Chapter Twenty Four
In the dark silence of the mine, Junius could hear his breathing; it was ragged and it matched the pounding of his heart. Pain raced through his body, cramping his muscles and tearing his tendons, but the worst part of it was the icy coldness that was creeping into his flesh and penetrating his organs. It hurt; in truth, it was beyond pain. Another sensation ripped through his flesh, causing his skin to buckle and ripple. The agony was unbearable, but moving was worse. He clutched the hard rock with his hands and felt his body twist and judder again at the changes taking place within.
He was scared, terrified in fact. The coldness was filling every nerve and fibre of his being, freezing his mind and stopping him thinking. But his face was the worst; it felt as if the flesh was searing and being torn away. Frantically, he clutched at the floor with his hands, desperate to find purchase and get to his feet to stop this horrific process. It hadn’t been like this before, it had been the opposite, pleasurable and sensual.
Junius stared up at his maker, willing him to make it stop, but he knew that there was nothing Isher-Dan could do. A spasm jolted the thought from his mind and once again, he felt the pain blistering through him. He cried out, unable to hold back his fear and horror any longer, but there was no relief from his agony; the movement caused his body to twist and cramp as tendon and muscles buckled and rippled. He grabbed at the floor, but found that his nails were scraping it instead. The noise was horrific, but strangely satisfying and it distracted from the torture of the coldness still seeping insidiously across his body. But Isher–Dan was smiling and looking relieved and then Junius finally understood what was happening; it would be worth the agony, he told himself. With what little control he had over his body, he tried to reassure the Kin leader that he was all right, but the movement caused a reaction inside him which rendered any form of communication impossible.
The muscles in his neck bulged and his mouth flew open, the pain in his jaw was staggering, but this time he knew what it was. He felt the thrill of anticipation as the flesh inside his mouth tingled and the teeth grew out of his jaw. He wasn’t cold any more, he realised, his temperature was just right. He felt wonderful. Strong, powerful and very, very hungry.
Instinct took over and he threw his head back as the final transformations seared through his body. Now the changes were enjoyable, they were making him stronger, leaner, faster, a pure predator of the night. A creature born from darkness to live by moonlight for its own pleasure and gratification. Once again he obeyed the impulse to shriek, he did it again and again, as the changes settled upon him and he fully embraced them.
His name was forgotten, it didn’t matter any more; he was Kin. They were all one and the same, his mind was melded with theirs now, his thoughts became theirs and their knowledge part of his. A shared unity where all were equal, and part of the whole. But he didn’t care about that right now. He had only one thing that he needed to do and he had to do that soon before it tore him apart.
He opened his eyes to see his maker staring over him. “I’m hungry. I need to feed.”
Isher–Dan nodded and gracefully got to his feet. He found a discarded tunic and handed it to him. “They’re still fighting out there. You’ll have to keep away from that.
“Marcus. You do remember your name, don’t you?” Isher–Dan asked him suddenly.
He couldn’t. Names didn’t matter, only the hunger. But to please his maker he nodded his head.
The older Kin gave a sigh of relief. “That’s a relief, sometimes the mind is damaged in the transformation and the individuality lost for a while, though it comes back after a time, but I’d hate that you happen to you, Marcus.”
Isher-Dan led him out through the dark passages, which seemed as bright as daylight now, to the entrance of the mine. Other Kin were sitting in groups and they acknowledged him as they passed. But he didn’t care, he ignored them, the only thing he could focus on was blood, nothing else mattered other than blood. He could feel their sympathy and understanding in his mind and also Isher-Dan’s frustration that he was refusing to engage in any conversation.
There wasn’t a moon, but the night wasn’t dark to his eyes any more. He opened his mouth and tasted the scent of the animals close by. He hadn’t known he could do that, but it seemed natural to do so. Their smell made his mouth water in anticipation of the hot spurting blood that he’d soon be consuming. Eagerly he began to move, but his maker held him back.
“Marcus, we’ll be in the higher caves as we agreed. Take as much as you want tonight, but make sure that you leave plenty of time to get to the inaccessible caves. We’ll be waiting there for you. Your friend and his men will kill you if they find you in here or the other caves.”
Then Isher-Dan took his hand away and he was free. Without looking back, he loped off into the night, desperate to sate his hunger. The night was alive with animals, but the one creature that he so desperately wanted wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity. However, there were plenty of them in the fort, which was surrounded by fire and waiting Kin.
He stopped and looked across the hillside towards the blazing settlement. Something deep down stirred in his memory, and for a moment he worried at it, then dismissed it as an animal’s scent triggered the hunger again.
The animal was a boar, hot, angry and deadly, but close to humans. With a grin he began to stalk the swine. This was fun, he decided. His legs moved with a fluidity that was new and gave him a loping gait that covered the ground quickly. Now he knew why the Kin had been able to travel so far in one night. It would be easy to catch the boar and drain its blood and then… then he might try to find some humans.
The animal was completely unaware that it was being hunted and it trotted obliviously across an open field and disappeared into the forest again. He was about to follow, when his attention was caught by the fire which he’d inadvertently come closer to.
Something was definitely wrong about what was happening over there. It made him anxious, and he didn’t want to be worried, all he wanted to do was feed. But this urgency was pulling at him. He didn’t know what to do, how could he help a burning human building? He should be helping the Kin who were gathered around waiting for the men inside to come out, because when they did they would swoop and he could feed as well.
The boar was forgotten, he’d join his fellows and wait for the inevitable fall of the fort and feast with them on the humans inside. The satisfaction of drinking the blood of the men who had murdered so many of his Kin would be worth the wait. Deciding that, he loped across the field and took his place with the waiting Kin who welcomed him without question.
Several gave him sustenance as they waited, but his hunger wasn’t abated by their generosity. It had to be rich, warm and human, the blood of mortals. Nothing else would suffice. But he was getting restless waiting here, Isher–Dan had warned him about being out and about too long but that had been before the Romans were going to die.
Again a memory stirred inside him as he watched the men desperately pouring water down the wooden walls of the encampment and yelling in their Latin tongue for more.
This was wrong, he knew that. It shouldn’t be happening. But why it was wrong, he had no idea. Furtively, he glanced around at the other Kin, but they weren’t angry at him, in fact they seemed oblivious to his thoughts. Curious, he sent out a question. “How much longer? I’m hungry.”
Instantly, they responded assuring him that he would be able to feed soon, but when he replied that he was the youngest and in the greatest need, so they should let him feed first, they didn’t respond. They couldn’t hear him, he realised, not unless he projected his thoughts. Which meant that he was closed off to them and that again triggered a memory.
Perplexed, he sat down on the grass, but still toyed with the numerous questions playing on his mind. He drew his legs up and put his arms around them but noticed something strange: before his eyes the flesh was reappearing and covering his skeletal limbs. He held them up an
d stared. There was no question about it, the transformation was receding and his humanity reasserting itself. If he didn’t take human blood soon, the process would fail. Once again he would be Marcus. That was the name Isher-Dan had called him. It was his name, but that wasn’t his only name, he had others. For a moment he couldn’t remember them, then suddenly they tumbled into his mind. Marcus. That was his real name, though only a few people called him that. Marcus Junius Silanus and he was Roman. From the Junii family. That filled him with pride; they were an old family, rich, well connected and powerful. They certainly wouldn’t be pleased to know that their eldest son and future patriarch was in a field thirsting after human blood. Shame filled him and he slowly rose to his feet.
He was remembering; it was all coming back to him and now he understood why he was here. He didn’t belong anywhere, he was neither Kin nor Roman, but something in between. He’d hoped that becoming Kin would somehow make an eternity of pleasure bearable, but instead it had wiped his mind, and turned him into nothing more than a witless animal. He always refused to give his mind to Isher-Dan, but it had happened anyway and he’d completely lost himself. It hadn’t been like that in Parthia and there was no way he was risking losing his individuality again, but at the same time he still wouldn’t be able to live a normal life in Rome considering what he was.
Suddenly the Kin around him shrieked and he heard their delight in his mind. A building next to the fort was ablaze and the sparks were being carried by the wind in the direction of the wall. There were wooden buildings inside Salinae, all it would take was for one to catch and the fire would spread and the men inside would be forced to evacuate or die a horrible agonising death.
Marius. Marius was in there and fighting to stay alive. They’d been through so much together and he could honestly say that he loved the man like a brother. He couldn’t let Marius die, or the other men with him. They were needed to save Rome. And that prompted the other memories to come tumbling back and he remembered why he was really standing in a field watching a Roman fort and vicus burn to the ground, surrounded by creatures from the deepest crevices of Hades.
He had to do something. But one man or one half Kin couldn’t put out the fire that blazed around the base of the encampment. He couldn’t make it rain, but he knew a way to get water. He could see that the men had plenty of water because they were pouring it down the sides of the wall in a desperate attempt to stop it catching light. Every Roman fort was built by a reliable water source and he’d learnt from the Kin that the river behind Salinae had been split to provide water to the fort and the settlement. The Romans had built a weir to moderate the flow and that had created an expanse of water, almost the size of a lake, which could be used in the summer when the water table was lower.
Junius smiled. It might not be much, but it might be enough to flood the settlement and put the fires out. It had to be worth the chance. Silently he moved backwards, then once clear of the Kin, he half loped and half ran through the trees following the directions he picked up from the shared memories.
It was darker now as his eyesight was fading, but it was still manageable. Even after he’d come back from Parthia his night vision had been better, so the gods only knew what side effects he’d have to live with after this latest experience. But somehow he’d have to cope because he couldn’t bear to try again and risk losing himself like that. Even if it meant that he was consigned to a twilight world where he belonged with neither people but moved between the two.
Eventually he came to the weir. It was exactly as he’d been shown. The river had been split into two channels; the smaller one led to the fort where it disappeared under the walls and another bigger channel skirted the settlement. The weir itself was solidity built from stone and was big enough for two men to walk across side by side. In the middle was a large handle, which controlled the flow of the water. In winter, when there was plenty, they kept the gate partially open, so that the river didn’t flood, but in summer when rainfall was less, the gate was pulled out so that there was enough water for the fort and the settlement.
Junius walked carefully across the stone construction and hunched down next to the handle of the gate. Two men were supposed to lift this, but he was alone. For the moment though, this wouldn’t be a problem because the Kin were stronger than normal men so he might as well put his transformation to work.
Gripping hold with both hands Junius pulled; almost immediately the gate moved, and the stream of water increased, but it wasn’t enough. He yanked again and this time the gate came straight out of its slot and almost made him lose his balance. Somehow he righted himself and dropped the gate onto the stone, so it could be used to reduce the flow later. The water thundered and shook the weir as it poured through the opening and surged like a living thing along the channels, frothing and foaming as if it revelled in its freedom.
Junius surveyed his work: already the water was breaking the banks of the smaller channel, and soon the other one would run over as well. Satisfied he’d done the best he could for Marius, he continued across the walkway, but he’d forgotten that the wet wooden gate was lying in his path. He stepped on it and lost his footing. For a moment he scrambled for his balance, grabbing in vain at thin air, and then he plunged into the rushing water. The shock forced the air from his body and he was sucked down by the undertow, swept away at the mercy of the current