“I will get you money today.”
“Aye, that is what you said yesterday and the day before that, as a matter of fact. You will get nothing more from me until I have money right here.” Petru jabbed at his palm with his index finger.
A man sitting in a dark corner of the room spoke, “I will pay for the boy's mead, Petru. Make it two.” The stranger motioned for Teller to join him.
Teller cautiously approached. He surveyed his surroundings for any signs of danger. There was only a handful of old-timers sitting around sipping meads and ales. He reluctantly took a seat across from the stranger.
“My name is Sergiu.” He held out his hand in greeting.
Teller took his hand, only to find that it was as cold as his. Teller looked at him with surprise and the stranger gave Teller a knowing nod.
“And what do you call yourself?” The stranger had to ask as Teller had not offered his name.
“Vlad,” Teller replied. It was the first name that came to mind. He was not entirely sure why he chose it. He supposed it was because it reminded him of the male version of Vallachia or Val.
“Oh, Teller,” Petru yelled across the room. “Before I forget, a man came in here yesterday lookin’ for ya, while you were out. Said he was trying to find his son. Called himself Ivan; that mean anything to you?”
“No. Just get us some mead, Petru.” At least Father cared enough to look for me, Teller thought.
“Teller, eh?” Sergiu questioned.
“Not anymore.”
The stranger nodded in understanding. “Well, Vlad is a better name.”
“What do you want?”
“I only want to help you.” Sergiu issued a friendly smile.
The stranger had a kind face, yet Teller was not entirely sure he could trust the man. He narrowed his eyes. “Help me? What makes you think I need help?”
“It is time you wake up. Look around you, boy. You cannot live like this forever. Listen to what people are saying about you,” Sergiu glanced toward two old men seated by a window.
One of them was saying, “What a waste — a handsome boy like that already a no good drunkard.”
“He should be out working, raising a family, doing what normal young men do,” the other old man added.
“What is your point? I’m not a normal man anymore,” Teller said.
“I’m well aware of that. I have been watching you for some time. We are vampires and there are no limits for us. You could be anything — become anyone. I don’t like to watch others waste their lives.”
“Then stop watching me.”
“The locals are also beginning to suspect your involvement in the disappearance of the ladies of the night. You should be warned that if you keep this up you will gain the attention of the High Court of Elders.”
“Who in hell are they and what do they have to do with me?”
Chapter 12 Wallachia 1262 A.D
“The High Court of Elders will have everything to do with you if you don’t pull yourself together. They will kill you in an instant,” Sergiu informed Teller.
“Good. Then this miserable life would be over.” Teller’s voice was monotone. He had not a care in the world. He was incapable of feeling anything but hopelessness. “I don’t even know what year it is and I do not care.”
Petru brought them two mugs of mead and retreated. “Thank you,” Sergiu said loudly to Petru, then to Teller he spoke softly, “You are worse off than I originally thought. The year is 1262.”
Teller could not believe it. He had been in Targoviste an entire year and did not remember most of it.
“Believe me I know it is difficult in the beginning,” Sergiu continued, “but you will get better at controlling your thirst. You will start to see this life for what it truly is — a gift. I implore you not to waste it. You can be so much more than you are now. You can be anything you aspire to be. You must have something to live for?”
Vallachia’s perfect face with her large crystal-blue eyes appeared in his mind and he shook his head. “Not anymore.”
“Then forget your past, make a new future. Find a new reason to live.”
There will never be another Vallachia, he thought. “Why do you care so much? I mean, why bother with me? It would be easier to let me waste away until this Court or whatever it is, finds me and kills me.”
“I see potential in you. You could be great. Besides, what makes this life worthwhile for me is helping my fellow vampires. What brings me pleasure is saving my kind from being killed by Lord Chastellain’s Court.”
At the mention of the name Chastellain, Teller sat up straight in his chair, finally interested in the conversation. “What did you say?”
“Lord Chastellain and his son. They swiftly and mercilessly kill vampires who reveal their true nature to humans.”
“You are telling me that Lord Chastellain is the leader of our kind!”
“The undisputed leader, yes. It appears you have heard of him.”
“This day could not possibly get any worse. Why am I not surprised?” Teller simply had to ask, “There is a lady, her name is Vallachia, have you heard of her?”
“Aye, yes. I have only heard rumors of her beauty. She is to marry the young lord, so it is said. Though there has not been any formal engagement announcement, which leaves some to speculate that the lovely young Lady of the Court is the prince’s current mistress. What is his name?” Sergiu looked thoughtful.
Hot blood rushed to Teller’s face. “Elijah,” he said through gritted teeth.
“That is right.” Sergiu looked pleased but grew concerned when he saw Teller’s face.
“Are you sure — Vallachia is with Elijah?”
“Of course, everyone in our world knows this.”
Teller could no longer contain himself. He let out a yell of frustration. The chair legs scraped noisily against the floor as he stood. He threw the terra-cotta mug across the room and headed for the door. This was all in one swift motion. The mug shattered across the adjacent wall. He had to get out of here before he tore this godforsaken place down with his bare hands.
“I will add the mug to your tab. Hopefully you are headed out to find work in order to be able to pay me,” Petru said.
Teller ignored the innkeeper. Pulling his hood over his head he stepped out into the sun and was gone. He ran for a long time until he reached the top of a nearby mountain. The edge of a cliff finally stopped him. He sat down hard and became lost in his thoughts.
How could she possibly be with Elijah, after everything they did to me, to her, to us? It has been a year since we were together. No doubt Vallachia has accepted Elijah’s proposal by now. They may already be married. She is not the type to be someone’s mistress. Not to mention Elijah would marry her in a heartbeat — who wouldn’t? Teller’s chest was tight, as if he were bound by chains that were tied to horses. The horses were pulling in opposite directions causing the chains to crush his torso. He could not escape. “She is mine!” he yelled. “Or was — she should be mine.” Teller spoke the last part quietly. He wanted to sink his teeth into someone.
Sergiu appeared at his side. “You know you could have flown up here. It is even faster than running.”
Teller gave him an incredulous glare. “You are mad. What on earth are you talking about?”
“How long have you been a vampire and you have never flown? No wonder you’re melancholy. Flying is the best part about being one of us. It is past time you learned.” With that he gave Teller a firm kick to the back. This was the last thing he expected Sergiu to do and he went tumbling off the cliff.
As Teller sped toward the ground far below, his only thought was, Thank God, this will surely kill me. But he was not that lucky. Massive black wings spread out on either side of him. They seemed to suspend him in the air. He found himself gliding gracefully through the sky. The stinging in his eyes demanded his attention. He had to pull his hood back over his head. Laughter came from beside him as a large winged creature appea
red there. Sergiu spiraled and moved through the air with ease. The sun did not seem to bother him.
“Come on,” Sergiu said. “Don’t simply glide, try to fly.”
“How?”
“Move your wings.”
How on earth do I intentionally move something that I did not even know I had? Teller concentrated on the muscles in his back and to his surprise the wings moved.
The two vampires slowly ascended higher. Teller looked around in amazement at the tiny world far below.
“Now you can’t tell me this is not worth living for?” Sergiu said.
Teller gave Sergiu the slightest of smiles. It is incredible!
They flew all day and well into the night. Sergiu landed with ease on the side of a steep hill covered by prickly evergreens. Teller tried to slow himself with little success and ended up crashing into a tree. The branches broke with loud cracking sounds, as he fell through the tree, eventually landed on his arse at Sergiu’s feet. He was covered in tiny cuts and scratches.
Sergiu roared with laughter, as Teller stood and brushed off the pine needles and twigs. “Come, you can stay with me, if you like.” His voice was full of light and life.
Was he always this happy? Teller thought with irritation, as he plucked a pine needle out of his hand.
“Flying today was the first time you have smiled since I spotted you over a month ago,” Sergiu continued.
No doubt that was true. Teller had had no reason to smile, not since he killed Vallachia’s father — losing her forever.
Sergiu walked a short way up the hill, crouched down and disappeared into a small dark opening in the side of the mountain. Teller reluctantly followed. For about ten or fifteen paces they had to walk almost doubled over. Then the cave abruptly opened into a large round stone room. Sergiu must have brought in some provisions because chairs, blankets and pillows were scattered about haphazardly.
“This is where you live?”
“Yes. Granted it is modest. Yet it has more than I need and the best part is that it is free. Not to mention noisy obnoxious humans with their sweet scent don’t bother me here.”
That does sound pleasant — for a change, Teller thought.
Sergiu laid out a blanket on the hard, cold floor of the cave. “Get some rest. We have work to do tomorrow.”
Teller realized how tired he was. He stretched out on the blanket and vaguely wondered what work Sergiu was referring to, as he drifted off.
Chapter 13 Copenhagen 1386 A.D
Elijah did indeed break Patricia’s heart. She waited another year for a proposal that never came. Shortly after, she married another from Norway and moved to be with him. Elijah did not seem to care that she was gone. In fact, he seemed relieved.
Vallachia felt bad for Patricia but she seemed to be in high spirits at her wedding. And Vallachia had to admit that she was glad to once again have her dance partner. Things returned to normal between the two old friends.
“I had the horses saddled. Will you come for a ride with me?” Elijah asked.
This was one of their favorite pastimes. Vallachia slammed her book shut. “I would love to.” How her life had changed. She was no longer a servant to her family — not that caring for her family had been terrible, by any means. Now she was like Elijah, an aristocrat, a noble. Not only did she have plenty of time to go on leisurely horseback rides, she didn’t even have to saddle her own horse.
How has this happened? she wondered. “Don’t you think we could at least prepare our own horses for riding?”
“Why?” Elijah honestly did not see her point. He had been born into the aristocracy and had no idea what it was like to be a commoner.
Vallachia hoped that that was something she would never forget — what it was like to have to work hard every day simply to survive. “Never mind,” she said.
In no time they were galloping southwest leaving the manicured castle grounds behind. Many lengths ahead was a secluded lookout which they often enjoyed flying to. It was a rock cliff that overlooked a wider part of the Oresund. Vallachia and her friends had spent much time there and loved to dive off the sheer cliff into the freezing water. On this day, she and Elijah decided to try to ride there.
Vallachia gently kicked her horse’s flanks and headed south.
“We have to go around the gorge. The horses will not be able to make it,” Elijah said.
“It is only a small gorge, surely they can cross it. It will be faster to head directly south, rather than travel all the way around the ravine,” she replied.
“We should not risk it. Traveling southwest is the best route. Then we will cut back to the Oresund staying on the main road.”
“Fine, you go your way and I will go mine.”
“We should not split up.”
“It is broad daylight. Our enemy will not be out at this time. Nor would he dare to venture so close to our home. He is not that brave ... or stupid.”
“Remember, Ramdasha is older than you. He too will be used to the sun by now.”
“Yes but not many of his men will be old enough to venture out in the daylight. He would need all his forces to attack us on our land. There is no danger today. Come on, I dare you — my path is better. I will race you there.”
Elijah smiled his devious crooked smiled — the playful one she had grown to love. Without another word he kicked his horse and was swiftly heading southwest.
“Hey!” Val protested. That is not fair. He has a head start. She kicked her horse and turned the reins toward the south. Once she reached the gorge her horse, whom she called Baby, balked and would go no farther. It was the dead of winter and only a small frozen stream was visible in the bottom of the wash. In the spring, it would become a raging river. It was however deeper than she had remembered. They usually flew to the lookout at night. From the sky it did not appear as steep and treacherous.
“Come on, Baby, you can do it.” She coaxed her young mare forward.
The horse jerked her head back in protest.
“I will help you, Baby. You can do this.” Val softly patted the horse’s long silky neck. She pictured Elijah speeding down the road. He could stay at a full run and he would be at the lookout soon. She thought about flying the horse over the gorge. No that would be cheating, she thought.
With more gentle prodding, Baby took a step down the embankment. Her hooves slid and her shoulders moved exaggeratedly from side to side as she tried to slow her steep descent. When they reached the bottom, Val kicked Baby's flanks to get her to run up the far wall out of the gorge. Baby pushed off with her powerful hind legs, which propelled them up the other side. Baby was a good horse, well trained, did as she was told. Yet, she could not make it on her own.
Not far from the top she lost her momentum and slid back. Val had already positioned her feet on the saddle and leapt into the air. Her hands briefly touched Baby’s croup as she did a back flip off her. Val landed gracefully behind the horse. With one powerful shove Baby was able to make it up out of the gorge.
Once safely on the other side, Val rubbed her muzzle and neck to calm her. “You see? I told you we would make it, Baby.”
The horse snorted at Val. No doubt she was cross about having to maneuver the gorge. Val leapt into the saddle. Now they could beat Elijah, if they ran as fast as the wind.
They had not been racing through the forest for long when Baby came to a sudden stop rearing up on her hind legs at the edge of a clearing. Val had to lower her chest to Baby’s neck so that she did not slide off the horse onto the ground. Val did not try to force Baby forward as she could hear and smell the danger as well.
In the clearing before them, a pack of wolves closed in on their prey. She leapt from Baby who neighed a warning as Val headed toward the danger. Val could see a horse’s large brown back laying on the ground — unmoving. Beside it lay a shivering foal. Unlike its mother the foal was alive. The wolves had formed a circle around their precious winter meal.
Val stepped forward with Baby
’s reins in her hand but the horse was reluctant to follow. Baby’s back legs trembled. Val released the reins and gave her a firm slap on the rear. Baby sped away faster than Val had ever seen her run. She would head straight for home. She was a smart horse, who knew where to find safety, food and shelter. The pack would not follow Baby when they had a free meal laid out in front of them. The choice between wasting energy chasing a healthy horse when a fresh motionless one lay at their feet was of no consideration.
Val had set her sights on the foal. In a flash she stood over the baby horse surrounded by ten wolves. The largest of the pack bared his long yellow teeth and let out a low deep growl.
“Mine are bigger,” Val said out loud. With that she hissed and opened her mouth wide revealing her two-inch fangs.
The Alpha wolf paused. He growled and the Beta and Kappa wolves to the right and left of him lunged for Val.
She would not use her sword — that would be too easy. She grabbed the large toothy mouth closest to her by the lower jaw and the scruff of the neck. With an easy twist followed by a brief whimper the dog fell limp to the ground. She had snapped its neck like a twig. As the next attacker was about to sink his hungry teeth into her shoulder she threw her arm up with such force it broke his neck as well.
She stepped forward as the Alpha howled for the rest of his pack to attack. The Alpha leapt toward her. She caught him by the neck and held him up. It would have been difficult to find a neck vein through all that thick winter fur. She bit into the shoulder joint between his chest and front leg. Vampires knew where the nearest and largest veins would be. They could hear the blood pulsing and the smell was strong. It was as if they could “see” the veins. She drank heartily. The blood was bitter — not sweet and nourishing like human blood. When the wolf’s heartbeat slowed, she dropped him to the frozen ground with a thud. He was still alive; he would recover. She looked around at the stunned pack. They are only trying to survive the long winter. Val’s heart sank at the thought.
“I only want the foal. You can have the mother.” Perhaps this is what happens when you live too long — you start talking to wild animals, she thought. The poor half-frozen foal was trying to gain protection and warmth from his mother who would never wake. Val took her coat — which had cost more than any horse was worth — and wrapped the colt in it. She swept him up into her arms and took flight. A couple of wolves had cautiously moved in and snapped at her heels as she ascended into the sky.
Of Princes and Dragons: Book 2 (Lords and Commoners) Page 5