Sanctuary (Dominion) (15 page)

Shortly after crossing the bridge, I heard a commotion coming from the Silver Gable, the same tavern I’d visited earlier. I stood out front, listening curiously to the shouting inside, but unwilling to go in and get myself involved in whatever argument might be causing it. Fortunately, the argument came to me instead. The door opened and Ewen stormed out, followed by a few displeased patrons of the tavern and the man I recognized from earlier as the barkeep. They shouted at him to leave, and not to come back, and Ewen waved them away angrily. The torch lights outside cast a shadow on his face but I could clearly see the tortured expression on his face, and I wondered if that's how he looked last night, hiding away in the stables. Even though I hesitated to be near him, his torment called to me. I could feel his fear, and it drew me closer.

"Ewen," I said, approaching him carefully, trying not to startle him. He looked at me, recognized me, and waved me off. The patrons returned back to the tavern, closing the door behind them, while Ewen stalked away, down the road leading back to the church.

"Ewen, it's me, Daniel. Are you not feeling well?" I followed a few paces behind, not wanting to crowd him in case he was agitated.

"I just need to rest, Father," he said in halting speech. "That's all."

"Is your sickness causing this?"

He looked at me as if I'd somehow offended him. "It's not... not what you think."

"Tell me, then."

"No." His pace slowed enough that I was able to walk alongside him. He smelled heavily of ale. “You wouldn't understand. None of you do.”

"I might surprise you."

"You think I'm drunk," he said harshly. "And you'd be right. But I'm not sick. I was never sick." He stared ahead at nothing, his eyes full of anger.

“Sick from what?” I asked, trying to feign ignorance.

“I’m not stupid, Father. I know they told you about me. Didn’t they?” He glared at me, and I moved out of arm’s reach, just to be safe.

“They told me you were-” I left the implication unspoken.

“Mad. I know. From a disease, they’ll say, but it’s not a disease.” He shook his head. “She made me like this,” he growled. “She's the one who did this to me. She let the demon inside. It’s her fault I have to fight him off."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "The what?" He kept walking, ignoring me, so I caught up again. "She let what inside?"

"The demon,” he mumbled. “He's in my head. A punishment for my sins."

"Why would you say that?" I asked. "Why would you call it a demon?"

"Because that's what it is!" he nearly shouted. His expression became wild with anger, and for a moment, the briefest of moments, I saw in his eyes the same thing I'd seen in Caenwyld’s, a swirling, tumultuous shadow that dredged up every abhorrent emotion I could imagine. During that moment, Ewen become someone else. I took a step back without even thinking. He must have seen something in my expression, though, because he realized what he'd done. He stopped and regained his composure, squeezing his eyes shut and when they opened again, the darkness was gone. He was Ewen again. "I'm sorry, Father. I-I shouldn't have raised my voice."

I was too stunned to move my feet. My mind was a frantic jumble of disordered thoughts and raw emotions that tore at each other like feral cats. I’d waited for a sign from God, anything to let me know my journey of discovery wasn’t over. Had I just seen it? Ewen watched me like a rebuked child, and that's when I realized he was waiting for me to speak.

"No, it's quite all right, Ewen,” I said, struggling to keep my composure. I was afraid, ecstatic and cautious all at once, and I desperately hoped that I hadn't imagined what I'd just seen. “You must be going through a terrible ordeal."

He took a deep breath. "It is not easy."

We walked in silence until we reached the bridge, which is where my curiosity finally boiled over. "Ewen, tell me about this demon.”

He hesitated, his eyes darting between me and the road in front of him. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Nothing? How do you even know it’s there?”

“Why do you care?” he asked. His entire demeanor had changed by now, from angry to withdrawn. “No one else does.”

“I care, Ewen, because,” because I had to make sure I wasn’t mad, I wanted to say, “I want to help. But you have to tell me everything. How do you know this demon is inside of you?”

Ewen stopped. He looked uncomfortable. "I hear it, sometimes."

"It speaks to you?"

Ewen's expression drooped, revealing his exhaustion. "Sometimes. It tries to. I heard it again, just now. Back in the tavern.” He shook his head weakly. “He wanted me to hurt someone. He’s trying to make me his own. I’m being punished."

It was happening all over again, right here in front of me. And this time, I could find out what 'it' was. "Tell me everything, Ewen. Tell me everything you know about this demon. About this woman.” I reached out and grabbed his arm, no longer concerned about any sickness. “Where is she?"

Ewen froze, and his eyes slowly found their way to mine. Once they did, I saw a flicker of the darkness in him. But again, it lasted only an instant before he pulled away from me as if I was the one with a disease.

"No," he said, backing away. "I can't. Just talking about it makes me… I need to sleep. I need rest. I can't fight him forever."

"Maybe I can help-"

"No!" Ewen turned and stalked off down the street. “Just… leave…” he said, but he never finished the words, at least not so I could hear them. I stood where he’d left me, pondering what I’d learned tonight, and where this discovery might take me next.

Chapter 12

The church grounds were empty and silent when I returned, a flickering lantern inside the stables providing the only illumination. The light would dim and flare over and over again, and I imagined the lantern sitting on the wide wooden counter on the far wall, surrounded by coils of rope, brushes, and leather saddle straps, with Ewen walking back and forth in front. I should leave him alone, I thought. His ramblings could be a result of his sickness, a real sickness, mixed with drink. Maybe I’d imagined what I saw in him back on the bridge, and I only wanted his claims of a demon to be real to sate my own desires. Or maybe I’d dreamt up a ruse to distract me from the fact that I’d lost my mind. I should let him sleep, and talk with him in the morning, when both our heads would be clear. That would be prudent.

But that’s not what happened. I moved closer, drawn by the temptation of enlightenment. The demon, the war, the battle over our souls. I had to understand these things. I had to know if my abandonment of Rogwallow still had purpose. The man in that stable was the only link I had left to that sacrifice. I’d already lost Arkael in the middle of the night, I couldn’t lose Ewen, too.

Seek, and ye shall find.

When I reached the stable, I stood next to a small gap in the wood next to the door, where I could peek inside without him knowing. As I suspected, he paced back and forth, running his hand through his thick hair as if vexed by a problem he couldn’t solve. His breaths were heavy, forced, as if in pain. Whatever his situation, he didn’t look eager to be interrupted, and my resolve waned. But still I waited. Whatever I’d seen in Caenwyld, I’d also seen in Ewen, but I didn’t fear Ewen like I did that terrible priest. Caenwyld oozed evil; he stank of it, as if bathing in it. But not Ewen. The conflict in him was plain to me. Arkael told Caenwyld his soul couldn’t be saved, but maybe that wasn’t yet true for Ewen. I shook my head furiously, reminding myself that I still had to prove this wasn’t all the result of too much ale and wine.

When I looked back through the crack, Ewen had stopped, and I caught my breath, hoping I hadn’t accidentally made a sound. His head slowly turned my direction, but I didn’t wait to see where his gaze would fall. I ran as fast as I could back to the annex, around the far side where I couldn’t be seen, and threw open the door. The kitchen was empty and dark, but a light from the hallway let me find my way to my room easily enough. I stepped in, closed the door behind me, and waited, listening for any sound of someone following. I knew without thinking that this was irrational. I had nothing to fear from him. He’d never hurt anyone at the church before, so why would tonight be different? Eadwyn said he had places he would go, to hide, to keep those around him safe. He would do the same tonight. My fear was ungrounded.

After a while, when no footsteps had come my way, I chuckled at my foolishness, removed my robes, climbed into my bed, and fell asleep. I dreamed again of that day in the church. This time, I was on my knees, the knife at my throat, and Caenwyld ranted and raved about dark times coming to us all. But I couldn't hear him. He was there, but only on the periphery of my vision. All I could think about was the knife. It was larger this time, more jagged, and I could feel the edges pushing against my skin. The cold blade dug painfully into my neck, and I had trouble swallowing.

I woke up, and everything in my dream faded back to reality... except for the knife.

Ewen crouched over me, his eyes wild. I flinched, trying to move away, but I couldn't. With one strong arm, he held me down, bracing it across my chest and using his own weight to keep me pinned to the bed. The other arm held the knife, exactly where I’d left it in my dream.

"Ewen..." I said, struggling to keep still while abject terror coursed through my body. "What are you doing?"

"You can't see her," he said, his voice raw and throaty. "She belongs to me." I saw the darkness in his eyes again, but it would come and go, only appearing for an instant before flittering away.

"Ewen, let me up.” I pushed against his arm as hard as I could, but I couldn’t budge him. “Please. Don't do this."

"She's mine!" he growled. "She doesn't belong to you. She doesn’t want you."

"Ewen, please! It's me! It's Daniel! You have to remember who I am.” I looked over to see the door to my room shut. But that wouldn’t stop anyone from hearing if I screamed. “I only wanted to help you."

"I don't need your help. I don't need you. I have him! I hear his voice!" Ewen leaned close, his dank breath washing over my face. "It's madness,” he whispered, “and it is glorious."

"Ewen, don't do this,” I begged. Why wasn’t I screaming for help yet? “You're not a murderer. You're a good man. Please."

"Shut up!” I felt the knife push deeper against my neck. "He's already saved me. He loves me. If I bring him blood, especially the blood of a priest, he will love me even more."

"You don't want to kill me, Ewen. I'm not a priest. I’m just a man."

His eyes became dark again and he stared at me with a curious intensity. “You can't fool me, Father. You can't hide what you are from me."

"Ewen,” I groaned. He pushed down on me, crushing my chest. “Remember who you are. Remember the people here who care about you. Eadwyn. Oslac. Agnes. The children. You said you had nephews, right? Remember your family."

Ewen stopped. His eyes darted about, as if searching for a memory. He looked at me, but the malevolence was gone. I felt the weight of his body lessen, but he was still too big and heavy to move.

“What… what are you…” he stammered.

“Please remember them. Remember who you are.”

His eyes cleared, and his brow furrowed. He looked at me, and this time, he really saw me. He leaned back, saw the blade in his hand, and he threw it against the wall, his mouth open in horror. He fell back then, scooting away as fast as he could until he backed into the door.

"Father!" His hands went to his head, and he grabbed at his hair, pulling. "I'm sorry, Father! I'm so sorry!”

I leaped to my feet and forced myself into the corner behind my bed, the farthest possible spot I could get from him.

“I couldn't help it. I was taken. He made me do that to you. It was the demon,” Ewen mumbled, too ashamed to look directly at me.  “I promise you, it was him. Not me.”

I panted, feeling my tenuous life slowly return. “I believe you.”

“I promise…”

“I know,” I said. Even though that was true, the words felt hollow.

Suddenly, Ewen stood up, causing my entire body to tense in alarm. Instead of coming after me, though, he opened the door and ran out. A moment later, the only sounds in my room were the distant creaking from the back door to the annex as it opened and closed, and my fast, heavy breaths. And still I wondered why I never screamed for help.

*****

Temptation and hubris. That’s why I stayed silent.

The temptation came from my realization about what I’d seen in Ewen’s eyes – within that darkness, that shadow, was the doorway to another realm, and even if it led straight to hell, I still felt the need to touch it, to explore, to know what lay on the other side. Despite the danger, I couldn’t resist the conceit associated with knowing what no one else could know, or should know.

The hubris was even more powerful, though. Despite the threat to my life, I was more concerned with learning why I might die instead of trying to actually prevent it. My pleas had been answered, and God had showed me that my part in this ordeal wasn’t finished. That’s why I found myself standing outside the annex in the dark, watching the stables as Ewen rummaged around inside. Because I didn’t fear him as I should. God would protect me. God was showing me the way.