The Curse of the Eberbachs

To lighten his love's mood a bit after the tantrum Klaus had thrown when Dorian revealed that he knew the missing scientist's whereabouts, the Earl had suggested a walk in the vast grounds surrounding Castle Gloria. Klaus had agreed, but insisted first that Dorian phone Z again with the information on Patrick Retty. While Dorian made that second phone call, he had torn to shreds a few of the sofa cushions and the Earl's silken pyjamas. That would teach the fop to keep information from him in the future.

Outside, he ran for a while. Pure speed and power. Pure joy of life, enjoying all the exciting smells. Dorian soon lost sight of him. He would not go running with the dog, because he was still a bit sulky about the cushions and the pyjamas.

But it was not in his nature to sulk for long. The day was too beautiful to be annoyed over such minor drawbacks. Not too hot; not too cold. He was walking through a small patch of wood. A light breeze ruffled his hair and made the sunlight paint ever-changing patterns on the path. Klaus was nowhere to be seen, although he heard him rustle in the distance. The sound came closer, and the large dog broke out of the underbrush right in front of him before tearing away again. Dorian was not worried about letting the dog run around unleashed. He had in person informed his groundskeeper, Mr Witherspoon, and his employees about "Major", so no one would mistake him for a stray and possibly shoot him. What worried Dorian more was that Klaus wanted to be with them when the Alphabet, led by Z, and the Earl would free Retty this very night ... A dog's nose would be very helpful in sniffing out where in the building the Russians kept the scientist, and he had powerful jaws and sharp teeth, but somehow Dorian had scruples about bringing an "innocent animal" to the battlefield. However, if he said anything more about the subject, Klaus would even more stubbornly insist on accompanying them. It was his mission after all ... Dorian decided he had said enough already.

The Major enjoyed himself. Sometimes it might not be so bad to be a dog, just running around, feeling the strength of your body, just enjoying the moment without any worries or thoughts of tomorrow ... However ...

That damn stupid idiot! Flirting with Z on the phone and forgetting the most important facts! I don't get it! And then objecting to me going with them to finish the mission!

He would be there, though, he would sniff out the Russian hideaway in the old warehouse near the London Docks ... but for the moment he was quite happy running around in the woods ... His paws didn't give him any more trouble, the gash from the barbed wire was no more than a memory, and even the bite in his flank did not keep him from running and taking in all these exciting smells – green and blossoms; sheep and cows; rabbits, squirrels; something bigger, living underground, a badger perhaps; water, birds, traces of humans –

A new smell hit him with a vengeance. It was different ... wild and sweet, overwhelming. And it spoke of –

Again something in his brain clicked, like when he had seen the ducks at the lake in the park at Ashford, and he ran, ran, ran, following that wonderful, luring smell, which spoke of need: a burning need to bury himself in the source of that smell until he would be satiated ... He reached the origin of the smell, and his human brain took over again. He saw her with human eyes: An aristocratic-looking bitch, tall and long-legged, with flapping ears and a thin, long tail; a wide chest and a short, light grey coat. Before she could say hello to the attractive male Doberman, who seemingly had appeared from nowhere, her potential suitor tore around and ran away as if the demons of hell were at his heels.

While running, the Major heard the bitch follow him; her exciting smell did not diminish, and damn, the canine lady could run! He heard the sharp sound of a whistle, and then the yell of a female human voice, no less sharply: "Nausicaa!"

To his utter relief the female dog was very well trained. Hearing the voice of her mistress, she stopped dead in her tracks. The Major ran on, back to Dorian's familiar smell, and found himself pushing his head between Dorian's knees, shivering ...

"My God, what is it, Darling? What?" Dorian was beside himself with worry, stroking the shivering Doberman's back. He looked around. Far off in the direction from which Klaus had come, he could see the tall, skinny shapes of a human and a long-legged dog, drawn behind on a leash.

"Hm. My immediate neighbour, Lady Fentimore. Walking Nausicaa on my grounds again. Witherspoon would have a fit if I told him."

"We should go home and have a rest," the Major interjected testily, shaking off the stroking hand. "After all, we'll have important things to do tonight."

"Nausicaa is such a kind and friendly dog," Dorian continued. "Her mistress is a fright, though. Thank goodness her daughter knew better than being after me. But what has shocked you so, Darling? It can't be that she tried to hit you –"

"Nonsense!" the Major snapped. "There was that smell. I can even smell it now. it made me run to her ..."

"I take it you are talking about Nausicaa," he finally said with a slight smile. "She must be in heat, then. My dear, that was the voice of nature –"

Klaus growled deep in his chest. Was there a certain mocking glee in the Fop's tone? The impertinent bastard was making fun of him!

"One more word, and you'll hear another voice of nature," the Major warned. "That of pain!"

Throwing his head back, golden curls flying in the sunlight, Dorian strode back to the castle, not caring for once whether the Major followed or not.