~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Dark Shadows”

by Alice Montrose

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Prologue

Caius Iulius Caesar, conqueror of Gaul, gathered the folds of his red wool cloak around him; in spite of Syria being a warm province, a sudden chill had possessed his body.

Located on the western coast of the Mediterranean Sea, Syria was one of the border provinces between the Roman Empire and the vast lands of Asia, a gateway to the riches of the east. Caesar was pursuing the dream of a lifetime: Persia. By conquering this barbarian kingdom, he would be as great as Alexander.

But while his legions were enjoying the local hospitality, he was not at all happy. For he was faced with one major problem – the great Persian army, and especially its military leader, General Atarx. The man was just as much a bright strategist as Caesar himself, and had the advantage of fighting on known territory. Caesar had faced worse, he knew; but he had been younger then, and old age had made him unsure of the final outcome of this final battle.

He had decided that the only way out of this, without risking everything, was to get rid of the man quietly. The problem with that plan was that there was no way for an assassin to get anywhere near the Persian without risking exposure.

He wrapped his arms around himself. The main room in thetemple of Iupiter was getting colder, and he did not want to be there. He was tired of waiting.

It had been four days since his message had been sent, a scroll written and wrapped after precise instructions which would allow it to reach the right persons. Four sleepless nights spent in the temple, waiting for a sign from the one he had asked for help and guidance. He had repeated the words like a prayer, yet no one had come to answer them. He was not even sure if the creature had not been just a creation of his thirty-two year-old mind.

He took a few reluctant steps towards the exit, but he was halted by a voice as chill as the night and as silent as the wind that echoed in his ears. “Where to so hastily, Caius Iulius Caesar?”

The voice sent shivers down his spine; turning he faced the source, a slim figure in the shadows of the temple’s columns. He should have heard footsteps, sensed a presence – he had not. For once, he was genuinely afraid. As far as he knew, these creatures did not do polite conversation frequently.

There was silent laughter, as if it had read his thoughts. The figure stepped forward gracefully, until it stood only a few paces away from the Roman. The General took a step back as if bitten, but movement in the shadows around them let him know they were not alone. He distinguished a few other figures in the darkness, keeping away from the torchlight.

The creature standing in front of him spoke again. “Why are you thinking of escape? We have no intention to harm you.” The others’ laughter echoed in the large marble space all around them.

Caesar’s voice shivered as he replied, part anger… and part fear. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“We are those you have summoned, General. And I believe it is you who wants something from us.”

A slender hand came up through the thick folds of the black cloak, fingernails glowing a dark colour as the creature removed the hood of its cloak. Then he looked up at the taller man, a wicked grin crossing his blood-red lips. The milky-white skin glowed faintly in the dim light, and the dark eyes shone discretely, holding much more knowledge than one would attribute to such a youthful face.

The Roman sighed in relief, even if he knew safety was illusory. He also realized that, in spite of the three decades that had passed since their last encounter, the youth’s features had not changed at all.

He laughed at his stupidity. This was by no means a young man, and certainly not human. A blood-drinker, he reminded himself; a dangerous predator.

The Dark Prince of Antioch smiled again, and waited for his petitioner to speak first.

“You have not changed at all,” Caesar challenged.

“You have changed a lot. You look much older.” The affirmation was accompanied by another outburst of laughter from the shadowy figures, but a firm gesture of the Prince stopped it promptly.

The Roman did not like being reminded of his age. But he swallowed it down, afraid that a few careless words might ruin everything. “I – I did not think you would come… after all this time…”

Again, a faint smile. “The great Iulius Caesar, afraid of a young and feeble thing like me? Truly, Roman, what would your guards think if they saw you now?”

He did not reply. He knew the Dark Prince was testing him.

“Why have you wished to see me, Roman?” the creature asked him.

For a moment, Caesar hesitated. He truly did not need to get the blood-drinker involved, did he? “This was a mistake,” he whispered.

“There was no mistake in your letter. You have asked for my help. And I honestly hope you have not made me come all this way for nothing. I do not like it when my time is wasted.”

There was something feral in the Prince’s voice, something that made theGeneral’s heart stop for a few seconds.

“Do you think we could discuss this problem alone?” he finally said.

A faint nod, and a dismissive gesture that made the shadow figures dissipate. Deathly silence surrounded them now, and the shadow of Iupiter’s statue dominated the room.

“Tell me your worries, Roman,” the Dark Prince prompted him. “I have offered you my advice before; you know you can trust me.”

He thought he could. That was why he had sent that message to Antioch in the first place.

“It is more than advice this time, Tetiyus. I need your help with something.”

“I know,” the blood-drinker replied in a calm voice. “You were desperate enough to ask for my involvement, so this must be really important to you.”

“I need you to kill a man,” he confessed.

The dark eyes narrowed. “Oh. And you are aware that there is a price for my kind’s services, I suppose.”

“Anything,” he promised. “But this is not going to be easy.”

Tetiyus’ voice was still calm. “Tell me his name. Then I shall tell you what it will cost you.”

“The Persian General Atarx.”

The Dark Prince eyed him suspiciously. “So you are truly on your way to conquering Persia I have heard about this.”

“Can your people do it?” Caesar asked, hoping for a positive answer.

“It is, indeed, a hard target.” Tetiyus thought about it a few moments. “But I have always liked a challenge. Very well; he will be dead in less than two weeks.”

“And your price?” the Roman enquired.

More silence. “A life for a life,” he finally said. “Agreed?”

Caesar clasped the stone-cold hand the Prince had extended to him. “Agreed.” What was a life, compared to victory over the Persians?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~ To Be Continued ~

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~