EHYEH-ASHER-EHYEH (I AM THAT I AM): An Elena Duran/Corazon Negro
Vi Moreau (vmoreau@directvinternet.com)
Mon, 23 Sep 2002 09:38:38 -0400
Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh (I am that I am) 19/34
Julio Cesar divad72@prodigy.net.mx
Vi Moreau vmoreau@directvinternet.com
"Say again?"
"The Ancient Gathering destroyed most our forces in New York."
Yep. Torquemada had said what Cartiphilus thought he'd said, and the words
were no less shocking the second time for being less unexpected.
"Rasputin? Vlad?"
"Vlad escaped. Right now he is preparing another attack. Rasputin is divided
in two. Literally."
"Shit," Cartiphilus sat down in the chair across the table from Torquemada.
To say he didn't like this turn of events would be an understatement, but he
didn't want to show the extent of his disappointment to Torquemada, whom he
didn't trust in the least. Deceive your enemies-that he understood. But the
Headless Children should have been working toward a common goal, not
scheming for individual power. That's how it should be. Fuck them, he
thought. He knew it didn't work that way. But it should. The problem was,
they were no friends, only allies. Unholy allies of convenience. Too many
possibilities, and none of them as urgent as what he was doing at the
moment. "Have you ever met them? The Ancient Gathering?"
Torquemada shook his head.
"Me neither," Cartiphilus said in low tones. "And you know what? I don't
know that I want to."
"I quite agree."
"Shit," Cartiphilus said again. "They took care of Rasputin and Vlad, along
with their elite forces, regardless of Lilitu's powers. You're sure?"
"As sure as I can be." Torquemada sighed. It was his turn to sit across from
Cartiphilus. "Details are sketchy. We're not sure exactly how it happened,
but the sources are reliable. The Ancient Gathering doesn't brag about jobs
they don't really do-bad for business in the long run."
"Shit."
The name Rasputin and Vlad might not mean anything to mortal men, but the
two of them went back a long way in the Immortal's circles. Real badasses.
They were probably two of the most powerful members of the Headless
Children-or had been.
Cartiphilus pulled out a cigarette, struck a match and lit up. He couldn't
tell from watching Torquemada if the Inquisitor knew more than he was
letting on. Maybe, maybe not. Torquemada did not fluster easily. In facing
down a hostile mob of refugees and eventually winning their acquiescence, if
not their trust, he had kept his cool.
"I think we have reason to be afraid," said Cartiphilus blandly.
Torquemada's eyebrows rose, then he shrugged off the comment. "War is like
that."
"Yes it is." Cartiphilus laughed to himself. Torquemada wasn't about to tell
him if he was afraid. Screw him. On to more important matters-survival.
"Does Rasputin and Vlad going down have any effect on us?"
"It might. However, it can only help."
Cartiphilus nodded. "Hmm," he rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Yes. It might
help us. Can't hurt. Do you think the Ancient Gathering will push toward us
as hard?"
"Harder. They smell the blood in the water, and they know this is their
last, best chance."
"How long before they discover this place?"
Torquemada shrugged. "A couple of hours maybe."
Cartiphilus thought about that for a moment, compared it to his own
calculations, and finally nodded.
"After that," Torquemada continued. "I'd guess... another three hours to
reach us here. Is that enough time for what you need to do?" he asked,
although Cartiphilus knew the cleric wanted to ask, 'What are your plans and
how can they help 'me'?'
Cartiphilus rose from the table and moved distractedly toward a nearby table
with a crystal decanter. He removed the stopper and took in the peaty aroma
of strong single-blend whiskey, Scotch. Probably the favorite drink of one
of their many enemies, the MacLeods, the former Centurion considered. He
poured himself a glass, then raised it to his mouth, just enough to wet his
lips. Still holding the glass before his face and gently swishing the
liquid, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Five hours," he said, eyes still closed. "I need five hours from this
point. Can you guarantee me
that?"
Torquemada paused before speaking. He wasn't one for promises and
guarantees, but the plan he and Cartiphilus were attempting to see through
to its conclusion did require certain absolutes. Timing was important.
Torquemada was walking a thin line between holding back the Ancient
Gathering and leading the Headless Children. Cartiphilus had other
responsibilities that were as vital and was undoubtedly the best judge of
how much time he needed.
"You need five hours, you got five hours," Torquemada said.
Seemingly reassured, Cartiphilus returned to his seat. He took another small
sip of whiskey, then placed the glass on the table. "How about Livia and
Caligula-excuse me, Gaius? Are they proving easy to work with?"
"Easy enough. They don't try to interfere with the island's defenses,
really, since we included them in the original planning. I know about as
much about Mother as they do now. They have suggestions now and then. I
listen and nod and then do whatever I was going to do as it was planned in
the first place."
"So becoming a Headless Child hasn't gone to Caligula's head?" Cartiphilus
asked, going back to the sobriquet he knew the ex-Roman emperor hated.
"Oh, sure it has. But it doesn't bother me. He likes to walk around and look
like the God he thought he was. You know, mix with the troops once in a
while, and give them a pep talk. That kind of thing."
Cartiphilus leaned forward on the table. "So tell me. Just out of curiosity,
what scraps did you toss Rasputin to convince him to go toward New York with
Vlad? Because I know you had him lined up before he suggested himself at the
council."
"I merely impressed upon him the importance of unity of command in these
trying times," Torquemada said with a straight face.
"And..."
"And I assured him that he would have my full support when the time came for
a successor to Lilitu."
Cartiphilus nodded and sat back in his seat again. Betting against the
longevity of Rasputin seemed reasonable enough, and the monk would be easier
to kill than Lilitu.
"You know," Torquemada said, "the title could be yours for the taking."
"Hmm. Like I needed that pain in my ass. And if I ever did want to be like
Mother-and I don't-I don't plan of having myself nominated by you.
Jesus-fucking-Christ!" he exclaimed. Then he drained his whiskey and slammed
the glass down on the table loudly. "Anything else?"
"Just one thing. I think Lilitu is going to keep us both near her on the
island, but she is going to send Caligula and Livia against the Dreamer.
I've heard about some grumbling among the rank and file."
Cartiphilus stood. He stretched, popped his knuckles. "Let them grumble."
"Fair enough."
"Fair enough," Cartiphilus echoed, and headed for the door. He stopped just
before leaving and turned back to face Torquemada. "Oh yes, with our
perimeter shrinking, there's going to be more of a chance that some fucking
Ancient Gathering asshole might get farther into the island and come gunning
for somebody. I should assign a team to you for more security."
"Don't bother," Torquemada said. "They're better spent on patrol. Besides,
I'm not planning on going anywhere."
Cartiphilus frowned. "Whatever you say." He shut the door behind him.
========
"All of them, Livia?" Lilitu asked.
"I don't... I mean, it's a questing..." Livia broke off, but recovered
herself quickly. "It seems that way," she added hastily, forestalling the
next order.
Lilitu looked at her, and then dropped the finger that was raised to
instruct Livia on this very point. She smiled. "Better. Tell me, how would
you say they died?"
"Something went wrong, Mother. The protective circle of darkness had been
effaced in places. We're lucky the Ancient Gathering didn't attack us
instead-"
"They can't, but go on," Lilitu interjected.
Livia looked questioningly at Lilitu, but as no further information seemed
forthcoming, she continued her speculation. "The ritual went wrong.
Something... stepped through. Surely Vlad did something wrong. Rasputin
tried to assure his escape and was killed."
Lilitu shook her head slowly. "You're rushing ahead, my child. And perhaps
you don't appreciate the danger. We're dealing with death here-the Ancient
Gathering. Do you understand? When you hunt common Immortals, you can be
ravenous. If you are to have a contest with death, however, you must be
dispassionate. Against the Ancient Gathering you must be disciplined. You
must be patient. The Ancient Gathering-just like death-is so very ...
patient." Lilitu's eyes narrowed, as if receiving an inner vision Livia
could not. She sighed. A strange grim look crossed her face. "As long as the
Dreamer lives, I cannot control the Dream at will. He must die. Only then
will I face the Ancient Gathering... personally."
"Maybe when Vlad returns-"
"You really do not yet understand?" Lilitu's tone was menacing. "I
understand well enough. I have been slow in coming to that understanding and
it has cost me dearly. You have broken my trust. Maybe you should pay for
that."
"Mother, please!"
Lilitu shook her head. "There is a morbid humor in the air down here. A
fetid reek of melancholy, distrust, self-pity. I can feel its breath through
the broken teeth of these neglected crypts. You are quite right to warn
others away. But you are mistaken if you really think that I would want you
dead. You are my protector, my benefactress."
"You are my Goddess," Livia said. "And I am a foolish old woman. You are as
omnipotent and inevitable as death."
Lilitu recoiled as if struck. "I am death, my child. Never forget that." She
seemed about to retort angrily. Then she visibly calmed. "Relax, I have
another mission for you. You will have brought death into the Ancient
Gathering."
"Now you are frightening me. Please, Mother, let me leave this place at
once."
Lilitu ignored her pleas. "His blood will slip between my fingers. I need
the blood of the new Dreamer..."
Livia opened her mouth to speak, but Lilitu continued before she could
interrupt. "Take Gaius with you, and bring me the head of Corazon Negro."
Livia stared at Lilitu in open disbelief. The Roman seemed to be caught
midway between concern for herself and fleeing to get help.
"Who are you?" Lilitu asked her pointedly.
Livia was silent a long time. When at last she found the words, her voice
sounded soft and far off. "I am yours."
Without turning to see if Livia followed her, Lilitu led the way into the
deeper darkness inside the ancient cave.
========