Aris Returns (17 page)

I prepared for an ocean voyage. When the weather broke, we set sail. The trip was
uneventful with calm seas and quiet nights. I walked on deck staring through the black
sky at the radiance of the stars. I longed to share my thoughts with one who would
understand.

“You understand, do you not, dear Sarah? I am able to share my thoughts, my very being
with you.”

She was always stunned when he returned to the present during one of his soliloquies.
She thought about his question and after a moment, answered, “Yes, of course.”

“And why is that, do you think? How are you able to accept me and what I am without
fear?”

She was silent again.
“Sarah?”

“I don’t know, Aris.” She sighed. “Perhaps I’m not sure you are
more than a figment of the imagination of a very troubled young man in the twenty
first century.”

“Is that what you hope?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know what I hope. This is all so surreal to me.”

“Surreal? This is a word with which I am not familiar. What does it mean?”

She thought a moment before she answered, “It means something that is outside of space
and time.”

“Yes Sarah, I am something outside of space and time.”
The room was silent as she watched the face of the present day man holding the soul
of one other who was not hampered by human constraints.
“And one day, dearest Sarah, you will understand.”

“I will understand?”

“Yes, my stories will ring true for you at last.”

“Are they stories, Aris, or are they reality?”

“That is for you to decide, isn’t it? Now, where were we?”

Oh yes, the sea journey was easy, without incident. We landed on a day early in the
afternoon and were taken to court. There we were given our rooms and bid to rest until
evening. There was to be a feast and masque. It was then we would see the King for
the first time.

I waited until I was sure I could leave the palace without question, then went in
search of the Catacombs. All afternoon I roamed the gardens, not knowing what I was
looking for or how I would recognize it if I found it. But I knew I would never give
up until I made contact with those of my kind who were able to teach me. During my
wanderings, a few small animals darted close enough for me to catch them and feed.
Survival was simple if all I felt was the thirst. The hunger had not consumed me for
some time. I was grateful animal blood was enough for my sustenance at the moment.

As an early autumn twilight began to cover the gardens with a soft gray blanket, I
hurried back to my rooms to prepare for the evening.

Such an evening. A feast was laid out on gold plate. Meat dishes by the score, game,
fowl and fish. Puddings. All for the humans. What for the vampire? I looked around
me at the rich silks of the women’s gowns. Some wore hoods encrusted with diamonds.
The diamonds sparkled in the lights of a thousand candles. I could see their pulses
beating in their throats as they danced with their heads lifted high. I began to feel
the hunger, the pain crept inside my belly. The fire began to burn.

Quickly I excused myself from my troop and rose to leave the great hall. Just as I
stood, the King’s fanfare issued from trumpets announcing the arrival of Henry VIII.
I stopped where I stood and bowed. As I rose, I came face to face with Henry. Our
eyes locked for a brief moment. He smiled and walked on. I recognized the greatness
of the man in that singular glance.

Then, too, I had my first glimpse of Anne Boleyn. She was small, angular and had a
sharp jaw and narrow, dark eyes. Yet she was graceful. She carried herself as royalty
even while Katherine was still Queen. Henry whispered something to her and she laughed.
She glanced over her shoulder at me. She nodded her head in agreement as she turned
again to answer the King. I knew they spoke of me and it was a concern.

When the King and his mistress, as she was called by the court, were seated and the
feast began, I begged an excuse to my men and left the hall, the hunger in my belly
growing more and more demanding. It had been months since I needed to feed on a human.
I dreaded the time when I would be driven to drink human blood. And relished it.

The time was now close to being upon me. I hurried into the darkness of the palace
garden and found a deer that had wandered from the woods.

I took it down. Cleanly. Painlessly. I drained it there within earshot of the great
hall. My need diminished as the animal blood gave me sustenance. I could subsist on
it for a while longer until the right moment, yet I knew I would need to take human
life again, soon.

I hurried through the palace to my rooms. I entered the retiring room,
a lit fire warmed the chill from the stone walls. A table and chairs sat in front
of the fire with small ale, bread and cheese waiting for me. I smiled when I thought
of what I wish had been waiting there for me.”

He was silent until she spoke, “And what was that?”

“The throat of one of those lovely ladies who had been at the King’s dinner.”

Sarah gasped. She took a moment to compose herself, then spoke. “Please continue,
Aris.”

The table was set but I did not crave the food. I turned one of the chairs to the
fire and sat, stretching my long legs out before me. I was warmed and as comfortable
as I could be in the circumstances. I was unable to feed on human blood until I knew
it would never be found out. All eyes were upon me as a newcomer from the Spanish
court. I could not leave the palace grounds at night without someone seeing. I was
well aware of idle gossip from my life in Spain. The stable boy would tell a maid
who would tell a cook who would tell a ladies maid who would tell her lady. And there
it would be. Why would someone from the Spanish envoy ride out late at night? I knew
no one in England. I knew they would think me a spy for the Emperor.

I sat watching the embers snap and glow. A soft rustle behind me alerted me someone
was in the room. I turned quickly to see Richard and Gabriela standing just inside
the open, mullioned window.

As I rose to greet them, they moved toward me. Their greeting was warm and I felt
they were pleased to see me. I asked how they had come to find me. How they entered
my rooms.

“We saw you in the garden,” Richard replied. “We followed you here and waited until
there was no one outside. We came in the window.” He pointed behind him.

I was astonished. The window was in the tower, very high above the courtyard. “How
did you manage that,” I asked.

“We are able to cling to stone and climb much like a spider.” Gabriela answered, her
accompanying laughter, a lilting, musical sound. “You
have so much to learn.”

I assured them the reason I traveled all the way to London to meet the rest of my
kind was to learn all there was to know about my new un-life. Gabriela moved forward,
reaching out her hand to touch my arm.

Her face softened. She told me they came to help me, to take me to the coven.

A loud rap at the door interrupted our discourse and a voice called out. It was the
King’s messenger. The two visitors locked eyes for less than a moment. They moved
quickly to disappear out the window as I crossed the room to the door and unlatched
it.

The courier handed me an envelope with a royal seal. He tipped his head respectfully
as he backed from the room. I closed the door, latched it then sat in a chair by the
fire.

I opened the envelope. It was the King’s command to appear before the court to represent
Spain in the royal joust on the following day. At first I was glad of heart until
I realized the smell of human blood would be everywhere. Was I doomed? Could I withstand
the temptation?

The morning came. The serving boy brought fresh cheese and bread. I would rather have
had the serving boy for breakfast but I thought better of it. After a time, I called
for a page to ask him to show me to the audience chamber. It was there I met many
of the knights who would ride in the joust. There was laughter and banter as we prepared
for our feats of prowess. By the time we walked to the jousting yard, it was as comrades
at arms.

The day was bright blue with a sprinkling of white clouds floating in a perfect sky.
The master of the horse chose an enormous stallion as my charger. He was magnificent,
full of fire and power. He was just the horse I would have chosen for myself.

A fanfare blared from the trumpets as the King and Anne entered the arena. Her head
held high, she rested her small hand on his extended arm. He was dressed in splendor,
his huge athletic frame spoke volumes about the man. They mounted the steps leading
to their place, sheltered
under a golden canopy to protect them from the sun. They settled into their great
chairs. Anne smiled at the King as he grasped her hand in his. It was easy to see
that in his eyes, she was his Queen already.

The opening ceremonies completed, another fanfare and the two who were first at the
joust took their places. The trumpets sounded once again; the enormous horses began
their thundering race, carrying their knights on their sturdy backs. A crash as one
of the men was unhorsed. He fell hard, lay in the dirt for just a moment, then rose
and was helped off the field by his page. He limped and so I knew he had been hurt
but there was no smell of blood about him. Time after time, man after man, one unhorsed,
the other proud of his victory.

As the sun rose in the sky, my moment was at hand. I mounted and the feel of the strong
beast beneath me was invigorating. I held my lance and slid my hand along the shaft,
finding the perfect balance point. The trumpets blared as I heeled my horse. We raced
along the wooden rail, dust flying in our wake. I lifted my lance and at the perfect
moment, jammed it hard into the chest of my opponent. With a cry, he fell from his
horse. Just as he touched the ground, his animal reared, forelegs beating the air.
In a flurry of hooves and broken metal, the huge stallion trampled his rider. The
scent of blood was everywhere. It surrounded me, filled me with wild lust and desire.
I sprang from my horse, jumping over the rail. Just as I neared his broken body, he
was lifted on a litter and carried away. Unable to contain my need, I followed as
they transported him to the stable. He cried out in pain. He was broken, dying, It
was only a matter of time before he would expire and those moments would be spent
in agony.

They rested the litter in the hay and stood back to watch his death throes. Incensed,
I screamed at them to leave, to allow this brave knight to die in peace. He thrashed
on the makeshift bed. His movement tore his wounds even more. I was hardly able to
contain myself until the last man left. Once I was alone with my opponent, I crept
near to him.

“Kill me,” he begged me. “Please, the pain. Please kill me.”

Without thought I would be seen, overcome by bloodlust, I buried my face in his throat.
The smell of him drove me to madness. I moaned as I began to drain him. Quickly I
brought about his death, his final rest.

I fell back on the bed of hay to wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. A few precious
drops of blood smeared across my skin. I licked the flesh of my knuckles then my lips.
I was satiated at last, the need for human blood met. And no one was the wiser.

I walked from the stable and found his page. “He is dead,” I spoke the words as I
walked away.

T
he night was cool so she pulled the blanket close around her shoulders. She loved
to sleep with the window open, to hear the faint sounds of the city in the distance.
From her pillow she could see the lighted windows in the buildings that shared her
neighborhood. It gave her a secure feeling to know other people were still awake so
very late at night.

Yet the darkness of her bedroom and comfort of her bed didn’t halt the struggling
of her mind. Thoughts swirled in her head making her feel dizzy. Could Aris be real?
More likely, he was a subconscious desire Carlos had to feel invincible in a world
where he felt so vulnerable. As a twenty-first century person, believing in the undead
was almost unthinkable. What was the answer? Carlos knew nothing about Tudor England
or Alexander the Great for that matter. Where did his information come from if not
from Aris? She researched all the history he shared. Each and every story was based
on fact. Not fact about vampires to be sure, but facts about times, places and people.

Aris was a tragic figure. His life was stolen from him when he was just a young man
about the same age as Carlos. He wasn’t a demon by choice, but by fate. Turning to
face the window, she thought of Carlos. What was the connection between the two, the
man and
the vampire? Each one was a victim of circumstance. Would further regressions bring
light on the association?

In a state of confusion and mental exhaustion, she fell into a fitful sleep.

#

She knew she was dreaming because she would never go to the zoo if she was awake.
It pained her to even think of the animals, caged, living a life so different than
the one nature had planned for them, as Aris was living a life different than he had
planned. The evening sky was the shade of dusty indigo blue. There were just a few
solitary stars and the walkway was illuminated with old fashioned, softly lit street
lights. A fingernail moon sliced the darkness; a gentle breeze rustled her hair as
she walked along.