The Stuart Vampire

by Andrea Zuvich

  As if that were not enough, another horror came to light. Soon the whole village knew that she — unmarried — was pregnant. It was a sin of the worst kind. Those who had once been civil to her now looked the other way when she walked through the streets, her belly blossoming with child. Despite being ever polite, and saying, “Good morrow” to all those she passed, she was the subject of the villager’s malice. Try as she might, she could not ignore their cruel whisperings, or fail to notice how they pointed their fingers rudely in her direction. She was an outcast, and Belinda was seen as something akin to a saint, for keeping her on her farm. She wanted to hate the creature growing inside her belly, but she could not.

  The months passed and she gave birth to a boy, though she had no way of knowing which one of the three blackguards the father was. She had been unassisted in her labour, and she had suffered greatly as she strained and pushed it into this grim world as the silver snow floated outside Edmonds Cottage. The baby wailed mightily — its powerful little lungs screaming out as if in anger over its mother’s mistreatment. Lamentably, the child soon sickened and died only a fortnight after its birth, and the villagers said it was the best thing that could have happened. And Susanna wept, for though the babe had reminded her of those terrible hours in the midst of Farmer Smith’s barley field, he was the only creature that was hers in the world, and hers alone. She would have loved him, and she had loved him already.

  The pudgy pig-faced vicar shook his head and denied her the right to bury her bastard child in consecrated ground. From the churchyard, she took her misbegotten dead child and ran into the forbidden Sanguinem Wood. She ran and ran through the icy gloom, and the cold from the snowy ground seeped into her feet from the poorly shod shoes she wore. She did not know where she was running to when she came upon a clearing. There was a large formation of rocks at the base of a hill in these woods that were strange, which she called thereafter the Black Stones. They were six she could count of tall, black stones, with surface grooves and indentations that — from a distance — resembled faces. Susanna thought it unlikely that they had been naturally formed in such a manner. In fact, they had been placed there by a long-forgotten people, and used in their pagan rituals before the time of the Romans.

  The large black stones fell onto each other in such a way as to leave a cave-like shelter below, and it was here that Susanna decided to bury him herself. Inside the great space within, she knelt down upon the soft ground and prayed to the God that never seemed to answer her prayers.

  “Take my son, oh Lord, and do not let him burn in Hell for my sins.”

  With that, she placed her child by her side and, with both hands, began digging the black soil by the cave wall. Once the hole was large enough, she kissed the child’s forehead and placed him within. She slowly pushed the soil upon him, and she cried as she did this. She fell asleep that night by the little mound of earth that she had filled, the cold of the wintry wind swirling around outside the cave.

  ***

  There was no shoulder to cry on, no human warmth to cling to. She was, from the moment she was found with child, considered a social pariah, and an outcast. The already stiflingly oppressive small world that was Coffin’s Bishop was slowly suffocating her, she felt. She learned to endure being spat on; and having some of the villagers call her a harlot. They all turned their faces away from her; shunned her, as if she were some evil creature — for that is precisely what people thought she was. She was friendless in the world, and she longed to escape, to flee, but she could not for she was still bound by her devotion to her brother. Who would feed him? Who would clean his body? Belinda adamantly refused to tend to him. She could not bear the thought of leaving him alone, uncared for, with that harpy.

  Knowing that Belinda harboured such resentment about her living in their home, Susanna feared that one day she would end up on the streets, having to do precisely what the villagers already thought she did: prostitute herself. Her only hope, she thought, would be if God were merciful enough to strike her down dead before she would ever be reduced to such a state. Or, better yet, let Samuel outlive his wretched wife.

  Chapter 10:

  The Devil’s Council

  Griselda sat uncomfortably before the twenty members of The Council, who sat now in a large, u-shaped wooden table around her. They were comprised of all the major vampire covens throughout the world. Word had spread quickly about Henry’s transformation, though she had endeavoured to make it a secret. She had been summoned to show herself to the Council, and had travelled far to do so.

  As soon as she left Henry in Sanguinem Castle, the anxiety had set in; only to increase the closer she got to her destination. From London, she made arrangements with Travers, and crossed the Channel into France. She never much liked France, for all Frenchmen reminded her of Adolphe, of the past; and so she always hired the fastest coach possible, which took several days to get to Piedmont. From thence, into her homeland of Italy, where she had boarded a ship across the Adriatic, which passed the Slavic lands and down into Istanbul.

  The vampire capital had originally been situated in Mesopotamia, the Cradle of Civilisation, within sight of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon; but once Babylon lost its prosperity, they chose to move to the city they first called Byzantium, and then Constantinople. Griselda’s palms were beading with tiny droplets of blood, for she was anxious. A previous transgression meant that she was required to ask permission to beget a new vampire before attempting a Begetting. She had failed to do so, and she knew that the penalties for this could be severe. She looked around her, taking in the Byzantine structure that the vampires took possession off following a convenient period during the tumultuous Islamic conquest, which turned the formerly Catholic country into an Islamic one. The new rulers were too busy with placing their religious stamp throughout the city, especially the great Hagia Sophia cathedral, to notice that vampires had taken possession of an abandoned building in the centre of the city. It was a technique notoriously — and successfully — employed by vampires: they conquered by stealth when men were at war.

  Griselda had been surprised to discover that two of the vampiresses that the Devil had said disappointed him were sitting on either side of the main judge, the formidable Vlad, once a mighty prince of Transylvania. They used to call him Vlad the Impaler, some called him Dracula. He was, by far, the most ruthless yet sophisticated of the vampire Council, and though he was younger than Griselda, he had advanced rapidly. To his left side sat Lamia, slim and serpentine with her blue, scaly skin. Lilith, once chosen as Adam’s first mate, sat to Vlad’s right; her flaming hair hanging loose in waves, covering her nakedness. She regarded Griselda with mistrust, perhaps because she could see much in the Renaissance beauty that reminded her so of her younger self. She had many memories of a time when the world was still new. By the fact she was the oldest vampire, Lilith, by rights, should have been the main judge, but her bouts of insanity drove Satan to placing her second to Vlad, who was not afflicted as she.

  Vlad spoke first. “Griselda Francesca, Contessa di Cuorenero, you have been summoned hither because it was made known to this Council that you have Begat a new vampire without our prior authorisation. How do you plead?”

  “Well, guilty. But there wasn’t time for any of that, for he was dying. Smallpox, you understand, can kill quite quickly.” Everyone knew this, but Griselda felt decidedly cornered, and she almost did not know what to say.

  “Do you promise to not allow any harm come this new vampire that you’ve created?” asked the entrancing, olive-skinned Egyptian vampiress, Nefirtari.

  “So long as he stays loyal to me and loves me,” she replied, a bit too honest for her own good.

  “You forget that vampires are free and not beholden to their Begetters, Contessa,” Nefirtari replied.

  Griselda bristled at this. “I sought a mate. That is well within our laws.”

  “So you obtained his approval before the Begetting took place, I take it?” asked Clytaemnestr
a, an ancient Greek vampiress.

  She remembered the lust in his eyes when he was dying of smallpox. That was sufficient approval, in her mind. That he had not explicitly asked for the gift was none of their business. She did not want to incur even more of the Council’s displeasure.

  “Yes, he approved,” she lied. “He wanted me.” Again, in Griselda’s mind, there were no reasons why Henry would not wish to be her mate for eternity. She was convinced that she had everything a man such as he could wish for.

  “And where is your new mate?” asked Lamia, stroking her serpent tail.

  “I left him in Sanguinem Castle.”

  “In that crumbling dump! I pity the poor young vampire,” cried Cain, another ancient vampire. Griselda shot him a smoky look. The angular vampire nevertheless continued, “You left him, a new vampire, alone in that hovel. Why, I would imprison you simply for that. Bad taste is one thing, but neglect —”

  “That’s enough, Cain,” shouted Clytaemnestra. “It seems clear to me that although Griselda has broken several of our laws, she is here solely for the one charge: Begetting another without this Council’s prior consent. No other vampire is asked to do this but her, for her past crime.”

  Griselda grimaced at this, for it was clear they were not going to understand her reasoning.

  “Contessa di Cuorenero,” said Vlad, “You do understand that by coming here without your new mate we cannot possibly make a judgement in your favour. The law states that the Begotten One must be present in order for us to verify the veracity of your statements.” Vlad was a firm adherent to the dark law.

  Griselda’s eyes hopped from one vampire face to the next. “I could not bring him hither, for he is not adapting well to his new circumstances at present. He needs time to adjust.”

  “And why is that?” asked Lamia, her striking blue face full of question. A true mate for a vampire would have had everything explained to them before the Begetting, making certain that they would follow the rules of the Darkness.

  “I may have misjudged him,” Griselda replied. “He is capable of great atrocities and has already committed a few. I have witnessed the power of darkness in him; but he stubbornly clings to his human conscience. He feels… guilt. It is rather vexatious, I will admit that much.”

  They all looked horrified at this, looking at her with great disapproval.

  “Then there is danger that Henry Stuart will betray our Master and serve the Other!” said Lilith, her ire increasing as she thought of this.

  Griselda shook her head, and gesturing with her hands in an attempt to calm the angry councillors. “Nay, nay, I doubt this highly. He merely needs time to grow to love the power of darkness.”

  “Time? Grow to love it? I have heard enough of your words! You are completely incompetent and a total disgrace to our kind!” bellowed Vlad. “If he has not allowed evil to take his heart, then you have failed. You have also failed to seek permission before this Begetting, which by what I’ve heard tonight is one of the biggest foul-ups you’ve ever committed, Griselda di Cuorenero. And, of course, we all still remember what you did to Adolphe de La Fontaine.”

  Adolphe.

  The mere mention of his name brought back unimaginable pain. “Shall I be forever reminded of that one small mistake?” she asked, wincing. “It was eighty-nine years ago!” she protested.

  “A mere blink of an eye for us. The destruction of our own kind is reprehensible. Only those that serve the Other are to be destroyed. This you know!”

  “But he betrayed me!” she screeched, her voice reverberating against the stones of the great domed room in which they sat. Eighty-nine years had indeed passed, and yet she was as wounded and angry as she had been on that terrible day. Even if Adolphe had betrayed her, the law was the law — and her crime would forever stain her reputation.

  Several minutes of silence passed. Cain began strumming his ancient fingers across the table before him as he ruminated. “You have left a newly Begotten vampire, alone, without guidance, without anyone to steer him to the sinister path. By your thoughtlessness, you may have inadvertently pushed him into the Light!”

  This was one of the worst crimes a vampire could commit, for their kind were only to seek the Darkness, the Light belonging to the Other. The Light meant that a vampire refused to give into murderous frenzy, but sought to use their skills and powers for the good of mankind. This was in complete opposition to Satan’s will. A newly-Begotten vampire who had a conscience could easily be turned to the Light.

  Vlad looked at the other judges and then turned his gaze towards Griselda. “Contessa, in view of the numerous infractions you have committed, I recommend sentencing you to seven years in Purgatory.”

  She rose to her feet at once. “Seven years! This is an outrage! The Prince of Darkness will never allow this!”

  Vlad shot her a bored look, before saying, “All in agreement say aye.”

  “Aye!” was the unanimous reply of all twenty judges.

  Griselda hissed, “The Master will be angry at this. You are risking his displeasure!”

  “Ha!” ejaculated Vlad. “Our Master was the one who told us about what you had done. It is you who have displeased him, we are merely carrying out his wishes. The sentence has been given, you have no way out of this, Contessa.”

  “Let me send word to my Henry,” she pleaded, her voice less abrasive now than it had been. “Let me tell him what fate has befallen me!”

  “You are denied that privilege. Guards! Take this vampiress away!”

  Griselda snarled as the Council guards came in, these were lesser vampires, and they shackled her wrists together in silver-coated chains which burned her flesh and led her away, screaming.

  Down and down was she led into the depths of Purgatory, where the stench of sulphur and smoke pervaded the air. And there, amidst the wailing and screeching the souls begging for salvation, her fury knew no bounds.

  Griselda’s sentence had only just begun…

  ***

  Two months had passed since Griselda had left, and whilst Henry lived with great uncertainty about when she would reappear, he had to do something good with his time. He spent a good part of the rest of 1661 and most of 1662 travelling to and from Newmarket, but he soon tired of that scene and thought of returning to Sanguinem Castle. That great ruin had potential, he thought, and he soon set about restoring it. Griselda had left several coffers full of money for his use, and he used this to fund his work on the castle.

  The months passed rapidly as he made several improvements and he set up his bedchamber in a room overlooking the castle ward. It was located in a very dark and damp portion of the castle, but this did not trouble him. In this stone room, he placed two of the large tapestries he had found in other parts of the castle. He had a desk where he could write and read, and he placed thick curtains around his dark wooden framed bed. It was altogether a comfortable room for a vampire.

  But what Henry enjoyed in material comforts, he lacked in company. His loneliness consumed him, and his only interaction with humans was during hunting and feeding. He would return to the castle and moan with his great sorrow. His pained cries echoed throughout the halls, and could even be heard faintly in the village of Coffin’s Bishop. The castle had always been thought of as being haunted, and now, villagers were certain of it. Susanna heard the lamentable cries — which sounded so much like her own, that she felt a strange bond with the sad being, whatever that being might be.

  One day, Henry could endure his isolation no more, and journeyed to Northampton to find servants for his castle. He promised himself he would not regard them as food, and he was happy to find that he could keep this promise. He hired an older woman as the housekeeper and a young man to look after the two horses he had purchased. But still his heart ached, for though he dared not admit it to himself: he wanted a woman. He wanted to feel like a man again.

  Chapter 11:

  A Mutated Plague

  Unlike the vast majority of humans at t
his time, vampires were untroubled by lice, or fleas, or any other type of parasitic insect, of which there were many. Vampires were, by their very nature, parasites; and as such required sustenance from a living host. Humans, as well as the rats and mice and animals with which they so often lived, were, on the other hand, highly attractive hosts for such parasites. The fleas soon became more than a mere daily annoyance — they became the carriers of a foul disease. From the Black Sea came a new wave of plague, which soon spread like a dark cloud over the country. England had suffered from plague before, but this time was different, so much so that it was called the Great Plague of 1665.

  The early signs of the bubonic plague were not so very alarming at first, for it began with a fever. Fevers were common enough, but this would then go hand-in-hand with other foul symptoms. Then the lymph nodes would swell up and a rash would spread all over the body. It usually took a few days of agony for the plague to kill its sufferer. The slums of St. Giles-in-the-Fields were one of the first impacted by the contagion. So many people lived in incommodious and impoverished circumstances — bunched up together like worms in a gut. The scale of the disease was staggering, with thousands of infections and numerous daily deaths.

  People did what they could to save themselves, and throughout the infected areas there were fires burning away — as smells were thought to thwart the further spread of the disease. Quarantines were put into effect, and merchant ships and any houses that held plague victims were closed off for 40 days. Public enjoyments such as feasting, bear-baitings, plays were prohibited, for the pestilence could spread even more in such crowded events.