In Burning Shadows, Chelsea Quinn Yarbro re-introduces her historic vampire, Count Saint-Germain Rakoczy or as he is known in this incarnation, Dom Feranescus Rakoczy Sanctu Germainios, regional foreign guardian of Apulum Inferior. The novel takes place in a time of great upheaval; Europe is the stage, and the terrifying advance of Attila and his pillaging force of Huns is the backdrop for another brilliant Yarbro period fiction.
The novel opens with Rakoczy, Yarbro’s eminently enigmatic vampire working overtime to get Bondama Olivia Clemens to relinquish her estates that lie in the path of the advancing Huns. Olivia, who has been reborn as a member of the Rakoczy blood, has had more than several human lifetimes to experience the cruelty of man, and the abusive control of the Roman Bishops. Should she run and open herself up to all the problems a single woman faces in a world totally controlled by men, or remain with Rakoczy and possibly face the “True Death”? Yarbro continues in Burning Shadows to remind the reader that women were unjustly treated and that women’s rights were nearly nonexistent for the greater part of human history. This is a theme that is present in most of her work, and when you consider that Olivia has the special talents of a vampire and is still unable to avoid the savage totalitarian control of greedy ubiquitous officials, it makes Yarbro’s point crystal clear. There is no escaping her conclusion that today, in a vast area of the world not much has changed, thus making Yarbro a true champion for the rights of women.
Huns, like most barbarians moving towards Europe, were known as raiders and looters. Attila, however, was something different. His advance was more Roman in nature, with intentions of conquest and establishing an empire his primary goal. Thus the usual method of exchanging gold or other assets to be left alone was no longer working, and flight seemed the only viable option. Rakoczy’s long history allowed him to anticipate these changing times long before the arrival of the advancing Huns. Firstly, he feels obligated to help Rhea Penthekrassi, his current lover, or rather his current and only source of substance, to escape to the safety of Constantinople. Rakoczy, a truly unique vampire, is more concerned about the human frailties of those who enter his sphere of influence than his own well being. Thusly, he sends Rhea away, in the company of his personal ghoul, Rugierus, as her protector, and provides her with a vast array of jewels created in a magical contraption called an “Athanor” to hopefully save her the indignity of becoming a concubine or lesser wife of some barbarian. Further, he sets in motion an elaborate plan to move all those in his charge, servants and many of those remaining in Apulum Inferior, to the relative safety of a distant monastery, Sanctu-Eustachion the Hermit. There is definitely no confusing Yarbro’s vampire with Bram Stoker’s archetypal Count Dracula, and it appears that today’s current trend is beginning to follow her lead, making vampires both protectors of humankind as well as heroes with an acceptable taste for blood without death.
As preparations are made for the flight of some four hundred human souls and one vampire, Yarbro introduces Nicoris, a mysterious female refugee, who attracts the attention of Rakoczy, who finds her enticing, with an underlying hint of danger that arouses him all the more. Nicoris for her part also begins to wonder as she intently scrutinizes Rakoczy, but his compelling presence is beginning to overwhelm her self-possession, and both are warily careful. Their relationship is inevitable, and Nicoris becomes Rakoczy’s newest “blood lover” as well as his helper in the healing arts. Yarbro uses their fractious relationship as a door to Rakoczy’s past, allowing the reader to learn important details that make the novel a much completer work. Yarbro has mastered the talent for making each incarnation of the Count Saint-Germain series a complete novel that stands on its own, allowing the casual reader to feel totally satisfied. However, after reading several in the series, a subtle formula becomes apparent, and some of the themes and plot twists become familiar. This is both annoying in its simplicity, and enjoyable in the way an old sweater brings remembered comfort. In fact, not actually meeting Attila in person in this novel, as we have met so many of other historical greats in the past novels, was somehow both refreshing and disappointing at the same time.
Nicoris is another refreshing Yarbro creation, as she is a true foil for the usually unflappable Rakoczy; when he reveals his confusion with her “beneficent pragmatism and unusual directness” with her unwillingness to tell him the truth about herself, we sympathize with him, and Yarbro allows a rare crack in his character, which at times is too perfect even for the ultimate hero.
Burning Shadows at its core is a novel about trust and treachery. Rakoczy, over the centuries, has honed his skills both as a surgeon and as an herbalist adept in using remedies both folk and scientific. His mastery of antibiotics made from moldy bread, to numerous forms of painkillers is mesmerizing. Yarbro deftly pictures the early Christian church’s strictures against surgery, showing how powerful is the mistrust Christianity has for science. The dichotomy of the rational vampire to the mystical beliefs of the clergy puts Rakoczy in a position to either do good and trust that empirical events will win out over the blind faith in dogma, or allow rank prejudices to create needless suffering. Fight or run, share or hoard, trust in prayer as their only salvation as the monks believe or follow the lead of the strange foreigner who believes in administering love and care to your fellow man. Who and what to trust is the burning question in 430 AD, and to Yarbro’s thinking, the same questions must surely apply to our perhaps advanced society, and certainly more complex world of today.
In the end, Yarbro has created another poetic period piece filled with multidimensional characters and lush imagery, played out on the vast canvas of historical fiction. It is a compelling mix of supernatural horror, erotic romance, and an intriguing look at history. The story is driven by its characters, focusing on human behavior, the best and the worst that humanity has to offer. It is a thought-provoking ride that gets better as it goes along, and I recommend this novel to both the novice Yarbro reader and those who just can’t get enough of the Saint-Germain saga.
