The Baron's Gargoyle

by Cassandra Pierce

  Delphas stood beside the steaming tub and held out both of his hands. “May I help you disrobe, my lord?”

  Jothan hesitated. He was more than capable of removing the cloak on his own, of course. Was this not the way the trouble had started at the palace? A touch from a comely man, a deceptively innocent question. And this time, the man was his servant.

  He opened his mouth to refuse and send Delphas away. Then he paused and entered the room. He looked down at the water and turned his back to Delphas, extending his arms at his sides.

  “Very well.”

  Delphas slid the cloak from his shoulders, and Jothan heard him Delphas draw in a breath of admiration. Few men had seen him entirely naked, but those who had always expressed their appreciation for his battle-hardened figure.

  “These muscles were honed from swinging a broadsword in service to the king,” he said, flexing his biceps a bit. “What think you of them?”

  Jothan looked over his shoulder. He watched Delphas’s face for any sign of treason at the mention of the king, since such emotions were not unknown in these remote lands. To his relief, he detected nothing amiss.

  “I think it is an honor to serve a man of strength, my lord,” Delphas said, lowering his head in respect as he folded the cloak over arm.

  “’Tis. I hope you feel the same about serving me.”

  “I do, my lord.” Again the answer came out calm and noncommittal. Reassured as to Delphas’s allegiance, Jothan next found himself wondering about the parts of Delphas’s body he couldn’t see beneath the modest tunic and brown wool leggings. The way he carried the tub and the pails suggested he had built up his strength as well. Jothan would not have minded testing that strength through another sort of hard work, not necessarily related to the battlefield.

  Somewhat shaken by the direction of his thoughts, Jothan strode in his natural state toward the tub. He did not look back this time, but he felt Delphas’s gaze burning against his bare skin as he settled himself into the water. The steam rose to his nostrils, its scent as strong and refreshing as a walk through a sunlit garden.

  “With what did you scent this?” he asked, inhaling the fragrance with pleasure.

  “’Tis a concoction of certain dried flowers and herbs, my lord,” Delphas said. “I assumed your lordship would find it soothing.”

  “Indeed I do,” Jothan agreed. Now that he was settled, he expected Delphas to take his leave so that he could wash in private. Instead, he remained where he was, watching Jothan lean back in the warm water and soak away days of filth, despair, and exhaustion. The fire snapped and flared as it gained in strength, warming the room and his bare skin. Delighted with these simple pleasures, Jothan closed his eyes.

  He wasn’t sure how long he drifted off in pleasant thoughts, half-asleep and half-awake. The next thing he knew, the bath was cooler and the room had grown darker. Delphas remained beside him, arms folded, instantly alert to Jothan’s waking.

  “May I help your lordship out of the water now?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes.” With a bit of an effort, Jothan rose as Delphas stepped forward with a drying cloth and wrapped it around him. “That was most restful. Your herbs have restored me.”

  “I am most glad to hear it, my lord.”

  Jothan flexed his arms. “Tomorrow may be a different matter, though. I expect to wake up feeling every bump in the road and every jolt of the saddle preserved in my poor limbs.”

  “If I could make a suggestion, my lord—I once learned a technique to soothe a knight’s tired muscles after a tournament or battle. It might prove beneficial after your long journey as well.”

  “I daresay it might.” Jothan nodded, though he recognized another foray into dangerous territory. His suspicions were confirmed when Delphas motioned him back into his bedchamber and indicated that he should stretch out on the bed. Removing the drying cloth, Jothan patted himself down with it so as not to drip water on the bedding. He left it crumpled on the floor and stretched out on his stomach.

  He was grateful that his position helped hide his obvious arousal as Delphas stepped behind him and began to rub his shoulders, back, and arms with firm hands and steady finger-strokes.

  As he drifted into a more peaceful state of mind, Jothan found that one thing still troubled him. He had not intended to speak of it, but something about Delphas inspired his trust. And he did not worry that Delphas would think him mad.

  Jothan chose his words carefully. “Delphas, I must ask you a question. Have you seen, or heard tales of, monsters in these lands?”

  “Monsters come in many shapes, my lord.” Delphas’s hands went still on Jothan’s back for a moment, then continued rubbing.

  “What about one that resembles a man, but of far greater stature, and bearing itself on silver wings. I saw it twice—once at the drawbridge, when I entered this place, and again on the tower. ’Twas hideous to behold, but I am not sure anyone saw it but I.”

  “Then perhaps it follows you for some specific reason.”

  “Reason?” Jothan snapped, turning his head to look up at Delphas, whose face remained impassive. “What could that be?”

  “I am sure I know not, my lord.” Delphas shrugged went back to rubbing Jothan’s skin.

  Jothan grumbled. Delphas knew something more, he was certain. Yet he obviously had no intention of revealing it.

  They would speak of it again, Jothan vowed. But for now, the flesh between Jothan’s legs had become too aroused, and his blood was growing too hot to bear. He lifted his arms and slid away from Delphas’s touch. “Enough. I am ready to sleep now.”

  “Of course.” Delphas stepped back. “Shall I turn down your bedding?”

  Jothan’s heart squeezed. It was the same sense of danger he felt in battle when an enemy knight was approaching him from behind, mace raised. In battle, he could parry and hold out his shield. Here, he had no such shield. His emotions felt raw and as exposed as his body.

  “No. You may go,” he said, more gruffly than needed. Delphas but bowed and withdrew without protest.

  Alone again, Jothan curled into the blankets. Once on the brink of peaceful oblivion, he now found himself tormented by memories of the creature outside and, at the other extreme, by visions of what Delphas’s body would feel like entwined with his in the bed. Pushing such dangerous thoughts away, he willed himself to fall asleep

  He had just drifted off when a shriek of woman’s laughter roused him. One of his new servants, he thought with annoyance, a cheeky wench used to having the run of the place. That would end now that this was to be his private chamber.

  Yet, when he heard it again, he realized it did not sound like any woman’s laughter he had ever heard before. It seemed to come from somewhere deep in the center of the castle—perhaps issuing all the way from Hell itself.

  Chapter 3

  The following day, Jothan decided to spend some more time exploring the castle and forming a plan to reinvigorate it. He was particularly interested in visiting the tower where the strange creature had perched on the day of his arrival. Now that he had rested, he desired to know whether his mind would remain free of such disturbing visions.

  At the same time, he reasoned, he could survey the surrounding territory and plan a defense system. For now, he would have to make do with the men who already lived within these walls. Though this did not seem a promising prospect, he thought one man in particular could become a fine guard with the appropriate training. The man in question might also have valuable knowledge concerning the types of invaders and enemies they were likely to face in this remote territory. And, with his strength and Jothan’s combined, they might at last be able to pull up the drawbridge.

  He found Rulf in the courtyard, sweeping up dirt and rubble with a dilapidated broom made of twigs. Jothan pointed to the area in question.

  “I wish to inspect that turret,” he announced. “I should like Delphas to accompany me. Know you where I might find him this morning?”

  “Delphas
?” Rulf blinked.

  “Yes. You should have told me about him, you know, when I asked if there were any others. Still, he is a bit of a slippery eel, so I shall overlook it this once. From now on, you must be more forthright with me.”

  Rulf’s eyes registered confusion. “I mean no disrespect, my lord…but who is Delphas?”

  “You do not know him?” Jothan frowned. Had Delphas given him a false name? “He is a young man, dark of hair, with eyes the color of daybreak,” he explained a bit impatiently. “He brought me firewood and prepared my bath last night. I assumed you had told him where to find me.”

  “Indeed ’twas not I, my lord.” Rulf bowed low, sensing Jothan’s annoyance and fearful of being punished. “I will ask the women, but I am afraid I know not of what man you speak.”

  Jothan snorted. He had not considered the possibility that the young man had been anything but another of the displaced peasants. Now it seemed he might be something more dangerous—a spy, perhaps, from a neighboring settlement? No wonder his body had been so thick with sinew and his eyes so bright with near-defiance. Had the woman’s laughter in the corridor belonged to someone who had stolen into the castle with him? Jothan was surprised when not just anger, but a stab of jealousy as well, rippled through his body.

  Yet Delphas had not killed Jothan when he’d had the chance. How simple it would have been for him to wrap his hands around Jothan’s neck and push him under the bath water, or plunge a dagger between his shoulder blades while he dozed in the warmth of the hearth. He could even have lulled Jothan into sleep and set the bed on fire. None of these things had come to pass. What had his purpose been, then?

  Or was Rulf simply confused due to his advanced age?

  With some hesitation, Rulf showed him the entrance to the tower in question when Jothan asked again. Jothan trudged up a long spiral staircase, constructed of uneven stone to slow down invaders, cautious of worn or loose steps that could easily send him plummeting downward to injury or even death.

  The tower itself opened onto a wall walk that stretched all the way to the opposite turret, enabling guards to patrol between them. Jothan used one hand to pull his cloak around himself when a chilly wind swirled around him. He kept the other on the hilt of his sword as he proceeded along the walk, casting his eyes on the lands below but mindful of gaps in the stonework.

  All were his lands now, he thought with a mixture of trepidation and pride. Beyond the moat, the land grew lush and thick with vegetation, even in this rugged clime. Dense forest stretched out on all sides, spectacular to behold. Great trees reached toward the sky, some standing almost as tall as the tower itself. A few small patches had been cleared, the wood no doubt taken for building and fire-fuel, but plenty more remained. Here were the raw materials to build and sustain not just a castle, but an entire village, if only they could harness the resources and survive long enough to make use of them.

  As he watched, a herd of deer wandered from the forest and bent to drink at the edge of the moat. Jothan’s stomach surged as he imagined a platter of rich venison at his table one night soon. If Delphas could not be found, or could not be proved trustworthy, he would bring Walter along to assist him in a hunt.

  As if sensing his interest, the deer looked up in unison, their bodies tensing with alarm. A moment later, they bolted, disappearing into the woods in a blur of red and brown. Jothan wondered what had startled them until he heard the rasp of flapping wings behind him.

  He spun and saw the creature. It stood no more than an arm’s reach away, gazing at him with those fierce black eyes. Jothan’s fingers curled tighter around his sword hilt. Yet he did not draw the blade. Something told him to hold back.

  The creature made no move to attack him. Instead, it stared as though trying to understand him. Its head even tilted a bit, the thick tongue curling towards its snub nose and its lumpy brow creasing. Surely this beast was not capable of rational thought—yet it sized him up like a knight in a tournament. Though a beast, it seemed more human than monster.

  “Have you an understanding of language?” he called to it, raising his voice to be heard above the wind. “Do you speak?”

  In response, the creature unleashed a curious groaning. The sound was horrid to his ears and sent a tremor through his limbs, yet it frightened him not. It sounded as though the creature’s tongue was attempting to form a human word, yet failing.

  “This castle is mine now,” Jothan continued. “I mean you no harm, but I cannot share it with you. We do not have sufficient resources to support you, and your presence will frighten my servants. It is my plan to restore and populate this castle, and I fear you will prove an impediment to that goal.”

  Jothan watched the grey scales on the beast’s throat vibrate as it emitted a low growl. Was it responding to his speech in the affirmative, or warning him away? Swallowing, he continued.

  “I ask that you leave this place without injuring those who dwell here. There are no doubt many other places you may make a home for yourself in the forest. There you shall be safe and free, and I promise we shall not pursue or torment you. If you accept my terms, raise and lower your wings once.”

  The creature’s growl deepened, and its knobby shoulders rolled. The folded wings lifted and rubbed together, as a man might rub his hands while deep in thought. Before Jothan could figure out what to make of the gesture, the beast drew itself up to its full height, stretched both massive limbs out as far as they would reach, and hurled itself from the wall. Stunned, Jothan watched it fall about halfway to the ground before it caught the wind and sailed off into the forest.

  He stood motionless for a while, exhaling as the fear he had not dared acknowledge melted from his body. In his service to the king, he had traveled to many foreign lands and fought in many bloody skirmishes. Never had he encountered such a strange place as this. He could not tell if Castle Blackwood was saturated with evil or simply overrun by nature left unchecked. In any case, he hoped the creature was now gone for good.

  Back on the ground, he found Rulf awaiting his return. “Did your lordship find what you were looking for?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Jothan replied. “Did you watch me cross the wall walk, Rulf?”

  Rulf shook his head. “My old eyes cannot reach that far, my lord. I only waited to be sure you came down again safely.”

  “You saw nothing that transpired on top of the tower?”

  “I fear not, my lord.”

  “Very well. Go about your work, then.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  Jothan walked away, grinding his teeth in frustration. Once again, he seemed to be the only one to see the creature. He had even expended considerable effort in trying to reason with it. This time, he could not blame a lack of sound sleep. Had he merely imagined the entire event?

  As he stepped inside the castle, once again he heard that strange female laughter issue from its stony recesses. Or did it simply echo in the back of his mind?

  ****

  That night, Jothan took a solitary supper in his chamber. Catrain had prepared a stew, which he found surprisingly tasty, and supplied a second full bottle of wine. Jothan was tempted to drink all of it to aid in his sleep. Ruminating over so many questions had left him agitated and unable to rest. Not even exercising his horse had helped to settle his mind.

  He had finished his supper and was about to move to his bed when, as before, he heard a shuffling noise outside in the corridor. This time, thankfully, he did not hear any laughter.

  Grasping a candle, as before, he opened the door and stepped out.

  “Is that you, Delphas? Show yourself,” he demanded.

  “Here, my lord.”

  Again the shadows at the bend in the corridor shifted, and he saw Delphas step out into the light. This time, though, Jothan drew back in shock. Delphas was standing in front of him quite naked.

  “What are you doing? This is an outrage! Why do you appear me before me in that state?” Jothan had to force himself not t
o stutter as he affected fury. At the same time, his eyes slid over Delphas’s pale skin, perfectly formed limbs, and prominent masculine attributes. Under his tunic, Jothan felt his own flesh rise in eager response.

  Delphas seemed not in the least disturbed by his show of temper. Unashamed, he moved closer, one hand trailing down the front of his bare chest. “Oh, I think you like me quite well in this state,” Delphas replied. “I appear to you this way because I know that deep inside, you wished for it.”

  Jothan hesitated. To respond with encouragement would be nothing short of madness. Yet the burn in his loins could not be denied. He had spent too much of his life denying such feelings already.

  “’Tis true,” he finally confessed with a sigh. “I do…and I have wished it.”

  Delphas came closer still, until Jothan backed into the chamber. Delphas closed the door behind him. Then, moving so quickly it seemed as though he were part of a dream, he was in Jothan’s arms and kissing him fervently.

  Since Delphas was already naked, it took no time for them to reconvene on the bed. The women had washed the linens earlier that day, and they were scented with the same herbs Jothan remembered from the bath. Remembering Delphas’s lithe fingers on his skin then made Jothan shiver with desire. He dropped back on the pillows as Delphas applied his mouth between his legs and worked him into a state of dizzying arousal with his strong tongue and soft lips. Before long Jothan had lost all control. He lay shaking and shuddering as Delphas knelt beside him.

  “Are you a spy? Or an assassin?” Jothan finally asked, though he scarcely wanted an answer. “The servants here know you not.”

  “I do not want them to know me. I prefer to keep my own counsel,” Delphas said.

  “You did not keep it last night. There was a woman with you.”

  “A woman?” Delphas wrinkled his brow. Jothan leaned forward, eager to detect any sign of lying. He had always been good at reading other men’s faces. “Nay, my lord. As I hope I have just proved to you, I do not care for women in that way.”