by A. Rosaria
Christine squirmed in her seat and looked around her for a place she could run. She gritted her teeth. It was no help if she ran; she had seen how fast he was, how quick he killed two men. He would catch her. She saw his sad smile and stopped looking for an escape. The way he sat—holding the rein loosely in his hand, his shoulders slumped—in no way gave any sign of him wanting to harm her.
“What is your grief with my father?”
“He was about your age when I promised him that I would take a child from him, not the eldest nor the youngest. Chance had it I came upon you.”
She drew back a little. “You are going to take me?”
“Or your sister.”
“You‘re lying. You don‘t look old enough to have known my father when he was young.”
He scratched the back of his head while grinning. “Well… I‘m much older than I look. I looked the same now as when I met Robert.”
A chill shot up Christine‘s back. Sure, there was no hostility coming from the man, but he was obviously mad. “Who are you?”
“You have no need for my name, later perhaps. Your father knew me as the dark wanderer. They might still call me that around these parts.”
Her eyes grew larger. Christine had heard the songs, folklore, full of myths and embezzlement. She never thought much of it, but among them she had heard songs about the dark wanderer, the man that whisked maidens away who had dared walk alone in the forest. She pulled her dress closer to her, fear knotted her belly tight. “What are you?”
He smiled. “Finally you ask the right question. I‘m an immortal with a craving for human blood.”
“No!” Christine stood up. In her hurry to get away, she fell from the wagon headfirst. She squeezed her eyes shut. The smack on the ground never came. Instead, she fell into someone‘s arms. Her eyes fluttered open to deep red eyes, the stranger‘s eyes.
“No, what? My lady.”
“No, you can‘t have my sister.”
“I don‘t want to take you, but I‘ve a promise to keep.”
She started hitting his chest. He put her back down and held her wrists.
“Not her, please don‘t take her.”
“Listen,” he said forcefully. “I like you and I don‘t often like humans or any other creature. I also liked your father, but the bastard almost killed me, so I had to punish him. Bad was his luck that you jolted my memory. Your sister will be mine.”
Was this true? Was this really happening? “You can‘t take her. I won‘t allow you to defile my sister.”
“Defile? Rape?” he said, laughing. “Silly girl, I don‘t rape. I usually get what I want, no force involved.”
The more he talked the more confusing it became. Why am I still standing there listening to him? she thought. Her eyes darted sideways. Maybe if she got help from the castle, if she could reach the castle that was. No, too far, she needed to do something else, anything to stop him.
“Don‘t,” he said, “don‘t make your father‘s mistake.”
“You read minds?”
He only smiled at that and kept silent.
“Take me instead; spare my sister. If you like me as you say, at least grant me that one wish.”
“Are you sure? You don‘t even know what I‘m going to do.”
“Then tell me,” she yelled, forgetting the fear knotting her belly, “tell me.”
“I‘ll turn you into what I am, a monster filled with darkness, darkness that will eat all the light that lives in you, that is if you can‘t control the urges. You‘ll die and be reborn; with my guidance you might keep some semblance of yourself. It‘s easier done if you give yourself unselfishly, much more difficult if you really want it. You‘ll turn a ravenous fool like the others.”
Christine face turned ashen. “Die?”
If her life ended, she‘d never get to love someone, have kids of her own, and have a prosperous, fulfilling life.
He shook his head. “Children you won‘t bear, though love you can have, but forget the farmer boy.”
She blushed. He indeed could read minds. When she thought about kids and someone to love, it was James‘ face that flashed in front of her. Christine bit her lip. James was a bridge she crossed and fell off. There was no going back there anymore. “I‘m yours.”
“You won‘t change your mind?”
She shook her head.
“Fine.” He pulled her closer.
“Wait. Can I say goodbye to my family? To my sister.”
“Not your father. I don‘t want him to come out rushing to defend you. I‘ll love the fight, but not so much having to kill him.”
“Lord Robert won‘t care,” she spat out.
“I see,” he said. He stayed silent for a long while, making Christine feel anxious about what his answer would be.
“You‘ll have until midnight. If you‘re not back by then, I‘ll take your sister instead.”
He let her go and she immediately went on her way. By the time she reached the gates, darkness had set in. The many torches on the wall and at the gate lit the area in an orange-yellowish hue. The gates were still open, but she wasn‘t sure the two guards that stood watch would allow her to enter. She looked like a beggar with her dirty and torn clothes, mud-smudged face and mud-caked hair, not the kind of person the guards would let in.
“Who goes there,” the older guard called out.
His gray hair stuck like straw out from under his helmet. His body showed he spent most of his time sitting or standing, and hence he had the typical gut she associated with old guards who after decades of service gave up training daily. The guard next to him was much younger: lean, fit, still green, and not disillusioned with eternal guard duty. He still obviously trained regularly. He was in the prime of his life and had a handsome face. Christine sighed. She had had it with men today, and forever it seemed. She had seen them before. However, she wasn‘t sure they would recognize her when she got closer.
“Speak up, girl,” the younger one bellowed.
“I‘m not just a girl. I‘m Lady Christine, daughter of your lord.”
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. The young guard pointed at her. “Lady Christine in beggar attire?”
The old man bellowed while smacking his knees, tears rolling from his eyes.
Their mocking faces, their tone addressing her, Christine felt her cheeks flush. She balled her hands into to fists and stepped into the light of their torches. “Take a good look, peasants.”
Their faces turned grim. The old guard glared at her, his hand on the pommel of his sword. At least they look at me now, Christine thought. She closed the distance. Their eyes widened, and they quickly lowered their heads, while muttering their excuses. The old man let go of his sword‘s pommel as if it had burned his hand. She brushed past them, ignoring their pleas for forgiveness. She didn‘t care; she had one thing to do before she went and died. She had to save her sister from Eadric. With the truth she would break that nice exterior he used to swoon Lyna with; there couldn‘t possibly be any love between them after she told her sister everything that had happened.
Christine walked with her head held high, crossed the courtyard to the castle. Once inside, she was glad to have not stumbled on any of her father‘s knights or advisers on her way up to her room. She really couldn‘t afford to explain to anyone why she looked like she did or that her present state be brought up to Lord Robert. She knocked and called out. The servant girl opened the door dressed in her sleeping gown. Christine quickly entered and locked the door.
“My clothes,” the maid said, chocked.
Christine ran to the wooden cabinet, rummaged through her things and found a small silver bar. She pressed it in the servant‘s hand. “For your troubles, now please leave me.”
The girl wanted to take the gown off, but Christine stopped her and told her she could keep it. Next, she rushed her out her room, locking the door behind her. The room was tidy, small for her standing, but comfortable and luxurious to most. This
might well be the last time she would live life like this. She shrugged out of the rags she had on and cleansed her body and face as well she could. In her wardrobe she sought out the plainest and sturdiest gown she could find and put it one. On her feet she put on some simple poulaines and didn‘t bother with a hat. Once dressed, Christine rushed out her room.
She made her way to Lyna‘s room. Standing in front of the door, she hesitated. Telling her about Eadric and then disappearing on her would be a heavy blow to her sister. She would be leaving Lyna alone in a loveless castle with her heart broken by an unsuitable suitor. Christine could feel the burden it would be for Lyna not having her in her life. There was no other choice. She had already spared Lyna the fate of becoming a monster, of living forever and wandering the world. She paused at that and felt somehow excited. She didn‘t really want it, or did she? She shook the thought away and put her ear against the door. It was silent behind the door. Christine knocked. There was no turning back now. She waited and knocked again.
The door opened and a drowsy Lyna opened the door. “Christine?” she said while rubbing her eyes.
“We need to talk,” Christine said.
Lyna‘s face lit up, grabbed Christine‘s hand and pulled her in giggling. “So do I.”
She led Christine to her bed, sat down, and pulled Christine next to her. The sight of Lyna so happy gripped her heart and twisted it into pieces with the knowledge of the dark message she had to give her.
“Something great happened today,” Lyna said.
“Oh Lyna, I—”
Lyna grabbed Christine‘s hand and cupped it in hers, while bouncing up and down with excitement. “He said it… he came to me out of breath, a wild animal with the nicest prose, and told me he loves me.” Lyna blushed. “And we kissed and then as quickly as he came he went again.”
Christine turned her lips up in disgust. “Eadric?”
“Yes, him. Isn‘t it great? He kissed me, my first kiss. I love him and he loves me.”
The bastard, Christine thought, he knew I would tell. She clenched her teeth. Any other day she would have walked away and left her sister with the little happiness she had, but not today.
“You can‘t be with him.”
Lyna blinked in surprise. “I can‘t?”
“He‘s not good for you.”
It hurt watching her sister‘s happy smile vanish and how lost she looked at her.
“Eadric is not who you think he is.”
Lyna‘s lips formed a thin line.
“He‘s mean and vindictive, and he hates me, today he—”
Lyna pushed her away, stood up, and pushed once more. “Get out.”
“But—”
Lyna yanked her up and pushed her toward the door. “Out.”
“Don‘t cast me away, not you too.”
Lyna stood in front of her, her arms tensely stretched at her sides, her kind eyes now flashed rage. “Take it all back or leave my sight.”
“He hurt me; he defiled me.”
Pain exploded at her cheek where Lyna‘s hand struck her. Christine recoiled back, clasping her hand against her cheek. Tears welled behind her eyes.
“I hate you,” Lyna said. “Leave me and never come back.”
The words stung much worse than her burning cheek. She couldn‘t swallow, breathe, or say anything. She wobbled around and staggered out the door. She heard Lyna call after her, angry words or words of forgiveness, of sorrow, she didn‘t know. In that instant, she ceased to care.
In one day love had betrayed her. All she held dear had abandoned her and only a monster wanted her. She felt her tears slide cold over her cheeks. Why cry? she thought. Death waited for her, didn‘t it? She had a choice. The monster, the man, the dark wanderer, or whatever his name was, he waited for her and whatever choice she made he would get what he wanted.
She opened the door to the tower and climbed the stairs, darkness swallowed her from sight. Alone, away from everyone, she felt at peace and made her choice.
***
The dark wanderer leaned his back against the wagon. Time went by slowly for humans, but for someone like him that had seen centuries pass, a few hours was nothing. He had all the time he needed and some more. At times, time went so quickly that he would miss the chance to fulfill a promise made, as almost had happened with his promise to Robert. A few decades ago he would have yanked the baby from the mother‘s teat and drank the juicy young baby blood while the arrogant bastard watched powerless. He huffed, who had guessed even he could grow up.
A howl filled the air. He was sure the sound would unsettle the guards at the castle, maybe even a certain young knight. He chortled. The wolf howling at the full moon was one he knew all too well and he was so close yet so far. Apparently he was wrong; he didn‘t have all the time today. He had to give up the chase for Christine. It didn‘t really matter. That wolf was the only one he couldn‘t beat; the outcome would turn out a stalemate again, though he longed for a fight he could lose. He would leave it for another time. The howl boomed in the night, farther now, a goodbye howl maybe, a see you soon one more likely.
Time, again with time, unoccupied time made you think about things. He watched the moon. It was a nice moon today, a full moon, a moon that gave strength to his kind. He had closed a deal, something new. He would get the wolf on another full moon, for today he‘d make himself a daughter. They had spent a short time together, a fleeting moment really, just a few hours, but he sensed a certain fearlessness in that girl, and a deep-rooted darkness not unlike his own. He smiled his vilest smile. He should do something about his vindictiveness; he had been lacking lately, almost forgetting this one little promise and loosing out on such an addition.
The moon crept higher in the sky. It was close to midnight. He wondered how long she needed to sing her swan song. They were probably crying, full of sorrow about her imminent departure, or could it be she had changed her mind? Was the lure of a life among lords and kings too large for her that she would forgo her sister for life in wealth and power? Power, really, what use was power if someone like him could come in and sweep that castle clean before the break of dawn? But what would the fun be in doing that besides pissing off the hierarchy of his sort? Still, unlike his brethren, he didn‘t crave blood or tradition all that much.
If the girl didn‘t return, he‘d take the sister instead, but he wouldn‘t turn her, he would rip her head off and just take a sip of the blood, crush the head, and throw it in Robert‘s lap. Oh, how would that bring back old memories. He‘d take his leave then and close this chapter in his life. He sniffed the air. No, there was no need to do that, she was coming.
***
Christine crossed the courtyard. The same two guards still stood watch, turning around to greet her. They must have recognized her for they quickly turned back, staring straight ahead and their bodies held rigid. She went through the gate without a word to them. If they were smart, they would soon forget about this day. Would her father come to hear that they let her pass unburdened? They would be flogged and doubtless worse for it.
The path ahead was dark, but there was only one that led to the wagon. There was no way she could get lost unless she meant to get lost. Soon she would give herself to him. Christine didn‘t know what to expect, but how much did she really care about that? A change in her life would make it possible for her to put everything behind her and with time she would forget.
While hiding in the tower, she had thought about her life. She had cried. Despaired. She realized she had never been loved, that love was an illusion, and that having a family, being highborn, having wealth and power meant nothing. Her own father despised her, her future at the castle was to be a commodity to be married out to garner favor or as payment for services done, and her being the third child she would likely end up married to a lowly knight, just like Lyna would to that despicable Eadric. Foolish Lyna, so much her father‘s daughter.
Only Claudette will be married to the right suitor, with name and in
fluence, and Aaron would inherit the castle, the wealth, the power and titles. Father‘s two darlings, but she couldn‘t blame them. It wasn‘t their fault their father loved them most. However, they knew they were the favorites and they acted so, admittedly Aaron less than Claudette, but for how long would Aaron stay sweet before he also would give her that look of being somehow superior, more deserving and whole?
“You came,” the wanderer said.
Jolted out of her thoughts, Christine looked up, startled. He was nowhere to be seen; the dark shade surrounding her covered everything a few feet from her. She continued walking. The wagon appeared and on top he stood looking down on her, grinning.
“You said your goodbyes?”
Christine nodded.
He jumped down from the wagon lithe like a cat. His eyes glowed brighter the closer he got. Was she really seeing them glow or was her mind starting to play tricks on her? She lightly touched the side of her head near her temple. Her head seemed lighter. She swayed, not able to control herself. He plucked a strand of her hair back and caressed her cheek. She wanted to do something but her arms hung lifeless at her sides.
“I will not lie to you, this will hurt. Don‘t scream.”
He stood there one second and the next she felt his fangs pierce her skin. Life returned to her arms. She stretched out her rigid muscles. She opened her mouth to scream but moaned instead. She relaxed and embraced him, gave herself over, gladly.
Her lightheadedness intensified the longer he sucked her blood. She couldn‘t take it much longer. She felt her conscience slip away. He dislodged his teeth from her neck. Bit his wrist and pressed it against her lips. His blood was hot, painfully so.
“Suck it,” he said.
Christine sipped the blood first. He had a strong taste she couldn‘t place. She grabbed his wrist and pressed it against her mouth. She started sucking, and after each swallow, she sucked greedier. The pain that throbbed at her neck abated and so did her sore muscles and bruised body. He wrenched his wrist free and looked her deep in her eyes. Was this it? she thought.
“Now the hurt begins,” he said.
He pulled his hand back, his fingers close together and pointing at her with his sharp nails. He pushed his hand forward, piercing her chest. Inside, he twisted his fingers, cutting her artery. Christine gasped, recoiled away from him, and collapsed. White flashed in front of her eyes. Her muscles seemed on fire. She breathed in heavily, tried at least, but she only managed to wheeze and no air came. She tried to stand but her body failed her. She fell flat on her back, convulsing. She cried. She had so hoped that her last tears were shed inside the tower.
