Blood and Gold - Anne Rice [83]
I remained silent out of respect for her. I couldn’t help but glance at Avicus again. He was all but weeping. She had possession of him, heart and soul.
“Why did I go back to Alexandria after this terrible loss?” she asked wearily. “Because the temple blood drinkers had told me that the Mother was the Queen of all. Because they had spoken of the sun and of our burning. And I knew that something must have befallen our Mother, something had caused this Great Fire, and that only those in the temple would know what it was. And there was a pain in my flesh, by no means unbearable, but something which I would have healed by the Mother, if I had found her there.”
I said nothing.
In all the years since I’d taken Those Who Must Be Kept, I had never come upon such a creature as this woman. And I should say as well that never had such a blood drinker come upon me.
Never had anyone come armed with such eloquence, or history, or old poetry such as this.
“For centuries,” I said, my voice low and gentle, “I kept the Mother and Father in Antioch. Other blood drinkers found me—warlike and violent creatures, creatures badly burnt and bound upon stealing the strong blood. But you, you never came.”
She shook her head in negation.
“Never did Antioch enter my thoughts,” she confessed. “I believed that you had taken the Mother and Father to Rome. Marius, the Roman, that is what they called you. Marius, the Roman, has taken the Mother and the Father. And so you see, I made a severe error in going to the Imperial City, and after that I went to Crete, and I was never to be close to you, never to find you by the Mind Gift, never to hear tell of where you might be.
“But I was not always searching for the Mother and Father,” she said. “I had my passions. I made blood drinkers to be my companions. The centuries healed me as you have seen. I am now far stronger than you are, Marius. I am infinitely stronger than your companions. And though touched by your fine Patrician manners and your old-fashioned Latin, and by the devotion of your friend, Avicus, I must lay down for you some hard terms.”
“How so, Eudoxia?” I asked calmly.
Mael was in a rage.
She was quiet for a long moment, during which her small delicate features wore nothing but an expression of sweetness and kindness, and then she said with courtesy:
“Give over the Mother and Father to me, Marius, or I shall destroy you and your companions. You will not be allowed either to stay or to go.”
I could see the shock in Avicus. As for Mael he was, thank the gods, dumbfounded. And as for me, I was again stunned.
I waited several moments, and then I asked:
“Why do you want the Mother and Father, Eudoxia?”
“Oh, Marius,” she shook her head crossly, “don’t play the fool. You know the Mother’s blood is the strongest. I’ve already told you that every time I ever appealed to her, she gave me the welcoming gesture, and allowed me to drink. I want her because I want the power in her. And also because I would not have this King and Queen, who can be burnt again or put in the sun, given over to others who might do such rash things.”
“Have you thought this through?” I asked coldly. “How would you keep the shrine secret? From what I’ve seen of your blood drinker companions, they are almost children both in mortal years and in the Blood. Do you know the weight of this burden?”
“I knew it before you ever existed,” she said, her face suffused with anger. “You play with me, Marius. And I won’t have it. I know what’s in your heart. You won’t give up the Mother because you won’t give up the blood.”
“Perhaps so, Eudoxia,” I said, straining to remain civil. “I want time to consider what has been said here.”
“No, I give you no time,” she said, her voice angry, a blush coming to her cheeks. “Answer me now, or I destroy you.”
Her rage was so sudden it caught me off guard. Yet quickly, I recovered.
“And how do you mean to do this?” I asked.
Mael jumped to his feet, and moved behind his chair. I gestured for him to be