Vlad Chapter II: Luminita

Desponia whispered in Vlad's ear.

"Do you thirst? I know a fool who'll be missed by no one, a drunkard who passes out each night in a hayloft not far beyond the village. He is a traveler, a thorn to the locals as he begs for spare coins and is intoxicated throughout the day."

"A sort not likely to be missed."

"The barn is a mile south of the Plough and Stars; we shall visit the drunkard and stop for my gypsy on the return. Have Ehrlich hitch our team."

Vlad smiled. "Stealth and the end of a drunkard."

***

They sat in the courtyard an hour later, watching as Ehrlich led their team from the stable, spirited animals, large and robust, tossing their heads and stepping high.

"Quite a curious-looking fellow, this man of yours," Desponia said, "His nose dominates his face, bulbous and pitted as it is. His forehead is a stone outcrop. See where it overhangs the misaligned eyes. And his hair is certainly sheep’s wool. Oh, but how his face twitches, Zeus's beard, but the man is a cretin! He does not speak except to instruct the horses. He resembles an ox in a tunic."

Vlad looked curiously at Desponia. "Ehrlich is not a handsome man, but for all his loutish appearance, he is intelligent and a fine example of loyalty. My spells do not affect him, yet he would lay down his life for me."

As Vlad spoke, Ehrlich glanced at Desponia, knowing her an enchantress of some kind, a creature of ephemeral, if not impossible, beauty. She was not of this world; no natural woman had eyes that glowed with phosphorescence. They did so day and night, projecting a force from within, a thing to pluck a man's sanity, replacing it with an obsession for her beauty alone. He looked quickly away, knowing better than to hazard her eyes and be drawn to her haunted interiors. He opened the carriage door, holding a lamp to light the way.

Richly fitted, the interior had facing couches, each of Corinthian leather, and walls of plush multicolored velvet.

Vlad sat opposite Desponia, noting a wry smile at the corners of her mouth.

"Does the anticipation of your gypsy excite you beyond your usual reserve?"

"You've not yet seen her."

Vlad rapped the carriage ceiling, and Ehrlich ordered the drawbridge lowered.

The carriage lurched through the gatehouse, rolling across the drawbridge and the rocky chasm below. They bumped steadily through alpine meadows on the dirt and gravel road, which Vlad paid local peasants to maintain, then disappeared into the depths of the Transylvanian Forest.

Ehrlich's lamp illuminated the ghostly stands of beech, oak, ash, and elm hemming the road, wheels rolling through low-lying vapors reaching into the darkened forest. A pack of wolves tracked their progress, following behind and gliding past to scout forward positions. Screech owls, announcing to all within hearing distance that Vlad approached. Meanwhile, inside the carriage, Vlad questioned Desponia.

"Tell me more about your gypsy. How does she present?"

"As Sappho from the island of Lesbos."

"From Greek antiquity? I know of her only from poetry."

"She was a goddess in her own right, and I remember her with great fondness, the gentlest of mortal beauties with hair that fell to her waist. Her scent was of a freshly turned garden in spring, warm and ripe with fertility. She worshiped Aphrodite, but I wanted her for myself, so I cast a spell on her such that she saw only Aphrodite when I drew near. I seduced her, and she wept with gratitude. 

When I'd finished with my pleasure, I left her sleeping. On that same day, she wrote a poem that endures until this day, 'An Ode to Aphrodite' Perhaps you've heard of it?"

"I have."

"Even then, Hera hated me too well. She revealed the ruse to Sappho, who was heartbroken and threw herself from a cliff into the Aegean Sea. So will it be with all whom I love?"

"And the gypsy?"

"I'll keep her as long as she continues to worship me."

"But you've asked me to make her immortal. What if she loses interest in you then?"

"Then I'll drag her into the sun and watch her turn to ash."

Vlad looked thoughtfully out the carriage window. I have great pity for Sappho.

"You've suggested your gypsy is a beauty? There are not so many beautiful women in Medias. What name has she?"

"Luminita."

"She has no husband?"

"She does; I erased him from her memory," Desponia said with a villainous smile.

They came to the village.

Ehrlich steered the carriage through a narrow street, rumbling over cobblestone where signs creaked in an alpine breeze, streetlamps cast restless flickers on darkened windows, a bootmaker, a sweet shop, and more. Past the street was a square.

Desponia pointed to a structure. "Look, Vlad, the Christian church. On Mount Olympus, there's talk that you fear the crucifix."

"I fear no cross. Nor do I fear other Christian trinkets, rosaries, and votive candles. I would dress a monkey in a priest's vestments and lead him on a leash for all I care of sanctity."

"We approach the Tavern where my gypsy works."

A dozen men were out mauling each other. They stopped to stare as the carriage rolled by. Desponia craned her neck to see inside.

"That's the gypsy's husband," said Desponia, pointing to one of the noisemakers. "A rabble-rouser and a vulgarian."

Ehrlich drove the team faster as he calculated the moon's position. When they'd drawn within a quarter mile of the drunkard's barn, Vlad rapped the ceiling, and Ehrlich brought the team to a halt.

The sky was midnight, with the wind pushing the evergreens. Ehrlich held the door as Vlad descended the two steps. Then Desponia appeared, and Ehrlich avoided her eyes. He felt the tip of an index finger caress the side of his neck as she passed.

"Thaaank you, Ehrlich," she teased.

"Must you?" asked Vlad.

"I'm very excited for this drunkard," said Desponia. "Follow me. Let me be the one to wake him."

"As you wish, Desponia."

They approached an open barn with a hovel next to it. Vlad stood at the entrance while Desponia climbed a wooden ladder to the loft. There was a loud thud, then a tremendous racket. Suddenly the drunkard dropped from the full height of the ceiling, landing on his back directly below the loft opening. Down flew Desponia, landing on the drunkard's chest, pulling up her skirts, rolling her hips forward and muffling his cries. She threw her head back and laughed while Vlad plucked pieces of straw from her hair.

"Are you trying to tickle me, drunkard?" Desponia asked. She yanked his ears and pressed more firmly against his mouth.

Suddenly Desponia jumped to her feet.

"Eeek! By the gods, this imbecile has just abused my ethereal honor."

"Pray to tell how," said Vlad with  a wry smile.

"How else but with a bite? I’m through with the play, Vlad. He's yours for the slaughter."

Vlad lifted his hand, casting a spell; an invisible force jerked the drunkard off the floor and held him dangling in the air, twisting his vertebrae apart, tearing cartilage as the drunkard folded backward, head to heel and floated to merciless Vlad, whose mouth gaped with exposed fangs.

Desponia watched gleefully as Vlad drank, dropping the drunkard's husk on the floor and wiping his mouth. Her eyes widened, pulsing shades of green and yellow as she panted. Her breasts heaved. And then she reached out as if to pluck something from the air.

"Did you not see it?" she asked, in a near trance. It was there for the briefest moment, then gone."

"I took his life; your drunkard is what's gone," said Vlad.

"Yes, but the escaping spirit. Is it?" she asked, turning toward Vlad, "Was it the Christian spirit?"

"The Christian spirit is a narrative. Nothing more."

"You saw nothing more than death? I have grown weary of your existentialism. I saw a soul!"

"Perhaps you are mad."

"As if it would matter," said Desponia, "but now my thoughts are for my gypsy."

"To the carriage, then."

Ehrlich jumped from the driver's box and held the door upon hearing his master's approach. And then he started his team for the Plough and Stars.

****

Desponia pushed open the tavern door and stood in the entry with Vlad. The hour was late, and the crowd had cleared save the gypsy, the tavern owner, and the gypsy's husband. He was a powerfully built man, and he gripped the gypsy arm as he shook like a rag doll.

"I'll teach a lesson you'll not soon forget, wench!"

He tore her peasant's blouse, and one of her breasts tumbled into view. Her eyes widened, the ends of her raven hair touching the floor as she pulled back, catching hold of his wrist and prying.

Seeing Vlad, the tavern's owner quickly exited through a service door.

"I know you not!" cried the gypsy at her husband. She shot a desperate glance at Desponia, "I know him not," she cried.

"Release her," said Vlad, stepping forward.

"Or what!?" shouted the husband.

"Or I will turn you into a donkey," said Desponia, stepping past Vlad and pinching the husband's face between her thumb and forefinger. "Have you not noticed an excess of wayward asses in this town? Would you become one?" She stared into his eyes and cursed him.

"I am a lost man," he muttered, stumbling out the tavern door and away to wander the twilight perimeters of hopeless confusion.

Luminita turned to thank Desponia. The goddess pressed her mouth against the gypsy's lips.

"I've brought you something," she said, reaching into the folds of her skirts and producing a string of pearls.

"What are they?" asked Luminita.

"These are called pearls," said Desponia, reaching around Luminita's neck to fix the clasp.

"They seem a thing of value."

"As I have said, they are pearls and far from ordinary. No other woman possesses such as these. They are from the White South Sea."

"I should be pleased then. But who was that evil man who had my arm a moment ago?"

"You have never known him. He no longer knows himself. Do you remember I promised you a castle? Well, now there is an adventure for the three of us."

"You and I, together with this man?" asked Luminita, looking at Vlad, then burying her pretty face in Desponia's bosom. "He frightens me. What is he? Why can I suddenly not remember my age?"

"You are eighteen years old, Luminita. The rest you will learn over time. Let us be gone from here; our carriage is waiting."

"I suppose so," she said, shyly touching the pearls. "Are they lovely?"

"They do you justice."

While traveling back to the castle, Luminita fell asleep with her head in Desponia's lap.

Ehrlich guided the team masterfully, knowing that dawn was approaching, and his master shunned the light of day. He raised a conch shell to his lips and signaled the gatehouse. The drawbridge came down, and the carriage rumbled over.

Vlad walked quickly into the great hall, his heels echoing as he made for his chamber, down the corridor to the iron door, the bolt an Egyptian design from the pyramids. He rotated the cylinder of a windlass, lifting a block weighing multiple tons, then tied the windlass off and pulled the bolts. Once on the other side, he lowered the stone and began his descent to the mausoleum. He lifted a lid, swung himself to the interiors, then lay on his back while the undead sleep washed away his memories of the night.

Meanwhile, Desponia brought Luminita to the corridor leading to the grotto.

"I'll have the servants prepare food, Luminita, but first, I would have you bathe. Come." She took Luminita by the hand and led her down a slope, pushing a door open and smiling at Luminita in the wavering reflections.

"You are lovely, but you tremble."

The goddess took Luminita to the pool, embraced her and whispering something in her ear.