Treatise on the Ethics of Vampires - eight

eight

Excitement shot through me, made my fingertips tingle in anticipation of adventure. After this past week, nay, past three years, I gladly put the past behind me for the time being and embrace the future. Perhaps a future of blending in with the plebes and being like everyone else is just what I needed. For me, it was a happy thought.

Rowan arose and slipped his feet into dark leather ankle boots. “I shall return in a few moments. Be ready.”

I nodded, although I wasn't sure what he meant by being ready, so I took the opportunity to use the chamber pot. True to his word, he returned shortly with a bundle of clothing he tossed onto the bed. “Change.. I have business to attend,” He turned around abruptly and shut the door behind him softly. With curiosity, I tore into the bundle of clothing, revealing a short chemise, a green tunic, woolen hose of a mid-brown color, a worn leather belt and small length of cloth, which I used to bind my hair away from my face. I dressed as ordered, and put the hood of my cloak up, obscuring my features.

He came back into the room with his cloak bundled in his arms, and looked me over. “Excellent, you look like a lad of fourteen!” Rowan's demeanor changed, and he asked, “Have you any experience with any weapons? Knife, staff or crossbow perhaps?” His brow knit together in anticipation of my answer.

“Yes, knife. My father taught me, but I do not wear one.” The blade Father forged for me was now in my herb chest, wrapped in linen. The thought of defiling that blade with blood is what prompted its current locale. I much preferred to use it for cutting bandages than flesh. I know herbs more than surgery.

He smiled. “Starting now, you wear one.” He unfolded his cloak, and handed me an item it hid. ”How proficient are you with a blade?”

It was my turn to smile. “Care to find out?”

“That good, eh?” He asked with a trace of humor in his voice. Those green eyes searched my face for any sign of jesting.

“My father was a smithy. He made me a blade when I was five and taught me to use it. Test me if you will. My skills are not lacking.” And with that, I unsheathed the knife he bestowed upon me, noting the balance and how well the hilt fit into my hand. A plain blade, but well-made and sharp. I twirled it between my fingers, all the while looking at him, clinging to my last remnant of rage, so that I didn't get lost in those eyes. I flipped the knife in the air and caught the blade with the sheath. “Will that do?”

He grinned and replied, “More than admirably. I've paid up for the stay and a basket of victuals until we reach Hareflot. The wagon has already been loaded onto the ship, and the horses are saddled.” As he spoke, I strapped on the belt with the knife sheath attached.

My heart beat a tempo akin to the sound of a galloping horse's hooves and the excitement built up inside me. “I am ready.” And I was. Garbed as someone else, it made this adventure more exciting and I reveled in every moment. I cared not that I had never been astride a horse, but I would learn. Adapting to this new-found life of intrigue was easier than I thought possible.

“No you are not. After you leave this room, you will no longer be Lisbet, my wife. You will be my young cousin Willem, who speaks very little in front of others. We mustn't allow anyone to glean who you are.”

I didn't fully understand why my sex must be secreted upon this journey to his home. Granted there was a war going on, but surely French soldiers wouldn't harass French citizens going to their home? However I was intrigued at the thought of playing someone else for a bit. In the best light, it would give me an opportunity to adjust to being someone normal.

Rowan led me out the stable, where his two black geldings stood saddled. It was the first time I saw them without the heavy collars around their silken necks and the closer I got to those beasts, the larger they seemed. My step slowed as I neared the horses.

Rowan didn't notice. He reached the closest horse and scratched it between the eyes and on the neck, under the glossy black mane. “This is Benkamin.” He then reached over and paid attention to the other horse, waiting patiently. “And this is Jubal.”

The animals intimidated me. Even standing there, with only tails and ears flicking, they seemed a docile behemoth capable of tramping me to death beneath the wagon wheel-sized feet. It was little reassurance that they did not have pointy teeth or claws instead of hooves. But still, the mountains of soon-to-be prancing flesh were a beautiful sight to behold.

“Come now,” Rowan beckoned me forth. “Come meet your mount.”

I gathered my fleeing sense of adventure and walked with a determined step towards the horses. I stood little higher than the shoulder of Jubal. The horse jerked his head away from Rowan's gentle hand and towards me. He butted me in the chest with his snout, and I grew panicked. “What does it want? Is it trying to make a meal of me?”

“Relax, Lisbet. Jubal just wants an apple from you.” Rowan reached into the pack hanging from the saddle and brought forth two brown apples. He held one out, telling me, “Feed this to him before he steals it from me. He likes sweet apples, especially from pretty maids.”

I took the apple from his hand, and held it out to the horse. With a horsey-kind of grin, Jubal took the apple and munched it.

“Now touch him. Try under his mane. The rogue loves it there.”

Under Rowan's tutelage, I touched and spoke to the horse, who seemed to enjoy my tentative ministrations. Then came the words that made my heart pound in excitement. “Time to mount up.”

Rowan cupped his hands and gave me a lift. I swung my leg awkwardly over Jubal's back and got situated in the broad saddle of tooled leather. Rowan then reached around me to fasten a rope about my waist that was tethered to the saddle. He then took my cloak and arranged it so the rope didn't show. “As soon as we arrive and the horses secured aboard, we sail. We shall travel quickly. Rest will be had once we reach Lonbec. Trust no one but myself.”

He then mounted Benkamin, and pressed his heels into the horse's side. I mimicked Rowan, and Jubal began to move beneath me. Exhilaration poured forth as I felt the steady gait jolt through my bones.

We rode down the road a ways and turned a corner, until we neared a dock that had a single masted ship tethered to the quay. There was a board going from shore to ship, and it looked not nearly sturdy enough to support the weight of the horses.

As furtively as I could, I untied the rope around my waist, and then pondered how I was to make my descent from Jubal's back. Rowan interceded, and helped lift me down. My booted feet hit the ground and I looked up to his face. His hands rose and drew my hood down, as it nearly slipped to reveal more than he was willing to share.

The quay was made of weathered planks that undulated with the water. Rowan tied a strip of fabric over Benkamin's eyes and led the horse up the plank leading to the ship's deck. After securing the horse, he did the same to Jubal. I followed after, heart in throat as water splashed beneath my feet.

The first mate led Rowan and I to a wee cabin with a narrow cot that was attached to the wall and a sling of fabric was hung across the space. It was small, dank, and smelt of mildew and mouse urine.

But it led further from Buckfast and from the life I possessed as something dreaded. My future awaited on the horizon... provided the ship didn't sink in the night.

I sat on the cot and looked to Rowan, who smiled down at me.

“Ready for your adventure to begin, Madame D'Morsang?”

“Silly me, I thought it already had.”