Immortal Confessions Read online

  I decided before I left to make a meal of him and make it look like an accident. I was willing to take a lot of insults in the name of survival, but never for my voice or choice of music.

  “I will sing whatever you wish, Lord. I know of the usual marriage songs, and of the spring songs that are customary for this time of year.”

  The lord looked down his nose at me. “Take yourself to the kitchen. The cook will have leftovers from tonight’s meal for you. That is all you will get, until after your performance the first night, when we determine that you are performing to par.”

  Now I was definitely going to kill him. “Agreed, lord.”

  I took my leave of him, smiling to a group of maids who were gawking at me shyly. They giggled and ran off. I rolled my eyes, letting my nose take me to the kitchen. If I were in luck, there would be some blood there.

  I was in luck. A pig had been killed, and the blood saved for some kind of cooking garnish. It seemed odd to me they would choose that as a garnish, but then I’d never paid much attention to what went on in the kitchens. Centuries ago, maids had brought me meals; my mother had never cooked one. She was too busy living the court life, trying to curry favor with my father in a desperate attempt to forget about his many lovers...

  I’m getting diverted again. My apologies.

  I swiped the pig’s blood, replacing it with a little wine. Drinking it quickly, I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling it renewing me: my hair growing out another inch, my weighty feeling dissipating. My stubble remained unchanged. It was as long as it ever got, this beard of mine that was almost a beard, but not quite.

  I wandered into the lower halls, looking for a place to sleep. I found a serving wench there who liked my attributes. I quoted her a few verses, and soon, she was leading me to her room.

  I always preferred a bed, if I could procure one. But any place safe from the sun would be adequate.

  * * * *

  The next morning, the wench rose at dawn. I looked at her groggily, prompting her to assure me I could stay there while she was about her duties.

  “You’re welcome to return here after you’re singing tonight,” she added quickly.

  Ahh, yes, I was still the rake I’d been when I was mortal. “Thank you.”

  She left, and I went back to sleep.

  Soon enough, it was night and time for work. I felt with irritation that I’d picked up some lice and fleas from her straw tick bed. Who knew how long it had been since it had been changed? Maybe not since last harvest, more than six months ago. Ugh.

  I grimaced, dressed in my outer clothes, and grabbed my underclothes. At the nearest trough in the inner courtyard, I washed them and myself. It was little better than keeping the vermin, but I detested the feeling of anything crawling on me. I would hang my long johns near the heat of the kitchen fire, where they would dry soon enough. Luckily, it never bothered me to be without undergarments.

  I was just finishing washing up when I heard a horse neigh. I looked up to see a man coming into the square. His bearing said he was at least a Lord Magistrate. But by his clothing, the quality of his horse, and his many men, I was guessing he was probably a lord.

  He was blond like me, his hair a little longer, as was the current style, and his eyes a rich blue color almost like the sky. He was not as handsome as I was, which gratified me as much as it always did.

  He shifted his eyes in my direction and I looked away, because to be caught staring at him might be cause for a whipping, especially if he saw the insolent look I was giving him. He dismounted, and walked through the main gate, his guards behind him.

  “Good evening, sweet bard.”

  I looked over to see my serving wench gazing at me with desire. I returned her lustful glance, even as I mentally rolled my eyes.

  * * * *

  Later that night, I discovered that the young man was Marcus, betrothed-to-be of the young daughter, and that her name was Annabelle. It was true the first time I saw her I was not impressed. I’d bedded many women over the years, and gotten an appreciation for the female form. Her hair was an ordinary brown color, and her face was not graceful, or striking, as I preferred my women to be. But her body was lush and full, despite she was very young, only twenty. To be fair, in those times that was old to be unmarried. That meant there must be some truth to the gypsy’s story, as her dowry would be a large one, just to make sure the pact was sealed completely. An unmarried daughter was a liability, unless she went to a nunnery, and even then, there was no return on investment, just the relief in knowing that another mouth would not have to be fed, or a body clothed.

  I sang that night as if I were ecstatic to be there, standing in piles of discarded food, and spilled wine. I was a success, at least by the cheers and clapping I received. Reminding myself that it was just for a few nights, I graciously accepted the accolades, thinking repeatedly that I’d be on my way soon, away from this place and these disgusting people.

  I could not make myself return to the serving wench’s vermin ridden bed. Luck was with me, as I received an invitation from one of the ladies in waiting to join her for the night. She was comely enough, though fairly simple-minded. To add to that, she believed that I would get her with child, despite my attempts to persuade her otherwise, and she drank some herbs that I knew to be sometimes toxic. I let her, hoping she didn’t die during the night. I made love to her with the same false passion I’d sung with downstairs, and before long, she was snoring peacefully beside me.

  I was tired enough to sleep, but made myself stay awake. I had to think. I had a plan to prepare.

  I’d seen no treasure. The dowry had been mentioned once, but only remarked on in regards to size. That was no help. I sighed, and relaxed near her, telling myself I could do one more night. It was only one more night.

  * * * *

  As before, I passed the day in the lady’s room. She had been pleased with my performance, and asked me to stay while I was performing, with the express understanding that after the festivities were done, I had to be on my way. I agreed wholeheartedly. It was worth it to sleep in a comfortable bed again, or at least, one that was not lice-ridden.

  I spent the next night singing, and began to learn more. Apparently, the bridegroom was early. More irritating, the bulk of the treasure wasn’t even here, it was some five days on the road behind him. To pay the dowry, the bride’s father had called in debts owed to him, and some of his debtors had been slow to pay. That news threw a cramp into my plans.

  At least waiting wasn’t a problem, now I had a place to stay. I’d been paid well that second night, enough to buy some newer clothes, and a thin bar of soap. The problem was always the same one in castles and settlements: blood.

  I could’ve taken some from my lover, sure. But I was ravenous and would need to drain her, especially after all the demands she’d made of me nightly. For reasons I’ve mentioned previously, I couldn’t do that, or settle for sipping from several people, even if I healed them after. I had to hunt, to bring down game. To do that, I had to get outside the wall at night.

  * * * *

  Again, Fate was with me. I chanced upon the Lord Magistrate out inspecting his men late the next evening, and marked where he went when he made his rounds. In the course of his inspection, he paused several moments near a back wall, as if checking something. After he continued on, I went to investigate. As I’d hoped, there was indeed a small back door in the castle wall. The problem was a large iron padlock.

  The loathsome man likely kept the only key around his neck. Unfortunately for him, I’d long since adapted to handling locked doors. As soon as no one was watching, I opened it with a pick from my pocket and ventured outside. Within an hour, I’d killed a few rabbits and drained them. Strengthened by their blood, I then brought down a deer, and gorged myself.

  I lay there for a while, thinking of my next actions. Deciding a few coins were worth the small trouble, I dressed the animals. Carrying them, I made my way back to the castle, and snuck ba
ck inside the walls.

  I brought the carcasses to the kitchen, and the night cook was pleased, if surprised. She gave me coin for the flesh with no questions, and I gratefully took it.

  I was tired by then and eager to rest. It was as I was walking upstairs to the coquette’s bed that I caught the sound of voices.

  “I’m afraid,” a young feminine voice said. “I don’t want to do this.”

  “You must,” a masculine voice said firmly.

  Young lovers, out for her first time. I’d just avoid them.

  “No.”

  “Anna, you must. Our fathers wish it. And you’ve known me since you were young.”

  “I have, Marcus. I think of you as a brother. But I don’t love you. I don’t want to be your wife.”

  This was expected. Most arranged marriages were not met with glee, but sullen acquiescence. Long ago, I’d faced the prospect of my own the same way.

  “We’ll have a good life together, Anna.”

  “I don’t want a good life,” she said stridently. “I want a great one. I want to see more than the inside of a house, and to do sewing! I want to read!”

  This was not expected. I listened harder.

  “Anna, you’ll learn to read, if you wish. I’ll teach you. But your place is with me, and to be mother to my children. Don’t you want that?”

  “No,” Anna said, nearly inaudibly. “I’m not sure I do. And perhaps there is something wrong with me, that I don’t desire motherhood, the way my sisters did. Their reason for being was to birth children, and to be wives. But I want more than that.”

  Interesting. Perhaps I could use this to my advantage.

  I waited until Marcus left. Anna was walking through the hallway, when I abruptly moved in front of her. She let out a gasp, and shrank back.

  “Sorry, milady,” I said gallantly. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I offer my apologies.”

  “Accepted,” she said simply, looking at me with suspicious big brown eyes. “Now please let me pass.”

  At least her eyes were pretty. “Would you like me to read to you?” I offered quickly. “I could teach you, if you wish.”

  She looked at me with more suspicion. “Why? You do not know me, sir, and no man or woman offers a favor without expecting something in return.”

  I looked at her in surprise, and then laughed richly. “So jaded, for one so young! You misunderstand: I don’t want anything, just time with you. It is admirable, that you want to be able to appreciate the written word, when so many women these days do not.”

  That was a lie, of course. But in order to get her to trust me, I had to spend time with her. This one was not going to be persuaded by my normal means.

  “I should not,” she said, in a tone that said she was thinking about it. “My father would disapprove.”

  “I promise I’ll not touch you, not even your hand. Where is the harm in that?” I said cajolingly.

  I saw her give in first in her eyes, before she nodded. “Very well.”

  She took me to her father’s study, handed me a book of poetry, and then looked at me expectantly.

  I’d taught my brother Danial to read. It had been much like this with him, all those years ago. I opened the book, and began.

  By the end of that night, we’d mastered a few lines, and she could recognize most letters. She was smart and she wanted badly to learn, both of which speeded her comprehension. I was pleased about that, as it made my teaching easier.

  I was not pleased she was perceptive. “You are of noble birth, aren’t you?” she said as she shut her father’s study door behind us.

  I didn’t look at her. “I was.”

  “And I am not the first you taught to read.”

  Now I was melancholy. “No,” I said in an old voice. “My brother was. He’s dead. All my family is dead.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, touching my arm gently. Her hand was warm on my cool flesh, which she noticed at once. She looked at me oddly. “You’re chilled. Where do you sleep?”

  Awkward to admit, unless I understated things. “I pay one of the maids to bunk with her. It surpasses sleeping on the floor.” And being burned by sunlight. Castles had no curtains, and it being spring, the tapestries had been taken down.

  “Good night, then,” she said, and walked away.

  Not bad, for a first night. Of course, when I got to my lover’s bed, she was livid. “Where have you been!” she hissed at me. “I’ve waited for you for hours!”

  “Bringing you coin,” I said soothingly, handing her a fifth of what I’d received for the animals. “I thought it the least I could do, for your generosity. I set some snares, and caught a few rabbits.”

  She looked at me grumpily, but I kissed her in practiced motion. Before long, she was in a much better mood.

  * * * *

  A week passed. I met with Anna every night. She mastered the written word almost supernaturally fast. This was partly because we’d only read one book of poetry, and the author of that book tended to use the same words in all of his writings. But on the whole, it was remarkable progress for a woman, even for a smart one. I told her this in more flattering words, and it seemed to please her.

  I found myself liking Anna. She was the typical youngest daughter of a nobleman: haughty, but also good, kind, and a little naughty from being ignored most of her life. None of the things she related to me in whispers were very bad. They were the kind of childish exploits that seem large to a young girl and absurd to someone much older. Nevertheless, I was amused to hear her tale of caring for an injured crow, the rumor she’d started about a rival that had caused her not to leave her room for days, and the story of setting the tapestry near the main fireplace alight with a carelessly dropped brand.

  I also noticed that she seemed to like me. That was expected, as I listened to her as no one else probably did. Plus, I was very attractive, which was always a help.

  Finally, I found out from her what I wanted to know. The treasure was due to arrive the next day in a large caravan. Irritatingly, the real treasure was not in the caravan, but in a purse the lead man was carrying. It was loose jewels, principally sapphires and diamonds. That purse was worth ten times what the rest was worth.

  Relieved, I made plans to get word to the gypsies. That would mean sneaking out this very night, and trying to find their headman after feeding. I’d need to go right now, because even leaving immediately I’d be hard pressed to make it back inside the walls before dawn...

  “I must go,” I said, getting up. “I must hunt.”

  “Hunt what?”

  I hadn’t meant to make that slip. A blush suffused my face, shocking me. I hadn’t blushed for a hundred years, easily.

  “Devlin?”

  “I hunt for deer, to supplement my income,” I said as convincingly as I could muster. “I have needed new boots for a while now, Milady.”

  “I see,” she said, after a moment. “It’s true yours are of an ancient style.”

  That was true. I didn’t want to wear the newer style boots, with the short tops and higher heel. I’d always preferred my full leg boots. They’d saved my legs from burning many a time, when I’d woken up to find I’d rolled outside a shelter in my sleep, and the lower part of me was laying in the dawn’s weak light.

  “I’ll leave you, Lady. Good night.”

  “Here,” she said. “Take this, for your assistance to me.” She handed me a heavy purse of gold cloth.

  I knew at once it easily contained enough coin for some new boots, and I was unsure how to react. Part of me told me to refuse it, because I had been bred better than to take money from a woman. The practical side of me told me to take it, because with it, there would be no more lugging deer back though the forest for a few coins.

  I took the middle road. “Keep your money, Anna. We are not done with your lessons. In another few days, we will be, and if you are satisfied, you can give me the money then.”

  She took her purse back, a measure of respect
in her eyes. “Agreed.”

  * * * *

  A few more days went by, and still the caravan did not arrive. This was due to strong thunderstorms and lightning, which turned most peasants into groveling cowards and all roads into quagmires. The weather turned cold suddenly again, bringing a thick covering of snow and ice that further delayed my plans. So I waited, gritting my fangs. And somewhere in those few days, something changed.

  I felt a growing fondness for Anna. When I found myself closing my eyes with my lady in waiting as I loved her, so that I might pretend it was Anna beneath me, I knew something was wrong with me. I’d never cared before who I bedded. For whatever reason, I cared now.

  Looking back, it was the beginning of love. I’d never been in love before. I was used to cold women like my mother, and though I’d bedded many women of all classes, I’d never taken the time to get to know any of them. Anna’s passion came through in her lessons, in her strong voice as she read the poetry aloud to me. That made me want her, because in her was something of myself, how I had been long ago. So I decided before I left, I’d do my best to bed her at least once.

  A few days later, I pronounced her proficient, even though she was really just passable. But our time together had run out, as the jewels were due to arrive in less than two days, at least if the dry warmer weather held. I needed my remaining nights—what was not already taken up with feeding, making love, and performing—to plan my departure. I’d met up with the gypsy in the forest a few nights ago, and told him to expect the carriage. It was then I’d found the plan had changed.

  “We’ll get the purse, and the caravan before it reaches the castle,” he’d said, pleased. “We’ll meet you in a week hence, a day’s walk to the East. There, we’ll give you your share.”

  I was surprised to hear he meant it. That became irritation when he went on to talk of me joining them, as Maris had talked of nothing but me since our time together. It was no surprise he wanted me to marry her, though he made it sound as if it was a good business proposition.