“I do not know.”
“You are two learned men with your lives before you. I offer you that chance.”
I pointed out that we were on our way to Transylvania, but Rudolph seemed not to be listening. His mind was made up. He asked if our quarters were comfortable and I had to admit they were. Great fires under stone mantles and furs on the beds were things we had not seen since the start of our journey. It seemed to us after our travels a great ocean of warmth and rest, and the prospect of spending time here pursuing esoteric studies was an inviting one.
I was being pulled two ways, by my conscience on one side, and by a longing for security and ease. As a result my sleep was disturbed and a dream came to me again and again in the night. I was walking along a path at the base of a deep gorge. Trees that twisted and towered over me on either side almost obscured a night sky sprinkled with stars and a racing full moon riding the clouds. As I walked it seemed as if I heard, and had been hearing for some time a thundering behind me. I began to walk faster, and then to run, but my running, though more effortful, was no faster than my walk. Still the thundering, which seemed to be that of horses’ hooves, came closer but never caught up with me. I ran on, urging myself to greater and greater exertions, but moving still more slowly. Once I glanced behind and saw a great figure on a black horse almost at my heels, the rider stately and thin with yellow fire in his eyes, like a cat’s. As my terror grew I seemed to reach a clearing into which I hurled my slow, swimming body, my lungs almost bursting with the effort. There the moon shone with utter clarity and I saw upon some rocks a wayside cross. The image of Christ carved upon it had its face turned away from me. Below the cross stood Issachar the Jew, not as I had seen him, but far older with shreds of his white hair and beard wagging and fluttering in the breeze. He stared up at the crucified Christ with a look of intense hatred. Issachar said something — gibberish it seemed to me — but at these words the carved image of Christ began to move. It turned and tossed in agony, and I could faintly hear tiny, distinct sounds of anguish coming from it. So transfixed was I by this new horror that I forgot for a moment the horseman behind me, but suddenly he drummed into the clearing and halted before me, his horse snorting great jets of silver steam from its nostrils.
The rider would have advanced on me had he not seen the body on the cross which still writhed and whimpered. Against this the horseman shaded his yellow eyes in horror. So I stood in the midst of these three strange images not knowing where to turn, and in this state of indecision I woke.
As the reader will discover, the true significance of this vision was to reveal itself slowly and at the cost of great pain. But it is the way of life to burn understanding into us with a branding iron, as Epictetus has said. This is not bad luck; but to bear it nobly is good luck.
In the next few days I taught myself to believe that my stay in the Palace was to be merely a temporary one. Both Verney and I spent some time with the Emperor; Razendoringer alone was at liberty. He had become well acquainted with the other dwarfs in the Palace, some of whom were highly accomplished, one being a composer of note. It was to be Razendoringer who first warned us of the dangers, moral and physical, that lay in wait for us at the Palace.
On the third or fourth morning of our stay I was lying in bed and excusing my idleness by reflecting on the hardships that I had endured, when, without ceremony, Razendoringer bustled into the room. He wore a red cloak and carried with him another cloak of the same colour and two masks.
“Rise, learned doctor,” he said. “You have very soon to be in the Emperor’s presence.”
“Am I his guest or his servant?” I said petulantly, pulling the fur rug up to my chin.
“Hush! Do you not know that with the Emperor they are the same thing?” I looked at Razendoringer. His eyes, deep set in his puckered face, looked as old as Issachar’s.
“We must leave. I shall thank His Highness for the warmth of his hospitality.”
“I would advise against it. There are many ways into this Palace, but few ways out, as I myself have discovered. As you know, there is within this Palace a community of dwarfs whom the Emperor intermittently indulges. I have become a member of it and know that even among dwarfs there can be rivalries and hierarchies. The chief dwarf among them is one Martok who styles himself Count, though by what authority I have no idea. It so happened that the Emperor came to see us two days ago in the Dwarfs’ Hall, a low-ceilinged, panelled room wonderfully adapted to our needs. He took especial notice of me, being the dwarf who has travelled and seen most of the world. I could see that Martok began to look restive, and when he interjected a foolish remark on the subject of Pig Dancing in the North Western part of Greece called Thrace, I was unwise enough to correct him, for I have been there myself and witnessed the said dance.”
“Pigs dance in Thrace? I have not heard of it.”
“No, learned doctor. The natives of those parts attempt to dance upon a pig at the winter solstice. The success of the harvest is dependent upon the amount of time they can remain balanced upon the pig. May I continue?”
I nodded.
“I found myself to be the unwilling object of the Emperor’s favour and, more constantly, of Martok’s enmity since we dwarfs are expected to live together. This is a foolish thing as we are no more alike than one fair-haired man is to another.”
“Quite so. Quite so.”
“More pleasantly I became the object of the admiration of one who goes by the name of the Lady Dolabella. I don’t know whether you have deigned to notice her, learned doctor. Perfectly formed — for a dwarf you understand — with hair the colour of a flame...”
“Yes. Yes.”
“A most accomplished person. She has a sweet voice and accompanies herself upon the lute... But you are showing signs of impatience. In short, Martok found us enjoying a quiet conversation in one of the window seats of the long gallery and I sensed an even greater hostility. This was confirmed by the Lady Dolabella who informed me that Martok was jealous of any dwarf who enjoyed the favours of any other without his consent. And he was particularly attached to my Lady.
“That night as we supped the Lady Dolabella had been placed as far away from me at the table as she might. Yet I saw her cast many an anxious glance in my direction. A manservant came to pour the wine which was Rhenish. Martok rose and clambered aboard the table. Standing there knee deep in candles and Venetian crystal with his straggling straw-coloured beard sweeping the silver plate he looked like a goblin in an enchanted forest. He made a fine speech in my honour at the end of which he took a jewelled cup from his cloak saying that his master the Emperor bade him give me this and that I was to drink His Serene Highness’s health in it.
“The servant poured the wine and I raised the cup to my lips. Just then the Lady Dolabella struck up a tune which I had not heard before.
“‘Love bids us drink
And taste his golden dew
But ‘ware the poisoned cup
Of treacheries untrue...’
“The urgent sweetness of her singing coupled with the roughness of the verse told me that this was a warning. I raised the goblet and then thinking quickly requested that all should join with me in this toast. As the server went round filling the goblets I looked into the cup. A faint white miasma stirred in its amber depths. Evidently Martok had left a powder in the cup that he hoped would mix with the wine when poured. I smelt the wine and detected the slight odour of bitter almonds that I had come across before when travelling through Italy. When all the dwarfs rose and stood on their stools to drink the loyal toast (as is their custom in this place) I myself turned from Martok. I poured the draught away onto the straw at my feet and then raised the cup to my lips as I once again turned to face Martok.
“It was not hatred that I saw in his eyes; it was something that I liked even less, curiosity. He wanted to see how I would die. I turned my cup upside down to show that I had drunk and stared back at him. I guessed that it was to have been a quick actin
g poison for I saw the expression on his face shift rapidly from surprise to dismay, and then to taut, white-faced anger.
“‘But my friend has not drunk the toast,’ he said.
“I replied that I had and with seeming irrelevance told the story of Mithridates of Pontus who from his early years took small quantities of various poisons, gradually increasing their dose, so that his body would grow immune to their effect. I also remarked that a former master, Johann Faustus, had told me this and instructed me in the same prophylactic arts.
“The consternation that these remarks aroused in Martok were as gratifying to me as the admiration they evoked in the Lady Dolabella. So elated was I by this result that I continued my discourse by saying that Mithridates suffered at the last from the precautions of his youth, for, when he was finally defeated by the great Pompey, and his power was reduced to nothing, he wished to take his own life and then no poison could do the work. So he was forced to run upon his own sword, a bloody and painful business. Then I saw Count Martok’s knuckles whiten around his own little rapier and knew that I had overstepped the mark.
“After dinner I waited for Dolabella in a passageway. I was myself weaponless and therefore anxious to avoid the attentions of Martok.
“Presently my lady came to me, her bosom heaving with agitation. She said that I must set about leaving the Palace without delay. I said that I could not do this without yourself, Master Verney and her, but that I would spend this night outside the Palace walls for my own safety. She said that such a thing was impossible for there were guards at all entrances to the Palace to prevent unauthorised movement both in and out.
“She began to protest that she could not leave the Palace and that we must part to which I replied that I should never leave her. Suddenly our argument was interrupted by a hissing sound. I turned and there standing behind me was Martok, a drawn blade in his right hand. In the other he held aloft a great branched candlestick so that his face was a mass of knotted shadows. On one side moonlight flooded through the tall windows, on the other the soft golden diffusion of candlelight played on his face. He advanced towards me.
“‘Will you give me no quarter?’ I asked, since I had no weapon.
“‘You mocked me at supper tonight,’ was his only reply as he came nearer, his blade glittering with gold and silver light.
“I urged the Lady Dolabella to leave us at once, but she, being a sturdy young woman as well as brave, broke from my grip and threw herself in front of me at the feet of Martok. Her hair, like a river of red gold, flooded Martok’s boots. He looked down at her, his dark brows knitting with saturnine energy, as she begged him to spare my life. Then I saw a still greater fury seize him, for he now realised that she not only admired but greatly loved me with a tenderness that he could neither give nor receive. We hate most what we least understand.
“He tried to kick her out of his way.
“My momentary paralysis of fear and indecision was dissolved in anger. I flew upon him and such was the speed of my assault that he had no time to put his rapier up. We fell in a sprawling heap but I did not pursue my advantage as my concern was for the Lady Dolabella. Happily I saw that she had rolled safely to one side and propped herself against a great oak chest. Her wide blue eyes were for a moment clouded over with amazement. Hardly knowing what I was doing I disengaged from the struggle and went over to comfort her.
“Dolabella shouted a word of warning. I looked behind me and saw that Martok had risen. The candlestick was still in his hand but the impact of my assault had knocked the rapier several yards from him. Two candles remained alight, and as I rose to meet him he thrust these into my face.
“As I retreated I slipped on some hot tallow, dropped from the candle, and fell. He raised the candelabrum above his head and was about to bring it down on mine when he arched backwards with a sort of half-scream, half-gurgle. The steel point of his rapier was projecting through the front of his doublet and a dark stain was gathering round it on the velvet. As he fell I saw the Lady Dolabella standing behind him. With formidable presence of mind she had picked up his discarded weapon and driven it through his back.
“For a moment she stood, dazed by her own recklessness. But that brave lady did not hesitate long. Coolly she turned the body over on its side and drew out the sword.
“‘We must hide the body,’ she said. ‘Suspicion will fall on you if we do not.’
“‘Then what? He will soon be missed.’
“‘You must escape before then.’
“‘I will not leave without you.’
“‘Very well then,’ she said. ‘But we cannot escape tonight. Even if we get past the guards, there will be a hue and cry. Suspicion will fall immediately upon us.’ And I remembered, learned doctor, that it would fall also on you and Master Verney.”
I thanked Razendoringer for his thought and asked what was to be done. “We have hidden the Count in a linen press,” said Razendoringer, “but we must leave before he is smelt out. Now tonight there is to be a great masked ball at the Palace. Legions of guests will be passing in and out. We must put on masks and cloaks and join them. Then we may make good our escape undetected. Lady Dolabella will also be leaving with us, but we shall separate from you and Verney as soon as we are safely away. For we are resolved to make our own life together.”
“How?”
“I cannot say,” said the dwarf. “We must throw ourselves upon the mercy of this world, such as it is.”
I was greatly relieved to have these weighty decisions made for me and it was with a light heart that I dressed to attend the morning levee of the Emperor. Verney was there too and he made clear by gestures that he wished to speak with me alone. But we were separated by a great concourse of armed men who stood under the banners and oak beams of the Great Hall and barely made a sound. This Emperor was all-powerful, exciting not so much fear as a desperate eagerness to serve him. Most men, if they cannot have power themselves, will become its slaves somehow or other.
Presently trumpets blew and a pleasant symphony of viols and hautboys ushered in Rudolph. Swathed in a huge fur-collared gown, he looked unusually thin and coltish. Behind him came two servants with a number of dogs on leashes.
Rudolph was most cordial and greeted each of us in turn; but his special favour was directed towards Verney who did not seem over-pleased with it.
And then I found myself witnessing a most strange spectacle, but one in which Rudolph took inordinate pleasure: he announced that before he heard petitions a trial was to take place in which all those present were empanelled as jurors. Then one of the dogs, a powerful bull mastiff, was brought forth, snapping and fretting at his chain. Solemnly the dog was charged with having maliciously attacked a fellow canine and of having savaged a leg of mutton intended for his Serene Highness’s dining table. I thought at first it was a joke and would have laughed, but the rapt intentness of the Emperor’s expression told me that it was no laughing matter. I had heard of animals having been tried long years ago in some barbarous parts of my country, but never at the court of a great prince. It is a singular instance of how men have been foolish enough to allow life to imitate art unawares. I refer to the art of Aristophanes in whose “Wasps” occurs the trial of Labes the dog. It was a disappointment to me that this situation, so full of comic possibilities of an unintended kind, proved in actual fact to be so wearisome.
Cooks, guards and courtiers were exhaustively examined by the Emperor Rudolph whose appetite for minuteness and triviality exceeded that of the most worm-eaten scholar. The mastiff itself was placed on a kind of platform surrounded by metal spikes where it cowered and whined most pitifully. The only moment to relieve the tedium came when another dog was brought onto a witness stand to be examined for injuries. It spied and smelt Labes in his dock and the two animals, forgetting the dignity of the court, began furiously to bark at each other.
It was during this interchange — the most spirited of the whole trial — that Verney managed to move in my dire
ction so that we were able to exchange a few furtive words.
“We must leave as soon as we can,” he said.
I told him to find his way to my chamber before the masked ball that night. The rigmarole of the trial went on for nearly an hour longer. Finally the dog was found guilty and led away to be whipped. I had never felt so sorry for a dumb animal in my life.
An hour before the masked ball was due to begin Razendoringer and the Lady Dolabella came to my chamber to acquaint me with their plan of escape. I was fascinated to see at last the object of the dwarf’s affections, and indeed, she was a fine creature as these small people are accounted. The most striking thing about her was the red gold hair whose lustre and quantity Razendoringer had not exaggerated. Her face was round and pleasant enough, her features delicate but not very distinctive, like those of an intelligent baby. Her eyes were green, an intense colour. She sat in a chair, her legs sticking horizontally outwards, tiny feet encased in silver satin dancing slippers. In her presence Razendoringer was unnaturally reticent. It was she who outlined the plan of escape. Presently we were joined by Verney.
He was an angry and bewildered man, and he accused me of having ruined him in the eyes of the Emperor. I asked him what he meant. He demanded to know if I had told the Emperor that he could distil the Elixir of Life and knew how to make the Philosopher’s Stone? No, I replied, I had not. Then why did the Emperor say that I had? He is a man of power, I replied, he has the capacity to fulfil most of his desires; as for the rest, he may often wilfully imagine that he has been told they will be. Verney seemed satisfied with my explanation and said he had been summoned by the Emperor and informed that he was being given the means to uncover the secrets of the universe.
“If I were to accomplish this within the year,” he said, “I would be rewarded with great honours, but if not, torment and death. Then I was shown a great laboratory, glistering with athanors, retorts, phials full of strange liquids and crystals. All this would be at my disposal. But I was afraid, though I dared not show it, because it meant a kind of imprisonment and a man cannot pursue these great studies unless he is a free man.”
The Dracula Papers, Book I: The Scholar's Tale Page 7
