Chapter 81 - The Last Mammoth Hunter part 7

After the boy fell asleep, I rose silently and stole from the camp. The blood-hunger was clamoring in my belly, and I feared my resolve. I hunted the dark tundra, seeking my evening meal of the region's wildlife, as I had done in the past when I watched over the River People from my mountain refuge. 

I flew in great leaps and bounds, my hair streaming out behind me, and came across a small herd of reindeer gathered by a frosted pool. The animal I took was large and full of blood. As its herd thundered away, I tore open its neck and drank until my belly was quivering, then I used my superhuman strength to rip away its haunch, which I carried back to the fire with me. I planned to cook the loin for the boy in the morning, when he awoke.

Feeling more sure of myself, I got comfortable by the fire and waited for sunrise to come. It would be uncomfortable for me to move about in daylight. The light would sting my eyes. But for his sake, I would do it. Watching him sleep across the fire from me, I felt a great swell of protectiveness rise up in my heart for him.

I had done so much to harm him, but no more.

Ilio… so small and fragile, more child than man. This hunt was surely the first expedition he'd gone on. To my way of thinking, he hardly seemed big enough to leave his mother's side. None of the men I'd stalked had seemed particularly mindful of the child, as a father should be. He'd seemed more a tagalong than anything else. Perhaps he was an orphan and was being raised by the hunting men in his tribe.

The boy slept through the night as I watched over him. When dawn broke, I built up the fire and spit the deer haunch over it.

Ilio slept until full daylight, then rose up with a lurch, confused and frightened. He blinked at the steppes surrounding us on all sides as if he could not believe he'd lived to see another day.

I smiled and nodded at him, pointing at the deer meat roasting over the fire. I rubbed my belly and licked my lips in an exaggerated manner.

Ilio smiled back shyly. He sat up in his furs, his curly dark hair smashed flat on one side and sticking up in spikes on the other. His face was puffy with sleep, his eyes red and swollen.

I tore off a hunk of steaming meat and passed it to him. He murmured something in his alien tongue and ate hungrily, smacking his lips and then licking the grease from his fingers when it was gone. He looked at me imploringly, speaking some more words I did not understand, but I recognized the tone of his speech and gave him a second helping.

He was much happier when his belly was full. For a while, we played the game of naming things, learning one another's language. He pointed to the fire and said, "Stoh," and I mimicked him, saying the River People word for it: "Echah." He pulled up a hank of grass. "Sah." I patted the grass. "Ess" I ignored the pain stabbing in my eyes from the sunlight as we continued with the naming game. The word for sky was "enghoi". That bird flying there in the enghoi was called "creewah". My mind held onto every word he taught me. Vampires retain information very easily. The dark blood inside us preserves our memories in much the same manner that it preserves our flesh, I suppose.

After an hour, he said he needed to do something I didn't understand. I watched as he rose and walked away from the fire a little ways.

He didn't move too far away. I think he was worried the monster who'd killed his companions would try and get him if he went too far. He looked all around and then, keeping an eye on me nervously, he pulled out his little boy penis and began to urinate.

Ah! That's what that word meant! "T'sitz"!

He finished quickly and returned to the fire. I fed him some more and we continued with the naming game as we rose and put out the fire and gathered our belongings.

He pointed south and said, "I want/need to—something-something." I shrugged and nodded and we began to walk south.

He latched onto me quickly, as children are wont to do. By nightfall, I'd learned enough of his tongue that we could maintain a basic dialogue.

He was still fearful that first day. Even as we walked further and further south, his eyes roved to and fro without cease, scanning our surroundings for the monster who'd killed his companions. When he needed to void his bowels, he strayed only a little distance, and he watched me the whole time to make sure I didn't turn my eyes away from him. The rest of the day, he stayed within arm's length. He even gave me his spear to carry. I'm a tall, broad-shouldered man. Perhaps he believed I was big enough to protect him if the monster attacked us.

As the sun began to set, he clung even closer to me. Almost underfoot. We gathered tinder together for our fire, speaking haltingly.

"There… get stick," I said.

"Okay."

"Let's make fire now."

I gave him the rest of the meat when night fell, which he devoured ravenously. We made a big fire, but he sat right beside me anyway, staring out at the dark with barely concealed terror.

His fear shamed me afresh. I listened and nodded solemnly as he tried to explain the terrible things that had befallen his hunting party, the monster who had stalked and killed his family. I did my best to comfort and reassure him, though I was hesitant to touch him more than necessary. I was afraid he would notice the chill of my flesh, its horrid and inhuman texture.

So far he had displayed no suspicion that I was anything more than a living man. If he noticed the pallor of my skin, or the strange way my eyes glinted, he gave no sign of it. It was the dark he feared, or more exactly, the monster he imagined in the dark, the misshapen thing he'd seen squashed to the rocks.

But I was growing hungry as well. My appetite for blood was mounting with the night. His nearness tortured me. I'm ashamed to say, the smell of his blood made my mouth water. I sat stiffly beside him, afraid I would lose control of myself if I touched him. I couldn't bear the thought of harming him.

He put my self-control to the test, however, when it came time to sleep. He insisted we lie next to one another near the fire, shaking his head stubbornly when I gestured for him to sleep apart from me.

"Please," he begged, "I'm afraid it will get me. It comes at night." His eyes were so large and terrified, I could do nothing but acquiesce to his wishes.

We lay down side-by-side under the stars. He asked me to do something I didn't understand. Then, when he tapped his lips and made a humming sound, I realized what he wanted and couldn't help but smile. Nodding, I began to sing the lullaby for him. He was really too old for lullabies, but I was happy to do something to comfort him, considering the weight of my offenses.

He listened, staring gravely at the stars overhead, his fur drawn up to his chin.

He looked so like my boys Hun and Gavid that when he finally dozed, I couldn't help but stroke his dark curls back from his brow.

I waited for his sleep to deepen, and then I rose and went to hunt. As I did the night before, I brought food back to the camp for him, meat and some mushrooms I'd discovered growing on an outcrop of rocks. I slipped quietly beside him.

The fire was low and rosy. I watched the air ripple with the heat, the rhythmic way the embers glowed and dimmed inside the flames. Ilio turned over suddenly and squeezed up close to me, making me stiffen in alarm. But my belly was full of reindeer blood and my flesh was soft and warm with it. I felt no urge to drink his blood, as full as I was, and I suppose I felt like a normal man to him, at least for the moment.

It felt good to me. So good, in fact, I might have wept. It had been so long since I held my children in my arms. My mind crowded with memories, memories which were as sweet as they were heartbreaking. I put my arm over him. I held him close as he slept, thinking of the children I'd lost to time.