CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Swan Inn

May 16, 1592

Simon sat by the small, filthy window of Nicholas's bedroom, concentrating all his attention on the rushing stream outside. Strange but even with the window shut and a distance of nearly twenty feet he could hear the roar of the water as clearly as though he were sitting on the riverbanks.

He felt a mouth kiss his neck but by this time he'd become practiced in not shuddering, didn't even have to dig his nails into his palm to suppress his true emotions.

Nicholas, wearing naught but a cream silk shirt, moved to a small wood table by the fireplace and poured a goblet of light, golden wine, adding a small sprig of rosemary before he extended it to Simon.

"A loving cup," he said and leaned over to kiss Simon before they drank from the cup at the same time.

He accepted the embrace and drank deeply to suppress his desire to gag. Another glance out the window showed him the sky was beginning to lighten. It seemed that in that one moment between pitch-black night and the sky changing to violet, Nicholas's skin went from snow-white perfection to the dull, unhealthy look of an invalid in his last throes of illness. His eyes lost their spark and deep black circles appeared beneath them. Would the creature undergo any further metamorphosis, as the dawn grew closer?

"I must begin my rest," Nicholas said, his voice labored and uneven. "Please take me to the cabinet, lover."

Wondering what Nicholas meant to do, Simon grabbed him about the waist and took him to the small wooden cabinet where he stored his clothing.

"Remove some of the clothing," the creature whispered, feeling like dead weight in Simon's arms.

Simon opened the top of the cabinet and removed a half dozen lawn shirts before turning back to Nicholas.

"Put me in… inside… and co… cover… me…"

Simon could surmise the rest. He found himself straining when he lifted Nicholas's weight—the creature had drained him considerably throughout the night. Simon had deep gashes in his neck and both wrists, as well as wounds on the more intimate parts of his body that he'd rather not remember.

He placed Nicholas's body in the cabinet and concealed his presence with the shirts but before he could slam the top shut, a halting voice spoke from beneath the clothing. "I am… I can normally get myself hidden but… tarried too… late. Stay… use bed… talk, tonight… love you…"

Simon brought the top down with a bang that reverberated throughout the small room and ran to the fireplace, chamber pot in hand. He gobbled up the ash from the fireplace and then shoved his finger down his throat, emptying his stomach into the chamber pot.

Loving cup, Simon thought with a sneer. No doubt the wine was drugged so he'd spend the daylight hours in a stupor, waking up just in time to service that…

No! He would not think of what he'd done with Nicholas during the night… all he would do is give thanks that the sodomite had not violated him. It accepted his explanation that loving a man was new to him and seemed content with the kissing and cuddling young couples engaged in before they wed.

Still, even that left Simon cold and shaking, feeling acutely the loss Dr. Dee had foretold. To gain the gift of immortality, he'd had to prostitute his body to a sodomite. His flesh crawled at the thought of that… that thing touching him. It would pay dearly for all he'd had to do that long night once he no longer needed it.

Simon had much to do during the day if his plans were to succeed, but before he could do anything, he must find some equilibrium, restore some semblance of calm to his spirit.

He stalked to the door of the rooms Nicholas rented and grabbed the arm of a plump serving wench passing by. "You! Fetch me a bath."

"Ain't no one allowed in them rooms during the day, milord."

"Not even for five gold pieces?"

The girl's berry-brown eyes widened and she dashed down the stairs, returning several minutes later with three burly footmen carrying a large oak tub filled with steaming water.

Simon gave each man a silver piece and then turned to the little serving wench. "What is your name, girl?"

"Molly, milord."

"Will you wash me, Molly?"

"Aye, milord!" she said, and Simon was hard put not to laugh at her enthusiastic gap-toothed smile. He leaned back and allowed the girl to soap him down. He had to wash the scent of the sodomite off his skin before he could do anything else. The bath was soothing his spirit, as was his view of Molly's magnificent tits, temptingly displayed in her low-cut blouse.

"Are you a virgin, Molly?"

"No, milord. Shall I go to the bed, then?"

"No," Simon said sharply, remembering all that he'd suffered through on that devil-damned bed. He gave the wench a smile to take the rebuke from his voice and stood up, smiling at her awed stare.

He laid the girl beside the fireplace on his black silk cloak and laughed when she exclaimed, "I ain't never felt such fine material."

"Have you ever felt anything so fine as this?" he said with a roguish grin and guided her hand to his cock.

Simon took his time, savoring every inch of feminine skin with soft kisses and pets before he plunged into his willing partner. Molly may have been a mere peasant and not all that attractive with her freckles and coarse features but after the horror of last night, the girl's touch, her wonderful soft curves—all of it was like a benediction to him; the lovemaking made him feel whole again. Now he could consign the night and its filthy happenings to the most remote corner of his mind, never to think of it again.

After the girl left, Simon dressed quickly in an open-necked lawn shirt and dark hose. Rummaging about Nicholas's rooms, he found a quill and parchment and scrawled a message to John Dee, awaiting news at Simon's home, along with Dr. Ahmed. Nicholas did have some cleverness—he insisted Simon leave his home with no companions and no word of where he was going. Simon nearly laughed allowed—stupid creature, thinking it could defeat Lord Baldevar by draining his blood and pressing a sleeping potion upon him.

Downstairs, he found a young lad willing to take the message back to his house in London. The Swan was in the village of Cheswick, not a far distance. With luck, Dr. Dee and Dr. Ahmed should arrive well before noon.

Simon sprawled against a venerable oak tree to await the arrival of his friends, enjoying the warm sun on his face. If everything went according to plan today, this might well be the last time he saw the day so why should he shut himself up in Nicholas's dark rooms?

Nicholas—Simon's mouth turned down in contempt. If the creature was this foolish after two hundred years of life, what kind of soft-witted fool was he as a mortal boy? How could he trust Simon so blindly? No doubt the minstrel thought himself safe from harm because Simon couldn't transform without his blood. Well, that was the last mistake Nicholas would ever have the privilege of making.

Then, if his faith in a man he barely knew wasn't enough, look at the way the creature lived! Hiding away in a chest during the day—how utterly foolish. What if the inn caught on fire? What if a light-fingered maid decided to help herself to his clothes and left the cabinet open so he was exposed to the sun?

Simon would have far better defenses. He'd given the matter a great deal of thought and decided he'd return to Yorkshire and his isolated estate for this process of transformation. Remaining in London, a crowded city with no real privacy and Elizabeth's court aware of his every move, would be foolish.

Simon knew he could not remain in England indefinitely. He'd already written a letter to the queen, begging leave from the court due to illness; John Dee would deliver it into her keeping. He had to go where no one knew him or his habits. Perhaps he'd try Italy… he'd always wanted to see the magnificence of Florence. Of course, Simon didn't think it wise to stay in one place for any length of time.

Money wasn't a problem—he had gold enough to maintain a lavish lifestyle for decades. Too, he had no intention of allowing this new life to interfere in his business affairs. It should be a simple matter to hire employees to run his trade company during the day and then have them meet with him at night to report to him and receive instructions. As for his estates, he already had a competent steward in charge.

Simon thought it would be marvelously easy to hold on to his assets. If he stayed abroad, after a certain number of years, he'd simply declare himself dead and start writing letters in a new hand—that of the "son" who inherited his dead father's fortune. And by traveling from place to place, he'd have new opportunities to increase his wealth. Yes, this immortality was going to be a good dung. He'd have everything he'd ever wanted… unimaginable power and wealth, and never again could some disease make him quake in fear…

"My lord." A gentle hand on his shoulder made Simon's eyes fly open.

Dr. Ahmed stood over him. "My lord, I believe the suffering that Master Aermville mentioned has started. You are feverish and your skin is clammy to the touch. I have brought medication but are you sure you can handle the tasks before you?"

"I must handle them," Simon said and accepted his physician's help to rise off the ground. When he stood up, the world spun around him and he vomited again.

Dr. Ahmed guided him to the small stream and after tasting the water to assure himself it wasn't overly polluted, he spooned some into his patient's mouth.

After a few sips of cool water, Simon felt somewhat restored, though he needed to lean on his physician as they walked back to the inn. "Think you I need blood already?"

"We brought a small amount of chicken's blood." Once they got to Nicholas's suite, Dr. Ahmed handed him a small brown flask and Simon drank thirstily, surprised to find the pounding in his head abated when he finished drinking the blood.

Simon nodded to John Dee, standing in the center of the room, a heavy black trunk at his feet. "Where is the vampire?"

Simon went to the cabinet and asked Dr. Ahmed to stand with his back to the window so his body would block the sunlight from entering the room. Nicholas destroyed by the sun would be no bloody good to him.

Simon and John Dee peered down at the sleeping creature. "It does not look… it doesn't seem alive, my lord."

"No," Simon said thoughtfully. "It doesn't." Nicholas no longer had pasty skin and black circles to mar his complexion. Now he looked like a dead man lying in state, skin waxen and tense but somehow slack at the same time. Nicholas did not appear to be breathing and when Simon put his hand on the creature's chest, several moments passed before he felt a faint heartbeat beneath his hand.

Simon met Dr. Dee's eyes and the astrologist saw his uncertainty. "My lord, you worry it will pounce when you lay hands upon it?"

"Aye," Simon said. He gave the body a cautious poke, ready to leap away should the eyes in that deadly calm face open. But Nicholas went on in his unnatural slumber even when Simon jabbed him with the hilt of his sword.

"My lord, you must be careful and allow no ill wish to dwell in your thoughts concerning the vampire when you hold him. I cannot be sure but I believe the thing will only rise if it senses danger."

"My lord," Dr. Ahmed implored his patient, "the worst part of this day lies before you. Perhaps we should desist. We can put the vampire back in the cabinet and he'll arise none the wiser of your adventures today."

"And then what?" Simon demanded. "Did we not all agree Master Aermville could not be trusted—that he no doubt means to make me his catamite and take all my blood before leaving me a corpse? Who can guess how many times he's offered immortality to susceptible fools planning all along to take everything and give nothing in return? This time, though, he shall be fooled. Do not concern yourself over me. I shall nap on the ride home to restore myself."

"You are right, my lord." John Dee sighed. "We cannot chance what he might do to you should he rise this evening so let us see if we cannot wrest from this creature that which he has no intention of giving freely."

The nap helped, though Simon was still shaky on his feet when he and his two capable practitioners began their preparations.

They'd decided to use a solar on the third floor for the ritual, all three regretting the loss of the laboratory and the cedar-wood altar where they'd done so many works. Unfortunately, the laboratory was in the cellar so it would not provide the light they'd desperately need to complete their experiment.

Simon began the work by nailing a thick curtain over the window to protect Nicholas's sleeping form from the sun. Then all three kneeled down on the floor, saying the prayer John Dee had designed for daily protection from all harm.

Next, Simon cast a circle that encompassed John Dee, Dr. Ahmed, and the prone body of Nicholas Aermville, and that had the covered window as its northern point. In the space between the outer and inner circle, Simon placed lilies and mistletoe. Both provided powerful protection but in The Occult Philosophy, Dr. Agrippa hinted that mistletoe could be used to gain immortality. In between the flowers, he used a rowan wand dipped in balm of Gilead to write the names of Aub and Vevaphel. They were angels that protected from those that attack by night, so Simon thought they should provide protection against Master Aermville.

Simon consecrated the circle and then gave a plea for help in his extraordinary experiment. "O God Who hast created all things, through Thy Holy Name, grant that this experiment may become true and veritable in my hands through Thy Holy Seal. Amen."

Next, using the blood of a virgin woman that John Dee had acquired the night before, Simon drew the Sixth Pentacle of Mars on the floor—it not only provided protection if the magician was wounded, but his enemies' own weapons would turn against them.

Nicholas was moved onto the pentacle and Simon removed a sword from beneath a crimson silk cloth—never before used and saved for an extraordinary occasion. John Dee handed him a silver brazier filled with holy water, rosemary, marjory, and mint. The sword was passed through the smoke and then Simon consecrated his instrument with a chant from the Grimorium Verum. "I conjure thee, sword, by God the Father Almighty, by the virtue of heaven, and by all the stars which rule, by the virtue of the four elements, to receive such virtue herein that we may obtain by thee the perfect issue of all our desires. Amen."

Now Simon put the virgin steel to his right wrist and slashed horizontally, bemused by the blood that poured from him. Then he turned to his left wrist and repeated the process before handing the blade to John Dee.

Dr. Dee accepted the sword while Dr. Ahmed moved to Simon's side, dragging his patient to the curtained window.

"Not yet," Simon whispered when he saw the physician pluck up the linen strips he'd use to bandage Simon's wrists. "Aermville said… must be drained to point… of death."

The slashing of Simon's wrists had a dual purpose. One was to drain him of his blood that he might be able to accept the vampire's substance into his body; the other was for Simon's blood to serve as sacrifice. Simon had bled into a gold chalice Dr. Dee held beneath him, and now the astrologist raised the chalice high, beseeching the spirits' aid before they attempted to steal Nicholas's blood. "Come hither, ye who love all kinds of mockeries and deceits. Come hither and remain, and consecrate this enchantment, seeing that God the Almighty Lord hath destined ye for such."

Dr. Ahmed restrained himself until the chant was complete and then held his hand up. "Enough! My lord, can you see?"

"Spots," Simon managed to whisper and thought he felt something on his arm.

"My lord, I just gave you a fierce blow to your upper arm you did not react to. You no longer have blood in your vital areas; I must staunch your wounds else you'll die."

"It's time, John," Simon rasped, forcing the words out. He managed to raise his hand and poked himself in the eyes so his vision might clear and he could see his friend bend over the prone body of Nicholas.

Sword in one hand, copper basin in the other, John Dee used the point of his boot to nudge Nicholas's head over, exposing his neck. He then put the sword to the vampire's flesh and cut him open.

In the next moment, he was kicked from the circle and the creature was on its feet, screaming in a terrible shriek that brought Simon back to semiconsciousness. He felt Dr. Ahmed grab him close and heard the physician say firmly, "No closer, foul creature! I can throw aside this curtain and expose the room to full day before you take one step toward me."

"Simon!" Nicholas cried out. "What has happened? Who are these men? How did they invade our sanctuary?"

"Our sanctuary?" Simon questioned and threw back his head to laugh—an awful sound that made even the vampire flinch. "These men are my dearest allies and we mean to have your blood or let the sun incinerate your worthless carcass."

The creature sank to its knees. Simon would never be certain whether it suddenly appeared drained of strength because Simon betrayed it or because it simply couldn't defend itself long during the day.

Tears came out of its eyes and it bowed its head. "I trusted you…"

"Fool," Simon said harshly. "What did you say to me? That you hoped to bring out my… tender side with your blood? There is no softness in my heart for perverted creatures that dangle immortality as long as I endure their unnatural embrace. But even knowing you probably meant to destroy me once you had your fill of my fine form and blood, I am prepared to offer mercy. Allow Doctor Dee to gather your blood and we shall take you to a dark corner when you've served your purpose. Tonight, when you arise, you leave London and never attempt to contact me again. Are we agreed?"

"Simon, no," Nicholas cried. "Love me please! You are breaking my heart. Though you'll transform once you drink my blood, you'll never survive the procedure without my guidance…"

"I'd rather find myself in hell than spend eternity beholden to a sodomite. Whether I survive is not your concern. Are we agreed?" Simon nodded to John Dee, standing warily a few paces from Nicholas.

Nicholas glanced at John Dee, holding the sword out, at Dr. Ahmed and his hand clutching a fistful of curtain, at the pure malice shining in Simon's gaze, and finally nodded. "Do with me as you will, Lord Baldevar."

John Dee picked up the hurled copper basin and cut Nicholas again, allowing a generous portion of blood to flow into the basin. Throughout the bleeding, quiet tears poured from the vampire's eyes and he shook from the force of his weeping. John seemed disturbed by the creature's sorrow but Simon felt no emotion save fierce triumph and utter disdain for Nicholas Aermville. To have such extraordinary power and allow yourself to be broken by love! Simon would guard his gift jealously—he'd never part with this magick for something as foolish and sentimental as love.

Dr. Dee brought the copper basin to Simon and he glanced at Nicholas Aermville—saw the creature had once again dropped into his strange daytime state.

"Raise the curtains, Doctor Ahmed," Simon ordered, wondering if Nicholas knew he had no intention of allowing him to live. Surely Master Aermville might seek him out and try to destroy him for his treachery.

Blinding sunlight filled the room and Simon felt something that had not entered him since the night he killed his father—fear. Nicholas Aermville did not die quickly—his body first smoked and then caught on fire and the creature screamed until the very end, when the flames finally reached his heart and ended his unnatural existence.

At last, there was only a small pile of ash where Nicholas had lain, and Dr. Ahmed pressed the basin to Simon's lips. "My lord, you must drink quickly else the blood shall lose its potency."

Simon shuddered, remembering how Nicholas howled out his torment. Could he end that way? If he took this blood, always he'd worry that such a fate would be his.

No! He was stronger than Nicholas Aermville, more clever and cunning. No one would ever get him near the sun. Simon clutched the basin and swallowed down the blood, grimacing at the fetid taste. He hoped to find blood more tolerable as he drank more of it—right now he had to force it down.

Simon heard a high-pitched screech of agony and realized he'd made the noise. Dear God… the pain, it consumed him. Never had he been in such torment.

Dimly, he heard Dr. Ahmed and Dr. Dee praying over him, beginning the prayers and conjurations that were his only hope to get through this hellish experience alive.