* * *
"Who is Sammael?" Thane asked. He couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. He could tell that Basia and Father Lucas both knew who this viceroy was, but he had never heard the name before and he had the distinct feeling that he was the only one missing something. "I mean who is he really? I'm sorry to interrupt again, but I feel like I should know this angel if he is a seraphim like Mikhael and the others-all of which I was familiar with. Why don't I know Sammael?"
"You know him Thane," Armaros countered. "Permit me to tell just a bit more of my story, and I promise things will become clearer for you . . . especially where Sammael is concerned."
"Sorry. I try to stay composed and take all this in stride. I really do. It's just that . . . well, I know what I'm hearing is special stuff. Privileged stuff. A story unlike any other ever told, and I don't want to be overwhelmed by it all. I want to stay on top of every detail. So when I feel like everyone else knows something that I don't, I feel like I need to speak up. I don't want you to take for granted that I know something that I really don't. Do you understand what I mean?"
Armaros leaned forward in the big chair, his elbows resting on his knees. "Do not be sorry. I have always regarded questions as a measure of seeking wisdom Thane, and I want you to ask as many as you feel are necessary. The story that I tell is for your benefit. It is imperative that you understand it. Father Lucas and Basia are here as our guests. I do not know what they know of me and the events I speak of. Much like you, I suspect that they know much. But that doesn't mean that I will not have them leave if it would make you more comfortable."
Thane involuntarily looked towards Father Lucas and Basia. They were both nodding in agreement with Armaros. He was a bit alarmed. He didn't want them to go, especially not Basia he admitted to himself. "No, no," he said quickly. "That's not what I want at all. I'm glad you're here. Really. I just may need a little of your patience from time to time."
"And you shall have it Thane. Always," Basia noted. Thane could hear genuine concern and care in the girl's voice. He believed what she said, even though he had only known her for a short while. He realized he was staring and forced himself to look away.
"Thank you," he said.
"Does anyone want a beer?" Father Lucas asked.
Thane got the feeling that the priest was trying to lighten the mood.
"It looks like our gracious host partakes occasionally. Wouldn't you say?" the priest continued. Thane looked at all the beer cans and thought of his pathetic brother.
"Where's Cane?" he asked. He knew the answer to his question almost before he finished asking it. Father Lucas and Basia looked away from him very casually when he mentioned his brother's name. That confirmed what he already suspected. Cane was dead.
A part of him knew all along. His brother rarely left the trailer for any length of time, and Thane was sure he had been here for several hours. And if he did leave, Thane knew he would have taken his smokes and his keys with him, but there they sat, right next to Thane on the little end table. He wasn't sure how he felt just yet, but he needed to know more. He at least owed Cane that much.
"What happened?" he asked as he looked towards Armaros. He figured the big angel was most likely to give him an answer.
"He was dead when I got here Thane," Armaros answered. "I was too weak to protect him. The same evil that ravaged me destroyed him, and I could not stop it from happening."
"Was it more of those things? Like in the hospital."
"Not exactly. It was a ghoul, one of the undead-a rotting husk summoned from the grave and animated with a soul of the lost."
"Summoned by whom?"
"The same dark force that we spoke of earlier."
"Where is he?"
"Who?"
"Cane."
"I had to destroy his body," Armaros admitted painfully. "I'm sorry Thane, but if given the chance those who oppose us would have used your brother's corpse against you in some unspeakable way. I'm certain of it. I couldn't let that happen."
"What did you do?" Thane asked, more curious than mournful.
"I burnt him where he lay," Armaros answered, "with a conjured fire as hot as a star. There is nothing left, not even ash. Where the spirit has gone I have no idea."
"I could make a guess," Father Lucas interjected. "Forgive me for saying so, but you both know that Cane was a son-of-a-bitch. He and Thane could not be more dissimilar."
"Good God priest," Armaros announced with genuine surprise in his voice. "Cane was still his brother despite his shortcomings. He wasn't always as bad as he was near the end of his short life. And another thing priest, you're drinking alcohol and cursing. A cigarette next perhaps? Are you a clergyman or a soldier?"
Father Lucas, who now stood behind the bar in the kitchen after exploring the trailer's quietly humming refrigerator, stopped short in the middle of taking his latest swallow of beer. "I don't know the answer to that question anymore," he answered with a chuckle. "A little of both I think. But I do know all things in moderation." He raised his can in a mock toast. "You're right though. Perhaps I was a bit insensitive."
"It's all right," Thane said. "I know Cane was far from perfect. We had pretty much quit talking to each other altogether this past year or so. I resented him so much for the way he led his life, but he didn't deserve to go out like that. I mean . . . a ghoul killed my brother. It's like a bad Halloween story."
Thane looked at the floor and shook his head. He was starting to feel a little guilty for not being more upset about Cane's death.
Why can't I feel anything? He was my brother. Basia must think I'm a heartless bastard. I'm not . . . I just . . . I got nothing. Maybe I'll get sad later.
He considered trying to force out a couple of tears for show, but he had never been much of an actor. Furthermore, he rarely cried when he really was upset. It wasn't healthy to live like that, stoic and impassive, but it wasn't something that he could control. Thane had always been aloof, even as a child he shrugged off most things that didn't go his way. Since his parents death; however, he had become almost unfeeling when it came to matters of the heart.
At least he was smart enough to realize it wasn't something to be proud of. Although from time to time it helped in his line of work, for the most part Thane didn't like feeling detached. Especially now. Cane was dead, and he couldn't muster one tear for his big brother.
"I am sorry about your brother Thane," Basia stated. Her voice shook the young deputy out of his stupor. He glanced up and met her gaze. There was genuine care in her manner that made Thane comfortable. Basia would take care of him no matter what, even though he barely knew anything about her at all.
I met her less than an hour ago, yet I would weep if something bad happened to her. How is that?
"Thank you," he replied. He didn't dare say more. He was being pulled in so many directions-questions for Armaros regarding his account, questions for Father Mundy about who he really was, a growing interest in Basia, and now the death of his brother Cane-that he feared if he began to speak he would ramble on and embarrass himself. Instead, he reminded himself to be patient and listen. He knew that what Armaros was telling him was all that he should be presently concerned with, and he decided to make it so by focusing on the big angel's story with the same type of concentration he used for work assignments. It was a way that Thane could center himself, and force everything else to become secondary. Clarity is what he needed right now more than anything.
Father Lucas returned to his seat on the couch next to Basia. Both were looking at Armaros. Thane, newly focused and seemingly relaxed, was also watching the Watcher. Armaros smiled.
"As I was saying . . . Mikhael's head was but a moment from being cleaved in half . . ."
The Peacock Angel: Rise of the Decarchs Page 36