Act Two Chapter Thirteen - The Killing Moon

Michael barely had time enough to pick his jaw up off the floor when Solomon entered. “Ah, you’re back.” He said casually.

“He’s slow on the uptake, Saul. If I’d meant him harm, he’d be dead.” Complained Max.

“He’s not himself lately.” Answered Solomon. “Torpor, guilt, and his sire now Mathias’ latest love pet.”

Max’s face was unmoved. “That explains much.” He said flatly.

“Excuse me?” interjected Michael, as if to remind the two of them that he was in fact standing right there.

“The blood, boy. You are bound in very subtle mystical ways to those who came before you and to those who come after you. Her torments, you are experiencing them, albeit in a much milder fashion.” Max sighed. “So, it’s that time again.”

To that, even Solomon looked puzzled. Max read his expression. “Mathias, for all his holiest-of-holies attitude, still hungers for baser desires. He usually fends it off for a decade or two, but when some choice morsel comes along, mortal or otherwise…” Max let the thought trail off.

“You know Mathias?” asked Michael.

“Know him!” exclaimed Max. “Hah! Boy, you really know nothing.”

Michael frowned, growing aggravated. Max’s tone reminded him of his first weeks and months as kindred, always being talked down to as ignorant and naïve. “I know that he claims to be the thirteenth apostle of Jesus. I know that he has the power to read thoughts, and I know that he killed my childe and imprisoned my sire.”

“And you know that he’s a hell of a lot more powerful than you are.” Added Solomon.

“Than both of you. Hence why you are here, pretty little Deborah is his thrall, and lovely little Rebecca is ash now.” Michael was about to ask how Max knew Rebecca’s name, but Max cut him off. “Mathias isn’t the only one with that particular power, boy.”

“Who are you?” said Michael, cutting to the chase.

“I am Maxmillian von Frederich, childe of Mathias, and once Prince of Williamsburg, Newport, and Hampton.”

“Once?”

“Yes.” Max let the word linger in the air. “It is time you understood what you are a part of, young one. I believe Solomon told you a few things. Let me fill in the rest. Roughly four hundred years ago, three ancient vampires settled these shores. One came alone. One came with a small retinue of followers. The third came with an army. The reason why the first came alone is unknown. It is the whimsy of his nature. The second sought to make this new world into his liking, and his followers and allies would allow him to do that. The third was likewise a creature of vision, and much less subtlety. It was not long before the vision of these latter clashed. In the frontier of these new colonies, the battles could be waged outside the prying eyes of others.”

“Who are the three?”

“Can you not guess at least the first two? You have met them both.”

“Ernie is the loner.”

“And the second?”

“Mathias, and you were one of his retinue.”

“Indeed I was, along with the Saracen who stands with him still today. The third you have not yet encountered, although you may someday. His name, or at least the name he has taken most recently, is Monroe. Thomas Monroe.”

“Mathias’ northern opponent.” said Michael, filling in the blanks.

“Once and future Prince of Philadelphia.”

“Once and future?”

“It is said he sleeps in torpor for much of the last fifty years.”

“And he came with an army?”

“Indeed he did. Monroe had enthralled a British general and when that general was assigned the garrison here in the American colonies, Monroe came along. He ruled the north. Mathias ruled the south. Oh, not directly. This is the 17^th century we’re talking about. Communication and rapid transportation did not exist. They ruled through proxies, through childer and thralls. I was given the Virginia colony to mold and reform in accord with my master’s vision. So Williamsburg became my home.”

Michael grew nervous at Max’s language and his reference to Mathias as “master.” Max seemed to enjoy his discomfort, smiling his ugly toothy grin again. “As is always the case, eventually the years caught up with Mathias and went into torpor to reverse their effects. And as he slept, his bond over me weakened and I began to wonder why I could not carve my own path.”

“And Ernie? Where does he fit into all of this?”

“Wherever he wanted to. He flitted about the colonies in those days, embracing childer and generally causing trouble wherever he went. Monroe or one of his proxies would try to kill Ernie, and he would simply move on. Then Mathias would tire of him, and Ernie would move on. He seeded our cities with his Venture spawn wherever he went. Some allied with Mathias, others with Monroe and still more went their own way. Eventually, his wanderings took him back to Europe and as you’ve seen they’ve brought him back here again.”

“He’s here in the Tidewater.” Added Solomon.

“I know.” Said Max wearily. Max paused for a bit, then continued. “As I said, Monroe too felt the sleep of the ages and like my master, his childer and allies began to carve their own paths. So it is now on the East Coast of the United States in the late 20^th century. The remnants of these ancients’ forces, still seeking to bring about their masters’ visions, all mingled in with those who broke free of their slavery and with those who have come into these areas in the centuries since, like yourselves.”

“Mathias’ vision is a religious one. He seeks his own version of the kingdom of God here on early, twisted as only a vampire’s vision of religion could be.”

“Would it surprise you to learn that Monroe is not so different? Both of these elders are a part of the Lancea Sanctum. Both seek the same thing, but both were and are too stubborn and suspicious to ever ally with one another.”

“So Monroe is in Philadelphia.”

“Aye. An ally rules in his stead while he slumbers. Mathias, as you know, has chosen Roanoke as his domain.”

“Why so far away from the action?”

“There could be many reasons. One is the simple fact that our society essentially takes two forms. One is the hierarchy of Prince and subjects, but the other is the recluse, the hermit. Mathias wandered to Roanoke, a small city, to be the sole master of his domain. He and the Djinn alone.”

“Obviously that did not last.” Commented Michael.

“Obviously.” Repeated Max. “Deborah, Solomon, others, not the least of which was Ernie came to disturb Mathias’ solitude and the city became what you know it as.”

“But why seek such solitude?”

“The long sleep of the ages does terrible things to a vampire. Solomon just mentioned that you yourself just emerged from a brief torpor. Imagine one that lasts 100 years or more. Imagine not only the madness and confusion of the dreams of torpid sleep, but that all your previous mortal allies and resources are now dead. Imagine also that your kindred allies have abandoned you, sought their own course. This is what Mathias experienced when he awoke from sleep back in 1904 or whenever it was. Roanoke was a fresh start; a time to heal from his confusion, a time to regain his bearings without threat of enemies and rivals. So to Roanoke he went. And now, nearly 90 years later, it is from Roanoke that his influence is spreading…”

“Is that why you are a former Prince?” inquired Michael.

Max laughed. “He learns fast. No wonder you and yours chose him, Saul.” He turned back to Michael. “Yes, I too was forced to surrender to the sleep. And when I awoke, not only had a new city sprung up on the south shores of the Tidewater, but it was ruled by a proxy Prince, an ally of Mathias, named Lazarus. And Lazarus had so graciously taken it upon himself to annex my territory. And so, here we are.”

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

“More or less. Your departure from Roanoke was more of a strategic withdrawal than a retreat. The battle there is the battle here. The names are different, but the sides are the same.” Max closed a single eye and glared hard at Michael. “So, pup, the question for me is, are you really as smart as I think you are? Pretty little Debbie thought you were worth something. Solomon thinks you’re worth something. Hell, Ernie thinks you are worth something, and that’s scary as hell to me. I guess we’ll see. Dawn comes soon and I must depart. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

With that, Max stepped backwards and vanished into thin air.

“He’s good.” Interjected Solomon before Michael could comment.

“In what way?” returned Michael. “He knows a lot. He can vanish right in front of us. He can read thoughts like Mathias. But can we trust him?”

“No.” said Solomon flatly. “But he’s no love for Mathias and his allies. Nor for the Lancea Sanctum. Enemy of my enemy….and all that.”

“Then why bring him here?”

“He would have shown up on his own anyway.” Said Solomon. “Especially after your stunt at the bank the other night. Nothing, and I mean nothing, happens in Tidewater without Max knowing about it. Everyone in this city, from the high to the low, looks to him when they want questions answered. He’s forgotten more than you and I will ever know.”

“Speaking of that,” said Michael, changing the subject. “what he said about me feeling what Deborah is going through, is that true?”

“I’m no expert, Michael.” Said Solomon. “But yeah, it’s hard to explain or pin down. You just know, you feel things. Sire to childe and childe to sire. If you focus on it, it slips away from you, but it’s there. I’ve heard that some vampires can discipline themselves to pin it down and know at any moment what their sire or childer are doing and feeling, but for most it remains subtle and elusive. I wouldn’t be surprised if Deb’s despair is part of what you are feeling right now.”

“It goes both ways. Deb can feel me as I can feel her?”

“So I’ve heard. I’ve really only had one experience with it myself. One night, some decades ago, I remember waking up and just knowing that my sire had died. It was probably another five years before I actually heard word that in fact he had. But I knew. Don’t ask me how. I can’t put it into words.”

Michael stood silently for a moment. He then looked Solomon square in the eye. “Rebecca is still alive.”

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