The Story of the Vampire, L (Completed | Featured )

Part 5 - Punish Him, Punish Him

We first discovered Escha was missing around 4 o'clock. After meeting with Leechtin, I had lay down for awhile, and Vasvius had softly and comprehensively apprised me of my duties for the evening. Largely, I discovered that some of the smaller responsibilities they had already been giving me for weeks, including delegating to and watching over the younger children, and so when the master asked for Escha, it was entirely my fault that we'd lost track of him. I learned that after I had returned home with him, Vivacio had taken the other children to town in order to run errands with our cart and donkey; carts and draft animals not being allowed through the gate until afternoon. They'd gone to pick up food prepared in advance as well as fresh fruit, wine, and butter, and made it back in good time. Except for Escha. 

It did not occur to me that it was possible Vivacio had left him behind on purpose, but weeks later, it would become obvious that he had done just that. Weeks later, it would become obvious that Vivacio had for some time been deranged enough to be jealous of a seven year old, enough to want to make him disappear.

But without that knowledge, in the moment, I had no one to blame but myself, and knew exactly where Escha had gone. I thought that definitely he had gone to see the statue of Hercules he'd been rhapsodizing about earlier in the day, not only because the statue was his beloved but because it was a safe place. Trembling, my eyes cast down, I insisted that I would go find him myself, standing outside of the master's cubiculum door, but as you already know, Leechtin went himself, leaving the banquet to us.

Hearing that Leechtin would not be numbered among the banqueters, Vivacio's pale, ghostly face went livid, but he packed the emotions down tightly before speaking. "And it's you I have to watch this evening," he hissed at me, as he inspected the dishes. "If you get in my way, I'll make you more sorry than you've ever been in your life."

I tucked my chin down, trying not to look defiant. It is important to remember that Vivacio was not evil. I told myself that repeatedly, waiting to be told what to do. Sometimes he could be so overwrought that it almost made me want to laugh, because he seemed like the villain in a comedy play. But I was in no mood to laugh, and he certainly never hesitated to act on his words. Just the previous day, he had whipped Nonus viciously for dropping a plate and cracking a tile. Nonus had begged for the long slashes on his back to be rubbed with honey rather than salt, but as the weather warmed it wasn't practical to use honey, and he had fainted from the salt and from the heat. I stood my ground, but I did not sass my praeceptor.

"You will run point in the dining room, and I charge you to make certain the little ones do as told."

"I have not been given permission to hit them," I told him.

Vivacio put down the plate he had been scrutinizing and leveled me with a suspicious look. "I have seen you strike them."

"Only while I was inebriated, and I won't drink anymore," I said.

"Do you need to be a drunk to do what you are told?" he asked. 

I noticed that his fingernails were long and pointed. I thought of him hitting me and scratching me. I thought of infection. A blow in and of itself is not terribly dangerous. A dirty bite or scratch could be the end of any of us. The idea that he had filed his fingernails in such a way as to break the skin on purpose alarmed me. "No, praeceptor."

"To ignore your duty is to stain your master's honor," he told me. "To stain him is to threaten the viability of our house."

"I know," I said. What he was telling me was that if I saw a child growing tired, to threaten him with punishment. But he was also telling me that if I saw a child being dragged away to be abused, physically or sexually, to do nothing. And these things were common at banquets, especially if they ran late into the night, and it had happened to me, and as I was being asked to do, no one had stopped it. I cannot defend this practice, and I won't. I cannot defend our master's not stopping it, or not allowing it, and I won't. We were expected to be pliable, and compliant. Expecting to be abused, and not protesting it, was our duty, and yet I am still so angry about it, and for being accessory to its continued practice. In the light of day, I liked to imagine that I might be a part of fantasy, but as evening began to draw in, the reality of what might happen, especially as I saw how many courses there were to serve, darkened my spirit. I counted seven courses, and did not see that any extra staff had been brought in. It would only be us brothers, and absent Vasvius, who had often lightened the mood at such affairs and made jokes of us, that banqueters seldom would look at us as anything but children. I feared the situation was unsustainable.