a sleepy Adele, whose frog now abided in a
small glass bowl with pebbles and water. Olivia wondered where Tess
had found the thing, but Tess was full of surprises.  The girl was
duly handed over to her father, but only after she insisted on
giving her aunt and uncle a kiss.

Make that almost never felt a tug of maternal instinct.  And looking
anywhere but at Blaine's face at that moment was imperative.

"Frogs," said Blaine, when the magician and his daughter had gone.

"Roll down your trousers, darling." Olivia said.  "You simply don't
have the legs for short pants."
 

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