The Tiger in Winter

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  “A little over three years,” Glia replied.

  That was an unbelievable length of time.

  “It isn’t exactly someplace where they could never find you. So, have you gone without feeding on the blood of your neighbors?”

  The young man in the bed—Cotil—nodded. Glia followed suit.

  “I would compliment you on your incredible endurance, but you have served in their place, have you not?” the duke said, looking at Glia.

  The girl must’ve known this would come out at some point. She nodded.

  “You have no wounds on your neck, which would mean—” the duke began, walking over to her and taking her left hand. On turning it over, he found a pair of swollen and unmistakable wounds side by side near her wrist.

  “Those who offer blood to an ‘incomplete’ fall into a stupor, though I hear there are exceptions. Who would’ve thought one of them would be in my domain.”

  The duke let go of her.

  Glia hid her hand behind her back. Her face was flushed red with humiliation.

  “Though brother and sister, in this way he need not hunger, and she wouldn’t become one of our kind—and so long as you didn’t come down off the mountain, the villagers would probably tolerate you. Let me see your injury,” the duke said, raising his right hand.

  The medical device that was at the door glided closer, then halted. A mechanical arm extended from its body, and the trauma scanner at the end of it was turned on Cotil.

  “Please, wait just a minute,” the boy said in a composed voice, halting the machine. To the duke, who now wore a look of suspicion, he said, “The story about me being bit by a mountain snake was a bald-faced lie. I merely wanted you to see me without the damned villagers interfering, and I apologize from the bottom of my heart for misleading you.”

  “What’s the meaning of this?”

  “I’d like you to make me a real vampire.”

  “Oh,” the duke said, not surprised. For an “incomplete,” seeking the power that would let him serve the Nobility rather than live life as a human was, in a sense, the natural choice.

  Before the duke could answer him, D inquired, “And your little sister agrees with this?”

  One look at Glia, who’d had her head lowered ever since her brother had confessed his plan, made her feelings plain. Nevertheless, D had asked.

  “That’s right,” Cotil replied.

  “A word of warning,” said the duke. “Our handsome friend here isn’t one of my vassals. He is the world’s greatest Hunter. And he is here with me because it wouldn’t do to have me escape before he can destroy me.”

  “It can’t be,” the two of them groaned in unison. “Is that really him—D?”

  “It is. Though not in his contract, I’m not sure he would stand idly by while I make you one of the Nobility. Your head would most certainly fly, and mine might as well. So, how about it, D? Will you turn a blind eye to all of this as having nothing to do with you? You would have my thanks for it.”

  “Is his sister fine with it?” D asked once more.

  Her older brother didn’t answer this time. D’s tone had carried something that made it clear no one else could speak for her. All eyes focused on her lithe frame.

  “Well, I . . . ” Glia—that tough little girl—began, sounding like she was ready to cry. Her right hand was wrapped around her left shoulder. No one would protect her. In which case, she’d have to protect herself.

  “I . . . I hate the idea of it. What have I worked so hard for all this time, then? But you . . . you said you’re tired of drinking just my blood . . . You kept badgering me about what you’re supposed to do after I’m dead . . . and I couldn’t tell you.”

  A glittering something fell to the floor.

  “When were you bitten?” D asked, turning to her brother.

  “I was . . . six when it happened.”

  “And your parents?”

  “Dead, both of them . . . in a train wreck a year before. I got bitten at an orphanage. The director was in with the Nobility.”

  “If you were six years old, then your sister was two. And you’ve been feeding off her all this time?”

  Cotil turned his face away. His teeth gnashed together with a sound like steel. When he looked back at them, he wore the face of the devil himself.

  “You’re damned right I did. That’s right. I’ve been drinking my little sister’s blood since the time she was two. And she hated it. But I wouldn’t let her go. I needed her blood if I was going to live without people chasing after me all the time. She ran away time and again. But my eyes can see even at night, and my sense of smell is a hundred times stronger. Most importantly, I can run a hundred yards in less than five seconds. There’s no way she could ever give me the slip. All I ever did for her was make her live alone with me in a shack on this boring old mountain. But now all that’s at an end. Duke, your grace, I beg of you. Please, make me one of your vassals. I’ll serve you well. First of all, I’ll see to this Hunter—”

  The boy’s eyes began to glow with the blood light.

  “Stop it, Cotil!” Glia cried out, writhing. “Cotil, you never think about anybody but yourself—and what am I supposed to do now? Day in and day out you suck my blood. And that’s fine for you, but I still have to eat. But since you didn’t help me at all, Cotil, I had to go off alone and eat roots and berries and bugs and rabbits. Still, I thought I was fine with that, so long as the two of us could live together . . .”

  Such was the confession of the twelve-year-old girl. She’d been giving blood to her brother from the time she was two, and now that same brother said he was tired of life with her so he wanted to become something else and leave her behind. And what of her future?

  “This can’t be helped, Glia. I know you must’ve understood that. I just can’t drink your blood anymore,” Cotil said, a thin smile rising on his lips as he looked toward the window.

  “How many people have you killed?” D asked.

  “Wow, I’m surprised. Turns out you’ve got more going for you than just good looks. So, how could you tell?” Cotil asked, his eyes wide.

  “The stench of blood was too heavy,” D replied.

  The boy laughed. “Oh, hell, so you’re one of us, then? A dhampir? How can you stand to stay in such a half-assed state?”

  “Are the bodies in the yard? Who were they?”

  “It really couldn’t be helped,” Glia shouted, her body quaking. “Some folks from the village we used to live in managed to track us down here and attacked us. And that’s when my brother drank their blood by—”

  “I tore open their throats, and it splashed all over my face. I knew it wasn’t right, but it was too late—no, that’s a lie. I was happy to drink it up!” the boy said, giving them a silent smile. “So, my lord, I think you can see that I have what it takes to become one of your kind. If you’d be so good as to give me the kiss right here, as soon as possible. And once you do, I’ll take out this Hunter first.”

  Cotil suddenly furrowed his brow and turned toward the window, listening intently.

  “Well now, I hear the racket of an old-fashioned transport plane! Hmm, are the folks from the village coming up here, too? They probably know what I want, and have come to beg you not to do it, my lord. So, please hurry, your grace.”

  His youthful face was full of ambition as he turned his carotid artery toward the duke. A few seconds later, he bugged his eyes and glared at D and the duke.

  “Why don’t you grant my wish? You’re afraid of this Hunter, is that it? Then I’ll deal with him first—”

  “Don’t, Cotil!”

  “Shut up!” Cotil snapped, leaping from the bed. In his right hand he gripped a dagger that he must’ve always kept close at hand. Hauling back with it, he let it fly at D.

  A lovely ching! was heard, and Cotil stared down at the left side of his own chest. The dagger was sticking out of it. Drawing and striking in a single motion, D had batted it back, and the boy still couldn’t believe it
had pierced him right through the heart.

  “It can’t be . . . Why? I . . . I just . . .”

  He fell back on the bed, face up. As his body swiftly turned to dust, both the duke and D watched without saying a word.

  “No one, no matter who they are, gets any mercy after pulling a weapon on the man called D—that’s what I’ve heard,” said the duke.

  Making no reply, D turned his eyes to the door.

  II

  A little more than twenty minutes later, there was a tentative knock at the door of the log cabin, and the men from the village below were shocked when the duke and D appeared.

  “You didn’t go and make that punk a Noble, did you?”

  “My lord, anything but that . . .”

  “If you already have, please allow us to beat the life outta the both of ’em.”

  “We’ve brought stakes and axes with us.”

  As the villagers pleaded with their liege, they looked so wretched anyone would be likely to tell them, I hear you, O powerless ones, yet their fervor toward their mission more than made up for it.

  “Be at ease. They’ve already been destroyed,” the duke said, his proclamation sending a buzz through the group. “Our friend D here was good enough to rid us of them. You may return to your village with confidence.”

  “Oh, that’s great. Still, we’ve gotta see the two bodies to be sure.”

  “Brother and sister alike were run through the heart, and the boy turned to dust. The girl’s remains are buried in the garden out back. She cursed the people of your village most vehemently as she breathed her last. Do not tempt fate,” the duke told them, flames beginning to blaze in his eyes.

  The men stiffened, gave out shrieks, and turned around to sprint back to the transport plane that awaited them. They were dealing with the lord of their domain here. And they were no more than serfs he allowed to foster life.

  After watching the transport borne away by old-fashioned propellers, the two men turned and looked back at the house.

  “It’s okay now.”

  Glia appeared.

  As the girl stared straight ahead, the duke told her in a gentle voice, “They shouldn’t come up here again. You may live here or go elsewhere, whichever you prefer.” Taking a hefty purse from an inner pocket, he handed it to her. “On your own, this should be enough to live in luxury all your days. Be free.”

  “You mean I can do as I like?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “In that case, drink my blood, your grace.”

  D quietly turned toward the girl.

  Wrinkles creased the duke’s brow as he asked, “Why?”

  “I can’t live on my own. So please, make me one of the Nobility. If you do, I can live with you, and this man here will likely kill me before I drink anyone’s blood. As he did with my brother. Either way, I won’t have to live alone.”

  Glia’s eyes were vacant. No tears streamed from them. For all her tears had long since dried up. She’d cried them all out over what had come so far, and what was yet to come. What was a girl of twelve supposed to do?

  “Let’s go,” the duke said, turning right around.

  The tiny figure slammed against his broad back, but immediately pulled away again. The handle of a dagger jutted from the duke’s back.

  “Now the villagers will take me in as one of their own. Because all of ’em hate the Nobility in truth.”

  The duke kept on walking. Before following after him, D looked at Glia. She just kept staring straight ahead.

  There was a deep valley there. Anyone could tell that if she leapt into it, it would be the end of her.

  Taking a scarlet seedling out of one of his coat’s inner pockets, D set it down at Glia’s feet.

  “This grows on a lot of the trees around here. Its juice will heal most wounds, and it can be used for food too.”

  What of it?

  Glia didn’t say anything.

  And then D walked away.

  “Whose fault is it things ended up this way?” the hoarse voice asked in the aircraft. “The Noble who drank the boy’s blood, or the humans who drove him into a corner?”

  Nobody answered.

  When they arrived back at the castle, the duke was carried into a room for treatment.

  “I have something to tell you,” the duke said to D.

  The room was swimming in blue light. Having been carried in on a stretcher, the duke lay at its center, while D stood by his side.

  “What do you make of our moonlight energy? It doesn’t seem too bad for you, either!”

  “Let’s hear what you have to tell me.”

  The duke let out a long breath. His mind apparently made up with that, he began, saying, “This energy was developed by a human researcher. At the time, he was already working as a scientist. I found him and personally requested that he join us at my castle. While remaining human. My vassals, Kiniski among them, didn’t much care for that. They didn’t like someone who was neither a true Noble nor a servant of the Nobility being treated as their equal.”

  Though General Kiniski appealed directly to the duke on several occasions, Van Doren would hear nothing of it. In no time, the scientist mastered moonlight energy, and after giving all his know-how to the duke, his vassals, and his scientists, the man left the castle. On his way home, the scientist was attacked. He had guards assigned to him, but they didn’t do any good. His attacker was the greatest warrior in the northern Frontier sectors. He literally cut the scientist to pieces.

  That was unforgivable to the duke. He ordered that the warrior, who had fled, was to be found even if they had to turn over every rock. Two days later the warrior was found walking down the highway in the central Frontier without a care in the world, so General Kiniski’s soldiers raced to the scene only to be promptly slain. On receiving word of this, the prince rushed there and killed the warrior.

  “A hell of a man he was. Strong, but gentle. And that’s only natural. After all, he was lord of this domain at the time. But he was no match for me. Naturally, the son cannot triumph over his father.”

  From the vicinity of D’s left hand, someone let out a gasp.

  The blue light remained unchanged, still coloring the old man on the table and the vision of beauty leaning against a stone wall not far away.

  “After that incident, the role of my successor shifted to my second son—Kazel. For fifty years he defended our domain from traitors and bandits. Defended it with a physical and mental toughness beyond my ken. Though I knew him to be even more talented than Leavis, I had no idea just how much better he was—so for those fifty years, I lived without a care in the world. It was then that I took Sirene as my wife. But then, the great one suddenly appeared.”

  On a white night of insanely blowing snow, the duke had been in a chapel praying to a statue of the Sacred Ancestor. He never would’ve imagined that it would speak to him. I must have one of your family, the statue said. That was how it sounded to the duke. There was no point in asking, Who shall it be? He called for the lord of the land, and then he learned who it was.

  “Do you think a man who worshiped the Sacred Ancestor could voice any objection to the Sacred Ancestor’s actions? I could only accept it. However, such was not the case for my third son. Sacred Ancestor’s will or not, he wouldn’t allow his older brother to be taken away without even a reason given, and he cursed me for a coward as he left. We haven’t met since.”

  Could that be the true source of the aged duke’s melancholy?

  “The Sacred Ancestor was here, too?” D murmured. His form was dissolving into the blue, as if the light had seeped into his pores to enter the blood in his veins.

  “Where did Kazel go?” the duke groaned, moving a little. “If only he were here, I could’ve lived to this ripe old age without ever knowing such weariness.”

  Just then, a faint sound flowed through the air.

  “What is it?” the duke inquired, and the face of a young man floated in space.

 
“Bandits have attacked the village of Melmecky.”

  “Who’s in charge of peacekeeping?”

  “That would be Colonel Picato.”

  “Tell him all his energies are to be devoted to keeping the people of this domain safe. I will be heading out there soon, too.”

  When the duke got up off the table, the caregiver android that was attending to him hastened to stop him, but the Nobleman wouldn’t listen, and ten minutes later he was aboard his aircraft. Even D himself didn’t know why he’d agreed to go along on the trip.

  In the village of Melmecky, only horror remained. There were no survivors. All the buildings had been burnt down, and even Colonel Picato and his peacekeeping force had been brutally destroyed. In the evening there had been a harvest festival, and all of the villagers had been gathered in the public hall when the attack came.

  “There must’ve been an informant. The timing was just too convenient,” said the duke, standing stiff as a board.

  “It seems the attackers were armed with needle guns,” an android who’d been surveying the scene told the Nobleman less than five minutes later.

  Capable of firing tens of thousands of tungsten needles in an instant, each only a few microns long and a fraction of a micron thick, the weapons could reduce a rock to sand with one blast, or turn steel into a sponge. No matter how resilient their armor, any living creature would be killed instantly by it, their nervous system destroyed. It was one of the most powerful weapons humans had devised for fighting the Nobility, so along with crosses and garlic, the weapon had been erased from the memory of all mankind.

  “All existing ones should’ve been melted down by the Ministry of Public Affairs. Do you mean to tell me they found some?”

  It was D who answered the duke’s question, saying, “Whether they found them or not, they have the weapons. They just had to make them.”

  “Make them?” the duke said, knitting his hoary eyebrows.

  “It wouldn’t be all that strange. The needle gun was originally a human invention.”

  “What happened to it being erased from their memories?”

  “Even if they forgot how to make them, they can create anything if necessity dictates. You could take their memories again and they’d still build the same thing, and be applauded with the same fervor as the first time. That’s how humans are.” D then added, “Also,” but stopped there.