“Dracula?” Florescu asked, stunned when he realised the identity of the intruder.
“Yes, I wager you did not expect to ever see me.”
“You are a ghost.”
“A ghost seeking a confession,” Ilona said. “You have one chance to tell all.”
“To tell you of what?”
“What you did to my mother and my brother!”
“I can see you have your own ideas on that. What do you want me to say?”
Dracula looked to his son. Varkal accepted his cue and grabbed the old man by one of his ankles. Without further ado, he tore away a chunk of Florescu’s wasted calf muscle with his teeth.
Florescu screamed in agony, jolts of pain shooting through his body. The chunk of flesh bounced off his chin when Varkal spat it at him.
“Tell me what you did to my family. If you do not, my son shall strip your bones clean.”
“He is your son?”
Ilona grabbed his left hand. She drew a dagger and sliced his palm. “Answer my husband.”
Florescu cried out again. He pressed his wounded hand in against his chest. Blood dripped from it onto his withered skin, forming clots in the wisps of white hair. “What do you want me to say? They were casualties of war!”
Dracula knelt down and punched him in the nose with a straight left hand from close range. It burst and poured blood. Florescu’s eyes watered as his blood ran down over his lips and into his mouth. He turned onto his side and began to groan quietly at the stinging pain.
“What did you do to her?”
“You know what I did!” Florescu screamed. “Kill me, and be done with it!”
“You would like that, I am sure.”
He put a hand to his throbbing nose. “Is that not why you are here?”
“Yes,” Dracula agreed. “You shall die this night, but I intend for it to be slow,” he said, taking the dagger from Ilona.
Florescu looked at him, afraid of his intentions. “So you know,” he said, finding some courage, “I fucked your mother like the Draculesti whore she was.”
Dracula ground his teeth in anger. He ran the blade from Florescu’s sternum to his groin. The cut was only a little deeper than the surface of the skin.
Florescu stiffened from the shock, and his body opened up down the middle. Dracula made a second incision across the inside of his thigh. He then turned sharply and threw the dagger at the first of the two men to run into the room. It hit Aurel full in the throat, and dropped him. Varkal pounced on Alin and relieved him of his blood.
“It is time to leave this place,” Ilona said.
Dracula looked down at Florescu as the old man slowly began to bleed to death. “Where do you want to go?” he asked her.
“Show me the world,” she said, a tinge of excitement in her voice. “Take me to Rome.”
Chapter 21
ROME PROVINCE. THE HOME OF VANNOZZA
DEI CATTANEI. THE RIONE TRASTEVERE IN
THE CITY OF ROME.
JUNE 14, 1497.
Giovanni, Cesare, come inside. Dinner is served.”
“Yes, Mama,” the Borgia men answered in unison.
Giovanni turned his head in her direction. “We shall be along in a moment.”
Vannozza left her sons in the gardens. The brothers had argued much that afternoon. They took their discussion to the vines and away from her ear.
“What is it that troubles you this day, Cesare?”
Cesare looked at his brother. He did not want him to see what ran through his mind. “It is not you,” he said, looking away at the vines. “I am tense because of the morrow.”
“You cannot look at me when you say that?”
Cesare turned and glared at him. Giovanni saw a lot of pent-up anger behind his brother’s eyes. It had always been there, for as long as he could remember. These days, it had taken on a more serious edge, and it worried him. “You have always had issue with me,” he said. “Even when we were boys.”
“What do you expect?” Cesare almost shouted back. “It is hard to bear when you are overlooked time and again.”
“We are back to that once more? Father loves you as much as he loves me. It is only you who cannot see that.”
“He does not bestow his grand gifts and titles on anyone, save you.”
“He gave you the archbishopric of Valencia. So what ails you?”
“It hardly compares to a dukedom and Captain General of the papal armies. To make it worse, he wants to give you fiefs in Napoli. It has plunged us into war.”
“So that is what rests at the heart of this. You are afraid to go to war?”
Cesare grabbed him by the collar. “I am as good and brave a soldier as you can ever hope to be.”
Giovanni laughed at the look on his face. “You are always so serious.”
Cesare pushed him away. “It is not right that our father favours you so. He has always favoured you.”
Giovanni tried to put an arm around his shoulder to placate him. “Stop, Cesare. This shall only serve to upset Mama.”
Cesare shrugged him off. “It is as well for you we are in her house.”
His brother recognised the threat. “She has laid on a grand dinner for us. We can talk about this more on the morrow, on our journey to Napoli.”
Many people of note sat at the dinner table. There was never a shortage of dignitaries who sought invitations from the Borgias. On this occasion, Vannozza had only sent out invites to those she thought of as close friends.
Cardinal Monreale sought the attention of them all. He stood up with his goblet of wine in hand. “I propose a toast to the two finest young men in all of Rome.”
“To Giovanni and Cesare,” everyone said, raising their drinking vessels.
Even the toast annoyed Cesare. He hated how everyone touted the name of his brother before his own. His mother looked over at him. She knew him so well. When he caught her eye, he smiled. He surprised her and all those present when he stood up. “To my dear brother,” he said.
Giovanni smiled for their audience. He knew the toast was to impress them. Even with the motive behind the action, he thought it an odd thing for Cesare to do.
“You must be very proud,” the cardinal said to Vannozza.
“I am,” she said, smiling. “How could any mother not be?”
“I know their father, the pope, sees them as his pride and joy.”
Her face soured at the mention of his name. “And so he ought,” she said, a tinge of bitterness in her voice.
A man, donned all in black and wearing a mask, walked up to the table. His presence alarmed Vannozza, and she saw it as an imposition on her party. He leaned on her son’s shoulder and spoke quietly into his ear. Giovanni smiled and nodded. Her son obviously knew the man.
“How rude to come to my dining table wearing a mask!” she said out loud. “I did not hear anyone announce you.”
Her eldest son raised a hand to calm her. “One moment, Mama.”
Some of the others at the table seemed to take offence also. No one walked in on a private dinner. But they said nothing. Anyone could see Giovanni knew him.
“Who was that?” Cesare asked him, once he had left again.
Giovanni did not want to discuss it. “He is a friend.”
“I have seen him around a few times of late.”
“As I said, he is a friend.”
* * *
AFTER Brasov, Dracula took the others around Europe. It was a most exciting time for Ilona. She had spent a little over four years alone with her husband after her change before Varkal joined them. They used that time for her to adjust to her new life and powers. It was also a period for them to reacquaint.
Ilona longed to travel. She had seen nothing of the world outside Buda. In her mortal life, her duties at the court of King Matthias restricted her. Then came marriage and motherhood. It meant she had rarely, if ever, left the palace.
She took her chance now. Her husband had taken his revenge against Florescu
. There was nothing to keep him in his homeland for the present.
They passed down through the Italian states. The main cities heaved with people, and the vast mazes of tiny streets allowed them to go unnoticed. They found these to be the perfect place to meet all their needs.
Dracula managed to keep their stay in Florence short, for it brought back too many memories of Piera. His time with her was one he did not want Ilona to know of. He was glad that Ilona was not as strong as him and unable to have the power to fully read his thoughts, and he could keep it from her. Florence reminded him, too, of the eldest Borgia son. He had seen images of him in Piera’s memory. They all showed how he had tried so hard to seduce her.
He knew the Borgias resided, in the main, in Rome. It pleased him then when his wife developed a love for that city. Their time there he used to good effect. It was a chance to learn the haunts and habits of the Borgias.
It proved easier than he thought to befriend Giovanni. The eldest Borgia son took to anyone who looked like they had money. He was a man of great wealth himself, but his name and money had made him a snob, and he spent his time only with people of a similar ilk. Dracula taught him a lot about politics in a very short time. Giovanni gave his new friend his trust and came to depend on his advice.
The Borgias fascinated Dracula, as he found them rotten to the core. Rodrigo remained the head of the family. Through bribes and other intrigue, he gained election as pope in August, 1492.
He used his position to amass even greater wealth. This he did to bestow status and titles on his elder two sons. He was prepared to commit any crime to do this. Those included many murders. He even plunged the Italian states into war to pursue his need ofendowing fortunes on them. Such a war loomed now with the Kingdom of Naples.
* * *
CESARE knew the stranger, and had met with him a couple of times. Their first meeting stood at the forefront of his mind now, after seeing him with his brother.
It took place in the Rione Borgo. This rione formed the northwestern section of the city. Cesare liked it for the quiet streets and seedy taverns. It was a good place to do business, and here he could find the right men to execute his plots and schemes.
He was looking for a good and reliable assassin. His contacts led him to a noisy tavern deep in the rione. The man he sought liked to visit here, coming to drink, throw dice, and sleep it all off with one of the girls.
His men pointed him out to Cesare. He saw the man engaged in his usual pastime. A large group of women crowded around him, suggesting the dice were kind to him on this night.
It surprised Cesare that his own presence in the tavern did not attract much attention. Perhaps other nobles and men of substance come here to wash their dirty linen. He forgot the man he sought for a while. Far too many people surrounded him at present. He sat in a corner for a quiet ale with his four men sat close by.
He eyed a stranger who sat alone in a corner wearing a mask. The man stood out from the rest. Quiet, mysterious, and all in black, he too had the look of a gentleman. It made Cesare curious that he could find such a man in here. The mask suggested he had something to hide. To sit in a busy tavern and keep his identity unknown, for that there had to be a reason.
The stranger saw at once that Cesare had noticed him. Cesare did not disguise his interest, nor the fact he was keen to meet him. He sent one of his men to request the stranger join him at his table.
Dracula accepted the invite. He sat opposite Cesare with his back to the room.
“Thank you, signor, for joining me,” Borgia said.
He bowed out of respect.
“Would you care for a drink?”
“No, but I thank you,” he declined. “There is not much here that suits my palate.”
“Then why frequent an establishment such as this?”
“I do not frequent it.”
“But you are here.”
He offered a slight nod.
“Perhaps the girls interest you?”
Dracula stood up, having grown tired of Cesare Borgia already. When he rose, a few of Borgia’s men stood up too, offended by his action in the presence of their master.
Dracula stood firm. “You should advise your men to sit. They would not be able to prevent me walking out the door.”
Cesare kept his calm and smiled. “Do sit, if you will. I did not mean to offend you.”
Dracula sat back down. “You ask many questions of me. Is there a motive for that?”
“I am curious to know more of you.”
“Why would you care to know of me?”
“You look as though you do not belong here.”
“Neither, sir, do you. Yet here you are.”
Cesare grinned. “Indeed, I am.”
“If you are looking to see the dice thrower, you are wasting your time.”
“Who?”
“Do you really want to talk with me? Or do you want me to leave?”
“The dice thrower, yes.”
“Take a good look at him.”
“I do not need to.”
“You would trust a matter so delicate to one such as he? To one who drinks and gambles and spends what he does not lose at the table, on whores?”
“You do not know my business with him.”
“Everyone knows, killing is his business.”
Cesare looked embarrassed. “Then perhaps I want someone killed.”
“Then why trust one so unreliable? Men of his like leave trails, a trail that could lead all the way back to you.”
“What do you know of such things?”
“Killing is also my business.”
He waited to see what reaction his revelation might spark. Cesare did not flinch.
“The difference between he and I is that I leave no trail.”
“So you are good at what you do?”
“I make the kill swift and clean. If I do not want my target to know I am there, then my target does not know. Not till the very last moment.”
“I am intrigued.”
“As well you should be. There are none better than I.”
“Is that why you hide your face?”
“You do not want to see my face.”
“Why not? I would like to. I would pay for the privilege.”
“Only those I kill ever see my face.”
Cesare’s face turned a little red for the first time.
“You have seen me once.”
“When was that?”
“Some years ago.”
“Where was this?”
“In Florence. You were perhaps thirteen years old.”
“And you think I can remember that?”
“I am sure you do.”
Cesare took some time. He thought back to his time in Florence at that age. “I do not recall you.”
“Do you remember a girl who played the harp for you?”
“Yes, I remember her. Not her name, but I recall her.”
“Her name was Piera.”
“Yes, that is right. What of her?”
“One night when she played, you saw me on the balcony.”
Cesare remembered that moment at once. “That was you?”
“Yes, I let you see me.”
“Why would you?”
“I wanted your brother to see me, but he was transfixed.”
“And why were you there?”
“I was watching over Piera.”
“But how? No one could get onto that balcony.”
“I managed it. It was not so difficult.”
“If you were there, what did I say to you when I was outside?”
“You said you did not know where I had gone, but you knew I was there. ‘You may hide, but I know you can see me and hear me.’”
Cesare thought back to it. “Yes, that is what I said.”
Dracula waited while his host thought back to that occasion, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“I do not feel so comfortable that you were on the balcony,” Ces
are said. “And you are here before me this day.”
“I did not go there to harm you.”
“And on this occasion?”
“I do not intend to harm you this day either.”
“Then why are you here?”
“You invited me to sit.”
“What are you doing in the tavern?”
“I have seen the dice thrower at work. I know this is as good a place as any to tout for it.”
“You are looking for work?”
“Of course, I was correct in my assumption.”
“Quite.”
“You are a man looking to hire a man such as myself?”
“I might be.”
“Then I am available. I shall make it quick and clean.”
“And there would be no connection to me?”
“No, I never leave a trail.”
Cesare noticed the hilt of the Fier Negru. “That is quite a sword you have.”
“It is one of a kind.”
“It is Spanish?”
“You have a keen eye.”
“How much would it cost for me to have it from you?”
“You do not have enough money to buy this sword.”
He saw right away that he had offended the young Borgia.
“I am a very wealthy man.”
“Then you can afford to hire my services.”
“And the sword?”
“It is not for purchase. There is no fortune that would persuade me to part with it.”
“How do I know you are as good as you say?”
“Hire the dice thrower and see where it leads you. Or you can do it through me.”
“What is your price?”
“That depends on who it is you want me to kill.”
“You do not have a standard fee?”
“The more important the target and the greater the risk, the higher the fee.”
Cesare nodded. “The greatest care needs to be taken with this task.”
“Then you are speaking with the right man.”
“You believe you can do it?”
“There is no man safe from my scrutiny.”
“Not even I?”
“Not even you.”
One of his men stepped behind Dracula with a blade in hand. In a lightning action that the others could barely see, Dracula rose from his seat and landed with his feet on the table. Already with sword in hand, he spun around, lowering his stance as he delivered a fatal blow.
The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels Page 159
