by Lazlo Ferran
“It would seem so,” Henry replied. “But I cannot help you there. I don’t know what Samael would look like.”
“And all this is in the basement of the Range?”
“Yes. I want you here until our guests have left. There may be some noise. Now, I will leave you to reach intoxication. It will be a few hours until the Full Moon so I will leave you to contemplate the words of the poem. I will come for you at the appointed time and if you are still willing, we will begin.”
***
The alcohol flowed freely and its effect merged with the dancing shadows on the ceiling from the raging log fire in that delightful plateau of consciousness that signals intoxication.
It never ceases to surprise me how different every woman’s hips feel when she sits astride one. I had noticed my breeches around my knees and wondered when one of the nymphs would take advantage of my erect happiness. A breast that had played across my face, its nipple looking for a suck, had suddenly withdrew and a buxom lass of Swedish looks lowered herself onto my willing, aching hardness. I took hold of her hips to help her rise and fall and the touch of her soft, downy skin was like the first touch I had ever had of a woman.
She moaned with feigned pleasure, skilful as she was, and draped the curtain of her long hair across my vision to tease me.
But I would not be content to have her practice a craft upon me. I wanted, not even art, but true ecstasy and I would have it, if only for the delight of seeing the wonder in her eyes. Tis true I have a touch of cruelty in my soul. I like to arouse women to heights they had only dreamed of, only to leave them wanting more, like the true actor that I am. While I worked on her, I turned to my friend:
“Zos, how are you faring with this dire distraction?”
“We both have experienced many women John. But I am still confused by the poem and this need for intoxication. Do you understand its need?”
“Of course. We need to be sated of this world before we can leave it! Everyone knows that Lilith is the greatest succubus; she has a mighty appetite for lust and will drain any man of his life. Resisting her will be the greatest challenge so we must be sated first!”
“Ha! You put things so well. But do you not care for the risk to your children?”
Zosimyache lay under the ministries of two slender brunettes and his mouth and ears were, for a moment, otherwise engaged so I waited for him to emerge from their tresses before continuing:
“I lied. Of course I fear for my children but that is why I am the right man for this job. My greatest fear is that my children will be without an inheritance; a debaucher like myself is always short of money. I don’t fear for my soul because it has long ceased to be of any worth! For the very same reason, I do not fear death either.”
“Ah. Well, at least you will have me to worry about, or else I fear you would throw your life away with such great ease!”
I did not tell my friend that I could not believe he would pass the very first test. While I had long ago lost the taste for true love, I could still see it in his eyes. I felt sure he would give into that particular intoxication and not retain control long enough to reach the labyrinth.
“We have both been drinkers for more than one thousand years!” he reminded me. “I won’t give into intoxication!”
I smiled and cast a half-lidded eye around me.
Behind I saw Henry, still in the room, but now seated upon a red chair, which itself sat upon a sort of dais, made of thick rugs, by the door. He sat rod-straight which seemingly enjoying the attentions of a stream of naked girls carrying fruit of various kinds. Every now and then, he would pinch one of their bottoms but all the while his blonde girl sat at his feet, her face pressed upon his knee.
“He really is a strange fellow, that Henry!” I announced. “I am not sure I trust him.”
“Why?” Zosimyache replied.
“Well, for one thing, look at him! He cannot relax and enjoy women. But there is something else. While you were asleep, and he had just finished the poem, I caught a look in his eye, as if he were hiding something.”
“Probably. He is a shy vampire.”
“Hm. I must be careful though.”
“You mean we must be careful!”
“Of course.”
***
The plateau I had found myself upon stretched deliciously out before me and I more than once found myself spurting that jet of life into the loins of a willing female accomplice. The Swede had been very pleasant but I required the services of a serving boy to complete her education.
“Quick!” I told him. “Do you have some of that laudanum? My mistress is waking!”
Elizabeth had twice opened her eyes and asked what I thought I was doing. The poem had evidently sent her off to Morpheus, she having a sensitive sort of mind, but now her jealousy wrought its wrath. She had seen me with women before and never been jealous, either of them or my wife but the sight of so many beauties clearly undermined her confidence.
One draft of the laudanum was enough to save me. She sighed deeply and nestled into the pit of my arm once more. The paintings of kings on the pillar panels around the room flickered in the red firelight, the faces seeming to stare disdainfully at me.
Now, there were two more curious points to note, as anybody who has attended such an orgy will have observed. The constant writhing of slippery bodies brings a comfort greater than any bed. Provided there is warmth and some amount of soft material besides, one remains focused completely on the erotic rather than the physical. Secondly, the ejaculations of so many privy members tends to make one keen to provide more of the precious fluid for the enjoyment of all. One feels the muscles of your loins straining to give rather than to take and this has to be the greatest treasure of sensual pleasure.
“I think it’s time you supped on Elizabeth’s charms,” I whispered to Zosimyache after he had climaxed for the first time inside a charming Baroness from the south.
I myself had already reached that innocent pass and passed straight through twice already. I had taken two bottles of fresh blood before we left London, two days before but I felt the need for such sustenance keenly.
“Elizabeth, my love; wake up!” I whispered to the sleeping beauty on my lap. I tossed her dark tresses between my fingers and raised her so that her carmine lips pressed against mine own. She opened her bleary eyes and returned the kiss lustily.
“What is it my love?” she asked.
“I hunger for a little blood. So does my friend. Would you mind if we took just a little drop from you?”
“What, your friend too? But this is not something you told me I should do!”
“Our tryst is not a contract darling. I did not foresee all futures and write them down. If you love me, then we approach each new experience as if it were a field for the horses of our spirits to conquer!”
“Hm. And where pray will you take it from?”
“Zosimyache; could you do with a little blood?”
“Aye, assuredly.”
“Then come and help me!”
While my friend busied himself with the tight laces at the back of Elizabeth’s bodice, I made sure to release it and the chemise gently so that her full and heavy breasts fell free without discomfort to her. When both were free and she felt comfortable, I began to lick her right breast to erect the nipple and draw as much blood into the female organ as possible. Zosimyache busied himself with the left and together we reached a moment when the blue veins in each breast were clearly pumping their fullest load.
I exposed my fangs and pierced her delicate, pale flesh, sinking their tips until I felt the warm spurt of blood.
“Ah!” I heard Zosimyache sigh softly. I knew that he too had reached a vein. Together we drained a little blood from her; perhaps a wine glass each. But in truth, there is no great artery in a woman’s breast and not a feast of blood to be had.
“We need more!” I declared.
Elizabeth reclined in a state of ecstasy, that curiously brought on by a vam
pire’s bite and I cast my eye around the room for another fruit.
Caroline, Elizabeth’s companion in the emerald green dress had arrived wearing a powdered white wig but she had discarded it since and her mane of flaming red hair caught my eye. Her bodice carapace had been peeled back to reveal a pair of rosy breasts to rival Elizabeth’s for beauty and a young Lord who I knew well had set to bringing a blush of healthy arousal to the muscles of her belly. I took some more sherry while I waited for his ministrations to end but before Caroline had been satisfied, he had become distracted by a Negress.
“Now is the time!” I told Zosimyache. “Follow me!”
But he seemed slow to respond. I glanced at him and saw that a sweet blonde, slender as a willow wand, had begun to ride him.
“You’ll need blood or you will never stave off the weight of love!” I warned him but he ignored me. I thought his lack of will regrettable and shook my head as I made my way to the redhead.
“Let me introduce myself. We only had a formal introduction at Black Friars!” I told her.
“But I know who you are sir!”
“Yes but now you can call me John!”
“John, I seem to have been abandoned.”
“Ney. I have found you!”
It is rude for a vampire to take blood immediately so I set about satisfying the poor, young woman. Indeed, it wasn’t hard. Her young body appeared soft but was firm under my fingers and her buttocks were the purest delight. I found my member ejaculating her praises in so short a time that I regretted not having roused Zosimyache to come and help me!
“No matter! Let my tongue be of service!” I whispered. “For it is said in Parliament that my tongue is of the greatest skill, if a little bawdy.”
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” she replied.
Suddenly Zosimyache reached my side.
“You are a little late!” I admonished.
“Sorry.”
“You to her lips and me to her lips!” I joked. We both set to work. I noticed that her skin blushed the deepest red at my touch; the sign of a healthy flow of blood. At last I relieved the poor woman of her Earthly burden.
To be honest, I had started to feel the emergence, in the flickering firelight and swirling intoxication, of that nether-light that all vampires inhabit, beneath our human lives. Everything took on the shadows of the spirit world and I probably should have stopped drinking but I took one more, large goblet of sherry. I offered another to my vampire friend but he declined.
“I feel the need of blood!” I declared, upon draining the glass. “Would you mind dear?” I asked, turning to Caroline.
“Oh!” she replied. “Elizabeth told me this might happen. I know little of vampires! It scares me!”
“Well let me tell you that not all vampires are bad and not all vampire bites kill. I would consider it very bad manners of any vampire to kill the friend of his lover.”
“But are you men or monsters?”
“Neither and both. Let me explain. Long, long ago at the dawn of time, some leaders of men were successful enough to take a diet of pure blood. It is very nutritious and somehow it brought changes in their bodies; better eyesight and hearing, extended dog-teeth and, yes, the ability to extend their lives by taking those of others. They were a super-species or rather a type of creature superimposed on man. If man is the larval state, then vampires are the butterfly that man can metamorphose into, under the correct conditions.”
“Oh. That sounds very beautiful. If it is just a little blood, you may take some.”
“We will take just enough to satisfy ourselves but leave you short of death.”
“We?”
“Zos and I,” I replied, pointing to my friend.
“Oh. Will it hurt?”
“No. You will feel a pleasure beyond all others outside Heaven.”
“Very well then,” she replied, reclining and closing her eyes.
I took her jugular vein while my friend took her femoral artery. Personally I don’t think the amount of oxygen in the blood makes a difference to a vampire but clearly Zosimyache had a different view.
We drained the young girl until the pressure became so low that she began to gasp, not with pleasure, but with her body’s distress, so we stopped. I had Elizabeth and her companions obtain food for her and bade them look after her. I felt at the peak of intoxication and ready for my challenge. I saw a look from Henry and he stood up.
I glanced behind me but Zosimyache had returned to the willow-slender blonde. Hand in hand, they stood and left for a bed chamber.
“I fear your friend has failed the test already!” Henry declared. “Follow me!”
“I feel ready? Is it time?”
“Not quite but we have preparations to make.”
He led me out of the Keep, along the Wall and into the Terrace Range, where we descended the scullery stairs toward the basement.
***
Just above the scullery, Henry paused on a landing and pushed something in the corner of a panel on the wall. The panel opened like a door and he led me by candlelight down a stone stairway.
The stairway turned left and ended in a small underground court. We were now under the south end of the Range, where I speculated there would be plenty of space for the Labyrinth.
At the end of a passage off the court, we came to an armoured door
“This is it; the Labyrinth,” Henry announced. He rapped on the door and his steward opened it from the other side.
Through a complex system of corridors they both led me until we reached a concealed door. Once through that, we emerged into a round, stone lined chamber. I had begun to shiver.
“This is the centre of the Labyrinth. From here, you will proceed,” Henry announced.
“But why a Labyrinth. Do I need to find my way in something that your father built?”
“It is just to put off the curious,” Henry explained. “You will notice twelve doors around the circumference of the room. Through each of these lays one of the twelve challenges in the enchantment. You can see that we have marked the door with the particular organ referred to and which beast we think you will have to kill.”
I turned around and noticed the doors marked with illustrations of a dragon, phoenix and chimera.
“It’s quite a list! These three in particular are creatures of evil cunning and physical might! Are these all correct?”
“The poem is obscure; some are simply our best guesses.”
A large, twelve-pointed star had been painted on both the stone floor and ceiling. I nodded my approval at it.
“Your weapons are all on the rack in the centre of the star,” Henry continued. “Once you enter it, you must begin the challenge and we must leave. If you succeed, we will return for you. Time is meaningless during the challenge for you so while it may seem like days or weeks have passed, even years, here it will be a matter of a few hours.”
I glanced at the weapons. I recognised a sword, mace and many other weapons I had trained with as a youth. The halberd wasn’t a weapon I had used.
“Is the halberd correct?” I asked Henry.
“Some of the best Hebrew scholars in the land have worked on this but the terms ‘Ax-kidon’ and ‘Pat-kidon’ have resisted their attempts. These are our best guesses.”
“Great! So I may not even have the correct weapons for the job!”
“Who knows how old is the poem and how great is the treasure?” Henry retorted. “Do you wish to take the challenge?”
I took a deep breath and turned my gaze to the armour that had been selected:
“Only a chainmail shirt, greaves, gloves and an open helm? The armour is light!”
“My steward is also a master armourer. He assures me this armour will give you the best chance against such a wide range of adversaries.”
I glanced at the steward and he smiled reassuringly at me.
“I accept!” I said, after another deep breath. I felt glad now that I had become so intoxicated.
“Ve
ry well. It is almost time. We will withdraw. When you are ready, enter the circle, arm yourself and take the first door, the one marked with the nose. The enchantment is engraved in the rack pedestal for you. Read it once aloud before you approach the door. Do not stray from the correct order. Good luck John!”
With that, both men returned whence they came.
I must admit, my hands shook a little as I stepped into the circle. Removing my wig, I hefted the first weapon; the club. It felt well balanced. I placed it on the plinth and put on the armour. Taking up the weapon, I crouched to read the enchantment once more and strode toward the door marked with a wolf.
***
Chapter Two
On the other side of the door, I found myself on a dead flat landscape of crisp, white snow. It looked as if I stood on a frozen lake. The still air carried nothing but the perfume of pine needles.
This could be Scotland.
In the distance, surrounding me, stood a forest of fir trees. Nothing moved. I heard not a sound until the screech of a far-off eagle. Then I heard it; a howl. The howl drew closer and I knew a wolf came for me.
I considered remaining on the lake but if a pack came, I would be finished. The trees offered better cover and climbing one represented a possible escape route. I broke into a run; dangerous in armour on a frozen lake or loch.
The howls continued to draw closer but when I reached the first tree, they stopped.
Instead, my attention became distracted by a curl of black smoke among the firs.
Somebody to help me!
I cautiously moved through the trees, pushing aside branches, until I reached the source of the smoke; a log fire in the bottom of a dell. Rough steps cut into stone led down to a circle of stones around the fire.
I looked behind me but could see no sign of the wolves so I leaped down the stairs. Behind the fire, stood a cave and a heavy brown animal skin had been draped across it.
“Anyone here?” I yelled.
“No need to yell!” came a reply and a small hand pushed aside the skin.
The most beautiful woman I had seen for a long time came out of the cave and planted her feet wide apart. She held an axe and had a fierce look about her. She wore what looked like a bearskin tunic, tied in at the waist with a leather thong, and her legs were concealed, from her knees downwards, by high skin boots. I have heard of Amazonians but never seen a woman so dressed. I felt tempted to laugh but when she sat upon a stone, with her legs splayed wide like a man, I felt aroused. This surprised me.
