The Dracula Chronicles: The Lamb Of God

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The Dracula Chronicles: The Lamb Of God Page 4

by Shane KP O'Neill


  He looked around again and stepped away from the wall. Maia screamed out loud. It took his attention back to the door of his wife’s bedchamber.

  His friend put a hand on his shoulder. “Try and be at ease.”

  Dracul did not hear him. The gypsy girl materialised before his eyes once more.

  HE STOOD OVER HER, BUT did not speak. She looked up in fear; aware of what was to come. Blood trickled from her lip, the cut inside her mouth stinging her. When she had fallen she had not been able to put her hand out in time to save herself. A swelling had begun to show from just below her eye. She knew there was no way out of this. It made her determined to be strong and not let him see the terror she felt inside.

  Dracul pushed her down again and lifted her skirts. She groaned when her bruised face rubbed against the hard earth. The cold air touched against the backs of her thighs and her exposed sex. She bit into her hand and closed her eyes, emitting a muffled cry when he entered her.

  MAIA SCREAMED AGAIN. HE SHIFTED nervously where he stood. Rodrigul felt concern for his lord’s state of mind and ran down the corridor.

  Dracul looked to see him turn the corner. His mind drifted for a moment, but then the hairs stood up on the back of his neck.

  The figure did not move. It stood at the end of the corridor, tall and imposing. Dracul could not see a face behind the heavy cowl. In spite of this he knew the figure in the cloak was scrutinising him.

  “What do you want of me?” he shouted. “You have no business here! Get away from my family!” When the figure did not respond, Dracul ran towards it. “Go away!”

  Rodrigul turned the corner again with a cup of water in hand. Dracul glanced at him and then back to the cloaked figure. It was gone.

  “Did you say something, my Lord?”

  “No,” he mumbled. “You are right. I am tired. Very tired.”

  “Come and sit down and drink this. It might help you feel better. I sense this could well be a long night.”

  DRACUL’S GUARDS STOOD A LITTLE more than twenty yards away. They watched all that he did, cursing him out of earshot. The woman was a sight to behold. Each of them to a man wished they could have a piece of what she had to offer. But this was a pleasure reserved for the rich and wealthy. He would not permit them any time with her.

  The episode did not last long. After a few minutes he ejaculated and was done and she thanked God quietly that it was all over. Dracul tidied his clothes and stepped away. He threw three pieces of silver down on the ground beside her.

  She did not touch it.

  He turned away and rode off again with his men. When she knew he was gone she fell down against the ground and sobbed.

  The act angered the elders, but they knew there was little they could do. Life was hard for the gypsies at the best of times. They could not seek any sort of justice for this crime. It would only heap more misery on the tribe.

  They asked the woman to put it behind her. She agreed to do so for the good of the group. For that reason they helped her when she fell pregnant. Now on this cold winter’s night the other women were on hand to assist with the birth.

  The gypsies lived their lives by a strict code. They worked together as a group for the good of the whole. Yet the adults could rely on no one to care for their children. They had to do that alone. If a woman conceived with an outsider the tribe would often cast them out. It did not apply in this instance. In the main the women pitied this poor soul. She had played no part in the conception of this child.

  An air of excitement filled the camp. This baby was going to be the seventh of a seventh. To the gypsies such a child would grow to be a person bestowed with great powers. The women grew more excited with each new contraction. Some of them felt it a gift from God. They would revere this special child over all others.

  There were problems during the birth. The elder of the tribe had to take drastic action to try and save mother and child. He decided the welfare of the baby had to come first. When the baby turned his only option was to cut it out. With a heavy heart he did this. He managed to deliver it safely, but as it took its first breath its mother breathed her last.

  MAIA SCREAMED LOUDER THAN AT any time before. Dracul’s heart raced. “Maia?”

  The cry of a baby followed it. He let out a long sigh of relief. Gazing up at the ceiling, he was barely able to contain his joy.

  Rodrigul reacted in much the same way. “I told you all would be well.”

  Dracul looked to his friend, tears welling in his eyes. “Not quite yet.”

  Both men waited for the door to open. For Dracul it seemed to take an age. You may not pay for the wrong you have done. But your son shall.

  The door swung open. He breathed in hard and held it. The same midwife that had evicted him appeared there. “My Lord,” she said. “You can come in.”

  Dracul did not move. He tried to gauge something from her expression. She neither smiled nor grimaced. Her face remained a blank.

  “Go on,” Rodrigul urged him. “Go and see your wife and child.”

  MANY OF THE GYPSIES CRIED when she died. She deserved so much more than this. Death had taken her, leaving her seven little ones behind. Now they had no one.

  “We must love her children as though they are our own,” one of them said.

  “Yes,” the elder’s wife nodded. “The poor little angels. This is not their fault.”

  It was the elder of the tribe, Constantin, who had delivered the child. He cradled it now in his arms. After its first cries it sucked on his smallest digit. “The child is hungry, Helga,” he said to her. “Go and get it some milk.”

  He waited while one of the women saw to it. “What should we name him?”

  His wife reached out to take the child. “Oh, he is so beautiful. Hello special little one,” she said with tears in her eyes, gently rubbing his chin.

  “His mother wanted to call him Andrei,” one of the others interceded.

  “Then Andrei it is,” he agreed.

  A brilliant white light appeared outside the tent. Everyone inside gasped at the splendour of it. Helga laid Andrei down in the crib they had ready for him. It glowed from inside. An incredible blue aura surrounded the baby.

  “He is the Special One,” she exclaimed, tears streaming down her face.

  Everyone dropped to their knees and clasped their hands together in prayer. Constantin did the same and looked on in awe when the blue aura extended to the child’s dead mother.

  He watched the blue light surround the outline of the woman. It dazzled him and everyone else inside the tent. Moments later they saw the image of the dead woman rise from her body. She stood up and smiled at them all.

  Her eyes drifted over to her newborn. She walked to the crib and leant over. Andrei giggled when his mother looked down on him. Already he showed signs of how special he was. It should not have been possible for him to do any such thing. She kissed him lovingly on the cheek and whispered her goodbyes.

  Tears now ran down the elder’s face too. The emotion of the moment was too much even for him. When the woman turned to face him he looked deep into her eyes. He saw the peace within her and felt it himself for just a moment.

  “Watch over my baby,” she said. “All shall one day depend on him.”

  He nodded his head as a promise to her. Words were beyond him. The woman turned towards the light from outside. Closing her eyes she walked through the covering of the tent and into the dazzling brightness.

  The light continued to shine even after she had gone. Constantin wiped his eyes and stood up. He walked to the crib and looked down on Andrei.

  The baby looked up at him and smiled, waving his arms and legs.

  To see the newborn smile filled him with awe and choked him at the same time. “I shall watch over you, little one.”

  DRACUL WENT STRAIGHT TO HIS wife’s bedside. He knelt on the floor beside her and took her hand in his. She was Princess Cneajna of Moldavia; daughter of the ruling voivode, Alexandru the Good of the Musat
in family. Despite her true name he had always called her Maia. On the occasion they had met she had jokingly given that as her name. It had remained with them ever since.

  He wiped the sweat from her brow and stroked her hair. “Are you well, Maia, my love?” he asked.

  Maia looked thoroughly exhausted. She turned her eyes to him and managed a smile to indicate all was well with her and the baby.

  One of the midwives wrapped the infant in a towel. She turned towards Dracul. “You have a son, my Lord,” she said, her breast heaving with pride. “A fine healthy baby boy.”

  Outside a storm had descended on Sighisoara from nowhere. Rain lashed the rooftops over the city. Dracul noticed it when he heard the wind howling around the shutters. Rain had come when he had expected snow. He looked over when they vibrated against the storm. Lightning erupted throughout the heavens and stung his eyes through the small slits.

  He looked away again and collected his son from the midwife. Maia offered him another smile before he held his son aloft, laughing out loud with joy. “The boy should be named Vlad,” he decreed. “After his father.”

  Maia smiled at him. “Vlad is a good name.”

  When Rodrigul walked into the room, Dracul ushered him closer. “Come and look at my son,” he urged, the grin on his face one of unbridled joy. “He shall bear his father’s name.”

  His friend grinned also. “Then he shall have large shoes to fill.”

  “He is a Draculesti. He shall fill them and leave mighty footprints of his own.”

  The hooded figure materialised beside the bed. It towered a good eighteen inches over him. Dracul froze on the spot. He recoiled slightly when he caught the stench of the foulest breath.

  The figure leaned forward, allowing him a glimpse of a beard and a blackened lower lip. He clutched his son to his chest, his legs still unable to move.

  The intruder reached towards the baby, extending a long bony finger. It moved the towel aside from the baby’s face to take a look. “Hmm,” it said, in a low growl.

  Dracul felt a sharp pain in his lower back as his muscles spasmed. His breath caught in his throat when his chest tightened. Finally the figure brushed past him and disappeared again. He exhaled slowly, his body relaxing once more. Clutching his son to his chest he remembered the words of Valeria only a few hours before.

  The prophecy had already rung true.

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  Cover design, interior book design,

  all interior graphics and eBook design

  by Blue Harvest Creative

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  As I release the prequel to the entire The Dracula Chronicles series I want to say a big thank you to everyone who has supported me on my journey and believed in me. Everything I write; I write for you.

  Shane KP O’Neill is the writer of The Dracula Chronicles, a new and exciting series adding a new dimension to the Dracula myth. He has begun the series with a later Chronicle to give his readers the vampire first. Chronicle #1, The Path To Decay, will follow to take you back to the beginning. The Path To Decay is due for release in the middle of September, 2013.

  The author developed a fascination with Dracula from an early age. Like many others he was enthralled by Christopher Lee's portrayal of him on the big screen. It was in his late teens that he discovered Dracula the man and the love affair began from there. An avid lover of history, he studied the period in which the real historical Vlad Dracula lived, 15th Century Balkan, for many years. It followed from there then that with his love of writing he would always choose Dracula as his subject. He built a concept and premise where he could accommodate both Dracula the vampire and Dracula the man.

  Away from writing, the author has a wide range of interests. He reads a lot of books from a wide variety of authors though his main interest lies in the horror genre. His love of books is matched only by his love of the countryside and of course, his family. As an added note, he has lived and travelled all over the world. He has a love for all things historical, with a particular fascination for medieval Europe. Anywhere he travels he likes to search out locations with an historical interest and will always hunt for the ruins of an old castle before heading to the beach.

  The Dracula Chronicles

  The Path To Decay (September 2013)

  Birth of the Monster - The Prequel to Bound By Blood

  Bound By Blood, Volume 1

  Bound By Blood, Volume 2

  Tales Of The Black Sabbath

  Orchid

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Information

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Enter a World of Evil September 2013

  Visit the Author

  Design Credits

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

 

 

 


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