Tomorrow's Shadow

by Marcus Kruger

  ~ An Evening To Remember ~

  Stefano descended the stairs slowly, his mind already on the needed apology to Viktor. His soft walker shoes made almost no sound against the wood. He had chosen tight trousers, what Vargon would call “second skin” attire – they were his normal black and were topped with a ruby colored peasant shirt. The laces of the shirt hung open, much as his sire would wear. His hair looked like it might have seen a brush lately, but for the most part waved as it wished, some falling over his left eye. Having woken in a strongly sensual mood, his attire and poise reflected his carnal leadings; his walk was almost predatory. Shadows swirled in his ebony eyes, giving a stimulating finish to his appearance. He paused only briefly at the bottom of the stair before striding across the room towards the bar.

  “Viktor, I would like to have a word.”

  The administrator of the Keep bowed at the waist, mischief dancing in his bright green eyes. “M’Lord, I trust ye are well this fine eve.”

  Stefano stopped short, “If I thought you seriously felt you needed to bow, we would have much more to discuss. As it is, since I know and trust you, I wish to sincerely apologize for my brutish behavior yestereve.”

  Viktor smiled. “Apology not necessary, but happily accepted, m’friend.” He paused to allow his eyes time to roam over the kindred’s form. “Ye look almost decadent.”

  “Good. I feel almost decadent. A glass of the house cognac.” Asking for a “house” drink was a clue to Viktor he wanted the “natural” liquor, and not the private blood-cognac.

  Viktor poured a gracious amount into a snifter and set it on the bar. “Do ye have plans for the evening?” He barely finished his question when the front door opened. The newly-hired footman stepped in, followed by Gerik.

  "M’Lord, the young Master Falow to see you."

  Stefano stood and brushed at his shirt. "Thank you. You may return to your post."

  "As you wish, m’Lord." The footman stepped back out, closing the door behind him.

  Stefano glanced back at Viktor and spoke softly. “To answer your prior question, I am have planned for a ride with Gerik.”

  Stefano turned and smiled as he walked across the room, his drink still in hand. Gerik bowed his head in greeting. He was dressed in riding boots and trousers, both dark. His shirt was a soft blue that caught the dark sea-blue of his eyes. His hair had the finished look one would expect from one of the “houses” of the mainland – a direct contrast to the wantonness of Stefano’s.

  “Gerik, I am glad you made it. Would you care for anything before we head for the stables?”

  The younger man returned the smile as his eyes raked over Stefano’s form. “I’ll have whatever that is you’re drinking. You look ... that is, your drink looks enticing.”

  “Another cognac, Viktor.” Stefano walked back to the bar with Gerik. If he had noticed the slip in Gerik’s statement, he gave no indication of it. Viktor finished pouring the drink as they each slid onto a stool. He handed the drink to their guest before stepping back to the far side of the bar, busying himself with checking stock and glassware.

  “I thought we’d ride to the far side of the island and back. It’s a beautiful evening, the air is cooling and the stars are brilliant. Maybe two hours, depending on whether we stop to catch any views.”

  “Sounds grand.” Gerik took a sip of his drink. “I trust it won’t matter that I haven’t been on horseback for a few years now.”

  “Not at all. I have planned for you to be atop Shadow. He’s a strong gelding, but well reigned. Definitely a meek animal. I think you’ll enjoy him.”

  “Meek? How is a horse … ‘meek’?”

  Stefano chuckled softly. “Apologies, I tend to rate my horses as did the ancient Romans. They classified the best war horse as a meek animal – power under control. It is in later times that the word meek became … less than desirable.”

  “A history lesson as well as a fine ride? I hadn’t planned on being schooled.” He winked at Stefano.

  “If you have something you wish to learn, I will do my best to give thorough instruction,” countered the Lord of the Keep. Viktor barely raised his eyes to look at Stefano and grin before returning to his duties. Stefano finished the last sip of his cognac. “Are you ready then?”

  Gerik gulped down the last of his drink. “Let’s go. I’m eager to ride again.”

  Stefano headed for the door with Gerik but paused to look back at Viktor. “We will most likely wish a warm drink when we return, Viktor. I’ll let you dream up which to serve.”

  “As ye wish, m’Lord. I shall be prepared for your return.”

  Gerik’s eyes roamed the surrounding areas as they strolled down the small slope toward the stables. Stefano had contracted the building a few months prior and had the horses shipped in only a week earlier. The exception was his stallion, which he had brought to the island the minute the stables were ready.

  “Your lands are wonderful, Stef. I may call you Stef? Or would you prefer Stefano?” He laughed. “Or as my father would say, ‘the grand and noble Lord of the island’.”

  “Stef is fine … if it is just the two of us. I would not wish all the houses of Atterstock being so informal.”

  “Just the two of us it is, then.” Gerik grew quiet as they approached the large stables. Two liverymen walked out, each leading a horse. Gerik's mount was indeed a soft grey gelding, quiet in nature. Stefano’s stallion, however, almost pranced out, snorting as it danced side to side, as if it would bolt given half a chance. When the horses drew close, Stefano reached out his hand and gently stroked the horse’s forehead; it immediately quieted down.

  The men each mounted and started off in a gentle walk toward the top of the knoll. Once there, Stefano took the lead and moved the horses into an easy lope, allowing them to still converse. He took every chance to study Gerik, his poise in the saddle, the easy way he spoke, and the rhythmic rocking of his body as they moved.

  They rode along the eastern line of cliffs, the lights of the mainland in the distance. Gerik grinned at Stefano and asked, “This is good but I think we should try something a bit faster?”

  “Faster?”

  “Absolutely. Let’s race to the top of that far rise, just before it drops off. See how Shadow holds his own against … Stef, I don’t think you’ve told me your stallion’s name.”

  “I must have had something else on my mind. My apologies. My steed is ‘Zarchos’. And are you sure about this race idea?”

  “I’m sure.” Gerik spurred Shadow and gave him reign. The horse bolted, going into full gallop, head down, moving as if death itself was chasing.

  Stefano laughed softly, then leaned forward and whispered in Zarchos’ ear. The horse sprang into action, quickly catching up to the gelding, but staying just behind him. Stefano continued to watch the young man in front of him, lust dancing in his dark eyes.

  They rapidly approached an area of half-buried boulders, several yards shy of the cliffs. Each horse leapt gracefully over any obstruction in their path. Gerik glanced back to check on Stefano’s closeness just as Shadow made another jump. Beyond the rock outcropping, out of sight, was a small depression, which caught rider and steed off guard. Both went down hard, the horse almost somersaulting completely before it rolled to its side and stood again, shaking its head. Young Gerik, however, was not as quick to rise. He was thrown hard from the horse and landed on his back. Although he landed on the grass, luckily missing all rocks, it still managed to knock the wind from him.

  Stefano wrenched Zarchos to a stop and practically vaulted from the animal to Gerik’s side. He knelt slowly, peering into the man’s eyes, checking for awareness before he spoke.

  “That was an interesting way to finish.”

  “Too… interesting… I’m afraid. Help me sit up, please.”

  Stefano offered an arm, but allowed the other to use his own strength. Gerik sat there and rubbed the back of his head.

  “That was a sensation I shal
l not soon forget.”

  “I would think so. Can you ride?”

  “I hope so. I do not relish a walk back. Here, let me stand.”

  Gerik half stood before almost falling back to the ground. He grabbed Stefano’s arm and swore under his breath.

  “Then again … maybe not. My leg doesn’t seem to want to cooperate.” He moved it gingerly. “Hopefully not broken, but assuredly not able to hold my weight.”

  Stefano moved to the side and knelt. He slid one arm under the man’s thigh’s, the other supporting Gerik’s back as he stood, holding the man comfortably against him.

  “Then you won’t be walking. And I wouldn’t trust the ride either, so you shall have to go second class.” He laughed gently as he started the walk back across the grounds to the Keep. The horses remained as they were, both head-down and grazing.

  “You should just leave me here with Shadow and ride back for help.”

  “I am fine, and you are in safe hands. We won’t argue it. I am carrying you.”

  “Thank you”, Gerik whispered as he laid his head back against Stefano’s chest. His eyes closed as he relaxed in the other’s strong arms.

  It was almost another hour before they approached the Keep. Stefano called out to the liverymen as they passed the stables, informing them where the horses were and instructing them to bring the animals back. He then turned and walked up to the heavy paneled door, which the footman opened in enough time Stefano’s stride didn’t even slow. He walked over to one of the larger sofas near the fire and gently lowered Gerik to the cushions.

  “Viktor, send for Dr. Malway. Tell him Gerik has had a fall. I realize he is on the mainland, but I want him here within the hour. If not sooner. We need not tell Lord and Lady Falow anything until we know the severity of Gerik’s injuries.”

  “Yes, m’Lord.” Viktor grabbed a pad and jotted a quick note. He ducked his head into the kitchen and called a runner over to take the note. As he spoke, still in the kitchen doorway, his words were quiet, but the authority of his voice rang through. As he turned back to the room, he caught Stefano kneeling beside the sofa, brushing hair from Gerik’s forehead.

  “I am sorry for the fall. I didn’t realize the ground changed so quickly past the last outcropping.”

  “It’s my fault, Stef–fano.” He barely paused before finishing the other’s name. “I should have been more watchful of where we were headed.” He grinned mischievously before adding, “I just wanted to get your attention.”

  “You had my attention from the moment you arrived at Haven. And it is yours as long as you wish it.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against Gerik’s forehead. “Let me get you some brandy. It will help you relax until the doctor arrives.”

  Gerik reached up and lightly brushed Stefano’s cheek. “I am relaxed already. I doubt if it is a break, and I have never felt so … safe.” His eyes sparkled blue.

  Stefano smiled as shadows swirled deep in his own ebony pools.

  “You are always be safe with me … always.”