Bathory's Secret: When All The Time In The World Is Not Enough (Affliction Vampires Book 1) by Romina Nicolaides
Authors: Romina Nicolaides
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could feel the sun rise and set and occasionally I would collapse from exhaustion and wake up unaware of how much time had passed. Eventually the horse was stopped and I was lifted from it and thrown on the ground. My entire body ached from the singular position I had been kept in for the past several days and from the starvation. My captor did not free me but cut a hole in the wrappings to release my head so I could see. I felt like a swaddled baby. It was late afternoon and though it was almost dark my eyes burnt from the little bit of light that remained after having been blindfolded for so long.
My abductor was an unafflicted man who appeared to be in his fourth decade but could have been older. He had long dreadlocked black hair, an equally long and black beard and was dressed in colorful stripy but dirty pantaloons and a loose-fitting shirt. His face was tanned and well worn with deep wrinkles above his cheeks which arched to meet his eyes. He wore a large collection of talismans and coins round his neck and he stank of wine. For a long while he just looked at me without saying anything.
“I’m amazed how you new creatures have no idea how much of a trail you are leaving behind when you eat.” He stressed the word new in a mocking fashion, but I didn’t understand why. “You think you are going to live forever and that no one is ever going to stop you. Your arrogance eventually becomes the key to your undoing. Esteban here and I have been tracking you for years. We did lose you from time to time, but your trail was unmistakable when we came upon it again. He says he could smell the odor of death around you for miles.” His voice was gritty and even though he had a twist of an accent he spoke in the language of Balgadartsi. Over the years I had learned it, partly from the memories of the people I had drunk, and partly from the eavesdropped conversations.
I looked behind him and saw a creature I had not realized had been with us all this time. Esteban was small and slender. He was a child and though his face was malformed I could recognize from his pallor that he was most definitely Afflicted as he was three tones paler than I. He was hunchbacked and this made his arms look longer than average as they neared the ground. He had almost no hair on his head, and quite unusually for his peculiar shape he was a light walker. He stood downwind from people, to ensure that no one caught his scent and was clearly a first class stalker.
“You like Esteban? He’s a hideous little thing but an excellent hunter, I’d be lost without him,” the bearded man continued to talk oblivious to the fact that Esteban might hear him. Possibly registering my curiosity he gestured to his ear, “don’t worry he can’t hear me, he’s deaf as a door.”
It was true that Esteban was quite horrific but there was a loyalty about him and his eyes hid pain under his distorted brow. I wondered what made him so faithful to the man that treated him no better than a dog and who used him to track down people of his own kind. Hideous as he was I was intrigued to see another Afflicted person like me. Other than the one who’d bitten me all those years ago I had never encountered one and often wondered where he had come from and whether I was alone, a natural aberration. It was clear, however, that Esteban would not tell me much.
The bearded one did not wait for me to say anything. He gave me a small flask of blood to drink and covered my head again before returning me to my horse to continue our journey. He seemed to know exactly how many days an Afflicted could safely go without blood, a clear sign of his long hunting experience. After some more days of travel we arrived at a location and I could sense commotion and hear voices. I heard the bearded one speak with someone else in a foreign tongue followed by the clatter of coins. I was picked up and placed flat on the ground alongside other similar shapes all laid out in a row. My head
My abductor was an unafflicted man who appeared to be in his fourth decade but could have been older. He had long dreadlocked black hair, an equally long and black beard and was dressed in colorful stripy but dirty pantaloons and a loose-fitting shirt. His face was tanned and well worn with deep wrinkles above his cheeks which arched to meet his eyes. He wore a large collection of talismans and coins round his neck and he stank of wine. For a long while he just looked at me without saying anything.
“I’m amazed how you new creatures have no idea how much of a trail you are leaving behind when you eat.” He stressed the word new in a mocking fashion, but I didn’t understand why. “You think you are going to live forever and that no one is ever going to stop you. Your arrogance eventually becomes the key to your undoing. Esteban here and I have been tracking you for years. We did lose you from time to time, but your trail was unmistakable when we came upon it again. He says he could smell the odor of death around you for miles.” His voice was gritty and even though he had a twist of an accent he spoke in the language of Balgadartsi. Over the years I had learned it, partly from the memories of the people I had drunk, and partly from the eavesdropped conversations.
I looked behind him and saw a creature I had not realized had been with us all this time. Esteban was small and slender. He was a child and though his face was malformed I could recognize from his pallor that he was most definitely Afflicted as he was three tones paler than I. He was hunchbacked and this made his arms look longer than average as they neared the ground. He had almost no hair on his head, and quite unusually for his peculiar shape he was a light walker. He stood downwind from people, to ensure that no one caught his scent and was clearly a first class stalker.
“You like Esteban? He’s a hideous little thing but an excellent hunter, I’d be lost without him,” the bearded man continued to talk oblivious to the fact that Esteban might hear him. Possibly registering my curiosity he gestured to his ear, “don’t worry he can’t hear me, he’s deaf as a door.”
It was true that Esteban was quite horrific but there was a loyalty about him and his eyes hid pain under his distorted brow. I wondered what made him so faithful to the man that treated him no better than a dog and who used him to track down people of his own kind. Hideous as he was I was intrigued to see another Afflicted person like me. Other than the one who’d bitten me all those years ago I had never encountered one and often wondered where he had come from and whether I was alone, a natural aberration. It was clear, however, that Esteban would not tell me much.
The bearded one did not wait for me to say anything. He gave me a small flask of blood to drink and covered my head again before returning me to my horse to continue our journey. He seemed to know exactly how many days an Afflicted could safely go without blood, a clear sign of his long hunting experience. After some more days of travel we arrived at a location and I could sense commotion and hear voices. I heard the bearded one speak with someone else in a foreign tongue followed by the clatter of coins. I was picked up and placed flat on the ground alongside other similar shapes all laid out in a row. My head
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