All Things In Good Time

© Joan Ann Lansberry

He Who Would Be King

Sarkok sat on his throne, musing. It was an exact replica, complete with all the gold layers, of King Tut's throne. He loved to run his hand over the lion heads at the end of the armrests.

He would have nothing less than a throne for his chair. Even though he had never been a king, he could at least have a king's throne. And if his plans came to fruition as he planned, he would have a king's power, as well.

He thought back over four thousand years, when he served under a king, as bodyguard for King Lugal. He'd won his position by proving himself the strongest man in all of Sumer. He'd taken great pleasure in his carefully exercised bulging muscles. It was still a matter of great pride that he possessed them four thousand years later, and he didn't have to work hard to maintain them. The magical blood, having taken him when he was in his prime, kept him perpetually at his best.

King Lugal, a bald and limp wristed twit, did not deserve his crown and throne. That he happened to receive the magical blood as well, also undeserved, proved to be a silly prank of one of Lugal's concubines. Seducing Lugal's ladies was a favorite pastime of Sardok's. The black haired beauty, with the fairest skin laughed, as she told him, ''I've given YOU the same thing I've given Lugal! Your's is a luscious body worth preserving. I don't know why I chose bald, old Lugal, too. I do these things for the sheer amusement of it!'' And she laughed some more! How that woman loved to laugh.

Well King Lugal was king no more. He was now just another tiresome ass-wipe for the meddlesome ''Council Of Elders'', a group of thirteen elderly vampires who got their kicks by sticking their noses in the business of other vampires. Some power and authority that was! Sardok wanted to rule the world, not just the few vamps that knuckled under that pathetic organization.

With that, he stroked the slender neck of the elaborately carved crystal goblet which held the pure and perfectly chilled water he drank in great gulps. ''Where is that crap servant whose job it is to keep my glass filled?'' he wondered with great irritation.

The 'Crap servant' was hurrying back into Sardok's lair. ''Where has he BEEN? He is the most pathetic dog dung ever a bitch spat out from between her legs. WHY did I ever give HIM the gift? WHAT was I thinking?''

'Crap servant' rushed before Sardok, begging forgiveness. ''Sorry I'm late! I got distracted!'' Sardok sneered at him and yelled, ''Bring me fresh water, bring me my slippers, hurry, you dog-dung!'' And then he paused to think. 'Dog-dung' was entirely TOO nervous. Something was wrong. Sardok searched the boy's mind. ''WHY am I getting images of a puny man-vampire? A puny man-vampire on a nearby farm? Hm-m-m-m-m . . . Yet that puny vampire tossed my crap servant clear over a fence! He must have some strength! I shall have to pay a visit to him. If he cannot be persuaded to join my side, he'll have to be dealt with!''

With that, he took the last drop from the ornate goblet and tossed the goblet on the floor. So what if it broke, he could always buy more.

Go to Chapter Forty-Three, Sardok's Proposal
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