mistake, just as you are his. However, in my case I created him with full knowledge of what I was doing. Or so I thought." Pangloss frowned and his features were once more those of a handsome middle-aged man. "It can be lonely for beings such as you and I. I'm certain you've discovered this for yourself by now. Alliances with humans are, by their very nature, destined to be brief.
"Speaking of which, I congratulate you on claiming Palmer as your renfield. He's much better spoken than that piece of trash you picked up in London. Tell me, does he still imagine himself the captain of his own will?"
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"That's none of your damn business!"
Pangloss held up a hand in supplication. "You're quite right, my dear! That was rude of me! Now, where was I? When I was younger-younger than I am now-I longed for companionship. At the time, I fancied myself quite ancient-I was seven or eight hundred years old, which means it must have been either the eleventh or twelfth century. I was the same age as Morgan is now, if that means anything.
"I had grown bored and wished to have an equal as a companion. Since I was forced to recruit from serfs and peasants, with the occasional yeoman thrown in, the basic templates were far from the first quality. Most of my broodlings were unsuited for any intellectual pursuits beyond hunting down their next meal. Then I met Morgan.
"At that point, I was working for the Church as a gelder. The choirmasters sent their most promising sopranos to me for alteration into castrati. I was renowned for having a low mortality rate, at least by the standards of the day. It was a good cover, allowing me access to the Byzantine jealousies and infighting created when human sexuality is subverted. I fed well at the Vatican's expense for the better part of twenty years. But Morgan's arrival changed all that.
"He was only twelve when I first saw him, but I knew I had found what I had been searching for. He was the fifth son of a nobleman and had been forced into joining the Church. The original intention was for him to become a priest, but his excellent singing voice had drawn the attention of the choirmaster. Instead of castrating the boy, I took him with me when I abandoned my identity.
"It was the closest I had come to experiencing genuine passion since my resurrection.
"Morgan accepted me for what I was. His intellect was astounding, and he proved himself an apt pupil. We traveled Europe in the guise of uncle and nephew for several years. He longed to be transfigured, but I withheld my benediction until I was certain he was seasoned enough to survive the change intact. When he was thirty, I remade him in my image.
"My faith in his innate superiority was justified. Within ten years of his resurrection, Morgan had evolved beyond the crude revenant stage. I was proud of him! For two centuries he was my constant companion. I was his broodmaster, but I never abused my status. I allowed him far more liberty than I've granted any of my by-blows, before or since. In the end it cost me dearly.
"Morgan turned against me. I'd underestimated the strength of his will. And his guile. He came close to killing me-just as you did." Pangloss opened his robe and pointed at a long, ragged scar in the middle of his chest. Although she knew the wound had to be at least ten years old, it still looked fresh. "I nearly died from that silver blade of yours. It still hurts, even now."
"If you're expecting me to feel guilty, forget it."
"I know better than to expect pity from you, or from any of our ilk."
"So why are you telling me this?"
Pangloss's smile was bitter. "When you love someone as much as I loved Morgan, and find that emotion betrayed... You see, my dear, I hate him as much as you do.
And for far better reasons. It is in my interest that Morgan's plan be foiled."
"Plan?"
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"Speaking of which, I congratulate you on claiming Palmer as your renfield. He's much better spoken than that piece of trash you picked up in London. Tell me, does he still imagine himself the captain of his own will?"
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com )
"That's none of your damn business!"
Pangloss held up a hand in supplication. "You're quite right, my dear! That was rude of me! Now, where was I? When I was younger-younger than I am now-I longed for companionship. At the time, I fancied myself quite ancient-I was seven or eight hundred years old, which means it must have been either the eleventh or twelfth century. I was the same age as Morgan is now, if that means anything.
"I had grown bored and wished to have an equal as a companion. Since I was forced to recruit from serfs and peasants, with the occasional yeoman thrown in, the basic templates were far from the first quality. Most of my broodlings were unsuited for any intellectual pursuits beyond hunting down their next meal. Then I met Morgan.
"At that point, I was working for the Church as a gelder. The choirmasters sent their most promising sopranos to me for alteration into castrati. I was renowned for having a low mortality rate, at least by the standards of the day. It was a good cover, allowing me access to the Byzantine jealousies and infighting created when human sexuality is subverted. I fed well at the Vatican's expense for the better part of twenty years. But Morgan's arrival changed all that.
"He was only twelve when I first saw him, but I knew I had found what I had been searching for. He was the fifth son of a nobleman and had been forced into joining the Church. The original intention was for him to become a priest, but his excellent singing voice had drawn the attention of the choirmaster. Instead of castrating the boy, I took him with me when I abandoned my identity.
"It was the closest I had come to experiencing genuine passion since my resurrection.
"Morgan accepted me for what I was. His intellect was astounding, and he proved himself an apt pupil. We traveled Europe in the guise of uncle and nephew for several years. He longed to be transfigured, but I withheld my benediction until I was certain he was seasoned enough to survive the change intact. When he was thirty, I remade him in my image.
"My faith in his innate superiority was justified. Within ten years of his resurrection, Morgan had evolved beyond the crude revenant stage. I was proud of him! For two centuries he was my constant companion. I was his broodmaster, but I never abused my status. I allowed him far more liberty than I've granted any of my by-blows, before or since. In the end it cost me dearly.
"Morgan turned against me. I'd underestimated the strength of his will. And his guile. He came close to killing me-just as you did." Pangloss opened his robe and pointed at a long, ragged scar in the middle of his chest. Although she knew the wound had to be at least ten years old, it still looked fresh. "I nearly died from that silver blade of yours. It still hurts, even now."
"If you're expecting me to feel guilty, forget it."
"I know better than to expect pity from you, or from any of our ilk."
"So why are you telling me this?"
Pangloss's smile was bitter. "When you love someone as much as I loved Morgan, and find that emotion betrayed... You see, my dear, I hate him as much as you do.
And for far better reasons. It is in my interest that Morgan's plan be foiled."
"Plan?"
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