If you want to know what happened last time, read "Part 1" of this narrative. We rejoin the narrative as Ranger and the Lady begin investigating a mysterious castle.
Finding out about Castle Vytautas was easier said than done. The Cluj division’s archives held nothing on the name aside from its ancient dynastic connections with the Duchy of Lithuania. They finally had to go to the local State Archives, and after badgering their way through about ten Soviet officials, they reached some old information about “Castle Vytautas”, buried deep in a musty corner of the Archives.
Castle Vytautas was a half-ruined grand house which belonged to a collateral branch of the Vytautas line; while one branch would birth the man known as Vytautas the Great, another branch established Castle Vytautas under the noble title of Golescu, reigning over the region of Malamures in which the Rodna Mountains were nested. Ranger breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that their quarry lay nowhere near either Wallachia or Transylvania. No train lines ran into the Rodna Mountains themselves, so the two caught multiple trains to the nearest station, enduring several hours of uncomfortable travelling.
When they arrived, it was nearly night, and they had to stay in a local hostelry. While the Lady barely managed to sleep due to a lumpy mattress and fleas, Ranger slept like a child. The next morning, they found a local shop which still stocked cars for hire. They were ancient, over twenty years old, with the fuel consumption of a leaking plane, but it would do. The man hiring out asked an extortionate price for a week’s use, which the Lady provided with barely a murmur and much to the shock of both ranger and the car’s owner. Ranger was sure the price was many times the worth of the car.
They were guided on their journey by the owner of the hostel, who while initially unwilling did eventually tell them that a nearby valley held all that remained the Castle Vytautas. According to him, it was only a single tower with a few walls and half-overgrown foundations, left to rot away long before the abdication of King Michael and the formation of the country’s Socialist Republic two years ago. They also learned that the castle’s Golescu line had died out in the mid-1400s when all male heirs died during the Ottoman incursions.
‘Sounds familiar.’ said the Lady.
‘Guess so.’ said Ranger.
The man struggled not to remember that famous fictional Nightwalker created by a certain Victorian journalist and theatre manager. The Lady also struggled not to mention it, and had to bite her lip to suppress her smile.
The road they travelled was bumpy, but the surrounding scenery – untamed woodland and fields kept trim by herds of goats – did something to relieve the discomfort of a car with very primitive suspension. They went uphill for some miles, they came to the head of a valley cast into shadow by the surrounding hills. Ranger and the Lady looked into its depths, and as the morning sun crept into the sky and truncated the shadows, they saw the slender tip of a tower. Its one adornment was a severely weathered Christian cross.
‘So that’s Castle Vytautas.’ the Lady sounded unimpressed.
‘Yeah. What’d you expect from a ruin?’
‘Who’d make their home in a place like this?’
‘Someone who doesn’t want to be found. Say, a Nightwalker? Come on, we should get down there. If we’re caught in that valley after dark, we’ll be in serious trouble.’
‘Speaking from experience?’
‘Yeah. Something like that. There’s a track over there.’
The Lady looked. The “track” looked like little more than a path worn by the local goats. Her look said everything.
‘If we walk,’ said Ranger. ‘We’ll never make it before nightfall. And since I’m at the wheel, you’ll just have to lump it.’
The Lady lumped it. In fact, she lumped it for several miles before a final jolt and clunk signalled the car’s rebellion. It phutted to a stop after a nasty grating sound and the snapping of something metal, and it was only the Lady’s swift use of the handbrake which stopped them slipping down a steep section of the track into the valley. Ranger looked at the Lady with a grin.
‘Oh well. Fancy a walk?’
A sound clap on the back of the head was her reply. Jumping from the car, the two made their way down the track and found a well-worn path leading deeper into the valley. Towards Castle Vytautas.
When they arrived, the castle was even more of a ruin than they had imagined from the hostel owner’s description. The foundations were barely visible beneath years of overgrowth, the surviving walls were half-rotted and encrusted with lichen and moss, and the surviving tower was covered with a thick coat of ivy that Ranger speculated was helping hold the structure up.
‘Quite a place.’ said the Lady. ‘Must be very crowded during visiting time. How do they manage catering?’
‘Probably get in lots of black pudding. Hold the oatmeal, fat and suet.’
‘Charming thought. So where would our killer be hiding?’
‘At this hour? Up at the top. Where there’s greatest safely and least light.’
‘Right. Why don’t you go up there, and I’ll wait down here. Flush it down, and I’ll pin it down. We can interrogate it.’
‘Yeah. Thought you’d say that.’
‘Then why are you still down here? Go on.’
She might have been sending away a servant on an errant. Grumbling under his breath, Ranger began climbing the outside of the tower. The ivy gave him perfect grip, and his heightened strength and senses allowed him to scale the structure without fear of mishap. The Lady watched him climb with admiration. His Sunwalker heritage was clear to see, and it impressed her. She didn’t like them as a rule, but this one was a clear exception.
As he reached the top of the tower, the Lady reached into her jacket and pulled out her weapon. It was a special type of Luger salvaged from an armoury belonging to the Europäisch Geheime Polizei predecessor the SS’s Geist Gegenschlag division. It was modified to fire iron bullets, which to her usual prey was like firing bullets of lava. She watched as Ranger’s figure disappeared through one of the windows at the top of the tower, covered by shutters of rotted wood.
A second after the initial splintering of wood, there was an inhuman shriek from inside and a crash. Then the Lady heard a heavy object falling from the top of the tower, landing with a crash which made her wince. There was a splintering of wood, and the monstrous Nightwalker burst from the door leading into the tower, giving a horrific roar of agony as it passed through a beam of sunlight. The Lady was thrown back as it slunk into the shadow of the tower and crouched like a wild cat disturbed by a rival.
For a moment, the Lady caught sight of a humanoid form made thin by fasting, leathery skin stretching over a skin-and-bone physique, a head too large for the rail-thin neck which supported it, and fangs so large that the beast couldn’t close its mouth properly. It crouched down and the Lady aimed her weapon, but then a dark shape rushed from her left and pinned the monster down. It was Ranger, and as she watched his mouth widened, a barb extended from his tongue, and he bit deep into the Nightwalker’s neck.
There was the sickening sound of sucking, like a pump draining the last dregs of liquid from some ancient cistern. The monster rasped in agony as its precious lifeblood was drained, its struggles weakening as Ranger fed. After a minute, Ranger broke away, wiping his mouth with a grimace. The thing tried to get up, but as its captors watched its limbs shrivelled even further and it collapsed like a giant crab out of water. Before Ranger said anything, the Lady stepped forward, aimed her gun, and shot the monster in the head. It was over.
‘What a pathetic creature.’ said Ranger. ‘It’s been fasting for months.’
‘Fasting? Or starving?’
‘Both? Let’s look in the tower.’
They did, and quickly found a stash of letters on modern paper. Bringing them into the light, they read through them. The tale they told was not pleasant, and the Lady felt sick at some of the details. Finally Ranger looked at her.
‘We’ll have to tell my Head.’
‘I know.’ she gestured to the corpse. ‘what about that?’
‘This place’ll be in full sunlight soon. By tonight, there’ll be nothing left here but ashes. Let’s leave it.’
A week later, they were back in Regensburg reporting to Ranger’s Head. The story they told shocked him.
It appeared that Ardeleanu had discovered the monster hiding in the Rodna Mountains, half-starved since the locals began using local herbs in their cooking which made their blood poisonous. The ambitious woman had struck a deal with it; she would provide low-level employees as clean meals if Nightwalker incidents stopped in Romania. The arrangement had continued until two weeks before, when the loss of agents was causing gossip. Ardeleanu had decided to cover her actions by framing the Nightwalker as the sole culprit. Her betrayal had left to swift retribution, while the secretary had merely been collateral damage.
The Head pondered the question for several minutes. ‘We can’t let this get out. If it became known that one of our own consorted with a Nightwalker for personal gain... Ranger, I’m sure you understand.’
Ranger nodded. ‘There’s enough prejudice against me already without some kind of witch hunt. What about you, Lady?’
The Lady nodded, though she was clearly unsatisfied with the decision. She took her leave a week later. As she stood on the platform waiting for her train back to Paris, she was surprised to see Ranger come to see her off.
‘Thought I’d let you know.... There’s been a top-level meeting, and the Europäisch Geheime Polizei’s going to be investigated.’
‘Cleaning out their skeletons?’
‘Something like that. They still want the Nachtwanderer Secktion, but I’m not sure what’ll happen to how it’s run.’
‘I think we can assure some kind of continuity on our end. If you want a transfer.’
‘Is that an offer?’
‘It’s a possibility.’
‘What a team we’d make. Ranger and the Lady.’
‘You know, I quite like the sound of that. Of course, it’d probably be cooler if you told me your name.’
The Lady wagged her finger. ‘Nothing doing. And here’s my train. I hope we need again soon. Weidersehen.’
‘Auf bald.’
The train had pulled in. The Lady got into the carriage, closed the door and lowered the window. They exchanged some final words, then the train moved off. They waved until each lost sight of the other. Then as the Lady closed her window and settled down for the journey, Ranger began his walk back to the Regensburg division of the Europäisch Geheime Polizei – Nachtwanderer Secktion.
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