I was a king in Babylon 1/1
Disclaimer
Usual disclaimers apply. Forever Knight and the characters and situations
contained therein belong to Mr Parriot and Sony/Tristar. This is my story
and I claim copyright hereto. Archive rights given to Mel Moser for
fkfanfic and Cousin Mary if she wants it. Anyone else is welcome but please
ask first. Flames are not wanted but comments are welcome at
blot30@hotmail.com.
This story follows on from "Lucifer in Starlight" and it won't make much
sense unless you read that one first. There is a spoiler here for Ashes to
Ashes. The views expressed in the class discussions are not my own, nor do I
agree with all of them. Any mistakes as to history or legal theory are
mine. This story is rated PG-13. There is no explicit sex but some of the
themes are not really geared for children. Title comes from a poem by W.E.
Henley.
I was a king in Babylon 1/1
By Spike Shovelton
The following week Tracy smiled as she went into the classroom for her
evening class. This time she was a little early. Apparently she was not
the only one. "Hello Louie." She said teasingly, knowing how he hated it
when the others had done that.
"Do not call me that." Lacroix snapped and turned to study her.
"Lucien then." She watched him as he crossed the room to their desks,
admiring the movement of the muscle under the black silk. She dimly
wondered if all vampires glided in that way. He had no right to be so
appealing, not when he was also a pain in the neck, in more ways than one.
"Lucifer might be more appropriate. You would be perfect for a fallen
angel."
"Really?" His voice was amused and he looked at her. "Why do you say
that?"
"I don't know but my Sunday school teacher said that we should beware of
Lucifer because he was seductive as sin and pale as the moon." She coloured
at that, realising what she had said, and Lacroix chuckled at the admission.
She was a fetching little thing, and undeniably spirited. This could be
very amusing.
"I am flattered." She was interesting this one. "How is your police work
going?"
"Fine, arrested two last night for killing an old lady. If I could just get
my partner to do his share of the paperwork all would be great. Plus he
keeps dashing off with mad ideas. I wouldn't mind but we're partners. How
can I learn to be a good cop if he won't teach me anything?" She paused,
realising with whom she was letting off steam.
She did not know what the connection was between this strange vampire and
her partner, but it probably wasn't a good idea to criticise him. She had
worked out what Nick was a while back, and it did not please her too much
that he had kept it from her. She was waiting for him to tell her. She was
finding it difficult to remember not to protect him. Partners protected
each other, even at the risk of their own lives, but that was redundant with
Nick.
"Nicholas can be very irritating." She looked up from her papers and
nodded. "I find that chaining him up and then beating him with a riding
crop dipped in holy water makes him obedient."
Tracy found herself bursting into giggles at the image of her beating Nick
until he did the paperwork. "That's an image I don't want in my head." She
said as she fought for breath.
"Alternatively I sometimes add garlic essence to his wine, and occasionally
to his shower gel." He smiled. "Last month for example."
"So that's why he was all jumpy?" Tracy asked and he nodded. They traded
evil grins at the memory. Nick had been jumping out of his skin, it had
been so amusing to watch. Tracy had been killing herself over it. She
managed to stop laughing. "I thought he had ants in his pants or
something." She studied the old vampire. "How long have you known Nick?"
She asked suddenly.
"Since I brought him across." He responded and studied her. "I was unsure
whether you were aware of his true nature."
"He didn't tell me, I worked it out, and he doesn't know I know." Tracy
looked at him. So he was Nick's sire. That explained a lot, including some
of the subject matter of his shows. She had often thought that he was
specifically attacking Nick, plus Nick always took them personally. She
studied the other and opened her mouth to ask something else when the others
came in.
He looked at her again. She nodded and they switched to safer topics.
"Have you answered the questions for this session?" She nodded. They began
to discuss crimes and what constituted a crime and were talking when Malcolm
the lecturer came back into the classroom.
"Right then." Malcolm smiled at the class. Tracy noticed that Cindy kept
fluttering her eyelashes and looking at the old vampire. The cop knew that
she was irritated because she could never manage to be seductive. Plus the
fact that some idle society women annoyed her.
Whenever Tracy tried sexy and alluring it went wrong. She paid attention as
Malcolm began to speak. "I am going to read you a part of the diary of a
Roman junior officer on campaign in Syria. Let me know what you think of
the crime committed here and the punishment. When I have read it out I will
distribute hard copies." He cleared his throat and began to read.
"Then the villagers begged for mercy but the General shook his head. I will
not forget the sight of the General, standing in the sun, his skin tanned
brown and his hair bleached to almost whiteness by the sun. His eyes were
very blue, shining like lapis lazuli and his face was set. In an idle
thought I wondered how he managed to have avoided the scarring from
adolescent spots that so plagues the rest of us. His skin was as smooth as
the best wax writing tablets before they are first used. His eyes held no
pity, for what use has a soldier for pity?
We knew that he always delivered on his promises. He did not have much
mercy in him, our General. He did not mistreat the men, sharing discomforts
with them and not hoarding benefits, and they loved him dearly, but they
also feared him, for he would not tolerate lies and deceit. " The lecturer
paused. "The villager had been caught stealing armour and weapons from the
camp and spying. All of us knew the penalty for spying. When we arrived in
Syria the general had listed the punishments for different offences. We had
control of the area and we needed to keep the locals obedient to the power
of Rome." Malcolm paused for effect and then reached for his glass of
water.
"Well go on." Cindy said quickly. Malcolm sighed and continued.
"Then the General spoke. "Crucify him." His voice was not loud but it
penetrated through the crowd. He motioned to the soldiers and then turned
to the villagers who had assembled. He spoke in their language, in Aramaic,
so that none could doubt. His Aramaic was flawless and without accent. He
can speak Greek in the same manner, and even understands that impossibly
vulgar, barbarian babble spoken in Gaul. "This man has stolen from us and
that will not be tolerated. Learn from his fate that I will be obeyed and
that the Empire has no tolerance for criminals. Crucify him." He commanded
despite the wails of the women and children."
There was silence in the lecture theatre now.
"I will always hate watching executions. I am not a good Roman for I detest
watching executions, a weakness perhaps, but I cannot change that.
Especially I loathe crucifixions, one of the cruellest forms of death
invented. The blood that gushed as they nailed his hands to the beams made
me wish to be sick, and only biting my lip prevented it. It is odd how I
can kill in battle with no compunction, have lost count of the lives that
have fallen to my gladius, but I still feel sick at an execution. Perhaps
in battle it is fair and just. One soldier faces another and that is fine.
Yet an execution, even in the arena turns my stomach. I do not pretend to
understand it.
I watched him writhing there in the baking sun and wished that I could stop
it. As we watched, the blood from his wrists and feet dripped down,
staining the pale brown sand red. My eyes met those of the General's and he
studied me for a long moment, the corners of his mouth twisting slightly and
one eyebrow lifting in an elegant arch, drawing attention to his high
cheekbones. I think we stayed there for fifteen minutes but it could have
been longer. A crucifixion can last for hours before the poor bastard dies
of suffocation. I have passed on the road; men nailed to crosses, dying
slowly. I do not have the courage to lift my eyes from the road to see
their agony and I despise myself as a coward. It is one of the parts of
marching that I dread most.
Finally he nodded to one of the officers. "Finish it." His voice was
commanding and the other walked over with a spear and ended the torment. As
we went back to camp the General walked past me and studied me. "You will
learn that order must be maintained. The people knew the price, and would
have taken advantage of any weakness. Justice is absolute, Marcus, which
you will learn. You are young but you show some promise. Come to my tent
in thirty minutes. I have an assignment for you."
A faint smile crossed his face and I knew then that I would follow the
General to Hades laughing if he requested it. Much as I despised the
punishments, I accepted his wishes. For a soldier anything else is
unthinkable. "As you command." I said and he nodded. He knew that it was
his command that counted and nothing else. To us, the Augustan legion, our
commander is as a god. He placed the plumed helmet back on his head and
marched away. In that campaign over 200 men were crucified, and each time I
felt sick to my stomach. It was after that campaign that men began to call
the General, Lucius the crucifier."
Tracy turned to look at her companion. He turned to her and raised one
eyebrow. Tracy felt a shiver run through her at this gesture. Her first
thought was that it was completely impossible. He could not have survived
so long. Nobody could. Nobody mortal that was. As the photocopies of the
piece were handed around she shivered. She involved herself in the
discussion that followed and listened to the arguments passing backward and
forwards.
"But the peasants knew the price. Besides he killed him quickly." Cindy
said.
"That hardly makes it any better." One of the others said. "The punishment
was out of all proportion to the crime."
"It was the law of the time. I don't expect the native Syrian law was very
favourable either." Tracy interjected. "Out of interest, do we know what
happened to Marcus?"
"He became a senator and did quite well. Lived a long life and seemed to
have been happy." Malcolm said quickly.
After the class Tracy looked at the sky as she went out to the car park.
She did wonder about it. Although it was jumping to conclusions and it was
foolish of her. She stood beside her car for a moment not going anywhere.
"Lost in thought?" She turned to see Lucien standing beside her.
"Just thinking about Lucius the crucifier." She said and looked at the sky.
The slight warmth that she had felt towards him, while discussing Nick,
was gone. As she looked at him she sighed. "That was you, wasn't it?"
"Yes." He responded and waited.
Tracy had expected him to say something else and she sought for another
word. "You crucified 200 people?" He nodded. There was not much you could
say to that. Mentioning the fact that it was wrong would not have made any
difference. "I see."
"So am I going to get a very moralistic and dull lecture on how it would
have been better to forgive and forget, and send them all home to do
community service?" His tone was sharp. Nicholas had been very boring
about it for far too long.
Tracy looked at him and shook her head. That would be conforming to his
expectations and she did not want to do that. "No, I don't know all the
facts. One of the first thing they teach us at Police Academy is not to
rush to conclusions and to gather all the facts, all the background." She
sighed. "I may think it was very wrong and sickening but I wasn't there."
He was surprised. "So you would accept that I was simply doing my duty?"
He said and smiled. "I remember at Nuremberg that Goering said something
similar."
Tracy looked at him, knowing he was trying to get her goat, playing devil's
advocate in that manner, simply to see what she would say. She knew too
that she could not find an easy answer, so she decided to dodge the issue.
"You were at Nuremberg?" He nodded. "Why?"
"I was curious." He responded. "It was a fascinating thing to witness."
He shrugged. "You are correct though it was a long time ago. At the time I
was convinced it was right." He studied her. "I was no hero but then I
doubt anyone was. Marcus for example, despite his calm rationality and
dislike of executions was no saint." His tone was slightly irritated. "He
had a decided penchant for young boys of twelve."
"Then again most Romans seem to have been pretty perverted. All than
inbreeding I expect." Tracy said, wanting to get off this topic so she
could marshal her thoughts properly.
"You ought not to believe everything in the films." He said. "I don't
suppose you could give me a lift into town?"
Tracy studied him. "I suppose so, where do you want to go?" She said, not
entirely sure that this was wise. She was even less sure that she wanted to
spend time with him. It also seemed unnecessary. Especially given that
he could fly anywhere more quickly and easily than she could drive them.
"The Raven, I have business there. If it will not take you out of your
way." He wanted to spend a little more time with this lovely woman. He
deserved a little amusement.
"Nope. Oh rules of travel, no smoking, no cracks about women drivers, and
we do not listen to CERK." She said and he chuckled. "Bad enough having
one of you talking to me, I couldn't tolerate you and a recording of you at
the same time, not and retain my sanity." Tracy groaned theatrically and
Lacroix chuckled as she started up the engine. She wondered what this was
all about, why he wanted to spend time with her she did not know, but he did
not seem to want to harm her.
"In that case we will refrain from listening to CERK. Do you object to
classical music?" He asked.
"Not at all." Tracy turned the radio on and switched to a classical
station. The car was filled with the ethereal sound of Grieg's music for
Peer Gynt. The beautiful dance of the seductress Anitra stopped and was
replaced by something that fitted her mood. Beginning softly but growing in
menace and strength she concentrated on the music emanating from the
speakers. Listening to this part you could almost see the trolls and
goblins darting among rocks and capering in dark places. The Mountain King
had brought all his companions with him and the result was beautiful yet
menacing. That about described her companion too. It became faster, almost
surrounding them as it emerged from the speakers. As it reached its
conclusion and the piece ended she shivered. "Frighteningly dark isn't it?"
She said.
"He had an exquisite understanding of darkness, it permeates all his work."
Lacroix agreed, savouring the music.
"Do you think it is difficult for us to understand darkness?" Tracy had
never discussed this analytically with Vachon or anyone else and she was
interested.
"It can be. Too many fear it and fail to understand." He looked at her in
amusement. Few mortals understood darkness, but perhaps she could be one.
She was an unusual woman. He had seen that when he had come to make her
forget Javier Vachon. She had turned on him in fury and he had been so
amazed that she had attacked, that he had let her hit him in the ribs with a
heavy candlestick, spitting with blame and accusation. He had decided at
that point that she was his son's problem feeling irritation mingling with
admiration.
"I feared darkness when I moved to night shift. I hated the darkness in
part, until after my first case. I went home and stopped and sat on a park
bench and looked at the night sky, enjoying the quiet and the stars. It was
a very clear night and all of the stars were visible. There was a rose
still flowering, a large white rose. I saw that it could be beautiful and
that the night itself was not frightening. Some of those who use the night
can be, but the night itself is not." Tracy coloured. "Sorry I'm
rambling."
"I think I understand, it is very alluring." He said and smiled. "Tell me
something, are you afraid of me?"
"No." Tracy said and then qualified that. "My self defence instructor said
to be cautious and assess the situation but that fear paralysed. I was to
start with I think, afraid of the idea of vampires." She buried that last
word and he smiled. "Then I got to know them, Screed, Vachon, Urs, the one
with the come to bed eyes, you're all individuals and that helps."
"Come to bed eyes?" He asked her intrigued.
"Yeah, cute, English I think, dark hair, dark eyes, brilliant dancer."
Tracy paused. "Fee I think his name is."
"Feliks Twist?" Lacroix looked at her. "How did you know Feliks?"
"He usually comes over when I wait - when I waited - at the club for
Vachon." Tracy corrected herself, she sometimes forgot that Vachon was no
longer there. "He always buys me a drink and dances with me." Tracy smiled
at this. "He's a great dancer and so funny. He told me a load of tales
about Nick the Regency rake."
He was amazed, odd for a mortal to infiltrate so much into their community.
He realised she had said something else and turned to look at her. "I said
could I ask you a question?" He nodded. "You asked if I was afraid of you.
Should I be?"
"Yes." He responded and looked at her. "I will not kill you or voluntarily
cause you serious harm. However I am not safe company for you." He studied
her. "Do not forget that."
"With this evening's lecture it is difficult to forget." Tracy responded
and studied him, her mind returning her to the images summoned by the
lecture. He nodded. "The description was so vivid it was almost
disturbing."
"Marcus had an excellent talent for description. I will lend you some of
his works. I translated them some years ago." He looked at her. "I make
no apologies for who I am, or what I did. If you find that impossible to
accept then I will withdraw from the class."
Tracy looked at him in surprise. "No." She said. "That is not necessary."
She pulled up at the Raven. "We are here." She indicated that the matter
was closed.
"Where are you going now?" He asked her.
"Visit my mother, she's in detox, trying to quite the drink. I promised I
would." Her smile turned bitter. "Hell I don't know, maybe it will work
this time. I'll see you next week then Lucien." She grinned. "Have fun."
Tracy sighed as she poured herself a glass of milk. That was weird, hearing
about an execution almost 2000 years ago and knowing that the killer was
sitting next to her. She could well believe he had done that. He was a
ruthless man. Of course vampires killed but to learn what he had done as a
mortal was even more chilling.
How could someone who sat there and discussed music and gave detached,
elegant radio shows admit with so little remorse that he had been a brutal
killer, the sort who were condemned in war movies for excess brutality.
Then again she hadn't been there. It was a different time, a different age.
Did that make a difference? Should it do so? What was even more worrying
was the fact that she wanted to talk to him, that despite her revulsion at
what he had done he intrigued her and in an odd way attracted her also.
She closed the windows and locked them all. The problem with vampires was
not that they killed you, but that they raised too many unanswerable
questions. Well the fact that they tended to kill you could be considered
problematic too. She went to her bed. Turning out the light she lay in
darkness for five minutes before walking to her dressing table and turning
the lamp back on. For once she wanted to avoid the darkness but knew that
it would haunt her dreams.
The End?
1) The title comes from the poem "To W.A" by W.E. Henley. It just seemed to
fit with my mind. The verse goes as follows.
Or ever the knightly years were gone
With the old world to the grave
I was a King in Babylon
And you were a Christian Slave
2) The diaries of Marcus are my idea and no such person existed, to my
knowledge. The Augustan legion was sent to the middle east several times to
suppress rebellions. Crucifixion was a common punishment of the time for
non-Roman citizens and the details are accurate according to the documents
of the period. For an accurate picture of Imperial Rome I recommend
Suetonius's lives of the Caesars.
3) Goering and several other leading Nazis tried at Nuremberg attempted to
advance a defence that they were only doing their duties and obeying orders.
The court held that the defence of superior orders did not remove their
liabilities for the dreadful things done during the war and that the
individuals were responsible for what they did.
4) The Peer Gynt Suite of music was written in 1875 by Edvard Grieg to
accompany Ibsen's play of the same name. It is incredibly evocative and
beautiful music but also hauntingly dark.
(
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