Apollonius (The Oldest Living Vampire Saga) by Duncan Joseph

Author:Duncan, Joseph [Duncan, Joseph]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Cobra E-books
Published: 2013-09-15T04:00:00+00:00

Julia

Tragedy seemed to stalk Cornelius Varus. Wife dead. Two sons killed during an uprising in Judea. All he had left was his youngest child Julia. Despite himself, Apollonius couldn’t help feeling some sympathy for the Roman. Even worse, he found himself warming to the man. He was, as the magician had said, a jovial and fair-minded fellow. Witty. Intelligent. Honest. Why he had decided upon a political career, and how he had managed to get himself elected to public office, Apollonius could not imagine.

But his daughter, Julia, was infinitely more appealing.

She was beautiful, smart, refined and opinionated. Unlike most patrician women, she did not seem pretentious or spoiled by her advantages. Perhaps she might have been if the circumstances of her life had been different, if bad luck did not shadow her family’s every step. The deaths of her nearest and dearest, however, had given her an appreciation for what was truly important in life. “Which are, in my opinion, love, honor and justice,” the young woman said, reclining on the couch beside her father. She smiled, not the least bit self-conscious, and popped a grape into her mouth.

She had, Apollonius thought, the most finely shaped lips he had ever seen.

She was short and voluptuous, with curly light brown hair that she had pinned up with jeweled hairclips for the dinner party. When she glanced toward Apollonius, her eyes—pale blue like her father’s—twinkled as if some interior comment had secretly amused her. She wore a dress of the same pale blue color, the color of the sky in late October, cloudless and deep.

“It often seems that tragedy calls upon those least deserving of its visit,” his master said, and Apollonius nodded grimly. He thought of his mother, dying upon Domitianus’s cock. His mother, who was only ever kind to everyone around her.

“I sometimes think the gods are cruelly amused by our suffering,” Apollonius said. “As if our lives are theater to them, our torments their entertainment.”

“Like the games,” Julia said. “If I believed the gods were real, I would say this world is their coliseum, and we are mere beasts to be slaughtered for their amusement.”

“Julia!” her father cried. “You’ll offend our hosts!”

“I apologize if I’ve offended either of you,” she said, looking dutifully ashamed. “My father is overly indulgent of me. I’m afraid I’ve developed a tendency to speak my own mind.”

“Don’t apologize!” Apollonius said quickly, as the magician opened his mouth to speak. “I believe the same way!”

Encouraged by the lad, the senator’s daughter said, “I find it strange that people will believe in beings they cannot see or touch or sense in any way. That they devote their entire lives to them. Make sacrifice to them while their own children go hungry. And yet, where are these gods when we pray to them? When we plead, tears coursing down our cheeks, for their assistance? When has Jupiter ever answered your prayers? I know he has never answered mine. Not when my mother was dying. And not when my brothers were sent away to Judea.

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