Shadow of Hope

by Elsye Harwood

  As she advanced closer to the village, she could hear the flock coming down from the mountains. She’d timed this just right. They would be going home and settling down for the night. She waited in the same place, listening for the tell-tale sounds of a barking dog.

  Once again the barking began out on the pastures, but this time the dog was frenzied and was coming right for her. It wasn’t stupid, as it obviously remembered what had happened before. She concentrated on what she remembered of the shepherd; it was a way of calling him to her. One of the many useful tricks she’d picked up during her long life.

  Abruptly the dog burst out of the undergrowth and launched itself at her. She sent it flying with a dismissive wave of her hand and it tumbled to the floor. It regained its feet groggily and shook itself but continued to growl angrily at her. She’d no argument with the animal, but if she had to, she would kill it.

  She heard the shepherd before she saw him. He was coming through the undergrowth rather than the forest path. To create the right impression she found a clearing and stood in the centre waiting for him to find her. Moments later he appeared, but this time he wasn’t scared. He studied her for a moment then reached inside his cloth tunic and pulled out his protective pouch. Shelpa tried not to laugh, but it was hard to keep her expression serious. The face he pulled was a mixture of confidence and triumph. It was so pathetic, such a feeble attempt at protection and defence that she couldn’t hide her amusement for long.

  She burst out laughing and walked towards the young man whose face registered disbelief which quickly turned to horror. She composed herself and smiled sympathetically at him.

  “I’m afraid you’ve been wrongly informed. This has no effect on me at all,” she told him and to prove it, she reached out and clasped the bag in her hand and pulled. The leather strap tore with the force of her tug and the bag came away in her hand. He cried out in pain as the leather burnt against his skin.

  “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. In fact you might enjoy it.” She studied him for a moment, taking in his hopeless terror. He tried to say something then stopped, but his large dark eyes were eloquent enough to express his fear and the futile plea for his life.

  He really wasn’t her type, but he tasted so good that she would make exceptions to her rules. Quick as a flash she grabbed his arm and pinned it behind his back to stop any more struggling, then she opened her mouth and breathed her breath over his face. Instantly he slumped and relaxed as the fight left his body. With her other hand, she cradled his jaw and forced his mouth open with her thumb. Carefully, so as not to miss a drop, she enfolded her lips around his and pulled at his life force.

  The jolt that shuddered through his body almost dislodged her, but she’d done this countless time before, so held herself steady. Almost instantly, the sweet delicious taste began to trickle out of his mouth into her. She sighed with pleasure; he tasted even better then she remembered. For a few wonderful moments his life’s essence slipped into her and she savoured every drop of it.

  Then unexpectedly, the stream seemed to falter and fade and no matter how hard she pulled it would only come again in fits and starts. He was still fighting her, she could feel it. Though his body was dormant, he was resisting and refusing to let his life be taken from him by the sheer force of his will alone.

  Shelpa had never come across this before. She seemed to remember Cyrus telling her that it could happen, and when it did, she was sure that he’d told her that it was to be taken as a sign that the victims were natural hunters. These rare humans that could resist the power of the Rabisu should be taken and melded.

  She pulled away and regarded the shepherd. Maybe that was why he tasted so sweet, because he’d a stronger life essence than most. She’d made a Rabisu before, but Agis the beautiful young man she’d created years ago, was now travelling by himself. So she could quite happily create another, especially as she didn’t really like living alone.

  If she melded him then she could taste this young man for as long as they both existed. He wasn’t beautiful, in fact he was very plain, but that wouldn’t matter in time. As the meld progressed his features would change as he became fully Rabisu. The realisation that she’d only have to put up with his ugliness for a short while decided her. She’d grant him immortality and allow him to share her life, as he clearly didn’t want to die.

  She turned him around so that his back was to her and pulled his other arm behind him then held him securely out in front of her. He was still dormant but that was receding fast, soon he’d be struggling. But she had time to do what she needed to do.

  Shelpa closed her eyes and concentrated. After a few moments she opened them again. Now her vision was slightly out of synch with the world around them. The forest was still there but it was transparent, only half materialised. Surrounding them instead was a barren desert, filled with rocky outcrops every few metres. This was the land of Kur, or Tartarus, if you were Greek, but it easily translated in all languages as Hell, the place where the damned were condemned for all eternity without shape or hope. The one chance they had was to win possession of a half-empty host body, like the one on offer today.

  They were standing on a rocky outcrop much like any other, but there was no sign of life in this deserted place. No evidence yet of the Lost who were condemned to wander here. As she expected, the shepherd was beginning to struggle. She didn’t have much time now, so she thrust him away from her so that he was leaning out over the desert floor. Then she let out a blood curdling cry to summon the Lost to the prize.

  Anxiously she scanned the desert, but there was still no sign of movement, then just as she was about to call again, she saw the first sandstorm in the distance. Almost as soon as she saw that one, another started and soon they were being buffeted and battered by the currents of air that surrounded them.

  Shelpa had to use all her strength to hold her ground and to keep the youth still. Gradually the lost began to congregate around him, and she could see his clothes and hair moving almost as if they were caressing and fondling his stricken form. She knew from experience that the fight would start when the different souls tried to gain possession of the body on offer here. When that happened she’d have to hold on really tightly.

  She held him securely as his body was buffeted and knocked about, then suddenly his head flew back and became rigid. A soul had won possession and was now pouring itself into its new host and in time it would merge with the remains of the shepherd still residing within.

  The other Lost drifted away, ready to fight another day for the next body on offer. Now Shelpa could relax a little; there was very little movement from the body, just the rhythmic swaying as the damned soul took full ownership of the inert body.

  She wondered what soul was claiming its prize. To win this contest it had to be a ruthless one, but whether it was murderer or an embezzler, only time would tell. Which soul dominated in the meld would also come out later; sometimes they blended perfectly, but usually one of them would dominate. She enjoyed watching to see what she’d created and it would be interesting to see how this young man developed and changed as the two souls merged.

  She felt the body sag as the transfer was completed. Satisfied, she closed her eyes again and willed herself back in the forest. When she opened them, they were fully back on the mountain but after the silence of Kur the cacophony of noise in the forest from the terrified birds was unbearable.

  Eager to be away from the clamour, she gently lay the unconscious man down on the forest floor. Normally she’d wait and take him with her, but this time she wanted him to come to her. She wouldn’t force him to leave his people; it had to be his choice and decision. He had to come willingly to her, aware that he couldn’t stay with them any longer. There was no doubt that people close to him would die, but it was a necessary part of the process, and anyway humans died all the time. Young Rabisu couldn’t help killing those they loved or innocent bystanders in the confused hunger of the first few hours of their new
existence. She remembered it well and had no regrets over what she had done and in time nor would he.

  Tenderly she touched his unconscious body and soothed his ruffled dark hair, then she gently brushed her lips against his to impart her final gift to him. This was her life force, the essence of the Rabisu which would begin the transformation and the merging of the two souls. Content that all was at it should be, she slipped away to wait further up the mountain slope for him to join to her.

  ***

  Tentatively Cimon opened his eyes. He had no idea how he had come to be lying on the forest floor. Cautiously he sat up, trying to work out which part of him was hurting, but strangely he felt fine. Better then all right, he felt alive and full of energy, which was surprising considering that he’d been on the higher pastures all day.

  It was nearing twilight and so time to be home. He looked around and called for Argus, but the dog was nowhere to be seen.

  The birdsong seemed incredibly loud this evening, and it was probably this that had woken him up. When he looked into the trees to identify which species were making the commotion, he found to his amazement that his vision was considerably clearer and sharper than it had been before. He blinked a few times in confusion and shook his head, but the effect was still the same. Maybe he’d received a blow to the skull – he’d heard that could have a strange effect on the senses – and so tentatively he felt for a bump but he couldn’t find anything. He knew that was a bad sign, but instead of worrying he dismissed it from his mind. What he couldn’t ignore though was his hunger, it was like a fire in his belly and he couldn’t think about anything else.

  Cimon stood, but almost fell over with the force of energy coming from his limbs. Automatically he adjusted his movements to compensate, without registering that he’d done so. He’d other things to think about now and that purpose was all consuming.

  Cimon approached his home as the sun went down behind the mountain and the valley fell into shadow. He could see Argus sitting outside the small hut that he shared with Calliope. The door was open and he could make out Callie preparing the evening meal.

  He could smell the food she was preparing, but there was another scent, one that triggered his appetite even more. He recognised it, but refused to acknowledge the intimate scent that he shouldn’t have been able to smell from that distance.

  As he came nearer, Argus stood in greeting and began to wag his tail. He smiled and called to the dog, then noticed as Argus began to limp towards him that he was injured and had a cloth wrapped around his leg.

  Suddenly the animal stopped, he looked confused for a moment, then his hackles rose and he growled a warning. Cimon raised his hands and called once again, but this time his dog began to bark at him.

  Callie came out of the house and quickly took stock of the situation. She called to Argus, who turned to her and took a protective stance between them. Quickly she took hold of the dog’s collar and pulled him still barking to the outside wall and tied him up. Cimon continued his approached but the dog was still growling and clearly upset.

  “Why’s he growling?” Callie asked as he took a wide berth of the dog and entered the house.

  “I have no idea. What’s wrong with his leg?” he asked in return.

  “I was going to ask you that. He turned up limping a while ago. I put a poultice on it and he seems all right. Where have you been? The sheep were back a while ago.”

  Cimon didn’t want to tell her that he’d woken up in the forest and had no recollection of how he’d got there. “I went back up to check for wolves. Argus had been agitated as we came down.”

  “You didn’t take him with you?” she asked, stirring the broth for the evening meal.

  “He ran off.” Cimon removed his overcoat and hung it from a hook. He was trying to keep his distance from her, because the smell from her body and skin was delicious. He could almost taste the salt on her skin along with the herbs and honey she’d used earlier. His senses were reeling and so was the fire in his belly, which was like a living thing with one all-consuming need, which was simply to satisfy his hunger.

  “Not like before?” she asked turning around, the worry evident in her voice.

  He smiled to reassure her. “No, not like last time.” He wanted to get off this subject as quickly as possible, it was making him uncomfortable. “What’s for supper?” he asked making himself go to her and stand at the fire as if everything was normal.

  She glanced up. “Actually, you can sit down. It’s ready,” she told him.

  Gratefully Cimon went over and sat on the little stool by the rough wooden table. He watched as Callie carefully ladled out two portions of broth and then brought over some spoons and two chunks of rye bread. Cimon waited for her to settle down before he began to eat; she acknowledged his patience with a small smile and a nod to let him begin.

  For a moment they ate in silence. It was the biggest meal of the day and the only time they could sit down together. “Is it all right?” she asked as Cimon tucked in to the food as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

  He smiled at her. She always asked this question and he always assured her it was lovely, but it was different tonight. He could taste the vegetables and the herbs, but it wasn’t filling him up. His stomach was full, but he was still hungry and could still smell Callie above the aroma of the broth.

  “I saw Uma today,” Callie told him, putting her spoon down. Cimon looked up. He knew what this was about and he would have to concentrate to say the right things as it was a sensitive subject. He finished the last spoon of broth and waited for her to speak.

  She watched him, and then spoke again. “She gave me some different herbs, the ones she said that she’d grow for us. The sort, she believes, that will help me to carry the baby.”

  Cimon reached out and took her hand. Last year Callie had become pregnant after trying for a child since their marriage. But for some reason the gods had chosen to take it before it had even been born. It was a great sadness between them, but they’d pushed through the unhappiness together and somehow it had brought them closer.

  “That’s good news. Do you want to begin trying again now? I can stay closer to home, in the lower pasture again, it’s not a problem.”

  She smiled shyly and nodded. “Yes, I think you should, especially when the moon’s waxing. Uma says that’s the best time to try.”

  “I’ll talk to Philo tomorrow.” He smiled to reassure her. “It’ll be all right this time. Uma knows what she’s talking about.”

  Suddenly her eyes sparkled. “Do you want to try now? The moon’s right,” she said standing up.

  Cimon felt the hunger lurch inside him. Yes, he did want to try now. Maybe that was what he wanted, what the desire burning deep inside him was all about.

  He stood and wrapped his arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body against his. Her closeness gave some measure of relief, but the hunger was still there gnawing away at him. Callie locked her hands around his head and lifted her face to meet his. A wave of desire flashed through him as their lips touched and they kissed.

  For Cimon the yearning was overwhelming, it pushed past his senses and invaded his mind. Without knowing what he was doing, he lifted his hand to touch Callie’s face as if to cradle it. His actions were pure instinct, but as their kiss became deeper, he carefully positioned his thumb on her cheek, seeking the space between her cheek and jaw bone. Unconsciously he moved his other hand so that it was cradling her head. He gave no thought to his actions, this simply felt right to him, he wanted her in this position, and somehow it was important and more pleasurable for him that she was. Abruptly the hunger flared inside him, clearing his mind of any other thought except his overwhelming need to satisfy it.

  Without any understanding of what he was doing, Cimon forced Callie’s mouth open and pulled at her essence. She tried to pull away, but he held her still. At first nothing happened and he pulled again, not understanding but not questioning either what he was doing. Then
abruptly without any warning it came, streaming out of her mouth and into his. He pulled and pulled, overwhelmed and lost in the sweetness of the taste. Finally his hunger was being sated and it consumed his whole being. Callie didn’t struggle, she’d made another feeble attempt to pull him off, but he’d simply wrapped himself further around her. Now she hung limply with her arms hanging uselessly by her side whilst he took his fill of her life force.

  Cimon could hear Argus barking. The dog was a threat but through his pleasure he remembered that the animal was tied up and couldn’t do anything. Knowing this, he carried Callie to the fleece-lined bed and laid her down, savoring the sensations and losing himself in his need as wave upon wave of her life’s essence slipped out and into him.

  Suddenly he felt something rip into his flesh. He pulled away and saw Argus hanging from his leg. Somehow the dog had broken free and was attacking him. Angrily he swiped at the dog, knocking him away and tearing his skin in the process. He turned back to finish feeding, but the dog wasn’t giving up. It launched itself again at him and this time tore into his shoulder.

  Cimon heard himself growl and felt an animalistic fury at the dog for disrupting his feed. With a strength he didn’t know he possessed he tore the dog free and threw him across the floor. He continued to growl threateningly at the animal, which somehow despite the force of the throw was getting to its feet ready to come once more. Cimon swung around crouching low, ready to defend his prey again. The dog barked, but kept its distance. After a few seconds of staring, the dog lowered its eyes and slunk away. Cimon grinned in triumph and turned back to the girl on the bed. Instantly any other thoughts fled from his mind as he quickly forced her mouth open again and resumed feeding on the remaining life in her body.

  For a few moments he lay across her, gulping down the sweetness that was her life force. But the flow was beginning to falter and so was he. Something wasn’t right, his pleasure was waning and doubts were creeping in. He pulled away and looked at the girl wondering if she was dead. He didn’t think so, he could feel life still inside her, but frustratingly he couldn’t get it out and now he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to. Suddenly she opened her eyes, and looked straight at him.