Vampire by Kevin Ashman

Author:Kevin Ashman [Ashman, Kevin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silverback Books
Published: 2013-12-10T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Itjawi - 1245 BC

The Caverns of Sekhmet

Ramesses’ mind was racing. He was deep in the caverns of Sekhmet and had just been told that the immortality he craved was outside his reach. He wanted to fall on the frail form of Sekhmet and tear her apart for leading him down this false path, but knew the isolation from his bodyguards put him at risk.

‘You are quiet, Ramesses,’ said Sekhmet ‘yet I see murder in your eyes. Do not strain to conceal such burning emotion, for I read the soul as easy as you read the proclamations of your false prophets. Declare your will, Ramesses, I seek amusement.’

Ramesses stared at her with hate in his eyes and venom in his words.

‘For three seasons I have knelt before you, Sekhmet,’ he growled, ‘ever since the governor of Itjawi made representation to stop you and your sisters slicing through the population like a farmer’s scythe. Each time, you have received sacrifice from me and during my battles, I allowed you to feast on the dead of friend and foe alike. I have stopped the masses from tearing down this place with their bare hands, and all for what. To see you stand there and gloat in your revelation that it has been for nothing. You have belittled me, Sekhmet, played with me as a cat does a mouse.’ He retrieved his blade and held it at his side in a threatening manner. ‘Your soul may be immortal, Sekhmet, but your body is frail. What is to stop me from piercing your black heart with my blade right now and ending this earthly existence?’

Sekhmet laughed again.

‘Oh, Ramesses,’ she said, ‘do you not listen to anything I say? You can fall upon me right now if you so wish. If it makes you feel better, carry out your threat, for I have suffered worse in my life.’ Suddenly, she seemed to glide effortlessly over the floor and into the light of the burning bulrushes. She grabbed his wrist holding the knife and lifted the blade up until it pressed against her own chest. ‘Don’t you think I have thought of release, Ramesses, dreamed of it, begged for it, even sought it out by my own hand, but always the hunger pulls me back.’

Ramesses held back the urge to flee as he gazed closely into the hag’s eyes close up for the first time. The effect was mesmerizing, as the blackness seemed to be an empty void of nothing that threatened to drag his soul into their endless depths. The yellow skin over her skull was parchment thin and bore the wrinkled lines of age from unknown eons of time while the stink from the rotting flesh between her jagged teeth was nauseating.

‘Do it, Ramesses,’ she whispered, pushing against his blade, ‘kill a goddess. You are the all-conquering Ramesses, smiter of the Hittites and ruler of all lands. Thrust your blade, great king and be rid of the one being in this world who would call you servant.

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