IV-The Feast

IV-The Feast

So there they sat. Amin and Bashir cast a distrustful eye at their uncle. Camille happily sucked down wine. And Uncle Achmed with a grand smile on his face recounted a battle just a few nights ago. He said,
"So there we were, it was just me a few janissaries and a couple Bedouin against an entire tribe. They had refused to pay taxes and rather than lose face in front of that stuck up Bey Hussein we rushed out that night to meet them. My Janissaries fired a few volleys  into their ranks but the cavalry quickly recovered.  As soon as things went from bad to worse my Bedouin fled leaving just me and a few janissaries."
Camille looked up, "However did you survive?"
Uncle Achmed smiled wanting someone to egg his story on. "Soon we were surrounded. I dismounted my horse and drew a sword. We slashed and cut out way through one side of the circle, but then they span around and hit us again. Now all that was left was myself and the three remaining janissaries, one of which who had taken a substantial wound on the shoulder. I smiled at my men and cried Allahu Akbar. And ran toward the charging cavalry. The men were puzzled but returned the cry and ran after me."
Camille, "I had forgotten the excitement of battle. Do finish good Pasha"
Achmed continued, "By the end of the fight we had slew 1200 of them and lost merely fourteen. God truly is great." And at this last line Achmed winked at the boys.
Camille, now excited interjected, "How could you have survived!"
Achmed laughed, "Enough of this for now, let's get some food my friends!"
As the old man snapped his fingers the slaves came out carrying a sumptuous feast. There was wine from the best regions in Spain and France. Plenty of Goat and Mutton. And of course there was magnificent bread. Baked by artisans. The four guests ate so heartily they felt as if their stomachs were about to explode. Could there be no end to the delights of Achmed's palace?
As the dinner was finished the slaves cleared the table. In return they brought out Hookah, Coffee, and Baklava.  Amin tried to politely decline desert but his uncle insisted.  And as the hookah was lit three beautiful black belly dancers were brought forward.
Camille stared entranced by their grace and beauty, these women were incredible. Every move followed a hypnotic rhythm and it seemed their bodies were created only to memorize.  Camille felt entranced by the women.
Amin laughed and looked over at Achmed, "Well my uncle, what shall we do from here?"
Bashir interjected, "What can we do for our master?"
Achmed spoke in an eerie voice, "You say you are bound to him, but what do you know of oaths?"
Amin tried to speak, but could not find the words.
Achmed continued, "The man you were bound to fell in Belarus fighting monsters alongside you. This man is merely an reanimated body. His soul is unable to inhabit it forever. Souls cannot live in a body past death. However they don't slip out all at once. No, things like this are never that easy. You see my nephews our soul will remain as long as it can, but it strains itself trying to accept the inhumanity growing in its master. In an average person's life the soul will slip out little by little. A murder, a theft, a lie, and so on. Finally when you reach old age you will have as much soul left as you have goodness in your heart."
Bashir stared into his uncle's eyes,  "Camille still has plenty of good left in him my uncle."
Achmed continued, "Camille will live as long as his body can survive, until someone is strong enough to kill him. Every day he will have to make little sacrifices to survive.  And each little sacrifice will bring him closer to losing his soul forever. Losing his humanity and his self in eternity."
Amin interjected, "Was that why the creature attacked us when we entered the temple?"
Achmed smiled "Yuri Indoslav was a 400 year old vampire. He had lived in that section of the world since long before any of us drew breath. However being an original Yuri was forced to watch everyone he cared about be killed by the Crusaders ravaging his country, or by his own hands as he tried desperately to control the bloodlust. It is no doubt his soul found little goodness left to hold onto, and when a body is finally emptied of all hope, of all light, well there is little left we can do."
Bashir, "You knew him?"
Achmed laughed, "No, I knew of him. In 1710, while I was only a mere boy of eighteen I was called up to war by the Sultan. The Russians had attacked our people. We made common cause with the bitterest foe of Russia, Charles XII of Sweden. The war was costly and we fought each other to a standstill. However it was in Wallachia that I met a man who spoke of an old man in Transylvania named Tepes .
Amin, "Well that doesn't explain everything. Now does it?"
Achmed smiled, "It is getting late. We should all retire. Camille my boy!"
Camille looked up instantly, "Yes?"
The old man replied,  "You will not cause any trouble tonight right? My nephews are still a little nervous, but I know you are a good fellow right?"
Camille nodded.
Achmed smiled "Then be a good gentleman and go to bed."
Compelled once more Camille went to bed without a second word. Amin wanted to speak, but knew words would be wasted on his elusive uncle. All he saw was Bashir mouthing the word tomorrow and they went off to there rooms.