Then there was Caesare. My mind stumbled again. Confusion at my altered state led me to wonder if my brother too possessed the same strength and speed that I did. I remembered all too well how his teeth had grown into catlike fangs as mine had. The changes wrought were definitely down to him. A new horror gripped me. He knew I’d change, become the same as him, and he could keep me; torture me, for all eternity. Because how can the dead die?
My mind was blank as I watched like a voyeur as Druda left the cottage once more and continued with her chores. How simple and uncomplicated her life was compared to mine. Filled with wealth and privilege, my world had for the most part been a silent hell. I’d have given anything in that moment to be this girl. To take over her life and live it in comparative freedom. The thought idled in my brain briefly. But no, this was still too close to my home. It would be so easy for Caesare to find me.
A candle flame burned in the back of my brain, igniting the realisation that I now had an abundance of freedom. Caesare may have only just learned of my flight. He was the only person who could possibly find me. I leapt to my feet as Druda left the yard on her way once more to the river. Rushing forward I yanked the damp clothing from the line and ran.
Deep into the forest I stopped once more to clothe myself, wrapping a shawl around my head to hide the abundance of beautiful hair that shone over my shoulders. I dirtied my hands and face again. I looked down at my discarded robe. I had to destroy it, or at least bury it. It would be too obvious a clue to my brother who had hunted all his life. Looking around I could see no obvious place to dispose of the garment so I rolled it up and tucked it carefully under my arm. The silk was so dirty and stained now that it looked like nothing more that some peasant rag. Finally satisfied, I stepped out onto the road, like a harmless peasant travelling to market.
After walking briskly for a mile or two I observed the emptiness of the road and gathered speed, running full pelt towards the next small village. Here I would move among the peasants to see if any rumours had spread of Lena’s murder. I realised that I had now put many miles between my home and myself. It was unlikely that anyone would be looking for me this far away. However, Caesare’s name floated through my head. My brother had gone to extreme lengths to own me. I had to remain alert. After all I didn’t know what he was capable of.
Having run the last ten miles on the darkening road, weaving in and out of the trees as the road traffic thickened, I reached the outskirts of the town at nightfall. It was a place called Tramonti. I knew by some bizarre new instinct that I was south of Rome. It was a small village with very little to offer other than a tiny community.
I entered under cover of darkness. It was evident that it would be impossible for me to remain anonymous here. The town was too small and the villagers all knew each other well. It was obvious that my presence would attract too much attention so I quickly hid myself in the shadows, listening at doorways.
‘My cousin doesn’t make up stories, Tita.’
The peasant’s loud voice echoed through the open shutter and I was drawn to the hatch to listen.
‘You come from the tavern and you tell me tall tales told to children to make them behave! Your cousin drinks too much and has too vivid an imagination.’
‘No, no. I tell you...’
‘Yes, you tell me a monster roams and eats young girls. There are many monsters in this world but certainly it is not a Duchess turned into a revenant. Go to bed, Ernesto. I will not listen to this drunken nonsense any more this evening.’
Even this far, news of Lena’s murder was filtering through. I knew I had to leave immediately, move onto another town still farther away. Ultimately I needed to lose myself in the bigger cities. An image of the Vatican flared up behind my eyes like a
My mind was blank as I watched like a voyeur as Druda left the cottage once more and continued with her chores. How simple and uncomplicated her life was compared to mine. Filled with wealth and privilege, my world had for the most part been a silent hell. I’d have given anything in that moment to be this girl. To take over her life and live it in comparative freedom. The thought idled in my brain briefly. But no, this was still too close to my home. It would be so easy for Caesare to find me.
A candle flame burned in the back of my brain, igniting the realisation that I now had an abundance of freedom. Caesare may have only just learned of my flight. He was the only person who could possibly find me. I leapt to my feet as Druda left the yard on her way once more to the river. Rushing forward I yanked the damp clothing from the line and ran.
Deep into the forest I stopped once more to clothe myself, wrapping a shawl around my head to hide the abundance of beautiful hair that shone over my shoulders. I dirtied my hands and face again. I looked down at my discarded robe. I had to destroy it, or at least bury it. It would be too obvious a clue to my brother who had hunted all his life. Looking around I could see no obvious place to dispose of the garment so I rolled it up and tucked it carefully under my arm. The silk was so dirty and stained now that it looked like nothing more that some peasant rag. Finally satisfied, I stepped out onto the road, like a harmless peasant travelling to market.
After walking briskly for a mile or two I observed the emptiness of the road and gathered speed, running full pelt towards the next small village. Here I would move among the peasants to see if any rumours had spread of Lena’s murder. I realised that I had now put many miles between my home and myself. It was unlikely that anyone would be looking for me this far away. However, Caesare’s name floated through my head. My brother had gone to extreme lengths to own me. I had to remain alert. After all I didn’t know what he was capable of.
Having run the last ten miles on the darkening road, weaving in and out of the trees as the road traffic thickened, I reached the outskirts of the town at nightfall. It was a place called Tramonti. I knew by some bizarre new instinct that I was south of Rome. It was a small village with very little to offer other than a tiny community.
I entered under cover of darkness. It was evident that it would be impossible for me to remain anonymous here. The town was too small and the villagers all knew each other well. It was obvious that my presence would attract too much attention so I quickly hid myself in the shadows, listening at doorways.
‘My cousin doesn’t make up stories, Tita.’
The peasant’s loud voice echoed through the open shutter and I was drawn to the hatch to listen.
‘You come from the tavern and you tell me tall tales told to children to make them behave! Your cousin drinks too much and has too vivid an imagination.’
‘No, no. I tell you...’
‘Yes, you tell me a monster roams and eats young girls. There are many monsters in this world but certainly it is not a Duchess turned into a revenant. Go to bed, Ernesto. I will not listen to this drunken nonsense any more this evening.’
Even this far, news of Lena’s murder was filtering through. I knew I had to leave immediately, move onto another town still farther away. Ultimately I needed to lose myself in the bigger cities. An image of the Vatican flared up behind my eyes like a
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