"Considering how I feel now, I think I was very civil to her," he muttered. "That something like this would ever happen to you…"
"But I don't remember anything…"
"Try to, Mara," he said. "Try to remember. What did he look like? What did he say to you? Did he do any thing else to you?"
"But I don't remember," I whispered. "I don't even know what happened… What happened? Why was I being bandaged?"
"You've been cut," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Right here. Somebody cut you—no, more like punctured you—on the shoulder. It was—almost like a bite. That's why I wonder if it was an animal. Was it an animal? Did an animal attack you?"
I ignored Gaar's questions while I tried to piece together what few images remained in my memory. I remembered the moon, sometimes glowing white, sometimes red, and then some red eyes occasionally appeared. And I remembered hearing someone whispering, "Immortal," but that was all. I couldn't make sense of it, and I knew Gaar wouldn't be able to, either.
"I'm sorry," I said finally. "I can't remember who—or what—did that. I don't even know if I was attacked. Maybe I did it myself."
"Are you trying to say that you bit yourself?" he asked.
"No, of course not," I said. "Maybe I… I just don't remember, Gaar. Could I rest now? I'm so tired…"
"Yes," he said. "Yes, you'd better rest now. But I'll be damned if Agyar doesn't hear of this monstrosity. He has some madman or mad animal running around his house, and I won't sleep until he's done something about it!"
"You're not coming with me?" I asked.
"I'll come with you," he assured. "I'll make certain you're safely in bed, and all the doors and windows are locked tight. But I won't rest myself until I've seen him tonight. All right? Will you promise me to keep everything shut tight until I return?"
I nodded. "I'm not afraid, Gaar," I said. "I'll be all right."
"Good," he said, and rose to his feet and offered a hand to help me up. "This will not go unavenged, "he said. "I'll kill the man or creature myself, if I find him."
I decided to say nothing.
We were on our own during the day, as usual. Gaar had apparently found Agyar the night before and demanded that he find the "madman" before sunrise. A servant informed us during lunch that "the one responsible"—some crazed servant, he claimed—had indeed been found, killed, and had his body thrown out into the forest for the wolves to get. Then he offered his sincerest apologies on behalf of the magistrate, who was of course horrified that something like this could ever happen in his home. I think Gaar was only vaguely satisfied by all this. For one thing we were still made to wait around all day for Agyar to finish his "business" in town. I still had few memories of the night before, however.
"Now we can't leave," Gaar announced after lunch. "At least not until you get better."
"I feel fine, Gaar," I insisted. "We can easily leave once you figure out these trade problems. I'll have no trouble traveling."
"Hmph," he grumped. "Trade problems, indeed. We're coming along well enough, I suppose, but we could be done by now if Agyar weren't trying to do two things at once."
"Well…" I said. "He's just very busy. You're a magistrate, you know what it's like…"
"Of course I get busy," he said. "But I never leave guests waiting. And you know that."
"That's true," I said. "But not everyone is like you. He seems to be doing what he can, love."
Gaar said no more on that subject, and walked over to a small bookcase and browsed through some of Agyar's books.
"Many books," he muttered. "The man is well read enough." He skimmed a few more titles with his eyes.
"And many of them are in different languages," he continued. "I can't even recognize most of them…" he added, flipping through one book that looked to me like it was written in nonsense symbols. Then he quickly shut it, put it away, and sighed.
"You still don't remember what happened last night, do you?" he asked, going back to a familiar subject.
"No," I said. "No, I don't. I'm sorry. I really have been trying…"
"I know," he said. "I know. It must have been a horrible experience for you, for you to forget it like that. People can do that, you know—forget things that are too horrible for them to remember."
"I guess that's what happened," I said.
Gaar placed his hand on my shoulder and leaned over to kiss my cheek. "I'm so sorry, my love," he whispered. "This should never have happened to you. I feel so ashamed that I wasn't with you—"
"It's not your fault."
"But if I'd only been there, instead of wasting time playing games…"
"I blame you for nothing, Gaar. You don't have to be by my side at every second. Besides, I was a warrior once. I know how to fight, I can defend myself—"
"But you weren't able to this time, remember?" he interrupted. "You were attacked by surprise, right?"
Again I tried to think back to the night before, to piece together my sparse memories and answer his question.
"I don't think so," I answered finally.
Gaar turned away from me momentarily and leaned onto the back of a chair. "I saw no one else in the room when I found you," he said. "No one leaving, trying to escape before I got there. Just you—with blood all over your shoulder. You weren't even beaten."
"Maybe I was, but don't remember."
"Where?" he asked. "I saw no bruises or other marks on you anywhere. Just some small cuts near your neck."
"Small cuts," I echoed. "They ought to be fine now, then. Can I take these bandages off, then? They make me sweat."
"Welll…" he began in protest, then: "All right. I know you've had worse wounds before. Here; I'll take them off for you…"
He had to remove the top to my dress to unwrap the bandages, and I stood patiently for him while he worked, but not before he had shut and locked all the doors to the room—just to keep out the Peeping Toms, of course.
"Ah, you look all right now," he announced. 'It's just that you had bled so much, for such small holes…"
"I do feel a little weak still," I said.
"You just need more rest now. I'll take you back to our room, and—"
"I don't want to sleep now," I protested. "Then I'll be wide awake all night."
"Not if you're still recovering like this," he said. "You lost a lot of blood; that's what's made you so weak. You'll sleep fine tonight."
"If you say so," I muttered. "I just…"
"Just what?"
"Just… I just want all this to be over with. I just want to go home. I miss everyone—Leta. Kiri. Ran and Tirell…"
"So do I, love," said Gaar. "So do I."
Gaar only spoke to Agyar on business matters now. No small talk, or idle chatter, or even friendly conversation. He was angry with all the things that had been happening to us, especially to me, and wanted to make that quite clear to Clovaine's magistrate. Agyar might have picked up on Gaar's discontent, but I don't believe he ever made it noticeable.
Gaar was pleased enough that he had almost reached an agreement with Agyar when he entered our room for the night. But we still had one more day to get through before they could finish up once and for all, and that made Gaar more than a little grumpy. "All I care about is going home," I said.
"Me, too," he agreed. "But despite all the aggravation, this would be a good agreement to make, if we could only agree on it all a little faster. That's the only reason I've put up with this."
"Mmm," I said. "Well—Will you be coming to bed now?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes, I'd say this day is through for me," he said, and walked over to the balcony doors and shut and locked them tight.
"Couldn't we leave them open?" I asked.
He shook his head. "I'm not taking any chances. Agyar says some mad servant attacked you, but I'm not taking his word completely."
"Well, nothing else has happened…" I said.
"Doesn't matter," he insisted. "We weren't even shown the man. If you'd only been allowed
to see him, perhaps you would have remembered what happened."
"Perhaps…"
"And besides," he continued. "The full moon is out. I've never trusted the full moon. It makes men and animals go mad."
"Yes…" I whispered. "Yes, I suppose it does…"
I had a strange dream that night. I was lying in bed, and Gaar was asleep beside me, when I felt my name called. Then I felt my name again. It was merely the faintest whisper of my name, floating to me (on the wind?), and I heard it not with my ears, nor even with my mind, but in my soul. My eyes opened themselves, and my body rose from bed of its own will, not mine, and I felt my legs being pulled toward the bedroom door, which even now was slowly and silently opening, seemingly of its own will.
I gave no backward glance toward Gaar, made no effort to reach out and hold onto a wall or some heavy furniture to stop myself; it would have been futile to even try. I knew there would have been no use resisting.
When I reached the main hallway, I knew that I was not alone. But no one was actually there; at least, no man or woman was there. I continued walking steadily through the hallway, never stumbling into furniture or corners or walls, because it was not I who guided my body through the blackness. My eyes were not needed here. I felt cold hands taking both of mine into their own, and I sensed figures around me—man or animal, I couldn't tell—or perhaps neither—but I didn't look to see who or what it was nor did I try to pull them away.
At the edge of the forest Agyar removed his cloak and placed it about my shoulders. Then he placed his cold lips over mine again and only pulled away after many minutes passed. There were more shadowy shapes hovering around him, and the light of the moon flashed once in his red eyes before he spoke. I could do nothing but listen.
"For years now…" he began, "For so many years. Centuries. I have searched—searched for one who would be mine for all time. Who would share all my nights, all my power—all my love with me. For centuries I have searched. And then—and then one night as I searched, reaching out with my mind and my heart, I saw your face. And I knew in that moment that I had found her. After waiting so long, and hoping, I had found the one woman who was destined to be mine—forever.
"You are that woman, Mara. And when I finally located you, found your city and your home, and I asked you here, you came. And when you came, and I saw you face-to-face, and looked upon you not in my mind but with my own eyes, I knew that I had truly found my immortal queen.
"The magistrate—Gaarius—your husband—he is not meant for you. Fate has played a cruel joke and given you to him before you met the one you were truly destined for. But that is only a small inconvenience now. I will have you, Mara. You will be mine, even if it means his death…"
I listened to every word. I understood every word. His eyes were burning into my soul again, flooding my mind and all its thoughts again, and I couldn't even struggle to keep from drowning. I watched silently, passively, as Agyar pulled a small dagger from his belt and held it to his finger. He pricked it quickly and held it out to me. I watched the small blood spot grow as he continued his speech.
"Taste it, Mara," he said. "Take this blood from me, as I have taken from you. We will then finish what we have begun tomorrow night—the last night of the moon. Come; taste…"
Amidst Agyar's thoughts within my mind was a memory—a small memory, one from years past. It was the image of my finger pricked, and Gaar's, and we were bringing them together in a symbolic bond. Our wedding. I hesitated to obey him.
"Taste my blood, Mara," he urged. "Help complete our bond. Then, tomorrow night, it will be over. And you will be mine forever."
I was not consciously resisting, but my hands were trembling as I slowly raised my arm to take his waiting finger. And slowly, ever so slowly, I brought it up to my lips and licked the spot once with my tongue. Agyar pushed it gently forward, however, and soon I held it completely into my mouth and began sucking.
There is little one can take from a finger, but I could taste his blood clearly, and I am ashamed to admit that I liked it. It was not like human blood; there was no "rusty" flavor; it was sweet, and thicker than human blood, and I continued sucking for how long I do not know before Agyar pulled the finger gently from my mouth. He straightened himself up and breathed deeply once. Then he brought the small dagger before his face and spoke again.
"You will be allowed to return to bed soon," he whispered. "But first you will take this with you," he added, taking my hand and placing the dagger into it.
"Tomorrow," he continued, "as I sleep, you will use it. You cannot be mine as long as Gaarius lives. You think you love him with all your heart, but I know that it is I whom you love with all your soul. So it is your task, Mara—your task to remove him.
"Before sunset… before I return to you, you must kill him with this. Take the dagger, and embrace him, and send it into his heart as he holds you. Before sunset, Mara. You must kill him. You must kill Gaarius!"
Those shadowy things were around me again, removing the cloak and returning it to Agyar, and they took my hands into theirs again.
"But until then," he said, "Return to him. Return to your husband, and lie by his side, and sleep by him through the night. But dream of me."
"Please close that, Gaar. It's too bright out," I said the next day. Gaar turned around to give me a quizzical look, but then complied with my wishes and closed the shutters he had just thrown open.
"It's not very bright at all," he said, sitting beside me now. "In fact it's gloomy in this room without some light."
"I just don't want any shutters open," I said. "Everything just seems so bright to me today." Gaar leaned toward me and placed a hand over my forehead.
"You look paler today," he said softly. "Do you feel all right?"
"I feel… weak, still," I said.
"You'll need to keep resting, then," he said, sounding not a little worried. "Eat and drink as much as you can for lunch, and then lie down."
"I'm not very hungry," I said.
"But you don't eat enough, love. I don't want you to get worse; I don't think I could take—" he said, and cut himself off in midsentence. Then he cleared his throat once and smiled nervously.
"Try to get better, love," he whispered. "Make yourself get better. You were bleeding so much that night… You've lost so much blood, but you will get better, if you only eat enough and rest…"
"All right," I whispered. "I will…"
"Perhaps…" he continued, "Perhaps if you've lost so much blood, then perhaps I can bring you some from the servants who slaughter the animals. Perhaps that will replenish what you've lost."
"Blood?" I said. "From the animals?"
"Yes," he said. "You've never done that before? When you've lost blood, you take some from an animal?" He waited for a reply, but I was inexplicably lost in strange, new thoughts from his suggestion.
"You never have?" he continued. "Well, perhaps you've never been badly hurt before. That's probably for the best, then. But you wait here; I'll find someone who can bring a fresh cup to you…" Gaar rose and kissed me quickly on the cheek and bade me to wait for him until he returned. I nodded slowly but never raised my head to look at him as he left. I was too busy thinking—thinking about his suggestion, and wondering why my mouth was watering so much over something I had never tasted before…
Gaar was pleased to see some color return to my face after I had drunk the cup of sheep's blood—or pig's—or whatever animal it was. And it tasted good—richer and sweeter than I had imagined, and I wanted more, but one cup was all Gaar had brought for me. A servant found us at that moment and announced our midday meal, and Gaar held my cup for me while we made our way to the dining room.
We had to eat elsewhere, it turned out. There were so many windows in the room, and the light was so bright that my eyes were in pain until we finally took all our plates, trays, and so on and moved to one of Agyar's guest rooms—meaning a room where he could talk to guests privately, if he wished. We sat by ourselves o
n couches and put all the food and plates on a small table at our feet. The room itself fortunately had only one small window, whose light shone on a particularly lifelike bust of Agyar in the corner. I caught myself looking at the bust and tore my gaze away before Gaar took any notice of it.
"It really bothers your eyes that much?" asked Gaar as he sat himself. He referred to the sun's light, of course.
"Yes," I whispered. "Yes, it does. I can't understand it It's never bothered me before. I've been out all day on days like this, and it's never bothered me…"
"Maybe you looked at it too long," he suggested "Hurt your eyes."
"Yes, I suppose I did," I agreed, pulling my gaze away from the bust again.
We ate in silence for some time; Gaar was satisfied eyeing Agyar's books and artworks as he ate, and I struggled to keep my gaze on my food and not on that bust. It was so real; it captured his essence perfectly. It was as though the man himself were there. Even the eyes were perfect; no, especially the eyes…
I needed to cut some of my food, but when I picked up a knife, horrible images suddenly shot into my mind—images of blood, of organs lying at my feet, of a jumbled mess of a man lying before me, and I held a bloodied dagger in my hand, and the longer the images played in my mind, the more vivid and gory they became, and I was powerless to stop them! I yelled once and dropped the knife and covered my eyes; the images disappeared.
Instantly Gaar was by my side, asking what was wrong, what I'd seen, and so on, and he had to pry my hands from my eyes before I would look at him. And the moment I looked at him, and realized that the "jumbled mess of a man" I had imagined was him, I burst into tears and covered my face again.
But I couldn't tell him what I had imagined, for it was too horrible for me to take, and I couldn't possibly explain why he was the one I had "killed." I didn't even know where those images came from, and I was terrified. Gaar then did what came naturally to him—holding me in comfort—only that made the images come back.
"No!" I cried, pushing him away. "Don't hold me!! Please don't hold me!!"
The Vampire Memoirs Page 11