Even Hell Has Knights (Hellsong) (20 page)

“Why are you saying this?” Alice asked. “I don’t like thinking about that.”

“I just thought you should know, you know? That
I
. .
.
well, I figured that if I thought of you when I was afraid the
n
. .
.
well, then I knew I liked you.”

Alice shook her head. “It shouldn’t take almost dying to help you realize something like that, Aaron.”

“I know bu
t
. . . well, it made me understand how much.”

“That’s sweet,” Alice said.

Aaron nodded, and started to leave.

“Wait.”

He turned around.

“That Infidel Friend, should we even be keeping him here? He might be dangerous.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Aaron said. “We keep talking about what we’re going to do when he heals up. The man might not even live. It’s amazing he’s survived this long.”

“But you
are
worried, Aaron, about something. What is it?”

“That man came here for a reason, Alice.”

“But what could he want?”

I don’t know, that’s what I’m worried about. Who could trick him into talking?

“Where’s Molly?” Aaron asked.

“Why would you want to talk to her?”

“Because if anyone can drag secrets out of an Infidel Friend, she can.”

“I think she’s by the river.”

“Sir,” Avery said, “he’s awake.”

Aaron started, sitting up from his bed. Chelsea stirred beside him, groaning and covering her eyes with his blanket.

“Who let you in the Fore?” Aaron asked.

“You did, sir. You assigned me to guard the Infidel Friend.”

Aaron shook his head, and rubbed his eyes. “Well, feed him.”

“No, sir.”

Aaron cast a blurry glance towards Avery. He had drawn his shutters to help Chelsea sleep, so the only light entering the room came from behind Avery. The brightness was enough to make Aaron close one eye. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t want that no good motherfucker here, sir. I’ll be damned if he eats meat from my table.”

“Your table?”

“Figuratively speaking, sir.”

“Alright, I’ll be up in a second. I’ll bring him his food.”

Ben Staunten had opted to give up his own room rather than let the Infidel Friend stay with the stores. Michael had agreed to it since Staunten’s room was one of the few in the Fore that actually had a door and the only one other than the storeroom that had a lock on it. Staunten had taken his mattress with him, so the infidel lay against the naked stone. The man had propped his head up with
his shirt which he had balled into a makeshift pillow. His bandages had been soaked through with blood that had since dried. He had gone so far as to remove two of them.

“I’ve brought you some food,” Aaron said to the infidel.

The man moved only slightly, as if he had been awake when Aaron had entered the room. Whether this was simply the case, or whether the Infidel Friend just made it seem so, was beyond him.

“Then I give you thanks,” the infidel replied.

Aaron had decided to bring spider guts, though he knew it would anger the villagers if they found out.

The Infidel Friend began to eat the meal slowly. Aaron hadn’t provided any silverware, forcing the infidel to eat his food by dipping two fingers into the green and black guts and spoon it into his mouth. From his proficiency of eating in such a manner, Aaron guessed he must do it often.

“Did you kill the spider?” the Infidel Friend asked him.

Fucker knows how to piss people off from the first sentence, doesn’t he?

“No. Michael did.”

“He must be a strong warrior.”

Aaron nodded.

“Do you mind if I keep the bowl?” the Infidel Friend asked him.

“Yes.”

“Then I shall attempt to finish. I would appreciate it greatly if you gave me some of your patience. I have been deeply wounded.”

Aaron nodded, and sat down in one of Staunten’s chairs. “Take your God damned time.” He’d meant to present a more upstanding example of himself to his enemy. “I’m sorry,” Aaron apologized.

“For what?” the infidel asked.

“I didn’t mean to say the Lord’s name in vain. Kind of stupid to apologize to you about it, though.”

“You didn’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”

“I said ‘God damn.’”

The infidel shook his head seriously. “Yahweh. You’re not allowed to say Yahweh. They used to kill men for saying it. ‘God damn’ isn’t at all what the ancients had in mind. That’s something uneducated Christians came up with later.”

Aaron shifted in his chair. For some reason the way that the Infidel Friend was eating angered him. “You could sit on one of the chairs, you know. Would be softer.”

“I am a guest here. I’d not bleed on my host’s furniture.”

“You’re no guest. You’re a prisoner.”

If this was a revelation to the man, he showed no sign of it. After a few more measured bites he answered. “Then I shall probably take a seat.”

Aaron drew his gun when the man began to stand.

“Are you drawing your gun as a precaution? Or is it that you would rather me not bloody the chair?”

“You have no idea how badly I want to kill you.”

“Maybe. But you’re not exactly hiding that intention.”

Aaron watched the infidel stand up. He chose to do so in an odd manner. He lifted his body up with his right hand and left leg, and then swung his right leg out to get his feet under him. Aaron figured this must have been the only way he could stand without aggravating his wounds. Slowly, the Infidel Friend moved to a chair and sat down. Only then did he continue eating.

“I have eaten half,” the infidel said. “If this food is allotted to more men than me, please tell me now.”

“Just finish the damn bowl, okay.”

“I appreciate your generosity.”

“You know damn well that’s a pittance. As a man recovering from a wound, you should be getting far more than that.”

The infidel shrugged. “Then, having recognized this indemnity, would you not request more food on my behalf?”

“No.”

The Infidel Friend took another bite. He swallowed slowly and breathed deeply.

Aaron shook his head. “Hurry up. I’ve got some water for you when you are through.”

Another bite. “Pardon my speculation, but I feel it unlikely that your hostility stems from my actions.”

Unfailingly polite. The fucker doesn’t even speak with his mouth full. Even the way he eats. It’s schooled.

“Well, you’re dead wrong.”

“I think you’re mad at the way I’ve been treated. I think you’re mad that your man didn’t bring me the food himself. You’re mad because you didn’t kill the spider that I eat.”

“I think you’re a liar.”

“Then I trust you will ask me no questions.”

“I didn’t say I thought you were a good one,” Aaron muttered.

The infidel laughed. It was a shallow laugh, as the man was obviously trying not to disturb his wounds, but it seemed genuine.

Aaron let the tension flow out of the room, and laughed too, shaking his head helplessly.

Don’t trust him, he’s trying to get on your good side.

Another bite.

As before, the Infidel Friend finished chewing and swallowing before speaking. “I know that you are supposed to provide a stern front with me, but you have no need to keep up such pretension. I know that if it was up to you, you’d free me.”

“You
are
a liar,” Aaron said.

“You are a good man. You have empathy. You wonder, what has this man done that could be so bad. Can we kill him, just for the symbol cut into his palm? What kind of leaders do I serve, that will kill this man no matter what he says? How would I feel in his shoes?”

“I’ve thought none of these things,” Aaron said. “I know you’re just trying to turn me against my people. I know you’re trying like hell to save yourself the only way you know how. This place has mercy, Infidel Friend. Your fate is not forgone. You will have a trial, and if you deserve it, you will be spared.”

The man stood up, causing Aaron to tighten his grip on his gun.

The Infidel Friend offered him the empty bowl. He had eaten every speck. “Now it is you who is the liar.”

Aaron took the bowl and looked again into the man’s eyes. “I’ll recommend that you be allowed to recover before your trial.”

He can see my guilt.

The infidel nodded. “You’re a good man.”

Or a coward.

Aaron felt shaken as he left the room. He closed the door behind him and twisted the lock.

Avery stood in the hallway, arms crossed, a sneer on his face. “I can’t believe you fed him.”

Aaron pulled him away from the door. “He makes me feel uneasy.”

“No shit, sir.”

“I don’t want anyone going in there alone, unless they’re unarmed.”

“I ain’t letting anyone in there without a weapon, sir.”

“Then send them in pairs. No one alone is to be armed. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Besides, if you do send someone in alone, that infidel doesn’t have to know that the gun isn’t loaded. I’d rather him have a hostage than a weapon, okay?”

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s law, sir.”

“Good. And that especially goes for Molly.”

Avery was so surprised that he uncrossed his arms. “Molly?”

“I’m going to get her now. I want her to interrogate the Infidel Friend first. She can’t have any loaded guns, got me?”

“I’ve frisked worse,” Avery said, grinning.

Aaron rolled his eyes.

Arturus had finished smoothing the last of the long marble rectangles he would use for squares. Galen had suggested that he glue them together into a board shape first, alternating light and dark. Then he could cut them across and flip over every other one. That way each square wouldn’t have to be quite so perfect, and it would make his board look less crooked. Soon he would have to go out and trade for some knowledge fruit to help make the glue that would hold the tiles together. If he had used white marble tiles for the white squares, the job would be easier, but he had elected for clear glass tiles instead. They would appear white because the entire board was set on a clean white marble slate.

Ellen was watching him work, which was something that she said she liked to do. He figured she was just afraid to be alone.

“It looks good,” she said.

It does look good.

He felt a bit of pride when he looked at the unfinished board. After this, he would only have to carve out the King, make the King’s mold, and cast those last two pieces in order to finish. “Thank you.”

“Did you want to go to Harpsborough today?” she asked.

“Not today, probably. I thought I might go tomorrow when I have the entire set done. Michael will love it.”

“Is that all you can think about?” she accused.

He looked at her, confused. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about for the last couple of hours, yeah. Why did you want to go to Harpsborough?”

“Fitch came by my place today,” she said. “He says the Infidel Friend is awake. Turi, I have to see him.”

“They’re probably going to kill him.”

“No! Why?”

“Infidel Friend are bad men, Ellen. They kill people. They have no respect for things here. They hate God.”

“Well, maybe they ought to. They were damned. It only seems fair.”

I wish Father Klein had heard that.

Arturus smiled. “Don’t go saying that in Harpsborough, okay?”

“I didn’t mean it.” She shook her head. “It’s jus
t
. .
.
well, I went through all the effort to drag him out of the river. I’d hate to think that they’d just kill him. I have to see him.”

She feels guilty. If it hadn’t been for her he wouldn’t be imprisoned. Then again, he’d probably have drowned.

“Alright. Let’s wait for Galen to come back. He might want to go too. He might not, though.”

“Why?”

“One of the things he taught me was not to go out of my way to witness human suffering.”

“What if we can make a difference?”

“You mean, like, convince Harpsborough to save him?”

“Or ease his last moments. You know? What if he looks at all those hateful people, and sees us, loving him. I have to at least talk to him.”

Arturus looked at her sharply. “Are you sure you belong here?”

“Huh?”

“You’re awfully nice to be in Hell.”

She laughed
and blushed. Then she pulled a knowledge fruit out of her sack.

Aha! I need that little sucker.

“Anything I can trade you for the fruit?”

She smiled, and held it behind her back. “You can give me a kiss.”

Ridiculous.

“Forget it. I’ll get some from Julian.”

She threw the fruit at him and stormed out of the room.

He watched her run in surprise, rubbing his shoulder from where the knowledge fruit had impacted.

What the hell?

He heard the gravel scattering as she ran down the hallway.