A man squatted in a corner of the ruins, in a shadow, his indigo tunic and his dark leather pants blending into the walls. He looked to be the same age as Daniel’s parents, and perhaps the age of the stonemason in the village, and without any white peppering his light, reddish hair.
Like Papa, he appeared tall, and narrow-framed. He held his shoulders with strength, though, as if he could toss one of the ruin’s boulders into the river from where he squatted.
He held a dagger tightly between his fingers and his palm. He flipped it over, then back, then poked at the stone floor with its point.
Someone had wrapped leather around the blade guard and the hilt of the dagger. Thick leather, as if hiding whatever was underneath was more important than usability and utility.
That dagger carried purpose. Daniel sensed intention from not only the man, but from the blade. Different intentions, but intentions aligned.
Daniel rubbed at his forehead. Objects did not carry intentions; people did. Whatever the strangeness was that he sensed about this moment was all the man. It had to be. He would not lose sight of that.
“Hello,” the man said as he stood, his voice accented, but lightly. He sounded educated more than foreign, and odd in a way Daniel could not quite describe.
“Ummm…” Antonius all but jumped when the man spoke.
Daniel stepped between them more on instinct than for any obvious reason. Somewhere in the back of his head, one of his small voices started up again. A quiet one whispering Careful. Don’t trust.
You are correct to fear.
The man smiled as he stood. His muscles loosened as well. He didn’t hold himself in a confrontational way. Instead, he sheathed his oddly-wrapped dagger and held out his hand in a gesture of welcome. “Faustus.”
Power rolled off the man, though his clothes suggested he was a normal traveler engaged in normal rest in a place offering shelter. Was he a Shifter? Another Fate? Once his activation took hold, Daniel would be able to tell immediately if he was in the presence of another with abilities. Until then, he needed to rely on his instincts.
And his instincts told him that even if Faustus was not powerful, he was still a man of power.
Daniel shook his hand. “Are you alone?”
The man chuckled and rubbed the top of his head. “No need to worry, boys. I’m not one to poke my nose in where it’s not wanted.”
Behind Daniel, Antonius shook.
The man calling himself Faustus held up both his hands. “I needed a place for my midday meal. These ruins looked protected.” He gestured at the walls but leaned toward Daniel. “There are men from the Empire about.” He nodded as if he’d just shared a very important secret.
“We know.” Daniel’s little voices continued their whispers and he slid his foot back, to better shield Antonius.
Faustus nodded. “They have their ways.” He bent to pick up a satchel from the shadows. “You two tread carefully.”
“What do you mean?” Antonius said around Daniel’s shoulder. Fear rose off Antonius; Daniel smelled it on his breath.
He smelled it on himself, as well. This man with his odd dagger, though innocuous in his stance, made Daniel’s small hairs stand on end.
Faustus sniffed and stood tall. “When cut correctly, the fabric of the universe makes a fine tunic.” He waved his hand at the sky. “But only for those willing to take the pokes from their needle to correctly stitch up their world.” He winked and threw the strap of his satchel over his shoulder. “Can’t help myself. I’m a tailor.”
“Why are you out here, by yourself?” Daniel pushed Antonius toward the gap they had just crawled through.
“I’m on my way up the river. I hear there’s a fine town along its banks a few days’ walk north.” Faustus stared at Daniel as if he understood exactly whose town he spoke of—and he expected Daniel to understand, as well.
“To offer your skills?” Antonius’s voice held strong. He must have found his center.
Daniel threaded his hand behind his back and squeezed his friend’s hand.
“Yes,” Faustus said. “To offer my skills.” He adjusted his bag, but continued to stare at Daniel. “Would you two care to join me? Step out, perhaps, and choose a path away from the people who… constrain… your skills? I will train you myself.” He smiled again. “I am in need of apprentices.”
Was he offering them an escape? Daniel’s heart thumped.
But he needed to be vigilant. “You should go.” Daniel and Antonius should run and not look back.
“Yes, you are correct, young man.” Faustus closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “My trip has made my bones weary and my body sore.” Again, he stared directly at Daniel. “I made choices that caused me pain, yet I have learned that the greater the pain, the greater the fabric from which I cut. The pain continues now, but if it did not, I would not benefit in the days to come. Don’t you agree?”
Was this man threatening him? Was he offering a warning? Was he threatening Antonius? Daniel’s small voices chattered, but nothing surfaced as a clear whisper.
Daniel didn’t know what to do.
Faustus laughed and slapped his leg. “Run on home, boys. Perhaps one day, you will have something to offer, huh? A bit of fabric meant to be snipped into a quality tunic?” He made clipping motions with his fingers.
Daniel pressed Antonius toward the long hall exiting the ruins, careful not to turn his back to Faustus. The man posed no obvious threat, though Daniel was sure he was not the tailor he claimed to be. Were his words veiled threats? Was Daniel fearful only because he now had Antonius to lose?
They popped out into the trees alongside the river. Daniel gripped Antonius’s hand and pulled him toward the village.
Chapter Ten
When they returned to the church, the sun hung much lower in the sky than just past noon. Workers continued to clang on stone. Others sawed and chiseled wood. People chatted and laughed. Two older priests scurried from point to point, looking over shoulders and frowning.
“Will you speak of the tailor with your Father?” Antonius appeared as conflicted as Daniel. The man had done them no harm.
Perhaps Daniel should speak to Papa. A past-seer should have a better understanding of the encounter than his future-seeing Father.
But then again, Papa hadn’t asked about the men walking along the river. Maybe neither of his fathers had the ability to offer understanding. And what if Papa spied Daniel’s intimacy with Antonius? Would he be as angry as he was about Daniel’s spying on the Dracos?
The tailor, though acting friendly, had not felt friendly. Not with his words about “pain” and “cutting the fabric of the world.” Was the man a threat? He spoke their language, unlike the men who came with Brother Martin, so he probably wasn’t with them.
Daniel felt more confused now than he had when he and Antonius ran from the ruins. “I don’t know.”
He released Antonius’s hand as they walked up the path toward the back of the new church. His friend glanced down at their now-separated fingers and Daniel swore he saw regret wash over Antonius’s face.
All thoughts of the tailor vanished into concern about Antonius.
Did he feel regret for what they just shared? Regret that it ended? Regret that they could not walk into the village with their hands clasped in joy? Antonius was on his way to becoming a priest. He had a church to attend to. Daniel was Parcae.
He and his brothers had been aware of their heritage for more than four years. On their twelfth birthday, Mama, Father, and Papa made a point of giving names to the abilities that their parents exhibited daily and that the boys took for granted. They were special, and that specialness came with a price that his parents detailed in explicit and specific terms: They lived a guarded life. The fear that the noises in the forest might be something bigger and meaner than a wolf was a clear and real issue for Daniel.
It meant training and lessons. It also meant secrecy because the knowledge of Fates put not only the family, but
everyone around them, at risk.
Unlike Timothy, Daniel would not risk Antonius’s life by blabbering about his abilities.
Ahead of them, the stonemason’s booming voice echoed around the church. “My Lady!” he yelled.
A horse whinnied.
Neither Daniel nor Antonius were able to see around the building, but they both understood what the stonemason’s yells meant: A visitor, and a wealthy one at that. They’d better stay out of the way.
Brother Tambor burst from the church, stomping and muttering, but he pulled up short when he saw Daniel and Antonius.
“Step away from that creature!” Brother Tambor hissed. He waved his arm in a grand sweep before settling his crooked finger pointing directly at Daniel’s eye.
Antonius audibly gasped.
Did Brother Tambor suspect that he and Antonius had been intimate? But how?
“A woman from the godless town rides her damned horse onto our consecrated ground.” Brother Tambor sniffed and again waved his arm as if he’d been drinking. “His father runs away.”
“What?” Daniel looked around the larger priest. A visitor from the dragon’s fortifications was in the village?
Why would Father hide?
Brother Tambor yanked Antonius away from Daniel. “You both must ask forgiveness for your indiscretions.”
“Wh… Why?” Antonius visibly blanched.
Daniel smelled the wine. Tambor had been drinking.
“Leave him alone!” Daniel pushed the older priest away from Antonius. Why was he in their business? But Daniel had seen other men act as Brother Tambor did now—the drink emboldened them to act on imagined affronts and believed slights even without evidence.
And Brother Tambor obviously had beliefs about Antonius, Daniel, and Daniel’s family.
“Antonius has brought more of God’s grace into my life than all the rest of you combined!” Daniel yelled. Their time together had certainly felt as if God’s blessing were real.
“Well, that’s a shame, isn’t it, boy?” Brother Tambor pulled Antonius toward the priests’ dormitory.
“What are you doing?” Daniel yelled.
Brother Tambor rounded on Daniel. “New laws come to us from the east. Your kind will no longer be tolerated.”
His kind? What did that mean? The thought of Antonius lying in the cold river rushed over Daniel again. He gasped, his arms flailing, as if they both drowned. Daniel tripped. His ass dropped to the damp ground.
The shock that climbed his spine did so with spiked gloves and boots.
Antonius reached for him but quickly yanked back his hand.
Daniel needed to get off the ground and pull Antonius away from Tambor. They could run away together. He’d sneak back for his activation. Timothy and Marcus would be fine without him. He and Antonius would live their lives in the woods away from everyone. They’d be fine. They’d—
Two hands hooked under Daniel’s arms. “Son! Get up!”
Daniel looked up. Father watched the wide, open lawn of the church more than he did his son, his face as white and ghostly as Antonius’s.
“Father!” Daniel pointed toward the dormitory. “Brother Tambor is going to hurt Antonius!”
“Hush.” Father pulled him toward the carts along the side of the church. “We have a problem.”
Yes, they had a problem. Daniel had a very big problem. This wasn’t like Timothy and Ingund. Daniel knew deep in his bones that Brother Tambor was about to beat Antonius.
Father pulled him into the shadows between two of the carts. “Your family comes first.”
Daniel pulled away. “My family is not about to feel a lash!”
Father receded farther into the shadows. “Are you sure?”
“What are you saying?” Where were Timothy and Marcus? They’d gone off earlier in the day to cut timbers. He hadn’t seen them all day.
The church’s lawn opened onto the long lane that acted as the village’s main artery. The new stone house of God stood over the cluster of smaller buildings, including the blacksmith’s works, a stable connected to the tavern, and the stonemason’s home. The village wasn’t much of anything, but with the new church, it might bring more people into the area and increase work for the blacksmith and the other skilled laborers.
Or that’s what Father said. The church was a lot more than a house of God. It stood as an example of the skills and quality of the local people.
“She stopped at the well to draw water for her horse.” Father pointed up the lane. “I knew immediately who she was.”
The girls surrounded the rider as she slid off her horse. She landed agile and strong like a warrior, and when she handed the reins of her mount to one of the older girls, she looked directly at the carts—and Daniel.
Yesterday, in the pool, the woman’s hair had flowed around her face. Now, she wore a tightly braided bun on the back of her head. Today, she dressed in black archery leathers including a pair of tight trousers that accentuated the feminine curve of her hips.
“That’s the woman I saw with the Dracos.”
Like the man he’d seen in the pool, she had a warmer cast to her skin. But unlike the golden shimmer of the man, this woman’s tones leaned toward bronze, as did her hair and, strangely, her eyes. They flickered pale and enchanting, as if her irises were patina-coated copper floating in water.
She looked over the girls, touching their cheeks one by one, sometimes looking into their eyes and always sending the too-young away.
“What’s happening?” The girls acted as if the woman was their savior.
Father gripped his arm. He watched the woman but he slowly backed away with his son, as if they had just been confronted by a venomous snake. “Our lord wishes a blessing from her masters.”
Was she here to take a virgin to the dragon? “For the crops?”
Father’s face scrunched when he glanced at Daniel. One of his eyebrows arched in confusion and his lips parted slightly in surprise. “What do you know of the old traditions?”
“Antonius told me.” He needs your help, whispered on of his voices. Daniel almost fell on his backside again.
His voices were speaking to him? They always spoke, but they didn’t speak. What was wrong with him?
“He needs me, Father. He needs us! Why does this woman matter?” Every one of Daniel’s bones wanted to rush to the dormitory.
Father’s eyes narrowed as if he understood better than Daniel. But his eyes hadn’t blanked the way they did when he used his future-seer.
“Listen to me, son.” Father continued backing them deeper into the shadows. “I did not see her arrival. It isn’t… dangerous. Yet it is. Something bad comes our way but I am not sure she will bring it.”
“You aren’t making sense, Father.” How was Daniel to help parse this if he only received conflicting and confusing information?
Father released his arm when they vanished into the shadow of the church. “We cannot allow her to see us. We cannot help your friend. She will sense our presence.” He rubbed his face. “Her name is Livia Sisto. I… recognize her. Your mother’s family—mine as well, and Papa’s—have long been three prickly thorns in her side.” He looked up through the shadow at the sky. “We are in danger.”
As was Antonius. They were all in grave, real danger. “If I stay low, I can move—”
“No!” Father’s grip on Daniel’s arm tightened to the point of pain. “I have foreseen your curse, son. The same curse you share with your brothers, though less so with Marcus.”
Daniel gaped. He carried a curse? “What could possibly curse us more than what we inherited from our parents?” His words dripped from between his lips, as venomous as a snake’s hiss.
Father let go of his arm. “Do you want to do well by that boy because you wish to see him free from harm, or do you want to do well because you wish to not be harmed by his pain?”
“What difference does it make?” He wasn’t going to do what the tailor suggested. He would never cut the fa
bric of the what-was-is-will-be to satisfy his own desires. Only saving Antonius mattered.
Father humphed and returned to watching the women. Out on the lawn in front of the new church, the girls clapped and touched the archer named Livia Sisto. “It matters because along one path pebbles lie in your way, and stones lie along the other.”
The desire to hit Father welled up in Daniel’s bones. His shoulders tensed. His fists balled. But he would not hurt his family.
Silently, Father shook his head. “You cannot walk both paths into the future.”
“Is this some obscure Parcae tale meant to confound my mind and keep me distracted?” Because Daniel felt distracted. “Why are you allowing an innocent to be tortured? Antonius has done only good for us.”
Somewhere deep in the dormitory, in a back room, Brother Tambor was about to inflict a judgment Antonius did not deserve.
They were not people the church would tolerate and Daniel—and his family—had brought that down on his friend. Doing well by him should be a priority.
But he could not disobey his Father. If he did, he would be as much an idiot as Timothy, though Timothy had not done anything terrible.
He’s about to, the little voice whispered.
Father grimaced. “Are you strong enough to be a good future-seer, Daniel?”
“What?” His voices poked and pinched. What was his brother about to do? Why was the woman named Livia Sisto a problem? What about Antonius?
Paths, all of them.
Father snorted as if he understood the concept of paths with as great and detailed a refinement as he knew his chisels and hammers. “You must choose the path that will lead to the greatest future, no matter the pain suffered in the present.”
The tailor had said the same words, though he’d implied making the greatest future.
“Father, at the ruins—”
Father waved his hand at Daniel. “I know about your time with the boy.”
“That’s not—”
“Yes, it is, son. It’s always about such times.” He nodded toward the girls. “A village producing women capable of attracting the dragons’ attentions is considered blessed and protected.” He nodded toward Livia Sisto. “By sending one of our best young females to their fortifications, our lord binds us as a village to the strength of the Dracae.”
Dragon’s Fate and Other Stories Page 6
