Страница 73 из 74
I had hoped the aftermath of my assaults would provide me with at least several years of respite, time to prepare for the next attack, and for once my wish was granted.
I could thank my enemy for that, for his delay gave me the time to strengthen my own defenses. His temporary weakness made me strong. And until he realized that the continuing result for both of us in our ongoing war would ever be a draw, I would have to continue to watch, wait, and prepare for his next attack.
Unless… unless I got very, very clever again.
EPILOGUE
736 Barovian Calendar, Mordentshire, Mordent
When Van Richten's voice died away, Mrs. Heywood closed the book with a thump.
Lord Strahd von Zarovich. Such a terrible man, she thought-though he couldn't really be a man at all. And as for that Azalin creature, why, it couldn't possibly be the same Azalin that ruled Darkon today. It couldn't possibly…
She shook herself as if to jar the awful thought from her mind and looked at Van Richten, but his attention was obviously turned inward. He seemed utterly unaware of her presence. What was he thinking? Certainly nothing pleasant to judge by his bloodless face.
But…but…it was just a book after all.
The more she thought about it, the more she came to realize that the tale was not truly a history of anything that had really happened; it was something made up. That had to be it. The idea of living in a world where things like Strahd and Azalin and zombies walked-it was just too horrible to think on. Besides, all the geography was wrong. Darkon had no common border with Barovia, there were other lands in the way. How silly to write a story as if they were joined together. How very, very silly. Fantasy, it was merely a madman's fantasy about something that never happened. Now there were always rumors of wars coming from Darkon, but nothing ever came of it. Just enough fact had been mixed in to make it interesting, and frightening. The writer had merely used the names of real rulers to make it seem more truthful. An odd literary device, but nothing more. Still, it had shaken her. Van Richten, too, poor man. He'd be wanting one of his sleeping draughts tonight himself.
"Doctor?" She lightly touched his shoulder. When he did not respond, she spoke a bit louder. "Dr. Van Richten?"
"Eh?" He slowly returned from whatever path his mind had been wandering and blinked at her.
"Would you like me to make you some tea?" After all that reading he'd be as dry as dust.
"Oh, ah, that's most kind of you, but another time perhaps. I think I shall have to be going home to make a few arrangements."
"Arrangements for what?"
"Just a short trip. It's lovely weather for traveling, don't you think?" He gathered up his long discarded outer coat and slipped it on, doing the buttons up wrong.
"Traveling where?" she asked, trying to keep exasperation from her voice.
"Mm?" He concentrated on fixing the buttons.
"Are you saying that the awful things in this book are going to send you off to who knows where?"
"Who knows what?" he inquired absently as one of the buttons came away in his hand. "Dear me, I shall have to pack a needle and thread."
"Doctor!"
"Eh?" He finally focused on her.
"You don't actually believe anything in that book, do you? Nothing in it makes any sense. It's no more than a silly fictionalization. I've said it was a forgery and I still stand by my judgment."
Van Richten opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again. A quick sad smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "Yes, you're right, of course. It's a lot of nonsense. What a dreadful thing it would be if creatures like that were ru
"My thoughts exactly," she said with some relief. "Are you-are you still pla
"Yes, actually, but only to see about locating a new dealer for importing fe
She bit her tongue to keep from commenting on that one. Whatever journey he had in mind, she was sure it had to do with that book. There was certainly much more to Rudolph van Richten than he wanted people to know. But until and unless he chose to confide in her, she'd have to respect his privacy.
He completed his struggle with the buttons. "Now about the purchase of this book-have you decided on a price?"
She made a brief i
"I've never known you to set anything but a fair charge on your goods, Mrs. Heywood. I shall return tomorrow with full payment."
"Providing that Mr. Milos accepts my offer," she added as a caution. "He might not, you know."
"I'm sure everything will turn out fine, but I should very much like to be here when he returns. I could just browse the shelves while you conclude your business with him."
She pursed her lips, weighing his desire against practicalities. It was not exactly good business to allow him to hear what she pla
"I appreciate your concern, Doctor, but I would prefer to take care of this on my own, as usual. I've dealt with his sort before. He may look rough, but he'll not try anything foolish. I'll pay him fairly and send him on his way."
Van Richten frowned, but finally nodded. "As you wish. But please do be careful, and I don't mean about Mr. Milos."
She glanced at the book on the table, then back to Van Richten.
"Yes, exactly," he said. "Such things tend to attract other negative-ah-influences."
"Influences?" she prompted, troubled by his ma
He made a helpless, throwing away gesture. "Just… just take care to lock your doors and windows."
"I always do, but thank you for your concern."
"And I'll see you first thing in the morning about payment."
He settled his hat on his head and started to leave, but paused as though he had more to say. Mrs. Heywood waited him out, but he finally only shrugged, smiled, and wished her a good evening.
The afternoon was long spent. If Milos did not return soon she would have to lock up for the night. One of her strict unbroken rules was to shut her business at sunset, the same as most of the rest of the town.
She tidied up for the day, stopping frequently to peer through the curtains for any sign of the man. Doubtless he'd filled his waiting by lifting one too many tankards and time had gotten away from him. She was just fitting the brass key into the lock when a shadow fell across her windows. The last stray beams of the setting sun faded, but there was sufficient light for her to identify Milos and open the door for him.
"Goodness, but you cut it fine," she observed. "Everything stops here after dark, you know. This may be a city, but we still keep country hours."
"Did you read it?" He motioned impatiently toward the table where his merchandise rested.
"Yes, and it was interesting enough…" Mrs. Heywood began to explain to him the nature of his find, but he interrupted when she mentioned the business about forgery.
"'Ow can it be a fake when it's sittin' there as real as me?" he demanded. "A book's a book, ain't it?"
"That is so, but there are so many variables." She started to explain that to him as well, but stopped as his eyes glazed over. "Right, you're a busy man and probably want to finish and go on your way," she concluded.
"Truer words were never spoke, ma'am. 'Ow much?"
She named what she knew to be an entirely fair sum, and it was a great relief to her that his face broke into another gap-toothed grin.