Blood Harvest Read online

  “Count Diemo, this Sweating Sickness has traveled to France and Spain as you have said and your presence has been requested by both countries to assist their physicians in an effort to stem the tide of the disease. My King Ferdinand has already petitioned Henry VIII of England to have you taken directly to Spain.” With that the Inquisitor produced a parchment from his belt and held it out to Alphonso.

  “I would assume these are the King’s commands for me to travel to Spain with you?”

  “Something like that.”

  As Alphonso looked down to the parchment and read the words written across the page he didn’t notice that the guards had quietly moved from their positions around the Inquisitor in order to block the path in both accessible directions.

  Then shock and disbelief registered on Alphonso’s face as he read. “This…this cannot be right! This is an arrest warrant!”

  Suddenly the guards to the rear grabbed Alphonso’s arms and held him fast while the remaining two drew their swords and placed the tips at his throat. The Inquisitor sauntered around his men to face Alphonso.

  “Corrupt heathen, did you think that it would go unnoticed that of all those physicians employed to treat the disease only you survived? The Holy Father in Rome and King Ferdinand agree that this plague has been set upon us by Lucifer to strike down God’s most devout. Clearly you and all of those in your household are in league with the Dark Lord for you to have survived. Well your reign has ended demon, for you and your lot. Even now the faithful are moving en masse to your doorstep to purge your presence from their city.”

  The Inquisitor inclined his head in the direction of Alphonso’s home where an orange glow from multiple torches burned an incandescent aura in the night sky. Alphonso felt the sword tips lower from his neck as the Inquisitor moved in even more closely. He was about to say something when he felt an explosion in his chest.

  The Inquisitor sneered as he felt his dagger slide between Alphonso’s ribs. “I was supposed to arrest all of you and put you on trial in Barcelona, but I think we both know what your fate will be once we reach Spain. I would prefer to keep the gold which would have needed to be spent in order to feed you and yours on the voyage home.”

  The guards released Alphonso’s arms and allowed his body to fall to the road in a lifeless heap.

  Chapter 2

  “I cannot allow you to enter as the Master is not at home.” William’s voice was hard as he faced down the mob that had gathered suddenly outside the house. Almost one hundred of the Inquisitor’s followers had arrived at the doorstep a few moments prior and appeared as though they might force their way in until William had suddenly swung the front door open and placed his enormous frame in between the entrance and the people outside. William knew no one was going to want to be the first to rush at him and he used the intimidation to momentarily stifle the hostility. He also knew it wouldn’t last, but it might give him a few moments to evacuate the staff. “Now I would thank you to leave us to our work. We have many suffering….”

  The closest and most vocal of the mob stepped forward and spoke commandingly to William: “You will grant us entrance to this residence immediately or we shall force our way in and burn the building down around you.”

  William hesitated, looking out on all of the faces that stood before him, many of whom had previously received treatment and been healed by Master Diemo. The betrayal from such previous “friends” was heartbreaking and all William could do was shake his head in disgust.

  He looked the speaker right in the eyes. “Give me a moment and I will give you what you ask.”

  The speaker tried to respond, but William shut the door in the man’s face. Quickly, William moved to a fireplace, picked up a hatchet from a block and made his way into the cellar. The barrels lined neatly across the floor contained a combination of oil of roses and turpentine. William knew that, if this mixture was combined in the right proportion with fresh egg yolks, then an incredibly effective healing poultice for open wounds would be created.

  William also knew that in its current state the mixture was highly flammable. Moving to the barrel closest to the door he swung the hatchet in a wide arc, shattering the wood at its midpoint. Spray exploded from the rupture and saturated everything in the room as the mixture gushed from the broken slats of the barrel. He then proceeded back up the stairs to the parlor where other staff members tended the sick. William beckoned one nurse over and spoke in whispers.

  “How many patients are still alive?”

  “Of the eight we were trying to save only three remain and I don’t think they will last more than a few hours.”

  “Is there any chance of saving them?”

  “You know how lethal the sickness has been this time around. No, I fear they will be gone before long.”

  William nodded. “What I am about to ask of you, it may seem contrary to what we have always practiced. However, I believe it is the only solution open to us if we are to survive this night.”

  When William told the woman what he had planned the woman’s face lost all of its color.

  “But…but how will any of us survive?”

  “There are horses waiting at the livery, use the back stairs and escape with the rest of the staff. Make your way to the Dover house and gather all you can. Hopefully the Master will see my signal and be warned away. He will make his way to Dover as well. That has always been the plan should we ever find ourselves in such a dire situation.”

  Tears began to well in the woman’s eyes. “And you?”

  “I will be close behind you, of course.”

  The woman knew full well it was a lie, but she agreed all the same. Quickly she gathered the other members of the staff and each of them sprinted to their rooms to collect whatever items were necessary for the journey to Dover.

  William made his way upstairs to the room where Abigail was tending to the young woman with the special needs. The young girl was now sitting upright with Abigail, who was holding a large chalice and helping the young woman drink the contents. Abigail looked up from what she was doing to see William watching her. Then the smell of the turpentine struck her nostrils and her eyes went wide.

  William asked, “Is she able to travel?”

  “Not even close, you’ll have to carry her.”

  “No Abigail, I need to distract the crowd outside and draw them away from the rear of the building so you and the others can escape unmolested.”

  Abigail shook her head. “I will distract them, your strength is needed to get them all away safely.” “Abi-”

  “I’ll hear no more of it. Go make the final arrangements.”

  William knew it was pointless to argue with Abigail when she was like this. He decided to go as she requested, but when he returned he would “strong arm” Abigail out with the rest of the staff and lock the door behind her.

  He ran back down to the first floor and grabbed a mop before he started back toward the cellar. Along the way William saw the thirty or so staff members hurrying to the rear exit with small bags filled to capacity with personal items. Each looked to him beseechingly before continuing to the rear of the building. William smiled as each sad glance reminded him he was part of a family brought together by Master Diemo over all of the years. He knew what he would do to anyone who would try to bring harm upon this family.

  William saw one of the women holding a small bundle in her arm. He took one shaky step toward her. Gently William’s huge hand pulled one of the linens off the bundle and he stared at a soundly sleeping infant looking as content as if nothing in the world mattered more than the thumb he silently suckled. William’s hand was nearly twice the size of the infant’s head; it trembled as he stroked the baby’s downy hair and felt the warmth of the softest skin he had ever touched. “See to it that everyone is ready. We will only have one chance at this.”

  The woman nodded as William forced himself to turn away and descend the cellar stairs where he submerged the mop into the several inches of turpent
ine that had flooded the floor, He then backed his way up the steps leaving a wet trail as he climbed. The oil of roses combined with the turpentine prevented the trail from drying out as William continued to mop the slick all the way up the stairs and into the parlor where, to his horror, he saw the front door wide open. Dropping the mop he scanned the house to see the three remaining living patients being carried out by some of the mob that had formed outside. William could easily have stopped them but he was actually relieved to have them out of the building.

  Apparently, the Inquisitor and his guards had returned and hadn’t waited to rush the door. William couldn’t see any sign of the Master, but he couldn’t waste time wondering as the sounds of angry voices echoed from the highest point of the stairwell. He knew it was coming from outside the room where Abigail had been tending the girl.

  “Oh, bloody hell!” William cursed, knowing he only had a few moments before the entire mob would work their way into the building. He ran back to the rear exit to see the rest of the staff by the door waiting for a signal that it was clear for them to escape.

  “It should be clear. GO!!!” William hissed and the staff burst through the door and into the night without anyone seeing them or accosting them in any way. He had gotten them all out safely. Now there was only one thing left to do. William ran to the parlor and picked up a flint stone and striker off of the table where he had left it and, careful not to ignite his sodden clothes, sent sparks into a bed sheet saturated with the turpentine and oil mixture. The sheet immediately ignited and William hurled it at the wet streak he had created with the mop earlier. He watched the fire travel along the path and into the area by the cellar. William indulged himself with one more look around the building which had been his home for so many years. Then he turned and walked toward the front door. A loud “whomp” echoed as the flames ignited the pool of turpentine and oil in the cellar.

  Chapter 3

  “Here!” one of the guards called out. “This door is locked and I can hear voices inside.”

  “Force the door!” The Inquisitor called back. “We have God’s work to do this evening!” But when the guards opened the door they were met by the countenance of the girl, looking gaunt and eyes bulging with blood from the chalice encircling the sides of her mouth and wetly staining the front of her dress.

  “Mother of Christ!!!” The Inquisitor screamed as the four guards drew their swords. Then the Inquisitor screamed the word that had followed Alphonso Diemo and all of his staff members for the entirety of their lives.

  “VAMPIRE!!!”

  Abigail spun toward them as they entered, dropping the chalice holding the collected blood that the girl had been drinking, and stood defiantly between the girl and the armed guards.

  The Inquisitor completely lost his nerve in that moment. “Kill them! Kill the vampire and the whore who protects it!”

  The guards charged, eyes wild with fear and hatred, but Abigail had been brought up on the streets and was no helpless victim. The first guard never saw the blade she withdrew from beneath her clothes; Abigail opened the man’s throat with a single cut as she side-stepped his charge. The dying guard panicked and blocked the other guard’s path as he flailed about, hands at his throat trying to staunch the flow of his life’s blood.

  Abigail then stepped up to the bed and bounced, launching herself at the Inquisitor shrieking as she sailed through the air. Not being a warrior himself the Inquisitor screamed and covered his face at the sight of her literally flying at him. Before Abigail could reach him one of the guards had stepped in between them and caught her in mid-air. The guard slammed her to the ground but Abigail tensed as she hit and countered by placing her foot on the man’s chest. With a mighty heave of her leg she flung the man back and righted herself in a crouch, turning her face back to the Inquisitor.

  “Mary, Mother of God!” The Inquisitor shrieked and Abigail nearly burst out laughing as the pompous fool held out a cross in front of him, as if it would offer any protection from her wrath. Abigail smiled at the sight of the extreme fear in the eyes of the Inquisitor. The girl began shrieking behind her and Abigail spun to see a guard run a sword through her chest. The scream Abigail let out was so bloodcurdling everyone in the room recoiled at the sound. Forgetting the Inquisitor, Abigail charged at the guard who had struck down the girl, driving him back toward a window. The two slammed into the wooden shutter, which gave way under their combined weight; they fell through, plummeting twenty feet to the ground below. Initially, the stunned mob crowded close to the two writhing bodies on the ground, but all staggered back as the guard began bellowing in pain, grabbing at his right leg which was bent in a way it was not supposed to bend. Abigail, who had landed more on the guard than on the ground, recovered and scrambled on top of the helpless guard while brandishing her dagger overhead. Shrieking, she stabbed the man repeatedly with such violent intent that the entire mob cowered at the sight and sound.

  “Seize her!!!” The Inquisitor appeared in the ruined window above and screamed panicked orders to the mob below.

  Hesitantly, a few men began to move toward Abigail but she noticed their advances and began hacking and slashing wildly at the incomers. Abigail drew blood on the first few although she was soon overwhelmed by the numbers as more of the mob swarmed in upon her and held her fast. She kicked and thrashed and tried to bite anything that passed over her face, attempting to break free of the multiple hands holding her. The faces of the crowd were a mixture of hatred and anger. She couldn’t see that the majority of the onlookers had expressions of uncertainty and, in some cases, outright revulsion at what was happening. Unfortunately, it would have also been apparent these people were not going to come to her rescue; they backed away as the Inquisitor and his two remaining guards exited the building and stomped toward her with swords drawn.

  Abigail flailed and kicked as strong hands tried to hold her down while the head Inquisitor shouted something while holding a small crucifix in one hand inches from her face and his rapier sword in the other. With a final resonant “Amen” the Inquisitor thrust with his sword arm and Abigail felt a searing hot flash of pain as the slender rapier blade passed through her side. The blade was exquisitely sharp and she felt no resistance by her flesh as the cold steel entered her and was then pulled free. The pain and fear of being stabbed caused her to surge with all her effort and she managed to free one hand, grasping out desperately for anything solid.

  Abigail was surprised as her hand closed around the hilt of a small dagger that had been attached to the belt of one of the men trying to restrain her. She pulled the knife from its sheath and plunged the blade into the nearest body. A man screamed and Abigail felt her other arm come free. She swung the dagger in front of her toward the Inquisitor but felt the blade slice only air. Again she felt the white-hot pain of the rapier’s point enter her in the fleshy part between her shoulder and neck. Again the wound did not strike anything that would be instantly mortal and Abigail grabbed the base of the weapon with her free hand and drove the dagger forward toward the man wielding it.

  The Inquisitor saw the attack coming and abandoned his weapon to stay out of reach of the knife Abigail guided. Most of the mob had moved back to a safe distance at this point and as the Inquisitor tried to do the same his feet became tangled beneath him and he tumbled to the ground only a few feet from the demon woman who approached him.

  Abigail knew she was losing blood quickly and she used the pain she felt to keep her going. Sliding the rapier out of her shoulder was excruciating, but the pain also gave her clarity as she stalked toward the Inquisitor with murder in her eyes.

  She was about to drive the blade home when another of his guard stepped in front of her and thrust the point of his rapier at her chest. With uncanny ease Abigail spun her dagger up and parried the thrust to one side of her body then thrust the Inquisitor’s rapier, which had only moments ago been lodged in her shoulder, into the heart of the guard, killing him instantly.

  The Inquisitor
let out a whimper as he watched another of his guard fall and let out a high shrill scream when Abigail turned her attention back in his direction.

  “Stop her!!! Force her down!!!” The Inquisitor was screaming to the mob, but no one moved as Abigail began taking pained and tremulous steps toward the begging man. Abigail could feel the strength draining from her with every step she took. She knew she wasn’t long for life, but before she closed her eyes for the last time Abigail would will herself to get her revenge on this murderer begging so pathetically before her eyes.

  All at once she stood over him as the Inquisitor wept and covered his eyes. Abigail raised the rapier back for a final killing thrust before she felt a tremendous force explode in her back. She was suddenly struck by an overload of pain followed by…nothing. She watched the world move in slow motion as she felt herself fall and land painlessly on the grass of the front yard. All the pain had left her body, as did all fatigue, all worry and then all life as Abigail felt herself drifting as if she were being carried up and away on a cloud in a dream.

  Chapter 4

  Confusion overwhelmed fear as the Inquisitor got to his feet and moved to see what could have fallen this…this…beast in the guise of a woman when cold steel seemed to have no effect on her. He cautiously approached the body and saw that a jagged slat of the window shutter had been thrust through her back in precisely the location where her heart would lie. Next to the body the last of his guard lay, breathing heavily and holding another of the wooden slats that had broken into jagged points.

  “The wood pierced her heart and killed her instantly,” the Inquisitor said aloud. The man was about to say a prayer when a scream from the crowd directed everyone’s attention back to the building, which was now becoming engulfed in flames. A lone, large man stood in silhouette by the front door with both of his hands pressed into fists and trembling with rage at the site before him.