Ancient Blood: A Novel of the Hegemony (The Order Saga Book 1) (11 page)

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I lowered my eyes and spoke the first of the lines Caroline had made me memorize. “My apologies, Majesty, for the lateness of the hour but my Creator has asked that I deliver a message and this poor token of thanks for your patience.”

Keeping my head bowed, I held out the bottle and he took it.

“Type O Positive female blood,” he rumbled, reading the label. “Pure Sicilian ancestry, seventeen years of age. Infused with Chianti Riserva, Nineteen Hundred and Fifty Two and chilled to the proper temperature, I see.” He paused for a few tense moments and said, “I accept your master’s gift in the spirit given. Perform your charge.”

My heart fluttered and I had to swallow again. “My Creator claims the personal debt she is owed.”

There was another silence, longer this time, before Draco pitched his voice low. “Enter.”

Because of its location overlooking the entrance hall, the suite is two stories high and seems cavernous. The darkness adds to the effect by making it hard to define where the space ends. Taking a moment to let our eyes adjust, my attention was drawn to the upper loft where Open Sores watched us. I had no trouble believing he could leap down onto us anywhere in the room from that height.

An Italian opera played on a record player. I heard the scratching of the vinyl as it echoed across the space.

Beside us, a heavy tapestry hung suspended on a rod between the loft and the wall, acting as a screen that divided the large main room into smaller spaces. The tapestry features a panoramic view of some medieval battle in which both Revenants and
Guaiwu
were participants. Draco is depicted astride a gigantic armored warhorse wearing a black suit of spiked armor and a helmet with demonic-looking horns. His eyes glow and fire streams from his gauntleted hands.

A large, ornate fireplace sits on the angled stone wall with a small grouping of heavy Mediterranean furniture. The blaze from the fireplace was the only thing illuminating the blood red walls. It reminded me of the sets in
Son of Frankenstein
, expressionistically imposing to the extreme.

Caroline and I walked over to the fireplace where, as per her earlier instructions, I remained standing across from Draco’s chair. Caroline took the seat beside me and we waited while Long Hair brought a golden goblet and poured some of the blood I’d brought for its master.

Draco gulped the Chianti blood in a series of enthusiastic swallows. Holding the empty goblet up for Long Hair to refill, he belched and pronounced it, “A most excellent vintage.” He looked at me with the roaring fire reflected on the lenses of his sunglasses and gestured for me to begin.

It seems like such a simple thing to do, just stand there and say some prepared lines but I’ve told you what Draco’s presence was like. Here in his rooms, it doubled. The stench of the Revenants permeated the walls, the furniture and the air itself. I became conscious of Long Hair’s bony, clawed fingers and how quickly they could tear my throat out. Above his head, I saw Open Sores hunched at the railing, bathed in the faint red light of the windows, also waiting for the command to leap down onto me.

Draco is famous for having people tortured or killed for a perceived slight. For instance, about twenty-five years ago, he had one of Julia’s servants publicly emasculated and then forced to eat his own severed organ for smiling during an apology. The unfortunate servant is still in Julia’s household and his service continues to be requested by Draco whenever he’s in residence there.

I really wish Caroline hadn’t told me some of those stories.

“Hegemon Draco,” I began. “I come bearing my Creator’s suit that you should, uh, recommend to the Ju—that His Exaltedness, the Judicis, agree to grant my Creator a private audience.”

I felt Caroline take my hand in hers and give it a reassuring squeeze. Her touch steadied me, though I didn’t dare look down at her.

Draco settled back into his chair, which for all its intricately carved wood didn’t look very comfortable. Long Hair stepped back to a waiting position at his master’s shoulder, still holding the bottle. Draco sipped from his goblet and appeared to stare at me the entire time.

“Should I provide my own reason for this recommendation?”

Unable to avoid a darted glance at Caroline, I said, “No, Majesty. If it pleases you, you might, uh, tell His Exaltedness that he has an ally he, um, may not have known of within his enemy’s camp.”

I’d been speaking corny, formal dialogue like this for years in role-playing games but never with so much pressure to perform it correctly.

“Don’t forget, I would prefer his recommendation not be revealed to be the fulfillment of a debt, though I doubt he’ll want to tell the Judicis that anyway,” Caroline said, as if Draco wasn’t sitting right there. I turned back, my nervousness increasing but the older Vampyr just waited as if Caroline honestly didn’t exist. Another of those would-have-been-funny-if-I-wasn’t-ready-to-piss-my-pants-in-terror kinda things.

“Also, if it pleases you, my Creator would prefer that your recommendation not be revealed to be the fulfillment of a debt,” I paraphrased.

“Say this to your Creator in my stead: private matters between honorable persons remain so,” Draco rumbled. “I shall carry out your Creator’s request at first opportunity. Mark me closely tomorrow evening, for if the Judicis grants the audience, then it will be I who will play escort. If I make no call for your service that night, then your Creator’s audience has been denied and I am relieved of my obligation. Do not seek to press me further, for I will not be tolerant. Be gone.”

I made a quick bow and headed for the door, never happier to follow a command in my life. Part of me waited for Draco’s voice to boom out behind me, ordering me to come back, or worse, to feel the clawed fingers of one of the Revenants clutch my arm because I’d committed some deadly breach of etiquette. But I made it to the door intact and, despite my writhing intestines, retained enough of my inner gentleman to allow Caroline to proceed me out.

Once safely in the gallery with the door closed, Caroline and I both expelled the pent-up breaths we’d been holding and threw our arms around each other.

“We did it, Avery,” she whispered, burying her face in my collar. “God help us, it’s begun.”

I just held her, not trusting myself to speak.

PART THREE

The Order has always maintained that it is better to control groups than individuals. Since humans form groups to control themselves and others of their kind, this is entirely logical. Also, powerful individuals are often unpredictable and defiant, whereas the reactions of a “herd” are well understood by the Vampyr. For example, the North American Hegemon doesn’t control the President of the United States; he controls the Republican and Democratic parties from which all presidents are chosen.

- Dr. Caroline Ludlow,
The Order: History, Structure and Purpose
.

From the Diary of Caroline Ludlow

August 28, 1952

I can’t believe it’s been almost three months since my last entry. Where to begin? Sebastian, of course. The tension between us has dissipated … for the most part. Sebastian says he has forgiven me for the incident with Mara and understands why I acted as I did but I know deep down he must still blame me a little for how it soured his relationship with Draco. Of all the council members, Draco was the only real friend Sebastian had. He always looked forward to those visits and though I was not allowed to take part, the time they spent together could raise his spirits like little else. Since Mara’s death, the struggles in Korea, Southeast Asia and Eastern Europe have intensified because of this new bitterness between them.

Sebastian is using this witch hunt for communists to flush out any spies Draco may have planted in North America and he’s forbidden me to take any political action, human or Vampyr, without discussing it with him first. I’m being punished for my mistake. Fine. If he weren’t so old fashioned about “a woman’s proper place,” I might not have been obliged to circumvent him in the first place. I’ll just have to be more patient in bringing him around. Still, as his Adjutor, I’m finally able to put all these years of training and observation to use, even if it is only among his Governors.

Outwardly Sebastian has changed very little since his “feralism” was confirmed last month. He’s still the same loving, handsome man I fell in love with. Sometimes his nails lengthen without his being conscious of it and he scratches a chair or a glass but so far it has been no more serious than that. The condition explains some of his recent irritability. He shrugs it off, though we both know it could prove to be a debilitating disease. There is no way of anticipating how it will affect any specific individual. Unfortunately, feralism is something Vampyrs simply won’t discuss openly, almost like cancer among humans. It has taken considerable digging just to find out the few scraps of information I’ve gleaned so far. Most of what I get is superstitious nonsense but it’s clear no cure is known. I’m ju [words blurred]

* * * * *

When we get back home, I’m going to make a thorough scientific study of his condition. I don’t think Sebastian would object. So far, no one but DeWinter and myself know of his condition, even the Vampyr doctor who examined him has had his memory altered and we have sworn to keep it this way for as long as is practical.

I know Sebastian is frightened, though he won’t admit it. Such stubborn pride! He’s become increasingly dependent on me to help him understand the subtle sociological, economic and political elements at work in his Domain and I know such an arrangement can’t be easy for a man like him.

I’m glad we’re almost done with our “progress,” as he calls it, so we can return to the island. Since we had to visit the Governors, while the mansion was being remodeled, we’ve tried to make it a kind of second honeymoon. He’s been more relaxed than I’ve seen him in over a year and has treated me as though he were courting me all over again. I’ve enjoyed romantic dinners, dancing, flowers and thoughtful little gifts, including some gorgeous pearls he picked up when we were in San Francisco. We’ve traveled all over the United States, Canada and Mexico and taken in all the sights and scenery that we can.

Thanks to Ash, the remodeling is on schedule and meeting all my expectations. Have I mentioned Ash before now? With everything else going on during those horrible few months, I may have skipped his hiring entirely. Sebastian’s new Dhampir and Bailiff is an exceptional soldier and security expert but what surprised me was how easy he is to work with. I’m looking forward to speaking casually with him once we get back but in the meantime, his detailed progress reports have been an absolute godsend in helping me relax! Most everyone we consulted said the remodel would take six months to a year, minimum. Ash brought in supervisors from the Army Corps of Engineers and presented a plan to have it done in three months. The mansion has been gutted to its outer stone walls and completely rebuilt from the ground up. Heating, plumbing and electricity will finally all be up-to-date and we’ve tried to anticipate any future expansion needs for electricity and the like, since it will be decades before we’ll get a chance to do such a major overhaul again. I’m glad though that we’ll be back to see the finishing touches installed.

I know he’s expecting me to redecorate it in the bright colors I like but I intend to surprise him by keeping it in his old world style. I can’t wait to see his reaction! The kitchen is entirely new with every latest convenience and I think he’ll especially love what I’ve done with our suite. I’ve apportioned a section for my office/study, so no more books and papers all over the bedroom but by moving Ash’s house quarters downstairs behind the security office, I’ve gotten back enough room for a luxurious bathroom complete with a spa-like tub for two. I can’t wait to try it out our first night back!

Staying with the Governors has been the price we’ve endured for all this. I thought I knew them well enough from our periodic dealings at the house but was surprised what time and prolonged association could reveal. Governor Garcia was gracious but clearly views me as no more than Sebastian’s mistress despite my position and hence, of no real consequence. De La Vega in Mexico was even more off-putting. His inferiority complex is shocking in its native habitat. As for the obsequious Jefferson Tumbridge, all I can say is that his “Southern gentility” became more transparently condescending with every opinion I voiced. I get chills thinking about how he must treat his women in private.

At least Executive Governor DeWinter was his usual genial self and I got to meet more of the family he’s so proud of. His Dhampir grandson, Jonathan DeWinter III, is especially impressive, having that rare combination of a politician’s smooth diplomacy and a spymaster’s cold, analytical core. He told me some of the most eye-opening tales about the founding fathers, the kinds of things they don’t put in the history books and he seems like someone who’s willing to work with me. I’m just glad he’s on our side.

From the DeWinters’ Maryland estate, we finally made our way to Virginia and Burlington who, as always, has been the most gracious host and friend. He’s still the only one of the lot with whom I can sit and have a simple conversation. These last weeks with him have been the most enjoyable, with the exception of the nights that his New York Reeve, Faolan O’Connor, was also in residence. O’Connor’s lack of pretension and “roguish” charm were enjoyable at first, even refreshing after so many weeks of pageantry but became boorish after a long time spent in his company. I suppose what made it worse for me, was that Sebastian and Burlington seemed to find him endlessly amusing, with his dirty jokes and underworld anecdotes. Sebastian, especially, laughed more those nights than he has in the last six months. I suppose I just resented being left out of their “guy talk.”

Well, dawn is approaching. We head back to the island tomorrow!