Thicker Than Blood
Page 8
Their hotel was in a place called Ayvali. Ben googled the place, found the hotel and clicked on the room images. They were proper caves, done out like posh hotel rooms. He clicked on some of the links. It looked like Cappadocia was a full-on tourist resort now. They had hot air balloon trips and horse riding tours, cave expeditions and all sorts of stuff. Lucky no one had discovered the vampire city yet. Well, if they had, they probably wouldn’t be around to tell the tale.
‘What are you doing mooching down here all by yourself?’
Ben turned around to see Esther poking her head round the door, frowning at him.
‘It’s no good you hanging about down here. Come on upstairs, you can give me a hand.’
‘But I’m just …’
She’d gone before he had a chance to reply, her feet clomping back up the stone steps. Ben grumbled to himself and powered down the laptop. He dragged himself up the stairs and into the kitchen where Esther was unloading the dishwasher.
‘With Morris gone gallivanting, I need a bit of muscle to help me out.’
Ben waited for her instructions. He knew she was humouring him – even though Esther was small and trim, she was as strong as an ox.
‘How’s that hand of yours?’ she asked.
‘Fine.’ It was still a bit bruised that was all. He was a bit embarrassed about the whole ‘punching the door’ thing.
‘Good. There’s a pile of wood in the shed that wants bringing in. And when you’ve done that, the bins need emptying. I’ll make us a spot of supper for when you’ve finished.’
Ben wanted to argue, but he couldn’t be bothered. What else was he going to do? And she’d never asked him to help out around the house before. He supposed he was lucky really.
‘Morris’ gloves are in the shed. Put them on so you don’t get splinters.’
Ben trudged out to the hall.
‘And don’t forget your coat! It’s freezing!’ she called after him.
Ben grabbed his parka off the peg. She treated him like a two year old, but he didn’t mind too much. He knew she meant well. She drove Maddy nuts though and he sometimes worried that Maddy would be so rude, the Foxtons would leave. He opened the front door and a sharp gust of wind hit him full in the face. God, it was freezing and he’d lost his hat. He zipped up his parka, lowered his head and battled through the wind towards the outbuildings round the side of the house.
The shed smelt of creosote and wood shavings, a great smell in Ben’s opinion. He spied Morris’ work gloves on one of the shelves, picked them up, put them on and grabbed a wheelbarrow. He headed back out to the wood pile and spent the next forty minutes filling up the huge log baskets in the four main reception rooms. It was warm work, but his face, hands and feet still felt like slabs of ice.
‘Can I take the rubbish out after we’ve had dinner?’ he asked Esther, shrugging off his coat and putting it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs before plonking himself down at the table.
Esther pointed to the coat and then to the door. Ben sighed and took his coat out to the hall when he shoved it back on the peg. He came back into the kitchen where a haze of delicious cooking smells made his stomach gurgle.
‘It’ll take you two minutes to empty the rubbish, by which time supper will be ready.’
‘Okay,’ he replied and went into the utility room. ‘Where do I put it?’ he called out.
Esther came into the utility room. ‘Put the normal rubbish in the wooden store outside the back door and put the recycling in the green box next to it.’
Ben picked up the first of the trash bags and lugged it outside. He wished he’d kept his coat on. He flipped open the lid of the wooden store and heaved the bag inside, wrinkling his nose at the sour smell. He chucked the last two plastic sacks in and then moved on to the recycling, dragging the box outside. Nearly done and then at last he’d be able to eat something.
A piece of screwed-up paper stuffed down the side of the box caught his eye and made him suck in his breath. It looked like the note from Maddy’s kidnapper. But Alexandre wouldn’t have thrown that away, so what was it doing in the recycling? Maybe Alex had misplaced it. Ben reached down and picked it up. He flattened it out against his leg. It was blank. He turned it over, but that side was blank too.
Ben frowned and examined the paper. There was no doubt in his mind that it was exactly the same kind the note had been written on – a small rectangle of white mottled paper. It didn’t make any sense for the paper to be here in their recycling box. Had the kidnapper written the note here? And if they had, why would they have bothered to put this blank page in the recycling? What did it mean? Ben didn’t know what to do.
‘How are you getting on?’ Esther called from inside. ‘Supper’s ready!’
Ben stuffed the paper into his pocket. ‘Coming!’ he shouted.
*
The first thing Alexandre saw when he opened his eyes was the grey felt roof of the van. He sat up and gazed beyond the open van door at a quarter moon, its surface pockmarked with orangey craters. He still had difficulty believing than Man had walked upon it. Imagine that.
Morris Foxton stood to the side of the van door and then leant forward, holding out his hand. Alexandre didn’t need the caretaker’s help, but took his hand anyway out of politeness.
‘Thank you, Morris,’ he said, lightly exiting the vehicle. ‘I trust everything is going according to plan?’
Morris gave a nod.
‘Let’s open the other crates.’
Alexandre glanced around. The night was cold and still, the air cleaner and sharper than in England. Morris had parked their silver hire van behind a stand of trees set back from the main road. Mounds of cliffs and lumps of rock jutted out behind them. He remembered this strange jagged landscape from his last visit. It was like nowhere else. One hundred and thirty years had passed since he was last here. That long-ago time had turned out to be the most eventful few months of his life. So much excitement and adventure, before the terror of that awful night.
He and Morris set to work opening the other crates. This morning they had flown from Birmingham Airport to Istanbul and then taken an internal flight to Nevsehir Airport in Cappadocia. Morris’ plane had landed at seven o’clock in the evening, but it was ten fifteen by the time he had collected the hire van and loaded the five crates. They had decided it would be wise for Morris to drive to a secluded spot before opening up the crates.
‘We’re about half an hour from the hotel,’ Morris said.
Alexandre glanced at his watch. It was already eleven twenty. The night was rushing past. As they levered open each crate, Alexandre was relieved to see everyone safe.
‘Sunrise is at half past seven,’ Freddie said, hopping out of his crate.
‘So we still have most of the night,’ Isobel said.
‘Come on, let’s get back in the van,’ Alexandre said. ‘We can’t afford to waste any time. I’ll drive.’
Morris didn’t protest. He climbed into the back with Freddie and Jacques, while Leonora and Isobel sat up front with Alexandre.
‘Do you think they know we’re here?’ Isobel asked.
‘I am sure of it,’ Alexandre replied.
He drove quickly along the empty road. He didn’t speak, although he could hear Jacques and Freddie chattering in the back. Lights glowed in the hillsides. It didn’t feel like the Cappadocia he knew. This place felt tamed with its tarmac roads and electric lights. Soon, however, they crossed a small bridge and he took the turning for the village of Ayvali. Here, away from the main road, their surroundings became more rustic. The road narrowed and soon it became apparent that the van wouldn’t make it. Alexandre swore, reversed and got out of the van. He opened the back.
‘We’ll have to find somewhere to park. The road’s not wide enough.’
‘You go up on foot,’ said Morris. ‘I’ll park it and join you later.’
‘Thank you,’ said Alexandre, handing Morris the keys.
The five vampires walked up
the lane towards the hotel. A large squarish building at the base of the hill, gave way to rising tiers of rock behind which housed a honeycomb of rooms carved out of the side of the steep hill. Winding staircases crisscrossed in front of the caves and skinny trees shivered on the slopes.
They would check in and then scout out the area. This place wasn’t what he had expected. If felt like a beautiful tourist resort, not like the wild and strange place it had once been. But if Madison was here, he would find her.
Chapter Thirteen
Cappadocia, 575 AD
*
The months blurred and Aelia’s life took on a pattern which she accepted. This was her life now. The days and nights grew chillier, and soon, another bright, cold winter was upon them, polishing the air and giving the barren landscape a sparkling clarity. Widow Maleina thrust a handful of blankets in Aelia’s direction and in amongst them was an extra thick woollen tunic and hood, for which Aelia was very grateful. She had been with the widow for over three years now and, although she wasn’t exactly happy, she wasn’t exactly sad either.
Aelia had learnt a great deal from the widow and she enjoyed the freedom she’d been given. Her only causes for concern were thoughts of her family and the loneliness of her current life. She was lucky if she spoke more than a sentence to the widow in a day and she rarely spoke to any of the patients who visited the cave. If anyone addressed her directly, the widow would interrupt them, or send Aelia off to do a task elsewhere. She often ended up talking to herself for comfort.
One morning, she awoke as usual, but something felt slightly different. It was always quiet in here, but today it felt more so. There was a hush. The widow had already left, so Aelia stretched her body and hurriedly dressed. She splashed her face in the icy spring and walked down the narrow passageway towards the entrance. Feeling a crunch beneath her foot, she looked down - Snow. It had drifted into the passage and as she stepped outside she was greeted by a world in white. Swirling wet flakes melted onto her cheeks. She smiled and pulled her hood up. Then she set off to catch up to the widow, whose small footprints were barely visible.
She hadn’t walked very far, when she heard a shout. Aelia turned to see a cloaked figure standing near the cave entrance. A man. He had called out her name. Aelia’s heart sped up. She recognised that voice. She ran towards him, her heart full of joy.
‘Father!’
He looked hesitant for a moment and then he opened his arms to her. She fell into them, warm tears streaming down her cheeks. She had tried not to think too much about her family as it only made her sad. But now, faced with her beloved father, she let herself give in to the feelings she’d been trying to block out - a mixture of loneliness, humiliation and anxiety.
‘Come now,’ he said, holding her close and then stepping back from the embrace. ‘What are these tears? I thought you would be pleased to see me,’ he said, trying to lighten things.
But Aelia could see the emotion in his eyes.
‘How did you find me?’ she asked.
‘That’s not important,’ he said. ‘But I promised your mother I would find you and now I have. My little Aelia, you have grown into a beautiful woman. A little thin, but beautiful nonetheless.’
‘Come, Father. Come in out of the snow and warm yourself.’
What did it mean that her father had come to find her? Had she been forgiven? Would she be allowed back into the village? She busied herself stoking up the smoldering fire and put some water on to heat. Her father drew closer to the flames and held his hands out to warm them.
‘I was told you live with a healer,’ he said.
‘Yes. She found me after … after … Father I’m so sorry for everything. I’m ashamed at what I did. I hope you and mother and my sisters didn’t suffer for my actions.’
‘That is in the past. There are now more urgent matters to attend to.’
Aelia handed her father a cup of tea and he cradled it in his hands, blowing on it.
‘How did you find me?’ she asked again.
‘It took me a while. I asked around and picked up a little gossip here and there. Does the woman treat you well?’
‘Yes. She is strict, but not too unkind.’
‘I trust you’ve heard about the barbarian invasion?’
‘Widow Maleina says it’s nonsense.’
‘Well it’s a good thing Widow Maleina isn’t in charge.’
‘I think she knows things others do not,’ Aelia said, surprised to find herself defending the widow to her father.
‘That’s as maybe, but there is no time to debate the wisdom of your wise woman. Everybody knows the barbarians are coming. They are close now and will be here before a year is up. We have almost finished our preparations and I have come to tell you there will be a space for you when we descend.’
‘A space?’
‘Yes. Below the ground, we will have our own room and there will be space for you.’
‘For me? But I was banished. How did you manage it?’
‘Never mind how I managed it,’ he said. ‘You must come at the appointed time and we will all descend together. The entrance to the underground settlement is located outside the village, at the cave with the chimneys. You must be there at sunset on midsummer’s day. That is the hour we shall descend.’
Aelia knew the cave well – an eerie place surrounded with rumours. As children, they had all believed it to be haunted. She had only seen it a few times, but everybody knew about the cave with the five stone pillars. It was said they were the chimneys of an ancient god who had been banished underground for all eternity.
‘So am I to stay here with the widow in the meantime?’
‘Yes, I’m sorry, little one, but I could not manage to persuade them otherwise. Here ...’ He handed Aelia a piece of crumpled parchment which she unfolded. ‘A map from here to the cave. It is a straightforward journey and should be no more than a day’s walk. You must set off early that day.’
‘Only a day’s walk? But when I left, it took so long to get here. I must have wandered in circles.’
Her father set his drink down and cupped her face in his hand. ‘I’m so sorry you had to face that alone, but I knew you would survive it. You have always been a brave girl.’
‘Really? You think so?’
He laughed. ‘Yes, really. Don’t you feel brave?’
‘Not at all. I always seem to be terrified of everything.’
‘Courage is all about continuing on despite your fears. And, my little Aelia, you have continued on.’ He kissed her forehead.
‘Widow Maleina must come too.’
‘I don’t think so. It was hard enough to get a space for you. I’m not sure they will allow it.’
‘But I can’t just leave her to the mercy of the barbarians. Not after she took me in.’
Her father sighed. ‘Very well. Bring her along, but I can’t guarantee they will let her descend. Every space has been accounted for. There is a list.’
‘We’ll manage it. That is if she’ll agree to come. She doesn’t believe in the invasion.’
Her father looked distracted.
‘What is it?’ Aelia asked. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’
‘I know it was Lysus Garidas,’ he said quietly through gritted teeth.
She gasped. How could he know? She was too scared to ask. She didn’t want to speak about this with her father. He was talking to her like an adult and it made her feel uncomfortable.
‘You were both seen,’ he continued. ‘But the girl who followed you, neglected to mention that she also saw him. Only your name was given to the Praetor.’
So someone had followed her and Lysus? Aelia felt mortified. Who could it have been?
‘It doesn’t matter who it was,’ her father said, reading her thoughts. ‘But I got the truth from her, and now Praetor Garidas knows it too. His son is the one to blame but he escaped punishment. That is how I got the Praetor to relent and save you a space below the ground.’
‘Praetor Garidas sent him to live in the next village on some pretext or another,’ her father said. ‘And it is a good thing too, for I don’t think I could have looked at the boy without …’
‘Father, I’m sorry.’ She put a hand on his arm.
‘Let us not dwell on it further. We will all be together soon and we can find you a suitable match. You are nineteen now – a little old to be a bride.’ He gave a sad smile. ‘But you are pretty enough for your age not to matter. We will put all that business behind us.’
A suitable match? The reality of going back home was starting to sink in. How would she be able to face her friends and neighbours? Surely they would shun her.
‘Much as it pains me, I must leave you now, daughter. I have been gone too long.’
‘Already? But you must meet the widow. She’ll return before noon. You must stay for a few hours at least.’
‘I wish I could stay a while longer. I’ve missed you so much and it is wonderful to look upon your sweet face after all this time. But I promised your mother I would return with news. She’ll be sick with worry.’
‘Very well.’ Aelia looked down, desperately trying not to cry. ‘Will you at least stay for breakfast?’
He smiled. ‘That I can do.’
Chapter Fourteen
Present Day
*
How long had she been shivering in this damp unlovely place? There were no windows so she couldn’t even gauge what time of day it was. Maddy’s earlier panic had quickly morphed into boredom and frustration. She paced the floor, stamping her feet to get some warmth into her chilled bones.
‘Come on!’ She hammered on the door with her fist. ‘Someone tell me what’s going on!’ If anyone was outside, they weren’t answering. What else could she do? She thought for a while, trying to decide what the best strategy would be. Well, maybe she could try and get friendly with the vampire girl. Didn’t they say it was a good idea to try and make friends with your captors? She was sure she’d seen that in a documentary. Or was it in a movie?