It was lucky his blood types could handle human food, he thought as he roamed the slushy roads of London.
Clayton gathered up the food he had bought and quickly walked down the dirt road. He was ready for a meal, no matter if it was human food or a human.
He hadn’t walked several paces when a man blocked his path. He was bulky, or it seemed to Clayton since the soiled sweater was too large for him. The bloke wore a cap that once appeared to be yellow, but now only traces of the yellow appeared between the excess of stains.
Clayton was feeling generous, so he moved out of the gentleman’s way. The man walked to the same side, effectively blocking him.
The man sniffed the air. “You’re one of them sweet smellers, ain’t ya?”
“And you smell sour, what of it? Are you going to let me pass, or do I have to go through you?”
“I just wanted to relay a message to you, Clayton Cole of the Cole Tribe,” the man said with a tinge of humor.
Clayton hid his surprise. No one in the city knew who he was. To the humans, he was just a farmer. “I can’t wait to hear it. What’s the message?”
“The Yeomen class, which your tribes are, are going to lose your lands that you’ve labored for so long.”
“But why? I am neither rich nor poor and don’t own much land.”
“That’s what the Yeomen class means, you humbug.”
“Hey, now! There’s no reason for cuss words,” (4) Clayton said with a touch of anger.
“Anyways, that’s all I came here for. You can go back to your land before it’s taken from ya.”
“Who dispatched you to find me?”
The man smiled. He only had three teeth on the top of his mouth and two teeth on the bottom. “Sol Rastin, the mediator, and Maryl Rosser, the Seeker sent me.”
The man got out of his way, tipped his hat in Clayton’s direction, and walked down the dirt path while whistling a tune.
Clayton hurried his pace, and when he was out of range of the marketplace, he used his vampire speed to race home, eager to learn what was going on with his land.
When he got home, his twin sons, Markus and Grady, were eating human food. Clayton placed the items he had purchased on the kitchen table and looked at them.
“Where is your mother?”
Grady, the husky of the two, replied, “She is at the council. They had an emergency meeting.”
“Why was I not summoned?” demanded Clayton.
“Mom told us to let you be, that she would take care of the meeting,” Markus said in a soft-spoken manner.
“Come with me, both of you!”
Clayton raced out of the house with his sons right behind him.
When they got to the circular wooden area, all of the spots were taken. Clayton walked to the edge of the wooden deck. A chorus of chatter resounded all around him.
“What is the meaning of this session? Clayton yelled.
The talking stopped, and everyone’s eyes turned to him. Ada walked down the steps from the entrance, took hold of Clayton, and guided him to the center stage.
“We are glad you are here, husband!”
Murmurs of approval sprung up and threatened to halt Clayton’s questions.
“Everyone, calm down, and tell me what is going on!” Clayton demanded.
“King George, the second, has declared our land Yeomen class and aims to take it away!” Ada in a state of panic.
“Why would he do such a thing?” Clayton asked no one in particular.
“Landowners have crops and animals, both typically make money, according to the decree that was posted on our front door. It was placed soon after you left to go to the marketplace, father,” Markus said plainly.
“And King George wants all of our lands! Either we give him our lands, or he will forcibly take it from us!” Ada cried.
“No one is going to take our land!” Clayton decreed.
“Son, if you don’t know, King George’s army outnumbers all of our kin of smellers by more than a thousand fold,” Tabatha stated firmly.
“But we can’t die from their muskets or knives. Our skin is imperious to such stuff,” Clayton said with exasperation.
“But we can’t fight them, son,” Tabatha said with sadness.
“Why not?” Clayton said in disbelief.
“Because then he, and the entire kingdom, will know of our existence!” Ada complained.
“It’s true, son. We can’t let humans know vampires are living among them.”
“Doesn’t this tribe, and the others represented here, see what I see? They can’t kill us, so what would be the worst thing that could happen? We fight, they eventually lose, and we get to keep our land and have plenty of meals to fill our belly’s!”
“While that may be true, Clayton, you need to expand your scope of thought,” Tabatha said as she folded her arms.
“Make me see the full scope of the picture, would you please, mother? Because apparently, I am not grasping it.”
Tabatha looked around at the council members, then at her son. “If we choose to fight and win, it will allow King George to know the existence of our kind. In the process, he will learn of the other types of vampires and, if he was smart, forge relationships with the other smellers who don’t have land, which comprises most of the different types of smellers. With them on the King’s side, we could conceivably lose both our land and our lives.”
“Then we need to have a peace treaty with the other kinds of vampires,” Clayton said with seriousness.
“No, there has to be another way, husband!”
“I am open to suggestions. Let me ask you a question, Ada. Do you want them to take our land away from us?”
“No, of course not.”
“Did you want to help fight them off?”
“No.”
“Then, I am at a loss
