Fools, these Mortals

Iago Chapter Ten

My mind whirled further in this tornado of thought, my head the unwanted pressure centre. The devilishly divine Desdemona beckoned, and for once, I welcomed her distracting nature away from my demons for a more familiar one. Since my eyes first beheld her, she was a divergence. A symptom of my weakened willpower. Throughout my servitude, she rose to Othello at court. Securing her marriage like a coo with Othello, Desdemona was a menace. Always keeping a pace to the ever-changing landscape of vampire politics. Now, she held more sway over Othello than I did.

There were few who I anointed the title of enemy and she was crowned many years ago. She had taken Othello away from me. Soon Desdemona would be dethroned and banished from thought, and I will sleep easier than death. She was the epitome of why women couldn't be trusted. Regardless of status or species. Desdemona taught me that life lesson, and even though I despised her, I couldn't help but hold slight gratitude. She opened my eyes to the weapons at the disposal of women. The only person I could trust was myself. I needed only my own council. Through my own effort and shared history with Othello, his gift of sustainerhood had rotted, turning me into a castaway, and I had only myself to rise to my position at court. No one aided me, nor did I wish for it. I was self-made.

Lost in thought, it was no wonder I made it to the women's quarters of the castle so quickly. Snatching a stray cloth piece on the way and wedging it against my bleeding arm trying to clot, it would have to do until I could find the healing salve to seal it shut. The north wing temporarily housed the sparse human women and almost always accommodated the females due to give birth. There were never more than three at a time at the castle. No matter their religious leanings, all vampires were fascinated by a human birthing. Most of the women die. Of course, vampires have the wealth to buy the equipment that may have saved countless lives, but that wouldn't benefit them, as this superior race had no urge to grow in their knowledge. Vampires preferred the natural way, that Sycorax detained which mother lived or died. As Sycorax Herself was without relief or aid during Caliban's birth as the tales go, the general consensus being why should mortal women be given what their Mother was without. From personal experience, never had I seen so much drool dripping from a "civilised" vampire courtier than at a public birthing. Othello once described it as an intoxicating experience, one to never miss, as he wiped drool from his face, fangs stubborn to retract back into his skull.

It is in this wing of the castle that Desdemona holds power alongside Queen Gertrude's daughters. Specialising match making humans to give them beautiful offspring for themselves to raise as their own. The female vampires kept a close eye on the bloodlines of the humans in Illyria. As new blood comes to the island periodically, the vampires can plan and force certain humans to breed. They had heard of inbreeding in the mainland monarch's past and strove to avoid such a calamity. Such blood of unholy union would surely cause a mass poisoning, at least a weakened stock. Anything that threatened the vampire was obliterated, even down to the free will of each mortal.

But the mortal women eventually put their pampered feet down. They wanted a right to whom they would share their beds, with the power of exempting men from serving at the castle to better attend to the women in the town. A cushy job, rarely bestowed on the bought prisoners. If a human criminal had a trade and was here via tax evasion, that man was safe for life, more or less. In return, the women would promise so many children for the vampire court to raise and turn for their own, if they so desired. It led to the creation of the festival in the town. Held every human's six years, the townsfolk would get drunk with abandon, to dance and barter for the man of their choosing. It was nothing short of a stud auction. It was such events like these that made me wonder which gender was most at the vampire's whim. Probably both. Yet, the women had the sugared stick end. Still no human child had been reported as born in the last twelve years, and pressure was now more than ever pressed upon the servants to fill the numbers for the Hunt.