by Anne Rice
The man approached. He walked slow, then fast. The light struck his face. He was consumed with rage.
"Lucius," I whispered. "I see you, but I can't believe what I see."
"Nor can I," he said. "What the hell are you doing here?" he said to me.
"What?" I was too baffled to answer.
"Our family is in disgrace in Rome and you're making a spectacle of yourself in the middle of Antioch! Look at you! Painted and perfumed and your hair full of ointment! You are a whore."
"Lucius!" I cried. "What in the name of the gods are you thinking'? Our Father is dead! Your own brothers may be dead. How did you escape? Why aren't you glad to see me? Why don't you take me to your house?"
"Glad to see you!" he hissed. "We are in hiding here, you bitch!"
"How many of you? Who'? What about Antony? What happened to Flora?"
He sneered with exasperation.
"They are murdered, Lydia, and if you do not get yourself to some safe corner where no roaming citizen of Rome can find you, you are dead too. Oh, that you would turn up here, spouting philosophy! Everybody in the taverns was talking about you! And that slave with the leg made of ivory! I saw you at noon, you wretched and infernal nuisance. Damn you, Lydia!"
This was pure unadulterated hate.
Again, came that distinct echoing laughter. Of course he did not hear it. Only I could hear it.
"Your wife, where is she. I want to see her! You will take me in!"
"I will not."
"Lucius, I am your sister. I want to see your wife. You're right. I've been foolish. I didn't think things through very well. There are so many miles of sea between here and Rome. It never occurred to me -"
"That's just it, Lydia, you never really think of anything sensible or practical. You never did. You're an uncompromising dreamer, and stupid on top of it."
"Lucius, what can I do?"
He turned from right to left, sizing up the torchbearers.
He narrowed his eyes. I could feel his hatred. Oh, Father, do not see this from Heaven or the Underworld. My brother wants me dead!
"Yes," I said, "four torchbearers and we are in the middle of the Forum. And don't forget about the man with the ivory leg over there and the Priest," I said softly. "And do regard the soldiers outside the Emperor's Temple. Take note. How goes it with your wife? I must see her. I'll come in secret. She'll be happy that I am alive, surely, for I love her like a sister. I will never connect myself with you in public. I've made a grievous error."
"Oh, knock it off," he said. "Sisters! She's dead!" He looked from right to left again. "They were all massacred. Don't you understand? Get away from me." He took a few steps back but I moved forward, drawing the light around him again.
"But who is with you, then? Who escaped with you? Who else is alive?"
"Priscilla," he said, "and we were damned lucky to get away when we did."
"What? Your mistress? You came here with your mistress? The children, they are all dead?"
"Yes, of course, they must be. How could they have escaped'? Look, Lydia, I give you one night to get out of this city and away from me. I am lodged here comfortably and will not tolerate you. Get out of Antioch. Go by sea or land, I don't care, but go!"
"You left your wife and children to die'? And came here with Priscilla?"
"How the hell did you get away, you stinking bitch in heat, answer me that! Of course you had no children, the great famous barren womb of our family!" He looked at the torchbearers. "Get away from here!" he shouted.
"Stay right where you are."
I put my hand on my dagger. I moved the mantle so that he could see the flash of the metal.
He looked genuinely surprised and then gave a ghastly false smile. Oh, revolting!
"Lydia, I wouldn't hurt you for the world!" he said as if insulted. "I am only worried for us all. Word came from the house. Everyone had been killed. What was I to do, go back and die for nothing?"
"You're lying. And don't you call me a bitch in heat again unless you want to become a gelding. I know you lie. Somebody tipped you off, and you got out! Or it was you who betrayed us all."
Ah, how sad for him that he was not more clever, more quick. He did not take umbrage at these loathsome charges as he should have. He just tilted his head and said:
"No, that's not true. Look, come with me now. Send these men away, get rid of that slave, and I will help you. Priscilla adores you."
"She's a liar and slut! And how calm you have become in the face of my suspicions. Nothing as steamed as when you saw me! I just accused you of betraying our family to the Delatores. I accused you of abandoning your wife and children to the Praetorian Guard. Can you hear these words?"
"It's utter stupidity, I would never do such a thing."
"You reek of guilt. Look at you. I should kill you now!"
He backed up. "Get out of Antioch!" he said. "I don't care how you judge me or what I had to do to save myself and Priscilla. Get out of Antioch!"
There were no words for my judgment. It was harsher than my soul could hold.
He backed away, and then walked fast into the darkness, disappearing before he reached the portico. I listened to his steps as they echoed down the street.
"Dear Heaven!" I whispered. I was about to cry. My hand was still on the dagger, however.
I turned around. The Priest and Flavius stood much closer than ordered. I was frankly utterly baffled, stopped.
I didn't know what to do.
"Come to the Temple at once," said the Priest.
"All right," I said. "Flavius, you come with me, stand watch with the four torchmen, I want you right by the Temple guards, and keep an eye out for that man."
"Who is he, Madam," Flavius whispered as I strode towards the Temple, leading them both.
How regal he looked. He had the presence of a free man. And his tunic was beautiful thin wool, striped in gold, belted in gold, well fitted across his chest. Even his ivory leg had been polished. I was more than pleased. But was he armed'?
Beneath his quiet demeanor, he was deeply protective of me.
In my misery, I couldn't form words to answer him.
Several litters were now crisscrossing the square, carried on the shoulders of hurrying slaves, and other slaves carried the torches beside them. A kind of soft glow rose from the commotion. People were on their way to dinners or private ceremonies. Something was happening in the Temple.
I turned to the Priest. "You will guard my slave and my torchbearers?"
"Yes, Madam," he said.
It was full night. The breeze was sweet. A few lanterns had been lighted under the long porticoes. We drew near to the braziers of the goddess.
"Now I must leave you," I said. "You have my permission to protect my property, as you so eloquently put it earlier, unto death. Don't move from these doors. I won't leave here without you. I won't stay long. I don't want to. But have you a knife'?"
"Yes, Madam, but it's untried. It was among your possessions, and when you did not come home and it grew dark..."
"Don't recount the history of the world," I said. "You did the right thing. You probably will always do the right thing."
I turned my back to the square and said, "Let me see it. I'll know if it's decorative or sharp."
When he drew it from the forearm sling, I touched it with my finger and blood came from the cut. I returned it. This had belonged to my Father. So my Father had filled my trunk with his weapons as well as his wealth, so that I might live!
Flavius and I exchanged one last slow glance.
The Priest grew very anxious. "Madam, please come inside," he said.
I found myself ushered right through the tall doors into the Temple, and with the Priestesses and the Priest of earlier that afternoon.
"You want something of me?" I asked. I was out of breath. I was faint. "I have much on my mind, things that must be done. Can this wait?"
"No, Lady, it cannot!" said the Priest.
I felt a sh
udder in my limbs as if I were being watched by someone. The tall shadows of the Temples were too concealing.
"All right," I said. "It's about those awful dreams, isn't it?"
"Yes," said the Priest. "And more than that."
6
We were taken into another chamber, and this one had only one dim light.
I couldn't see well in the flickering of the flame and I realized I could not make out the faces of the other Priest and Priestess. An Oriental screen, a screen of worked ebony, partitioned off the end of this room, and I felt certain someone was behind it.
But I felt nothing but gentleness emanating from all of these gathered here. I looked around. I was so miserable over my brother, and so impatient that I couldn't find polite words.
"Please, you must forgive me," I said. "A dire matter requires me to hurry." I was becoming afraid for Flavius's safety. "Do send guards to flank my slave outside, now."
"Done, Lady," said the Priest, the one I knew. "I beg you to stay and recount your story again."
"Who is there!" I pointed. "Behind that screen. Why is this person concealed?" This was very rude and irreverent, but I was in a full state of alarm.
"That is one of our most devoted supporters," said the Priest who had escorted me to the shrine of Isis earlier. "This one often comes by night to pray at the shrine and has given much money to the Temple. He only wants to hear what we have to say."
"Well, I'm not so sure of that. Tell him to come out!" I said. "Besides, what is it we're supposed to say?"
I was infuriated suddenly that they might have betrayed my corifidences. I hadn't told them my true Roman name, only of my tragedy, but the Temple was sacred.
They became all flustered in their gentleness.
The figure, draped in the toga, much taller than my brother, in fact, remarkably tall, stepped out from behind the screen. The toga was dark, but nevertheless the classical garment. His face was hidden by the toga. I could only see his lips.
He whispered:
"Don't be afraid. You told the Priest and Priestesses this afternoon of blood dreams."
"This was in confidence!" I said indignantly. I was completely suspicious, for I had told a good deal more than blood dreams to these people.
I tried better to see the figure. There was something distinctly familiar about the figure - the voice, even in a whisper... something else.
"Lady Pandora," said the Priestess who had so consoled me earlier. "You talked to me of an old legendary worship, worship which we oppose and condemn. A worship of our Beloved Mother which once involved human sacrifice. I told you that we abhor such things. And we do."
"However," said the Priest, "there is someone afoot in the city of Antioch who does drink blood from humans, draining them until they are dead. Then he flings the bodies before dawn on our steps. The very steps of our Temple." He sighed. "Lady Pandora, I am entrusting you with a powerful confidence."
All thought of my evil brother left me. The hound of the dreams bore down upon me with its evil breath. I tried to gather my wits. I thought again of the voice I'd heard in my head: It is E who summoned you. The feminine laughter.
"No, it was a woman's laughter," I murmured.
"Lady Pandora?"
"You tell me there is someone afoot in Antioch who drinks blood."
"By night. He cannot walk in the day," said the Priest.
I saw the dream, the rising sun, knowing I the blood drinker would die in the rays of the sun.
"You're telling me that these blood drinkers I saw in my dream exist?" I asked. "That one of them is here."
"Someone wants us to believe this," said the Priest, "that the old legends have truth, but we don't know who it is. And we are leery of the Roman authorities. You know what happened in Rome. You came speaking of dreams in which the sun killed you, in which you were a blood drinker. Lady, I'm not betraying your confidences here. This one -"
He gestured to the tall man. "This is the one who reads the ancient writing. He's read the legends. Your dreams echo the legends."
"I am sick," I said. "I need a chair. I have enemies to worry about."
"I'll protect you from your enemies," said the mysterious tall man in the toga.
"How can you? You don't even know who they are. "
There came a silent voice from the tall man in the toga:
Your brother Lucius betrayed the entire family. He did it out of jealousy of your brother Antony. He sold out everybody to the Delatores for a guaranteed one-third of the family's wealth and left before the killing began. He had the cooperation of Sejanus of the Praetorian Guard. He wants to kill you.
I was shocked but also not about to let this person overwhelm me.
You speak just like the woman, I said silently. You speak right to my thoughts. You speak like the woman who said to me in my head, "It is I who summoned you."
I could feel his shock at this. But I too slumped as if dealt a mortal blow. So this creature knew all about my brothers, and Lucius had betrayed us. And this creature knew.
What are you? I fired off to the mind speaker, the tall one. Are you a magicians
No answer.
The Priest and Priestess, unable to hear this silent exchange, pursued their course.
"This blood drinker, Lady Pandora, he leaves human victims on the steps of the Temple before dawn. He writes an old name in Egyptian on his victims with their blood. Should the government discover this, our Temple might be held accountable. This is not our worship.
"Will you recount again for us - for our friend here - your dreams? We must protect the worship of Isis. We did not believe in these old legends... until this creature appeared and began his killing, then comes out of the sea a beautiful Roman woman who speaks of similar beings who are in her dreams."
"What name does he write on his victims?" I asked. "This blood drinker. Is it Isis?"
"It's meaningless, it's forbidden, it's old Egyptian. It is one of the names by which Isis was once called, but never by us."
"What is it?"
None of them, including the silent one, answered me.
In the silence, I thought of Lucius and I almost wept. Then hatred came over me, deep hatred, as it had in the Forum when I spoke with him, saw his cowardly rage. Betrayed the entire family. To be weak is a dangerous thing. Antony and my Father had been such strong men.
"Lady Pandora," said the Priest. "Tell us what you might know of this creature in Antioch. Have you dreamed of him?"
I thought of the dreams. I tried to respond in depth to what these people in this Temple were telling me.
The tall distant Roman spoke:
"Lady Pandora knows nothing about this blood drinker. She is telling you the truth. She knows only the dreams and there have been no names spoken in her dreams. In her dreams she sees an earlier time of Egypt."
"Well, thank you, Gracious Lord!" I said furiously. "And just how have you arrived at that conclusion?"
"By reading your thoughts!" the Roman said, quite unruffled. "The same as I have regarding those who would put you in danger here. I'll protect you from your brother."
"Indeed. You had better leave that to me. It is I who will settle that score with him. Now, let us leave the question of my personal misfortune. And you explain to me, most clever one, why I am having these dreams! Fork up some useful magic from your mind reading. You know, a man with your gifts should post yourself at the courthouse, and determine cases for the judges if you can read minds. Why don't you go to Rome and become the advisor to the Emperor Tiberius?"
I could feel, positively feel, the little tumult in the heart of the distant concealed Roman. Again, there came that sense of something familiar about this creature. Of course I was no stranger to necromancers, astrologists or oracles. But this man had mentioned specific names - Antony, Lucius. He was an astounder.
"Tell me, oh, mysterious one," I said. "How dose do my dreams come to what you've read in the old writing? And this blood drinker, the one that's roaming A
ntioch, is he a mortal man?"
Silence.
I strained to see the Roman more dearly but couldn't. He had in fact receded somewhat into the darkness. My nerves were on the breaking point. I wanted to kill Lucius; in fact, I had no choice.
The Roman said softly, "She knows nothing of this blood drinker in Antioch. Tell her what you know of him - for it may be he, this blood drinker, who is sending her the dreams."
I was confused. The woman's voice had been so clear in my head earlier, Et is I who summoned you.
This was causing confusion in the Roman; I could feel it like a little turbulence in the air.
"We've seen him," said the Priest. "Indeed, we watch, in order to collect these poor drained corpses before anyone finds them and blames the deed on us. He is burned, burned all over his body, blackened. He cannot be a man. He is an old god, burnt black as if in an inferno."
"Amon Ra," I said. "But why didn't he die? In the dreams, I die."
"Oh, it is a horror to behold," said the Priestess suddenly, as if she could contain herself no longer. "This thing cannot be human. Its bones show through its blackened skin. But it is weak and its victims are weak. It barely staggers, yet it can drain the blood from the poor maimed souls upon whom it feeds. It crawls away in the morning as if it hasn't the strength to walk."
The Priest seemed impatient.
"But he's alive," said the Priest. "Alive, god or demon or man, he lives. And each time he drinks blood from one of these weaklings, he grows a little stronger. And he is straight from the old legends, and you have dreamed of them. He wears his hair long in the old Egyptian style. He is in agony from his burns. He spits curses at the Temple."
"What kind of curses'?"
The Priestess interjected at once. "He seems to think that Queen Isis has betrayed him. He speaks in old Egyptian. We barely understand him. Our Roman friend here, our benefactor, has translated the words for us."
"Stop!" I demanded. "My head is reeling. Don't say anymore. The man over there has told the truth. I know nothing of this bloody burnt creature. I don't know why I have the dreams. l think a woman is sending the dreams to me. It may be the Queen I described to you, the Queen on the throne, in fetters, who weeps, I don't know why!"
