The Vampire Family

by Kristin Battestella

"Who knows?” Gaston theorized. “But it will be better than living under his tyranny.” William nodded in agreement.

  Large boulders lined the riverbanks, and a series of waterfalls lay around the bend. William hopped on the stones and crossed the river, but Gaston followed with less enthusiasm. A horse's neigh came from behind the trees, and the two rebels sprinted for cover behind the nearest boulder. A black horse appeared from beyond another rock. It wore no saddle, only a frayed rope around its neck.

  Gaston motioned for William to follow him. They stepped back over the stones and huddled behind a boulder. Gaston climbed on the rock and reached out for the rope bridle. The horse chomped on the sparse grass at the riverbank, and he felt the itchy rope on his fingertips. Quickly he removed his hand, and William protested.

  "That is a good horse. We could use him."

  Gaston hushed his follower. “Listen."

  Beyond the grass munching and through the rushing waves and falls, a faint voice sang. Gaston peered through the brush and saw the young Victoria seated below the waterfall. She ran her fingers through a soft mass of wet black hair, caring not for the world around her beyond its idyllic qualities. She hummed an unfamiliar tune, and Gaston tried to listen.

  "Let me see, Gaston!” William pushed him aside, and he shoved him back.

  Victoria heard rustling among the bushes and jumped back into the river, concealing what was underneath her wet, white under gown.

  Gaston peered through the trees and saw no one there.

  "Go back to camp, William."

  "But...” he pouted, and Gaston glared at him.

  "Go,” he ordered. William dragged himself away.

  He watched as Victoria peeked above the warm water near a light mist surrounding the falls. She squinted and scanned the area for movement. Although he was still hidden, Gaston lay immobilized by her search. Another rustling sound came from behind the wet rocks, and a four-legged, black culprit put his head down to the river for a drink. Victoria laughed and hummed her lullaby again. Her existence was a happy one, Gaston suspected—unlike his. The rebel slid from the boulder, and away he went.

  * * * *

  William sat on a tree stump along their wooded path and dug into the ground with a stick. Gaston approached him, equally disenchanted.

  "Was she pretty?” William kept his head down and acted unhurt and uninterested.

  "I would not know, and don't act as if you don't."

  Gaston walked past the boy, and William leaped up to catch him. Their good humor had returned. “I've seen you watching your sister at that very same spot while the younger children and women bathe."

  "Sarah?” He blushed. “She seems mighty fond of you herself."

  The young soldiers entered a vine covered and darkened cave. They knew the way and traveled to a large cavern filled with bustling people. Young, old, poor, and worn, the rebels halted their chores at Gaston's entry.

  "Hello, Sarah.” He spoke to the plain, brown haired girl waiting in his path.

  "I saved you some rolls.” She smiled at him and offered the moldy basket. Meager as it was, it was no small thing to put aside.

  "I will eat later.” Gaston brushed her aside. “I have work to do."

  Sarah looked down at the stale rolls in her hands, and Gaston stepped down into the cavern. “Give them to William."

  Sarah thrust the bread at her brother and ran into the crowd. Gaston made his way to the peaking formation of rocks and stepped up to the cavern's natural podium. The rebels before him were shabby and their clothes rags. Sparse fires flickered in the cave, but the crowd hushed at their leader's presence.

  "My friends,” he began. “It has been difficult for us to organize and assemble people, supplies, and food for our numbers, but it is no less than the oppression you face in your own villages. Now we are many, yet we are united as one. Now we are able to begin enforcing our cause."

  "I am but a poor man.” Gaston held his shirt out for all to see and made his voice bittersweet. “Raised by poor old people who were pushed into poverty by Antonio's tyranny—as were all of you. Now, we can make Antonio feel the effects of his own tyranny. We will make him break and fall to his knees!"

  The crowd cheered and roared.

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  Chapter 9

  Victoria rode into the barn just after sundown. Who was there to rush her from her wayward ways? She put her horse up for the night and snuck into the castle's kitchen door. Holding her long hem, she walked by the slung beef and bushels of potatoes to enter the kitchen proper. An untouched plate awaited her on a smoothed wooden table, and Victoria took a few bites of bread before sneaking up the servant's hidden stairs. She walked down the upstairs hall and passed the large wooden door of her father's study. She stopped, leaned close, and listened for Antonio's voice.

  Most of my education has been shaped by the things I've heard in this room.

  Victoria heard her father and a woman's voice inside the room.

  "What is this special gift we shall receive on our birthdays?"

  "Oh, it's only..."

  "Samantha.” Antonio laughed. “It is a surprise."

  "I just have the feeling that I don't want this surprise, Father.” Samantha was always so depressing.

  "You love surprises!"

  Victoria strained to hear, but the door yanked open. The caught girl stumbled and tried to keep her balance.

  Oh no!

  * * * *

  Crow's feet were just beginning to show upon his face, but his charisma was as evident as ever. Antonio looked back and forth between his daughters. Samantha, the eldest, was light haired, yet so melancholy. His spoiled youngest, Victoria, held the same ambition as he though his light features contrasted her dark ones. Antonio smiled. “Eavesdropping again, my dear? I’ m sure you will enjoy my surprise, Victoria."

  A shabby soldier stood by the open door, and the bow slung over his shoulder indicated his position.

  "King, sir.” The man entered and looked at the two daughters.

  "Girls.” Antonio maneuvered them out the door. The details of his kingship were no concern of theirs. Samantha left willingly, but Victoria smirked as she went. Antonio happily shut the door on her and turned to the soldier. “Continue."

  "We reached the rebels’ hideout, but they were gone. We took what they left behind."

  "Damn!” Antonio kicked the door, and the wood cracked. The soldier winced, staring at the rows of books. “I want those troublemakers, not handmade weapons. Get out. Get out, now!"

  The soldier ran out the door, and Antonio slammed the weakened frame.

  When I was a child, I did not surround myself with incompetence, and were I surrounded, I removed it. My father was his own undoing. I was inexperienced, but I grew strong enough to make things the way I wanted!

  "Thinking of me?"

  Antonio looked up, and Elizabeth carefully shut the damaged door.

  "As always.” He smiled slightly and again noticed her limp. The rustle of her royal robes could not hide it. She was still youthful in size and beauty, but her demeanor held a touch of weary.

  "Any news of the rebels?” She walked to the window and pushed her dark hair from her eyes. Antonio joined her and spotted Samantha by the fountain in the courtyard.

  The statue. Cousin Gaston. Romina!

  "Their hideout was abandoned.” Antonio sighed. “He is playing a game I do not like."

  "Maybe you despise him because he is so much like you."

  "No one is like me."

  "The nature of the game is cat and mouse.” Ann entered the study with a scrap of parchment in her hand. “You may not like what you read."

  "Oh give me that!” Antonio unfolded the note and revealed the words:

  Hello, my tyrant!

  By now you must know,

  We have marched on,

  To a new place,

  Of which you don't know!

  Your Friend,

  Gaston

&nbs
p; "What words did you like best?” Ann smirked.

  "He is a damned poet.” Elizabeth took the note.

  "Let's crush this worm, and put him back under the rock where he belongs!” Ann told Antonio. She'd grown in spite, always being second to Elizabeth.

  "Let's play his game for a while,” Elizabeth said. “He has the advantage."

  "The advantage?” Ann contested.

  As his wife and the mother of two of his children, Elizabeth knew how to soften her words for Antonio. “We don't know where he is, who he is, or how many are backing him. All we know is the shortcomings of our army."

  "On that we agree.” Ann leaned on the desk. “Army? If you can call it that."

  To concede one sister over the other was costly, but Antonio decided. “Elizabeth is right. To do anything now would be foolish."

  Ann looked stern. “This Gaston is not like other rebels we've trampled before. He's—"

  "A thorn in my side that will be eliminated soon enough, just like all the others.” Antonio dismissed them. He heard their grumbles as Ann and Elizabeth left, but did not care.

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  Chapter 10

  Gaston sat on a rock deep within his dark cave, but caught the flicker of a candle and knew Sarah approached. He sharpened his sword, but stopped at the sound of soft footsteps.

  "Why are you sitting here in the dark?” She sought to make his solitude akin for her loneliness, but that was not his concern.

  "Not being able to see will develop my other senses.” Gaston grinded the sword again, knowing Sarah watched him in the dim light.

  "Everyone is ready,” she reported.

  Gaston's growing band had readied quickly. They marched through the night-silent behind him, never questioning Gaston's destination. The drawbridge gate of the former Tumard castle was closed, and Antonio's troops marched up and down the fort's walls and towers.

  "His first conquest.” Gaston perched in the distant tree. “Yet it is poorly defended and cared for by the King. Does he know nothing beyond his own decadent walls?"

  "The perfect target.” William offered Gaston his eyeglass and smiled.

  "How many do you think?” He took the scope.

  "We could take them,” the boy piped.

  Gaston smiled. “Yes, I think we shall. Antonio's walls are about to fall."

  * * * *

  Elizabeth stood above and looked down at Samantha as she dabbed the fountain's lily pads with a stick. Romina's room had become her own. Sometimes it was shared with Antonio, but not always.

  "Why don't you spend a little more time worrying about your own daughter?” Ann stepped onto that fateful balcony with Elizabeth. When he wasn't with her, Elizabeth knew Antonio was with Ann. Her sister had become devious like Antonio—in addition to being his mistress.

  "My daughter is not the one questioning what will happen to her on her twenty-first birthday."

  "So strange, that my daughter is so like you.” Ann looked at Samantha also. The girl, it seemed, carried her mother's physical traits alone.

  "Victoria is ornery like you.” Elizabeth turned a cautious air to her sister. “Do you think that makes me proud? Pride is a weakness. Antonio's faults have placed us in this position."

  "What position?” Ann said. “Our children will defy nature, mature as they will, master the elements and the power of the animal."

  "Stop reciting that bloated double talk.” Elizabeth looked away again. “You know not what it means, nor do I."

  "I know what immortality is, as I'm sure you do."

  "Fear of fire and dismemberment is not immortality."

  "It has to be done.” Ann switched tactics.

  "It will kill her."

  "It will kill us all."

  A scream rang out below, then a splash. A man bellowed with laughter

  "Stephen!” Ann yelled at the dry blonde haired boy in the courtyard. “You leave your sister alone!"

  "Maybe you should concentrate more on your son.” Elizabeth sneered and went back into the castle.

  * * * *

  Samantha stood in the fountain and held her dress in her hands.

  "Stephen!” She wrung out the underskirt of her dress. “Some twin you are!"

  "I'm just having fun.” Stephen fiddled with her dabbing stick. Samantha was but a few moments older, but younger and free willed Stephen had no ambition beyond fun, toys, and games.

  A dark-haired boy walked into the courtyard. Composed and well dressed, he matched Samantha more in demeanor than his own younger twin, Victoria.

  "Samantha? Miss wants to know if you are baking with her.” He relayed the cook's message, but Samantha saw his eyes drift up and down and take in her state. She took his hand for leverage and climbed from the fountain.

  "Thank you, James. I'll get to the kitchen as soon as I clean up."

  James turned to the kitchen with a whip in his long ponytail. Where Stephen played, James educated himself and brought the desperately needed humility to the servants.

  "James.” Samantha wrung her shirtsleeve. “I've been meaning to talk to you."

  Stephen jabbed the air in a mock sword fight but paused. “Samantha, will you be asking every King in the Isles his opinions of our twenty-first birthdays?"

  "Victoria told me you questioned Father.” James eyed Samantha's twin. The four siblings got along, as far as people their age did. She was glad they weren't as antagonistic as their rivaled mothers.

  Stephen smirked and went back to his sword fight. “I've never heard of anyone getting a bad gift from their parents."

  "What if you don't like the gift?” Samantha said to James.

  He thought for a moment. “I guess the gift is what you make of it. If you don't like it, just make the best of it."

  Samantha looked over James’ shoulder and locked eyes with Victoria. She rarely joined with them, and as soon as Samantha saw her, Victoria was through the dining room and gone from the courtyard.

  * * * *

  Gaston charged out of the burning fort and waved his sword frantically. “To the woods, men. To the woods!"

  Was it his sword, or had he taken it from a soldier he killed? Thrilled and feared, horses, rebels, and soldiers scattered everywhere. The heat of fire reached them all. Gaston saw William and caught him. “Did we get everything?"

  William nodded the affirmative, and they ran into the woods with the rest of the rebels. The soldiers ran down some of their horses, and several mounted and took up the chase.

  "Split up, men!” Gaston sprinted in another direction. He ran toward the wooded path. He looked behind him for the soldiers, then jumped out into the road.

  A horse charged before Gaston and reared up on his hind legs. Gaston froze under the rearing black beast and his trampling hooves. The hard ground was not favorable to him, no matter how powerful the horse. He looked past the beast and saw Victoria.

  Gaston quickly collected himself. He jumped up and grabbed the rope on the horse. He steadied the animal and leaped on top of it.

  "What do you think you're doing?” Victoria exclaimed. Gaston shoved her up on the horse's withers and yanked on the rope. Kicking the horse's sides, they charged off toward the river.

  Gaston sped their party to the water's edge. Nero dug his hooves into the mud, and Victoria slid away from him. The horse cooled from his rough ride and munched by the riverbank. Victoria sat on top a huge boulder, now the picture of prim and proper.

  "How dare you!” She pouted as Gaston paced.

  "Would you mind telling me what is going on?” Gaston did not answer. He went to the horse and patted him gently.

  "You seem quite friendly with my horse."

  "I have a way with animals."

  Victoria slid off the boulder, but Gaston looked to the sky. “It will be dark soon. My friends are probably looking for me."

  Gaston felt the sharp, shiny, bloody sword tied to his back and briefly felt shamed by his boyish rags. No, he was a true rebel at heart.
He had vigor.

  "Nero is tired. It will take longer for me to get home.” She lessened her snotty tone.

  "Nero, is that his name? It suits him."

  Victoria jumped on the horse and took the rope. “I should be going."

  "Wait. Tell me your name."

  "Victoria."

  "I am Gaston.” He bowed.

  Victoria smiled and nudged the horse toward the woods. “I shall remember that. I hope you find your friends well."

  * * * *

  The late afternoon sun shined in her window, and Ann stirred in her bed. The room had changed little since she first came to what was then her uncle's castle, but much had passed in her bed—including the birth of Samantha and Stephen.

  "You're catching the last rays.” Antonio looked beyond the window curtain. “Dinner will be ready soon."

  He smiled and approached her. Ann was glad he had put his vile ways aside and focused now on his charisma and charm. Antonio climbed on the bed and kissed her.

  "Why can't it always be this way?” she asked softly. His anger had eventually been forgotten. His desire was perhaps always more powerful, but her fate was sealed. Antonio was married to Elizabeth. It was not a question of loyalty or guilt; Ann just hated being second. At least her children had come first.

  "This is the way it is, but soon all will be fun and games.” He handed her a dress from the floor. “You best be getting downstairs."

  Antonio left the room, and Ann slid the gown over her head.

  He chose her, yet he chooses us both. It is not fair!

  * * * *

  Ann came to the dinner table fashionably late and sat opposite Elizabeth. Antonio sighed, no doubt catching the subtle bicker and protest between them. Ann, however, noticed Stephen's quick entrance as he sat down across from Victoria.

  "So kind of you to join us, my dear.” Antonio relaxed at the head of the table.

  The broad cook, Miss, came out of the kitchen and set the main courses on the table.

  "My favorite, Miss!” James smiled at the servant, caring not for her bursting bodice and dirty apron. Stephen reached up to snatch a biscuit, but Samantha lightly smacked him. The door opened, and a soldier entered.

  Antonio showed his irritation. “What is it?"