Things move slowly in Jerusalem. Discussions drag on night after night after night. Jonathon and Sarah coast through the city, visiting a sundry assortment of well known religious shrines and sights.He is much taken by the ruins of Herod's Temple, known to Earth as 'The Weatern Wall.' Jonathon's people were of the hereditary priestly class. Think of the individuals who used to reign as 'prince bishops' in feudal holdings throughout the Hapsburg Empire and you'll get the idea,.They had seats in The Great Sanhedrin (the 'senate' of Jerusalem) and contributed towards the shaping of Western Religious Thought, as we know it. Indeed, some in the Fourth Commonwealth (as the land of Israel is sometimes known today) call for the re-establishment of that august assemblage, as precursor to a resurrected monarchy. But I digress. Another vampire walks the Holy City. His name is Jean-Michel, a French knight left over from those ill-fated medieval Trinitartian attempts to wrest control of the See of Abraham from the various Unitarian factions known in the area.
Sarah spotted him, as he strolled through a night market festooned with 'bee' lights in the Old City. Did he glow? No. Was he deathly pale? No. Was there somethinng strange and magical about his person? That woulld be difficult to say. Enchantment often rests in the eye of the beholder. But he had a certain mien, a physical gravity, a warrior's grace and she saw that. She squeezed Jonathon's hand and said - Look......He followed her gaze and smiled......A vampire, that one is - he whispered.....One thousand years of darkness tend to fine tune the senses. Jonathon was never wrong. He sent out a thought pulse and the Frenchman (or more correctly, the Burgundian) caught it, nodding in their direction. Jonathon gestured toward a nearby coffee bar. He led Sarah in. They found seats 'round a small table in the shadows and after a suitable measure of heartbeats, the Gallic life-eater joined them.
No one spoke. Communication took place via the subtle pre-linguistic telepathy vampires often use. There was no danger. There was no threat. So they sat there studying each other. Jonathon wore blue jeans, a tee shirt and thick, leather sandals. Sarah wore a short, sleeveless, ivory linen dress. Jean-Michel sported well cut khaki slacks, a gauzy white cotton shirt and fine, soft, kidskin driving shoes. Jonathon admired the stylish footwear. We all know how much he likes his own collection of hand tooled black, leather bootkins.
The knight spoke first. He said - Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Jean-Michel, Chevalier du Roc-Montiel. My father was a count, but I am only a seconnd son, hence my place in the Crusades. New lands, conquests, glittering booty. I'm sure you understand.........Jonathon did understand, only too well. For it was a band of blood thirsty Crusaders who attempted to burn him, all those many long years ago. So he stopped and collected his thoughts before making a reply.............
Sarah spotted him, as he strolled through a night market festooned with 'bee' lights in the Old City. Did he glow? No. Was he deathly pale? No. Was there somethinng strange and magical about his person? That woulld be difficult to say. Enchantment often rests in the eye of the beholder. But he had a certain mien, a physical gravity, a warrior's grace and she saw that. She squeezed Jonathon's hand and said - Look......He followed her gaze and smiled......A vampire, that one is - he whispered.....One thousand years of darkness tend to fine tune the senses. Jonathon was never wrong. He sent out a thought pulse and the Frenchman (or more correctly, the Burgundian) caught it, nodding in their direction. Jonathon gestured toward a nearby coffee bar. He led Sarah in. They found seats 'round a small table in the shadows and after a suitable measure of heartbeats, the Gallic life-eater joined them.
No one spoke. Communication took place via the subtle pre-linguistic telepathy vampires often use. There was no danger. There was no threat. So they sat there studying each other. Jonathon wore blue jeans, a tee shirt and thick, leather sandals. Sarah wore a short, sleeveless, ivory linen dress. Jean-Michel sported well cut khaki slacks, a gauzy white cotton shirt and fine, soft, kidskin driving shoes. Jonathon admired the stylish footwear. We all know how much he likes his own collection of hand tooled black, leather bootkins.
The knight spoke first. He said - Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Jean-Michel, Chevalier du Roc-Montiel. My father was a count, but I am only a seconnd son, hence my place in the Crusades. New lands, conquests, glittering booty. I'm sure you understand.........Jonathon did understand, only too well. For it was a band of blood thirsty Crusaders who attempted to burn him, all those many long years ago. So he stopped and collected his thoughts before making a reply.............