My months in the vampire temple were eye-opening to
say the least.
It was as though I had lived up until now in a small, dark hole, safely hidden
in some pain-ridden dream-realm from the bleak truths of the world. Now came
the harsh awakening. The temple was dedicated to serving the Dark Gods as one
entity, and for the first few months of my sojourn, I was treated as the lowest
of the low, an annoyance to be suffered until they could reshape me to their
liking. I came to hate them all; priests, adepts and novices alike, for they
all treated me with the same aloof disdain.
On a positive note, I was healed of my wounds, the recent lash-marks plied with
poultices and sweet-scented oils that made my recovery an almost pleasurable
process. Even the older scars were slowly but surely removed,
though this, on the other hand, was a long and distressing ordeal of
which I remember little apart from the darkness, and the pain, the cold,
gleaming knives, and the philtres and phials of foul-smelling ichor. The results, however, were more than worth the
price.
From the moment I arrived, I was granted free reign of the marbled halls of my
new prison, and my favourite haunt quickly became the spacious natural spas
that bubbled and steamed at the heart of the temple complex. As I mentioned, my
former masters had never considered the cleanliness of their charges to be a
high priority, and so the first time my aching limbs met the warm, soothing
embrace of the frothing waters, I became an instant addict. However, my initial
cleansing was no easy task. Years of grime and dirt, oil and blood had
left both my skin and hair soiled beyond recognition, and so it was that after
several hours of dedicated effort on both my part and that of the adepts who
assisted me, I was, for the first time in long years, clean. When I had
been dried and dressed to their satisfaction, a looking-glass was made
available to me, and for the longest time I could but stand and stare. I
knew my own features, of course; but to see them thus, pink and shining and
aglow with warmth and life, was a tonic to a long-troubled mind. My hair
provided an even deeper surprise, as it draped itself in long glimmering
cascades of spun gold about my shoulders and arms. I was blonde.
The months progressed
and my treatment remained consistent. I was well-fed on meats and fruits
the like of which I had never seen in my long years in the slave pits, and any
guilt I felt at the fortuitous change in my station was assuaged as I convinced
myself it was all beyond my control. I was also given something of an
education, though this tended in the main towards the skills a woman would need
only for the bridal bed, and this, along with the practical instruction I was
beginning to receive as I entered my fifth month in my palatial prison,
combined to convince me that I was being primed for a specific role.
My days I spent in guiltless, opulent luxury, the priests at the temple aiding
me in honing both body and mind to the needs of some as yet unnamed new master.
I thought little of the fellow inmates with whom I had grown and suffered, for
it was a pleasantly simple matter to forget my past cares in the sublime and
enlightened atmosphere of the holy sanctuary. As my training progressed, so the
unfriendly inhabitants of the temple became more kindly disposed toward me,
until at last they came to treat me with a species of sympathy, underlaid with a deep-seated envy that I found impossible
to fathom.
At length, I began to wonder when my training would be complete. I had
exhausted the collection of written texts on the diverse methods of
pleasure-giving, and the priests had professed they could teach me no more
without despoiling the very virtue for which I had been chosen. Why then had my
intended host not yet claimed me?
It was this very quandary that kept me awake that fateful night. The priests
would not – or could not – give me a satisfactory answer, and so Sleep and I
were not the most intimate of friends that evening. As I lay restless,
aimlessly counting the ripples in the fabric above my head, it dawned on me by
degrees that I was no longer alone. The man's appearance in my chamber was far
from sudden, but nonetheless I was shocked enough to leap to my feet as I
became sure of the intrusion, my first instinct being to find some large, heavy
object – and hide behind it.
After a pregnant moment of the deepest silence, a calm and neutral voice, lacking in any trace of anger or displeasure, cut across the still air.
"Come out, woman. I'm not going to hurt you."
Six months of fine treatment, education and spoken truths could not erase the
twenty-odd years of lies and punishment that lay beneath. I stayed where I was.
"I am no priest. I come to seek your aid."
The man's statement was as vague as it was incredible. I kept my peace, huddled in a little ball behind the chest. His next sentence caused my blood to chill, and an unnameable emotion to course through my veins, enlivening every fibre of my being through the power of unpleasant memories
"Do you care so little for those you left behind?"
Guilt, so long the oppressed, surged through me anew and fought for dominance.
Images of my new, faultless and comfortable palace met head-on with nightmare
visions of the slave-pits, and at length, guilt won through.
The intruder had not moved since speaking, and so I
chanced to raise my head above the level of the oaken trunk behind whose stout
walls I was currently sheltering, ready to duck back down at the first sign of
trouble.
The uninvited stood in the centre of the room, his stature perfectly in keeping
with the deep, mellow voice in which he had addressed me. In the pale moonlight
that filtered through a crack in the heavy linen curtains, I perceived that he
was dressed head to toe in trous and shirt of a deep
maroon, overlaid with a fur-edged cloak that alternated in patches of olive and
tan. Were he standing in a leafy glade, I would not have seen him.
"Come out," he urged once again. "You have nothing to fear."
Was this at last the man for whom I had been trained and prepared? If so, why
had I not been forewarned of his arrival? Not wishing to start off on the wrong
foot if he were indeed the one, I rose, dusted off my knees and stood awaiting
his word.
The stranger was silent a long time. I could discern nothing of his facial
features, hidden as they were in the depths of a voluminous hood, but I could
guess at his expression from the pose of his body: the head tilted to one side,
the hands drawn up to rest on his hips. At length, he nodded, more to himself
than to me.
"I asked if you cared for the fate of your fellow humans." His voice was
without cadence, giving nothing away.
I stuttered a little, confused by this approach. I was expecting something a
little less subtle, if the Priests' tales of their vampire Gods were to be
believed.
"Of course I do," I managed at last, not even sure, in my own heart of hearts,
whether I was telling the truth.
The man snorted aloud. "You could have fooled me. It seems very much as though
you have already forgotten your roots. Look at you - a few weeks of comfort and
you have blithely forgotten your kin."
Much as it galled me to admit it, he was right, but I had yet to guess at why
he was telling me this.
"Who are you . . . Sir?" I asked using a generic title for fear of offending.
"A friend to humankind." The low, growling timbre of
the phrase left me in little doubt as to his true nature, and simultaneously
convinced me that he was not my intended.
As I pondered this development, he continued: "There
are those of us who feel the balance is wrongly weighted, and that it is time
for that balance to shift."
I swallowed hard, the revelation of his identity overriding my response to his
latest declaration.
"You are . . . Vampire, then, Sir?" Even here in the temple
the undead but rarely made their presence felt, and
in six months I had yet to come across one of their kind within the sanctuary
walls - until now. The knowledge chilled me.
"Yes."
"Then . . .forgive me, but I fail to understand why
you come to me with this talk of balance?"
I almost expected this creature, who, if popular tales were true, was
the embodiment of divinity, to remove my head
for my audacity.
He waved aside my question with impatience and crossed the floor towards me,
taking hold of my shoulder and addressing me in a fierce whisper.
"If we vampires bring humankind down to the last man, we condemn our own to a
slow, lingering death. And as for you, do you not care that your race will not
endure? Even now, the last pockets of human resistance are being systematically
eradicated – do you want to live to see the last days of humanity?"
Despite the fact that my shoulder felt as though it were caught in a frozen
vice, I spoke my mind, and felt the conviction rise in me as I said it.
"No."
"Then it is time to act."
Even as he spoke, I knew it was true. If mankind were to survive, something had
to be done now to curb the vampires' control of us before it was too late –
though what my intended role in this might be I could not yet guess.
Nonetheless, as his words infused me with new strength, and I knew
instinctively that this much was true: the worm would turn, the underdog snap
at the heels of the overlords, the scales tip. No more would we be the
oppressed.
It never occurred to me at the time that my recent life of ease and extravagance might have softened my perceptions of the true threat.
My visitor took a step back and released me, much to
my relief. I rubbed my upper arm to get the feeling back while he continued to
fill my head with his unorthodox ideas.
"You are in a prime position to help with the shifting of this balance."
"How so, Sir – if you'll pardon my ignorance?"
"You are shortly to be transported to your new home at the Turelim
stronghold,"
I caught my breath. The identity of my new master was revealed to me at last.
"While there, you will perform a function which, while
unenviable, will make you the perfect candidate for a certain mission."
"What mission might that be, Sir?" Despite my initial fear of the
intruder, the mere thought of an endeavour whose outcome could shape the fate
of humanity filled me with a species of dynamic motivation. I felt as
though I could accomplish anything.
He strode towards me once again, and I could feel the excitement that flowed
from him, as though electricity were surging through the cold air as he closed
the distance between us.
"With one act, you can strike a major blow for humankind."
His fervour was beginning to frighten me.
"What are you suggesting, Sir…?" Much as the life-loving half of me tried to
convince me I could live without knowing the answer, my curious half, my
reckless half, would not be suppressed.
My visitor inclined his head so that he could whisper in a conspiratorial
fashion in my ear.
"When you lie with Turel,
his guard will be down."
My mouth fell open into a little round 'O' of surprise. Although in truth I had
been trained for just such a purpose, no-one had ever actually mentioned my
duty in such a way, and just for a moment, it threw me. My eyes still could not
penetrate the dark shade of the intruder's hood, but his face was close to mine
now, his breath beating rhythmic and cold against my cheek. Something about the
situation was exciting him – and his excitement was contagious.
"When he takes you to his bedchamber, pander to his every whim; make him feel
safe in your charge; blind him with female guile." His voice dropped several
tones and became a hoarse and ragged whisper against my ear.
"Seduce him."
I caught my breath again as I envisaged the scenario. Even as I did so, I knew
it was possible - I had learned a thousand-and-one tricks that would beguile
and bewitch. My attention was brought back to my companion as his hand gripped
my shoulder again. This time, the chill was bearable, although it caused my
skin to erupt into gooseflesh. He delivered the final part of his plan in
a rumbling growl.
"Then slay him."
My heart was beating as though I had just run a mile. All the play-acting with
all the eunuchs in the world could not have prepared me for the intoxicating
proximity of this stranger and the act of heresy he was urging me to commit. I
managed a nod, and with some effort I stood and distanced myself from him.
He also gained his feet, his fists lightly but notably clenched as he spoke.
"You accept, then?"
"I do."
"For humanity," he breathed, seemingly overcome by some beclouded but
nonetheless virulent emotion, and made his exit.
"For humanity," I echoed in response.
A/N
Thanks to everyone who reviewed – I really don't know when I'm gonna be able to add more because *cringes* I already had this written, and I have no writing time when I'm not on holiday.
