The Hunt

The door to the smithy stood open. River saw Andreji light a fire. He remained standing at the door, uncertain if he was wanted in the room. His Master glanced at him.



“Would you be so kind to lend him some of your warm clothes? In his present state, you two should have about the same size.” His voice was a little calmer than before, but still void of any emotion.



There were questions burning on River’s tongue, but he dared not pose them. Instead he fetched the requested items.



Andreji’s hand brushed his own when he gave them to him. “Thank you.” Their gazes locked for a moment. A small instant of intimacy between them.



River felt heartened by that. From his standpoint in front of the fireplace, he could see the stone bench on which the visitor rested, covered by a thick blanket, eyes closed. He was not certain if he recognised the man - he had looked different on the picture River had seen – but from the exchange he had overheard, River had derived who he must be and needed to ascertain that. He had to ask, had to know. “Is this… Demyan?”



Andreji dropped his gaze to the floor and nodded silently. He walked over to the shivering man. “Come on; let me help you into warmer garments.” Andreji aided the weak man to sit up and started unbuttoning his shirt.



River turned away in respect of the man’s privacy. Of course, it filled him with discomfort to see the familiarity between the two men.



“Where have you got this anyway?” Andreji’s voice sounded behind River, directed at the man beside him. “It is not your size.”



A short bout of dry laughter. “I had no choice. I needed blood and something that made me look normal, modern. So I took his clothes.”



River pricked up his ears.



“You took his clothes?” Andreji seemed to have the same notion that River had.



“I hadn’t had a drink for two months, Andreji. I…”



“You know I am not the man to blame you,” Andreji fended him off. “Only, these days it is dangerous doing that. They can identify you through the traces that you leave on your victim’s body, your saliva even. Where did you leave the corpse?”



“In his apartment,” Demyan replied. He named an address. “I read about those new methods. He brought me a pack of books or magazines, sometimes. I also had a radio. Still, I could not help it…”



Andreji pulled out his cell phone and dialled a number. He rose from the stone bench and took a few steps while he waited for the call to be answered.



River watched him. In the background, their visitor continued dressing.



“I have a job for you,” Andreji said without a greeting into the speaker. “I want you to find out if there has been found a corpse in Mr. Barlow’s apartment at…” He repeated the address. “If not, please take care of it.” After a moment of listening to the person at the other end of the line, he hung up.



Andreji stood silent, his eyes on his visitor, who in turn stared into the flames. River’s stomach churned. He staggered backwards onto the stool.



Andreji, meanwhile, went out of the room.



River watched Demyan. He would not have recognised him had he not heard what he and Andreji had discussed. There was nearly no resemblance to the man on the faded photograph River had found back in the caves in Scotland. Had his hair been short, it was long and unkempt, now, but it still had the same nearly black colour. His face was shaven this time (probably something he had done in the apartment in which now a corpse resided), but it was slimmer, as was his whole body. He was pale and his eyes were streaked with red veins and foggy as he kept on staring into the fire. Suddenly, he met River’s gaze.



The young man quickly averted his eyes, unwilling to provoke any kind of interaction.



Andreji came back with a chair from the kitchen. He closed both doors on his way. It must nearly be dawn. To River’s surprise, Andreji handed him a drink. From the looks and the sound of it, it was lemonade. The young man stared at him questioningly.



“Vodka lemon. You look as if you need it.”



Indeed. That sounded good. River took it and gulped down half of the glass’ content.



Andreji sat down in front of Demyan and poured him a cup of a steaming drink out of a thermos flask. The man took it gladly. Andreji poured himself a second cup. He leaned back, sighing audibly. River sat behind him and merely saw his shoulders tense. “I know you must be exhausted, but I need a few answers before I can even think of going to sleep myself. I need you to at least give me a rough outline of what has happened.”



Demyan drew in a deep breath. “A rough outline, then,” he conceded. The man closed his eyes tiredly. “I waited in my house hoping that you would find my letter and follow my suggestion to dispel our disagreements. He suddenly turned up. I still do not know for certain how he obtained the information where I was or that I had fledglings. I can only assume that Sage has told the wrong person details and it turned into gossip…” He gulped and took a sip of his warm drink. “In any case, he was there, with helpers. Human helpers. Many of them. In unison, they overpowered me, chained me, and brought me to a house in the suburbs of London, into the cellar. Everything was prepared. It was like a bunker, furnished and secured so I could not escape. He kept me there.



“He used to come by about once a month on average. Usually he had a prostitute with him, for me to feed on. No killing, of course. He supplied me with clothes, reading material and other things and bathed in his triumph over me.” Demyan smirked darkly.



“When he stopped coming by, eventually, I thought he had finally abandoned me. Two days ago, however, he turned up there, angry. He looked pale, skinny. Something must have happened. He threatened me, raged around in the cell, saying that you had gone too far and pressing me to tell him where you would hide. He looked pale. And suddenly he swaggered. He had forgotten all his caution. I used the moment and sprinted to the door. I locked it, searched through the house, found some money with which I could go into the city… -You know the rest.”



For a moment, there was silence in the room. “What did you do?” Demyan asked eventually.



Andreji leaned back and stared sideways into the flames. He shrugged minutely. “He made a grand act out of saying he had punished you for your betrayal, that he had killed you, and that it should be a warning for everyone else. Part of that grand act was to ‘take me in’ and ‘take care of me as if I were his own fledgling since I was not to blame for my Master’s sins’. He thought you had just recently made me.”



Demyan chuckled. “Yes. I’ve noticed that he thought so.”



“I played along, accepted the position he assigned me, and sabotaged him without him ever noticing. To everyone present, I was his lapdog, his most loyal follower. Just a man who needed guidance. Exactly what he wanted me to be.” Andreji massaged his forehead and brushed his hair back.



“But he found out in the end?” Demyan assumed.



Andreji shook his head, smirking. “No. He has no idea. Yet, when I decided to try to take River on as a fledgling and I realised he might actually be a good choice, that we might get along, everything in me revolted against staying in Scotland. I thought it was time to move on, to start a life in freedom again. To demonstrate my true stance on his leadership, I challenged him to a duel. I guess, the sudden interruption in his visits has something to do with the silver blade I used in our duel.” Andreji looked down into his cup. “I can only assume that his reappearance now has something to do with the disappearance of his favourite fledgling…”



“With which, of course, you have nothing to do…” Demyan supplemented smiling knowingly.



Andreji lifted his hands. “How would I?”



After a moment of silence, Andreji rose and carried the chair to a wall. “Let us catch some sleep, now. I will leave the tea with you.”



River understood this as the end of the night. He rose to go to his room. He was tired enough, even though he doubted he would find sleep easily.



Andreji held him back. “Would you care to join me?” he murmured. His face looked tired, but he looked right into River’s eyes.



“I have to give lessons tomorrow…,” River objected, even though he wanted to follow Andreji’s invitation, was relieved to see that Andreji wanted him even though his old lover had come back. It surprised him, if he was honest to himself. He had been on edge, dreading what the next night would bring. He was still not eased, but the invitation was a good sign, was it not?



“I do not see where the problem lies,” Andreji retorted. His gaze was intense.



“Fine,” River conceded.







When they lay in bed together, River felt Andreji’s arms enclose him tightly from behind. The man exhaled heavily. “It’s a shock for you, after all those years, isn’t it?” River prompted him to voice his troubles.



There was no reply.



River felt Andreji’s strong pulse against his back. He caressed the hand that rested against his chest gently and closed his eyes.