Count Rothchild Read online

  Alfredo took the wine bottles and thanked both Chee Chee and Hagar. Chee Chee was smiling and moved his head up and down after giving the men the bottles. He also gave them a big furry thumb up.

  Jonathan then asked, “Maybe you could help us. We seek a graveyard where it is said a blue mist comes forth every so often. Do you know of such a place?”

  Hagar smiled. “I do!” He then gave directions, offering but one simple phrase of advice. “There is nothing wholesome about this mist. Do what you must, but find a way home quickly, my friends.”

  The men thanked this odd pair before returning to their camp. The merchants soon were on their way along the road; their rest time over.

  “Well, that was interesting,” announced Doctor Stewart.

  The others seemed to agree. They attempted to gather in more rest, all except Emin now on watch. The doctor examined the bottles by the firelight and noticed that their label read DeAbleau Fine Winery. He had never heard of such.

  Chapter 9

  The men were up early and soon making way. Later in the afternoon they came upon a rise and saw an old caretaker’s cabin in the distance. There to the right was a cemetery, and they went that way. They were to wait for a blue mist at night, and that evening such a mist came in and, as they rode their horses into such, they appeared on another road.

  Van Helsing then announced, “That, my friends, was a gateway, and conduct to this new land. We are no longer on kingdom grounds. This is a place I know not of. Keep a keen eye out and be on your best; who knows what we shall encounter now.”

  Mounds of dirt were all about, yet nothing came from such. The men rode on as fast as they could.

  They soon stopped and asked a band of traveling gypsies where they could find the master of these lands.

  The vagabonds seemed to chuckle at such a question, yet answers were given and the men carried on. It was west they went, traveling onward without hesitation. They passed by dark woods, swamps and more before arriving at a dark brooding castle. Most people, they assumed, knew it was best to stay away from such a place.

  Darkness had settled in, yet a drawbridge surprisingly was down before them. The four brave souls went onward directly up to the keep’s front double doors. Above there were figures of winged birds looking down at them. They seemed almost real, acting as watch dogs for this creepy estate.

  Alfredo was first to give his thoughts. “This seemed too easy; the road and the place almost beckoning us to dare to carry on. Do you all feel as I?”

  Jonathan did not care; he went to the doors more closely now. The others did feel the same.

  Two monster knockers stood before Jonathan, one on each large wooden leaf. The doors were locked and he was not about to knock on either. The men worked in unison and began trying to break them in. The solidness of such gave no budge.

  Then the very stone ornaments above, the statues of horned gargoyles, swooped down and attacked them.

  The pair were a bluish-gray in color, each the size of a large man, yet wider. They were ugly creatures, having large pointed ears, each with wings, and horns sprouted from the top of their heads.

  The men drew forth their magical blades, each a long sword of matching style. The weapons lit up now; the pearl inlay, the stars, glowing and pulsing with power; lucky for these men, or they could never have harmed such creatures.

  The gargoyles clawed and bit out at the four intruders, yet every time any of the men cut into such, the wounds were vastly effective. Each man suffered claw marks, cuts and bruises, yet were prevailing in the fight.

  Jonathan slashed open one of the beasts’ stomach and soon he was joined by Van Helsing, who skewered it in the ear.

  Doctor Stewart was hurt most, as one of the birdmen pummeled him down and once on top bit a nasty rip into his left cheek. Alfredo got to it in time, though, and rammed his blade through the thing’s back.

  The blades of each man, their newly discovered rare weapons, continued to help them win the fight; soon the creatures transformed into what appeared to be full stone, that of the same color they actually were. Neither was moving and looked to be finished.

  A plan was in order, thought Professor Van Helsing. “Let us use their stone forms to heft up and slam the door open. It shall be like a battering ram,” he announced.

  A few minutes later the doors were finally open.

  Once inside, they searched the rooms all about, seeking Gaylen, their magical swords still aglow via the pearl star markings.

  As they reached a higher level, they ran fast with courage in their souls now, barging into a chamber and finding her and a dark-haired man sitting beside her.

  Jonathan gulped as he saw his wife sucking on the man’s arm.

  The count was performing a saving grace, letting Gaylen take from him his own blood.

  Professor Van Helsing yelled to the others, “There he be, the creature of the night; we must act together, men. Now is the time!”

  Their weapons were out and ready, though each man’s hands trembled with a sweaty feel at the task at hand.

  Van Helsing grabbed his kit, tearing it open for the tools he so needed; the others ran at the count and to rescue Gaylen.

  For a moment the young woman felt a pain in her heart, knowing well that the count had sacrificed himself for her own well-being. She thought to herself that in another life she could have loved him, for there was goodness within him, a charming man indeed in the lost history of his youth.

  Gaylen was the one facing the intruders, and he lost in the act of her taking his blood. Rothchild was incoherent as to what was happening. It was to be his end, she knew it.

  Emin and Alfredo grabbed Rothchild as weak as he was, and held him down; their blades now at his throat. Jonathon ran to Gaylen and lifted her off the bed at the same time. Van Helsing rushed forward, cross, stake and hammer at the ready.

  “Have faith in the power of the Lord,” he cried. “We all must have faith.”

  He then placed the ashen wooden stake to Rothchild’s heart, much the same style as when they put Lucy out before. As he raised his hammer, everyone saw time come to a reduced pace; it was as if everything moved in slowed motion.

  From behind the long exotic draperies to their right, a gigantic man, he who was close to seven-foot tall with long dirty blonde hair, grabbed Van Helsing’s arm and in one swift motion threw the good Professor over his shoulder into a glass mirror across the room.

  Everyone screamed. Van Helsing was unmoving after such a devastating throw.

  That didn’t stop Dr. Stewart from preparing to drive his blade into the heart of the dazed Rothchild, but as he moved in for the thrust, a woman was before him from out of the shadows, a red-haired woman who pushed his blade aside and raked a long hot claw across his cheekbone. The doctor flew back as a result, toppling over the bed and onto the floor.

  Alfredo knew not what to do, his blade still at the drained Count’s throat. He would slice it either way, he thought, and did just that. It ran across his neck opening a large gash.

  Then another man, a solidly built, shorter vampire, dropped from the ceiling, tackling Alfredo. He was strong and caught Alfredo in motion as he tried to cut the new arrival. He then twisted Alfredo’s arm nearly off, forcing him to release his sword. He kicked Alfredo backwards, sending him to the floor, his magical sword released.

  Jonathan had spirited his love away some now and ran with her in his arms out the doorway, down the hall and stairwell and into the main foyer of the castle.

  Their escape did not go unnoticed. Claudiva was on them and, as they ran to escape, she flew down from above and landed, guarding the double doorway exit. Gaylen was set aside on a bench and it was then the man rushed at her with his glowing star blade.

  He thrust its tip at her chest, but she parried his stab and disarmed the weapon in a flash, tossing such to the marble floor. She gave him an evil grin, mocking his attempt to harm her.

  She then grabbed him and began gouging her long finger
nails into his temple areas. The fool collapsed. Claudiva went next to Gaylen. She lifted her up, letting her feet dangle off the floor.

  Gaylen pushed her hand into the red-headed monster’s face, but Claudiva bit a finger off, taking Gaylen’s special diamond engagement ring with it. The young bard screamed.

  Claudiva then spit out the ring, which clattered across the floor. Looking now at this cute blonde, the one found in the count’s bedchamber, made her furious. She would bash her head in soon as well. But, as she continued to hold Gaylen up, the man, her rescuer, was back, driving his recovered blade into the vampire’s side.

  Claudiva let go of Gaylen, dropping her and turning about ready to finish this man.

  The count himself, however, floated down the stairs and came before all.

  “Do not harm her. I gave her my word,” he called out.

  Claudiva, whose wound was already healing, looked to Rothchild, irritated. “Since when has your word meant anything?”

  Everyone in the large hallway saw that Count Rothchild’s neck wound was already fully closed.

  Again, brave Jonathan came at her, wasting no time once more. The diva of the mist kicked his thrusting arm to the side and in one swift motion spun about and slammed her heel into his jawbone. It sent the courageous cattle rancher spinning in midair and thus landing hard on the stone hallway floor.

  Again Claudiva moved towards Gaylen, lifting her up, this time with one hand. She shifted to Rothchild.

  “Why should I not smash her into nothing? Do you love her … don’t tell me you have fallen for this puny mortal. What could she offer you other than more pain, more suffering?”

  Gaylen breathed shallowly now. She was awake and her neck was at least about fully healed. The missing finger area burned so badly, though; she was in tremendous pain. She looked to the count, hoping he would stay true to his word.

  He then announced to the woman holding her up, “Let her go, and I will join the other ancestors, the other nobles, and we will prepare to bring back the foe of mankind, the first of our kin.”

  The diva released Gaylen to the floor.

  Gaylen crawled to lean against the wall and Jonathan came to her, kneeling beside her, hurt bad himself. It took all he had left, but remarkably, he lifted her up and ran through the open castle doors.

  Meanwhile, the fighting continued upstairs. Alfredo tried to fend off the giant minion, Sebastian - the creature hissed his name as a taunt - yet he was too strong. Alfredo was torn apart. Van Helsing had his hands full with the rugged smaller vampire, Mavark. He, too, crowed out his name. These sidekicks of Claudiva were her strongest allies.

  The remaining brave souls that fought them held on, and their weapons did well in combating the beasts. The brown-haired, mustached doctor, a mustache covered now in his own blood, was able to strike a good blow on the bigger one from behind, but it sealed his fate thereafter. He was soon smashed through a nearby window and tossed from the second floor.

  Van Helsing was the final one left. The professor was in no shape to last much longer. He took his sword and pointed it at the minions of the cruel vampress downstairs. The black blade had its pearly white stars aglow more than ever and it was then he recited his final prayer.

  “Oh, hear me now, Lord, oh Lord; spurn these wretched creatures and give onto me one last chance to send such away.”

  The vampires moved closer; both mocking his summons.

  As far as those below knew, the three men were dead upstairs, as an eerie silence now fell over the entire keep. Claudiva and Drakko, now alone, stared at one another in the hallway.

  Drakko broke the silence. “Why did you come and save me. I was fine to leave this world once and for all.”

  The diva shook her head. “No, that’s not how this is going to end, my dear. Our story has only just begun.”

  Chapter 10

  It was a rather nice, late fall afternoon out on a mountain crest overlooking the water, be it next to the lighthouse at the official ceremony of the wedding of Jonathan and Gaylen. They had been married very privately via a local priest a while back, be it a quick event, yet today the real wedding took place with a gathering of guests. At first it was fine never to have such a get-together, so much had happen as of late, but each had changed their minds and wanted something grander, one to share with others.

  The bride looked beautiful in a white gown adorned with colorful pink and green flowers. She had upon her blonde tassels a veil of white and green as well. Jonathan himself wore a tailored black jacket and matching pants with a white shirt. He looked handsome, and proud to have such a brave and beautiful young woman as his bride.

  Friends and family gathered at this vacation resort area and it was a grand day indeed.

  The couple took each other’s hands as all about them children tossed flowers. They now exchanged rings and vows when the sun crested down upon the ocean water. A flutist and violinist played a beautiful song and all attending had a smile on this day of love.

  Plenty of time had passed now, and as the story went, a young scribe had traveled to learn many things in a far-off land. There, she was besieged with nightmares, and held prisoner by a madman called Drakko Del Rothchild.

  Seeking to rescue her, Jonathan, with fellow comrades Alfredo, Doctor Emin Stewart and Professor Van Helsing, sought to recover her. The story as written by the now Gaylen Hartsell, be it at this public moment no longer a Van Warden, went into much detail about the brother of Dracula. It was quite informative and the public took to such. All of Jonathan’s traveling men were killed in battle as noted. They were heroes of the finest kind and spoke about quite often as such. The tragedy involved only added to the tale’s mystique.

  Her story was well received, but the pain still lingered.

  They said time healed all wounds.

  In time, Gaylen’s story was a bestseller. She had ended the piece with the following words:

  ‘There can be no big achievement as to walk along safe ground; the unknown is what is most interesting.’

  It all was in the past now and today’s wedding was proceeding very well. Amongst the hustle and bustle of the after-party, Gaylen noticed a man in a dark suit, one with small spectacles hiding his eyes. He wore a tall, black top hat as well.

  Upon looking to him, he tipped his hat to her.

  She went to him, moving around other guests quickly, but before she could reach him, the man was gone. Other men dressed in black were around, some even had top hats. She looked everywhere but none were he.

  Snow began to fall; it was a new beginning indeed.

  It was one thing to have lost a finger, but what ate at the young woman most was the losing of her engagement ring that day. At that time she did not have a marriage band.

  Jonathan knew it bothered her and he had it replaced. Of course, it neither was exactly the same nor was it the original.

  The single diamond, that which had a rarity of reddish heart made of ruby seen within its structure, was so unique; there was no matching it, in truth.

  Gaylen continued to tell herself as well as her husband that she was fine with her new one and now a golden marriage band beside it. He was adamant about one matter; that she was never to return to that island and seek out the ring.

  For once Gaylen listened.

  Months later the couple had a child, a boy they would name Paublo.

  PART TWO

  Chapter 11

  Twenty-three years later

  A notice had been placed about the inns and taverns all around the coastal lands. It was a proclamation of sorts, one seeking adventurers; all interested parties should travel to Traybore Island, for great awards awaited those with a brave heart and talent in arms.

  Small print at the bottom of such a note it read as so:

  Those afraid of the dark should stay clear. Come forth on midwinter's night, be it the stroke of midnight at the DeAbleau Estate. You cannot miss it; we are the largest and only vineyard on the isle.

  Thoug
h many saw the notice, traveling to an offshore island, be it an unknown one to most, and meeting at midnight, probably nobody would even show up.

  Paublo Hartsell, the son of Gaylen Van Warden Hartsell, was a solid-looking chap and, on the stroke of midnight, well, he pounded on the big island home’s door. He had adventure in his heart and this would be his first big calling. He had answered to the notice.

  A well-dressed, tall black man with the cleanest of a shaven head and bluest of eyes answered the door. He was then inviting the young fellow in.

  The servant nodded. “Please, come in. Dinner has been served. I am Abdul Wen Allah; the mistress is glad you have come.”

  Paublo thought a midnight dinner was odd, to say the least; at the table before him, a long dark-haired woman stood as he entered. She had high cheekbones and was rather tall and muscular.

  “Greetings and welcome; I must say you are the only one that has taken up my notice! I am Tatijana Von Drakenfell DeAbleau. Do join us.” This imposing woman had an accent, one he had not heard all too often in his young life.

  Moments later, from a corner archway, a stocky man with a long mustache and a walking cane, perhaps a royal of some nature, also appeared.

  He with a slight bow announced, “Thank you for coming. Please dine with the countess and I while we tell you about the situation at hand.”

  Tatijana introduced her husband next. “This is the Count Eric DeAbleau, owner of our vineyard. We are happy to have you here.”

  Paublo had it now; her accent was as if she was pronouncing all ‘W’s’ as ‘V’s’.