Jonathan Harker’s Diary,
Dracula,
By Bram Stoker
30 July, 1914 - The Castle Road
Well, Bacsi was right, no rain fell; but that did not make the day less dreary. A faint fog hung over everything, sapping whatever color the landscape might have offered. The horses trudged along, frequently needing a little prodding from their riders.
The road, straight south, was clear of underbrush. It was not so much because of use, but that nothing seemed to grow on or near it. There was no forest here. The only break in the monotony of the land were boulders of many different sizes, strewn about the countryside.
Jonathan could see now why they needed a base camp, and why they took along provisions for the horses; this land was desolate.
The road undulated, first dipping into a shallow valley before climbing back out, but always continuing on an upward slope. He searched the horizon at each peak, afraid at what he might see, and relieved when the horizon remained empty.
Karoly was the first to spy the castle; not surprising, as he had been there a couple of times already with the doctor.
What was surprising was how huge it loomed over the landscape. It towered above them, then vanished again as the road dipped down, but, as they continued, the castle seemed to shrink in size with each topping of the rise in the road.
Dr. Van Helsing pulled off to the side of the road towards two towering boulders, reining in his horse as he approached. He dismounted and walked toward the large opening between them.
Turning around, he cleared his throat, “Jonathan, your mother and I waited here, with Winchesters in hand. We were prepared to stop the Count from returning to his castle even if we had to do it ourselves.”
“Of course, then there was snow on the ground and we were on foot. We had lost our horses during the night.”
Jonathan heard a choke in the doctor's words.
"But, we were not alone for long." Here he turned to Quincey.
"We espied the gypsies aboard the cart bearing the Count, and our friends pursuing them."
"Your uncle and Jonathan's father shouted 'Halt' in such commanding voices that the gypsies pulled up on their reins for an instant, and then we had them surrounded."
"But they did not lay down their weapons, and when your uncle fought his way through the gypsies to get to the cart, one of them struck him in the side with a long knife. That was a fatal blow, but even then, he helped Jonathan's father pry off the lid to the Count’s coffin and drove his bowie knife through the Count’s heart."
Quincey dismounted and opened his saddle bag. He withdrew a small photograph, still in its frame. He looked at it for a moment then glanced around, taking in the dreary landscape.
Karoly and the remaining two horseman dismounted and went over to Quincey, motioning that they would like to see the photograph. He held it out while they murmured approval.
"Your uncle?" Karoly ventured. Quincey nodded.
The doctor came over holding out his hand. Quincey handed him the photograph and, as he looked at it, tears formed in his eyes, "Mien Gott. I had forgotten how young he was, and oh so courageous. It breaks my heart that we have lost one such as he."
Quincey looked up at the sky, opening his mouth as if to say something, but he remained silent, and looking over the heads of everyone, wandered down the road.
Karoly watched him for a moment and then searched the side of the road until he picked up a large flat rock. He brought it to the doctor and gestured questioningly with a nod of his head. The doctor, realizing his intent, looked back at the two towering boulders and then back at the road. He pointed to the far side and walked over to a spot, “There.”
Karoly dropped the rock in place and began searching for more. His two countrymen joined him, then Jonathan and the doctor. Soon a small cairn began to form. When finished, the four-sided tapered monument was five feet high.
Karoly asked Quincey “Would you like to place the photograph inside? I can cover it with this large stone.”
Quincey nodded, and, the doctor, taking the photograph from his pocket, placed it in the little space in the center of the cairn. Karol gently placed a large flat rock over the top of the cairn, effectively sealing the photograph.
"My dear boy, your uncle touched everyone's heart. He had an open and gentle manner, and his feelings ran deep. All of us were proud to call him friend, and all that was asked of him, he gave, and then, he gave even more. It is safe to say that our crusade would have ended in defeat if not for him."
At last Quincey spoke, “My memory of my uncle is very faint. I remember him as a large man with a ready laugh. His shadow blocked the sunlight when he walked through our door and he would pick me up, and fly me around in his arms while I yelled in delight. My mother was always laughing and smiling when he was around.” He lowered his head, ”When he died, some part of my mother died with him.”
The doctor grasped Quincey by the shoulders. “His memory lives on in these people, who, more than anyone else, realize his amazing bravery and sacrifice. He is one of them by his actions and he will never be forgotten. You saw how they honored your presence here in their land, grateful that a hero's descendant honors this land again.”
Karoly stepped forward, “Quincey Morris will always live on in our legends.” He looked at the overcast sky, “And now we ride.”
They rode at an easy pace, the view of the castle above them alternately reaching higher in the sky or shrinking in size, depending on whether they were in the trough of the road, or on a crest in the road.
Soon they pulled up in front of the walled-in courtyard, maneuvering the horses around the fallen masonry; the once forbidding walls now reduced to piles of stone around a flagstone courtyard.
"Why these battlements are in horrible ruins. What has happened? I was here only five years ago and most of these stone pillars were still in place. Karoly, damage such as this would take centuries to accomplish. What has happened?"
"Doctor, no one has come here since you left, there was no need. We keep watch from the mountain only. The northwest side of the castle is not seen from there. We saw the damage to the chapel, but that was all."
The doctor shook his head as he walked around the boulders, pausing before the large entrance before him. The wood and iron doors leaned off their hinges revealing a large reception area inside. Odd fragments of light filtered through the dust-laden air, scattering a hazy light throughout the hall.
“Well, I see we have no need of keys. These doors were secure when last I was here. What devilment is this?”
Karoly gestured to Stefan and Nicholai to take control of the horses while he and Quincey began unpacking them. Quincey shouldered a coil of rope and put on large leather working gloves.
The doctor handed Jonathan two electric hand torches.
“Even though it is the middle of the day, the castle will be very gloomy. Please, all, of you, stay with me at all times.”
They all stepped into the hazy light; the glare making it difficult for them to see.
The doctor paused, and, pointing to the high, narrow passageway to his left, remarked, “This way leads to the eastern battlement and to the stairs which descend into the chapel. This is where your father, Jonathan, heard the Szganys enter to carry away the crates of dirt for the Count.”
He now pointed to a large, double doorway in front of them, “This is the great reception hall, you can see a remnant of its past magnificence in the inlaid wooden tile on the floor.”
Jonathan smiled; the doctor sounded much like a museum tour guide. But, the room was grand, or what was left of it. The wall tapestry was colorless and in tatters. The tile was buckled, and in the far corner along the eastern wall, the masonry slumped where the floor bowed. It looked like the only support to the south wall was a large heavy door, off its hinges and jammed into the opening.
"Give us some light here, I am not sure how damaged these stairs may be."
Jonathan moved forward, pointing the torchlight in front of them, and leading the way up the stairs and through the passage. Once on the second floor, the doctor regained the lead.
"The suite of rooms along here was where your father was held prisoner.." He waved to his right as he stepped into a doorway.
"Mien Gott! What has happened here?
The others crowded around the doorway and peered in. They were met with the overpowering smell of dampness and decay. A crumbling fireplace was opposite them, and a large table, which once may have served as the centerpiece of the room, was lying on its side, two of its legs buckled under it.
The doctor quickly crossed the room, peering into another chamber.
"What necromancy is this?"
He turned to face the others.
“Friends, when I was here last, with Arminius, these suites were of museum quality. The curtains, the bedding, the furnishings, all were of pristine quality.”
He crossed to the other side and peered into another antechamber. He did not face them for a few moments, unmoving as he stared into the room.
Finally he stirred, and, facing the others, he sighed, “I do not know what has happened, but it is wise to assume this...,” he waved his hands about, “may be another manifestation of the stirrings in this castle. Let us go back to the main floor and be quick with our search of the chapel. ”
As they walked down the passage, the doctor put his arm around Jonathan. ”My dear boy, I had hoped to give you an opportunity to wander about the rooms and ask questions, but this castle is no longer quiet.”
All waited in the reception hall for the doctor to take the lead.
"This room leads to the small stone staircase that will gain us entrance to the chapel."
"Karoly and Quincey, would you please go around to the front and enter the chapel from the east battlement? I want to be sure that that exit is open to us. Jonathan and I will go through the south passage. I wish to check those rooms too."
"Let Karoly lead the way, and be careful of the eastern wall; there has been a mighty shift in the foundation to cause such damage. Why the whole wall could crumble at any moment."
Quincey nodded and hefted the rope further up onto his shoulder to free his hand for the torch that was handed to him, then turned to follow Karoly.
The doctor, taking his own advice, picked his way around the reception hall, keeping a wide berth away from the eastern wall while concentrating on the damaged floor. Jonathan followed close behind.
Shafts of light from the damaged wall illuminated the interior. A large desk dominated the west wall, and was framed on either side by wooden shelving; barren of books or ornaments.
"I wish Arminius came with us; he spent most of his time here in this room, packing up the manuscripts and volumes. He might see something we are overlooking."
“This new damage on the east wall may have opened up the castle and it's contents to the elements.” Jonathan heard doubt in the doctor's voice.
They stepped through the doorway leading into a small empty chamber, making sure not to jostle the heavy wooden door.
The doctor walked over to the south window, “From here, your father entered this room twice, while still a prisoner.”
He joined the doctor at the window, and looked out at a spectacular view of the forests and the cultivated fields spread out before him.
"How far do you think we can see?"
"See the river below?"
By sticking his head out a little farther, he could see a meandering blue line on the valley floor. Eager to see more, he looked down, only to be shocked at the long, sheer drop of the cliff face. He jumped back and leaned against the opposite wall, trying not to faint.
"It is dizzying, is it not?"
With his heart pounding, and with a queasiness still holding him captive, he nodded.
"Karoly estimates that you can see 50 miles from this window; of course the refraction from the distant mountains helps, and the land is clear of its usual mist today."
“Your father, climbed out from the balcony above us and gained purchase on this outside wall to enter through this window two times.”
Jonathan moved to the window; now, with both hands on the sill, he carefully peered out again, but this time, inching his body forward more slowly. Even with this precaution, he felt light-headed and disorientated.
The view was breathtaking, but the sheer drop straight down the cliff face was terrifying. He stepped back from the sill to rid himself of the sensation of stepping out into thin air.
How did his father do it?
"Follow me." The doctor led him to a side door that opened on to a small passageway. A short distance later, they headed down stone steps and into another short passage.
The light ahead signaled their approach to the chapel.
Quincey and Karoly were already there, warily eying the damaged roof above them, and carefully stepping around the timbers and masonry strewn across the floor.
The chapel was large and bare; and open to the elements from the damaged roof and the crumbling east wall.
A small circular window high above the north wall still held a few shards of colored glass in its panes.
To his left, although daylight could not penetrate the deep recesses, he vaguely discerned the shape of another antechamber. Three great stone arches gave access to this chamber.
Looking above, he saw the damaged wall common to the reception hall and chapel. He took a moment to orient himself. So, the reception hall floor was held up by the stone arches below.
The doctor was already making his way through one of the archways with Karol, while Quincey, taking his time, was carefully investigating the east side of the chapel, moving around the crates and the dirt piles.
He again looked up at the wall dividing the chapel on the basement floor from the reception area on the first floor. He noticed that the masonry in the corner looked different than its surrounding neighbors. The shape suggested a doorway; possibly sealed off at a later time?
But a doorway to what? That corner of the chapel held a pulpit; its lectern six feet above the ground, and the back panels reaching to the top of the masonry.
Curious, he mounted the lectern steps, gazing out at the view this afforded him. He saw Quincey, now at the far end of the chapel tugging at a hinge plate on a great wooden door. Frustrated, he dropped his rope, and pulled out his bowie knife, sliding it under the hinge pin.
Jonathan flinched at a cool breeze touching his neck. He turned, and, running his hands along the vertical seams of the ornate wooden panels, he found the draft. Stepping back to view the panels extending upwards to the high vaulted ceiling, he reached out towards two of them. Brittle with age, they gave way easily in Jonathan's hands, uncovering a large hole in the stone masonry and its hollow interior.
He stepped back further as the two panels slid down, revealing their thin veneer. They slowly bent forward over the side of the pulpit railing before continuing their journey, end over end, to the chapel floor.
He gasped as the remaining panels bumped up against each other, dislodging their ancient moorings, and, one by one, begin their slow descent to the floor; exposing more of the curved stone wall.
Ducking under the lectern to avoid the worst of the avalanche, he was surprised at the racket this accidental demolition caused.
Before the last panel slid into its final resting place, Jonathan heard the professor’s frightened voice above the din. He gingerly crawled out from under the lectern, pushing away some of the panels that did not quite make the final descent. Their clatter sparked a new rise in the professor’s voice; still some distance from the pulpit.
He peeked over the railing and saw Quincey hurrying towards him. He waved his hand to signal he was alright, then he bent down to clear a path for himself.
“Jonathan! Jonathan! Where are you?” Startled, he straightened up so the professor could see him. “Gott in Himmel! What are you doing?”
He opened his mouth, but he could not think of what to say. He gestured at the exposed stone column and then down at the wooden panels, some of which were still blocking the stairway to the pulpit, and looked wide-eyed at the professor.
“Do not touch anything! Do you hear? Do not touch anything!”
The Professor began removing the panels with help from Quincey and Karoly; all the while throwing a barrage of questions at him in such an agitated manner that he found no opening to answer.
As they cleared the stairs, Jonathan stepped back, leaning against the wall to lift his foot off one of the fallen panels. With a sinking feeling, he felt the wall collapse behind him.
He looked at the professor apologetically as he fell backwards into the empty space, his hands frantically waving to catch any handhold; his only thought -this is going to hurt!
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