The Blood Painted Cage

I paced back and forth in the intricately designed bedroom with a fire roaring in the fireplace, creating a warm glow in the almost empty feeling space. This room was the room of the Sinclair Head whenever they came to the Elders and it was only out of politeness that I accepted it. I would’ve preferred something smaller and far less flashy.

Viorel was silent as he read in one of the chairs with Livia beside him. Dana and Sonia were off in the large house, mingling with the other maids and helping with the chores. As all my maids originated from this house it was no surprise I felt a strange contentment from them when I touched their minds.

But mine on the other hand was fretting. The trial was soon and I was to stand before the Elders and ask for something that has not been demanded for in years. I needed to make sure I was ready and appeared firm. I stopped suddenly and sighed. I couldn’t appear firm or resolved. But I was going to try. I had no choice. I couldn’t think of any other way. Vincent wanted to be the one to destroy the man behind his madness and to do that he needed to be alive. I could stop the execution all together but then his madness would eat away at his mind. He needed to be contained while I found everything he asked of me and to avoid questions he must be under the First Penalty. How long I don’t know but I very much intend to keep him sane and to stop him from letting his life go while under the Penalty’s influence.

As I was so immersed in my own thoughts I almost died when the door swung open sharply and Dana stepped in.

“Lady, the Elders are calling for you.” She informed me gently after noticing the shock she caused me. “They wish to start.”

I nodded sharply, wringing my hands nervously as Dana stepped forward.

“Try not to worry, Lady. Everything will be fine.” She murmured to me, giving me one sympathetic look before she dipped her hands into her large apron pocket. “Here.” She said simply and handed me a small flat box, something I recognised instantly.

“He let you take it?” I asked, slightly surprised. I had expected him to turn down my request of having some samples of his blood.

“He was surprisingly co-operative.” Dana said, watching me carefully as I flicked open the box and took out each vile in turn. At first glance they appeared to contain normal blood however I knew not trust my eyes. In there was a poison, a devastating poison that had turned Vincent into a Grey blood. Quickly I put the vials away and placed the box back in Dana’s safe hands.

“I told you he was civil, Dana.” I said with a slight smile.

Dana narrowed her eyes but said nothing. It seemed she was determined to not like Vincent.

“Now come, Lady, the Elders will only be patient for so long, even for you.”

I bit my lip but allowed her to shuffle me out of the room with Viorel’s hand firmly in my grasp. Through the dark gothic hallways I was guided, my eyes picking up the old paintings that hung up on the wall clearly even though the darkness was barely kept away by small dim candles that lined the walls.

I knew the instant I was before the main hall, the place of the Elders. The silence that hung in the air was unbearable and there were a few strong vampires standing firmly before the great oak doors. Dana bowed to me here, giving me one encouraging look before she retreated back into the maze of hallways, leaving me alone before the looming doors.

Viorel squeezed my hand in comfort and smiled fleetingly when I turned to him. “You could leave you know. You don’t have to do this.” He said almost hopefully.

“No, Viorel. This is something I have no choice in.” I replied sadly then straightened my back and held my head high.

I stepped forward and one of the men instantly moved towards the door, pushing the groaning door open forcefully before announcing my entrance.

The room was darker than the others, in fact it was virtually black which made me worry briefly about Viorel. But there had been a hum of voices in the circle of thick benches which was silenced as soon as I moved into the room. I felt eyes burning onto my faces, flitting over my features as I made my way to the centre of the arch while guiding Viorel slowly behind me.

I was unnerved, there was no denying that. I felt power in this room, so much it smothered me. All the vampires here were ancients and all were either Blue bloods or first class Reds. I could feel Vasco somewhere within the building which helped calm me. He was on my side even if he was constantly silent. Ever since I was found he had silently supported me, giving me strength when I felt scared or lonely. It was a shame Jonathan wasn’t here. That Silver was friendly and always warmed the atmosphere, like a small burst of sunshine as I always thought of him.

My eyes glanced over the five seats on the pedestal at the centre of the arch and let my eyes settle on each of the three figures in the seats on either side of the empty middle. Mentally I reminded myself of the names of the Elders, each a Head of the most powerful or influential clans. First there was Beriko, leader of the only remaining African clan, the others having been destroyed by the weakening vampire blood, the Prides and the sun. Beside Beriko was Christof, a Blue blood and Head of the Kaminski clan of Russia. On the other side was Nuan of the Kwan clan, the only clan that rivalled the size and age of the Rain clan. And beside her was the empty seat of the Pluvia clan Elder. Apparently the Elder went missing years ago and has never found however Nuan refused to let the seat be filled by another, claiming he still lived and wished no other to be beside her. No one questioned the deranged Chinese vampire and left the seat unfilled and would probably remain so until Nuan died.

I slowed when we got to the few steps that led to the Elders chairs and was patient as my charge clumsily staggered up. As soon as I was in my large carved chair, I latched Viorel hand on to its frame to ensure he knew where he was. I gave his hand one stroke, a comfort to both him and myself, before I placed myself in my seat.

Instantly the deep voice of Christof rumbled from my right, making me jump slightly.

“I am pleased to have you finally here, Lady. For a Sinclair to be in their rightful chair between the four Elders is what I have been praying to happen for the past two centuries.” He told me.

I smiled hesitantly at him, taking in his stern pale features and noting this was the only Elder I could not remember harassing me, and thanked him.

“Now we shall start with proceedings.” Christof said loudly, addressing the court of ancients. “I will continue to lead as the Lady will have no knowledge of how the process works. She will watch and ask question when she feels she must. In the mean time, let us act as we have done for these past two hundred years.”

There was a rumble of acceptance from the court and then silence as Christof waved his hand.

“Bring in the accused.” Beriko called in his thick deep accent.

Instantly I felt the eyes flee my face and fix themselves onto the groaning doors as Vasco brought in Blackburn, keeping him close and guiding him but not pushing him about like the other males had done at my house. For that I was appreciative of and sent warmth to the Silver which was received with confusion.

Vincent appeared very much like he had the last time I saw him. Ragged with hair covering his face but not his sharp eyes, he stood with pride before the three Elders and myself.

“You have been brought to us with a dire accusation, Vincent Blackburn of England.” Christof said heavily. “You have been accused of slaughtering seven clan-oath and pack-oath Witches, thirteen vampires and two werewolves in the space of two weeks. What do you say to this?”

I watched Vincent carefully as he watched each Elder in turn however when his dark eyes latched onto my face and didn’t move I had to look away and try to bat a wave of heat from overwhelming my face.

It was only when Nuan spoke that I realised he had remained silent.

“Why do you not speak, Blackburn?” She asked musingly. “You must have something you wish to say about the kin and the allies you killed.”

“Do you have any sort defence?” Christof interjected.

Again, silence followed. The Elders glanced at one another and Nuan shrugged, sighing lightly. Nodding his head, Christof stood with his hands clasped in front of him.

“Then you leave us with no choice. With witnesses and the word of a Silver tying you to the killings of twenty-two of the Old Ones in cold blood and with no moves of defence, we have no choice but to place on the Second Penalty, the Penalty of death.” He said firmly. “Is there any who disagree?”

A wave of murmuring and agreement flooded out of the room however a great flood of fear enveloped me. This was the time I had to speak out to keep my end of the bargain. I gently entered Viorel’s unsettled mind and took comfort from his familiar warmth and light. Taking courage, I threw myself into action. Almost too forcefully I stood up, slapping my small hands on the wide dark polished surface of the table. Instantly there was an eerie silence and all eyes were on my face once again, this time out of shock.

“Lady? Do you disagree with the decision we have made?” Beriko asked.

“I-I do.” I said hesitantly.

“Why, Lady?” Nuan queried.

“I do not think it is harsh enough for the brutality of the killings.” I replied as firmly as I could.

Shock spread over her face. “It is death, Lady, the Second Penalty. It is the most damning we can give.”

“It is only the second.” I stated.

There was a heavy pause of horror that followed my words.

“You can’t be implying for him to go under the First?” Christof asked, so shocked he almost stuttered.

“And what if I am?”

“Then we have no choice but to obey, Lady, but it won’t stop us from being shocked.” Christof said grimly. “A Sinclair ordering a First Penalty has never happened in my time.”

“It is now.” I said, getting the hang of my determined voice and expression. “Blackburn is to be put under the First Penalty until I deem otherwise.”

All three Elders stared at me unblinkingly for a moment before they bowed under my political power.

“Then it is so.” Christof said and almost sympathetically looked back down at Vincent. “Under the orders of the current Head of the Sinclair clan, Lady Eva, you are to be condemned to be placed under the First Penalty until further notice.”

There was only silence as Vasco guided Vincent back from the room but I could feel the shock so strongly it almost bordered on horror. Frowning firmly and trying not to doubt my descicion in obeying Vincent’s will, I took Viorel's hand and quickly left the dark hall, leaving the court and the Elders to murmur about the sudden events to themselves.

*

It had happened. Vincent was now under the First Penalty.

I had been standing over him for a while now, alone in the large underground chamber where the numerous stone tables of the First Penalty existed. I watched him sorrowfully in his apparent slumber but it seemed like he was dead to me, chained down to the stone slab. I couldn’t bear to touch his mind knowing what horrors I would find.

The First Penalty was horrific. The vampire was induced in a sleep and left to wonder an infinite darkness that was filled only with your hearts fears and nightmares. Pain became acute and even the wounds you would inevitably gain in your nightmares would appear on your physical body. You never died though. You kept repeating the dreams over and over until the Penalty found something else hidden in your heart and brought it to life, torturing your mind and body until either a Sinclair ordered your release or your soul managed to wriggle free, releasing yourself from your nightmares through death.

I hated this, what I did to him even if he told me to and knew what he was asking. I wasn’t confidant that he would retain his sanity in the time it would take to find out who poisoned him. But I would try and help him in any way I could.

Not bothering to hold back the tears that were leaking out of my eyes, I leaned down and hugged him briefly, kissing his rough cheek before I turned and left the haunted room that seemed to scream agonisingly and ran back into the awaiting arms of my maids and Viorel.

*

Day had risen long ago and I was curled in my bed, suddenly appreciative of the blinds and curtains needed to block out the sun. I was so tired and my eyes hurt from the unstoppable sobbing that had forced its way out of me on our journey home. None of the maids commented on it and Viorel tried his hardest to calm me but they all knew what I thought. They all knew I hated myself for what I did.

I willed myself to sleep though. This night was the first of many to come, the beginning of me upholding a promise I made to Vincent. As soon as I dropped off into a fitful sleep, I followed the thread that was created in my first invasion of his mind and instantly latched on his.

I felt his pain, so thorough it tore at my heart. He was scared, tired and angry, the nightmares bringing out the poison horrifically that resulted in him trying to mentally harm me. He didn’t succeed. While he may be physically stronger than me, my mental power surpassed his one hundred fold and I easily fended off his offence. I instantly wrapped myself tightly around the core of his mind, banishing the darkness of both poison and nightmare away and cradled him to me. Slowly he relaxed and reached out to me, pleased I was there and clinging on to my mind for solace.

We slept beside each other yet separately at the same time, clinging to one another as sleep came and allowed us to rest and let my guilt and his fears release us for a few precious hours before the nightmares and reality returned.