Clack.

Van Helsing sat his teacup down on the table harder than he wanted to. It was one of the many consequences of old age. It was the clumsiness that came from the reactions made for a body in its prime all withered away. He hated getting old. What he would do to return to his bounty hunting prime.

Alas, he was stuck as an errand boy to the noble council at the Capitol. He traveled November, leveraging his contacts to ensure that lesser nobles did as expected. That was why Van sat in Binvieti's keep, drinking his tea and preparing to make nice with Count Gavril.

Count Gavril had been holding back on his tribute.

"And now he is making me wait." Van sighed, raising a hand and rubbing his nose by pushing up his glasses.

A fire crackled in the fireplace beside him, and the couch creaked comfortably beneath the weight of old bones. While he didn't appreciate waiting, he could hardly complain about his surroundings. Several oil paintings of counts and countesses past hung on the walls, staring down at him with a grace that only came from nobility.

The one Van recognized was Gavril's father. The previous count had a haughty face, and a smile that promised venom. He knew how to perform as a noble, and never would have been caught skimming from the tribute.

Van had never met his wife, which was odd. Nobles were always bound to brag about their wives. They liked to talk about how pure they kept the bloodlines. Nobles were the descendants of the first humans, with blood unpolluted by outworlders. They were the seed of the Scions, grown to rule over the common folk and lead them to proper lives.

Van snorted. He knew too much about the nobles' secret lives to believe that hogwash. Nobles focused on purity, for sure, but that just meant they liked to keep their love in the family, as much as was reasonable without birth defects.

He rolled his eyes as he heard the soft footsteps outside. It seemed that his vigil would soon end.

Click.

The door to the hall opened, and a shadow fell across Van. He looked up, only to see a man far too large and oddly proportioned to be human. His skin was as pale as moonlight, where it was exposed from his dark suit and coat. Short black hair spiked up from his head, though two white strips ran up the hair from his ears. His shoulders were wide enough for two men, and his muscles were tight against his clothes.

He was truly a monster in the flesh of a man. The orange firelight bent around him as he closed the door and bowed his wide form to Van.

"Good evening, Sir Helsing," he said, far too properly for a man of his appearance. "I am sorry for the wait. I was working with one of my men in the lab on a new discovery."

"Count Gavril." Van put on his best diplomatic smile. "It is good to meet you."

"You as well." Count Gavril smiled with too many crooked teeth. "I see that my servants have provided you with refreshment. I was worried they may have forgotten about you, but I was so busy that I could not break away."

He stepped across the room in the blink of an eye, sitting down in a large velvet red chair across from the fireplace. Van hadn't even seen him move between the door and the chair. One moment he was at the door, talking; the next, he was in the chair, leaning back with his hands gasping the arms.

"I've called for refreshments for myself as well, if you do not mind waiting a little longer," Count Gavril said. "I find that after a good deal of work, I am ever so parched."

"Something stronger than tea, I presume." Van smiled back. "You have kept me late enough that I think the proper drink might have changed."

Clap.

"Of course!" Count Gavril jumped forward, slapping his hand against the chair's arm. "A wine from the cellar was picked by my best man ere I came up. I think you will enjoy it most of all!"

Van could deal with a lot for a good glass of wine. Count Gavril's vineyards made some of the best red wine on November. A properly aged wine from the family cellars would be worth the unpleasantness that was about to come.

"You said you were doing work down in the labs," Van said, leaning forward. "What were you working on?"

"In time, in time." Count Gavril rested back in his chair. "I think we should wait for the wine before we speak about that particular thing."

Van didn't want to start on the other subject he had come to address, not yet at least. He didn't want to risk angering Count Gavril before he had a chance to at least taste the wine. He licked his lips and found them to be incredibly dry.

"I do have some news I want to inform you of," Count Gavril said. "Unrelated to our conversation tonight."

"Oh?" Van raised one of his bushy eyebrows.

"I have heard word that we had a few outlaws in the town, right at the edge of sunset tonight." Count Gavril smiled, his teeth glinting in the darkness provided by the wide edges of his chair.

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"You called for the Military Police, assuming your town guard was unable to handle them?"

"I disbanded the guard not long ago." Count Gavril waved his hand, as if the idea was a nuisance. "They were eating from my coffers but offering no benefit. I found better ways to handle criminal problems in town."

"How so?" Van's face twitched.

Nothing that Count Gavril had said sounded right. A town's guard was an important buffer when it came to outlaws. They were there to delay and detain until the Military Police could be directed from the Capitol. Disbanding them was out of the question and violated the duty of a noble to his land.

"My Collectors deal with those problems for me, though in this case, I think I will take a personal interest in these outlaws."

Van didn't know how collectors for the tributes would help with outlaws. Collectors were there to gather taxes from the people, both in commerce and in production. They determined how much wheat was sent to the keep, how much gold was taken in a trade, and how much Count Gavril sent as tribute to the Capitol.

They were bureaucrats, not fighters.

"Why?" Van asked, tilting his head to the side. "What about the outlaws has drawn your attention to them?"

He had many questions, but it seemed the most prescient. His investigation might completely dispose of Count Gavril at this point. If he had fired the guard and was trimming money off the top, those were two reasons to have his head on a platter before Van's superiors.

"It's 'Tin Man' Ortega's crew." Count Gavril practically giggled in his shadows. "I sent them an invitation to a party for tomorrow night. There are so many questions I have for such a famous outlaw. I've seen the reports, and he has done so much in such a short time."

"An invitation to a party," Van said it slowly, like he was chewing a particularly touch piece of meat. "Why in the abyss would you do that?"

"Why, dear Sir Helsing, do you think an outlaw would stop in a fine town like Binvieti?"

"To stay out of trouble, obviously," Van said. "Keep their heads down and out of sight."

"We are on the outskirts of the Capitol, too far away for a Military Police presence, but just important enough to have essential services. We provide passes and licenses to traders to go deeper into the Core. With the message from our dear Roald, I think it is safe to say that Ortega is going to use us as a step to Magnus Hortus!"

"That's mad," Van said. "It would be easier to find passage on a different ship, and sneak their way past the gate with that."

"Very true," Count Gavril said. "But you must understand that their entire crew is mad. They attacked another outlaw group and ran them off in the square. All to protect some old woman! That is not how outlaws should behave, but that is how Ortega's crew does!"

"What makes you think that they'll come to your party?" Van asked.

"I will deny them a pass, and offer one in the opposite hand." Count Gavril's smile grew. "The only cost is coming to my party, with the threat that I will call on the authorities to make it impossible elsewhere."

It was insane, and if Ortega was smart, he would simply pick up and go elsewhere. However, if the Capitol or other towns were tipped off to their crew and ship, there would be locked out of exiting November. The gates to go deeper into the Core were more guarded than a base.

Click.

The door opened, and a tension released across Van's shoulders as a servant stepped in carrying a plate of two large wine glasses and two bottles. He recognized the label on the bottle closest to him, and could make out the year on the side. A two decade vintage.

"My lord, your wine is ready," the servant said, looking down his long nose at them both.

"Thank you, Raul." Count Gavril smiled as the servant sat a glass on each side of the table and poured out a full glass from each bottle.

Van noticed that Count Gavril drank from a different bottle than his. The count's had no label on it and seemed much thicker with a deeper red to it. His own poured like normal wine, but Van said nothing. He was getting a chance to enjoy a fine vintage, and it didn't matter to him if Count Gavril preferred slop.

"Stay for a moment." Count Gavril stopped the servant from leaving after he delivered their glasses. "You brought the other item, as I asked?"

"I did, my lord." Raul pulled a small clear vial from his pocket with a glowing gold liquid inside.

"Good," Count Gavril said. "Drink, Sir Helsing, and then I will tell you my second proposition. I think you'll find that it explains everything that you came here for."

Van narrowed his eyes at the vial, but sipped his wine all the same. He had no fear of being poisoned. His death would bring the wrath of the Capitol down on Gavril. However, what was in the vial couldn't possibly make up for the thousands of dolers missing from the tributes.

Van embraced the sharp, acidic taste of the wine as he took a long drink.

"You came here because the Capitol has noticed that my tribute is less of late. That is of no surprise to me." Count Gavril swirled his glass before taking a sip of the dark liquid. "I bear you no ill will in this, but I want you to hear why my tribute has been less. I can assure you that it has nothing to do with theft, and everything to do with the costs of progress."

"You've spent your tribute?" Van grimaced, though he enjoyed the taste of the wine as he took another long drink.

"I have." Count Gavril took another sip of his glass. "I did it in pursuit of a greater item to give as tribute. I have found an item more valuable than gold, and when I bring it to the Capitol, they will see that it was worth the small cost from the tribute."

Van didn't like a word that Count Gavril said, but it made his investigation much easier. Misappropriating the tribute would be dealt with by the count's death. Someone else would be put in charge, and Van would go on with his short remaining life.

All just another day.

"What could make up for that sin?" Van asked, resting his now empty glass on the table.

Clack.

Count Gavril sat down his own glass after his sip and held out his hand. Raul placed the vial on it. It still glowed a bright gold in his hands.

"Youth." Count Gavril stood, and in a blink reappeared above Van. "I do not expect you to believe me without cause, but I do want you to be my advocate when we go to the Capitol. With that in mind, I offer my results to you freely, to see for yourself."

Pop.

He opened the vial and poured it into the wineglass. The light from the liquid lit the area around him, even with his body blocking the fireplace. Van looked at the glass and then back up at Count Gavril. He knew there was no reason for the count to poison him.

"Youth?"

"Your prime back, your body healed, all with just a drink of this vial," Count Gavril said. "I promise on my father's honor and my own. This will change your life, Sir Helsing."

Van reached for the glass and brought it up to his eyes. He had no reason not to. If what Count Gavril promised was real, he would move up in the Capitol. If he were lying, Van would die a few years earlier.

The liquid even mixed a little with the remaining wine.

"I suppose I might as well try."

He slurped the liquid down, and a fire immediately erupted in his gut.

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