Free The Geomancer by Clay Griffith Page B

saw the problem with our kind. And you acted.”
    â€œI did?” Gareth sat forward. “What did I do?”
    â€œYou destroyed your clan.” Kasteel’s eyes shone with messianic fervor. “You raised the Death Bringer and used her like claws to tear Cesare from the Earth.”
    Gareth steadied himself against a sudden rush of anger. Somehow he managed to speak in an even tone. “You find that admirable, do you?”
    â€œNot admirable but necessary. The clans must fall. We must return to the dark. As you teach.”
    â€œI’ve never taught you anything,” Gareth spat. “Are you mad?”
    Kasteel lowered his eyes at the rebuke. “We know of you through your works. We know something of your mind, granted only the glittering tip, from he who was at your side over the years.”
    â€œBaudoin,” Adele breathed, staring at Kasteel. “He looks like Baudoin. He could be his son.”
    Gareth saw it too now. That was the flash of recognition he’d experienced when he first saw the young vampire. Baudoin had come to Britain in service to Gareth’s father, King Dmitri, and had become Gareth’s servant. In the end, he had become less of a devoted manservant and more one of Gareth’s most trusted and valued friends. His loss still cut deep. Baudoin had been slaughtered by Flay during his final act of saving Gareth. “Baudoin had no offspring. He raised Cesare and I as if we were his children.”
    â€œBaudoin was not my father,” Kasteel said. “My father was the revered Baudoin’s brother.”
    â€œConrad? You’re Conrad’s son? So you are from the Aachen clan, as Baudoin was?”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œWhere’s your father now?”
    â€œHe is dead. Killed last year fighting the Equatorians near Budapest.”
    Despite himself, Gareth flinched. Both brothers had died the same year. He asked quietly, “So Baudoin talked about me to you?”
    â€œHe rarely spoke of anything but you. He spent most of his days up in Edinburgh at your side, but over the years we saw him a handful of times. Baudoin knew that most of our kind viewed you with scorn. Some believed you were mad, as your father had gone mad.”
    Gareth shifted uncomfortably at the reference to his father, but he stayed quiet.
    Kasteel dared a step closer. “Baudoin loved you like his own son and he defended you against any criticism. He admitted you were different, but he felt that was a trait of strength not frailty. You understood things that no other of our kind did.”
    The memory of watching Baudoin die stung Gareth anew. He had a hard time imagining this ebullient praise from his stodgy old manservant, the one who quarreled with all Gareth did and derided his ridiculous Greyfriar fancies.
    Kasteel looked worried that he wasn’t explaining the doctrine properly. “We believe, as you do, that our kind have grown lazy and wasteful with walking skins full of blood at our fingertips. We must set the humans free and return to the hunt. There is no need to kill to feed. We should leave humans alive, because that grants us a constant meal.”
    â€œThat’s philanthropic,” Adele muttered. “Speaking as a walking skin full of blood.”
    Kasteel paused, fretful he had misinterpreted Gareth’s life lessons. His companions were equally worried, looking among themselves for reassurance. “Those are the lessons of the old days.”
    Gareth found Kasteel’s innocent pleading bothersome. He rose and paced. “How would you know? All of you are too young to remember the times before the Great Killing.”
    Kasteel swept his arm before the tense faces of his companions. “That’s why we need you to help us.”
    â€œAnd is this all of you?” Gareth asked.
    â€œNo,” Kasteel began hesitantly. “There are a few others, but most are . . . resistant to your