The Complete Vampire Chronicles 12-Book Bundle (The Vampire Chronicles)

by Rice, Anne

  I was very uneasy. I didn’t even know the city yet, I realized. I was preoccupied. I wanted to continue visiting the churches and feasting off the beauty of the city; but I did not know whether or not we were the only vampires here.

  It seemed extremely doubtful to me. After all, there were other blood drinkers in existence. Why wouldn’t they come to the most beautiful city in the world?

  As for the Greek quality of Constantinople, I didn’t like it. I am rather ashamed to say it, but it was true.

  I didn’t like that the populace spoke Greek instead of Latin, though I myself could speak Greek very well, of course. And I didn’t like all the Christian monasteries in which there seemed a deep mysticism that was more Oriental than Western.

  The art I found everywhere was impressive, yes, but it was losing all ties to the classical art of Greece and Rome.

  New statues presented men as stocky and crude with very round heads. Eyes were bulbous, faces without expression. And the Ikons or Holy Pictures which had become so common were highly stylized, with scowling faces.

  Even the splendid mosaics of Justinian and Theodora—the figures in their long robes floating against the walls of the church—were rigid and dreamlike rather than classical, or beautiful according to standards that I had not learnt.

  This was a magnificent place but it was not my place.

  For me, there was something inherently repulsive in the gigantic royal palace with its eunuchs and its slaves. When I crept into it and roamed about, visiting its throne rooms, audience halls, gorgeous chapels, immense dining room, and many bedchambers, I saw the licentiousness of Persia, and though I couldn’t blame anyone for it, I felt ill at ease.

  And the population, though it was huge and vital, could brawl in the streets over the outcome of the chariot races in the Hippodrome, or riot in the very churches, killing one another, over matters of religion as well. In fact, the endless religious quarrels bordered on sheer madness. And doctrinal differences kept the entire Empire in upheaval most of the time.

  As for the problems of the Empire’s borders they were as continuous as they had been in the time of the Caesars. The Persians perpetually threatened the East and there was simply no end to the barbarians who poured down into the Empire from the West.

  Having long identified my own soul with the salvation of the Empire, I felt no consolation in this city. I felt suspicion and profound distaste.

  I did however often roam into Santa Sophia to marvel at the enormous dome which seemed to float above with no means of support. Something ineffable had been captured in that grand church which could humble the most proud spirits.

  Avicus and Mael were quite happy in this new city. And both seemed absolutely determined that I be their leader, and as I shopped the marketplace for books in the evening, Avicus was eager to join me, and eager for me to read to him what I found.

  Meantime I furnished our house comfortably, and hired artisans to paint the walls. I did not want to become lost in my painted gardens again, and when I thought of my lost Pandora my anguish was worse even than before.

  Indeed I searched for Pandora. I told Avicus and Mael a few little stories, harmless and unimportant, of my nights with her, but principally of how I had loved her, so that images of her might exist in their minds in so far as they had the power to keep such images alive.

  If Pandora roamed these streets, if she came upon my companions perhaps she could divine from them that I was here and wanted so desperately to be reunited with her.

  At once I began to acquire a library, buying whole caskets of scrolls and going through them at my leisure. I set up a fine writing desk and began a rather neutral and impersonal diary of my adventures in the old code I had invented before.

  We had been in Constantinople less than six months when it became clear to us that other blood drinkers were coming near to our house.

  We heard them in the early morning. They came, apparently to hear of us what they could with the Mind Gift and then they rushed away.

  “Why have they taken so long?” I demanded. “They’ve watched us and they’ve studied us.”

  “And perhaps they are the reason,” said Avicus, “that we’ve found no Devil worshipers here.”

  This was perhaps true, for those who spied on us now were not Devil worshipers. We could tell by the bits and pieces of mental imagery which we were able to glean from their minds.

  At last they came at early evening and there was no mistaking their polite invitation to us to come with them to visit their mistress.

  I went out of our house to greet them and discovered that there were two of them and that they were pale and beautiful boys.

  They couldn’t have been more than thirteen when they were made, and they had very clear dark eyes, and had short curly black hair. They were dressed in long Eastern robes of the finest decorated cloth, trimmed in a fringe of red and gold. Their under tunics were of silk, and they wore ornate slippers and many jeweled rings.

  Two mortals carried the torches for them, and they appeared to be simple and expensive Persian slaves.

  One of the radiant young blood drinker boys placed a small scroll in my hands, which I at once opened to read the beautifully written Greek.

  “It is the custom before hunting my city to ask permission of me,” it said. “Please come to my palace.” It was signed, “Eudoxia.”

  I did not care for the style of this any more than I had cared for the style of anything else in Constantinople. And I cannot say that it surprised me, but then here was an opportunity to speak with other blood drinkers who were not the fanatical worshipers of the Snake and that opportunity had never come before.

  Also allow me to note that in all my years as a blood drinker, I had not seen any two others who were as fine and elegant and beautiful as these boys.

  No doubt the groups of Satan worshipers contained such blood drinkers, with fine faces and innocent eyes, but for the large part, as I have described, it was Avicus and Mael who slew them or came to terms with them, not me. Besides they had always been corrupted by their zeal.

  There was something else here.

  These boys seemed infinitely more interesting by virtue of their dignity and their adornments, and the courage with which they looked at me. As for the name Eudoxia, I was ultimately more curious than afraid.

  “Let me go with you,” I said immediately. But the boys gestured that Avicus and Mael should come as well.

  “Why is this?” I asked protectively. But at once my companions let me know that they wanted to go too.

  “How many are you?” I asked the boys.

  “Eudoxia will answer your questions,” said the boy who had given me the scroll. “Please do come with us without further conversation. Eudoxia has been hearing of you for some time.”

  We were escorted a long way through the streets, until finally we came to a quarter of the city even richer than that in which we lived, and to a house much larger even than our own. It had the usual harsh stone facade, enclosing no doubt an inner garden and rich rooms.

  During this time, the boy blood drinkers cloaked their thoughts very well, but I was able to divine, perhaps because they wanted me to do, that their names were Asphar and Rashid.

  We were admitted to the house by another pair of mortal slaves who guided us into a large chamber completely decorated with gold.

  Torches burned all about us, and in the center of the room, on a gilded couch with purple silk pillows there reclined a gorgeous blood drinker woman, with thick black curls not unlike those of the boys who had come to us, though she wore them long and fretted with pearls, her damask robe and under dress of silk as fine as anything I’d seen in Constantinople so far.

  Her face was small, oval, and as close to perfection as anything I’ve ever beheld, even though she bore no resemblance to Pandora who was for me perfection itself.

  Her eyes were round and extremely large. Her lips were perfectly rouged, and there came a perfume from her that was no
doubt made by a Persian magician to drive us out of our wits.

  There were numerous chairs and couches scattered about on the mosaic floor where rampant Grecian goddesses and gods were as tastefully represented as they might have been some five hundred years before. I saw similar images on the walls surrounding us, though the slightly crude but ornate columns seemed of later design.

  As for the vampire woman’s skin it was perfectly white, and so totally without a touch of humanity that it sent a chill through me. But her expression, which manifested itself almost entirely by a smile, was cordial and curious in the extreme.

  Still leaning on her elbow, her arm covered in bracelets, she looked up at me.

  “Marius,” she said in cultured and perfect Latin, her voice as lovely as her face, “you read my walls and floor as though they were a book.”

  “Forgive me,” I said. “But when a room is so exquisitely decorated, it seems the polite thing to do.”

  “And you long for old Rome,” she said, “or for Athens, or even for Antioch where you once lived.”

  This was a formidable blood drinker. She’d plucked this knowledge of me from the deepest of my memories. I closed my mind. But I didn’t close my heart.

  “My name is Eudoxia,” she said. “I wish I could say that I bid you welcome to Constantinople, but it is my city and I am not altogether pleased that you are here.”

  “Can we not come to some understanding with you?” I asked. “We’ve made a long and arduous journey. The city is vast.”

  She made some small gesture, and the mortal slaves withdrew. Only Asphar and Rashid remained, as if waiting for her command.

  I tried to tell if there were other blood drinkers in this house, but I couldn’t do this without her knowing I was doing it, and so my attempt was rather weak.

  “Sit down, all of you, please,” she said. And at that invitation, the two beautiful boys, Asphar and Rashid, made to bring the couches in closer so that we might gather in a natural way.

  At once I asked if I might have a chair. And Avicus and Mael in an uncertain whisper echoed the same request. It was done. We were seated.

  “An old Roman,” she said with a sudden luminous smile. “You disdain a couch, and would have a chair.”

  I laughed a small courteous laugh.

  But then something quite invisible yet strong caused me to cast a glance at Avicus and to see that he was staring at this splendid female blood drinker as though Cupid had just sent an arrow right into his heart.

  As for Mael, he glared at her as he had glared at me in Rome many centuries before.

  “Don’t worry about your friends,” said Eudoxia suddenly, startling me completely. “They’re loyal to you and will follow you in whatever you say. It’s you and I who must talk now. Understand that though this city is immense and there is blood enough for many, rogue blood drinkers come here often and must be driven away.”

  “Are we rogues?” I asked gently.

  I couldn’t help but study her features, her rounded chin with its single dimple, and her small cheeks. She appeared as young in mortal years as the two boys. As for her eyes they were jet black, with such a fringe of lashes that one might suspect there was Egyptian paint on her face when in fact there was none.

  This observation put me suddenly in mind of Akasha, and I felt a panic as I tried to clear my mind. What had I done bringing Those Who Must Be Kept here? I should have stayed in the ruins of Rome. But again, I could not think on this matter now.

  I looked directly at Eudoxia, a bit dazzled by the countless jewels of her robe, and the vision of her sparkling fingernails, far brighter than any I’d ever beheld except those of Akasha, and I gathered my strength again and tried to penetrate her mind.

  She smiled sweetly at me, and then she said, “Marius, I am far too old in the Blood for what you mean to do, but I will tell you anything you want to know.”

  “May I call you by the name you’ve given us?” I asked.

  “That was my intent,” she replied, “in giving you the name. But let me tell you, I expect honesty from you; otherwise, I will not tolerate you in my realm.”

  I suddenly felt a wave of anger emanating from Mael. I threw a warning glance to him, and once again I saw that totally entranced expression on the face of Avicus.

  I realized suddenly that Avicus had probably never beheld such a blood drinker as this. The young women blood drinkers among the worshipers of Satan were deliberately dirty and disheveled, and here, reclining on her magnificent couch lay a woman who looked like the Empress who reigned over Byzantium.

  Indeed, perhaps this was how this creature perceived herself.

  She smiled as though all these thoughts were transparent to her, and then with a little movement of her hand she told the two blood drinker boys, Asphar and Rashid, to withdraw.

  Then her eyes passed very calmly and slowly over my two companions as though she were drawing from them every single coherent thought which had ever passed through their minds.

  I continued my study of her, of the pearls in her hair, and the ropes of pearls about her neck, and the jewels that adorned her naked toes as well as her hands.

  At last, she looked to me, and a smile spread itself once more on her features, brightening her entire countenance.

  “If I grant you permission to stay—and I am not at all sure that I mean to do it—you must show me loyalty when others come to break the peace that we share. You must never side with them against me. You must keep Constantinople only for us.”

  “And just what will you do if we don’t show you loyalty?” asked Mael with his old anger.

  She remained staring at me for a long moment, as though to insult him, and then as though rousing herself from a spell, she looked at Mael.

  “What can I do,” she asked Mael, “to silence you before you say something foolish again?” Then her eyes returned to me. “Let me make this known to you all. I know that you possess the Mother and the Father. I know that you brought them here for safekeeping and that they are in a chapel deep beneath your house.”

  I was brutally stunned.

  I felt a wave of grief. Once again, I had failed to keep the secret. Even in Antioch long ago, I had failed to keep the secret. Would I not always fail to keep the secret? Was this not my fate? What was to be done?

  “Don’t be so quick to draw back from me, Marius,” said Eudoxia. “I drank from the Mother in Egypt centuries before you took her away.”

  This statement stunned me all the more. Yet it held some strange promise. It cast a small light into my soul.

  I was wondrously excited suddenly.

  Here was one who understood everything about the ancient mysteries, just as Pandora had understood. This one, delicate of face and speech, was a world apart from either Avicus or Mael, and how gentle and reasonable she seemed.

  “I’ll tell you my story if you want it, Marius,” she said. “I have always been a worldly blood drinker, never one given to the old religion of the Blood Gods of Egypt. I was three hundred years old in the Blood before you were born. But I’ll tell you all you want to know. It is plain that you move through the world by means of questions.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I do move through the world by means of questions, and too often I’ve asked those questions in utter silence, or long centuries ago of people who gave me answers that were fragments which I had to piece together as though they were bits of old papyri. I hunger for knowledge. I hunger for what you mean to say to me.”

  She nodded and this seemed to give her extraordinary pleasure.

  “Some of us don’t require intimate understanding,” she said. “Do you require it, Marius? I can read much in your thoughts, but this is a puzzle. Must you be understood?”

  I was baffled.

  “Must I be understood,” I said, thinking it over, as secretly as I might. Did either Avicus or Mael understand me? No, they did not. But once long long ago the Mother had understood me. Or had she? Just possibly when I’d fallen so in l
ove with her, I had understood her.

  “I don’t have an answer for you,” I said softly. “I think I have come to enjoy loneliness. I think when I was mortal I loved it. I was the wanderer. But why do you put this question to me?”

  “Because I don’t require understanding,” she said, and for the first time there came a cold tone into her voice. “But if you wish it, I’ll tell you about my life.”

  “I want so much to hear your story,” I answered. I was infatuated. Again, I thought of my beautiful Pandora. Here was an incomparable woman who seemed to have the same gifts. I wanted so to listen to her, and it was more than essential for our safety that I listen to her. But how could we deal with the uneasiness of Mael, and the obvious obsession of Avicus?

  She took the thought from me immediately, looking at Avicus gently and then turning her attention for a long sober moment on the infuriated Mael.

  “You were a priest in Gaul,” she said calmly to him, “yet you have the attitude of a dedicated warrior. You would destroy me. Why is this so?”

  “I don’t respect your authority here,” Mael answered, trying to match her quiet tone. “Who are you to me? You say you never respected the old religion. Well, I respected it. And Avicus respected it. Of this we’re proud.”

  “We all want the same thing,” she answered. She smiled, revealing her fang teeth. “We want a hunting ground which is not overcrowded. We want the Satanic blood drinkers to be kept out for they multiply insanely and seek to foment trouble in the mortal world. My authority rests on my past triumphs. It’s no more than habit. If we can make a peace …” She broke off and in the manner of a man she shrugged her shoulders and opened her hands.

  Suddenly Avicus broke in.

  “Marius speaks for us,” he said. “Marius, make the peace with Eudoxia, please.”

  “We give you our loyalty,” I said, “in so far as we do want the same things, as you’ve described. But I want very much to speak with you. I want to know how many blood drinkers are here now. As for your history, let me say again that I do want to hear it. One thing we can give to each other is our history. Yes. I want to know yours.”