"I had the slut killed, of course. But it does downgrade Vlad's value. And increase his sister's."
Mindaug nodded politely, to disguise his true thoughts. Elizabeth Bartholdy was far too reliant on demonic power. Did she not realize that in magic symbolism was vital-but that it was superseded by actuality in spells of these sorts? It was true enough that virginity was symbolic of innocence and purity. But in a rite such as this, what mattered was the spiritual, not the physical, reality. A woman who had been drugged before being violated was still pure, whereas a woman with an intact hymen did not necessarily qualify.
There were those who went to their weddings with that hymen intact, and had no more innocence than a brothel-keeper. Elizabeth knew nothing of Vlad's sister except her age. And that too was no guarantee that she had been allowed to stay virginal in the magical sense. Look at Elizabeth herself. She had probably not been spiritually virginal since the age of five.
They walked across the chapel. It would be impossible to tell, without the most minute examination, that the cross had been broken and rejoined with a mixture of excreta and menstrual blood. But the pentacle on the floor was easily enough seen once the carpet was rolled back. A carpet was very unusual in a chapel, but no one asked why she had had it placed there.
There was a little inscription in Latin beneath the cross. Hard to read unless you came very close. Pater noster, qui erat in caelis. "Our father who was in heaven." Foolish to have such visible evidence. But that was an intrinsic part of the worship and the magic of the path she had chosen to follow. To flaunt and taunt. To claim that one's survival was a demonstration of their master's power.
It was none of his business. If she wanted to take chances, that was her problem. Mindaug was merely here to help her set her trap. The altar would be well used, for the orgy of blood she needed. The dungeon was already filling with the material she had collected for it. It just lacked its prime victims.
The trap would remove much of the dragon's magical power. Make him-or the girl-an easy prey for her spells. Make the reversal and defilement she planned possible.
The count wondered if Elizabeth realized that it would affect her too, inside the circles. She would be as mortal as Vlad, when she went inside the area of containment, to the altar. Mindaug himself would certainly not take such a risk. The dragon was… dangerous.
Not since she had discovered the wyverns, had Dana had so much excitement. It wasn't entirely pleasant. Miu had returned from the north. Alone. With bad news for the tribe. They were in shock and mourning. And yet there was some good news-in the shape of a letter from her brother. Dana was beginning to wonder if words could wear out with reading. Her mother was certainly trying.
And then came a further surprise, in the shape of three scruffy looking men. The gypsies were suspicious. But Miu recognized the leader of the party as just what he claimed to be: one of Vlad's trusted sergeants. Emil respectfully informed Dana's mother that they had been sent to help guard them, and to provide escorts for them. Prince Vlad was deeply concerned about their safety.