Well, until the next war between land-hungry empires brought soldiers, mercenaries, and raiders stampeding through the Balkans on yet another destructive rampage. But such mundane disasters were the responsibility of the mundane authorities. For those who dealt with Evil of a more esoteric nature, the work in Kisilova was done.

While he sat admiring the dramatic colors streaking across the sky, thanks to a setting sun that created no looming sense of dread this evening, he saw Radvila appear on the ridge below him. The Lithuanian waved to him and continued climbing to this spot, moving with an agility that belied his (as Max had learned) sixty-four years. The vigorous constitution of a vampire was a remarkable thing. Max could understand how one might be tempted to become made—if one weren’t thoroughly dissuaded by the dietary requirements.

As Radvila reached his side, not even breathing hard from his climb to this elevated spot, a chill wind whipped across the hilltop, making Max shiver a little.

“Winter is coming,” said Radvila, sitting down beside him on an old log.

“But now the people of Kisilova don’t need to fear the nights growing longer.”

“Indeed.”

Max caught a strong whiff of alcohol and eyed his friend. The village was planning to spend the evening celebrating the end of the vampire epidemic here. Based on Radvila’s interesting scent, Max guessed that the festivities had already begun—and that Radvila had been imbibing the local brew.

“This is quite a view,” the vampire said, gazing across the landscape.

Max nodded. “I feel almost as if I can see into the future from this spot.”

“And what do you see, magician?”

“I believe I see the vampire epidemic ending before long.”

They had made a great deal of progress in the months since the Lithuanians had entered the fight. Many areas of the region were now entirely rid of the undead.

“I could have told you that without climbing this hill,” Radvila grumbled. “I see the epidemic ending before you return in the spring.”

“Why did you climb this hill?”

“The celebration has begun.” Radvila gestured to the village below. “I have been tasked with finding you so that the people may honor you.”

Having been through such festivities in several other villages by now, Max said wryly, “If I attend another celebration, my stomach may return to being ill-humored.” His digestive problems had gradually disappeared after hope had returned in the war against the undead; but he feared that yet another robust village soirée might cause a setback. “Perhaps I’ll remain here.”

“My comrades have informed me they will not endure this test of strength alone,” Radvila said gravely. “They say you must come. It would be unfair for you to escape this, since you’re leaving for Vienna tomorrow. Whereas we will remain in Serbia through the winter to fight more of the undead and will probably have to be honored several more times before our work is done.”

“Oh, very well,” said Max. “But you must not let me eat and drink too much this time, or my horse shall have to drag me on a litter tomorrow.”

“Hmph.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, watching the setting sun.

Then Radvila asked, “How far is the journey to Vienna?”

“Well, not nearly as far as Vilnius,” Max said. “Nor is the journey as hazardous. But it is far enough.” He thought of the glittering imperial capital and mused, “It will be like a different world after my sojourn here. I imagine I shall feel very strange there, at first, though I know the city well.”

“I would like to see Vienna,” Radvila said. “I would have liked to travel more. My father sent me to study in Warsaw when I was young, and I once went to Stockholm with a cousin who traded amber and silver. But I have not otherwise been out of Lithuania. Not until I came here.” He added, “And this has certainly not been a journey of personal enrichment—apart from your friendship, Maximillian.”

“Thank you,” Max said, touched.

“Yes, I would have liked to travel more,” Radvila repeated as the wind toyed with his gray hair. “One always thinks there will be more time, but the years pass so quickly. Life goes by and, before you know it, you’re an old man, and the things you might do one day have become the things you never did.” He shook his head. “You’re too young to understand this yet.”

“Oh, not really,” Max said, guiltily aware that he had already lived longer than Radvila, and that he would, if he continued surviving his adversaries, have many more years—perhaps centuries, for all he knew—to learn, to travel, and to enrich his life with new friendships. “I think I understand.”

“I have no regrets.” Radvila gazed reflectively at the setting sun. “I have a fine family and a good place in the world, and I was born a vampire. It’s enough for one man.” He smiled. “But I would have liked to see Vienna.”

“Perhaps you shall,” Max replied. “Perhaps you will come visit me there.”

Radvila shook his head. “The time for that has passed. I have too many responsibilities at home, and I’ll be gone from there until our work here is done and you return with a delegation to sign the treaty.” He added ruefully, “Also, I am getting old. This journey has been hard on me.”

“Perhaps it is nightly battling the undead which has been hard on you,” Max suggested.

“That, too,” Radvila agreed. “But I think this will be my last journey. And my last campaign against the undead. The time fast approaches for me to leave this work to those who are younger than I. My old bones are complaining about the physical conditions of a vampire hunter’s life.”

“Even my bones are complaining,” Max said. “I am not sorry to bid farewell to my days—and nights—as a vampire hunter.”

“What will you do next? After we meet in Belgrade, that is. After this is all over.”

“I don’t know,” Max said, surprised to realize he hadn’t thought about the future yet. Ever since coming to Serbia, he had grown used to thinking he probably didn’t have one.

“Perhaps you will do the traveling that I did not,” Radvila said, the alcohol on his breath evidently fueling an uncharacteristic bout of whimsy. “I believe you will venture farther than I ever dreamed of going—farther even than you dream.”

“What makes you say that?” Max asked curiously.

“You seem like a man with a restless thirst for knowledge. As if you are on a quest to gain worldly wisdom.”

“I have my quest,” Max said. “Confronting Evil.”

“I can see into the future from this hilltop, too, you know.” Radvila nudged him with an elbow. “And I see that you will live long, help many people, and travel far. Who knows ... perhaps you shall even travel all the way to the New World one day—whose wonders even vampires in Vilnius have heard about.”

“The New World?” Max repeated with a smile, wondering just how much Radvila had been drinking. “That is far.”

“It’s another place I would very much have liked to see, if I had more than just this one life to live.” Radvila said wistfully, “Think about it, Maximillian. The New World. How exciting that sounds!”

“Yes.” Someday, perhaps ... Feeling a little whimsical, too, he asked, “Do you suppose they have Evil there?”

“Ah, my friend,” said the grizzled vampire. “I suspect they have Evil everywhere.”