"Not just numbers," Simon interrupted, the wolfish smile still on his face. "My followers will be harder than his. After all, what if all his flock is like Nicholas soft -minded and defenseless? I'm not going to transform ordinary souls. I want highwaymen, murderers, renegades, sorcerers like myself if we can find them mortals that already have larceny in their blood!"

"Mortals without conscience," John nodded. "I think your plan sound but for one thing, my lord. Do not transform another magus he might attempt to wrest control from you."

"Agreed," Simon said. "Hard mortals but not overly intelligent or ambitious ones mortals so thankful for what I give they'll never think to challenge me. But, John, how can you tell me not to transform another magus? Did I not promise you my new power in exchange for your aid?"

The astrologist sighed and gazed moodily into his silver chalice. "I would be most grateful but after watching your torment my lord, I am in my old age. I do not believe my frail body could withstand the process. With your permission, I wish to stay with you and offer what services I can but I believe your blood would kill me."

Simon nodded he'd had the same thought but he'd offered transformation anyway, feeling it was Dr. Dee's decision to make. He turned to his physician.

"Khalid?"

For the first time in twelve years, Simon saw a smile on the Moor's round, solemn face. "I am but a few years your senior, Lord Baldevar. I shall gladly partake of your blood who knows what medicine I'll be capable of in a few hundred years?"

"Wonderful," Simon said and lifted his chalice high. "To life eternal and vanquished foes!"

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Six months later

December 25, 1592

Simon awoke and felt an odd tension in the air. Another one of his kind was nearby, a being that emanated a great sense of power as well as an intense anger and heavy sorrow. The anger, Simon knew, was directed at him this must be Alcuin, arrived at last. What caused the creature's sadness Simon neither knew nor cared he had to prepare for the confrontation ahead.

Simon threw back the ermine coverlet and arose from the feather -stuffed mattress lying in the center of the large cave that had served as his sanctuary for the past few months. He dressed hastily, preparing himself for the battle he instinctively felt would settle the war that had been raging on his estate for over two months now. He buckled his great-grandfather's jewel-encrusted broadsword around his waist. Like most of his peers, he far preferred the sleek, elegant rapier to this heavy relic of another time. Unfortunately, that thin whippet of steel was nothing compared to the broadsword his enemies favored. Simon often wondered if they preferred the broadsword because they felt it a better tool for decapitation or perhaps they'd simply formed an attachment to the ungainly weapon during their mortal lifetimes. It had taken Simon a few nights to adjust to the weight of the broadsword but he was now capable of using it with the same light, swift touch he'd had with his rapier.

Simon stepped out of the cave and gave an uncontrollable shiver at the bleak silence that greeted him. At first when he'd arise the sounds from the village a few miles from his cave reached his ears. Now all the vampires he'd needed to create had bled the village dry. An eerie stillness hung over the area, making it seem haunted, desolate.

A good thing he'd kill Alcuin this evening, Simon thought and started his stealthy, silent walk back to the estate. He was worried about the things he'd transformed they had no restraint, they killed in such large numbers that Simon knew a Crown inquiry was only a matter of time. Already the residents of York barricaded their houses at night; many gathered in churches for extra protection.

Soon Elizabeth would have to send troops up here to see who or what was killing off so many of her people, and then what? What if her soldiers found some of the vampires during the day and watched in horror as their bodies burned when they were exposed to sunlight?

Simon knew he had to dispose of the rogue killers that wouldn't learn discretion, were incapable of learning much of anything. With few exceptions, they were as low and stupid in their new life as in their old. They were incapable of flying the astral plane, could master only the simplest tricks, like moving about small objects with the force of their minds and keeping their prey still while they fed. For the most part, Simon regretted their existence and was almost glad his enemies were killing a great many of them. The fifty he'd started with had been no more than ten at dawn. But his slain army had carried quite a few of Alcuin's acolytes to h.e.l.l with them so their purpose was served.

Still, all this death and slaughter had done something to the once beautiful area.

Simon remembered as a small boy he'd thought the howling wind of the winter months a daemon that meant to carry him off to h.e.l.l. That had merely been childish nonsense but now something dark and evil had definitely settled over the land. Not only couldn't he hear mortals anymore, it seemed the beasts had fled too no sheep, no horses, not even the owls made a sound this night. He was eager to achieve a victory and leave this chilling, cursed place.

Since he was only a quarter mile from the estate now, Simon stopped and glared up at the starless sky and quarter moon. "Metatron, Melekh, Beroth, Noth, obtestor te Deo viventi ut virtute verbarum harum me invisibilem faceres."

He kept walking, knowing his presence was now somewhat cloaked. Simon had discovered that although his incantation made him completely invisible to his own young apprentices it only offered him a few moments of protection before his enemies sensed him. Still, those precious moments had allowed him to sneak up on several of them and decapitate them swiftly.

Simon smiled briefly, thinking the incantation for invisibility would have required a waxen figure back when he was human to have any chance of success, that he'd have to be careful to perform the ritual during the right month, the right phase of the moon. Now his ability was so sharp he had only to say the words and receive what he wanted. Daemons he could summon easily; he did not even need the magick circle to protect him.

Simon sighed ruefully, remembering the only thing he needed protection from was vampires that wanted him dead. He had not yet arrived at a spell or weapon to satisfactorily rid himself of them. He strode the dark, unlit path with confidence, steadfastly refusing to acknowledge any trepidation at the evening ahead.

Along the path he discovered the decapitated corpses of two more of his progeny and one vampire he didn't recognize an enemy, then. Simon knew he could leave them where they were; the sunlight would incinerate any evidence of their existence.

A chilling scream shattered the thick silence and Simon jumped, his heart racing for a few moments before he gained control over himself and continued walking. He should be used to the sound by now it was the shriek of a vampire receiving a stake through its heart.

When his enemies arrived, Simon quickly learned that decapitation was a merciful fate compared to the h.e.l.l a vampire went through if any heavy weapon punctured its heart. The impaled vampire could only squirm around miserably, its wonderful strength and ability to deflect blows vanished. Once again, it could and did suffer pain the pain of the weapon lodged in its chest and the torture it was put through when the interrogators made a vain attempt to elicit information on the mysterious Lord Baldevar's whereabouts.

Of course, the torture that rivaled anything Simon had ever heard of in London Tower gained his enemies nothing. Simon told no one not even Khalid or Dr.

Dee where he slept during the day. Fighting his enemies on the family estate gave Simon a definite advantage; only someone born to the Yorkshire Dales would know how to search the complex network of limestone caves and sea caverns.

Then again, this Alcuin how sharp were his abilities? Simon paused, concentrating on the atmosphere around him. He realized he no longer felt hunted, focused on. The creature had other matters on its mind now that sadness overwhelmed it. Was Alcuin upset because so many of his followers were dead?

Perhaps, while he was distracted, Simon could take him by surprise.

Another piteous scream reached his ears and Simon thought under their simpering piety, his enemies enjoyed the power they gained from inflicting misery as much as he was learning to. In a way, feeding on emotion provided almost as much sustenance as drinking blood.

Of course these vampires would have no more opportunity to torture their helpless quarry. Whether he cared for his sp.a.w.n or no, Simon was their master and as such he owed them protection. It was his place and his alone to end their existence if he felt the action was warranted. But he knew from experience this was the perfect moment to attack and kill a few more of his foes; they were too involved in the torture to keep their senses peeled for the presence of another vampire.

Simon leaped through the air soundlessly, grasping the heavy limb of the tree above him. He slithered along on his stomach until he was poised directly above the clearing where three vampires stood cl.u.s.tered around a long wooden stake that imprisoned another vampire. The unfortunate's head was down, a sword hilt bulging from his chest.

"Look at this," Simon heard a deep voice rumble. "We've caught ourselves a Moor tonight heretic in mortal life and unholy abomination now. Where's your master, filth?"

Khalid, Simon thought, his heart thumping so loudly he thought his enemies would surely hear its furious beat they had Khalid! Simon forced himself to calm down; he'd do his friend no good if his ill temper led him to rash action. No matter that he simply wanted to leap to the stake and cut his friend down, he must proceed calmly.

While Simon planned his attack, Khalid gave his interrogator a disdainful reply, halting and labored though it was. "I call no one master and as for filth, it is not I who smell like I spent the day lying in a pile of horse dung."

"All you infidels are so proud of your bathing another sign of your vanity,"

the vampire sneered, but Simon thought the stung growl in his voice proved Khalid's jab had found its mark. "I rid the great land of Spain of your kind while I worked beside Torquemada and I shall be pleased to send you to h.e.l.l along with your brethren in the name of G.o.d."

This thing had been an Inquisitor? That explained the overzealous tone that was the mark of the true fanatic. Simon withdrew two small daggers from his belt and pulled himself into a crouch on the tree limb, poised for attack.

Before he could leap from his perch, the Inquisitor vampire raised his great sword and decapitated Khalid. Simon saw the smallest ghost of surprise enter his friend's eyes before the sharp blade sent his head to the ground.

Simon took advantage of his enemies' self-congratulations and jumped from the tree, bringing two of the vampires down to the ground with him. While they sprawled, unable to adjust to the unexpected attack, Simon planted his daggers in their backs, severing their hearts from behind.

With a roar of outrage, the other vampire hurled himself at Simon and they both rolled along the ground. All Simon's furious struggles were for naught he could not extract himself from the steely grip of his foe. Never had he encountered such brute physical strength no wonder this thing had overpowered Khalid.

When the vampire loosened his grip to grab his sword, Simon was able to shove him hard and crawl a scant inch away. He reached for his own sword but it was kicked from his hand with a blow that shattered his wrist. Simon yelped in pain while rolling to the side to evade the broadsword that almost took his head from his shoulders.

"Devil's sp.a.w.n," the hulking vampire hissed at Simon as he stood over him.

His hand already healed, Simon battered his head against his adversary's kneecap, feeling grim pleasure when a sharp crack shattered the silence around them and the giant fell to the ground beside Simon.

With the vampire p.r.o.ne and temporarily immobilized by pain, Simon was able to throw himself on top of it and attach himself to its neck like a leech. The outraged vampire tried to throw him off but Simon sank his blood teeth in as far as they would go and his hands gained such a firm purchase on his enemy's back that Simon could feel his short, sharp nails ripping through the vampire's muscles all the way to the bone beneath.

Bloodletting was his only chance for survival. Simon knew in a swordfight this immense, vastly experienced creature would tear him to shreds. Thank G.o.d, Simon thought as the potent vampire blood poured into him, he'd made the lifesaving discovery that a bled vampire had no more strength than a mortal. That trick he'd learned a few months before when one of his sp.a.w.n drained a girl Simon had claimed for his own. He'd meant to savor her beauty a few nights before drinking her blood. Outraged when he saw the husk she'd been reduced to, Simon grabbed the miserable thing that had killed her and tore its neck apart.

Immediately he'd seen that a starved or drained vampire lost a great deal of its power though it was restored once the creature fed again.

Now Simon felt the thrashing body beneath him start to weaken, and raised his mouth. He didn't want to kill this creature if his enemies could gain information through torture, so could he.

"You are not so far gone you cannot comprehend me," Simon said flatly.

"Answer my questions truthfully or before I end your worthless existence I shall sacrifice your soul to my dark G.o.ds."

The small, boarlike eyes opened and the vampire glared feebly.

Simon yanked him to his feet and kept a rough hand beneath his elbow so his enemy wouldn't collapse.

"Take me to Alcuin," Simon ordered.

"I am Alcuin," the vampire said, and Simon snorted in derision.

"Do you forget I am of the n.o.bility? I know well the difference between master and servant. You're but a lackey."

"I am no lackey," the thing thundered. "I serve at my master's right hand! It is I who plan our battles "

"So if I torture you, I'll gain valuable information," Simon said dryly and watched a dull flush show up on the vampire's coa.r.s.e-featured face. "Pickings must be scant among our number that my enemy relies on such a lackwit. Perhaps you thought my threat an idle one but I a.s.sure you I'll send your soul to h.e.l.l within a minute if you don't tell me where Alcuin is."

The thing glared in hostile, arrogant silence until Simon began to chant and the already frigid temperature plummeted further while a foul odor started to permeate the air.

A look of terror entered the vampire's eyes and he cried hastily, "In your wife's chambers, you fiend! The poor woman approaches death and my master is giving her the last rites."

Simon roared and gave his prisoner a scornful glance as he dragged him to the manor house. "Yon leader has closeted himself with Isabelle? What kind of sentimental fool is this creature that he pauses in the midst of battle to give benediction to some worthless mortal b.i.t.c.h? Walk faster, imbecile. I am most eager to face down your equally feebleminded master."

"He'll kill you," the vampire snarled and received a sharp rap to his head.

"Not while I hold you hostage," Simon returned calmly. "If Alcuin frets over some dying female he's never met before, he'll not take one step toward me while I hold a sword to your neck. How is it he's survived all this time with such a soft heart?"

"We've never encountered one like you before," the vampire said and quickly clamped his mouth into a grim line when he realized Simon had again gotten him to admit more than he should have.

So he unsettled Alcuin as much as the old bishop bothered him, Simon mused while he strode through the ajar front door and headed for the stairs. He wanted to use the astral plane but he hadn't yet figured out a way to hold another soul in his grasp throughout flight. His prisoner made no attempt to inform his master of their approach and Simon almost laughed at himself for this lapse into mortal thinking.

Alcuin would not need a shout or noise to know they drew near no doubt his senses were already at full alert.

Simon drew his sword and put the blade to his enemy's neck, dragging him toward Isabelle's chambers by the hair. As they came closer, the sonorous Latin chant of the last rites reached his sharp ears so Isabelle was finally dying. Simon felt nothing at her death, but the anguish in Alcuin's sobbing voice intrigued him.

Why did he feel such grief for a woman he didn't know?

Entering the bedchamber, Simon saw the room was bathed in thick darkness.

No candles flickered and the thick velvet draperies Isabelle favored were drawn tightly shut so no moonlight could illuminate the chamber. Even with his new, keen sight, Simon could only see a cloaked figure clutching Isabelle's bony white hand.

"Go now and join your son and husband," the cloaked figure whispered, and Simon clenched his jaw to keep from shivering. Even though Alcuin spoke gently, there was nothing weak about his voice or the aura of impenetrable strength that surrounded him. "Go and forget the pain that wretched, vicious fiend caused you."

"Do you feel any sorrow at what you've done to this gentlewoman?" Simon started at this direct indication that Alcuin was aware of his presence. Though the creature didn't take its eyes from Isabelle's corpse or raise his voice, Simon could not have felt more disconcerted if Alcuin had glared and shouted loudly enough to shatter gla.s.s. Usually he was the one that kept his opponents off balance with a countenance of self-possession and calm that was more terrifying than outright fury. It was most unsettling to meet someone whose air of intimidating nonchalance surpa.s.sed his own.

"What do you know of her character?" Simon sneered back, keeping his own voice calm. At all costs, he must not allow Alcuin to see that he'd never before felt so uneasy. Throughout this battle, he'd never been frightened but now Simon knew he was up against something almost as powerful as the spirits he summoned to do his bidding. "And why do you trespa.s.s on my estate?"

Your estate. Simon thought there might be the smallest touch of irony to the creature's tone. "Is this not the property of the father and brother you slaughtered to say nothing of the innocent child you destroyed?"

"judge not lest ye be judged," Simon returned.

"Never twist the Word of the Lord to suit your own needs in my presence, nephew." Now the vampire raised his eyes from Isabelle's form, and Simon gasped to see his own gold eyes reflecting back at him with fury and anguish.

Alcuin nodded. "Aye, you are my kinsman, seven generations removed.

Though it shames me to see such a venal creature as a descendant of my mortal bloodline, it is our common blood that makes it my responsibility to see that your unchecked evil shall not continue any longer."

"Why is it the men in my family always seek to destroy me, uncle?" Simon laughed harshly and then gestured to the struggling vampire beneath his sword.

"Step toward me and your worthless disciple dies."

From the folds of his woolen black monk's robes, Alcuin drew forth his own sword and advanced on Simon. "Unlike you, this good Christian has no reason to fear death. If I cannot protect him from your blade, he is a.s.sured a place in paradise."

Simon's lips curled and his blade cut into Guy's flesh, a scarlet pool of blood forming on the Toledo steel blade. "Good Christian? Do you expect me to believe you've spent hundreds of years upon this earth and still believe in some simple concept that is no more than a clever way to keep the peasants from revolt?"

"I believe there is something twisted and rotten inside you, nephew. I believe you've never been touched by concern for your fellow man or love. For that I truly pity you for you will never know the rewards of loving and being loved in return."

"I don't need your pity," Simon snarled, enraged by the way this thing looked down on him. "But answer me this before I slaughter you, priest. Why bother yourself with this battle? Had you simply kept to your corner of the world, I should have been content to remain in mine. I don't wish to wrest control from you; I simply want to be left alone."

Alcuin glanced at Guy and Simon felt a force, almost like one of the gales he'd encountered at sea, try to pull his hostage from his grip. Simon bit down on his lip and concentrated all his strength on holding on to his prisoner but it was no use he simply could not battle the unseen power that tore Guy out from under his sword.

Guy's body flew across the chamber and Alcuin swiftly closed the gap between himself and Simon, sword aimed at his head.

The priest had backed him into a corner almost before he knew what was happening. Desperately, Simon glanced at a ponderous dark wood cabinet and the thing flew at Alcuin, knocking his sword from his hand and pinning him to the ground under its heavy weight.

The cabinet flew off Alcuin's body before Simon could even take a step toward him and Simon felt that same mysterious force take hold of him, shoving him against the wall, keeping him there while Alcuin drew closer.

The vampire's hood had fallen off and Simon's eyes widened when he saw Alcuin's strangely shiny, translucent skin that allowed all his veins a hideous prominence and rotted blood teeth that hung well past his chin.

"Monster," Simon spat. "What happened in your transformation to give you such a revolting appearance?"

"My face disturbs you?" Alcuin said calmly, and Simon could see he was well used to being greeted with revulsion. "I may have been cursed with a gruesome visage but I far prefer my skin-deep deformity to your sickness, Simon Baldevar.

G.o.d may have blessed you with outer beauty but your soul the ugliness inside you would crack any looking gla.s.s. Your heart is empty you kill and cause pain with no remorse whatsoever. As a mortal, you were vile but what you've become since you transformed is an unholy abomination. Your wicked life must end now."

"Never!" Simon screamed out when Alcuin raised his sword. Swiftly, he yelled the darkest incantation he knew to stop the priest from killing him. "Obtestor te, simulacrum malum ac seditiosum, quod in profundo tenebrarum habitiat!"

The priest did not even look frightened when Simon was released from the unseen grip while a strange buzzing cloud came toward Alcuin. He simply stared into the dark mist and clutched the plain wood cross at his hip, the gentle whisper of his voice somehow cutting into the chaotic scream of the power Simon had summoned.

"I adjure you, ancient serpent, by the judge of the living and the dead, by Him who has the power to consign you back to h.e.l.l, to depart forthwith in fear from me, a servant of G.o.d.