Disclaimers Here

Through the perpetual blackness of enforced night, the luxurious penthouse tried to project a grand appearance, but the overwhelming sense of gloom in the room muted the rich trappings. Heavy drapes were pulled tightly closed to prevent the rising sun from invading the darkened room. A single light shone from the corner bar, braving the blackness in an attempt to illuminate the otherwise caliginous suite.

A slight rustling of sound announced the entrance of a large man, who strolled out of the blackness of the bedroom wearing a dark red velvet robe and a towel draped over his shoulders. The single light casting its dim glow across the room illuminated the roughly handsome features of Gautier. He was obviously fresh from the shower since water still slowly dripped from his neatly combed dark brown hair.

The Frenchman sauntered over to the small refrigerator and removed a dark colored wine bottle. Snagging a goblet from the cabinet above the small fridge, he headed over to the couch, settling comfortably against the soft leather. Lost in thought, he poured himself a glass of blood-wine before settling back to contemplate the events of the preceding evening.

To think -- after all this time, he was finally able to indulge his greatest desire; he had succeeded in possessing the young squire, deBrabant: a wish that had captured his imagination through these many centuries.

"If only I hadn't been interrupted," he grumbled, taking a sip from his glass. Thinking of his night's activity, Gautier stroked the fragile link running between Nick and himself. His new toy was still unconscious, more's the pity. Glancing at the crystal, Gautier considered how much different the bottled blood tasted compared to the fiery, rich nectar he had consumed a few hours earlier. Setting the drink on the coffee table in front of him, he realized he wasn't really that hungry. After all, I did drink my fill from deBrabant! The taste -- the sensations of it still thrummed through him.

His victory over Nicholas had only served to whet his appetite for more. With a lascivious smile growing on his face, Gautier found himself planning his next encounter with Detective Knight. He lifted his glass in a toast, thanking whatever listening deity for arranging the circumstances that had led to the occurrences of the night before. "To finding lost treasures..." he breathed with delight. "...And keeping them!" he added to himself.

Gautier leaned back into the overstuffed couch and considered how he was going to achieve permanent possession of the young detective. Deliberating about the rage he had sensed when Knight's master had arrived, he snarled to himself. "I *will* have him again; and no mortal or vampire will stop me!"

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LaCroix lightly brushed back an unruly strand of blond hair from his son's forehead and sat back on the bed. A quiet whisper of cloth informed him of Tabari's approach. Looking up from his child's bruised features, he leveled an angry stare at his contemporary and firmly took hold of his wrath. "How did you know my son was in danger?"

Tabari stopped next to the bed and glanced at Nicholas before raising his gaze to LaCroix. Taking a deep breath, he replied, "I felt his attack."

LaCroix stiffened in surprise at Tabari's response. He opened his mouth to retort, then stopped when he saw Tabari raise his hand, forestalling his demand for clarification.

"Lucien, I would suggest we retire to a more private location and let Nicholas rest. He's going to need as much sleep as he can obtain."

"Very well." The snarl was quite audible in LaCroix' voice.

LaCroix stood and pulled the blanket up from the foot of the bed to cover his son. Moving around the bed, he heard Tabari address Miklos, who had settled near Janette once Nicholas quieted. "Get as much blood into him as you can while he's amenable. He's going to need his strength in the coming days if he's to survive." With that cryptic comment, Tabari strode out of the room, with Janette and LaCroix close behind.

Janette led the way into her office, followed by Tabari and LaCroix. Removing three glasses and a bottle of LaCroix' favorite vintage from the bar, she carried everything over to the couch. Gracefully settling onto the couch, she poured some of the ruby red liquid into all three glasses and silently waited for Tabari's explanation.

LaCroix leaned against the closed door, glaring at the Moor while Tabari, with lithesome grace, picked up a full glass and tasted the offered repast.

"Hmmm, excellent, Janette." He purred in delight as the vibrant liquid burned through him. Pulling himself back from the tactile reactions to the blood, he sighed, "However, there are other things to deal with, aren't there?" Tabari gazed toward LaCroix when he heard the old vampire speak.

"Yes, many things need explaining." Pushing himself off the door, LaCroix crossed the room and picked up a glass, then turned and perched himself on the edge of the large oak desk that occupied one corner of the office. He sipped on his glass while he waited.

With another sigh, the Moor drained the glass and set it down. Turning, he slowly paced back and forth between these two old acquaintances from long ago. "Yes, many things... Well, to deal with the immediate question -- Nicholas has been...I guess the closest thing would be to call it a poisoning."

"Poison?" Janette and LaCroix echoed in surprise.

"Yes. He's going to need all his strength to fight off the effects." Tabari stopped in front of the couch and glanced from Janette to LaCroix, a deep frown etched upon his face. "I'm hoping his age will help him succeed. The last victim I stumbled across was only around 500 years old; he didn't survive."

The sound of shattering crystal drew all eyes to LaCroix as he swept the remains of his glass to the floor. With his fury apparent in his amber-hued glare, he surged to his feet and rumbled, "I think you need to tell us *what* is going on! Who attacked my son!"

"Very well, Lucien." Moving over to one of the barstools across from the desk, he rested on it, with one foot braced on the floor.

"Do you remember the last time we three met?" he asked, looking from LaCroix to Janette, then back again. At the wary look from the old Roman, Tabari knew he did. With a nod, he began his tale.

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Flashback:
Late summer, 1214
Castle Artois, Lord de la Barre's heraldry home

The dark skinned Moor moved silently through the corridors of the castle, wishing the celebration that had occurred after the joust would finally wind down. Taberi sighed softly. It was so much easier to hunt when the servants and masters alike were finally seeking repose. It didn't matter to him whether they retired to a bed, alone or not, or simply dropped wherever room was available. It made feeding so much more enjoyable when it wasn't threatened with interruption.

Moving away from all the activity, he finally found something to eat when he stumbled upon a drudge hiding in the lower storage chambers. The dirty woman had slipped away from her tasks in an attempt to escape the work this night's celebration would entail.

Tabari easily bested the filthy young woman, draining her will as he planned to drain her blood. Leaning closer to the scullion, he wrinkled his nose at her stench, wishing for the umpteenth time since arriving that this lord had a more enlightened appreciation of cleanliness for his servants. Concentrating on the fluid moving strongly just under her skin drew a hungry growl from the Moor's chest. He reared his head back and struck, piercing the dirty neck.

Noises -- clinking, with soft voices mingling -- drew him up from the blood haze. Senses alert, Tabari licked the last few drops of blood from his lips. "Fumier! I'm not finished yet!" he swore softly. What did four French knights want down in the inner food stores? Softly muttering profanities in several languages, the Moor stuffed the servant behind a wall of stacked supplies, dead. Between the vermin of the castle and the location, he had chosen to hide her abandoned corpse, it would be long into winter before anyone would discover the body. He barely had time to safely conceal the woman and exit the room before the soldiers clanked in. If it were possible, his stomach would be rumbling with displeasure at his light feeding.

Wandering steadily upward toward his living quarters, Tabari was forced to face the inevitable; with the merrymaking continuing through the swiftly approaching dawn -- there wouldn't be any more easy meals tonight. He didn't *like* going to bed hungry!

With the approaching war building to a delightful crest, Tabari considered the feasibility of leaving Artois. Feeding would be much easier if he relocated closer to the gathering armies, not to mention the delightful mental stimulation to be enjoyed if he rejoined Emperor Otto IV's court. Between the growing feeling that it was time to move on and the recent arrival of a pair of vampires to the castle's population, he was starting to feel...crowded.

The Moor approached his quarters, arguing silently with himself regarding the pros and cons of leaving, when he perceived the close proximity of another vampire: one near his own age. Cautiously approaching his quarters, Tabari realized the presence was inside his room. Angry at this slap at courtesy, he eased the large, wooden door open and cautiously stepped inside.

The room was alight with several candles, their flickering glow casting fingers of light into the deep shadows of the chamber. Across from the bed, the other ancient living within the castle was seated on one of the stools located near the small writing table. Ice-blue eyes glittered as they bored into Tabari's own brown pupils.

"To what do I owe this intrusion?" With his annoyance plainly insinuated in his tone, Tabari dropped his cloak across a nearby chair.

"I have need of your services," the deep, vibrant voice quietly began.

"I'm not a craftsman hawking my wares, Lucien. What services would you be referring to?"

"Tabari..." LaCroix snarled, surging to his feet... then quickly smothered his apparent anger. "I have a problem...which needs solving," he rephrased his original statement, then raised his hand to point his long forefinger at the Moor, "...and *you* owe me."

Tabari sighed, then dropped his gaze to the floor momentarily. Looking back up, he nodded slightly and quietly asked, "What kind of payment were you expecting?"

He watched as the anger again simmered close to the surface in LaCroix, who had begun to pace about the room. "I require payment simply by you behaving true to your nature." He stopped his pacing to face the Moor. "I require a death!" he coldly breathed.

"Whose death?"

"You know of the joust earlier today?" At the affirmative nod, LaCroix began slowly pacing around the room again. "The French knight, Gautier -- he has dared to injure, to try and cllaim something which is mine. I won't allow this!" he hissed, his anger flaring hot as he whirled around to glare at Tabari with angry, amber eyes. "I expect you to deal with him for me."

Tabari frowned and moved toward his guest. "Why don't you deal with this interloper yourself? Why come to me?"

"I can't leave the castle right now; other business is holding me here." Looking his contemporary in the eye, he growled, "I want Gautier's death, Tabari. If you will do this, I will count your debt paid."

"Other business, Lucien?"

LaCroix turned and leveled a hard, cold stare on the other. "That particular business is none of your affair," making it clear that subject would *not* be discussed.

Tabari offered a slight nod to pacify Lucien, then turned, and walked slowly toward his bed, thinking about the offer. He did owe the old Roman, that was true. Moreover, he had been considering leaving the castle. And I have the feeling I could stretch this service into a debt owed me, if I try hard enough, the Moor considered with a small smile. Turning back to LaCroix, he stated with a nod of his head, "Done. Where is this bothersome human?"

"He and his followers left the castle shortly before sunrise, heading east. If what Gautier stated upon his arrival is the truth," LaCroix' voice fairly dripped with his disgust and contempt of this human, "he will attempt to join up with his kinsmen, who are reputed to be a day's hard ride from here."

"All right, Lucien. I will leave at sunset." Tabari observed a hint of relief cross the old vampire's face before it was quickly concealed. Striding toward the door, LaCroix suddenly turned back and snarled, "I'm depending on you Tabari. Don't disappoint me!" With a slight nod of his head and a sudden displacement of air, Lucien LaCroix was gone.

"Well, well... What ever did you do, Gautier? I haven't seen LaCroix this enraged in centuries." Gathering his cloak, he began to pack. There were plans to be arranged if he was leaving at dusk.

"Yes, I remember all this quite clearly. However, what does it have to do with the current circumstances?" LaCroix growled, annoyed at having this unrelated event mentioned.

"Ahhh, but it has everything to do with what's been happening. After following the trail left by the Frenchmen's troops, I quickly caught up with the wagons and supply train only to discover Gautier and a large portion of his fighters had gone ahead.

Flashback:
The fields near Bouvines, Flanders. A day's ride east of Castle Artois

The glow from all the firepits cast a strong glare into the night sky. The armies of King Philip II of France stretched across the landscape. Tabari knew there would be a fierce battle between the European coalition and Philip's army any day now. If this little side trip goes easily, maybe I'll hang around for a few days, just to see how things turn out, he considered, as he continued to look for Gautier's banner.

The French knight had evidently pushed his troops hard to arrive before the Moor could catch up. Slipping closer to the French army, Tabari listened in on half a dozen conversations, trying to trace Gautier's location. One such overheard conversation assured him the French knight had arrived -- already having fought one joust and a hand to hand battle of honor since his arrival late that afternoon. "This Frenchman's temper must surpass Lucien's in irascibility if he takes offense that easily." Merging with the shadows, the vampire continued to work through the army, looking for some sign of the gules (red) boar trippant on a field of purple, Gautier's coat of arms.

A short while later, Tabari finally spotted the banner he was seeking. He was approaching the main tent when first one physician, then another was tossed out of the tent in question, their bags and equipment quickly joining them on the ground. A thunderous voice began ranting from inside the tent, threatening in explicit detail violence to several of their body parts if they dared to return. Tabari grinned when these men of learning displayed a collective spark of intelligence and quickly vacated the premises.

As the physicians hurried away, Tabari couldn't suppress his curiosity and slipped closer. He kept a watchful awareness for any wandering soldiers and extended his senses to listen in on the conversation within the tent. Ah...Gautier and his aide. Excellent, he surmised, grinning with feral ease. Easing back into the blackness of the night, he listened and waited for his prey to be left alone.

Several hours later, the camp finally settled into a restless sleep. The occupant of the tent had fallen asleep an hour ago, with the aide bedded down close to the fire outside. Slipping into the tent, Tabari silently glided toward the human burrowed inside the sleeping furs.

When he leaned close, the odor of blood and a foul poultice assaulted his nostrils. Frowning, Tabari carefully pulled the furs aside and obtained his first glimpse of Lord Gautier, great-nephew of the Duke of Aquitaine.

The big man was wrapped in bandages, which crisscrossed his upper chest and right side. Tabari knew from the snatches of conversation he'd overheard that Gautier had won both encounters earlier that day, but obviously at a price. Leaning closer, he was impressed with the virile strength that projected from this human. It was a shame he had already given his word to LaCroix about this one's death. This Frenchman could conceivably make a fine vampire.

Oh, well Tabari, get on with it, he admonished himself and leaned down to strike for the throat. Sliding his fangs into the warm flesh, he felt the man briefly push against him, though he uttered not a sound. From the first drop of blood, Tabari could sense the wickedness of spirit that consumed this human. Gautier quickly lost consciousness as the vampire continued to draw the hot blood into his mouth. As he drank, he viewed some of the atrocities Gautier had committed as a protected knight and felt the ominous evil within the human. the old vampire reconsidered.

A growing pain flared in Tabari's stomach shortly after he had begun to feed. The discomfort moved swiftly through his veins, into his limbs and head, growing more pronounced by the second. With a muffled moan of agony, Tabari jerked away from his prey and staggered to the center of the tent. Dropping to his knees, he rocked forward and took several large gulps of air. His vision wavered fuzzily as he sat back on his heels and glanced over at the still form. he weakly heartened himself, ...since there's no way I'm going to be able to finish. When another wave of agony forced him to drop his forehead to the ground, he realized that he had to find shelter before he was completely incapacitated by Gautier's blood. Suppressing another moan of pain, the faltering vampire staggered to his feet and reeled out of the tent, before forcing himself into the star-lit night.

Tabari pulled away from his memories and looked at his two companions in the room. Janette was chewing on her lower lip, her thoughts turned inward. Glancing toward LaCroix, he saw a solemn expression replacing the anger that had been visible earlier. Though Tabari was indirectly responsible for all the erratic knight had done, he wasn't willing to shoulder the cost Lucien would be demanding as retribution for his son's attack. He waited, caution mixing with his desire to help.

LaCroix looked at Tabari with a scalding comment on his lips, only to feel it die away. The outrage and anger which had risen as Tabari's tale unfolded, cooled when he remembered his own reaction to the chanced meeting with a human so consumed in evil, it had completely incapacitated him. It was nearly a century later before his mistake concerning 'Jack' had been rectified. Though... if Nicholas had done as I had said..., he reflected. Shaking his head to clear the old memory away, LaCroix turned his attention back to Tabari.

"So, Gautier survived. Which explains who attacked Nicholas." Looking at Tabari, he continued, "Are you linked to him?"

Tabari stared into LaCroix' eyes and replied. "Our link was never completed." He took a deep breath and continued, "I feel very little from him except when he's playing with a victim. Then his emotions are high and I sense some of what's happening."

LaCroix rose and walked over to the bottle Janette had left on the table. Concern was swiftly tempering the seething rage he had felt since Nicholas' attack. Pouring himself another glass, he considered this new information as he sipped on his drink.

Janette glanced up and asked, "You said the last victim died from this 'poison'. What do we need to do to prevent that fate from befalling Nicola?" Seeing the expression on Tabari's face, she slowly rose in alarm. "Have any of his victims survived?"

When no immediate reply was forthcoming, LaCroix moved to stand in front of the Moor. Projecting a deadly, ominous air, he gently placed his glass on the bar and growled, "Well?"

Looking LaCroix in the eyes, Tabari flatly stated, "As far as I'm aware, none have."

Moving quickly to stand beside her master, Janette began, "But, you said because of his age..."

"Enough, Janette!" LaCroix snapped, interrupting her. Turning his attention back to Tabari, he bluntly stated, "What plans are you considering to help Nicholas?"

"If we can get enough fresh blood into him and keep him calm and quiet long enough..."

"Then he has a chance to recover?" Janette pounced on Tabari's idea, her fear of losing Nicholas making her bold in front of the elder vampires.

"Possibly."

Sensing his daughter's rising fear, LaCroix gently grabbed her arm and asked, "Don't you have some spare clothes here for Nicholas?"

Distracted by his question, Janette hesitated. "Uh... Yes. I believe there are."

"Gather them together, then start a warm bath. We need to clean him up before the curare wears off."

With a sigh, she replied, "Oui, I'll see to it." Thankful for something useful to do, Janette hurried out of the room.

After her departure, the old Roman glanced toward Tabari. "What haven't you told me?"

"It's going to be rough, LaCroix. Nicholas will be delusional, even to the point of violence as he deals with the evil that's infected him. Considering what I saw a short time ago, Gautier probably forced Nicholas to ingest some of his blood, which will make his reactions considerably worse." Hearing a rumbling growl, Tabari watched LaCroix, his fury reflected in the reddish-gold irises.

"On whose side will you stand when I exact retribution from your creation?"

"I decided long ago that given the chance, I would dispatch Gautier from this world. Because of me, he's preyed on humans and vampires without regard." Turning partially away, Tabari continued as he looked inward upon his memories, "So many times in the past, I've arrived too late to aid his victims," Tabari snarled with deeply felt malice. "Knowing my 'son' was long gone, I was forced to deal with what remained. The humans were lucky; they usually expired quickly. But the young vampires, Lucien..." A haunted look crossed the Moor's face as he viewed the unwanted memories. "I'd give them what comfort I could before they succumbed to their death." Looking LaCroix in the eye, the Moor vigorously stated, "This is the first time in well over a century, my arrival was early enough to catch Gautier while he was still in the area. And maybe, just maybe, I can help concerning your son too."

"You had better remember those words. You get in my way, you'll meet the same fate as Gautier." The absolute certainty of LaCroix' words wasn't lost on the Moor. He knew how dangerous LaCroix could be, given the proper incentive. With a slight nod of the head, he acknowledged and agreed to the Roman's terms.

LaCroix started to move past, heading for the door when Tabari laid a hand on his arm, detaining the enraged vampire. "There's something else."

LaCroix growled in warning and jerked away. "What else!"

"You must not let Nicholas feed from you. Drain off some blood if you must, but don't let him feed."

At the Moor's words, the ice blue of LaCroix' eyes reappeared as his confusion briefly warred with his fury. He quickly regained control and projected his usual impassive visage.

"This... poison is contagious," LaCroix stated, knowing the answer before Tabari nodded his assent. Exhaling a quick breath, LaCroix moved toward the door, worry for his son's life resting heavily on his shoulders. "Come, there is much to do."

To Chapter 11

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