I said nothing. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps I had felt both those things, but any such emotions had long since been replaced in me by the purest form of loathing.
'With practised speed, the few remaining cries faded to nothing. The surviving Wallachians and I stayed frozen in terror, their superstitious fear infecting me and leaving me bewildered as to what to do. I soon overcame it and tried to find out from the others what they knew of what had happened, but it was useless. The French-speaker among them lay dead, a Turkish bullet through his eye. Even if I had been able to communicate with the rest of them, I doubt whether I could have broken through their terror. Although, as I was already beginning to sense, the horsemen we'd seen were in some way related to the saviour they had spoken of, these peasants seemed to greet his arrival more with fear than with joy.
'I strode out on my own towards where the Turks had been. Amongst the trees ahead, I caught sight of crouching, scurrying shadows and heard sounds that lay halfway between the language of men and the grunts of animals. Then I heard a loud cry. I was sure it was in Turkish, but it was quickly silenced, to be replaced by more of the snorting and sniggering that I had heard before. I wandered through the trees for several minutes, stumbling across dozens of Turkish bodies, each with the same bloody wound to the neck – many with other wounds beyond that – but still I came face to face with none of the horsemen. Then I stopped and listened.
'The noises I had been hearing had subsided and all I could now hear around me was the hoarse, shallow breathing of animals preparing to attack – all around me. I had walked into their midst and now I was encircled. I put my hand to my sword, knowing even then that it would be of little use. There was the sound of a footstep close behind. I turned and found myself face to face with Zmyeevich.
'He spoke, but I didn't understand the language. I did notice the foulness of his breath; like a swamp. He spoke again, in a different language, but again, not one I understood. Then he spoke in English: "Good evening." I rolled off a stock English phrase to say that I was Russian. He paused, trying to formulate a sentence, then smiled and said in fluent French, "In that case, you speak French."
'I told him I did, and he led me away. Only then did I notice that he was dragging behind him, like a cloak that he was too lazy to throw over his shoulder, the inert body of a Turk. As we walked on, he turned and casually discarded the body behind him, into the centre of the circle of creatures that had surrounded me. Behind us I could hear them closing in on what their master had flung them.
'We went back towards where I had left the Wallachians. In the time since I had left them, they'd plucked up some courage and were now standing, discussing what to do next. On our arrival – on Zmyeevich's arrival – they flung themselves to the ground once more and cowered. Zmyeevich paid them no attention. We sat some way away from them and talked.
'Fascination overcame both fear and good manners, and I asked him the most obvious question directly: "What are you?"
'"You are Russian," he said, "and so you will understand these things. We are vampires – voordalaki, in your tongue." I had no need to express surprise. "And we are patriots," he continued.
'"You're all Wallachian?" I asked him.
'"Mostly, at the moment; a few from Moldavia. We are an ever-changing band – except in terms of leadership," he added, with a slight bow. "But at the moment, we are all from… around here."
'By now, his comrades had begun to emerge from the forest.
The ten of them had formed a low, huddled group, not unlike the formation of my own Wallachian comrades, but there was something in their midst that was catching the attention of this new group. I could guess only too well what it was.
'"They don't all seem like you," I said.
'"And they don't seem like you," he replied, wafting his hand towards the Wallachians. "There are different classes of men in all societies." He turned to face me directly. "And that is why it is such a rare privilege to sit here and talk with you."
'"So I presume you saw us at the castle," I said.
'"I did, but I had already known you were here and known what we would do."
'"And you've lived there four hundred years?"
'"Not quite yet," he replied with a wistful smile that little suited him, "but soon."
'"And the others – are they all as old?"
'"Oh, no," he replied scornfully. "To live to my age requires skill, intellect, foresight. These are not the abilities one finds – or seeks – in a foot soldier. They are older than you to be sure, but not by a great deal."
'"And you created them?" I asked. "Made them vampires, I mean."
'"Again, no. Who could be proud to claim such creatures as his sons? They tend to perpetuate themselves. Occasionally a stranger may join us – a vampire whose ears our fame has reached. Generally, they are welcomed."
'One of the Wallachians – the one who had gone up to the door of the castle – had sidled over to the group of vampires, trying to see what they were about. As he got close, one of them turned and pounced. Within seconds the Wallachian was pinned to the floor, with two more crouching over him. Zmyeevich shouted at them and they stopped to look at him. He shouted again and they reluctantly returned to the pack. I could almost see their tails between their legs.
'Zmyeevich and I talked some more, though I noticed him becoming distracted, glancing over to where his underlings were finishing off the remains of various Turkish corpses which they dragged from out of the woods. It was at his suggestion that we decided to work together, at least to clear the Turks out of his area of the Carpathians. We would work much as we had planned to in Moscow; we would scout by day to locate the Turks and then they would come out at night to destroy them. He said he would have no trouble finding us on the mountains. He even went over and explained our plans to the six surviving Wallachians.
'"And now it is nearing dawn, and you must excuse us," he said to me as he returned from speaking to them. "But first, might I borrow your sabre?"
'I handed it to him, not knowing what use he could possibly have for it. He took it and strode towards the other vampires, who were still huddled around the body of one of the Turks. I couldn't make out what he did with the sword, but soon he was leading his band away, back uphill towards his castle. As they came close, I could see he was holding the tip of my sword to his mouth. On it was a chunk of bloody, raw flesh, which he tore at with his teeth until he had consumed it all. Then, with a smile, he threw the weapon back to me. As I caught it, he gave a casual salute and carried on up the mountain. Within minutes, they were out of sight.
'I sat down, looking at the remnants of the night's battle and considering our bizarre conversation. In the cold light of day, all that I had heard and seen would be strange and unbelievable, and yet I had no sense of doubting it – no sense of shock, even, at the discovery. I suppose that, because I had no personal apprehension of danger, I had no feeling of horror. Then I looked at the ravaged Turkish corpses that lay around us, looked at my huddled, frightened comrades and looked at the blade of my sabre, caked in blood in a way that was so familiar and yet, on that day, so repellent. I turned and vomited.'
He stopped and for several seconds we were both silent.
'So did you meet him again?' I asked eventually.
'It was just like he'd suggested. We'd comb the mountains by day, locating the Turks, but we wouldn't engage them. At night, Zmyeevich and the others would appear, and that particular band of invaders would be destroyed. They must have killed hundreds in total. Zmyeevich was good company – you may laugh, but he was better than anyone else I'd met in that damned country. And I talked to the other vampires a little too. They weren't quite as subhuman as Zmyeevich made out. Well, you know what they're like; you've spoken to the Oprichniki. And remember, they were my brothers-in-arms; at least for the duration. They didn't use those names, but Pyetr, Varfolomei, Andrei and Ioann were the only ones in common with now.'