The Gathering (20 page)

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Authors: S L Dearing

BOOK: The Gathering
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"We've got travelers.
 
They look thirsty."

As the lower guards started to pull open the gates, Father Leon and Sister Margaret Cecilia walked out of the church doors.
 
They were discussing the eminent arrival of the people from Salt Lake II who had radioed that they would arrive sometime in the morning.
 
They stopped and looked over at the gate then walked towards the guards.

"Hello, Philip.
 
Who's coming to our home this late in the evening?"

The guard turned and bowed.

"We're not sure, Father, but they looked in need of rest and water, possibly food."

Father Leon smiled.
 
He was a rather fit-looking man in his early fifties with a fine head of hair that was just starting to turn gray.

"Well, I’ll tell Monsignor.
 
I'm sure he’d like to welcome our new guests."

Father Leon started to turn, but remembered.

"Philip, the Mormons will be here tomorrow.
 
They believed sometime in the late morning."

"Thank you, Father."

As Father Leon walked hurriedly towards the rectory, Sister Margaret Cecilia had already gone to the kitchen and asked them to prepare food for the visitors.
 

Slowly through the gates of St. Viviana's came the many men on horseback.
 
The guards didn’t remember ever seeing these men before.
 
They all wore black leather pants, boots and shirts and they all wore swords and shields and daggers.

St. Viviana's was a small camp of maybe four hundred in total and the traveling horsemen were about one hundred.
 
Father Leon had now emerged with Monsignor Klaus.
 
The Monsignor was in his early sixties, but looked a bit younger, although his hair had long ago turned white.
 
He had a bit of a belly and very red cheeks.
 
They walked forward through the horsemen, who looked down on them without smiling as the men bade them welcome.

They finally rested in front of the rider who wore silver bands on his arms and had a larger helmet and steed than the others.

Monsignor extended his hand, but the rider just looked at it, then at his nearest companion, a large man with a white scar that ran down his face.

"Welcome to St. Viviana's.
 
You are most welcome.
 
I am Monsignor Klaus and this is Father Leon.
 
We’re preparing food and drink.
 
You must be weary."

The rider then smiled and dismounted.
 
He took off his helmet and walked around the priests.

"My name is Thomas Blaylock.
 
We were… hunting when we lost our way."

Monsignor looked around and laughed nervously.
 
He was taken aback by the appearance of the rider.
 
He had long brown hair that hung past his midriff, but the top had been shaved on both sides.
 
His eyes were a cold icy blue that made the priest's blood freeze and he stood at just over six feet, but to the monsignor, he could have been ten feet tall.
 
The uniform he wore accentuated his muscles and the Monsignor could not help but notice the number of swords and daggers he had strapped to his legs, arms and mount.

"Quite a large hunt," Monsignor replied.

Blaylock smiled and put his arm around the Monsignor, forcing him to walk with him through the riders in black, who were now dismounting their horses.

"Please don't let my friends alarm you, Monsignor.
 
They aren't very good at meeting new people."

Monsignor nodded with concern.

"I see."

Several young women came out of the building to their right and placed trays of food along a large table in the middle of the quad, nervously looking over their shoulders.
 
Blaylock reached over and took a tomato off of a plate and brought it to his lips, but stopped just short of eating it.
 
Instead he offered it to Monsignor, who smiled and shook his head.

Blaylock shrugged and popped the tomato in his mouth.
 
His men didn’t move to get any food, but stood by their horses, which caused Monsignor and Father Leon to become increasingly nervous.
 
The gates of St. Viviana's began to close and Monsignor felt as if his collar was tightening around his throat.

Blaylock sat in a chair and put his feet up on the table, while he ogled one of the young girls who were laying out the food.
 
She was no more than sixteen, a lovely girl with pale skin and long brown hair, tied back in a ponytail.
 
He continued to stare at her as he spoke.

"I must thank you and your people for being so…kind as to let us in and offer us food and rest.
 
We are definitely in need."

As Monsignor Klaus smiled and stepped forward, Blaylock looked away from the girl towards the priest.

"Well, perhaps I can show you and your men to your sleeping quarters?"

Blaylock smiled and then laughed.
 
The gates slammed shut and the bar was laid in the cradle.

"That won't be necessary, Monsignor."

Blaylock snapped his fingers and his men began to spread out across the small village, drawing their swords and daggers.
 
Monsignor Klaus spun in all directions, watching as the men began to knock down doors and walk into dwellings, and then the screaming began.

"What is this?!"

Blaylock got up and pushed the priests towards several of his waiting men.
 

"Party time, Gentlemen."

Blaylock winked at Father Leon as his men grabbed the priests and took them off screaming.
 
Blaylock turned his head towards the young women and smiled.
 
Some were screaming and others were crying, but the young girl, with the pale skin and long brown hair, stared in terror.
 
He moved towards her.
 
The other girls ran as he came closer, but she was unable to move, his eyes fixed on her.
 
She knew what he wanted, but she couldn't move.
 
Her legs felt heavy, like lead.

He grabbed her arms and lifted her up to his face, her feet now dangling in the air.
 
He brought her in to his face and smelled her hair; she pulled her face as far away from him as she could.
 
He ran his mouth next to her cheek then he stuck out his tongue and licked her.
 
He put his mouth to her ear.

"You are ripe, aren't you?"

She began to cry, which made him laugh.
 
He dropped her to the ground, and held one of her arms, but she shook and tried to wrench her arm away.
 
He snapped it back and brought her face to his.

"I wouldn't if I were you."

He then marched towards the building dragging her with him.
 
She started to scream and grab at the table and walls, but he was much stronger and tossed her through the door like a rag doll.

He turned to one of his men eyeing another girl.

"When you finish, you get the spoils, not before!
 
Understand?
 
But remember, they want the rest of them undamaged."

The soldier nodded and reluctantly went on other pursuits.
 
Blaylock stepped through the door and slammed it behind him.
 
The girl's screams were drowned in a sea of violence.

From the top of the steeple, a raven watched.

 

 

 

 

 

25

 

Ian and Kaley sat at a table in Donagan's Pub, not far from their parents.
 
Kaley stared at her drink.
 
She didn't remember it being this difficult six months ago.
 
They talked endlessly about everything.
 
Why was it so hard?
 
Why wasn’t he talking to her?
 
Finally, Ian leaned forward.

"Let's get out of here."

He grabbed Kaley's drink and jumped off his stool.
 
Kaley looked after him, perplexed, and then followed, shaking her head.
 
She got outside the pub and looked around, but Ian wasn't there.

"Ian?"

She walked through the crowd of dancers and tried jumping up to see over everyone's heads.
 
She stopped and put her hands on her hips, obviously irritated that he had left, when she suddenly felt a hand on her waist.

Ian twirled her into his arms, but she wasn't smiling.

"If you're trying to impress me, you're failing miserably."

She pushed him away from her and walked out of the crowd.
 
Ian stood confused.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Kaley was furious.
 
What was he thinking?
 
Why didn't he just talk to her?
 
How would dancing fix their inability to speak to one another?
 

Ian ran after her and was now walking next to her trying to redeem himself.

"Look, we weren't talking in there and I had also asked you if you wanted to dance, so I thought…"

Kaley stopped, so quickly that Ian had to jog back to talk face to face.

"You thought you would do a little dance and that I would get swept off my feet at the thought of your biceps and chest and…stuff and forget that we couldn't carry on a conversation?
 
Did you think I would swoon and forget that we have obviously forgotten how to talk to one another?"

Ian looked around and then back at Kaley with a baffled look on his face.

"Uh, well, I haven't forgotten how to talk, but you were sure having a hard time."

"I'm sorry, but did I miss something?"

"Obviously."

Kaley started to stammer.

"Are you saying that I wasn't talking to you?"

Ian's demeanor now changed to anger as he crossed his arms in front of him.
 
He had his tongue in his cheek.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying.
 
Every time I asked you a question about what you've been doing for the last six months, I get a one or two word answer.
 
The last time we met, our conversations were effortless, but tonight you act like you don't want to be around me."

"No, no, it's been me that asked you and you aren't giving me any answers."

"No, Kaley, I asked you how your music studies were coming and you looked up from your drink and said 'fine' and then looked down at your drink again.
 
I asked you about any new instruments you've been studying and you said ‘mandolin.’
 
You asked me how my grandmother was and I told you in long and complete sentences.
 
Are you completely nuts?"

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