Chapter 339 - Irema part 5

Day came, but after our skirmish with the Uroborans, Irema and Tapas were reluctant to stop. They both needed rest. I could tell by the way they grunted as they leapt from tree to tree or climbed some steep escarpment, but neither was willing to give the God King's warriors a chance to catch up with us again. "We might not be so lucky next time," Tapas said. "Next time there might be Eternals."

That was the real danger. Irema and Tapas would stand no chance against even a solitary Eternal. Eternals could not be killed. Their injuries healed as fast as you could make them. And they were incredibly strong and fast. Tapas was strong, and Irema had some strange knack for slipping out of sight when you weren't looking directly at her, but they were still no match for an Eternal. Even if he could not overpower them, a Master could simply wear them down, just keep coming at them and coming at them until they were too exhausted to resist.

So they continued on, even after the sun flashed over the rugged line of the horizon, driving golden needles into their sensitive vampire eyes. They pulled their cowls over their heads, tilted their heads to the ground and kept moving.

By midmorning, we had passed through the sub-Mediterranean forest that bounded the Black Sea and set out across the great steppelands of the God King's easternmost territories. This geographic area is known as the Pontic-Caspian Steppe now— encompassing the lands of Cimmeria, Scythia and Sarmatia of Classical antiquity. That vast ocean of grass covered an area of some nine hundred thousand square kilometers. It was an arid, windswept plain, too dry to nurture forest but too moist to turn to desert. We made good time after we hit the steppes, passing the halfway point between Uroboros and Asharoth by nightfall. Tapas nabbed our dinner, a dying old man from a passing tribe of nomadic horsemen. We fed on him quickly and then continued on until daybreak, our path lit by a bright summer moon.

When day rolled back around again, Irema conceded defeat.

"I can't go any further, Tapas," she groaned. "I need to sleep."

"Then you must sleep," Tapas said without hesitation.

There were no caves to be found on that vast ocean of grass. Instead, Tapas and Irema constructed a small lean-to in a dry riverbed, draping their cloaks across a frame of interlocked tree branches. It was too scant to shelter them much from the elements but it did offer some respite from the sun. Imagine two hot pokers shoved into your eyes; that is what it is like for us to walk in the daylight. Irema crawled into the little shelter with a sigh and Tapas lay down beside her. The giant had no intention of sleeping but Irema was too exhausted to notice. He waited until she had gone still and then eased back out of the shelter. He took my head from the sack and climbed quietly onto the bank of the ravine.

He crossed his legs and settled my head in his lap, snuggling me between his thighs like an egg in a nest (uncomfortably close to that elephantine phallus). "Help me to watch for our enemies, Old One," he said with a tired exhalation. "The sun dazzles my eyes. I am all but blind during the daylight hours." I popped my lips in acknowledgement and we sat like that for most of the afternoon, black tears beading on our lashes as the sun blazed down and the wind swept rippling patterns of light and shadow across the vast flat steppe. The clouds drifted across the heavens and their shadows drifted across the earth. Our view was far and unobstructed. If the God King's men did catch our trail, we would see them coming from a long way away.

"Auntie Fate has had great sport with us, has She not?" Tapas murmured. He kept his voice low so as not to disturb Irema. "I was a son and then a husband, and then I was a father and a slave. Now I am a god and a husband again, chosen mate of both your granddaughters. Has Fate been as fickle with you, my friend?"

My head was turned so that he could not see my eyes. I popped my lips instead—once, to signify assent. He chuckled ruefully. One can only laugh at the caprices of Fate. Shaking your fist leads only to exhaustion.

"I thought as much," he said. "I sensed a kindred spirit in you. Even when I saw you among those accursed Oombai. I could tell that you were not like the other blood drinkers. I could see how their cruelty filled you with disgust. And, of course, you had the boy with you. Ilio. He was a mortal then. Many T'Sukuru keep mortals as pets, but that was not how it was with you. You were fathering the boy."

I tried to father the boy. And when he grew into a man, I took him to the Oombai, thinking he would be accepted by them, that he might find a wife and lead a normal mortal life. But the Oombai elders betrayed us, and Ilio was mortally wounded in the melee. That was the night Tapas was referring to. The night I first saw the giant, a Neirie slave, mating with animals for the entertainment of his Oombai masters. I gave Ilio the Living Blood to save his life. My first vampire child. Ilio lived another twenty years before Khronos seduced him and destroyed him before my eyes. Almost a full mortal lifespan. He had a wife, children. Perhaps I did not do so poorly. Only I felt that I had wronged him. I felt that I had wronged him terribly. And the guilt that I felt at the mention of his name was like a physical blow. A lethal blow.

"He is dead now, isn't he? Ilio, your son?" Tapas said. "The God King destroyed him."

I popped my lips.

Tapas sighed. "We thought as much when he did not return to us, but we did not know. Not for certain. He is the one who made me a blood drinker, you know."

I did not know that. I was a little surprised that Ilio had made such a powerful T'Sukuru. Tapas was very near to being an Eternal. The Living Blood had stopped just shy of making him a god. But who else could have done it? Until I met Zenzele, Ilio and I were the only vampires I knew. There were not many wild blood drinkers in those days. Most were allied with the God King. And those who did not swear allegiance to him were destroyed.

"I can tell you how it came to pass, but it would probably be easier if I just Shared with you," Tapas said. "You can Share, can you not? I know it does not come easily for some."

I popped my lips. Yes, I could Share.

"Is it safe to do it, as weak as you are?" Tapas asked. "Perhaps it would be better to wait until your body is restored to you. Then we can Share with each other, if you'd like."

I signaled that, yes, it would probably be better to wait, and yes, I would like to Share with the giant when I was restored.

"Ilio, my maker, Shared even with his mortal victims," the giant went on, his voice thoughtful, a little melancholy. "It was a terrible strain on his spirit towards the end. He did not take blood nearly often enough, because of his curse. He starved himself for long stretches of time. He was a fine, brave man, my maker. It pains my heart that he is dead. It is like losing a father. I am an orphan now."

My heart hurt for him, too.

We sat in silence then and watched the wind comb through the grassland.