Guardian's Faith

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  The headless demon had fallen to the floor and here again, something was very wrong. Its blackened blood oozed out onto the floor and stayed there. The body remained intact and didn't turn to the gray dust that normally accompanied the death of a demon.

  Lucien spun back to Lalo who had followed his Liege Lord's command and taken the creature's heart. The trainee stood there, holding it out like a blackened offering. No burst of light accompanied it and therefore no exultant reward for a job well done for the Guardian trainee.

  "What did I do wrong?" Lalo asked, looking forlornly at the heart he held in his hand as if it was a sign of his unfitness for his calling.

  His warrior's Rage had abandoned him and he was left feeling lost and even more unsure of himself. He hated killing things, always had. Even the butchering of farm animals raised for the purpose bothered him, yet he'd followed his Liege Lord's orders, however reluctantly and waited for the powerful sense of strength and elation that Adam assured him would follow. Nothing happened.

  "It's not you, son," Lucien told him, his own Rage dissipating. "Something is wrong here, but it isn't us."

  As if his words had voiced their silent fears, the room suddenly burst into angry chatter and argument.

  There was a scuffle under a nearby table and both Liege Lord and trainee turned, instantly on guard. A golden head of curls popped out from beneath the table and a sturdy brown hand pulled it back.

  "Agdta, let me go. I'm all right and people need me."

  "No. You stay here with me until the Patron says it's okay."

  The head popped out again and again was dragged back this time followed by an "Ooomph" as the housekeeper threw her body across Faith's and pinned the smaller woman to the ground. Refusing to cooperate, Faith forced her back up, rising on hands and knees.

  In spite of the carnage around him, Lucien almost laughed at the sight of the tiny slip of a girl crawling with the dark green turtle shell of Agdta clinging to her back.

  "Let her go, Agdta. You're in more danger from each other than from anything out here."

  Lucien helped the older woman rise before reaching for Faith who held out her hand for assistance. When he grasped the hand, ready to make a comment about choosing one's battle, it was ice cold. The girl swayed and staggered and reached out her other hand for balance and when she raised her face to his, all amusement died.

  The freckles he'd found so enticing only minutes before, now stood out in sharp relief against the paleness of her skin. Dark circles ringed her feverish eyes. She was sick again and he was suddenly angry with her for allowing her health to be put at risk.

  "What have you done to yourself?" he began, but her eyes had left his and looked past him to the others in the room.

  She shook herself free and stumbled forward. "They need me."

  "No. I will not allow you to put what's mine in danger." Lucien grabbed for her hand and then pulled away when he saw the look of shock on her face. He'd done the last thing he wanted to do. He'd frightened her. More amazingly, he realized in that moment that he was frightened, too. It had been many years since he'd felt that emotion, so many that he barely recognized it.

  He abruptly nodded his head and took a step back. As much as he wanted to scoop her up and carry her away from the carnage, he bowed to her wishes.

  Faith wasn't frightened by Lucien's angry attempt to detain her, but by what he'd said. How many times had she heard the other women of Canaan's House laugh about their mates' Neanderthal way of declaring their love? Someone behind her groaned with pain and she closed her eyes to center herself and put aside her fears. This too, she would worry about tomorrow. For now, she turned to him and signed.

  "You risk yourself every day," she told him, fingers flying, and hoped he misread the trembling of her hands, "because that's what you were meant to do. This is what I'm meant to do. I'm not as good at my calling as you are at yours. I'm still a trainee." She smiled weakly. "I still need help. Treat me like you do the other trainees. Don't stop me, Lucien, help me."

  She moved to the first of the injured men, but he waved her away and pointed to a woman bending over a gray coated dog that looked very much like a coyote. The woman was crying and attempting to staunch the flow of blood from the jagged wounds that scored the animal's side.

  "Help him. Oh please, please, help my Carlos. Don't let him die."

  Faith looked from one to another of the half dozen wounded and they all did the same thing as the first. They waved her off and pointed to the dog. She looked up at Lucien.

  "I don't know if it will work on an animal," she confessed bleakly.

  "I'm pretty sure it'll work on this one," he said, leading her over to where the woman knelt, "but you'd better be careful. Don't think I'll let you sacrifice your life for his or for anyone else in this room. You're mine and under my care, little hummingbird, and I intend to keep you safe."

  *****

  "I trust the plan went well?"

  "It did, el Brujo, if you think of losing five men as going well."

  He liked that name, el Brujo; not any old witch, but The Witch. It had been his title for so many years, he might as well take it as his name. He smiled at the messenger.

  "Ah, yes, well, one can't live forever, can one?" the Brujo pointed out, though he'd thought about the possibilities. Look how well he'd managed so far. He raised his hooded head just enough to let the man know he was being stared at.

  The messenger got the message, but he felt guilty enough about the loss to make one last comment. "Two of them had families."

  "Of course they did," the robed man sighed. These humans bred like rabbits. "Will none of their family and neighbors step forward? Certainly they've been charitable in the past."

  "They have, Señor, but this time is different."

  "For the dead men, yes, but their wives and children? They can hardly be held responsible for what their husbands and fathers did."

  "The people are nervous, Señor …

  "El Brujo," the robed man corrected, "From now on you will use that as my title and my name." He waved his gloved hand. "I know, I know, it's grammatically incorrect, but I like it and therefore…" He turned his back on the messenger and began realigning the pen, pencil and letter opener on the immaculate desk. Each piece was exactly one inch apart and one inch above the edge of the blotter. "We want them to be afraid, Hoot. Fear is a powerful weapon. The families will be cared for through a generous and heartfelt donation from el Brujo. Never let it be said that I don't take care of my people."

  Hoot hesitated, "Are you sure that now is the time to come forward?

  El Brujo's hand paused above the hexagonal shaped ink bottle. "I have been around for a very long time, Hoot. In that time, I have become a very good judge of how people will or will not react. Tomorrow I want the rumors started and I want twelve of our most trusted brethren to meet in the outer chamber Saturday at noon when there's no risk of anyone from the Hacienda about to take notice." He turned the bottle until one of the points was directly above the tip of the letter opener, one inch above to be exact.

  Hoot was almost to the entrance when el Brujo called to him, but did not look up. "Oh, and Hoot?"

  "Yes, Señ… el Brujo?"

  El Brujo smiled at the use of the name. "If you value your fingers, Hoot, the next time you are here alone do not let them touch my desk."

  He could almost feel the tension in the poor man and that made his smile widen. El Brujo knew everything.

  Chapter 18

  Faith sat in the bright light of the courtyard in a patio chair, one of a set Vasco brought from the village. It was a comfortable chair with wide arms and the back slightly reclined to catch the full effect of the warmth of the sun. Her skirt was hiked up to her upper thighs and she'd loosened the ribbon that held the neck of her blouse closed until her shoulders were exposed.

  She loved the courtyard and now understood why her sister and the others planned their occasional outings during the day while their men wer
e confined indoors. Daylight was an anathema to the Paenitentia, but she was human. Like the flowers that now grew in profusion in the stone planters and hand woven baskets surrounding her, she needed the sun and its light.

  For two long years she was denied its warmth and then in her self-imposed exile, she'd spent another year without it. She'd somehow thought that denying herself the simple pleasures of good food and sun would atone for her sins. All it did was make her weaker and more dependent on the kindness of others. She was stronger now and it was time she learned to take care of herself.

  She pulled the portable desk onto her lap and carefully began to compose a long overdue letter to her sister, telling her the truth, but not the whole of it. She'd written once before, but it was nothing more than a note saying everything was fine, don't worry, see you soon. It was all she could manage in those first days after the battle at the cantina.

  She needed time to recover and time to think through what she would write. She didn't want her sister or the others to think she needed rescuing again.

  Dear Hope,

  I should have written to you sooner, but I have been very busy here. This place, called the Hacienda, is not only a House of Guardians, but a working ranch as well and many of the local people rely on it for their livelihood. The housekeeper, Agdta, a wonderful woman, has taken me under her wing and calls me her hija which means daughter.

  Lalo and Adam seem happy and are fitting in nicely. They have been invited to several parties and seem eager to meet young women more their own age. Their training is going well and Lord Lucien seems pleased. Like me, they're learning new and interesting things every day.

  After the battle and at his Liege Lord's order, Lalo went outside to find Adam and Álvaro. Still shaken by what he'd seen and done, he wanted Álvaro's stoic assurance that all was as it should be. He wanted Adam to roll his eyes while promising to explain it all later. He gladly went out on the porch and opened his mouth to call out Lord Lucien's instructions.

  "Holy shit! What the fuck is that?" was what came out instead.

  Adam, in full battle Rage, was circling like a wrestler in the ring, bouncing on the balls of his feet with his arms held wide ready to take his opponent down to the mats.

  "It's a fucking bear. What the hell doths it look like?" Unlike the more experienced Guardians who could speak clearly around their fully extended fangs, Adam needed more practice and spoke with a slurping lisp.

  "I can see that," Lalo said, his head bobbing and weaving along with bear's, "but it sure as hell doesn't look like the bears back home. It looks like one of those Kodiaks from Alaska that you see on TV. What the hell's it doing here?"

  "How the fuck should I know? Why don't you buy it a beer and ask?"

  The bear was at least twelve feet tall and towered over Adam who wasn't small to begin with and had grown in stature and weight as the Rage took him. It looked well fed and had to weigh in at over a thousand pounds, the entire payload for your average pickup truck.

  The bear made a loud honking sound that sounded more frustrated than angry and it didn't act like an angry bear should.

  "Is it one of those demon things? Do you want some help?" Lalo asked, watching the bear carefully.

  "It's no demon or whatever the fuck those things are and I got it handled," Adam said, keeping his head well away from the slavering jaws and the swing of its powerful forepaws. He had the knife Lucien threw to him, but it didn't feel very comforting in the face of the bear's claws. "Álvaro chased one of those things around the side of the building. I heard a horse scream, Álvaro shout and then the demon thing came running out. Hey!" he changed the subject, "Did you know those fuckers have human hearts? Nasty assed thing all black and smelly."

  "Yeah, I took one. It felt really shitty," Lalo admitted. He felt a lot better knowing Adam felt the same. "So what happened after the thing came running?"

  "This thing came after it. You wouldn't believe how fast it can move. One swipe of the paw and there goes the fucker's head. Poor Álvaro must have got his when they ran into it."

  The bear bellowed again in anger and frustration.

  "Um, Adam? I think that bear is Álvaro."

  Adam lost his concentration for only a second, but it was enough for the bear to backhand him in the chest and send him flying through the air to land on his ass in the dirt.

  "Yep," Lalo laughed, "I'm pretty sure that's Álvaro."

  Vasco is a randy, but harmless old man who calls me his angel and tries to kiss me whenever he can. No matter how many times I slap his hand away and lecture him about proper behavior, he still pats my bottom regularly to see, he says, if my fruit is ripe. The others think this is funny and it has become a game to watch him try to pat and me try to avoid it. I have become as agile as the cat in scooting out of his way.

  Faith, up on a stepladder watering her new hanging baskets of flowers, heard someone enter the courtyard behind her and expected a normal greeting. What she wasn't expecting was Vasco's soft tap, tap on her bottom. She turned, eyes flashing, with a finger of warning held high in the air.

  The old man laughed at her gesture. "Just checking to see if my angel was ripe for the picking." He kissed his fingertips. "Almost."

  Hanging the bucket she used for watering on her arm, she climbed down from the ladder and signed.

  "I'm not a piece of fruit," she told him and tried desperately to hold on to her frown.

  Agdta claimed Vasco was a fierce fighter in his day, but it was hard to see it in such a funny old man who seemed to find pleasure and laughter in the everyday things his life had to offer and used his age to get away with things that would cause offense from a much younger man. His eyes sparkled with mischief.

  "Ah, my little angel, of course you're a piece of fruit; the sweetest fruit God ever created. Look how you've blossomed and grown." His gnarled hands outlined the shapely figure of a woman. "Soon, the young men will be lining up with the hope of tasting your sweetness."

  "You, old man, are a fool," she laughed. "I've seen the girls in the village and all are much curvier and prettier than me. I see the way they swing their hips and I see the way the young men watch them. No one is looking at me."

  "Then I am not the only fool in this courtyard," he grinned. "One man has been watching you for weeks. I only hope he is not a fool, too, but if that's the case, then I'll marry you myself. There will be dancing in the streets at our wedding." He puffed out his chest with pride. "With such a pretty bride by my side, I will be the envy of every man there."

  Faith's hand went to the white scars along her cheek, more distinct now than ever since her face was tanned.

  "I'm afraid we've both missed our chance, Vasco. You're too old and I'm no longer pretty."

  Vasco frowned and thought for a moment about how to answer that. "This," he finally said as he reached around her and patted her buttocks again, "may be what attracts a man's attention, but her beauty…" he tapped her chest over her heart, "is what he finds in here."

  Seeing the look that clouded his old eyes, Faith reached for the old man's hand. "Was Consolata beautiful?" she asked.

  Vasco nodded slowly. "The most beautiful woman God ever put on earth," he said and suddenly his mischievous grin was back and he winked. "Until you," he said and stole another kiss.

  Which brings me to the cat; are you missing one? I think she snuck into the van before I left. With the exception of one, she has become the darling of the House and Agdta saves the best tidbits and cream for her. Lalo and Adam christened her 'Dito' which is short for Maldito Gato - Damned Cat, which is what Álvaro (the exception) calls her. They seem to be at war. When he can catch her, he carries her out to the barn where he says she belongs, but she always manages to find a way to get back inside to leave a dead mouse in his bed.

  The cook deftly dealt the dozen hamburgers she'd fried in her pan to the waiting platter of buns.

  "Do not touch," she ordered with a finger of warning raised to the two young men who were eager to g
et at this taste of home. She hustled into the pantry and came out holding a three-pack of condiments; ketchup, mustard and relish. "Faith says you should have these to go with them."

  "Which one do we kiss first?" Adam asked his friend.

  "The one that's closest," Lalo laughed. "Before or after the burgers?"

  "After!" they shouted together and reached for their prize.

  The two hadn't had a burger or pizza since their arrival and both were showing signs of withdrawal, constantly prowling about the kitchen but finding nothing to fill the need. Faith had explained it to Agdta who was more than happy to become their supplier.

  Groans of ecstasy followed their first bites.

  "Oh, God, these are good."

  "Anything you want from us, Agdta, name it and it's yours."

  "Stay out of my refrigerator. That's what I want," she answered readily, "That ham you ate in the middle of the day was for breakfast."

  Faith slipped her hand beneath Lalo's as he reached for another and snagged one for herself. She was getting as bad as the boys. If she didn't stop eating soon, she'd be as round as the cook.

  Something had healed inside her after healing Goyo and the feeling of well-being grew each time she used her gift. It was like a reward for the pain she suffered during the process. She was hungry all the time. She ate whatever Agdta put in front of her upon waking and drank her milk without complaint. She ate a full breakfast with the others at seven and was ready for lunch at one. By four or five, she was hungry again and prowling the kitchen with the boys, unable to wait until dinner at eight.