The Vampire Memoirs

by Mara Mccuniff

  I shook my head. "I want no debts to you," I said.

  "No debts," he said. "You owe me nothing. Here. They're yours."

  "Spend them on the festival," I said. Gaar sighed in frustration before taking my hand and dropping the coins onto my palm.

  "I wasn't asking for your money that night," he said. "I just… I just want you to stop running from me, that's all."

  "And what would you do if I stopped?" I asked.

  "Well…" he began, "I'd stop chasing you, for one thing. Then I'd like to take you someplace quiet, away from everyone else—"

  "What?"

  "And talk. That's all I want from you, Mara. I just want you to talk to me. To stop running and… talk."

  "Really," I said. "And talk about what?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "Anything. Anything you like."

  "We'll have plenty of time to 'talk' tomorrow," I said.

  "And then what will you do afterward? Run from me again?"

  "I don't know," I said. "I suppose I would. But I'm getting so tired of it all. Why don't you just leave me be? Why must I be a part of everything you do? You even got me employment just so I'd be near you all day!"

  "That's part of it," he said. "But then, you need employment as much as I do. I only thought—"

  "I'm used to getting it myself."

  "I'm sorry about that, then," he said. "But, um… you still mean to be at the stables tomorrow, don't you?"

  "Yes," I sighed. "Yes, I'll be there. But until then, I want to be by myself. I'm tired and I need to rest for the job. So I'll see you—"

  "Wait," he said, trying to move in front of me. "We really should be together tonight... that is, if only to make certain we both arrive at the same time. So neither of us becomes lost."

  I sighed and looked down. "I won't become lost, Gaar," I muttered. "And I will be there tomorrow, and we'll be 'together' all day. That's all you want in spite of what you say, to have me around all day, knowing I won't try to run from you? Well, you'll have that tomorrow. But I want things my way tonight, and that way means to be by myself. Will you at least grant me that?"

  I thought this time he would stay where he was when I left his side. He did stay in one place, in fact, only he was not silent about it.

  "All right, then, go!" I heard him roaring at me from the crowd. "Keep on running! Run from everything! It's what cowards are best at!

  I froze in my tracks. What was that he had just called me?

  "Keep running, Mara," I heard him calling still, his voice getting calmer, not to mention closer. "Keep running from everything! What better way to deal with your fears than to run from them, eh?" He was almost right next to me now. I stood with my back to him and clenched my fists. Then he pounded me on the back.

  "I asked you a question! It's the best way to deal with your fears, isn't it?" he roared, and I only gritted my teeth and shook with rage. There was a silence, and then Gaar ground out of anger, "Ahh, why did I even expect you to answer?" he said, to himself more than to me. "Why did I even expect you to have common decency and actually talk to someone in a civilized way? But you know why you can't?" he said into my ear. "Because you're a coward, that's why!"

  I whirled about instantly to glare at him, and I tried to speak, but tears were threatening to choke me, and I could only make a quick noise in anger before whirling about again to storm away from him. Gaar followed right alongside me, of course.

  "Yes, Mara, I said a coward!" he continued. "A cowardly, spoiled little she-wolf who wouldn't know a thing about human feelings if they stabbed her in the heart!"

  "Shut up!"

  "But would a stab in the heart help? No! That's because you don't have one!"

  "Shut! Up!"

  "No wonder everyone hates you. No wonder everyone spits at you when you walk by. Because even if they didn't, even if they tried to be kind to you you'd only spit at them!"

  "I'll kill you!"

  "You've already tried, remember? And when you lay on the ground, at my mercy, did I kill you? No! I bought your way out of jail!"

  Suddenly I found that we had wandered into a dead end, and I ended up walking around in circles, too angry, dazed, and confused to find my way back out. None of this seemed to bother Gaar, who continued his brutal barrage of words.

  "I was a fool to think you were even capable of gratitude! To think you were even capable of feeling! You're no warrior; you're a heartless monster!"

  "Shut up!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs before sinking to my knees in a sobbing, tear-covered heap. Gaar hovered over me, tall and dark, his verbal attack never ceasing.

  "When I first saw you, I thought there was something special about you," he said, "something spirited. I thought that underneath those men's clothes was the heart and spirit of a woman. A kind and yes, even gentle woman who only needed someone to look for her and bring her out. Now I know that I was a fool to think there was anything there. You don't even have a heart of stone, Mara; you just don't have a heart!"

  I reacted the way I always did whenever my father had yelled at me; I said nothing. However, Gaar had done something my father had never been able to do; he had reduced me to tears.

  "Why don't you say something, damn you?" Gaar demanded after some silence. "Why don't you just speak the truth and say that I'm right?"

  "I have…" I started, but was stopped by more tears.

  "Have what?"

  "I—I—" I said, but could say no more. Gaar made a noise of frustration and turned to leave.

  "Wait!" I called, and he stopped and slowly turned back around.

  "What do you want now?" he growled, which made me cringe, but I gathered enough strength to stand shakily onto my feet. For a while I said nothing, and could not meet his gaze.

  "Well, out with it," he said.

  "I have—I have feelings," I finally managed to say.

  "I find that hard to believe now," he said.

  'It's… Everyone has them."

  "Then why don't you show them?" he asked. "Or are hate, anger, and fear the only ones you have?"

  "No," I said. "Not the only ones."

  "Then what's the matter with you, girl?" he cried, making me wince. "Why do you repay kindness with hatred? Why do you run from those who only want to be your friend? Why try to kill me because I want to talk to you? Why? Why, Mara?"

  "I don't know!!" I cried out in a new burst of tears. "I don't know…"

  I turned away from Gaar, repeating my last words over and over when I felt his arms pull me toward him. Soon he held me in a full, tight hug, which I struggled against.

  "No… stop this. Let go…" I said, but he ignored me. Then I wrenched myself free and stepped away from him.

  "Don't—don't touch me…" I whispered. "Leave me—"

  But then I felt his hands again, and before I could get away he yanked me into another hug, this one much tighter than the first. New tears came while I struggled, only he put one hand on the back of my head and held it in place on his shoulder.

  "Shut up," he whispered. "If you struggle I'll kill you. That's all you understand, don't you. All you know is killing, and death, don't you."

  I said nothing, and eventually I gave up struggling and let Gaar hold me in place.

  "You must know there's more to this than killing, Mara," he continued. "You must know that—that a warrior isn't supposed to enjoy death; he's supposed to fight it."

  "I don't understand," I said.

  "No. No, you don't now," he said. "But I'm sure you will someday."

  After some silence, I spoke again.

  "You made me cry, Gaar," I said. "No one's ever done that to me before."

  "Well, maybe it's good that you did, then," he said. I looked up from his shoulder but still didn't meet his gaze.

  "Don't mock me," I said.

  "I don't," he said. "I mean, it's not good never to cry. You mean you've never cried before?"

  "I don't remember the last time I did. It's something only women an
d weak people do."

  "Whatever you say, Mara," he sighed. Then he let go of me, but I did not run from him now.

  "And what about tomorrow?" he asked.

  "What about it?"

  "Do you feel up to our job?"

  "Of course I do," I mumbled.

  "Putting up a front won't help if we're attacked," he said. "I said, do you feel up to the job?"

  I looked up at him abruptly, insulted, but I kept calm.

  "Killing is still all I know, Gaar," I said. "I'd worry about yourself more than about me."

  "Ah, yes," he said. "I suppose that's true."

  Somehow Gaar managed to talk me into staying in his room for the night. I think I was just too tired and frustrated to argue with him about it. He promised that I would be "perfectly safe" with him, which meant he wasn't going to try anything. Fortunately he didn't; he must have been just as tired as I, for all I got was a quick "good night," and then he crawled onto his bedding. I slept on the other side of the room.

  The next day we had a very small breakfast and headed for the stables. Arem was waiting for us there, and we put our gear onto his mule and headed off. Arem rode his horse while Gaar led the mule up front and I brought up the rear. The short cut was mostly through a forest, which might have been another reason people avoided it; there was always the threat of wild animals even if no bandits were around.

  We didn't rest much on the journey, nor did we talk much, and Gaar and I were much more tired than Arem, considering that we walked the entire way. I was also very hungry, and could hardly wait until we were paid so I could find the closest inn and eat to my heart's content.

  We were walking along an embankment toward the end of the day, and it was becoming quite dark. The shade from the trees didn't help our light much, either. I was beginning to wonder if Arem was going to let us bring out any torches, when I thought I saw a little movement in a distant tree to my left. The tree was above the embankment and at a difficult angle to see it clearly, so I stopped and peered at it as intensely as I could. I noticed that Gaar and Arem kept on going, but I ignored this until I could get mother look at the movement.

  It was a silhouette—about as large as a man, about thirty feet away from us, and moving very slowly and very silently. It moved what I was certain was an arm, perhaps for a weapon, and that's when it happened again. Before I knew it my dagger was out of my boot sheath, into my hand, and flying through the air into the bandit's neck. I heard a soft grunt and watched his silhouette fall from the tree. And it was only after all this that Gaar and Arem noticed something was amiss.

  About ten or twelve bandits were soon leaping from the embankment in an attempt to surround us all, but Gaar foiled that by slapping both Arem's pack mule and horse to make them gallop away to safety before unsheathing his sword and running to join me.

  Well, maybe he didn't really foil anything; the bandits surrounded the two of us instead. Gaar and I stood back to back, weapons drawn and teeth bared, hoping to size up the bandit's strength. But I was never very good at intimidation; that's something my father certainly never taught me. He was a berzerker when he fought, and as I mentioned earlier, so was I. I spent some time sizing up the bandits, all right, but I began the fight by roaring and throwing myself at the nearest bunch of them.

  To some extent the ploy worked, for they were hardly expecting us to attack first, considering how outnumbered we were, and no doubt they didn't expect a woman of all things to be slashing away at them like a maniac. I'm certain Gaar would have preferred letting them make the first move, but then there wasn't very much he could do about that now.

  I took out three of them before the bandits could even get their bearings. But once they recovered from my surprise attack, there were still at least eight others who we had to deal with. Fortunately there were only so many of them that could attack us at one time, and I believe there were no other snipers in trees. That, and the bandits were not used to attacking people who could fight back, so we were able to make short work of those who attacked us directly. Nevertheless, Gaar and I were quickly becoming exhausted from fighting so many at one time. I received several superficial cuts and one of the bandits succeeded in almost slashing Gaar's vest in half in a rear attack. I was relieved that it wasn't Gaar's back that was slashed, but, in any case, the man was eliminated long before he could dare attack again.

  And the next thing we realized, all of the bandits were either dead, dying, or had fled. We wasted no time sticking around to see if any of their friends would stop by, and, out of breath as we were, we raced into the forest in order to catch up with Arem—if he hadn't decided to run away without us.

  We were fortunate; Arem was waiting for us some one hundred feet away, in a small clearing near a pond. Gaar and I practically threw ourselves into the pond to wipe the sweat from our faces. But we couldn't rest, not when the bandits might be regrouping, if there were more of them. I could have slept forever myself, but nevertheless we both had to drag ourselves to our feet again and prepare to press on.

  Meanwhile Arem was rattling off questions about the attack. What had happened? How many were there? Were they dead? Were they following us? Gaar answered his questions politely enough, but he also insisted on our hurrying along and getting out of that forest. Arem was amazed at our proficiency at handling the thieves, or rather I should say at Gaar's proficiency. Again I noticed Arem's tendency to ignore my accomplishments, and he continually praised Gaar alone for his incredible defeat of the bandits.

  I expected Gaar to stick up for me and make certain that I got credit, too, but he remained unusually silent the rest of the way to the city.

  Chapter 3

  Although I had been in cities much more prosperous than Castrill, I could not say that the place was exactly destitute. Most of the homes we passed were relatively modest; even the places belonging to the rich had a certain air of frugality about them. The lack of any real night life also contributed to the frugal atmosphere of the city; the people seemed to prefer staying at home to squandering their money carousing through the night.

  We passed a small temple, built mostly from wood with some stone columns and statues lining the outside walls. Public baths lay directly across from the temple, and directly ahead was a large building of stone bricks and wood. Arem indicated that it was our destination—the center of the city government—but he veered off to the right of the building, where the stables were.

  He was in a hurry to get to the magistrate once he had his horse taken care of, and he motioned us to follow. Gaar let me pass ahead of him, and I hesitated before following Arem. He had been unusually passive that day, and I wondered if he had been humbled somewhat by the experience with the thieves.

  The central building had endless rooms and chambers. I had seen larger buildings before, but only from the outside, now I was actually inside one of these ancient "mansions," and its size and complexity were impressive.

  Several servants bustled by us as we walked past room after room. Most of them recognized and greeted Arem cordially, and he returned the courtesy. Gaar smiled at those who greeted Arem; I was grimly silent as usual.

  Finally we reached the administrators' wing, where the "important" bureaucrats slept. Arem had us wait while he ducked into his room and deposited his belongings. Shortly he returned and shut the door.

  "When do we get paid?" asked Gaar. "And by whom?"

  "Pray, don't worry," Arem answered, "You'll be paid very soon. And out of my pockets, I'm afraid. Please follow me, though."

  He waved us on, and we had little choice but to follow. Soon we reached a shut door. Arem knocked, and a voice inside bade him enter.

  The magistrate sat up in bed, reading a book. He looked just past his middle years—midsixties, perhaps—but his hair was not as thin as that of most men his age. His face showed many years of worrying and fretting in its lines, however, and his body would have done well to have more meat on it.

  He watched Arem sternly as the quaestor ga
ve him greetings. He was in a bad mood because Arem had got back so late at night and also because he had wasted money hiring "thugs" to see him back safely. Neither Gaar nor I liked that comment, but we kept silent while Arem babbled on about what a great fighter Gaar was, and how he should join the Army. Meanwhile we just wanted our money. Finally he and the magistrate finished their chat, and we glowered at Arem as he shut the door. Gaar spoke my mind for me.

  "If you don't pay us right now, we—"

  "Shh! Yes, yes, I understand!" Arem whispered, and pulled out two sacks from his robe. They clinked as he placed them into our waiting hands. I put mine away immediately, unconsciously mimicking Gaar's behavior. But I also didn't trust the man completely and wanted to count my money right there.

  "That's eight for each of you, to complete the payment," he told us. "I simply didn't wish to pay you in front of him, that's all. He is very concerned about money and all, and—"

  "We thank you, Arem," Gaar said. "But as for my joining the Army—"

  "We pay our men," he interrupted. "And citizenship is easy to acquire in this city. Unless, that is, you belong to another already?"

  "I was born in Actium. But I won't be returning there."

  "Ah. Well, perhaps you should think about it. I know that warriors live as wanderers by nature, going from city to town to city, selling their services—mercenaries, in other words. But you; you have the air of a soldier about you."

  "My father served in the Roman Army," Gaar stated. "Others have said I have his temperament."

  "That may be," Arem said. "Perhaps you will give it thought, then. And you are welcome to stay in Castrill for any length of time. We are not Rome, but we are proud of our city. Tell me, will you be staying for the night?"

  "I should hope so."

  "Yes, that was a thoughtless question. Your wounds must weary you much now. You're welcome to stay here, then, if you wish."

  "Oh? You mean, here in the magistrate's house?"

  "Yes. We should have more than enough room for you and your wife."

  "His what?" I interjected. Arem ignored me and called over a servant girl. I looked over at Gaar, who either hadn't heard Arem's comment or was pretending not to have heard. Meanwhile Arem bade the girl to show us to an empty room and give us bedding and things. I decided to wait until we got there before I said anything.