Like him, these seigneurs ruled over hundreds of jardins all over the world. As leaders, they were directly responsible for ensuring the safety and prosperity of their kind.
Michael knew Sevarus, the seigneur over the European continent, best; they had both served as Richard's commanders during the jardin wars. Sevarus had been a temple master during the rule of Philip the Fair in France and, when the Templar order had been disbanded and its warrior-priests arrested by the pope, had smuggled many of their kind to safety in England. During his final trip, he had been ambushed at the docks by the king's men and had lost his right hand and left eye in the ugly battle. No one who looked into the scarred eye socket or saw the emptiness at the end of his sleeve could ever doubt his loyalty to the Kyn.
Beside him Gilanden, seigneur of the Scandinavian countries, looked restless and out of place. The big Swede, a ship's captain who had circled the globe more times than even he remembered, had transformed the raiding Kyn under his rule into fleet of shrewd maritime traders. He lived on his own ship, which he sailed through the icy seas of his territory, and was never happy on land.
Cordoba of South America and Tristan of the Mediterranean, also old allies, appeared to be complete opposites. Cordoba, a Spaniard of an old and respected family, was as dark and earthy as Tristan, the son of a Norman baron, was fair and angelic-looking. The two had fostered together as boys, taken their vows, and fought in the Holy Land, always at each other's side. Michael had known twin brothers who had not been as close as the Spaniard and the Norman.
Zhang, the seigneur of Asia, had in his human lifetime been the result of a love affair between a shipwrecked English duke and the Chinese woman who had dragged him out of the sea. Upon his return to England, his father had sent him to the Templars, mostly so that he would not have to explain the blond-haired, black-eyed boy to his aristocratic family.
The voice of Zhang's seneschal crying out Phillipe's name still buzzed in Michael's ears. He had not meant to eavesdrop on their tryst, but the grunts and groans had at first made him think the two were having a different sort of battle. He had not lied when he had spoken of it later to his seneschal; Phillipe's personal life was none of his business, and knowing his seneschal had sex with men did not change Michael's regard or respect for him. He only wished things could be different for both of them.
Michael had never met Solange from Africa, but knew he and his lords had fled from Eastern Europe to the Dark Continent to escape the Nazis during the Second World War. Like Zhang, he had little contact with the Kyn of other countries, but accepted Richard's rule and maintained friendly ties to the other seigneurs.
Geoff's footmen finished serving and bowed before retreating from the reception room. Only then did the high lord begin the business of le conseil supérieur.
"I have brought you together so that we may address the growing threat against the Kyn," Richard said. "The Brethren have moved on and disbanded jardins in Italy and France, and it appears now they are continuing their attacks against our brothers in Spain. From the reports I have received from you and your suzerains, I conclude that it can be nothing less than an orchestrated campaign."
"This new Lightkeeper, Cardinal D'Orio, has instigated it," Tristan said. "From the time he replaced Stoss as the new head of the order, he has been rallying and goading the zealots."
"He does more than that." Sevarus leaned forward to glare at Richard through his good eye. "He has been systematically identifying and tracking my lords and their holdings through their financial dealings with humans. Somehow he has convinced the banks to aid him, for our accounts are being frozen and emptied, our properties seized and sold off, and the humans loyal to us bankrupted or arrested."
"Loss of our wealth does not concern me as much as these atrocious attacks on our strongholds," Cordoba put in. "They have burned Tristan's lords out of Italy and Sevarus's from France; as we speak Spain is under siege. Hundreds have come to my suzerains seeking refuge."
"You and Cyprien have accepted the tide of the refugees without complaint." Richard toyed with the stem of his glass. "Do you wish to them to seek sanctuary elsewhere?"
"No, my lord. I have more than enough territory, and I shall keep it open to all who accept my rule and yours." As he said that, Cordoba glanced at Tristan, who shook his head slightly.
"Are we to guess what you and your foster brother have obviously already discussed?" Richard asked.
"I have mapped the attacks and found a pattern," Tristan admitted. "They are moving in a chaotic fashion, but always to the west, burning every stronghold in their path as they go. They are shooting those who flee." He eyed Cyprien. "If the order continues the campaign at this pace, the hunters will reach the Atlantic by summer. From there they will have to turn around, or cross the sea and invade South America or the United States."
"They may turn to the north to attack my lords and their strongholds," Gilanden added sullenly.
Solange nodded. "Or move to the south to cross over to Morocco and move against mine."
Sevarus's shaggy head turned right and then left. "We have tolerated these zealots too long, my lord. The Brethren have vowed to destroy our kind, and we know they will never permit us to dwell in peace among humans. The time has come to settle this thing."
"I agree," Zhang said. The quietest of the Kyn rulers, the Asian seigneur rarely spoke, as his talent infused his voice with an enchanting, musical quality that he could use to hold humans and Kyn in a state of enchantment. "The order will never rest until we fill their torture chambers or cover the earth with our ashes. My suzerains and their warriors are ready to fight."
The other seigneurs added their agreements.
"Before we declare war on humans," Michael said sharply, silencing the other men around the table, "I would propose another course for consideration. We can expose the Brethren to the rest of humanity."
Richard's hood turned toward Cyprien. "And how will this protect us?"
"The Brethren are as secretive as we are. For centuries they have guarded their members and practices as carefully as we have our jardins," Michael said. "They breed new members for the order to keep outsiders from discovering their mission and the lengths to which they go to carry out their campaign against us. They have been quite successful as well. No human of this era would believe that immortal blood drinkers live among them, or that the Brethren hunt and slay us."
Richard made an impatient gesture. "Go on."
"If we were to make available to the media evidence of the order's membership, methods, practices, and propaganda, they would immediately exploit it." Michael saw the doubtful expressions around the table. "The scandal it would create would be enormous, especially when it was revealed how the order uses the positions they have assumed in the hierarchy of the Catholic Church to shield their identities and activities."
"Michael, if you expose the Brethren," Solange said, "you will expose us."
"Think on it, my lord," Michael replied. "The people of this era are not ignorant, superstitious peasants, cringing before the shadow of the cross. Modern humans wear the armor of disbelief and science, and little can penetrate it. Certainly CNN will run special reports for weeks on the topic, as will FOX and truTV. Secret vampire hunters will become all the rage among human adolescents. Shops in the malls will carry official Brethren T-shirts. Blessed wooden stakes and wreaths of garlic will be sold on eBay."
"It makes me yearn for the days when all we had to fear were the inquisitors and the stake." Gilanden squinted at Michael. "You make a good argument, Cyprien, but it is too much of a risk. The Brethren must have ample proof of our existence."
"Any proof they have, we can easily discredit," Michael assured him. "We have many high-placed friends among our tresori and the humans loyal to us."
"I disagree," Tristan said, abandoning his languid air. "Lord Gabriel and his sygkenis have rescued dozens of injured Kyn imprisoned by Brethren cells, so we must assume there are more in captivity. All they need produce is one prisoner and the humans will know we exist, and will believe anything they are told about us. If the Brethren feel they have nothing to lose, what is to stop them from doing just that?"
"They could be planning to expose us first," Sevarus said. "Done right, 'twould gain much sympathy for their cause."
Michael thought of the grotesque effects of the new, explosive copper ammunition the Brethren had employed against the Kyn. He had intended to relate Alexandra's theory of why they were using it, but tempers around the table were running too hot. "We cannot fight the order openly, not in this time."
"Battle is reserved for honorable opponents," Gilanden said. "For this work, we need to use assassins."
"What happened to that golden-haired viper who served you, Lord Tremayne?" Cordoba asked. "He seemed most efficient."
"No," Michael said before Richard could answer. "Lucan serves me now, and he is retired."
"Lucan serves the Kyn. He will do as he is told." Richard rose. "We will take the night to consider the matter, and meet again on the morrow to decide our course. Only remember this." He pulled back his hood, exposing his distorted countenance, which looked much more human than it had for the last two centuries, and regarded his seigneurs through his cat-shaped eyes. "Once a course is changed, deliberately or not, one may not return easily to what was in the beginning."
As the seigneurs began filing out of the room, Michael wondered if he should talk privately with the high lord. The rest of the seigneurs seemed hell-bent on going to war with the Brethren, and perhaps were somewhat justified in their attitudes, given the losses they had suffered during the attacks. Still, more violence was not the answer. Richard had averted many such conflicts during their history; he might listen to reason.
"Cyprien," Richard said, taking the decision out of his hands. "Stay for a moment, if you would."
