VROLOK

by Nolene-Patricia Dougan

  He left her in the middle of the room for all to see and started kicking her in the face. His guests, who up until this time were egging him on, were now stunned by the Prince’s violence. The raucous laughter that had been coming from this room now quickly quieted to an eerie silence. All you now heard was the sweeping sound of Gábor’s leg as it bludgeoned your daughter’s face. Gábor looked round to see the stunned and now sobered faces. One by one the soldiers asked for their leave. This made Gábor stop and he shouted in a foul temper, “You can all go then.” He left the room in a rage.

  The room soon cleared of everyone except her and that is when I came to get you.”

  At this Istvan ran into the room. ‘I just heard what happened,’ he said. Istvan was appalled when he saw his future wife lying on the floor bleeding. “I am going to kill him,” Istvan icily stated.

  “I will help you,” said Csaba.

  One of the servants who had witnessed the gruesome beating was a Slovak and had gone to tell Isabella what had happened. Isabella now entered the room as the two men were plotting the death of their sovereign. They marched out of the room, stern and determined. Isabella ran after them.

  “Stop!” she shouted. The two men ignored her. “Stop!” she shouted again. Still ignoring her, they marched on. Isabella ran quickly and got in front of them. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “We are going to kill Gábor Báthory,” Istvan stated, not caring who knew.

  “No, you cannot, not tonight.”

  Csaba pushed Isabella from his path and Isabella quickly got in front of him again. She placed her hand on his chest stopping him walking any further and said. “You remember me Csaba, don’t you?”

  An inexplicable urge made Csaba stop trying to get past Isabella and he looked at her face. He suddenly remembered her; he had seen her several times before. She had been there when he had discovered his sister‘s body. She had also been at Erzsébet’s trial and he had seen her more recently; she had been trampled by a horse. “You remember, don’t you, I am letting you remember me so that you will trust me,” Isabella continued.

  “How can you still be so young?” Csaba asked.

  “Never mind, that it is just a detail. You know me. You know I influenced Erzsébet’s trial.” Csaba’s head was now filled with memories that had been blocked out. He remembered this woman standing in the crowd at Erzsébet’s trail. He saw Isabella throwing off a body from the battlements so that Erzsébet would be discovered. She was letting him see these things.

  “If it was not for you, Countess Báthory would have killed for many more years.”

  “I don‘t know if that is true or not.”

  “It is true; you saved many girls’ lives.”

  “I want to save more people. You must trust me.”

  “Who are you?” Csaba asked.

  “Who I am is of no consequence. But I tell you, you cannot kill Gábor, not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because who will take over from him, another tyrant? Just like him, worse perhaps.”

  “That doesn’t matter. Even if we wait, someone just as bad still could take over.”

  “No, I know of a man who is good. Gabriel Bethlen is raising an army; you know he is a good man, Csaba,”

  “He is,” Csaba acknowledged.

  “Then give him a chance. If you wait, he will take over and bring tolerance to this land,” Isabella pleaded.

  “I want to kill Báthory,” Csaba said. “I have a right to kill him.”

  “You will, but just not yet, I promise you that.” At this point Istvan interrupted.

  “Csaba, why are you listening to this woman?” Istvan protested.

  “I know her and trust her, and she is right. We will wait for Gabriel Bethlen to return.”

  “Listen to Csaba and you both will come out of this unscathed. If you kill Báthory you will also be dead by morning. His soldiers would not tolerate an assassination,” Isabella said.

  “Do you have healing powers?” asked Csaba, thinking about his daughter.

  “No, I don’t, I’m sorry, but let me see her.” Csaba led Isabella back down the corridor to see his daughter. The girl was badly beaten but Isabella could smell no signs of death. “She’ll live,” Isabella stated.

  “What about scarring, will she….” Istvan asked.

  “Will you allow me to touch her face?” Isabella asked.

  “Yes if it will help.”

  Isabella touched the girl’s head and took her pain. The girl opened her eyes and Isabella smiled. Not her usual wry smile, but a warm comforting smile. She then felt her cheek bones and nose. “I don’t think there are any bones broken that will not heel. She may have some slight scarring from the cuts, that is all, but her mind may never recover from such a viscous attack.” The girl smiled at her future husband and he wept; he could hardly bring himself to look at her. Istvan clasped her hand and held it to his chest.

  “How long do we have to wait to kill him?” asked Istvan.

  “Not long,” Isabella answered.

  Gabriel Bethlen was already on his way home. He had gone straight to the Turks as Isabella had suggested and found the Sultan more than willing to support him. He had raised an army and was now nearly home. Isabella was waiting for him. Unfortunately, while he had been away his wife Zsuzsanna had died. She had been very ill before he had left, but she had hidden how serious it was from him, not wanting to stop him from fulfilling his destiny.

  Gabriel stationed his new army a few hundreds yards outside the Hungarian border. Gabriel, wanting to see his wife, sneaked in under cover of darkness to his old home. A Slovak informed Isabella that he was on his way and she, Csaba and Istvan went to his house to wait for him.

  He opened the door quietly, not even wanting to wake up the servants. Csaba lighted a candle, alerting Gabriel to their presence.

  “Did you do as I asked?” Isabella asked and Gabriel nodded.

  “Where is my wife?” Gabriel asked.

  “I am afraid she is dead.”

  Gabriel sat down in shock.

  “You can weep for her later. We have no time now,” said Isabella.

  Gabriel tried to compose himself as best he could. “Who are these men?” he asked.

  “They are the men who will assassinate Báthory.”

  “Why assassinate him?” Bethlen asked. At this Istvan interrupted. He slammed his fist down on the table.

  “I have waited long enough,” he shouted. “I want his blood.”

  Isabella smiled. “You are not the only one,” she said. “But you must wait just until tomorrow night. Everything is in place. You attack tomorrow and I will ensure that Báthory dies.”

  “Why does he have to die?” Gabriel asked again, sensing that Istvan was slightly calmer.

  “He has to die because the Turks cannot be trusted; if after tomorrow he escapes he could flee to the Sultan and they may be just as accommodating with him as they have been with you. Their loyalty is to whoever can give them the most power. The Turks know you are a strong-willed man and you will do as much for your people as you can, whereas Báthory will grant them anything to regain his throne. That is why he must die. And these two men have most definitely earned the right to kill him,”

  “Till tomorrow night,” Gabriel whispered.

  “Tomorrow night,” Isabella answered.

  Isabella sat waiting for Vlad’s return. He did just before sunrise.

  “Is everything in place?” Isabella asked.

  “Yes. Bethlen has surpassed himself; that is a mighty army he has raised. I noticed quite a few Slovaks.”

  “I sent out word that they should join with him.”

  “You are becoming a very powerful woman. Isabella.”

  “I am getting to be more than that, I am becoming a very powerful Vrolok,” Isabella smiled. “You will fight with him tomorrow?”

  “I will, but I don’t think you need me.”

  “I do. If I was not needed here to ens
ure Báthory is dead, I would be fighting with you.”

  “You are a leader of men, Isabella.”

  “No, the allies that I have do not know where their instructions are coming from. No doubt they would not follow me if they knew who or what was commanding them.”

  “I think you are wrong. The Slovak people respect you or they would not be fighting with Bethlen otherwise.”

  “Perhaps, but I believe they may turn against me yet.”

  “Walking among them tonight I realised they would sooner kill their own kin instead of you. They call you Alexandru, the defender of mankind.”

  “They presume I am a man.”

  “They do.”

  “How archaic of them.”

  “If I go and fight them tomorrow they will presume it is me, you realise this,” Isabella smiled.

  “It doesn’t matter. In part it has been you, and I don’t want any glory. Go and fight with them, for they need you.” Vlad walked towards Isabella, took her hand and kissed it. He turned and headed towards the door.

  “Vlad,” she called out after him. Vlad turned back towards her.

  “Yes?” he answered.

  “Make sure you only kill Báthory’s troops.” Vlad smiled and bowed at Isabella; she knew him too well.

  “As you wish, my lady.”

  Isabella waited to hear the first explosion of gunpowder. Within a few moments of the start of the fighting, Báthory came running through the hall half-dressed. Isabella tripped him and he smacked his head on the stone floor. He quickly got back up onto his feet and turned to face the Vampire.

  “That was the first cruel thing you did to this man’s daughter,” said Csaba, who had been standing in the corner.

  “What are you talking about?” Báthory answered. “I will have you executed for this!”

  “I am afraid you will not be in the position to do that,” Isabella stated, and she knocked Gábor to the ground again. This time he did not get up so quickly. Istvan came running into the room, rage surging through him. He kicked Gábor in the face. Isabella touched him on the forehead and gave him the pain of the girl he had beaten. Istvan and Csaba started to kick him in the face over and over again. The vengeful father and husband beat Gábor to death. When the two men had exacted their revenge Isabella asked.

  “Do you feel better?”

  “I will never feel better, but I feel relieved that he will not be able to do this to any other child,” Csaba answered.

  “I am glad he is dead and I am glad I killed him. If I could have caused him more pain I would have,” Istvan said firmly.

  “I must ask you one last thing,” Isabella whispered.

  “What?” Csaba responded.

  “You must forget I was ever here.” There was a sudden explosion outside and Csaba and Istvan were distracted as the whole castle shook. Csaba immediately looked round to where Isabella had been standing, but she was already gone and they had already forgotten her.

  Isabella climbed up to the battlements to watch the fighting. She saw Vlad and Bethlen leading the charge. A mixture of Slovaks, Turks and Hungarians loyal to Bethlen followed them. Her plan was certainly working. She considered it her greatest achievement yet. She had gotten rid of a tyrant and replaced him with a true Prince and if her new Prince fell short of his potential, she would always be watching him.

  Isabella thrust herself off the battlements and flew towards Vlad. He had single-handedly killed hundreds and when Isabella stood by his side, the pair swept through Báthory’s army with ferocious and deathly speed. After a few hours a man ran from Báthory’s palace dragging Gábor’s body behind him. Gábor’s face was not recognizable but his royal seal was still on his finger. Bethlen’s army started to cheer; the battle had been won.

  Isabella looked up from her current victim and smiled. She ran to Vlad and kissed him, placing her hands on his temple, but as she touched his face, she was able to read some of his thoughts and see his darkest secrets for the first time. She had become so skilled that Vlad could no longer block her out of his mind. She saw Kit, she saw Vlad talking to Thomas Walsingham influencing him. She saw all of it.

  However, Kit’s murder was not his darkest crime. It was only the beginning of her vision. She was about to see much worse than this. Vlad was there the night Nicolae had died. When Katya had gone to get the sword he had poured the Dhampir’s blood on the blade so that the sword would slice through Nicolae’s neck. He had killed her Nicolae.

  Isabella let go of Vlad’s face and backed away from him. Vlad knew at that moment he might never see Isabella again, for he had read her thoughts as she had kissed him. He felt her elation as the battle was over and for the first time he could see, for just an instant, how in love she was with him. Then he felt these feelings turn sour. He felt her utter devastation at what he had done to Kit and her complete loathing at what he had done to Nicolae. In that moment Vlad felt Isabella’s love turn to hatred. He knew as she backed away and became obscured by the celebrating troops that it might be the last time he would ever see her. She would not come back to him, not after this. He had only in the past felt a slight taste of her resolve to not see him again. Vlad fell to the ground and wept, blood red tears streaming from his eyes.

  Isabella was distraught but there was one last thing she had to do. The following day she went to see Gabriel Bethlen as he sat on his new throne. Isabella approached him and curtsied.

  “Prince,” Isabella started.

  “The woman who made all this possible—I have to thank you.”

  “I am not here to receive thanks,” Isabella said. “I just want you to make me a promise.”

  “Anything.”

  “I want you to bring tolerance back to this land. Do not get corrupted by the power you now have.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I hope you won’t, for I will be watching you.” Isabella left him with this. She kept her promise she did watch him and a few years later she visited him again when he was King of Hungary.

  “I want you to relinquish this throne, Gabriel,” she began.

  “Why?”

  “It is too much power.”

  “It’s not.”

  “I am not here to argue with you. Go back and be Prince of Transylvania, and give Ferdinand the throne here. You do not need it. It has already corrupted you.”

  “It hasn’t,” Gabriel protested.

  “It has. Are you not planning to burn Anna Báthory at the stake?” At these words Gabriel knew she was right; he had been changed by his newfound power. “Let her go and relinquish the throne of Hungary.”

  “I will.”

  Gabriel went back to Transylvania and was a great and tolerant prince till the end of his days.

  Isabella sat on a mountaintop in the middle of Carpathians; she could just about see the candlelight flickering in Vlad’s castle. She would never go back there. She sat staring off into the distance. Surely she had done enough, she thought, for fifty years. She had not killed anyone that she thought did not deserve it. She had avenged hundreds and probably saved hundreds. She wanted to know could she now die. Could she now find peace at last? Isabella stood and looked at the long drop at her feet and the rocks on the ground below. She threw herself off the top of the mountain. She did not control her motion as she could to save herself from injury. She hit the ground at a tremendous speed bashing her skull on a rock which knocked her unconscious.

  She was awakened by someone dripping water on to her forehead. She opened her eyes and looked up at the man who was reviving her. Could it be? She thought. Isabella saw Nicolae’s handsome face looking down at her. Isabella was elated she had done enough; Nicolae had come to take her to heaven.

  “Nicolae.”

  “Yes,” he answered. “How did you know my name?”

  “Nicolae, it is me,” Isabella grabbed his face and frantically started to kiss him. She stood and hugged him, not ever wanting to let him go.

  “Nicolae, have you forgiven me?” she aske
d.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about!” he said. Isabella hugged him tighter still. The moon was covered by a cloud and they were in total darkness. Isabella drew herself back from him. She placed her hands on his shoulders. She could not believe it…her Nicolae was standing in front of her.

  She was right not to believe her own eyes. She noticed her fingers were starting to tremble. She had not fed in days; searing pain started to shoot through her body. Isabella could hardly stand it. She saw the bulging vein on this man’s neck. She couldn’t control herself; she plunged her teeth into the vein and drank. When the pain stopped Isabella let go and the young man fell to the ground. Isabella fell with him; what had she done? She had killed Nicolae again, she had watched him die. She had to do something; she couldn’t watch this again, even if it meant him hating her forever, as she feared it would. She slashed her wrist open and let him drink. As he drank she noticed his hair; it was not brown like Nicolae’s but black like her own. She then noticed his eyes; they were green but dark like hers, not clear and bright like Nicolae’s. Isabella realised in torment what she had done. She had not only killed her own descendant. She had made him into a Vampire.

  WENN DU FRAU SIEHST, DENKE, ES SEI DER TEUFEL, DIESE IST EINE ART HOLLE

  WHENEVER YOU SEE A WOMAN, THINK, IT IS THE DEVIL, THIS IS A HELLISH BREED

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Isabella waited for her descendant to awake. He opened his eyes in the early hours of the next morning.

  “Can you hear me?” Isabella asked. The youth nodded.

  “What happened?” he asked. Isabella hesitated. She didn‘t want to tell him what she had done.

  “I thought you were Nicolae,” she said, obviously distraught.

  “I am. How did you know my name?”

  Isabella sighed. “You are named after an ancestor.”

  “A distant one.”

  “Has it been that long?” Isabella reflected.

  “What is wrong with me? I feel different.”

  “You are different,” Isabella responded.

  “How, how am I different?” Nicolae looked up at Isabella. There was no anger or bitterness in this man’s face; he was an innocent. He looked at her and the emotion he was visibly expressing was trust. He so resembled Nicolae she didn’t want to immediately alter this look to one of hate, but she had to. She had to tell him what she had done.