Blood and Gold - Anne Rice [31]
It was in this moment that I understood perhaps for the first time that anger was weak. Anger had robbed me of Pandora over a sentence of less than twenty words. Anger would rob me of Mael if I destroyed him. Also, I thought, I can always delay the murder. I can talk with Mael now. I can let my mind have this company it craves and I can always kill him later on.
But I’m sure you know such reasoning is false, because once we grow to love a person we are not likely to want that person’s death.
As these thoughts raced through my mind, words suddenly spilled from my lips.
“I’m Marius, don’t you remember me?” I said. “You took me to the Grove of the Old God, you gave me to him, and I escaped.” I was appalled at the hostility with which I’d spoken.
He cloaked his thoughts completely, and I couldn’t tell whether he had known me by my appearance or not. He spoke quickly in Latin.
“Yes, you abandoned the grove. You abandoned all those who worshiped you. You took the power given you, and what did you leave for the Faithful of the Forest? What did you give back?”
“And you, my precious Druid priest,” I said, “do you serve your old gods? Is that what has brought you to Rome?” My voice was quaking with anger, and I felt the weakness of it. I struggled to regain clarity and strength. “When I knew you, you were pure of heart. Seldom have I ever known any creature more deluded, more given over to comforts and illusions of religion as you were.” I stopped. I had to check myself, and I did.
“The old religion is gone,” he said furiously. “The Romans have taken even our most secret places. Their cities are everywhere. And thieving barbarians swoop down upon us from across the Danube. And the Christians, the Christians come into places where the Romans are not. There is no stopping the Christians.”
His voice grew louder, even though it had taken on the tone of a whisper.
“But it was you, Marius,” he said, “you, who corrupted me. It was you, Marius, who poisoned me, it was you who divided me from the Faithful of the Forest, you who gave me dreams of greater things!”
He was as angry as I was. He was trembling. And as often happens with two people who are quarreling, this anger produced a good calm in me. I was able to sink my enmity down into myself with that little resolve, You can always kill him later, and so I went on.
The other creature looked quite surprised by all this and fascinated with an almost childlike expression on his face.
“What you’re saying is nonsense,” I answered. “I ought to destroy you. It would be an easy thing for me to do.”
“Very well then, try,” he answered.
The other one reached from behind and put his hand on that of Mael.
“No, listen to me, both of you,” he said in a kindly rather deep voice. “Don’t go on with this quarrel. However we came to the Dark Blood, either through lies or violence, it has made us immortal. Are we to be so ungrateful?”
“I’m not ungrateful,” I said, “but I owe my debt to fate, not to Mael. Nevertheless, I’m lonely for your company. That’s the truth of it. Come to my house. I’ll never harm anyone who comes as a guest under my roof.”
I had quite surprised myself by this little speech but it was the truth.
“You have a house in this city?” asked Mael. “What do you mean by a house?”
“I have a house, a comfortable house. I bid you to come and talk to me. I have a pleasant garden with beautiful fountains. I have slaves. They are simple-minded. The light is pleasant. The garden is full of night-blooming flowers. Come.”
The one with the black hair was openly surprised as he had been before.
“I want to come,” he said, glancing at Mael, though he still stood behind him. His voice had an authority to it, a pure strength, though it was soft.
Mael was rigid and helpless in