Ivar found Rathgar waiting in his study, his expression pensive, and as he walked behind his desk to sit down, he could feel the tension emanating from the silver-haired vampire.
"What took you so long? You were supposed to be here last night", Ivar scolded.
"I needed to confirm that the information I received was accurate"
"And was it?"
"It was", Rathgar shifted uneasily in his chair.
"Tell me"
******************************
It didn't take long for Rathgar to extract the information he wanted from the Lycans, although by the time he was done, only one of them remained alive. Barely.
Moving quickly through the underground labyrinth, he emerged from a drain in a back alley outside of the citadel. Checking that no one had seen him, he made his way out into the bustling streets, falling into step with the sea of bodies, jostling against each other. This part of Garenthal was home to the common folk, those born without status or title, but it was not unfamiliar to Rathgar, and the people here were used to the sudden appearance of the King's Commander General, even as they remained fearful of him.
Weaving his way through the crowd, he turned down a side alley, filled with shadows and the foul stench of detritus left to rot for days or even weeks. Rathgar picked his way through the rotting debris, as he walked to the end of the alley and knocked softly on a large wooden door. He heard the faint sounds of movement from within and some minutes later, the door opened just a crack, to reveal a face so gaunt and lifeless, that he might have been mistaken for a corpse. Seeing Rathgar, he immediately opened the door wide and stood aside with his head bowed low, allowing him entry into the dimly lit room beyond.
Inside the cramped and sparsely furnished room, Rathgar saw more clearly the man's hollow cheeks and sunken, black eyes while his skin, like tanned leather, was stretched taut over his overly prominent bones. He was completely bald, not the merest hint of hair anywhere on his body, and he was dressed in his usual dark, brown cassock. Permanently hunched over, his movements were bird-like as he busied himself fixing a cup of herbs in boiling water for his guest.
"You look well Vasyris", Rathgar said, as he accepted the cup.
"As well as can be expected. What brings you here, my Lord?", Vasyris asked in a voice as dry as the desert winds.
"On our journey here, we were attacked by Lycans, I want to know who sent them"
"Of course, but you already know the answer", Vasyris replied, his nostrils flaring slightly at the scent of fresh Lycan blood, still clinging to Rathgar's clothes.
"Let's just say that I want a second opinion"
"It will take some time"
"I'm not in a hurry"
"It will not be easy"
"Neither is removing your heart from your chest but I am confident that I can"
"As you wish", Vasyris' head bobbed precariously atop his shoulders as he darted about the room, preparing another concoction.
******************************
It was late when Rathgar emerged from the side alley, the streets now empty, except for those late night revelers who were still staggering drunkenly from the local taverns as they tried to make their way home. The glow from the street lamps cast small pools of pallid light around them while struggling against the encroaching shadows. His glowing red eyes seemed to pierce the gloom around him, constantly looking for hidden threats, though none would dare to challenge him. Unhindered now by the crowds from before, he soon returned to the alley from which he had earlier arrived, and furtively glancing around to ensure he wasn't observed, he swiftly descended into the murky depths of the drain below.
Some time later, Rathgar climbed from another drain inside the citadel, hoisting himself gracefully from the hole in the pavement, before placing the heavy iron grill back in place. Immediately he sensed another presence close by, then looming up behind him, and the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. Turning he unsheathed his sword as he swung it behind him, resting the blade directly on the neck of his would-be assailant.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, you made enough of a racket to raise the dead from the crypts below the Council building", Mikhail clicked his tongue in disapproval, pushing the blade from his shoulder with a finger.
"Well no wonder you're awake", Rathgar returned, as he placed his sword back in its scabbard.
"Touch`e"
"Are you alone?", Rathgar murmured softly, his eyes looking past the older vampire into the darkness behind him.
Mikhail didn't answer but raised a quizzical brow at him, before a guarded look passed between them and he gave a careless shrug.
"What are you doing out here so late, old man?", Rathgar questioned him, as he began walking through the streets with Mikhail beside him.
"Sleep no longer seeks me out so I thought to take a walk outside when I sensed you...or rather smelled the Lycan blood that you seem to have bathed in", Mikhail answered, while casting a distasteful glance his way.
"At least your sense of smell is still sharp", Rathgar grunted.
"A lot more than that, I assure you"
The two vampires walked in silence for a time, enjoying the quiet emptiness of the city and the comforting cloak of darkness that crept through the deserted streets. For those who heard the sound of their footsteps, and bravely peeked out of their windows, they would have been greeted by the sight of the two silver-haired vampires strolling leisurely through the streets, much like two old friends.
"I take it you've been to see Vasyris", Mikhail spoke after a while.
Rathgar shrugged indifferently, not wishing to either deny or confirm the truth of his statement.
"It would be useless to deny it when I can clearly detect the smell of his vile herbs on your person", Mikhail continued in a reproachful tone.
"I have neither denied nor admitted to anything", Rathgar stated simply.
"Truly you test my patience, Lord Bane"
"Only because you allow it and if it is information that you seek, you had only to ask my Lord"
"Not here", Mikhail responded.
"Not now, I must return to the Royal Palace"
"Very well, you know where to find me", Mikhail muttered as he silently blended into the shadows and vanished in a wisp of smoke.
Rathgar stood staring at the empty space where Mikhail had stood only moments before, his eyes glowing bright crimson in the darkness. After some minutes had passed, he turned and walked down the darkened empty streets, headed for the Royal Palace. Not long after his departure, a hooded figure stepped out from the shadowy recesses of a door along the street and stood, watching him leave, before eventually slinking away into the night.
Snow had begun to fall by the time Rathgar reached the Royal Palace and he stood outside for a while, gazing up into the sky and letting the icy flakes skim gently on his face. He contemplated going to see Ivar but he knew that the King was rather preoccupied of late, with his Queen, so he made his way to his own chamber instead.
*****************************
"What do you think it is?", Seamus asked quietly, as he gazed out over the city.
"One who uses the Dark Magic of the Ancients", came the soft reply.
"They grow bolder, entering the citadel now"
"The day of Queen Serena's coronation draws near"
"Would they dare to come for her then?", Seamus looked surprised.
"When one becomes desperate for power, who can say what lengths they will go to?"
A companionable silence settled over the vampire and the fae, as they stood on the roof of the Northern High Council, oblivious to the snow falling, increasingly heavier, around them. Soon the darkness below became peppered with white as snow started to cover the rooves and streets, painting the landscape in shades of gray. The stars had all but disappeared, with the appearance of snow, while the pale winter moon offered only paltry beams of light that barely illuminated the city and its surrounding landscape. Below them the lights of the city twinkled happily, blissfully unaware of the sinister presence that lurked in their midst.
"What of the Lycans?", Seamus inquired, as though the thought had just occurred to him.
"Rathgar has handled the matter, and they will receive the message that they are meant to", Mikhail answered.
"Markus will not be pleased"
Mikhail clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively. He was a man of few words and detested wasting them on, that which he considered, trivial.
"Anyone using Dark Magic would not go undetected by either Rathgar or the King", Seamus spoke again after a while, returning to their earlier topic of conversation.
"I am certain that Rathgar also felt it"
"But he said nothing"
"Not everything needs words to be told"