I was shocked by this pronouncement. “He couldn't possibly have seen what he said, that's just ridiculous.”
Acenith turned to me, her face a mask of anguish. “It is true; it's what he said, in an era when people were terrified of the unknown and deeply suspicious of what they perceived to be witchcraft. What Marguerite couldn't know was that Father Jaquille had attempted to rape me a few weeks beforehand. He was a member of the Catholic Church, the highest authority in our small village and had taken a vow of celibacy. After what he did, he needed to get rid of me, for fear of what I would tell his flock.” She lowered her eyes, as if ashamed of what she'd admitted and I wrapped my arm around her thin shoulders, trying to offer the only comfort I could give.
“Acenith… I'm so very sorry. None of this was your fault, not any of it.”
“Father Jaquille told me what happened between us was my fault, I was pretty and tempted him with the sins of the flesh and he could not help but succumb to my temptations. Even as he attempted to rape me, he was muttering about it being my sinful nature, my witchcraft, which made him unable to resist the temptation to fornicate.”
“Bastard.”
Acenith's lips formed a weak smile. “Oui. He was indeed, a petit bâtard.” She grew solemn again. “But he was the leader of the community in our small village and his word was gospel. When the authorities came to arrest me, it was Father Jaquille who condemned me as a practicing witch and it was he who judged at these trials and handed down the verdict.”
“Couldn't you tell your family and friends what he'd done?”
“I did,” she responded simply. “They didn't believe me.”
I was too dumbfounded to speak, didn't know how to respond to her answer. How could everyone have believed the priest and forsaken the young girl? She'd only been caring and good-natured, trying to help those around her.
As if reading my thoughts, Acenith spoke again. “Even then I had the ability to help calm through touch, what I can do now is stronger, but it is an extension of my own human ability. People were so suspicious in those years, and hysteria grew daily over anything unusual or different. The church had proclaimed witches to be the work of the devil and they had so many ways of twisting the truth to their advantage. Nobody who was accused could truly protect themselves once the authorities had made the charges known. I was not the only innocent who was proven guilty, only to save the loss of face of someone who was respected in their community.”
“But that's so wrong.”
She shrugged, the movement offhand, as if to say there was nothing anyone could do to change the wrongness of the event. “Times have changed, my friend. People are more open-minded, far less superstitious than they were three centuries ago.”
I thought about this response for a minute or two before I spoke again, uncertain whether I should ask anything more or not. I wasn't sure how Acenith would take my questions, or if she would want it dredged up again. We seemed to have gotten off the track of her and Ripley, but this was the first time she'd ever spoken about herself with me and I wondered if she wanted to talk about it – and if it would eventually lead back to Ripley. She was usually very polite, so very restrained and I realized I knew very little about her that she'd willingly shared. Most of what I knew had come from talking to Lucas and Marianne and even then, it had been generalities. “I've read a little about what was done to the witches in Salem,” I finally said.
Acenith shuddered and her eyes took on that faraway look again, even as she squeezed my fingers a little tighter. Her other hand played with the braided length of her hair, which was lying across her breast, a nervous gesture.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything.”
She smiled at me; her eyes stunningly green as she studied my face. “It happened a very long time ago, Charlotte. In the modern world, I'm sure I would be told it was therapeutic to speak of what happened, but I've never found it easy to do. With you though,” and she squeezed my fingers again, “I find myself wanting to talk and let it out. I intended to only explain Ripley's reluctance to be involved with me, but somehow I find it comforting to tell you about my past.”
I lapsed into silence, not sure how to respond and Acenith smiled gently, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “You need not say anything, Charlotte. Just listening is enough.”
“I'm honored that you feel that way.”
“After I was arrested, I was taken to be interrogated by the authorities, which was a pseudonym for what they were really going to do. They wanted me to admit to witchcraft, which of course, I would not do. I had done nothing wrong; all I'd tried to do was help those around me. I wouldn't, and couldn't admit to witchcraft when it was a lie.” She sighed, brushing her fingers across her braid in a gesture that seemed to represent her anxiety. “They kept me in a cell and the first thing they did was have the Bishop check me for the witches' mark. I was stripped naked and he checked all over my body for a third nipple, which would denote that I was a witch. It was humiliating and horrifying for a young woman who had never lain naked with a man. Of course, they would use any mark on the body as evidence and I had a mole under my right breast. Once they found it, they were convinced I was a witch and then they resorted to torture to make me confess.”
I wrapped my arm around her slim waist, wanting to offer her comfort and winced with the effort, but I needed Acenith to know I was there to support her, to listen. If she could be brave enough to live through it, I could be brave enough to listen.
“They began what was known as the trial by ordeal by pricking; using a long, sharp knife to penetrate the skin. If you had an area that was pricked and it didn't bleed, you were a witch. Even if you bled from every place on your body, the accusations didn't go away. The next step was to burn my skin with red-hot pokers. If the injuries healed within three days, you were a witch. If it didn't heal, you were innocent. Of course, in my situation, I didn't heal, but Father Jaquille needed me to die, so each time I passed one of their so-called tests, he would find other reasons to keep the accusations alive.” She shuddered delicately, as if the memory was too much to recall and I hugged her closer.
“You don't have to explain any more, Acenith. Not if you don't want to.”
She took a deep breath and seemed to settle herself. “I will make it brief, for both our sakes. The trials continued for nearly two weeks, at which stage I was so close to death that I welcomed its embrace and prayed for it both day and night. When I still would not confess to my supposed crimes, they decided to move on to trial by water.”
“I've heard of that. You were thrown into a body of water; if you floated, you were guilty. If you sank, you were innocent. And unfortunately, you were dead anyway, in most cases.”
Acenith rubbed her hand against my shoulder. “You do know some of the history and you're right. I couldn't swim, most people couldn't. I was close to death, sinking to the bottom of the lake when Ripley rescued me.”
“How did he know about you?”
“I had met him once or twice in the village I lived in, on market days when I visited the stalls to buy our supplies. Of course, I didn't know he was a vampire.”
“Why was he in your village?”
Acenith smiled warmly. “He has never told me.”
My curiosity was piqued. “Maybe he was watching a certain pretty girl with very lovely green eyes?”
She laughed out loud at that response, startling me. “I think non, my friend. I think he just found it interesting to travel to different countries, meet new people. He never showed an overt interest in me, but he learned of my abilities with herbs and we discussed my efforts at healing. And besides, there were much prettier girls in the village. He could have had his choice.”
I didn't agree with her, but remained silent on the subject, hoping to discover why Ripley kept himself distant from Acenith. “So I guess Ripley could swim?”
“Oui. He knew I was being tried for witchcraft and seemed intent on rescuing me. He couldn't reach
my cell, but waited until I was brought out for the ordeal by water. When I was thrown in, he swam out and retrieved me. Of course, when he had brought me back to land, he realized how very close to dying I was.”
“So he created you?”
“Oui. Three days later, he helped dig me from my grave and taught me everything I needed to know in this strange new life I found myself in.”
“You weren't angry about what he did?”
“Non. I wanted to live. Of course, I had to leave my family behind, my friends and move away from Montsegur; but I have never regretted his choice.”
“Did you stay with Ripley?”
“For five years, oui.” The more relaxed countenance disappeared and she frowned again. “I realized almost immediately that I loved Ripley, but he kept me at a distance, preferring to treat me as a sister. After five years of such treatment, I grew tired of pretending and left him to forge my own life.” She sighed, twisting the braid around in her fingers. “I've spent the next three hundred and fifty years running away from him, only to convince myself we could have something more if I tried again, and returning to his side.”
“Why do you think he won't take that step?”
She gazed down at me. “He does not love me, Charlotte.” She shook her head, as though she was disagreeing with herself. “Non, that is not true. He does love me, but it is a brother's love for a sister. Nothing more.”
“Is that what he says?”
She smiled sadly. “Oui… yes. He told me we could not have anything more, because he is my creator.”
I frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe he wants something more, but doesn't think it's possible. What is it about him being your creator that makes it different?”
It was Acenith's turn to frown. “The relationship between a vampire and their sire is unique. I am Ripley's creation, but he feels guilty about it. He created me when I was twenty-three in human years. I am the first and only vampire he created. He had already been vampire for fifty years and he was thirty-one when he was created, so he feels he stole much from me. Not only my humanity, but I was still a virgin, I had never lain with a man. By creating me, he took away my chances for human love and children.”
“But you were happy with the choice, with him?”
“Oui.”
“So there's no… rule about a vampire dating his… creation?”
Acenith smiled at my abysmal effort to voice a question about vampire protocol. “Non. There is no rule.”
I considered the problem some more, thinking about Acenith's reaction to Ripley and in turn, his reactions to her. He was always protective of her, but she was right, it was innocent, nothing romantic in his manner or actions. “Have you dated anyone else?”
Acenith chuckled. “Charlotte, I've been on this earth for a very long time. I have dated others, yes.”
“How did Ripley react?”
There was silence for a few moments, before Acenith looked at me and I could see the surprise in her expression. “I've never dated when we've been living under the same roof. It does not make me comfortable.”
An idea was formulating in my mind and I let it simmer slowly, while Acenith went and got a snack from the kitchen. By the time she came back, with a plate of fresh fruits and more importantly, coffee, I'd come up with a plan.
“Acenith,” I announced, biting into a ripe red strawberry. “You need to date.”
“Is that not what I told you? That I need to forget about Ripley and go on with my life?”
“No,” I announced smugly. “You need to date so Ripley is aware of it. Let him see what he's missing. I think it will prove if he's truly not interested.”
Acenith considered the idea for a few minutes, her mind working as I continued to pick at the fruit on the plate. “You believe it will make him jealous?”
“I don't know. But you need to decide what you want. Either you hang around waiting for Ripley, or you prove to him that you're willing to move on without him. Then it's up to him to make a decision. I can't promise what he'll decide, but I think it will allow you to know, once and for all if you have a chance.”
Chapter 17: Recovery
Much recovered by the following Saturday, I was happy to be up and about for the first time in three days. Now that spring had arrived, the weather was quite glorious with brilliant sunshine and the hint of growth in the garden was evident as I came downstairs.
Lucas waited expectantly at the foot of the stairs and he glanced at my chest, visible in a low-cut turquoise t-shirt. “If I hadn't seen it for myself, I would not have believed those scars would heal so completely,” he commented as he drew me into his arms for a long kiss. He released his grip and ran his fingers over the rapidly healing scars, which were fading to a soft pink from the deep red welts they'd been a few days ago. His touch made me tremble a little with expectation, his fingers grazing the top of my breast.
Lucas had been teaching himself to cook and this morning he prepared bacon, scrambled eggs and toast as I watched on from the table. For a man who didn't eat, he was becoming adept in the kitchen and was proud of his increasing abilities. As he explained, although he couldn't eat, he could enjoy the aromas the food created as it cooked. He put the plate in front of me, along with a steaming cup of coffee and sat down to watch me eat.
I scooped some of the hot eggs into my mouth and savored the flavor, while he waited expectantly for a reaction. “Yum. I think you're a better cook than I am.”
Lucas grinned and rested his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together. “Considering you told me you ate out of cans for the past two years, I imagine that isn't as greater compliment as I might hope.”
“No, really,” I assured him, “I think you are better than me. Cooking isn't one of my best abilities.”
“After you finish breakfast, would you like to come out for a hike?” He glanced towards the kitchen window, surveying the weather. “It's a glorious day. I think if we hike up the mountain we'll quickly be above the cloud cover.”
I nodded, swallowing down a mouth full of bacon. “Is it far?”
Lucas shook his head. “A couple of miles. I won't tire you out. If you like, I can carry you.”
I grinned. “Sounds great.” I remembered the last time Lucas carried me, running faster than I could imagine through the forest.
He stood up, his eyes warm. “It's still cool; I'll go upstairs and get you a jacket. We can set off as soon as you're ready.”
I finished up, drinking down the last of the coffee quickly, as I was keen to get out and spend some time outdoors. Having been cooped up for days on end, the thought of fresh air and sunshine filled me with delight and I shrugged on my jacket before we headed towards the front door. “Where is everyone?”
“They're around. Ben is at work, he'll be home around three o'clock. We'll see them later.” He stopped on the gravel drive and turned to me. “Would you like to walk for a while, or will I carry you?” Amusement was readily apparent in his blue eyes.
“Hmmm. Think I could walk for a while,” I agreed, although I was looking forward to my ride.
Lucas caught my hand in his and we headed out past the garage, walking hand in hand through the short grass and on towards the river. Lucas kept his pace steady, matching the tempo of his footsteps to mine. I was a little apprehensive as we approached the river, wondering if we had to cross it, but Lucas led us along the rough pathway, turning left to follow the riverbank.
After a few minutes, he paused and put his finger to his lips, warning me to be quiet. Lucas pointed to a spot in the distance and following his line of sight, I discovered what he was showing me. A mother deer and two fawns, stood high on the ledge to our left. He smiled at me, enjoying the delight in my eyes at discovering the local fauna.
“You aren't thirsty, are you?” I questioned anxiously.
Lucas tipped his head back, laughing loudly. The mother deer and her fawns disappeared in the blink of an eye as the sound of Lucas's voice echoed up the hill.
“No, my love. And I would never hunt a new mother and her babies. We try and keep our hunting ecologically sustainable, we're aware of endangered species and only hunt creatures that are not in danger of extinction.”
“A vampire environmentalist,” I commented with a smile.
“Yes, I guess that's what you would call us,” Lucas agreed.
“What do you hunt?” I asked curiously, as we continued our gentle meander through the forest. “Do you have a favorite… meal? Do different bloods taste different to you, like I have favorite foods?”
Lucas continued to guide me along the forest floor, considering my question before he answered. “There are subtle differences in tastes. For instance, I prefer to hunt bear over deer, as an example.”
I shuddered at the idea of Lucas being attacked by a bear and then pushed the errant thought from my mind – I sometimes forgot the bear was in far greater danger than Lucas would ever be.
“I've frightened you, haven't I?” Lucas stopped walking and looked at me, a small frown creasing his perfect forehead as he gazed down into my eyes.
I shook my head briskly. “I'm okay. I think I'm coming to terms with the fact that hunting is as natural for you as eating a donut is to me. But I still think like a human – I'm more concerned for your safety – until I remember that you're far more dangerous to the animals you hunt, than they are to you.”
“That's true,” Lucas commented mildly. We walked on again, my hand clasped in Lucas's cool one and I enjoyed the milder weather of early spring as we strode through the forest.
“It is truly beautiful here,” I commented as we made a steady upwards climb through the heavy woodland.
“It is. I will miss living in Puckhaber Falls when we move again.”
Knowledge Quickening (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 2) Page 13