Ironic Sacrifice

by Brooklyn Ann

  “Why are you growing your beard back?” he’d asked his brother, unable to hide his look of disgust. “You hated it.”

  Radu stroked his scraggly whiskers and shrugged. “Uta thinks it makes me look more fearsome.”

  “Your fangs should suffice,” Razvan countered. “Not only are you a fool to change yourself to please a wench, but you look like one with that unkempt mass upon your chin.”

  “Why do you hate her so?” Radu asked with deceptive casualness.

  His twin frowned. “I do not hate her…I just get a feeling that she is not all she seems. And you are different as well. Your conquests with women used to be legend. I cannot fathom why you would now settle for only one.”

  “Perhaps I’ve changed. After all, it’s been three centuries.”

  Razvan shook his head and quoted their father, “Time does not change a man, it only makes him more what he is.”

  Radu glared back at him. “I believe you are merely jealous, brother!” With that, he stomped from the room and left the castle.

  The brothers did not speak to each other for over a month. Radu spent every night with Uta, to their parents’ growing worry.

  “It’s as if she has him bespelled,” Crina said one evening over her embroidery. “Do you suppose she is a witch?”

  Razvan looked up from the sword he was polishing. “I don’t know, Mother, but I do not like her.”

  Alexandru tapped out the bowl of his pipe and snorted. “Witches do not exist anymore, no matter what the mortal church declares. Radu is going through a phase. It will be painful for him, but it shall pass and he will learn. It is a rite for our kind.”

  The matter came to head a few nights later when Radu entered the family solarium and bowed before Alexandru.

  “I implore you, Voivode of this ţări and Lord vampire of this territory, to allow me to take my fair Uta to wife and make her one of us.”

  Alexandru sighed. “I hear your plea, but I cannot grant your request, my son. I know this will cause you pain and I can only hope someday you will understand my refusal.”

  “But why can’t I Change her?” Radu protested. “You have your Bride, why can’t I have mine?”

  His eyes swam with unshed tears and Razvan felt his twin’s pain as if it were his own. However, Razvan doubted that the fair Uta felt the same deep affection for his brother.

  “You are not ready, my son,” Alexandru said.

  “Who are you to say when I am ready? Were you ‘ready’ when you met Mother? Who is ready for love? For the love of God, I am three hundred years old! A mortal man weds at thirty!” Radu’s fist shattered a stone protruding from the wall.

  Crina rushed into the chamber, nearly tripping over her elaborate skirts. “Radu! There is no call for you to destroy our home. Your father only wants what is best for you, my son.” She reached forward to cradle him to her breast as she always did when he was upset.

  Radu pushed her away and strode out of the room, tears falling unchecked to drench his beard. His black eyes glittered with fierce resolve. Crina’s face fell in hurt astonishment. Razvan stepped forward and gathered her in his arms, expecting to feel victorious, but a hard lump rose in his throat at his mother’s sorrow.

  Alexandru pulled Crina from Razvan’s embrace, leaving him bereft of affection as usual. She went willingly, sobbing against her husband’s chest.

  “Go and find your brother, Razvan,” the Voivode commanded. “Try and talk some sense into his thick head.”

  Razvan grabbed a torch from a wall sconce and headed down the corridor in pursuit. But Radu was not in his chambers. He cursed Uta under his breath and headed for the village. Uta’s home was also empty. He remembered the look of determination on his brother’s tearstained face and was filled with foreboding. Was Radu planning something foolish?

  His pulse raced as he searched the village for his twin. It was an hour before dawn when he was forced to give up.

  To his relief, when Razvan returned to the castle, he heard Radu moving around in his bedchamber. He opened the door and his greeting died on his lips at the sight before him. A travelling satchel lay on the bed, and Radu was furiously stuffing clothing and sentimental objects into it.

  Razvan closed the door carefully and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Radu planned to disobey their father and flee with Uta. Father would have no choice but to report such a transgression to the Elders, who would then hunt him down and punish his offense…possibly by death. Razvan couldn’t let his brother die. His mind raced as he weighed his options. Radu would never listen to him in such a state, and they were so evenly matched in combat it was doubtful Radu could be subdued. Razvan sighed. There was no choice but to approach Uta and try to reason with her. And he had to do it now, for he would bet his inheritance that Radu planned to take her at dusk.

  Cursing the sun for working against him, Razvan thrust open the door to the parapet and leapt out into the waning night, flying faster than ever before. The sky was changing from black to grey when he arrived at Uta’s doorstep. He didn’t bother knocking and jerked the door open.

  “Radu!” Uta leapt up from her seat. Her embroidery tumbled to the floor. An expression that resembled guilt too much to be anything else swam in her large eyes.

  “It is Razvan,” he said and strode to her, grasping her shoulders. “Uta, you must not let Radu carry out his plan with you. If he does, you will both die.”

  To his astonishment, Uta laughed, her eyes narrowed in flinty malice. “No, it is he that shall die. He and your accursed family. I know what you all are. I will not become a demon and this ţări will be safe.”

  “What are you saying?” Razvan demanded, gripping her tighter.

  Uta’s laughter returned, high and girlish and bubbling with madness. “You are too late! He has told me your secrets. I know how to bring God’s wrath upon you abominations and my soul has been cleaned in confession and penance.”

  “You don’t love my brother at all!” He shook her. “Tell me what you have done, woman!”

  She continued to laugh. “You’re too late! Too late!”

  Uta’s laughter kindled Razvan’s rage to a furious peak. He shook her harder, screaming at her to explain her betrayal. He didn’t see the figure approaching the open doorway until he heard the snap of Uta’s neck breaking.

  “You bastard!” Radu shrieked and charged at him.

  “Listen, Radu, let me explain!” But his words had no effect and he was silenced as a fist connected with his jaw. The corpse of Radu’s lover slid to the floor.

  The twins fought and grappled until Uta’s richly furnished home was in shambles. Razvan’s face began to burn as a feeble ray of the approaching sun fell on his profile. Radu stopped his assault and grabbed at his own face, groaning in agony.

  “We finish this tonight,” he hissed. Unadulterated hatred flared from his red-rimmed eyes before he fled to seek a resting place from the killing dawn.

  Razvan sighed and dashed off to find his own haven. The morning sapped his strength to fly. He only hoped Radu would be calm enough by evening to hear his explanation. It was too late to reach the castle, so he bedded down in a cave where he and Radu had taken refuge in their early days when they prowled too late.

  Nightmares of fire and screams tormented him until the sun went down. As he awoke, it seemed he could still smell the smoke. In fact, the odor was so strong he could taste it. Razvan’s eyes snapped open. This was no dream.

  The acrid smell of smoke seared his sensitive nostrils when he stepped out of the cave. The air was hazy and the moon was obscured by it. The fire had been big and it had been close. He quickened his pace, wishing he had the strength to fly, which would not come until he fed. He came to Uta’s home and stopped. Not only was there a pervasive odor of a recent fire, but the unmistakable scent of fresh blood rode the air nearby. The house was not burned. He stepped inside, and saw the abode had been ransacked and stripped of everything of value. A moment later, he discovered the sourc
e of the second smell. The place on the floor where Razvan had dropped Uta’s body was covered in blood. A deep groove was hacked into the wood. Someone had chopped off her head.

  A smear of crimson trailed across the floor where the body had been dragged out the rear entrance. Razvan followed it. The scent of charred wood and flesh grew stronger with every step. Outside he found the smoldering remains of a funeral pyre. The vampire sucked in a breath. There was only one reason for someone to cut the head off a corpse and burn it: fear that it would rise again.

  Uta’s last words echoed in his head. “You are too late! He has told me your secrets. I know how to bring God’s wrath upon you abominations and my soul has been cleansed in confession and penance.”

  Razvan ran for his family’s castle. If the villagers had feared Uta’s corpse enough to desecrate and burn it and she had told them the secret of the Nicolae family’s immortality… He ran faster, but each step and pump of his heart seemed to scream, too late…too late!

  The village was unnaturally still and silent as he passed through. The inns were dark and though a few candles burned in the windows of the houses, not a whimper of humanity was heard. Each and every door was adorned with some sort of symbol or talisman to ward off evil.

  The closer he drew to his home, the stronger the stench of smoke became until he was choking on it. Even though he anticipated the worst, Razvan still fell to his knees with an agonized cry when he saw the scorched ruin of Castle Nicolae.

  It looked as if it had been under siege for months. Large sections of the stone walls had crumbled and collapsed. A human arm protruded from one pile of rubble, a chisel still gripped in the white fist. The mystery became clear as Razvan pictured in his mind’s eye an army of stone masons hacking at the walls with their tools, using their skills to attack the weakest points. And all the while he had been asleep in the cave, helpless to come to his parents’ aid.

  The wooden door was gone, the stone archway scorched to mark where it had been. With a sinking feeling, Razvan entered the ruin of his home. Over the years the Nicolae family had been replacing the wooden ceilings with stone, but the progress was fatally slow. The stars shone through gaping spaces above him. His skin burned with the realization that the sun’s deadly rays had pierced these chambers only hours ago.

  Black chunks of charcoal littered the floor, making it hard to walk. It seemed hunks of burning wood had been thrown in to add to the conflagration. But there was still hope. The family’s sleeping chambers were below the castle.

  “Mother?” Razvan called, wincing at the hollow echo of his voice against the blackened stone. “Father?”

  There was no reply besides the muted whisper of the wind. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d held. His meager hope ebbed away when he reached the passage to the sleeping quarters. The narrow corridor was nearly impassable, so clogged was it with burned wood. Razvan pushed the obstructions away, shrieking in agony as a few remaining embers struck his hands and face.

  His parents’ once luxurious chamber was a horror of scorched walls and charred rubble. He stepped forward and heard a sickening crunch. A blackened ribcage engulfed his boot. Razvan leapt back with a small cry and clapped a hand over his mouth. Another skeleton, this one smaller, lay nearby. Its bony fingers reached out as if seeking the hand of the other.

  For an eternity his eyes stared into the gaping eye sockets of the skulls before him. They seemed to stare at him in furious accusation. He bit into the thick flesh of his hand until it bled, until the scream could be held in no longer.

  It seemed he screamed for hours, screamed until his lungs burned and white stars danced in his vision. Razvan collapsed, oblivious to the pain as his knees struck the floor. He sobbed and gibbered like a madman, hitching in an occasional breath to call out for his mother and father. He longed for the comfort of his family; he longed for Radu…Radu!

  He leapt to his feet and rushed to his brother’s chambers. Had the villagers gotten his brother as well? Razvan didn’t think so. They were twins, surely he would feel it if Radu was dead. The chamber was empty, and not nearly as damaged from the fire as that of their parents’ bower. There were no bones. Razvan breathed deep and murmured thanks to the fates. It appeared his brother was safe. But where was he?

  Frantically, he kicked aside the burnt obstructions in his path as he made his way back up the stairs. Once outside, he sucked in eager gulps of fresh air before calling out his brother’s name. His voice reverberated for miles. He had no doubt that the whole village could hear him, but he didn’t care. Let them come. His fangs bared in anticipation of making them pay for murdering his family. When he found Radu, they would avenge Alexandru and Crina together.

  As he returned to the village, it became apparent that Radu had been there as well…and that he knew what had happened. Countless bodies littered the streets. All had their throats torn out. He heard a shout behind him and turned to see a man charging at his back, wielding an axe. With lightning speed, Razvan disarmed the man and sank his teeth in his throat. He drank until his belly could hold no more, then seized his attacker’s head and squeezed, gratified when he heard the crunch of the skull crushing.

  Now that he had nourishment, he could fly. Razvan rose up in the air, calling for Radu. He flew until his muscles ached and with a heavy sigh he landed to search for another meal. The scent of terrified prey came to him from a hut nearby. He kicked open the flimsy door with a growl, eager to punish another murderer. A small sound crept out of a narrow cupboard. Razvan opened it and seized a little girl by the scruff of her neck.

  She couldn’t have been much older than eight. Her blue eyes were so wide with fear they nearly overtook her face. Razvan sighed in disappointment. He couldn’t kill an innocent child.

  He forced his features into a gentle countenance and said softly, “It is all right, little girl. I will not hurt you.”

  Those enormous eyes with fan-like lashes blinked up at him for a moment before the child hurled herself into his arms.

  “Monsters,” she sobbed. “Strigoi!”

  She didn’t recognize him, he realized. It made sense, being that she was lower caste and he looked human. When her sobs died away, he tilted her chin up and asked, “What happened, child?”

  Her tears streaked into the dirt on her cheeks which she rubbed with a grubby fist. “There were strigoi in the castle. Mama and Papa helped burn them up in the castle today because the priest said we had to, but one got away. Papa was k-killed when part of the castle fell down on him. Mama told me to hide when the monster came. It was flying.”

  Razvan wondered if it was he or his brother she saw. Before he had a chance to ask, the door was thrust open and a bloodcurdling scream rent the small space. The child’s mother had returned. He forced his will upon her, hoping that hers wasn’t strong enough to fight him. Luckily she seemed to be desperate for any reassurance and he felt the pull of his mind upon hers.

  “I mean you no harm, but you are in danger here. You must take the child and leave this place.” He detached his purse from his money belt and handed it to the astonished woman.

  “But my husband!” her mind struggled against his. “He needs to be laid to rest!”

  “I will attend to that for you, madam,” he said. “But first you must pack your things.”

  While mother and daughter obeyed Razvan’s command, he fetched a container of ale from a shelf and two crude wooden cups. He filled them and turned from view to pierce his finger with a fang. He allowed a few drops of his blood to fall into the cups. It wouldn’t Mark them permanently, but the protection would hopefully last until they were safe in another ţări.

  After he helped them load their meager possessions on a horse-drawn wagon, he asked the mother, “Have you seen a man that looks like me, only with less of a beard?”

  The woman nodded. “Yes. That is why you frightened me so. I thought you were he.” She shuddered. “He was mad.”

  “Where did you see him?” he demanded.
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  “By the ruins of the castle.” She grabbed his arm. “But do not go there! It is dangerous.”

  Razvan laughed bitterly, “I will be safe. If you see him again, tell him his brother is looking for him.”

  He slapped the horse’s flank and sent them galloping off before she could reply.

  Razvan returned to the ruins. Radu was not to be found. He searched until dawn. He searched the next day, and the next, never guessing that he wouldn’t see his twin for nearly seven hundred years.

  ***

  Jayden came back to herself. Her pillow was soaked with tears for Razvan’s suffering. It seemed she could still smell the smoke from the fire that burned his parents to death. If she had a time machine she would have gone back in time and killed that bitch Uta herself. The woman had caused the deaths of a family and split two brothers apart.

  But Jayden was going to try to bring them back together. Through Razvan’s memories she’d seen Radu and heard his voice. Through those memories, she knew him. Now she was going to try to find him with her mind.

  She took another deep breath, let it out slowly, and focused on Radu Nicolae, the sound of his voice, his face, identical to Razvan’s except that his eyes held more laughter. In and out she breathed, focusing her energy to a pinpoint. Her skull began to throb and she realized she was clenching her teeth. Jayden forced herself to relax a little. She tried something else. Keeping her focus on Radu, she flexed her powers then willed them to cast outwards as if she were fishing. In a way, she was.

  Her metaphysical seeker drifted out for what felt like a thousand miles. It seemed like she could touch people across the globe. Her inner vision blurred and again she was propelled towards something or someone. As her sight cleared, Jayden heaved a sigh of disappointment.