Beethoven - Scourge of Vampires [ONC 2022]

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Bernhard had never thought himself a great drinker, though he had suffered many a drunken night amongst his fellow cavalry officers, especially after the end of the war, in 1815. He had never, to his recollection, drunk as much as he had the night before. A never-ending stream of beer filled mugs, the foam slopping over the sides, appeared at the table he shared with the Maestro and they had drunk each and every one.

He couldn't remember the point at which he gave up all hope of keeping pace with Beethoven, yet one last memory, of the great man linking arms with several beauties, male and female, while singing folk songs together. After that, everything became a blur and Bernhard could not remember how he had managed to return home.

Except, he was not at home. There were no thick sheets covering him and he felt the press of far too much light upon his eyelids than the small windows of his home would allow in. The air, also, felt fresh and bereft of the normal stench of Vienna's fine and beautiful streets. And, if he listened carefully, he could hear birdsong, welcoming him to a new day.

That birdsong, however, became drowned out by the hooting and hollering of voices nearby. Loudest among them a voice he remembered from the night before. The Maestro. Ludwig van Beethoven himself. Composer for kings and queens. A man that could make people weep with a single bar of piano notes.

Gambling and making donkey noises in the face of his opponents. Bernhard tried to push himself up from the straw that stuck to his head and tried to work out where he was. Even after his blurred eyes stared for several minutes in all directions, he still could not tell where it was that he had awoken to.

"That's mine, eh? You want some more, sunshine?" The Maestro gathered up a bunch of coins, piling them before him. "It's easy if you know how. Watch the lady. Keep your eyes wide open. Where she lands could win you twice your bet."

The man's greying hair bobbed as he stared at his own hands. Between fingertips, the cards flashed as he moved them around in a seemingly random fashion. The other two men glared at those hands, watching every movement as though their lives depended on it and, when the Maestro stopped moving the cards, both men tapped upon the middle of the three.

"That one!" The man kept his finger on the card, stopping Beethoven from turning it over. "But I want to turn it over this time."

"Do what you like. Beety don't cheat. Least, not at cards, eh?" Beethoven grinned at the man, then saw Bernhard awake and gave him a wink. "You think it's the middle one? Is he right, ladies and gents? Ooh! Unlucky!"

The man had turned over the card, revealing the ace of clubs. Then he turned over the card on the left, revealing the ace of spades and then the one on the right. The queen of hearts. Disgusted with his luck, the man threw the card onto the straw, pushed the other man aside and then turned his back, hugging himself with his arms as he laid down on the straw, grumbling.

Bernhard sat upright and rubbed his eyes. He felt a little more awake, now, and could see exactly where he was. In the back of a cart, heading west, away from the great city of Vienna. There, in the distance, he saw the buildings of his home dwindling into the distance. Somehow, the Maestro had managed to steal him away in the night.

"Maestro. I can't be here." He began to shift towards the back of the cart and his stomach rolled and he felt his head begin to pound. "I have to inform my beloved's family of her demise. I must tell them of the foul creature that took her from us."

"Oof. Wouldn't recommend it, mate, eh." The Maestro made an exaggerated grimace, tilting his head as he picked up his winnings and dropping them in his coin pouch. "No. You're best away from all that. Apparently, you were the last person seen with her. Carrying her in your arms."