"Pappa"
I had been born and raised in Fiornze, the place you now call Florence, the grand city we now sit just outside of. In my youth I sat at fireside meets and listened to the old women and wandering soldiers tell tales of the world�s wonders. I heard tales of terrible creatures and mighty heroes. The tales of ancient myth, Hercules and the gods, witches of power, mad things and dragons of the far east, lamias and the feared undead, the Vrykolakas. How was a little boy to know that one day, he would become one of those legends? Eh? Well, none the less, I ended my commission and looked to the lands of my birth once more. I took leave of my command, taking only my armor, gladius and shield, the gold I�d earned and my favored instrument with me.
I returned to my Florence, expecting to spend the rest of my days telling the tales of my journeys. Apparently, fate had much more in store for me. I was 50 years old. Ancient by the telling of most around me (chuckle), if Marcus could see me now�I digress�I had been asked to come from Florence to Roma, to entertain for the Pope and guests no less. As a troubadour, how could I refuse such an honor? So I made the short journey. There are no words to describe what Roma, the place you call Rome now looked like in those days, much damage had been done due to wars and invasions, but her beauty was still almost complete then. One with your new Toreador eye would be lost in such magnificence. I came to this place happily, a slight illness making me a bit dizzy, but other than that I was well.
The evening came and I was called on to perform and it was indeed as great an honor as I had been told it would be. The Pontiff, cardinals, the generals of Rome�s army were all there. I told them tales of Rome�s past glory, stories of the Apostles, simple parables about the men who fought for the empire�s glory. They applauded and in that moment an old man was happy.
In the group of nobles was a woman, a creature of beauty, whose eyes shown like little emerald fires through the throng of listeners. She smiled, taking me with her. I wasn�t even aware of her patron who sat next to her. Arius Marcus, a lean man of handsome personage and quiet strength. The woman came to me later to talk with Arius at her side. They introduced themselves to me as merchants. The woman was a child of mixed blood, Greek and Moor, Louisa was her name and she was a painter. We talked the whole of the evening then they retired from me near sunrise. I slept the day away, dreaming of this one great night, the coughing I had been experiencing was getting worse.
The very next evening I encountered them both once more, this time on the road outside the city. They offered me to ride with their caravan back to Florence. As Arius put it�I would see the city that has given such a man with heart and vision to the world�a fine compliment to an old man from one so young I thought. So I joined them. Talking and riding. Reaching Florence, they stay. Arius set up his business there and prospered. My humble home became our regular meeting place. We talked and laughed right here in this very wine grove, under stars. I grew to love sweet Louisa�s very presence, though I said nothing. In so many ways she seemed to belong to Arius, in a way as powerful as love yet not in love�s way.
About two years later, on my 52 birthday, my illness caught up with me. I had grown steadily weaker over the two years. That cough, now wracked my body, I was pale and weak. Hardly was I worthy of the grace that they showed me, but Louisa would not leave my side and Arius stat with me each night telling me tales now, keeping death�s fear from my heart. The night of my birthday his words could do no more neither could the apothecary. The pain came so intensely I prayed that God release me, Louisa sweet Louisa�she came to me that night. I remember her soft skin in the moonlight as she cried over me, her lips�she made love to a dying man that night, giving me her love so that I might take it to heaven with me.
That is how Arius found us. Louisa asleep on my chest, still crying.
You are a brother to me Alphonsus, you have shown us both only kindness, respect and family�let me take this pain from your breast. I would no sooner lose you than would Louisa who has come to love you even more than I. I offer you healing my brother, in blood. I can make you well, but you must not fear me. I will never harm you. I can remember those opening words and how heart felt they seemed. I remember him leaning to me sharp nails opening his wrist and his blood pouring into my mouth. I was repulsed at first, fear gripping me. But Louisa stirred, whispering in my ear�please stay with me�her touch calmed me and I became his ghoul.