“I have promised you safety, and I will hold my promise. Now you must promise me this. Most vampires sleep during the day, and that is because sunlight burns us. If you opened the curtains and the sunlight touched Genevieve, she’d burst into flame.”
The boy’s eyes rounded. “Cor!”
“I don’t think you want that to happen,” Kendrick said. “Will you promise me that you’ll watch over her while I am gone? Keep her from harm?”
The boy’s jaw worked, and then he nodded. “Right you are, guv. Want me to put my hand on the blade again?”
“How about we shake on it, like men?” Kendrick held out his hand.
The boy eyed it for a long moment and then put out his own. They shook.
I can see why Genevieve likes the boy, Kendrick thought as he descended to the kitchens. Hewasas sharp as an arrow, and stubborn too. And clearly had spirit.
Kendrick roused Joseph briefly to get instructions on how to mix the plaster. The other vampire tried to help, but he couldn’t stay awake. “Don’t worry,” Kendrick said. “I can do it.” He made the plaster and heated the pot of soup left on the hob, then found a tray and carried it all up, stopping for a moment by the library on his way.
He found Fletcher sitting up and coughing, a frustrated and embarrassed look on his face.
“You shouldn’t be up,” Kendrick said. “You hurt your ribs.”
“But I need—” The boy broke off, flushing, and coughed again.
Ah, the pressing necessities of humanity. “I’ll help you.”
“Lor’ lumme, guv, not with a lady in the room,” the boy said, horrified.
“She won’t wake until dusk,” Kendrick said, hiding his smile. “I’ll shield you, in any case.” He helped the boy with his business in the extremely dusty chamber pot below the bed—how long had it been since the vessel had been used for its intended purpose?—and then got him back under the covers. The endeavor had clearly tired the boy out, so much that he could barely hold the spoon, but Kendrick insisted he eat at least half the bowl of soup. At the end, it was Kendrick holding the spoon for the boy.
“I’m full, guv,” Fletcher insisted. “You keep pokin’ the spoon in my gullet, I’ll think you’re fattenin’ me up.” He glared balefully over the spoon in front of his mouth.
Kendrick laughed. “All right.” He sat the bowl on the table and sat back in the chair, moving the sword that had slipped since he had first roused himself.
“Is that your pig sticker?” Fletcher’s eyes stared at the sword.
Kendrick lifted it and set it in his lap, unsheathing the blade. “It was given to me by a friend a few weeks ago. Before that, it hung over her fireplace, the broadsword of her ancestor.” He turned the blade so the boy could see it.
“You duel with it, like toffs used to?”
“A light, fast sword is best for dueling. Advance and retreat, very quick. A broadsword like this is used for hacking. You want to take the enemy down in one blow.” Kendrick lifted the sword and demonstrated the swing.
Fletcher followed the movement, eyes wide. “You killed a body with that?”
Kendrick judged this simple youthful interest. “A few. But they were vampires.”
The boy made a face. “You killed anypeople?”
“Not in a few centuries.”
The boy’s jaw dropped. “You’rethatbleedin’ old?”
“Older,” Kendrick said wryly. “I have a book here that is set close to when I lived. Would you like to hear it?” Kendrick liftedSigestan of Emberlost. “It is an adventure about a wanderer, what you might call a knight-errant before the arrival of the Normans.”
“Here in England?”
“Yes.”
“It’s got fights? With swords?”
“Many.”
