saint Sebastian the Rose

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saint Sebastian the Rose Page 36

by Glover, Michael W.


  “Where are you going?” Sebastian asked. The Companion turned and stopped briefly.

  “It is not my wish to burn this morning. I must find my safe place, as do you.” He regarded Sebastian momentarily, wondering if he would ever see him again. Temptation came over him to do whatever it took to save Sebastian but he knew it was not up to him to save him; that was Sebastian’s choice. He turned his back to him and walked into the dark woods and was gone.

  Sebastian felt that his whole life people were abandoning him, but he knew that wasn’t true. He had people over his lifetime that had always been there; that was why he was still alive. There had just been moments when he thought there was no one with him; in those darkest moments everything is amplified. Father Matthew was one of those who had always been there for him, truly one of his closest friends, and he was sure his Companion was right—he would not want Sebastian to die.

  Sebastian struggled with everything in his head and his heart. How could he take from an unconscious friend without his consent? How much guilt would he place on his friend who if he was conscious would gladly give him what he needed, or when he woke to find Sebastian dead, the burden of being so close but not being able to help? The moral dilemmas played on his overburdened mind.

  Even with his senses dulled beyond reason, he knew he had only experienced this once before on a night very similar to this. He knew the reality of what he felt in his bones. The sun was coming soon, and the time to make his decision was upon him.

  Lying next to his friend he threw his arm over his body and came to rest next to him. Yes, he was alive. He could sense the heart beat slowly, and the blood pulse through his veins. He could also feel the warmth that comes from the body and he longed to be warm again. Gradually, it occurred to him that he would only have to take so much to have the strength to make the journey back to the castle with his friend, whom he would not leave out here.

  Pulling himself over to Father Matthew he thanked his friend and laid over him and gently took the life-giving blood his body was aching for. Slowly he drew over and over, losing himself like before. This time, though, the experience was very different; instead of being in a daze of apathetic happiness, this was more powerful. It was like a rush of adrenaline that so overpowers the system you never want the euphoria to cease, like skydiving where the freefall never ends, and you have never felt more alive. There was something nagging in Sebastian’s brain as he relished the feelings of it all—he would have to stop, or his friend would die. He felt the pull of the life that was in the blood and knew it was time.

  Sitting up with renewed strength, his senses all came back on line as he took in all around him. He looked back down at his friend who had briefly opened his eyes after the release and for one moment his friend recognized him; then they closed again. Sebastian waited for a second, hoping those eyes would open again, but they remained shut. He felt that heart slow, and the weight of the world came crashing down upon him. He shook Father Matthew over and over, but he remained unresponsive. Sebastian held him close and whispered over and over to the night not to take him. Holding him against his body he could feel the faint heartbeat in his chest.

  The time for worry was growing for both of them, as he knew the time was coming. If he was going to save both of them he had to get on the move. Picking up the limp body and cradling it in his arms, he stood up and turned back to the spot where he had not long ago attempted to enter the woods that led back. The memory still fresh in his mind, he took one cautious step and then barreled in, not wanting fear to stand in his way. The path was not anything he was paying attention to on this trip, his mind was going on a journey of its own. He was reliving the many moments he had shared with Father Matthew and only wished he could move faster.

  They made their way down the dirt path that after a while was in constant change; every footstep Sebastian took led to different scenery in front of him. He knew the sun was rising. Dawn is a strange event. Sebastian had studied it at length. He had tested it to his very limits on many occasions, and he knew exactly how much he could stand and when it would be too late. The filtering of light is an organic thing, not like when water seeps into cracks or fills holes when poured over a textured surface. Light seems to materialize as if it had just been created in the very spot it appears. The woods were a minor protection from the force, he knew, but that only lasts for seconds.

  They were close; he had moved as fast as he could, using up much of the vital energy he had received from his friend. The slope began to rise, and before he knew it he could see the dull exterior of a wall peeking between the trees in front of them. His hope sprang anew as he marched onward, finally arriving at the edge of the woods where he hesitated. The light was growing, and fear was welling up in him. There was a small distance between the edge of the woods to the moat and then inside.

  The time was now or never, and he stepped into the open, focusing only on the ground before him. Making his way into the clearing, he felt the warmth on his back and a tingling sensation similar to when your foot falls asleep. Sebastian felt the pain in him grow. At first it was a minor discomfort, but the feeling steadily increased. His pace was steady. As he covered the ground he saw the piles that had once been fires around the yard, and that’s when he felt slightly weary. He slowed as he moved forward and saw the moat that opened up like the Grand Canyon before him.

  Relief swept over him as he saw something he had not seen in many years: a ray of sunlight that hit the walls of the Lonely Tower. At the same time, he also spotted several people, the twins and big Father Dagrun beyond the moat. They too had spotted him and were held fast in disbelief. His excitement at seeing them was tempered by the sledge hammer hit that followed. The sun’s first rays peeking out over the trees now multiplied over and over and soon found their mark on his back, sending him and Father Matthew tumbling to the ground just at the edge of the moat. Sebastian looked over that edge to see several charred remains hanging in the air suspended from the great spears that emerged from the floor of the pit. He wondered if that is what he was about to look like.

  Sebastian lay there as little wisps of smoke began to emerge from his clothes. His skin felt like he was being attacked by an entire colony of fire ants swarming over him and delivering their stinging bites. He closed his eyes trying to shut out the pain, to find that other place we go when everything else is too much. Darkness soon covered him again and he felt his body being lifted. He opened his eyes and saw he was headed for the monastery; once again he was being carried into the place that would offer him some sanctuary and once again at the hands of a gentle monk.

  It seemed funny to him how life repeated itself over and over. Most people don’t notice but Sebastian had the advantage of living longer than most and had become very good at seeing them. He never really understood the significance, but he figured there had to be some. If only he would live long enough to work out that puzzle, but for right now he was enjoying the ride. Three times in his life had he been carried by others, saving him from an end that stalked him. He just wanted to sleep.

  chapter THIRTY-NINE

  THE MONASTERY WAS BUZZING with the news of the return of its most unique resident, and that was only matched by the unsurpassed joy at the return of one of its brothers who had been presumed dead. Even though the two were in poor condition, the very fact they survived was joy enough for the disheartened monks who longed for some good news.

  Father Donovan sent everyone else away after making sure Father Matthew was being looked after and Sebastian was secure within his chambers. Father Donovan sat in one of those comfortable chairs by himself knowing Sebastian was receiving some much-needed rest. They had taken him straight to his room and laid him down without as much as a word spoken between any of them. In time he knew Sebastian would emerge, hopefully well and with much to tell.

  Even at his request Father Donovan knew he would not be able to keep everyone away; this was marked by the knock at the door. Cracking it open he saw the
face of Jessica peering in and he motioned for her to enter. He did not get up; he was still feeling the effects of his own escapades. Jessica came in and sat in the opposite chair, smiling at him in thanks. She instantly looked to the other door.

  “He is safe now,” Father Donovan reassured her. Jessica smiled, hoping that fact could be true.

  “Can we be sure?”

  “No, we can never be completely sure, but I would venture a guess that for now we are safe.”

  Jessica sat back in her chair and tried to feel comforted by his words. All she could think about were the previous days and the tumult of events that had sent her world into chaos. After seeing Father Matthew returned to the monastery, she felt the lingering hope that somehow they would find her father; she was not ready to reconcile her feelings there.

  “Where is your brother? I figured he would have been coming with you to check up on our friend,” Father Donovan asked.

  “He is still standing over Father Lemoine and Father Matthew. He wants to help as much as he can.”

  “Yes, I think he has become close to Father Lemoine.”

  “How is he doing?” Jessica knew that the monk had suffered a terrible wound but was unclear as to his condition.

  “He is stable. Father Lemoine is one tough character,” Father Donovan said.

  “I don’t want them to come back,” Jessica said.

  Father Donovan knew she was talking about the intruders that had so thrown their lives upside down. He wished he could have given her the news she wanted to hear, but then again he never liked lying to people, especially when a lie would not help.

  “We may never know when they might come back, but it is almost certain they will. I do not think it will be this night; they have taken quite a beating, I believe.”

  “So have we.” Jessica was quick to remind the old monk that they had several people in precarious states of recovery.

  A knock at the door came again and right on cue Jacob’s head came around to find just whom he needed. He entered the room and located a comfortable spot just inside.

  “They need you upstairs,” Jacob spoke to Father Donovan. He did not like being a messenger like this, but someone was needed. Father Donovan and Jessica’s faces grew more concerned as they waited for more information.

  “Father Matthew.”

  The words had not even left his mouth, and the two were standing and making for the door. They made their way up the stairs silently but quickly, winding their way through the corridors till they reached the Grand Staircase Hall, currently the impromptu hospital. Not much time had passed from that morning, only a couple of hours that seemed like days. They made their way to Father Dagrun, who met them as they approached. He didn’t stop them; he just walked behind them as they came before Father Jacques and Father Andrew. Father Jacques caught the group, wanting to head them off.

  “He is not good,” he said simply, not wanting to alarm them.

  “What can we do?” Father Donovan asked.

  “If we move him too much he will die. It seems he has suffered major blood loss over a period of time. I am not sure what is going on with him. There is not much he is responding to. We have done everything I can think of.”

  Father Donovan took in the bad news with stoicism. He could only think of how Sebastian would take the news if the worst happened. His only thought at this time was to prepare Sebastian and help Father Matthew the only way he knew how.

  “Get him ready to move,” Father Donovan decided. Everyone around looked confused. Father Donovan saw their confusion but made no effort to explain. “Get him ready to move,” he repeated.

  The room seemed to finally come to terms with reality and the gloom of despair swept their hopes out the door. Monks went over to Father Matthew, hoisted up his body, and carried him. With a funeral-like procession they made their way down to Sebastian’s room.

  They laid Father Matthew’s body down on the couch. Everyone stood around him waiting for their brother to wake, to move, but nothing happened. Father Donovan motioned for everyone to leave; only the twins remained with him, comforted by the presence of Father Donovan but unclear as to their purpose. Father Donovan looked over the room and made his way over to the still prone body. He grasped Father Matthew’s hand and closed his eyes for moments. The twins, not knowing what to do, bowed their heads in respect, each offering up their own silent prayer, whatever they knew.

  With much effort, Father Donovan arose and made his way over to the magnificent door. The twins watched with much anticipation. The old monk looked at the scroll work and put his hand on the brass doorknob. He held the cold piece of metal for seconds and let go; his hand moved to the wood and he lightly rapped on the surface. The sounds made were only a soft muffled thump. He turned back to the twins with a look they had never seen before, one of uncertainty bordering on despair.

  He made his way over to the door leading out from this isolated room and walked out, leaving the door open. The twins felt the old man’s struggle and knew they had seen something many had not. They also knew they were not to stay for long; the door was open for a reason, telling them they had to leave. With one last look to the brother who had been lost and found, they knew he was still lost to them; his body had been found, but the man inside was a great distance from anyone. Bringing him here had purpose. Sebastian had always been made to feel closer to the whole in recent years because of Father Matthew. Now bringing Father Matthew here, maybe he would feel that closeness one last time. The twins exited the room, and Jessica pulled the door closed.

  chapter FORTY

  THE NIGHT ARRIVED like every night before, but their nights would never be the same again. The twins and everyone there made preparations, but the effort was half-hearted. Everyone understood if the vampires came again it would be over. There were too few of them, too many battered and wounded, and too many still grieving. Everyone was in the Grand Staircase Hall; the window had been boarded up to protect from the weather. The pretty days they had experienced had disappeared that afternoon as storm clouds blanketed the entire region.

  What was left around the center of the great window showed the rain that was falling outside blown by the strong gust of wind that shook the trees. Everyone joked that not even vampires would come out in weather like this. This attempt at humor made them feel more at ease and made the time pass by.

  Jacob sat near Father Lemoine with his sister at his side. The monk drifted in and out of consciousness; everyone there said a thousand prayers in that afternoon. They also took shifts sitting with him, holding his hand, knowing that with all the prayers in the world, that physical touch meant so much more to each of them personally and hopefully would keep their brother with them … or even bring him back.

  Jessica saw the weariness in her brother, and she felt it herself. Sleep had been too little and too far in between, and the rest of the time had been filled with things she could barely reflect on at the moment. This would take time, many days after to be able to see clearly. She stood up to stretch the weariness from her legs, circling the great hall, looking at each and every one who played a role in her new life … everybody but one.

  Her gaze moved to the one doorway she had always been most intrigued with, the little nondescript doorway that matched nothing else. Walking across the hall, she moved in its direction. She danced with those shadows that came in from the stormy outside, those ghosts that she and her brother had been dying to see. After completing the waltz, she found herself in front of that door. Jessica looked back to the room to see if she was being noticed but everyone was in their own thoughts, and so she slipped into the darkened doorway and felt the downward slope.

  Everyone in the room was in their own little world, making preparations, saying prayers, and asking for whatever forgiveness might be needed. Father Donovan had done all of these things himself, but he was also a shepherd with a flock, and a shepherd always had to be aware of any danger his flock might be in. He was especially aware of this
particular sheep, Jessica, and he knew exactly where she was going. This sheep he knew was in no real danger, so he let her go.

  The corridors were familiar by this time, almost like home, with rooms you don’t pay complete attention to anymore. Even in this place one could become dulled to surroundings that were seen over and over. Her fascination was not so much dulled as it was replaced by other concerns.

  She found the door easily, and really didn’t know what she was going to do once she got there. But that was silly; she knew exactly what she was there for. Curiosity is a powerful thing and if not held in check can be dangerous. She had already experienced this firsthand, thanks to her brother. He was a slave to his curiosity, she knew, and they shared the same blood. They shared the same womb for nine months, and since then they had shared almost identical lives as well. Yes, she was a slave to curiosity as well. Being a slave to curiosity doesn’t mean you deny the dangers of your actions; but once you understand who you are, however, the decisions make more sense somehow.

  Jessica looked down at the floor; the corridor had been very dark, but she had not been afraid at all … she was becoming accustomed to danger. She saw the faint flicker of light at her feet, light that she knew was from a fire that had long been out and was now relit. She knew she probably shouldn’t be here. If Sebastian wanted to come out he would have done that already. Everyone needs time alone to grieve, and when one of your best friends dies, you need an eternity.

  The thought of Sebastian being alone at such a time was the encouragement she needed. Jessica grabbed the doorknob and turned it. She pushed the door open and stepped into the room. She looked around and saw all of the familiar things in their places—the fireplace and the comfortable chairs, the desk with all of the books strewn about and there was the couch—but no Father Matthew and no Sebastian. She looked back and forth but no one occupied the room.

 

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