* * *
A hung over Joseph rose at ten and drank a bottle of wine for breakfast to kill the hangover; heading to the slave quarters near noon to inspect his newly purchased servants.
“My name is Jos – I mean Julius,” said Joseph, “I and my wife are the master and mistress of this farm, what are your names please?” Each answered in turn, Joseph noting their names on a piece of parchment. “Thank you, we shall treat you well. For the time being you may rest, my son Julius the younger will assign each of you later,” he replied, turning to leave.
“Can you unshackle us master?” a muscular slave named Ganymede asked with an imploring expression.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t the keys, my son has them and is in town at present,” lied Joseph, ogling the attractive Jewess, she noting his observations and looking to the floor, the rest of the group nodding as he turned and left. This is going to be better than I imagined, Joseph thought as he returned to the house.
At dusk, he walked to his son’s room and roused his son. “Jesus wake up, you have to unshackle the slaves,” said his father, shaking him in the bed.
“Unshackle them!” Jesus exclaimed, rising with a start, “They should have been released last night!”
“They’re sitting chained in their quarters, I told them you have the keys.”
“Give me the keys woman, why didn’t you unshackle the slaves?” asked Jesus, shaking her awake.
Clumsily reaching to the floor and handing him the keys, Mary murmured as she opened her eyes, “They’re all right sitting chained in their shed aren’t they?” Focusing, she added with a frown, “You may not realize it, but I don’t care about them, besides, they might have escaped and then you’d be yelling at me about that!”
“You should care, they’re our slaves,” said Jesus.
“They’re your slaves, not mine, I’ve never wanted to own anyone and never will, the thought is repulsive,” the Magdalene retorted, rolling over and hugging a pillow.
“Oh,” said Jesus, not having known of his consort’s negative feelings regarding slavery.
Leaving the bed, he dressed and headed to the slave quarters with his father.
“I got their names,” said Joseph, “The pretty Jewess is called Ruth.”
“After the prophetess,” Jesus replied, entering the austere slave quarters. “I’m very sorry, I didn’t realize my wife hadn’t unchained you,” he said while Joseph stood quietly, “My name’s Julius, eldest son of Julius the elder here.”
Each thanked Jesus he released them. “You may rest and settle in tonight, later I will assign you to your duties,” said Jesus, “That is with the exception of Ruth; you, young woman, will follow us to our home.” The Jewess nodded, rising to follow them.
Walking to the house, Joseph whispered, “What about the problem we discussed regarding you and the slaves?”
“All in good time, I’ll handle it,” Jesus replied as they walked in. Entering the kitchen and taking a seat, he looked to Ruth and said, “You are to be my mother’s personal servant. She is pregnant and requires attention from a devoted person, are you able to cook?”
“You’re not going to rape me?” Ruth asked, looking to the floor, envisioning her rape by Jesus and his father.
“Of course not,” a frowning Jesus answered, “Please look at me girl, only barbarians rape women, and trader Callicles informed me that your virtue is intact.”
“He should know master, he stripped me naked and checked before he bought me.”
“How can people do such things?” said Jesus, closing eyes and thinking of the chaste modesty practiced by both sexes of their Hebrew kinsfolk.
“I can cook master,” Ruth added, finally answering his question.
“Yes, please sit down,” Jesus ordered. Staring at him, she took a seat. Looking to his father for a moment, he turned to the girl and asked in his native tongue, “Do you speak Aramaic?”
“Yes,” said Ruth, astonished at the words coming from a clean-shaven, shorthaired man who looked like any other Roman to her.
“Well then, I bought you to save you from the fate so many other lovely slaves of the empire fall into. A young woman of your fine caliber should be saved for marriage to a good man, instead of the bondage of the brothel.”
“Thank you master,” said Ruth, tears welling in her eyes.
“Don’t mention it, simply help my mother and father, and in time we’ll find you a good man for a husband.”
“I've always wanted that,” Ruth replied, wiping away tears, not believing the words she heard.
“You will sleep in my parent’s bedroom on the floor until we build you a separate room and cot,” said Jesus, “Their room is down the hall to the right, please go tend to my mother’s needs if you would.”
After Ruth left the kitchen, Joseph smiled broadly. “Like I’ve said, I really like your style son.”
The vampiric Christ looked to his father and nodded. They sat at the table for a while, drinking wine and planning their next moves.
“So, what are the names of the other slaves father?”
“Let’s see,” said Joseph, retrieving parchment from a tunic pocket, “Their names are Icarus, Penelope, Electra, Ganymede, Cyril and Brutus.”
“Brutus? What kind of a name is that for a Greek, it’s a Latin name.”
“Go figure, I asked him that too; he said he was a Greek born in Rome.”
“That explains it, what skills do they have?”
“The women are skilled in weaving, sewing, cooking, tanning and tending animals; the one called Electra is also a midwife. Cyril, the old one, is a teacher and linguist, Icarus is a skilled blacksmith, Ganymede's a carpenter, and Brutus said he can do most anything. Incidentally, Brutus worked as overseer on a farm before their master, a fellow named Marcus Trajanus, died last year.”
“Excellent, we’ll assign the men to clear and plow the fields, using Brutus as overseer, and employ the women to take care of the animals, if that’s all right with you.”
“Sure, you’re the guy who bought them, why do you think you need my approval?”
“I wanted to be sure, as the elder Julius you’re considered their master.”
“I am?”
“Yes, further, in the empire, as patriarch you have the power of life and death over the entire family, not just the slaves,” said Jesus, informing him of the finer points of Roman tradition.
“That’s ridiculous,” retorted Joseph, “I'd never kill any of my family, what kind of crazy society is this?”
“It’s Roman society father, and no crazier than Judean society is if you ask me, it’s just the way it is.”
“How do you know all that?”
“I lived in Rome, don’t you remember?”
“Yeah you did, I’m sorry. What the hell, at least they don’t circumcise people around here,” said Joseph, having noted Callicles and Gavinal immodestly relieving themselves at the caravansary, practically in front of him.
“That’s true,” a frowning Jesus replied, looking ruefully to his crotch for a moment.
“They did it to me too, it was uh, tradition I guess,” said Joseph, leaning his head on an upright arm, never having understood how mutilating a newborn baby’s penis would bring him closer to God.
“I know that father; anyway, Mary and I will have to be moving on later, you and mother will then in fact be the masters of this farm once we leave,” said Jesus, returning to the original subject of the conversation.
“The wanderlust of vampires, Herodotus wrote of that in his treatise on legends,” Joseph observed, still trying to understand the absolute authority of the patriarch of a Roman family.
“We won’t be leaving for a while, but I eventually want to head back to Europe, to Greece and Rome,” said Jesus, thinking of his necessary task regarding citizenship, solvable o
nly in the Eternal City.
“Why there and not some place like Scythia?”
“I’d like to see the Parthenon again,” replied Jesus, figuring he would keep the task to himself for the present, it not immediately imperative.
“What's that?”
“A beautiful marble Temple on the Acropolis in Athens, dedicated to goddess Athena Parthenos.”
“Interesting, will you ever return?”
“Of course, I intend to make Tibernum a permanent place that Mary and I can return to.”
“Oh,” said Joseph, wondering when Jesus would decide to take off, recalling his son’s past wanderings through Europe, India and Asia.
“Will you be here for the baby’s birth?”
“Yes indeed, and probably for a time after that. Don’t worry dad, we’re first going to get the farm running smoothly for you.”
“That’s good, I need someone’s help. I don’t know the first damn thing about farming.”
“Neither do I,” said Jesus, “But it can’t be that hard, with our trained slaves it should prove easy.”
The Magdalene stepped into the kitchen, finishing the brushing of her black locks. “Hi Joseph,” she greeted, stifling a yawn and placing her hairbrush on the kitchen table. She looked to Jesus and said, “I’m hungry, let’s find someone to eat.”
“Careful woman, Ruth’s in the house,” Jesus replied.
“Who?” asked Mary.
“The Jewess,” said Jesus.
“Oh yes. So, what are you going to do about that, she has to find out about us eventually you know.”
“Entrancement will take care of it,” a confident Jesus answered.
“How?” asked Joseph.
“Early tomorrow evening I’ll entrance them, but I haven’t decided on how to proceed yet,” said Jesus, swirling wine in his goblet, pondering what suggestion he would employ to accomplish the task.
“If I were you I’d figure out something soon,” Joseph replied, refilling his goblet and offering the bottle to Jesus.
Jesus nodded and continued, “Perhaps I could lead them to believe Mary and I are late sleeping artists or scholars, or maybe I could make them forget we even exist unless we’re in their presence.”
“Like they’ll forget about you each time you leave?” asked Joseph, placing the bottle on the table.
“Yes,” said Jesus, rising from his chair, “That’s why I told them that you’re the master of this farm, such will prove much easier for all involved. Further, Mary and I have no real use for slaves anyway.”
“I’ll say,” Joseph replied, “I was wondering how you’d do it, either way seems complicated, but I suppose you know what you’re doing when it comes to that.”
“Don’t be so sure, he’s screwed up before,” the Magdalene observed. Jesus stood, quiet, turning for the door with her following. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that,” she said as they stepped from the porch.
“Don’t worry about it woman,” Jesus answered, “I have screwed up before, and you’ve made it abundantly clear to me over the past year.”
“I’m only trying to watch out for you.”
“I know, that’s why I’m not particularly upset about it.”
“Oh,” said Mary, falling silent, still feeling she had hurt him.
“Since it’s early, do you want to fly south?”
“Sure,” she replied, the couple assuming chiropteric form.
Rising on a draft, they observed Callicles’ torch lit caravansary to the north doing business with the people of Tibernum. After a few hours, they alighted and transformed near a village about 40 miles north of Mansahir, surrounded by dense scrub and chaparral.
“It’s about another two hours to Mansahir,” said Jesus, “Do you want to fly on or find someone around here?”
“This’ll do,” Mary replied, “You know, that’s the second time this week we’ve flown from town, are you hungry for human blood or do you feel like moving on?”
“A little of both probably,” said Jesus, strolling the dark road, “We’ll have to stay in Tibernum for a time yet, for mother to have her baby and to get the farm running smoothly.”
“I don’t mind, when I was alive I never had a place to stay for long. My parents were dead by the time I was thirteen and my aunt threw me out at fifteen.”
“I never knew that, why?”
“My aunt, she was just a cranky old bitch, my parents had me late in life and after they died I guess she didn’t want to raise another child,” said Mary as they walked along.
“So that’s why you turned to prostitution.”
“That’s about it, I needed to feed myself and looked good, so it seemed to be my best option.”
“You still do, I’m very sorry you had to turn to that profession.”
“Why? There wasn’t anything you could have done, that was over ten years ago. You didn’t even know me then and were wandering about India, Cathay or wherever.”
“If I had known, I would have helped you.”
“That’s your problem Jesus, you always want to help people. It seems to be some weird compulsion of yours, why, don’t you remember what those bastards in Jerusalem did?”
“I know what they did woman, but just because people there treated me badly doesn’t give me license to treat others in that fashion.”
“So look at it this way then, shit happens and you can’t help everyone.”
“You’re right about that.”
Walking further, they heard a disturbance occurring up the road and moved toward it.
It was a pair of robbers, just having beaten their victim to death.
“What are you looking at?” one asked as Jesus and consort walked up.
“Nothing in particular, we were passing through when we happened upon you,” said Jesus, “So, why were you beating on that man?”
“What business is it of yours?”
“None, I was idly wondering, that’s all.”
The other drew a sword and growled, “If you must know we were robbing him, and since you’re here we’re going to rob you too.”
“I think not,” said Jesus, Mary chuckling at his unconcerned demeanor.
“Who’s the giggling bitch?” asked the first robber, pointing to Mary.
“A friend of mine who doesn’t take kindly to being called a bitch,” Jesus replied, “In fact, she can be really mean at times, just ask her.”
“Isn’t that too damn bad,” the swordsman retorted, starting toward them.
“I warn you, you shouldn’t try to rob us,” said Jesus.
“Why not?” asked the swordsman, pausing.
“Because we’re vampires, that’s why,” the Magdalene answered, smiling and baring her fangs.
Both turned and ran, taking cover in the scrub. Mary started after, Jesus holding her arm and remarking, “Let’s hunt them down, I think it will be sporting don’t you?”
“Can I suck this guy’s blood first?” Mary asked, pointing to the body.
“Sure, we have plenty of time,” said Jesus, watching the thieves run to a cave to hide, seeing them by the heat of their bodies.
Mary drained the corpse, wiped excess blood from her mouth on the victim’s grayish tunic and rose to her feet. “Where’d they go?” she asked, knowing Jesus had been watching them like a hawk.
“They’re hiding in a cave,” Jesus replied, “Even from here I can smell them.”
“So can I, let’s surprise them.”
Transforming, they flew to the mouth of the cave as their terrified assailants cringed inside, hoping they had eluded the vampires. Returning to human form, Jesus clearly saw one from his body heat, standing about ten feet back in the cave. He walked in boldly and asked, “Guess who?”
The swordsman burst from a crevice, gladius raised ab
ove his head, intending to cleave the vampire in two. Stopping the sword and breaking his arm at the elbow, a bone piercing the flesh, Jesus intoned, “Silly thieves, verily I say unto you, beware of vampires dressed as Romans.” His sword falling to the ground, the robber screamed in pain and dropped to the cave floor, clutching his broken arm.
“You said that last time,” Mary observed, moving for the other terrified thief, frozen in place by Jesus’ hypnotic power.
“No I didn’t,” said Jesus, index finger in the air, “If you recall, the last time I said: Verily I say unto you, beware of Hebrew vampires dressed as Romans.”
“Oh yes, you’re quite right, I’m sorry,” Mary replied, plunging fangs in the neck.
“I figured you might like to watch her, I told you she was mean,” said Jesus as he knelt beside the moaning, terrified form, writhing in agony on the floor of the cave. “Guess not,” he added, grabbing the victim, going for the jugular and sucking his blood until he died. Dropping the corpse, he belched and said, “Get their money, I’ll head out and drag the other one in here.”
“Okay,” replied Mary.
Walking to the road, Jesus lifted the cadaver over a shoulder and carried it to the cave. “It’s a shame about this man,” he said, dumping the body to the cave floor, “Had we come along sooner we could have saved him.”
“Who cares, and he must not have had much money on him, they only had a hundred denarii between them.”
“Really? That’s the equivalent of four aurei, so I reckon it’s a fair haul.”
“I got nine off of the guy I took last night.”
“Aurei?”
“I forgot to tell you, I put it and some other money in your bag in the cellar.”
“Thank you woman, with the way it’s mounting up I suppose we’ll have to take our latest earnings to the cave.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Mary, dropping the coins in a small leather pouch and handing it to him.
Hurling the remains down a deep shaft, the bodies crashed to the bottom hundreds of feet below. Their cleanup work completed, they left the cave, assumed chiropteric form and flew toward Tibernum. A squall blew up en route, soaking them to the skin during their flight, Jesus and Mary transforming to a pair of damp clothed vampires at the farm entrance. Returning near three, they walked into the house to see Ruth and his mother at the kitchen table.
“Why are you up so late mother?” Jesus asked, annoyed by the itchy feeling of his damp wool tunic.
“I wasn’t feeling well, Ruth made me some soup.”
“This could become a problem,” the Magdalene whispered.
Jesus nodded and said, “Thank you Ruth, please go now, I need to talk privately with my mother.” Ruth bowed to him and returned to his parent’s bedroom. “Is everything all right mother?”
“I’m fine, and Ruth is very useful, but how are we going to prevent her from discovering you and Mary are vampires?”
“My thoughts exactly,” agreed the Magdalene.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” said Jesus, looking to his consort.
“Yeah right,” his consort retorted, walking to their bedroom.
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