Galin’s Alley – Look Inside

Galin wasn’t happy about the time it was taking to get to the ship. Driving a four-horse wagon filled with wine crates through tight, heavily crowded streets took patience. It was the one thing he lacked today. He usually enjoyed the atmosphere of the city. But this morning he was on a tight schedule. Another one wouldn’t be coming until next week if he missed the cargo ship today. Staying another week wasn’t an issue for him since he planned on returning on the next train. The main problem was he had nowhere to store the wine for that long.

Genova was the largest port in Europe in 1901. It was also the main exodus point going to America. Most traveling through were of low means who could barely scrape together enough to book passage in steerage. Space was at a premium in the city and there wasn’t an infrastructure to support the droves of people pouring through needing accommodation. Galin was fortunate not to be in that position. His family had means to afford the finest accommodations. Places he had access to always had rooms available.

The streets erupted in a burst of anger as a loud motor wagon made its way through the constricted street crossing in front of Galin’s rig. Motorized vehicles had only recently begun dotting the city’s landscape. Reception of this new technology was not warm. Along with it came a pressing speed to the slower pace of a society used to steam trains and horses.

Galin was snapped out of his wandering thoughts. Someone had stumbled into one of the horses, causing him to push into his yoke mate. The mare shifted over into a stream of people, knocking over a woman. Galin was off the wagon into the street before she had hit the ground. He pulled her up from behind, stopping the mare from trampling over her. Once she had her balance, she spun around. Upon seeing Galin had been the driver, the woman unleashed a stream of forceful Italian, far too quickly for Galin to understand, though her vibrant tone made it easy enough to discern her intentions.

The woman was tall and slender without being too thin. Her lips were full and naturally rosy. She had dark, black hair and deep, brown eyes that appeared nearly black as well, until a streak of errant morning sunlight hit them. Like most of the native population, her skin was smooth, olive, and tanned. She was very pretty, probably under forty by his assessment. Galin imagined she could be striking with a little more attention to her appearance.

Her clothing reflected the rest of the working class – a simple ankle length shift dress and apron with a fish basket in hand. From her scent, she worked in the market, likely as a fishmonger or possibly a cook. Galin was more inclined to believe the former. Her hands were clean and calloused in the places they would be from years of knife work. The apron she wore appeared clean, although it had been stained yellow in the places she would use to wipe her hands. And then there was the blood. No matter how clean it looked, to Galin, it would always smell of blood.

He fumbled through some rudimentary Italian, choosing his words carefully. “My apologies, ma’am. My horse was bumped. Are you injured?”

She keyed into his glaring lack of vocabulary, slowing her speech, but not her volume, to reply. “You can’t drive them through these crowds! You should be walking them, so you don’t kill anyone!”

She straightened herself, wiped her apron aggressively, then spun on her heel and disappeared into the crowd. Galin stared awkwardly in the direction she had gone until he had lost sense of her. He slowly took up the mare’s bridle, guiding the team through the sea of travelers.

By the time Galin drew up to the dock, Lukkas had already offloaded his cargo onto the ship. He was standing with the loadmaster, reviewing the manifest and stalling.

“It’s about time. You nearly missed it.” Lukkas slapped Galin on the back, speaking to his brother in Danish.

The dockworkers seized on the cart quickly, hauling the precious cargo onto the ship. This was an important shipment for the brothers. Before today, they had only distributed locally. A procurement manager from one of the biggest hotels in New York had sent them a telegram. The owner, having visited Genova, had taken a liking to one of their reds and placed an order for two hundred bottles. If it sold, the winery would have opportunities to distribute to the entire hotel chain. This transaction needed to go well since they had only recently purchased the winery. Expanding their market throughout Europe had been their primary goal. Getting into the American market, however, was something they hadn’t imagined possible.

Galin was relieved to have gotten to the ship before it pulled out. In Danish, he said to Lukkas, “Sorry. I nearly killed a woman in the streets.”

Lukkas flashed an overly animated, concerned expression. “I told you! You should have fed before you left.”

Galin scoffed and spoke in an elevated whisper. “Lukkas! The horse nearly trampled her in the street. I didn’t bite her.”

Lukkas let out a hearty laugh. “You should have seen the look on your face. You are far too serious, Galin. I was joking.”

“You shouldn’t joke like that, Lukkas. You have no idea who might understand what you’re saying.” Galin admonished his younger brother.

“Galin, look around you. No one is paying any attention to us. They’re all occupied with their own thoughts of getting away from here.” Lukkas gestured around the docks.

“You should still be more careful with your speech in public,” Galin rebuked. He remembered very clearly the dark times when human fear had nearly driven them into extinction. Lukkas was too young to remember, but Galin couldn’t forget the horrifying scene of their mother’s beheading. The brothers were fortunately spared their parents’ fate, being mistaken for humans. They escaped with the few remaining members of their clan into safety and centuries in isolation. Their people had finally come together with all other known clans, becoming a single worldwide community. Gaining a foothold in legitimate business and politics was key to ensuring their safety. It was a delicate time for all of them.

Lukkas was much more relaxed about the attentiveness of humanity. Most were sheep, droning through their lives, oblivious to what was going on around them. Belief in magic and monsters had waned through the ages. Even if they had gone into the middle of the square and announced they were vampires, no one would believe them. They weren’t the grotesque creatures confined to darkness that fairy tales said they should be. The days of excessive indulgence in debauchery had come to an end with the extermination. Survival dictated they evolve. In only a few hundred years, they had become more humane than humans. They didn’t have untenable blood thirst or go on insatiable, murderous rampages. No one could conceive these modern, sophisticated men were the monsters of old, nightmarish stories created to scare children into submission.

Galin, on the other hand, understood exactly what mortal fear could do. Lukkas wasn’t yet born when humans began hunting them. They were covert, isolating and picking them off one at a time. Galin saw the resulting torture that wiped out entire clans. He found the beheaded and burned bodies. He saw the missing teeth and extremities. He saw the lengths terrified humans would go to. It was something he was unwilling to face again.

Lukkas saw the apprehension on his brother’s face. “You’re right, Galin. I will be more aware of my company when speaking.”

With the wagon empty, the brothers unstrapped two of the horses for their personal transportation and paid to have the carts driven back to the vineyard. Their business in Genova wasn’t finished yet. A few members of the Board leadership were here to meet with them in four days’ time. Until then, they would enjoy themselves.

The streets were far less crowded once the cargo and passenger ships pulled out of port. Traveling on horseback was a much easier way to traverse the city as they made their way to the most luxurious hotel available, the Grand Hotel Savoia. Upon the brothers’ arrival, their horses were taken to board. They entered and approached the lobby desk. The opulence rendered Lukkas speechless. His mouth hung agape. The ceilings were as high as any he had seen. And there was a small symphony of musicians playing in the far corner. Galin, not wanting to appear outside his element, held his astonishment in as they approached the desk.

Galin prepared his best Italian. “Galin and Lukkas Eliassen to check in, please.”

The gentleman at the desk recognized Galin’s obvious discomfort with the language and spoke in English. “We accommodate English, French, and German languages. Would one of those be your preferred?”

Since the gentleman at the desk had spoken English, Galin chose to respond in kind. “You are too kind, sir. I am much more fluent in English.” The conversation would continue in the chosen language.

“Mrs. Eliassen has already checked into your suite of rooms.” The clerk nodded toward Lukkas. “She was picked up from the nine-thirty train along with your baggage. Here are your keys.” He handed them each a key of their own. “Will you be requiring anything else?”

“Yes. Would you please send up a fresh tray of coffee?” Galin asked.

“Certainly, sir.” The clerk snapped at a bellhop. “Show the gentlemen to their suite.”

Galin and Lukkas followed the bellhop to their rooms, where Grace was waiting in the main living space. She was lounging on a chaise in front of the wide window with her head buried in a book. It was a usual position for her. The woman read anything she was able to set her hands on. Lukkas studied her for a moment. Her long hair swept up in a dolmen style worn by sophisticated women of that time. It was preferred so as not to muss under an ornate, wide-brimmed hat when they were out walking. She was still wearing her traveling suit minus the jacket, hat, and boots.

The sun shone across her face, highlighting a few unruly, dark tendrils twisting down one cheek and landing on her chest. Grace was a slightly above average looking woman. Not someone likely to be remembered in a crowd with the exception of her large, clear, deep green eyes. When she smiled, they lit as if the sun were inside of them. People were drawn to her in an inexplicable way. The sheer joy of life seeped from her every pore. She was empathetic and peaceful, but wasn’t a vampire like they were. No one knew what she was, other than an immortal. She appeared to be in her early to mid-thirties. At this point, she and Lukkas had been together for over six hundred years. Before that, she had a thousand she could remember.

Lukkas frowned at her unsophisticated position on the chaise. She laid across, propped by pillows with her bare feet draped over one of the arms, with her skirt pooled up onto her thighs. She looked up from her book, smiling widely, when she noticed the men enter the room.

Lukkas was of average height and fit with medium blond hair. He looked to be in his late thirties, mostly due to the age that styling of this period added to one’s appearance. He currently had a mustache that Grace did not care for. She thought if a man were to go as far as growing a mustache; he needed full facial hair to balance it out like Galin had. But Lukkas liked it, so she held her opinion to herself. The trend would change in a few years, anyway. It always did.

Galin was slightly taller than Lukkas, a little heavier and more muscular than his younger sibling. Depending on the amount of facial hair he was sporting, he looked to be somewhere in late thirties to early forties. He had thick, light brown hair that carried some reddish tones, especially through his beard. Both men had blue eyes, but Galin’s were brighter than Lukkas’s. Even without facial hair, he appeared much older than Lukkas; likely because of the hardship he had endured raising his orphaned infant sibling.

“You’re back.” Grace was glad to see them. “Business done?”

“For now.” Lukkas walked over, sitting on the edge of the chaise. “What trouble have you been up to?”

“None. I came straight here from the train. The better question is, what trouble am I planning to get up to?” Grace’s smile hadn’t faded as she closed her book, carefully marking her place with a satin ribbon.

Lukkas placed his hand on her arm, smiling back at her. “I know better than to ask that particular question.”

“Lukkas, I’ve been sitting for hours. Can’t we go exploring in the city?”

“We’ve been riding nearly all night. Personally, I would appreciate a bath and a nap,” Lukkas answered. He wasn’t used to physical endeavors as much as his brother was. He preferred dealing with the more cordial elements of the business. His skills were best suited for finance and contracts.

Grace wasn’t pleased with being stuck inside. “Then I’ll go on my own.”

“No. It is not appropriate for you to be without an escort in the city. Things are different here.” Appearances were extremely important to Lukkas. They needed to stay within the confines of proper society.

“Then I’ll have the concierge find me a guide.” Her face turned stern. Grace wasn’t one to be told what she could and couldn’t do, especially by a man.

Galin, always the diplomat, felt it time to intervene. “No need for that, Grace. I would be happy to escort you.” He also had an ulterior motive. He wanted to find the woman from the street. She had been on his mind since their encounter earlier that morning. There was something about the way she had carried herself. She was proud, confident, and fearless. Those were refreshing traits for women these days, especially within the social circles they recently found themselves in. Most women were eager to please men of means. This woman didn’t seem to care about anything outside the possibility that he had been irresponsible with his horses.

“Thank you, Galin. I would love to explore the city with you.” Grace rose to her feet, smoothing her skirt.

Lukkas was thankful for the compromise. “Well, it seems to be settled then. I can nap and join you two for dinner later.”

Grace was putting her shoes back on when Lukkas cleared his throat. She looked up sideways.

“What?”

“You’re not going out in your traveling suit, are you?”

Grace rolled her eyes. “You know, I used to wear the same dress for weeks. Now I change four times a day. I’ll be so happy when this ridiculous period is over.” She stomped to her room to change into her walking skirt and blouse.

Galin smirked behind her. Lukkas smirked back at him. “You too,” Lukkas said.

The smile slid off Galin’s face. He pulled off his riding jacket and tossed it on a chair. Without acknowledging the comment, he headed to his own room to change into something clean.