READ AUTHOR'S NOTE FIRST
Author's Note: After much debate, I have decided to change my pen name. I am not sure what I am going to change it to yet, but I will keep you updated. Anyway, this chapter is rather short, but I felt I had to post something. Chapter 15 will not be coming for a while, I have lost my inspiration for writing due to the death of Sir Tristan (If you have seen the movie King Arthur, you know who I am talking about). I know it seems idiotic, foolish, and extremely weird, but I am going through an intense grieving period. I apologize for this. I love you all so much and the reviews and support you have given me are worth more than gold. Thank you!
Chapter 14 – He is the Wolf
"Isabelle!" Gabriel cried, his clear voice ringing in the air.
Isabelle burst out of the house, her long hair tied back in two braids. She was dressed in riding clothes that had once belonged to her mother.
"Yes, Papa?"
Gabriel smiled at his daughter and motioned towards the barn. "You must see what Friar Carl has brought with him from the Vatican."
Isabelle nodded excitedly and followed her father to the barn. Once they were inside, he made her close her eyes. "No peeking," he warned.
Gabriel led her to a stall. "You can open your eyes now."
She squealed with delight when she saw the horse that was in front of her. He was young and frisky, a beautiful Andalusian/Arabian cross. And he was the exact color she had dreamed of: a dark dapple grey.
"His name is Tynan," Gabriel said proudly, kissing her forehead. "It means 'dark' in Celtic. I am sure with a little training he will bare you well."
"He looks a lot like Amadeus, Papa," Isabelle said, grinning from ear to ear. "I miss that horse." She reached forward to touch the colt's soft muzzle.
"I bet you would be pleased to know that this is the son of Amadeus," Gabriel said with a chuckle. "You know Carl. He takes care of everything. But would you like to see my new horse?"
She squealed with delight as Gabriel took her hand, leading her to another stall.
"This is Ajax," Gabriel said, stroking the palomino stallion. "He is only four years old but Carl assured me that he is fully trained. He is beautiful, don't you think?"
Isabelle nodded in agreement, looking up at the massive horse. "He is."
"But not as beautiful as you," Gabriel said, lifting her up and twirling her around in the air. "Just like your mother."
Isabelle laughed and hugged Gabriel. "I love you, Papa. And I always will."
I awoke drenched in sweat and tears. Jovan was standing over me, his warm eyes full of worry. To ease his distress, I smiled and petted his neck.
"Hello, gorgeous. What are you doing here?" I said, realizing that I was in my room.
The stallion shook his mane and pulled down my covers, revealing that I was dressed in a soft satin gown. My hair was done up in a bun.
"Who dressed me?"
Jovan nipped at the dress with his teeth and pulled me into a sitting position. My question seemed unimportant to him, so I did not think about it further.
"What day is this?" I asked groggily.
"Thursday, Miss. And in the middle of the afternoon." Havard came in, carrying a tray steaming with tea and cookies. Chocolate chip cookies.
He set the tray down on my lap and smiled. When I didn't dig in right away, his smile turned to horror and he fell on the ground, sobbing.
"Havard thought Miss might like chocolate chip cookies! Especially after what Miss has been through!" He banged his little fists on the floor, causing quite a racket. Jovan pinned back his ears and stepped away.
"No, Havard, I LOVE chocolate chip cookies. I'm just tired, that's all. Here, see?" I said, taking a bite. They were delicious.
He wiped away his tears and smiled. "Does Miss like them?"
"Very much, Havard. Thank you."
The diminutive creature beamed at me. "Havard is so glad."
Jovan snorted and seemed to roll his eyes. I stifled a chuckle.
"How is Valdemar?" I said, taking another bite from the cookie. Chocolate never tasted so good.
"He is holding up, Miss. Fenrir and Havard were able to restore his blood supply. He is sleeping in a coffin downstairs."
"And the library?"
Havard looked down. "The master destroyed many a book, Miss. Havard was not able to save them. However, Jovan and Havard succeeded in clearing out the broken pieces of furniture and the stairs are as good as new." His tiny ears drooped a little.
"Well, that is bittersweet news." I sipped the tea and felt my problems go away temporarily.
"The master wants Miss to meet him there, today, after Miss is done eating," Havard said. "The master says he wishes to teach Miss something."
What could I possibly learn from him, besides how to unleash my anger in a unhealthy way, I thought, but did not say it out loud.
"Very well. Tell your master I will meet him." Havard nodded and left, singing some random children's song. Jovan snorted in disapproval of the small creature and stuck his nose in my face.
"Yes, my love, I know. But at least he has a good heart."
"You wanted to see me?" I said, announcing my presence.
Vladislaus was sitting at a desk, his muscular frame bent over a book, Aeneid, by the Latin poet Publius Vergilius Maro. Two strands of long raven hair hung in his eyes.
"Yes. Yes I did." He stood, shutting his book with the finesse of an accomplished reader. Wait… was that even possible?
"I believe that this 'game' we are going to play might be of some benefit to you, Isabelle," he said, grabbing a thick violet scarf from the table next to him.
"Game?"
"Yes, game," he repeated, handing me my necklace. I put it on without saying a word.
"You do know that bats are blind, my dear, don't you?" he said, his tone dangerous. I began to feel uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze. He was searching my thoughts again…
"Yes," was my weak reply.
"In such case, they depend on different and much more reliable senses, such as hearing and smell." He walked behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. What I felt just by his touch was enough to shake me senseless. But I kept my sanity.
"So," he whispered, "You are about to experience what it is like to be a bat." He took the scarf and wrapped it around my eyes, tying it secure with a double knot. Wonderful.
"Now, here is the object of the game," he said, but his voice was more distant this time. "You must find me, relying on your other four senses. And don't you DARE remove the blindfold." His voice was sharp, like ice.
Great. So now what I am supposed to do? Fumble around till I fall on my face like a blubbering idiot? I don't think so!
Sighing, I took two steps forward. This was impossible! How was I supposed to find him? The library was HUGE. He could be anywhere.
Another two steps, and I felt something with my left foot. The desk. I was in one of the six corners of the library. I placed my hand on the desk and turned around, determined to keep my sense of direction, and trying to ignore my vulnerable state.
Use my other senses. The best bet I could go with was hearing, so I waited in silence and listened. Nothing. He was just like a cat.
"Not so easy, now, is it?" Vladislaus's voice vibrated throughout the library, so I wouldn't be able to guess where he was.
"No," I answered bitterly. "You wouldn't happen to have any suggestions?"
"Without sight, humans are weak. But they fail to realize that sight is the most deceiving and the most fallacious sense that they possess. Don't trust everything your eyes show you, Isabelle."
"That was NOT what I was asking," I said, growing angry. Yes, he was enigmatic, yes, he was gorgeous, and yes, intelligent beyond a shadow of a doubt, but he was starting to annoy me with all his hidden meanings.
"Think, child, think. How do you feel?"
"Isolated. Alone. Deprived."
"Deprived of what?" His voice was now coming from the ceiling, which told me he was taking a stroll upside down.
"Of my right to live. I cannot… I cannot go on without my sight," I admitted foolishly, looking up, following the direction of his voice. "I will not survive."
"How do the blind manage to live, then?" He asked, although I knew that he knew the answer.
"I do not know. Perhaps if they are born with it they learn to adapt."
"And if they aren't?" He was coming closer.
"Well, what does it matter to you? We are all food for vampires, despite our physical and mental capabilities," I retorted, feeling both agitated and ashamed that I could not comprehend what he was trying to explain to me.
A short chuckle, a gust of warm air, and the blindfold was off my face. I scrambled away from it and glared up at him from my position on the ground.
"Very good for a stubborn 16-year-old," he proclaimed, still hanging upside down.
"I am glad to have your invaluable approval," was my smart-aleck and rude answer.
"Ah, Fenrir, nice of you to join us," the count said, turning, his strands of black hair shimmering in the extensive light of the chandelier.
My entire body went numb as the wolf entered, his eyes narrowed and hackles raised. Fenrir's threatening gaze was directed straight at me.
"C-count…" I pleaded.
"What? You expect me to save you a fifth time? Can't get out of the predicament by yourself? Better face a danger once than be always in fear." His tone was cold and vindictive.
The wolf growled and started towards me. I knew the look on his face. He was accusing me for what had happened to Valdemar. But it hadn't been my fault! Had it?
"Fenrir, please," I started, not acknowledging how useless it was to bargain with a wolf, "I didn't mean…" The wolf ignored my futile ranting and growled again.
Vladislaus sighed dramatically and dropped from the ceiling, landing on his feet with the grace of an experienced and seasoned warrior.
"Fenrir, come," he called commandingly, pointing in front of him with his hand. The wolf left me at once and raced over, his tail wagging like a puppy. He stopped quickly next to Vladislaus and sat. The count stroked him on the head, murmuring some unknown language that I did not understand. He glanced up at me with a triumphant and amused smile.
"You too, Isabelle."
"I scowled and approached, hating the count and Fenrir more with every passing second. I missed Gabriel dreadfully…
"Here, pet him," Vladislaus said. It was more of a request than a command, so I consented. The wolf's fur was silky and smooth, almost like mink. I smiled, letting my hand run along Fenrir's thick neck and well muscled shoulder. Such power and such beauty contained in such a vicious and wicked animal. And as I looked over at Vladislaus, I realized that in a sense, he was the wolf. They were both just simply misunderstood. As you would never scold a wolf for hunting a rabbit, how could you scold a vampire for seeking relief from his never-ending thirst? As immoral as it sounded, it was the inevitable truth.
"I think he likes you," the count said, breaking my reverie. I nodded and continued to caress the luxurious fur. Fenrir turned his head around and licked my hand. What a quick change of heart, even for a wolf.
Author's Note:
Publius Vergilius Maro – Virgil