The sun was just rising on the horizon, so he took a little walk in the countryside before beginning his chores. It was a beautiful day. The trees were various shades of orange and red, some fields of wheat were still waiting to be harvested, and the grey squirrels were scurrying about, collecting nuts for the winter. The air was sweet from the breeze that blew from over the lavender fields nearby. He collected a bunch of apples from a tree that was ripe for picking and put them in his pockets. He returned to the monastery and left the apples in the kitchen before heading to the stables.
He entered a stall and Gregory whinnied with delight at seeing him. Ethan rubbed and kissed the horse's nose. He forked him in some fresh hay and hauled in water for the trough. He brushed the animal and talked to him in a low voice. He said goodbye to his friend and went to the garden that provided vegetables for the entire monastery.
He picked up a basket and collected several plump, red tomatoes, long, green cucumbers, and dug up several potatoes and carrots. It had been a good year and the harvest had been bountiful. In spite of the lateness of the year, every day more vegetables were in considerable abundance. It took Ethan quite a while to get used to the pleasant weather of France compared to the seemingly eternal cold of his old mountain village. He took his crop inside to the kitchen and began helping the other monks wash and prepare the food. He was scrubbing potatoes when he overheard the voice of just the man he needed to speak with. He dropped his things, exited the kitchen, and ran outside after him.
"Father!" he called. "Father Andrew! Can I speak with you?"
Father Andrew turned and saw Ethan running toward him. He groaned, rolled his eyes, and continued walking.
Father Andrew was quite fond of Ethan. He had found the boy a few years before, drunk on the side of a road in town, singing to his horse, after he had been tossed out of a bar for raving about werewolves and demons and calling all the waitresses cold-hearted sluts. He took the boy back to the monastery to sober up and get a hot meal. Afterward, he prodded Ethan about where he came from and what had happened to him. He was distressed by the way the boy had completely lost his faith in the Church and, more importantly, God. He made it his mission to save Ethan, but over the years he came to doubt if Ethan could ever fully return to the Church.
"Father," Ethan said, catching up to him. "Did you not hear me calling you?"
"Of course I heard you, Ethan," he replied. "But I know what you want, and the answer is 'no', like always."
"But why is it always no?" he asked.
"You are not ready," Father Andrew replied.
"How am I not ready? If this is what I want to do with my life, how can you deny me that?"
Father Andrew stopped walking and turned to Ethan. "I am not sure it is what you want to do with your life. I think you think it is what you want, but knowing what I know about you, I think it is not really what you want."
"What?" Ethan asked, confused.
"Precisely," the priest said and kept walking. Ethan followed. "Ethan, I believe I have come to know you very well. I think you truly want to serve God and give Him your best, but I believe you are not ready to do that."
"How can you know that?" Ethan prodded. "If I feel I am ready to make my vow to God, how can you stand in my way?"
"Elévè," Father Andrew finally said, "you're too angry."
Ethan scoffed. "Angry? I am not angry. I never yell or lose my temper."
"You are angry because you are still hurt." They stopped walking. Father Andrew looked at Ethan as the young man crossed his arms and lowered his head in dismay. "You don't believe me, do you?" he asked.
Ethan shook his head. "You're wrong, Father."
"Am I? What was the name of the woman who broke your heart?"
Ethan pressed his lips. "I have told you before," he finally mumbled.
"I know," Father Andrew acknowledged. "But until you can say the name 'Victoria'," Ethan winced in pain at the sound of her name, "without doing that, you are not ready." Ethan scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I am not asking you to write a blason to her," the priest continued, "but your vow needs to come from a more pure place than hate or revenge. You need to find closure, to move on."
"It has been almost seven years, Father," Ethan said. "How can I move on if I haven't already?"
Father Andrew sighed. "I don't know, my son, but God will illuminate your path. He brought you here for a reason. I believe he will still yet 'light your feet and be a lamp for your roadway'," The kind Father reached out and hugged Ethan. "Rest assured, my boy, you are welcome here with us, always."
"Thank you, Father. I will never be able to repay your kindness."
"Now then," Father Andrew said, straightening up and walking back toward the church, "follow me. Let's put all this talk aside, I am sure I have some work for you to do."
After Ethan had finished most of his work, it was about midday, Ethan's favorite time to commune with God. The church was usually empty at this time. He knelt in the front row, took out his rosary, and prayed to the golden image of Christ hanging above the pulpit. He prayed for forgiveness for his many sins. He had not committed any sins recently that he knew about, but he still felt guilty for things he had done in the past.
No matter how far he had ridden, he could not escape her. It was as if she was following him. Everywhere he went, he could hear her voice, smell her scent and feel her presence. He began drinking just so he could get some decent sleep, but she was always in his dreams. He tried to drown out her face, her voice, her smile with women he met on his travels, but even sleeping with barmaids did not rid him of her image seared into his brain. He hated himself for having meaningless sex with random women. He couldn't help falling in with ones with fair skin or deep, dark eyes, but he could not hold them, caress them, or whisper sweet things to them. He meant even less to them than they did to him. All they wanted was a few coins or a safe place to sleep. Afterward, he felt even more empty and alone.
Drunken bar fights were common, which he usually won. It was not unusual for him to be woken up in a dank and muddy ally by Gregory's nudging nose. He didn't know how he survived; there were days he wished he would never wake up.
One day, he awoke in a warm, dry bed to the calming sound of chanting. Before he fully came to, he wondered if he was in heaven. He found himself in the Monastery of St. Bartholomew, the head of which was Father Andrew, who apparently had found him. Once he realized he was in a church, he quickly tried to leave, but Father Andrew did not give up on him. Father Andrew convinced Ethan to stay as a civilian carpenter, offering him food and lodging in exchange for honest work, but Ethan always let Father Andrew know he wasn't a member of the flock. He would still go to town to drink and fight. But Father Andrew always patiently and kindly brought him back. Somehow, he knew there was more to Ethan than just a drunken reveler. He saw a boy in pain, in need, and he earnestly wanted to help him. Over time, Ethan stopped fighting Father Andrew and began to confide in him. Ethan could not understand why he wanted to trust Father Andrew so much; after Father James, he thought he would never trust another priest again. But there was something honest about Father Andrew. Finally, Ethan gave in and allowed himself to be Father Andrew's personal charity case.
After a while, Ethan felt completely reborn and wanted to resume his original course of joining the Church himself. While Father Andrew was pleased with Ethan's progress, he also saw a darkness growing in the boy. The closer Ethan grew to God, the more he felt angry and guilty about the past. Father Andrew feared that the reasons for Ethan's descent in the first place were never fully resolved – or, perhaps, were even growing worse – and, therefore, would not allow Ethan to take the vows to become a monk. He allowed Ethan to live the lifestyle; it humbled the boy and allowed him to show his determination, but a vow to God was a serious and permanent promise, and Father Andrew would not allow Ethan to take that step until his heart and head were clear of the past.
When Ethan first rode away from the castle, he was not as ang
ry as he was sad, for himself and Victoria. But, as the years passed, the more he dwelled on their parting scene, the more betrayed he felt. Why did she not choose him? Was he so unworthy of her? She made her decision to marry and lay with another man without even discussing it with him. Perhaps she knew that he would not have let her go so easily – he would never have given up on her, or on them. While he did not know what kind of pressure her family put on her, he still believed that she gave up too quickly – no discussion, no second thought. She simply dismissed him like a toy or plaything that suddenly bored her. The more Ethan prayed and studied, the more he began to wonder if Father James had been right all along. She even admitted her family was cursed and unnatural. Cursed by God? How foolish of Ethan to think he could allow her into his life to lead him astray. He knew that Father James had loved him like a child; how hurt he must have been to see Ethan cast him aside for the love of a demon. What an ungrateful child he had been.
Ethan prayed to God for forgiveness for his past acts, for his impetuousness in pestering Father Andrew to let him take a step he was not ready to take. He asked for help in resisting the devil and his temptations. Finally, he asked for help to move on. He needed to forgive in order to receive forgiveness, but how could he forgive her? How could he forgive himself? He groaned aloud to try and drown out the thoughts, the same thoughts he had over and over again, and he pressed the rosary to his forehead. He tried to bury his own personal pain and prayed for God to help him, to lead him in the way in which he should walk.
He was crossing himself when a man carrying an important letter for Father Andrew entered the church. The man was tattered and had apparently traveled a long way. He was coughing and placed his hand on one of the pews to steady himself. Ethan ran to the man and offered him assistance.
"No, no boy. I am fine," he said. "I just need some water and a man named Father Andrew."
Ethan ran to the priest's office. Father Andrew went to the man while Ethan fetched some water. When Ethan returned, the man was gone. Ethan went to Father Andrew's office to see if they had gone there. The door was open a crack, and the men were speaking in low voices. Father Andrew had his hand to his mouth and a worried look on his face. He seemed lost in thought as Ethan knocked and brought the visitor a drink. The man thanked him and then sat in a leather chair in front of the priest's desk.
"Is there anything else I can do, father?" Ethan asked.
"No, Ethan," Father Andrew said, escorting Ethan out. "At least, not now. Thank you."
Father Andrew shut the door, and Ethan was left outside to wonder about the unexpected visitor that had so shaken the priest.
11
The guest left as quickly as he had arrived, dispatching a new letter from Father Andrew to an unknown recipient. After a couple of days, Ethan still wondered about the man. He knew that Father Andrew was a very important man both in France and abroad and was always busy with church matters or even affairs of state. Ethan was curious, but whenever he asked Father Andrew about it, he just smiled, patted him on the back, and gave him chores to do.
A couple of weeks later, Ethan was working in the garden when he saw a very excited person running toward him.
"Ethan, Ethan!" Jacob exclaimed. "Have you heard?" Jacob, another repentant sinner only a couple of years younger than Ethan, was beet red and panting from his run.
"Heard what?" Ethan asked, looking up from his work.
"Dom Calmet is here. He is meeting with Father Andrew in his office right now!"
"Dom Calmet? Are you sure?" Ethan asked.
"For certain! I prepared his room for him, and when he gave me his things, there were letters addressed to one Dom Calmet, and in his coat the letters D. A. C. were sewn into the lining."
"That is odd." In fact, it was more than odd, and Ethan's stomach churned at the news, but it intrigued him, too. "You know," Ethan said, trying to sound mature, "you should not have been looking at Dom Calmet's things. If Father Andrew finds out, he will be quite upset with you."
"Oh, bah!" Jacob said. "If Dom Calmet is here, Father Andrew has much bigger problems than my measly snooping. Why do you think he is here? Do you think our old monastery is haunted?"
"No, of course not. Maybe he is just passing through and needs a place to stay for the night," Ethan rationalized.
"I don't think so. One of the letters was from Father Andrew. I think he asked him to come here."
"Really?" wondered Ethan aloud. He paused for a moment, thinking about the kind of man it would take to actually kill a demon. He quickly shrugged off any thoughts that could take him anywhere near his old village. "Stop it, Jacob! We should not think of such things! You should confess and apologize for your err."
"Come on, old boy! Doesn't it make you just a bit curious? Maybe we will be lucky enough to be used by God to send demons back to hell one day like Dom Calmet. Wouldn't that be thrilling?" Jacob's eyes were wild with excitement.
"I don't really think it would be that exciting," Ethan said. "Terrifying, maybe."
"Maybe, but that would fade after a while, don't you think?"
Ethan thought back to a nightmare of being ripped to shreds by wolves and shuddered. "No, I don't believe it would ever fade away." He turned away from Jacob and continued digging potatoes.
Jacob, seeing that Ethan did not want to talk anymore, turned to leave him alone with his thoughts. He froze when he saw Father Andrew walking toward him. "Oh, for the love of Mary!" he said, crossing himself. "Ethan, how could he have known? Oh, bugger! I don't want to be sentenced to a vow of silence again."
Ethan looked up and saw Father Andrew. He stood as a form of moral support for Jacob, but he had a sinking feeling that Father Andrew was not there for Jacob. "Don't confess too quickly," Ethan said. "The Father doesn't look angry."
Jacob looked to the ground and kissed the cross around his neck as the priest approached.
"Ethan," Father Andrew said. "Will you come with me?"
"Oh, thank God," Jacob sighed aloud. The priest shot him an inquisitive look. Jacob smiled innocently and quickly ran off.
"What was that about?" Father Andrew asked, walking back in the direction from whence he came.
"You don't want to know," Ethan said, following him.
"Ethan, I don't want you to be shocked or alarmed, but we have a very important visitor I need you to meet."
"Oh, really?" Ethan asked, trying to sound surprised.
"Yes. Well, there is no easy way to say it. Have you ever heard of Dom Calmet?"
"Of course, Father."
"What do you know about him?"
"Well, what I have heard and what is fact may not be the same thing, I am sure."
"For certain," Father Andrew chuckled. "This may go easier than I thought. Follow me."
Ethan followed Father Andrew to his office. Father Andrew opened the door and revealed a tall man, standing with his back to them, looking out the window and smoking a cigar. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, a long leather coat, and gloves, all in black.
"Brother, I have asked you not to smoke in here," Father Andrew said.
"My apologies," the man said in a gruff voice as he put the cigar out on the corner of Father Andrew's desk.
Father Andrew sighed as he took his seat behind the desk. Ethan stood uneasily in the doorway. He tried to look at the man without staring. He could not help but notice a long scar on the right side of the man's face from his temple to his jaw.
"Ethan, shut the door," Father Andrew said. As Ethan did so, he caught a glimpse of Jacob peeking around the corner at the end of the hallway. Ethan rolled his eyes and shut the door. "Ethan, let me introduce you to Dom Augustine Calmet."
"Pleased to meet you, sir," Ethan said, looking at the ground but holding out his hand.
Dom Calmet smiled as he took it. "Just 'Calmet' is fine. No need for all that ceremony." Ethan gave a polite, uneasy smile as Calmet gave his hand a firm shake. Ethan kept his eyes low. "You can look at me, boy," Calmet finally said. "I'm n
ot going to bite you."
Ethan laughed uneasily and raised his head. Ethan thought that Calmet was probably not as old as he looked. He was most likely not much older than Father Andrew, but the years had not been kind. His skin had been darkened by the sun and his forehead was wrinkled with years of hard work. His hair was long and brown, but his eyes were a sparkling blue. Ethan's eyes naturally gravitated toward the scar without realizing it.
"Would you believe me if I said I got that from a werewolf?" Calmet asked.
"Would you believe me if I said I did?" Ethan asked.
Calmet laughed heartily and slapped Ethan on the back. "I like this boy, Father!" he exclaimed. "I can see we are going to get along just fine." He laughed again, took a seat in the leather chair, and propped his large booted feet up on Father Andrew's desk.
Father Andrew sighed again and rubbed his forehead. "Ethan, take a seat," he said. Ethan pulled a small wooden chair across the room next to Calmet and sat on the very edge of it. "Did you know that Dom Calmet is a monk and an ordained priest?" Father Andrew asked.
"I have heard that he is sanctioned by the Church, but I did not know in what capacity."
"Well, you may not know it to look at him, but he took vows at one time. He is one of the reasons I have not allowed you to take your vows. I know all too well how a man can scarcely keep his word to anyone after he is scorned by a woman, let alone to God."
"That's not very fair, Brother," Calmet said. "Punishing the poor boy on my behalf."
"Don't question how I run my order, Brother," Father Andrew said. "In spite of my brother's debauched lifestyle," he said to Ethan, "the Church has made him certain concessions, considering the job he does for all of our sakes."
Calmet clicked his tongue and winked at his brother. "Thank God for that!" he said laughing.
"Are you drunk?" Father Andrew asked.
"A little," Calmet replied.
"Did you say 'my brother'?" Ethan interrupted. "Do you mean fleshly brothers?" Ethan looked at them both a bit more closely, trying to discern a family resemblance. He didn't see any.
The Vampire's Daughter Page 11
