Giving Him The Moon

'Very well, William, we will start again. I suggest you try to concentrate this time.’

Will stared at the carpet as if hoping inspiration would spring from the depths of its woollen pattern.

‘What does Akooahgasaaashnangbeaah mean?’ Angelus folded his arms and waited.

‘Go to… go to the barn?’ Will said uncertainly.

Angelus pursed his lips. ‘Go?’

‘Gasash the verb “to go”.’

‘No! Very much not the verb “to go”. How on earth could it be? And if you must pull it to pieces like that, then gasaaash is from the noun “war”. Why is it that you spent an hour supposedly learning this tonight, and you still seem to know no more than when we started?’

Because it’s a stupid language, Will wanted to say, and it makes no sense, and why do I have to learn Fyarl anyway? ‘I am trying, Angelus, but I just can’t make any sense of it.’

Angelus simply looked at him for a long moment. ‘The reason you are not getting anywhere is that your one thought is to stop and go and do something you would find more enjoyable. Only that is not going to happen tonight, my boy, nor any night soon if I do not see some sign of improvement.’ Will glared down once more. If looks could kill the carpet would be in need of an epitaph. ‘Now, you asked to do it this way, so I am doing it this way. And I have told you ten times: the inflection carries the verb with the qualifier in the middle. Have you got that clear now?’

‘Yeh. The inflection has the verb and the qualifier’s in the middle.’

‘Exactly. So – Akooahgasaaashnangbeaah?’

War, Will thought furiously, something to do with war. ‘He fights in the war?’

‘No.’

‘But it is something to do with fighting?’

‘This is not a parlour game, boy.’

The tip of Will’s lip curled with a suggestion of a snarl. ‘Well what does Aky-ah mean?’ he asked curtly.

‘Akooah? Akooah doesn’t mean anything of course. That is why I keep telling you, you have to listen to the whole sentence, not try to deconstruct it in this ridiculous fashion.’

‘Oh well, that’s really helpful, Angelus! How am I going to learn this rubbish if you don’t tell me what half the words mean? I don’t see why I have to learn Fyarl anyway. It’s all just babbling gibberish; I’m quite happy to leave you with the honour of speaking it.’

‘You are within inches, boy – inches – of me losing my temper.’ The two vampires glowered at each other. Angelus started to prowl towards his fledgling. ‘I, William, had to learn Fyarl with someone standing over me with a whip and using it every time I got anything wrong; and I am becoming sorely tempted to find out if that would be the best way to focus your mind tonight.’

Will casually scratched his nose and looked away as if there was something suddenly very intriguing in the corner of the room.

Angelus stopped and appraised him for a long moment. ‘Hmm,’ he said, seemingly mollified. ‘Now think. You have already been told everything you need to know and I would have thought you, of all people, would appreciate this one. Akooahgasaaashnangbeaah?’

Will shoved his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. Me, why me? Because of something it’s about? War… war… If I could just find the stupid bloody verb. But it’s not to fight. What else could you do with a war? Win it or lose it presumably. ‘To win?’ he suggested cautiously.

‘Yes.’ Angelus looked slightly more pleased. ‘So?’

‘So somebody wins the war?’

‘The vampires, boy! The vampires!’

‘Oh. The vampires win the war.’

‘Won. Nang: past tense. Won.’

‘The vampires won the war.’

‘Finally!’ Angelus walked over and flung himself back into his chair. ‘The vampires won the war. Say it.’

‘Aky-oah-gasash-nong-baah.’

Angelus gave him a look that spoke volumes about his pronunciation, then picked a book off the desk and handed it to him. ‘You have a quarter of an hour, then we will try again.’ Will took the proffered book and reluctantly found his place. Angelus watched him suspiciously for a second then picked up a pen and started to write.

Will tried to make some sense of the Fyarl alphabet and the translation in a strange sixteenth century typeface beside each line. The words were more or less there, once he’d found them: Akooahgasaaashnangbeaah: The vampires won the war. And gasaaash was ‘war’, nang was ‘won’, and akooah, rather inexplicably, meant nothing at all. So beaah was presumably ‘vampires’. But the next line was as incomprehensible as ever. A cloud of uninformed silence descended over Will’s bent head.

After a while his eye started to stray towards the window. The moon rose at seven tonight, he thought. So if it’s over that tree then it must be about three now, and the card game at Benny’s usually goes on until six, so—

‘How old are you now?’

‘Eh?’ Will’s head shot up. ‘Six. Nearly seven.’ He knew better than to mention the other twenty-seven years he had spent on the earth. Angelus was over a hundred and had made it perfectly clear at an early stage of Will’s fledglinghood that human years were not allowed to count.

‘I would have thought that by seven you would have learnt to stand still for two minutes.’

Will looked curiously at his feet, as if expecting to see them dancing about of their own accord. ‘Perhaps I should sit down?’

‘You were sitting down, William. We started off sitting down. Whereupon you thought you might do better if you were allowed to stand up, so you can damn well stay standing.’

‘Oh.’

‘Akooahgasaaashnangbeaah?’

‘The vampires won the war.’

‘Hmm. Carry on. And try not to fidget.’ Angelus returned to his letter.

After what seemed an eternity, but still not long enough for Will to grasp any of the demonic tongue, Angelus set down his pen with a precise gesture and sat back in his chair, steepleing his hands. ‘Put the book down.’

Will did so, trying to snatch a last few seconds glance as he did.

‘The vampires won the war?’ Angelus intoned.

‘Acky… acky…’ Will panicked. The words seemed to have flown straight out of his head. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate. It’s a sentence, he told himself. It’s a perfectly ordinary sentence in a perfectly simple demon tongue. Baby Fyarl can speak it, so can I.

‘Aky gash…’

Angelus slammed his palm on the desk, making Will jump. ‘Akooahgasaaashnangbeaah, boy!’

Angelus was standing up again. ‘Yes Sire,’ Will babbled frantically. ‘Aker… something. Er, gasash “war”. Beah “vampires”. I’ve got it now.’

‘No you have not!’ He glared at him. ‘I would not have thought it possible but you actually seem to know less than you did yesterday. Now, what does Akooahgasaaashnangbeaah mean?’

‘The vampires won the war, Sire.’

‘Yes. So since you delight in deconstructing sentences, what is the Fyarl for “vampire”?’

‘Beah.’

‘No!’

Will took an alarmed pace back and Angelus shut his eyes, clearly fighting with his temper. He took a deep breath. ‘The Fyarl for “vampire” is akoobh. Repeat that.’

‘Akybar. But—’

‘Let us at least get the pronunciation of that one word right, first. Akoobh.’

‘Akybar.’

‘Akoobh.’

‘Akeebur.’

‘That, I have a horrible feeling, is as good as I am going to get. Thus we get Akooahgasaaashnangbeaah.’

‘But you said—’

‘Do I gather from all the shouting that he is struggling with something?’

Will stiffened; there was only one person who would walk into Angelus’s study without knocking, and he most certainly did not want Darla around when he was making a fool of himself.

Angelus sighed and came round from behind the desk. ‘I sometimes don’t know why I bother.’

‘Well, Angelus, you certainly take a vast amount of time about not bothering. What have you been failing to learn this time, William?’

‘Fyarl,’ he said, and, after a pause just long enough for her not to mistakenly think it was unintentional, ‘Madam.’ Angelus immediately clouted him across the back of his head.

She ignored the provocation. ‘Still Fyarl? You seem to be having a great deal of trouble with that.’

He didn’t answer. She looked at him coldly for a little longer and he started to fidget under her gaze.

‘Keep still, boy. Did you want something, my love?’

‘I simply wished to point out the time, Angelus. Or do you intend to spend the entire night on him?’

‘I intend to get one sentence into this boy’s skull tonight, even if I have to do it by writing it on a piece of paper, drilling a hole, and then hammering it in.’ Angelus turned to Will, who was sulking. ‘Akooahgasaaashnangbeaah?’

‘The vampires won the war.’ Angelus quirked one eyebrow. ‘Sire.’

‘Angelus, you have been getting nowhere trying to teach him this for weeks now. How much longer?’

‘At this rate, about seventy years. It’s no good, Darla, I want him to learn this.’ She snorted and Angelus quickly took her arm and steered her away. ‘He’s a fledgling, my love. He needs my attention sometimes,’ he muttered.

‘What you mean is you enjoy believing he does,’ she hissed back.

‘Not at all,’ he said a little too quickly, then looked at Will, who was trying not to make it too obvious that he was listening. ‘ “Vampire”, boy?’ he snapped.

‘Akybar, Sire.’

Darla pursed her lips and left.

‘But if it’s that then what does beah mean?’ Will asked in confusion.

‘Beah? Beah? Think!’

Will tried as much thought as seemed possible with an irate master vampire glaring down his neck, but didn’t get anywhere very useful. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said helplessly.

‘Oh, get out. Go on, go to bed. Let’s see if one night without six pints of beer swilling around in your guts will do something for your wits tomorrow.’

‘Can’t I go out?’

‘No.’

Will immediately turned to go.

‘Wait!’ Angelus drummed his fingers on the desk, considering. ‘My bed today, I think, William.’

Will took in Angelus’s expression and dug his nails into his palms behind his back, trying to look pleased. ‘Thank you, Sire.’

‘What’s the matter, William? Surely you weren’t thinking of sneaking out after I’ve said you mayn’t?’

Will set his face into an unreadable mask.

Angelus gave him a thin smile. ‘I will be up shortly. I expect you to be in bed.’

‘Yes Sire.’

Angelus sat back down and watched Will’s retreating back. When the door had shut the master vampire caught the book up with an easy gesture and flipped forward a few pages, then settled back, his eyes flicking rapidly over the text with every sign of enjoyment.

Upstairs Will kicked a relatively blameless section of wall a few times and then got ready for bed in his own room, before padding along the corridor in his night-shirt and slippers to Angelus’s much larger one. At least it was warm in there. He piled more coal on the fire and sat down cross-legged on the hearth-rug, scowling at the flames.

If that little lump at the front falls within the next minute, she’ll be home by the end of the week, he told himself. And he glared at the fragment of coal, urging it to fall. He counted to sixty and nothing happened. ‘Dru!’ he sobbed, sprawling back. ‘When are you going to come home? I can’t do this without you.’

He rolled over and lay on his stomach picking angrily at a little tuft on the rug. Dru had been gone for nearly nine months, sent to the Master to be trained in high magics by him. And though his head knew it was a good thing, knew that when she returned she would be stronger and more skilled than ever and officially a fledgling no longer, his heart only knew that it missed her every minute she was gone.

If that spark on the left lasts longer than the one on the right, she will be home by month’s end. He watched the little caterpillar trail of glowing soot, willing the left one to keep burning. And when it very clearly wasn’t going to, he snatched up the poker and beat the other one out. Then he jabbed viciously at the fire, sending clouds of smoke billowing into the room and getting soot all over his hands. He threw the poker down eventually and tried to wipe his palms clean on the underside of the rug. Then he just sat and glared into space.

‘Now I must be growing forgetful, I was sure I told you to go to bed.’

Will jumped up and bolted, heading round the far side of the bed. ‘I was. I’m just going.’

Angelus crooked a finger. Will bit his lip and returned a few paces, putting his hands behind his back and trying to look innocent. Angelus’s favourite game was about to begin.

‘When I give you an order, boy, do you think I’m merely trying to amuse myself?’

‘No Sire! Course not. I only lost track of the time. I was just going.’

‘There is no just about it, boy. I told you to go to bed. I did not tell you to sit on the hearth-rug warming yourself by the fire.’

‘But I was just—’

‘Be quiet. Come here.’ Angelus reinforced the order with a snap of his fingers. Will came very warily, fully expecting to be hit, but to his surprise Angelus merely frowned and studied him. Then Angelus’s hand swooped out and he grabbed Will’s chin, twisting it slightly ‘Why do you look like a sweep?’

‘Do I?’

Angelus sighed and the hold changed to a pincer grip on one ear and Will was dragged over to the wash stand. With his other hand the master vampire poured water into the bowl, dampened a flannel cloth, and started to wash Will’s face. Will kept still, trying not to protest at being treated like a toddler.

‘Did you brush your teeth?’

‘Yes,’ Will said flatly.

‘Hands.’

Will held them up and Angelus let go of his ear to wash them, rubbing each finger clean in turn. When he seemed satisfied he dropped the flannel on the side of the bowl and ran a cold eye over Will. ‘You need a haircut.’

‘Yes Sire.’

‘I will not have anyone in my household looking like a street urchin.’

‘No Sire.’ Will waited.

‘Go and fetch my night-shirt.’ Angelus turned his back on Will and started to undress. Will stood with the expensively embroidered silk shirt ready. He had taken care to turn away slightly, so as not to be accused of looking when Angelus was naked, but he nevertheless gazed sidelong from under his lashes, watching his sire's graceful form. Angelus finally accepted the shirt off him and at another snap of the fingers Will brought him his dressing gown and slippers. Angelus tied the dressing gown cord with a flourish, then went and settled in the leather armchair beside the fire. He drummed his fingers on the arm, still looking at Will with a calculating air.

Will eyed him back. There was a faint chance that if he could get him drunk Angelus might fall asleep before he got around to anything very unpleasant. ‘Do you want a whiskey, Sire?’

There was a nod. While it was being poured, though, he saw Angelus’s eye fall on something across the room. ‘What is that?’

Will followed his gaze. He thought it was perfectly obvious what it was; it was his own carpet slipper, which had fallen off when he had tried to get away. The other one was probably round the far side of the bed somewhere. ‘It’s a slipper. Must have got left there by mistake.’ He handed Angelus the whiskey and tried to see if he could get away with simply picking the offending object up.

‘Bring it here.’

Seemingly not.

Angelus took the thing and examined it as if it was something from the dark continent. ‘This appears to be yours. What are your possessions doing scattered around my room?’ He took a sip of his drink and looked at Will with one eyebrow raised in question.

Will was sorely tempted to give a sarcastic response and hope to get the satisfaction of a few decently landed punches in the ensuing scuffle. But he had little doubt that Angelus was in a dangerously frustrated mood and he really did not relish the thought of one of his sire's more creative punishments. Besides, there was also a lit fire in the room, and that was never a safe combination to be near. He decided to put on a show of respectful contrition: it might throw Angelus.

‘I’m very sorry, Sire.’ He hung his head meekly.

‘Are you, indeed?’ Angelus was looking at the slipper again. ‘This thing presumably has a fellow. And have you left that lying about as well?’

‘Do you want me to find it, Sire?’

‘It can wait.’ Angelus set the slipper down beside him on the hearth. He then took another sip of whiskey and patted the front of the chair beside his knee. ‘Come and sit with me.’ And, with a sinking heart, Will at last realised that this was far worse than Angelus in a simple rage with him. This was Angelus actually attempting to be understanding.

Will cautiously sat down on the floor, leaning back against the other vampire’s knee. Angelus reached over and ruffled his hair. ‘Now why are you being so awkward, Will?’

‘Er… I’m sorry about the slipper. And I was going to go to bed—’

‘Will, you know what I’m talking about. I asked you to learn twenty lines of Fyarl. Only twenty lines, Will, it’s not much.’ He stroked the hair out of his childe’s eyes. ‘And you’re a bright boy, it’s nothing you aren’t capable of.’

‘Yes it is.’

‘I’ve tried being patient, I’ve tried to help you, but I am soon going to have to conclude that you are doing this deliberately.’

‘No I’m not. I’m no good at languages. I never have been. And I just can’t make head or tail of it.’

‘Would you like me to speak only Fyarl to you? Would that help?’

‘No it would not,’ he said crossly.

Angelus growled warningly. ‘William, don’t take that tone with me.’ He took a slow mouthful of his drink. ‘Perhaps if I sent you to stay with some Fyarl for a few weeks?’

‘No! Don’t send me away! Please don’t send me away.’ Dru might be coming home any day, and the thought of not being there when she arrived was unbearable.

‘Will, if you don’t let me help you, I am forced to think you are being wilful.’

‘Oh yeh, you’re really helping, Angelus!’

Angelus hit him a blow that sent him sprawling sideways and he found himself flat on his back looking up at his sire towering over him in demon face. He backed away rapidly on his hands, eyes searching for a weapon to make a grab at, but Angelus looked away for a second, very clearly struggling to control himself, then reverted to human form and hunkered down, holding out a hand. The word sorry was not one Angelus would ever allow past his own lips, but he did occasionally permit himself a little body language. Will returned with extreme reluctance, and they both sat down again.

The strong fingers played with Will’s hair for a while. Will gradually relaxed against his sire’s knee, closing his eyes. After a little he tilted his head slightly so Angelus could rub around the tips of his ears and down onto his neck, tickling small soft patterns that sent shivers down his spine. ‘I know you miss Dru.’ Will stiffened. ‘We all do. But it is for the best.’ Will stared blankly at the fire whilst Angelus spelt out all the reasons he already knew perfectly well about why it was a good thing for Dru to have gone. Then his lip curled into a sneer as Angelus began to grow creative about how disappointed Dru would be if Will didn’t work hard in her absence; and how he, Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, was being the epitome of patience and gentle tutoring – for which Will should be nothing but grateful. ‘Do you understand that now?’ Angelus finally said.

‘Yes Sire.’ Will made an elaborate exhibition of rubbing the side of his head where Angelus had hit him. ‘Can I have a whiskey too, please?’

There was a sigh. ‘I suppose so.’ Will leapt up quickly and helped himself to a large one.

‘I thought you would like Fyarl; it is one of the most poetic demon tongues there is. Why, the subtlety of the expression alone makes it wonderful.’ Angelus snapped his fingers again and Will returned to his place. ‘And their war chants…’ Another heavy sigh. ‘Aren’t you looking forward to being able to read those?’

Will studied the depths of his whiskey, swirling it around in the glass. ‘Not particularly, no.’

‘Some of the best demon stories ever written are in Fyarl.’

‘I’m happy to make do with the ones in English.’

‘Someone who could speak Fyarl might be considered responsible enough to join the Hellish Abandon Club.’

This was blatant bribery and something Will had been working on for months, since he needed his sire’s permission to be put forward for membership at the demon fighting and drinking club. Will took a swig of whiskey, grateful that Angelus couldn’t see his face. ‘Don’t really see the connection between the two,’ he said carefully.

Angelus coughed and seemed interested in his own drink for a while. ‘But Will, what if you ever need to employ a Fyarl?’ he said eventually. ‘How will you give it instructions?’

‘Simple, I’ll also employ someone who can translate.’

‘William, no childe of mine should ever be forced to rely on anyone else for anything.’ Will took a hasty gulp of whiskey in response to the edge in Angelus’s voice. ‘You may have had a spoilt enough upbringing that you think you can buy your way out of every situation.’ The brogue was beginning to thicken. ‘But you do not get out of things like that in my household. Nor are you fit to make such decisions. If I say you will learn Fyarl, you will learn Fyarl.’

‘Oh well, if you say I will, then that’s bound to make me understand it.’

‘You are also not so old, boy, that I won’t put you over my knee and use that slipper to teach you some manners.’

Will snorted. ‘I should like to see you try.’

Angelus’s tone dropped a degree or two. ‘Oh yes, I was forgetting, you’re a big bad nearly-seven aren’t you. And you consider that grown up do you?’

‘I’m not a baby.’

‘Grown up vampires, William, are a credit to their sire and their bloodline.’

Oh God, Will thought, not tonight, not on top of everything else: don’t give me the disgrace to your family speech. He could almost parrot it line by line as Angelus continued.

‘By seven I was one of the most renowned fledglings of the Order of Aurelius. I did not earn that reputation by getting into tavern brawls and playing ridiculous practical jokes.’

Pubs, Will thought, as he always did, they’re called pubs. Come into the nineteenth century, Angelus. ‘No Sire.’

‘My hunting skills were held up as an example to others, I did not simply drag home whatever chance happened to send my way.’ This was grossly unfair and had been for some years, but Angelus had clearly not yet seen reason to remove it from the list.

‘No Sire.’

‘And by seven, boy, I could speak fluent Fyarl.’

That was new. Will gritted his teeth and kept silent.

‘Did you hear me?’

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

‘I’m sure you did, Angelus; but then you would, wouldn’t you, being perfect, as you are.’ This was skating dangerously close to the edge again, and Will knew it, but his temper was beginning to wear thin.

Angelus reached over and plucked the glass out of Will’s hand, ignoring the mewl of protest. ‘Very well, boy, I’ve had enough of this nonsense. Starting tomorrow you will study Fyarl with your full attention. And we will do it the way I say, not according to some far fetched scheme you have dreamt up to waste time. Now: you will give me your promise to try your best tomorrow.’

Will shrugged.

There was the little snick of the glass being put back on the side table. ‘Answer me properly.’

Will chewed his thumbnail and stared crossly at his bare toes. ‘For the sixth hundredth time, I am trying.’

‘Well since you’re big and grown up and nearly seven perhaps you ought to try a bit harder.’ Angelus paused. ‘Fyarl is so beautiful, you know.’ There was more of a whine in Angelus’s tone than was entirely becoming for a master vampire.

Will growled. ‘Sounds like humping cats to me.’

‘That’s it!’ His sire cuffed him round the ear. ‘Over my knee.’ Angelus picked up the slipper.

‘You’re joking!’

‘I am not joking, boy. Over my knee.’ He pinched Will’s ear again. ‘Now.’

With a scowl of pure fury Will got up, and stood and glared at Angelus with folded arms. He was well aware that Angelus was also missing Dru, but he was damned if he was going to let himself become that much of a substitute for his sire’s frustrations in her absence.

Angelus regarded him with a quite smile and toyed with the slipper with exaggerated nonchalance. ‘What are you going to do, Will? Try to fight me? Run out into the street in your bare feet and night-shirt? Surely you’re man enough to take your punishments, childe; don’t tell me I’m going to have to send for a few minions to hold you down!’

Will flared his nostrils.

Angelus tapped the slipper thoughtfully against his palm. ‘Well of course, I’m not unreasonable, if you just can’t bear the pain I could try and think of something else.’ He tilted his head. ‘I could keep you in every night for a month or so…’

Will’s narrowed his eyes and he stalked over with as much hauteur as he could muster and draped himself awkwardly over Angelus’s lap, spreading his palms on the floor to brace himself. There was a smug snigger from his sire. He felt the tail of his night-shirt being yanked up and Angelus’s left hand planted on his back. Then the other hand brought the slipper down sharply.

Will blinked. The thing about Dru was she didn’t object to the fact that it did actually hurt. Three more blows and the stinging was changing to a sore smart. By ten after that it was becoming something a not-quite-seven-year-old vampire called painful. And Angelus was actually purring.

Angelus started to lecture him, punctuating every sentence with hard smacks. ‘You will learn— to speak— Fyarl—. You will learn— to enjoy— Fyarl—, if I— tell you to—, William—. Fyarl is— one of— the most— beau— ti— ful— de— mon— ic— languages— in— the— world—.’

Will kept his motionless and dignified silence for a while longer and then his patience snapped. If Angelus wanted a small boy to torment while Dru was away, then that was exactly what he would get. And Will was going to do his damnedest to get something for himself out of the evening. He gave a fretful whimper, burrowing against Angelus’s thigh.

Sure enough, the slippering immediately stopped. ‘What’s the matter, Will? Do you think that nearly-seven is too old to still be spanked by your sire?’

‘Leave me alone,’ he said with as much petulant childishness as he could muster.

Angelus tapped him on the shoulder, and, after he wouldn’t look up, growled. Will raised his head with a resentful pout, refusing to meet his eye. ‘Well aren’t you a little ball of misery. Why is it, Will, that you can take a flogging in almost total silence and yelp like a puppy when I spank you?’

‘Dunno, Sire,’ Will said sulkily. Angelus grinned and pushed his head back down. Then Will squeaked and squirmed again because the slipper had started up once more. Angelus just used his free arm to pin him tightly in place, a flurry of particularly sharp blows falling down. Will could smell that his sire was getting aroused. He squirmed more; deliberately arching so he was rubbing everywhere except Angelus’s cock.

Angelus slowed down a little, then stopped and picked up his glass and took another sip. Will snuffled and grimaced. He also tried to shift his balance since he was beginning to fall off.

‘Did I say you could move?’

‘No,’ Will said in a very small surly voice.

‘Then don’t—.’

‘Ow!’

‘And since you’re very big—’

‘Owhhww.’

‘And very grown up—’

‘Pleeease.’

‘And very nearly seven—’

‘Siiire!’

‘You should— be able— to keep quiet—.’ Angelus paused for another smug sip. Will was rubbing his head furiously against the side of his arm, making the sleeve suspiciously wet. This last little display finally seemed to satisfy Angelus who gave him a light pat on the back. ‘Get up.’

Will shot off immediately before Angelus thought better of it.

‘Maybe now you’ll go to bed.’

Will went and dived under the covers. He watched apprehensively as Angelus tossed back the last of the whiskey before shedding his dressing gown and coming over to look down at him. ‘Roll over.’ Angelus was fully erect and undoubtedly planned to use it for the next stage of Will’s lesson. Will ignored him. ‘William, I said roll over.’

‘No,’ he said sullenly. ‘You only want to bugger me because you think it will make me do what you want.’

Angelus looked startled, persuasion had clearly been the last thing on his mind. As usual he fell back on his well worn threats. ‘You will do as I say because I tell you to, William. Otherwise—’

Will gave a little sob and flipped over onto his front.

‘What on earth is the matter with you today?’

Will mumbled something that could be mistaken for almost anything.

‘William?’ Angelus sounded slightly meditative, perhaps having remembered that he had been trying to be patient. He sat on the edge of the bed. ‘What’s the matter, Will?’

Will kept a sulky silence.

‘I asked you a direct question.’

Will gave another mumble.

‘Speak up.’

‘I said you don’t have to treat me like this. I’m not a bloody kid.’ He wriggled further away to the edge of the mattress. And waited alertly to see what Angelus would do.

‘No, you’re not.’ The tone was thoughtful, quiet, and Will pricked his ears at it. And a second later a gentle hand reached out and brushed at the nape of his neck. He turned slightly and looked up at his sire with a carefully calculated look of childish resentment and pleading mixed up. Angelus smiled. ‘Not in the least bit a child, my little boy. Now I do want you to learn Fyarl, Will.’

‘But why?’ Will wailed. ‘If you speak it anyway then why do I have to?’

‘But I might not always be with you, little one.’ Angelus said, though he no longer seemed quite so insistent. Will hid his smirk and treated Angelus to an alarmed frown instead. Angelus was looking smug. ‘I know you need me, Will. And I don’t plan to let you go for a very long time, but you still ought to learn. I don’t know why you are being so silly about it. You’ve only got to try.’

‘But I have been trying, Sire’ Will said miserably. Though he couldn’t resist adding, ‘You always tell me how trying I am.’

There was a soft chuckle. ‘Still the little imp, eh, my boy. Now, can’t you promise to try your very best? For me?’

Will firmly turned his back on him again, half pulling the covers off as he did so. He could almost feel Angelus looking at his now exposed rump. Then he felt Angelus get fully onto the bed and there was a tickling sensation as his night-shirt was lifted up again, only all the way that time, slowly rolled right up, and he went all floppy so Angelus could pull first one arm and then the other out, undressing him like a baby. There was the soft thump of the shirt falling to the floor, quickly followed by a second thump of Angelus’s own. Again a hand brushed along the curve of his neck, one finger trailing the length of the jugular. He arched away from it and gave a little whine, something between a whimper and a purr, nose still buried in the pillow. This resulted in a puzzled silence. Will burrowed deeper into the pillow, which necessitated much wiggling of his lower body. Then there was a throaty rumble from Angelus, and Will felt a tickle of cool breath being blown down the length of his spine, followed by a trailing tongue.

‘Little one?’

Angelus flickered his tongue down again, bringing a finger to tease enticingly between Will’s legs.

‘For me?’

Will carefully ensured he had arched up just enough that his cock was in reach, and sure enough Angelus began to massage him, until Will stretched and twisted, gnawing the inside of his mouth to keep quiet.

‘Can’t you promise?’

Angelus was stroking his length, gradually increasing the pressure to a rolling kneading caress. Will nearly bit his own tongue, his mind racing to assess his next move. But Angelus abruptly stopped. ‘William, I will not be played with.’

‘Please, Sire,’ Will stuttered. ‘Please.’

‘Please what?’ Angelus sounded genuinely bewildered.

‘Please make love to me. I’ll be good, I really will.’

There was a stunned silence and then a low chuckle. A finger came and tickled invitingly at his entrance. ‘Oh, you want me to make love to you.’ Will finally purred properly for a few seconds and spread his legs wider.

The bed rocked violently as Angelus straddled him, putting a strong hand under each leg to hoist his hips up. Then there was more rocking as Angelus reached over to the chest of drawers and the slather of him oiling his cock. Will slumped into the mattress slightly with relief, knowing that he had successfully avoided the dry entry he had been threatened with. There was even a thin cold trickle of oil being poured onto his own crack and the teasing fingers again, gradually easing him open. Angelus was licking and nibbling along the length of his spine as well, soothing him with a reassuring purr. Will breathed out, a long steady stream, forcing himself to relax as he felt the pressure increase; until at last his sire slammed in, making Will yowl as he was driven forward. Angelus pumped slow but hard, with a regular precise rhythm, purring loudly in time to it. Will moved with him, trying to feel beyond the hurt into the pleasure behind.

After a little while, when he judged the moment correct, Will gave a small squirm and a mew by way of reminder. Angelus didn’t seem to notice. ‘Sire?’ he asked, softly urgent. Angelus grunted and duly reached round, and resumed rubbing up his childe in a rather mechanical fashion. Will pressed his forehead against the pillow and deliberately waited until Angelus had pulled out slightly, then steeled himself and tensed his muscles, forcing Angelus to push harder, relaxing abruptly at the last moment so his sire flew in and hit his sweet spot full on. He gasped as the sensation sparked through his body. Angelus growled and began to speed up, his hand tightening around Will’s cock with the rhythm.

Will felt totally surrounded by the dark demon hanging over him. Cool, potent moving flesh, bare inches from his own or rubbing against him in a sheen of oil and sweat; enclosing him in a thrusting vital cage of limbs and body. Filling him. Will dug his fingers into the sheet and whined low in his throat, writhing slightly as each stroke carried him forward to the crest, to then fall tantalisingly back. At once he felt the prick of fangs against his nape, not piercing, but a light nip to hold him steady. He concentrated on the deep scent of his sire and the steady rumbling purr that tickled warm air against his skin and reverberated all through him, setting up a vibrating resonance between them that seemed to set his still blood pulsing through his veins. Until the pain began to diminish into irrelevancy and he could lose himself in nothing but the feel of his sire’s immense strength and power.

With a yelp, Will came, shaking his head and blinking. Angelus snarled, releasing his bite; and he immediately dropped Will’s cock and clasped him around the waist instead, thrusting harder and harder. Will screwed his eyes shut and tightened himself again. Scrabbling round and grabbing one of Angelus’s hands, he twined his fingers into his sire’s and gripped like mad. He began to purr as well, though he kept it quiet because he knew Angelus didn’t like too much distraction when he was coupling. Angelus brought his rough chin down to nuzzle softly just against the curve of Will’s neck. At last the master vampire increased the volume of his purr, reached his climax with a shudder, and stilled.

Angelus pulled out and rolled off.

Will flipped over and waited for a few seconds for his head to clear, then glanced at Angelus and on seeing a curt nod dutifully dived down to lick his sire clean. He did what was expected of him but then stayed there, and Angelus reached down to pet him again, purring very slightly once more. Will played with his sire’s hand, sucking on each finger in turn and trailing little circles with his tongue on the broad palm. Then, since he was in the general area, he decided to give Angelus’s cock a nibble. He started to lick and rub teasingly at the tip. Angelus seemed lost in thought. Will reached an interesting point.

And stopped.

‘Angelus, if I promise to try, can’t we take a break from Fyarl for a few days?’

‘No.’

Will swore viciously under his breath.

‘There is no need to stop what you were doing.’

Will finished apathetically and flopped back onto the pillows, gazing at the ceiling.

‘Akooahgasaaashnangbeaah?’ Angelus said.

‘The vampires won the war, Sire.’

Come home soon, Dru, Will thought. Please come home soon.

Angelus firmly pulled him against his side and wrapped an arm round him. ‘Don’t wriggle.’

‘No Sire.’

And as he drifted off to sleep, Will wondered what war they had ever won.

The next evening Will was staring at the Fyarl book again. He was seated at a small table in the corner of the drawing room, all too aware that across the room Angelus was lounging on the sofa, with Darla snuggling up at his side and a wine glass of blood at his elbow. And he knew that at the first sign of inattention Angelus would be across the intervening floor in a trice to shout at him. This had already happened three times, with a loud disapproving click of the tongue from Darla each time. He was actually doing it deliberately since it gave him an excuse to stop.

The trouble was he was now growing hungry because he hadn’t been permitted to feed. It was just possible he had already pushed the feeble pretexts to stop too far. He knew he wouldn’t be allowed out to hunt, but he was beginning to wonder when it would be a good time to ask for something from the larder. And he might have more of a chance if he could show some progress.

Will dipped his pen and copied out another line of the text and its translation, in the vain hope that the words would somehow be transmitted up the nib and into his brain. Then he put his head in his hands and gazed at them, trying to sort them into some sort of grammatical sense.

There was a loud rap at the front door and Will immediately swung round to look at his sire. Angelus took a long sip of blood, eyeing him, then lazily tilted his head back to shout. ‘Minion!’

A nervous looking minion appeared at once at the drawing room door. ‘Yes Master?’

‘Answer the front door; Master William is occupied.’

‘Yes Master.’ The minion vanished.

‘William, did I tell you you could stop?’

‘No Sire.’ Will quickly returned to his book, praying to every god whose name he could remember that Angelus would not choose to take exception to him having wondered if he should answer the door.

‘If you dream up one more excuse to stop, boy, you are going to regret it.’

The minion returned with a heavy booted tread following him. Will didn’t risk lifting his eyes from the book but he could smell leather and horse sweat, and the scent of the sea.

‘Mathias!’ Darla sounded actually pleased to see the visitor, a noticeable difference from her normal languid cynicism or giggling superciliousness. There was the customary exchange of the meaningless pleasantries that even vampires didn’t seem able to manage without.

‘William, stand up and greet our guest properly.’

‘So this is William the Bloody.’ The man was tall and lean and in demon face.

‘Yeh. Hello.’

‘I’ve heard all about you. Quite the little terror, by all accounts.’

Will allowed himself a small smirk. ‘Yeh.’

‘What are you studying?’

Will scowled. ‘Fyarl.’

‘Endahbilloasaaashganpertiououckyfel!’ Mathias instantly said, with a beam.

Will looked at him blankly. ‘Which means what, William?’ Angelus prompted, putting his hands up on Will’s shoulders in a propriatorial fashion.

‘I can speak Fyarl too, Sire.’

‘As you can see, he hasn’t got very far yet, Mathias. William,’ Angelus hissed in his ear, ‘if you are just going to guess then at least make it convincing, because you, boy, most certainly do not speak Fyarl. I think we had better leave him to it, Mathias.’

Mathias had wandered over to the table and was examining the book. ‘Really, Angelus, you aren’t making him learn from this old thing are you? Nobody should have to learn Fyarl from a book. Especially not this one! Try him on the Urbilkosheeepenidaraaaabut. Or better still send him to a verithookinoh.’ For some reason they both laughed. ‘Try a bit of the tithenailllic, eh, William!’

Will glared.

‘I’ve taught dozens of fledglings, Angelus. I’ll wager I can teach him a poem faster than that book can. How about that, William? Something a bit more fun than this dusty stuff!’

Angelus cast a calculating look at Will. ‘Well you are certainly known for your agile tongue, Mathias. If you are willing to give him a little of your time then William will be honoured.’ He pushed Will forward with a shove presumably intended to imply that he had better appreciate the honour properly. Will, who was not thrilled at being treated like a performing monkey, folded his arms and waited.

Mathias looked cocky. ‘So, William – peshitoookiyaeaasuferiiiianoah,’ he made a crude hand gesture, ‘itiigareeerioaaanuulicuus.’ He sniggered and looked very pleased with himself.

Will raised one eyebrow expectantly.

‘Come along, William,’ Mathias said, a little less confidently. ‘Peshitooo…’

‘Pish,’ Will said, then deliberately hesitated.

‘Peshitooo…’

Will gave his sire a look of helpless desperation.

‘He really doesn’t understand it, does he, Angelus,’ Mathias said, baffled.

‘No,’ Angelus said shortly. His eyes narrowed and Will quickly hid his smirk. ‘Back to your books, William.’ He shot Will a dirty look that very clearly said he did not appreciate having been thus shown up by his childe. Will trudged back to his place and the older vampires went and sat down.

‘So, Mathias, where have you been recently?’

‘Oh, here and there. Madrid. A few months in Moscow. At the Master’s lair.’

Will stopped writing.

‘And what news from there?’

‘The usual. Who’s in, who’s out, who’s had their limbs ripped off.’

‘Did you see my Drusilla at all?’

‘I did, as it happens. Two weeks ago.’

Will half turned round, looking at the visitor with desperate eyes. ‘How is she?’

Mathias regarded him. ‘Yes, I heard you and she were unusually close. She is doing well. Strong.’

‘But when’s she—’

‘William, I did not say you could stop.’

Will cast a very genuine pleading look at Angelus, but there was no sign of forbearance so he turned unhappily away.

‘Did Drusilla send any message?’ Darla asked.

‘She sent her respects to yourself and her sire, of course.’

Will stiffened, and clenched his fists when it became obvious that there had been no message for him.

‘And did she say when she was coming home?’ Darla said quietly.

‘Yes, she—’

Will knocked over the bottle of ink. He swore and tried to mop it up with his sleeve before the book was ruined, succeeding in only spreading more over the table cloth. He watched in dismay as a small stream trickled down onto the carpet.

Within half a second he had been seized by the scruff of the neck and hoisted up from his chair. ‘Out.’ He was marched to the door. ‘Send in a minion with a cloth. You can go and wait upstairs.’ And then he was hurled out into the hall and the door slammed after him.

Will went and found a minion, told her to go and clean up the mess, and then ran upstairs, hurled himself onto his bed, and buried his face in his arms. When Dru? When!

The sound of laughter drifted up from the drawing room.

After a bit he got up and cleaned himself up, choosing a fresh shirt and combing his hair. It probably wouldn’t help but a smart appearance might mollify Angelus slightly. There was a heavy tread on the stairs. He found himself staring at his sire.

‘Got anything to say for yourself?’

‘No Sire.’ There wasn’t any point: Angelus was holding a strap.

The master vampire snapped his fingers and Will went and stood in front of the chest of drawers, leaning forward slightly and bracing his weight on his hands. There was a snapping crack and he gritted his teeth as the belt came down across his shoulders.

Angelus gave him twenty-four fiery strokes in all and then snapped his fingers once more. Will straightened up and turned round.

‘Keep looking at me like that, boy, and I will give you another two dozen.’ Will dropped his eyes. Angelus though was not finished. ‘You are going to learn Fyarl, boy, whether you like it or not. And you can do it with help from me or you can do it on your own, but I will carry on until you learn it. Am I making myself clear?’

Will didn’t answer.

‘William?’

‘I can’t learn it, Sire.’ He met his sire’s eye. ‘I have tried, I truly have, but it just doesn’t make any sense. I’m not being wilful or disobedient, I just can’t do it.’

‘No, boy, you are not listening, you will learn Fyarl.’

‘I can’t!’

Angelus looked at him grimly and snapped his fingers again. Will swallowed and once more leant over the chest of drawers. He heard Angelus take a step back to get a clearer swing and the belt, when it landed, was enough to send him sprawling forwards. Angelus gave him a moment to regain his stance before hammering the strap down again.

It’s just a beating, it’s just another bloody beating, it won’t last long: the litany running through his mind all the time. He almost missed the snap of Angelus’s fingers at last, and turned round more slowly that time.

‘You will learn Fyarl.’

Will clenched his fists and bowed his head. Angelus was looking smug.

‘I won’t.’

There was a moment’s stunned surprise from Angelus and then a low and intensely menacing growl reverberated around the room. Angelus snapped his fingers. Will raised his eyes and growled back, a simple, direct and full challenge, such as he hadn’t been forced into for a very long time. The master vampire moved like a viper, grabbing Will’s arm with one hand and locking round his body with the other arm and a leg, leaning forward and pivoting so Will was lifted up and thrown onto his back. Will grabbed Angelus’s waist as he fell, trying to swing round, but Angelus moved with him and landed a punch on his stomach that drove all the air out of his lungs. Will’s fist flew up and smashed against Angelus’s groin at the same time as he tried to bite his heel tendon, and he had the satisfaction of hearing a grunt of pain. Before he could sink his fangs in, though, Angelus caught his wrist and twisted it violently, wrenching him off. Will snarled and tried to scrabble away, hoping that, if he could just gain a little distance and get back on his feet, he might be in with a chance. But Angelus, who knew perfectly well what William the Bloody was capable of if given space, pounded another fist down on his throat, and the second he had Will on the floor pinned him with a knee on his neck. ‘Not fast enough, Spike. I think we need to work on your timing again.’ Will’s eyes flared defiance, and he felt Angelus increase the pressure on his throat.

Finally Will looked away.

Angelus waited a little longer then gradually eased off and stood up. He kicked him. ‘Face down.’ Will rolled over and shut his eyes because he knew he was really in for it.

He heard Angelus walking away and then returning at a run. The strap slammed across his shoulders like a sledge hammer and pushed him right down against the hard wood of the floorboards. Angelus didn’t give him a second’s pause but started to pound the strap down repeatedly, putting the full force of his strength behind every blow. Will ducked his head under his hands and tried to curl away from the onslaught, but his sire just kicked him again and carried on.

‘Angelus!’ Darla’s voice, and her childe stopped immediately in response to it. Will heard the click of her heels across the floor. He was refusing to make a sound but it was taking a lot of effort.

‘For a spilt bottle of ink?’ she questioned.

‘He keeps saying he can’t learn Fyarl. I am showing him that he will. And boy,’ Angelus rammed Will’s face against the wood with his heel, ‘you do not use the word won’t to me.’

‘But I can’t do it,’ Will yelled. ‘I can’t. Beating me isn’t going to make any difference. I can’t and I won’t!’

There was a slight scuffling sound and Will risked a glance. Incredibly, Darla was holding Angelus’s up-raised arm, very clearly having stopped him before he could hit Will again. The two older vampires glared at each other and Will quickly dropped his eyes before they caught him watching.

After a long time Angelus’s voice came, stern but calmer. ‘You will go down to my study, William, you will turn to page one of the book and you will learn everything on that page. I am going to take Mathias out. When I come home I will test you, and then you may feed if you can show me you know it.’

Very slowly, Will picked himself up and started to walk down the stairs.

It’s only one page, he told himself. I can learn one page. Though he felt as if one single word was beyond him.

Will sat down in front of the study hearth and stared at the book. The cover was stained black all across the lower half and several of the pages were smeared as well. There was a large thumb print on the title page.

He felt like throwing the beastly thing into the fire.

One page.

The first page turned out to be an introduction, a loophole he would normally have gladly exploited but he glumly flicked through and found the start of the Fyarl section.

One page.

The page consisted of several lines of text and a table, laid out in a complicated star pattern according to a system that had probably seemed logical to the sixteenth century scholar who had devised it, but which had lost something in the three hundred years since. Will could at least recognise most of the letters by that stage though, and he picked a line at random and slowly spelt out the first vaguely recognisable word. Okim which meant ‘he’; he knew that much because Angelus had told him about twenty times. He started on the next word, which was probably something like noh-pay, but he had no idea what it meant.

Angelus came in and he quickly scrambled to his feet.

‘If you are sitting down so comfortably, I must be losing the strength in my arm,’ his sire said jovially. Will was studying the tips of his own boots. ‘Very well, I am going. You do not leave this room until you are told to. And in case your light fingered inclinations get the better of you I know exactly how many cigars there are and the level in all the decanters. Touch anything and I will break every bone in the hand that did it.’

‘May I use a pen and paper, please, Sire?’

‘Not on the floor. And not a pen. There is a pencil and some cheap paper on the desk. You may sit at that table if you wish to use them.’

‘Thank you, Sire.’

‘Right. Be good and I’ll take you hunting somewhere fun tomorrow.’

‘Thank you, Sire.’

Angelus leant over and kissed him on the forehead. ‘Be bad and you really won’t be sitting down for a month.’

‘Yes Sire. What does noh-pay mean, Sire?’

‘Neepa is the future tense of the active verb.’

‘Oh.’

‘Everything clear now?’ Angelus watched his expression and repeated slowly, ‘Neepa is the future tense of the active verb.’

‘Yes Sire. Thank you, Sire.’

Angelus shook his head and went away.

One page.

After fifteen minutes he hurled the book across the room and lay down on the hearth-rug. A few seconds later he got up with a snarl and retrieved the book. The cover had got slightly bent.

One page.

He decided to start on a different line and was relieved to see akoobh. He chewed on the end of the pencil and started on a new word.

The next time he hurled it away he was horrified when a lightning fast hand snatched out and caught it.

Darla raised her eyebrows to him. ‘Temper!’ She studied the book. ‘This is starting to look a little worse for wear.’

He looked away, very pointedly not getting up.

‘Perhaps you should take a break.’ She came and sat down beside him on the floor and actually smiled.

Will was confused. ‘W-what… I mean why…’

‘I can come and talk to you if I wish.’ Which was perfectly true, but she never did wish to. ‘Angelus is right, you know, you do fidget rather.’ The reason he was fidgeting was because his back was hurting like mad, but he was damned if he was going to tell her that. She must have suspected though, because she very gently turned him round and looked at it. From bitter experience he knew the blood would be showing through his shirt in long stripes. ‘He really did lay into you just now, didn’t he. This can’t be making it easier to concentrate.’ She eased his shirt up and Will tried not to show his amazement as, very softly but efficiently, she licked all his cuts scrupulously clean, her powerful saliva soothing them and helping them begin to heal almost instantly.

‘Thank you, Madam,’ he said quietly.

‘It’s a long time since you called me Madam as if you meant it.’

He didn’t know how to respond. She hated him. It was one of the few certainties of his existence. Nor would she ever openly say that she disagreed with Angelus’s decisions as regards his childer; and yet the implication of her presence was obvious.

‘Come along,’ she said, standing up and holding out her hand to him. ‘Come into my sitting room with me.’

He got up slowly, and let her take him by the hand and lead him into the small cosy room she reserved for her own personal use.

He had never been in Darla’s sitting room before and he looked around curiously. The decor was a pale blue, with pretty chintzes and a surprising collection of china ornaments. There were also photographs, dozens of them. Of Angelus mostly, in numerous different poses, but also of Dru, and even a few of himself. There was the one taken just before Dru left to go to the Master. She was wearing the new outfit that had been obtained for the occasion and looked very grand sitting next to Darla on a padded chaise longue with a potted palm to one side. Angelus was standing magisterially at the back with a hand on each of their shoulders, and he himself was sitting cross-legged at the front, trying not to squirm. Will wondered what the photographer had made of his strange clients.

Darla came and looked at the picture too. ‘I haven’t got many with you in, Spike,’ she said. ‘We must have another taken, some time soon.’

‘Yeh.’

‘I remember this day,’ she said. ‘We were all so proud of Drusilla.’

‘Yeh.’ He remembered it too. When they were on their way home Angelus had told him that Dru was going away.

Darla went and sat down on the sofa and patted the place beside her. ‘Come and sit, Spike. Let’s have a look at this page you have to learn.’

He regarded her coldly. ‘Why?’

She smiled sweetly. ‘Now don’t be like that, Spike. What have you got to lose?’

He looked away, frowning. He knew perfectly well what he had to lose and he did not trust her in the slightest. But one brief word to Angelus from her, saying that he had been less than perfectly respectful, and his life would not be worth living for months.

He stuck himself down beside her and opened the book. She peered over his arm and pointed at the chart. ‘What’s that first word then?’

‘Okim, meaning “he”,’ he chanted.

‘Very good. And the next?’

‘Neepa, which is the future tense of the active verb.’

‘Very well. And what does that mean?’

He didn’t say anything.

‘Spike?’

He looked at her sullenly. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Well it must mean something.’

‘Why can’t you just tell me what it means? I am getting so sick of this. If you’re only going to tell me I’m an idiot as well then at least let me go for now and you can order Angelus to punish me when he gets home. As bloody usual. You’re all the damn same, just because you find it easy you think everyone else should. Why? I don’t expect everyone to be able to do all the things I find easy. Why does everyone assume languages are different?’ He glared defiance at her. ‘And I am never going to understand it if no-one will sodding explain it. I don’t care if the subject matter is appropriate or interesting or the most boring thing on the planet. I don’t care if anyone claims it’s beautiful or tells me how exciting it is. Or threatens me, or bribes me, or tries to be nice. And most especially if everyone keeps on speaking more and more gibberish at me. None of that is going to work because I do not understand it!’

She quirked her mouth. ‘Have you finished? It so happens I can’t tell you, Spike, because I don’t know; I don’t speak Fyarl.’

‘You don’t?’ He looked at her in astonishment.

‘Not a word. But I’ve often thought I should. I thought we could learn together.’

‘Yeh, but Angelus isn’t going to thrash you for not knowing it.’

‘Well I should like to see him try! Come along. Teach me what this picture means overall then.’

He was totally bewildered by her behaviour. ‘Um… I haven’t got a clue.’

‘Didn’t Angelus explain it to you?’

‘He said it was a key, and when I asked what that meant he said it was like a grammar table. And I thought I knew what that was but this isn’t one as far as I can see.’

‘Oh. What does the rest of the book say?’

‘It’s all just long poems, apart from the introduction.’

‘And what’s in the introduction?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well don’t you think we’d better find out?’

He sighed and flicked back to it. ‘ “The Fyarl hath a ton-tongue w-which groweth forth from diverf…” ’

‘Divers,’ she smiled, correcting him.

‘I can’t even read the English!’

She lifted the book out of his hands. ‘I can. I learnt to read on books like this.’ She started to quickly read out loud. ‘ “The Fyarl hath a tongue which groweth forth from divers other tongues, which ought to prove it the most versatile of demon tongues being even at this time made up of the many sundry kinds of language following; that is to say, Urbeck, Tinchok…” Well there’s a whole list of them which I think we’ll ignore. “It being a distinction of the Fyarl form that it taketh any word from any other tongue and rendereth it forth so that it be understandable to all that do speak Fyarl.” ’

‘And totally incomprehensible to all who don’t,’ Will pointed out.

Darla laughed. ‘Perhaps he’s trying to say that you can say absolutely anything in Fyarl. That must be why Angelus is so keen for you to learn it, it must be a sort of lingua franca among demons. Well, I never knew that.’ She absent-mindedly put her arm round him. He stiffened, eyeing her sidelong, very suspicious, then allowed himself to relax slightly. She had never stopped talking. ‘Blah, blah, blah, “poetical beauteous tongue,” blah, blah, “the grammar,” here we are, Spike. “The grammar hath a wondrous nature such that it doth possess a true fixity of verbs wherefore there is need for an indicator to signify the alteration of tense.” What on earth does that mean?’

‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I think I know. That neepa word makes a verb the future tense. There must be a whole lot of verbs that are always the same but if you say neepa as well then it makes it happening in the future. That’s what he was whittering on about! And the indicator is always in the middle.’ He stuck a finger on a sentence that had neepa firmly in the middle of it. ‘There are no irregular verbs in Fyarl!’

Darla looked at him blankly. ‘That’s good is it?’

‘Very, very good,’ Will assured her. ‘I’ve just got to learn these few indicator things and I can decline every single verb in the whole ruddy language!’ He beamed at her. ‘Except I can never find the sodding verb, can I.’ He pouted again.

She ignored him. ‘Well then, we’re getting on splendidly. It is all making much more sense now.’ She tilted her head when she saw his expression. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Oh nothing,’ he said sarcastically, ‘just the small matter that I’ve got to learn the whole silly page, and I can barely understand any of the words, and there’s hundreds of them.’

She looked at him curiously. ‘Angelus only said you had to learn it, you could just memorise them.’

‘What would be the point of that? I’m supposed to be learning Fyarl, not parroting a string of rubbish.’

‘You actually are trying, aren’t you.’

‘Of course I am! I’ve been saying that for days! But the trouble with these sodding books,’ he hit it angrily, ‘is that the people who write them must be the meanest bastards in the world, whose one thought is to save paper and ink – because they never ever explain everything. They get you all excited by writing out half a conjunction and then blandly assume that the rest will materialise in your mind by magic. Why can’t the buggers just write it all out clearly in one place so I can bloody well work it out!’

‘I think,’ she said carefully, ‘that we should start by learning one line.’

‘One line’s not enough, he said the whole page.’

‘Let’s learn one line together and I’ll worry for you about the rest.’

‘Do… do you mean that? But why, Darla? Why are you—’

‘Let’s learn one line, Spike. The first one.’ She opened the page and held it out to him.

He chewed on his lip, frowning in puzzlement. She gave him a pointed look and tapped the page. He glanced down. ‘Well that one’s got nang in it, and yesterday he said that meant “won”.’

‘Good, so you know one word already. Do you know any more?’

‘Yeh. Okim and neepa and gasaaash “war”, and akoobh “vampires”, and—’

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down. I haven’t learnt as much as you. Point out nang for me.’

He stabbed at it with his finger.

‘So this part in the middle means won, does it?’ she said doubtfully.

‘Yeh.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Oh for heaven’s sake, look…’ He frowned and thought about it. ‘Bollocks!’ He sat back with a thump which instantly produced a grimace when his back hit the sofa.

‘What’s the matter, Spike?’

‘Nang doesn’t mean “won”. It’s like neepa, it’s one of these qualifier things. It must be the qualifier for the past tense. So I still haven’t found a single bloody verb.’

‘Why are the verbs so important?’

‘Because that is what languages are about. You can’t have a sentence without a verb, so finding it is the most important thing. It’s like picking out the leader in a fight so you can go for him first. Then you have to knock off the seconds in command, those are the nouns – bam, bam, bam. Then you can mop up the small fry pronouns and stuff.’

She laughed. ‘Now I wasn’t expecting that answer.’

‘People always surprise you. That’s what makes them interesting.’ He felt himself turning hot around the ears when he realised that he had just started to lecture a three-hundred-year-old vampire. He looked sidelong at her but she didn’t seem to have taken exception.

‘Well, for someone who claims not to know anything about languages, you certainly seem to know a lot about them,’ she said. ‘I’m rather impressed.’

He smirked ‘Had to learn Latin at school, didn’t I. And I managed to do that without getting thumped by Angelus every few minutes.’

She leant over and whispered in his ear. ‘Are you criticising my boy to me, Spike?’

He froze. ‘No, Madam.’

‘Good,’ she whispered. She sat up a little straighter. ‘Very well, a bit more and then I think we deserve a break. At least we know this line is in the past tense because of nang. What are the other words, I can’t read these letters.’

He gave a very heavy sigh and glared at them. ‘B… H… Bihikoo…’

‘That sounds rather long for so few letters.’

‘Well half the vowels are missing. That’s what makes it so difficult. You just have to guess.’

‘Really? Guess?’ She looked at him in astonishment. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yeh.’

‘Oh.’ She was silent for a while. Will was spelling out the rest of the line. ‘Don’t you think,’ Darla said crossly, ‘that the clever man who invented this star chart would have come up with a better way to write Fyarl than leaving out the vowels.’

Will grinned. ‘P’raps he wasn’t that clever. That star rubbish doesn’t mean anything. It must just be decoration or something.’

‘I would have thought it did mean something, he seems like a rather pedantic fool to me. I hope he met a gruesome end.’

‘Yeh, with blood and guts all sucked into the vellobea and a crowd of akoobh watching!’

‘Do you mind not making obscure jokes in Fyarl, Spike. I find them hard to follow,’ she said haughtily.

He laughed and stretched, yawning.

‘Have you worked out our sentence yet?’ she quickly asked.

‘I think the whole line is Bihikoonangkimden.’

‘And do we have any idea what that means?’

‘We do not.’

‘Then I am going to find out,’ she said determinedly, grabbing the book. ‘You can go and find us both some wine since I’m doing all the work.’

‘All right.’ He dashed out with no hesitancy.

After what was rather longer than had been strictly necessary, Will came back in, just ahead of a minion who was carrying a tray with a decanter and glasses. Darla stopped flipping through the pages and watched as he directed the vampire servant to clear a side table then pour the wine and hand her a glass in the correct fashion on a small salver. He finally sent the minion off with a grin on his face at a simple joke. Will smirked when he saw Darla’s expression, knowing that he had managed to get the minion to do everything far more quietly and efficiently than Angelus ever would have done or, for that matter, she herself could have.

Will grabbed his own glass and sat down again. ‘Any progress?’

‘A great deal,’ she said proudly. ‘I have discovered the meaning of our sentence. It means The moon was yielded to him.’

‘Absolute tommy-rot,’ he said. And after a pause, ‘Madam.’

‘It does!’ she protested.

‘Prove it.’

‘These symbols here are exactly the same as this line here.’ She showed him a line in a poem several pages further into the book. ‘And the translation for that is given as The moon was yielded to him.’

‘It is just possible you are right,’ he conceded. He looked at her sharply. ‘That was in that bloody introduction, wasn’t it.’

‘It did tell me where to look, yes.’

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously when he saw the laughter in her face. ‘What else have you found out?’

‘I, Spike, have found the verb.’

‘No! Which one is it?’

‘It’s all of them,’ she sang in a girlish voice.

‘Please Madam…’ he got off the sofa and sank to one knee dramatically in front of her. ‘Pleeeease tell me.’

Darla shook her head at his flamboyant gesture and ushered him back to his feet, then invited him to sit again. ‘The verb, Spike, is the vowels, all of them, spread out over the entire sentence.’

‘That sounds extremely unlikely.’

‘It also happens to be true. This star pattern thing here gives most of the common ones. When saying a noun on its own you put in the few vowels given, but otherwise all the vowels in a sentence come from the verb.’

‘Which is why he kept telling me you had to listen to the whole bloody sentence.’ He glanced at it briefly then slumped back. ‘Darla, can you actually speak Fyarl?’

‘No, Spike, I can’t, but I didn’t believe it when you said you just had to guess the vowels so I looked for some vowels.’

He sighed heavily. ‘Am I a complete idiot?’

‘No. But you’ve got yourself into the frame of mind where you think you can’t do it, so you panic every time you try. Most of being a vampire is confidence, Spike, whether you are trying to charm a pretty young meal off the dance floor or speak Fyarl.’

He stared into space for a while and Darla let him be. Eventually he asked quietly, ‘Can I see?’ She handed him back the book. He cross-referenced the table with the sentence and finally announced ‘Beeehuknangookimdenoua.’

‘Which means?’

‘The moon was yielded to him – according to you. Which word is which though?’

‘Well I don’t know, do I!’

He cocked his head and looked at the sentence again. ‘The verb is all the vowels. Nang makes it past tense. Okim must mean “him” as well as “he”. That leaves Beeehuk and denoua which can’t both mean “moon”.’

She stared at the page, clearly as lost as he.

‘Akooah means nothing and beaah means nothing but akoobh means “vampires”, and the vowel sounds are from the verb anyway…’

‘What are you muttering, Spike?’

‘The evil sodding bastards! They only go and split the subject noun in half and put it at each end of the sentence! “Moon” is Behukdena. Both bits!’ He snarled, considering this last bit of outrageous linguistic torture to be going one step too far.

‘Cheer up, Spike, you just did one sentence.’

‘Yeh, I suppose I did. If I can remember it.’

She slapped her hand over the page covering the words and held out her other hand for him to speak.

‘Beeehuknangookimdenoua – The moon was yielded to him. Well it’s easy when there’s only the one, what about all the rest of them?’

‘Forget about the rest. I said you only had to learn one for now. And that is…’

‘Beeehuknangookimdenoua. Which you have to admit is not beautiful poetry, it is pompous twaddle of poetry.’

She laughed and kissed him. ‘Well done, Will. What would you like to do now?’

‘Eat,’ he said instantly. ‘But are you really, really going to tell Angelus that I don’t have to learn the rest tonight?’

‘I said so, didn’t I?’

‘Well, yes… but I thought you were just trying to trick me.’

She jumped up. ‘I am going to go and find us something to feed on from the larder. You stay here and look at my photographs again, or whatever you wish.’

He nodded. ‘All right. Er, Darla…’

‘Yes Spike?’

‘Thank you – Madam.’

She smiled sweetly. ‘My pleasure, William.’

When she’d gone he stretched happily. ‘Beeehuknangookimdenoua,’ he said; and then started to idly wonder what the next sentence meant. He flipped back to the translation page, found which verb he was looking for, and tried to insert the letters. After a while he got up, found pen and paper, and began to write it out so it was all on the same sheet.

Darla, who was peering through the crack in the door, nodded quietly to herself and crept away so as not to disturb him.

When Angelus returned he was astonished to find his childe cheerfully waiting for him, obviously in a good mood and having already fed. He sniffed the air. ‘You’ve been outside tonight?’

‘Yeh. Madam let me go to the park to catch drunks.’

Angelus threw a furious look at Darla. She never interfered in his management of his fledglings, it was one of the oldest unspoken rules between them. ‘And did you finish your work before you agreed to go on this jaunt?’

‘Oh, yeh.’

Angelus wordlessly pointed to the study, and Will trooped in, still grinning.

‘Very well.’ Angelus set the strap on the desk in full view. ‘Begin.’

‘Beeehuknangookimdenoua – The moon was yielded to him…’ Will started to intone.

Angelus just stood and listened. He corrected Will’s pronunciation a few times and one or two other things, but for the most part he merely let Will talk.

‘Well, William,’ Angelus said, when the recitation was complete, ‘I think you have just proved that if you put your mind to it, you can learn Fyarl.’

Will grinned. ‘So I can feed now and go hunting with you tomorrow?’

‘Yes… yes you may. Though by the smell of it you’ve already fed. Darla again?’

Will nodded happily.

‘Hmm.’ Angelus fished thoughtfully in his pocket. ‘I’ll be willing to wager she didn’t give you this though,’ he said, and produced a pocket-knife, nicked his wrist, and held it out. Will’s eye’s widened in surprise, before he fastened on to suck. Angelus stroked Will’s hair while he fed and planted a kiss on the top of his head. ‘Isn’t it nicer when you try your best, Will?’

Will pulled off for just long enough to mumble ‘Yes Sire,’ before fastening back on.

Angelus let him feed a bit longer then called a halt. ‘That’s enough for now.’ He looked at him thoughtfully. ‘You know, since you have done so well, why not go on to something a bit more interesting?’ He reached up and pulled a book off the shelf. ‘Fyarl war chants and battle plans. Now they are worth reading—’ Will’s face fell.

There was a loud cough from the door. ‘Angelus.’

He looked up with a polite smile. ‘Yes, my love?’

‘He’s given you the moon tonight. If you want the stars as well, don’t you think you should wait until tomorrow?’

He frowned slightly and hesitated.

‘Angelus…’ She tapped her foot impatiently and gave a jerk of her head towards the stairs. He caught her meaning and winked back.

‘All right, William. We’ll leave it for now. I don’t want you too tired for when Dru comes home tomorrow.’ He laughed when he saw Will’s face explode into happiness.

‘Angelus…’

The Scourge of Europe grinned. ‘Yes of course, Sire. Coming at once, Sire. Whatever you say, Sire.’ He steered his beaming childe out of the study and firmly shut the door for the day, then watched him bound off to go and get Dru’s room ready. The older vampires climbed the stairs at a more leisurely pace. ‘Very well,’ he said, when Will was out of earshot, ‘you win; and I promise you’ll get all my attention from now on. How did you do it? You don’t even speak Fyarl?’

She smiled with the secret knowing smile of a three-hundred-year-old vampire. ‘That, my darling boy, was rather the point.’