“Another priest from an eastern church arrived this morning. He brought news and books.” Antonius waved toward the voices. “His name is Brother Martin. Those three escorted him. It seems they’re using the church to spread word about how we will all soon achieve new prosperity.”
“How?” Foreigners rarely brought prosperity.
“I think they’re from the Empire.” Antonius tapped his finger along the wall the way an excited person about to run away tapped.
Daniel squeezed the priest’s arm. Perhaps offering comfort would help his friend to calm himself.
Antonius looked down at Daniel’s hand. His breathing visibly deepened, and his muscles loosened. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Daniel squeezed again. Antonius fidgeted less, but there were still Romans outside. “Are they looking for a fight?” Most often the Romans rode through on their way to the local lord’s castle and fortifications. Rarely did they cause real problems. “Are there more?”
“I don’t know.” Antonius tapped his finger again. “I came down to the river this morning to fetch water. I didn’t know that they’d left the tavern. I thought that maybe there might be more so I followed.” He tipped his head as he looked at Daniel. “The number I count now is more accurate than the number Brother Martin says accompanied him, correct?”
Daniel squeezed his friend’s hand. “If they lied and more than these three have come.”
Antonius looked down at their fingers and for a moment, seemed to lose his thoughts about the men outside. But he shook it off and leaned closer, to whisper again. “I followed them for an hour. They camped not far away and waited until now to move. There does seem to be only these three.”
Daniel nodded.
“They will come back sooner or later for Brother Martin.” Antonius leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. “Perhaps they will take Brother Tambor instead. Brother Martin promised to let me touch his books and to teach us all how to make copies, unlike Brother Tambor, who wishes us to pray all day.”
Antonius frowned, though. “Brother Martin also brought insights from his order. He says that we should build a… monastery? Not just a new church.” His frown deepened. “If we are to be close to Christ, we should not be tempted by the people and their wares.”
Daniel hugged Antonius. How else could he show his friend that his company was not simply appreciated, but needed as well? “You cannot hide away behind walls. The people need your guidance, Brother Antonius.”
Antonius looked away. Even with his face angled toward the sky, Daniel still saw his smile and his blush. “I was frightened that the foreigners might notice me. I am glad you are here. I feel safe now.”
Daniel squeezed Antonius again without realizing what he did. How could Antonius’s offhand remark about the safety in numbers make him feel as if his chest swelled? It made no sense. Antonius was a novice priest.
But Daniel felt the same way—safer with Antonius, as if together, they could hold off any group of foreigners.
Outside, the voices receded along the riverbank. Would these three run into the man and woman Daniel had spied earlier? Would there be a fight?
“Will you walk to the village with me?” Antonius gripped Daniel’s hand.
He needed to find Timothy, but perhaps helping his friend would give both Daniel and his brother an excuse for being out here. “I came with Timothy.”
Dare he speak of his embarrassment with Antonius? His spying and Ingund’s touching?
Antonius was a priest. Would he see Daniel’s sins as a worse threat than the foreigners? What if Antonius no longer wanted to be his friend?
A new fire crept up his neck and he let go of his friend’s fingers, but he wouldn’t lie. “Timothy wanted to spend time with his paramour.”
“Oh,” Antonius said. He obviously understood what Daniel meant by “spending time.”
Daniel nodded toward the river. “We saw people, too. They were… together.”
No, he wouldn’t lie. He couldn’t. Not to Antonius.
Slowly, his friend stood. He peered over the edge of the wall, toward the river. “I think they’re gone.” He looked back at Daniel with his big, beautiful eyes. “I am happy for your brother.”
Antonius looked down at his feet with a face that said he was as embarrassed as Daniel—as if, somehow, he’d picked up on Daniel’s emotions. He wouldn’t say more. Talk of trysts such as Timothy’s need for Ingund—or the activities of the people in the river—obviously disquieted Antonius.
Not hugging his friend again took significant effort. No one else called up in Daniel such a need to offer comfort. Not his brothers. Not his parents. And certainly none of the girls.
But Daniel would not chance another hug causing more embarrassment for Antonius.
“Timothy will return shortly. We will take you back to the church before returning to our home,” he said.
Antonius looked down at his feet once again. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Daniel squeezed Antonius’s hand. Antonius’s comfort was more important than Daniel working through his embarrassment, anyway.
Together they walked toward the vineyard side of the ruins to wait for Timothy.
Chapter Four
Papa threw a cooking pot. It bounced off the log wall of their home and rang like an iron bell as it dropped onto Mama’s wooden chest.
Unlike most of the homes in and near the village, theirs had three rooms: a sleeping area for Mother, Father, and Papa, another for the brothers, and a large work and cooking area. Father and Papa set the foundation and raised the walls themselves, and Father carved all the doors for the house, as well as their barn.
Mama kept most of her books and scrolls in boxes and urns hidden behind the stones of their hearth. Father kept his carpentry tools in a stack to the side. And Papa kept the house and lands functioning, no matter what he threw against the wall.
“You spied on the Dracos?” Papa yelled. A stirring spoon followed the pot, along with one of their wooden bowls. “Did you two not sense the danger?”
Papa knew. He’d known before they stepped into the house. He didn’t ask about the foreign men or say anything about how they’d helped Brother Antonius return safely to the priests. He only cared about Daniel spying on “the Dracos” while Timothy “ruined that girl.”
Daniel didn’t say a word about the men. No need to rile up Papa more than he already was.
Timothy’s face looked as puffy and red as Papa’s. He’d done his share of yelling also. “Papa—”
“Did they realize?” Papa blinked and his eyes did the flat stare that accompanied the use of his past-seeing abilities. All three of their parents’ eyes took on a specific, distant look when they used their Parcae gifts, and Daniel suspected that his eyes would as well, when they activated him and his brothers.
“I cannot see.” Papa threw another pot.
Of their three parents, Papa disliked his weak gift the most. His parents claimed that they were not strong Parcae. Father could not predict the future with detail. Though Mama settled disputes, she said her present-seer did not tell her how to do it, only that it needed doing. And Daniel suspected that Papa’s inability to past-see Daniel’s spying angered him more than the man Daniel spied on in the first place.
“No,” Timothy lied. He didn’t know. He didn’t see the eye behind the trees.
The huge dragon eye.
Daniel had been correct. He saw a dragon. Part of a dragon. And the naked skin of the man who lived with that dragon.
Timothy was right to lie about it.
“Did you see the beast? Did he see you?” Papa paced behind their table. “Never look directly at a dragon! They make moving colors and patterns on their hides! They bewitch and mesmerize.” He waved his fingers in front of his face.
“No!” both boys said at once.
Daniel had only seen the beast’s eye, no patterns or colors. Did the dragons glimmer like the rosette window in the new church? How w
as that possible? Were they magical? But magic was of the old ways, not of God.
“I know what that face you are making means.” Papa jabbed his finger at Daniel’s nose. “Do not seek them out, Daniel.”
Daniel wanted to stomp his foot like a child but managed to resist. “I am not stupid, Papa!”
“The Dracae are dangerous!” Papa yelled. “If one of them catches you meddling in their affairs, they will slice you groin to sternum. Do you two understand? They favor Mutatae and the normal people of the world. Not Parcae. Never Parcae.”
Daniel was not aware of having met one of the changelings with the ability to shift their bodies, though he suspected that his parents had dealings with them. Father warned of the truly dangerous Mutatae—the few who enthralled and made the person behave as the Mutatae wished.
“They call themselves Shifters now, Papa.” Timothy frowned.
Papa slammed his fist into the table. “You know this how?” He’d turned a deeper shade of red than Daniel liked.
“Papa, calm down.” Daniel curled his hand around Papa’s arm. “This Dracos man did not see us.” He glanced at Timothy. “Neither of us saw his beast.”
Timothy nodded, but his eyes widened. Daniel’s brother was not a good liar. “Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe the lord of these lands hired a new knight. It’s possible—”
“You spied on the Dracos.” Papa rubbed his face. “The fucking Dracos. Why are Ladon-Human and the Great Sir here? Their lands are a several days’ walk north.”
“Maybe they were passing through?” It seemed possible. “He wasn’t traveling with a large group, Papa. Only a woman.”
“A woman?” Papa looked up at the roof. “Was she small, and dark-haired like him?”
Daniel shook his head. “No. I don’t remember the color of her hair but it wasn’t black, like his. She looked larger than Ingund.”
Papa pinched his nose. “She was likely a Mutatae.”
“Shifter, Papa!” Timothy blinked and looked at Daniel as if he knew what Papa was about to say. “Ingund’s family is normal but they have many dealings with Shifters. She says they’re mostly Christians now and that because we are too it’s fine that we are Parcae… Fates. She said we should call ourselves Fates. It marks us as good people, being Fates. No one will hold the old ways and the old commandments against us and her family would accept me even though I’m not Shifter!”
Papa pointed at Timothy. “How many times have you fucked that girl?” Papa’s back straightened and his steel-gray eyes turned seer-use flatly-blank.
“Papa!” Timothy clenched his fists.
“How is it that she is not yet with child?” Papa threw a bowl at the wall. “Have you no self-control, Timothy?”
Daniel’s brother frowned and his lip jutted out. “I love her.”
Papa dropped onto the bench near the fire. He and Father had built the house and the furniture themselves, as well as the barn and the other outbuildings. They were good carpenters, and along with Mama, provided sought-after services to the local villages. Their family did not lack for goods or land.
The priests came around their homestead more than Papa and Father liked, often frowning at the uneven number of wives about, but Daniel thought they visited because Father worked to build the new church in the village rather than to cause their family problems.
But now he wondered. Did the village see them as the good Christians Ingund’s family preferred?
The world suddenly took on the extra brightness, the extra delineations that came with vigilance. That extra sensing a person does when they think they’re about to be attacked by a wolf or a bear or large cat.
Daniel had never before thought of politics as a sleeping pack of killer animals waiting to be startled to viciousness, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that his family was about to get mauled.
Brother Antonius, as well. No one else in the village cared to learn the meanings behind the Latin phrases in the church’s scrolls or in Mama’s horde of books, only Antonius.
Papa rubbed his neck instead of his head. “Of course you love the girl. She’s your present.” He looked up at the ceiling. “God knows what your future will be.”
Daniel sat on the far end of the bench. “Papa, you’re not making sense.” His parents rarely made sense when they spoke words associated with their seeings. He had long ago vowed to do better, when he became active.
Papa closed his eyes and inhaled. “You are to stay away from her, do you understand? Your future is not bound to hers. Your father has said so.”
“Papa!” Timothy threw his arms up and stomped his foot like a toddler. “I love her!”
Their papa ran his fingers through his dark hair. Daniel did look remarkably like Papa, though he and Marcus also carried Mama’s less-pale tones.
“Right now you love her.” Papa’s words rolled off his tongue in a way that sounded more like an accusation pointed at Timothy’s not-yet-activated present-seer than any fatherly concern. “Do not bring us into her family’s political posturing!”
Timothy grunted and stepped backward. His features hardened, and his flush tones moved from the pink of embarrassment to the reds of anger. “Then why don’t you activate me? So I know what’s right and what’s not.”
Papa pinched the bridge of his nose. “I will not activate you.”
Timothy’s mouth opened and closed, as did Daniel’s. How could their Papa say such a thing? They were a family.
Rigid, his anger making him clench his fists so tightly his fingers turned white, Timothy flung open the door and walked out into the still-damp air.
Papa watched him go, his face unreadable until he thrust a finger at Daniel. “And you!” he said, his mouth thinning. “Use your damned head!”
“Ingund—”
“Do not blame that girl!” Papa sprang to his feet again. “Be careful with whom you reveal your desires, son.”
The future bared its teeth and would take a bite and if Daniel didn’t watch out, he’d lose more than a finger. The future screamed so loudly he heard it in his not-yet-activated head. He was about to get eaten.
“Who are the Dracae, Papa?” His words passed his lips in a whispered hush, as if the quiet, reverent parts of his mind wanted him to do exactly as Papa asked.
Papa’s anger drained away, but he did not look at Daniel. He watched the door. “The Dracae are dangerous to our kind, Daniel. Stay away. Know only that they hold more power than all your family combined. Do not seek them out, no matter how beautiful they may be.”
Papa frowned and turned away. “Go now. Find your brothers. Father will return shortly from his day building and we need to prepare our meal.”
Daniel nodded. Timothy had run off, most likely toward Ingund’s home. Marcus and Mama would return soon with meats and greens, and Father from his carpentry work at the church. His family was scattered to the winds.
Hopefully, they would not stay that way.
Chapter Five
When Father returned from his tasks at the church, he took both Mama and Papa aside.
They gestured and whispered and occasionally yelled words such as “fight” and “they’d massacre us” and “they won’t help.” Daniel could not make sense of their conversation.
To his sons, his deep voice booming, Father only said, “You three will come to the church with me tomorrow.” He scowled first at Timothy, then at Daniel. “You will stay within my sight, do I make myself clear?” Then he stowed his tools near the fire and dropped into his chair to warm his feet.
At dinner, he gnawed on his rabbit leg, his eyes narrow and his words few.
Daniel gnawed on his own bit of chewy rabbit. Timothy sulked over his bitter bowl of greens and root vegetables. Thankfully, he had not yet made it to Ingund’s homestead before Daniel dragged him home. Across the table, Mama frowned. Their brother Marcus scowled at Daniel and Timothy—more, Daniel suspected, because he’d opted not to participate in their afternoon fun than because he agreed with their pa
rents.
They ate their meal in silence and cleaned up to more clattering and banging than chats and laughs, and when Daniel could no longer bear the heavy weight of his family’s disapproval, he walked into the night air wondering if, perhaps, he might find some calm under the stars.
His parents kept important information from the brothers. Daniel knew it. Timothy knew it as well, though he seemed more concerned about Ingund’s welfare than about his family. Marcus frowned and looked between their parents and his brothers, his face expressionless and purposefully bland.
Daniel jumped to the roof of their coop and quickly pulled himself to the roof of their barn. Carefully, he scaled the rough boards fastened to the outer wall of the barn to the taller roof and dropped his backside onto the rushes and the slats.
The woods floated in on the early night air—whiffs of green trees and wild decay mixed with the sounds of animals both small and large. Crickets chirped. Somewhere deep in the trees, a wolf howled.
Wolves walked the world. Wolves he could not see, hear, touch, or smell. Wolves clothed as friends and others dressed in nothing but black leather bracers.
Daniel dug in his boot heels and leaned back onto the rushes. Above, the stars glinted and glowed, bright pinpoints in the veil of the sky. The moon glimmered, a round, bright wonder that looked to Daniel as if God held a mirror to the sun so that when His mistress Earth turned her back to her love each night, she always saw the reflection of his warm, wonderful face.
There were angles of reflection from the sky to the land. Terms of consistency and ways to measure. When Father built, he marked and cut with precision. How could God be any different? Jesus had been a carpenter, after all. The universe hinged on the workings of a precise Lord.
Or so the priests told him. He wondered, though, about how he fit into the precision of the world. He was to be the future-seer of a triad with promise, yet their future-seeing Father had not yet spied the talisman on which they would activate—and the context through which their combined abilities would focus.
Dragon’s Fate and Other Stories Page 3