The Story of the Vampire, L (Completed | Featured )

Part 3 - Praeceptor

"Dominus." His cheeks flushed and he shut his eyes again, tightly, embarrassed.

"Look on me. You will be Vivacio's second. You belong to him now. You will be as his shadow. It will be in you to anticipate his whims and desires before he has them. It will be your duty to make a study of Man and his needs. That is the job of steward. That is what he is. You are as a river reed, stiff in body yet swaying at the slightest blow of the wind. Go in the wind's direction, and your duty will be done. Do you acknowledge this? Your nature is more resistent to a man's authority than is desirable in such a position as you are offered."

"I swear to every word, dominus," he said softly, stock still. 

"Understand that you serve my interests, and that any step out of line lowers me. I hear that you like to have a drink. If you embarrass me due to drink, I will whip you myself."

"Such would be my horror, sir. I will never drink again."

"'Yes, dominus' is sufficient. Speak less. You have a tendency to hyperbolize. Check it." Before the boy could get out Yes, dominus again, I said, "Vasvius, attend me. Where is Escha?"

"I don't know, sir. He went to market this morning with the others."

Iovita had turned his head when Vasvius spoke, and then he turned back to me, mouth open.

"Close your mouth."

"Pardon me, sir. Is he not back yet? Sometimes he runs off when we go into the city. Usually, he makes his way back on his own, ten steps behind us."

There was silence a moment, but the boy could not stop talking. 

"Please excuse me, I'll go get him. I know where he'll be. If Vivacio goes he'll hurt him. I have got to get him back here before Vivacio finds out. Please let me."

"You love him."

"He's a pest and he's got some kind of crush on me, but he's sweet, sir."

"Your duty is at table. Vasvius, assist me in dressing. Tunic. I will go out."

Back still turned, Vasvius nodded, "Yes, dominus."

***

As evening fell, and the light grew long and thick with many colors, the temple of Hercules loomed ahead of me. The city was quiet as night approached, men shuttered in their homes with their families, as the city proper was a colony of workingmen. The rich were in the hills, on the cliffs, overlooking the sea, my villa one of many warmly lit points of color, loud with the drunken revelry of Romans down for summer. But I was glad to be absent from the singing and feasting, unwilling to imbibe, or engage in flattery, chattering about price and market.

The houses were stacked three high, made of wood timber and crumbling cement stone. Scrapwood shutters covered the windows, pulled tight against the chill from the evening sea, but many voices came to my sharpened ears nonethless, many languages on the breeze. There were sometimes a scattering of sheep clustered in this or that courtyard, humming their baas to each other when I looked in, safe from the wolves which could occasionally be heard in the hills. A goat might look on me as I went by, its iron bell thudding an uncertain greeting. As I passed silently through the gridded streets of Herculaneum, I took off my sandals and held them by their cords in my left hand, wanting to touch the wide, uneven cobblestones with my feet. After the heavy odors of fish and many spices, the breeze from the sea was a pleasure to breathe, washing my insides of the permeating stench. 

In Herculaneum, the temple of Hercules was centrally placed, though, as is always the case, it being a place of cultural importance meant it was often empty. Iovita had intimated to me, standing against the wall near my cubiculum door, that Escha seemed to be drawn there, and had often been collected nearby. "He's sensitive. Be kind to him, master."