‘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.
‘I’m not sure. I think he’s making someone. Go and see if Valentine is out and about. As a matter of fact, I’ll come with you.’
The Queen, as beautiful and elegant as ever, rested her arm on that of the beginning-to-pong-a-little King, and together they walked along to Valentine’s room.
King Victor softly opened Valentine’s door. They crept towards the coffin, expecting him to be asleep. When they discovered the coffin was empty they at first didn’t know what to think.
They looked at each other over the open, empty coffin. The Queen looked back into the coffin, not really wanting to look at Victor, while Victor stood there in his now almost green suit, a blue vein quickly pumping on the left side of his white face, his black eyes staring almost unseeing into the coffin. He drew his purple lips back to show his pearl white teeth biting into his pink tongue.
‘He’s gone,’ he hissed. ‘He’s escaped.’
‘How can he escape?’ the Queen asked. ‘And why should he escape? He’s been with us all these years. He knows nothing. Only you and I know how he came here.’
‘And Igon?’
‘Why should Igon know?’
‘Because a fool like Igon knows everythink.’
‘Then we are safe. If Igon is a fool who will believe him?’
‘Don’t spout your female logic at me. The only thing I know is that mine son has escaped. I know he has. I haff a feelink.’
The Queen was not to be intimidated.
‘Nonsense. You are talking nonsense. He’s probably in his playroom listening to his musical boxes. He’s got all the latest ones. Only last week he sent away for Mick Jugular and the Rolling Tombstones.’
‘Vy do you prattle on so? Valentine has gone. Vy has he gone? I vill tell you. Somevon in the castle has told him he is not a Vampire. He knows he is not a Vampire. So beink a human child he wants to fint out whom his real parents are and you prattle on about … er … Tick Tracular ant the Writhing Twobones.’
‘Mick Jugular and the Rolling Tombstones, dear,’ his Queen corrected.
The King looked at his wife for a long time before he spoke, as if he was trying to recollect the past events. ‘You remember the night I brought him to the castle?’
‘Of course,’ the Queen said.
‘I found him, a small, little thing, not much more than a day old. He vas wrapped up in a blanket vit the vords on a piece of parchment sayink “Please somevon vill you take care off mine little boy,” ya?’
‘Yes. Look dear. I know all this.’
‘But dit you know whom his parents vere, eh?’
‘No one did.’
‘You are wronk. I dit.’
‘How?’
‘Because I made it mine duty to find out.’
‘Who? Tell me who.’ The Queen stared at her husband.
‘The Mayor. Ya, Mayor Goop. He vas his father. That is vy I turned him into a bat.’
‘And his mother?’
‘Mrs Goop, who else?’ The King was pleased that his wife now knew.
‘But why did they leave him?’
‘Because then, ven little Valentine vas born, they vere poor, very poor. They had no money at all; notink. They didn’t haff two grobbles to rub together. They couldn’t afford to keep the child ant don’t forget, they also had nine other children. Vhen the tenth von came alonk it vas too much so they hoped that somevon vould find him ant maybe take him in ant look after him. Vich I … vell ve … did ant now he is like mine own son only nicer ant better except for runnink avay like this.’
Queen Valeeta smiled at her husband and he took her hand in his saying:
‘Go and see if he’s in his playroom. I’ll alert the servants. I’ll see you back here in about twenty minutes, ya?’ Victor left the room, closely followed by his Queen.
Everyone in the castle was awakened and asked if they had seen Valentine. They all said no. They were then told to find him, immediately, on pain of death. Candles lit every room in the castle but he couldn’t be found and the other mystery was, neither could Igon.
‘Vat?’ the King bellowed. ‘Igon’s gone too?’ He looked at his other son Vernon and said, ‘Vernon, mine other boy, ven ve find Igon he’s yours. He’s yours to do as you vish.’
Vernon smiled his thanks and rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. Within minutes torches were lit and the whole of the castle staff made their way to the village.
* * *
Deep inside the forest sat two very tired and lonely men. It was almost black, the trees being so close together that no light penetrated them. Valentine was feeling a mite apprehensive. He was afraid, not of the dark, but of what the King of Vampires might, nay would, do when he realised he had gone.
Victor would now know that Valentine would now know that he wasn’t a Vampire and he, Victor, would also know that he, Valentine, would also know that he was kidnapped and smuggled into the castle at a very early age. Victor would know that Valentine would know that by now, because he, Victor, would know that Igon would know and that he, Igon, would tell Valentine.
As for Igon, well, at the moment he knew nothing, as he was hard and fast asleep, probably dreaming of his Mummy. Valentine was very tired, and tomorrow would be the hard day to stay awake, but stay awake he must.
Valentine woke Igon and told him to climb a tree to see if he could see anything unusual going on around them. Igon climbed up the tallest tree near them with surprising agility and soon reached the uppermost branches.
‘Can you see anything?’ questioned Valentine. He looked up and could see nothing as the tall tree climbed into complete darkness. It was now very dark and Igon at the top of the tree was polishing his glass eye and holding it out towards the village.
‘I can see lights, Sire.’
‘You’ll have to speak up, Igon. I can’t hear you. You seem a long way away.’
‘Pardon?’
‘How far are we from the village?’ Valentine cupped his hands and shouted.
‘Yes.’
‘Yes what?’
‘Yes, Sire.’
‘Come down Igon.’
‘Should I come down, Sire?’
‘Yes.’
Pardon?’
‘Stay where you are. I’ll come up.’
‘All right. I’ll come down.’
They passed each other half way up or down the tree.
‘Igon,’ Valentine shouted from the top of the tree.
‘Yes Master,’ answered Igon loudly from the bottom of the same tree.
Valentine, whose temper was very slow to start, was by now getting a tiny bit agitated with Igon so he counted up to twenty, then another twenty. He eventually reached the figure of fifty-eight before he had his temper under control again. He shouted at the top of his voice, not caring whether anyone else heard him or not.
‘I’m going to come down the tree, Igon,’ and with that proceeded down the tree as fast as was humanly possible. He was about three-quarters of the way down when he thought something was a bit wrong. He was on a part of the tree that was moving.
Igon spoke. ‘Hello Master. Why are you on top of me?’
‘Stay where you are, for crying out loud.’
‘Me too, Sire. I’ve been crying out loud but you didn’t answer me and you’re getting quite heavy, Master.’
‘Igon,’ said a very tired Valentine.
‘Yes, Master?’
‘I’m going down to the ground. Will you please follow me.’
‘Of course, my Lord.’
Valentine slowly and safely reached the ground.
‘Tell me what you saw while you were up this tree, Igon.’ Valentine patted the tree they had both climbed.
‘Lights, Sire. Many lights. I held my eye out, Sire, and saw many lights all moving in the village.’
‘Torches,’ Valentine said, almost to himself.
‘Yes, torches. Hundreds of them.’
‘Then they must have found out that we’ve left and the King has got the whole village out looking for us.’
‘Not good, eh Sire?’
‘No, Igon. Not good at all and if he finds us I don’t know what he’ll do.’
‘He’ll kill me for starters. Or worse, give me to Vernon.’ Igon looked very downcast.
‘Don’t worry, my old friend. I’ll see that he doesn’t get either of us,’ but Igon noticed there was very little hope in Valentine’s voice.
* * *
There was tremendous activity at the castle. Everyone had been given a torch and ordered to find Prince Valentine and Igon and bring them back to the castle, alive. Well, one of them was to be alive; Valentine. Victor wasn’t too bothered about whether Igon was dead or not; he soon would be.
There was a reward for the man or men who found them and brought them back. The reward was to be a whole day off from work at half pay, or a half a day off from work at full pay.
There was lots of noise and movement, but not much enthusiasm. Almost all of the people of the surrounding villages rather liked Valentine as he wasn’t cruel like Vernon or his father. As for Igon, well he was just a harmless character and hardly anybody wanted to see him dead. Not for such a small reward anyway.
Vernon hadn’t been as happy since the day he dissected a toad and put its legs on back to front so that when it wanted to jump in the pool or the moat it jumped further away from it. The only way it ended up in the water was to turn away from the place it wanted to jump in and jump in backwards.
He was in the cellar, thinking of the terrible things he could do with Igon.
Queen Valeeta was busy combing her hair and humming an old and traditional Vamparian air to herself.
It was a humid Saturday night
The air was still and the moon was bright
The vein was blue and looked so good as the
Vampire sucked the neck of blood.
Tral la lalla lala lah.
King Victor was in his room in his top hat, string vest and black underpants with the bat motif all over them in white, waiting for his suit to dry. He angrily paced about his room waiting for news of the two escapees.
* * *
In the village itself, Doctor Plump bumped into Grabbo and Areta.
‘Have you heard the news?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Grabbo and his daughter nodded her lovely head.
‘Have you any idea where they might be?’ the Doctor asked.
‘Not really,’ Grabbo said. ‘One of the villagers thought he saw what could have been them making towards the woods, but nobody’s sure.’
‘If anybody knows where find them, I would think that Wilf the Werewolf would,’ Areta said nervously.
‘Well, let’s see if we can find Wilf. Maybe he will tell us,’ the Doctor said with more than a glint of greed in his eyes.
‘At this time of night Wilf will be in the forest,’ Grabbo spoke quietly.
‘To the forest then,’ Plump said, rubbing his hands together.
‘What will you do if you find them there?’ Areta spoke firmly.
‘Er well … what would you do?’ the Doctor asked, not wanting to commit himself either way.
‘The same as you,’ Areta said cleverly. She looked at the Doctor.
The Doctor looked shiftily away from her hard gaze, thinking to himself that if he captured Valentine and Igon he would be in the good books of the King for ever.
‘What would you do, Doctor?’ she asked again.
‘I’m afraid I … er, I’d …’
‘Yes, Doctor?’
‘Help them,’ he lied.
‘So would the whole village,’ Grabbo said. ‘Nobody wants them hurt. Maybe this is the chance we’ve all been waiting for, to get rid of the Vampires and elect a president.’
‘A president?’ the Doctor gulped.
‘Yes. The whole of our country is fed up with having a Vampire ruling over us and this may be just the right moment to change all that, wouldn’t you think, Doctor?’
‘Why yes, of course. Oh yes. A president would be a wonderful idea,’ the Doctor lied once more. His thoughts were of a different nature. He was thinking only of himself. He thought that if he captured the two villains now, he would be well in with Victor if the Vampires win. If they lose, I’ll be in with the president. Either way I’m in.
‘Let’s find Wilf,’ the Doctor smiled. Actually smiled.
The three of them made off in the direction of the forest. They passed many people pretending to look for Valentine and Igon, but using the excuse to have quick meetings with one another and organise themselves to be ready to strike if called.
They lit up three large torches and made their way into the woods. They went the long way round so as to avoid other people and soon found themselves alone and well on their way, the Doctor thinking of maybe a Vampirehood; Grabbo thinking of who could be president, while Areta thought that the weather that night was doing her hair no good.
* * *
King Victor put his suit on although it was still damp. It was also full of wrinkles and creases and looked like the bellows of an accordion. He left as soon as he was dressed, by the window. He made his way to the village and the lights, his temper getting more and more the better of him. His flying that night was not up to his usual standard.
He landed on top of the baker’s wife and almost frightened her to death. The lights from the many torches cast evil shadows. The people stood back and sullenly gave him room. One or two of the drunken brave ones were openly hostile to him, but always from a safe distance. Others muttered under their breath. King Victor stood defiantly in the middle of the village, flinging his cloak around the air with all the expertise of a brilliant bull fighter. He was not afraid. He knew the strengths and weaknesses of these puny people. He knew he had the power of magic. He was not afraid of a few sticks or stones. They were harmless compared to the things he could do.
‘I am Kink Victor, Kink of all the Vampires ant I am your Master. You, all of you, vill do mine bidding. If you do not, I vill see that you vill live in terror.’
The people were quiet.
‘I vill take the youngest son in this village and giff him to Vernon. He can do many things. He can turn your sons into frogs, toads; anythink that takes his fancy. I vill take the younkest boy from the village every day until I get obedience. The Queen ant I …’ It was on the word ‘I’ that the tomato hit King Victor full in the face with a resounding splat.
The large crowd showed its approval with cheers and cries of ‘Capture him.’ ‘Get him.’ ‘Tie him up.’ ‘Let’s get the others.’ ‘We want a president.’
Suffice to say, all these sayings came from the back of the crowd and no one moved towards the King who, although his face was covered with an old tomato, still retained a certain majesty about him. It was while a few agitators at the back were ranting, ‘We want a president’ that the rest of the people joined in.
Hardly anyone shouted ‘Let’s kill him,’ or ‘Do him in.’ They didn’t really want to kill anyone at the moment. No, they just wanted a president to rule them and this was a Heaven-sent opportunity of letting the Vampires know their feelings. The sound swelled and you could hear ‘We want a President’ a good two miles away.
‘We want a president. We want a president.’ Some of the crowd became a little braver and stepped forward, while others were pushed forward from the back by a few cowards who were too afraid to show themselves at the front.
King Victor looked at the circle of people around him; old men and women, a couple of kids, one or two young girls and boys. The trouble was in the thickest part of the crowd.
‘A young boy of no more than four years of age, ran towards the King with a small stick in his hand. He raised it to hit the King but his young mother ran out of the crowd and quickly dragged him back to the safety of the crowd. Still from the back came the chanting ‘We want a president.’ ‘Vampires must go.’ ‘The people rule.’
At the far end of the village came three carts drawn by fast, but tired, horses from other villages around the area. The carts were full of men; young, fit men, carrying sticks and one or two with axes. Who had sent for these people? They were strangers, yet they were here, all shouting ‘We want a president.’ ‘Death to the Vampires.’ ‘The People rule.’
Some of them were louts, while a lot of them were drunk. A few shadowy men pointed the way to the trouble then disappeared into the ever-increasing crowd. Eventually the noise and the chanting was almost at its peak with the crowd getting bigger. It also got braver and was now almost touching King Victor. A few more tomatoes and rotten eggs had been thrown but not all had reached their mark. One or two had landed on the public themselves.
King Victor stood perfectly still. He hissed like an enormous snake. Those nearest to him, who felt his breath, afterwards said it was like sulphur. He raised his arms into the air – a typical Vampire pose. The crowd stopped pushing for the moment and Victor turned on a show of Vampire magic that stunned the crowd into silent fear. Not one dog barked; not one child cried; not one person spoke.
The King was in command. He pointed at people who fell down as if in a faint. He raised a child into the air with one hand, then dropped his hand and the child remained in the air. They gasped as they watched the child float away over their heads.
He hissed. He ranted and he raved. The crowd stepped further away from him. They had never seen power like this before. They had forgotten the stories that their parents had told them about the power of Vampires, as surely as their children would forget the stories that they would tell to them.
Women fainted and strong men ran away. Victor’s eyes flashed and dogs and cats squealed and howled in terror.
One drunken man, egged on by other drunken men, ran towards Victor with an axe raised and ready to strike. Victor just stood there and let the man hit him on the neck with a powerful blow. It would have taken the head off any other person, but the axe swung and hit Victor, leaving no mark. The actual force of the blow knocked the axe out of the man’s strong hands, but King Victor didn’t move. He remained perfectly still. A look of fright entered the drunken man’s eyes as he turned and tried to run back into the crowd and disappear. The crowd opened out for him, making a human lane for him to run down.
Victor took one very deep breath and pointed a long finger at the running man who stopped running and stood on his head in the middle of the crowd. He stood there almost as stiff as a poker, unable to move. Tears of laughter ran down the cheeks of the crowd. Tears of shame ran down the forehead of the upside-down man.
Over the years the villagers had heard of the power of the Vampires, but this was the first time they had witnessed it at such close quarters. The people all more or less thought the same thing at the same time.
‘If he can do this kind of thing, so can the Queen and so can Vernon and Valentine.’
As if on cue, they started to move away from Victor and the centre of the village and within a few minutes the village street was empty and King Victor was left alone.
He slowly rose in the sky and flew over the village at about thirty feet from the ground. When the people looked up and saw his shape, which had become the shape of an enormous bat, he hovered over them until they had completely disappeared.