The First Book of the Pure (11 page)

As the light began to fade from his eyes,
Karl whispered to Trina, “Lay my body in the far reaches of the
north cellar. Let no one know where I am laid. Make sure they know
I’m dead. Leave me just as I am, with my weapons and half the gold
hidden there. You’ll know the spot when you find the gold. Keep the
rest and live well for the rest of your life. Hide the room. I wish
to never be found.” He gave a convulsive gasp. “Swear it!”

Trina choked back a sob. “I will my love.
Trust me.”

“One last thing,” he whispered to her as he
held her eyes with his. “Whoever helps you take my body there, kill
them! Don’t trust them, lest they betray us both. Swear it.” His
head fell back and unconsciousness took him. She checked his pulse,
only to find the king was already dead.

Trina did as William ordered, and not even
his son knew of his final resting place. The eventual state funeral
was a sham, and used the body of another man. Trina was as
conniving and deceptive as Karl had been, and that was what he’d
trusted about her. First she cleaned his body of the blood and
sweat and dirt from the battle and his wounds. She cared for him as
though he would always be with her. After his body was prepared,
she enlisted a couple of servants, a man and her own maid, to help
her with him. She couldn’t have moved his body alone.

Trina may not have been a Pure, but she had a
heart like William’s. Together she and the two servants arranged
the King’s body appropriately. She gathered one of the two bags of
wealth she found there, and handed it to the man. “Lead us out,”
she ordered him. “You, follow,” she directed the maid. As he walked
toward the door she slid her long stiletto into his back, shoving
it deeply upwards into his heart. With just a grunt he collapsed,
and she whirled to face the horrified woman behind her. “You and I
must be the only ones to know of William’s final resting place. It
was his wish, even to the death of this man. You’ve served me well,
and will continue to do so.” She looked at the maid with upraised
eyebrows, awaiting a response.

“Yes, my lady.” She was terrified, but having
trusted Trina for the two years she had served her, she really had
little choice but to trust her now.

“Good. Pick up the pack, and let’s go back to
my apartments. As long as you serve me faithfully, you’ll be fine.”
As they arrived at her rooms, she closed the door and told the maid
to set the bag on the bed, because she had to go through it.

“My, but it’s heavy m’lady, I can barely walk
with it. What do you think…?” At that moment she died, Trina’s
stiletto driven into her neck, the point far into her brain.

“For you, William, my love,” Trina whispered,
with a sincere but misguided heart. “For you.”

England continued to know turmoil and strife,
and Robert settled down in Normandy, just as the father he hated
had wished for him.

Max Meets Robert

Robert enjoyed Normandy, and did fairly well
at ruling it in a broad, sweeping sense. Beyond that he didn’t care
to be involved with the politics of ruling nor England’s new King.
He, as his father, enjoyed the power, not the pomp and ridiculous
pageantry that had to go with it.
Therefore
, Robert decided,
I’ll ignore what I want and enjoy what I choose. After all,
Normandy is mine
. Thus he did a poor job of ruling, and his
subjects found themselves very low on his list of priorities, if
they rated being on the list at all.

He’d often considered the possibility that
Pures matured late, due to their long life. It seemed only natural
to him, and it would explain why he felt like he had a long way to
go to reach maturity.

One day as he sat at court a man appeared who
would change his life. “Hail, Robert of Normandy!” The impudent
visitor flashed him a grin. He was a solid, muscular looking man
with black hair, something of a pronounced nose and piercing
eyes.

“Do I know you, sir?” Robert raised himself
off of the throne and walked toward the stranger. He had armed
guards all about the room, so he felt nothing in the way of fear.
He didn’t feel much fear anymore, knowing what he did about
himself.

“Not yet my Lord, but you will, and I have
much to offer you.” He looked around warily. “May I speak with you
alone, sir? Take my weapons, and keep yours trained on me if you
wish, but I do need to speak to you away from any others, and
you’ll see why, when we speak. Perhaps an archer or two just out of
ear shot? I know much of your father, and share some things with
him, and perhaps with you. I’m a teacher, and have letters of merit
and recommendation for you if you like. I’ve been a teacher for a
very long time, and have taught in many places. Perhaps you’ll
enjoy what I have to share with you.”

Suspicious from being raised by a father who
sought a throne, and who never really paid much attention to his
sons until…still, he was curious about several things. At the top
of his list was to know more about his father’s background, and the
incredible claims he’d made. He wanted to know if he truly
would
live for centuries. He lusted after knowledge of his
own heritage, and desired to know every iota of it. He took the
stranger apart into a small room he occasionally used for private
audiences.

“Your name, sir?”

“I have several, but allow me to give you my
first, favorite and current one. I am Maximus Palamos, at your
service. I believe you won’t worry about my killing you, since that
would be a difficult task, would it not? Were you to be stabbed
right here and now, you wouldn’t die, would you?” Realizing he was
talking about his long life and ability to heal, Robert’s ears
pricked up and he paid much more attention to his visitor. He
allowed the private audience to continue, and learned far more than
he could have expected.

Maximus gave him most of his own history. “By
my reckoning I’ve lived just over ten centuries. I believe I was
born in, or close to, what you would call 40 AD. Of course I
skipped part of it, specifically the descent and fall of the
Empire. But still, a long life, eh?” He explained some of the
unique characteristics of the Pure: the way they could “skip,” and
spread their seed only to get the same seed born. Men could sire
boys, so he assumed, if there were any female Pures, that they
could only have girl children. It seemed a cruel twist of fate in a
way, but they could only give life to their own gender.

Whatever it was that gave them long life and
good health also gave them exceptional senses: hearing, vision, and
even their sense of smell was sharp. They were stronger and more
resilient than Normals, and had far more stamina.

After some discussion of Robert’s explanation
of his own healing abilities, Max told him a sobering truth.
“You’re likely the next tier down from your father. Your healing
abilities may not be as great as your fathers, and your longevity
may not be the same. But you are of the Pure, and you’ll live long,
and build power and wealth that come from planning and great age.
You could certainly live as long as I, or even longer, and I intend
to live a long while yet. May I rest here tonight, and tomorrow we
can consider some options, and plans for your next life, as it
were?”

“My castle is your castle for the immediate
future, ‘Uncle?’” He asked a question with that single word.

Max laughed. “Our relationship is certainly
closer than what we could have with these lesser beings around us.
They simply can’t plan far ahead, for they’ll not live long enough
to see great plans through. While it’s not their fault, it’s a
simple fact. They can’t enjoy the fruits of labor and long life,
for their lives won’t give them that. ‘Uncle’ it is then. I like
that. Let’s get some sleep.”

Session 6

Kenneth found his host enthralled by his own
rhetoric. He would go on for hours, telling his stories, including
the tiniest minutia, much of which was obviously his own personal
opinions
. I guess his attention to detail is to be admired
,
although I’m getting sick of all this
.

His host met him yet again, as he did every
morning, at the table. The coffee was wonderful, and Kenneth had
already had two cups. His host had explained that he served only
the best, which included the most expensive coffee in the
world.

He gave a prolonged explanation of how Kopi
Luwak was made. “It comes from coffee beans after they’ve been
eaten, partly digested and then excreted by the common Palm Civet,
a weasel-like animal. ‘Kopi’ is the Indonesian word for coffee.
‘Luwak’ is the local name of the animal which eats the raw red
coffee beans. The civet digests the soft outer part. The beast
excretes the inner bean, undigested. From that inner bean is
roasted this wondrous brew. It’s a bit like you Normals; now and
then one of you excels at something.”

Kenneth was a bit disgusted after he
understood the process. However, he still loved coffee, and sure
wasn’t going to turn any down that would’ve cost him over $50 for a
tiny cup at an exclusive cafe. His host certainly served great
stuff, not that any of it made up for the invasive act of being
kidnapped and hidden away.

On his third cup he was debating whether to
bring up his freedom again. His previous attempts had gotten him
threatened, choked, and dropped unceremoniously on the table.
No
,
let’s just allow this to take its course
.

“Kenneth, are you ready for the next
chapter?” His host smiled, beaming and ready to go on with his
never ending story. “Have you any questions? I’d be happy to answer
them now, as I want you to truly understand all of this.”

Not wanting to make this period of his life
any longer than it was going to be already, Kenneth hesitated to
ask much. He had a boyishness about him which had served him well,
but which did nothing for his host. He was making a story of it as
they went along, typing it out each night. “All right. Do more of
these ‘Pures’ hook up, or are these all individual stories?”

“Oh, yes, they meet. Well, some of them do.
Remember that there are probably more Pures undiscovered by us than
those we’ve found. My experience with them is limited primarily to
conflict. I have in fact killed at least one Pure. Hmm, I would
like to kill some more of them actually. As it turns out, they
don’t care much for me either. Not all of the people I’m telling
you about know who I am. They’ve not had direct dealings with me,
or haven’t yet put it together that I’m a Pure. They can be as
dense as you Normals at times. Ruby, for instance, has never met me
personally. Yet I know all about her from spies and investigators.
What I know of her is irritating, and I’m glad to tell you what I
know of her. She’s incredibly intelligent, careful, and usually
suspicious enough to be safe, but above all she’s a
woman
.
She has the wrong priorities, is too soft, and all in all is just
slightly more than a Normal. I’ve little use for her. Mostly I see
her as a rarity, or even an oddity. After all, she’s the only
female Pure I’ve ever found.”

Kenneth cut into his host’s monologue and
asked another question. “Are all these Pures really as vicious and
evil as you portray them?”

He smiled his humorless smile and brushed
back his blonde hair. “Evil is what you perceive it to be, young
man. I see some of them as weak, too interested in Normals, and
therefore less of a Pure than others.” He stared at the young
reporter in silence long enough to make Kenneth uncomfortable, and
then abruptly continued. “You no doubt see the weak ones as ‘good.’
That simply goes to your mind set as a Normal. Does Gheret giving
money to charity make him good? Does Ruby sobbing about some
child’s situation make her good? It makes them weak. It robs them
of the tempered steel they have at their core, and it makes them
like you.” He finished his tirade with a sneer.

“Today, as it happens, I’m going to tell you
about Ruby meeting another Pure.” He laughed an eerie, mirthless
laugh. “These two deserve each other; a woman who can’t trust men
and a man who keeps searching for his own kind. It’s kind of sad
when you think about it,” he said as he continued to laugh.

As his host laughed Kenneth pictured his
little girl, just four years old, and his son, three years old.
What was it that made Susie and me call it quits? To this maniac
my kids are just samples of a subnormal species. At least he sounds
like some of them, Ruby maybe, would see them as wonderful, the way
I see them
. He realized that this man made him miss what he had
lost, and that made it more precious.

Ruby’s Return

Comfortable in her loose fitting, linen
clothing, with a ruby colored sash around her thin waist, Ruby was
closing her shop for the night. Suddenly a man pounded on the door,
claiming a need to see her tonight.
Ah, everyone thinks they
can’t wait until tomorrow
. She was still as beautiful and
desirable as ever, and since she sold herbal remedies and holistic
medicines, people valued her opinions on some topics and other
things which they considered essential. She was used to this kind
of disruption, and was usually happy to help. She wasn’t
particularly worried about harm to herself, with her abilities.
I should just tell him that just because he felt urgent about
something didn’t make it her problem. But, business is
business.

She unlocked her door, let him enter, and
faced him. She was as charming as ever. “And how may I assist you,
sir?” He was breathtakingly good looking, tall at about six feet,
one inch, and seemed very sure of himself. She appreciated that,
since she had met far too many men that were easily cowed. Of
course, she had also met too many who were demanding and difficult.
Her good mood began to dissipate.
Maybe I’ve just known too many
men
. Still, she looked him over carefully, noting the slightly
darker complexion than most had in this area.