Vampire of Sardinia
Story by Jeremy Vail
Imagery by Shelly
Reading by Lisa
After several diplomatic failures and military defeats in the 1730s, Austria seemed to be declining, or even on the verge of collapse.
However in 1770, A loose alliance between the French and Austrians is strengthened by the marriage of future King Louis XVI of France and Austrian Archduchess Marie Antoinette.
For the Kingdom of Sardinia, this meant two large empires on either side were officially allied.
In the city of Turin, home to The House of Savoy, it's throne and court to Sardinia was now about to change...
Just after the death of Charles Emmanuel III
When Victor Amadeus III takes to the throne in 1773 he begins working on bureaucratic and military aspects of his reign. He remains suspicious of anything innovative. Yet, he starts to implement several public works as well as paying a great deal of attention to his administration and armed forces. He approves and sets up two new important cultural state institutions on the advice of the bourgeoisie and aristocracy alike. He begins works of improvements in the port of Nice, and has dams in the Arce and the road of the Côte built.At this time he also secretly makes a sizeable military investment...
The mission should have been a simple one. The Austrian scouts were sent by Joseph II, to confirm a breach point in the wall, outside the commons of the city of Turin.
Detlef, Blandinus, and Meinard, all felt the quest as a chance to hunt the Alps for large game. Of course that opportunity would have to wait for the return trip.
For now the mission takes priority. The Archduke of Austria was certain the new crown, King Victor Amadeus III of Sardinia would soon begin the rebuilding of Turin's defenses.
This was almost heartbreaking to Detlif. The mountain air that morning filled his spirit with the thoughts of catching large game. The weather was perfect for it. As Detlif climbed and mounted his horse, Blandinus began to grin and even chuckle as he looked over at Meinard's satire expression.
"What are you doing?" Meinard asked up at Detlif on horseback.
"We approach on foot." Saying without waiting for an answer.
Detlif slightly embarrassed, climbed down from his steed.
He had alot to learn from his two veteran superiors. It was becoming increasingly difficult to understand why his companions had chosen him.
The men descended the mountain slope into the tree line of the woods approaching Turin. Just over a full day's hike.Even though the hike would take the entire day, it covered very little ground. The new King Victor Amadeus of Sardinia, had taken to his crown with a nervous action. He immediately began several new projects. All no matter how obscure or trivial seemed to have some significance towards the defense of the city. However the projects were quite numerous and the most substantial workings would take time. Time enough for Joseph II The Archduke of Austria, to send this small sortie. To see just how unprepared Turin might be and to see if the French had any interest as well.
Just after nightfall...
"Why on foot?" Detlif asked,
His embarrassment long passed after several hours and was forgotten, but now his question, he realized gave the impression of a weak and lazy complaint.
"If a patrol spots us, we will draw more suspicion being off the road with our horses." Blandinus answered with a satiric grin.
Meinard added,
"At least this way we could ask for directions back to camp."
Blandinus grinning once again at Meinard's slight poke at the inexperienced Detlif.
It was a full moon night, and the scouts knew they should be close, but the forest floor was dark under thick trees. Patches of moonlight through openings in the forest canopy allowed them to maintain their course. Still there is always an uncertainty on the "if and when" the destination will be seen. "There it is." Blandinus pointed at the sight of a grayish mass, seen through the opening ends of the tree line.
They were now standing before an open field roughly forty yards from the Turin wall.
"This is our breach." Meinard, now with a more serious quality.
"Once they begin the building project, they will erect two ramparts on each side."
"The work wasn't set to start for at least 8 months but with the new king, I'd say 3."
Detlif added, "With a breach like this, we have more then enough time."
"Still, we should get a closer look and determine the best form of entry." Meinard replied.
The Three men began their walk across the open field. The entire journey had seen no signs of patrol. The 3 men were now confident there was none.
Just a few yards away from the city wall and they hear a strange "snap".
Both Detlif and Blandinus, shot glances at one another noticing Meinard was no longer directly between them but a few feet back.
Both men dropped down in the high brush at the frightful sight of a silent Meinard. He was now standing in eerie silence, with hands twitching, and a long arrow piercing through his entire head. As the dark mass of blood ran down his face, his open mouth had given away his mind's own confusion, as to what has just happened and why his body wasn't reacting the way it should. With a slight twitch of his hand, Meinard tilted backwards and fell oddly towards the direction in which the arrow had came. He was dead before hitting the ground.Both men stayed down in silence, peering at the tree line for a sign of the enemy. Suddenly something moved in Blandinus's peripheral vision...
But it was over a mile away on the cliff overlooking the canyon?
Never the less he could see the rather large fellow in the moonlight. The giant figure then slowly backed away out of view.
"It came from the mountain." Blandinus now breaking the silence with this incredible revelation.
"What!?! Are you crazy?" Detlif whispered.
"I know! impossible shot, but still,"
"Wait!" Detlif interrupted, "Where is Mainard?"
Blandinus glanced over to see the body of his fallen comrade indeed had vanished, leaving a silhouette imprint in the still pressed brush.
"We need to get back to the tree line!"
Before Detlif could argue Blandinus rose up from the grass in a full run. Detlif could only follow and hope it was the right decision.
It seemed like an eternity. Several hours of negotiating every move in the forest darkness. Then up the slope. Then along the mountain passage. In complete silence. No sign of the enemy.
"Will we make it back?" Detlif thought,
"Will we survive to see the sunrise?" Even worse, "Would they be waiting for us there at the camp?"
Finally they came along their camp but stopped at a safe distance. They were now scouting their own emplacement. The horses were silent. Their belongings didn't seem disturbed. Blandinus drew his sabre and slowly approached...
"It was too quiet." Detlif thought,
"Maybe we should wait until sunrise." The novice suggested, "No!" Blandinus responded, "If we make it to horseback we have a chance."
"Chance at what?" Detlif asked.
"A chance to escape! You fool!"
Turning towards Detlif, Blandinus never saw it coming. The now dead body of Meinard came flying through the air as if it had been thrown like a spear. The head of Meinard's stiff lifeless body impacted the right temple on the head of Blandinus. Bringing both bodies crashing to the ground in a horrific manor.
Detlif looked down to see Blandinus with his head opened and his neck broke. Detlif wet himself and ran to his horse and fled without hesitation. He took nothing but his horse from the camp. He even left his hunting gear and saddlebag behind.
It was a two day fast ride back to the Habsburg Kingdom. Two days of fast riding with few stops. After two days without food and little water, Detlif arrived at the Austrian court.
It was there he accepted he was safe and it was there where he had finally collapsed.
In his exhausted maddened state he uttered one word as the Archduke and his men approached. Joseph seemed somewhat annoyed by Detlif's intrusive and somewhat dramatic entrance.
"What did he say? What did he say!?!" The Archduke asked his guards with demanding irritants"
His men not answering, for they hadn't understood it either.
Yet, as they looked down on this exhausted and traumatized man, he uttered it again, and this time they heard it. This one word was almost universal in it's acknowledgement. It also placed a look of fear on Joseph's face that equaled Detlif's.
Detlif only uttered this one word, and this one word was "Drago."
*** Drago and The Cavalry of Shadow ***
Drago... A mysterious name that struck fear in soldiers and kings alike. Some thought the name was a title bestowed upon the cavalry leader. Too many years had passed for it to be held by one man. Yet few had seen the face behind Drago, and the few descriptions of this man were strikingly similar. A well built giant at 7ft 275lbs, dark hair and olive complexion. Although the height and weight was often thought to be exaggerated. Few really knew anything, but what was widely known for several years and countless battles, The Cavalry of Shadow reigned unbelievable terror upon it's enemies.
Some would try to say that The Cavalry of Shadow was a myth or a tool for propaganda, but many kings and imperials knew the Dragoons were real. Few soldiers could validate this, as only there were few who survived.
Drago and his Dragoons were not soldiers of a flag and country, but Mercenaries.
For many years and many kings, Drago and his Cavalry were sought after to aid in skirmishes and war. Kings knew for a handsome price they could enlist the Dragoons into their services and victory would be assured. If one were to employ Drago's band before the outbreak of war, the opposing side would soon back down. Which is exactly what the Kingdom of Habsburg did in 1773.
War for now, had been averted.
You could see them approaching like a distant star as their armor shined that morning. It was an awe inspiring site. 40 Horses lined in perfect procession. Each man astride along with his horse completely covered in a chrome like armor.
"Seeing a man covered in such armor is one thing, but the horse as well?" An observer thought.
Adults and children alike stopped at the site of this passing line of silver horsemen. The silence occasionally disturbed by the distant onlookers shouting to others, "Look! Look! Come and see this!"
It was a slow gallop down the long and straight road leading through Turin to the palace. It was the strangest and most eccentric parade Torino had ever seen.
They had no flag. The armor had no markings. The only symbol visible was the dragon engraved on their shields.
As they approached the palace gate, the guards simply opened the gate and moved aside. The House of Savoy accepted these mysterious silver riders. Inside the main courtyard, the lead horsemen unmounted and addressed the Minister of Foriegn Affairs.
"Drago? You mean he's not here?" The minister asked, his surprise turning slightly towards dissatisfaction.
"No, I'm afraid not"
"However!" The horsemen abruptly speaking over the minister's premature response, "We bring a scout report from the north with two gifts."
The minister stood quiet and quite perplexed for a moment. He was still somewhat new to his position and a little intimidated by this overwhelming presentation of mere mercenaries.
"Well... Yes. Yes, of course this way please." As he ushered the man inside.Dario Marchetti was only a few who remained after serving King Charles Emmanuel III. Once a Page and adjutant now a Foreign Diplomat, and recently appointed Defense Minister by the newly crowned, Victor Amadeus III. More then half his life living in the palace of Turin, through many changes. Now as the two men headed towards the king's private chambers, Dario was preparing to introduce this somewhat lesser guest to his new King.
Dario suddenly stops.
"Well if you aren't Drago, then who should I say is here?" Asking the silver clad horsemen, now holding his helmet.
"Captain Bissente Negri."
There was a slight hesitation Dario had almost hidden as he thought, "Captain?" A rank among mercenaries. Still surprised by the mercenaries armour out classing that of the local guard.
"Very well!" Replied Dario.
As the two men now stood before the large double doors. Without introduction or even knocking, Dario partially and quietly opens the large doors and oddly, just enough, Dario himself slips in. Indicating to Captain Negri to wait momentarily outside.
It was quiet and as minutes passed, the captain wondered at how he would be received by the king. The king could easily take offense at Drago's decision not to be present himself. The young captain didn't really understand it himself, and before he could even prepare to explain this unexpected slight, Dario had returned.
"His Majesty will see you now."
Bissente stepped through the open doorway into the large chamber.
No announcement, No introduction, and as Bissente was about to speak, the king cuts him off."Where is Drago?"
Bissente calm and confident replied, "He sends his apologies your highness, but he had more pressing matters, in regards to last nights patrol."
"More pressing then to report to the king that's paying him?"
Bissente did not respond, allowing this question to pass.
Amadeus then reveals yet another conspiracy formed from this slight.
"Tell me captain, is it the Austrians or the French that have offered more to betray me?"
Bissente actually grins, and replies.
"With all due respect your highness, We wish to be known in our success. France and Austria are old empires. They may pay better but why would we accept a bribe? It's too easy for either of them to simply pay us to stand down so they can take your smaller kingdom in a weak moment."
Bissente pauses and glances at a dumbfounded Dario. Baffled by Bissente being so candid.
"No. Our success is to be right here between two established empires. Keeping them at bay while helping your kingdom establish a better defense."
"That is why you commissioned us, is it not?"
The king may not have wanted the insult but he was certain he was hearing the truth...
It wasn't long after in this informal meeting, that the king's pride along with his concerns were subdued.
In the end King Amadeus was certain he had made the right decision in hiring this mercenary cavalry. The majority of which were Sardinian natives after all. Plus the Austrian threat was dwarfed in comparison to the French.
In 1768 through 1769 the French invaded and conquered the island of Corsica. An island directly in between the isle of Sardinia and the mainland region of Savoy. The French had effectively split the Kingdom of Sardinia in two. Yet the division had only a geographical effect. Politically, the Sardinian kingdom was still (just barely) whole.
Amadeus didn't put much value on the Sardinian island, but after House Savoy's success away from French influence, he had no intention of giving up the island. The majority of Piedmontese didn't want French occupation either. The French royal family had developed a reputation for neglecting their own subjects. Still Amadeus was spared in having to defend the isle.
As soon as the French had Corsica conquered, The island of Sardinia was hit with a mysterious and deadly plague. So deadly, stories of it had spread through out continental Europe. One such story tells of Mediterranean pirates arriving to raid the island. They went to shore but never returned. The French found and scuttled the abandoned ship, which had remained anchored offshore. The French would not dare risk bringing it's contamination to their own shore. After the plague had run it's course, it had claimed over half the island population. Entire villages were wiped out.The French Army on the mainland, close to their own border, were still ambitious...
King Louis XV of France, had bitterly lost the Seven Year War to England in 1763. This caused him to lose favor among the people of France.
In 1769 the French Navy conquered Corsica. This may have boosted military morale but his political image still waned. Bad decisions or no decisions at all, followed by a succession of poor harvest, and an on going war with England strained his royal subjects and France's economy. The marriage of his grandson (Louis XVI) to the Archduchess of Austria, (Marie Antoinette) helped solidify an alliance between the House of Habsburg (Austria) and The House of Bourbon (France). Within the palace of Versailles, they had celebrated for days, but outside the celebration was short lived.
Now in 1773 his health declining, the king hopes to take advantage of the Habsburg alliance. Should Austria move to take the city of Turin, France would simultaneously annex the Rhône Alps region.
In preparation, the king dispatches a small cavalry troop, to cross inside the Rhône Alps (Savoy) and take position just outside the French border. This was expected to go unnoticed by the House of Savoy seeing as how the region declined after the move from Chambery to Turin. The French empire may have kept their motive hidden, but this dispatched calvary certainly didn't hide it's movement.
Guillaume Hubert,
Commandant of the 3rd Coutilier was a first year officer out of the royal academy. He was a traditionalist in strategy and a strong believer in civilized warfare.
Which is why he was carrying out his orders despite disagreeing with them. Still he maintained his French pride, and would display it through every village along the way. He kept his reservations quiet as well. Voicing such disagreements would mean treason no matter how sensible the opposition sounded.
Shortly after crossing the French border into Savoy, the cavalry took a subtle turn off the road into the rural region. They were now moving undercover in secrecy, through enemy territory. Before sundown, they stopped just south of Annecy, between the small village and the Massef Bauges. (Massive Bauges)
From there, they would travel by night along the shore of Lake Annecy, around the mountain to the alpine valley, east of Chambery.
From there they were expected to set up check points and begin meeting Austrian informants
but the first had yet to arrive.
"3 days have passed!" Said the frustrated Hubert. 3 days and the first set of informants still had not arrived.
"Shall I send a runner to his majesty?" Hubert's nervous adjutant offered.
"No." Hubert hesitated,
"We give these Habsburg's one more day." The Commandant ringed his hands with an exhausted anxiety as he looked out his large tent. The Rhone Alps is not an easy crossing and the Austrians had more of the task to cross them. "Delicate business." He thought, sending messages right under Amadeus's nose."
No, the Austrians still had at least one more day.
That night Commandant Hubert extended his outer perimeter to the east. He wanted to make sure his overdue guest would be spotted early enough without mistaking them for a local patrol.
Later that evening...
Seargent!" The Commandant called to his adjutant.
"Sir?"
"Retrieve some brandy from the medic domaine." He was going to need it. His back had began to ache as he finished his daily field report. He hadn't really done anything strenuous that day. He could only therefore conclud this to be a premature sign of stress and age. The brandy was certain to help him sleep.
At the head, on the east perimeter two guards were placed to a ridge overlooking the moonlit low ground.
One guard, whos back was turned urinating in the brush, was chatting away with a younger guard. Regailing glory days when the king still had honor amongst the army he commanded. The younger guard wasn't really giving this any attention when suddenly, he removed a scope from it's holster to look down on an open field. He interrupted the urinating chatter, "Do you hear that?" He asked. "Hear what?" The other guard asked. A rustling sound was growing louder and louder...
"That!" Said the wide eyed younger soldier still scanning his horizon in search of the source.
"Well now that you mention it, I do." The older soldier replies while closing his trousers. "Are you seeing anything?"
"Not yet but something approaches... I know it."
The younger guard looking ever so intently through the scope. His mouth hung open, desperately trying to spot any movement and source.
The older, more experienced soldier now gazing out, soon adds, "Sounds like horses."
Back at the camp, the evening watch was about to begin. Most men were bedding down as fires were being doused. It wasn't long before those who were still awake, began hearing it to. Most of them remained quiet while listening but whatever it was gained full attention. Some men started taking cover in the forest brush. An attempt at obscuring their numbers. If it was an enemy patrol, they could easily appear as a small envoy on it's way to Austria. They even had money to pay the Sardinians with separate orders mentioning a visit to Turin requesting passage.
It was the sound of approaching horses.
The sounds of a slow and steady gallop soon revealed the strange sight of black horses without riders. No saddles or armor. It's not common to see wild horses like this. Especially all of them being the same in colour. The hidden men stood back up as they all, watched this strange sight pass right through the center of camp. Most remained silent and confused. One man reached out and attempted to stop a passing horse. The horse just shifted it's stride and brushed passed. It was as if they were deliberately ignoring the camp. It seemed there were around twenty of them passing through and as the last two completed their passage, all the men were now staring in the northwest direction the horses went.
"What was that all about?" One soldier asked as he turned and faced the red eyes of a pale white demon with fangs drawn, standing directly behind him.
Before the first scream, flashes of pale shapes shot out in every direction! Crisscrossing the entire camp! Ripping into the tents, men, and the horses they rode in on! Screams didn't last long! Neither did the sound of ripping or blood spray! Within moments the camp was engulfed in chaos!
Yet Commandant Hubert, never even emerged from his closed and undisturbed tent which now, was starting to get drenched with blood...
The following morning was quiet as Commandant Hubert eyes opened and he began to get up. His back was still hurting. In fact, it was worse. "Seargent?" He called out with frustration. Things quickly became strange. Along with the mysterious back pain, it was unusually quiet. The light coming through the tent had a strange red glow. As if the sun was setting on the wrong side.
"Seargent?" He blasted. Where was this fool? He came off the bed lurching his back and irritated. "Why the hell isn't anyone answering me?" He thought.
Without so much as putting on a pair of slippers, he swung the tent flap opened and looked out.
Shock filled is mind and was overwhelming at the sight he took in. The camp was leveled. Destroyed and strewn, all about were bodyparts on a blood soaked ground. Any man almost left whole was impaled or piked. "My God!" A whispered shock escaped him. "What sick nightmare is this?"
He took no time to investigate. He yielded to no thought that could ascertain what had happened. He and his horse were left alive and undisturbed. He left the camp simply with that.
Though he raced west! West to his home border! The fast pace of the horse was agonizing on his back. "This could be war!" He thought. He wasn't sure what to say or how to say it. Would he go straight to the king? Would he report it to the war assembly? Was leaving his post as the only one alive a poor reflection on him? Where had he failed in protecting his men? So many thoughts raced faster then he could. He soon became aware that his pain made him wince. Twice he almost fell from the horse as it raced. Looking down at the hand that had recently touched his back, he saw blood.
As the situation seemed to sink in, it still remained baffling. He felt he could literally yell wake up and maybe this lucid nightmare may end... or maybe he was...dead?
"Oh God! I was not spared!"
He panicked.
"I need a doctor, or anyone at this point!"
"I need this rationalized!"
He crossed into France and headed for the nearest known city of Lyon. There he would start getting the answers his mind was starved for...
In Lyon one question was soon answered, he was alive. As people were rushing out of his way, as he rode fast through the streets, ordering those to move and make way.
"We must be quick Doctor!"
"I must get to Paris as soon as I can!"
Hubert urged, trying to maintain some dignified sanity.
"Where are your men? Your field medic?" The veteran doctor asked. He never knew an officer to flee a battle without his men, especially outside of war. As the commandant failed to answer his questions, he could see the confusion and almost embarrassed fear on the officer's face.
"I will have a carriage and driver to take you." The doctor assured his bewildered patient.
He began to cut the blood caked shirt open from the commandant's back. Then went silent as the rags were removed and warm water was used to clear the dried blood. Then he stepped back and paused.
"How did this?" "Who and why???"
"They wrote something." That last thought the doctor said aloud.
"What is it doctor?" There was a moment of silence following the commandant's question.
"What's wrong, damn it!?!"
With furious impatience the commandant snapped a look over his shoulder and noticed the mirror just behind the doctor who was looking at his back. The mirror revealed the strange carving on Hubert's back...
"What happened?" "What is that?!?"
"What does it say?"
The doctor gazed a strange look of confusion and answered the commandant quite plainly, "Drago"
~Earlier the Evening of the Massacre~
Just outside Montmelian, the giant man stops his black horse on a high ridge that looks out into the valley leading into Chambery.
Alessandro Bedwyr, known as "Drago" had arrived.
Behind him inside the tree line, were 16 slightly smaller men also on black horses. The large muscled horseman turns to rejoin his entourage but pauses to the sound of a man giggling. A rather annoying giggle at that.
"You're late Tik-Tic."
A short Egyptian man,
Taj Naik better known as "Tik-Tic"
A short giggling man wearing a painted white plaster like mask emerges from the brush holding a climbing tool known as a "piolet."
"Never rush the architect." Tik-Tic replied,
"Any problems?" Drago asked.
"None at all my lord! The Frenchman sleeps like a baby."
Tik-Tic was excited. Another prank was about to be performed.
Turning his back to Drago and his men he removes his mask and slips on a particularly interesting plague mask that seems to match the shape of the interesting piolet tool, he then tosses the tool to the ground.
Drago turns to his men and commands, "Dismount and remove the saddles. Take everything off them. No stirrups, no armour, no grieves. They must appear astray."
He pauses, "As for horseshoes, none will have time to check?"
A newly masked Tik-tic, takes a brief glance back, then approaches Drago's now naked horse. The short man standing eye to nose with the stallion, the long snout of the mask pressed to the snout of the horse, he whispers a chant then turns. He soon darts with surreal speed back into the valley without making a sound.
Drago and his men stood silent and waited...
Drago's horse then lifts a front leg and brushes a little dust, then begins a slow trot forward, into the direction Tik-Tic had raced away in moments before. All the horses followed in unison with Drago's horse leading the way. As they slowly trotted away, one man asked Drago, "Now what?"
Drago replied, "Now we follow. No more then 12 yards behind the last 2."
He then added, "We kill any human we see along the way."
*Human?*
Drago and these men appeared human but there was something strange in their movement. The horses made all kinds of rustling in through the brush. These men following made no sound at all. Yet they kept up perfectly. Their skin pale illuminated by moonlight gave them a ghost like quality, but at a distance they could not be seen. Not even by the eastern outpost on a ridge that two French soldiers had occupied.
As the horses past their confused faces, two of Drago's men suddenly dropped from the tree tops above. They dropped down on the two Frenchmen, and drained them without a sound. The moonlight revealed their killer's pale faces, had gone demonic from a feeding with fangs and blood red eyes. Soon Drago and his small unit approached the French hidden camp. All their demonic faces looked upon the backs of soldiers looking in the opposite direction at the last two horses that had just passed through.
"What was that all about?" One soldier remarked, as he turned knowing someone was behind him, but only briefly did he have time to learn, that the mysterious wild horses was a ruse.
The vampire he turned and faced brought its fangs to his throat, and with a crushing bite, had almost completely decapitated him. The rest of the soldiers barely had a glimpse at what was killing them, let alone alerting everyone else. For the following two minutes it was a gruesome blood bath. Drago did not allow full feeding attacks. Feeding attacks can help to maintain silence in small numbers, but in large groups it creates problems. Feeding on a man can occupy a vampire for up to two minutes. If the vampire is rushed the victim may not die right away. If the vampire takes too long the next victim may get away in the chaos. Not to mention Drago's small force was slightly outnumbered by at least 8 men. The crusades may have been long since forgotten, but history would pass down the lesson of what happens, when vampires boldly reveal themselves to mankind. The speed and brutality of it all may have appeared chaotic, but this was a well coordinated attack. The barbarity with a touch of mystery wasn't just a Drago signature, but a classic malkavian prank, orchestrated and masterminded by the short Egyptian vampire, known as Tik-Tic. When the attack was through, a drugged and asleep commandant Hubert, would return home with a message.
~Shortly after the surprise attack~
Tik-Tic now standing west of the camp. The sounds of agony and chaos behind him, smiles as he removes his long snout plague mask and begins removing the carrots and apple chunks from the mask. He now holds the mask like a bag and begins to feed the black horses that followed him at a distance on the half mile trek that had descended into the valley through the French cavalries secret camp. The elders were right, the most powerful empire of all in Europe, the French empire was a mere joke.
These black horses without saddles showed more loyalty and respect in their conduct for the carrots and apple he now fed them.
As things began to quiet down the prank was complete... Almost. The Commandant still had to ride home with the message carved in his lower backside. A scar he would carry for life. A well earned scar for being spared the horrific death his men had faced. Although the commandant would probably see it differently.
"Guilt" one of those human imperfections lost to him years ago in his embrace.
"Well done Tik-Tic." said the quiet and large moonlight shadow of Drago, now seen resaddling the lead horse.
Tik-Tic with a modest smile "Where to now my lord?"
"Back to Turin before sunrise." Drago explained.
It would be a fast ride. Celebration would have to wait for an outcome the following evening.
It looked as though Habsburg/Austria and the French Empire had to rethink their designs for the Kingdom of Sardinia.
Before departing Tik-Tic walks back to the camp to see the fruits of his labor. The scene was much different now.
The tents that once obstructed the view of the large clearing, now were in shreds of white sheets on the ground. Amongst body parts and small puddles of blood. Several pikes and wooden stakes had either heads or mutilated bodies impaled on them. Some bodys showed movement as they slid down.
Tik-tic again smiled. This time the voices in his head were singing his praises. He felt a sense of pride, power, accomplishment, even a little beauty. The artist completes another masterpiece. "Drago must feel this way himself." he thought.
I suppose all of us do."
As Tik-Tic turned to go ask, one voice within grabbed his attention.
"Why is it you perspire?"
Tik-Tic glances down at the palms of his hands, now glistening in the moonlight.
"That is strange." Tik-Tic was Egyptian, now combined with being a vampire he could easily say, he hadn't perspired in over a hundred years. He continued looking down at his palms as he strolled back to the horses, now being resaddled for their return trip. He was looking down rubbing the tips of his thumbs in his palms suddenly stopping as he was about to walk right into Drago's giant leg.
"Something wrong Tik-Tic?"
Drago looking down at Tik with a blank expression.
"Well it's just, I'm all sweaty?"
Drago with a raised brow, "Sweat... This concerns you?"
"Well this is something unnatural. I'm not one to perspire." Tik-Tic argued.
"It's just your hands Tik. You'll be fine." Drago's small attempt to ease a concerned Tik-Tic, only added to his curiosity at this physical manifestation. "Why is it just my hands that sweat?" Then Drago had a change in mind. He found the voices in his head were stirring for sex.
Perhaps, we take the night to Chambery, have dinner and celebrate. The vampires didn't hesitate accepting this idea.
Tik-Tic jumped as if light as a feather, onto the back of Drago's horse. Drago then rode leading his vampire cavalry to the nearest route to Chambery.
They stopped at a large tavern on the outskirts of town.
There they took in the local hospitality. (Literally)
For the most part, the tavern patrons that played host and dinner for the mercenaries were merry while alive. The barmaids and women customers swooned the men rowdy and cheerful and all the while Tik-Tic would perform magic tricks and play the piano most of the evening while Drago had his way with anyone he could take to his room.
As things began to quiet down, and patrons were slowly disappearing.
Tik-Tic once again, took notice of the perspiration from his hands. It was now a blue ink like perspiration. "What?" He stopped playing noticing the blue stains his fingers were leaving on the ivory keys. Around this same moment Drago began to notice beads of blue sweat dropping from his forehead onto the face of the dead woman he was having intercourse with.
If a dead woman wouldn't deter his desire, a few blue drops was only a minor distraction.
Tik-Tic was only 3'11at 150 pounds. (By appearance.)
Still as Drago snatched him up with one hand around the throat, his body slammed the wall with an unbelievable thunderous sound. The impact left a crack in the solid mortar.
"I'm in no desire for any more pranks this evening Jester!"
Tik-Tic struggled to speak but Drago had a firm grip. Then the small and rather quick Tik-Tic slapped Drago's arm from his throat and simultaneously drove both his feet into Drago's chest. Putting the much larger Drago flat on his back with an equally loud thud. Tik-Tic was now standing on Drago's chest with a small blade to his throat.
"Now let us clear the air my lord..." The small Egyptian was glaring at the surprised and blue stained face of Drago. "Why the elders assigned me to your charge I may never know, but let's not forget who's older. My work is yours to command but my loyalty belongs to Poveglia!"
Tik-Tic shows his free hand and blue palm to an irritated Drago, "This! This is not my doing!"
"You do remember the Poveglia proverb?"
"ßιuε ïš †hε †⊕ïι ⊕ƒ α ςα†αιψš†,
ωhεη ηεαr †hε ι⊕š† ßι⊕⊕dιïηε ïš drαωη,
†hr⊕ugh †hε ƒïειdš α† †hε εdgε ⊕ƒ †hε grεα† ∀αιιεψ.
†hε g ⊕ƒ α ςh⊕šεη mαικα∀ïαη šhαιι dαωη."
Tik-Tic continued,
"The lost bloodline is near. You know what this demands. The men may go back to Turin but we remain here in Chambery."
Drago swiftly slaps the short man off his chest sending him sliding down the second floor hallway. Both Vampires flash to their feet facing one another.
"No." Drago plainly replies,
"You will take the men to Turin. I will remain here in Chambery."
"As you wish my lord." Tik-tic responds but then adds, "Remember we don't just hear and speak them, (referring to those inner voices) but they listen as well."
~The following morning~
A frightened and confused man enters the magistrate office in Chambery. He informs the authorities that a tavern just beyond his farm was burned by French soldiers on horseback. He gives their last whereabouts and direction. When asked his name, the frightened man answered,
"Gérard Beufort"
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