Act V: The Prince's Expedition (Part 7)

seven

Schumacher changed into a new pair of pants and caught up with them again.

The night sky over the steppe was clear and expansive, with the constellations of Orion and Taurus clearly visible. Schumer thought that he was probably the only one here who knew how to identify constellations and had the leisure to observe them. This thought seemed to alleviate some of the embarrassment of his recent loss of control over his bladder. He followed behind Yubi and Yakov, listening to their conversation with the Khan, offering only a few words.

"How many days will it take for the carrier pigeon to arrive?" Yubi asked anxiously. "Constantinople is very far away!"

“It’s a long way for both people and horses.” Batur’s face beamed like a pile of flower petals. “But a carrier pigeon can make a round trip in a day.”

"So I'll receive a reply from my sister tomorrow?" Yubi asked incredulously.

"Don't rush, we can only send the letter tomorrow morning. But she loves you, so if we send someone to reply immediately, it will definitely arrive by tomorrow night. At the latest, it will be the night after tomorrow."

"Can't it be sent tonight?"

“The pigeons are still asleep.” Batur patted Yubi’s shoulder affectionately. “Don’t worry. I can take good care of you here.”

Yubi was a little disappointed, but still very excited, practically skipping along. "Yakov, did you hear that?" he jumped around Yakov, "We finally don't have to live like this anymore!"

“Is that so?” Yakov said, his expression unreadable.

This answer dampened Yubi's spirits. He sullenly quickened his pace and returned to Batur's side. "...Will your bear die?" he asked cautiously.

“Grizzly bears are tough animals,” Batul replied. “They are valuable and useful, and I won’t let them die.”

This answer seemed to confuse Yubi, and he stopped asking new questions.

Schumer looked at everyone before him with pity. It was as if several terrible, transparent barriers separated them, preventing their words from reaching each other's ears. But then he thought, he shouldn't worry about it. Soon, before a small tent, he found little Batur and his large Slavic slave standing there, playing and waiting for them—the father's appearance startled the boy, instantly extinguishing his smile, as if childishness was something unspeakable and sordid—little Batur immediately adopted a mature demeanor, leading his slave to bow before them.

"Guests, this tent is for you." His Latin seemed much more fluent and natural than during the day. "Sweet dreams."

Batur nodded in satisfaction. He patted Yubi on the back and turned to leave.

This wasn't much better than camping—blankets were laid on the ground, and several more layers were laid in the sleeping area, but cold drafts still seeped in from underneath. The fire pit in the center of the tent made one feel half hot and half cold. Yubi wondered when he could sleep comfortably every day like he used to at home.

"What's Constantinople like?" he asked Schumacher, leaning on the mat. "I mean, what kind of house does my sister live in?"

“Oh, she must live in a magnificent palace.” Schumeer was so sleepy he could barely keep his eyes open, and the relaxation after escaping a near-death experience left him utterly exhausted. “...Anyway, it can’t be that cold.”

Yubi wanted to talk to him more, but there were occasional noises coming from the doorway—people were gathered around the low tent flap, listening to their conversation. In such a small tent, every word was clearly audible—although Yubi figured these people probably didn't understand Latin. But he didn't want to take the risk. In that brief moment of hesitation, Schumacher began to snore.

Yubi turned to the other side. "Yakov," he whispered, "are you awake?"

The Slav lay curled up with his back to him, like a wounded giant. The warmest spot closest to the fire pit had been given to Schumeer, who chose to sleep on the outermost edge, his face pressed against the felt wall, so as not to face anyone. Yubi reached his cold hand to Schumeer's neck, touching the old and new bite marks and scars there.

"Are you cold?" he asked cautiously. "Shall we switch seats?"

“No need,” Yakov replied in a voice only he could hear.

"Are you sad?" Yubi asked again. "I...I want to know, can I..." The sound of swallowing echoed in his ears. "The sheep's blood tastes awful. I even feel like sheep horns are going to pop out of my head. It's as bitter as the devil's bile..."

Yakov buried himself in the felt wall, breathing deeply and slowly, almost like a sigh. "There are people listening outside," he said. "Get another blanket."

"Why?"

“So they can’t hear us.” Yakov finally rolled over and lay flat on his back. “I have something to ask you.”

They folded three blankets together and covered their heads and necks. Yubi didn't need to breathe, but he felt the small space become damp and warm—it was the accumulated breath of Yakov. "I don't think anyone can hear me," Yubi whispered in his ear, and strangely noticed the blood rushing there. "What do you want to ask?"

“I need to ask you about your sister.” Yakov shrank back to avoid him. “How much do you know about her?”

This wasn't what Yubi thought he was going to ask. The vampire thought for a moment in surprise. "...I only saw her when I was a child. Later she married into the Byzantine Empire, just like Batur said, married into the Ka... family, and never returned to Transylvania." He adjusted his position, lying on top of Yakov so that his cries would be quieter. "You know, in such a strict court, it's not like you can just come back whenever you want."

"And what about twenty years ago?" Yakov asked uncomfortably. "What was she like then?"

“How should I know?” Yubi retorted angrily. “I wasn’t even born then!”

Yakov was silent for a moment. "What's the difference between your sister and you, and your mother?" he asked. "Can she see the sun? Does she know any magic or spells you don't... whatever it's called, does she?"

Yubi suddenly fell silent, lying quietly on the robe covering his chest. Yakov shrugged. "Don't tell me you're asleep," he urged. "Tell me everything you know."

“You have things you don’t want to say, and I have things I don’t want to say.” Yubi suddenly became angry. “Why are you asking these questions?”

“This is a big problem for me, kid. It’s a big problem for all three of us right now.” Yakov grabbed his robe collar. “You complain that I don’t tell you anything, but aren’t you doing the same?”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Yubi hissed in his ear like a howling cat.

Yakov's chest heaved with anger. Yubi, fed up with his attitude, tried to lift the blanket and leave, but Yakov held him tightly, his hand pressing against his back. "Tell me your secret, and I'll tell you mine," Yakov said in a low voice. "I'll tell you the story Batur told you again. Deal?"

"You should speak first."

“No, you speak first,” Yakov insisted. “Otherwise, this is hopeless.”

Yubi stared at his face in the darkness. He wished he could read the meaning of every pulsating vein. But he had neither the experience nor the ability. "If you change your mind," he bared his fangs angrily, "I'll bite your neck off."

He saw that Yakov was also staring at his face in the darkness. Whether from lack of oxygen or tension, large amounts of blood were surging up his veins, covering his face like a fine, bright red net.

“Alright,” Yakov replied seriously, “Go ahead.”

“First of all, you know…” Yubi’s voice was barely audible, like a buzzing mosquito. “My mother was amazing… She could do a lot of things, and all the blood slaves obeyed her. Some blood slaves even called those things miracles—maybe because they had a preconceived notion that only God could perform miracles; or perhaps they simply called anyone who could perform miracles God.”

“That’s not surprising,” Yakov said. “And then?”

"Then do you think that God's children should inherit some of God's power or share in God's authority?" Yubi's voice grew softer and softer until it was barely audible. "Like Zeus, like Odin, like Gaia. Even human children can inherit some titles and property."

“That’s not necessarily true,” Yakov said. “There are always some unlucky ones, like Pascal.”

Yubi paused for a moment, then buried his face in Yakov's shoulder. "Then I'm the most unlucky one," he muttered resentfully and dejectedly. "I'm that penniless prince. I have nothing, I can't do anything, unlike my sister and brother. That's why Mother dotes on me and won't let me leave her side."

"Why do you think that?" Yakov frowned. "Perhaps it's just because you're too young. You already know a lot."

“At least Mother certainly didn’t expect this,” Yubi said. “She did a lot… She was heartbroken about it. You understand? I’m not stupid, I can see it! She thought I could never grow any better, that I couldn’t go on living. She didn’t let me know many things…” His nails gripped the blanket, making it cover him more tightly. “When I was little, my brother Inart came to visit me. He wanted to take me into the forest, and he turned into a black mist… I didn’t know how he did it, so I asked him. But he said it was like walking, there was nothing to ask or learn. I tried all day, I really didn’t understand… I even threw Mother’s ring into the lake, but it still didn’t work.”

“I asked Inard if it was because I was too young. I asked him if he could do these things when he was my age, but he wouldn’t answer me, he just kept laughing.”

“Then my mother chased him away. She was furious. I never saw Inard again after that.” Yubi’s voice was muffled. “From then on, I knew I could never ‘perform miracles’ like them. Until I met you.”

That's it?

"What else do you want to hear?" Yubi angrily threw off the blanket. "That's all I know!"

Yakov took a couple of breaths of fresh air and then pulled the blanket back over their heads. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said. “I asked if your sister could do some other ‘miracle.’ Like a real miracle, not some kind of circus thing like turning into a bat or some black mist.”

"Then how can it not be a miracle?" Yubi's eyes widened. "What do you consider a true miracle?"

"For example, restoring sight to the blind, curing lepers," Yakov said. "For example, bringing the dead back to life."

Yubi seemed to be thinking, or perhaps questioning. He lay there motionless. "I don't know," he said slowly, "but it's not impossible. You see, Mother can turn people into blood slaves, and I can remove the ring and no longer be hurt..."

Yakov pulled the blanket up again, catching his breath, and shifted his arms to find a more comfortable position. A thread seemed to untangle his tangled thoughts. He stared at the dome of the yurt, at the stars twinkling within its ring. It was as if a small fragment of the truth had been revealed, yet he still couldn't grasp the whole picture or know all the mysteries of the starry sky. He wanted to follow that thread and unravel it, but he was afraid of making the knot even tighter, the tangled mess even more chaotic.

“It’s your turn.” Yubi suddenly tapped his shoulder.

"What?"

"You can't cheat!" Yubi cried out. "I'll bite your neck off!"

Yakov then remembered that this time the honesty was supposed to be mutual. He saw Yubi pull the blanket over his head again and reached out to stop him. "It's unnecessary." He pushed Yubi off his chest and told him to lie down to the side. "I'm not afraid that Batur will hear this; he knows everything."

“I used to be an asshole.”

“You’re a jerk now too.” Yubi glanced at him sideways.

“I used to be a disgusting bastard, just as bad as Batur, maybe even worse,” Yakov said in a low voice. “Let me tell you what we used to do.”

"We kill. Children, the old, women. The old are the most numerous—because they don't live long enough to work enough to support themselves. Children are separated from their parents and sold into slavery to Egyptians and Saracens. Boys are likely to be castrated, and if they die, they die; if they survive, they become slave soldiers. Girls and most women suffer the same fate: if they are still attractive, they are imprisoned and raped, or sold to others for imprisonment and rape; if they are not attractive enough, they are sent to do hard labor. Women are weaker than men, and they die faster in mines, fields, and furnaces. When one group dies out, we move to another place and repeat the same thing. We take all the grain and all the livestock. Craftsmen are kidnapped, scholars are exiled. If we encounter a minor nobleman of any standing, we demand a ransom. This is what I did every day when I was your age, no, younger than you."

“Batur seems to have a better reason for doing this, because he is a Tatar and his ancestors have made their living this way for generations; but I, because of his ‘promotion,’ have to draw my sword against my own people every day. He has turned me into a monster more evil than the devil. Do you understand?”

Yakov glanced at Yubi's face out of the corner of his eye. In the firelight, his young master remained silent, and Yakov couldn't tell if shock or disgust flickered across his shadowed face. But he continued speaking. Anger had ignited within him.

“If your sister had never come, I might have remained a monster like this for the rest of my life. Until that day, when Batur ordered me to retrieve bear cubs from the bear den, just to please your sister—utterly absurd. I retrieved the cubs, but was severely injured.” Yakov felt his lips and tongue burning hot from the fire. “He thought I was useless, threw me back to the docks like trash to do hard labor, and forced me to marry his female slave so that my descendants would continue to serve him!”

“I can’t stand this, this is my bottom line. I suddenly realized how unforgivable my actions were.”

"So I ran away."

A silence lingered in the yurt, the fire in the hearth burning weakly. Yakov thought, he rarely spoke so much at once. Was Yubi listening? Why was he silent?

“Do you think this is the same story that Batur told you?” he asked. “Don’t be fooled by him.”

Yubi remained silent. He slowly moved his body, quietly placing his head on the pillow and lying flat. "I understand," he said softly, but for some reason it sounded a little aggrieved, "...Let's go to sleep."

Yakov frowned as he watched his every move. "I thought you wanted my blood."

“I’m not that hungry yet.” Yubi put on the ring and closed his eyes. “Sheep’s blood can also satisfy hunger.”