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of disappearing into nothingness, or of turning into some four-legged or winged beast, I had no really
convenient option other than to stand my ground.
As the cleaver slashed toward my head, I plucked it from his grip and threw it away. A moment later I
had seized one-handed the neck of that great cockroach and, with bone-cracking force, smashed his
surprised face into the elegant wall paneling.
On that afternoon in that particular palace no one paid much attention to a little more blood here and
there. In fact, I had thought that no one in the rooms nearby was paying any attention at all, or I would
have chosen a less dramatic method of pest eradication. My meatcutter's body slid easily down the wall
and blended into the similar litter on the floor. Briefly I considered claiming his red cap as the spoils of
war, to serve me as protective coloration. But alas, it was already too late for that.
Unhappily my disposal of this vermin, which might well have gone unnoticed amid the general uproar and
carnage, had instead attracted the attention of several additional aristocrat-hunters, no less eager than the
first. They were now shouting at me from an adjoining room. These folk I hoped to be able to avoid by
retreating into the upper levels of the palace, where I expected to find mostly servants' rooms.
Kind fortune discovered to me a narrow stair, formerly a path for unobtrusive servants, which went up
inconspicuously within the thickness of a wall. I took this path, and no one immediately followed me. For
a minute or two I was able to hope that my pursuers would be distracted, but so determined were they
that at last I judged it wise to climb out of one window and up a more or less sheer wall into another one,
following a route that few if any breathing opponents could have managed, and none at all if they were
carrying weapons.
Things were going on much the same upon the floor above, except that there were fewer people. On
impulse, throwing open the doors in a large cupboard in hopes of discovering one of Radu's breathing
helpers, I found instead firstoneterrified servant of the royal household and then another, a pair who had
been hiding from the mob. When I appeared they were convinced that their last hour had come, and
began entreating me in the most disgusting terms for mercy.
Bah. I shut their whimpering, howling faces and stinking bodies they had already soiled themselves in
fear back up inside their closet. Whether they ultimately survived or not I have to this day no idea, but
I suppose their chances were rather good, as the hunters were more interested in me.
Once or twice in my prolonged and convoluted passage through the ruined palace, I had observed signs
which it would have been possible to interpret as evidence of Radu's passage, things to indicate that he
had proceeded me along this route, stopping to take his debased pleasures where and when he chose.
For example, here and there a body showed evidence of more than ordinarily fiendish torture. But with
atrocity on every hand, it would have been difficult even for him to distinguish himself in this company.
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I had just begun to feel that my stubborn pursuers had given up, when one of them again caught sight of
me in the distance, down a long vista of corridor, and raised a cry. I cursed and dodged out of sight, but
here they came after me again, pounding on door after door and pausing at a couple of locked ones to
break them down. These artistic palatial doors were not stout enough to require a great deal of effort.
Five years ago, only madmen had dreamed of a mob that would one day be treading these exquisitely
parqueted and tiled floors, seeking the blood of the oppressors of the poor.
Fortunately for my patience, and for their own lives, none of those now looking for me ever quite
managed to catch up. But neither was I successful in picking up the trail of my own quarry.
* * *
Thus it was that I, Vlad Dracula, spent the waning hours of that memorable afternoon barricaded in one
of the highest rooms of the palace. From that sanctuary, up near the roof, I contemplated the beauties of
the sky and waited for nightfall. Meanwhile I listened to distant music and laughter, screams and curses.
Ah! ca ira, ca ira,ca ira,
Leg aristocrates a la lanterne&
Before the last verse of the day's last performance of thecarmagnolehad faded into silence a silence
very like that of the grave I had time to contemplate at some length the strange behavior of the human
race.
At last the sun went down, and my nature underwent its usual diurnal change, which allowed me to make
my escape by flying out a window. It was pure joy to put aside for a time the outward form of humanity,
and to abandon my small, winged body to the enveloping peace of the upper air.
Chapter Ten [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]