Chapter IV: The Triad

Battlemage
Copyright © Stephanie Pui-Mun Law 1999.
Used with permission.

Then, maybe one week later, Beth-Lynn, patrolling near Venetia's and Lucy's, saw the door open widely and the lights were on. She entered, followed by Sane, her stake in her hand, even if she knew the house was protected against strigoïs. Venetia was standing in the middle of the hall, a paper on the little table before her.
"Viny! I've good news for you: Angelan told me who you were looking for and I found him!"
"Nice, but he found Lucy before."
"What do you mean?" whispered Beth-Lynn, suddenly frozen.
"Read this and you'll understand," said Venetia, pointing out the paper on the table with a movement of the chin.
Beth-Lynn took it; it was a letter, written with an elegant, very fine handwriting and the deal was explained on it: Lucy against Herrikhan's glove.
"What will you do, Viny?" asked Beth-Lynn, feeling powerless.
"First of all, let's go to the headquarters."
"With Sane?" said Beth-Lynn incredulously.
"Why not? As long as you keep an eye on her..." shrugged Venetia.
"I'm not a little girl anymore!" protested Sane.
"Sure, girl, but I'll feel better this way. Come on, Beth-Lynn."
The headquarters were at Angelan's and the young strigoï looked worried when the three girls arrived. As soon as she saw him, Sane opened widely her eyes in wild disbelief.
"Sane, Angelan," said quickly Venetia, not caring a single instant for Sane's shock.
In spite of his worry, Angelan noticed she was still wearing her cloak and that her hands were hidden all the time. Beth-Lynn, with a tense smile, held him out the letter. He read it quickly and, in the depths of his eyes, one could see his despair.
"What will you do, Viny?" he asked simply. "And what do you want me to do?"
"Beth-Lynn, you told me you found the one I was looking for."
"Yes, Venetia, but I can't understand how he can still be alive! I saw you kill him!"
"He's not the same. They're three, a triad. Three bothers, all strigoïs. Damian, Vivian and Julian. The one I killed was Julian, the most vulnerable. And now, I have Vivian in front of me. But the worse is Damian. The oldest, the most clever. It will be hard to have him, but I'll do it. Then Duncan will be avenged and he'll able to rest in peace."
"He can already, Viny," said gently Angelan.
"No. I'll show you something before going to meet Vivian. Now, listen to me: Vivian is less clever than Damian, but he's not stupid. But he is greedy. And I think I know how to beat him. About the Triad, you shall know it's their fault if there are so many strigoïs in Gethsen. They are the masters here and almost every strigoï in Gethsen had his Sire among the Triad."
She saw Angelan nodding.
"Is it your case, Angelan?"
"No, but my Sire was contaminated by one of them."
"You never told me who was your Sire."
"That's a story for another time," he replied with a dead-pan face.
Venetia half-smiled.
"I think you know now almost everything you should know. Are you ready?"
"Can I come with you?" asked Sane.
Venetia looked surprised.
"Why, of course! I'm not crazy, Sane, I won't let a good fighter apart."
Sane's face illuminated and she smiled.
"Thank you, Venetia!"
"Let's go."
She went out, followed by the others. Beth-Lynn came beside her and told her where she had found the strigoï called Vivian. It wasn't very far from Angelan's, at the other side of the cemetery, half-hidden by trees. Venetia crossed the cemetery and stopped before Duncan's grave.
"Open it, Angelan," she said.
As soon as the strigoï's hands touched the tomb, a shape raised above the grave. It looked like Duncan...
"Viny darling! One week without seeing you! I thought you had forgotten me."
"I had other things to do," replied Venetia.
"Oh! I'm sure of that. Can't you really take away the stake from the heart of my corpse? It's quite painful, you know."
"I guess," she said.
From the darkness of her cloak, a bolt appeared suddenly and pierced the shape's heart. It disappeared at once and Angelan could open fully the tomb. Duncan lay there, a stake in his heart, drowning in holy water.
"I don't know what to do now."
"Burn him," Angelan advised her.
"It'd be useless," intervened Sane. "This dead body is under a spell. Even in ashes it would still be bewitched."
"And what do you suggested?"
"A counter spell. I know it exists, but I don't remember it now. I'll look later."
"Thanks, Sane."
They left Duncan's tomb and went to the place where Vivian lived.

The entry looked like the one of an ancient tomb; Venetia looked up and, on the pediment, she saw letters half-erased and could read 'Vivian Do'. What followed wasn't readable.
"So he lived his whole life - both human and strigoï - in Gethsen!" said Beth-Lynn, impressed.
"Not at all," intervened Angelan. "But the Triad is rather megalomaniac and they build tombs for themselves in each town they came. The 'Do' is not for their name, which nobody knows, it's for 'Domine'."
Venetia threw him a quick glance and smiled.
"There! I knew you knew something about the Triad! Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Why didn't you ask me?" retorted Angelan.
Venetia had a light laugh and Angelan wondered how she managed for it not to sound weary when she was so exhausted.
"Are we going, yes or no?" said Beth-Lynn, felling hurt by the complicity between Angelan and Venetia.
"After you, dear," mocked Venetia.
Beth-Lynn opened the door; the lights were on inside and there was a table of hard stone in the middle. Behind it, a man, looking exactly like the one Venetia already killed to avenge Duncan - Julian, if she was right - smiling nicely and, behind him, Lucy, trying her best to look unaffected.
"Dear Venetia! I was expecting you a bit earlier. And I thought you would have come alone."
"It wasn't written in the letter, Vivian."
"No, really? Well, I forgot to mention it. You understand it can't be fair this way."
"They won't intervene, they're just here as spectators. All this is between you and me."
"Do you have the glove?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright. So the deal is the following: your wrist against your sister," said Vivian while the others still exclaimed at Venetia's answer - and at the deal.
"Agreed. Which wrist do you choose?"
Then Vivian realised he was trapped.
"I meant the wrist with the glove!" he protested.
"But you didn't say it," retorted Venetia. "And now, I'm nice enough to give you another chance."
Vivian thought quickly: almost every strigoï still alive knew Venetia's right was like lightning and one of the advantages of Herrikhan's glove was that it gave more strength and speed to one's moves. Then Vivian was sure of Venetia's choice.
"I choose the right one," he said with a light smile.
"Viny, no!" exclaimed Lucy. "You're right-handed, you can't do that, even for me!"
But Venetia didn't listen to her sister.
"The right one, alright," she riposted, without taking her eyes off of Vivian.
She extended her right hand, until then hidden under her cloak and put it on the table. It was a hand with long, nimble and strong fingers, but wearing no glove. Instead, a large bracelet in diamonds circled her arm just above the elbow. Vivian's eyes glowed with greed when seeing the precious jewel, but Venetia said:
"We said the wrist, Vivian, not the whole arm, remember!"
"Do you think a single wrist like yours will satisfy me? Will pay for your sister?"
"That was the deal!"
"Of course, but you know better than deal with a strigoï! The bracelet and your wrist or I keep your sister."
Venetia remained silent a moment, then, softly:
"Agreed."
She let the armlet slip till her wrist, while Vivian was taking an axe. She was looking at him with no fear, but Lucy was crying openly behind him. Venetia smiled gently to her sister and bit violently her lower lip when the axe fell. Vivian took eagerly the bracelet in diamonds. Lucy moved toward her sister, who was staring at the drops of blood falling on the floor, but Vivian stopped her, his back turned to Venetia.
"Calm down, girl, we're not finished yet!"
"I agree," said lowly Venetia's voice.
A hand took the armlet from Vivian and, stunned, he turned on his heels to see Venetia slip it on her right arm which was intact! Before he could react, she grabbed him by the throat with her left hand covered with a black leather glove.
"You wanted Herrikhan's glove? Thus feel its powers destroying you!" she grinded.
Vivian tried to articulate something, but Venetia cut him with a stake in the heart. She let her stake fall on the ground, fell on her knees and grasped her right wrist with the other hand.
"It hurts," she said, answering the non-formulated question of her friends.
Angelan nodded comprehensively and turned toward Lucy who was staggering pitifully. Without listening to her protestations, he lifted her in his arms and tried not to think to Beth-Lynn's incredulous gaze.
"What happened exactly?" asked Sane, kneeling beside Venetia.
"This is Herrikhan's glove. When Vivian cut my wrist, the glove replaced it almost at once, but it's still fragile. I feel the pain as if my wrist was still cut and bleeding."
"It will heal, I'm sure."
"Oh yes! The strigoïs aren't rid of me!" smiled Venetia, getting on her feet. "How's Lucy? Is she alright?"
She looked around for her and her eyes went wide when she saw her in Angelan's arms, her head on his shoulder.
"Yes, I think she's alright," said Beth-Lynn quite sarcastically.
"I guess so," said Lucy hesitantly. "But you, Viny? How do you feel?"
"Like someone who just lost her wrist," grinned Venetia. "I'm sorry, Lucy. I thought that if I stayed away from you, you would be safe. The contrary happened."
"Does that mean you will come back home?" asked Lucy hopefully, circling Angelan's neck with her arms without thinking.
Venetia looked down.
"Yes," she sighed. "No more errands in the night, no more disappearances during the day. Promised."
"How's that, 'no more errands in the night'? You're a dhampyr, you can't quit like that!" exclaimed Sane impetuously.
"I agree," intervened Beth-Lynn. "We need you."
"Calm down, girls! I didn't mean I was stopping my dhampyr activities. I just said I won't stay out all night without telling you where I am."
"Oh, that would be a great improvement!" said Beth-Lynn ironically.
Venetia muttered something that nobody else but her could hear.
"What did you say?" inquired Beth-Lynn.
Her friend threw her a dark glance.
"Don't count too much on it though," she repeated with bad grace. "I might change my mind about it."
"Sure, girl, sure."
"And don't steal my expressions from me! Come, let's go outside, I can't breathe here," she concluded with a disgusted tone.
Beth-Lynn agreed and took the lead with Sane, probably because she couldn't see Angelan and Lucy this way. Venetia followed, alone as usual, and her sharp ears caught the conversation between her sister and the strigoï behind her.
"Listen, Angelan, let me go! I don't need to be carried!"
"You're shocked, Lucy."
"It's Venetia who needs your help, not me!"
"I doubt she would even let me touch her. It would be a dark glance and a 'Take off your hands of me, now.' What's more, she has Herrikhan's glove and I'm pitiful compared to that. And finally, I already carried you before and you didn't protest."
"But a glove doesn't talk nor console you," reasoned Lucy, doing as if she hadn't heard the last sentence.
"True, but you know Venetia: she would rather die than acknowledge she needs some tenderness."
"The one she loved was killed because of her and is now under an evil spell. How do you want her to show her feelings now?"
"I hope Sane will find the counter spell," sighed Angelan.

For this time only, they changed their headquarters: they chose the sisters' house. Angelan installed Lucy in a comfortable armchair while Venetia buried herself in another one.
"Take a seat," she said with a vague movement of the hand.
Angelan attacked the first:
"Viny, I don't like the fact you have Herrikhan's glove! What will you do with it?"
Venetia had a quick glance for the black leather glove covering her left hand.
"I will learn to use it. I don't now very much about it: during the last week or so, I did some researches about it and what I found was just enough to allow me to deal with Vivian tonight."
"Don't you ever do that again!" shouted suddenly Lucy. "It was horrible to see him cut your wrist!"
"I agree with Lucy," intervened Sane with a toneless voice. "I had to restrain myself for not sending him my stake in the heart, but you gave your word we wouldn't do anything."
As Lucy looked at her with surprise, Sane added:
"My name is Sane. I'm a dhampyr."
"I thought we dhampyrs hadn't the right to say who we are," said Venetia mischievously.
"Lucy is a dhampyr too and Beth-Lynn already knows it," shrugged Sane.
She exchanged a quick glance with Venetia and they both burst out laughing.
"I'm so stern with that?" asked Sane between two laughs.
"Worse!" replied Venetia with the same tone.

The following morning, Meran, Duncan's young brother, came to see Venetia. He liked the girl very much, but he didn't know what she was doing during the night: Duncan had been very careful to let him ignore it. He found her in an armchair, the legs thrown across the armrest, reading a big ancient book.
"Hello, Viny!" said the young boy, running to her and throwing his arms around her neck.
"Hello, little one," she answered, holding him against her.
He lay trustingly his head on her shoulder while she put her book behind her.
"I miss Duncan," he said softly, nuzzling his brow against her neck.
"I miss him too."
"I don't know why, I'm afraid to go praying over his grave... It's stupid, isn't it?"
"Not so, little one, but soon, there will be no reason anymore."
"Can I stay here with you and Lucy? Please, Viny?" pleaded suddenly the young boy.
"Of course you can, Meran. Lucy and I will be very pleased to have you with us."
"I go to tell it to the priests and I come back!" cried Meran, already running to the door.
Venetia's smile faded slowly, but Meran was already outside and didn't see it.
"I'm afraid they will refuse you that, Meran..." she said softly.
As Venetia was wearing gloves night and day for now more than one week, in full summer, some people said she was a murderer and some families, who hadn't forgiven her the murder of the strigoï in who their precious kid had transformed, did everything in their power to throw discredit on Venetia - keeping for themselves the real identity of Venetia's victims. The priests of Chyraz knew it for quite a long time, since those new rumours were only an echo of the ones when she had arrived in Gethsen, and they had tried to convince Duncan to leave Venetia. But the young priest had been a stubborn one and now, he was dead. When hearing Meran's request, they saw a chance to revenge of Venetia's 'victory' on them and they forbade Meran to see Venetia ever again. The young boy wept bitterly but the priests didn't change their mind.
Venetia knew her house was watched out day and night by strigoïs and humans bribed by the Triad and she was sure that Meran was now in danger. The Triad - now reduced to Damian - knew Venetia was invulnerable for the moment: the targets were those she held dear. Chryraz's temple was a beautiful temple, but not thought out to resist against strigoïs. Normally, even if it was somehow a public place, as a holy place, the temple should have been forbidden to strigoïs, but Venetia quickly noticed it wasn't protected at all. The strigoïs could enter it whenever they wished to.
Venetia thus got used to patrol around the temple during the night, half-trusting the priests during the day. Of course during the night, a priest remained awake, but he was an old priest who had insomnia and preferred to read rather than to stay in his bed, looking up at the ceiling; the problem was that he was totally unable to fight a strigoï. Sometimes in the night, he stood up and checked that everything was right in the temple and in the nearness. Venetia did nothing to hide and, more than once, the priest saw her fighting a strigoï. As a priest of Chyraz, he know who she fought, for one of Chyraz's gifts to his priests was the dhampyr Sight, which allowed them to do the difference between a human and a strigoï. He knew thus that Venetia's bad reputation was entirely a lie.

Nothing happened during the four first nights, but Venetia didn't renounce. She knew her intuition was the good one. And the fifth night proved she was right... She was patrolling when she sensed a new presence; she was immediately on her guard but it was already too late. She turned on her heels only to see the fist raised above her head. She uttered a small cry of powerlessness before falling on the ground, unconscious.
When she opened the eyes, she felt at once that too much time had passed. She stood up quickly and rushed into the temple. She stopped dead; the old priest looked up sadly at her and whispered softly:
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
"No! Not him, not Meran!" begged Venetia, falling on her knees.
She held up her arms toward him as if she was blind and the old priest gave her Meran's body he was cradling in his arms.
"I'm sorry, Meran," she said to the young boy who couldn't hear her anymore.
"Venetia, you know... I mean, I think he had been contaminated."
"I know what to do," replied Venetia, standing up and lifting Meran's body in her arms. "I guess they will all say that Venetia the Killer struck again."
"I will say the truth, I will say you fought to save him... and all the others."
"The others were really my victims, old father. I'm really a Killer. A strigoï killer. You can't save me from my bad reputation. I'm not like them and for that, they will hate me as long as human's memory can last."
"No!" protested the priest. "We can change human's mind. Chyraz conceived us so we can change and evolve. We must keep our faith in Him!"
"Sorry, old father, I lost my faith in Chyraz the very night Duncan died."
"We all die someday, child," said softly the priest.
"But why him? Why not me? Duncan was needed by Chyraz's believers, he had more faith in Him that I would ever have!"
"Chyraz needs you."
"Chyraz perhaps needs me, but I needed Duncan! He was the only one to care for me. Of course my sister cares for me, but not that way. I needed Duncan's tenderness, his attentions for me when I was tired, his laugh, always tender and gentle, even when he was teasing me. Was it too much for Chyraz to let him live?"
"I think you don't understand, child..."
"It's you who don't understand! I don't hunt strigoïs for Chyraz's glory, nor for life's sake. I hunt strigoïs so that my friends and those I love are safe. I killed strigoïs to protect my sister, I killed others to protect Meran, but it wasn't enough. It's never enough. I must always kill more. So couldn't I have a bit of tenderness to help me to forget sometimes the world of violence in which I live? Ask your Chyraz about that and if he has a clever answer to that question, I would be more than pleased to hear it. Goodnight, old father."
"Chyraz bless you," said the priest mechanically, knowing instantly it was not the right thing to say.
"Sure. That's what you said to Meran at bedtime? Well, seems to me that Chyraz forgot him. Too bad, huh?"
She left in the night, holding tight against her Meran's dead body
"He was too good for this world, Venetia. Chyraz didn't forget him, He just called him to lead him to a better world..."
But the priest himself didn't sound convinced by his own words.

Angelan was alone, waiting for Lucy's nightly visit or for Beth-Lynn's when Venetia entered with Meran's body.
"What..." began Angelan.
The words died on his lips. He only had to take one look at her to see the deep sorrow in her eye. He recognised Meran immediately, even if he had never seen him, for Meran looked like his brother.
"What can I do for you, Viny?"
"Open the gate of the ancient crypt. I'll keep watch over him here."
"Do you need my help?"
"No. I don't need any help at all."
He knew why she said that: she wanted to be dependant on no one but herself, because she believed she could endure better the pain when away from her friends.
"Viny, I'm not as vulnerable as them... you can rely on me."
"You're more vulnerable than them, Angelan!" she shouted. "What will you do with a stake in the heart? What will I do when someone gives you the eternal rest? And this time, I won't have only my own pain to endure, but Lucy's and Beth-Lynn's too! And I will have to be strong so that they can rely on me. No, Angelan, believe me, it's better this way. I'm like an old lonesome wolf. And sometimes, I bite," she concluded with a smile.
"Of course I don't bite!" said Angelan, irritated.
"You need blood?" asked Venetia.
"No, Viny, no," sighed Angelan. "Keep it. You will need it later."
"That's reassuring," muttered Venetia.
"Please, be nice," replied Angelan.
"Yes, daddy," retorted Venetia resigned.
Angelan raised the eyes to the sky as to take it as witness.
"The key, Angelan, I need the key," said Venetia.
"There's no key, Viny. Nobody wants to see old bones in the depths of a sinister crypt. Except you."
"Sure. I love old bones, old things, old strigoïs..."
"I'm not that old!" protested Angelan, frowning at her.
"Oh no?"
"No," said definitively Angelan.
"Too bad," grinned Venetia, going downstairs when Angelan opened the gate before her. "I won't be able to say that you're a really old friend."
She lay Meran's body on a tomb and turned to Angelan.
"Thanks, Angelan. I want to stay alone now, please."
"As you wish. You know where to find me. If Lucy asks me where you are, what shall I tell her?"
"That you promised me not to tell it before the end of the week."
"I didn't promise you anything."
"We can work on it," smirked Venetia. "Go on, Angelan. Lucy or Beth-Lynn must be waiting for you and it's very impolite to keep ladies waiting."
"See you later, Viny."
"Sure, laddie, sure."
And Angelan left Venetia kneeling near the tomb, her hand covered with Herrikhan's leather glove stroking gently Meran's brow and his hair.

Text © Azrael 2000 - 2001.
Battlemage. Copyright © Stephanie Pui-Mun Law 1999. Used with permission.
Set Gothiquesque, from Moyra/Mystic PC 1998.