So I had to educate him about the monthly cycle of the female reproductive system, how blood would issue from her sexual organ once a month unless she was with child, and that childbirth, too, would be a rather bloody affair.
“When the child comes, you must leave her to the care of her mother and sisters, and then come here immediately. You’ll have to stay with me for a while afterwards as well, I should think. The mother of your child will bleed for several weeks after the child is delivered.”
“Ancestors, they bleed an awful lot!” Ilio said with a nervous titter. It was obvious he was overwhelmed by all that I’d just told him.
“It is just the nature of things,” I replied. “Birds fly, fish swim and women bleed.”
7
Finally, the day of the wedding came, and the entire village, it seemed, turned out for the ceremony. The rite took place at the edge of the lake where meadow gave way to a swath of powder soft sand. The warm weather had lingered, though the sky was sodden and gray with clouds, rain’s moist promise, and the wind came whipping in from the choppy surface of the lake, wet and chill. But at least the sun was occluded, and my cheeks were clear of the tarry black tears that vampires weep in bright sunshine.
Valas had tutored me in the procedures of the Tanti nuptial ceremony for the past several days, and I stood with him behind the village shaman, who would perform the bulk of the ritual to bind our two children in matrimony.
The rites would be somewhat altered for this unusual wedding, as the gods of the Tanti were invoked in the ceremony, and there were many who believed that I was the physical incarnation of one of those deities, but it did not seem as though it would be a problem with the majority of the Tanti people. They had an abundance of deities, and they were not overly concerned with those they had not dedicated themselves to.
The shaman, a leathery old thing name Padtuk, invoked the gods of the Tanti, calling out the name of each one in the order of their rank in Tanti culture. The villagers, who sat in a broad semi-circle before us, echoed back the name of each deity he entreated.
“…And we call upon the god of the hearth, Moab, the goddess of the threshold, Anavetrazeesi, the god of tools, Heb, and the goddess Yenaulba, who sanctifies the food that we put into our bodies,” the old man droned.
“Moab… Anavetrazeesi… Heb… Yenaulba…” the crowd reverberated gravely.
So many mortals—I could feel them staring at me with avid curiosity! I searched the crowd with my gaze, taking pleasure in picking out the ones who bore the features of their ancient ancestors. There was the one who looked like my Eyya. She was sitting beside Paba, fussing with his clothing. There was a young man who favored Nyala, my second wife, and another fine fellow who had Brulde’s somber eyes. I spied yet another, a lanky woman, who had my auburn hair and long, narrow face. How many generations separated the two of us, I wondered, this long lost granddaughter? And what a miracle I had found her across such vast gulfs of time!
Babies cried and children ran freely through the congregation, some of them playing in the sand, as Padtuk continued to call out to their deities. Finally, he finished. Either he’d run out of breath or run out of gods. When his voice fell away, Ilio approached from the village, decked out in his finest attire. He grinned at me as he passed through the assembly, then lowered himself to his knees in front of the shaman.
“Valas, father of Priss, this man Ilio petitions you for the hand of your daughter in marriage. Do you approve of this union?” Padtuk asked.
“I do,” Valas bellowed, speaking loud so that everyone could hear him.
“The father of Priss approves of this man!” Padtuk cried. “Summon the woman this man would take for his bride!”
Priss appeared shortly after, escorted by her eldest brother. She was decked in a long braided dress, her features obscured by an ornate tasseled veil. At the sight of her, Valas’s wife and daughters began to weep inconsolably.
Ilio turned to watch his betrothed approach, his eyes shining worshipfully as she descended to the beach. Despite the flowing garments, her pregnancy was quite evident. I had not glimpsed her since shortly after our arrival, and I was shocked how big she had gotten with child. She looked like she might burst at the slightest misstep.
She made her way gingerly across the sand, Gibbus holding onto her elbow to steady her. The wind coming off the lake made her garments flutter. She pushed the tassels of her veil from her eyes so she could better make her way through the crowd, and I was struck by her prettiness. She was lovely like her sister, but her features were more delicate, gentler. Light complected skin, freckled cheeks with long honey-gold eyelashes perched upon them. Her hair had grown out since she escaped from slavery, and it curled at her cheeks and around her lithesome neck. Some of the villagers who had come to honor the ceremony reached up to touch her hand or stroke her swollen belly as she passed, and she smiled down at them.
Ilio stared at her fixedly as she crossed the beach to him, his eyes wide, almost frightened-looking. I knew that look: disbelief that such a woman might want him, and fear that she might snatch back her affection at the slightest provocation.
She took his proffered hand, lowered herself to her knees, her movements ponderous. I narrowed my eyes. She was so big! Too big to be carrying just one baby. I lowered my mental barriers and probed her body with my enhanced vampire senses, trying to ignore the scents of all the mortals gathered around me, the delicious odor of their bodies. Sights, sounds and smells assaulted my consciousness, but I narrowed my focus, concentrating solely on the bride.
There!
I heard the steady, somewhat anxious thud-tump of her heart, but below that, softer and more rapidly paced, two additional hearts, beating almost in tandem: tud-tud-tud-tud!
Twins! I realized, the wonder of it flashing in my eyes. Ilio’s betrothed was pregnant with twins!
I was so distracted I almost forgot my part in the ritual.
“Thest, father of Ilio, this woman Priss petitions you for your son’s hand in marriage,” Padtuk said. “Do you approve of this union?”
Valas nudged me when I did not immediately reply, and I stammered, “Y-yes…I mean, I do!”
“The father of Ilio approves of this woman!” Padtuk cried out.
The shaman called on the Tessares to bless their union, turning to the four corners of the heavens as he invoked their names: Great Father Sky, Tul, to ensure they coupled frequently and with equal pleasure, Great Mother Earth, Namames, to ensure that they had many strong babies, the goddess of the waters, Vera, to ensure they lived without strife, and finally the god of the winds, Thest, to deliver their prayers to the heavens.
All eyes turned to me as the shaman called out the name I shared with their deity, and as we had prearranged, I bowed as if to accept the shaman’s entreaty.
“Rise before your fathers, Ilio and Priss. You are bound now, one to the other, in the eyes of the people, and in the eyes of the gods.” And then to the villagers who’d come to witness the ceremony: “Let us celebrate this blessed union together!”
Twins! I thought with delight as Ilio helped his protuberant new wife to her feet.
8
“Twins?” Valas exclaimed. “Are you certain, my friend?”
I had just told him the good news.
We were in the broad avenue that marked the center of the village, standing near the cooking pits. Tanti men and women packed the boulevard from one side of the village to the other, eating, dancing, playing music. The women had put on their finest garments. There were contests of strength and marksmanship. Tanti children chased one another between the legs of the adults, their laughter and shrill cries punctuating the buzzing air. Though it was late in the afternoon, the wedding celebration was still in full swing. Had been from the very instant the ceremony ended. The frenetic activity made my senses reel, but I was enjoying the festivities nonetheless, the sensual pleasure of all those mortal bodies pressing so close around me, their excitement and all the brightl
y colored dress.
The trilling of bone flutes and thumping drums played counterpoint to the throbbing hunger in my belly. I would have to hunt tonight, fill myself near to bursting, or risk temptation.
I nodded distractedly. “Oh, yes. My hearing is quite sensitive. There are two tiny hearts beating in our daughter’s belly. I noticed during the ceremony.”
“The gods do favor this union then!” Valas laughed. “I had my doubts, but there can be no question now! We are twice blessed, Brother. Have you told the children yet?”
“Not yet. I’ve barely seen them,” I answered, scanning the crowd for the newlyweds.
“Let it wait then. These fools will drop from exhaustion soon enough,” Valas replied, a steaming hunk of venison in his hand. He began to unwrap the leaf the animal flesh had been cooked in, stuffing the hot, greasy meat into his mouth. “Come, Thest. Let us go and watch those wanton hussies dance. I think it won’t be long before they throw those skirts up over their heads!”
“Beware of jealous ears, my friend,” I laughed, nodded to his right.
“Wha--?” He whipped around with a guilty expression, but it was too late. His wife was already stomping toward him, storm clouds gathering on her brow.
“Yorda!”
“I heard that, you horny old dog!”
“I was only making a jest. Right, Thest?”
Yorda’s head snapped toward me, her fists sunk into the fat of her hips. I tried to blunt her wrath. “Only a joke, Yorda. You know how tongues wag.”
“It’s not his tongue I’m worried about!” Yorda growled.
It was obvious the happy couple needed a moment or two of privacy. Yorda was already beating her fists against his chest. I bid the stammering Valas a sympathetic good-bye and pressed through the crowd in search of Ilio and his new bride.
I found them near the boy’s new lodge, accepting gifts from cheerful well-wishers. Priss was sitting on a low wooden bench, cradling her stomach, weary but happy. Ilio stood attentively at her side, looking after her needs.
They seemed relieved when I asked to speak to them alone, and we walked a short distance away, Priss limping a little, her feet swollen. Ilio held her by the elbow.
In a quiet alleyway between a couple homes, I embraced them both and told them how happy I was for them.
“I have tidings which I trust you’ll both find joyous,” I said. I was quivering with excitement. “I have been meaning to tell you all morning, only I have not had the chance.”
“What is it, Father?” Ilio asked.
They were stunned. Ilio dropped to his knees to listen to her swollen belly. “It’s true!” Ilio gasped after a moment. “It is hard to hear it because their hearts beat almost as one, but there are two babies growing inside your womb, wife!”
Priss’s eyes glimmered with tears as she stared down at her stomach. “Oh, Ilio--!” she sobbed. “It is too good to be true! If one of the babies is a girl, let me name it after my sister, Aioa!”
“Of course!”
Priss smiled up at me. “And if a boy, we should name him Tu’Thest, in honor of our deliverer!”
The prefix “tu” meant “small” in the Tanti language. It was their way of naming someone “junior”.
The Tanti didn’t kiss as modern people do, pressing their mouths together. They would have thought such an act unhygienic. Instead, she threw her arms around me and put her cheek to mine.
“Thank you, Thest!” she murmured in my ear. “This is the most wonderful gift of all!”
Her flesh felt so soft and warm against mine. I could feel the heat of her blood as it coursed just below the surface of her skin. It made the hunger leap inside my belly, but I thrust the monster back inside its cave and rolled a stone in front of it, horrified by my instinctual reaction.
Have you no shame, monster? I berated myself.
I embraced Ilio again and told them they could find me in my lodge if they needed me further today. “I am going to my bed. It has been a long day and I am weary to my bones.”
“I understand, Father.”
“I will see you—“ I almost said “tonight”, but of course, I would not have his company tonight. Tonight, he would retire to his new home, and to the care of his new bride. Perhaps he would join me for the hunt, I thought, but I did not put the question to him. I did not want the boy to feel torn between us. I smiled at them awkwardly, then bowed and walked away.
9
I took the long way around the village, hoping to avoid the boisterous crowd. I really was weary to the bones, and the daylight was making my head ache, despite the overcast sky. Behind one of the huts, a mangy-looking mongrel was scrounging through castoffs. He looked so skinny and forlorn, I instantly took pity on the animal. “Here, boy,” I called, kneeling down. The mongrel jumped in surprise at the sound of my voice and pelted away down the alley, tail tucked between his legs, scraps forgotten.
I rose with a faint frown, looking after the animal for a moment or two, then continued to my hut.
The dark inside was a relief to my stinging eyes. I felt the tension drain out of my neck and shoulders. At last-- rest! I built up the fire in my hearth until my little lodge was hot enough to roast meat, and then I undressed and slipped into the soft embrace of my sleeping furs, rolling up in them, wiggling around until I’d found the most comfortable spot in which to lie. My own flesh felt cold and foreign to me. And heavy. So heavy.
Listening to the drums banging outside in the avenue, the laughter and loud conversations of the celebrants, the trilling of the flutes, I closed my eyes and gave up the mortal world.
It was like skidding down a dark passage.
I had two dreams that afternoon.
In the first, I was standing at the edge of an icy crevasse, the whole world stretched out around me-- the mountains of my native land, the vast flat plains beyond, caught in winter’s white teeth. Bitter gales buffeted my body, whipping my clothes, making my hair billow like the tentacles of a sea creature. I was staring into the jagged maw of the creaking abyss, thinking, This will end it, surely. Please, ancestors, let this end it! I cannot stand this loneliness anymore. Everyone I love is dead and gone.
As I stared into that dark maw, squinting in the blasting wind, I realized there was someone standing beside me.
I knew who it was before I even looked up.
Brulde--!
We faced one another, two fleas perched upon the back of an icy leviathan. My lifelong companion. Brulde regarded me with pitiless eyes, silent and grim. His curling blond hair lifted and fell. His beard had frosted over, icicles depending from his scruffy chin. A lifetime of memories streaked across the dark walls of my mind-- the boy, the father, the old man. I wanted to reach out to him, but I held back, fearful, though I could not articulate the reason why I should feel that way. Suddenly, his lips split open, a leering grin, revealing a pair of curving, wolf-like fangs. “Jump!” he snarled, and I came awake in my lodge, biting back a cry.
A dream! Just a dream.
I closed my eyes and drifted off again.
In the second dream, I was in some unfamiliar forest. It was night. Pale moonlight filtered through a lattice of bare tree limbs.
I was not alone.
Something smooth and cold caressed my upper arms. Fingers, delicate and thin. The palm of a hand. I felt breasts-- small, round, firm—press against the middle of my back. And then a woman’s voice, purring with amusement… or perhaps contempt.
“Surrender to me, beautiful one,” the unseen woman murmured, and I wanted to obey her. With all my soul, I wanted to submit to her. To that husky, purring voice. “Surrender,” she said, “and I will let him live…”
I awoke, the touch of my dream seductress lingering on my flesh. I was staring at the roof of my hut, watching the shadows twitch between the beams of the roof in the low red light of the hearth. The village was silent, the flash of the sun absent now from all the little chinks in the roof and walls. Night had come. All the day’s c
elebrants had retired to their beds in exhaustion.
I rose, my belly clamoring for sustenance.
To the hunt.
“Well, hello there!” I said, looking down with a bemused expression.
My cock stood out rigidly from the fuzz of my lower abdomen, a pale and turgid cucumber.
“What’s aroused you from hibernation?”
When I was a mortal man, my organ had always awakened before I. It had every morning I can recall from the day that I became a man. So dependable was it, in fact, my mates had nicknamed it “the daily prod”. Not so once I became a cold-blooded immortal, but don’t think the male organ merely ornamental after a man is made into a vampire. Even the undead can be enflamed by passionate feelings. Still, it was uncommon to awake in such a state now, and I wondered at the dream that had stirred the sleeping beast.
It was easy enough to recall the dream’s particulars. I always remembered my dreams. The husky purr of the unseen temptress. The soft press of her breasts against my back. My recollection was so vivid that my cock stiffened even further.
This was certainly strange!
Because I was alone, I gave the proboscis a experimental clout. It bobbed up and down a couple times as if sniffing at the air, and a tingle of pleasure rippled throughout my body.
“Just a dream, my friend. We have no lover in whose embrace we may retreat.” Not without a twinge of disappointment.
Leave it alone and it will go away, I counseled myself. It is time to feed.
I did not dress. I did not want my garments to get bloodied or torn. Besides, it was not nearly cold enough outside to be bothersome to me.
Slipping out my door into the darkness, I considered entreating Ilio to join me in the hunt, but I was reluctant to disturb him on his first night as a married man. Besides, this damned erection still had not subsided! I could not summon Ilio from his home in such a state. What would the boy think of me?
The Oldest Living Vampire In Love (The Oldest Living Vampire Saga Book 3) Page 19