Like Fire Through Bone (28 page)

“That’s good to hear.” Vasilios vaguely remembered fire, and lots of it, and it was good Brother Stavros had survived. He supposed it had been too much to hope he’d come out unscathed.

“You scared me,” Markos said, voice quiet. “God’s sake, what possessed you to move from behind that rock in the first place?”

“I….” Vasilios tried to think of a good answer to that, but truthfully it had all jumbled together into a blur. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He looked down at the covers and heard Markos sigh.

“I’m just glad you’re alive.”

Vasilios smiled, small and tentative at that. “So am I.”

“How does your arm feel?” Markos asked.

“Sore,” Vasilios told him, moving the arm in question a little. “It hurts, but not overly much.”

“I’m glad.” Almost as if on impulse, Markos leaned forward, pulled Vasilios close and held him tight. “You were very brave,” Markos said, voice slightly muffled in Vasilios’s hair. “When you took those creatures Gyllou raised, you didn’t even flinch. I watched seasoned soldiers run from them, and if I had been facing down Gyllou as you were, I’m honestly not sure what I would do. But you held your ground.” The warm press of Markos’s lips ghosted across the side of his face. “Watching you fight was one of the most terrifying things I’ve had to live through, but I’m glad you were there. We needed you there. Who knows how many would have died if you hadn’t been there or fought the way you did. We all may have. I am so very proud of you.”

Vasilios’s chest warmed, his cheeks heated and he couldn’t stop from smiling. “I promise to be more careful in the future.”

“In the future, I hope we will never have to exorcise a powerful demon who had decided to make a meal out of the city’s children,” Markos said without pulling away. “But just the same I won’t object to you carrying a weapon again should the need arise. As much as I hope it doesn’t.”

“Yes.” Vasilios allowed his good arm to come to rest around Markos’s shoulders. “I hope that as well.”

“If you are well enough,” Markos said eventually, “you may want to come out and join us for the evening meal. It will give you a chance to say your farewells to Brother Stavros and Aritê, since they will both be leaving tomorrow.”

Vasilios drew back a little. “Help me up.”

“Are you sure?” Markos sat back, looking at Vasilios with a slightly worried frown. “You don’t need to get up right now.”

“No, I’m sure.”

Markos stood and Vasilios moved the blankets from off his lap, glad to see he was fully clothed albeit different ones from the outfit he had been wearing at the quarry. He decided not to ask who had undressed and redressed him in the interim, and instead held out his good hand to Markos to help him up. Markos pulled him up and supported him, while Vasilios gained his footing.

Once up, Vasilios found it wasn’t that hard for him to stand or move around on his own. His arm ached and his head felt a little dizzy, but the rest of him was fine.

“Are you all right?” Markos watched him with a small concerned frown.

“I’m fine.” Vasilios took a couple more steps around the room and then stretched experimentally. “Where are the others? Should we go downstairs?”

“We are downstairs,” Markos said. “It was easier not to have to carry you up the stairs and easier for Brother Stavros as well. As far as I know, everyone is in the receiving room, if you want to go there.”

“I would like that.” Vasilios made for the door with Markos following close enough behind that he could reach out and steady Vasilios if needed.

The door did indeed lead out into what Vasilios recognized as the main hallway that ran the length of the bottom floor of the house. He turned and headed toward the receiving room.

When he pushed the door open, he saw Brother Stavros, Aritê, and Nereida already there. Brother Stavros was curled up on the rug, close enough to the window to see out, while Aritê and Nereida seemed deep in conversation. Everyone looked up when Vasilios stepped into the room, followed closely by Markos.

“Vasilios,” Nereida turned toward him, hands outstretched and took his in her own. “Are you feeling all right? How is your arm? I’m so glad you’re awake.”

“I’m fine.” He smiled and squeezed her hands a little in return. “How are you?”

“I’ve been well,” she told him. “The Lady Eudoxia is a kind hostess, and I’ve been spending a good deal of time thinking and praying on my future plans.”

“Oh?” The cold fear that began to grip Vasilios’s chest made his hands on hers tighten.

“Yes.”

Vasilios looked up to see Aritê had drawn closer as well. “I am also glad to see you are well enough to join us,” she told him.

“Markos said you will be leaving tomorrow.” Vasilios glanced from Aritê to Brother Stavros. “He said both of you will be going back.”

“Yes.” Brother Stavros nodded, uncurled, and moved languidly forward. “Although General Markos has been extremely generous and hospitable, I must return to the Brothers of Archistrategos Mikalos.”

“And I must return to my dwelling as well,” Aritê said. “I was only given leave to cast out the demon, not stay longer than that.”

“I will miss you both,” Vasilios said, and discovered it was true. He hadn’t known either of them for long, but their time together had been intense. He would miss both of their counsel, especially Aritê’s.

“But come.” Aritê shook her head, causing her braid to swing. “We have this evening to eat and speak together, and later you should speak privately with Nereida about your future plans.”

Vasilios nodded and looked back down at Nereida, who smiled and squeezed his hands. “She’s right. We’ll speak together later.”

He nodded and let go of her hands.

“I believe Phyllis has set out the evening meal in the dining room,” Markos said from behind him.

“Come.” Brother Stavros held out his hand to Vasilios. “Let us go eat a little. Would you walk with me?”

“Certainly.” Vasilios took his hand, and they both moved toward the door. Markos, Nereida, and Aritê followed a little behind. There was a small flutter of fear in the bottom of Vasilios’s stomach at being so close to Brother Stavros, but it was easily pushed away this time.

“So,” Brother Stavros said, as they moved down the hall, “what will you do now?”

“I… don’t know.” He looked down at the brightly tiled floor and then up at Brother Stavros. “If I go back to Lady Eudoxia’s house, I face the consequence of my disobedience.” He shook his head. “I do not have any other choice.”

Brother Stavros hesitated as they entered the dining room where Phyllis had already laid out the food. “I do not know much about your position, but I know your relationship with the Lord is strong,” he said, curling at the table while Vasilios sat beside him. “And if you felt it was right, you could come to us, at the monastery, we would welcome you there.”

Vasilios blinked up at him in surprise. He had never in his life thought of himself as the kind of person who would join a religious order, yet Brother Stavros seemed to be serious. “Thank you, but I don’t think I am cut out for such a life.”

“Pray on it.” Brother Stavros touched his hand briefly before turning to Nereida, who had settled herself on his other side.

The food was as good and well prepared as Vasilios remembered. He sipped his wine and watched Markos smile from across the table. He tried not to think of the future and instead concentrated on this moment.

From his other side, Aritê touched his arm briefly. “Would you assist me?” she asked when he turned toward her. “I cannot eat from a plate.”

“Of course.” Vasilios felt a momentary twinge that he had not offered earlier. “I can also go to the kitchen for a bowl.”

“It will be fine,” Aritê told him. “I wished to speak with you before I departed anyway.”

“All right.” He spooned up some of the savory barley and fed it to her. “What did you want to speak to me about?”

“Will you be all right now?” Aritê asked, straight to the point as always.

Vasilios glanced at her before reaching for some of the bread. “Yes,” he said. “I won’t go back there, to Anthimos.”

She watched him before shaking her head. “When we spoke of this before, you said you didn’t have a choice.”

Vasilios looked away, not wanting to have this conversation at the dinner table, but Aritê would be gone in the morning. “For a long time I didn’t, not really. The choice between death or servitude is no real choice. But things have changed. They are different now.”

He gazed down at the table while Aritê managed to lift her wine cup to her mouth with a little struggle. “Last time we spoke, things were different too. My pride just got in the way.”

Once the food was eaten and everyone was moving away from the table, Nereida touched his arm. “Walk with me,” she said. “In the garden?”

He took her arm, and they left the dining hall and headed across to the doorway that led out into Markos’s garden. “What would you like to speak with me about?” Vasilios asked, as they made their way down the narrow garden path.

“My future.” Nereida looped her arm with his as they passed by a well-tended maze of flowers. “I’ve spoken with Aritê and Lady Eudoxia at length. I’m grateful for both of their council.”

“And?” Vasilios watched her, noted the lines of strain around her mouth and eyes, how they made her seem tired.

“I’m not going back to Anthimos,” she said, voice calm. “He would kill me if I did. Maybe not right away, but one day he would go too far. We both know this.”

“Where will you go?” Vasilios asked, trying to keep the sudden fear out of his voice. “You cannot stay at Lady Eudoxia’s house forever. She cannot protect you for that long, and you have no other place to go. You’ve already said your brother will not take you in—”

“I am joining the order of the Holy Saints Cosmas and Damian,” Nereida said, stopping Vasilios in midflow.

“What?” Vasilios ran his fingers through his hair, gazing down at her, completely at a loss for words. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Nereida smiled up at him before turning back to the flowers around them. “If I give myself to the Church, it will not matter if I am married or not. He will have no claim over me.”

“And you want this?” Vasilios took one of her hands in both of his. “You will be happy doing this? You’re sure about it?”

“Of course, I know. The vow I will take is more binding than anything else.” Nereida’s voice had a hint of anger to it, but then she looked away. “I have prayed on this for a long time, Vasilios, even before I met you. This is what I need to do.”

Vasilios bit his lip. He didn’t know how to ask what came next, but for his own peace of mind, he needed to know. “Most people,” he said, after a long, careful minute, “are led to this life through faithfulness to a call, not because they are running away from something, even something horrible.”

There was silence, and Vasilios forced himself to meet her eyes, expecting anger and finding instead a deep gentleness. Nereida reached up and touched his cheek.

“You are such a good man,” she said. “A careful, patient man. I can’t tell you that I am doing this for all the right reasons with motives as pure as I wish they were, but I am clear. This is what I need to do.”

“All right.” He squeezed her hands tight before letting them go. “All right, then.”

They walked again, in silence this time, Vasilios watching Nereida as they went. She seemed not necessarily happy, but calm and settled.

“It’s a medical order, isn’t it?” he asked finally.

“Yes,” she nodded. “The sisters run a hospital for the poor and an orphanage.”

“I thought you wanted to write and be a scholar?” Vasilios licked his lips, trying to understand and settle what he was feeling.

“I did, I do.” Nereida pulled a little at the scarf around her shoulders. “I will be serving in the hospital now, for a long time, but maybe one day I will still write.”

“And that will be enough?” Vasilios asked, and Nereida laughed.

“Yes, Vasilios, trust me, this will be enough.”

“If this is what you want.” He reached for her hand again. “Then I’m glad.”

“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand gently and then stopped to face him. “I am leaving soon,” she said. “I’ve already spoken with the Amma at the convent, and I will be joining her there tomorrow. I don’t know when the next time I will be able to speak with anyone from the outside world will be.” She squeezed his hands tightly and then stretched up on her toes and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Stay safe, be happy, be free, and may God watch over you.”

“And you.” He pulled her close into a hug. “My friend.”

“I should go.” Nereida touched his cheek lightly one last time and then turned away. Vasilios watched her walk back through the garden and open the wrought-iron gate that led into the body of the house. Above him, the sky was darkening to a deep purple, tinting the garden with shadows. Vasilios walked down the garden path until he came to the bench where he and Markos had once sat and talked. He sank down onto the seat and gazed out across the garden as the light faded.

There was a rustle of cloth, and he looked up to see Aritê making her way toward him. “Did you speak with Nereida?” she asked as she sat beside him on the bench.

“Yes. I don’t know if I understand fully what it is she is doing, or think it is for the best, but it is her choice, not mine in the end.”

“Brother Stavros offered you the same choice, did he not?”

“Yes.” Vasilios told her. “But I said no.”

Aritê shook her head, smiling a little. “Monastic life would suit you poorly, I think, although that in and of itself should not deter you, but you and our Beloved have much to work out before you are ready for that level of commitment, I think.”

“I never will be.” Vasilios rubbed his hands across his face, thinking of the faith of his childhood, the statues, offerings, and rules about what the Gods would or would not tolerate. He’d been young and known little about faith or belief, and then he’d been taken, cut, and sold. He shook his head. “I don’t think I will ever be able to live that, like you or Brother Stavros or Nereida.”

“No.”

He startled when Aritê reached up and touched his face lightly with her sleeve-covered wrist.