New Jeanland

A couple of weeks had passed, and Christmas had only grown closer.  The dog had continued to follow Anatoliy during that time on his nocturnal excursions, but he had never again shown any signs of trying to warn him away from some sort of meal.  Then again, Anatoliy hadn’t been hunting in the same area as he had before; he had even ranged into the countryside to avoid any possible entanglements with the other vampire in the city.

There had been no other killings, and even Boris seemed to have moved his conversation on to other things the last three or four times that Anatoliy had visited the tavern.  This evening was no different.  Boris was sitting near the fire, holding court like a boyar.  Some of the other men were tossing dice or eating slowly to avoid having to go back out into the cold so soon.  Anatoliy’s hope for a lead or two on potential prey had dwindled down to nothing, so he headed out into the night.

He was met at the door almost immediately by the dog.  “No luck tonight,” he said, feeling a bit sorry for himself.  “We’ll have to scour the streets.”  The dog barked once, sniffing the ground in a perfunctory way.  Anatoliy almost smiled but started moving.

They walked the streets for an hour while Anatoliy discarded many targets as being too difficult.  People were still a little more observant after the funeral services had been held for the Count’s daughter.  There were a few people scurrying about like mice, but for the most part, people were at home resting in preparation for the next day.

The dog had been prancing along happily, but suddenly, his eyes narrowed, his tail stiffened, he bristled all over, and he started growling.  Anatoliy turned around to see the dog stock still, facing an alley like there was an army inside that he had to hold back on his own.  Anatoliy frowned and stepped back towards the animal.  “Come on, Dog,” he said.

The dog barked and took a step towards the alley instead, completely absorbed by whatever was inside it.  Anatoliy sighed and checked his sword to see that it was quickly available and stepped beside the dog, looking into the alley.

Inside, someone well-dressed was bending over what looked like a heap of rags.  Anatoliy noted the smell of blood in the air.  It seemed that he was now in the presence of the other vampire in the city.  He stepped back.  “Come, Dog.  This is not our fight,” he murmured.

The dog ignored him, taking two steps forward and obviously about to spring.  Anatoliy was about to bodily scoop the dog up and leave when the dog darted to the corner of the alley.  He frowned as the dog turned to face the stranger’s back and growled.  He was about to leave the dog to its quixotic quest when he realized that there was a set of terrified eyes behind the animal.

Anatoliy gritted his teeth.  It wasn’t his business, but this dog was making it so.  He yelled into the alley in Russian.  “Hey, you son of a pig!  Get out of here!”

The man turned and hissed at him, speaking in immaculate French.  “Call off your dog and mind your own business.”

Anatoliy released an unnecessary breath and stepped forward.  “This isn’t your city, foreigner,” he said as insultingly as possible in the same language.  “We do not need your sophisticated, devilish ways.”

“Little man with his tiny insults.  Go home to your wife and your church.  Pray that I do not follow you and destroy you as I have this insect.”

He tossed the pile of rags aside, and Anatoliy saw a woman’s bloodless face.  “That’s the best you can do?  Frighten women?  Come test yourself against me, you dressed-up piece of filth.”

The stranger turned with a sardonic smile and leaped at Anatoliy.  Anatoliy pulled his sword as the man flew through the air and twisted out of the way, falling into a guard position.  The dog trotted up to stand by Anatoliy, growling defiance. 

“You will attack me with your mongrel dog?”  The man laughed, cut short when Anatoliy swung his sword very close to the stranger’s neck.

“It’s not my dog,” Anatoliy retorted, the tip of his blade catching a seam of the man’s overcoat before he could dodge to the other wall.  The dog grabbed the corner of the stranger’s coat and pulled, throwing his weight down to the ground and pulling the opponent off balance.  Anatoliy slashed again and connected with the man’s wrist.

Angered, the stranger flew at Anatoliy, flinging the dog aside with a sweep of his coat. He shoved Anatoliy against the wall of the building, knocking dust loose and putting a crack in the structure.  Anatoliy saw stars but laughed mockingly.  “You expect that to work on me?”

“I expect you to die, little whelp.  You are a disgrace to us all, you protector of mortals.”

“The Tribunal will have something to say about all of this,” Anatoliy said warningly.

“And what pull do you have with them?  None.  What do they care about the deaths of mortals?”

“They care about people giving hunters a reason to pay them a visit,” Anatoliy said, slashing at the man when he got too close.

The sound of feet outside the alley caused the two to separate.  “I’ll destroy you for this,” the man said menacingly before running off. 

Anatoliy put his sword away quickly and ducked behind a rain barrel.  Someone in a guard uniform peeked inside, saw nothing, and walked on.  Anatoliy closed his eyes for a moment before looking around for the dog.  It seemed none the worse for wear and was cuddling up with a small being who was pressed against the wall. 

The vampire looked across the alley where the woman had been thrown.  Her neck was at an awkward angle, and there was no way of ascertaining whether she had died from blood loss or the careless treatment.  He walked over to the dog who turned a friendly glance towards him before going back to licking the child that he had apparently adopted.

Anatoliy hesitated, unsure as to how to talk to the child.  It had been years since he had lived with a being that small.  “Are you well?”  he asked.

The child looked up, either stunned or unable to speak.  It appeared to be a girl-child, matted curls falling to its shoulders and bundled in rags.  Anatoliy shook his head and thought briefly about walking away until the dog bumped his shin with its head.

“Dog, I cannot…”  Anatoliy sighed.  “You do know this is not something that I can take care of.”

The dog merely bumped him again, and Anatoliy scowled at it.  The little girl cowered in fear at the sight, and Anatoliy shook his head, kneeling down.  “Do you have a name?”

“Tanya,” she said softly.

“Can you walk, Tanya?”

“Yes.”

“Then you will come with me,” he said, using just a bit of will.  “You will not look at the other side of the alley.”

She stood up and started following him silently.  Anatoliy slowed his pace enough to make it look like they were somewhat together and took her to his daylight abode.  The dog frisked and gamboled on the way back.  He opened the door, let her in, and looked at the dog.  “Guard her.” 

He went out to find something to eat, working his way around the city carefully to avoid the stranger as well as any other unwanted observation.  He ran across a lazy coachman sleeping in the coach while waiting for his employer and drank his fill.  With his own hunger sated, he could think clearly.  “She needs food and clothing,” he murmured. 

Food was easy enough; one could charm a tavern wench into a bite or two of bread and cheese.  Water came from a well near the house.  As to clothing, he decided that, to start, he would have to put her in one of his old shirts.

He brought the food back and encouraged Tanya to eat. After she had taken a few bites, and the dog was dozing by the fire, Anatoliy shook his head.  “You need to bathe, child.”

She blanched, and he sighed inwardly.  “You smell of rotten potatoes and that will not do.  I’ve… drawn you a bath.  There is soap,” he noted, “and I will help you get the mats out of your hair after you are clean.”

Finally, when it seemed they would be at an impasse, he shut her into the bedroom where the soap and water was and hoped for the best, leaving a clean shirt in there for her to put on and whatever else he could cobble together for her.  She came out passably clean, though he did have to comb through her hair a multitude of times and clean behind her ears.  He found an old blanket and managed to put something that approximated a skirt over the shirt.

“You need rest now,” he said, willing her to climb into the bed.  The dog climbed in with her, and Anatoliy shook his head.  “Good night.” He left the room to the dog and the girl and stayed up by the fire for a long time thinking about what to do.