Looking around at them, Lucy saw in their eyes the same fascination she always felt when she told this story, recorded on clay tablets long before the Hebrew Bible and its account of Noah and his ark had even been thought of. They were absorbed, riveted.
“But the thing is,” she said quickly, “it’s just a story. A legend. I mean, yes, the latest geological research shows that there probably was a flood at some point in history, one big enough to leave the impression that it destroyed the world and that only a few chosen ones survived to rebuild, but it was more than likely—”
“And Gilgamesh the King,” James whispered softly. “Tell us his story, Lucy.”
“I thought you were going to tell me.”
“I will. Indulge me.”
Blinking slowly, she took a grateful sip of the water. The others were making themselves comfortable, too. Rhiannon leaned against the dark man’s shoulder, and his arm went around her. She pressed her free hand to his chest, and the cat lay down, now that she was no longer stroking its head. Brigit perched on the edge of the table, taking an apple from the bowl and biting into it.
“All right, I’ll give you the short version,” Lucy said, unable to resist her favorite topic. “Gilgamesh was a prideful and arrogant king, and not a very kind one, until he met a wild man of the forest called Enkidu, sent to teach him the error of his ways. Enkidu and the king fought when they first met, and were so equally matched that neither could prevail. They fought until they were too exhausted to stand, and in the end, they began to laugh and fell into each other’s arms. From that day on, they were best friends. Enkidu seemed to be the king’s opposite, wild, humble, a man of nature, not of palaces, and humility rather than power. And the king learned from him and became a better person. But when Enkidu was killed, the king lost his mind. He set out across the desert in search of the secret to immortality, hoping he could bring his friend back to life again. That search took him to the home of Utanapishtim, the flood survivor and only known immortal human being.”
Her audience was riveted. She was almost enjoying herself, immersed in this tale that was, after all, her life’s work.
“Utanapishtim gave that secret to him, but as the king set out across the desert again, it was stolen from him by a serpent. And that’s how the story ends.”
“That’s only how you think it ends,” Rhiannon said softly. She straightened away from the dark man, becoming the center of attention. Lucy got the feeling that was usually the case with her. “You see, Utanapishtim had sworn an oath to the gods that he would never share the gift of immortality with another living being. He’d obeyed, even to the point of watching his own family grow old and die, while he lived on, ever young, ever alone.”
Several heads nodded.
Brigit picked up the tale from there. “But he could not refuse the command of his own king. He gave Gilgamesh the gift of immortality—but it didn’t work quite the same way in him, as on the man to whom had been bestowed, because Gilgamesh received it not from the gods but in direct disobedience of their dictates. Gilgamesh became more and more sensitive to sunlight, and he craved human blood, the elixir his new self needed in order to survive. He was, in fact, the first vampire. And yes, he is still alive today.”
Lucy could barely believe it. “I must meet him,” she whispered. And then her gaze shot to the cloaked stranger. “Is it you?”
He smiled, and it was warm, affectionate even. “No, child. Not me. I’m Roland de Courtemanche, and I’m a mere eight centuries old, give or take.” He bowed deeply, and she had to blink her vision clear.
“You will meet Damien. I give you my word,” James said.
She could hardly believe it was possible. “If he’s still alive, then why can’t he translate the tablet for you?”
“It’s a dialect from a different time than his,” James told her.
“And what about Utanapishtim?” she asked, mesmerized by the tale to the point where she had momentarily forgotten that these people were holding her against her will. Or were they?
“He was punished by the gods, who took away his ability to live forever but did not take away his immortality,”