That being the case, Baka and Lefrik decided that the only sensible course of action would be to keep moving, never staying in one place long enough for these Black Swans to suspect they were there.
So they marauded across Europe, leaving behind a trail of stories that could be used to scare children into submission for generations. Eventually Baka learned to speak German, Italian, French, Anglish, Spanish, and Russian. And, because he had a musician's ear, he learned to speak languages with very little trace of his native Romanian.
As a carefree vampire, Baka was witness to history in the making, but as a vampire, current events couldn't have been less important.
He spent time in Florence the year that Leonardo da Vinci began a commissioned portrait of the wife of a wealthy, silk merchant, that would someday be known as the Mona Lisa. That same year Michelangelo unveiled his masterpiece statue of David. The statue was placed in the public square and lit at night by torches. Because of some slight residue of the artist Baka had been, he might have felt a glimmer of admiration, but his priority was the bags of blood who came at night to view the masterpiece. He would merge with the shadows of the buildings that framed the square, choose his victim, wait until she departed and waylay her in one of the dark, labyrinth alleys of the Florentine night. Since the lady was sure to be accompanied by a man, Baka learned to make short work of nuisance escorts so that he could enjoy the woman of his choice at leisure.
In 1517 Baka would have been a very old man for his time, but he was a very young vampire. On the last day of October, he and Lefrik were in Germany, passing through the town of Wittenberg, after having been in Bavaria for the throngs attracted to Oktoberfest. Vampire loved nothing more than festivals for two reasons. They promoted drunkenness late into the night which made life very easy for vampire.
They loved university towns for the exact same reason, but not everyone at Wittenberg was there to drink and carouse. Baka passed by Martin Luther just as he was coming from having posted his Ninety-Five theses to the door of the Castle Church; that was the customary invitation for discourse and debate.
Luther protested various clerical abuses, especially the sale of indulgences, which were the equivalent of a ticket out of purgatory for a deceased loved one, and the building of Saint Peter's Basilica with money from the poor while the coffers of the Church overflowed with treasure. Baka had passed by the birth of the Protestant Reformation, but wouldn't know or care for another five centuries, when he viewed the events through the eyes of a man.
It was an eventful century even if Baka had no appreciation for the interesting aspects of it. He couldn't understand why anyone not on board the Victoria would care if Magellan had circumnavigated the globe.
By the year 1616, Baka and Lefrik were visiting Briton as they were accustomed to doing every ten to twenty years. Though Baka did not know who he was at the time, he encountered Shakespeare in London. To the vampire, he was just another disposable escort to a passing fair, younger female companion. When Baka attempted to take the girl, Shakespeare objected. Baka snarled at him with long white fangs and ice pale eyes. Shakespeare, who thought he was encountering a monster from hell, died on the spot from a heart attack. He was still clutching a folio of plays not yet published when he drew his last breath.
As the girl's life drained away, Baka stared at the folio clasped in the dying man's hands and almost couldn't wait to be sated so that he could drop the corpse on the cobblestone street and see what the dead man held so precious. He pried fingers away from the leather, pulled at the ribbon that tied it closed, then took the cache to the nearest lamp stand so that he could better see what it contained.
He, himself, had been to dramatic performances, but had never paid attention because he was not there to see the plays. He was there for the food.
He read the words, "A Season in Hell", by William Shakespeare. He retied the folio and carried it away to his rented room above the Knight's Bridge Inn. He ignored the innkeeper's good night and went straightaway to his accommodation which was adjoining Lefrik's. There he lit a candle and withdrew the document.
For the rest of the night he sat transfixed by the words on the page. A corner of his tainted soul was touched by the darkness of the tale that unfolded. He finished by the time light showed around the heavy blanket he had draped over the window. Afterward he sat for a while doing nothing, considering perhaps, to the extent that a vampire was capable of considering.
Even through his virus-induced haze, some part of him marveled that words on parchment had the power to arrest the reader and hold him spellbound. He could not remember the last time he had focused on one thing for many hours. His attention span was usually short and erratic.
Baka slept through the day, although fitfully as his dreams were filled with disturbing images conjured by the strange little man and his folio of words.
The next night he went on his way, leaving the scattered pages behind. When the innkeeper arrived to ready the room for another guest, he did as any illiterate man would do. He kept the leather folder to trade or sell and burned the pages as their only value was in the warmth they provided, however fleeting.
As Baka sat on the cold sandstone floor of the Edinburgh underground, he cursed himself a thousand times for leaving Shakespeare's work behind. The fact that it had never surfaced was a shame. After all, how many playwrights had the power to give a vampire nightmares?
Lefrik tired of Briton once again, and was ready to set out for Paris. In perfect ambivalence, Baka agreed. They hired a boat for a night time channel crossing and returned to the Continent. After outfitting themselves in the latest fashion finery for men of means, Baka and Lefrik spent several months availing themselves of a variety of succulent forms of entertainment.
They found Paris much changed architecturally. The city center had been renovated with grand buildings during the Age of Absolutism and a renaissance was occurring in other ways as well.
The Marquise de Rambouilet, Catherine de Vivonne, had set out to create an outlet for an exchange of ideas between educated commoners and the French nobility who were encouraged to refine their manners and patronize the arts. Everyone in Paris was talking about the Marquise's salon.
Not to be left out, Baka and Lefrik decided they would visit the salon that everyone found so popular and either be entertained or fed, whichever seemed more appealing at the time. They were on their way to the French-woman's townhouse on a most pleasant night, when not one thing was out of sorts, by way of a side street intended as a short cut. There, on a block not lit by street lamps, four men fell upon them in an attack so vicious they could only conclude two things: that the attackers were utterly intent on the demise of two vampire causing trouble for no one, at the moment. He was sure they must have mistaken Baka and Lefrik for someone else.
Baka had no idea that humans could move so fast. Lefrik showed them his fangs and hissed at them, but instead of being terrified and running away as they should have, the attackers calmly replied, "Yes, devil. We know what you are. You have no right to live among us nor shall you after this night. The Order of the Black Swan demands your execution on behalf of humanity."
Without the need to consult with one another, Baka and Lefrik ran in opposite directions causing the knights to split into two pairs of pursuers. Baka heard Lefrik call his name as he fled, but he did not pause because there were murderers in determined pursuit.
As he ran away, he heard his long time companion cry out and he remembered thinking, "Poor Lefrik has been staked through the heart." As Baka undoubtedly would have been had he not managed to escape. Barely.
It seemed to him that he alternately ran and hid through half the night. These men who were relentless in their quest could not be human. He, a vampire far superior to humans in so many ways, was flagging. And still they followed. Who were they? More to the point, what were they, these knights of Black Swan? And, why couldn't they just mind their own business as the Creator intended humans to do?
Just before dawn he believed he had finally lost them. He hid in the corner of a cafe wine cellar and had never felt so wretched. His purple velvet coat was a mess, the lace at his wrists smudged and threatening to tatter. He sat on the ground with his back to a corner, but dared not sleep in case the monsters of Black Swan were still out there. When he did doze, he had nightmares about them.
The worst part of it was that there was no way to distinguish them from anyone else. They simply looked human. There was no uniform, no insignia, nothing to indicate they were not like anyone else. What was a poor vampire to do?
The only logical thing was to escape Paris. Quickly. While he could.
Later in the day the proprietor and various employees made repeated trips to the wine cellar so that there was an almost constant traffic pattern, but no one noticed him crouching in a dark corner. When evening came, he cautiously emerged and stole a horse capable of getting him far away from the city.
Heaven sat on the carpeted floor of the Chronicles section of The Order's Library reading a large, bound and cataloged volume of copies. The original documents, known as primary source, were kept in fireproof vaults where light and humidity could be controlled for maximum preservation.