Blood and Gold - Anne Rice [38]
He had indeed finished.
I thought of my own existence, my life crowded with so much reading and wandering and with so many questions, and I felt utter pity for him along with my contempt.
Meanwhile the expression on the face of Avicus touched me.
Avicus looked thoughtful and compassionate when he looked at Mael; but then his eyes fell on me and his face quickened.
“And how does the world seem to you, Avicus?” I asked.
At once Mael shot me a glance and then he rose from his chair and came towards me, bending over me, his hand out as if he would strike me.
“This is what you have to say to my story?” he demanded. “You ask of him how he sees the world?”
I didn’t answer. I saw my blunder, and had to admit to myself that it wasn’t deliberate. But I did wish to hurt him, there was no doubt of it. And this I had done.
Avicus had risen to his feet.
He came to Mael and guided him back, away from me.
“Quiet, my beloved one,” he said gently to Mael. He drew Mael back to his chair. “Let us talk some more before we part with Marius. We have till morning. Please, be calm.”
I realized then what had so infuriated Mael. It was not that he thought I had ignored him. He knew better. It was jealousy. He thought that I was trying to woo away from him his friend.
As soon as Mael had taken his chair again, Avicus looked to me almost warmly.
“The world is marvelous, Marius,” he said placidly. “I come to it as a blind man after a miracle. I remember nothing of my mortal life except that it was in Egypt. And that I was not myself from Egypt. I am afraid now to go there. I am afraid old gods linger there. We travel the cities of the Empire, except for the cities of Egypt. And there is much for us to see.”
Mael was still suspicious. He drew his ragged and filthy cloak up around him as though he might at any moment take his leave.
As for Avicus he looked more than ever comfortable, though he was barefoot and as dirty as Mael.
“Whenever we have come upon blood drinkers,” said Avicus, “which isn’t often, I have feared them, that they would know me for a renegade god.”
He said this with considerable strength and confidence so it surprised me.
“But this is never the case,” he continued. “And sometimes they speak of the Good Mother and the old worship when the gods would drink the blood of the Evil Doer, but they know less of it than me.”
“What do you know, Avicus?” I asked boldly.
He considered as if he weren’t quite sure that he wanted to answer me with truth. Then he spoke.
“I think I was brought before her,” he said, his dark eyes rather open and honest.
Mael turned to him sharply, as if he meant to strike him for his frankness, but Avicus went on.
“She was very beautiful. But my gaze was lowered. I couldn’t really see her. And they were saying words, and the chanting was frightening to me. I was a grown man, that much I know, and they humiliated me. They spoke of honors that were curses. I may have dreamt the rest.”
“We’ve been here long enough,” said Mael suddenly. “I want to go.”
He rose to his feet and quite reluctantly Avicus followed.
There passed between us, Avicus and me, something silent and secretive, which Mael could not interrupt. Mael knew it, I think, and he was in a sustained fury, but he couldn’t prevent it. It was done.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” said Avicus, reaching out to take my hand. He looked almost cheerful for a moment. “Sometimes I remember little mortal customs. I remember touching hands in this way.”
Mael was in a pale rage.
Of course there was much I wanted to say to Avicus but I knew now that such was very simply impossible.
“Remember,” I said to both of them, “I live as a mortal man lives, with the same comforts. And I have my studies always, my books here, you see. Eventually I will travel the Empire, but for now Rome, the city of my birth, is my home. What I learn is what matters to me. What I see with these eyes.”
I looked from one to the other of them.
“You can live in this way if you like,” I said. “Surely you must take fresh garments