That very night, so he told, she died, and such an order did indeed come from no less a man than the Palatine of Hungary. Moved either by Christian propriety or by love of the treasure, he complied with the prisoner’s last wishes, gave the lie to the Palatine and instead had the body released whole for burial in the family crypt.
I told him he had done a noble and worthy thing in not permitting the body to be thus desecrated, and yet am left with an unaccountable worry. Word from Ecsed, where lies the crypt, is that none can say where the body lies, or even if it was conveyed there at all…
THREE
A STAKE TOO FAR
Interlude
From: Jonathan Holmwood ([email protected])
To: Dani Văduvă ([email protected])
Date: January 14, 2018
Subject: Re: Mina Harker?
Hi Dani,
Hope you got my emails last night. On with round three!
This one was my work, back in the ’sixties. Romania and Hungary were still largely out of reach behind the Iron Curtain, but Yugoslavia was a bit more negotiable, with the right resources. I’d come across references to the vampire hunts in eighteenth-century Croatia, and figured it had to be a promising lead.
Of course, I didn’t speak a word of Croatian, and my German only got me so far; but I found the inestimable Ana Horvat through university friends back in Cambridge, and funded her to unearth, translate and organise the material that follows.
It wasn’t quite what I was expecting. I find it almost comforting—it shows a humanity I daresay my great-grandparents would struggle to recognise in their enemy.
It’s getting late, so the last section may have to wait until tomorrow.
Jon
A STAKE TOO FAR
Milena Benini
Dear Mr. Holmwood,
Enclosed please find the transcripts and translations of all the documents I could find following your instructions. A part of them were indeed in Vienna, as you supposed, but the trail also led me to the National Archives in Zagreb, and then to the archives of the city of Varaždin. Following the clues I found in this initial corpus, I managed to track down the descendants of Mrs. Magdalena Hranić, who kindly allowed me to rummage through their attic. There, I discovered a small box of documents that obviously belonged to Mrs. Hranić, so I included them in the collection.
I am also enclosing excerpts from the diary of Marcel Bordchamp, acquired through the kind services of my colleague, Prof. Antoine Bordchamp, who was intrigued by the possible familial connection and unearthed the diary at the Alsace Regional Archives, in an improperly catalogued bequest from a private donor. I have only included portions that seemed pertinent to your inquiry; if you should wish to obtain a complete translation of the diary, please let me know.
I have tried to put the documents in chronological order, although, since many were undated, a lot of the ordering had to be based on external clues and/or pure guesswork. This is probably why the events that underlie the documents appear so fantastic. I hope you will be able to reorder them so that it all makes more sense.
Also find enclosed the receipts for all expenses incurred in the research process, and the final bill for my services as research historian and translator (as separate items). It has been a pleasure working for you.
Yours sincerely,
Ana Horvat
Excerpt from Marcel Bordchamp’s diary
MY NEW EMPLOYER is… odd. I have no better word to describe the man. But I am willing to forgive him. What other man would take an obviously sick man such as myself into his service? Admittedly, he claims he only did it to spite my former employer, M. de Veuxtort, who sent me packing the moment I confessed I was suffering from consumption. The Count doesn’t seem to mind my sickness, and is only interested in two things: my efficiency, which is, he says, good enough for his purposes, and my loyalty to him, which he claims must be absolute. He has some very strange turns of phrase like that, and an idiosyncratic sense of humour. Maybe that’s because he’s a foreigner—his ancestral lands lie far to the east. He has arrived with a small staff comprised of people I could swear were Slavs (correction—Ilan says he is Muntenian, which I have noted), but they all dress in the French fashion and speak perfect if uneducated French. There is probably a story there, but I do not know what it is, and have no intention of prying. They all accept me in their midst and are kind enough, but I have no illusion that they would not turn against me the moment I failed our master. All of them meet the requirement of absolute loyalty, of that I have no doubt.
People say that is too much to ask, but I don’t care. He has promised to provide my mother, should she outlive me, with a small pension. For that, I would die in his service. When I told him that, he laughed, and said, “I am counting on that, Bordchamp.”
Strange man.
Addendum No. 34-46 to the dispositions of the Medicinal Office
To the attention of Simon Aigner, Esq., Medicinal Office Assistant.
Following the instructions from Her Majesty’s chambers, and with the approval of the Directorium in Publicis et Cameralibus
We issue the following decision:
To be added into the budget:
the sum of 6 times 360 Taler, as annual salary for 6 field physicians, or a total of... 2,160 Taler;
the sum of 6 times 16 Taler, as coverage for expenses of the field work (travel expenses, accommodation &c.) for said physicians, or a total of... 96 Taler;
This being a total of... 2,256 Taler.
To be held in reserve:
the sum of 120 Taler, as reward for successful findings of cases of vampirism, to be disbursed in amounts of 20 Taler per head of the vampire found & documented; should this amount be exceeded by any given physician or physicians in the field, Her Majesty shall be informed immediately, as she has pledged to reward any possible further findings from her personal coffers.
This being a total of... 120 Taler.
In Vienna, on the 3rd day of January, 1746.
[signed, left, with seal]
Gerard van Swieten,
Personal Physician to Her Majesty,
Maria Theresa, Holy Roman Empress
[signed, right, with seal]
Count Friedrich Wilhelm von Haugwitz,
Head of Directorium
The following note was attached to the document:
Pick the least promising fellows, Simon. This is a wild-goose chase, but we must humour Her Majesty.
Gerard
Excerpt from Marcel Bordchamp’s diary
HE IS FURIOUS, and I am seriously afraid. I have never seen him like that: normally, he is always calm, as if nothing touches him as it does the rest of us mortals. But this morning, he received a letter that threw him into a veritable explosion of rage.
I had left him reading his private correspondence and enjoying his morning meal. Although in many ways an unconventional and open-minded employer, the Count never eats with me, or even in my company; I am served my meals in the small salon, unless I choose to have them with the staff in the kitchen. It’s just another one of his little oddities, and I have grown used to it by now. I had gone to deal with the business mail when I was disturbed by loud crashing. For a moment, I thought the house was falling down around us!
I ran into the dining room, whence the noise had come. What a sight! The great dining table was overturned. It is a twelve-seater made of solid oak; if asked, I would have reserved at least four workers to move it. And yet, it was lying on its side, four chairs broken beneath it, as if someone had swept it aside in anger. His chair lay on its back, and the Count himself stood among the broken dishes, a small vase of flowers miraculously preserved at his feet.
He heard me open the door and whirled around like a wild beast. His eyes were completely red: not red as if from crying, either, but a deep, crimson red that seemed almost to glow eerily in the soft light that penetrated the thick curtains. (He likes to keep the curtains closed at all times. Prevents unwanted vi
sitors, he claims.)
For a moment, he just stood there, watching me. After the clatter, the silence was downright ominous. Then he muttered something—I’m guessing a curse—in his native tongue and rushed past me out of the room. I was about to follow him when a strong hand gripped my elbow, making me jump. It was Ilan, one of the Muntenian servants.
“You are a very lucky man, Monsieur Bordchamp,” he said. “Do not test your luck.”
I understood his meaning immediately, and bent and started collecting the broken dishes from the floor. Strangely enough, I did not see any traces of food. Perhaps he had just finished eating when whatever it was made him jump up in anger. Just out of curiosity, I tried righting the table on my own. I couldn’t even move it. I am a sick man, it is true; yet, later, it took six of the Count’s servants to set the massive table straight.
As we were straightening up the room, I found a piece of paper on the floor: a letter, crumpled and thrown away. At first, I put it in my pocket without thinking, fully intending to give it back to the Count when he had calmed down some. But he stayed away all day and most of the night—he gets up after twelve anyway, so most of his “day” passes in darkness—and, in the end, curiosity got the better of me. I took the still-wet paper out and looked at it. I wanted to see what could send my normally poised employer into such a rage. The letter must have landed in the wine the Count had been breakfasting on, and what little I could read explained even less. Yet I kept the letter, and will have to try and think of a way to breach the subject with him.
Ah. He has finally returned, and is calling for me. I shall finish this entry later.
The following loose page was inserted after the page:
Vlad,
I know you have no reason to help me. But if you don’t, I will surely die—I am barely holding up as it is. We have betrayed each other many times, Vlad. You can betray me one last time and be done with me forever. I will not even hold it against you when next we meet in eternal flames, yet— [remainder illegible: the majority of the page is preserved, but has been soaked in wine, or perhaps blood]
[recto empty]
The next entry is undated, but may be a continuation:
IT CANNOT BE. It simply cannot.
Bill of sale, from Magdalena Hranić’s effects
Sekula & Krayach, Household Goods
Kaputzinerplatz 6,
Warasdin
Bill of sale
Date: 17th of February, 1746.
Item: candlestick, silvered, well-preserved, 1 pc: 3 Gr.
Item: set of silverware, 1 spoon missing, 27 pcs: 15 Gr.
Item: travelling writing set, in leather case, 1 pc: 7 Gr.
Item: pipes, Meerschaum, carved, reasonably preserved, 2 pcs: 4 Gr.
Item: cuirass, used, but well-preserved, 1 pc: 6 Gr.
Item: dessert plates, set, well-preserved, 12 pcs: 8 Gr.
Total: 46 Gr.
Paid to:
Magdalena Dorotea Hranić (widow), née Jurić.
[signed, left, illegible]
[signed, right]
Magdalena Hranić
Letter from Bartol Povšić to Marcel Bordchamp
Topliss, 18th of February, 1746
Dear Mr. Bordchamp,
It is our pleasure to inform you that, as per your request, we have reserved a suite at our establishment for the use of your employer for an indefinite period, starting with the 2nd day of March this year. We hope that the Count will find our waters, that first found their use in Roman times, beneficial to his health.
Of course, we shall also do our utmost best to provide the Count with any comfort he might require. I must confess that the request for additional ground floor accommodation with a private garden is somewhat unusual. If you believe this could suit your employer, we do have at our disposal a fine little house somewhat apart from the rest of the bathing complex. We could equip the house with our finest furniture, and provide all the gardening tools your employer might need in the pursuit of his hobby. If this should not be satisfactory, please, advise us as to any modifications to this arrangement you would like us to undertake.
With the expressions of our sincerest regards,
Bartol Povšić,
Hauptdirektor,
Warasdin Topliss Baths
[in bottom left area of the paper, in a different, wider hand]
It will suit. Confirm.
V.D.
[below, in a third, small and neat hand]
Notified by return post. B.
Letter from Anneliese Lehner to Erhard Ferdinand Pradl
Vienna, 19th of February
Dearest Didrl,
Please, please tell me that Papa was joking when he said you were going away! You knowI couldn’t bear to live in one of those horrible provinces! If we are to marry, we can only ever live in Vienna or, in the worst of all horrible cases, in Graz—in short, somewhere where there is music, and salons, and where, every now and then, you can smuggle me into your working rooms so I can see your experiments and assist you when no one is looking! (I understand that in Graz, they are very keen on cutting up dead people, which I should probably think is rather horrible, but I must confess it would be interesting to see the inside of a person for once. Can we arrange that? And do not say a word to my brother, of course. He would die of shock.)
In any case, if that’s what makes you happy, yes, I shall settle in Graz and love it, even though it will mean being far from Mama and my friends and the court. But a province! Where they still burn witches! That cannot be! Reassure me promptly, please!
Yours (if you stay in civilisation)
Anneliese
Letter from Erhard Ferdinand Pradl to Anneliese Lehner
Vienna, 19th of February
My dear, dear girl,
Lay your fears to rest. Your father was not joking, but, at the same time, I am not planning on moving into any of the provinces you find so distasteful, believe me. I have, however, accepted the position of field physician, as part of a small, informal group that Herr van Sweiten has put together to investigate some rather disturbing reports we have received recently. I shall not bother you with details, sweet Liesel, but I want you to know that one of the main reasons I have accepted this position is exactly so that I could provide you with the life in the capital in the style that you deserve. The salary I have been promised is very good, and there is the possibility of additional monies.
At the same time, I hear life in the provinces is significantly cheaper, so I am hoping to save up a good portion of what I earn, and use the lot as payment for a house in Vienna. In that way, you would not have to live under the same roof as Mater, which I know would make you happy. It is not, trust me, that I think you do not like my family, but I am aware that your youth and exuberance suffer when you have to subdue them as you are obliged to do before my parents.
Furthermore, if you will excuse my boldness, I hope to start a family with you as soon as we are wed, and Mater would certainly not take kindly to the bustle and clamour of little children in the house. As things stand, to be honest, we could barely afford to keep a decent household in Graz, and we would be obliged to rent. In this way, we might not have to move at all. And I don’t even have to tell you that, as a doctor having worked more or less directly under van Sweiten, I shall also have significantly better prospects of building a career.
It will only be for a year, dear Liesel, which means that I shall return six months before our wedding date as it is now set. I expect it to be a long, dreary year, so far away from you, but I could not pass up the possibility to make our future life so much better. Please, tell me that you will wait for me, and write to me every day while I toil among the savages.
I kiss both your sweet hands,
Erhard Ferdinand Pradl
Excerpt from Marcel Bordchamp’s diary
MY DUTIES ARE getting stranger every day. They aren’t necessarily any more difficult, and to be completely honest I am having quite an interesting time
—more interesting than I had ever hoped to have within my secretarial duties. But sometimes, I get stumped by what is expected of me. The other day, I was required to locate some obscure place in one of the Austrian provinces. It seems that we will be travelling there. And taking along a coffin! The Count insisted on getting one here in France; apparently, he has had some bad experiences with poor workmanship in less developed areas.
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