9

The Maestro wasted little time once he had finished shaking hands and thanking the attendees of the concert. He grabbed the nearest servant and marched back to the changing room, Bernhard following in his wake. With orders to send the new clothing back to his home in Vienna, he dressed into his travelling clothes once more, met his 'excellency' to collect a pouch filled with money and left the immense house.

Now, he and Bernhard waited outside, shadowed in a corner of the street opposite, and watched the guests as they left. Carriages rumbled and rattled before the house and people entered them, setting off back to their homes, discussing the magic of music amongst themselves. Beethoven awaited one guest, in particular.

"Did you know he would be here?" Crouching, hand upon his sabre, Bernhard could feel an excitement begin to rise within him. "The Vampire Lord? I could have killed him there and then, had I not left my sabre in the room."

"You wouldn't have come close to him." The Maestro twirled a silver baton between his fingers, eyes that rarely blinked fixed upon the house. "I didn't know, but it's his pattern, eh? This is how he found your Hilde. And my beloved."

Bernhard's head whipped around. Yet another thing that Beethoven knew but had not told him. He spoke true. Hilde had adored music, attending as many concerts and operas as she could. Music appeared to play a large part in this Vampire Lord's repertoire. Beethoven's beloved. Bernhard's. Now, here, at a concert miles from Vienna.

He couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him. He had not attended every concert with Hilde. More often than not, she went to them alone, better able to appreciate the music without Bernhard fidgeting beside her. Instead, he would visit his club, where old cavalry colleagues congregated to drink and smoke and reminisce about battle.

If he had only accompanied Hilde more often, he could have spared her the attentions of a creature that took her soul, turning her into something other than the woman Bernhard had wished dearly to marry. That creature now stood within the house opposite and Bernhard's thirst for revenge burned within him.

"He finds his victims at concerts. Well, he shall have the lives of no more women. I swear it!" His eyes narrowed and he watched the leaving guests with an intensity that matched the Maestro's. "We take him here. Turn him to dust before he can run."

"That may not prove so easy." The Maestro pointed across the street with the baton. "He's escorting his excellency's daughter somewhere."

Indeed, the Vampire Lord, tall and regal, his black cloak accentuated with a scarlet lining, supported a young woman into the awaiting carriage, servants following, carrying trunks that they attached to the rear of the carriage. Once she had seated herself, the Vampire Lord climbed aboard and the girl leaned out of the door to kiss his excellency's hands, before settling back, a broad, excited smile upon her face.

The carriage began to trundle away, the coachman flicking his wrists to tap the horses with the extended, leather reins. The Maestro moved at the same time, moving at pace to stay as close as possible to the carriage. The coachman did not rush the journey and Bernhard felt glad for that. He didn't doubt he could follow at a run if he must, but the steady pace would tire him less.

"Very well. We wait for a darker street. Jump the carriage and kill them both." Bernhard felt the same urge for action as he had felt while at war. That cold, yet hot anticipation of impending violence. "I would not wish her fate upon my worst enemy."

"She's not turned. He hasn't taken her innocence." A hand rose to the scarf about Beethoven's throat and he appeared to speak with greater knowledge. "Not yet. We follow, for now. But keep that sabre ready. The Vampire Lord is rarely unattended."

The Maestro glanced upwards, towards rooftops lit by etherial moonlight. Bernhard followed the glance, but could see nothing. No movement. No strange shadows. It appeared, for the moment, that the Vampire Lord's lesser followers were not escorting the creature. But, he could not relax. The foul demon still tainted this fair city with his presence and his blood-drinking minions were unlikely to stray far from their master.

After long moments and a number of streets had passed by, the Maestro managed to find a public carriage awaiting custom. At first the driver seemed disinclined to take their fare, but Beethoven pressed enough coins into the driver's hand to change his mind. Even though they had only walked, Bernhard felt glad of the rest.

Both carriages wound their way through the almost empty streets of Salzburg. The carriage ahead never leaving sight for more than a few seconds before they caught up once more. Bernhard did not know Salzburg well, but he could see the Alps before them, rearing up into the night sky, and he surmised that they travelled to leave the city.

"He takes her to his home? Does her father care so little for her?" Bernhard poked his head from the carriage window, watching the one in front turn onto the street leading out of the city. "To give one so young to the vile creature! It is unthinkable!"

"His excellency seeks a marriage for the girl and this Lord of Vampires presents a suitable match, in his eyes." The Maestro sat back upon the seat, eyes closed, two fingers tapping his lips. He swayed in time with the carriage's movements. "Attractive. Rich. From some old and well appointed family. I'm certain his excellency is preparing the dowry even now. Money attracts money. Power attracts power."

Once again, Bernhard felt struck by the differences between the Beethoven he had travelled with, compared to the one that had navigated the guests at the concert. At once boorish, vulgar and loud, then polite, gentlemanly and erudite. Now, the Maestro changed once more. Dour, stoical and morose. Introspected. Each personality a conflict with the others. Bernhard didn't know, from one minute to the next, who the Maestro would be.

"Then we must divest him of all his power and his life." Bernhard glanced out of the window once more, his hand gripping the hilt of his sabre. "To save this girl from eternal damnation and to purify the memories of Hilde and your beloved."

"Yes." The Maestro turned his head to the side, watching the landscape pass beyond the window. "My beloved."

Bernhard did not press Beethoven any further. He understood all too well the wrench upon the heart that came with losing the person they loved most in the entire world. Nothing could heal that wound. Nothing could douse the flames of hatred towards the one that had destroyed them. But Bernhard was a man of action, of bold moves and explosions of violence, bred into him by training and war.

The Maestro was a far more complicated man. A man of intelligence. Of creativity. Such men did not fly into conflict, they planned and strategised. They mulled upon consequences and feelings. The Maestro could run through dozens of scenarios before Bernhard could draw his sabre. That was the great difference between them. Between the physical and the mental. Strength of body and strength of will.

The city of Salzburg now became nothing but a shadow upon the landscape. A shadow broken only by the odd firefly of light. Little stars upon a blanket upon the ground, rather than above them in the sky. A thought fell upon Bernhard's mind as he continued to keep track of the Vampire Lord's carriage.

"Maestro? Why did we have to wait for the creature?" He sat back into the carriage, looking towards his companion, who appeared fast asleep. "Never mind. Sleep. I only wondered why we did not travel ahead and catch the foul beast at his lair?"

"Because, my old mate, I knew the general area of his castle, but not exactly, eh." The Maestro sat up, shaking his shoulders and passing a hand over his face. The morbid sense about him now gone. "We could have run around in those foothills for days, weeks and not find it. Now, we've got a path right to the bugger's door, eh?"

And, in an instant, the Beethoven that Bernhard had travelled from Vienna with returned. With a raised eyebrow, the Maestro looked up, through the window, and scowled. His hand tucked inside his coat, pulling out several hazel batons. He used one to wave towards Bernhard's sabre, his eyes never leaving the skies outside.

"What is it?" Bernhard began to loosen the sabre in its scabbard.

"Death from above." Beethoven's head snapped back inside and he braced himself against the seat.

Something hit the carriage, almost toppling it from its wheels. Then something else hit from the other side, rocking the carriage back the other way. A sickening sound came from outside, like the breaking of bones and the splashing of something that thudded against the roof of the carriage. Then a screech pierced the air as something else slammed against the carriage and Bernhard saw something even more horrific than an ordinary vampire.

A creature with black skin that appeared stretched over bone itself, without any intervening flesh or muscle. Black eyes that peered out of sunken sockets. Teeth, filthy and stained, like rows upon rows of knives that cut the creature's own lips as it snapped its mouth towards Bernhard. But, strangest of all, great wings sprouted from the creature. Bat-like wings that flapped and battered against the carriage.

In the confines of the cab, Bernhard could do little with his sabre. He needed space. Beethoven, however, did not. Liquid splashed across the creature's face, sending steam rising from where it had splashed. Holy Water. It released its hold upon the carriage, falling away with a screech, too fast for the Maestro to strike with his baton.

Bernhard couldn't allow himself to relax, however, for the creature was not alone. Others flew outside and the carriage had started to pick up pace.