saint Sebastian the Rose

by Glover, Michael W.

  Father Donovan knew the night had become more complicated than he had originally thought, and he knew this was not the only bad news that would be shared. His turn was next.

  “In our existence we have been brought together to bear the burden of what we know. We are now in the midst of events that will bring down one house. Our house is one that has stood for the good of all; the other stands for the destruction and death, and we shall not bear it to be. Brothers, we share in this beautiful place, we share in a common goal, we share in this wonderful life, and I will ask you to share so that one may not leave us after giving so much.”

  The twins listened to the odd words the old monk was speaking, like some pronouncement before a coming doom. The scene was incredibly odd considering what should be important—the body of their friend lying on the floor near death, if not dead already.

  “Take him to the chapel and gather all who wish him well.” Father Donovan’s words moved everyone to silent action. Six monks came to Sebastian and bore him on their shoulders; they left the room with most following but for four of them--Father Donovan, Father Lemoine, and two others who had been with him the whole time.

  “May we go with him?” Jessica asked.

  “You may see him later, but for now we must see to it that you are safe. The night is not over, and we have already had too many tragedies. You are to stay with Father Lemoine at all times. Is that understood?”

  “We should get them outfitted,” Father Lemoine remarked to Father Donovan.

  “Outfitted?” Jacob asked.

  “We will want to give you some things that might come in handy in some situations that may arise,” Father Lemoine said. Jacobs’s eyes lit up, remembering something.

  “The cross and sword!” Jacob blurted out and turned, running up the stairs without a moment’s hesitation.

  “Jacob, wait!” Father Lemoine and the others took up the chase. This was not exactly what Father Donovan had in mind when he meant for them to stay with Father Lemoine from now on.

  Jacob was quick and no one could outpace him. He took the stairs three at a time.

  He made his way up the winding narrow steps. The night opened up in the great theatre of the sky, and he suddenly realized he was all alone when just seconds before he had been surrounded by people. For a second, he felt vulnerable, but there he stood in the middle of the tower.

  Within seconds the door flew open again, with Father Lemoine the first to exit. He was fully prepared for whatever might be there, armed and alert, sweeping his eyes over the area as the others made their way outside.

  Their anxiety quieted a little with the thankful sight of a roof devoid of any unwelcome visitors. With everything inspected, all looked at the scene that was there. Jacob was in the middle of the roof but was not alone—there to his right near the wall’s edge was the crucifix that had been flung to the side; near his feet was the rapier recognized by all for its fine craftsmanship. Jacob bent down and picked it up gingerly, slowly scrutinizing its fine detail. Inscribed down the length of the blade was the name he saw for the first time—it simply read, “Sebastian.”

  Then he looked to his left and they all followed his gaze. There was a large pool of blood and the marks of a body, which had lain in its center; just to its edge was the blade that had ruined all.

  The somber feel enveloped them, but beneath that was the electricity of an event that still lingered in the air. Father Donovan moved over to Jacob to take in the spot that held so much emotion and put his hand on his shoulder.

  “Why?” Jacob asked.

  “This is a night that reaches beyond why, for nights filled with tragedy do not respond to why. These things are beyond that.”

  Jacob’s mind was never at rest and picked up on what was not said in the old man’s comments. He also remembered what had been said inside the castle about tragedies. Everything was in plural. He turned to face him with a question unanswered.

  Father Donovan looked to Father Lemoine and he quickly set himself and his two wingmen to work making sure they were all still safe for a few moments. He then held out a hand to Jessica, bidding her to join them there in the center of the tower next to the spot of their fallen friend. Jacob was hard at work trying to piece together the sequence of events as he had remembered them.

  “Why was everyone in such hysteria? No one knew what had happened until we came down, but it was like they knew already.”

  “Things were already in motion, I’m afraid, even before we knew what was transpiring above. The night has seen the loss of others in our humble house.” Father Donovan’s words came down on them, bringing to light more serious events. “We found one of our brothers; he was beyond our care.”

  “Who was he?” Jessica was truly concerned.

  “His name was Father Jonus. He worked with Father Lemoine and was performing his duties when the attack came, we believe. He was a brave man and died in his task.”

  “What was he doing?” Jacob asked.

  Father Donovan prepared himself as he had done many times in his life, ready to be the deliverer of bad news, the only part of his job he had never enjoyed.

  “He was set to be a guard for the library.” This was all Father Donovan could muster at first. Knowing he could not beat around the bush forever and knowing the minds of the twins would not come to a conclusion that would be so traumatic on their own, he took a great breath to settle himself.

  “He was there to stand guard over your father.”

  Jacob’s face remained stoic while Jessica’s flashed with desperation. Father Donovan measured both of them and knew this was only the beginning.

  “Where is he?” Jessica yelled. Father Donovan tried to comfort her. She fell into his arms, and he held her.

  Jacob walked around, holding the sword in the light and then placing it in his belt while making his way over to the crucifix and retrieving it as well. From there he went over to the short sword and considered the weapon before grabbing the ivory handle cautiously, like the thing might be possessed.

  As he bent over to retrieve the wicked blade he also noticed a small object propped against the wall. It was a little book that was so weathered the binding blended into the wall, like it was meant to be there.

  Jessica seemed no better for the care she was receiving from Father Donovan. He held her in hopes of absorbing some of the pain; all the while he watched as Jacob made his rounds collecting the items that had taken such prominent places in tonight’s events. He knew Jacob felt the pain no less than his sister but was merely working with it the best way he knew how.

  Jacob made his way back toward Father Donovan and side-glanced at Father Lemoine who watched him intently and with great remorse, but also with respect.

  “Why him?”

  “I believe your father had come to find out some of the information we had been looking for, or at least they believe he has some information that will be useful to them. That is why they have taken him,” Father Donovan said.

  “They have taken him. You do not believe they have killed him, or he would have been found with the other monk. Because he may have information they want, he may still be alive?”

  Father Donovan shook his head gently not wanting to give the wrong impression.

  “Make no mistake: I do not hold out much hope your father is still alive.”

  The words came as no support for Jacob’s thoughts, and he knew Father Donovan was not trying to be cruel but only trying to speak truthfully. Jessica had always been her father’s happy little angel; her face now displayed a very different expression. That quiet inner strength one always knew was there now seemed to find its face and its resolve.

  “What can we do?”

  chapter TWENTY-THREE

  FATHER DONOVAN WAS MAKING HIS WAY down the corridors of the monastery; his destination was one of fear and hope. Never could he have foreseen the events that would lead him to this place for such an event. He hoped he hadn’t been alone coming to the chapel, and h
e felt sure that he wasn’t.

  He entered to find candles lit everywhere; they were at the feet of every statue gracing the walls of this unique place. But it was not the candles bringing warmth to his heart—only the gathering of the monks filling the pews could do that. There they knelt in silent prayer. The entire monastery had shown up, except those who were commissioned for other tasks.

  Father Donovan entered and put his hand in the holy water font by the door but found the well empty. These never had any in them, he knew, but the habit was there and hard to shake.

  Everyone turned to see their mentor enter but quickly turned their attention back to the center of the room. Father Donovan saw the body laid out over the altar like a biblical sacrifice. How he pondered that thought, for surely Sebastian had sacrificed so much. Would even he who seemed damned be graced? This was something he debated over and over, but it would not be this night; he would not give up his beloved friend to find out the answer to that question tonight.

  Sebastian had been a resident here in the Lonely Tower longer than any of them, longer than most of them combined; this was his home, and this was his chapel: a chapel with no windows to let in the light that would burn him to a cinder if he dared to enter it, and no holy water that would melt his flesh if he attempted to touch it.

  The subtle beauty of the place was amazing, for it was truly like being in the company of heaven’s heroes. The saints lined the walls one after another, carved in the rich wood with such care. Never before had he seen such an assembly, either by number or sublime beauty. The one who carved these must surely be blessed with grace to have created such an attraction. And he knew he was, for he knew his friend well, better than anyone here. Sebastian was a one of a kind.

  Father Donovan made his way to the front and past the altar to stand near Sebastian.

  “We gather here together to pay respect to one of our own, to acknowledge the life we all have shared. I don’t doubt for an instant there is not one of us who would say we are not blessed in some way for our love of our brother.

  “Sebastian has never asked any of us for much and that includes me, for I have known him longer than anyone.

  “There have been a few who have quietly helped him at times. They have done so anonymously, and that is the way. They have given to him when he would not ask. Now is the time for us all to give to the one who would not ask, for the life that would be denied.

  “I ask all of you to follow my lead and share. Follow me into the confessional and there you may or may not give, if that is your decision, and you shall remain anonymous as to your choice.”

  Father Donovan walked over to the curtained confessional. There he knelt down and located the slot and placed his hand inside. When he had properly placed his right hand he reached for a handle, grasping it tightly and brought it down quickly. A sharp pain went up his arm as the puncture was made. There he sat as the blood came from him and collected below. After enough time had passed he pressed a bandage over his wrist and came through the curtain to find everyone in line waiting their turn.

  One by one they entered, then emerged with bandages on their wrist that shown red with blood. Little by little the blood was given to Sebastian. Sebastian’s body had lain very still for such a long time all who were present thought him surely to be dead and beyond any help. There they all knelt in silent prayer for something they could barely understand.

  The sound of doors opening was the only thing that disturbed the serenity of the chapel. All in attendance turned to watch the entrance of Father Lemoine and company, Jacob and Jessica. He guided them in and closed the doors behind them, keeping his two other friends at the doors to stand guard.

  Jacob and Jessica looked around and felt the heavy emotion in the room. They had been in here before, but the chapel appeared different now. Before, the room had been very dark, and the detail was hard to make out. Now, the whole magnificence came across even in the dim light of the candles but that seemed fitting, for the candles did the chapel justice, actually bringing to life the figures that had been carved out of wood. Yes, no other lighting would suffice. How things take on a completely different complexion when seen for what they really are. Before, the chapel had appeared to be an almost frightening place, but that was truly a mistake.

  When they found Father Donovan, he motioned for them to sit beside him. They sat without even looking because their eyes were fixed on the altar where Sebastian lay still. The twins knelt next to Father Donovan as he prayed.

  After some time Jessica looked at him. She didn’t want to interrupt but could not for the life of her keep quiet.

  “I can’t stay in here. I need to be somewhere else, I can’t … I …”

  Father Donovan could sense the conflict in her. She of course wanted to be here, but her emotions were surely getting the best of her. He understood she needed some time alone. He looked at Jacob and nodded for him to accompany her out of the chapel. Likewise, he looked at Father Lemoine, who was still standing in the rear of the chapel; they were to go nowhere without him.

  The twins stood up and turned out of the pew, walking past the monks toward the doors. They did not really know where they were to go; they simply knew that here and now was not the place. Reaching the door, Father Lemoine once again took custody of the twins.

  The silence was broken and could not have been more jarring than if someone had dropped a glass on the stone floor. From behind them a gasp was heard, like someone drowning coming up for their first breath of air. They turned on a dime and the image was extremely unsettling: there upon the altar, Sebastian was sitting upright, with one hand clutching his chest. He turned his head to survey his whereabouts and there struck the sight the twins would not soon forget, for Sebastian’s eyes were lit like great icy fires.

  Among the collected gasps were a few quick prayers being offered up, but nothing topped the shock on the faces of the twins. There was a mixture of disbelief, happiness, confusion, and finally realization. They looked around the room and saw Father Donovan watching them. Sebastian himself looked down to his chest, remembering there had been a blade protruding there.

  With more of his wits about him he looked back at his surroundings and found Jacob and Jessica. Sebastian got up and started to walk toward the twins, but as he moved Jessica ran from the chapel with Jacob in pursuit, followed by their personal guards. Father Donovan went to Sebastian and held his shoulders in his hands and smiled.

  “I thought we had lost you. I hope you don’t mind but we didn’t think it was your time.”

  “No, I don’t mind; not now. There will be a time, and I hope I’m ready, but not tonight.” Sebastian’s eyes had gone back to their normal state, and he felt much better.

  “I don’t know what to say to them. I feel like a kid again, having to explain a great secret and not knowing how.”

  Father Donovan smiled at his friend who had taught him so much over the years and thought about how sometimes he got to teach him something.

  “They may not understand, but they will forgive. That is what friends do. That is the most admirable trait in friends. Sometimes we do things that may hurt each other, but they are inconsequential in importance to the friendship itself.”

  “They have had a rough night. I don’t know if they can stand anymore. I don’t know if I can put more on them,” Sebastian said, knowing difficult conversations lay ahead. Father Donovan took in a great breath, knowing Sebastian still did not know the full details.

  “I am afraid there is more to tell, and the news does not get much better.” Father Donovan quickly recounted to him the other terrible news of Thomas Ridgeway and their fallen brother. Sebastian made his way out of the chapel; he left with his heart full of love for the brothers who had reminded him he was one of them.

  chapter TWENTY-FOUR

  JESSICA MADE HER WAY in the castle, wanting desperately to escape the confines of its walls, but every time she made for an exit she told herself she couldn’t go outside … not
yet, not in the dark. Of course it didn’t help that her brother would be just behind her to throw his hand on any door she attempted to exit. Father Lemoine and party kept them in their sights but also kept a distance.

  Finally arriving at the study, Jessica found something she could lean on and look at to take her mind off of all that she was thinking about. The hearth of the fireplace seemed to be a point of thought and introspection; surely the fire there did take one’s mind off things that were moving too fast.

  Jacob was glad his sister had finally given up the race and seemed at peace. He sat down in one of the large comfortable chairs and leaned his head back to stare at something himself—the ceiling. He smiled a little to himself and gave a small chuckle. His sister caught this and looked his way, wondering what in the world could be so funny. Knowing he was being more than observed, he was also being judged, he turned to meet his extremely confused sister’s face.

  “We know a vampire!” Jacob smiled even more broadly at the complete hilarity of the thought. He also wondered how he had anything left in him to laugh, considering the night’s events and their own personal loss; life is strange that way, and he knew his moment would come and there would be no more laughing. Jessica raised her eyebrows at the lightness with which her brother was taking this new bit of news, if it was true.

  “That is what you have to say about this? You think it’s funny? That is, of course, if that is what he is?”

  “Well, how else would you explain it then, Sis? It explains everything! Have you ever seen him out in the day?” Jacob knew he was going to have to make her believe it; she was the scientist of the bunch and he was the literary adventurer who believed without empirical evidence.

  “Of course I have seen him out in the day every day we have been here; he sits out in the courtyard.”

  “Ahh, yes, but that’s always before sunrise and after sunset,” Jacob argued.