Part 31 (1/2)
And at the end, by way of dramatic punctuation, Corsini opened his s.h.i.+rt and displayed the marks of the vampires fangs on his neck and torso. Gasps of shock, as he explained that the scarred flesh around the raised pits of the bite marks were caused when Gonji burned away the Evil, purging the wounds with firebrand and holy water, even as Corsini was himself fighting the samurai off, transforming into one of the undead.
Gonji felt his head swimming with the memories, averting his eyes from the others that sought him out in wonder. He returned the thanks and the toast Corsini tearfully offered him.
”Monsters,” Klank LoPresti grunted. ”People dont believe in em anymore. Only those of us whove lost buona amici-”
Simon Sardonis, seated at the stairs, rose quietly and climbed to the deck, pus.h.i.+ng past Cardenas.
A pall blanketed the crowd, broken by a few whispers.
”You talk too much, LoPresti,” Corsini said.
Gonji pushed up onto his feet and refilled his cup, then another. He moved up the stairs after Simon.
”Seems like a good idea,” Cardenas observed as he pa.s.sed. ”We may need him.”
”He needs us, too,” Gonji said, narrow-eyed, ”whether he wants to accept it or not.”
Gonji found Simon at the prow guardrail.
”Let it drop,” Simon said without looking back at him. ”Im beyond being offended by drunken faux pas.”
”Why dont you rejoin us below, then?” the samurai asked. Simon shook his head to see the extended cup. ”Another hour,” Gonji went on, judging to see the lowering sun, ”and you may need this. Did you ever try a good-”
”When I want your quaint diagnosis of my needs, Ill ask for it,” Simon snapped.
”Speak German, bitte,” Gonji replied. ”Im afraid I didnt understand you-again.” He still held out the cup of rum.
Simon eyed him peevishly, then grabbed the cup out of his hand, slos.h.i.+ng rum over the rail. ”All right, monsieur le samurai, I can play at being-human, just as you sometimes can.” He tipped his head back and slugged at the rum.
”Good,” Gonji said, smiling.
”Lower the dinghy. Its my time.”
The samurai bowed shallowly to him, watching him amble off toward the deck. But stopping on a companionway, Simon turned and cast him a skewed glance.
”Do you think you could...burn me with firebrand and holy water, should the need arise?”
Gonji stared at him evenly. ”Hai.”
Simon rumbled out a low laugh. ”I think youre probably the one who could, if it comes to that.”
”Would that stop you?”
”Nein,” Simon replied. ”I am not a vampire.” He began to climb the creaking steps again, but Gonji halted him.
”Whats on your mind, Simon?”
The accursed warriors face twisted.
”The full of the moon.”
He bounded over a rail and descended to the deck. Gonji called out to the men on duty to lower the dinghy for Simons lonely anguish. Then he saw Ahmed Il-Mohar crouched under the crowned roof of a gun port, tapping the fuse of a cannon with an unlit taper. The dark-skinned Morisco smiled enigmatically and made a small gesture at him.
Gonji abruptly felt uneasy in the way he always did to see Ahmeds complacent smile. He wondered what was on the Moriscos mind.
”What is it?”
The renegade lancer on stern watch shook his head slowly. ”Its very small, whatever it is. Doesnt seem to threaten us. Its just sitting there.”
”Not sitting,” his partner corrected. ”Keeping pace with us.”
”I dont see how,” the lancer replied. ”The sails are furled.”
”How long has it been there?” Gonji asked.
”About an hour.”
”An hour?” Gonji grated. ”Why wasnt I told sooner?”
The lancer shrugged. ”Sergeant Orozco-he said not to awaken you unless we were certain of danger.”
The werewolf growled deep and sonorously in the dinghy below them, drifting to starboard. Gonji peered down. The small boat bobbed like a toy at the end of its long mooring line.
”Was it bad tonight-for him?” the samurai asked earnestly.
”Si, senor, for awhile, I think. Then-he came out from under the canopy-and laughed at me.” The soldiers brow crinkled anxiously as he searched Gonjis eyes.
”Laughed at you?”
Another doglike growl from the boat. Gonji saw a glint of huge fangs as Simon opened his gaping jaws to full extension and hissed up at him in the moons straying rays. A mans head might be bitten off in those jaws, with room to spare.
”Simon,” Gonji whispered, ”are you all right?”
Something gleamed in the werewolfs taloned hand. There was a strident creaking sound as of a metallic vessel being crushed. Then Simon hurled the object up onto the deck.
The second watchman retrieved it: It was the rum goblet, twisted now into formless sc.r.a.p.
Another gurgling half-bark from the dinghy, and one of the men laughed breathily. ”Your friend lobis homem-I think he is drunk, senor!”
”No,” Gonji rasped sharply. ”He had only one cup of-” His attention was drawn to the tiny boat illumined by the cloud-bound glow of the waxing moon.
”Simon,” he called down, pointing out to sea.
The lycanthrope turned slowly to see where Gonji indicated, and it seemed to the samurai that his grotesque friend sported what could only be described as a canine grin. Simon crawled to one side of the dinghy as he peered at the small shape. The dinghy listed to starboard such that the watchers aboard the galley thought it would capsize. Then- Simon drew back, his wolfs head and humanoid shoulders striving up toward the sky as he howled at the moon. His keening note diminished to a long-drawn baying.
”Jesus-Maria-”
Much of the crew was awakened, pounding feet clattering on deck in response. Some of the rudely startled women in the stern cabin began to scream hysterically despite Valentinas efforts at calming them. Half of them moved below decks, refusing to sleep so near the werewolfs nocturnal station again.