Dancing Firelight

Kelantha's Diary

He left the castle with false courage and the gypsies fetched him a horse, bringing it forth with ever-sober countenance. I watched him ride away to the chiming of distant bells, remembering when they too called me forth. The good little Catholics in the township would clutch their crucifixes to their breasts and hasten toward the churchyard, where they would pass into the cold stone interior and listen to the endless droning of the local priest. I remembered all too well similar years in my childhood, standing beside my mother with an open prayer book, staring at the stained glass window beyond the priest�s shaved head and wondering at the heavenly light that came through. Never again was I to experience that light in quantity or step across the threshold of a church. The bells brought a faint echo of emptiness within my soul that could not be squelched; it was not as much sorrow as the whisper of a past kinship no longer acknowledged, a twinge of mild resentment as well as the cruel delight of liberation.

I closed the window and moved down the hall, passing into the library where often hours of daylight were spent with the draperies drawn. A lamp was lit and burned brightly as I sought the shelves for new fascination to feast my mind upon. Crackling flames in the grate lured me into a sense of false security as I read, turning the pages of a book drawn at random with interest. It was a history of the townspeople, compiled by a historian who had passed through more than a hundred years before. Ordinarily I would have shown no interest except that my husband�s name appeared on the crude drawing on the foremost page, one name in a long line of descendents of his ancestors.

Long hours dwindled without my husband�s reappearance or Eduardo�s return. Only when the lamp burned out of oil did I lift my head, realizing that the darkness in the room was no longer merely the confines of drawn curtains. Twilight had come upon us and the sun was dying beyond the mountains, withering with a final tremble of golden rays. Throwing wide the draperies and breathing in the cold air beyond, I felt my instincts arising and went in search of him. I launched myself into the darkness, a whisper of flight that none could touch, even the magnificent birds of the night. They had often accompanied me, their ghostly eyes gleaming like lanterns from the darkness. It was often they and not I who alerted my prey, rustling in the branches overhead.

Dropping to the ground without disturbing a blade of grass, I drew my cloak around me and paced into the darkness. Far below, encamped near the river�s bottom, were the gypsies, the light of their campfire crackling brightly in the darkness. I did not know how they had come into Dracula�s servitude, nor if they ever suspected our origins. They were steeped in prophecy and other deviltries condemned by god-fearing men, and would have gladly sold their soul in exchange for a price. Their music wafted up through the trees, beckoning to me as I�d heard nothing so beautiful since leaving London. The night before my departure had been spent at a music hall, listening to the powerful tones of a violinist with heavenly talents.

Although I felt the need to hunt, I was drawn to it, passing through the trees silently. It is well that I did so, for it might have been the end of Eduardo had I not. While the gypsies were loyal to the count and his bride, despite general supposition that I�d ended the unfortunate life of one of their elders, they were cunning. The townspeople knew not to trust them. Children, animals, and household wares were kept locked away from their eager hands. They were gathered around the caravan of brightly painted colors, laughing and drinking around the fire. There was a fiddler in their midst, dancing as he played, his grimy hat pulled low over piercing dark eyes intent on the flying work of his fingers. I did not enter the circle of light or make myself known, but instead remained in the shadows, watching. I could sense their energy, hear far more keenly the tapping of their feet than mere mortals might, see the blood pulsing through their veins.

The moon had come out and was nearly full, a hallowed white face in the sky, observing all with sober candescence. And along the road from town came a rider. I was drawn to him, watching from the darkness. He was not moving at a rapid pace but nerves were evident, for he held the reins very severely and his face was concealed beneath the hood of his cloak. Every few paces he would stop, turn back as if anticipating something there, and then urge the mount on again. I had just parted the leaves and meant to step forward when I recognized him as our unfortunate visitor. Eduardo had clearly been out all day, attending mass, dining with the curate and his wife, and was only now returning home, clearly lost and worse the wear for wine.

My lips curved, and I wished Dracula might see him now, for there was nothing my husband abhorred more than intoxication in mortals. It transformed them into fiendish imbeciles and made their blood intolerable. Eduardo had evidently seen the fire and was now drawing in my direction. Stumbling off his horse, he left the reins tied badly to the nearest tree branch and wavered through the wood. Entering the clearing to the general astonishment of all gathered, he inquired rather loudly but with a tremor, �Castle D-Dracula!�

The gypsies looked at him and the music abruptly stopped. An old woman with her mouth closed rather severely around a foul-smelling pipe squinted at him in the firelight. Emboldened by the wine, Eduardo took another step forward and repeated, �Dracula! I�ve� lost my way.� He slurred slightly and gave them a sheepish smile. He would have been humiliated had not his mind been impaired and I took secret glee in his foolishness. The gypsies eyed one another and their rather distinguished guest with his fine topcoat and then indicated he sit down. �We�ll take you there,� they said, �but first you must eat.�

At first he protested but soon gave in and happily dug into a plate they gave him. I knew what they were about and lingered, caring not that the moon was moving across the sky and dwindling my hunting hours. Eduardo�s eyes drooped and his tin plate slid into the grass. The old woman winked at her companions, and two of the men advanced. They halted as I strode into the clearing, a magnificent specimen of deathly radiance. If there was any they feared aside from Dracula, it was his bride. �Such earnings are beneath you,� I said as I drew near, noting how they pulled back from me hastily. �Give him to me, and I shall take him home.�

There was, as I�d intended, grave meaning in that and for an instant I thought they would not cling to curiosity. But one offered feebly, �If you intend such, Countess, he has no need of his material possessions.�

�He has grave need of them, for Dracula would be most displeased.� I rested my hand on Eduardo�s shoulder and he started, turning to stare up at me with a mixture of relief and open horror. �You have wandered away, Senor. Come, I am to take you home.�

I led him away from the encampment that had meant him ill. I�d seen the gypsies in such tactics before, first to befriend and then turn on. Eduardo�s body would have been found floating in the river beneath the castle, which might have suited me but would have seriously displeased my husband. He would have known of my involvement and the rage I�d temporarily experienced on other occasions would have been nothing in comparison to his irate fury at finding his little bird�s neck wrung. Eduardo stumbled by my side, for I�d released him once leaving the circle of lamplight, apologizing profusely for his state. He kept lapsing into his native tongue and I did not understand half of his babbling, nor did I wish to. Taking the horse by the reins, I led them both through the trees.

The last stretch was the longest, through the fields and approaching the castle from the west. Water lay heavy in the low places, for it was content to rain in the daylight hours as gloom pervaded the countryside. Eduardo was too stupefied to notice the lack of reflection, only he the reins held forward at odds as if drawn by a phantom. We had no more crossed the meadow when Dracula appeared before us, his expression unreadable. Before his lips parted I said demurely, �You should keep your pets penned, my love, lest they wander far.�

For an instant something flickered through his eyes; whether it was admiration or mild resentment, I could not tell, but he smiled and replied, �Why should I, when I have you to return them to me?� His expression faded slightly as he gazed upon our inebriated guest, and I knew he would require my assistance. Once again appraising his thoughts, I said, �I fear I cannot stay. I have not yet fed and the night is waning fast. I trust you will settle him?� My hands transferred the reins into his palm and turning, I left without a backward glance. I heard Eduardo gape after me and he inquired dumbly, �Is she not to come in, then?� before I vanished into the trees. 

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