Mike Mignola - Baltimore, Or, The Steadfast Tin Soldier and the Vampire

by Mike Mignola & Christopher Golden

THE SAILOR'S TALE SANCTUS ______ "On the table where they were being set up were other toys, but the chief thing which caught the eye was a delightful paper castle. It was altogether charming, but the prettiest thing of all was a little maiden standing at the open door..." The Steadfast Tin Soldier by Hans Christian Andersen

Aischros sat forward in his chair and studied Doctor Rose, transfixed by his tale. The wood creaked beneath him. Decades at sea had made him lean but thickly muscled, and he had been tall and broad to begin with. The chair seemed barely up to the task of holding him.

Childress had his elbows on the table, chin resting atop steepled fingers, and he regarded Doctor Rose with grim interest. For his part, the doctor seemed unburdened now, having told his tale, and he set down the wooden matchbox he had been tapping through the telling.

When neither Aischros nor Childress questioned him further, Doctor Rose stubbed out his cigarette.

"Now then, Demetrius, shall we have the serving girl fetch us something to fill our bellies?" the doctor asked.

The mariner arched an eyebrow. After the story the man had just told, it seemed quite surreal that none of them remarked upon the strangeness of it. Had three other men been gathered there, surely such a conversation would have taken place. But Aischros knew that Lord Baltimore had called him and the others together for a reason.

Aischros nodded. "Poultry, Doctor. Whatever they have. I find savory pies suspect, because cooks can hide anything in them. And I don't imagine the steak here is anything less than burnt black. However dry a piece of chicken might be, though, salt can cure it."

"Very good," Doctor Rose replied, standing, clutching the matchbox in his left hand. "And you, Mister Childress? Have you changed your mind?"

Childress seemed to come awake. He sat up and smoothed the front of his coat, and straightened his tie. Aischros thought that the color in his tie seemed somehow less vivid than when he had first joined the men at the table. Perhaps it was the lengthening shadows of afternoon, or perhaps simply the effect of lingering too long in such a dreadful place.

"You know," Childress said, "I think I will have a bite, after all. I gather all three of us are patient enough to wait until Henry arrives or the innkeeper ejects us. If you gentlemen are going to dine now, I might as well join you. Some sort of stew, for me, I think. There's little chance of it being hot, but it will, at least, not be burnt."

Doctor Rose smiled, inclined his head, then turned to seek out the serving girl.

"Do you believe him?" Childress asked, when Doctor Rose was out of earshot.

Aischros narrowed his eyes. "Don't you?"

He rose, needing to stretch. Bones popped in his back and shoulders and he let his head roll, loosening the muscles in his neck.

"Another ale?" Aischros asked.

Childress gazed balefully at his glass a moment, then looked up. "By all means. It's awful, but perhaps if I drink enough, this place will not seem so sepulchral."

Aischros laughed. "Maybe. And maybe it will only grow more so."

"Pleasant bloody thought," Childress muttered.

The mariner shook his head in amusement, and went to pick up another round of drinks from the bar. This time, there would be no whiskey for him. As he sipped, it began to taste more like mule piss, instead of less. Ale all around, then, and flavor be damned.

When he returned, Doctor Rose and Childress were in the midst of conversation. Aischros slid the glasses of ale onto the rough tabletop and took his seat, the wood creaking another warning. His companions had interrupted their conversation upon his approach and now they turned to regard him in silence. Cigarette clutched in his ruined hand, the scar tissue over the stumps of Doctor Rose's missing fingers shone a ghostly white.

"What is it?" the mariner asked, troubled by their scrutiny.

Doctor Rose leaned back, as comfortable now in the rigid wooden chair as a sheik upon a bed of velvet pillows. "You've already said that Baltimore entered your company after departing mine. Mister Childress and I were hoping you would share the story of your travels together."

Aischros drained a third of his ale, then set the glass down. He was pleased to see that it was cold enough to begin a ring of condensation on the wood. Even so, it had no flavor. He dragged the back of his right hand over his stubbled chin and his mouth, wiping away a thin film of ale. It had no froth, for it was flat.

He ran his hands over the pitted, scarred table, then settled more deeply into his chair.

"By the time I carried Lord Baltimore back from the war aboard my ship, I'd had my fill of those ruined men and their dead eyes. He was one of them, yes, but there was something different about him. He seemed somehow apart from the other wounded men on that journey. They kept away from him as much as the cramped confines of my ship would allow, but they didn't appear to be aware of this. The man had a strange light in his eyes, my friends, and at night he insisted he be kept on deck so that he could watch the sky, as if afraid some attack would come from above.

"I asked him, that first night, what he was looking for. 'Kites,' he said. Only later did I understand what had him so frightened. All those years ago, I thought it was just shattered nerves. Despite his injuries and his missing leg, the morning seemed to rejuvenate him. As his fellow soldiers still gave him a wide berth, I struck up a conversation with him.

"With the sun high and warm and the sea shining blue, Lord Baltimore behaved differently. He seemed of good cheer, hopeful, and eager to return to England and his home. He knew a hospital in London where he believed he would be able to acquire a wooden leg, and he thought to travel there and rest a while before returning to the island on the Cornish coast that was his ancestral home.

"It had been a very long time since I had visited London, and I had never explored farther north by land. Most of England was unknown to me. The sea had been my life, and I knew I would never leave it for very long, but the idea of leaving my mission behind for a time and visiting a place where there were people who were not killing and dying every day was a powerful temptation.

"I shared these thoughts with Lord Baltimore on the third day at sea. Though the sun shone brightly and the sky was clear, he cast an anxious glance skyward.

" 'Demetrius,' he said, 'it will be no easy task for a one-legged man to travel to London. If you'll give over command of your boat to your mate for a while, I'd be grateful for your company on my travels.' "

Captain Aischros shifted in his creaking chair. Doctor Rose and Mister Childress had listened to this part of his tale without taking so much as a sip of their ale.

"He was afraid," Childress said quietly.

Doctor Rose slowly nodded his assent. "When the curtain of the world is pulled back and we realize how much of what lies behind it is unknown to us, fear is the only rational response."