The Last Supper (Act XIII) (Part 11)
eleven
As soon as they left Patriarch's Pool and hid behind the guarded archway of the Tower of David, Yakov immediately summoned Nuk. "Go to the pig market, find Eudosia, and tell her about it." He cautiously stared into the slave's young, innocent eyes. "You know what to do, don't you?"
“I know, sir,” Nuk said quickly and in rapid succession. “I won’t mention her family’s bankruptcy, her brother’s wedding, or anyone else will see it.”
"Okay, go quickly."
As soon as Yakov let go, Nuk darted out of Tower Square like an arrow and disappeared into the crowd in the blink of an eye.
Yubi glanced at his nervous expression and crossed his arms with displeasure. "Actually, it wouldn't be bad if the siblings could get back together," he said. "If Eudosias is willing, I should tell him. That way, Diophantus and I can still be friends."
"Don't do such a stupid thing!" Yakov warned him sternly, almost shouting. "You need to watch out for that kid. He must hate you to the core now, and he'll find a chance to make trouble for you sooner or later!"
"Why?" Yubi blinked stubbornly. "Isn't he married now, rich, and still a nobleman? I've always taken good care of Yudosia, so why does he hate me so much?"
"Why don't nobles marry into other noble families? What kind of noble is that bald guy?" Yakov sneered again. "He's capable of doing the same thing to his own sister, so he's capable of doing the same thing to himself. He's got guts."
Yubi lowered his head and pondered for a moment, unsure whether the remark was a praise or an insult, and too embarrassed to ask further. The two stepped through the stone archway and saw the courtyard of the Tower of David teeming with noble carriages and their families. The patterns of silk and the scent of spices reminded them of the most bustling square on the Via Messer. The Byzantines had never been as enthusiastic about pilgrimage as the Latins, and Yubi had rarely seen so much Greek clothing and jewelry in Jerusalem—yet most of it was worn by "foreigners," as if fleeing Latin nobles had dug up a section of Constantinople and rebuilt it in the Tower of David.
Yakov pulled him to a shady spot with a wide view and moved a lightweight wicker chair under him. "Are there any blood slaves here?" he asked, leaning close to the vampire's ear. "If you see anyone with a mark, you must tell me."
"Maybe my sister hasn't arrived yet," Yubi sighed, looking at the bustling crowd in front of her. "Don't worry!"
His gaze peeked out from under the umbrella, observing the warm veins of everyone, listening to their noisy heartbeats. Officials and slaves, knights and noblewomen—Yubi listlessly tried to distinguish them. Beneath the finery, flesh and blood were not so different in the living. Vampires could sometimes find signs of illness and aging, but these had little to do with a person's character, nor did they determine the taste of their blood. He thought that perhaps different vampires would have different opinions when tasting the same person's blood. Like Yakov's blood, if his sister or brother were to drink a sip, it would surely be unbearably bitter—Yubi suddenly had a whimsical thought: if that's the case, is true deliciousness always subjective, and is there no such thing as "unpalatable" blood or "turbid" souls?
The knight stood beside him, his face stern, gazing at the square, searching for any familiar details amidst the intricate array of formal attire and heavy headdresses. But whether it was the sheer number of people or the intense sun, his patience and vigilance eventually reached their limit, and he succumbed to drowsiness, swayed by the murky air.
Yubi glanced at him. "Why isn't Nuk back yet?" he asked casually. "Don't fall asleep."
"I'll send someone to look for him later," Yakov replied wearily, and then fell silent again.
His master couldn't bear to remind him again. The two of them did nothing, waiting expectantly until dusk. It seemed they would have to wait in Jerusalem for several days, Yubi thought, when a furry thing darted out from between the legs of the guard holding a spear—it was a snow-white, heterochromatic-eyed, long-haired cat, running with its claws outstretched, scratching the stone tiles with a creaking sound.
It leaped onto Yubi's lap, instantly waking Yakov. "Whose cat is this!" the knight gruffly grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck. "Get out of here!"
"It's just a cat!" Yubi scolded, snatching the poor little creature from his hands. "Why are you yelling at it!"
The words had barely left his lips when the vampire saw another striking white figure push aside the guards and force its way out from beneath the robes embroidered with golden crosses—a girl, Yubi thought. She had long, curly, snow-white hair, and her pale, translucent skin was thinner than paper, the color of the blood flowing beneath clearly visible, instantly reminding Yubi of his mother. But he had never seen his mother so small, fragile, and innocent. Yubi wondered, had his mother ever been a child—had he ever been a child like her?
The girl approached him timidly, raised her face, and revealed a pair of blood-red eyes: the color was strange, not clear like a gemstone, but rather glaring like a wound. "Sir, this is my cat." She awkwardly bowed, extended her hand adorned with the terrible ruby ring, and asked softly in Greek, "Can you give it back to me?"
Yubi stared blankly for a moment, then reached out to hand over the wriggling cat he was holding. Just as he was about to do so, Yakov drew his sword—
"Ansopea!" A familiar voice pushed through the crowd and rushed over.
The girl was immediately scooped up and carried away by a pair of large, dark hands, away from Yakov's dangerous blade. She burst into tears, burying her face in the man's chest. The cat in Yubi's arms also jumped off his sleeve, leaving a scar on his expensive thin coat.
"Good afternoon, Yubi, it's been a long time." Seleman smoothed the child's messy white hair, forcing a smile with a pounding heart. "It seems you've found your uncle first. Don't be afraid, that knight doesn't dislike you; he's rude to everyone."
Upon hearing this, Yubi gave Yakov a reproachful look. "I'm so sorry, Ansopaya," he said sincerely in a soft voice, "I'm your uncle... I'll have him apologize to you right now, okay?"
Ansopea cried incessantly, wiping her tears and snot all over Seleman's collar, and no amount of shaking and patting from his large hands could calm her down. This scene made Yubi feel terrible. He had absolutely no idea how to comfort a child, and even wondered if he wasn't a child himself—but thinking about it, he was supposed to turn 30 this year! Yubi felt a pang of guilt at this thought.
"Go and return Ansopia's cat to her!" the lord commanded his knight. "Apologize immediately!"
Yakov was finally pushed along like a heavy boulder. He caught the cat and handed it to Seilman. "Excuse me," the knight said absentmindedly and nonchalantly, "you should stay away from your uncle, you understand?"
Sure enough, Ansopea cried even harder. Seleman had to drop the cat and desperately try to make funny, clumsy faces at her, but it was no use. "Why are you doing this?" Yubi angrily kicked Yakov's iron shoes. "What does such a little kid know! Or are you still trying to cause trouble for Seleman?"
Yakov remained silent, showing no remorse whatsoever. Yubi had no choice but to pick up the cat again, holding its paws and bringing it close to his niece, trying to cheer her up. But the cat was extremely unruly, struggling incessantly, soon causing his robes to be covered in fluffy fibers. "Stop crying!" Yakov roared behind him again, threatening, "If you cry again, a witch who eats children will kidnap you!"
Three men stood in the noisy palace square, trying their best to attract attention, but Ansopea's cries only grew louder and more aggrieved. "Is it too hot here?" Yubi wearily handed the cat to a slave. "Let's find a shady room!"
“No need,” Seleman said with a forced smile, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Ambicya should be here soon.”
Children are always closest to their mothers, Yubi thought, and Ambikia would surely resolve this matter easily. He anxiously peered into the palace tower's doorway, searching for his sister's cold figure among the dwindling number of passersby. Darkness fell, and the arid desert oasis cooled. Finally, Yubi spotted his sister in the deep palace—like him, Ambikia was wrapped in layers of cloth, her head covered with a veil and headscarf, not a sliver of skin exposed, like a veiled statue. She was surrounded by slaves, parasols held over her head, as she entered the square. Night seemed to fall with her arrival.
"Sister!" Yubi reminded them, "Sister's here!"
The crying in Seymour's arms stopped abruptly, as if a fledgling had been strangled in its nest.
The cold vampire leaned closer and took Yubi's equally cold hand in hers. Yubi gently knelt down, allowing the vampire to give her a light kiss on the forehead through her veil.
"It seems Ansopia met with you first, and caused quite a bit of trouble." Anbichia removed her veil in the night, revealing alluring, small red lips. "Long time no see, my dear brother!"
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