Chapter 3

Several Weeks Later

Jasper slowly eased his body onto its side.  Mimicking sleep, he intently listened to the conversation between a young woman named, Cora, and the old nurse he’d heard called both Bess and Smithfield.  He’d assumed that her true name was Elizabeth Smithfield with Bess being the nick name for Elizabeth, but names were funny things.  He’d noticed the increasing pattern of nick names or abbreviated names being given to children at birth by parents wanting to be different.  Therefore, he could have been incorrect on that assumption. 

“He has been here for weeks.  It has been determined that he will not provide service in the household, but he has not been turned,” Cora complained.  “Others have come and gone, yet there he lays. I do not understand what is so special about him.  He wastes valuable bed space.”

“I agree that he has been occupying a bed for far too long, but he does seem to be improving.  Master Rowan believes he should be up and around in another day or so,” Bess explained.  “Besides, the other beds are empty right now.  So, it is not like he keeps it from someone else.”

“Perhaps he is intended for the army. Is he fit to join?” Cora asked with a slow shake of her head.  “He should have been turned and healed by now.  He was in a severe condition when he arrived. Far more so than the others. Was he overly damaged? Is there something wrong with him? Why is he not turned? Why is Rowan pampering him so?  This makes no sense.”

Bess kept her eyes focused on Jasper’s back as she slowly shook her head.  “That remains a mystery.  Master Rowan seems unconcerned, so I suggest we be the same.”

Curious about being the topic of their conversation, Jasper could no longer feign sleep.  His damaged vocal cords felt weak from lack of use.  It took considerable effort, but he managed to croak out the question, “What army?”

A loud gasp escaped Cora’s full lips as her wide eyes looked in his direction. 

Hurrying to his side, Bess placed her cool hand on his forehead.

“The fever has subsided,” she said with a satisfied smile.  Using her thumb and forefinger, she gently forced his eyelids far enough apart to expose his pale blue-grey eyes. Carefully studying them, she said, “You are still human, I see.”

“What else would I be?” he asked in a weak, gravelly voice as he briskly twisted his head to the side to free himself from her annoying touch.

“Dead, for one,” Cora said with a hint of arrogance as she approached his cot.  “The fact that you live is a miracle.  You are lucky that Rowan found you when he did, or you would not be.  You owe him your life.”

It was an effort to speak.  So much so that, although he was curious as to who this Rowan person was, he couldn’t muster the energy to ask.  Instead, he heaved a sigh and closed his eyes.  Sleep.  He just needed sleep.

Realizing that their short-lived conversation was all that she’d have with Rowan’s latest rescue project, Cora placed her hands on her hips and clucked with disgust.

“I wonder about Rowan’s wisdom with this one,” she complained.  “He is far less animated than any of the others. Grant it, there is less required of the body to become a vampire than to go into household service, but there are still requirements which I doubt he meets.  I simply cannot comprehend why he lets him live. It is not his way.”

“True,” Bess agreed. “Most of the others were in much better condition when they arrived. Yet, they did not survive in battle.” Scowling with concern, she heaved a sigh as she looked at Jasper’s slow breathing form and added, “Turning him will make him stronger than his human self, but will he be strong enough to battle supernatural beings? There seems to be some sort of deficiency to prevent him from turning by now.  Perhaps because he was so far gone, and the master is merely giving him small amounts of blood each day because of it. I simply have no idea but, starting out so weak, if he does get turned and joins the army, I question what chance does this poor lad have?”

“It seems almost cruel,” Cora admitted.  “For the first time since I met him, I am confused about Rowan’s motive and cause.  Is he really trying to help a poor soul? Or is he simply taking advantage of the opportunity to tamper with nature? Lately, more vampires have been turned to join our coven than have over the centuries since he brought me back with him.  Not only have there been more vampires joining us, but some were humans who I do not believe were on death’s door.  It has always been his policy to create a vampire from someone whose only other option is death.  That is what he keeps telling me whenever I asked to be turned.”

“Hush!” Bess snapped with outrage.  “You know very well the necessity for the growth in numbers.  I will hear none of that kind of talk! As for those who were turned but not dying, it was not the master’s doing and you know it.”

Suddenly feeling the impact of the shame of her words, Cora lowered her head.  Tears threatened to pool in her chocolate eyes as she quietly confessed, “I have no idea why I spoke as I did.  He does not deserve such criticism.  I am ashamed.”

Resting her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder, Bess gave a slight smile while she quietly said, “You are forgiven.  Just please be more considerate of your words in the future.”

A chagrinned Cora vigorously nodded.

“I promise,” she assured the older woman.  Then, with a small, frustrated stomp of her slender foot, she added, “I need to get control over my emotions.  I want to be turned so badly, yet he refuses. I must stand by and watch as he turns the others.  I cannot understand why he will not make me vampire.  He just keeps me alive with drops of his blood.  There have been times when I wished for a fatal condition so that he will give in and turn me.”

“He may be a vampire, but it is clear that he values human life,” Bess said with conviction.  “If he did not, we would all be dead by now.  I cannot speak for you, but I appreciate the long life he has blessed me with.  You need to show a bit more appreciation.”

“I appreciate it,” Cora defensively replied. “It is just that, even with his blood, we still slowly age.  You were a young woman when you entered his household centuries ago and I no longer possess the youthful look I had when he found me.  One day we will die.  It is the natural way of being human.  I want to become an immortal like him.  I want to be less vulnerable and be able to walk by his side for eternity.  Turning me does not automatically place me in his army.  At least, I do not think it does.  If it does, then, so be it.  It would be worth it to finally be vampire and know that I can be with him forever.”

Bess’ eyes grew wide with surprise.

“Are you listening to yourself?”  she asked with angst.  “You have been blessed with an unbelievably long mortal life, yet you wish to end it and become vampire.  Even if you were not forced to join the army, you would still have the misfortune of being like him.”

“Like him?” Cora replied with emotion. “I would give anything to be like him.”

Her annoyance with Cora was clear as the old woman grabbed a freshly laundered sheet from a pile nearby and vigorously shook out the wrinkles before haphazardly folding it while emphatically saying, “So, you would rather be forced to avoid the intense light of day and all of the delights that it offers while you live on the blood of frightened humans.  You have no issue with never again knowing the sensation of a warm breeze caressing your face as you bask in the sun’s brilliant rays while enjoying a good pastry or sweetmeat?”

The younger woman wrinkled her nose as she said, “You make it sound so awful.”

Bess set the sloppily folded sheet down onto a nearby table and picked up another to repeat the process while she continued with, “Have you taken the time to really observe the master?  I mean… to really see him?  If you had, you would know of his sadness and regrets.  Of course, he does not want to impose such a life on you.”

“He is sad?” Cora said with surprise.

Bess nodded. 

“Take the time to observe and stop being so selfish,” the old woman scolded. “Not only is he saddened by his state of being, he does not enjoy turning the humans that he brings home with him. Even though he gives them the choice of dying or becoming a vampire, he feels that they are not fully aware of what the life of a vampire entails when they make their decision.  We have conversed about it, so I know this to be true.”

“He confided in you?” Cora said with open envy.

“It is not a common occurrence,” Bess admitted. “I happened upon him during a time of weakness.  He had just finished turning Arthur.  He justified it by reminding himself that Arthur was on the path to death, but it still troubled him.”

“As I recall, Arthur did not seem to mind,” Cora mused.

Bess shrugged. “He also did not last long.”

“That was not because he was vampire,” Cora argued.  “That was because he was killed in war by those evil bastards.  It could have just as easily been any of them.”

“Yes.  That is precisely why the master regretted creating another vampire.  The more he creates, the more he loses to those fiendish creatures.  It seems a never-ending battle,” Bess said as she looked over at Jasper’s sleeping form.  “After such a long fight for his life, I pray this young man does not meet the same fate.”