Cain stood with his back to the tsar, his hands placed firmly on his desk and his head bent low, hanging from his shoulders. He spoke a few words in English, then raised his head. His blond hair covered his neck, and dangled over the collar of his jacket. He reached forward and picked something up. Aleksei saw it was a knife. Cain spoke again, this time in French.

‘And now, Aleksandr Pavlovich, I think we have waited long enough.’

He began to turn, holding the knife as if preparing to stab, though he still had several paces to cover to reach the tsar. The knife itself was terrifyingly familiar.

Aleksei ran from behind the curtain and shouted, ‘Your Majesty!’ Even as he did so, he recognized a tone in Cain’s voice of which there had been only a suspicion when he had been speaking in English.

Cain turned and caught sight of Aleksei. Despite the look of surprise on his face and the years that had passed, the tall physique, untidy blond hair and distant grey eyes made him unmistakable.

It was a face Aleksei had last seen as he thrust it beneath the icy surface of the river Berezina, the face of a man who should not have survived, who should have died a cold, choking death by Aleksei’s own hand, thirteen years before. It was a man more degenerate and corrupt than any voordalak.

It was Iuda.

‘LYOSHA!’

His voice was full of warmth and the happiness of reunion as he drooled over each syllable of the name, but Aleksei had seen and noted that brief flicker of surprise in Iuda’s eyes before he had time to regain his composure. The three-fingered man had arrived, and Iuda was afraid.

‘An unexpected pleasure,’ he continued. ‘What am I saying? An unexpected delight.’

‘Even less expected for me, I think,’ said Aleksei.

‘True, true. But don’t blame yourself. I was quite convinced you had me. It was pure luck that I managed to… wriggle free.’ He stroked his head, as if feeling for the gap where those few strands of hair had been ripped out to remain coiled around Aleksei’s fingers. He turned and placed the knife back on the desk. Its parallel double blades had, years before, allowed Iuda to inflict injuries that mimicked the bite of a voordalak, at a time when Iuda had been trying to pass himself off as such a creature. But Aleksei realized it could not be the knife Iuda had been using then – that had vanished for ever beneath the surface of the Berezina, as its owner should have. It would have been easy enough for him to have made another.

‘And how is Mademoiselle Dominique?’ asked Iuda. Aleksei had not thought of Domnikiia by the French version of her name for many years, but it was the only way Iuda had known her. ‘Thrown over for some newer beauty fresh from the cradle, no doubt.’

Aleksei said nothing, but either Iuda knew already, or could read his expression, or his mind.

‘Not yet then,’ said Iuda with a smile. Aleksei tried to keep Tamara from his thoughts, for fear that Iuda could indeed read them, but the beautiful red-headed girl rushed into his consciousness. Iuda made no comment, and Aleksei dismissed his paranoia.

‘Are you all right, Your Majesty?’ he said, turning to the tsar.

Aleksandr stood up. He looked pale and shocked. He nodded thoughtfully to himself. ‘Yes, yes, Colonel. I’m very well.’ He seemed to grow more confident of it as he spoke. ‘You know this man?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ said Aleksei.

‘Some friends of mine and I helped Aleksei to save your country back in 1812,’ said Iuda airily. ‘Then he turned against us. I was the only survivor.’ His tone didn’t waver.

The tsar looked over at Aleksei, who gave a slight shake of his head. Nothing that Iuda had said was false, but it would take too long to explain what had really happened.

‘I think you should leave, Your Majesty. They’re looking for you. You know the way out?’

The tsar nodded. ‘I think I can remember it,’ he said.

Another scream echoed from the tunnel down which Aleksei had come. Evidently the tattooed voordalak had lost the battle to master its pain.

‘And tell Dr Wylie he can stop now,’ Aleksei added. The tsar looked questioningly. ‘He’ll understand,’ said Aleksei.

Aleksandr walked across the cavern and exited by another doorway. Aleksei was pleased – he did not want the tsar to have to pass by what he had seen. There could be equal horrors down that path too, but if so, Aleksandr would at least already have seen them. It was a risk to let him go unaccompanied, but Aleksei had business to attend to with Iuda alone.

‘So, is Cain your real name?’ he asked, sitting where the tsar had been. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, but still his two swords were ready to strike, and he felt the pistol nestling in his tunic.

‘It’s a name many know me by.’ Iuda leaned back against his desk.

‘In England?’

Iuda nodded. ‘Yes. I am the real Richard Llywelyn Cain, to the extent that such a person exists.’

‘But it’s not the name you were born with – simply one you chose to use when dealing with the Romanovs.’

Iuda looked at Aleksei, seemingly trying to judge how much he knew. In reality, Aleksei had no idea what had been going on between the tsar and his captor, but anything that might make Iuda wary could be helpful.

‘I am known by many names.’ He looked at Aleksei pointedly as he stressed the word ‘many’. ‘But of them all, you know, I think Iuda is my favourite.’ He sighed. ‘Happy memories.’

‘I should have seen the link,’ said Aleksei.

‘Cain and Iuda? An Old Testament murderer and a New Testament traitor? I suppose there’s a connection, but I can’t take all the credit. The name Iuda was chosen for me.’ He looked away, pondering the question.

‘I think I preferred Iuda,’ said Aleksei, ‘the man, not the name. I presume you are still a man?’

‘And not a vampire? As we discussed some years ago, I’m not sure I really see the benefits of such an existence. Though if I did, I would have no qualms about changing my… lifestyle. But I’m scarcely older than you, Lyosha; not yet fifty. One day, perhaps, it will be a better state in which to exist, though I have my doubts. When faced with death, I may see things differently, but I have plenty of time before I need to consider how I’m going to deal with my own mortality.’

‘Prove it.’ Aleksei had long ago learned that Iuda lied with much the same frequency as he spoke. If he were in fact a voordalak, and Aleksei judged him to be human, the consequences might prove fatal.

‘That I’m not a vampire? How?’

Aleksei looked back at Iuda, then held out the two swords in his hands – one wooden, one steel. ‘These should discriminate,’ he said.

Iuda swallowed with mocking exaggeration. ‘I don’t think we need to go that far,’ he said. He turned slightly and picked up the knife with which he had been menacing the tsar. Its two blades were sharp. He held his left hand upright, its palm facing towards Aleksei, and moved the knife towards it. For a moment Aleksei thought he was going to witness a repeat of Kyesha’s demonstration in Saint Vasiliy’s – but in that instance the intent had been to demonstrate that Kyesha was a vampire.

Iuda’s performance was somewhat more restrained; a tiny scratch, just along the outside of his palm. The blood ran down his wrist and disappeared beneath his cuff.

‘“If you prick us, do we not bleed?”’ said Iuda. ‘We certainly don’t heal, as they do.’

Aleksei shook his head. ‘Not good enough, I’m afraid. I know a voordalak can hold off regrowth if need be. I’ve read your book, remember?’

Iuda raised both his eyebrows, then smiled benevolently. Damn it! thought Aleksei. Iuda hadn’t known he had the book.

‘So that’s where it got to,’ said Iuda. ‘But you’re right; it’s a poor proof.’ He put his hand to his lips to clean the blood. It was an ordinary enough action, but it seemed deliberately intended to cast further doubt into Aleksei’s mind. Iuda walked over to a high bookcase he had somehow assembled there, deep underground. A ladder lay against it, allowing access to the upper shelves. Iuda climbed the ladder but ignored the books, instead reaching out for a cord that stretched out up to the cavern’s ceiling. He tugged at it and above the shelves a curtain was pulled back, allowing Aleksei to see the sky.