by Sean Stone
3
Everybody stood up when Richie walked into the throne room. There weren’t many people there. He’d insisted on it being a private trial. Despite what Isabella had done she was still an elder and would not be tried before the entire clan. He didn’t want to risk any of her supporters getting in either. Only the other elders and some of Richie’s guards were present. All the doors were guarded by four vampires in case Isabella tried to escape. Four more would be escorting her in, which totalled to twelve guards. There were three elders at the table which had been positioned at the bottom of the dais. Charles Hammond and Victor Redmane were there as well as Richie’s newly appointed elder, Jacob Martel. With Victor siding against Richie, Richie needed an elder besides Charles who was on his side. He had always been able to trust Jacob and he was the most suitable candidate. It was ironic in a way, Victor had been on at Richie for weeks to get a new elder.
For once Victor was doing a poor job of hiding his emotions. His face was wrought with worry and as Richie met his gaze he saw his old friend pleading him to show mercy on Isabella. Richie quickly looked away. He had kept Victor away from him because he did not want to be talked around. He did not want to show mercy. He wanted revenge. Pure and simple.
Richie ascended the dais and sat down on his newly carved wooden throne. Another thing that Victor had protested. He didn’t like Richie having a throne, he believed he should sit at the table with the others as though they were equals. But equals they were not. Richie nodded to one of the guards and he left to retrieve Isabella.
“Richie,” Victor said quietly.
“Silence,” Richie said without turning his head. He would not be petitioned. He already felt a snag of guilt for the effects this trial would have on Victor, he could not risk being swayed.
“Richie this is absolute lunacy,” Victor continued.
“If you cannot be silent then you will be expelled,” Richie said sternly. Victor turned to face the front and waited in silence. It didn’t make Richie feel good to treat his friend in such a way but he had come too far to be talked down now.
The doors at the far end opened and the guard returned with four more. Isabella was walking in the centre of them all, her wrists bound in a heavy chain. She had been injected with blood of the dead to keep her from fighting. Other than that nothing had been done to her. Richie had wanted to storm into her dungeon cell and murder her in the same way she had murdered Lydia. Only his love for Victor had stayed his hand. Any love he had felt for Isabella was long gone. It had died with Lydia.
Victor probably didn’t realise that he was the only reason Isabella was still alive. He was the only reason for this trial. Trials were Victor’s thing. Richie preferred to make decisions without them. Victor had been granted his trial but he could not be a allowed to defend his daughter. Richie knew that somehow he would find a way to get her off and there was no getting away with what she’d done. She was going to be executed, it was only a matter of when.
The guards brought Isabella twenty feet from the dais and stopped her there. Richie checked their faces to ensure that Victor had not somehow replaced the chosen guards with his own. He had not. They moved far enough away that Richie could see them only his periphery. The blood of the dead should stop her from escaping but he wasn’t going to take the chance. She’d already got away once. Next time she’d be smarter and wouldn’t get caught.
She looked up at Richie, her eyes were faded and docile but he saw the sorrow in them. It did not move him. She was only sorry that he was angry with her, not for what she had done.
“Isabella Redmane. You are accused of murdering Lydia Aramaya. How do you plea?” he said monotonously. He was trying his best to sound official for Victor’s benefit. The trial should seem as farcical as it was.
“Not guilty,” Isabella replied. Richie hissed quietly.
“I saw you standing over her,” he snapped.
“I did kill her but it was not murder,” she said defiantly.
“Oh, I see. Legal definitions. What was it then, if not murder?” he asked. Technical jargon was not going to get her off. She’d better think of a sounder defence.
“Manslaughter,” she said.
“Manslaughter? Victor, you are the law man here. Tell the court the definition of manslaughter,” said Richie.
“Voluntary or involuntary?” Victor asked. Richie raised his eyebrows at Isabella.
“Voluntary,” she said.
“Voluntary manslaughter occurs when the defendant kills with an intention to cause harm but where a partial defence applies,” Victor said as if reading it from a book. He was trying to keep his tone emotionless but failing.
“What partial defence does apply?” Richie asked Isabella.
“Loss of control,” she said. It seemed that she had taken the time to put a defence together. Not that it mattered. No defence would get her out of this. Not one she prepared anyway. She was her father’s daughter but she was not as good a law man as he was.
“Explain to me how the events unfolded,” said Richie even through his anger there was a slight tremble to his voice. The last thing he wanted was to hear her describe his lover’s murder, but he needed to hear her story so he could smash her defence to pieces and get on with executing her.
“I went to your chambers to see you. When I arrived I found her naked on the floor. I could smell what you’d been doing. I got angry and…” she tailed off.
“And what?” he asked quietly.
“I lost control and killed her.” Isabella looked down at the floor. At least she had some shame for her actions.
“So it was on impulse?” Richie asked.
“Yes.”
“You completely lost your mind?”
“Yes.”
“Your anger took control of you and killed Lydia in a moment of mindless passion?”
“Yes.”
“And you had no intention of killing her until that moment?”
“Yes.”
Richie smiled. He had her cornered now. “Then why did you bring a fucking stake with you?” Richie saw Victor put his head in his hands.
“I always carry a stake in my boot. I’ve been kidnapped so much in the past few months I decided to start taking protective measures,” Isabella replied, unperturbed.
“Really? My men did not report confiscating one when they arrested you,” Richie replied. This was easier than he’d thought it would be. Her defence was laughable.
“That’s because they didn’t. It’s still in my boot,” she replied. There were murmurings from the table and a glare from Richie silenced Charles and Jacob.
“Check her,” Richie instructed one of the guards. The guard moved tentatively towards her and knelt on the ground. She did not move at all as he searched her footwear and a moment later the guard pulled out a long stake from her right boot. “Incompetent morons,” he snarled. The guard scurried back to his post. “Alright, so, you went to my chambers and lost your temper and accidentally killed Lydia. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she fight back?” Richie asked.
“What do you mean?” Isabella asked.
“Lydia was one of the first vampires ever created. She was at least five-thousand-years older than you. Possibly as much as ten thousand. She was both faster and stronger than you. How were you able to best her?” That question had been on Richie’s mind a lot over the last week and he was glad he was finally going to get an answer.
“She didn’t have a chance to defend herself. She didn’t see my attack coming,” Isabella replied with a shrug. Richie could not believe she just shrugged as if this whole thing were nothing. He had to restrain himself from storming down there and ripping her heart through her rib cage. Victor did not deserve to see his daughter savagely killed.
“So you attacked her before she even knew you meant her harm?”
“Yes.”
“She would have heard you coming. Her hearing was far superior
to any of ours.”
“I crept in. I wanted to surprise you,” Isabella looked away again. Richie thought he could see a tear in her eye but he wasn’t certain. Even if she was crying it wasn’t out of remorse, it was because she knew that she would never have his love now.
“So she never even knew you were there?” he whispered. The more he heard the more he hurt. Hearing every detail of Lydia’s death was horrific. How could Isabella pretend this was not planned.
“Not until I attacked.”
“So, to clarify. You sneaked into my chambers. Upon seeing Lydia laying on the floor, naked, defenceless and completely unaware that you were even in the room, you attacked her and she did not notice your presence until she was already dying?” Richie spoke softly, in awe of what he’d been told.
“That’s right,” Isabella said and Richie was certain that he had her.
“And you did all of that in a blur of rage?”
Isabella made no reply. She looked over at Victor for help.
“Richie. Let me ask some questions,” Victor said.
“No. There will be no more questions,” Richie said.
“I love you,” Isabella said. “That’s why I lost control. Because I love you. I have always loved you and you have always rejected me!” she shouted. Her voice sounded like a petulant school girl’s. She was definitely crying now.
“I let you down with respect. I treated you kindly,” Richie replied. “And this is how you react?”
“Kindly? With respect? You called me a common strumpet?” she shouted back.
“Enough! There is enough evidence here to sentence you.”
“Richie wait,” Victor said. “This is not a trial. You cannot sentence her to death based on that.”
“I do not mean to. All of the elders are here. We will vote.”
Victor stared up at Richie. Lost for words. He couldn’t argue with a vote but it was clear that the odds were stacked against him. Charles had never liked Victor and Jacob was Richie’s man. “Richie, please.”
“We will now vote on whether Isabella Redmane is guilty of murdering Lydia Aramaya.” Richie said monotonously. “Jacob?”
“Guilty.”
“Victor?”
“Not guilty,” Victor growled through his teeth.
“Charles?”
The buffoon dithered about, weighing up his options. Assessing whether he wanted to fall in with Richie or Victor. Victor stared him right in the eyes, pleading with him to save Isabella. “Guilty,” he said at last and pulled his lips into a slight smile.
“I too find the defendant guilty,” said Richie.
“I love you,” Isabella said.
“Isabella Redmane—”
“Richie, do not do this,” Victor said, standing up.
“You have been found guilty by the elders of this clan—”
“I am asking you as your friend to show mercy. She didn’t know what she was doing,” Victor continued. Richie ignored him.
“—Of murder.”
“Richie if our friendship means anything to you listen to me. Do not make me act against you.”
Richie paused to consider Victor’s words. What could he do? Nothing. The clan belonged to Richie not Victor. “I hereby sentence you death.”
“I didn’t want to do this,” Victor said.
“Do what?” Richie asked. He didn’t want Victor to enact whatever silly plan he had in mind. He didn’t want to lose another friend. At the same time he did not care for the implied threat.
Victor put his hands on the tops of Charles’ and Jacob’s heads and twisted before they could react. Their necks snapped and they both fell down, temporarily dead. Victor jumped over the table and went to his daughter. Richie mocked with lazy surprise.
“Don’t make a fool of yourself Victor. You can’t get out of here alive,” Richie said. He stood up and nodded at the guards. They began moving slowly forwards. Wary of a fight.
“You seem to forget about your time in captivity,” Victor said. “You were gone for thirty years. For thirty years, I ruled this clan. And there are those here who are loyal to me. Remember that when you’re dealing with the fallout from this night. When the clan is split between us, remember that I gave you the choice not to do this. But you chose to act out of spite. You chose to disregard our friendship of three hundred years for the sake of revenge.”
“Nobody will side with you, Victor. This is my clan and they all know it,” Richie said confidently. Victor was treading a thin line now. He could forgive a certain amount under the circumstances but if he continued to threaten him then it would end badly for both Redmanes. “I have made sure to fill this room with only those completely loyal to me.”
“They were loyal to you. But I pointed out how unstable you are right now. How likely you are to get them killed.”
The guards reached the Redmanes but rather than apprehending them they instead stood in front of them, forming a wall between Richie and them.
“You traitors,” Richie hissed venomously. “And you the biggest traitor of them all,” he added to Victor.
“She’s my daughter. What did you expect me to do?”
“Do you really think this lot can stop me?” Richie asked as he descended the dais. He detested spilling the blood of his own people but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it. They had earned death anyway.
“Only one way to find out,” Victor said.
“Indeed.” Richie flew at the guards. It didn’t take him long to rip them all apart but by the time the last body dropped Victor and Isabella were long gone.
Richie went after them but after an hour of failing to track them he gave up and returned to the manor.
“I want this town turned inside out!” he barked at Jacob as he reached the bottom of the stairs and made his way down the corridor.
“I’ll get people on it now. We don’t have many left, though,” Jacob said.
“What do you mean?” Richie said. Vampire’s rushed to get out of his way as he stormed through the halls.
“Roughly half the clan has already gone with Victor. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s been preparing this for a while.”
Richie stopped. “Half the clan?” He turned to face Jacob. Jacob didn’t flinch or back up, he held his ground. Richie admired that. Charles would have shied away as soon as Richie had looked at him.
“Yes. He must have spent the week meeting with them. Convincing them to join him.”
“No. He did all this tonight. When he found out I had Isabella. All those people were loyal to Victor and his daughter whilst I was gone and they stayed loyal even when I returned. I should have seen this coming.” Richie sighed and turned away. He’d underestimated Victor. He would not make the same mistake again.
“Do you want them all hunted?” Jacob asked, ready to give the order.
Richie did want them all hunted. Hunted and killed. But that would do no good. “No. A civil war between two halves of the clan would destroy the town. MI5 would come and start exterminating everyone.” Richie surprised himself with his diplomacy. Usually he would have gone straight for the bloody option. Truthfully, it wasn’t about the town or MI5. He was confident that he could handle MI5 if they attacked. He didn’t want to declare war on Victor. He was still his friend and Richie wanted to reconcile with him but if they declared all-out war on each other then that would never happen. “Put the word out. Anyone who returns to us will be pardoned. Even Victor. The offer expires in three days.”
“Will Isabella be pardoned?” Jacob asked, unsure.
“No,” Richie said. He wanted to make up with Victor but that was out of the question. “Her sentence has been passed. She will die.”
4
Henry had had enough of the coven. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of them but he had to be more careful now. He’d already been forced out of one body; he couldn’t risk losing another. When the coven had forced him from Adam’s body he’d felt the house trying to pull him back to it. That wr
etched house that had been his prison for a hundred years. If he hadn’t gotten into Elizabeth in time then he’d be trapped behind those walls again right now. He’d been given a second opportunity. He was unlikely to get a third. This time he had to be careful. None of the recklessness of last time. That meant not acting out of character. Elizabeth was timid and unsociable; it wasn’t too hard to replicate that.
He’d covered up Genevieve’s murder. He’d used a splash of magic to conceal the stab wound and made it look like she’d died of power exhaustion. It’s rare, but if a sorcerer expended a great deal of magical energy there is a very small chance that they could die. Old Genevieve had used more than a fair amount of magical energy fighting Nickolas Blackwood. The coven had bought the story and that was that. The old woman had been laid to rest in the coven cemetery and that was the end of it.
Now there was a new problem for the coven. They needed a new dynast. That meant the whole coven had to meet up to argue about it. They seemed to like arguing. Henry had always had this idea that the coven was a perfect organisation in which everybody saw eye to eye. He couldn’t have been more wrong. To think that there was a time back in his living days, when he had wanted to be accepted by the coven as one of their own. What a fool he’d been.
With Adam in a coma and Toni not trusted with a set of keys, they were no longer able to use the museum, so they’d hired a function room at a pub to conduct their meeting. It wasn’t as spacious but it would do. They’d conjured a barrier so the punters next door would be unable to hear what went they discussed. In Henry’s experience coven meetings tended to get a little rowdy.
“Elizabeth is next in line after Genevieve,” Brent said. He had been loyal to Genevieve and now he was being loyal to her daughter. Sadly, Henry did not want to be dynast. He was only playing along for now so as not to cause suspicion. First chance he got he was out.
“No offence, Elizabeth,” Toni said. “But you’re not cut out for the role.”
