Writ in blood : a novel of Saint-Germain by Yarbro Chelsea Quinn 1942-

Author:Yarbro, Chelsea Quinn, 1942- [Yarbro, Chelsea Quinn, 1942-]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Saint-Germain, comte de, d. 1784, Reilly, Sidney George, 1874-1925, vampires
Publisher: New York : Tor
Published: 1997-07-14T22:00:00+00:00

Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

I’m bleeding quite enough without that.” He saw the shock on the faces around him. “ Renke . Now. Before I faint.”

Oberstetten and von Traunreuth were gasping for breath as they stumbled up. “We heard a shot . . . Didn’t think any . . . thing of it,” Oberstetten said between gulps of air. “Then—”

“I will go for aid,” said Renke, as if coming out of a dream. “Do not move him until we can bring a stretcher.”

Ragoczy closed his eyes as he heard his warden hasten back down the slope. “Someone give me something to press against my side.” He was shocked to hear how thready his voice was. Looking up, he realized the men expected him to die; the wound must be worse than he supposed it was. He wondered vaguely how difficult it would be to account for his survival.

Apfelobstgarten removed his hunting jacket at once, and, wadding it up, handed it to Ragoczy. “I don’t want to make ... it any ...” His words faded as he stepped back from the wounded man.

“Christ!” von Nordlingen exclaimed, dropping his shotgun as if had caught fire. “It was an accident\”

“An accident,” echoed Einlass, then turned on von Nordlingen. “You fired without being sure of your target.”

“I know, I know,” said von Nordlingen in a steady way, as if repetition would bring real understanding. “I should have made certain. But I saw . .. and he is . . . not so tall. I supposed it must be a deer. He was by himself.” He looked around at the others. “You know how it is, don’t you?”

It was von Traunreuth who answered. “This is a tragic accident.” Ragoczy s thoughts grew muddled; his side was agonizing now, and it took all his scattered concentration to keep from crying out. He no longer tried to listen to the voices around him, but let himself slip into the twilight of semiconsciousness while the others waited for Renke to return with a stretcher. “Roger,” he said, doing his best to make his manservant’s name distinct.

“What is it, Count?” asked Oberstetten, bending nearer, one hand cupped to his ear.

“Roger. Will know.” He was certain that the journalist heard him. “Right you are,” said Oberstetten with the false cheerfulness of one expecting the worst. “We’ll put him in charge.”

“Good,” said Ragoczy, but in the lost tongue of his people, who had vanished more than two thousand years before. His voice was so soft that none of the men around him paid any attention to it; they were occupied by the continuing protestations of Paul von Nordlingen, who

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.