The Classified Dossier: Sherlock Holmes and Count Dracula(35)



“Ridiculous,” I said. “I have never met a man of stronger character!”

“Ah,” Holmes said. “Again, I think we have fallen into unscientific language. Certainly I have an iron will in many important matters, but you are well aware of my black moods, the abyss that can entomb me during periods of inactivity. Perhaps strength and stability of character would be a better statement, or perhaps it is something that we do not fully understand yet. Suffice to say that I am not suitable.”

“But, Holmes,” I said, “if death is the only other option…”

“You know how I abhor boredom, Watson; it would be my undoing. You used to frown, with some justification, upon my use of cocaine, but imagine how much worse the addiction to blood would be. It would only be a matter of time before my need for stimulation brought about the worst results, and there would be nothing but time. Nothing but time. You see?”

I nodded miserably, as the horror of my new situation came down fully upon me once again. To sit idly by while the truest companion in the world suffered and died? I did not think I had it in me to do this. My affliction brought many gifts, but the curse of it lay heavy upon me, bringing with it a sense of impending doom.



Dear Mr Holmes and Dr Watson,


I hope you will permit my indulgence in writing to you in this manner, but there are some things here afoot, as Mr Holmes would say, in Transylvania that both of you should be aware of. Our castle is an isolated place, to say the least, and new ideas are slow to travel here. To say that these facts have formed and shaped my husband and his approach to outsiders, other lands and other peoples is an understatement almost to the point of falsehood.

But, it seems, our adventure in England with you has made a profound impression on him, in ways that I, and possibly Vlad himself, are just getting the measure of. He has never been a man, even in his previous life so long ago, to ask for help. He is far too proud. It was only my own abduction and the terrible circumstances that brought him to your doorstep. You gentlemen, for all your differences, dealt with my husband honourably and I believe the exposure has slightly mollified my husband’s not overly generous viewpoint of the human race in general. Suffice to say that the past few centuries have left him, I’m afraid, with a very poor impression of humanity.

Under different circumstances, danger would encourage Vlad to simply reinforce his isolationist policies. While my husband is not a monarch such as you would ordinarily recognize, his wishes influence the Romany bands and Slovak villages occupying the countryside such that it is not too much to view the surrounding area as his dominion. Historically, Vlad has concerned himself only with the health of these immediate peoples and shunned contact with all others.

Now, however, since our return he has extended his interest further into Romania, Bulgaria, Hungary, Galicia, Croatia-Slavonia, Austria, with a few tentative communications to the empires of Germany and Russia. There, for the first time in his living memory, which is a very long time, he has actively sought out other vampires and made some startling discoveries. It appears that our assessment of vampires as completely solitary and territorial creatures is a truism only in Transylvania and mostly due to Vlad’s own dominance. While solitary vampires are still the normal state of affairs outside of my husband’s homeland, they are not the only lifestyle. Vlad has been in contact with a nomadic tribe of horse-riding vampires several dozen strong in Hungary. A self-styled coven of vampire witches live near Krakow, in Poland. There are a group of Austrian nobles that rule in secrecy, unknown to their own monarch. Many more less cohesive groups also exist and Vlad has written and received a great deal of correspondence, as well as reports from his own agents, while I have filled pages and pages of ledgers recording names and places to help him try and keep account of them all. It has been very difficult to make contact with these various groups, since Vlad is known to be both powerful and unfriendly to rival vampires, but one recent change has made this far easier than before.

The Mariner Priest.

It is not only England where his name is whispered. His empire, unknown until a few years ago, is rapidly expanding. Several of the groups above have lost members, either through violence or recruitment, to the Mariner Priest’s organization, which honours no national or geographical boundaries. But for all the rumours, we have yet to unearth any substantial information on the man himself. However, I will forward to you such information as we do have in the hopes that more will be forthcoming.

Fondest wishes,

Mina





Chapter 07

THE H?TEL DU CHTEAU BLANC




“One would think,” remarked Sherlock Holmes, “that the continual existence of vampires in London would at least provide some welcome distraction. Yet, I can only conclude that the average vampire is a dull creature indeed and shockingly predictable. It’s intolerable!”

We were holed up in our rooms in Baker Street, trapped indoors by a storm of such fury that it had all of London under siege. Holmes, in one of his periods of dark lassitude after a successful conclusion to a recent forgery case, had already exhausted his patience on the filing of old cases. He stood now at the window, staring out at the confining storm as if he might banish it by pure force of will.

Though it was pleasurable beyond measure to be back in my rooms at Baker Street again, I dearly missed home. However, I could not even begin to imagine returning to the domicile that Mary and I had shared. Living there in her absence would have been a dreary task. I missed her more than words could express. Unsurprisingly, the faux funeral that I’d been forced to hold in her honour had only deepened the sense of loss and conflict I had regarding the woman, still very much alive, who had once been my wife. Holmes was a noble friend, but he was poor company on the days when the world offered little to challenge or exercise his superior intellect.

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