VROLOK

by Nolene-Patricia Dougan

  “Hello, Vincente,” she said, her words stilted and sharp.

  “That’s more like it, Isabella. This man has travelled from Italy to visit you; you should show him some courtesy. He must hold you in great admiration to travel such a distance just to see you.” Isabella now knew that Vincente was dead. She would try to protect him, but he had killed himself by coming here. “I have invited him to come with us,” Vlad continued.

  “I am sure he has better things to do than come with us,” Isabella answered.

  “Yes, he may. He has brought paintings with him; they are mostly of you, Isabella,” Vlad said. “Isabella, do you know what else he is? He is one of us. I wonder how he became a Vampire.” Vlad left the pair in the room after this remark, but he would never actually leave them completely alone.

  Isabella’s heart fell. How could Vincente have been so stupid, she wondered? As soon as Vlad left the room Vincente ran to Isabella to embrace her. Isabella stepped back from him. She would not let him touch her.

  “Don’t touch me. Do not show me any affection. Don’t you realise what you have done…you have just killed yourself!” Isabella said.

  “But you told me I couldn‘t die.”

  “There is a way we can die, we just do not know how yet. But I guarantee Vlad will figure out the way and I will not be able help you.”

  “You are overreacting Isabella; he could not have been more pleasant towards me.”

  “He is furious. I told him you were dead.”

  “He is no match for us Isabella. We can kill him.”

  “Do not say such things—you are a fool. Don’t you realise I would never kill him? What makes you think I would join with you against him?” answered Isabella. “Your mother would have never been this stupid,”

  “My mother—what do you know about my mother?” Vincente asked.

  “Never mind.”

  “You knew my mother?” Vincente asked again.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t matter now. I need to think what to do. You‘ll have to leave, but not yet. If you leave now he will only follow you.”

  Vincente did not believe Isabella’s words. He thought she was overreacting. He did not know that she meant everything she said.

  Isabella would always love Vlad, even when she tried to convince herself that she did not. She would never conspire against him with anyone. Isabella had liked Vincente, but she did not and would not ever love him. If it had been anyone else she would have just let Vlad kill him, but she could not let Lia’s child die. So she would try to save him, but she felt it would be impossible. Isabella fell asleep contemplating what to do.

  The following evening, the three of them left the castle together. The three Vampires set off on their journey. Isabella was filled with a sense of foreboding. She had lost all the affection she had once had for Vincente. She could not tolerate fools and that was what she thought he was. Any affection she had felt for him was just merely a short and slight infatuation. She had longed for company when she met him. Even though this was true, she knew she owed it to his mother to keep him safe and she would protect him as much as she could.

  They arrived on the battlefield late in the evening; the three were ravenous and were not picky about whose soldiers they were killing. There was a camp set up near the battlefield where the soldiers were to fight the following morning. Isabella, Vlad and Vincente went through their tents until their hunger was satisfied. The next day when the remaining soldiers awakened they blamed influenza for the deaths that had occurred during the night. There had been a small outbreak recently of the virus and they had no reason to suspect foul play, yet. So the three remained until the battle started. They killed dozens of soldiers that day. Isabella was trying to keep a close eye on Vincente but the brightness of the day was obscuring her vision. Her hunger by this time had taken over and she was feeding, forgetting about him for the moment.

  This went on for weeks and the soldiers from the camp believed that they would have to return home because the influenza outbreak was getting so bad. But they were going to make one final stand. This was the night Vincente was to die.

  When Isabella awoke that evening she had decided to finally confront Vlad about Vincente. She was going to tell him about her obligation to Vincente’s mother and that this was the only reason she wanted him to live. She would not go as far as begging Vlad, but she would tell him the truth in the hope that it would save Vincente from Vlad‘s wrath.

  The three had been resting in one of the abandoned tents of the people they had killed. Vlad had already left his resting place and was standing on the edge of the forest. Isabella approached cautiously.

  “Why are you standing here on your own?” Isabella began.

  “I thought you would want this time to spend with Vincente,” said Vlad.

  “I am sorry he came here. I didn’t want him to,” Isabella answered.

  “I’m glad he did. It reminded me that we are not under any obligation to each other.”

  “I feel I have an obligation to you,” Isabella answered. There was a gentle sincerity in her voice that Vlad had never heard before.

  “You shouldn’t.”

  Isabella sighed. “Let me explain. I knew his mother. I promised her when she died that I would protect him, and when I went back to Italy he was being burned alive. I had to save him, I owed his mother that much!”

  “That is no concern of mine,” Vlad said harshly.

  “This woman, I thought of her as a sister. I cannot stand idly by and let you kill her child. Do you understand nothing of family loyalty? How could you? A man who left his brother to be tortured and sodomized by the Turks.”

  “Do not lecture me about family loyalty, and certainly do not mention my brother to me. You who know nothing about the things you speak.”

  “I know more than you think,” retorted Isabella.

  “Quiet, Isabella. That is always your mistake. You are always talking when you should listen. Do you remember ever hearing about a man called János Hunyadi?”

  “I am in no mood for one of your stories,” Isabella answered.

  “Be quiet, Isabella and listen to me for once. Do you know who he was?”

  “Yes, he was the man who killed your father and brother. He supposedly tortured them and then you joined forces with him to regain the throne. Are you trying to tell me that Vincente is dead and that you don‘t care about my obligation?”

  “Isabella, listen to me please, how did he die?”

  “There are conflicting reports. Some say he died of plague, and others say he died in battle.”

  “He did not die in battle. He had pledged to help me regain the throne, which I was about to do. I didn’t need him any more. So I knew that it was time that János paid for my brother’s and father’s deaths. I knew where he was about to attack because he had taken me into his confidence. It was cold the night the he died. I crept into his tent; no one knew I was there. I was supposed to be fighting with him. He was asleep. He had the look of an old man about him. I couldn’t just kill him. I wanted him to suffer. I put a little hemlock poison in his wine. Every night I continued until he was on the brink of death; then it was time to confront him.

  “He was in so much pain by this point that he could hardly stand when he saw me. I wanted him to know who was killing him and why. I whispered in his ear…did he remember the looks on my father’s and brother’s faces when he tortured and killed them? This startled János—he got up from his bed and looked at me. He looked at me with affection, not even suspecting I had been slowly poisoning him. I asked him again. Did he remember what my father and brother looked like when he tortured and killed them? He asked me what I was taking about; I asked him…did he honestly think that I would forget what he did to my family? I had dug up their coffins and had seen his brutality. His men had burned out their eyes and buried them alive.

  “János protested and said they were his enemies. He screamed out in pain; it was getting painful for him to even breathe
. I told him I had done this to him. I had caused him this pain. I approached his deathbed and said that I would not rest until every one of his line was dead. He screamed out once more and then he died. I had slowly tortured him to death, just as he had tortured my father and younger brother. As a tribute to him, his soldiers whispered that he died in battle. They thought it was the plague that had actually taken him. The soldiers were too loyal to what they thought was a great military leader and they spread a rumour that he died fighting and not in his bed.

  “Later on Matthias, his son, was ruler. He had kept me in prison at my older brother’s request and I never forgot my promise, even though I had lost the will to do it. The last thing I did before I died was go to Vienna and kill him. I slowly poisoned him with hemlock poison just as I had done with his father. As he was nearing death, I appeared to him and told him what I had done to his family. You see, I know all about family obligation.”

  “That is not the same and you know it. You paid that family back for revenge. Vincente’s mother was my only friend and I cannot let the boy die; he is simply foolish and impetuous. I promise you…I feel nothing for him but I have a strong obligation to his mother. Please let him live and I will send him away, I promise you. I will never see him again,” Isabella made her last plea to save Vincente’s life.

  “Vincente is safe from me, rest easy,” Vlad stated.

  Isabella believed Vlad would keep his word and the sense of foreboding that had accompanied all throughout this journey soon dissipated. She was wrong to let it do so.

  Isabella went to wake Vincente; he looked like a child to her now, just an impetuous fool who thought he was in love. She woke him and started to tell him what had happened.

  “You are safe Vincente, but after today you must leave this place,” Isabella warned.

  “When will I see you again?”

  “You won’t,” Isabella said gently.

  “But….”

  “But nothing. I have saved you twice from death. My debt to you and your family is paid in full.”

  Vincente was angry. If Isabella had abandoned him, he would have nothing in his life. “Your debt is far from paid in full…for you stole my vision from me,” Vincente shouted. “I can‘t paint anymore! All I see are blurred visions shrouded in light. I don‘t want to paint only at night!”

  Isabella was startled by this revelation. He was a child, just a spoiled child.

  “Your vision? You can‘t paint anymore? Is that what you are upset about?” Isabella scolded. “Would you rather I had let you burn? Do you remember how that felt, do you remember the pain?”

  “Do you think I would have wanted to live if I had been told the truth? Told about what an abomination I was to become? Someone that skulks around in darkened alleyways looking for food? How dare you cast me aside after all that you have done to me!”

  “All that I have done to you? I saved your life! You have no idea of the gift I have bestowed upon you and the power that you have and what I risked to give it to you. I wanted your mother to live forever; I never really wanted you to live more than your time. As I watched you dying I thought your mother would have wanted to me to save your life and that is the only reason that I did.”

  “How did you know my mother?” Vincente demanded. “Tell me!”

  “I helped your mother kill your father. He was a Medici and he raped your mother.”

  “A Medici?” Vincente said in astonishment. “I could have been rich.” Vincente didn’t seem to care that his father had raped his mother.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said? He raped your mother. You could have been brought up in his world and have been shown no love whatsoever.”

  “That was not your choice to make,” Vincente said. “You have taken so much from me.”

  “I ensured that you were loved, Vincente. Believe me, that is a precious thing.”

  “It means nothing to me.”

  Isabella by now had grown exhausted with this conversation. “I can’t talk to you anymore. I have given you a lot more than I have given anyone else. I may have taken earthly power from you, but you should realise the power you now have.”

  “If I could throw your great gift back in your face I would.”

  At this Isabella left the tent in fury. She knew Vincente would have to leave soon but she would let him calm down before she would speak to him again. And of course Vlad had heard their discourse.

  The troops were starting to take their places on the battlefield. Isabella, Vincente and Vlad were waiting for them to begin as they all had insatiable appetites. The fighting started and Isabella rushed into the battle, killing as many as she could to quell her thirst. Vincente did likewise but Vlad remained behind them. The army fought long and hard into the night. Isabella had not been paying attention because she believed that Vincente was safe from harm, but she should have known better. Vlad picked out a soldier from the crowd and stood beside him and started to whisper in his ear.

  “Look in front of you. Do you see a man killing your troops? All your other enemies mean nothing. He is killing everyone. Do you see him?”

  The man answered “Yes!” Everything apart from Vincente was a blur to him, and all he could see was Vincente under Vlad’s influence.

  “He is killing everyone in your army; you have to stop him. You will be a hero if you do.”

  “He is strong, how do I kill him?” the soldier asked.

  Vlad poured a red liquid on the soldier’s sword and said, “You cut off his head with your sword. Now go!”

  The man ran towards Vincente, his sword in hand. A sudden panic came over Isabella; she sensed something was going to happen. She looked around and saw Vlad smiling at something. She turned to see what he was looking at and saw the man running towards Vincente, wielding the sword.

  She ran towards Vincente, screaming for the soldier to stop. Isabella got close enough to reach out for Vincente’s hand. He looked at her for a second and smiled as if to say all was forgiven. In the next moment the smile was stricken from his face as the soldier’s sword struck him from behind, his face now contorted in pain, his head fell to the ground. Isabella screamed out for her friend’s dead son. She sat on the ground weeping for him. She touched his hand and a familiar feeling swept over her; it was a peaceful feeling. It was just as she remembered it. Vincente had joined Nicolae and she was glad.

  Isabella’s scene of bereavement did not go unnoticed by the rest of the fighting armies. She was sitting on the ground staring at Vincente’s bloodstained clothes. The men started to whisper to each other that they had not seen a woman on the field until this moment. Isabella had camouflaged herself using her power but now she was so overcome with grief she let her power slip and she appeared to the soldiers. It seemed to the soldiers that this woman had appeared out of thin air and they were scared; they thought she was a ghost. Isabella was too distraught to notice the rumblings of the soldiers. The army started to panic. There had been so many deaths within the camp that they thought they were cursed. One of the soldiers approached Isabella.

  “She looks to be flesh,” he shouted.

  “She must be killed to free us from the curse,” Vincente’s killer shouted.

  Vlad was watching from close by and just before Vincente’s murderer struck Isabella, Vlad had her in his arms and whisked her away from danger. He carried Isabella deep into the nearby forest.

  When Isabella regained her senses she pounded her fists on his chest and shouted, “You lied to me!”

  “Did you honestly believe I would let him live?” Vlad answered, “You know me well enough.”

  “I believed you would not lie to me,” Isabella said, and her voice shuddered as she spoke. Vlad tried to hold Isabella but she flinched from his touch. She had had enough of him. She started to walk away.

  “Come back, Isabella, where are you going?” Vlad called out after her, but Isabella did not answer him and disappeared into the forest. Vlad would not see her again for another ten years.
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  SANQUIS EST VIA

  THE BLOOD IS THE LIFE

  CHAPTER NINE

  Isabella had left Vlad. She was resolved never to see him again. She may not have been cognisant of it yet but something would always bring her back to him—no matter how determined she was to stay away. However, not for the first time, Isabella was determined to get as far away from him as she could.

  Isabella went home briefly to see Katya’s family before she left. Katya’s daughter, Isabella, had died and when she entered Katya’s old house she found Isabella’s granddaughter, Gizella. Isabella’s granddaughter looked happy now. There were no signs of abuse, no more bruises on her skin. Isabella was glad, not for the girl, for if the truth be told she thought Gizella was an idiot, but she was pleased that she was keeping her promise to Katya.

  “Are you well?” Isabella asked, feigning concern.

  “I am,” Gizella answered. Both women seemed to have a mutual contempt for the other, which neither of them could completely disguise, but these women were bound to each other and Gizella would be part of Isabella‘s life until she died and was replaced by another member of her family.

  “Does your family need anything?” Isabella continued.

  “Nothing you can give us.”

  Isabella was amazed at this woman’s abrupt reply but said nothing. The two women were distracted as a young child wandered into the room and ran to tug at her mother’s skirts. “This is Katalin,” said Gizella.

  “How old is Katalin?” Isabella asked.

  “She’s eight.” Isabella bent down to greet the child, she perceived a foreboding aberrancy in this child; it was as if a darkness enshrined her, a strange maliciousness, a sense of some wickedness that this child would be responsible for. Gizella then leaned down and picked up her daughter. She had been unnerved by the Vampire’s attentions.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt her,” Isabella said.

  Gizella instantly replied, “I know you won’t. I am just afraid of your influence,” with a sharpness in her voice.