Borne in Blood (Saint-Germain #20) 8

A small group of musicians had assembled in the Great Hall at Ravensberg and were setting up their instruments and music stands on the low platform at the far end of the room. Von Ravensberg stood in the archway between the dining room and the Great Hall, watching the men jockey their chairs and stands into position while three servants wrestled a log into the cavernous fireplace, placing it atop a nest of kindling; beside him Ragoczy took stock of the excitement around them, noting how the whole of the Schloss thrummed with activity in anticipation of this culmination of four days' festivities.

"Seven guests still haven't arrived," von Ravensberg said unhappily.

"They may still do so. It is five hours until your banquet and eight hours until the ball." Ragoczy watched one angular fellow with a flute try to place his sheet music on the stand without tipping it off the edge of the platform. "This being the apogee of your celebration of your ward's betrothal, allowance must be made. You have thirty-five guests in the Schloss already, not an inconsiderable number, considering everything."

"I know Hyacinthie was hoping for more, but I told her she cannot expect to assemble a hundred suitable guests here at Ravensberg: there isn't room enough, and unlike the cities, we must keep ourselves to those of suitable rank and importance, whose numbers are not so great as those that might be found even in Salzburg." Von Ravensberg offered a reminiscent smile. "She was such a lovely, biddable child, so sweet; always looking for ways to please me. But now she is a demanding young woman, eager to work her will on men."

"I am sure you have done the best you can in arranging the ball," said Ragoczy out of courtesy.

"Actually, Herr Lowengard, my man-of-business, has managed all of this, in terms of invitations and such-engaging the musicians, hiring extra servants and such. He is a reliable man who understands how things must function in this world; I leave most of the workaday matters to him."

"No doubt you approved the guest list," said Ragoczy, his irony all but undetectable.

"That I did. All but four of those invited pledged to be here, at least for the banquet and ball," said von Ravensberg. "Your companion, Madame von Scharffensee, got here three days ago, in good time, and coming a considerable distance. I am concerned that others have not been so punctilious."

"Madame von Scharffensee was fortunate; she arrived shortly before the rain." Ragoczy motioned toward the windows, where drops shone in the sporadic mid-day sunshine. "The roads may be too muddy for travel."

"Possibly," said von Ravensberg, unconvinced. "If this ball is not a success, it may blight the occasion for Hyacinthie. I would not want her to be disappointed." He turned away, and when he spoke again his tone had changed. "I have prevailed upon six of my guests to allow me to draw their blood, to continue the work described in my book. Would you consider adding to their number?"

Ragoczy hesitated. "I am not of Austrian or German blood," he said at last.

"You said you were of Hungarian ancestry," said von Ravensberg.

"Yes; of an ancient Carpathian House," Ragoczy said, revealing none of the consternation he felt. "We were strong in the eastern mountains well before the Saxons came." He might have added the Romans, but decided not to.

"I see," said von Ravensberg. "Well, then, would you want to watch my procedure?" He attempted a smile. "I am glad that you appreciate my restricted population for study. I am grateful to you for your candor in that regard. Research can be so easily distorted by failures to observe the proper parameters. Many another might have made an effort to conceal his antecedents in order to be included in my efforts."

"That is one of the reasons I thought it best to mention this to you," said Ragoczy. He glanced toward the windows again. "Your staff is still waiting for today's arrivals, are they not?"

"I have ordered those who can to watch the approach and to make every effort to admit the late-comers to the Schloss. I want the gates to stay open until we have sat down to our banquet." Von Ravensberg's attention was commanded by the leader of the musicians. "Yes, Maestro. What is it?"

The musician stood up, his violin and bow in hand. "Is there a keyboard instrument in the Schloss, Graf?" he asked. "When we made arrangements for this ball, your man of business said there would be one available."

"There is a clavier in the music-room on the floor above. Do you require it for this evening or for practice now?"

"If you could arrange to bring it down and have it tuned ..." The musician managed to look disquieted while doing his utmost to conduct himself properly.

"I will deal with the clavier while the guests are resting," said Ragoczy. "And I will tune it."

The lead musician favored him with a thoughtful look. "You have some knowledge of the instrument, perhaps?"

"I do," said Ragoczy. "I collect instruments, and can play some of them tolerably well."

"Um," said the musician, not wanting to offend any of the Graf's guests.

"If you would like, I might play some dance melodies while you and your companions have your twenty minutes to eat," Ragoczy offered, and saw von Ravensberg stare in astonishment. "It would allow those who wish to continue dancing to do so." He did not add that it would account for his absence at the midnight supper. "I know the works of Mozart and Rossini, and Schubert as well. I will not abash you, or our host."

Saying nothing to Ragoczy's offer, von Ravensberg raised his voice. "Do not trouble yourself, Comte; I'll order the servants to bring the clavier down. It may take an hour or so." He gave a hard, disapproving look at the servants who had finished at the fireplace and were now lowering the first of three large chandeliers in order to put new candles in place. "Be careful there."

"Yes, Graf," said the senior of the three, and added some orders in an undervoice to his comrades.

Von Ravensberg touched Ragoczy's sleeve. "The days have got away from us, I fear. I was hoping we might have an opportunity to discuss my book before you depart. Are you willing?"

"Certainly," said Ragoczy, trying to discern von Ravensberg's reason for this invitation.

"Then you may want to acquaint yourself with my preferred methods. I am going to prepare my laboratory. If you would like to join me there in half an hour?"

"Half an hour it is," said Ragoczy, who was curious about the methods von Ravensberg employed. "On the upper floor of the new wing?"

"Exactly," said the Graf as he walked out of the Great Hall without so much as a last look around.

Ragoczy would have liked to talk with the musicians but knew this was an inconvenient time, and so went up to the Rose Room, where he discovered Rogier in front of a standing tray busily cutting up some collops of raw veal and setting them on a plate.

"My master," he said, continuing with the last preparations for his meal. "I have Herr Schillnagel's man in my room, and I did not want to explain to him about my appetite; he might be taken aback."

"Herr Schillnagel arrived this morning with his sister? The tall man with the wide mustache?" Of the eight guests who had come since early morning, Ragoczy had yet to be introduced to six of them.

"That is the man. All body-servants are sharing rooms for tonight. I thought it best to eat in here, where Neuntefeld cannot see me." He kept on, wielding the knife expertly. "The meat is very fresh."

"As I can see. It looks quite delicious," said Ragoczy.

"You would never eat this," Rogier chuckled.

"Just because I do not eat does not mean I cannot appreciate good cuts of meat, or fresh vegetables, for that matter." Ragoczy stretched, still favoring his right shoulder. "I am bidden to our host's laboratory to see him draw blood."

"Do you want to see it?"

"I cannot decide, but it is likely that my curiosity will prevail, and I will observe him." He walked down the room and came back. "I have seen enough anatomy classes to have banished any thrill in watching more, but I cannot help but be inquisitive-how he goes about his study, and how he arrives at his conclusions. I am a bit surprised that he waited until this occasion to ask me. Or perhaps he was making up his mind if he should even make such an offer; he must be convinced that I will not abuse his hospitality by claiming his study for my own."

Rogier smiled sternly. "If he knew of your-"

"I am thankful he does not," Ragoczy said, cutting Rogier short as he stopped near the fireplace. "His book is not very specific about his methods, for fear of others ... shall we say, purloining? ... them for their own uses." He sat down in the high-backed easy-chair that was tantalizingly close.

"He's not worried that you'll purloin them?" Rogier asked.

"Apparently not. He is aware that I am involved with Eclipse Press. I assume he wants to establish the authenticity of his techniques, or something of the sort." He shifted forward in the chair, elbows on knees. "Is Hero about?"

"I haven't seen her." Rogier had rarely known Ragoczy to be so restive when there was so little apparent cause for him to be.

"For how long?" Ragoczy inquired; aside from one frantically rapturous night together after her arrival, she had made a point of staying away from him so as not to compromise either of them in the eyes of von Ravensberg's guests.

Rogier considered. "About an hour and a half ago. She was on her way down from her room."

"How was she?" Ragoczy asked.

"She said she had a headache, but it wasn't sufficient to keep her in her bed," Rogier said, watching Ragoczy while he went on, "She breakfasted with the other ladies about two hours ago in the morning room, and said that she was going with them all on a tour of the old wing, since the carriage-ride through the country wouldn't be pleasant in the rain. I understand there are some interesting features in the old wing." Satisfied with his labors, Rogier took his plate and went to the window-seat to dine.

"I see," said Ragoczy, a frown deepening between his brows.

"I think she is still tired from her journey," said Rogier.

"It has been a hard time for her," Ragoczy conceded.

"She said she would take a rest before dressing for the ball," Rogier added helpfully. "When the tour is over. Hyacinthie is eager to show them as much as possible."

"Hyacinthie is giving the tour?" Ragoczy put his fingertips together. "Not the steward or Herr Lowengard?"

"Hyacinthie: enthusiastically. She knows the Schloss better than anyone, from what Madame von Scharffensee described. The staff said she has explored every building on the whole of the estate." Rogier shook his head. "If you like, I will check on Madame von Scharffensee when she returns for her nap."

"If you would; thank you," said Ragoczy, dismissing the unfamiliar twinge of apprehension that went through him. "I believe most of the guests are planning to rest this afternoon."

"So they can dance until after midnight; the banquet and midnight supper should give them strength for the evening," said Rogier. "This is quite a grand occasion for Ravensberg, I gather. The staff tells me that the Graf rarely entertains, and not on this scale. Fortelle, the senior footman, has been in service here for eighteen years and can't remember another occasion like this one. They're all a bit overwhelmed."

"And with one of his two new wards still missing, I would imagine some of the staff would feel this is an inappropriate celebration, one that ought to have been postponed; the house is not officially in mourning, but it is far from being filled with delight," said Ragoczy as he shoved himself out of the easy-chair.

"A few do think that; Fortelle thinks they should all be in half-mourning until Rosalie's fate is known," said Rogier. "Two or three of them express worry about the remaining child-Hedda. They say she is very down-cast and silent. Hardly surprising: losing her parents and her sister all in the same year-" He set his fork down and opened his hand to show his emotion.

"Von Ravensberg says he wants to ease her grief," Ragoczy mused, a distant concentration in his gaze. "I believe it is generally understood that Hyacinthie resents his attention to the children."

"She is hardly more than a child herself, and about to marry a man not of her choosing. It is hardly surprising that she might feel put-upon," said Rogier.

Ragoczy shook his head slowly. "There is something more."

"How do you mean?" Rogier asked.

"It is little more than a sensation, like a cold breeze on the neck." He came toward the window-seat. "The rain seems to be clearing."

"The roads will still be muddy," said Rogier. When Ragoczy remained silent, he went on, "Werther, the under-cook, says that Hedda has been weeping every night, and that Hyacinthie becomes angry because of it." He ate more of his veal. "What do you make of the bridegroom?"

"I would not have thought him a good mate for Hyacinthie," said Ragoczy. "But my opinion has not been sought."

Rogier shook his head. "She has her sights set higher."

Ragoczy understood the implication, and said, "Oh, no. I am not what she longs for, no matter what her hopes may be. She would be appalled if she knew anything of my true nature."

"You think so? Her maid, Idune, says that since you have come, Hyacinthie talks of no one else. Most of the staff find her infatuation diverting." He forked another small wedge of veal. "I only mention this so that you can take care. That young woman is determined to get what she wants."

"This is her betrothal celebration. I doubt she would be so lax as to embarrass her uncle and her fiance at this moment." As he spoke, Ragoczy held up his hand. "Now that I am warned, I do understand the problem, and I will be on guard. I will have no hint of impropriety in my dealing with her."

"I trust your discretion," said Rogier, and finished his veal.

"You know me too well, old friend," said Ragoczy as he came back from the windows.

"Keep what I've told you in mind, my master. That child is inclined to follow her own desires. All the servants say so." Rogier carried his plate back to the tray, then went to the traveling chest to pull out Ragoczy's formal clothes for the evening, and to find something appropriate for him to wear for the rest of the day.

Before seeking out von Ravenberg's laboratory, Ragoczy donned a smock of black Egyptian linen to protect his clothes. With the help of a footman, Ragoczy quickly made his way to the staircase that led to it; he knocked on the door and waited to be admitted.

"Come in, Comte. Come in and be welcome. You know Baron Weidekraft, of course." He pointed out the well-dressed stocky man seated on the chaise longue. "He is to be the first today."

"Comte," said Weidekraft.

"Baron," he responded.

Von Ravensberg held out his syringe, turning it in his hand so that the glass tube caught the light. "This is the instrument I shall use. As you can tell, the glass body will allow me to gauge how much blood I have taken, so as not to drain you too much, Baron." He managed a single, uneasy laugh. "With such a night as we have ahead of us, you will want to have all your stamina, won't you?"

Baron Weidekraft had removed his coat and the cuff on his right sleeve and was in the process of rolling it up. "You said above the elbow?"

"If you would," said von Ravensberg. He turned to Ragoczy. "I believe the vein in the bend of the elbow gives much the best results."

"You may be right," said Ragoczy, trying to gauge the amount of blood von Ravensberg might want.

As if anticipating Ragoczy's question, von Ravensberg said, "I will use the blood the Baron provides to perform a number of tests. The most important is running a current of electricity through the blood. There is much to be learned from that procedure; my work is a beginning, but there is so much more to accomplish. I believe it may be possible, in time, to use electricity to reanimate those newly dead. Others have had some interesting results from similar experiments on the bodies of the recently deceased that-"

"Graf," said Baron Weidekraft. "If you don't mind?"

Von Ravensberg looked askance. "I am sorry, my dear Baron. I did not mean to offend you in any way." He took an iodine swab and rubbed it on the bend in Baron Weidekraft's elbow. "To promote healing," he explained, then brought the syringe around so that its hollow needle was directly aimed at the vein. "If you will close your fist? I will not have to poke so hard if you will tighten your hand."

Baron Weidekraft obliged, watching the needle as it neared the vein. He let out a yelp as von Ravensberg slid the point into his skin and set it in the vein. Almost at once, blood welled in the syringe; von Ravensberg withdrew the small plunger, increasing the flow of the blood. The Baron turned pale as he saw the syringe filling steadily. "What are you doing, Graf?"

"Taking the sample," said von Ravensberg with a kind of dreamy excitement. "This will be a wonderful contribution. I can see the quality of your blood already. My tests will only confirm what I am certain I observe." He had taken enough to fill a soup-ladle and showed no inclination to stop. "If you feel light-headed, lie back and close your eyes. I will shortly be done."

Ragoczy could see that there would be a large bruise in the crook of the Baron's arm, but did not mention this. "How much more will you need?"

"Not much. Do you see this line on the syringe?" He moved his finger so that Ragoczy could make out the precise black line. "I used to take somewhat less, but then I would often run out of the sample before I had run all my tests, which was most inconvenient. This provides ample for my purposes."

"My physician bled me but two weeks since," said Weidekraft.

"A sound practice," von Ravensberg approved. "More men should do so. There would be less epidemic disease if all men were bled regularly."

Ragoczy knew he was expected to agree, but could not, so he said, "Many patients cannot tolerate frequent blood-letting."

"The weak ones," said von Ravensberg in dismissal; he was satisfied with the amount of blood in the syringe at last. He looked down at Weidekraft. "I am almost done. I have made this as quick as possible, Baron."

"Danke," said Weidekraft, sounding a little tired.

"I will withdraw the needle. I want you to put your handkerchief to the puncture to stop any secondary bleeding. In a moment I will send you on your way." He removed the needle from the Baron's arm and held the contents up to the light. "Such a dark color. Very deep and rich." He nudged Ragoczy with his elbow. "What do you think? Do you know anything about blood, Comte?"

"I have some knowledge of it, yes," said Ragoczy, keeping to himself the opinion that Baron Weidekraft might be in danger of developing a spasm of the lungs.

"Then let me show you what I am doing to unlock its secrets," he said, moving off toward his work-bench. As an afterthought, he said over his shoulder. "Sit up slowly, Baron. When your dizziness fades, you may go, with my thanks."

Baron Weidekraft mumbled something, but levered himself upright on the chaise and sat for a time as if lost in thought; he hardly listened to his host's eager explanation to Ragoczy while he hurried about his work-bench. After a few minutes he checked his handkerchief and rolled down his sleeve but did not bother to retrieve his cuff. Finally he was able to rise and toddle to the door, letting himself out without disturbing von Ravensberg.

Ragoczy had watched the Baron depart out of the tail of his eye, and thought that the man would surely need to rest before the evening's festivities. He interrupted von Ravensberg apologetically. "My dear Graf, I am most gratified to see your extensive tests you perform in your studies. I am deeply impressed. But let me recommend that you test no more subjects today, or you will have guests unable to enjoy your banquet and ball later."

It took von Ravensberg almost ten seconds to realize what Ragoczy was saying to him. "I take your point. You are right, Comte: as you and I are of approximately equal rank, I take no offense in this interjection. Yes, you are right-I have been letting my discipline supercede my obligations as a host." He looked at the small glass tube of blood with the electrical connections attached to both ends. "I will complete this before the blood starts to coagulate, and then I will tend to the gala we will enjoy tonight."

"Then I ask you to excuse me now," Ragoczy said with a slight bow. "I have learned much, and I will devote some cogitation to your techniques." He started toward the door only to be halted by von Ravensberg's comment. "I am glad your good friend Madame von Scharffensee is with you now. My niece can be such a fool."

Text of a letter from Klasse van der Boom in Amsterdam, to Saint-Germain Ragoczy, Comte Franciscus at Chateau Ragoczy near Lake Geneva, Yvoire, Swiss France; carried by private courier and delivered twenty-one days after being written.

To the most excellent Comte Franciscus, the greetings of Klasse van der Boom in Amsterdam on this, the 3rdday of April, 1818

My dear Comte,

I have sent a request to Professor Olav Pedersen of the University of Uppsala, requesting that he prepare for Eclipse Press a history of the reign of Charles XIII, whose death in February must have a great impact on all of northern Europe, particularly since his successor was at one time Napoleon's general. Jean Baptiste Bernadotte may be recognized as Swedish for the sake of the Crown, but he is still a Frenchman, for all that. As soon as I have an answer from Professor Pedersen, I will inform you of his decision. It would be a real accomplishment to have such a publication available in the next eighteen months. I know that is an unrealistic dream-the book has yet to be written and we cannot drop all other projects for this one-but I believe that such a history will be eagerly sought, and not only by universities, but by learned men, politicians, and others. I apologize for acting without consulting you on so ambitious a project, but I am convinced that in this case time is of the essence. I hope you will agree with me, and will not withhold the necessary funds for this book.

I am also in receipt of a most intriguing manuscript by a Harold Woodham, a Canadian who has been traveling in America along the frontier west of the Mississippi River for three years and has made his journals of that time into a book of great interest. The actual grammar and spelling are not good, or so James Pomeroy tells me, but such things can be fixed, and I have turned that task over to Pomeroy. I have found, as you suggested I would, that Pomeroy is a most useful addition to our staff here: his skills in his own English language as well as his abilities as a translator in Greek, Russian, and Czech have proven their worth many times over. As soon as his year of probation is complete, I would recommend his engagement without hesitation. In fact, we will be hard-put to fulfill our publishing schedule for 1819 without him. The work that Woodham has submitted, in Pomeroy's capable hands, will undoubtedly be improved. Lives and Customs among the Peoples of the American Plains has references to native groups about whom little or nothing has been published before-or certainly not in Europe.

Another interesting manuscript I have received and about which I am undecided is from Padre Diego Reyes, a Jesuit serving at Santa Maria en Cielo in Zaragoza, called A History of the Inquisition in Spain. Since that body is still nominally functioning, publishing the work could be construed as an assault on the Church itself, and that could be to our disadvantage. The manuscript is of a reasonable and pious tone, more inclined to support the Inquisition in all but its most flagrant excesses, but it does discuss a few of the questionable practices of the past, actions that cast the Inquisition in a more questionable light than the Church has endorsed. While I am convinced that the book has merit, I am not persuaded that it is a good project for Eclipse Press. Would you be offended if I suggested to the Padre that he submit it to another publisher, perhaps Neu Geschichte in Lubeck? It is far more along their lines than ours, and I do think it is worthy of publication. If you do not object, I will return the manuscript with a letter that Padre Reyes can use when sending the manuscripts to other publishers, Neu Geschichte in particular.

I am in the process of compiling our schedule for the second half of next year. As soon as I have completed it, I will dispatch it to you with all haste, and I will be glad of your comments on any aspect of the schedule you wish to make. Our sales continue to increase, not as rapidly as I would like, but steadily, and the numbers of copies ordered also increases. If our fortunes continue to improve, in another two years we will be able to expand our program once again, and undertake to reach a much wider readership than is presently the case.

In anticipation of that happy day, I am

At your service,

Klasse van der Boom

printer and publisher

Eclipse Press

Amsterdam