As he went out of the building he noticed that the rain stopped. Outside, near that neat building, there were some police officers busy with evidence loading into their carriages.
He walked away from those officers and looked around as if he searched for someone. He couldn’t see anyone, but he heard a voice:
“Here I am, my count ...”
Vlad Dragoesti turned his head and even behind him, he saw the person he looked for and who popped up out of the blue. His face was covered, probably to protect it against the cold. But he still seeme to have something to hide.
“Come on! We are leaving,” said Mr. Vlad as he made a sign with the staff to the carriage in which he came.
The carriage moved closer. The two got in and sat on the bench in the posh carriage, drawn by two horses that were equally high-class and stunning.
The man with covered face asked:
“Master, how about the child? He might mess with us at some point and ...”
“It’s a girl”, Vlad Dragoesti replied crossly.
“So ... that won't be a problem. Or...?”
“A minor problem ... insignificant compared to the problem represented by her parents”, smiled Vlad Dragoesti.
The covered-face guy got comfortable on the bench where even a king would be proud to sit. Moving, the scarf that covered his face slid a little and one could see from the blurred light of the lantern hanging by the carriage that he had extremely white face, with a skin that never saw the sunlight. It seemed to be ... the face in Gangsley Taylor’ vision. Or ... maybe it wasn’t a vision.
The skin seemed to be extremely delicate, like that of a newborn. Without any wrinkle, without any trace of a possible malady, without being affected by the passage of time.
He spoke in a slightly hoarse voice, the voice of a man who went through a lot in his life, a man with life experience. The bottom lip, because it was the only visible under the scarf, was as red as blood.
“Take us back where you took us from”, Vlad Dragoesti ordered the coachman.
And the carriage rushed away.
“Why have you come?” Dragoesti said with a cold glance.
“I don't know ... probably because you may have problems”, said the cover-faced guy. “There were so many law enforcement officers there ...”
“It’s a piece of cake with the officers ... moreover, some of them are as dark as we are.”
The stranger shrugged his shoulders.
“I don't know ... I felt you were in danger.”
The Count glanced outside through a small opening at the window, where the curtains were set aside.
“Of course it makes sense that you’re here. Probably Edward’s death ... His absence is a great loss to the other side. But, I don't know ... I felt a much greater pressure on me now. Much bigger than I did when our dark guys died.”
“Maybe because of the child?” the secretive guy raised his eyebrows.
“That's what I thought too. Yet, it’s a girl. There must be something else ...”
He looked again out of window. He was very calm, but inside everything was about to erupt, to explode with the power of a cataclysm.
“Anyway ... that story says that ‘he will bring us a gift ... that will bring the end of the dark age ...’”
“These are just assumptions. I think it will never happen. That era ... maybe it already started. Still, it can't be because of this little girl. The killing of Edwards was painful for our group as well. Scar, Screamer, Shrew and Skeleton are gone. They were killed without too much trouble, although they were leaders in our group. That's why I felt that pressure for sure. I can say we were lucky... for we managed to kill them.”
“Yes ... huge losses for our cause. Almost as big as the Edwards’ for them. There is still ... Knudlac. Surely he and his ‘little’ wizards can cause us problems.”
“You have no idea ... especially him.”
The cover-faced guy looked out, in that darkness, as if he could see in that thick blackness, ocean-bottom like.
“I have to get off, master. I'm going to have ... dinner,” the hidden guy smiled.
He stuck his head out of the carriage window.
“Stop the carriage!” he said to the coachman.
Dragoesti smiled.
“Here… ?” the coachman asked, puzzled, as they were on a dark path in the forest. Only the round disk of the moon kept shining here in the shade of that frightening forest. And the dim light of the lantern hanging on the ravishing carriage.
“Yes”, Dragoesti ordered too. “He has to ... eat ...”
The coachman was very anxious that he had to leave someone on that path of perdition. But ... he was scared of both the cover-faced foreigner and the famous and cruel Vlad Dragoesti.
So he did exactly as he was ordered.
The stranger got off the carriage and moved away on that unknown path. Finally, just before he was gone, he glanced back at the frightened coachman. Two glassy eyes like two stars in the sky, which seemed come down into that forest, targeted the coachman ... along with a bloodcurdling grin.
With a lump in his throat, because he heard so many strange, mysterious things about the castle and the lands of Dragoesti residence, his heart cracking with panic because of those eyes that watched him, the coachman whipped the horses to start off rushing without waiting for Count Dragoesti's order.
He was severely shaken when the carriage started, but instead of being upset, he smiled. He knew something ... scared the poor coachman. And this enjoyed him a lot, because others’ fear ... was food for guys like him.
...
In front of the house at number 3 Moon Street, one could see Officer Gangsley carrying a small girl and a little bag in his arms. Apparently her stuff was in that bag that was not roomy at all.
The little girl was holding a diary ... A diary that Officer Gangsley decided to give to her, because it once belonged to her parents. He considered the diary a gift from those who gave life to the girl, an object that only she, alone in this world, had the right to keep. Because it was written on it in golden letters:
“... a small gift, for our most precious gift, Elizabeth Catherine Edwards.”
It was a starry, bright sky, unexpected to see in central London. We all know there are billions of stars on the stellar sky ... but that night they seemed to be at least twice as many. There was almost no need for street lamps or moonlight. The moon looked like a big carriage lazing in the sky trying to throw her weight around the little stars.It was so nice outside, even though it was so cold, that anyone lying on the roof of the orphanage “Angel’s hand”, did not regret that light show in the sky.“It's wonderful ...” the silence was broken by a crystalline voice of a little girl. It was Elizabeth Catherine Edwards, who was to celebrate the fine and wonderful age of nine.Yet, her face could not be seen, because it was completely covered just like a Bedouin’s in the desert, covered in thick, old blankets from head to toe because of the biting cold outside.“Yes ... and you didn't want to come up here. It'
It was the shadow of the person who followed the two girls as they were lying on the roof of the orphanage lost in their thoughts of the constellations.A shadow projected by a body covered with a black cape, under which only the ends of a dress could be seen and under the hood of which a large, snub nose, full of warts stuck out.The person hiding under that cape so that no one could discover who she was started to move down that narrow corridor. Two people next to each other could hardly be able to go through.That person stopped softly at every door, listening to check if there was any noise from the rooms where the children slept.She lingered some more time by the door of the bedroom where Elizabeth and Dorothy slept. As she did not hear anything, she opened the door very slowly, as it used to make strange noises when opened and stuck her odious and monstrous nose into the room, as if she sniffed around.The truth is that eyes couldn’t h
“If it were poisonous, something should happen to me so far as she keeps beating me pretty often ...”Elizabeth laughed when she saw her friend’s fearful look.“Clark told me this. I found it interesting and I wanted to share it with you. You almost believed me,” the girl smiled working hard to sweep the floor.“That’s not true.”The girls giggled together, enjoying each other as if they were not two orphaned children, but two happy sisters.“Miss Blackwood is coming!” yelled a small boy, as thin as a stick.Suddenly, the corridors of the orphanage were filled with children, who would become like little worker bees when the queen bee came to visit.Some of the children wiped the floor with some damp cloth where Dorothy and Elizabeth just swept the area. Other children made their beds again – they do it several times a day to prevent being reprimanded for not doing anyth
Some girls, about thirteen years old, gathered in a bedroom by one bed, although time to sleep was announced by Miss Blackwood’s yells and screams more than fifteen minutes ago.The children gathered around Elizabeth's bed. The bed where she would sleep for the first time without Dorothy, her best friend.The blonde girl, unable to sleep, kept herself busy with a thing she used to do most of the time when she felt restless.She organized some stuff in that bed. There was a narrow, pinched pot on the bed, its upper part being covered with a canvas that had some small figures cut into it. The bottom of that old and parched pot was completely missing, and on one side it had a bigger crack. At the bottom the pot had a piece of a blurred and broken mirror, with the mirror facing the upper part. There were some more pieces of mirror on the windowsill and on a small almost damaged nightstand. The one on the cold sill faced the dusty window, and the one on the nig
It's been more than two weeks since Dorothy Miller left the orphanage, but it seemed to Elizabeth that a human lifespan passed since then. She still did not get used to the thought that she would never see again the one who was always with her. That’s why, she seemed to see her every day sitting at the table where they usually ate, waiting for her in their room, or going down the stairs ... Not once did she run after her, grabbed her by hand, took her in her arms and held her tight and ... and only then did she see that it wasn't Dorothy Miller, but another girl. Every time it was like this ... Could it be anything harder than losing the last person who really cared about you? The only family you ever had ... when you were meant to not have no family ... … “Hello,” an elegantly dressed gentleman, wearing a long black coat to his knees over an expensive suit, with lacquered leather shoes, as only a lord could wear greeted respectfully. Th
“That's right, Mr. Green. You are perfectly right, sir ...” Mr. Green put his hand in a pocket of the overcoat and held out a plentiful purse for Harp. “I know I can’t reward the work you carried out in twenty years with these ...little devils. Consider it a small payment from Miss Elizabeth Edwards. From the work she will do, dear Mr. Harp. I'll get my money back from her work. Mr. Harp was the happiest man on Earth at that time. “I apologize, Mr. Green for having the courage to believe that the little miss’s life will not be as it should be with you. If I think better, you are more than adequate to correct and guide her in life. It is clear that you know very well that work ennobles man. “The harder it is, the more it ennobles us,” Mr. Green added sniggering. “That’s right, but you must also consider that these children must be educated as well through ...” Yet, Mr. Harp failed to finish the sentence. The boy John
“Catherine Edwards?!” Miss Blackwood ran down the corridors of the orphanage, with the reminder to limp from time to time when she met a small group of frightened children in her way. “Elizabeth, where are you, little bitch?!” As usual, the old lady fiercely looked for her... to make poor girl’s life even more miserable. The woman kept screaming. “Catherine Edwards ?!” She entered each tiny room, each dormitory stuffed with furniture and old closets. Some of those closets had no doors because they were eaten by bugs. She hit them with her crutch. The old lady saw a lot of children washing the floor blackened in time, not because of the dirt, but because the children used to polish it daily. That floor with traps here and there with rotten or broken planks. “Kid, where's Elizabeth Edwards?” The boy, about seven, carried a bucket full of water almost heavier than he was. He stopped near the old hag. “I don't
It was that kind of noon when even though the sun was in the sky for some time, in the shade of the trees it was quite cool. Even so, the scenery was so pleasant that you could sit carried away in those waves of greenery, listening to the birds’ spring songs.Next to a hidden forest path, where someone right in the head would not stop, there was a carriage. The horses were tired and hungry. They ate grass with gusto, like a wolf devouring its prey. It was clear they had come a long and difficult way.A man and two children got off the carriage. The man, Mr. Benjamin Green, paid the coachman for the trip and thanked him. Then he beckoned to the two children to follow him.Elizabeth’s heart was pounding with fear because she didn't know what was to happen next. Only when she saw the little boy Johnny smiling and winking at her, she recovered her courage and calmed down.How come this little boy who was hit so badly and probably that happened eve