One or two flickers, and the light went out. There was no indication that the light would come back on.
"Is the power down?" Darsus frowned. He looked up from the scheduled memorial notes for Gie s funeral that he had been reading. He took the glasses with no lens off his face and looked up at the ceiling.
Most lighting in homes was still powered by gas, but in White Rose House, the rooms were completely fitted with electric lighting. But the power generator wasn't in the best condition, and there were occasional blackouts.
"Time to buy a new one, I guess."
In this darkness, even a Methuselah couldn't see properly. It looked like the rehearsal was over and the plaza had emptied. Using the light that came in from the gas lamps outside, Darsus continued to read over his notes. Just as he was about to correct a grammatical error, he noticed something strange: Why was the mansion so quiet?
Every time the power had gone out, the Terran had caused a lot of commotion. Why not tonight?
"Hey! What are the Terran doing? Get the lights back on!" Darsus rang the bell on his desk and called out to the people who should have been in the neighboring room. However, there was no answer. The darkness and the silence were suffocating.
"Is anyone there?!" Darsus raised his voice. Irritated, he stood up and pushed open the door to the neighboring room with great force. But all that greeted him was silent darkness.
There were usually two Methuselah and four Terran in the room. But the only evidence that there had been people in the room were two half-empty coffee cups on the table. There were also some cards laid out, as if a game of poker had been going on.
"Hey! Where did you go?"
He looked down at the still-steaming coffee in the cups. Darsus was starting to feel concerned at the situation. It was hard to imagine why the Terran and the Methuselah would have left him unguarded without saying a word. Something must have happened. Clutching the long-sword in his hand, the old Methuselah carefully pushed open the door that led out into the corridor.
The corridor was silent. Apart from the sound of a ticking clock, the place was as dead as a tomb. The lights didn't show any sign of coming back on, either. But there was also a dull metallic smell in the air—the smell of blood.
"WHAT?!" The almost three-hundred-year old vampire yelped. It was close to a scream. He took a step back. The two men who should have been in the neighboring room were lying there, dead. Their ribcages had been sliced open. Darsus almost vomited. In the black voids of their chests, he could see absolutely nothing. Their hearts had been scooped out: a sure-fire way to kill a Methuselah.
"What's happened?! What's going on?!" Darsus quickly glanced around the corridor. What were his men doing? How could the electric eyes placed all over the mansion have overlooked this?!
A voice came from behind the confused Methuselah: "Thierry Darsus, isn't it? Of Count Four?"
Turning around, he could just about make out the figure of a tall man in the corridor. It was a young man with a long metal staff in his left hand. His priest's garments were covered in holes and tears. His right arm hung loosely from the elbow.
This was the first time Darsus had seen those burning green eyes behind the blonde hair. But he knew who this man was without introduction: "Hugue de Watteau! Is it you?!"
The priest suddenly turned into a demon, running down the corridor with terrifying speed. He didn't have a purpose. It was like he was trying to run away. He rotated his staff toward the old man. His animal ferocity made the hairs on Darsus' body stand on end.
"How did you get here?!" Darsus couldn't help asking, despite knowing no answer would be forthcoming. He desperately parried the attacks with his sword. Where were the electric eyes and the Methuselah and Terran that should have been watching everything?
The swordsman remained wordless. He only moved to continue the barrage of attacks. Hugue used his weight well and swung his staff toward Darsus' skull. A Methuselah should have been able to avoid a simple attack like that. However, Hugue moved faster than Darsus judged. Although Darsus managed to escape the blow, the tip of the staff caught his forehead.
"Scummy Terran tricks!" Darsus felt rage as the warm blood trickled down his face. Finally, the wild beast within the Methuselah had awoken. With a howl, he launched himself and his sword at Hugue. "Don't get carried away, monkey!"
The sword was aimed straight at Hugue's face. If the priest had incorrectly timed his counter move, the sword would have sliced off his face. The metal clashed. The priest took a defensive stance, ready to take on the super-human strength of the vampire. However, Hugue lost his balance.
Darsus didn't miss his chance. He aimed straight for the right side of Hugue's face. If Hugue didn't move his staff up to block, this was going to be the end of his good looks. Just a few seconds before he met his death, he managed to raise it in a magnificent defense. There was a terrible metallic sound, and the staff was flung from Hugue's hands. He had lost his only weapon. He was completely defenseless now. Darsus had won. "Die, Watteau!"
"Those who live by the sword..."
Just as the blade should have finished Hugue off, there came a murky curse. The deathblow was stopped by a short dagger millimeters from Hugue's face. It was a miracle. Before Darsus had a chance to realize, Hugue had pulled out a dagger; the swordsman had seized his chance and, with a grim smile, he readied to kill Darsus.
"Shall die by the sword! Amen!"
Darsus had lost his balance. There was no chance of escape for him now. From the left side of his chest, through his heart and to his right shoulder, a gaping wound had been opened. The sliced arteries spurted blood. "Ugh!"
For a Terran, the blow would have meant instant death. The Methuselah were more difficult to kill. But even so, damage like that would mean a vampire wouldn't last long. Darsus dropped his sword and tried to let out a scream, but he couldn't...
The impact of the blow had pushed him to the floor. Hugue placed his foot on the old man's chest. Blood gushed from the wound with great force. The old man's eyes were white with fear; he couldn't even scream out in pain. Hugue didn't seem to even register the terror and agony in the old man's eyes. He simply readied his dagger. "Die, Darsus!"
"Wa-wait. Hear me out!" He literally coughed the words out. He looked up at the swordsman. The only thing that indicated that Hugue had a soul was the gleaming within his green eyes.
Darsus continued. It was his only chance. "I didn't have anything to do with the massacre at Amsterdam Church! I promise!"
"Nothing, you say?" The swordsman's words were calm, but that made them all the more terrifying. "Do you think that's why I want to kill you?"
"Am I wrong?" Darsus looked up at the swordsman, silently pleading for something they could work out. He wanted to buy some time. He just had to hold Hugue off until his men reached him. He had to keep the conversation going. "Or is it the Watteau clan's destruction ten years ago? I didn't have a hand in that, either. It was Count of Bruges who ordered that! It was Gie!
"Bruges?" A modicum of emotion flickered in those almost glassy eyes. With the blade still thrust toward the old vampire, the swordsman spoke, his tone harsh and cutting: "Gie. Gie de Granwelle did it, you say?"
"That's right! He gave the order! It was all him. I only heard about it afterward!"
"Bruges..." The swordsman looked into the distance. He pursed his lips as if he had found something suddenly very funny, and he started to laugh. "I had my revenge back then."
"Th-that's right. It wasn't me." Darsus tried to pacify the man whose blade was perilously close to him. He screwed up his face in a half-smile, as if to look like he was joining in with the joke. His blood had stopped flowing, but Darsus couldn't make any sudden movements. If he could just buy himself some time... "Watteau. I think there has been a terrible misunderstanding between us. I have a proposition. What do you think? Let's talk this all over. Gie killed your family, and tonight, you killed mine. Surely we're even now? Gie is gone, so there is no need to kill me now."
"There is one thing I want to ask you." His voice was still cold, but Darsus could hear that something had changed in his tone. "Depending on your answer, I may leave killing you for another day. Ten years ago, a girl of the Watteau clan was kidnapped. Where is she? Is she still alive?"