Courted Sanctuary

Chapter 18

  Justin tied the horses while Luitgard gathered nearby branches and twigs for their fire. Yet another night of camping in the open awaited them. They had hoped to reach another town, if not at least a house at which they could pay for lodgings. The clouds did not give them confidence of an easy night ahead. They did their best to choose a spot sheltered by a grouping of trees but as the elevation grew, the options diminished. They were not as sheltered either from the elements or the site of any potential attackers as they would have liked.

  Justin was particularly agitated. Their luck had held with the exception of their encounter with Merek but he was sure that it would not last. Both of them were sleep deprived from remaining on such continuous alert. The physical trials and the risks told her to go back. Her worry for Dragonfather kept her from doing so.

  Even her dreams refused to settle the matter for her. Her strange nightmares continued and pulled her in as many directions as her waking life. Whatever she decided, Justin was determined to stay with her. He had nothing left from his old life but questions. He hoped to stay with the Mintharchs when their journey was over. He was still refusing to accept they were dead.

  Luitgard knew they were the last of her kind. Justin was one of her people too. They still did not know exactly how their families were connected, just that they had both likely come from the Kilchain line. Luitgard hoped those answers would be found with Dragonfather in Rome. Justin was not convinced but he did not moan about it. Even now that they were friends, he tended to revert to silence in times of disagreement.

  With Sieglinde, such behaviour would have driven Luitgard into a rage, ranting and raving. With Justin, she did not have the heart to yell at him. She would simply stop and become quiet herself. When they would next speak, it would be as if no disagreement had ever happened.

  Just such a silence had occurred near the end of that day's ride. Luitgard was not even sure what they had disagreed about but as she had spoken of her work teaching Goddess Maids, he had fallen silent. When she had realized this, she too ceased talking. They rode the last hour without conversation but when he had suggested they stop, there was no animosity in his tone.

  They worked together to arrange the firewood properly so that Justin could light it. Within moments the fire was gingerly eating away at the wood.

  "Do you still believe in the existence of your goddess now?" Justin asked as he sat back from the now strong flames.

  This was not a question Luitgard had expected. Justin had not spoken of religion since he had burned his robes.

  "Yes," she said. "I am not sure how else my people remained safe and unnoticed for so long." She paused and bit her lip. Her fingers twisted around each other in her lap. Even to herself, her words sounded like the most pathetic lie she had ever heard. Sieglinde's rebellious Goddess Maids could lie better. "I do not know," she whispered. "If she does, she has not bothered to help those who worship her."

  Justin nodded. "As with my god," he said. "We seem to be the forsaken children. I am beginning to think the only people we can count on is each other. If God will not smite those like Merek, then how can I have any faith in him?"

  "Now, now." The familiar voice caused them both to jump. Merek walked out from around the horses.

  "I am quite sure God does not think as lowly of me as you do, Justin," he said.

  Justin jumped to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

  Merek shrugged as he walked over to the fire and sat down beside it. "Just on my way to Rome," he said.

  "And you happened to find us?" Justin asked through tight lips.

  "Indeed," Merek said, warming his hands over the flames. He looked at Luitgard. "Your beau is far from pleasant." He did not wait for a response. "He was always such a frightened child too. He's lucky I was around to protect him but you would never know that with the way he talks."

  "You never protected anyone in your life," Justin spat. "I know the things you did and you have no right to call yourself a holy man."

  Merek burst into a full-bellied laugh. "If that precluded me from being a holy man," he said, "Then most of those in the Church would have to renounce their office."

  "And therein lies the problem," Justin muttered.

  Merek shrugged. "Still ungrateful to those who raised and cared for you," he said. "A bastard like you would have starved to death as a babe without the Church's help. Is it not also unholy to be so angry and horrid? Perhaps this little pagan has twisted your mind."

  "Why are you here?" Justin asked. He was still refusing to sit down. The breeze batted at the edges of his shirt that poked out from under his surcoat.

  "I already told you," he said," I am on my way to Rome. We can even travel together! I am sure you will find the hospitality much better with me along."

  "What kind of hospitality do you mean?" Justin asked. "Does it include shackling me in my sleep and carrying me triumphantly to the Pope?"

  "Haven't you heard?" Merek asked. "The Pope has fled to Naples. No point in taking you to Rome even if I cared what he thought. The only sense that ever came out of that man's brain was Ad extirpanda. Those damn Cathars have never stopped being a problem." He eyed Luitgard. "Does my mention of Cathars bother you, little pagan? Perhaps you would prefer if I spoke of dragons instead. You seem to have an affinity for them."

  She refused to look away but said nothing.

  "I know what he used to call you and what you used to call him," he continued. "You know the truth about him. I know you do. Did he give you one of his scales?"

  Her confusion broke her silence. "What are you talking about?"

  "What I am owed," he said.

  Justin walked around the far side of the fire from Merek to stand closer to Luitgard.

  "Relax, Justin," Merek said. "I have no interest in taking your play thing from you. In fact, I think I might have something that will help you two out."

  He reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out a large piece of fabric and handed it to Luitgard. As he held it out, she saw the wyvern upon it. Her shock overrode her sense and she grasped it to stare down at the familiar dragon. The fabric was stained with dried blood.

  "Would either of you like to know where I found that?" he asked.

  Neither of them said anything.

  "It belonged to the son of my mentor a long time ago," he said. "I fought alongside my mentor in our work for the Church. He was very good at carrying out that work too. The bodies we left behind for God to sort out were too numerous to count. He did not discriminate either. Children and women felt his blade; after he had had his fun of course. He taught me everything I knew. I thought him as much my father as did the man who once wore that crest. I loved him."

  As he spoke, Luitgard's fingers tightened around the fabric until her muscles would not allow her to clench anymore. "You are lying," she whispered even as Dragonfather's own words about his past came back to her.

  Merek did not stop watching her. "You so sure of that?" he said. "I am quite sure your great grandfather was there. We were told to let God sort out his own. That is what we did without hesitation ... well, I did not hesitate. It was the first time he questioned it. He turned his back on me, the one man who had worked so hard, even harder than his son by blood, to make him proud. In that battle, he had the nerve to look at me as if I were a monster, as if he hadn't ensured I was so. We were separated in the battle after that. I came upon his son and in my grief took his own blood from him. I hated him in that moment. But then, when the last of the Cathars had been killed, he was gone. No one had seen him or known where he had gone. I was sure he had been killed. Despite what he had done to me, I respected him enough to know he would never be a coward. I loved him enough to forgive his momentary betrayal. He had been punished for it with his death and so I thought fondly of him always afterward." As he continued, his eyes never wavered. "I truly mourned his loss. Then, oh, about twelve years ago, when I was in Rome, I ran into him. He was so reluctant to talk to me. He had his grand
daughter to watch over, you see. The old times were done and his betrayal of me was complete. He doted upon that girl ... "

  He was breathing heavily, as if the memories were too much, but his eyes never wavered. In fact, his face had hardened as he spoke his next words. He looked as if he wanted to rip out Luitgard's throat. As he continued, she could not help but lower her eyes to the crest in her hands.

  "When I discovered he had just fled like a coward, I continued to keep that crest. It reminds me of how easy it would be to fall victim to weakness. He lied to me and left a line of bastards in his wake. When I learned his son had impregnated his betrothed before his death, I vowed to watch over him for my own purposes. Kilchain had no idea he already had a grandson, let alone a great grandson to follow him. But one day, I knew that knowledge would bring me what I needed." His eyes flicked to Justin. "Is that the story your father told you in his stupors or did you think you were holy and noble?" He did not wait for an answer. "The great Kilchain. The noble Kilchain. I am sure, little pagan, that you must have thought you had a proud history. Sorry to bring you back to reality. Kilchain was nothing but a murdering coward."

  Luitgard remembered Dragonfather's blue eyes. She forced herself not to look away from the wyvern crest before her. She did not want to look into Merek's eyes and see the triumph she knew would be there. Justin had been right about Merek's enjoyment of cruelty. She refused to give him what he wanted. Dragonfather had admitted he had done horrible things but he had also worked to set things right. Though Merek's words were painful to hear, they were no surprise. Both she and Justin knew or at least suspected the atrocities in their pasts.

  She swallowed hard. She tried her best to appear uncaring as she held out the crest for Merek to take from her. "Keep it for the next time you wish to weave stories," she said. "Maybe your next audience will believe you."

  Merek's jaw tensed as he snatched back the crest. Though she was sure he knew how much he had gotten to her, her refusal to show it irked him. This small triumph of her own was no comfort. In fact, she immediately began to fear what Merek might do. He obviously held a grudge.

  As darkness fell, Justin sat next to Luitgard and placed his arm around her. Merek remained where he was next to the fire but no longer spoke. Luitgard planned to stay awake the entire night. She did not trust the man across from them. But Justin's embrace was so warm. His shoulder so much softer than the rocks that had been her pillows of late. As the silence stretched, the flames became too hypnotic.

  The water of the lake lapped at the back of her ankles. It was black and impenetrable. She looked up. The forest was a smattering of greys running into each other. The birds still did not sing. The only sound was that of a repetitive dripping.

  The dying hut was the only shadow amongst the trees, nearly as black as the water at her feet. The trees around it were completely still. The dripping pounded with each beat of her heart.

  "Where are you Luitgard?"

  Dragonfather's call was a whisper. She wanted to go to him in the dying hut but the wrongness made her pause. She looked down at her feet. Swirling in the black water were clouds of red. Her bones, her muscles, her organs - everything in the centre of her chest - tightened.

  Drip. Drip. Drip.

  She turned.

  "Where are you Luitgard?" Dragonfather whispered again.

  She ignored the call and even manage to push aside that relentless dripping as her eyes took in the dark grey plumes rising into the sky from the blackened manor. Beams fell, splashing into the water. As she saw what also floated in the water amongst the rubble, she choked.

  "Where are you Luitgard?" Dragonfather called again. His voice clear as if he were whispering in her ear.

  Drip. Drip. Drip.

  When she did not respond, when she remained unable to look away, he called again.

  She felt a hand rest on her shoulder. The dripping stopped. Dragonfather's pleas stopped.

  She looked up but it was not Dragonfather standing beside her. It was the most beautiful dark-haired woman she had ever seen. She was two heads taller than Luitgard. Her robes matched those of statues she had seen in Rome. She was looking straight ahead at the burning manor. Despite the flames, Luitgard smelled sweet flowers. It was the same woman who had visited her before. She knew it was the Goddess.

  "There was no hope for them," she said. "You and Justin are the last of the Mintharchs. Even if you had been there, there would have been nothing you could have done. Your home is gone."

  "Why did you not protect them?" Luitgard begged. "Why did the barrier fall?"

  The Goddess was unmoved. "Truth will be found in Rome," she said.

  She squeezed Luitgard's shoulder, her grip strong enough that the touch flirted with pain. Then she was gone.

  Drip, drip, drip, drip.

  "Luitgard?" Dragonfather called again. "Please."

  When she awoke, the grey of early dawn shrouded their camp. Justin was still holding her close but it appeared Merek was gone. As she moved her head to get a better look, Justin said, "He left not long ago. No doubt he left to work the next step of his plan."

  "What should we do?" she asked.

  "Turn back," he said.

  "No! What about Dragonfather?" she begged, clutching at his tunic. The vision of Dragonfather's eyes was still clear in her mind. "We cannot leave him to be tortured and die by the hands of that awful man."

  "If Merek had him, do you think he would be wasting his time with us?" Justin asked.

  Her hands fell. "What are you saying?"

  Justin reached up and ran his fingers through her disheveled hair. "I am saying it is far more likely that we are the bait for Kilchain, not the other way around."

  "And if you are wrong? If Dragonfather is a captive in Rome?"

  Merek would kill him. Dragonfather had been trying to tell her exactly that this whole time. He had managed to contact her somehow. He had never done so before. He was already in great danger and she knew it and she knew that he was in Rome. The Goddess, not some dream, had told her that was the right way to travel. She needed to get to Rome. The others were gone. It was the only way she could save the last of their people.

  Justin's voice remained calm. "Merek is trying to lead us to Rome to join Kilchain, likely to wipe out the last of the line to complete his revenge. We cannot give him what he wants," he said.

  "And what do we get by going back?" she asked. "They are all dead. There is nothing left for us there no matter how much we wish there was."

  "We do not know that."

  "I know that!" she insisted. "I am their leader. I can feel it in my heart when they are hurt. They are dead! And even if you are right, to go back would be leading Merek straight to them."

  "Did I not already give him exactly that opportunity when I found you?" Justin asked.

  He continued to stroke her hair but she was numb to the attention. She could not understand how he was remaining so calm. It was all clear to her. There was no need to deliberate when the destinations were clear, yet he acted as if there was still hope.

  She wanted to strangle Merek and watch the life fade from his eyes. He had given them five minutes of conversation and left a life or death chaos in his wake, probably exactly as he had wanted. They had already decided they would continue on to Rome until he arrived. There was no question about it until he tortured them with his stories. She would not be fooled.

  "No," she said. "I will not give up on the chance to save Dragonfather. I made my choice in Vienna. And now that we know he was your great grandfather, I cannot believe you do not want to save him too."

  Justin's hand froze and his eyes turned to hers. " You are more real and more important to me than Kilchain. I don't want to see Merek hurt you," he said. "And that is exactly what will happen if we go. That is what he wants."

  "No, it is not," she said. "Merek is trying to stop us from going to Rome; trying to turn me against Dragonfather, telling us the Pope is not in Rome as if we even cared, telling
us he is headed that way. If we turn back, his manipulations will have been successful. I cannot let that happen. We have to press on. We have to make it. We have to find Dragonfather. Merek is a devil."

  Justin pulled her back into the crook of his arm. "If you are so sure," he said low, "Then we will go, but don't believe what he said about not taking you away from me. That is the kind of thing he lives for and something he enjoys doing in the most demented way possible ... I love you, Luitgard."