The Vanished Ones
It's not easy being a lycanthrope, especially if you want to do more with your life than rip apart red-blooded creatures. I've told you already how I got the bitter venom of lycanthropy in my system, how the blood of the creature I slew dripped into my eyes and polluted my bloodstream, turning me into a beast during every full moon or when I become enraged.
A damnable situation, particularly for one like me, Ivan Dragonov, who has dedicated his life to fighting evil in all its dreadful forms. Now here am I, a creature of evil myself — or potential evil. I'll let you be the judge of that.
My first inclination as I left the chilly domain of Lamordia was to visit the one man I knew who could possibly release me from the curse. Well you know of Hamer, priest of Stangengrad. I was weary from battling Victor Mordenheim's monster — blast both their dark souls — and another flesh golem, from whose master's tomb I stole weapons and coin.
But then the thought occurred to me that a lycanthrope could be a ferocious enemy to evil, even more so than a strong warrior, such as I had been. So I postponed my visit to Stangengrad and, instead, continued my crusade, seeking out villainy in all its forms in order to destroy it.
I learned to deal with my disorder in the weeks that followed. I sought out deep caves during the full moon, and when I could no longer find any, had a ropemaker weave me a rope with silver strands woven through the jute. I wind myself up in it before nightfall, and tie knots that my lycanthropic side cannot undo. Those nights are filled with terrible pain, but they keep me from killing.
I also have to avoid traveling in any party, for if it were attacked and I changed into a beast, I might not stop at destroying our enemy, but might savage my companions as well.
So I've traveled alone, and I've come across my share of evil creatures. With every battle, the werebeast within me has come out and triumphed, far more easily than I would have if fighting as a mortal man.
I was in Lekar when I heard rumors of an evil that the soldiery had not been able to deal with in the town of Chateaufaux. So I rode quickly to the domain of Dement lieu. I hoped that I could put aright whatever was amiss before the next full moon.
I arrived in Chateaufaux just before noon, and stopped at a large inn. I ordered a haunch of venison and a mug of tea, at which some of the drunkards made stupid remarks, but my fierce look quickly quieted them. Before too long I fell into conversation with a pair of soldiers. When I told them my name, I learned that they had heard of me, and they eyed me with more respect than before.
When I remarked that rumors had spread of doings darker than usual in their city, one of the soldiers, a stout, honest-looking fellow named Jacques, was quick to give me the details.
'You need not tell us, Monsieur Dragonov. We've seen comrades, and in my case my brother, disappear.'
'Or we haven't seen them disappear,' said Henri, the other soldier,' but they're gone nonetheless!'
Jacques nodded. 'For the past six months, men of Dementlieu have been vanishing, one every few weeks. The first was a mill owner named St. Just. Three weeks later a cobbler who left behind a beautiful wife and two children. Then a blacksmith, a tailor's apprentice, and a merchant who was also a member of the town council.'
'That got some action, that did,' Henri added. 'Town council came to the army then, sure enough.'
'Asked us to solve the mystery,' said Jacques. 'And a mystery it was.'
I didn't get the point. 'But men run off all the time,' I said. 'Women, money problems, wanderlust — a whole slew of reasons.'
Jacques's face grew rigid then. 'Are you saying my brother would desert?'
One thing I didn't need was a brawl in an inn; it's not a good place to turn into a werebeast. 'No, by the gods, of course not. But what about these other men? '
'They vanished without taking along a thing, and the horses were always found of the ones who rode away,' said Jacques, apparently pacified. 'None of the men owed anyone money, and each man already had a wife or sweetheart whom he loved, except for my brother.'
'And,' said the slightly drunk Henri,' do you think any man in his right mind would leave a woman such as that?' He pointed toward the door, which had just opened.
You know that I'm not the kind of man whose heart beats faster at the sight of a female. Never had time for them, battling evil for most of my life. But when I saw this creature walk into the inn, my jaw swung down, my eyes got wide, and I thought every woman I'd ever seen before didn't deserve the name.
This was a woman; no doubt about it. Hair red as flame, falling down the back all the way to her. . well, pretty long hair anyway. A face like an angel's, with cheeks red as the rose and eyes so deep you wanted to fall into them and never come up. She was dressed modestly, but it was hard for even the heaviest cloth to disguise the lushness of her figure. And I found myself thinking that maybe I'd wasted too much of my life without the companionship of such females, though she was unique.
Then she looked in our direction, called Jacques's name, and came swiftly toward our table. 'Monsieur Legrange,' she said with a voice as sweet as honey,' have you news of my poor husband — or of your unfortunate brother?'
'None, Madame, I regret to say. But pray, allow me to introduce a gentleman who has heard of our plight and whose curiosity has brought him far: Ivan Dragonov. Mister Dragonov, this is Gabrielle Faure, the wife of Roger Faure, who was the first man to vanish.'
She turned those incredible eyes on me then. 'Monsieur,' she said,' your reputation precedes you. 'I saw her gaze run over me, taking in my size, my weapons, my warlike attitude, my hair and beard nearly as flame red as hers; as you know, I present quite an impressive picture, and I felt certain that she was sizing me up as a potential ally. Her next words proved me right.
'Could I beg you, Monsieur, to assist us? I have done little but tremble in fear and worry during the past six months, ever since my dear husband disappeared. I know that he would not have deserted me, and even if my judgment is wrong, he would not have left his thriving business behind. You have in the past exposed many evils and righted many wrongs, Monsieur Dragonov. Will you not have pity on me and on the other poor wives, families, and sweethearts who have been left lonely and distraught by these disappearances?'
Well, I mean, what was there to say? How could I refuse such a beautifully phrased — and flattering — entreaty? So I gave a little bow, feeling silly as I did it, and said I'd be happy to do whatever I could to help find her husband.
We were all colleagues then, and I think Jacques was also pleased that I would be trying to help find his brother as well. The four of us sat there for nearly an hour. Gabrielle and I drank tea, Jacques nursed a glass of wine, and Henri fell into a drunken sleep.
Gabrielle told me about her husband's disappearance. She said he had ridden toward town one morning from their country house near the mill, and was not seen again. No one reported meeting him on the road, but many hours after he vanished, a soldier found his horse roaming in the fields halfway between the town and the Faures'home. There was no trace of blood on the saddle, no signs of violence at all.
Then Jacques told me as much as was known about the other missing townspeople. Quite simply, they had gone off on errands at different times of the day and night, and never reappeared. The mounts of those who rode away were always found, but with never a trace of evidence that suggested violence.
'And then they assigned my brother to find the men, or their bodies. . you'll pardon me, Madame. He meticulously interviewed families, friends, fellow workers, but learned little. Then one night he told me he had some new evidence to gather, but would say no more, and rode off. I have not seen him since.'
'But they found his horse?' I guessed.
'They did,' said Jacques. He excused himself then; he had to go back to his barracks.
I felt uncomfortable left alone with Gabrielle. Although my manner is rough, I seldom feel ill at ease with either man or woman; they can take me or leave me as it suits them. But this woman was different, as I say. Beyond doubt I was drawn to her, but she showed no sign that she had conquered me. Instead, she asked me if there was anything she could do to help in my investigation.
