Gears clanked and the drawbridge fell across a moat that separated the Queen’s palace from the tower where the realm’s undesirables were left to rot away.
The moon was full and its rays glowed down upon the knights as they flanked the prisoner. Sir Walter marched just ahead of them.
“Perhaps a deal can be made?” Lady Beatrice asked.
“Shut your gob, lass,” Sir Walter said. “I’ll have none of your tricks.”
“Whoa…no no no!”
Sir Walter turned just in time to watch in shock as one knight pushed the other knight off the bridge.
“What treachery is this?” Sir Walter asked as he drew his sword.
The remaining knight pulled off his helmet to reveal the visage of a man who was more beautiful than handsome. Lady Beatrice immediately recognized the long black hair and piercing blue eyes.
“Hello my love,” Marcellus said as he drew his sword.
Clang…clang…clang. Sir Walter and Marcellus locked swords, striking and blocking each other’s blows in perfect rhythm.
“Blythe, you traitorous dog!” Sir Walter shouted as he ran Marcellus through. It was a hit that would have rendered any man instantly dead, but Sir Walter watched as Marcellus gripped his iron gauntlet around the end of the sword that was lodged in his chest and pull it out as if it were but a mere annoying splinter.
“Is that your worst, Sir Walter?” Marcellus asked as his fangs popped out.
“Vampire!” Sir Walter shouted. “Christ, Sir Francis was right. You lot are everywhere.”
“Right under your unsuspecting nose for years,” Marcellus replied.
The opponents clashed their swords together with such force that sparks flew. Slowly, Marcellus inched his way towards the edge of the bridge. Sir Walter had no choice but to keep backing away to avoid being struck.
“Gahh!” Sir Walter cried as his muscles strained to block Marcellus’ sword with his own. “I taught you everything you know!”
Marcellus laughed. “You thought you did.”
The vampire relented. Just before Sir Walter could strike, his face was bashed with a head butt that sent him hurtling over the side of the bridge.
Marcellus’ face was covered with the blood of his enemy. He rubbed some of it off of his face then licked his hand.
“I thought you were dead,” Lady Beatrice said.
“Nay Antonia,” Marcellus replied. “’Twas merely what I needed Caesar to think.”
Marcellus’ gauntlets protected his hands as he removed the silver chains from his lover’s body.
He went in for a kiss, only to get a slap.
“Sixteen hundred years and not so much as a single letter!”
“Schemes take time,” Marcellus said. “And for us, a millennium might as well be a fortnight.”
The vampires embraced and kissed. As they lost themselves in each other, their bodies levitated off the bridge.
Once they were about a hundred feet in the air, Marcellus stopped. “I preferred ‘Antonia.’”
“It wasn’t a suitable name for England,” Lady Beatrice replied. “And I take it you’re Henry now?”
“Henry Alan Blythe,” the vampire said.
“Uggh,” Lady Beatrice said. “So common. Where, pre tell, shall we go now?”
“The New World, my lady,” Henry said. “It’s nice there. Quiet. Peaceful. Plenty of savages and colonists to feast on. It will give us the respite we need to plot our next moves as Phillip carries out father’s wishes.”
“Sounds delightful,” Lady Beatrice said.
The vampires pointed themselves West and took off across the night sky. Little did they know that a single hand was still holding onto the bridge below.
Sir Walter struggled until his other hand was on the bridge. His face was bloody and broken but he managed to pull himself up to safety.