VROLOK (23 page)

“I will never come back here, but I want to stay young,” she said. “I know you know the secret. Tell me what it is?” she begged.

“There is no secret; he was telling you stories to seduce you.”

“No he wasn’t, he never touched me,”

Isabella smiled. To her surprise she was glad at hearing this. She still loved him.

Isabella took the Countess to the Hungarian troops and followed for a few days while they took her home. Erzsébet’s husband took her back willingly. Isabella decided to visit Katalin while she was there.

“When did Vlad come here?” she asked Katalin.

“He came at night about a month ago.”

“Did any one else see him apart from the Countess?”

“I did. He almost killed me, but then he realised I was a Slovak. He asked me who my mother was and who my grandmother was. I think he knew or at least suspected who I was.”

“He knew I would find out about the Countess,” Isabella thought aloud. “Did he plan to take the Countess after you told him who your ancestors were?”

“I think so, yes.”

“He was testing me. He wanted me to find out to see what my reaction would be. He still cares for me,” Isabella smiled. She was willing to forgive, or at least forget Vlad’s earlier betrayal.

“What’s wrong?” said Katalin.

“Nothing.”

“You look almost happy.”

“I am…I am going home, I will come back to see you soon.”

Isabella returned home that night but what she did not realise was that the Countess had heard all of Isabella and Katalin’s conversation. The Countess approached Katalin after Isabella had left.

“You know that woman?” asked the countess.

“I do,” said Katalin.

“What is the secret?” the Countess begged.

Katalin looked at the young countess and sensed an opportunity staring her in the face. Katalin answered, “Blood, my lady, Sanquis est Via, the Blood is the Life.”

MAKE ME IMMORTAL WITH A KISS 

CHAPTER TEN

Isabella travelled quickly back to the castle; she could not wait to see Vlad again. She still loved him; she knew she always had. Isabella had looked for years for the slightest excuse to return to him. However, she was not so naive that she believed this love of hers would ever make her happy. It would make her miserable and she knew it, but being in this world without him was agonizing. She had to be near him and she hoped that Vlad wanted her back as well. He had made no attempt to chase after Erzsébet and she hoped that Vlad had only taken up with this child to make her come home to him.

Vlad himself was eagerly awaiting her return. He knew she would return after she had so quickly whisked the girl away from his company. He too longed to see her for he loved her completely. Vlad also realised that a lifetime spent with this woman could be heartbreaking, but life without her was unbearable and insignificant.

Isabella entered the castle and searched for Vlad. He was not to be found. She waited for him and when it was nearly morning Vlad returned to her. An hour before his return Isabella had become tired and crawled into her chest to fall asleep. When Vlad saw the chest in the corner of the room he was overjoyed, but he would not visibly display his rapture. For each partner in this relationship would not show their true feelings to the other. For that would mean showing a need or a dependence on the other and they believed that this would show a vulnerability that each one of them would be able to use against the other.

Isabella awoke and climbed out of the wooden chest. She sat down beside him demonstrating little more than indifference. He returned this with only a slight smile of greeting crossing his lips. Vlad made no vocal acknowledgement of her return and after a few moments of silence, Isabella began to speak.

“We should leave here for awhile,” she said.

“We?” Vlad asked.

“Yes, we should leave this place; it is filled with nothing but sour memories for both of us. We should find somewhere different to live, see if we can try to live together…without being tempted to kill each other,” Isabella said with a wry smile.

“Have you got somewhere in mind?” Vlad asked.

“Anywhere, it doesn’t matter, as long as it is far away from here.”

“We are safe here,” Vlad stated.

“I have realised that we can be safe anywhere. The world is riddled with war, disease and famine. We can hide ourselves amongst the humans anywhere. Death is not such a strange event that it cannot be explained by some reason other than us.”

“Is this what you have been doing for the past century, living among the humans?”

Isabella smiled. “Any humans I have lived among have not lived long.”

Vlad smiled at her. “All right, we will go travelling together to see if we can live with each other, as you say.”

After a few weeks the pair left and started to travel throughout Europe for the first time together. Before long they arrived in England and decided to settle near London. Isabella saw England as just another place to see. She had never been impressed by progress or the beauty that she witnessed in the world, but Vlad on the other hand loved the place. He loved the history of the country; it was so like his own land—there had been the crusades to defeat the Turkish moors and the history of the royal courts was filled with intrigue and plots against the kings and queens of the time. But the reason he loved it most of all was that as well as its history of plots and conspiracies, it had managed to modernise itself and become a huge power in the world. This is what Vlad had wanted for his own land and because of this he admired this country greatly. Vlad would have been happy to stay there forever, with Isabella’s company, of course.

Isabella, on the other hand, was different; she was a maverick and had a naturally nomadic nature. She never wanted to stay in one place for any length of time; she was restless, eager to travel, and any country she occupied was merely a stepping stone to the next destination. Things around her would, to a certain extent, impress her, but she did not think that any country held enough allure for her to remain there long.

Vlad for the moment was staying in England and had no intention of leaving. So to appease himself and Isabella they both decided to have Isabella travel around the country, thinking that she would eventually get her restless spirit out of her system. This was enough to placate her at least for the time being and she began to explore some of the country alone. Although Isabella loved to travel, she would not wander far or for very long on her own, however; she left Vlad for only a week at a time, as she could not stand any more time apart from him than that.

Isabella’s exploration of England consisted of travelling from inn to inn in the guise of an English noblewoman named Helen Hawthorne. On a dark winter’s evening her coach driver had been forced to stop because of a storm, and Isabella found herself in an Auberge that was a little less reputable than she was used to. While she was waiting for her room to be prepared, she sat down beside the fire to warm her cold hands.

A man had been watching her from the instant she entered the room. He was a young and bright-eyed man, who was observant of everything that surrounded him. By his demeanour he was obviously intelligent and well-educated and looked out of place in this establishment. He had caught Isabella’s eye for no other reason than the fact that she had caught his. He was drinking very heavily and talking and laughing with his friends but he hardly ever lifted his eyes from Isabella. He gazed over at her with a constant smile upon his face.

Isabella smiled back at him. She liked gazes like these. Vlad would never look at her like this, at least never when she could see him. This young man was looking at her with eyes full of admiration. Isabella’s admirers were repaid with their lives; she didn’t like to kill anyone who paid her a compliment.

One of the young man’s friends shouted at him, “Recite us a poem, entertain us!”

“I think I will,” he said. He climbed up onto the table with his pitcher of ale still in his hand and his voice carried into the crowd, “A poem translated by myself, called “The Seduction of Corinna” and dedicated to the woman sitting beside the fire.”

There were lascivious roars from his friends and the rest of the people in the tavern. Isabella was silent; maybe she would kill him, she thought. Crassness and exhibitionism never impressed her. The young man began his verse.

“Stark naked…”

He paused to receive more lascivious roars from his audience.

“As she stood before mine eye,

Not one wen on her body did I spy

What arms and shoulders did I touch and see;

How apt her breasts were to be pressed by me!”

He paused again to take a swig of his ale and again to receive a rapturous and gleeful applause from his audience.

“How smooth a belly under her waist saw I!

How large a leg, what a lusty thigh!

To leave the rest, all liked me passing well.

I clinged to her naked body, down she fell

Judge you the rest, being tired she bade me kiss…Jove,

send me such afternoons as this.”

Everyone in the tavern was clapping for the young man and begging for another brazen verse.

“No, friends, I have said enough this evening.” He bowed. “Till next time.” The man jumped off the table and walked over to Isabella, who was the only one in the tavern who had not been impressed by his performance. He sat beside her, which she thought was quite presumptuous, but she let him sit down opposite her because she was growing hungry.

“Can I get you a drink of something?” the young man asked.

“No,” Isabella replied firmly.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked her.

“What have you to offer me?” Isabella inquired with disdain. “What I mean to say is you have the look of a man who does not have anything, apart from a wicked tongue. I wouldn’t offer gifts that you cannot deliver.”

“I would rob and steal for such a beautiful lady,” he said, in a mocking tone.

Isabella, growing impatient with the man‘s impertinence, replied “Such talk can get you killed,”

“A small price to pay for such a vision,” the young man said, and he laughed. He was spewing out these eloquent phrases with a licentious smile. He was sincere in what he was saying, but he was drunk, and trying to seduce the Vampire with his own wicked sense of charm.

Isabella’s icy countenance was beginning to soften a little and she sat with him for awhile talking. He was consuming jug after jug of ale, and getting steadily more and more inebriated. After a few hours he eventually passed out. Isabella was slightly flattered by him and she would not leave him in such a condition with the thieves and cutthroats that frequented that establishment. Isabella helped him to a room and waited for him to awaken.

He awoke very late the next afternoon; rubbed his eyes cautiously and sat up on the bed that Isabella had procured for him. He looked around the room and spied Isabella. He smiled over at her, but as he did so the previous night’s drinking hit him, and his smile turned to a grimace and he rubbed his throbbing, clammy head.

“I am surprised you can sit up at all,” said Isabella. The young man sighed.

“You are not going to lecture me on the evils of drink and tobacco are you?”

“You are feeling the evils of them well enough with out me saying a word,” Isabella replied.

“Oh, no, even worse than a lecture, you are being self-righteous.”

Isabella had been accused of many things but never of being self-righteous. She smiled and said, “Were you trying to impress me?”

“That depends,” he said, attempting to smile.

“Depends on what?” Isabella asked.

Still trying to focus on Isabella, he smartly remarked “On whether I succeeded.”

“I cannot say I am ever impressed with men of your kind,” she replied.

“And what do you know of my kind?” he asked.

“Nothing, but your countenance and manner suggests I would not like to know.”

The young man, very sure of himself, replied, “I, on the other hand, would enjoy getting to know you.”

“I am sure you would,” Isabella sighed. This was just another young fool with no visible depth of character. He could make her smile and she was flattered by him, but that was all the charm he held for her.

“Well, I will leave you now, I am sure you have other women to impress.” Isabella got up to leave.

“Wait, what is your name?” the young man asked.

Isabella replied without giving the young man a second glance. “Helen,” she answered as she walked out his door. She would meet this man again quite soon under very different circumstances.

Isabella was walking through the streets of Canterbury a month later when she heard a raucous sound coming from a nearby alleyway. Keeping herself hidden, she crept up to where the noise was coming from. Two men were attacking a much younger one. The young man was getting badly beaten. He kept getting up to face his attackers again and again, even though they were obviously too strong for him to ever gain the upper hand. Isabella recognised the younger man; it was the salacious poet she had met the previous month. She took it upon herself to intervene on his behalf.

“I don’t think this is completely fair,” Isabella said. One of the attackers, who was holding the young man up by his shirt, was distracted at the sound of a woman’s voice. He relinquished his grip and dropped his victim into the dirt of the ground below. Again the young man struggled back onto his feet to face more punishment. Isabella still could not be seen. One of the men walked a few steps in her direction, hoping to see the woman that belonged to this voice.

“This is none of your affair,” the other attacker said blindly into the darkness.

“I am a good citizen. That makes it my affair,” Isabella said contemptuously. “I am wondering why you are beating up a defenceless boy.”

“I am not a defenceless boy,” the young man shouted, spitting blood over his would-be murderers. “Excuse me sirs, I am sorry if my blood has marred your clothing.” The young man started to laugh as he mockingly tried to wipe away the blood that was now all over his attacker’s clothes. He is drunk again, Isabella thought. “As I was saying, I am not a defenceless boy.”