Four: Alice

FOUR:
Alice

The moon had hidden itself behind the clouds, and it seemed determined not to show itself to the elder Redcrest. He walked unsteadily through the streets, barely noticing where he was going. His brain wandered nearly as fiercely as his feet, pacing several times around the block. Somewhere along the way, his sword hand found its way to its home and made the broadsword naked in the dark. A sort of fugue overtook him. Pure instinct and training controlled his arm while his inescapable thoughts controlled his mind; it was a moment of weakness. If any residents of the surrounding buildings glanced out their windows, they'd have thought him mad, meandering through the streets, unconsciously cleaving the air.

The tip of the blade clipped a short stone wall, a few specks of red dust exploding from the impact. Regaining his composure from the shock in his arm, he found himself at the steps of the manor.

A serene and eerily beautiful melody wafted down from the terrace windows and enveloped him. Comforting though it was, it meant yet another order of business he would need to attend to before he would be able to retire. She needed him now. There was nobody left to help her through this. He was not sixteen anymore. He was the patriarch of this family and he was determined to act the part. Ondjage - he had turned the amulet down after their father's death, not wanting the responsibility. It had been with Brother, but it was to be returned to the manor in due time with the rest of his belongings. The young man's sigh cut through the lament as he shook his head somberly and removed his great black hat. With a deliberate effort, he climbed the stairs and placed his hand on the large brass door handles. The music stopped as soon as the knob turned.

The young Redcrest was determined to keep his eyes down as he entered the foyer, determined to keep off the discussion for as long as possible. He knew she was sitting on the foot of the balcony stairs, watching him as he unfastened his cloak and placed it onto its rack along with his hat. Then he simply stood there, staring at the wall and fingering the buttons on his waistcoat. Eventually a soft voice cut through the silence, echoing slightly in the hall.

'Halknid...'

He turned to face her without hesitation. The soft glow of the lamps reflected off her pristine complexion. If ever there was a lady with a picturesque quality, there was Alice. She sat elegantly on the stair, anxiously running her slender fingers along the strings of the viola, the bow grasped loosely in the other. Her gown flowed softly down her figure and continued to traipse across the steps as she lay, her dark hair curtaining her features and dancing across her shoulders. Just as Halknid and their late Brother spat forth the image of their father, there sat Alice, their mother Helena in miniature. But Alice had a worn, silver chain draped around her neck, the image of the wolf's head hanging across her breast - Ondjage.

Alice was as strong in spirit as her brother in body; her weapon of choice: her mother's viola. There had been a period in which a very bored Alice had dragged Brother along the streets to play for passers by. And she was damn good.

Now, the lament that had resonated from her strings told Halknid that Alice had discovered their Brother's fate. She had never been one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but that was not to say that she was without emotion. Halknid had long since learned that the window into her true frame of mind was through her music, and he was greatly saddened by the voice of her instrument.

She and Brother, the two had been particularly close, at least closer than she had been with her elder brother. Now, however, the protective instincts of their father were welling up inside him. He would have liked to say that his vendetta had nothing to do with her, but just the opposite was true. It had everything to do with her. They would not take Alice.

Halknid was very much against the idea of his sister becoming a part of the war. He refused to let her take up any sort of arm after their father's death, so instead her voice had become a weapon in its own right; it was not wise to argue with Alice Redcrest, as Brother had learned on several occasions. She was a gossip as well, though not in the manner of old wives attempting to scandalize the neighbors for their own enjoyment.

Alice was interested in comings and goings in the city. She was knee-deep in the machinations of politicians and history and quite a bit of useful lore, which the brothers often found a good way to pass the time during their adolescence. But old stories of vampires and catacombs seemed more thrilling when there wasn't the very real prospect of encountering them looming in the distance.

Now, all the weight of the terrible events that had transpired since their childhood were nearly crushing his spirit. He imagined that Alice felt even more wounded than he. Halknid sighed heavily, letting his head hang down once more, and he began to take slow, weary steps toward his sister.

'I take it,' he said in a low voice, 'you've heard about Brother.'

Her solemn eyes glanced up into his, and she gave a reluctant nod of assention.

Halknid hesitated for a moment, but then continued to walk toward her. He spoke kindly, 'I'm sorry, Alice. I don't pretend to understand how much this must be affecting you. But I think what we, the two of us, could use is a good night's rest.'

He had now reached the foot of the stair, and, giving his sister a sympathetic attempt at a smile, he held out his hand to her.

'Please, Alice. You'll only make things more difficult on yourself if you stay awake all night and pace the halls. Come on, up you get. You and I will talk about this in the morning. I promise.'

Alice did not take his hand, but rather took another dark look into his eyes. His half-smile faded.

'That's not why I'm here,' she said. 'I know what you were doing at the church, Halknid.'

He looked at her incredulously, dreading what she was going to say next. He supposed he should not have been surprised; this was Alice after all.

'Then you must have realized what I intend to do,' he said. 'Warden Mernith has taken the matter into consideration, and he is resolved to give me information and the assistance I need to track down the assassin.'

'I don't like Arden Mernith,' Alice cut in.

'That's irrelevant, Alice. Brother and I have long suspected something amiss about Father's death. It seemed like they singled him out for some reason that we just couldn't see. And now Brother...' he trailed off, staring pensively into space.

'I'm not very fond of this conspiracy theory, Halknid. It just doesn't make sense. I don't like any of this.' She paused for a moment, and neither spoke. Then she added, 'I assume you're already set then. You won't heed anything I have to say on the matter? You're just going to run off for vengeance?'

Halknid rounded on her again and spent a moment staring intently at her, as if studying her. 'I am doing this for you,' he said gravely.

Alice seemed without the energy to argue any further, and she simply lowered her eyes to the viola perched in her lap. Ondjage hung loosely around her fair neck, the wolf staring into his soul.

'I am leaving for Heathrow soon enough, to take care of all this business.' He knelt before her and lifted up the amulet with his fingers. He let it rest upon his open palm and turned his eyes to Alice, trying to catch her gaze. 'You don't want to keep this, Alice, do you?'

Alice cocked her head slightly toward her brother, giving him what he could only assume was the best sardonic expression she could muster. Dropping the bow upon the stair and used her free hand to reach behind her to remove the necklace from her shoulders. 'You know I've never been comfortable with this thing.'

Halknid took the chain and placed it inside his breast pocket. After another hesitation, he spoke again. 'We will bury Brother, you and I, at the church. I know he would have wanted you to be there. In a week's time, I'm going to take you to Maximus and his family. I don't think you should be left alone here with the current state of things.'

Alice simply nodded. Once again, Halknid offered his gloved hand to her, which she grasped, and he lifted her up and into the recesses of sleep, where she could see for one last time the smiling face of her Brother, Leon.