by Joey W. Hill
“I promised to tell you more details about the demon, my lord. I think it is time to do that. Recalling all of it may help me figure out the clues Fatima has left me.”
Uthe moved away, back toward the section of wall with the thickest covering of symbols. Keldwyn wasn’t sure if it was to study the wall or to establish some distance from the unspoken questions that would implicitly come on the heels of the others they’d just raised. He wasn’t sure if he himself was ready for insights about that. In the heat of passion, feeding the vampire, sinking deep inside him, had felt like the still point of the universe where nothing else would matter, but recalling Reghan’s life and tragic death had dispelled that fantasy, perhaps for both of them.
It gave him a sense of loss and regret. He wondered what it would be like to have a vampire’s marking so he could be inside Uthe’s mind, understand what the other male was thinking right now. Perhaps it was best not to have that intimacy.
“When Hugh of Payns and his brethren were charged by the Pope and the King of Jerusalem to protect pilgrims, they were given lodging in a portion of the Temple of Solomon, or rather the building built on top of the supposed ruins of the Temple of Solomon. The underground stables there could house over a thousand horses, and were a perfect place for a vampire to sleep.” Uthe’s expression was warm and slightly ironic, an acknowledgement of what was being unsaid. Keldwyn couldn’t help but respond to it. He nodded, which eased some of the tension in the vampire’s face, as well as that holding his own shoulders in a straight line.
Uthe turned back to the symbols, his voice relaxing into a normal storytelling cadence. “We protected pilgrims, yes, but the pope had another charge for us. He wanted us to explore those ruins deep in the earth and see if the gold the Jews had supposedly hidden after the Roman invasion in 70 A.D. was still there. A large effort would have caught attention, so the small order was the perfect detail to pursue such a charge. From the beginning, there was little hope that we would find what the Romans and Saracens would not have. The rumor of the gold had persisted since the invasion. But no one had a vampire who could search deeper levels, where space and air were far more questionable, and whose senses could see further, detect the hollowness of chambers behind rock.”
Keldwyn sat down on a boulder Uthe had been using as a vantage point to study the wall earlier. Uthe was trailing his fingers absently along his chest and abdomen. Keldwyn had used his own lips and tongue to collect Uthe’s release, but he expected the vampire could still feel the faint stickiness of the combined fluids of his own body and Keldwyn’s mouth. Uthe was fastidiously clean, so Kel wondered if the vampire choosing to discuss more of what Keldwyn wanted to know, rather than first going to the water source to clean up, was an intentional delay, so he didn’t yet have to wash away the feel of Keldwyn’s mouth upon him. He knew how he felt. He needed to wash up as well, but wasn’t yet inclined in that direction.
Catching his fingers in the waist band of the cotton pants, he tugged Uthe back a step. The vampire glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
“Sit.” Keldwyn indicated his knee. Uthe looked amused.
“I’m a little big to be bounced on someone’s knee.”
“Yes, you are.” Keldwyn still pulled at him. Uthe placed his ass on Kel’s knee with a sigh, but continued to study the wall as Keldwyn ran a hand up and down the faint bumps of his spine, his other hand curving over Uthe’s hip. “Tell me the rest.”
“We did find gold. Some. The Jews were far too smart to leave it all in one place, but it was enough to make the Pope ecstatic. It earned the Order his endorsement and, through his encouragement, the endorsement of Bernard Clairvaux, who was considered one of the most devout of all those sworn to the Church. At that time, he was the touchstone of the faith. Those endorsements validated our purpose. It launched the Order like a rocket. Donations of money and property came pouring in. Hugh was truly pious, a true believer. It was the validation that fueled him, not the money and power. He envisioned the Templars as a pure army of God, that simple squadron of nine knights protecting the pilgrims symbolizing the Order’s enduring meaning, our one inalterable goal. Yet we became an army of men, with their usual failings in power and politics.”
Keldwyn wrapped his fingers around Uthe’s shoulder and pulled him back further so he was leaning against Keldwyn’s chest. He adjusted his upper body against Kel’s shoulder so Keldwyn could see what Uthe was seeing. The position allowed Keldwyn to slide the hand that had been around his back down his front. His skin was still faintly sticky, pleasingly so. He enjoyed that and the defined ridges of Uthe’s abdomen, descending into the loosely tied cotton pants to find his cock. Uthe was already semi-erect. Under Keldwyn’s knowledgeable fingers, he grew stiffer.
“Didn’t we just…”
“Yes.” Uthe let out a harsh groan as Keldwyn dug his fingers into the rigid shaft, an admonition, and increased the firmness of his strokes. “You started to look sad, unhappy. This will help.”
Uthe made a strangled half chuckle. “I think it helps you even more, my lord. You are selfishly insatiable.”
“My selfishness will benefit you. Keep going. You found more than gold.”
“Yes, we found more than the gold.” Uthe got quiet then, and his hand curled over Keldwyn’s wrist, a request the Fae honored by stilling his provocative touch, though he kept his hand loosely wrapped over Uthe’s genitals, absorbing the heat. He pressed a kiss against Uthe’s back. Uthe let out a quiet sigh, a resigned acceptance to its comfort.
“I wouldn’t have found it without the dagger. Magic can be mindless, drawn to other magics like magnets. One night I was so far down I doubted any human could get that deep, but a thousand years can change the earth’s layers, and rope could have been used to take things even lower than men could reach. It was just a tiny crevice, formed where water or fire might once have cut a path. The dagger at my hip, it…vibrated. I could feel the heat of its energy warming my flesh even through my clothing. I dug through, following its direction. That’s when I found the head. The head of the Madman of the Wilderness. John the Baptist.”
* * *
Keldwyn came to a full stop. Uthe, his mind obviously now back in those tunnels, leaned forward. He braced his hands on his knees, eyes fixed on the wall. Keldwyn spread his fingers out over his back, absorbing the beat of his heart. “The head that Herodias, wife of Herod, had cut off as a result of her hatred for him.”
“The same,” Uthe responded. “Many things back then were considered relics, believed to hold magical power because they were the remains of someone sainted or holy. Most were simply bones. But there were advisors in Herod’s court who saw an opportunity to use John’s fabled power. Thank God, the Jews who hid the head there left a scroll with it, telling us what had been done. Though they’d never intended it to be found, they made sure if it was, the finder would not unleash mayhem unwittingly. The scroll explained black arts had been used to bind a demon in the same skull, to hold John’s soul there for all eternity. To do it, they used the soul of an unformed innocent. So there are two innocent souls captured in that one head with the demon.”
Uthe paused. “There is no record of what mischief those who did the foul deed were able to wreak with the demon, but our guess is their foolishness got them killed. And the ignorance of evil men left John a test for his soul these ten centuries. The Baptist’s soul can be released if the head is destroyed, but if destroyed without the proper preparations, the demon would be released. He belongs to the ranks of the Horseman known as Plague, and he would unleash disease upon the world that could cause immeasurable harm. As long as there was no way to send the demon back from whence he came, John the Baptist’s soul was not free to ascend. As far as the other innocent soul, I have always prayed that it—male or female, I do not know—is insensible to all of this.”
“The gods be willing,” Keldwyn said in grim agreement.
“Long ago, Haris’s aunt, Shahnaz, was visited by an angel who said he co
uld destroy the head entirely, but he’d have to obliterate all who inhabited it,” Uthe continued. “The sacrifice of the innocent and the Baptist was considered a deeply regrettable but necessary act for ensuring the demon was not freed. Yet Shahnaz showed the angel she’d found a way to increase the strength of the bindings upon the demon and prolong their effectiveness, using other relics we’d discovered during our excavations. Through my contact with Lord Reghan, she’d also secured permission to place the heads and relics in the Shattered World until a means to separate the souls could be found. That changed his course.”
He recalled Shahnaz’s words once more. “I thought of the angel as our enemy as first, but he was like us, Lord Uthe. He understood sacrifice and loss, the difficult decisions that often have to be made. He had no more desire to see those innocent souls destroyed than we did. John began to argue, to propose alternatives that would sacrifice him but not the innocent, unnamed one. However, the angel quelled him. He said, ‘You can yet serve the Lord’s Will inside the gates of Heaven, Madman of the Wilderness. If we can get you there, then that is the ideal solution for us all. Can you accept the Lord’s Will and stay trapped until some way is found to free you that will spare your soul and consign the demon back to Hell?’
“John replied, ‘I will ever serve the Lord’s Will.’ And that was that.”
“Unfortunately, we have passed the second millennium, and we are once again facing a similar dilemma. The binding Shahnaz imposed has been weakening, which is what allowed the demon to influence and call the Saracens to his aid. But the relics’ strength has never diminished, so he is limited to what he can accomplish from his current prison.”
“Relics strong enough that time cannot diminish them,” Keldwyn mused. “Are you going to enlighten me, my lord, or let me fester in curiosity?” He played his fingers over Uthe’s ribs, and the vampire shifted.
“The head is guarded and bound by three objects of power. The Spear of Longinus, the Holy Grail and the True Cross.”
Keldwyn blinked. “The Templars had a splinter of the True Cross until Hattin. They lost it there. How did you get it back? And wouldn’t Shahnaz’s death have predated Hattin?”
“Yes, it did. But I did not say a splinter. There were pieces chipped off of it after the Crucifixion, but the remainder was taken and hidden with other relics.”
“So the whole Cross is binding the demon inside the head.”
“Minus a few shavings. Yes.”
“Uthe, these are objects of power that humans would fight wars to obtain. And you have guarded them since the turn of the first millennium, hiding their existence from…everyone.”
Uthe lifted a shoulder as if it was of no consequence. “Humans have always fought over religion. They fight over Jerusalem still. If we could have looked into the future and seen that, I’ve often wondered if the Crusades would ever have happened. Though now we can look back in time and see the same folly and wisdom in hindsight, and it still doesn’t seem to matter. The fighting continues. It’s not much more than common sense, realizing the relics would only increase the conflict. It’s best for them to remain legends.”
He spoke matter-of-factly. Since magic was such an integral part of Fae life, Keldwyn would expect that type of pragmatism from one of his own. Hearing it from a former Templar, a devout one, and a vampire who had as much magical ability as any human, was unexpected. No. Extraordinary. Putting that aside, he returned to the main point. “So this is why you said you often had separate missions from the rest of your Templar brethren.”
“It was the charge given to me above all others,” Uthe agreed. “When we discovered the head and the relics, Hugh prayed about what we should do. As faithful as he was to the Pope, he revered God more. He was ahead of his time, understanding that no man’s heart was above corruption. He spoke to a wise woman about it. She was a village peasant woman and, much like Joan of Arc, tapped into the mysteries of the divine through the simplicity of her faith. Her views on God, faith and love were similar to that of Marguerite Porete, who would not be born until over a century later. As a result of their discussion, he called me before him and told me the head and relics must remain hidden together until we found the means to release the spirit of the Baptist and the innocent. He left me with that charge, because he knew I would live for centuries and the answer might take that long to find. I was to hide all of them where no one else would know about them, even Hugh. We never spoke of it again, though I reported directly to him and he authorized all of my travels and need for resources when necessary.
“When the gold was delivered to the Pope, Hugh made no mention of these things. The Pope rewarded Hugh for the riches by supporting the Order fully at the Council of Troyes. The Templar order mushroomed from there, though Hugh died shortly thereafter. Thank God, so he never saw what the Templars later became.”
“The Pope never knew you’d found something far more powerful and valuable than gold.”
“Again, thank God.” Uthe went silent. Keldwyn sensed he was studying the symbols again, for he shifted, then dropped his head back to follow a string of markings up along the ceiling. Keldwyn accommodated him, wrapping his arms around Uthe’s lower abdomen and chest, tipping his head to look up with him at the maze of symbols whose meaning was incomprehensible to him, but not to Uthe. “The village woman…what she told Hugh… ‘It begins and ends with the mind.’ I wonder…”
Uthe straightened, nearly bumping Keldwyn’s chin as his head snapped around so he could look at a blood-colored string of words on the left side of the chamber. Then to the right and back to the ceiling again. He clamped a hand on Keldwyn’s leg. “There. There it is. Right there above me. Ah, dear God, Fatima. There it is.”
He surged up abruptly, though Keldwyn was amused and touched that the vampire reached back to steady Keldwyn from the violent motion. His eyes never left the code Fatima had left him as he did it. Reaching up, he traced the crimson symbols. His face was drawn as he lowered his gaze to Keldwyn, though there was a grim humor there, too.
“It’s in her head. Actually in her head. She placed the spell craft there with a trigger to unlock it when necessary. This is the animation spell we will need to use when we get to the other head, and from there it is a matter of contact and containment.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “So now she’s probably laughing at me, for being in such a rush to build a cairn over her body. I’ve created extra work for myself.”
“I will help you uncover her. And I will remove the head, if that is easier for you. She was your friend.”
Uthe focused on him then. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he inclined his head, not accepting or denying the offer, but acknowledging the kindness. “I will pray over her before we remove the head. Are there any magics you have that can help us transport her…discreetly?”
“If the magic is malleable, I have a containment spell that will allow us to compact and transfer the energy into another vessel.” Reaching out, he grasped the Templar Seal Uthe wore. “I will place it in this, and it can be called forth with the same trigger. It should not impact the magic already there, but I will examine the head closely to be sure. If that decision exceeds my own knowledge, we can always take it to Queen Rhoswen.”
“Is that wise? I do not mean offense.” Uthe added. “I’ve guarded this secret for a long time, because there are many who would misuse it.”
“Your relics are items of magical purpose, and those types of things are littered throughout the Fae world, though admittedly these sound like objects of exceptionally strong power. Yet…yes, my lord. I trust Queen Rhoswen. Her capriciousness usually has more to do with unresolved issues about family than the way she rules her kingdom. At one time that was not so, but…” Keldwyn nodded. “She is a good Queen, a fair female. You can trust her as you do me with the knowledge. If you do, in fact, trust me with the knowledge.”
Uthe’s gaze glinted in amusement. “You seem to have little interest in riches or stolen power,
my lord. You have ever struck me as the type of male who will not allow attachment, loyalty or personal gain turn you away from what must needs be done. No matter how much you try to portray yourself as a selfish, overly fashion conscious Fae.”
The compliment was sincerely meant, despite the jest. Keldwyn looked mollified, though he tossed Uthe a narrow expression for the clothing barb. “Does the head possess any unusual powers beyond what you’ve already identified?”
“The demon and the Baptist can speak, dispense wisdom or guidance, or deception and misdirection, depending on whose voice it is offering the counsel.” Uthe paused. “The Baptist still has the power of foresight and the demon can manipulate and lead a weak soul astray, in the twisted way that demons have always possessed to secure souls. You’ve seen that in the demon’s reach.”
“Understood.” Keldwyn frowned, already crafting the binding he’d use for the sorceress’s weapon. “Let’s examine the head and see what we can do to leave here under the cover of darkness.”
* * *
Keldwyn verified the carefully wrought magic embedded in the sorceress’s head would not be impacted by his ability to rearrange its matter. He had his hands cupped around her smashed and decomposing face as he made the determination, feeling, probing intently. When he was done, he gently slid his fingers from around her skull. “I will still need the head to be severed from the rest of the body. Would you like me to do it, Lord Uthe?” he asked again.
He could see that Uthe did, which was why the vampire of course didn’t relinquish the responsibility. Keldwyn knew he would have done the same. Uthe removed the sword from his pack. He took a couple practice swings, and then decapitated the body in one brief stroke. The expression on his face, the flash of soul deep pain, made Keldwyn wish he’d done it before Uthe could tell him no. The vampire dropped to one knee beside her, hand clasped on the sword pommel, his other palm on her chest. As he offered a plea for her forgiveness and prayers to lay her to rest, Keldwyn knelt by her severed head and began to do his part, speaking the words of magic in a murmur so as not to disturb Uthe. When Uthe finished, Keldwyn didn’t want him to have to see the head there, detached from her body.