Inside the stone-walled great room of the castle the fire blazes brightly,
causing dark shadows to leap and cavort in the far corners. In the dimness
of the rafters overhead, the two ferrets lay curled asleep. Nunok lays
content before the door as Schezda restlessly prowls the corners of the
room.
Taking up the green decanter of redrum, she fills a gold rimmed crystal
goblet with the dark liquid. As the pale wisp of smoke floats above the
surface of the drink she tilts the glass, watching the play of shifting
colors; crimson red to ebony black, then a mysteriously shimmering emerald.
The Baroness turns her glance to Jacere, the twinkle again in her eyes.
She raises the glass in salute and sips slowly, her eyes never leaving
him. Peeking over the edge of the glass, she speaks lightly.
"Have you tried my redrum yet, Jacere? Tis not only a drink for Kindred."
Sensing his caution, she lowers the glass and looks to him frankly. "Truly,
Jacere. Tis rum, dark rum from the tropical isles. And the enchantment
of age old magical extracts."
Telsa refills her glass before turning to stand before the fire. Her dark
eyes glows warmly as her mind is cast back, becoming lost in memories.
She sits on the rug, her long legs curled under her. Slowly, she begins
to speak.
"The earliest thing I can remember is my mother, standing under the
enormous tree that stood before her window. She was painting, and I suppose
I must have been on the ground beside her. I can remember the colors...the
brightness of the picture, but not the picture itself. Later, I remember
her painting one of those two pictures there." She gestures to where
the linen wrapped paintings rest against the wall.
"The one of the wolf pups." Her voice begins to change as she
is lost in the memories, to become lighter.
"She painted that picture of the cubs and I as we played in the woods.
She took me there, and I played at being one of the wolf pups while she
painted!" Her voice takes on a tone of indulgent amusement.
"And from then on, when I could not be found anywhere else, I was
with the wolves.." She smiles and sips her drink, starting as another
memory comes.
"I must have been about 4 when she first took me into the woods to
gather for a healing. She showed me roots and seeds, and told me so many
things, I was near tears trying to remember. And she smiled and said I
had years to learn, just watch and remember and do as she did." A
sad smile crosses her face.
"And I did, so that I was the one who attended her when my brother
Nathan was born. I was only 5, yet I was more aware of my mother's needs
than any other that was about. My father had drunk himself into a stupor,
unable to stand the screams of her labor. And it took nigh unto 2 days,
when finally Nathan was born at the break of day. I remember My father
laughing when he was roused and I brought the child before him. A sneering,
contemptuous laugh that I did not then understand. My mother was weak,
and was never to regain her former strength. Thus, I cared for Nathan,
I slept in the nursery and carried him to the wet nurse when he awoke hungry.
I taught him, and loved him, and when he was 8 he was sent away to school.
And my father introduced the first of many suitors he found suitable for
me."
Her eyes glow with a moments age-old anger. Rising quickly she crosses
to the table and again fills her glass. Keeping the decanter in her hand,
she moves to sit on the leather couch, placing the bottle in arm's reach
on the floor. After taking a long drink, she continues, her voice thick
with disgust.
"And what suitors. None under the age 50, and a girl barely 13. They
were his cronies, his drunkard friends. And he would have taken the highest
bidder for me." She sits back on the couch with a wicked laugh.
"But, they found they had no use for a sharp tongued shrew who could
pierce their precious vanity with so few words. And they knew of my mother's
teaching. They dared not wed me and take me by force, as well could have
been my fate otherwise. They feared that they would awake to find some
magic more dastardly than they dare contemplate be fallen them." She
smiles bitterly.
"So, I remained unwed. The one who was doomed to be a spinster for
my wicked mind. And that suited me fine. I had seen no happy unions in
my time, my own parents tolerated each other, no more. I cared for my mother
in her weakness, and saw to the running of the house. And I was so lonely
with Nathan gone away. When all slept at night, I would creep out to the
woods, to run with the wolves under the full moon." Her eyes mist
as she sees the scene clearly in her mind. "I was out on such a night,
and crossed a poacher. I was still so young, and small. He had me before
I could call out." A shudder runs through her.
"Bound and blindfolded, he would have been off with me in an instant.
But then I heard sounds, the pounding of running feet, the impact of something
hard against something that cracked. As I struggled to inch away from the
noises I felt myself lifted up and then placed gently on my feet. The blindfold
was removed and I saw one who filled me with such wonder I could not speak.
His white hair shining silver in the moonlight, the pale cloak seemingly
translucent. I could not speak, and he didn't. Simply placed me on his
horse and led me through the woods, the wolves running alongside as we
went. As we were in sight of my home, I tried to talk, to thank him. He
turned and looked to me with eyes of the palest blue and I could only stutter,
a silly child. When he took hold of my waist to lift me down to the ground,
he spoke so softly, I thought later I must have dreamed his words. When
he said 'Take care, my child.' I was still standing as if in a dream when
he disappeared into the trees on his mount. Her eyes shine, lost completely
in the memory.
"The moonlight was so pure, so bright. I stayed in the gardens until
the sun rose that morn. And then I went to speak with my mother."
She sighs, her face aging in some way as she comes to the present. "I
told her of what had happened, and she cried. She would not answer any
questions, indeed, after she spoke she sent me from her chambers and would
not see me for a fortnight. She simply told me to stay away from the woods
in the night. And above all to never go if he called me. She was terrified,
what could I do but agree. I heard her whisper as I left the room, something
about it couldn't have been my father, he should have aged. But when I
tried to turn back and question her she simply bid me leave. When she died
the following year, I spent the night walking in the woods, searching for
some sign of him. But there was nothing, it was as if it had all been a
dream. Until the next morn, when I went to attend to my mother's chambers,
which were to become my own. I found the other picture there, and I knew..."
She looks to the linen-wrapped paintings that stand against the wall. A
single blood-tear threatens to spill over. She raises her thin hand and
impatiently wipes her eyes. Leaning forward on the couch she takes up the
decanter of redrum and pours a generous portion in her glass. Rising slowly,
she carries the glass to the shelf by the fireplace and opens a simple
wooden box. Searching its contents, she finds the small packet she seeks
and opens it. Removing a pinch of the ground damiana leaves she drops it
into her drink, absorbed in watching the fresh spin of colors. She turns
her head as she feels someone walk up behind her.
She sighes and turns to look into the fire. The age shows heavily in her
eyes, she has not hunt and cannot seem to summon the desire to do so. Turning
back to Jacere she attempts a smile, twas on one these "brave journeys"
that he made Jean. Kiros was enraged when I grew strong enough to resist
his call, and hurt to find the love of another." She walks to stand
before Jacere, speaking in earnest. "Understand, these are his words
of the happening, not mine." "Yes, we are of common blood. He
is not my maker, but the maker of my maker. And I have taken of his blood
and given him mine own." Her eyes take on a distant look as memories
flood her mind. She sighes again and looks downward. "Twas centuries
ago, yet now the time seems like yesterday." She pulls herself back
to the present with a physical shake of her head.
"So you would hear the tale, Jacere? The things I told Jean? Very
well." She walks to the table and refills the goblet with smoking
redrum as she begins to speak.
"You have not been told of my making, correct? Then I shall start
there. I was given this dark gift by my brother, who was thought dead for
over 3 years. I took it willingly, with joy, for he had been all to me
since the death of our mother." Setting the green crystal bottle on
the table she pauses, smiling in memory.
"I will not cover those years, they were happy and wonderful, spent
among the trees and oceanside. I was a girl of the country, Jacere. True,
my father held the largest parcel of land in the district, but I had never
been to a large city. I was enthralled by the tales Nathan told, but he
would not take me there. He said there was danger, and we were better left
in peace." Her eyes blaze as the crystal inside the bodice of her
green satin gown glows red hot. She slams the silver goblet down on the
table with a bang.
"But we were not left in peace, he was taken from me." She fights
back the rage that grows inside, knowing tis useless now.
"I lost my brother and my dearest friend Neron, sire to Schezda, that
day." Her eyes soften and turn to caress the wolfskin cloak that hangs
from a peg by the tapestry covered doorway to her chambers.
"And I could not bear to be in those places we had shared. I saw them
everywhere I looked, every tree, every brook. So we took our leave, Schezda
and I, and made out way to the city." She stops with a sigh and takes
up the goblet as walks to the fire. Turning to look back at the shimmering
image of Jacere she continues.
"I slept in the basements of abandoned tenemants, Schezda guarding
me by day. The castle was, as always, at my call. But I could not yet return
there, the pain of loss was still too fresh. One night I walked along the
riverside after the hunt. As I watched the full moon, Schezda's growl began
low and deep. Turning quickly,I saw him. He was tall and dark, regal in
his bearing. The thick black wool cloak that danced with the wind about
his legs seemed to beckon to me, to offer shelter. We went with him, Schezda
and myself, and I became his consort in the covenhouse in there. Twas Kiros
who gave me the title Baroness, in his court. Many years passed there,
but the hunters came and we fled in the directions of the winds. Kiros
was to find me again, we were to be together when it was safe. But he played
games with me, or so I believed." A moments confusion shows in her
dark eyes till she pushes the query from her thoughts.
"I used to wake at the dusk to feel his thoughts in my head, to know
that he was near. But he would not show himself. Just glimpses in my mind,
that sent me off to search for him in all the places we used to hunt together.
Then, when I was on the point of exhaustion from such constant chase, from
being always one step behind him, he would be totally gone. Leaving me
to return home to a gift left by him." Her eyes narrow and flash dangerously.
"He claims twas no game. That he dodged the hunter, one called Leleon,
bravely to come to me at times yet not place me in danger.
"Jean had heard both tales before she invited him closer to her campfire."
She shakes her head sadly. "Had I not been in this area, he would
not have come here and she would never have lost her mortal life. And that,
Jacere, is something that I will have with me all my immortal days."
The bloodtears, barely tinged pink, begin to shine in her eyes. "She
will not blame me and says that I should not blame myself." With a
bitter laugh, she turns back to the table for yet another goblet of the
magical drink.
"But to take one who does not know, does not wish it." She sighes
again and continues as she pours the drink. "He claims that he was
making her because of my 'betrayal', so that he would not be alone. But
this Leleon and his consorts came too quickly and he left her as... as..
I can only say 'bait', that they would dispatch her while he fled."
She looks to him and smiles.
"But you know that story, she dispatched the minion Leleon left to
do the deed. She is strong, our dear Jean. Strong enough to survive with
only the barest of his ancient blood to fight for her immortal life. And
then to rise up and learn of things she was not prepared to learn. I watched
their meeting in the mountains, through the eyes of Schezda. She called
him Father and left with him willingly, after taking the full portion of
his blood that is her due as his fledgling." As the Baroness looks
up he catches a brief glimmer of fear in her eyes.
"Kiros was always arrogant and demanding with those he thought were
less than himself. I believe that was something of what started his problems
with Leleon, tho I do know not for sure. He respected only strength and
power. But something in him has changed from the time I spent in his court
as his consort. This chase, I believe, has robbed him of a chance to learn
of the changes in time along the way. He is..." She breaks off, searching
for the word, "..he is... unstable." She shivers slightly, a
chill of the soul, as the proper word comes to her lips.
His voice booms through the room, dripping with sarcasm, causing the ferrets
to scamper for the shelter of corner shadows. "Such a touching story,
My Baroness." Schezda rises with a growl, coming to stand before the
Baroness as Kiros appears in the doorway.
She speaks softly, her voice filled with regret. "Kiros, please."
She shakes her head. "I am no longer yours. For centuries you let
me believe that you were pursued by the very hounds of hell." Her
voice turns sharp as she remembers the times he would call to her, when
she feared him in danger and would go, leaving wherever she roamed to chase
after him. Only to be left behind, as if in a never-ending children's game
she could not win.
"I was alone then, Kiros. For all those years I too wandered this
earth, waiting for your return. Searching for some kind of contentment,
if not true peace. And finally, in these mystical lands, I began to feel
that contentment." Her voice drops to a hiss as her eyes narrow, their
darkness showing a shimmer of red.
"And even then, it continued, the calls, the chase, the nothing that
I would return home to. After this, after knowing now you played games,
not only with Leleos, damn you, but with ME, why should I be called YOURS!"
Smiling wickedly, he circles around her, taunting. His eyes shimmer with
maniacal glee as he speaks.
"You would deny that you were _My_ Baroness? You, whom I took into
my court?" His voice drops to a growl as he continues. "You took
my offer of title, and my blood that went with it soon enough." He
laughs cruelly.
"Not at all like your dear departed brother. He required force. Like
Jean." He leers in the direction of Thedoric and crosses to the table.
As he picks up the crystal decanter of bloodwyne, it is knocked from his
hand to shatter on the floor. For a brief instant he watches, absorbed,
as the red liquid pools in the stonework mosaic of the floor. Looking up
he finds Telsa standing beside him, so close that he feels the electrical
stirring of the air as her rage is unleashed.
As she hears his words the room is lit with the brilliant glow of electricity
as a bolt of lightening breaks from the clouds. The air still bursting
with its crackling sound and ripe with the smell of burned atmosphere,
thunder booms through the castle. Her eyes glow red as the rage builds
forth and overruns her soul. Her hand slightly trembling, she flexes her
fingers, the long pale-tinted nails gleaming dangerously in the light of
the fire. Her voice is strangled, a guttural growl.
"Force? You said FORCE!?" Her voice rising into a scream, she
raises her hand to smash her crystal goblet in his taunting face. Before
the redrum has begun to spill over, she finds the smoking liquid splashing
the front of her dress as Kiros pushes her back onto the table. As he leans
over her, his face almost within touch of her blood red lips, she hears
him whisper menacingly " My Baroness, correct?"
[ Poetry
Corner ] [ Short Story Forum ] [ Vampire
Pub II ] [ Music Jukebox ]
[ Role-Play Forum ] [ Guestbook
] [ Other Links ] [ Return Home
] [ Credits/Copyrights ] [ Email
]
Copyright © 1996 -
1997
Created by 
Wolf
Pack Inc, Friday, August 29, 1997
Most recent revision Saturday, October 11, 1997