- Jul 6, 2008
- 308
Originally posted by @The Pale Lady in separate threads, now combined and re-posted for everyone's enjoyment.
This is perhaps my favourite piece of fanfiction on Carpe Noctem. Enjoy! - DoN
Prologue: To Walk Through The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death.
IC -1204
Ushoran snarled, his lips curling back to reveal a set of sharp fangs. They glinted menacingly in the erratic torchlight.
“They could not help themselves! They killed a handful at best - worthless, meaningless mortals, nothing but cattle in the grand scale of things. Why should they suffer so?” He slammed a bejewelled fist onto the ornate table, the twelve goblets jumping.
“They have broken my laws!” Maatmeses heard herself say. “I did not create them at some idle whim. There is a very real reason for their establishment, Lord of Masks.” She looked into the vampire’s icy gaze, a contest of wills between two undying monsters. He gritted his teeth and stood with a whirl, his back to the table.
“I reiterate, their actions were innocuous. Their victims were nobodies. No one has so much as noticed their absence! The lives of street urchins, and blind beggars, they are expendable - and as numerous as grains of sand in our great desert!” he added pointedly.
“That is far from the point. Had my guards not overheard their conversation, their illegalities would have gone unnoticed. They would have slunk back to Lybaras and continued in their bloodshed unabated.” The High Judge licked her dry lips, the moisture soothing. “Who knows what could have happened then? Street urchins and beggars are numerous enough, yes, but what of city guard? Nobility?” She paused. “Grand Vizier, how sit the city’s coffers?” Harakhte’s gazed flicked skyward as his lips mouthed silent calculation.
“They are up sixty eight percent since my last books,” he answered eventually.
“And can we afford war?” said Maatmeses. Harakhte spluttered at the word.
“War? Who is speaking of war?”
“I speak of war, should Lord Ushoran’s offspring continue to feast in the kingdoms of the priest kings! They are aggravating an already sore wound. The Nehekharans grow suspicious of us and our practices. They hear whispers of the cult that thrives here, and still, his children,” she nodded toward Ushoran, “feed from Lybaras, and Mahrak!”
The Lord of Masks growled, a sound at odds with his otherwise refined appearance. He span around, a retaliation on his tongue, but another voice spoke out first.
“You will sit, Ushoran.”
He checked himself, chest rising and falling slowly. An element of composure returned to his eyes. Bowing, he sank back into his seat, like a whipped dog.
“Of course, my most glorious Queen.” The vampire lord coughed, hand before his mouth, the picture of etiquette.
Queen Neferata smiled from atop her throne, her gaze running luxuriously over each of the members of her court. It was a silken gaze that slipped into the soul, subtly penetrating the darkest veils of their minds. From beside her, King Vashanesh sat quietly, back straight, left hand resting atop that of his queen’s. When she spoke, her voice rang rich and certain.
“Maatmeses speaks the truth when she says the Nehekharans grow wary. They hear rumours, whispers of our dark lord and unseemly sacrifices carrying the length of the desert to reach their ears. My informants in their courts tell me this, and I hear the same story, whether from the court of Mahrak, of Lybaras, or of Khemri itself.” She paused, her tongue slipping out to lick the corner of her top lip. “They hear the name Nagash, and they grow afraid.” There was something sensuous about the way she said the Great Necromancer’s name, as though it brought her physical pleasure.
“You do not know that they would have returned, Maatmeses,” snapped the Lord of Masks, pointlessly reversing the direction of the conversation. “Lybaras is a great distance to travel, and the other kingdoms even further still. My children have everything they need to slake their thirst here, in our city. In this very temple alone, for Nagash’s sake!”
“And yet, something drew them there in the first place. Something lead them into foreign lands, against my explicit rules. For this digression, they need to be reprimanded. It is the law, Lord Ushoran. We cannot be seen to waver it for the nobility.”
“None are exempt in the eyes of the law,” added Captain Abhorash, from beside their dark queen. The table nodded their agreement, bar one. Ushoran’s temper raged unchecked
“Don’t be so ridiculous. We are exempt. Of course we are! We wrote the laws! We are above them, as we are above mortals.” Maatmeses struggled to contain herself in the face of such idiocy. Could he not see the potential consequences of what he was saying? The tension across the table was palpable. It tasted sour.
“Listen to yourself. Law requires all to obey it, else it fails, it unravels, and loses its integrity. You are not so mighty that you can do as you please without consequence, my lord.” A voice sounded from across the table, seductive and majestic. The High Judge felt ancient eyes settle on her.
“Am I not above the law, Maatmeses?” She licked her lips again, and smiled falsely. It was an unattractive expression on an unattractive woman. She looked both sly and awkward under the scrutiny.
“You are exempt all laws, my Queen Neferata. You are as a goddess, even to us. You come and go as you please about the city, no earthly law could seek to restrain you.” Neferata pursed her bronzed lips and nodded once, clearly pleased by what she heard. Ushoran grinned.
“That does not apply to you, however, and especially not your offspring!” snapped Maatmeses, quicker than she would have liked. She needed to trap the arrogant bastard, to turn his own words against him, before the meeting ran its course.
“And why not? Why should our glorious queen in death, Neferata herself, be free of the law and yet the rest of us assembled here be denied by it?” A couple of heads nodded in agreement, as though his words were causing them to reconsider. The High Judge knew Ushoran was slippery. His words could be sweet as honey, or like venom on his barbed tongue.
“Let his children feed where they please,” muttered W’soran, half to himself, half to the other masters. “They will be found out, and Nehekhara will march against us as one. It is not as though they have so much as a chance of victory against the likes of us.”
“You have seen this?” said Neferata curiously.
“We have seen it before, in Khemri, when our dark lord rose above the masses and sought to wrest control. It will be the same, only the outcome will be different.”
“Go on.”
“They can not hope to compete with the might of Nagash and Lahmia together! If Nehekhara united against us, he would come to our aid. He is our god! He will fight to protect his disciples, as much as to claim revenge over the men and women that prevented him from attaining the throne of Khemri. These facts are indisputable. His magics will wreak a devastation unseen in all the world yet!”
“We do not know for certain that he would directly interfere, even to save us.”
“Have faith in the Great Necromancer, he is both cunning and patient. No plot unfolds without his knowledge. Think of all he has achieved already…”
Maatmeses interjected, seeing the turn of the conversation. At the references to Nagash, an air of anticipation had settled over the assembled vampires, as though they were on the edge of their seats. The Great Necromancer had such an effect on their kind. She could not explain it, but she did not like the influence his name seemed to hold over its vampiric worshippers.
“We cannot simply throw our laws aside, and bank on the dark lord Nagash to save us when Lahmia is assaulted. Better to maintain an attitude of discretion, and avoid war altogether!” This was the fate of Lahmia they were talking about! Could they not see that? Had they become so self-absorbed that nothing was sanctified anymore, even their own city?
“We are all here of the same blood, all equal. If our Queen Neferata is fit to disregard the hand of the law, why should we curtail our behaviour?”
Maatmeses grabbed at the opportunity revealed by the vampire scholar, before anyone else could interject. It occurred to her, as she began to speak, that W’soran was antagonising the situation with his attitude. He is well aware that the queen was above them all, and had rights that they did not. Why was he siding with Ushoran’s views? Did he want war? The thought was unsettling.
“But we are not all equal! Our Queen,” she paused, adding influence to the title, “surpasses us all in rank, power and divinity. We are gods and goddesses amongst men, yes, but within our own number, Queen Neferata alone has the power necessary to disregard - even rewrite - the laws as she sees fit. You dispute this?”
“This is preposterous!” snapped Ushoran.
A hush settled over the vampires, as quiet as the lifeless deserts of the east. Then, from the head of the table:
“You dispute this, little brother?”
For a moment, Maatmeses thought he might. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it.
“I do not, my Queen.”
“Good. Then it is settled. The seven offending vampires will be punished for their crimes. Such wanton feeding is not to be encouraged beyond our city walls. What are they subject to, High Justice? I forget such things.”
“A year’s isolation in the Catacombs, my Queen,” spoke Maatmeses with a hint of pride. It did not go unnoticed on Ushoran, who grimaced and, leaping to his feet, strode out of the chamber. Shadow rippled across his bronzed torso as he quit their company. “I will see to it that a regiment from the city guard collect them and accompany them to the temple, for the administration of their sentence.” The High Justice could feel the knots in her muscles, her neck in particular aching. She had been tense, more so than usual, but she could not help it. The flaunting of her laws was unacceptable in the best of circumstances, but the laws broken in this instance… She was most passionate that they must not be ignored.
They existed for a reason!
“That is everything?” said Ahmose with detectable finality. He cracked the knuckles of his ham-fists. “The docks do not run themselves. I have six barques arriving in less than an hour that need officiating.”
“We are all busy,” muttered W’soran. “So busy, so much to arrange! Have you seen the Great Library recently? A wealth of information, fit for a god! But such a pain to categorise. Immortality such as ours in a necessity, merely to document the endless collection accumulated there.”
“That is all I wished concluded,” nodded Maatmeses, “though had Lord Ushoran not contested my arrests so virulently, I would still have called assembly, in light of these most disturbing turns of events.” The remaining masters turned her way. “I cannot stress how important it is that you limit your children to the city’s boundaries. Rumours have reached my ears that others too have been slipping through the city walls, for what purpose I can only begin to imagine. Do not allow your offspring to feed in foreign lands.”
“You have made your point, High Judge, most…incessantly. This meeting is adjourned.” Something about Queen Neferata’s languid tone smarted Maatmeses. Let them continue to frequent the city walls then, she thought with bitterness. She had the entirety of the city guard at her disposal. The secrets of their comings and goings would not remain clouded for long.
This is perhaps my favourite piece of fanfiction on Carpe Noctem. Enjoy! - DoN
The Children of Maat
Written by The Pale Lady
Book 1: A Law Unto Her Own.
Written by The Pale Lady
Book 1: A Law Unto Her Own.
Prologue: To Walk Through The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death.
IC -1204
Ushoran snarled, his lips curling back to reveal a set of sharp fangs. They glinted menacingly in the erratic torchlight.
“They could not help themselves! They killed a handful at best - worthless, meaningless mortals, nothing but cattle in the grand scale of things. Why should they suffer so?” He slammed a bejewelled fist onto the ornate table, the twelve goblets jumping.
“They have broken my laws!” Maatmeses heard herself say. “I did not create them at some idle whim. There is a very real reason for their establishment, Lord of Masks.” She looked into the vampire’s icy gaze, a contest of wills between two undying monsters. He gritted his teeth and stood with a whirl, his back to the table.
“I reiterate, their actions were innocuous. Their victims were nobodies. No one has so much as noticed their absence! The lives of street urchins, and blind beggars, they are expendable - and as numerous as grains of sand in our great desert!” he added pointedly.
“That is far from the point. Had my guards not overheard their conversation, their illegalities would have gone unnoticed. They would have slunk back to Lybaras and continued in their bloodshed unabated.” The High Judge licked her dry lips, the moisture soothing. “Who knows what could have happened then? Street urchins and beggars are numerous enough, yes, but what of city guard? Nobility?” She paused. “Grand Vizier, how sit the city’s coffers?” Harakhte’s gazed flicked skyward as his lips mouthed silent calculation.
“They are up sixty eight percent since my last books,” he answered eventually.
“And can we afford war?” said Maatmeses. Harakhte spluttered at the word.
“War? Who is speaking of war?”
“I speak of war, should Lord Ushoran’s offspring continue to feast in the kingdoms of the priest kings! They are aggravating an already sore wound. The Nehekharans grow suspicious of us and our practices. They hear whispers of the cult that thrives here, and still, his children,” she nodded toward Ushoran, “feed from Lybaras, and Mahrak!”
The Lord of Masks growled, a sound at odds with his otherwise refined appearance. He span around, a retaliation on his tongue, but another voice spoke out first.
“You will sit, Ushoran.”
He checked himself, chest rising and falling slowly. An element of composure returned to his eyes. Bowing, he sank back into his seat, like a whipped dog.
“Of course, my most glorious Queen.” The vampire lord coughed, hand before his mouth, the picture of etiquette.
Queen Neferata smiled from atop her throne, her gaze running luxuriously over each of the members of her court. It was a silken gaze that slipped into the soul, subtly penetrating the darkest veils of their minds. From beside her, King Vashanesh sat quietly, back straight, left hand resting atop that of his queen’s. When she spoke, her voice rang rich and certain.
“Maatmeses speaks the truth when she says the Nehekharans grow wary. They hear rumours, whispers of our dark lord and unseemly sacrifices carrying the length of the desert to reach their ears. My informants in their courts tell me this, and I hear the same story, whether from the court of Mahrak, of Lybaras, or of Khemri itself.” She paused, her tongue slipping out to lick the corner of her top lip. “They hear the name Nagash, and they grow afraid.” There was something sensuous about the way she said the Great Necromancer’s name, as though it brought her physical pleasure.
“You do not know that they would have returned, Maatmeses,” snapped the Lord of Masks, pointlessly reversing the direction of the conversation. “Lybaras is a great distance to travel, and the other kingdoms even further still. My children have everything they need to slake their thirst here, in our city. In this very temple alone, for Nagash’s sake!”
“And yet, something drew them there in the first place. Something lead them into foreign lands, against my explicit rules. For this digression, they need to be reprimanded. It is the law, Lord Ushoran. We cannot be seen to waver it for the nobility.”
“None are exempt in the eyes of the law,” added Captain Abhorash, from beside their dark queen. The table nodded their agreement, bar one. Ushoran’s temper raged unchecked
“Don’t be so ridiculous. We are exempt. Of course we are! We wrote the laws! We are above them, as we are above mortals.” Maatmeses struggled to contain herself in the face of such idiocy. Could he not see the potential consequences of what he was saying? The tension across the table was palpable. It tasted sour.
“Listen to yourself. Law requires all to obey it, else it fails, it unravels, and loses its integrity. You are not so mighty that you can do as you please without consequence, my lord.” A voice sounded from across the table, seductive and majestic. The High Judge felt ancient eyes settle on her.
“Am I not above the law, Maatmeses?” She licked her lips again, and smiled falsely. It was an unattractive expression on an unattractive woman. She looked both sly and awkward under the scrutiny.
“You are exempt all laws, my Queen Neferata. You are as a goddess, even to us. You come and go as you please about the city, no earthly law could seek to restrain you.” Neferata pursed her bronzed lips and nodded once, clearly pleased by what she heard. Ushoran grinned.
“That does not apply to you, however, and especially not your offspring!” snapped Maatmeses, quicker than she would have liked. She needed to trap the arrogant bastard, to turn his own words against him, before the meeting ran its course.
“And why not? Why should our glorious queen in death, Neferata herself, be free of the law and yet the rest of us assembled here be denied by it?” A couple of heads nodded in agreement, as though his words were causing them to reconsider. The High Judge knew Ushoran was slippery. His words could be sweet as honey, or like venom on his barbed tongue.
“Let his children feed where they please,” muttered W’soran, half to himself, half to the other masters. “They will be found out, and Nehekhara will march against us as one. It is not as though they have so much as a chance of victory against the likes of us.”
“You have seen this?” said Neferata curiously.
“We have seen it before, in Khemri, when our dark lord rose above the masses and sought to wrest control. It will be the same, only the outcome will be different.”
“Go on.”
“They can not hope to compete with the might of Nagash and Lahmia together! If Nehekhara united against us, he would come to our aid. He is our god! He will fight to protect his disciples, as much as to claim revenge over the men and women that prevented him from attaining the throne of Khemri. These facts are indisputable. His magics will wreak a devastation unseen in all the world yet!”
“We do not know for certain that he would directly interfere, even to save us.”
“Have faith in the Great Necromancer, he is both cunning and patient. No plot unfolds without his knowledge. Think of all he has achieved already…”
Maatmeses interjected, seeing the turn of the conversation. At the references to Nagash, an air of anticipation had settled over the assembled vampires, as though they were on the edge of their seats. The Great Necromancer had such an effect on their kind. She could not explain it, but she did not like the influence his name seemed to hold over its vampiric worshippers.
“We cannot simply throw our laws aside, and bank on the dark lord Nagash to save us when Lahmia is assaulted. Better to maintain an attitude of discretion, and avoid war altogether!” This was the fate of Lahmia they were talking about! Could they not see that? Had they become so self-absorbed that nothing was sanctified anymore, even their own city?
“We are all here of the same blood, all equal. If our Queen Neferata is fit to disregard the hand of the law, why should we curtail our behaviour?”
Maatmeses grabbed at the opportunity revealed by the vampire scholar, before anyone else could interject. It occurred to her, as she began to speak, that W’soran was antagonising the situation with his attitude. He is well aware that the queen was above them all, and had rights that they did not. Why was he siding with Ushoran’s views? Did he want war? The thought was unsettling.
“But we are not all equal! Our Queen,” she paused, adding influence to the title, “surpasses us all in rank, power and divinity. We are gods and goddesses amongst men, yes, but within our own number, Queen Neferata alone has the power necessary to disregard - even rewrite - the laws as she sees fit. You dispute this?”
“This is preposterous!” snapped Ushoran.
A hush settled over the vampires, as quiet as the lifeless deserts of the east. Then, from the head of the table:
“You dispute this, little brother?”
For a moment, Maatmeses thought he might. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it.
“I do not, my Queen.”
“Good. Then it is settled. The seven offending vampires will be punished for their crimes. Such wanton feeding is not to be encouraged beyond our city walls. What are they subject to, High Justice? I forget such things.”
“A year’s isolation in the Catacombs, my Queen,” spoke Maatmeses with a hint of pride. It did not go unnoticed on Ushoran, who grimaced and, leaping to his feet, strode out of the chamber. Shadow rippled across his bronzed torso as he quit their company. “I will see to it that a regiment from the city guard collect them and accompany them to the temple, for the administration of their sentence.” The High Justice could feel the knots in her muscles, her neck in particular aching. She had been tense, more so than usual, but she could not help it. The flaunting of her laws was unacceptable in the best of circumstances, but the laws broken in this instance… She was most passionate that they must not be ignored.
They existed for a reason!
“That is everything?” said Ahmose with detectable finality. He cracked the knuckles of his ham-fists. “The docks do not run themselves. I have six barques arriving in less than an hour that need officiating.”
“We are all busy,” muttered W’soran. “So busy, so much to arrange! Have you seen the Great Library recently? A wealth of information, fit for a god! But such a pain to categorise. Immortality such as ours in a necessity, merely to document the endless collection accumulated there.”
“That is all I wished concluded,” nodded Maatmeses, “though had Lord Ushoran not contested my arrests so virulently, I would still have called assembly, in light of these most disturbing turns of events.” The remaining masters turned her way. “I cannot stress how important it is that you limit your children to the city’s boundaries. Rumours have reached my ears that others too have been slipping through the city walls, for what purpose I can only begin to imagine. Do not allow your offspring to feed in foreign lands.”
“You have made your point, High Judge, most…incessantly. This meeting is adjourned.” Something about Queen Neferata’s languid tone smarted Maatmeses. Let them continue to frequent the city walls then, she thought with bitterness. She had the entirety of the city guard at her disposal. The secrets of their comings and goings would not remain clouded for long.