William walked slowly through the winding streets of the foreign village. It was dusk and the merchants in the streets were beginning to close up their shops for the evening. He nodded to greet the man passing him, he didn't know enough of the language to easily converse with strangers. His education had taught him how to read and understand Latin but although the two languages were similar, the local dialect was proving to be beyond his grasp.
It was strange that the King would send him to negotiate with the elusive Italian merchant who had been bothering and attempting to bully the king. Anyone with enough status and wealth to intimidate a king should be dealt with by an army, not a single general with three loyal soldiers waiting at the inn.
He circled the city yet again, pondering his next move. He had been given next to nothing to find this merchant. He didn't even have a proper name. Three weeks ago he had caught a break when he'd shown a man in a pub the crest on the letter the king gave him. The man had gone white and whispered the word Volterra, then had refused to say another word. The old man had left the pub crossing his chest with the sign of the cross and praying rapidly in Latin. William had attempted to bribe the man with large sums of money to say more but he only continued to chant and trace the sign of the cross.
William followed the man's statement to the tiny town of Volterra. Going to Volterra simply felt right he couldn't explain why, but he had little doubt that he was in the right place. But where to go next? He'd walked the streets for days and hadn't seen any evidence of the merchant. He had asked, as best he could, if this man was known and no one could place him. William had figured any merchant wealthy enough to gain the attention of a foreign king would be easy to find. This assumption had been proven very false.
Every evening he returned to the boarding house for an evening meal and drink. Tonight though he felt he needed to upset this pattern. He wasn't hungry tonight, although he had no evidence of it, he felt like a change in his fortune was at hand. He had left his soldiers at the boarding house, he was tired of them following him around in circles. They had not given him any helpful insight, so they were better off at the inn.
As the streets grew darker he became anxious to ask another person about the crest, the endless circling was becoming monotonous. He turned down a side ally and stopped by a group of men outside of a stable. Again the men knew nothing.
As he turned back toward the main street he noticed a small ally to his right. It was little more than a drainage path between two tall stone houses. Staring at the abandoned ally he suddenly remembered the adventurous spirit of his youth. The world had seemed so vast and exciting. The woods behind his house turned into a new world of exploration, or it became a wild untame jungle and he was the lead explorer on the expedition into the wild. This small alcove held some adventure, he could feel it.
A small smile crept over his face. Why not. He wondered. It wasn't like he had any new lead on the crest, a small excursion would take only minutes. Most likely the alcove led to a dead end, or sewer. He looked up and down the street, no one would see him duck into the shadows. Without another thought he slipped into the darkness.
He could hardly see more than a few feet in front of him as he stumbled into a dirty puddle. He slowly moved down the corridor with one hand placed on the wall so he wouldn't be surprised by any sudden turns or dead ends. It was deceptively long and winding, soon it began to descend sharply and became a tunnel. He needed to stoop to avoid hitting his head.
He wasn't sure where he was going and the sense of adventure was steadily decreasing, being replaced by dread, and as much as he hated to admit it, fear. It was the fear that made him keep going. Being a trained soldier he hated being afraid. He had to prove to himself that there was nothing to fear from this silly tunnel. He would need to conquer this tunnel and to prove that fear was unjustified.
He thought for a while that he must have entered the sewers, but after awhile he was forced to dismiss this conclusion. There were no rats. He had pursued people into sewers before, disgusting job, Anne always hated it when he came home smelling like the sewer, even if he had bathed in the river for an hour before returning home she could smell it and would immediately know where he had been. Although Anne hated the smell but he hated the rats more. You could get rid of smells but rats made him crazy. The way they scampered around eating anything they could find on the ground, the sound they made, and worst of all the naked little tail.
An unexpected turn in the tunnel left him gripping the walls with both hands, until at last in front of him he saw a glimmer of light. Someone had lit a lamp down in this deserted corridor of the city. Next to the lamp was an ancient looking stone door, it was set ajar, just enough room for one person to pass at a time. On the handle of the door was a crest. The same crest that was imprinted on the letter he had carried from London.
He slid through the opening of the door and continued blindly through the dark corridors. He made turns and choose paths with little consideration, he hoped he would find someone soon because with every turn it became more unlikely he would find his way out unaided.
Suddenly as if responding to his fear, an outline of a man suddenly appeared before him. Instead of relief at finding another person in the darkness, the fear in his stomach multiplied. Ever muscle in his body told him to turn around and run, fighting his better judgment he forced his legs to stay imbedded in the ground.
"who's there?" he shouted, his voice cracking like it had eight years ago. No answer came. The figure ahead of him stood perfectly still.
"I've come to seek an audience with the man called Aro, I represent King Henry of England." A Ice cold hand closed around William's throat, the man had moved so quickly William wouldn't have had time to run if he had wanted too.
"You have found whom you seek." A cold voice whispered into William's ear. Terrified William found his voice was gone, he waited in silence for something to happen. He heard his heart beat faster and faster until the beats blended into a solid hum. He leaned against the wall behind him as his mind grew foggy and his legs unsteady.
"It is perilous to seek my family Sir William Hastings." The cold voice whispered again into his ear William coughed and sputtered helplessly as the hand tightened slowly around his neck. "yet you are in luck today, I can see you are talented. You find those who you seek. I am surprised you were able to find me with so little effort, and so little information. I believe, Mr. Hastings, that I can improve this gift." He paused momentarily easing his grip on William's throat. William gasped for air finding even though the hand was removed he couldn't draw breath. His legs collapsed beneath him and he slid down the wall landing in the dirt and stagnant water of the ally.
He'd never known a fear like this. He had been afraid in battle before, he had been afraid of the King he served, he'd even been afraid the day he married his wife, but never, in all of his twenty five years, had he felt this fear. This fear consumed him entirely, he was powerless against it. He knew it was futile to run, even if he could regain control of his legs the man would catch him before he could get away. It was not a man he was dealing with, it was a demon. Some evil William had never imagined bound to the floor of the dark ally.
"I do hope I don't kill you Mr. Hastings, you could prove to be an interesting immortal." He felt the demons lips part slightly as he finished his speech and the light graze of ice cold ivory against his skin. All thought was erased from his mind as the demon sunk his teeth deep into his neck replaced with fire and pain.