Ridiculous! He stepped away from the tumble of garlic. He might have moved on, crushing the cloves underfoot, to symbolize what he would do to the idiots who concocted such a trap, but reflected that if they were setting traps in the corridor, they might have forgotten the old passage behind the tapestry of Mt. Zengo. He pulled this aside and moved into a dim world of dusty shadows.
It was not the difficulty—he knew this place bottom to top, having lived in it for seven hundred years–but the absurdity. He, Count Cardula, forced to slip around a castle he usually ruled with the twin rods of fear and pain, all because the cursed vampire hunters had drawn his own offspring into the battle against him.
He slapped away a cobweb which was adhering to his cummerbund. Until he was in command again, he couldn’t have the thing cleaned. They would pay. The Count’s two daughters and that pretentious professor were twisting now in the dungeon, and their lackies were dead. Only the heir to the castle remained to be brought in.
He ran a hand up his forehead and across his hair. This was smooth and supple again, thanks to the drink that last terrified hunter had provided. Not worth saving for torture, the pitiful coward had given him the extra strength he would need for this. The heir to Castle Cardula was cunning, and youth was on….
The Counr paused. What was that sound? It was familiar, but out of place. Where was he used to hearing it? He would have recognized the sound at once in..in his quarters but not…of course!
A grim smile drew up the tips of long red lips. That was the sound of a buffing cloth against leather. He had that satisfaction in the boy, at least. Cardula Junior was tending to appearances. This foolish youngster had picked that up, at least, from the grand example the Count had set: impress the foe not only with power but with its presentation. Magnificence alone had won the Count several of his victories. Pity the fool had turned to the light, but he was unworthy of the castle in any case, if he was stupid enough to pause at this moment to polish his boots.
The Count had reached the end of the passage; the boy would realize his mistake now. His cape flapping up behind him, the ancient vampire sprang into the room. “And so! You….”
He paused, puzzled, before dropping into dust. His diamond stickpin glittered for a moment, and then became as dull and dead as the rest of him.
The heir to…no, the ruler now of Castle Cardula rose, the cloth in his hand. He looked down at what little remained of the ancient figure of evil and nodded. He had known no undead lord could survive seeing the son shine.
Blogsy Babbles 