The Long Walk (The Verge Walker Book 1)

by Ben Reeder

  Outside the window, he could see the trail leading up to the cabin and the small barn. Beyond that, the valley she had settled in stretched before him, the opening facing south. The feel of it whispered “home” to him, and he had no difficulty getting comfortable with one of the dime novels.

  The sun dropped in the sky, and his eyes became heavy. Briefly, he considered lighting a candle, but the energy to do so seemed more than it was worth. He noted the page number and set the book on the desk, then made his way to the mattress. No sooner than his eyes closed, however, he sat up, wide awake. The sun was fully down, and the night sky blazed with stars. In moments, he had his boots on and was standing out on the front step, gazing at the constellations overhead. The Milky Way spread out across the sky, a blanket of white in the darkness. It was a beautiful sight, but...it wasn’t why he was outside.

  His feet started moving, and he knew there was a place he was supposed to be. North and east he went climbing a narrow, faint trail in the dim light. He needed to be somewhere, and his body knew where to go.

  Anne Miller shed her clothes, and with them, her identity as the Widow Miller. Here, she was Priestess, and soon, she would assume the mantle of Goddess. Candles had been set in each of the four quarters, corn in the north, water in the west, herbs smoldering in the east and a second candle burning in the south. It was Midsummer, the Longest Day, when the Sun God was at his greatest strength. It was the day when the Horned God was at the peak of his strength as the Oak King, and in times past, it had been a night of lovemaking with Jonathan.

  Anne walked the circle and called the quarters, feeling the tingle of magic on her skin. It had always been thus in this place, her grove. If the air shimmered at the quarters, for tonight, it was the magic in the air. But the circle closed differently this time. The shimmer wasn’t just above the candles.

  I am between Worlds, she thought. Her body shivered under the rush of magic, and her nipples turned to hardened points. Tonight, the Oak King was the celebrant, honored as he brought life to the Earth with the light of the sun.

  “Mother Goddess, be in me, Brigit, Hecate, Diana, walk the world with me tonight! I draw you down into me, be welcome, come as you like, stay if you will, go as you please.” She swayed in the breeze, her skin almost aflame with energy. Never had she felt things happen like this before.

  “Horned God, we ask you to come, be present in the flame tonight, reign as Oak King in all your strength tonight!” She reached out and grabbed the box of lucifer matches. The first struck, and she flung it onto the bonfire she’d prepared. The flames went up with a blue tinge to them, and when she looked across the fire, she saw Him. Could it be the Oak King was made flesh? Then the figure raised his head, and Caleb’s features came into focus.

  “Caleb, I can explain,” she started to say while she rounded the fire. With a casual gesture, Caleb cut an opening in the circle and stepped through it. The world rippled around them, then the opening closed itself up.

  “There is nothing to explain,” He said. “You summoned me. I answered.”

  “I..I called for the God...for the fire…” she said, but even as she spoke she moved toward him. His eyes were on her, and in that moment, she felt no shame in being seen in her nakedness. Her hands lifted the hem of his shirt, and it slid off of him. He pulled the string on his breeches, and let them fall to the ground around his ankles, revealing his manhood in its erect perfection. Then his arms were around her, and she was the Goddess in the embrace of the God. Her womanhood went slick at his touch, and when he lifted her from her feet, she knew what he had in mind. There was no foreplay, no need of it. There was only Desire, sacred and pure between them, as it had been for all Eternity. He held her effortlessly, poised to enter her, but he hesitated.

  “Do you want this?” he asked her.

  “Yes,” she whispered so she didn’t scream it, “Since the sun first rose in the sky, I’ve wanted You. I want You now, and I will want You until the mountains tumble into the sea and time stands still.” The words were Goddess speaking to God, and still, he hesitated. Then, between heartbeats, Anne was face to face with Caleb.

  “Are these your Gods?” he asked, his eyes full of wonder and sorrow.

  “Yes, they are. Why do you hesitate? I want this. I want you. Even if it is only for tonight.” She kissed him, her lips touching his both in spirit and in flesh. His kiss was gentle in return, infinitely so, as a man might touch something of great value but of equal fragility. In that moment, she felt him enter her, felt her breasts press against his chest, and his hands grasp her bottom to pull her closer. Their bodies cried out in ecstasy, but the communion continued.

  “My God would not condone it. It’s strange, He’s forsaken me, and I still fear Him.”

  “Why would your God turn His face away from you?”

  “I’ve done things that are beyond forgiving.”

  “If your God won’t give you absolution, my Goddess will,” she said. Her body reached up and touched his face, their movements in perfect unison. He bent his face down to kiss her, and she parted her lips to accept it. “As I give you the gift of my body, freely given, I give you my God and my Goddess. If your God will not have you, take mine.”

  Again, the moment between heartbeats came, and they felt the attention of the God and Goddess who inhabited them turn to them.

  “Be present in this moment, daughter of Eire and son of Albion,” the God said. “I did not venture forth from Caer Wydion to do this for you, but to be with you. Talk later. Make love now. Trust me, you want to be here for this.”

  They drew back into their bodies, their movement together unbroken. As his manhood filled her, she wrapped her legs around him and tilted her head back, baring throat and breasts to his hungry gaze. His lips fell upon the rose-capped peak of her nipple, and she cried out as he thrust into her deep in the same movement. Then, with greater strength than he knew, Caleb lowered himself to his knees, his lips still against her breast, his tongue working at the tight bud of her teat. Then, between one thrust and the next, he moved to the other one, , and her moan became an atavistic growl of pure pleasure. She wrapped her hands around his neck and bent her face to him, the soft strands of his hair brushing her lips as she pulled him forward. Slowly, he leaned down, giving her what she wanted.

  You are all things beautiful to me, all things Man. In this moment, I want to see you Ascendant, in all Your Glory as the Rising Sun.

  He thrust into her and arched his back, rising up from her as their bodies found the moment of climax together, and he spilled into her. She felt the molten heat of him, not just within her belly, but radiating from him in his guise as the Sun God. The wor l d was bright and hot about them for an agonizingly beautiful moment , , then the power flew up from them, leaving two humans panting on the ground. A cool breeze blew over them like a gentle benediction. Tears flowed down both their cheeks, but they laughed, overwhelmed by emotion.

  “What just happened?” Caleb said once he could speak. Anne untangled her limbs from his and knelt beside him, bathed in the warmth and light of the fire.

  “We made love,” she said, “as the Sun God and the Goddess. Only I think...a trickster god showed up, too. Caer Wydion is there,” she pointed to the Milky Way. “It’s the home of Gwydion fab Don. But still, we...were God and Goddess for a while.”

  “We made love,” Caleb said. “I’ve never...it was never like that for me before.”

  “I’m fair certain it was never like that for anyone before,” Anne laughed. She reached for the great cloak that she had set near the bonfire and spread it out on the ground. “Come here,” she said as she crawled onto it. “Let us be just man and woman now.” Without a word, Caleb joined her on the cloak.

  Chapter 10

  The sun stole over the clearing to find the two lovers entangled once again, though this time, in the disarray of slumber. Anne blinked and looked at Caleb’s face, then smiled. He wasn’t the most handsome of men, but he was pleasant enough to
look at. Her fingers traced the thick red welts that ran across his chest and shuddered at the thought of what must have made them.

  “Caleb,” she said softly. “Time to wake up.”

  His eyes opened and he turned himself so that he was half over her while he looked about. “We slept through the whole night up here,” he said,

  “You sound worried.”

  “People will talk, especially if they see us coming back together.”

  “I doubt anyone will be at my baille this time of morning. They would have to have ridden all night to get here. Though,” she said, stopping to look at a broken rail in part of her fence, “it looks as if someone has been through recently.”

  “That was me,” Caleb said, his cheeks a little brighter red than the dawn light could make them alone. Anne gave him a look, and he shrugged. “I was carrying a god around, and I was in a hurry.”

  Anne laughed. “Well, I see you’ve gotten your full strength back, then. I may put you to work today.”

  “You didn’t know that already?” Caleb asked. She blushed and smiled, then turned and led the way to the house.

  “As you say, there was a god involved. I couldn’t be sure how much was the god, and how much the man. Now, if you’ll see to the fire I’ll see to my chickens and we can have breakfast.”

  Less than an hour later, breakfast was cooking, and the day’s tasks were laid out, and soon, they set to work. By midafternoon, Caleb had finished most of the cho res se on his list, with the repair of the busted fence rail the last. He wrestled the new rail into place, then straightened and wiped his forehead with the tail end of his long bandana. The valley stretched out before him in all its beauty, and beyond the mouth, he could see the creek. But the things he couldn’t see, those weighed on him. The town, and the troubles it carried for him. The Church, and his own past. As beautiful as this place was, as wonderful and pastoral a life as it promised, none of it was immune to the specters of his past. He picked up the tool kit and started back toward the shed attached to the side of the house. Anne was waiting on the porch, a cup in one hand and a pitcher with another cup at her feet.

  “Have some,” she said, nodding at the pitcher. Caleb poured some of the contents into the cup, and was rewarded with a sharp, pleasant smell. “Mint tea,” Anne said by way of explanation.

  “Thank you,” he said, after he had taken a sip. “I got the rail fixed up, and I also tightened up the hinge on the door to the chicken coop, so it won’t rattle so bad.”

  “I was wondering about that, Thank you.” For a moment, a companionable silence fell between them. “I take it you’ll be moving on then, come morning.”

  “Anne, I can’t stay.”

  “I wasn’t expecting you to, though the company has been more than pleasant,” Anne said as she shook her head. “But I can see it in your eyes. Besides, a man who would be staying would be asking questions about the place, and how I do every little thing. I’m rather glad not to have to deal with that.” She turned and headed inside. “There’s ham and beans ready if you’re hungry.”

  The next morning found Caleb getting up with the sun. As early as he’d tried to rise, he found the big bed empty, and Anne already busy about the cabin. A cloth wrapped bundle lay beside a thick leather bound book on the table. He dressed quickly, for the aroma of bacon filled the room soon after he stirred from the blankets.

  Once the last sips of coffee had been drained, he stood and buckled his gun belt on. It was then that the first words of the morning broke the silence.

  “That yard of steel on your hip,” Anne said softly. “Use it much?”

  “My Bowie knife? All the time,” he told her while he tied the sheathe to his leg.

  She held out a hand. “Do you mind?” He drew the blade and handed it to her handle first. She gave it a critical look, testing its edge with first t her thumb, then passing it along her forearm and seeing how it shaved the hairs off there. Satisfied with the blade’s quality, she went to the fireplace and took a pinch of some herb from a small bowl on the mantle and tossed the dried leaves into the flames before passing the blade through the aromatic smoke that rose from the embers. Then she poured some water in a cup, threw in a dash or two of salt and dipped her finger in the mix.

  “Hecate and Diana, bless this blade to sacred work, and guide the hand of he who carries it,” she said as she held the blade with the handle up and drew three quick symbols on it. “Bless this, the boline of Caleb Archer, your sacred son.” She held the blade out handle first, the metal still glistening with the salted water from her fingertip. Caleb reached for the blade, and when his hand touched the handle, the three runes she’d drawn glowed a pale blue, then faded into the metal. The two exchanged a wide-eyed look.

  “What just happened?” Caleb asked.

  “Magic,” Anne whispered. “It’s a pity you have to go. We seem to make some powerful magic together.”

  “Even so, it’s better that I do,” he said, sliding the Bowie home. “It wouldn’t be long before things went...bad.”

  “I understand. There’s food for the walk there on the table, and...my Jonathan’s research on the Verge. I think he would have liked you. And I know he would be pleased to know someone else was reading his work.”

  “Annie, are you sure?” Caleb asked. “This must have a lot of sentimental value to you.”

  “No, it was always his wish that I give it to someone who might be able to use what he’d learned. I dreamt of that book last night and the night before, in the Grove. I know a sign from the gods when I see one. There’s a spare haversack hanging by the door.”

  “Thank you, Annie,” he said as he packed the food and the book into the bag.

  She followed him out to the porch and kissed him, her lips soft and warm against his in the cool air. “Only one man ever called me Annie,” she said. “It’s good to hear you say my name so, even in parting. I’ll not ask for any promise from you, save that I do not fade from your memory, and that you think well of me.”

  “I’ll ask the same of you, and I won’t make any promise I can’t keep. But, if I can, I’ll keep in touch, and, perhaps one day, I might come back.”

  “That...would be nice. Fare you well, Caleb.”

  “Goodbye, Annie.” He smiled and turned to the trail that led out of the little valley. She stayed and watched him go, the sun seeming a little brighter and the edges of old heartaches a little softer and further away. When he got to the last turn before he would lose sight of the cabin, he turned and lifted an arm to wave. She smiled and and raised her hand in return, and imagined she could see him smile at the last sight of her. When she lowered her arm, her hand went to her stomach, and she looked down, noting how she cupped her belly.

  “Oh, Mother Goddess,” she whispered. Persephone jumped up on the the railing beside her and meowed loudly. “And should I take it as a sign that you’re staying around as well, Miss Persephone?” she asked as she stroked the little tabby. The cat meowed again, then began to clean herself, apparently intent on nothing more than being enigmatic.

  It was a ways past noon when Caleb walked into Mendoza Springs again. His haversack was lighter the pasties Anne had packed, and his canteen nearly empty. The street still buzzed with folks going about their business, but now, eddies of stillness formed where Caleb passed, whirlpools of whispered conversation swirled in his wake, and the current of the traffic slowed around him. When he stepped off the street and into the sheriff’s office, things picked up again, but the gossip flowed, reaching ears faster than lightning.

  Sheriff Broward was already frowning when Caleb stepped into the office, and his appearance did little to dissipate the expression. “Well, if it ain’t my favorite nuisance,” Broward said. “Don’t that just top the day off.”

  “Don’t mean to make a rough patch any harder, sheriff,” Caleb said. “And I don’t mean to stick around. I just need to pay for the keep on my horse, make sure everything is done up for the moment at the parsonage, and see
to a favor I was going to do for Ezekiel.”

  “Funny you should mention the dearly departed reverend. If you don’t mind waiting a minute, though, I have some business that needs tending to. Robbie, have you seen that damn Joe?”

  “Last I heard, he was passed out up at the parsonage again,” Robbie said from the desk on the other side of the room.

  “Well, damn it, go up there and roust him out , . If he’s drunk, lock his ass up until he sobers up.” Browder turned to Caleb. “Couple of days ago, Joe went and helped hisself to the holy liquor cabinet. First it was the communion wine, but I’m betting he’s figured out where Zeke kept his whiskey by now. Upshot of all that is there ain’t nobody willing to take his place and go get me some grub from the saloon. I been havin’ to walk down there of a night to get my supper. Come on down with me.” The sheriff stood up and pulled a couple of envelopes out of his desk drawer, then headed out the door. The walk to The Gantry passed in silence, and again people stopped, stared and gossiped. Conversation stopped the moment they stepped through the door, then picked up again in a buzz of whispers.

  “Smitty, two bowls of chili and some frijoles refrito,” Broward called out. “And a couple of bottles of beer.” Smitty came out a few seconds later with two brown bottles in hand. Seeing Caleb, his handlebar moustache quivered, and he only set one of the bottles down.

  “Sheriff, I won’t serve this man,” Smitty said. “You know as well as I do he should be in jail.”