The Education of Brother Thaddius and other tales of DemonWars (The DemonWars Saga)
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“They seem quite friendly,” Diamanda warned. “How do we know that Thaddius was unaware of this band when we left St.-Mere-Abelle?”
The others wanted to argue, but really couldn’t. Together, the three lifted up in a crouch and eased to the edge of the bluff, ready to leap away to Thaddius’s aid.
Or perhaps to run off if their hopes were dashed.
*****
On and on went Brother Glorious and the other two, and then a fourth of their band came in happily.
“My prayers are answered!” the newcomer exclaimed. “More will join our cause. More will recognize the truth of Marcalo De’Unnero.”
“Avelyn was a fraud,” another insisted.
“Demon possessed,” Brother Glorious agreed.
“Bishop Braumin has been elected Father Abbot, so say the rumors filtering out of St.-Mere-Abelle,” Thaddius remarked, and that brought disgusted gasps from all about.
“Jojonah’s lapdog!” the newcomer cried. “Oh, but we have much fighting ahead, brothers.”
“They will reinstate us, brothers,” Thaddius said.
The looks that flashed his way sent chills down his spine.
“They seek healing, I am told,” Thaddius went on, a bit less assuredly. “Truce and compromise.”
“They demand fealty, you mean,” the one with the crossbow growled, and Thaddius wondered if the man was about to shoot him.
“Ohwan has been elected as Abbot of St. Honce,” Thaddius argued. “Ohwan was no enemy to Marcalo De’Unnero, and was his choice for that position.”
“Then let us go to Ursal,” Brother Glorious said to all. “Ohwan will have us. We will bolster his cause when he marches on St.-Mere-Abelle.”
“No, he will summon the Father Abbot to Ursal, to the Court of the King,” said the newcomer. “And there we will end the reign of foul Braumin.”
They all began talking excitedly about their fantasies of murder, and of keeping true the cause of De’Unnero. For a long while, they lost all interest in Thaddius, too consumed by their hopes. Brother Glorious himself spoke of a sister of St. Gwendolyn they had hunted down and killed, and what a godly deed that had been!
“We will find our sunrise, Brother Thaddius!” Glorious finished, at last turning back to the thin young monk.
Glorious’s expression changed indeed when he looked upon his old acquaintance from the shadows of the monastery where Marcalo De’Unnero’s name had been spoken with quiet reverence, to see Brother Thaddius encased in the holy blue-white glow of magical serpentine, his hand uplifted, a ruby teeming with fiery energy, begging catastrophic release.
THE END