His first instinct had been to cast it into the pond, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The more he tried to concentrate on his agricultural work, the more he was plagued by guilty thoughts of the treatment meted out to Lowcastes and humans by the Vambir.
Sitting in his cave, he stared at the trunk then walked over to it and tentatively opened the top. Picking up the Bible, he used the palmcom to conduct a keyword scan and found comfort in a verse from Proverbs.
He who conceals his sins will not prosper. But he who confesses and renounces them will find compassion.
Kneeling in the cave, he took a deep breath. “I confess that I was part of an unjust society and was complicit through my indifference. I confess that lab experiments I initiated led to the death of a human. I wholeheartedly renounce these actions and beg for mercy.”
As he finished his prayer, he felt the great weight of his guilt being lifted from him.
I chose to believe, and my faith made it happen. Faith is a powerful thing.
“Your Bible has numerous stories on how one should live, Iam,” said Kevak. “Which one best applies to me?”
He closed his eyes and opened the Bible to a random page. It was from the book of Matthew.
But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor? In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”
“Shall I become humanity’s Good Samaritan, Iam?” he asked. “I don’t think the humans who encountered me with the lamb would perceive me as such.”
*******
The villagers gathered in the church to hear the soldiers’ report. A thorough search of the cliffs had found no traces of the creature described by the shepherds. This did nothing to allay their fears, since no one doubted that Nosferatu was lurking in a hidden lair waiting for an opportunity to feast again on human blood.
LOYALTIES
Castle Dracula
Chaluxi took an inventory of the remaining functional lasguns.
Thirteen. That should be plenty.
The Vambirs’ excuse for avoiding the daylight was weak, and he was not surprised when he overheard Teodor’s plan to exploit it. Although Dracula readily accepted the situation for the time being due to his attraction to Mazja, he would eventually come to question it. It was imperative that the Vambir appear in daylight to quell any doubts.
He had come up with the ingenious idea of using the power remaining in the lasguns to generate a personal solar shield. As he worked on the device, he was aware of the fact that he could program it to fail, thereby eliminating any Vambir using it, namely Mazja. But this served no purpose. If Mazja were dead, then the Vambir would descend into anarchy. At least under Mazja there was a semblance of order, and the only Primitives they would kill for food would be soldiers on the battlefield. He took solace in the fact that as a species, the Vambir’s days were numbered, since the metamorphosis had rendered them sterile. Eventually, they would no longer be a threat to Primitives.
Helping Mazja to eliminate the children had been necessary. Their rejection of authority had put the entire group at risk.
It was the right decision.
For a time after Kevak’s escape, Chaluxi had steadfastly avoided ingesting blood. He had attempted to grow a new crop in a secret field far away from the lifeboat, but it was dangerously late in the seasonal cycle of the new planet. One by one, the Vambir had undergone the metamorphosis as he steadfastly refused to ingest blood. Seeing that he was dangerously close to death by starvation, Mazja had ordered him to be force-fed.
He had harbored the secret hope of weaning himself off blood if his hidden hemo-crops survived, but the Vambir were locked out of the lifeboat before he could check on its progress. He now accepted his existence and had come to terms with the altered morality.
Kevak had been right, to a certain extent. The mad cravings induced upon first ingesting Primitive blood were the same as the hemostim madness. Blood was certainly addictive, but once the metamorphosis was complete, it was possible to manage the cravings with small feedings spread out over time.
Carrying out extreme violence also seemed to lessen the hunger, supporting a theory floated by Mazja and Urit that elevated adrenaline levels offered some protection.
Those with weak minds were incapable of moderation, even when the survival of the Vambir was at stake, as was revealed in the Night Attack. They were similar to Primitives he had observed who could not exercise self-control over the intoxicating beverages they ingested.
But Primitive cravings for wine don’t put their entire species at risk.
Mazja’s plan was a good one. As long as they provided victories for their new benefactor, Dracula would bask in the glory, and the Vambir would feed.
Kevak would be appalled.
Thoughts of Kevak filled him with sadness and guilt. The time he had bought for him to escape his execution was not nearly enough for him to have found shelter from the daylight.
At least your end came quickly, Navigator, and you are not cursed to live out your days as we will.
His thoughts were interrupted by a coded knock on his door.
Mazja.
Once she was inside his quarters, they spoke in Vambir in case the Primitives had devised a way to eavesdrop that Chaluxi had not detected.
“Will it work?” asked Mazja.
Chaluxi nodded.
“Excellent,” she said. “Our Primitive prince wants to launch an attack on an Ottoman encampment soon.”
“On the third day of the journey, his cronies will have their ‘accidental’ fire,” said Chaluxi.
“And the flames will eliminate many obstacles,” said Mazja with a smile.
*******
As Dracula knelt next to Elzbieta in prayer in her private chapel, his lips moved in unison with hers, but his thoughts were of unholy things.
The Ottomans will soon fall and my position will be secure. I will make Mazja mine then rid myself of the Vambir.
While the vicious fighting skills of the Vambir had certainly impressed Dracula, Mazja had failed to take into consideration his ego and jealousy. Tales of Vlad the Impaler no longer struck terror into the hearts of the enemy. They feared the infamous blood-sucking Vambir above all else, and rumors were circulating of how Mazja was easily manipulating him to attain power for herself. The usefulness of the Vambir was certainly not at an end, but once it was, he would find an assignment suitable for them.
I’ll send them on a crusade to the Holy Lands. Many lost relics are purported to be there. That should keep them busy for a long time.
He turned and looked at Elzbieta, absorbed in her prayers.
Gentle, devoted, and devout. She is the only innocent thing in my life. I will be a better husband once the realm is restored to safety and the unpleasant business with bringing it about is put behind us.
*******
Transylvanian Countryside
“We will have to be billeted in those farm houses, Sire,” Marin pointed. “Daybreak is an hour away and the Vambir will need to rest soon.”
“Thank you, Marin, for your consideration,” said Mazja.
She detec
ted Marin’s heart rate escalating.
“None of the houses are large enough to hold all the Vambir, milady,” said Marin.
“Lady Mazja and Chaluxi will be billeted with us,” said Dracula, “and they will choose how to split up the accommodation for their countrymen.”
“Marin,” said Mazja, “would you please ascertain the number each household can take in?”
Marin smiled nervously. “I will find out immediately, milady.”
It was an easy matter for Mazja to sense which house Marin planned to set alight. His heart rate significantly increased on one in particular when he spoke of the different numbers each dwelling could hold, and she assigned the five Vambir who had given into to the blood craving during the Night Attack to that one.
The largest house had been reserved for Dracula, and Mazja and Chaluxi settled into comfortable adjacent rooms. The first thing each of them did was to securely close the shutters. Given the choice, they would have preferred the cold, damp wine cellar to the sumptuous rooms they had been assigned on the second floor, but to request a change would only arouse Dracula’s suspicion. It was of utmost importance to maintain the farce that daylight was merely uncomfortable for them.
A soft knock at Mazja’s door startled her.
Not coded. It must be that disgusting Primitive.
Assuming a fake smile, she slowly opened the door.
“I came to bid you goodnight, I mean, good morning, milady,” said Dracula as he walked into the room uninvited and bolted the door behind him.
“Our victory over the Ottomans will secure your kingdom, my Prince,” she said, keeping her voice calm.
Dracula quickly took her in his arms and pressed his lips hard against hers. “Lie with me,” he whispered.
Quelling her revulsion, Mazja gently pushed him away.
“I cannot,” she insisted. “I would lose the respect of the Vambir.”
“I certainly won’t say anything,” said Dracula as he attempted to pull her back toward him.
In the adjoining room, Chaluxi overheard what was happening and decided to intervene. Dracula had no idea of how close he was to death if he continued to harass Mazja.
“Milady,” called Chaluxi from the hallway, “I have returned as ordered to review battlefield strategies.”
“One moment, Chaluxi!” called out Mazja as she walked quickly to the door and unbolted it. “How fortunate! Prince Dracula is here for the same reason.”
Chaluxi bowed to Dracula. “Sire,” he said, “as Lady Mazja has instructed, I have devised several formation scenarios for our combined troops. Now that you are here, I would appreciate an opinion as to your preferences.”
Dracula sighed. “Of course, Chaluxi,” he said. “You serve our respective countrymen most diligently.”
“Come, Chaluxi,” said Mazja, pulling extra chairs toward a small writing desk. “Draw your formations and let our prince decide which one he favors.”
Seeing that he would not be successful in bedding Mazja, Dracula sent for Iroto and Teodor to come confer with Chaluxi. Iroto arrived promptly, but strangely, Teodor could not be located.
“His sword was damaged last night while sparring, Sire,” said Iroto. “He mentioned going to search for a blacksmith.”
“No matter,” said Dracula. “We will discuss plans for the Free Kapikulu first.”
Chaluxi and Iroto drew out several attack formations and debated various strategies, all of which placed the Vambir in the front lines.
Their discussions were interrupted by a loud commotion outside. The heavy footsteps of soldiers could be heard running into the house.
“Sire!” a soldier cried out. “One of the houses has caught fire!”
“Find Teodor,” Dracula commanded.
He then turned to Mazja. “Iroto and I shall investigate.”
“We will accompany you, my Prince,” said Mazja.
Iroto watched as Mazja pulled the quilts off her bed and handed one of them to Chaluxi. They wrapped them around their heads and shoulders as makeshift hoods.
“But I thought—” he began.
“Daylight is harsh on our skin and eyes, Iroto,” explained Chaluxi, “but in an emergency such as this, we must set our discomfort aside.”
“We should have ventured into the daylight long before now,” said Mazja. “It has given rise to ludicrous stories, since evil spirits also avoid the light.”
Dracula smiled. “Quite ludicrous.”
Teodor came running up the stairs. “What has happened, Sire?”
“One of the houses has caught fire,” explained Dracula. “We’re leaving to investigate. Where have you been?”
“Searching for a blacksmith,” he said, indicating his empty sheath. He looked with surprise at Mazja and Chaluxi. “You are coming with us?”
“Our people are at risk,” answered Mazja.
“We must hurry!” exclaimed Dracula.
As they exited, Chaluxi activated their personal shields.
Teodor suddenly stopped. “I am unarmed, Sire. I should get my dagger.”
“Be quick about it!” ordered Dracula.
Teodor turned back to get his dagger but froze with fear when he saw the reflection in the hallway mirror. The quilts that Mazja and Chaluxi had draped over their heads were the only part of them that was visible in the reflection. It looked like two ghosts hovering above the ground. Teodor quickly turned around and saw Mazja and Chaluxi running with the quilts over their heads. Looking back at the mirror again, the reflection only showed the quilts.
*******
Marin could not hide the fear in his face at the sight of Mazja and Chaluxi approaching in the daylight.
“What happened?” bellowed Dracula to Marin. “You were billeted in this house!”
“Sire,” said Marin, visibly shaken, “the entire house was ablaze by the time I became aware something was wrong. I barely made it out in time and wasn’t able to see anything.”
The shrieks of the five Vambir inside could be heard.
“Why are they still inside?” demanded Mazja.
“They…insisted on sleeping in the cellar, milady,” stammered Marin. “The ceiling above the entrance collapsed and covered it in burning debris.”
“I thought the flames prevented you from seeing anything,” said Chaluxi.
“I will not allow my people to perish!” shouted Mazja as she ran toward the house.
“No!” cried Dracula. “Chaluxi, stop her!”
“My place is at her side,” he answered as he took off running.
Once they had entered the burning house, they saw several overturned oil lamps, and the Primitive hosts were lying dead on the floor. Chaluxi checked the bodies.
All dead from snapped necks. No witnesses and no marks of violence.
Chaluxi picked up one of the bodies and beat it viciously about the head. Mazja did the same to another. Ignoring the screams of the Vambir trapped in the cellar, Chaluxi and Mazja carried the bodies outside.
“We were unable to reach them,” said Mazja speaking through pretended coughs. “There was no debris covering the cellar entrance. It had been bolted from the outside!”
“There were oil lamps smashed on the floor next to these unfortunates,” said Chaluxi, also pretending to cough.
Mazja and Chaluxi laid the battered bodies at Dracula’s feet.
“How did a fire leave such marks of brutality, Sire?” asked Chaluxi.
Dracula glared at Marin.
Fearing for his life, Marin dropped to his knees. “My Prince, it was for you!”
Iroto restrained Marin and searched him for weapons.
“Name the others who were part of the conspiracy, and you will be given the mercy of a quick death,” said Dracula. “Otherwise, you know what awaits you.”
“Luca,” he said, trembling, “and…Teodor.”
Dracula laughed. “Lying will only prolong your agony.”
“I speak the truth!” cried Marin.
Mari
n’s only hope of survival was to turn Dracula’s troops against the Vambir.
“The Vambir are demons!” he desperately shouted to them. “Demons! You are all in grave danger!”
“Ah yes,” said Dracula as he slowly walked toward Marin. “Demons who obviously cannot tolerate the sunlight.”
A group of soldiers arrived carrying the bodies of three dead guards and Teodor, unconscious and bleeding profusely.
“Sire, these three were seen entering the house you were billeted in,” one of them explained. “They thought Lady Mazja and Chaluxi were still inside, and their plan was to assassinate them while everyone else was distracted by the fire. Teodor saw what they were up to and motioned for us to come, but by the time we arrived they had grievously wounded him.”
Dracula walked over to Marin. “So, General Teodor, who was nearly killed by your assassins, was part of your conspiracy, eh?”
Marin opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter another word, Dracula unsheathed his sword and plunged it into Marin’s chest.
“Return him to the house!” he commanded Iroto.
Iroto carried Marin to the flaming doorway and pitched him inside. Minutes later, the house collapsed into a heap of burning rubble.
“I find out the day before our greatest victory that I have placed my trust in the hands of a traitor!” Dracula shouted to his troops. “They were Ottoman spies,” he said, pointing to the bodies of the would-be assassins, “using demonic superstition to foment rebellion!”
He turned to address Mazja and Chaluxi. “This treachery will not go unpunished. We will find out the true names of every last conspirator.”
“My Prince,” said Mazja, still coughing, “Chaluxi and I will leave this unfortunate business to you.”
Turning to Dracula’s soldiers, she removed the quilt from her head and raised her hand to shield her squinted eyes from the sun.
“We regret that our sensitivity to light and other differences in our cultures have led to such fear and confusion,” she said compassionately in a suddenly strong, clear voice. “Our loyalty to your prince remains intact. We will fight the Ottomans alongside you, and if necessary, we will die with you!”
The Nosferatu Chronicles: Origins Page 13