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The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood - Volume 2 Page 40
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Page 40
The parish priest arrived soon after. Pelou could see he was furious.
“What are you doing in my church? Look at the doors!”
Pelou did not understand the language he spoke. He said to the priest in Latin, “Speak in Latin so I can understand you.”
“How dare you violate my church!” he shouted.
“We needed shelter.”
“Then go elsewhere.”
Pelou gave him a steely look that chilled him. “We are emissaries of the Pope. It is our right to be here.”
“What nonsense is that!”
Pelou showed him a letter with the Pope’s seal. The priest took it from him to read. “Very well,” he said, his tone still cool. “But why break down my doors?”
“We did not have time to knock.”
The group made steady progress over the next four weeks. Pelou bought another eight horses so he could change the teams every day. They passed through Hungary and into Croatia. From there they moved east into Austria.
On each night they found a church to stay in. For that purpose they did not cover as much ground every day as Pelou had hoped. The safety of the men meant more to him than distance. But the days grew ever shorter. August had come and gone. He knew the vampires would attack again soon.
The men talked about it every night. Pelou was glad of that. It kept them alert and alive to the threat against them. They formed two groups now for the watch, even in the churches. Pelou advised they were safer inside. But it did not make them exempt from danger. With each day that passed though he saw this taking its toll. The men looked really jaded. He felt the vampires would know this. But they would not strike until their weariness was at its highest level. He told the men to keep this in mind. This was not an enemy they could take lightly. For they would be back.
They worried about the next leg of the journey. It took them through the mountain passes between Austria and the Kingdom of Venice. They would see few, if any, churches along this route. Pelou gave them the choice to go south and find a ship. They declined this option. It was too much of a risk to transport the caskets by sea.
The next two nights they spent out in the open. It meant they enjoyed very little sleep. Pelou slept the least of any of them. The vial had shown no sign of activity. But that did not ease his tension. The vampires could come at any moment.
They had reached a high point now in the mountains and the going was slow. Pelou looked up ahead. They would have to go above the snow line. That was not a good prospect. It would slow them even more. Still, one more day and they would be through it.
At dawn they started out. They reached the summit on the pass after a real struggle with the elements. Icy winds and freezing rain made their progress slow. A broken wheel in the early afternoon only added to their woes. Pelou eyed the slopes above while his men worked to change it.
“Come on,” he urged them. “The light is against us.”
It did not help their spirit. Each man was wet and frozen to the bone. Some could hardly feel any life in their limbs.
“You heard him,” one of the others said. “This is no time to feel sorry for ourselves. We have a job to do. The Holy Father wills it.”
Pelou was glad of his intervention. He did not need it, but it helped anyway. Their eyes met for a moment. Pelou nodded his thanks.
The pass sloped down to a cliff road. The wet icy surface proved a real hazard. They had to slow right down. Pelou looked up to the heavens for help. All he saw was an ever-darkening sky.
Heavy clouds rolled in above them. With them they brought more freezing rain. Pelou sent four riders to the front holding torches. They could not stop now. His only choice was to press on. The six riders at the rear also held torches. Two men sat atop the carriage with him. He rested on his knees behind them with his crossbow in hand. Another six he kept close by. Each was loaded after he had dipped the bolts in holy water. Come and face me if you dare.
“Keep your eyes open!” he shouted to the others. Even though he gave the order at the top of his voice they barely heard him. The wind howled all around them and was like a throng in their ears. With the driving rain it prompted them to keep their heads low. The torches fought to remain alight, but they did. “This is the perfect time for them to attack us!”
The men already knew it. As they inched their way along the cliff road they thought of nothing but that. Their bodies ached from the months of travelling. Every one of them wished it could come to an end. The cold ate into their hands and feet. It made them thoroughly miserable. Yet the fear of attack drove them on. They had seen one of the monsters with their own eyes. None of them would relax. To do so could mean death.
The rain eased off. Even the wind died down a touch. The men were glad of that if nothing else. It was a brief respite on their arduous journey along the cliff edge. They remained cold and wet, but at least the conditions had improved.
The vial began to glow. Although tucked away inside Pelou’s shirt the men at the rear all saw it. Their hearts raced at once. It could only mean the vampires were close by. Pelou waited with his crossbow poised. The wet and the cold did not bother him as much as it did the others. He wanted another chance to kill one or all of the monsters that wanted to stop him.
His eyes scrutinised the black sky. In that moment the moon emerged from behind the clouds. His heart leapt when he saw Anya in the air right behind the last two riders.
She grinned as he took aim at her. He felt that she was goading him. Still, he did not let it affect his focus. Both riders cried out when she lifted them off their horses, one in each hand. Pelou probed for a clear shot. He followed her with his eyes as she moved higher into the air.
The two men cried out again in fear. The precipice loomed close by. Past that they saw only oblivion. Anya knew their thoughts and fears. She looked Pelou straight in the eye, as she tossed both of them over the edge.
Horror filled him inside. He watched as both men disappeared from view. Their cries echoed around the mountains, as they descended to the valley below. We live and die as one he thought. Anya seized her chance. Pelou had taken his eyes from her. She flew straight at him. Once he was out of the way the rest would be easy.
But he was ready for her. Using guile she did not expect he turned and fired the crossbow her way. The bolt hit her full in the stomach. She screamed so loud it deafened him and the others. It ripped clean through her body and exited out the other side. The holy water on the tip burned a hole in her belly three inches wide.
Pelou picked up another crossbow. The carriage sped along as fast as the team would pull it. It hit a pothole and knocked Pelou forward. He dropped the crossbow and rolled to the very edge of the carriage. Only then did he realise the road had narrowed. He looked right over the cliff edge. It looked like a dark abyss.
Then the most amazing sight caught his eye. The two men he had lost to this abyss appeared again. Someone else had a hold of them. He saw another like the ones that wanted to kill him. Except this one had saved his two men. Pelou watched him drop back a little and seat the two men on their horses once more.
A sword crashed down into the roof of the carriage just in front of his face. He pulled back and drew his own. The one he had shot a month ago set down right before him.
Before Pelou could react Varkal struck him in the face. He fell down on his back, unable to stop his foe from retrieving his sword. Varkal brought it down on him. Pelou managed to bring his own across in time to block.
Varkal pressed down. Pelou struggled with all his might to resist the blade pushing into his face. It grew nearer and nearer. This beast was far too strong for him. In desperation he lashed out with his boot. It caught Varkal full in the shin. He gasped with pain and fell back. Pelou rose at once. He followed the strike with an elbow to the nose that knocked Varkal down.
Pelou moved onto the front foot. He launched a blistering attack on his opposite. Three times he brought his sword down. On each occasion Varkal fended him off. The last block
pushed Pelou back on his feet. Varkal used the respite to rise up and stand face to face with the knight once again.
Varkal hated him. Pelou had hurt his woman and resisted him so far. Mortals did not possess this kind of ability. Except for this one. He stopped for a moment. Radu was behind him. He turned just as his uncle lashed out with his fist. The blow knocked Varkal back towards Pelou. Up ahead, Radu saw Mihnea descend on the team of horses. He flew past Pelou and went to tackle him.
Varkal could do nothing to stop his momentum. He staggered back and fell straight onto Pelou’s sword. A terrible pain coursed through him. He gasped as Pelou pushed it in deeper. Taking a full breath he moved forward. It left a trail of blood the length of Pelou’s weapon from where it protruded from Varkal’s back. Before he pulled away he thrust his own sword back into his rival. The blade found its mark and cut deep into Pelou’s side.
Pelou groaned hard in pain. He looked down to see the sword sticking into him. It passed just under his ribs and out through his back. Varkal felt Pelou’s knees sag behind him. He heard his rival groan again as he pulled the sword away sharply, leaving Pelou to drop to his knees.
The knight lost his grip on his own weapon. It allowed Varkal to step away and remove it from his body. He threw it down and turned to face Pelou again. Pelou looked up at him. He rested on his knees and with one hand on the roof of the carriage. Varkal bared his fangs and hissed. He sensed the time was right to move in for the kill.
Pelou waited for him to come. Varkal raised his sword above his head. In that same moment Pelou surged forward. He brought out the crucifix from under his belt. The clouds moved again. As he clutched the metal cross in his hand the moon shone down brightly.
It sparkled and glowed in the light. Varkal put his hands up over his eyes to shield them. In doing so he lost the grip of his sword. Pelou did not waste any time. He pushed into him and pressed it into his face. Varkal screamed out loud. Pelou heard a loud hiss as it burned through his skin.
Varkal recoiled away from him and in a flash he was gone. All that remained was the stench of his burning flesh. It hung in the air just above Pelou. He dropped down again onto his knees. The wound in his side was as bad as any he had suffered before. He touched his hand against it and gasped. Looking down, he saw the blood that coated his fingers.
He grabbed one of the crossbows. Then he turned his attention on Radu and Mihnea. Mihnea had attempted to grab the reins of the team and steer them over the cliff edge. Radu reached him just in time. When Mihnea saw him he forgot all else. He saw the moment he had been waiting for.
The two clashed. All of Mihnea’s years of pent up hate rose to the surface. Radu dealt him two solid blows. It lifted Mihnea away from the team. He crashed into the cliff wall and skidded along it. Radu pursued him with his sword drawn. Mihnea drew his own to meet him. They began a duel in mid air, although still moving in tandem with the carriage.
Pelou watched them in awe. Who was this saviour of theirs? He looked to be the same as the one he was fighting. Yet he was not. He was on their side.
The carriage passed through a gap in the mountains. At last they had passed the crevice. From there the road dipped down for a couple of miles.
“Slow the team,” Pelou said to his men. “The worst of the danger is over.”
In time the road levelled off. It passed through a wide open plain. Under the light of the moon Pelou could see the large expanse to either side. They had entered the Kingdom of Venice at last.
Radu and Mihnea continued to do battle. In almost an hour neither had gained much of an advantage. Mihnea was very good, but he could not better his uncle.
Pelou looked around. There was no sign of a return from the other two. He decided then he had to help his ally. With the crossbow still in hand he took aim at Mihnea. However, the surface of the road was not good. He struggled to keep his arm steady. Still, he pointed it at Mihnea and waited for the right moment.
With a slight touch from his index finger he fired the crossbow. The bolt ripped into Mihnea’s face. It caught him side on in the cheek. It grated against both rows of his teeth before exiting through the other side of his mouth. His body dropped like a stone. He fell right in the path of the oncoming team. The first two horses smashed into him.
Pelou heard them whinny as they propelled Mihnea forward. The team then trampled over him, before leaving him in a heap on the ground. Pelou looked behind to see him lying there. He kept his eyes trained on him until they were out of sight. The last image he saw was of Mihnea slowly picking himself up.
Radu joined him on the top of the carriage. “You are hurt?” he said.
Pelou looked to him. He touched at his side again. “Yes.”
“You will have to keep your guard up. This is not over. They will return.”
Those were words Pelou did not want to hear. “I thought as much.”
“You are good with a sword.”
“As are you. I have rarely seen such skill.”
Radu offered him a faint smile. “I can see why they picked you.”
Pelou studied his face. Radu trained his eyes on the road behind, but knew that his ally was scrutinising him. Even the knight looked at him with a degree of awe. Everyone did when they saw his face. His was truly beautiful.
“Who are you?” Pelou asked, though it was not in his nature to do such a thing.
Radu looked at him. “Your friend.”
Pelou nodded. “That much is true. But you are one of them?” he asked.
“I am like them. But I am not one of them. I am on your side.”
“Thank you for saving my men.”
“It is why I am here. To watch over you all.”
Radu turned his head sharply to the road behind again.
“What is it?”
“They are coming.”
“How? They are all badly hurt.”
“Believe me. They are on their way. And they are not best pleased.”
Pelou turned to his men. “Everyone stay together! They are coming again! Throw away your torches and draw your weapons! We have enough light from the moon.”
“It is best that we stop,” Radu said.
Pelou nodded. “Halt!” he shouted.
Radu held his sword in hand. “They are all coming. Dracula too.”
The team drew to a halt. The others crowded around the carriage in a circle with their weapons in hand.
“The moment you see them,” Pelou said, “fire your crossbows.”
“You will need more than crossbows,” Radu said calmly.
Then they saw them. Five small shadows against the moon. Dracula took the lead. Ilona kept pace with him just to his left. His sons and Anya lagged a little behind them, their injuries slowing them down. But it did not deter them. They eyed the group below with real hate. It, coupled with their anger, was so strong that it distorted their features.
Their approach was swift. With every moment the figures grew larger. The men saw them coming. Every one of them could feel a cold sweat trickling down the backs of their necks. This was the moment. It was time to do or die.
Pelou welcomed the vampires now. Radu gave him renewed hope that they would triumph. He held the vial in his hand. It shone as bright a blue as he had seen. He looked at his enemies and then held the vial to his lips. Kissing it firmly, he whispered, “Give me your strength, Andrei.”
With that he threw the vial down hard into the earth. The glass shattered into a million pieces, the mixture of holy water and Andrei’s blood covering the ground.
It began to rumble beneath them. The carriage shook so violently that Pelou had to hold onto Radu for support. The horses cried out and jostled where they stood. Their riders had to fight hard to keep them under control.
A strong wind began to blow outwards from the carriage. It hit the vampires full on. Yet they battled through it. Their eyes honed in on the small figures of Pelou and Radu below. More than ever they wanted to rip the bodies of these two to pieces. When they had do
ne this they could destroy the contents of the six caskets.
Then it came. An almighty pulse of blue light shot out from where the vial had fallen. It emanated outwards at a speed faster than sound. The ground collapsed in its wake. It flattened any trees that stood in its path. Even the rocks and boulders it crushed to dust.
The vampires cried out as one when they saw it. They felt its might even before it reached them. The pulse hit them with a power as great as any in the known universe. It threw them back at a speed ten times faster than any of them had ever managed in flight. By the time the pulse had vanished again, so had they.
All fell silent. The men sat astride their horses in a state of shock. Pelou stood there and cast his eye over the desolation for miles around. He turned to his men. “Come on. It is time to go home.”
It took the group another six days to reach Rome. Each night Radu came back to watch over them. He and the others tried everything to stop Pelou’s bleeding, but nothing worked. With every hour that passed he grew weaker. He hung on until the carriage passed through the gates of the Vatican. As they passed under one of the marble arches he looked up to the sky and thanked God. Then with skin as pale as snow from his blood loss he breathed his last.
The men were distraught when they realised this. They carried his body inside and laid him out on the altar in the Sistine Chapel. The Pope stood over him. Tears streamed down his face. He gently stroked Pelou’s hair and said a prayer over him.
Pelou had brought Andrei’s sons and his twelve men home safely to the Vatican. Only he had failed to make it the whole way. But he had hung on long enough to see them safe.
“Thank you, Jean,” Paul whispered. “Thank you for all you have done. Go and take your place with the angels where you belong.”
He employed a surgeon to cut the breastbones from the bodies of Andrei’s sons. Then he had them laid to rest in the vault. Andrei was the last one. Paul removed the items from Andrei’s crypt before the surgeon set to work.