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Subject: Champagne and the Tower of Laments |
This story comes after Saving the Future #11 The Hall of Feasting was high and dark, lit by many-branched candlesticks. The drapes were wine red. The furniture was heavy mahogany. The murder victim was stretched out on the long dining table amongst the golden dishes, a thick wooden shaft protruding from his chest. Lord Bloodthirst, master vampire, was dead. One of the people in his castle had killed him. “What we expect you to tell us,” Prince Sanguine told Champagne,” is who did this.” Champagne was on a fast learning curve. She’d already learned that she had somehow been transported with the Lair Legion to some strange other world. She’d learned not to believe a dark mysterious stranger in the human refugee camp when he said “Come with me,” no matter how deep and compelling his eyes were. She’d learned that being carried over hundreds of miles of jungle by a giant bat wasn’t a fun experience. The dead travel fast, and they don’t believe in seatbelts. “And why would I be helping you out, exactly?” Champagne asked her kidnapper. “Because there are many kinds of deaths, and if you fail us you will experience all of them.” “Good answer. Right then, you’d better explain what happened to, er, Lord Bloodthirst.” Champagne went to examine the body as the saturnine vampire prince told her the facts as he knew them. “This is the Tower of Laments, on the borders of Truvelo, built of old as a bastion against the nightkind.” “That would be a euphemism for vampires, right?” Champagne said. “I guess it wasn’t a good enough bastion.” “Vampire is a very imprecise term,” Prince Sanguine objected. “Amongst the noble undead there are many distinctions. Bloodwalkers. Plaguemasters. Charnelwraiths. Gravemorts. Deathdancers. Nightburrowers. Fleshreavers, if you can count them as noble. But yes, this place fell to the children of the night, long ago. The empire of Abadonn grows ever greater.” Champagne checked the body. It was only a rotted skeleton now, time of death about four hundred years ago, Champagne would guess. Of course, since vampires in horror movies regained their true age on getting staked that wasn’t going to be a big help. There was a chair leg through Lord Bloodthirst’s rib cage. His rich rotted tunic was shredded to tatters over his heart where the stake stuck out. “The Tower is an outpost,” went on Sanguine. “A small number of us dwell here to take tribute from the outlying lands where we farm mortals.” “Who lives here?” Champagne wanted a list of suspects. “Lord Bloodthirst, of course, and his brides, Mortifica and Soulravyn. Lord Blackgoth, his assistant. And Lord Allrue was visiting to consult the library, with his Lady Painwrack.” “I’m guessing these weren’t actually their names before they became vampires.” Champagne checked for tracks in the dust, but vampires don’t leave footprints or fingerprints. “The life before death is meaningless and irrelevant.” “No-one else in the castle? No servants? No underwear-fondling hunchbacked butlers?” “The Tower of Laments is but a small outpost. There were only the cattle, penned in the dungeons below.” Champagne looked up uneasily. “Cattle in the goes-moo sense or cattle in the actually humans but we treat them as food sources sense?” “They were mortals.” “Were? They’re not now?” “Whoever murdered Lord Bloodthirst also slaughtered the cattle and drank their blood.” “And you know this because?” “I will show you the dungeons,” said Prince Sanguine. “I just need to finish up here,” Champagne said. She looked around the Hall of Feasting. Apart from the mess on the table, and one deep red drape that had fallen loose without its rope tie, there was nothing much out of order. “Okay, so Bloodthirst came into the room and he took his golden goblet from his place at the head of the table – the whole thing’s laid out for dinner and you can see which goblets have been moved. Just that big one and another smaller one from down there. He went to this pitcher to fill his cup with, eew, blood, what a surprise. Then he heard or saw something. He put his cup down there, where you see it now, and he turned around. He was facing this way when he got attacked, and he fell backwards disturbing the place setting here.” “Very good,” admired the Prince. “I see I was right to bring you into this.” “The only other thing that’s been moved that couldn’t have been disturbed by the struggle is this dish of anchovies on the floor here. Vampires like anchovies?” Prince Sanguine seemed a little embarrassed. “We do not ask and we do not tell.” “Was Lord Bloodthirst into anchovies? But if so why set the dish down over there on the ground, next to that old rusted machinery?” “I really couldn’t say. We shall speak no more of engraulida or other salt-water fish.” The vampire prince didn’t like the secrets of the undead being exposed. Or the fetishes. Champagne quickly moved on. “Whoever the killer was, he or she was able to get very close to Lord Bloodthirst, which suggests it was someone he knew, not an intruder to the castle.” “An intruder would not be possible,” Sanguine said. “There are magic wards set about this place. Any intruder, living or undead, who passed inside them would become known to Lord Bloodthirst and his kin.” “In or out?” “Yes, either. All the undead here would know.” “Well that helps,” said Champagne. “So it’s your classic locked castle mystery. One other thing. What’s that mechanism over there?” Lord Sanguine looked in the direction she was pointing. “Ah, that rusted junk was once the shutter mechanism for the roof windows. It was meant by those who built this fortress to be a final defense against the children of the night, to allow sunlight to pour down upon us as we assaulted the hall. It was easy to thwart. It has long been disabled.” He looked at the old machinery scornfully. “And greater undead such as I can withstand the suns rays for a period anyhow.” “Okay. Can we see the rest of the tower now, including the cells where the not-cattle-but-people were?” Lord Sanguine led her down some steep stone stairs to the bowels of the Tower of Lamenting. There were unpleasant smells and more unpleasant stains. There was a round chamber with a deep pit in the center and six cells leading off it. Each of the cells had a barred iron door, and the bars of each had been bent aside by someone with massive strength. There were no prisoners. “But smell here,” Lord Sanguine said. “The trail of fresh blood is very obvious. They were dragged from their cells, slaughtered, consumed, then tossed down this shaft into the running water below.” “My smell’s not as good as a vampire’s, or whatever you want to call yourself,” said Champagne. “But you’re saying there were people in each of these prisons, and something got in there and slaughtered them all.” “A child of the night would not need to break the bars to get inside,” Prince Sanguine said. “But he or she would need to break the gates to get the corpses out and throw them down the well.” Champagne peered down into the deep hole. There was the faintest sound of rushing water below. An iron security grill six feet or so down the shaft had also been ripped away, and from the way the metal had twisted it had been done from above. “Why throw them down there, though?” “Because then we could not question them,” Sanguine explained as if to a child. “You could… question them after they’d been killed.” “There are those amongst us who have that skill. But without their corpses we can discover nothing.” Champagne searched the rest of the area. The cupboard of torture equipment was in good order and the little chamber used as a food store was empty. “How many people were held down here?” “Six. The newest had arrived but last night, due tribute of the Wall People.” “And you can smell all of their blood? And that couldn’t just be from, um, earlier snacks?” “Their blood was shed last night, each of them, around the time that Lord Bloodthirst was destroyed.” Champagne had to accept the expert testimony. Sanguine wasn’t really a suspect. He’d been sent by the Eternal Empress to investigate the murder. She lowered a stone on a string to measure the depth of the well, then swung it around to test the sides. “Do you wish to question those who were in the Tower of Lament at the time of the murder?” asked the vampire prince. “Not yet,” said Champagne. “Keep them all together but don’t let them talk about this so they can fix their stories. Let’s search this place from top to bottom first.” “As you say,” agreed Prince Sanguine. “You will make a most worthy addition to our ranks.” Champagne stopped short. “Addition to your ranks?” Sanguine kissed her fingertips. “I do not drink wine,” he told her with a charming smile, “but I am developing a taste for Champagne.” The search of the rest of the tower was fascinating. At last Champagne was ready to talk to the suspects. She had them all assemble in the Hall of Feasting but she and Sanguine took them into a quiet alcove to speak to each alone. “Who do you think killed Lord Bloodthirst?” Champagne asked Lady Mortifica, a dark-haired beauty with a white complexion. “Soulravyn,” answered the dead lord’s senior bride promptly. “She feared I would tell my husband of her infidelities with Allrue. As if her pathetic affairs are any interest of mine. I could have had Allrue if I wanted.” “But where were you when the murder happened?” “I was in my coffin, resting. I’d had a very long night the night before, flying all the way to the umber hills to check on a band of adventurers that needed decimating. Soulravyn should have helped, but you try getting that girl to turn a hand’s work.” Soulravyn was unrepentant when confronted with her unfaithfulness. “Bloodthirst wouldn’t know what to do with a vampiress if you gave him a book of instructions,” she sniffed. “Oh, he’s active enough with his mortal conquests, but as soon as he had a real undead woman in his arms he’s not even interested. If only he could have been like he was before he turned me to the dark! But Allrue… Allrue makes me feel truly dead! We are in love, and I don’t care who knows it!” “That chair leg that killed Lord Bloodthirst,” said Prince Sanguine. “We found it came from your bedchamber. We found the broken chair.” Soulravyn’s brows lowered. “What kind of trick is this? I wasn’t even in my bedchamber when Lord Blackgoth found my pathetic husband. I was in Allrue’s bed, with him. He can show you the marks.” “It could be that someone’s trying to frame Soulravyn,” admitted Champagne. “Lord Allrue’s wife Lady Painwrack, for example?” “Or Mortifica,” said Soulravyn. “She’s never liked me. She’s so jealous. In fact I bet Mortifica did it. She was getting all upset because Bloodthirst wanted to add that new mortal to the family as his third bride.” “Bloodthirst was intending, to, erm, vampirize one of the human prisoners?” “Yes, that little brunette girl from the Wall People. But as soon as he’d got her dead he’d have lost interest. He always does, the pervert. Did.” “We all knew about Soulravyn and Lord Allrue, of course,” said Lord Blackgoth with a smirk when it was his time for answers. “All except Bloodthirst. He had no idea, he was so besotted with his mortals. Why do you think Allrue kept on visiting so often? The library? Hah!” He spat the name Allrue with contempt. “You didn’t approve of Lord Allrue’s affair?” Champagne probed. “Allrue isn’t fit to be a Lord. Not fit to be undead. The way he’s treated Lady Painwrack? She has to know he was cheating on her, and yet she… So loyal. So classy. Not the slightest sign, by word or deed, that she had any preference for any other.” “Another like you?” Blackgoth shook his head. “Not while Allrue survives. She is too honorable. And I, I am nothing! A mere assistant to Lord Bloodthirst, not even master of a meagre hold like this? What have I to offer to a great Lady like her?” “You were the one who discovered Lord Bloodthirst was dead?” “Yes. I’d been in the library, trying to divert Lady Painwrack. She must have known that her husband was up there in her bed with that vile slut Soulravyn. I came to the Feasting Hall to fetch a fresh pitcher of blood for her – assuming Bloodthirst hadn’t consumed it all in his pathetic courting of the mortal girl he was obsessed with! That was when I found him.” “So Bloodthirst had been in the hall with one of the humans, the one he intended to… convert?” “There was no sign of her when I found him. I imagine she’d already been slaughtered by his murderer by then.” Champagne tried another tack. “You like anchovies quite a lot,” she said, with an apologetic glance at the prince. “We found quite a lot of jars of anchovies in oil in your bedroom.” Blackgoth scowled. “That’s my own business. I don’t go on about Bloodthirst’s mortal wenches, or Mortifica’s collection of human teeth, or Soulravyn biting the tongues out of the mortals she kisses.” Champagne had one other question about Lord Blackgoth, but she asked it of Prince Sanguine. “Now that Lord Bloodthirst is dead, who gets possession of the Tower of Laments?” “Blackgoth, I suppose,” the prince said. “Well, there’s another motive, then.” Lord Allrue seemed more irritated at the disruption to his visit than bothered by the death of his host. “I come here for the library,” he insisted. “I’m a scholar and there are some fascinating historical tomes here, captured from before the time this tower fell to darkness. Soulravyn? A pleasant diversion, to be sure, and an imaginative little slattern, but nothing more. There are a dozen women I could have who are better than her – but none of them reside in this castle. So I make do.” “Was she with you, diverting you, when Lord Bloodthirst was killed?” “She was. Whoever killed her husband it was not her.” “Or you are both involved,” said Prince Sanguine. Lady Painwrack was quite insulted to be questioned by mortal cattle. “Really, Prince Sanguine, I thought you’d have better taste than this. It’s bad enough being confined to this dreary tower while we determine which miserable traitor killed Bloodthirst without being subjected to the bleatings of cattle.” “Cattle low,” Champagne told her. “Sheep bleat. Humans solve crimes. Did you know your husband was having an affair with Soulravyn?” “That is none of your business, mortal.” “Answer her,” commanded the prince. “Yes, I knew,” she said sulkily. “More bad taste. Nobody has standards any more. Like Mortifica being threatened by an insignificant mortal girl. Has she no self-confidence at all? Not that I could understand Bloodthirst’s obsession either.” “Some mortals are entrancing,” answered Prince Sanguine, tracing his fingers over the curve of Champagne’s neck. “Some only await the dark rebirth to become immortal.” “Where were you when Lord Bloodthirst’s murder was discovered, Lady Painwrack?” Champagne asked, trying to keep her mind on the job. “In the library, listening to that tedious little Blackgoth. I sent him to bring me fresh blood to have a break from his jabbering.” “Could you have got to the Hall of Feasting before him?” “And slain Bloodthirst? Why would I. Bloodthirst was my lover.” Champagne felt that vampires as a bunch would make very good soap opera stars. “You and Lord Bloodthirst?” “Why do you think I tolerated my husband’s constant research visits here? And if he can occupy himself with that little slut Soulravyn, well I am free to do as I please also.” “I thought Bloodthirst was, er, into mortals?” Lady Painwrack stuck her nose into the air and looked up with a defiant stare. “What two consenting undead do in their bedchamber is no business of humans,” she said. “But if you must know, a very experienced vampire such as I can take on the semblance of a mortal, for… for purposes of roleplay. All one needs is the correct underwiring. And that is all I shall say upon the matter.” “Did you mind your lover showing an interest in an actual mortal, like Mortifica apparently did?” “I was with the spineless Blackgoth when the murder occurred. I have nothing else to say.” And that was all she did say. Prince Sanguine looked over at Champagne. “Have you learned anything that might help us to solve this, my sweet beloved?” “Almost there,” Champagne replied. “I just need to do one more thing at the cells and then I’m ready.” The prince trailed her to the dungeon, where she dropped three large stones down the well-shaft, counting under her breath to time their fall. “I think we’re ready for the murderer to be revealed now,” she said, smiling at the prince. The suspects were all waiting in the Hall of Feasting, mostly looking daggers at each other. Champagne took her time explaining, going over the points of the case and the clues as she saw them, one by one. “There were a couple or red herrings, of course,” she said. “Or anchovies, if you prefer. One of them was the chair leg. Lord Bloodthirst’s tunic was shredded over his heart, and a blunt chair leg would have pushed the cloth into him and made maybe a single tear. Sharp objects would be needed for that kind of damage, like claws maybe.” “What are you suggesting?” said Mortifica, coldly. “I’m suggesting that Bloodthirst didn’t die from a stake through his heart. I think somebody just reached in and scooped his heart right out.” “Only a very powerful vampire could do that,” said Lord Allrue, glancing at his wife. “Then somebody else discovered the body, before Lord Blackgoth did, and stuck the stake in to try and incriminate a rival. That person was the only one without an immediate alibi, of course, and one who resented Soulravyn enough to try and frame her: Mortifica.” The dead lord’s senior wife shrugged. “So? Next time I’ll stick the chair leg straight into the little hussy.” “In your dreams, you crone,” hissed Soulravyn. “Mortifica isn’t powerful enough to tear out Bloodthirst’s heart,” said Painwrack. “No, she just found the body before Blackgoth and tried to alter the evidence,” agreed Champagne. “For the true murderer we have to go back to the other clues, and to Lord Bloodthirst’s obsession with his newest captive, the girl from the Wall People.” “Little trollop,” muttered Mortifica. “She was up here with Bloodthirst just before his death,” Champagne said. “How does a girl get turned into a vampire anyhow?” “I drink a little of your blood,” Prince Sanguine told her. “Then you drink some of mine. On the third night you die of bliss, and three nights after you arise as my bride for all eternity.” “Um, thanks for that, er, clarification, your highness. So it’s reasonable to assume that Bloodthirst was intending to share a little blood with his new girlfriend. We have the two cups, we have the romantic candlelight…” “Lady Painwrack could have come upon them both and slaughtered them,” accused Soulravyn. “She’s old, so she’s powerful. It could have been revenge for my love with Allrue. Blackgoth’s covering for her. Everyone knows he’s insane with lust over her.” Champagne waited until the prince had commanded them all to silence again. “Painwrack might have killed them over a lovers’ quarrel about the new girl, jealous like Mortifica,” she admitted, deliberately putting the cat amongst the pigeons, “but the evidence points elsewhere. You see the only things we can say about the human prisoners are that their blood was shed last night and that they’re gone. Prince Sanguine assumed that all their blood was shed, but what if it was only a few drops, just enough for a vampire to smell? What if the humans weren’t killed then thrown into the deep water so they couldn’t be questioned, but freed?” “Freed?” objected the prince. “If they had left the keep alive we would have detected it.” Champagne agreed. She paced across the floor, explaining. “But the curtain is loose here. That’s because the curtain-rope is missing. It was used to lower the humans down the well so they could hide in a little side-passage I detected when I was sounding out the shaft earlier. You didn’t sense them leaving alive because they never left, just hid. The idea was to kill you all off one by one then set them free.” “That makes no sense at all!” objected Lord Allrue. “Who would do such a stupid thing?” “Nobody here,” agreed Champagne. “but what about the girl from the Wall People? The one who so charmed Lord Bloodthirst? The last one to be with him before he died? The one who could get close enough to him to rip out his heart?” “No mortal could do that,” said Mortifica, scornfully. Champagne looked around. “But a powerful enough vampire can appear as a human to other vampires. Lady Painwrack admitted it. And look, there's no footprints around the body, except mine now. If the Wall girl was a vampire in disguise, then you all sensed her enter. You invited her in!” The vampires looked at one another in dismay. “If this is true,” said the prince, “then we shall find the mortals cowering down the well.” “But I can’t allow that,” said Champagne. “And that’s where the anchovies come in.” “The anchovies?” puzzled Lord Allrue. “More importantly, the anchovy oil. The oil that Lord Blackgoth’s been using to get this ancient shutter mechanism working again, intending to assassinate Bloodthirst and his brides and claim control of the Tower of Laments so he could court Lady Painwrack. Isn’t that right, Blackgoth!” “Oh no!” gasped Painwrack, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “It was all for you!” Blackgoth appealed to the elder vampire. “He never got a chance to do it,” Champagne said, “because Allrue and Painwrack visited again and he didn’t want crispy-fried girlfriend. But fortunately I don’t care, and I’ve dragged this on long enough ‘till sunrise, so…” She slammed her hand down and activated the repaired shutter mechanism. The Hall of Feasting was flooded with dawn’s early light. Mortifica, Soulravyn, and Blackgoth screamed and burned to dust. Lady Painwrack and Lord Allrue made it almost to Champagne before they evaporated. Prince Sanguine ignored the burning of his body and strode to the mechanism, slamming the shutters down again. His blistered face was a cruel mask of rage. “You dare?” he snarled, his canine teeth extending and his hands becoming claws. “A greater vampire can withstand the sun for a measure. And now you shall know my wrath!” “One final point,” Champagne added quickly. “As silly as it sounds, I can’t help but conclude – hope – that the vampire who saved those humans is a good vampire, and that she heard me when I dropped the stones into the well and said it was time for the murderer to be revealed. Please?” “Yes,” said Grace O’Mercy, the Night Nurse, “I heard.” She leaped out of the shadows and fell upon the wounded prince. She tore out his heart. “I love being right,” smiled Champagne. Then, less happily, she added, “I was right about the you being good part, wasn’t I? I hope?” Grace pointed to her nurse’s cap with the big red cross on it. “First, do no harm,” she said. “Although I think Hippocrates of Kos probably excluded vampire lords from that instruction. And now the people I saved can safely escape down the well into the stream below.” “You’re not going with them?” Champagne asked. “They’re not too comfortable around vampires,” Grace answered. “Even nice ones. Besides, I have quite a lot more bloodsuckers to deal with here before I’m done.” “You’re speaking English,” Champagne realized, “Not just that thing vampires do to make you hear them in your head. You’re from Earth!” “And so are you. Very interesting.” “Why you are both very interesting,” said the Eternal Empress, appearing from the shadows with her court around her. “And just what I’ve been looking for. Come with me.” Continued in the Saving the Future round robin… |
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A Saving the Future Tie-In by Champagne, with a really tiny bit of editing via HH Mon May 19, 2008 at 10:54:03 am EDT |
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