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Elvira Van Dorn - Tremere
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A Chat with the Prince
“It is only in adventure that some people succeed in knowing themselves--in finding themselves.”
André Gide
The first reason was a simple one. Elvira had respected Dougal Galloway a great deal, and Dougal was Cormac’s sire. Since Dougal was dead, the boy was the only link she still had to him. Well, other than Christina Strong, but since Christina had never actually known Dougal she really didn’t count.
The second reason for Elvira’s relief tied in with the first. Because of how she felt for Dougal, she had been reluctant to contemplate ordering the boy’s demise. If Cormac had showed signs of aggression toward any of the Tremere in Salem, Micky had been given orders to destroy him.
Ford had agreed that the first two nights were the most crucial. That more than anything had sparked Micky’s refusal to allow Elvira to see Cormac until now. The impertinence of the boy, to think that he could tell his sire, let alone his prince, who she could and could not see. But that thought was filled with affection and amusement, not venom. It was well known in Salem that Micky George was Elvira’s favorite childe.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Cormac entered the room. He came over to her and bent to kiss her ring. She watched him carefully as she greeted him, mindful of any moves he might make to try and destroy her. While they exchanged polite conversation, she studied his aura.
He seemed calm and conservative, usual colors for this particular Tremere. However, there was one difference and it worried the prince; he had thick black lines running through his aura. She’d been told of his murder of the Brujah who had killed his sire and she wondered how that and the events of the last few weeks had affected him.
“Were you able to find out what happened to Dougal?” she asked after a moment.
“Yes my prince, I was,” he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. For Cormac, that hint of emotion was quite a change.
When he said nothing more, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Would you care to share? After all, Dougal was a friend of mine as well.” Cormac’s sire had not come often to Salem, but when he had Elvira had spent many nights talking with him.
“Of course,” he said respectfully. “I tracked his killer, Earl Hardy of the Brujah, to Nashville. And with some help from a few... acquaintances of mine killed him.”
Ah, yes, the acquaintances. For the most part they were the reason that Cormac was being watched so carefully. Faith, the Chantry Regent in Nashville, had told Elvira several things about Cormac’s friends and none of it was good.
“That would explain the new aspect of your aura,” she murmured, thinking about those friends in Nashville. “How are Mr. Johnson and your sister?”
There was no outward reaction from Cormac when he replied. “They are well. Hot tempered and bull-headed, but well.”
Which didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know. Apparently efforts had been made over the last twenty years to limit Glenn Johnson’s hunting activities, but none of them had been successful. It was hard to control someone when they could use magic to get away from you in an instant. Unfortunately, Cormac’s sister had married the hunter and taken up his trade right along with him, just like her brother had twenty years ago.
“Ford spoke with your sire the last time he was in town,” she told Cormac, watching him carefully. “Dougal expressed his concerns about what might happen should you regain memories of your life in Baltimore. Did he have reason to be concerned, young Cormac?”
“No, My prince,” he said quite convincingly. “You needn't worry. I have come to terms with what I was and with what I have become.”
She believed him. “Some would conjecture that remembering your activities during that time of your life would prompt you to continue them, especially since you have become reacquainted your sister.” She relaxed imperceptibly and smiled, more than a little relieved to hear that he wouldn’t resume the hunting he’d once been known for. “I’m glad to see that isn’t the case.”
He nodded slightly, almost if he knew what she was thinking.
“Were you able to find Dougal’s grimoire?” the prince asked. That had been what he’d said he was after when he left town two week ago.
“Yes, I recovered it in Paris,” Cormac informed her. “There was an interesting section on a new path that I have started to study. I have already been able to produce some minor results.”
Dougal had said that his childe learned quickly and here was the proof. “That’s quite impressive. If you need any assistance, please let me know. I’m sure one of the clan members in town will be able to help you.”
Salem’s Tremere had a diverse collection of Thaumaturgical paths among them; unless it was a really obscure path, someone in town would have knowledge of it. There was time enough to find out what path he was trying to learn; right now she had more important things to deal with. It was time to see how much influence Eliza had gained over Cormac. She was the other reason his behavior was being scrutinized.
“Have you spoken with the mole since you’ve been back in town?” From what she could tell, Eliza had been very influential in his life when they’d lived in Baltimore. The prince needed to know how influential she would be now that they had found each other again.
“I have not spoken with her in person my Prince,” he said. She could detect sadness in his aura and his voice, but he was hiding it well. “We have both been busy resuming our duties.”
Which was as it should be. “I spoke with the mole earlier this evening,” she told him, still watching him very carefully. “I will have to say that her behavior surprised me, especially after that unfortunate incident in Burlington. What exactly did you do to make her so… cooperative?”
Because of the girl’s change in attitude, it was likely that the prince and Alden wouldn’t have to arrange the untimely death of the mole any time soon. That was good news; Eliza was too good of a warrior to destroy unless it was absolutely necessary. They had also discussed tying her more closely to the Tremere clan, perhaps even ghouling her to one of them in the city, but right now her contract stood in the way of that.
“Burlington, my Prince?” Cormac asked, a little surprised.
“There was an… unfortunate incident there with the chantry regent,” she told him, keeping her words deliberately vague. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it.” It was common knowledge if you knew what questions to ask, but then again he had, until a few nights ago, lived on the West Coast.
“Eliza is rather,” he paused for a moment, then continued, “apprehensive in telling me about the time between my embrace and three weeks ago.”
“I believe I understand why she would be unwilling to retell that particular incident,” she replied honestly. Elvira wouldn’t have been eager to share if the torture the girl had endured had happened to her either. “Luther was a little… extreme in his methods of enforcing his interpretation of the contract. We believe she killed him, although she claims it was a Society hit she was not able to stop. However she was able to help one of his servants escape.”
That servant was currently in the dungeon, waiting until his blood bond to Ford was complete before he was given enough vitae to regrow his tongue. It wouldn’t do to have stories of the mole spread about town by a resentful ghoul, even if they were true. Especially if they were true.
“She has not told me of that incident,” he said slowly. He was obviously curious, but reluctant to ask. There was the contract after all, and it did stipulate that the mole’s past was not to be investigated.
Elvira gave him an understanding smile, then said, “You never did say what you did to make her more cooperative.”
“I showed her that not all Kindred are monsters,” he said simply. “And that life could be easier if she were a bit more… civil.”
Civil: that was a word that wasn’t often used to describe the mole. Hot-tempered, aggressive, frighteningly strong; those had been used and often by those she had beaten in combat, those that lived to tell about it, anyway.
“Ford and I have often wondered what caused her hatred of Kindred.” Elvira murmured aloud. “When we learned that you had a previous relationship with her, it seemed obvious that the incident in Baltimore was behind her feelings, although at the time we didn’t know about… Kate.” If the prince had been raised with a mother like that, she might have shared Eliza’s hatred of vampires. “We hoped that spending time with someone from her past that had been embraced would help her get over her abhorrence of Kindred. You did well, young Cormac.”
The Kindred bowed slightly to acknowledge the compliment. “Thank you my Prince.”
And speaking of the mother from hell; “Have you had a chance to visit our new guest in the cells?”
He smiled, actually smiled. It was the first time Elvira had ever seen him do it, and it surprised her. He was a fairly attractive young man. “Not yet my Prince, but I would like to spend a few moments with her.” There was a hint of anticipation in his tone. “If I may of course. Has she been co-operative?”
“We are working on getting information out of her, but it is difficult.” Damned difficult, more so than it should have been. “And you understand that we are limited in asking about certain time periods in her life, those specifically surrounding the mole. Perhaps you could visit her when your duties permit it. As you already know much of her history, you don't have as many boundaries as we do.” Elvira didn’t honestly think that he would be able to get anything out of the woman when Ford couldn’t, but if there was a chance, they had to take it.
“Of course my Prince, it would be my pleasure to serve in that manner,” he said respectfully. He paused and she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “Perhaps it would be easier to extract info if the clan were to renegotiate the contract with the mole,” he suggested, then quickly added, “as Kate is the witness to it's signing, and she is no longer an upstanding member of House and Clan Tremere.”
Sly boy, she thought to herself. It was true then that they had meant a lot to each other twenty years ago. She would have to tell Ford that he had indeed been correct. Cormac’s second night in the city and under restrictions because of his borderline insolence to the regent and he still has the balls to suggest the renegotiation of a contract he hadn’t even been aware of three weeks ago. Was Ford also correct about how he would want to renegotiate that contract?
“What type of renegotiation?” she asked thoughtfully.
“It is to my understanding that the contract has been in place for some time,” he replied. “Surely it is only a matter of time before someone notices that the mole has not aged. Perhaps we could institute a new mole in the Society and bring Eliza into a more direct service of the clan.”
Logic may yet win the day, young Cormac, she thought to herself. It was interesting how his thought processes and hers were running parallel on this particular subject.
“What type of service did you have in mind?” she asked, looking again into his aura.
He was conservative and calm, as he usually was, but there was sadness and love in his aura as well. If it weren’t for the black streaks it would be easy to dismiss this Kindred as harmless. Still, from what Brenda and a few others had told her, Elvira knew that Cormac was more than capable of making cold-blooded decisions and actions in the heat of battle.
“Well my Prince,” he began slowly, “given her particular skills, something in clan enforcement. Perhaps she could be assigned under a more proven clan member, who could monitor her.”
She wondered if he had someone specific in mind, someone like himself. If he cared so much about Eliza, he wouldn’t like the thought of her being under the ‘supervision’ of someone else. Feeding from and giving blood to the mole would fall in that category, along with whatever else the domitor required.
“Perhaps someone like Micky or Zane?” she suggested, watching his aura for a reaction. She noted his response to Zane’s name and wondered why no one seemed to like the boy. Not that it mattered; he was hers to do with what she pleased, just as Micky had once been.
“Well, my Prince, I am sure you will choose wisely, but if I may make a suggestion?” When she nodded, he continued. “Perhaps Mickey might be a better choice. I know the mole has had favorable contact with him, and given that Sarah was a mole as well, he has more experience with former moles.”
“Perhaps.” It was good to see that Cormac was trying to act in the clan’s interests, no matter how he felt about the girl. “Still, I can't help but have my reservations about this, young Cormac. She has been known to be quite aggressive to Kindred, specifically her previous contacts.” The simple truth was that she’d staked nearly every contact she’d had in the last ten years, including her own mother. “I'm not sure I'd want to expose either of my childer to that. How could we be sure that she would behave in the clan's best interest?”
“I believe I may be able to keep her better behaved,” he told her. “You said yourself, my prince, after all that she seemed better behaved after we returned.”
That was true enough. When the girl had come to see the prince, she’d held her temper and her tongue even when Elvira had tried to provoke her. The change in her had impressed the prince a great deal.
“What kind of guarantee could you give me?” she asked Cormac thoughtfully. “You don't think she would prove a… distraction to you given your past? I only ask this because I see that you have acquired a new piece of jewelry.” Elvira gestured toward the ring on his hand. It wouldn’t do for Cormac to place his trust in the girl and have her stake them all out for sunrise.
“I would stake my life in place of Lord Radek’s if it would ease your suspicions, my prince,” he assured her. “Eliza has not distracted me, quite the opposite. Knowing there was someone watching my back that cared as much for me as I did for them helps to focus the mind.”
Yes, she could see where that would be so. Still, staking his life in place of Ford’s was quite a claim. “You certainly have confidence in your ability to control her.” She steepled her hands and rested her fingers against her lower lip while looking at him thoughtfully. “This is something that must be thought about carefully,” she murmured, almost as if to herself. It was a tactic Ford had suggested to see if Cormac would have any reaction to what she was about to say.
“We do have another mole in place,” the prince continued softly, “but it remains to be seen how effective she will be. And Eliza's new attitude may not be a permanent one; your word alone may not prove enough to keep her in line. Of course a blood bond may be what is needed here,” she said as if she hadn’t thought of it weeks ago. She appeared to focus on Cormac again, although in reality he had never lost her attention. “I will have to speak to Ford about this, he is the guarantor of the contract. I'll let you know what we decide.”
“Of course my prince, at your convenience of course,” he replied respectfully. “Was there anything else my prince wished to speak with me on?”
Very good, she thought smugly, not even a hint of impatience. Either he agreed with her completely about ghouling the mole or he was an excellent actor. Given what she’d seen of him, she didn’t think it was the later. “I don’t think so, young Cormac,” she told him. “I know you have a lot of things to keep you busy right now. If you need any help with that path, you might want to speak to Zora, she and Dougal had many conversations about Thaumaturgical theory.”
“Very well,” he agreed. “Thank you my Prince, have a pleasant evening.” When she told him good night, he turned and left the sitting room.
Elvira sat there for a long moment, staring after him. From what she could tell, he was still committed to the clan, even though he obviously loved the mole. It didn’t appear that his love for her would interfere with his clan duties.
Behind the prince a panel in the wall opened and her sire, Ford Radek, stepped through. He came over to stand beside her chair and laid a hand on her shoulder, bringing her out of her reverie.
“It appears that young Cormac is still loyal to the clan,” he said softly.
“Yes, it does,” she agreed thoughtfully.
“What is it?” Ford asked. “Does his love for the girl concern you?”
She nodded. “What will happen if she dies in performance of her contract?” she asked sadly. “Do you not think that he will blame that contract for her death, and you for signing it?”
“That is a chance we have to take,” he replied calmly. “She is a skilled warrior, it is unlikely that she’ll be killed any time soon. Unless you’ve changed your mind and decided to cancel him?”
“No,” she said firmly. She knew quite well Ford’s opinion on that topic and that it matched her own. “As we believed, loyalty to the clan is strong in him. However, you were correct in believing that his love for the girl would lead him to wanting the contract destroyed.”
Ford chuckled. “Yes, he fell into that one quite nicely. I wonder how long we should make him wait before we put him out of his misery.”
“I think we should let him bring it up again,” she murmured. “He didn’t seem concerned about Micky taking control of the girl.”
“Yes, I have to say that your choice of options was brilliant,” he told her. “Micky has only been Tremere half as long as Cormac, and Zane…. As you know my dear, Zane is not like well liked in our fair city.”
“I’m sure that part of that is due to the fact the he was a hunter, my lord,” she replied a little defensively. There were times that Zane irritated her as well, but he was her childe. She kept him close to her for more reasons than his physical beauty and stamina when they were alone. “Perhaps we should think of completing the bond he has to the clan,” she murmured.
“I don’t think that would help his winning personality,” Ford told her dryly. “It is certain that he will not respond well to Eliza when we bring her into the chantry. It is possible that Cormac will have to give him a lesson along the lines of the one Micky gave him a few years ago.”
Because Zane had attacked his ghoul, Micky had shot the ex-hunter several times, beaten him, staked him with a mop handle and broken one of his arms, not necessarily in that order. Ford had broken his other arm when Zane had tried to touch Elvira without permission. The incident had given the clan leaders in the city an excuse to give him a second drink of the council of seven’s blood, which brought Zane dangerously close to a full blood bond to the entire Tremere clan.
“Perhaps,” Elvira agreed.
“You have decided then?” he asked. “We allow him to renegotiate?”
She smiled and looked up at him for the first time. “You were right, sire. Allowing him to ghoul her will strengthen both of their ties to the clan. But some day you will have to tell me why you have such an interest in the girl.”
“Joyous rage, my dear,” he told her with a mischievous smile. “It is very rare in today’s world.”
“You’ve been reading the Angelina Codex again, haven’t you?” she asked, intrigued.
“Yes,” he murmured. “It is quite an interesting text on modern prophets. Perhaps you should read it some time.”
She laughed, a low gentle sound that made Ford feel good inside. “If I believed in destiny, my lord, I would read it. Since I do not, I rely on you to tell me what you think applies to my city.”
“There is something about the girl,” Ford said seriously. “I haven’t quite discerned what it is, but I am working on it. If we only we had a clue to who the new prophet was.”
“Are you sure she’s supposed to be here?” the prince asked.
“I’m sure,” he told her. “According to the signs she was supposed to have awakened the night we defeated the Sabbat. She is in Salem; the only question now is where. If those fools hadn’t killed Abrianna Landry so quickly, she might have told us more details.”
“It’s been almost thirty years, sire,” she reminded him. “Surely you can’t mean to carry the grudge forever.”
He smiled grimly. “Why not? Her son certainly has.”
“Yes, I wish there were something we could do about him,” she said thoughtfully. Still, that’s was Faith’s concern, not hers. “Will you walk with me upstairs?” she asked her sire. “I have the Montgomery Treatise ready for you to look over.”
“Of course, my dear.” He helped her to her feet and led her toward the passageway he’d entered the room through.