“The cause of my original languor—for my ruse was an exaggeration of a genuine ill, not a mere trick—is too complex to speak on now and unnecessary to our present discourse. However, in those years that I languished heart-sick, I studied records, histories, maps, rumors and all other things I could lay hands upon that would put some light upon those early centuries of The Order’s history which preceded Julia’s judicatus. What I found surprised, intrigued and humbled me, for I found evidence that our ancestral Order existed not to rule mankind but to serve it!”
Caroline seemed as shocked as me. We’d both been edging up to the front of our seats and now we both rocked back a little at the power of his pronouncement.
“Signora Ludlow,” Iago said, like a teacher calling on a student in class. “Would you define your modern use of the term hegemony?”
Caroline sat up straighter. “Hegemony is the dominance of one group over another. In modern usage, this meaning has been expanded to any social, economic, sexual, racial, or ethnic group which dominates the thinking or behavior of a society by any means.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Now, if you please, the meaning of its Greek origin: hegemon.” He pronounced the word more like ‘hee-ga-mun’ than the usual way that made it sound like a Japanese card game.
“Well, its linguistic root heg means ‘to seek’ and the word hegemon can be interpreted as both a guide who seeks the way to some goal and a leader who enforces that way,” she told him.
Iago nodded, raising his finger again. “Precisely. Look you at the philosophical gulf which lies between those words. In its infancy, the Hegemons were as their name dictates, brave and enlightened souls who sought to lead the civilizations of their designated area to greater achievement by preservation of its greatest minds! Solon of Athens, Erathosthenes of Egypt, Zeno the Stoic, Darius the Great, Plato, Socrates, Thales of Miletus, Lucretius of Rome—each of these luminaries, I learned, were once members of our ancient Order! Why, my own position of Judicis did not exist in its current form until near the reign of Julia. Instead there existed one known as the Sage whose venerated wisdom was sought when a pair or more could come to no agreement…”
He paused, catching himself. “For all that I have wandered, your pardon but this is for all: my studies woke something long slumbering within my breast, some ember of the spark which burned so brightly before the honeyed hooks of The Game pricked up my pride to come and master it. I recalled with what joy my first years in my Creator’s bondage were spent, the engrossing delight I took in scholarship, my fevered anticipation for the wonders of the future and the role I might play in shaping that future to its betterment!
“It is that Iago who stands before you tonight, with further benefit of the knowledge hard-won over centuries, that Iago who shall take his former’s place at the council helm and by their own process, pitch out those villains who corrupt the flesh and bone of this once-august body! Reform, I say! Let The Order’s power in the world be put to the enlightenment of its peoples, the enrichment of its nations and the ending of its ills! Let us once again seek to Create only those whose gifts merit preservation, whose future contributions overbalance the harm they would cause to maintain their lives! Let us employ the wealth of knowledge and technology which now exists to better our condition and perfect our invisibility! Let us do all these and more besides and waste no more time than necessary in their initiation!”
Now that was a campaign message to get excited about! I had goose-bumps and beside me, Caroline’s breathing had grown heavier. There were tears in her eyes again.
Pulling that heavy, electrifying charisma back into himself by will alone, Iago strode across the room and knelt in front of us. The effect of his presence now was no less impressive, simply more intimate. “Caroline,” he said, his voice a caress. “I have observed you and your actions in this Domain for the greater part of your life here and believe you desire many of the things that I do. Having spoken with you, I am certain of it. This is why I beg you to remain with us in The Order when our immediate task is done, for my venture’s success shall require strong allies in the years to come. Allies whose support grows from moral rather than political ground.”
He turned to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, eyes gleaming with proud warmth that made me choke up. “Keep your bravery and guard the love in your heart from any who seek to rob you of it, my good fellow. Men like you are the saplings from which mighty oaks grow. Now,” he said, rising, “the hour does indeed grow late and some measure of decorum must be maintained. Off with you.”
He gave Caroline a formal kiss on the hand as we rose and then returned to his chair. We left in silence, going up the narrow stairs, hidden behind a bookcase in classic mystery mansion style.
I was excited by the increased hope and importance of our mission but in that oddly detached way that comes from a combination of emotional exhaustion and disbelief. “So, we did good in there … right?”
Caroline giggled and threw her arms around my neck. We kissed, deeply but gently, as if neither of us wanted to get worked up again so soon. For a few brief minutes, I forgot everything and just lost myself in loving her.
“We did great,” she said. “I’d say it went better than I could have hoped. I think the chances are very good that he’ll name us his Adjutors!”
This was all happening so fast, all I could think in my drained stupor was: What does a Judicial Adjutor do, anyway? Would we have to live in Italy for that? I don’t speak Italian. Maybe I could learn it. Caroline could help. Don’t they have a lot of people over there who speak English?
“Yeah, that’s cool,” I muttered.
“Anyway,” she said, getting my attention back. “I better head back downstairs and make sure nothing’s gone wrong in our absence. Without Mrs. Kai, everybody’s going to look at…”
Just what I’d needed. Even though Draco’s suite was on the other side of the gallery and a floor below, I was certain I’d be able to pick out Mrs. Kai’s screams with my improved Vampyr hearing.
Caroline hugged me. “I’m sorry I mentioned it. But … the only way we can honor her sacrifice is by keeping up the fight and winning. We’re not just doing this for ourselves anymore, we’re fighting on behalf of Mrs. Kai and all the other people like her. We owe them our best effort.”
We separated and I nodded, swallowing a lump in my throat. “I know. Thanks.”
She gave me a quick kiss and we headed toward the gallery. “Tomorrow night, just act normal and get Geoffrey’s breakfast, okay? I’ll figure out a way to meet you there.”
“Okay.”
With that, she took the stairs down to the gallery and I continued toward my room. I did my best not to hear anything and tried not to think about Mrs. Kai.
I was never more glad that sleep, when it came, would be dreamless.
PART FOUR
Human beings strive for purpose in their existences and Vampyrs are still psychologically human. The prospect of immortality is as terrifying to most as it is exhilarating to a few. The rigid structure of The Order, however, gives the new Vampyr the stability he needs. With a firm place among his peers, rules of conduct to abide by and goals to work toward, the new Vampyr soon grows comfortable with his predatory identity and the burden of self-determination is lifted. Thus, what is commonly known as “The Game” serves as the primary socializing function of the Vampyr.- Dr. Caroline Ludlow, The Order: History, Structure and Purpose.
“There is no paranoia in The Order, merely probability of occurrence.”
- Attributed to Iago de’ Medici
From the Diary of Caroline Ludlow
May 29, 1965
If I don’t leave Sebastian now, I’ll end up killing him!
He hit me!!! When the coast is clear, I’ll call Ash and ask him to get me off the island somehow. I can stay with Burlington. I only need to take a few things.
* * * * *
I’m a little calmer now. I never thought I’d be afraid of him. What’
s happening to us?
It started over dinner when talk turned to the civil rights movement, a topic of many past quarrels that’s always ended in a stalemate. Tonight though, he refused to even discuss it. That ticked me off. After twenty years, was I to be ignored whenever he found it convenient? So I let him have it. Maybe it was naïve of me but I confronted him with everything, his secret directives to O’Connor and DeWinter on President Kennedy and Malcolm X, using the National Guard to crack down on public protests, the FBI to spy on Civil Rights groups, all of it. I’m sick of being treated as badly as the Negroes are. I demanded he Release me. He lashed out at me like I was one of his Governors, knocked me clear off my feet and onto the floor! He didn’t even look human, rather like some wild beast ready to tear me to pieces! Somehow I made it here and locked the door. Not that a locked door could stop him if he wanted to get in.
He could kill me. Dear God, he could literally kill me anytime he wants and there’s no one in the world who’d even try to stop it. What the hell was I thinking?
I pushed him too hard but ignoring the problems won’t solve them. All this killing and unrest and for what? Because the Negroes are speaking out? Give them freedom and education and there’s no limit to what they can contribute. America will be all the stronger for it! Can’t he see that? What’s happened to his ideals? Damn DeWinter, Tumbridge and all the others, Sebastian’s become so cynical and they keep playing on his paranoia to push their agendas! Burlington’s the only moderate voice among them and Sebastian seems to resent him for it!
I know most of this is symptomatic of the feralism but it’s gotten so hard to know where he ends and it begins anymore. He used to enjoy a spirited debate with me, now he barks orders and expects to be obeyed without question. I can’t keep going like this month after month, I just can’t. Burlington will understand, I just ho
* * * * *
That was Sebastian at the door. He didn’t ask to be let in, he merely asked me to listen. He said he wasn’t thinking when he struck me and that such conduct was inexcusable. He told me if I ever sensed him getting that worked up again, I should leave the room immediately. He acknowledged he was losing his temper more often and that it was harder for him to think clearly at times. Of course, guilt and shame are common in the aftermath of domestic abuse but still, the anguish in his voice was something I’ve never heard before. So raw.
In the end, I let him in. Not because of the apology but because he was ready to talk. I’ve underestimated how acutely he feels the world getting more complex and incomprehensible. His old coping skills aren’t working for him anymore and I haven’t tried to teach him new ones in years, so the daily stress has been taking greater tolls on his patience (that’s my assessment, not his excuse). I should have expected this. His behavior is common in nursing homes and hospitals: the lashing out at a caregiver, the resentment of their control and the necessity of their assistance, the anger and frustration over losing their sense of independence and the self-assurance that goes with it. Still, how many more such outbursts can I expect from him in the future? How much more violence?
For some reason, all I can think of are his eyes. God, I loved those eyes, the deep blue of an ocean storm, darkening layers of cerulean I could lose myself in, drawing me into where there was only love and serenity. Just looking into his eyes made the world go away. Now they’re like nothing human, yellow with irises twice as wide as before like a jungle cat. I remember when Sebastian’s eyes changed. It blinded him at first and Ash and I found him staggering about the upstairs hallway, howling in agony, slashing at the air with his hands. We had to tie him to the bed to keep him from hurting himself until the pain caused him to pass out. The next time I saw him those beautiful blue eyes were gone. Now his color perception is too. Sebastian’s world is nothing but white lights, shades of gray, shadows and patterns.
Nothing’s been the same since that night. Dammit, over ten years and millions of research dollars and we still know almost nothing! Stress aggravates the changes. That much I’ve learned just from watching him. No treatments or cure yet.
I know he feels like an aging cripple becoming ever more dependent on his nurse and I tried to make him understand that that’s not the case. He doesn’t blame me for wanting to leave him but begged me to stay, saying he couldn’t imagine living without me. I know that his growing dependence on me will sour into resentment again and I think he knows it as well.
But, as a psychologist, I can ignore the rants and resentments. Perhaps I can take a course or get some professional advice about being a more effective caregiver. If our places were switched, Sebastian would still take care of me, I’m certain of that.
He also apologized that he was taking so much of my time handling his papers and affairs but says he has no one else he can trust. It’s a huge burden but he’s proud of how well I’m handing it. I knew that but it’s nice to finally hear him admit it! Then he got around to why he hadn’t Released me and the hopelessness in his voice was hurtful to hear. I’m going to try to record exactly what he said so I can study it more when I’m less emotional:
“Darling, you must understand something of freedom and Release in this bloody Game of ours. Believe me, I pray as one who has spent many lifetimes over in the quest, there is no freedom here. I’ve risen through most of the offices that exist in our Order and I tell you truly that the meanest human servant has more claim to call himself a free man than do I as Hegemon of the world’s freest nation. There is no place on God’s earth that I do not feel the chains of this office upon me, no decision I make which does not set implications to wrestling in my mind, no action I can take that does not have the scrutiny of a thousand eyes assessing it. Every waking hour I must consider Geoffrey, Draco, Julia, Iago and that celestial bitch besides. And when I am satisfied with my answers to them, I must turn my attentions to that pack of slavering jackals within my own Domain! Caroline, my love, the better part of these tribulations I would spare you while I can. As my Pupil, you are answerable to me alone and untouchable by all others. I’ve given you as much freedom as I can with as few of the attendant problems of Initiation, can you not see that?”
(This tendency of late to fall into older speech patterns has me a little worried. I think the formality might be some form of overcompensation for his physical symptoms but I hope that’s all. Could the feralism be affecting his language centers?) Anyway, I agreed that I could see his point but told him that being Uninitiated made me feel like a small child during Gatherings when I couldn’t speak to anyone.
“That’s precisely what I’d protect you from!” he said. “You don’t want to speak to these villains, love, believe that. Once Released, you’d be in The Game and they’d descend upon you like vultures to a fresh carcass with no way for me to stop them. ‘We play, else we be used’ goes the old song and with no power of your own, there’s no doubt to which position you’d fall. They’ll pluck secrets from you without your notice and do their best to drive wedges ‘tween us. Please, can you not trust in my intent for but a short while longer? I warrant you things will improve soon, for it’s only the needs of the moment that cause us such strife. Once the length and breadth of my campaign ‘comes clear, you’ll see the necessity of all this distasteful policy, my word on it.”
What could I do but agree and hope? I see now that he’s kept so many of his recent government actions from me not out of distrust but out of shame. Perhaps a softer, more supportive approach will work better than confrontation. I assume I’ve been kept out of the loop at DeWinter’s request (the old hawk still thinks of me as a young woman with no business being involved in these matters) but I plan on having a chat with his grandson and voicing my concerns. After all, sometimes we of the younger generation have to save our elders from themselves.
So I’ve decided to remain. If I leave, I lose Sebastian’s resources, protection and influence. Not to mention I still love him dearly and I swore we’d beat his Feralism together. Besides, I can’t leave him alo
ne to grow isolated and embittered, surrounded by toadies when his sudden impulses for dominance and conflict could easily lead the country into more wars. I’m the only one who can help relieve his stress and keep his condition stable. Burlington and DeWinter will help. So will Ash. Once I’m able to better manage his condition, Sebastian can relax more and then, I think, everything else will begin to improve.
Here it comes: the worst night of my life.
Ironically, I felt settled and even a little optimistic when I woke up, which was a nice change. On some level, I’d accepted what happened to Mrs. Kai and my part in it. I wasn’t happy about it but I’d accepted that it was done and all that was left was to make it mean something.
We were working toward a specific goal. We had an ally, a more solid plan and a realistic shot at making that plan work.
As I reached the first floor, I heard the footman with the attitude from the night before telling a story about being in the security bunker. He and another footman were in the loading dock taking a cigarette break. He paused as I stepped into view and shot me a suspicious glance.
“So, anyway,” Mr. Pissy continued, unaware that I could pick up his voice from anywhere in the room. Yay Vampyr hearing. “I’m just walking down the hall, not even peeking into rooms or anything and fucking Wilkes sneaks up behind me, fucking shoves me into a wall! So, I’m like ‘Hey, what the hell?’ and he’s all ‘Whaddaya think you’re doing here?’ Well, I figure he’s just being a douche like always, so I tell him I’m looking for Ash but I put a little attitude on it, you know?”
As I headed for the blood fridge, I wanted two packs to start off the night, hoping it would keep me full for a while, I noticed that nobody was chatting except for Mr. Pissy or saying anything that wasn’t necessary. I popped my packs in the microwave and started it up, glancing around.
Ancient Blood: A Novel of the Hegemony (The Order Saga Book 1) Page 16
