Count Rothchild

by Michael W. Huard

  Paublo was worse for the wear; Tatijana used the blue crystals of healing, yet even these were not helping his ghastly chest and heart wound. Gaylen pushed Drakko away; her wounds were minimal and her attention was to be with her son.

  The red-haired woman then grabbed him aside and pleaded with him. “You have no choice now. They will come back with more numbers, and soon they will hunt these people down as well. You must agree to the ritual, it’s your only choice.”

  She was surprised when he simply said, “You’re right. I will go with you willingly, but I ask that you let me spend the night here before we leave.”

  Claudiva arched her back with a long gasp. “I don’t know if we have that much time, Drakko. Why must you wait?”

  He was not taking no for an answer. “One night; leave us be.”

  The giant Sebastian came forth. “She’s right, Drakko, time is crucial.”

  Rothchild then gave the minion a wicked stare down.

  The giant stepped back. “Let it be then one partial night. I think we can hold them off and make such happen. But we must leave before dawn.”

  Mavark then made mention, “There is a place called Vallen Graveyard in the South; it is one of the oldest burial places in the entire known world. It is there that the summoning will take place. They have moved such there, always changing locations to stay ahead of the game. We need to get there fast or this place will soon be flooded with death dealers from all parts of the land.”

  The count wasted no time in taking Gaylen, Tatijana and the badly hurt Paublo into his private study. Claudiva and her minions would keep watch in and around the castle grounds for the time being.

  Mavark was a bit pissed off at such a duty. He asked his master a simple question, “Why do we need to keep lookout? It’s his problem, it’s their problem, and it sucks.”

  Sebastian knew what was coming. He decided to keep his own big lips sealed.

  Mavark went on even more. “Like Richman said, it’s time to let go of the old and get in with the new. We can’t continue to watch over him just because he was your creator.”

  The Diva got in his face. She then slapped him across the face. “Is that how you would treat your creator - me - if I was in the same situation?”

  He lowered his head some and then looked at her apologetically. “I am sorry, master.”

  She studied both her servants. “In all my life, I have known little loyalty; I haven’t given it all that much either, but I haven’t received it a lot. However, with him, let’s just say I owe everything to that man. I will keep him alive if it’s the last thing I do. I want to wait for him, and I hope he does as he said and comes with us. To have Drakko a part of the Crim’s family would vastly please me.”

  Mavark and Sebastian offered her their help as always.

  She then added, “Don’t you boys want to make me happy,” she smiled, “not just in bed, you silly goats, but in my heart? Let’s get him there.”

  The men before her bowed.

  In the study, Tatijana was first to speak. “I need to know if you are truly my father and what happened back on Questor. Did you kill my mother Lilyana? There’s too much conflicting information, my head is hurting. Tell me all, tell me now.”

  Drakko shook his head. “I did not kill your mother. I had a whirlwind of a love affair with her and cared deeply for her well-being. My curse follows me wherever I go, and miraculously she was with child from our union; such is unheard of. At first we were not sure what the child would turn into if it was allowed to be born. The man who raised you, I will not call evil, but it was at Ivan’s hands that the moment your mother gave birth and had turned to be of my kin, he slew her.”

  “How could he have known this on first sight?” Tatijana asked.

  Gaylen listened with all ears. Paublo was hanging on near her, still awake.

  Count Rothchild gave her the answer. “You were born with bloodshot eyes, and your fangs were out. The midwife and Ivan were in dire shock. Now, obviously he claims they had an agreement for such, but I am unaware such was true. You were born as you are; my blood is in you, but not fully. It is the way of miracle conception and birth. I do not know a scientific term for what occurred. But, I am undoubtedly sure your father slew your mother, agreement or not.”

  Tatijana was obviously upset. Tears rolled from her eyes and anger grew in her chest. “I hate you,” she said. “I hate you, I hate you, and I hate you.”

  “I hear that a lot,” replied Drakko.

  His daughter shook her head, not sure about everything. “You saved me more than once, but that doesn’t change how I feel. And now this awakening plan by the Crim organization, it blows my mind; we cannot let that happen. I cannot let it happen.”

  “You have no choice,” Rothchild said, as he walked over and sat near Gaylen. He examined her wounds again, making sure nothing was too serious or still in need of bandages.

  Tatijana was lost in thought.

  The count then reached for and withdrew something from a nearby drawer. He offered it to Paublo. “Take this blood, it will help.”

  Paublo removed the cork topping of such a potion and drank it right off. He seemed to feel better almost right away.

  The count then looked at Gaylen, who was thankful for his help with her son. “I cannot believe I am seeing your face again,” he said to her, touching her hair and moving some from her eyes. “I am glad that your neck wound healed fully.”

  She looked at him for the first time up so close. He had not changed one bit in twenty years.

  “Have I myself changed?” she then asked him. “Am I like the others, mortals who grow old, wither and die?”

  The count shook his head. “You are as beautiful as ever; in fact, even more so. Sometimes I asked myself why I ever let you leave.”

  Gaylen was taken aback by his words. “You didn’t let me go, I escaped.”

  He gave her a slight grin.

  Gaylen sat there looking at him. Then she added, “Maybe it was because you found some compassion in your heart, if you even have a heart.”

  “Touché,” the count said. “Are you still married?”

  “I am,” nodded Gaylen. “In fact, he’s probably on his way for me as we speak.”

  Rothchild smiled, though in his mind he was disappointed. “I cannot blame him; if you were mine; I would do or go anywhere to keep your love.”

  Before they could say too much more, the giant Sebastian walked in looking concerned.

  “Pardon me, Count Rothchild, but they have returned, and are already outside surrounding the keep and their numbers have more than tripled this time.”

  The count noted Claudiva in the backdrop raising her hands as if to say I told you so, and what now? He was frustrated; it had been but a few minutes and he had more to discuss with both his daughter and Gaylen.

  “We only have one choice,” he announced with a sigh. “All of you come with me.”

  He stood and led them to the hall and to a nearby door.

  The group descended a flight of stairs, to the bowels of the lower castle. They took a secret passage, then another, going lower and lower.

  Claudiva made note of such. “What here have you hidden from me?” she asked the count, following his lead.

  “You will soon see,” he said as he took them into the deeper catacombs of his keep.

  They went down a multitude of stairs and twisting turns before they entered a small chamber, upon which on the floor stood a pedestal, and on the pedestal, a design in spiral pattern flickering in a light reddish color.

  “This is a teleportation artifact. It will take you, us, wherever we so choose to go,” Count Rothchild explained.

  “We must choose Vallen Graveyard for the summoning,” called out the Diva.

  The platform was large enough for at least two people to step on. The design was akin to a pentagram, yet it had eight star edges and in the center a dragon-like image.

  “This is nice,” announced Claudiva. She rolled a
finger at Mavark. “You’re first.”

  The trusted minion stepped up upon the sigil and he slowly faded out. She then waved the giant onward and he stepped up onto the glowing pentagram-like design and disappeared.

  “I like this very much, Drakko,” Claudiva again mentioned. “I would hope this is new and was not here back when we frolicked so much together. We could have had fun with this cool toy.”

  Rothchild did not answer her.

  An old man then, in the craziest of circumstances, one dirty and beaten, jumped out from behind the upraised device with a massive wooden stake and mallet in his hands. He screamed out in bloody rage, running at the count as to drive such into the man, he who had tortured him for so long.

  The count, who was more concerned about getting Gaylen up onto the pedestal next, did not even see him coming. She, as he held her, ended up actually blocking him from the old man’s attack. She now was the target. The stake was destined for her heart, if not for the reaction of the already badly wounded Paublo.

  He leaped in front of his mother as the wooden stake drove deeply into him. Directly into his same terrible chest wound.

  Oscar Van Helsing yelled out in agony. He had missed his mark. Before the count could react, Tatijana spun about and sliced the professor’s head fully off. Who this old man was nobody even had time to ask.

  “No, oh, Lord, no,” whispered Gaylen as she dropped down to hold her son.

  Paublo had already suffered severe wounds, and now this. He collapsed.

  “There’s nothing we can do for him. They’re coming down the stairs, I can hear them.” Claudiva then grabbed at Count Rothchild to get him moving, yet he pushed her hand away.

  He touched Gaylen’s shoulder. “She is right, Gaylen; we must go. Bring him with you.”

  He helped lift Paublo up.

  Tatijana helped as well. “We have to go,” she insisted.

  Drakko and Tatijana got Gaylen and Paublo both on the sigil.

  He looked to Gaylen. “Think of your home and it will take you there. I almost forgot,” he added, holding his hand out before her. “I thought you still might want this.” He then opened his hand, offering her a diamond ring, her ring.

  She was surprised. Maybe he did have a heart, after all.

  “I wish it was I that was giving it to you now as to us getting married, but I wish you well and hope your son will be fine,” the man before her stated.

  The Diva behind him was in a rush and not wrong in such assumption. “Enough mushy crap; let her go before we all get pounced upon.”

  The count left both Gaylen and Paublo on the sigil. “Take care, Gaylen Van Warden, she who I thought was to be a man come to visit me so long ago.”

  In seconds they were gone.

  Claudiva saw that he seemed upset. “I like this,” she announced. “We could go anywhere we want, travel the world in an instant. I mean, why hide below ships in coffins when we can skip right to where we desire to be. You should have told me about this sooner,” she added, coming closer to him now.

  She then moved in for a kiss.

  He pushed her aside. “Will you ever just leave me alone? I will go to this graveyard, but after that you will never see me again.”

  Claudiva gestured sharply towards the sigil. “After you … wait take my hand; it will be better this way.”

  Tatijana was now stepping up on the platform. She had decided to go home. It was the right thing to do.

  The count was hesitant to take Claudiva’s hand as he watched his daughter fade away, but he did and it was then that the master of the night, one of the most ancient vampires in the entire realm, he now with his one-time wife and fellow vampire, the very one he had created, teleported to Vallen Graveyard. He wondered if he would ever see his daughter again.

  At his and Claudiva’s desired location, hundreds of their kin had gathered around an ancient mausoleum. The black stone structure with a pointed rooftop and one gigantic gargoyle on its top was mostly weathered and worn, but had stood the test of time.

  Manfred had already begun. He had his blood now upon the dagger dripping onto the front structure of the tomb. Next to him the tall and lean brown-haired vampire, Victor, another ancient undead, followed suit and placed his own wrist out ready to add his blood as well.

  Claudiva appeared with Rothchild and all present turned about to see them coming up the narrow dirt trail. All wondered if he would truly go through with such.

  A silence came over the proceedings. Many watching licked their sharp teeth in anticipation.

  Manfred could not deny the opportunity to voice his thoughts. “Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are graced by the presence of the highest of nobility, for it is Krons, the Knight of the Dragon, the one-time Baron, the ancient ONE; Rothchild, be he here now in our fold.”

  Those all about looked on waiting for what was to come.

  “You have finally come to your senses, and you, Claudiva, have achieved what others have failed to do; in fact, they have not even returned yet,” Manfred chuckled. “You have brought to us the one last piece in the puzzle of humanity; it is now, globally, we will alter life itself. Come forth, Master Rothchild, so that we may add your blood to mine and Victor’s. The three of us shall summon the first of our kin on such a glorious evening.”

  Rothchild’s mind raced at a speed; if he did this, what would happen to Gaylen and Tatijana? They perhaps would become the slaves of his kin and that would be the end of what life once was for them. Now he had second thoughts.

  The moment had arrived; he had to make a decision.

  Those all over watched him; there were many. They came from the far realms of this world; today was their day to rejoice.

  He knew what he had to do.

  He swiftly changed into a large bat, and the onlookers shouted as to what he was doing. Concern filled the area. Some leaped after him, others changed also. The leaders, Manfred and Victor, and many more, watched as Rothchild then flew off at lightning speed.

  He flew at the sun.

  They could not follow.

  Chapter 20

  Gaylen arrived on the front porch of their cattle ranch. She was still cradling her son Paublo in her arms; be it weeping and wailing, she continued to tell him how much she loved him.

  Suddenly his eyes opened. “Mom, I saved you. I could not ask for more,” he moaned with a slight smile. “As an adventurer, I am a hero, right, momma? There be no better treasure one could ever find than to save one’s mom.”

  His eyes again were easing shut. He was not going to last much longer. Gaylen cried even louder now. She tried to gather herself, but it took a while.

  “I should have never went with you; we should have never gone; oh God, my Paublo, my little Paublo.”

  He tried to stay awake. “It’s fine, mom. Will you sing a song about me? Please, sing a song about me, mom,” he weakly kept asking. “Tell them of the great adventurer, he who traveled far and wide, a hero, right, mom, for what bigger hero am I who could be the one to save someone that he loves so much.”

  Gaylen shook as his voice faded away more and more. She tried to keep him conscious, alive, but he was going now, and slowly his eyes began to close.

  Jonathan, upon hearing the sounds of crying, ran out to the porch, yelling as he arrived, “Oh, my Lord, my son, what have you done?”

  He started to wildly slap at Gaylen. She tried to defend by placing her hands up by her face.

  Jonathan finally calmed down, crying now, holding their son together with Gaylen. Her days of adventuring were over. They came with great loss.

  Tatijana took a moment for herself and walked down to the edge of her estate’s cliff side; it was down by the old gothic church where she sat on a rock overlooking the ocean thinking a million and one thoughts.

  She knew that one day she was going to have to kill him, there was no denying that, but she saw goodness within him. It was not enough to override the bloodlust and the destruction he caused. Drakko Del Rothchild, her fa
ther, was still a monster. He was, however, her monster.

  A bit later, after she simply sat in silence looking down at the ocean, her husband Eric approached, calling out, “Are you going to sit there all night or come inside?” He then gave to her a cup of tea.

  She stood up, brushing herself off and looking at him. She sipped the warm tea and smiled.

  He asked, “Are you fine?”

  She nodded that she was.

  “So, what’s next?” he asked, knowing well from the look on her face that she was still lost in thought.

  Tatijana inhaled deeply. “What’s next is that I am going to come inside. I am going to take care of myself and we are going to have a baby.”

  Count DeAbleau embraced her. “I am so glad you’re safe. Come on; let’s go in,” he added, pointing up to their mansion. They then began to walk back. “I guess I should ask you, have you come up with a name yet for our child, boy or girl?”

  His wife smiled. “I have decided on Nafari if he is a boy. If it’s a girl, I will name her Natalya.”

  Count DeAbleau put his arm now around her shoulders. “These are good names. I like them very much.”

  Drakko Del Rothchild made his way in bat form to the secluded island of Teevas. He knew his own domain that of Krons was far too dangerous now to reside in. He would be sought out there with no hope of solitude.

  He went to the old caretaker’s home and beyond down the cliffs onto the sandy beach at the ocean. There was a decent-sized impression in the cliff wall behind him and he decided to sit and place his back into such.

  The sea was alive today; it was speaking his name.

  He leaned forward and rested his head upon the palms of his hands; the sound of the waves continued crashing about and offered him at least some calmness. The world was mostly all water; seventy percent, in fact, and to sit with it today was a good choice. This gave him a sense of belonging. The ocean’s roar felt good.