Reckoning (19 page)

“Who is it?” he calls.

“Enael.”

Gabriel scrunches up his forehead, trying to remember the names of the monks he has met so far.
 
Judging by the higher pitch to the voice, he would guess that he is the youngest of the bunch.
 
The one he caught sneaking an extra dinner roll from the kitchen last night before dinner.
 
“Come in.”

The door opens slowly to reveal a boy not much younger than Gabriel.
 
Although he might not be considered overweight yet, he certainly has a plump look about his round face.
 
Large almond eyes stare expectantly at him.
 
“Am I interrupting?
 
Sias told me I should give you a day to settle in before I pounce on you.”

“You’re fine.”
 
Gabriel crisscrosses his legs, wincing at the scratchy fabric of his robe against his skin.

The boy enters with a wide grin stretched across his face, creating dimples in his plump cheeks.
 
“It takes a while to get used to them.”

“To what?” Gabriel questions.

Enael lifts his hands to tug on his own robe.
 
“I hated mine for the first month I was here.
 
Then winter set in and I was thankful for it.”

Gabriel’s eyebrow rises.
 
“What is it like when it’s not winter here?”

“Like this,” the boy smiles.
 
Gabriel cannot help but chuckle.
 
“It is a tad more blustery now, I guess.
 
It gets dark earlier too.”
 
He glances around Gabriel’s room, at the sparse décor.
 
There is a stack of ugly brown robes on a wooden chair at the foot of Gabriel’s bed.
 
An aged mirror hangs slightly crooked on the wall.
 
A tattered blanket from his bed is folded on the small writing desk in the corner.
  

“How long have you been here?” Gabriel asks, pulling Enael’s attention back.

“About six months I guess.
 
It is easy to lose track of time around here.
 
I used to carve a mark into the walls each night but even that got boring.”

Gabriel smiles at the boy’s wistful tone.
 
“I guess I’m not the only prisoner here.”

Enael’s eyes widen.
 
“Oh no.
 
Not a prisoner.
 
I like it here…most of the time.
 
Well, some days at least.
 
Now you are here.
 
Things are about to get really exciting.”

“What do you mean?”

His cheeks redden as he clamps his hand over his mouth.
 
“Oh, dragonflies.
 
Sias warned me to keep my trap shut.
 
I always do this.”

Gabriel laughs, holding up his hands to calm the boy.
 
“It’s ok.
 
If you can’t say, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Thanks,” he gushes, flopping down onto Gabriel’s rug.
 
His eyes light up.
 
“Oh!
 
I almost forgot.”

Reaching into the folds of his robe, Enael removes a small box and holds it out.
 
“What is it?” Gabriel asks, turning the box over.

“You’re supposed to open it,” Enael grins.

Gabriel’s fingers slide along the seam until they dip into a small notch at the front.
 
He lifts off the lid and frowns.
 
“A book?”

“Take a look.” Enael rises onto his knees to watch.
 
Excitement wiggles through his plump body as he scoots forward.
 
“I heard you like to draw.”

Opening the slightly worn leather cover, Gabriel discovers a sketchpad.
 
Jagged edges, from pages torn away, line the binding.
 
He glances up to find Enael blushing.
 
“My uncle gave this to me when he told me I was coming here.
 
Guess he thought it might help pass the time.”

Enael scratches the hairline of his bowl cut.
 
“Found out I’m not much of an artist, but I did manage to beat Ordin at a couple games of tic-tac-toe.”

Gabriel bursts out laughing.
 
“I bet he loved that.”

“Yeah,” he winces, unconsciously rubbing the back of his hand.
 
“He can be a sore loser at times.”

“I don’t doubt that.”
 
Gabriel grins.
 
His fingertips glide over the thick paper before he looks up at Enael.
 
“Thank you for this.
 
It’s perfect.”

Enael beams.
 
“I have the charcoal around here somewhere.
 
I’ll see if I can get it for you after the games.”
 
His slumped spine straightens.
 
“So are you going to join us tonight in the ring?”

“What ring?” Gabriel asks, setting aside Enael’s gift.

“The ring of death,” he says in a deep voice, cupping his hands around his mouth to produce a tiny echo.
 
He clears his throat.
 
“That’s just what I like to call it.
 
You should come.
 
It’s loads of fun.
 
Each of us chooses a weapon and dives in.
 
It is a real free-for-all.
 
Ordin is an expert with the mace and sword but his throwing arm is a bit stiff because of the weather.”

“Good to know,” Gabriel grins.
 
“And what about you?”

Enael blushes.
 
“I’m pretty good with the whips.”

“Whips?”

“Yeah, you know those ones the Romans used to beat people with?”

“Uh, no.” Gabriel laughs.
 
Like that obscure fact was actually going to stick in his brain.
 
Ancient history was his least favorite class in school.
 

“Well, they are totally amazing,” Enael’s hands flutter in the air.
 
“They are about five feet long, made of thick black leather and have killer sharp claws on the end.
 
I can take the head off the practice dummy with the flick of my wrist,” he boasts proudly.

“I’m sure you can,” Gabriel laughs.
 
“What about the others?”

“Sias is wicked awesome with all of the weapons.
 
He moves like a lion, low and stealthy,” Elias rises to imitate Sias’ movements.
 
His clumsy impersonation nearly has Gabriel in tears.
 
“Just when you think he’s down, he pounces back and guts you with his javelin.”

“Will everyone else be there?”
 
Gabriel is still a little wary of the other men.
 
Sias seems nice enough. He can even handle Ordin in small doses, but the other three are somewhat hard to read.

“Yep.
 
They all get in on the fun.
 
Asrim does not really put out much effort.
 
He is kind of slow because of his size.
 
And Raos and Ortuh are not that good anymore.
 
Their hearts just aren’t in it now that Faeus and Arthes are gone.”

Judging by the way Enael’s voice wavers, Gabriel has a pretty good feeling that he means dead instead of gone.
 
“What happened to them?”

Enael smiles wanly.
 
“Your girl, Roseline, took them out.”

Gabriel winces.
 
“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Enael waves off Gabriel’s apology.
 
“She was just trying to protect you.
 
Sias doesn’t hold that against you and I think the others will come around.”

Somehow, Gabriel highly doubts that.
 
“Is that Ordin’s beef with me?”

“Nah.
 
He’s been rough around the edges ever since I was a little boy.”

Gabriel’s brow creases.
 
“How long have you been around the monks?”

“My whole life.
 
Can’t really avoid it when your uncle is in so deep,” Enael replies, tugging on a frayed part of the rug.
 
Second-hand, like much of what Gabriel has seen of this place.

“Who is your uncle?” he asks.

Enael grins.
 
“Sias.”

***

Artic winds whip past Gabriel, easing the furnace bubbling within.
 
He had to escape the monastery.
 
It is too stifling inside.

Out here, on the icy precipice, he can truly be alone with his thoughts.
 
No one dares to join him.
 
The daylight temperatures are miserable at this altitude, but nighttime is fatal.
 

Winds whip past at brutal speeds, swirling ice cyclones rise around him but he ignores their stinging jabs, swatting the ice crystals like a pesky fly.
 
The sun has fled, leaving behind a murky gray sky, shielding moon and starlight from the land.
 
Gabriel can imagine that on a clear day the layers of ice clinging to the mountainside would be a spectacular sight to behold.

His perch is narrow, precarious for a mortal to stand on, let alone sit for hours on end lazily swinging their legs back and forth.
 
He sucks in a deep breath, savoring the taste of the clean air, free of man-made pollution.

Tonight he needs to be alone.
 
It is getting harder for him to resist the urge to leap down the mountainside and race back to Roseline.
    

Longing swells in his chest, constricting his throat.
 
Tears well in his eyes but none fall.
 
Questions cascade through his troubled mind.
 
Does she search for him?
 
Will she understand why he does not return to her?

He knows he could leave, should leave, but instead he lingers.
 
Maybe it is the breeding doubt about his destiny, whatever that is supposed to be.
 
Gabriel knows there is something more going on.
 
He just cannot place his finger on it.
  

This place, these monks feel…right.

Therefore, he stays, all the while pining for Roseline, praying she is safe, hoping her love remains secure.
 

He looks down at his sketch, tracing the fine contours of Roseline’s cheek.
 
His fingers ache to touch her silky skin.
 
His arms beg to wrap her in his embrace, to protect her now that he is finally strong enough to do so.

 
Gabriel sighs, lifting his head to stare out into the night.
 
Enael was right.
 
It is growing increasingly blustery.

The door below him grinds open.
 
Gabriel peers down at the rectangle of light.
 
“Should I have Enael bring out a cot for you or will you be joining us for dinner?” Sias shouts into the driving winds.

Tucking the book within his robe, Gabriel leaps down from his ledge, landing lightly on his toes.
 
“That won’t be necessary.
 
I’m coming.”

Sias waits for Gabriel to pass before slipping in behind him.
 
Using his shoulder, he shoves the heavy door closed.
 
The whistling winds cut off and the walls shudder as the locking bolt slams into place.
 
He shivers, blowing warmth back into his fingers through blue tinged lips.