SNAP: The World Unfolds

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Blood has always been a food,” the Baron began.  “There are many, many organisms that live off blood sucked from a host. Much of the endemic diseases in humans have evolved because of bloodsuckers.  Tse tse flies, mosquitoes, internal parasites, bed bugs, lice, fleas.  Many of those suck blood from animals as well, and the transmission of diseases is well-documented.  What isn’t documented is the transmission of the act of feeding itself.”

Toward the end of the first pandemic outbreak of the plague in the 14th century, a tale began about cattle and other domestic animals found dead with all their blood drained.  Famers kept watch and some saw shadowy things circling around the downed animals.  The stories began about witches and demons until one particularly keen-eyed farmer spotted a bat swooping around the corpse.  This story spread through the region that would become the Austro-Hungarian Empire.  As the stories and animal deaths spread, bats by the thousands were trapped and bagged as they slept during the day, and clubbed to death.  During these years, a mutation happened.  An occasional bat would attack a human and this transmitted the need to feed on blood.  Bats could only drink so much, but as humans began to feed on their own kind, the need for food would often kill the victim.

A secondary characteristic was that sometimes blood would circulate between the feeder and the food.  And when that happened, the victim received a bonus; rather than killing him, the mixture of bloods gave him an life that could only be snuffed out by extreme methods.  The victim became a blood-sucker, a vampire, the only way that vampires could add to their numbers.

The tales got a boost with Vlad the Impaler, in 15th century Romania.  He tortured and killed thousands of his subjects by impaling them on wooden stakes.  Vlad’s bloodthirsty, sociopathic nature added to the stories of random death and impalement became the legendary way to kill these almost indestructible beings.

By the middle of the 16th century, several small bands, or tribes, of vampires lived in the Romanian, Hungarian, Bulgarian—the CarpathianMountain—area.  Initially, they staked out territories; eventually they ended up warring on each other.  As food supplies dwindled—more peasants were killed or left the mountains in fear—the tribes took to fratricide, which kept the numbers down.  Within a hundred years, the tribes had coalesced into two major families, the Kandeskys and the Huszars, who developed large feudal estates near each other.

The vampire “families” existed with a fragile truce for almost 400 years.  They agreed on hunting territories, splitting up middle Europe.  As long as the peasant population held, they culled, taking care not to mix the bloods.  Occasionally, one or the other of the families would add a few new members, but they were careful to keep the numbers low enough that they had ample food.  About 150 years ago, the Huszars lost two of their older leaders when they were caught by a frenzied mob outside a village.  The vampires had taken two young village women, intending to mix blood and use them for mistresses. 

Impaled with wooden stakes through their hearts, the death of the leaders left a power void and a domestic war.  When the dust and blood cleared, the new leader of the Huszar family was a relatively young man who’d been in the family for less that 200 years.  He wasn’t satisfied with the old ways and determined to control all the vampires in Middle Europe.  The Huszars embarked on an all-out war, taking over small villages.  Most of the peasants ended up as food but a few—those comely or strong or teachable or loyal—became blood-suckers and joined the tribe.

As they roamed further and further into Western Europe, they began concealing their victims.  After feeding, they’d slash the victim’s neck and steal anything of value.  Cities began to believe there were gangs of thieves, willing to kill, haunting their streets.  If the victim had nothing of value, the body was thrown into the nearest body of water.  The tales of vampire killings stayed only in the small villages of Middle Europe.

The Kandesky’s took another road.  They closed ranks, limited their numbers to very few and made treaties with demons who’d lived in the mountains for millennia.  Some people admired the Kandeskys and wanted to become part of the tribe, wanting to take their chances of being hunted in exchange for everlasting life, but the Kandesky leaders chose carefully and frugally.  Only those with true beauty, competency and serene self-possession were allowed to join; in this way the tribe lived quietly and peacefully, avoiding the mobs and hunting parties.

During this tale-telling, the Baron’s voice almost lulled me to sleep.  While he was relating the story, several others had quietly slipped into the room.  Like kids wanting to know how it was in the olden days, the family members loved to hear the history.

On a couple of occasions a house demon brought another log for the massive fireplace and I gradually became aware of wood hissing and popping but it wasn’t enough to keep me from nodding.

“You’re tired, Maxie,” the Baron’s voice woke me.  “I know you’re not really on our schedule.  We don’t want you to be...we need you to function during the day, so I’ll stop now and let you get to bed.”

“What time is it?” I looked around for a clock then realized that they had no need to know the time.  There were plenty of demons and just plain servants to keep track of things for them and the only time that mattered to the vampires was the sun.

Jean-Louis came over, offering his hand to help me up from the chair where I dozed while the Baron’s voice brought back centuries of family history. “It’s almost 5.  The sun will be up soon and we have some other things to attend to.  Lizbet has your room ready.”

A smile made it up to his eyes, but he was all business.  “I’ve asked a house demon to see you up and watch your door.  We’re pretty sure the Huszars have quit for tonight, but we want to have a guard on you, all the same.”

As I went into the hall from the study, a very large demon all in black nodded and led me up the stairs.  He opened my bedroom door, went in for a complete tour, motioned me in and left, shutting the door.  I waited for a lock turning, thinking I’d pitch a fit about being locked in, but none came and when I checked the door, realized that I couldn’t lock it from inside either.  I was too tried to decide if no locks on the doors was a good or bad thing.

Lizbet had lit a fire earlier and laid out a nightgown.  One more item I didn’t usually wear, but I’d bought a couple thinking that my ratty T-shirts and shorts probably weren’t appropriate sleeping attire in a castle.  It was all I could do to brush my teeth and wash my face before falling into bed.

Note to self as I went comatose: drink coffee after dinner otherwise this switch was never going to work.