Act XIII The Last Supper (Part 17)
Seventeen
Upon seeing this, Nuk burst into tears, collapsing to his knees and convulsing. "My lord... I've been keeping something from you, it's not about this..." he cried, drool dripping onto the carpet in anguish. "Go to the monastery... Lord Yakov is dealing with Lord Shumel's affairs and can't get away... I truly know nothing about the assassins..."
"I understand." Yubi ignored him, coldly taking her coat and covering herself with it. "I'll go now."
His blood slave, who had been severely punished, lay on the ground, watching his retreating figure as he fell into a purgatory of wailing.
Yubi realized that what he had heard in the courtyard earlier wasn't the cry of a starling. A line of magnificent palanquins tore through the flames of the riot in the night. The curfew had been lifted; no soldiers stood guard on the city walls. Countless horrifying insults flooded Yubi's ears, but he felt no grief or anger, only pity. People were simply as blind as he was, unable to distinguish truth from falsehood.
"When should we burn her?" The crowd roared, "If not her, then the city lord should be burned!"
"Please, burn me!" he heard Schumacher pleading again. "It's all my fault, it has nothing to do with the city lord or my sister!"
"Quiet!" Yakov shouted hoarsely to maintain order. "The vote isn't over yet!"
Yubi summoned the blood slaves to lower the carriage. He slowly lifted the veil that obscured all light and stepped into reality. The city lord's appearance caused Yakov to roar in despair. "What are you doing here? What use are you?" The knight pushed through the crowd and smoke, grabbed his wrist, and shouted at him in shame and anger, "Take these people back! Don't watch the show!"
"What happened, Yakov?" Yubi stared at him.
"This has nothing to do with you, ignore these people! You don't need to listen, nothing will happen to you, go back now!"
"You want to burn Schumacher's sister alive?"
“It wasn’t me.” Yakov’s eyes were bloodshot. “...It was everyone who wanted to burn her.”
Yubi took his hand and stepped out of the sedan chair. The vampire looked around—he was being stared at and looked up at by all the dark, unseen gazes. All the confusion and hesitation, the resolve and doubt, the hatred and the reverence were concentrated on him alone. The crowd held torches and lit lamps. Latins, Greeks, Armenians, Saracens; Christians, rabble, Jews—they all stood in the monastery square, as if this small town were the center of the world, and all the unspeakable and indecisive matters had to be decided here.
He didn't remember Schumeer's younger sister's name. The woman was bound to the stake, like a sacrifice about to be martyred. At her feet lay piles of firewood, gathered piece by piece by everyone. Hatred, having found an outlet, had accumulated into a mountain, a single spark enough to ignite a raging fire. Schumeer knelt prostrate at the stake, his forehead pressed to the ground, unable to look at him; Diophantus and Cicero stood nearby, waiting to see what would happen; Eudosia, Pascal, and Margot had dismounted from their carriage and were looking around in horror.
Behind him, Ambikia found a high vantage point with a wide view, remaining completely untouched by any leaves; Yubi thought that Inart must also be hiding somewhere, awaiting his decision.
"Why did you burn her?" Yubi shouted to everyone. "Tell me your reason!"
“She’s a Jew, and she’s colluding with the Jews outside the city to lend money at exorbitant interest rates!” the crowd replied.
“Jews lending money isn’t illegal!” Schumeer retorted. “Why should she be burned at the stake?”
“Because it’s always people who can’t pay their taxes who go to her.” Cicero put his hands behind his back and straightened his back. “She says she can help people pay their taxes with loans.”
“Loans are loans, and taxes are taxes!” Schumeer raised his head, his eyes swollen and grotesque. “Neither of them is illegal, so why should they be punished by burning at the stake when combined?”
“Because she has a brother who is the tax collector in the city and makes the tax laws.” Diophantus sneered in the firelight. “The people in the city can’t afford to pay their taxes and have to borrow money… Who knows if it’s a conspiracy?”
The matter was clear. Yubi waved his hand, stopping the pointless argument. He only turned to look at Yakov—the knight's iron gauntlets clenched so tightly they creaked, hatred and contempt burning like hellfire, almost incinerating him. "They're just trying to frame you," the Blood Slave warned him, barely containing his rage. "If you don't burn her, Schumer can't continue as tax collector, and you can't continue as lord."
“But I don’t think anyone did anything wrong,” Yubi said.
“What does this have to do with who’s right or wrong?” Yakov gripped his robe tightly. “You must think about protecting your own interests, and abandon them when necessary! If you dare to follow your heart, if you dare to only care about so-called right and wrong, the mob will smash your house, and the army will burn your city to the ground! The power we’ve worked so hard to earn will vanish into thin air!”
“I know, Yakov, I know.” Yubi patted his iron glove lightly, a sorrowful expression on his face. “...But if Schumacher’s sister is burned to death, we will lose Schumacher as well.”
Yakov's eyes sank into the dim night, becoming cloudy.
“If you hadn’t known, he would still be the same as before.” The knight’s mark seemed to be activating, and he was curling up slightly. “He is your blood slave and cannot disobey your commands.”
"All for me?" Yubi asked.
“It’s all for you,” Yakov said.
Yubi asked no more questions. A searing pain, as if Yakov's hellfire raged within him, burned him intensely.
"Hold him down." The city lord raised his head and commanded his troops. "No matter what he says, do not let him go."
As the soldiers, their eyes vacant and clutching their chests, stepped forward, Yakov indeed let out a bloodcurdling scream. Yubi couldn't tell if his grief stemmed from inner conflict or the punishment of the mark, nor did he want to hear any more of their dubious explanations. He abandoned the blood slave, dragging his long black robe, and ascended the platform with its wooden stakes, to the foot of the sacrifice. He felt as if he were walking a predetermined path. Fate has no freedom, Yubi thought; fate is always predetermined.
“This person deserves to be punished, and I agree to the burning at the stake.” The vampire’s child raised his hands and pleaded with the heavens, “But if she lives, it means she has atoned for her sins and received God’s forgiveness. If so, we have no right to judge her.”
The crowd was silent for a moment, then erupted in a frenzied cheer. "Burn her!"
Diophantus lit a torch and placed it in Eubius's hand. As the flames approached the pyre, the sacrifice screamed in terror. "Lord Eubius, please, don't do this..." Schumer knelt at his feet, his ten fingers gripping his shoes tightly. "You promised me you would help me..."
"I'll help you." Yubi's eyes sparkled brightly. "Don't worry."
The Jew's throat suddenly went silent. He placed his withered hand on his chest, groping back and forth, as if searching for a lost shackle.
Immediately afterwards, Yubi threw the torch into the woodpile.
Everyone stared at the towering, fiery mountain, listening to the horrific screams emanating from within. The fire burned for a long time, the sounds incessant, as if the gates of hell had opened, allowing those present to glimpse the scene within. At first, people cheered incessantly, but when their throats grew hoarse, they stopped and discussed in hushed tones. After a while, the fire fell silent, like the most solemn funeral.
First, a young woman collapsed, clutching her chest. "Stop burning her!" she cried out in pain. "She doesn't deserve this!"
“This is truly divine punishment.” One monk turned away, unable to bear it. “God is stabbing my conscience.”
“I have always believed that unbelievers should go to Hellfire.” A turbaned man knelt on the sand. “God, forgive me.”
Like the most virulent contagion, pain gradually spread across everyone's face. They collapsed in droves in the night, subjected to the most severe interrogation, questioning their own faith. Yubi's shadow stretched long and far in the firelight. He walked to Diophantus and Cicero, "The devout have all been called by the gods." The flames burned clearly in his red eyes, "And you?"
Upon hearing this, Cicero burst into tears and collapsed to the ground; Diophantus, struggling to support his legs, was also forced to hunch over.
Yubi surveyed his enemy's subjugated posture with satisfaction. He turned and helped Schumacher to his feet. "I'm firing you. You can no longer be a tax collector." The vampire counted the white hairs that had suddenly appeared on his forehead. "From this day forward, you are free."
Schumeer opened his mouth and cried like the most vulnerable baby.
The vampire descended the steps. His face was smudged with soot, his entire body black, and he strode like a messenger of the devil or the gods, stopping before Yakov. The blood slave lay motionless on the ground, his veins throbbing and struggling. If there were a cruelest punishment in the world, one that could inflict endless pain on every inch of flesh, this would be it, Yubi thought. He leaned down and found Yakov staring intently. That icy blue gaze fixed on him, impossible to melt with fire.
“Don’t worry, I know how to remove your mark.” Yubi whispered in his ear, “I understand, I’ve learned it.”
Yakov didn't answer, whether out of arrogance or pain, it was hard to tell. Yubi could only hear the grinding of his teeth.
“But I refuse to understand you,” the vampire uttered the most vicious curse. “This is what you taught me, and it’s the retribution you deserve.”
Tbc.
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