Last Vampire 6(27)

I have to smile It is only a story. "What really happened, my friend?" I ask, a mock­ing note in my voice.



Dante is not dissuaded. "The Medusa never com­pared herself to anyone. She thought she was beyond comparison, beyond all the gods and goddesses. It was only her hair that became monstrous—her face remained beautiful."



I laugh. "That is good to know."



"It is an important point. One never knows if it was her beauty or the serpents on her head that were able to turn men and other creatures to stone. But I must continue with the tale. Perseus, given a divine shield by Athena, and winged shoes by Hermes, approached Medusa's cave while the monster slept, Perseus took special care not to look directly at her. All around him in the cavern were the stone figures of men and women and animals who had chanced to gaze at the evil creature.Guided only by the Medusa's image reflected in his bright shield, he cut off her head and ended the threat of the monster."



"Then he gave the head to Athena?" I knew the end, I thought. Dante shook his head and spoke seriously. "That is not true. He kept it for himself. It was withth e Medusa's head that he was able to defeat Atlas, and steal the gods' golden apples. It was only with theMedusa’shead that he was able to turn to stone theTitanthat was threatening to eat Andromeda, whowouldlater become his wife." Dante shook his headagain "Perseus never gave up the severed head of theGorgon. It was too valuable a weapon." I continue to smile, even though I know we draw close toL andulf s castle. The forest has changed, become wilder and darker, filled with trees that have twisted arms for branches, sharp nails for leaves. A gloom hangs over the land and it depresses even me, me who is usually not affected by subtle elemental vibrations. Even the sun's rays are dimmed by a gray overcast that appears made more of dust than water vapor. There is a constant odor of smoke, and I believe I detect the stench of burnt bodies. Still, I think I am an invincible vampire, no easy victim for Landulf and his black sorcery.



"That is only one version of the story," I say.



Dante regards me with disappointment.



"It is the correct version, my lady," he says. "It is an important story. Hidden within it are many great truths."



"You will have to explain them to me another time." I pause and survey the land ahead. We are in rugged mountains made of hard rock and dry river­beds. In the distance hangs a black mist that even my supernatural vision cannot pierce. This unnatural cloud clings to some kind of massive stone structure, but I cannot discern the details. I point and ask, "What is that?"



Dante is suddenly the cowering fool again. He clings to my arm and the fluid from his open sores stains my white shirt. "It is our death, my lady. There is still time to turn back. Before his thralls come for us in the black of night."



"Who are his thralls?"



Dante speaks in a frightened whisper. "Men who have no hearts, and yet still live. I swear to you I have seen these creatures. They see without eyes and have no need to breathe fresh air."



"How many men does Landulf have at his com­mand?"



Dante is animated. "You don't understand, my lady. His power is not in strength of arms. Had he not one man, he could still hold off the full might of Rome, and the Moslems for that matter. Even they fear him."



I grip Dante's shoulders. "Tell me how many men he has under his command. Even an estimate will help me."



Dante is having trouble catching his breath. "I never counted them. It must be several hundred."



"Two hundred? Eight hundred?"



Dante coughs. "Maybe five hundred. But they are not important. It is the spirits that haunt this land that will kill us. They are in the trees, the rocks—he sends them out to spy on those who dare to challenge him. He must already know we are here. We have to go back!"



I am gentle, but I do hold his eye. "Dante, my friend, you have done me a great service. I know you didn't want to come here but you have. And I know it was out of love and respect for me. But now you have repaid your debt to me. You are free to return the way you have come. I want you to return to Messina, and save yourself. There is no need for you to go any farther along this road."



To my surprise, my power over him is outweighed by his love for me. He shakes his head and pleads with me. "You do not know what he will do to you. He has powers you cannot imagine. A lust for cruelty and pain that cannot be spoken. He rips the eyes from his victims and stores them in jars to later feed to caged rats he keeps in his personal quarters. He pulls the bones from slaves before their very eyes and munches on them at gruesome suppers. All this he does to set the stage for his satanic invocations. But when the spirits come, there is nowhere to hide." Dante weeps and grips my arm fiercely. "Please don't go there, my lady! In God's holy name I beg you!"