Msiri stood before Simon, grabbing his shoulders tightly. “Young prince, listen to me. What I have planned for you in Katanga will test you more than fighting vampires in the north. I am taking you to a place from which you may never return. In my country, there is a secret river valley in the most foreboding forests in the world. You cannot see the sky for the trees. It is a mysterious place where few men have set foot—and lived. The houses there are built of bone. It is the realm of strange, monstrous races. Men with no heads and five arms and tails like crocodiles. There are vicious beasts that kill and eat full-grown men as if they were small birds.” The king stared deep into Simon's wide eyes. “Young prince, if you can survive there, vampires will be like gnats to you then. You will be the mightiest of men.”
Simon stared up at Msiri with mouth agape and trembling slightly.
“But fear not,” Msiri continued loudly, “I am beside you. I will train you in the fighting arts of Katanga. You will become a warrior unmatched around the world. You will strike terror in the hearts of your enemies with gun or blade. You will be terrible to behold!”
“Deus vult,” Simon breathed with excitement.
Greyfriar added, “I asked Msiri to train me, but he said I wasn't ready.” The swordsman pulled his rapier from the scabbard and handed it to Simon. “But even if I can't be there, will you do me the honor of using a blade of mine? And when you become the weapon that Msiri has said, I hope I may join you in fighting vampires.”
The boy took the sword with an awed grin.
General Anhalt scowled at Greyfriar. “That trumps the dagger I gave him in Marseilles.”
“Next time, you can give him an airship,” Greyfriar whispered.
Simon looked up at Msiri. “When do we leave?”
Adele breathed out and replied, “Soon. I will announce your death—” Her voice caught with unexpected emotion. She dropped to one knee, as she usually did, but then realized suddenly that Simon now was at least a foot taller. Biting her lip, she gathered Simon in an ironclad hug as she stood back up. The boy didn't fight back, but did roll his eyes. “I will announce your death in a few days. But I want you out of Alexandria before that.”
“I can't even attend my own funeral?”
“No! Don't be morbid.”
“How am I going to die?”
“Vampires kill you.”
“How many? A hundred?”
Adele laughed softly. “As prodigious as you are, a hundred seems a trifle much. It will be only one.”
“One?” Simon snapped angrily. “I could kill one.”
Adele took an exhausted breath, so Greyfriar stepped in. “It isn't any vampire who kills you, Simon. They send Prince Gareth of Scotland.”
The boy shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at the floor. “Well, he's okay, I suppose. But he's no Flay.”
Greyfriar made a disturbed sound. “That's true enough, but he is a fearsome warrior. Known far and wide as the deadliest hunter his kind has yet produced. In fact, Gareth is credited with the killing of—”
Adele touched his sleeve as her lips quirked upward. “Um, yes. We get the point. Prince Gareth is a god among vampires.”
The swordsman lowered his head with a rebuked cough. “Well, he is known to be quite impressive is my only point.”
“Fine.” Adele waved her hand to stop that discussion. “So, yes, Prince Gareth of Scotland will be your assassin.”
Simon asked, “But won't the real Prince Gareth know he didn't do it? Why won't he just tell people, and your whole story will fall apart?”
Greyfriar turned expectantly toward Adele with a bemused tilt of his head. “An excellent question.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Please. Simon, we've gotten it all worked out. Don't worry about it. There is no way it can fail.”
The boy began, “But I don't think—”
“Enough, Simon!” Adele shouted, and immediately leaned heavily on the table. Greyfriar, Simon, and King Msiri all moved to her side, but she waved them off with a weary shake of her head. “Please, trust me.”
Greyfriar said, “Adele has planned this intricately. There is no chance of failure, Your Highness.”
Simon nodded begrudging agreement. “What about my body? What are you going to bury? Oh! Can I design my monument?”
General Anhalt spoke, “There will be no body, Your Highness. It seems that you, being an impetuous boy, sneak out of the palace tomorrow night. A foolish practice, but consistent with this royal family.”
Adele gave an expression of mock offense at the sirdar.
He continued the tale. “Being the most loyal of retainers, I note your absence and set out to find you. Your intention is to attend a public performance of questionable taste, but you are set upon by Prince Gareth. I intervene to defend you, but the vampire lifts you into the air and laboriously carries you over the Mediterranean, where you are dropped and lost in the embrace of the sea.”