* * *
Talking into the moonlit night, they conversed about other legends regarding vampires.
“It is written that lower animals instinctively fear vampires and can sense their undead presence,” Cyril related near midnight.
“That’s bullshit,” said Jesus, “Mary and I have rode horses as vampires and have also taken lower animals when there are no suitable people around.”
“I see, and it was written by Thucydides vampires can take lower animals, which would seem to contradict the text of Herodotus. Further, it also seems that running water does not bother you either, which Thucydides spoke of in his treatise.”
“What do you mean?” Mary asked, lying on her side, relaxing on the beach.
“In his scroll it says all vampires fear running water.”
“Why should we?” asked Jesus.
“I have no clue friend, it is what Thucydides wrote.”
“They didn’t seem to know very much about vampires did they?” asked Jesus.
“Perhaps, but they apparently got the main points right, like avoiding the sun, oak stakes, and fire.”
“Quite true,” Jesus replied, “Who was it that wrote of garlic?”
“Thucydides, I take it that garlic does not bother you either.”
“No,” said Jesus, recalling the centurion and party heading to Nazareth in search of him.
“How about silver?”
“What of it?” asked Jesus.
“Thucydides states in his scroll that silver will burn into the skin of a vampire, and that it is also effective against werewolves.”
“Doesn’t bother us at all,” said Jesus, thinking of piles of silver denarii stashed in his cave.
“Do you actually think that there are werewolves Cyril?” Mary asked.
“Before I met you two, I did not think there were vampires.”
“We’ve learned a lot from you this evening,” said Jesus, looking to the river.
“Like what?” You have simply proven that Herodotus and Thucydides were unable to tell their asses from a hole in the ground.”
“But you’ve helped fill in some of the blanks,” Mary replied.
“I try, even with inaccurate references.”
“One other question,” asked Jesus, “I know how you knew we were vampires, as you cannot be entranced by us, but how come Mary and I couldn’t tell that you knew?”
“I have no answer for that,” Cyril replied, “The scrolls do not even begin to address such a phenomenon, the writings I cite are sketchy regarding that. It would seem by inference that Pericles was also incapable of being entranced, but that is all I know.”
The moon had risen into the heavens, it long past midnight, a tired Cyril yawning.
“Shall we turn in?” asked Jesus.
“I will have to soon,” Cyril answered, “I have work in the fields tomorrow.”
“You shouldn’t push yourself so hard, you’re an elderly man,” said Mary.
“I am glad to hear you say that madam; I imagine that you do not wish to kill me anymore.”
“I’m sorry Cyril,” said the Magdalene, “It’s just with Jesus here blunders can be made. In the past he seemed to trust everyone, and all it did was get him killed. I was simply looking out for us and the family.”
“Understandable,” Cyril replied, looking to Jesus, “Julius is quite unique when it comes to vampires, especially when contrasted to what is written in the history texts.”
Jesus looked to his companions and frowned, then to the flowing river.
“Please don’t sulk on us Jesus,” Mary protested, “You know what I’m saying is true.”
“Don’t remind me,” said Jesus, staring pensively at the river.
“He has a bit of a temper, does he not?” Cyril asked.
“Yes, but I’ve found it passes quickly,” said Mary.
“Wise men never let anger last or rule their thoughts, as it clouds judgment,” Cyril replied.
“You’re a wise man,” said Jesus, turning to the teacher.
“You are too Julius.”
“It’s a shame we can’t bring a learned man such as you to our realm,” said Jesus.
“I am sorry sir, I have no desire to be a vampire.”
“Why? A man like you, a brilliant man, is near the end of his mortal life, all that knowledge wasted in death. I can give you immortality!”
“There is no need for that,” a yawning Cyril answered, shaking his head.
“Why?”
“Because I have lived my life, a good life even as a lowly slave, and I as a mortal, I will not encounter the many pitfalls that you, my friend, will encounter in the future.”
“Meaning?”
“All you have known, your dear mother, your good father, will pass from you before your eyes, and you, unaging, will be there to witness it. Your baby brother, at this very moment suckling at his mother’s breast will become an old man before you and will die, leaving you and this ageless woman to mourn his passing as well.”
“That’s cruel to say to him,” said the Magdalene.
“It is the truth of your existence,” Cyril replied.
“He’s right Mary, you can’t damn a man for telling you the truth,” said Jesus, thinking of the time his beloved parents would be gone from the earth.
“Must he be so damn plain about it?” asked Mary, frowning.
“Verily I say, the only real truth is plain, so all who wish to see the truth will easily understand.”
“Truer words have not been said,” Cyril agreed.
“I suppose,” said Mary, not wishing to be lectured by either Jesus or Cyril.
“I would very much like to continue our conversations, would you like that?” asked Cyril, rising to his feet and stretching on the beach near three.
“Of course, you would too, right Mary?”
“Sure, I did find much of our talk fascinating.”
“Good,” said Jesus, rising to his feet, “We’ll also have to properly introduce you to my parents friend Cyril; you are now more like a part of the family anyway.”
“Thank you Julius and wife.”
“Thank you kind sir,” the Magdalene replied.
Heading to the slave quarters, Cyril remarked, “I was thinking Julius, there will be times that we will need to converse among others, how many languages to you speak?”
“Why?”
“Perhaps we share a common tongue between us only, and can converse openly among others when we need to share important ideas without fear of others overhearing.”
“He’s right,” said Mary.
“I understand,” Jesus replied, revealing most his linguistic repertoire, “Let’s see, I fluently speak Aramaic, Hebrew, Latin, Anatolian, Greek, Cathar, Tibetan, and Kushan. I can also read most of them, excepting for Anatolian and Greek.”
“You cannot read Greek?”
“Only a little, I didn’t spend much time in Greece when I was traveling, except in Athens and Sparta for a few weeks when on my way to Rome, and that was over ten years ago.”
“Then the only languages we share are Greek, Latin, and Anatolian; the others understand both and some Anatolian. Is there any other language we may share; do you speak Macedonian or Egyptian?”
“I speak Egyptian, but I’ve never been able to master their hieroglyphs.”
“I can read hieroglyphs and demotic, and will teach you the Greek script if you like,” Cyril replied in the language of the pharaohs.
“You can?” Jesus asked in kind.
“Of course, I can teach you to read Greek and the Egyptian hieroglyphs within a month.”
“Egyptian is a very rich language, and I would appreciate you teaching me the hieroglyphs and the demotic script too.”
“Then I shall my friend.”
“What the hell are you two saying?” asked the Magdalene.
“We were speaking Egyptian,” said Jesus, approaching the slave quarters door, “Cyril and I will use that tongue when we need to talk among ourselves in the presence of others.”
“I’ll need to learn it too.”
“If you learn it as quickly as you learned Latin, it’ll be no problem for you,” Jesus replied.
“It is also written that vampires learn languages easily,” Cyril observed in his usual Latin.
“Who wrote that?” asked Jesus.
“Herodotus,” Cyril answered, opening the door.
“Good night friend Cyril,” said Jesus.
“Good night to you and yours,” Cyril replied, closing the door.
Dark Resurrection Page 53
