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it had awakened in him at the onset of puberty. In the safety of his ma'aram's
large holdings in the Mar'ajanate of Danae he had been fed on criminals,
slaves and those of her political rivals unfortunate enough to fall into her
hands. His ma'aram, Aevrina Coleth had been among the first Sharani ruling
nobles to be successfully subverted by the Waejontori. When her coup failed,
Aevrina had been executed and her lands forfeit. That was in the early days of
the Great War. Despite this, Mephistis felt certain that if they could reach
Danae, he could find allies there, as not all of his ma'aram's supporters had
been uncovered. They would help him escape to Waejontori held territory.
They turned northwest, striking out through the woodlands toward Danae in
late afternoon. Then his only worry would be to find some isolated village or
human habitation before nightfall when Margren would awaken ravenous: if she
rose without other food, she would try to eat him or Bodramet. While he had no
compunctions about giving her Bodramet, he preferred otherwise as he might
need the sa'necari to help him reach his allies; more to the point though,
sa'necari blood was very potent and he did not want Margren to become too
strong, too fast since that would make her harder to handle.
Luck was with him and they found an isolated farmstead just as the sun was
setting. The two-story building had stonewalls with a thatched and wattled
roof. Bodramet started for the door, grinning hugely.
"No," Mephistis shook his head. "I want you well away from here until dawn.
She'll wake soon. Besides, I saw several people in the fields, more than
enough to sate you."
Bodramet nodded. He did not want to deal with a revenant as potentially
powerful as Margren. He remounted and rode off into the fields, back the way
they had come: they had seen someone working out there. Mephistis knocked on
the door. A large, muscular farmer answered. Her dark hair was caught in a
tail at her neck.
"What do you want?" She asked suspiciously.
Mephistis smiled serenely. "You," he said, his hand darting out so quickly
she could not react before he caressed her cheek and took her mind.
Her mouth went slack, her eyes dulled.
He scanned the cottage. The first floor was a single room filled with four
chairs covered in wooly throws, a spinning wheel with a basket of wool near a
large loom with a half finished cloth in a bright geometric pattern. To the
right of it all was the hearth with a bubbling cauldron of stew that smelled
like cooking mutton and a table. A narrow stair started midway between the
dining area and the workspace. The bedrooms were upstairs.
"Follow me," Mephistis gestured. The farmer stepped outside and, at Mephistis
gesture and nod, retrieved Margren's body. They took her in and laid her out
between the chairs in the workspace. Mephistis unwrapped her nude body,
straightening her limbs, running his fingers through her hair. Once Margren
was satiated, he would try to calm her and bring her mind back. Even should
she resist and remain a revenant for eternity, he could not bear to harm her.
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He would always love her.
"Sit," he told the farmer who obeyed without a sound. "Are there children?"
The farmer nodded.
"How many?"
"Three."
"Ages?"
"Four, six, and fourteen."
A smile broadened. Perhaps he could keep the oldest as a treat if he could
control Margren. Mephistis' body had begun to ache and burn at midday, lending
credence to the old stories of death from mortgiefan theft. Certainly the pain
was getting worse and not better. He needed to secure the children. Mephistis
started up the stairs. The upper floor was divided into two bedrooms. He heard
a rustle in the room to his left and snatched the doorknob with a yank. It did
not open. He could tell by the way it pulled that someone had put a chair
under the knob. The door was sturdy enough to have held a normal mon for
several minutes: but the sa'necari's strength was far beyond that of mere
humans. He kicked it hard, shattering the door and the chair both. A youth was
lowering the six year old out the window while the four year old crouched
terrified beside her.
"You next," the youth said, grasping the child by the hands.
"Neither of you next." Mephistis snarled. He was on them in a flash, jerking
the child from her sister's grasp and throwing her across the room. He grabbed
at the youth, but she kicked him in the face, whirled, and went out the
window. Mephistis cursed as he peered down at them. They paused to quickly
exchange words, and then raced off. Margren was too close to rising for him to
go after them. Behind him the four year old sobbed in terror. Mephistis knelt
beside her, stilling her sobs with the touch of his hands and mind. She
crumpled. He closed the window, sealing it with a spell. He wondered briefly,
as he entered the next room to seal it, how Bodramet was doing with those
still out in the field. With any luck, the escaped children would head for the
fields and Bodramet would kill them. Counting the beds, he realized there were
three more adults still out there. Three farmers would be no problem for
Bodramet; in fact Bodramet would feast while Mephistis would probably have to
content himself with the stew instead of blood.
Mephistis brought the four year old down and laid her silent, bespelled form
beside Margren. Margren's corpse began to stir and he retreated to the door,
which he sealed with a spell. Margren could not leave this hovel now. He would
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