The Death Wish

by Jules Marks

  Nordz sighed and rolled his eyes. “It is no use, Gael.”

  I took his hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “We shall see. Now, I am a stranger to this castle, and you know more about the people herein than anyone else. While we wait for Meren’s return, why don’t you tell me whom you would suspect in Baldrig’s murder?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I came away from Nordz’ room with plenty of information, but I was, if anything, more confused than ever regarding what might have happened to Lord Halwick.

  Nordz had given me several scenarios regarding who the murderer could be, and with each suggestion, he made a disclaimer, adding something to the effect that there were other circumstances that might mitigate the possibility that said person was the killer.

  True, I was not familiar with the intrigues of Beckman. But then again, I had never allowed myself to be part of such affairs at Llewellan, either. I reasoned that honest men had no need of such intrigues and politics. Therefore, Nordz’ suggestions regarding whom the murderer might be held no real meaning for me: I was unfamiliar with everyone he mentioned. I determined that the resolution of that particular problem must be left to those people familiar with it; my immediate concern was Nordz’ welfare, and I was determined to find Ioan to enlist his aid.

  When I asked the Steward if he’d seen Ioan, he scratched at his nose and looked at me as if I was a nuisance. He knew not where Ioan might be, but he’d seen Sir Hugh leave earlier and he hadn’t been with him at that time. That news didn’t leave me many options, and the only one I could think of was that Ioan might be with one or both of our hosts. When I asked to see either Akimba or Rebeccah, the steward gave me a look that told me I should keep my place. Still, he’d observed the favor shown me by Akimba and Rebeccah, so he kept his thoughts to himself and directed me to Rebeccah’s reception rooms.

  A kindly, middle-aged waiting woman showed me to a bench near a window with a view of the garden below. She left, and I waited several minutes until Rebeccah appeared.

  She was dressed in finely cut, feminine attire; one would never know that she’s spent the previous night out killing the enemy. She seated herself in a chair opposite my place by the window, and the light from the grisaille glass made patterns on the rich fabric of her dress. She looked better, as if she had rested awhile, but she still had dark circles beneath her eyes, and her furrowed brow gave some small indication of the headache she must surely be experiencing.

  “So, Gael, did you get some sleep?”

  “Thank you, Lady Rebeccah, I did. And you?”

  “I rested a bit. I was just preparing to go check on Nordz. Have you seen him?”

  I proceeded to tell her what I knew of Nordz’ condition, and then told her of my plan to enlist Ioan’s aid with some of his herbal concoctions.

  “I certainly hope that the two of you can help him.” She lightly touched at her head. “Nordz should be in good hands: Ioan seems to have done a fine job stitching me up.”

  “We haven’t known one another for long, but we’ve already stitched one another up twice. He has the healer’s hands.”

  “Yes, I suppose he does.” She frowned, and looked down at her own hands. “But, Gael, when we were fighting the Uplanders he was so…” She sighed and bit her lip before continuing: “Is Ioan always so ferocious in battle?” She looked decidedly uneasy as she asked me the question.

  “Ahh, so you noticed?”

  She nodded, and I leaned back against the wall, taking a moment to decide what to say.

  “How much do you know of Ioan’s history…of his childhood?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Very little. I know that he was orphaned when quite young, that one of my father’s kin kept him until he was grown.”

  I exhaled to stall for time. “Well, you two need to speak of this. It is not my place to tell you about Ioan’s past…I know precious little myself…but what happened to his family lo those many years ago still affects him…especially in a fight.” I held up a palm. “That’s all I can say on the matter; you need to ask Ioan.”

  Satisfied for the moment, Rebeccah appeared thoughtful. “He is an interesting man,” she mused.

  I couldn’t resist encouraging her a bit. “I believe he has voiced similar thoughts about you, Lady.”

  She smiled like a young maid, and reached across the space between us to take my hand. “Truly?”

  I nodded in response. We spoke a bit about Ioan for a few minutes, and then I decided that it was time to search out the subject of our conversation so that I consult with him about the herbs. When I mentioned that I needed to find Ioan, Rebeccah was able to assist me.

  “He is with Akimba. They are investigating a mysterious death that occurred while we were gone.”

  “I’ve heard of it,” I told her. “You see, Lady Rebeccah, when I was visiting Nordz, he told me of Baldrig’s death. Nordz was sorely concerned that this death is murder…” I paused, because she was waving her hand for me to stop.

  “I know. Baldrig was left-handed.” She sighed. “There’s simply too much to deal with. I thought all along that the man was lying when we questioned him. Baldrig acted suspicious, as if he knew something he couldn’t or wouldn’t tell us. Akimba assumed that he was merely overwrought because of his feelings for Father, but I tell you, Gael, the man was not just upset; he was afraid. At the time I assumed he as fearful because I was interrogating him, but now I see that he knew something that made him fear for his life. Now that knowledge, whatever it was, has died with Baldrig, and I doubt that we’ll ever know what happened.”

  “Has his room been thoroughly searched?” I asked.

  She nodded. “They found nothing telling.” She put her fingertips to her temple and rubbed as she frowned. “Oh, I wish that I had killed that fiend before he hit me and not after.”

  “That, dear Lady, is a familiar lament.” I stood and bowed: it was easier to do with Rebeccah than it had been with Akimba; in fact, it seemed almost natural considering the respect I held for her.

  “I should find Ioan,” I said. “Nordz needs attending to.”

  Rebeccah agreed. “Yes, by all means, I want you to try anything you may to save him.” She, too, stood and then gestured towards the door. “Go tell the Steward that I said you need to see Akimba. He will show you the way.”

  The Steward did show himself useful, but not by directing me to Akimba’s chambers. Instead, he informed me that Ioan and Akimba had parted company: Akimba had gone to interrogate the Uplanders, and Ioan had said he’d be returning to his rooms. I thanked the Steward with more graciousness than his surly conduct deserved, and then headed back to Sir Hugh’s apartments.

  Not wanting to wake Larkin, I entered quietly, and I found that someone shared my sentiments. Ioan, too, had entered without disturbing the sleeping boy, and I found him standing over Larkin. He was fingering the lad’s curls…I’d noticed it was a habit that we all seemed to share…and the sentimental look on his face must have been mirrored in my own because when he looked over at me, he smiled. I gestured for him to come with me to the outer chamber, where we closed the door so that we might speak without waking Larkin.

  “He had a hard night,” said Ioan.

  “That he did,” I replied as we sat together on one of the benches at the table.

  “Harder than you know,” added Ioan.

  “How so?”

  When Ioan looked me in the eyes, I saw yet another change in his own. Earlier, they’d been sapphire blue, but now they’d turned misty blue/gray; they looked like the faded eyes of an ancient.

  He explained. “Just before dawn…you were with Nordz at the time…it, the aftermath of battle, that is, hit Larkin full in the face. He realized that he’d actually killed another human, more than one, in all probability. I found him crying, and asked if he was hurting. He told me that yes, he was in pain, but not so much from his wounds.”

  “But we were justified! The skeletons in that cave…” I sputtered, even as Ioan raise
d a palm to stop me.

  “I know…and Larkin agreed that we were in the right. Still, Gael, don’t you remember the first time you killed someone? Has it been that long ago for you?”

  I thought back to my first battle. I’d been fourteen at the time. I’d fought hard, done well, Lord Denholm had been proud…and I’d been so full of remorse that I’d vomited and then dry-heaved all night long.

  My expression must have reflected that memory, for Ioan didn’t pursue the question. Instead, I asked one of him.

  “Did you talk to him, then? Were you able to find words to help?”

  Ioan sighed, and looked away, out the window. “I tried, but I don’t think it meant much to him…coming from me, that is. He’d seen me fight; he acted a bit scared of me, as if what caused me to behave that way might be contagious.” Ioan bowed his head and looked at his idle hands. “If an opportunity arises, I hope you’ll speak to him. He respects you so much, and he needs to resolve this conflict in his mind before he goes into another battle. I don’t like the idea of his hesitating in a fight; he needs to be told not to think too much about it. Will you speak with him, Gael?”

  “Of course I will, Ioan. You know I will.” I sighed, wishing there was something I could say that would ease Ioan’s own pain. I considered that ministering to another’s needs seemed to help, so I brought up the subject of Nordz’ signs of infection.

  “Have they tried any melaleuca alternifolia…or rosemary and myrrh?” he asked.

  “I don’t know…I doubt it; I wouldn’t have thought to use them. Do you carry any in your pouch?”

  He nodded. “Yes, certainly. I’ll just slip back in there and get some, and we’ll take it to him.”

  As we were leaving, we met Hugh coming down the hallway. He looked exceptionally tired…or dispirited. I couldn’t tell which.

  “Where are you off to, then?” he asked.

  We explained our mission to aid Nordz.

  “I was looking for you earlier,” said Ioan.

  Hugh looked down at the floor. “I was in the chapel,” he mumbled in explanation. “…For all it was worth,” he added.

  Ioan and I exchanged significant looks of concern.

  “Before you left…did you sleep at all?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Perhaps I’ll rest before supper.”

  “You do that,” said Ioan. “Akimba will need you later. He is with several of his commanders now; tonight he wants your counsel regarding the Uplanders.”

  <><><>

  That evening, we had a quiet supper in Sir Hugh’s outer room. We were a decidedly subdued party, in spite of the fact that we were served the best meal we’d had since our arrival at Castle Beckman. I know for a fact that Ioan and I were both worried about Nordz’ deteriorating condition; Sir Hugh may have been agonizing over his on-going life-or-death dilemma; Larkin was hardly eating; he was definitely in a funk, though he seemed to be trying to behave normally, especially to Sir Hugh. Twice during the course of the meal, Larkin broke the leaden silence and again thanked Hugh for the dagger, and both times Hugh acknowledged those thanks with quiet assurances to Larkin that he had ‘earned’ the gift.

  Larkin couldn’t seem to let it go. When most of us were finishing our meal, he brought up the subject once again.

  “I wonder if young Uplanders are given gifts when they’ve made their first kill? Do you think they receive a token? Consider their eating habits: perhaps they’re simply given the choicest cuts of their enemy.”

  To a man, we looked at him in shock. Larkin’s face was pale and grim; his sparkling eyes darted from one man to the next.

  “Do you suppose that is what happens?” he persisted. “Do they say, ‘Congratulations, boy! Fine job! Here…have a leg to celebrate!’” He bit his lip, and then spoke again. “Do you think they do something like that?”

  Hugh placed both palms on the table and leaned forward a bit. “Larkin, did I offend you in some way by giving you the dagger?”

  Larkin shook his head and looked down at the table.

  “No, it’s not that. I’m truly grateful for the gift. It’s just that…I do not understand how you can all be so calm about this.” He paused long enough to rub at his temples. “At first, after we’d beaten them, I was happy…exhilarated, even. We had survived…all of our band had survived, and I felt good to have been a part of it. But when I actually began walking around, and I looked at all those bodies, those hacked-off limbs, all of that blood and pain and death, I just didn’t understand…” He held up a hand to stop the interruptions he expected. “I know that we were in the right, that our cause was just and good. But for some of you…” Here he darted a glance at Ioan. “…This is so easy for you…the killing, I mean…and now, after this afternoon’s rest, I do not understand how I am to go to sleep at night, how I’m going to bear to see those faces, those bloody, lifeless men that I killed. I’ve met them in my dreams!”

  Finally, he allowed himself a gasping sob; he lowered his head and covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

  At first we all seemed to have turned to stone. We remained motionless; no one seemed to know what to do. Ioan moved first. He stood up, and for just one moment, his weary posture and pained expression made him look like the ancient he was. He looked at me, and with a nod of his head in Larkin’s direction, he indicated that I was the one who would stay and speak to him. He then turned to Sir Hugh, and beckoned Hugh follow him from the room into the hall.

  The door closed. I supposed that was my cue to begin speaking, but first I moved to Larkin’s side, and I placed my arm around his slender shoulders and gave him an affectionate hug.

  Larkin had always been a good listener, and that didn’t change. I spoke to him for a long time, and he was ever attentive. I told him of my own first battle; I described my reaction to subsequent fights over the decades; I reminisced on the elation a man feels when he has successfully defends his home keep, when he has helped save the lives of his family and friends. I was honest with him regarding how terribly cheap life was, that it was a sad truth that we all had to confront. Nevertheless, I reminded him of the soldier’s truest virtue: when he knowingly risks his own life to save the life of a friend, a brother at arms. I reminded him of the brotherhood we all had together, and how sharing and surviving the same dangers brought us even closer. There was no point in telling him lies regarding the nightmares: we all had them at one time or another, and I told him this. Those nightmares were part and parcel of the price we paid after we defended our families, our friends, and our homes. The living nightmare of what would happen if we refused to fight would be infinitely worse. We had to fight to avoid that happening.

  I went on to tell him that if he had more nightmares, he should wake me…or any of the others. We any of us would all be willing to talk with him.

  He looked at me, his expression passing mournful. “What of Ioan? How can he understand? He seems to enjoy killing…and he’s certainly better at it than the rest of us.”

  Unlike Rebeccah, Larkin needed a ready explanation. I told him of Ioan’s past, of the rapes and murders he had witnessed at such a painfully early age.

  “You see, Larkin, Ioan is passionate about fighting evil. When he’s in a battle, he sees the opportunity to keep wicked men from doing to his friends that sort of wrong that was done to his family. He is willing to sacrifice himself for his friends, and he throws himself into the fray, risking all to save the lives of others. He is fearless in battle, because he cares not for himself: his passion for justice becomes battle lust. Do you understand what I mean by that?”

  Larkin frowned, but nodded his head. “I think so. When we were in the thick of the fight, I quit worrying about getting hurt…or doing something stupid that would make you ashamed of me. It’s actually a bit hazy after that; I simply acted on instinct.”

  “Yes, that’s it! Ioan feels it more acutely than the rest of us, and he is the best swordsman. Of course he seems lethal…but aren’
t you glad he’s on our side?”

  Larkin raised his eyebrows and grimaced. “If he wasn’t, I would already be dead.”

  “As would I,” I agreed. “Larkin, don’t we owe it to him to try and understand what moves him to act thus?”

  Larkin nodded. “Now I am sorry that I thought ill of him.”

  “Worry not on that, Lad. Ioan understands: it bothers him, as well.”

  “Truly?”

  I nodded. “Now, does this all make more sense…do you think you can forgive your friends for being hardened, blood-thirsty old warriors?”

  First he smiled, and then he nodded. “I’m sorry to be such a bother; now I feel such a fool!”

  “Don’t even start that. We’ve all been where you are now and, to a man, we needed others to support us when we suffered similar doubts. You’re doing fine, Larkin, just fine.”