An Audience

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Konrad’s knock was greeted by a gentleman, advanced in age, with a thin mustache as well as clothing and bearing that marked him as the butler to the Count. He peered at Konrad with a disdainful demeanor and changed his expression to confusion when his eyes swept over to Sophia standing aside.

“And whom, may I say is calling?”

Konrad touched his hat and bowed slightly. “Konrad Mydlar, Royal Executioner of Magvaria. Sent here by the Prince-Regent to render aid to his lordship, Count Alarik Eisenvary of Nordemars.”

The butler regarded Konrad for a few moments, clearly annoyed and looking for every excuse to send him away.

“You have papers?” he asked, finally.

Konrad retrieved the warrant from his pocket and handed it over. The butler snatched it away and examined it, then glanced up at Konrad, back to the warrant, then looked up again.

“I highly doubt his lordship will want your ilk sullying his halls. You will wait here.”

Just as he was about to disappear behind the door, he caught sight again of Sophia and changed his manner of speech immediately to a more pleasant tune.

“My apologies, Dame, you wish to see his lordship as well?”

Sophia, casting a side glance at Konrad, looked back to the butler.

“Yes,” she answered. “I am sent her by my order to offer aid to his lordship as well.”

“Splendid,” the butler glowed. “Splendid, he will want to see you right away. This way please.”

The butler ushered Sophia inside, who looked back at Konrad with a look of sympathy.

“And Master Mydlar?” she asked.

The butler sneered at Konrad, “Tch, that mongrel can wait for an audience out here with the rest of the beasts. Come.”

Sophia opened her mouth to protest but Konrad intervened.

“Very well,” Konrad relented. “I will wait out here for his lordship.”

“And stay away from the fountain,” the butler warned. “We don’t need your foul humors corrupting the water.”

The door slammed shut and Konrad was left alone on the doorstep. Turning back he rejoined Rayk who was tending to the horses. At his master’s approach he looked up and smirked.

“Stay away from the fountain,” he said mockingly, ushering the least amount of effort in mimicking the speech of the butler. “I’ve got a mind to drop my arse in it right now out of spite.”

“Please don’t,” Konrad chuckled. “The fountain is innocent in this.”

"Fine."

***

Inside, the butler lead Sophia down the long gallery towards the library. She glanced at the portraits of Eisenvary patriarchs as well as matriarchs who had ruled the estate throughout the generations. She noted they all seemed to bear the same stern visage and as she passed Count Alarik’s portrait, she saw that he most certainly continued the family tradition.

“The Count will be most pleased at your presence, Dame.”

Sophia, who until now had been ignoring the butler, turned her attention back to him.

“My apologies,” he began. “For not addressing you sooner and before that…thing outside. I had a hard enough time holding my breath from behind the door, I can’t imagine what he smelled like standing right next to him.”

She did not respond. Was not going to respond. There was no way she was going to dignify the disdain the butler had for Konrad. Though she could understand being apprehensive around a man who dealt in death, perhaps even a little intimidated by his veneration and the rumors that surrounded it. The outright malice that was shown just a few moments ago however, left Sophia feeling annoyed. Konrad’s office was a necessary part of society and the enforcement of the law. Someone had to do it.

Besides, she thought inwardly, he smelled nice.

Sophia involuntarily twitched her head at the mental intrusion, casting it aside in a figurative sense. Such thoughts wouldn’t do. Wouldn’t do at all.

Arriving at the library she was presented to the Count who was sitting at an open, finely polished wooden table reading a great tome about history. At the announcement, he rose up and walked over, stopping just in front of her and bowing.

“Dame, it is an honor,” he said, rising up. “The warrior maidens of the Ecclesia are always welcomed in my halls.”

She bowed, martially, in turn, “I thank his lordship for his kindness and hospitality.”

“Oh,” the butler interjected. “Nearly forgot, that headsman has arrived your lordship. I told him to wait outside.”

“Why?”

The question caught the butler by surprise.

“W-why? Well, um, that is… He’s a headsman your lordship. I had assumed you would not someone of his ilk-“

“You assumed wrong,” the Count interrupted. “Bring him in. I have a feeling the fair Dame and our sullied guest are here for similar reasons and I loath wasting time.”

When the butler did not move immediately, Alarik regarded him sternly.

“As I also loath repeating myself.”

At that the butler scurried away quickly, disappearing into the gallery hall and near sprinting to the front door.

“That was kind of you,” Sophia remarked.

“Practical,” Alarik corrected. “I will not insult you by lying, for I share my butler’s sentiments in truth. But at this point if a dung farmer could rid me of these howlers that plague my lands I will shower him with gold and call him kin.”

The butler returned with Konrad.

“The Royal Executioner, Master Konrad Mydlar, your lordship.”

Conrad removed his hat and bowed slightly. Alarik flicked his hand in a gesture for the butler to go away. When the door closed behind him, the Count took a moment to appraise this trusted agent of the crown.

Mentally, Alarik had to confess at some surprise. Konrad appeared to be a landed gentleman, such was the quality of his dusky clothes. His demeanor too, was rigid with discipline and confidence. Not defiant in the face of Alarik but certainly not meek either. The man’s muscles could be seen beneath the fabric of his jacket and armor, his eyes keen and observant. And he was likely doing the same to Alarik as he was doing to him.

“I must admit Master Mydlar,” Alarik spoke finally. “You certainly do not look the part of a lumbering oaf with an axe.”

Konrad remained silent and Alarik did not expect an answer.

“To the matter at hand,” he began. “For the past three months my land has been plagued with werewolves. They eat the livestock, kill my peasants and do things to the women they catch that I do not care to relate in mixed company. Rest assured it is not pleasant.”

Alarik continued, “I am told by His Highness, Master Mydlar, that you are somewhat of an expert in these matters. Tell me, how do we deal with this threat?”

“First, if you’ll pardon the offense your lordship,” Konrad started, drawing Alarik’s full attention as well as Sophia’s. “It is true that werewolves do indeed plague your lands, but the creatures responsible for much of the attacks on your livestock and people are in fact Bzou, a derivative of the werewolf.”

“Bee-zoo?” Alarik said slowly, ensuring he had the phonetics correct.

“Yes, my lord,” Konrad affirmed. “Werewolves are cunning creatures. Though they have base desires they are much more clever in how they go about their business. More careful, so to speak.”

Konrad continued to explain, “Bzou, however, are perversion and lust manifest. They are constantly in thrall with their desires which often prevails in the form of one of two things: the pleasures of the flesh or the consumption of it. They remain constantly in a man beast form and are completely unaffected by the moon.”

“How does one become a bzou?” asked Alarik.

“Bites by a werewolf or another bzou, provided neither one of them eats you before the disease turns you.”

Alarik raised an eyebrow, “Being bitten by a werewolf, doesn’t turn you into a werewolf, it turns you into a bzou?”

“Yes,” Konrad nodded. “All werewolves and bzou naturally possess a sort of ‘venom’ in their saliva that contains a diabolical variation of hydrophobia called Cynocepholosis or what the laymen would call Hound’s Blight. A person infected with this loses their humanity and inhibition, making their soul particularly susceptible to possession.”

“So it’s a spiritual disease as much as it is a physical one?” Sophia inquired.

“Precisely.”

“Let us get back to my question,” Alarik directed. “How do we deal with this threat, bzou or werewolf or otherwise?”

“Werewolves often form in a coven,” Konrad elaborated. “Centered around a leader commonly called the Alpha or the Father. If you eliminate this leading figure the whole coven will go into disarray and the bzou will fall into a trance and perish. In short, he is the infernal anchor, the central part of the web."

“Simple enough,” Alarik mused. “Yet, how do we find this alpha?”

“We would need to capture a werewolf and extract information from them. Work our way up the hierarchy brick by brick until we discover the identity of the Alpha, at which point we can kill him and bring this situation under control.”

“Very well then, Master Mydlar, Dame Euler,” Alarik said glancing at each of them. “Seek out that alpha and bring his head to me.”

“Yes your lordship,” Sophia saluted, right hand covering her heart.

Konrad said nothing, only nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“Father?”

All eyes moved towards the door again, this time Lady Isolde, the Count’s daughter appeared. She was a vision of beauty, her violet eyes striking. Her lily-hued skin was flawless as was her hair of golden locks. She wore a blue dress with white trim, a bonnet and appeared to have just come from a stroll from the gravel walk outside.

“Oh,” she said. “I beg your pardon, I did not wish to interrupt.”

“Nonsense,” Alarik waved dismissively. “Our guests were just leaving.”

Taking that as the signal to depart, Konrad and Sophia bowed and then exited the room. As he passed by, Konrad could sense violet eyes scanning him intensely, following him even after he closed the door.

Back out in the long gallery, Konrad and Sophia walked together.

“We will need to go to town to procure provisions,” Sophia suggested. “I will also need to get a new carbine as well as ammunition. Given that my now long gone saddlebag had much of that in it.”

“Probably will need a place to stay as well,” Konrad added. “Somewhere to serve as our base. You should ask his lordship if he will spare you a horse.”

“Oh?” Sophia paused mid-step, causing Konrad to halt as well. “Have you grown tired of my embrace on the road?”

Konrad scoffed, clearly not unnerved by the teasing, “It would be more enjoyable if I were able to observe from behind, as Rayk did on way the here.”

Konrad began to walk, his eyes smiling as he looked back at Sophia wearing a faux mask of scandal before she moved to join him again.

“Are all headsmen this cheeky?”

“A man in my line of work needs a sense of humor, otherwise you’ll go mad.”

Sophia smiled faintly, “I suppose that’s true. Very well, Master Mydlar, perhaps I shall ride ahead with Rayk this time?”

Konrad glanced at her but said nothing more. Instead just shaking his head as they exited the manor.

Outside they were greeted with the sight of their horses standing in the midst of the fountain, one of them having already defecated in it.

Konrad shot a look over at Rayk who had his hands up in shock but could barely stifle the look of pure enjoyment on his face.

“Oh no!” he said, clearly not at all alarmed. “I turned away for barely a moment and look what happened!”

Konrad sighed heavily, Sophia stifled a laugh and all three moved to retrieve the horses.