Count Rothchild

by Michael W. Huard

  “Who would that be?” asked Oliver. “I shall remove his head in honor of my brother.”

  Van Helsing shook his head. “No one really knows. All we do know are names.”

  “Tell me these names,” insisted Tatijana, as did Oliver.

  Antione Van Helsing removed his wide hat and ran a hand through his graying hair. “The original three were Baltos, Marcus, and Ismael. Each was superseded by another that took reign. Marcus passed the torch to Victor, and Ismael to Manfred; Baltos to one Krons, who is now Drakko. I may have the names mixed up. This is all on memory, folks; I’m not positive here.”

  Tatijana listened closely. She still had in one hand an interesting dagger that she had not put away from earlier. Paublo wondered if the demon-headed weapon had special powers. The ugly face had two red stones encrusted in such as its eyes. He would ask her one day; it had to be special if she had drawn it in the earlier fight.

  Van Helsing suggested they move further from the area; he would expound on everything else he knew later on.

  Soon they were riding hard again.

  He took them to a hunting lodge lost in the woods after several hours of travel. It was an old family place that had not been used in some time.

  Once inside, he locked the doors and windows extra tight for the night, and soon he spoke more about the Crim.

  In his hand he had a faded brown book. “This will assist us some.” He then proceeded to quietly read certain sections.

  Oliver was saddened and holding his watered eyes, sitting away from the others. Tatijana this time went and gave her friend an embrace.

  Mr. Van Helsing was soon ready to discuss more. “It is known they sought out the three skulls of the first three descendants of their maker. The vampric bones were to be used in ritual to bring back the maker. However, it did not work. In time they came up with another option, a tome, that which, if administered enough blood from the eldest living kind of their kin, would help summon him or her back.”

  The room was darkening and he searched for, found and lit candles all about. The faces of those inside seemed interested, if not concerned at their current circumstance.

  Van Helsing added, “The problem we now are facing is that once you become the hunter and fail, you become the hunted. We would be best served if we parted ways now. It is safer to all here.”

  Paublo desired more answers and if Tatijana truly wanted to deal with her so-called freak of a father, he knew one person now that could help them locate his home. He held that information back for the time being. He wished to keep his mother Gaylen out of it.

  Van Helsing did explain more about the Tome of Blood before everyone took to sleep, having a guard change every few hours.

  Tatijana kept mulling such information in her mind, unable to sleep herself. It was valuable knowledge, yet confusing.

  The book, as he went over before, was written ages ago by the evil Magi Elphiftor, a necromancer who lived far to the south in the great desert. It had been lost in the mighty sandstorms throughout history.

  She brushed her long black hair aside and inhaled a drawn-out breath, tossing and turning in thought. It was then a shadow walked by one of the lodge’s windows. It made her reach for her scimitar.

  “I think it was just the flickering candlelight,” spoke Oliver, still awake himself, sitting in the corner of the cabin. “There’s a draft over there.”

  She looked to her trusty servant and friend of over two years. “I’m sorry about your brother. He was a loyal and good man.”

  Oliver tried to smile at her. “He liked you, you know. Neither he nor I have ever been afraid of you. We honor the aspect of serving such a magnificent huntress and know behind your scowls you respect us as well.”

  She nodded as to his words. “He will be missed and, of course, you both are well thought of and appreciated by my husband and I. Let’s try and get a little sleep now.”

  Neither slept much, as more shadows danced about the room.

  In the morning, Antione Van Helsing spoke a bit more.

  “I am afraid I do not know all the details of such a tome. I’ve been running it in my head all night. It is said to be written in a magical scripture, one that through centuries no one was able to decipher even if they possessed such an artifact. We do know that it is described as a summoning book, which makes sense.

  “The Tome of Blood, which many now refer to as Elphiftor himself in name, as to its creator, has also been said to uncover the means to make a black knife; one which must taste the blood, that which I would imagine would be of the three oldest royal vampires in existence mentioned before.”

  This was amazing to Tatijana. Van Helsing was akin to a walking scripture of the most important information she sought. It was a good idea to have him along and to meet this clever man. The book, the knife, the ancient blood, all was probably not as told, thus a mystery it was, but the details were a start and quite helpful.

  More talk ensued, but soon enough all were weary of such discussion. It led nowhere.

  Before, she was bent on killing Rothchild, but now she had second thoughts. He had to be her father, unless somehow both Ivan and he were. She was part vampire and this man was responsible either way.

  She did not know where to go from here. They had to return to Traybore Island. She was carrying a child and her husband would relish in such news. She was unsure of everything. A newborn would throw her plans into disarray.

  Before they left the secluded cabin, Paublo had something to say. It was time to reveal all. He found himself pacing back and forth; he was already sweating and knew not what to expect regarding reactions from those present.

  “I must admit I have not been completely honest with you. Therefore let me say this now before we go our own ways soon enough. My mother, Galen Van Warden Hartsell, knows quite well of this Count Rothchild’s locale. I think I have the means for us to find out where he dwells.” He took a breath and explained, “Whether you wish to banish this man or speak with him, meeting with my mother could lead us on such a path. She could help us.”

  After more talking, he told them he at first preferred to not mention his mother or get her involved whatsoever. It was thus decided Paublo would travel to the capital city of Englewood to see Gaylen next.

  Before they parted ways with Van Helsing, he asked a few questions for his own knowledge and entertained last concerns as well.

  “I have concluded, my new friends, that somewhere along the Kingdom of Questor, out in the King’s Sea, there are many islands, one which appears to be perhaps a location for this Count Rothchild. I have no idea which one, and it remains a guess that he at all is out there somewhere.

  “It is said that some of the islands contain savage women, barbaric men, and even the highly sought-after elven nation. Others are hidden in fog or magic as well. Perhaps this is where great adventure still awaits you as to whatever you decide to do.”

  He then packed his own gear, preparing to leave the cabin.

  “I have to ask you, Tatijana, that you tell us more about yourself before I go. It is blatantly obvious that you are not fully human; you hide from the sun, you’re a mysterious woman with your cowl covering your face constantly, and there is your obvious preference for the night.”

  He then looked at the others, pausing at each.

  “There is no doubt you have been touched by he you seek, be it now in a very personal way. Now we hear that perhaps this count is your father. What say you, woman; who are you? All here deserve a better explanation.”

  The dark-haired woman began readying her own baggage, giving no answer, until stating, “I owe none of you anything.” Moments later she added, “I prefer to remain mysterious, if you don’t mind.”

  Pablo then blurted, “We can’t keep secrets. I’ve told you all I know and I’m going to give you even more; please, for the love of God, tell us more about yourself.”

  She paused in her packing. “It is true I am not fully human. I was born partially of
a vampric nature. You already have assumed this hunt is my life goal, and this is correct. I live to destroy those that create such a disease as my own.” She gave the group a wicked smile. “So, no, I am not a vampire. I have suffered trauma with the loss of my mother and the confusing aspects of who my father truly is and why my mother was killed. It haunts me. I have regrouped, remarried, and now have a child of my own on the way. You need not know more.”

  She then looked to Antione. “What about you, Mr. Van Helsing? Where shall you go now, a member of a notorious family hunting vampires, ghosts, werewolves, and fiends?”

  Van Helsing placed a hand over his face, squeezing his temples to ease his mindset. He lowered such and nodded. “I have learned but one thing from my ancestors. It is that when you become a hunter, you must finish the job; if you do not, you become the hunted.”

  Paublo announced, “You already told us this.”

  Van Helsing then pointed to each person individually to give better warning as to his prior statement. “I am now known by this Crim and you as well, and it is not safe for me to stay at my normal residence or even here. I must myself seek to regroup, to relocate, and remain hidden for the time being.”

  “Perhaps you are not as brave as we thought you were,” announced Tatijana Von Drakenfell.

  Van Helsing winked at her. “I am as brave as I have to be; I am simply not stupid.”

  That morning Van Helsing went on his way and the others also. The entire adventure had taken a sudden turn into a different direction.

  From the Journal of Count Drakko Rothchild

  Now I’m in a whirlwind of never-ending thoughts. There are black clouds hanging over me wherever I roam. I let her go, be it too much innocence. Yet even now I see her flowing blonde hair and the smell of her perfume lingers in the castle. I often go to the tub which she soaked naked in. I see her beauty even still right there plain as day.

  I’ve done all I could to avoid Claudiva as well. I want to be good. Since seeing my daughter and grandchild to be, I must find the regal in my soul, I must refrain myself from pain and destruction. Lilyana was my last chance; I know that. She put my mind at ease. Or was it just lust? And now a daughter; is this woman mine to watch over?

  I’m rambling. I’m still lonely, and misery makes me a fiend. If I could be happy again, I swear I would find virtue somewhere deep inside my tortured soul; I could be good again. Why do I lie to myself? I am crazy in love with the female specimen. I desire almost all that I see. I act caring and shy away, for the disease that shadows me will kill them. This is what stops me.

  I AM AN IMPOSTER.

  I don’t know what to do with eternity; I am bored and think only of sex. I should find a new locale; I should leave this keep and go far away. But do I? I’m just lonely. This is the price I pay; my brother Dracula’s curse has now consumed me.

  First there was Estelle, she was my love, and my righteous self was at its highest point with her. I could have changed the world to good. How could I be so stupid, alcohol ruins people; does my own brand destroy lives? But then the devil sends me Gaylen; she looks like Estelle. He tempts me with lust and carves my heart constantly with her image.

  Oh, Gaylen, are you the reincarnation of my first love, am I MISSING A CHANCE TO BE HAPPY FINALLY?

  I could have been fine with Caroline, her dark hair and complexion opposite of Estelle; she was so fun; so amazingly full of life. She was my playful soul mate, and I KILLED HER.

  Fuck.

  It was my own damn fault as to Claudiva. Now look what I have done. She was too inspired to be a simple star; she wanted the world at her fingertips. I knew it, and I let her seduce my loins. A redhead is always too rambunctious, too wild. I fell into her trap and made of her the vilest of beings.

  Woe to me.

  I was lost enough to seek another and found Lilyana. She, too, was lonely. I could not help myself in going back to the kingdom where I was first a knight of the dragon. I sought out my own father’s coins in the streets as a would-be beggar. I became a Slovak in sheepskin coating to blend in. A simple gaze of my eyes into hers and she was forever mine. I’m so destructive.

  Now Tatijana; she hates me also. She is with child; will my line ever stop?

  My youth is gone. For someone a thousand years old, I, too, am fading slowly unto death. I don’t think I will ever feel love again.

  WAIT; I AM KRONS TEPES, son of the magnificent Vlad Tepes, brother of the most pronounced DRACULA. I need something or someone to awaken me, I cannot stand such torment.

  Will someone please, I beg of you, heed my cry?

  Shall love ever come my way?

  I’ll dance, make merry, and play

  My dreams will all come true

  But only from the beauty that is in you

  PART THREE

  Chapter 16

  Tatijana returned home to her estate, the vineyard known as DeAbleau. It was there she and her husband ran a large winery; little did he or she know that at one time Drakko lived there, centuries before. The wine was called Rothchild before it was ever changed to DeAbleau.

  Her husband and the huntress had much to discuss.

  Meanwhile, Paublo was off to the capital city to speak with his mother. The ranch was to the north, located in the middle of the highlands. Gaylen herself had aged like fine wine. She was overjoyed to see her son.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of such a nice visit?” she asked him. “It has been too long, my handsome boy.”

  They shared a brief recount of matters current and sipped Bones Coffee, the new craze in the realm, while eating fresh strawberry muffins.

  He wasted no time with more pleasantries, though his mother’s beauty and charm always put a smile on his face; they could have talked on anything for hours.

  “Mom, you know that story you wrote long ago? Well,” he paused for a moment, “it’s kind of resurfaced in my life.”

  Gaylen raised an eyebrow at his words. She was suddenly concerned; fearful.

  “What is it, Paublo? Should we wait until your father is home?”

  He shook his head. He then explained everything.

  Gaylen was lost for words. She had thought it was done now. She could not believe what she was hearing.

  When Jonathan Hartsell got home, he, too, was informed of what had occurred. He threw his wine goblet across the room, shattering such into a thousand pieces.

  “You two have lost your minds,” he announced. “To even speak of this man, let alone seek him out, is utterly insane. I forbid you both to ever do so again.” He paced back and forth and then added rather loudly, “And that’s the bottom line - never again.”

  Both Gaylen and Paublo began at the same time to explain more, yet Jonathan would have nothing of the sort.

  “I SAID, NEVER AGAIN!”

  He stormed out, stating he needed a much stronger drink in town.

  A silence filled their family den.

  Both son and mother did not know what to say.

  Paublo could not hold back and finally raised his hands high. “Mother, I am an adventurer; this is my calling. I know Tatijana will keep seeking him out. I have to go with her.”

  Gaylen shook her head. “You heard your father.”

  Her son now paced. “Yes, I heard him loud and clear. Yet it will not deter me. I am a grown man. He’s different from me. And I don’t mean that badly. He’s a good man, a hard worker, a decent father. He has given us a good life, but for me; I am unsettled, I seek more.”

  Gaylen knew well her son was different. “You don’t expect me to come with you, do you? I mean, it would tear your father apart, and I fear it’s not something I want to rekindle in my life.”

  She then thought of her diamond ring; that was the only reward she would want out of such a journey. If only she could retrieve it. She would be mad to go. She would not do it.

  Her son finally stopped walking and randomly cleaning dust off items in the room. “Then tell me, mother, how I can find this man. You s
tate in your story that which I read again recently en route here that he dwells in a most mysterious locale.”

  Gaylen swallowed. “You will never find it without my help.”

  She thought of Count Rothchild. It was almost he she gave into. He was tall, handsome, and so charming. He was wise, powerful and full of stories and experiences. He was also a vile man. Had she gone mad? This man would be so much older now, just as she. It had been over twenty years.

  “I can’t go with you, Paublo, I just cannot.”

  The following morning, one which Jonathon had not returned the night before from, Paublo discussed more with his mother as he prepared to depart.

  He was happy his mother kept such good care and was still performing some locally, and writing as well for the newspaper the High Winds. He embraced her ever so close before going.

  “I love you, mom; thanks for everything. Please be well; you’re a beautiful person inside and out. Keep shining.”

  Gaylen hated to see her charismatic son leave. He had just arrived. She missed him.

  He was soon out the door heading to his horse in the nearby stable. He was heading into great danger, she knew it. What if he died, what if he fell at the hands of Count Rothchild or, worse, the wicked Claudiva and her gruesome minions?

  Then there was her ring to recover!

  A few moments later Paublo rode up to yell goodbye one last time. He, too, knew well that perhaps he might never see his mother again.

  Gaylen then emerged. She had her riding clothes on and a brown cloak about her. “You got room for one more adventurer?” she asked.

  Paublo’s eyes lit up. “Are you sure? What will father say?”

  Gaylen smirked. “I think we ought to get going before he returns.”

  And with that they were off.

  When arriving back on Traybore Isle, Paublo saw Oliver up the long road he and his mother now rode upon. The dark-haired, mustached man gathered some sort of herb along the route. They exchanged greetings and Oliver then went about escorting them to the family estate. The sights about were of the largest vineyard fields and neighboring long buildings. There was nothing much more here besides a small and tall dark gray picketed church at the far end of the seaside cliffs to the east.