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"I cannot see your Queen being willing to risk your life for a confused old vampire on a quest that the Fae claim to care nothing about. Unless you misled me and she is actually interested in the demon's power."
Keldwyn turned on his heel so abruptly Uthe had to pull up short to avoid running straight into him. "Say the Queen was interested, my lord. What exactly could you do to stop her or me? We are in my world, and you cannot leave it without our assistance and permission. Beyond that, vampires cannot outmatch the Fae in magic or strength. But you know all that. You provoke me to no good purpose." Keldwyn's look was penetrating. "What is the answer you seek, my lord? What will bring your heart ease?"
"You not following me into certain death," Uthe snapped. "The knowledge that, whatever happens to me, you are safe. Knowing Catriona will not lose you. That your Queen and mine will always have your counsel."
Some of the anger drained out of Keldwyn's expression. "If you feel so strongly about me," he said slowly, "why do you find it so hard to comprehend why I refuse to let you go alone?"
He pivoted and continued to move through the forest, leaving Uthe standing there. Uthe shifted his glance toward a tree whose bark rearranged, revealing a pair of golden eyes that slowly blinked before the tree yawned, widely. A fairy the size of a hummingbird flew out of the mouth, flitted around and then zipped up into the tree canopy.
Uthe followed Kel. He wasn't sure why he had tried to pick a fight, except what had happened in the meadow, what he'd admitted in the stream, and watching Keldwyn have to say good-bye to Catriona had tangled themselves up inside him. The downside to denying himself excesses of emotion was that he was out of practice in managing them.
Keldwyn was setting a determined pace, suggesting he was still fueled by the argument. Uthe had seen a coldness come into Kel's eyes, or a certain tension in his body language, when he was offended or annoyed. This was different.
"Kel, hold up. My lord."
The Fae stopped, glancing over his shoulder. He had that neutral look, but Uthe wasn't fooled by it. Uthe put a hand on Keldwyn's chest, fingers sliding along the lacings in the jerkin. "I meant no offense. I am glad for your company, because your strengths are numerous, and I could hope for no better warrior to join me on this quest. But your welfare matters to me. It has been a very long time since I've been in a position to confuse my feelings for a lover with my responsibilities. I fear that I'm sacrificing you for my own comfort, not for any true need to accomplish my task. Do you understand?"
"I do. Which is why I would like you to rely on my own judgment in this and suffer no guilt at the outcome. If you can't do that, simply accept that I am stubborn, I am going with you, and there's nothing you can do about it. So that ends the discussion." Keldwyn glanced down. Uthe's fingers were beneath the lacing, lightly stroking his chest. Uthe wasn't sure when he'd started moving his fingers, but since it felt good and the Fae Lord wasn't objecting, he kept doing it. Keldwyn raised a brow. "Are you trying to seduce me into seeing things your way, my lord?"
It was such a surprising comment, Uthe pulled his hand back and scowled. "Of course not. I..."
Kel grinned, though there were deeper emotions in his eyes, in the oddly gentle note in his voice. "You think you have no power to seduce me, Varick?"
"It hadn't occurred to me, my lord, though I'm sure I do not. I was just enjoying...the feel of you. I thought I'd offended you, hurt your feelings. It bothered me."
It felt foolish to say something so sentimental, so he took another step back. Keldwyn reached out, squeezed Uthe's shoulder. "You need blood, my friend. Let us attend to it."
Keldwyn resumed course. This time, his pace was more relaxed, conveying that he was no longer angry. Uthe couldn't say he was any less concerned about the Fae going with him, but Kel was right. The time for discussion was over. They'd both made their feelings clear.
As they walked, Keldwyn pointed out features of the forest Uthe might have missed. He saw a tree with blue eyes and several teeth chewing meditatively on one of its own branch tips like a teenage girl chewing on her own hair. A two-headed serpent crossed their path, gazing at them briefly out of two sets of eyes. They passed a troop of small Fae riding a procession of woodland rodents: mice, rats, rabbits. Several rode on the back of a lumbering possum. Keldwyn nodded at them, and they bowed as he passed, their attention passing curiously over Uthe.
Uthe thought of Lord Reghan and his own father, and compared the respective hurts Keldwyn and he carried about the two males. The mercy of time was that it stretched out the pain, made it easier to bear, but there were vulnerable moments where it could hit as brutally as it had then. Forgiveness, guilt, service, vengeance, regret...it was difficult to know where one began and the other ended.
They moved into a grove of fruit trees where the fruits were dark shiny red ovals and bright orange orbs that could fit in Uthe's palm. Keldwyn pulled down one of the red ones. "Like your cherries, but different," he explained. He offered it to Uthe, bringing it to his mouth. Uthe took it that way, tasting his fingers. Keldwyn's eyes heated in sensual approval. He passed a thumb over Uthe's lips, gave his shoulder another reassuring squeeze, and they continued onward. Uthe found the fruit sweet and pleasurable, almost as much so as the brief sensation of Keldwyn's flesh.
Beware of a tongue so silver that evil can hide within its words. Terrible, terrible beauty... Monsters hide within that which shines...
The Baptist could rave with hysterical religious fervor or speak in the low, modulated tones of a college professor. Or offer insights with a warm certainty that filled the soul with hope. John had dedicated every aspect of his existence to God. His wanderings in the wilderness, his violent end and being a spirit in limbo, meant he often demonstrated erratic behavior, but it was always consistently in support of his faith. Sometimes it was expressed in a volatile way--like waking Uthe out of a sound sleep with righteous shouts of praise. Other times he mumbled hours of soothing devotionals. This was different from any of that, though. The holy man sounded...scattered.
John, are you well? Uthe rarely questioned him. It could agitate the prophet. But something was amiss.
Bleeding...Varick...the lines are bleeding. He is aware, trying to...making us bleed...
A scream erupted in Uthe's head like a banshee shriek. He dropped to his knees, futilely covering his ears as the sound was captured inside his skull, illuminating every neural pathway with pain.
You will not win. You were impure from the beginning, never fit to take your oath. Did you confess to Hugh how you helped murder children, drank their blood?
I never drank from them. Never.
Yes, you did. You were so hungry, and he wouldn't let you leave until you did... You were a man, you could have fought, but you were afraid of him... A child in a man's body... You didn't tell your Fae lover that, did you? He would be disgusted by you.
Uthe was lost in the dark, unable to make sense of where he was. Was he blind? The insidious whispers were replaced by shrieks again, and they knocked him back to his knees once more. You cannot fight me and win. Your mind is already half gone. You can focus on nothing but your Master's demands and your lust for him.
Uthe was barely a match for the demon in full health. He couldn't beat him.
"'The victory of battle standeth not in the multitude of a host; but strength cometh from Heaven.'" Hugh's voice, reasonable and even, quoting Maccabees as they faced down a gang of brigands threatening a train of pilgrims. Outnumbered eight to one, four of them against thirty-two. They'd sent the living into retreat and the other twenty-four right to their Maker.
"The beauseant has not fallen, my lord."
A Templar did not retreat from the field unless the piebald beauseant fell, and even then he would flock to the banner of another Order if one was still standing. He'd fought under the banner of the Hospitallers more than once for that reason. Struggling to his feet, Uthe felt the grip of a strong hand, helping him. He knew that touch. He could rely on that strength and the mind behind it.
"The very noble armor of obedience..." Was he mixing up his quotes? It didn't matter. He remembered a few days ago when he'd knelt for the purpose of prayer, but he'd also been on his knees before Keldwyn. It wasn't the first time he'd been lost and the Fae had brought him back on course. It suggested that only by trusting the Fae would he have a chance of accomplishing what needed to be done. Had God sent Keldwyn for that purpose? Or was the demon right? Was he a serpent in the desert, a temptation and distraction?
No. Maybe. He wasn't inclined to tell himself lies. Since he'd had to observe the spirit of the Rule in a vampire environment for all these past centuries, he submitted himself to the harsh light of truth when making a decision, to be certain he didn't stray from the proper path.
But that same skill could be applied to softer truths.
He would always surrender to God's will, but now he required an earthly form of it, one that would quiet his soul of these longings for touch, for connection. In the past he'd seen it as weakness. In the face of the Ennui, he saw it as the path to stay strong.
"I have heard it said men may go to war for causes wide and varied, but they stay and fight for those they love. So perhaps whatever God is breaks off pieces of Itself in the souls of those we love so that we will never lose our compass to Him. Like breadcrumbs."
