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‘Ah, but it is, Igon, it is,’ said Valentine, taking a huge, deep breath.
Igon sat in the middle of the room on the floor, looking quite lost and befuddled.
‘Come, Igon,’ Valentine continued. ‘Let’s go to the village and meet some real people. People who we’ve never seen before. Maybe even a pretty girl.’
‘For me?’ Igon asked, his eye brightening up.
‘Who knows?’ Valentine laughed.
They left the castle, Valentine hoping it was for good. He intended to send the King and Queen a night letter thanking them for all they had done for him, but somehow things don’t always work out the way you plan.
The first thing they heard when they got to the village was the gossip that Ronnoco had been put in the only cell of the jail for being found supposedly drunk in the doorway of Motherscares.
To both Valentine and Igon the village seemed packed. They had never seen so many people at once. Valentine was very excited at seeing things that he had never seen before. Things like birds in a cage, all singing; beautiful, bright little things. He had never seen birds at the castle. Only once he remembered seeing a vulture flying over the castle when his old Uncle Vermillion had died. It was said that he had fallen down at night on to a stake that somehow had pierced his heart.
Igon, as a boy, had been taken to the village, but he had almost forgotten the things he’d seen. Today the thing that caught his eye was a monocle which he thought he would save up for, then put in his eye pouch for his glass eye.
The whole day for the two of them was spent looking at everything. Igon soon got over the fact that Valentine was still alive and that the daylight hadn’t killed him or even slowed him down for that matter. It seemed to make him stronger although it worried Igon slightly that Valentine’s skin was starting to turn a little on the red side.
It was now late afternoon. Both of them were starting to feel a little hungry, particularly Igon who was one of those people who could eat a lot of anything at any time. But they had no money and they both knew that in the outside world money was the most important of things and that humans would kill for it.
They stood looking wistfully into the window of Ari Hovis the baker at the hot bread and the beautiful cakes and scones. It was then that Igon noticed his reflection.
His heart missed a beat, if not two or three, not at his own ugliness but the fact that standing next to him in the reflection of the window was Valentine. A thousand thoughts raced through Igon’s tiny mind.
‘Vampires have no reflection. Should I tell him? Should I tell his father, the King of all the Vampires, that one of his sons had a reflection? What should I do?’ He was so agitated he started to jump up and down, so much so that people stopped to watch him doing his jig in the middle of the main street. This ugly little man with a tall, handsome fellow in full evening dress.
But, the people just thought they were from the circus, always due around this time of the year, and that these two fellows were here to advertise it. No one considered it would be anyone from the castle. Why, the only person to be seen from the castle was the King and he was only ever seen at night and very late at that.
Valentine realised they were being stared at, so, in a nice, gentle way he tried to stop Igon from doing this foolish jig. Igon couldn’t be stopped and still carried on with his dance, pointing towards the window. He was so excited he couldn’t speak.
Valentine looked in the window, saw their reflection and thought they looked like a circus ringmaster and his performing monkey. It was almost a full minute before Valentine realised why Igon was so excited and kept pointing to the window. For the first time, Valentine saw his reflection!
He raised an arm above his head to see if the other person who looked like him would raise his arm. He did. Valentine then lifted his top hat. So did the other fellow in the window. Igon and Valentine walked to the next shop and looked in their window. Yes, they could still see each other. They ran along the street, looking in all the windows, still seeing themselves. They were now shouting with joy, pointing to themselves in the window and to passers-by, who thought it was some crazy publicity stunt thought up to attract them to the circus.
At last, Igon and Valentine threw themselves down on the grass just outside the village, almost completely exhausted. Sweat was running off Valentine’s forehead. This was also a new phenomenon to Valentine. Vampires do not perspire or even sweat under any circumstances.
‘What does it all mean, Sire?’ Igon asked.
‘I don’t fully understand yet. It started when I bumped my head in my coffin this morning. I somehow knew that I had to get up, no matter what time of day it was. I knew something was that little bit different. I’ve really felt it since it was thought I had the dreaded Vampire vapours and yet, you see, I knew I didn’t have the vapours. I knew I wouldn’t, under any circumstances, catch the vapours. I couldn’t catch the vapours for one very good reason.’
‘What was that, Master?’
‘Because, my faithful little friend, I’m not a Vampire. I can’t be. Have you ever seen a Vampire’s reflection?’
Igon shook his head.
‘Have you ever seen a Vampire perspire the way I am right now?’
Igon shook his head again.
‘And last, but by no means least, have you ever seen a Vampire walking about in the daylight as I am now? Have you? In all your years of living in the castle, have you ever seen a walking-about-in-the-daytime, perspiring and looking-at-himself-in-the-mirror-type Vampire?’
‘Never,’ said Igon, a glimmer of understanding coming through. ‘Never, never, never.’ He was shouting now.
They both stood up and looked at each other with love and understanding.
Igon asked, ‘Does this really mean then that you’re not a Vampire?’
‘I’m sure it does,’ Valentine said with a smile a mile wide.
‘Then, could the same thing happen to me?’ Igon asked, slowly and seriously.
‘How could it? You’re not a Vampire.’
‘Forget about the Vampire bit. I mean, like you, could I … me … wake up one morning and find out that I’m not ugly any more. Could that happen to me? Like waking up and finding you’re not a Vampire. Could that happen?’
Not for the first time Valentine saw the sadness in Igon’s squat, dirty face.
‘Well … er … I don’t see why not,’ Valentine answered a little too glibly for the truth.
‘I’d like that,’ Igon said with a sigh. ‘So. What next? What are we going to do now. Go back to the castle and tell the King and Queen that you’re not a Vampire?’
‘I think not, Igon. I think not. You see, I have a feeling and I don’t know why, but I have this feeling that that would not overplease them.’
Igon looked at Valentine and although not really understanding, nodded wisely. It was all too much for him but as he looked into the distance he saw a figure walking along the footpath about a half a mile away, towards the forest.
‘That’s Wilf. Wilf the Werewolf,’ Igon said. ‘Should we tell him? Should we shout and tell him you’re not a Vampire?’
Valentine put his hand over Igon’s mouth. ‘No. If that’s Wilf, then it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.’
They both laughed out loud, almost loud enough for Wilf to hear.
That night they stayed out of the village and went deep into the forest to sleep and work things out. Valentine had the sneaking feeling that King Victor would soon find out about their disappearance from the castle and would not be too happy about it. He would almost certainly send out the Vampire guards to search for them. If the guards found them they would be taken back to the castle and Valentine would be heavily chastised and punished while Igon, in all probability, would be given to Vernon to play with and do as he wished.
As they slowly walked into the forest, keeping an eye out for trouble – well Igon kept an eye out, Valentine kept them both out – our young hero tried to think back to the days of his early childhood but the only thing he could remember was always being at the castle. Victor was his father, Valeeta was his mother and Vernon was his brother. He could not remember any time of his life when he was not at the castle living with them as a Vampire. He had a vague memory of a childhood fight with Vernon and Vernon lost his temper and said something about ‘… and I wish you hadn’t been brought here’, but it was such a long time ago that he couldn’t really be sure. They sat down to rest for a while.
‘Igon.’
‘Master.’
‘How long have you lived at the castle?’
‘All my life. I was born there.’
‘You’re human aren’t you?’
‘Oh yes, Sire. You only have to look at me to see that.’
‘How come you were born at the castle?’
‘Mummy worked there.’
‘What did your … er … Mummy do and where is she now?’
‘Well, she was a nurse to a Doctor Frankenstein’s monster. She used to care for him and get him ready for bed and, of course, when he needed it, she would also change his oil. Then, as far as I know, she ran away with a man from the circus, the tattooed man.’
‘What happened to the monster?’
‘She took him with her. They all went with the circus and I’ve never seen her since.’ He wiped a tear from his eye as he always did when he talked about his Mummy. ‘I never knew my Daddy,’ he continued. ‘He was killed. He fell in a vat of wine and, instead of trying to swim, he tried to drink his way out.’
‘Good Lord.’
‘Yes, he hiccupped to death.’
‘Do you remember me being born at the castle?’
‘You weren’t born at the castle.’
‘Go on,’ Valentine urged.
‘Oh no. One night you weren’t there and the next night you were. We were all told you were magic and that you were a special baby but I saw you being brought in by King Victor. You were wrapped in a blanket and he carried you in. That was the only time King Victor came in by the front door and not by the window. He always used the window but not that night.’
Valentine remained silent for a while as he thought over what he had just been told.
‘Do you think I was kidnapped; stolen from my real mother?’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Well, if I was kidnapped, that means that the King isn’t my father. The Queen isn’t my mother and Vernon is not my brother.’
‘Am I still your friend?’
‘More than ever,’ Valentine smiled.
‘Well, that’s the only thing that’s important to me.’
After a pause of a few minutes Valentine spoke again. ‘Igon, we must go deeper into the forest. We have got to get away from Katchem.’
Igon rose from the log.
‘Don’t you see, Igon. I’ve got to find out the truth. I’ve got to find out who I really am.’
‘But that’s easy. You are Prince Valentine, Knight of the Garter, Knight of the Realm. Last night, tonight and tomorrow night.’ Igon spoke with solemnity and more than a touch of pride.
CHAPTER 5
‘A President!’ the people cry aloud.
King Victor quells an angry crowd.
The moon shone directly on to King Victor’s coffin through the open window of his room. Inside the open coffin King Victor opened his eyes and lay there thinking about the daymare he had just had.
After a moment he majestically climbed out of the coffin. But as he stood up he knew that something was out of line. He knew that one or two things would go astray this night. He felt that his biorhythms weren’t so good.
There was always one thing that Victor liked about being a Vampire and that was, unlike humans, you didn’t have to get dressed when you got up. He was already dressed. He stood there and stretched himself. Then he went into a few late-night exercises. First of all he raised his arms level with his shoulders and practised a few cloak sweeps. He then did a few deep breathing exercises, one every four minutes, and finally sat cross-legged and cross-eyed on the window ledge with the moon full on his face, trying to get a little moonburn.
He had a slight headache but he knew that it was his own fault. He had been sleeping with his top hat on in his coffin all night and the coffin wasn’t long enough for him and his top hat so it had squashed down on his forehead. His mother had always told him, ‘Victor, never go to bed with your top hat on, for two reasons. One, it gives you a headache and, two, it puts a quiff in your widow’s peak.’ He felt the front of his widow’s peak and sure enough, there was a quiff there. Mums are always right.
He had one or two things lined up for the night. He would start off the evening with a few glasses of the red stuff at the tavern, but not too many as it affected his flying. Then, maybe, a little picnic in the graveyard. Yes, that would be nice.
He glided down from the window ledge and went over to the hat rack where the last Mayor of Katchem was sleeping. He looked at the bat who was hanging upside down from the hat rack. Victor thought he would scare the old bat so he stood on his head and, with a flick of his fingers, awakened the ex-Mayor. The bat opened its eyes and thought he saw King Victor standing the right way up so he turned over and fell to the floor.
King Victor laughed so hard the moon hid behind a cloud for a moment. He soon had the bat on his shoulder and, knowing that this bat didn’t like leaving the room by the window, walked towards the door as if they were going to leave that way. Suddenly King Victor turned round and ran as fast as he could for the window. The bat, whose eyes were almost popping out of its head, dug his little claws into the shoulder of Victor’s suit and held on for dear life.
But the King of the Vampires stopped as suddenly as he had started and the impetus took the bat forward and Victor watched him leave the room through the window, alone, as he himself remained firmly in the room.
The ex-Mayor, who was not the best of flyers, fluttered around outside rather like a dragonfly doing its first solo flight. The King, who enjoyed a cruel joke, watched as the bat flew out of control towards the ground. He then left the window and followed the ex-Mayor down. When the bat thought its time had come, Victor dived underneath it and took it safely on to his shoulder.
The bat, who was now so nervous that the fear of flying overtook the fear he had for the Vampire, once more dug his claws into Victor’s clothes and grabbed the Vampire’s ear with its sharp teeth. King Victor, who was no more than three feet from Queen Valeeta’s window, veered with the pain to the left of the window and hit the wall very hard. They both slid down the wall to the ground. The bat let go of his master and flapped his wings as hard as he could to keep himself up in the air. King Victor had nothing to hold on to and continued to slide down the wall to land in the slimy moat below.
Victor’s frightening scream was heard the other end of Gotcha, and most of the inhabitants thought that the end of the world had come. He slowly climbed up the damp wall of his castle, making his way to the Queen’s window. He gingerly climbed into his wife’s room, looking like a not-too-jolly green giant. The Queen, who had been awakened by her husband’s first scream and was now peacefully dropping back into sleep, screamed herself when she saw him.
‘Shut up, you silly olt fool,’ Victor ordered sharply.
‘Who are you?’ the Queen asked.
‘Your husbant,’ Victor said curtly.
‘Are you going to a fancy dress ball?’
‘No, I’m not goink to a fancy tress ball. If you must know, I fell in the moat.’
The Queen settled back in her coffin, saying, ‘Well, you drink too much. That’s your trouble. You’ve been at that bottle of twenty-year-old again, haven’t you? I’ve been watching you lately and you have definitely been coming home well and truly drunk. Every evening we watch you leave by the window heading for the tavern.’
King Victor was looking and feeling a little uncomfortable in his wet clothes.
‘And when you get there it’s straight for the twenty-year-old bottle. It’ll rot your socks, believe me. Look what it did to your father and mother. Your father drank so much twenty-year-old he couldn’t fly straight any more and the doctor grounded him, and he was only young. What was he, ninety?’
The green algae was now starting to dry on Victor and his suit was also starting to stiffen up. He only had one change of suit and that was at the cleaners. Valeeta droned on.
‘I’ll tell you this, Victor. If my mother and father were alive tonight they would turn over in their graves.’
‘Vife. You talk too much. I’m goink to see mine children. They should be outside on a beautiful night like this.’
‘Vernon is up, down in the cellar. I heard him,’ the Queen said.
‘Vhat’s he doink?’ asked the King.
