Tomorrow's Shadow - 20. Trouble In Paradise

“How long will you be gone?” Gerik sat with Stefano on the balcony, watching the incoming tide and listening to the rhythmic sounds of waves crashing against stone.

“I wish I knew.” Stefano drew on his pipe, savoring the taste and aroma of cherry-wood tobac. The smoke did not rise above far above him. The light grey from the pipe mixed with the darker shadows that always seemed to accompany him. Shade and smoke, haze and shadow all wove in a mystic dance. “They did not give much information. Five kindred have arrived in the region of Orswelt and have asked to see the Prince.”

“I wouldn’t ask, Stef, but I did have plans for us to travel the mainland, plans that have been delayed twice and now are again. And it would be spectacular to spend some extra time alone in the forest surrounding the region. The lands there are enchanted with beauty.”

“It is an exquisite area, I agree. I doubt that meeting with kindred new to the region will have much more than introductions to be accomplished. I shall be there and back before you realize I’m away. It is, at most, a gentle two-night journey by wagon.”

“A very good reason for you not to travel alone.” Gerik stood and walked to the railing. “Recent events with wolven have been serious enough, but tarken have been noted in the wetlands, and they attack in silence. Unless you are expecting them, you will never hear them descend. They are ruthless winged demons that kill for sport, but they only go after those alone.”

“You need to stop reading Vargon’s ancient tomes, my heart. They are filling you with ideas and fears that are unwarranted. Tarken have always been around, as wolven have. But they are rarely violent unless they feel threatened. Traveling with the wagon, there is no need to journey near the wetlands; I shall travel around them. Trust me, Gerik. Trust my heart. I will not be away from you one moment longer than is necessary.” He gave a suggestive wink. “Who knows, we might even arrange for you to join me there when my responsibilities have ended.

“I suppose a man can’t ask for more.” Gerik leaned over and kissed Stefano’s cheek. “You are most patient with me.”

“I love you, it is that simple.” Stefano stood. “Night will end soon, but there is time to enjoy a swim.” He held out his hand. “Come, join me.”

Gerik took the offered hand and rose, smiling. “How can I refuse a request by the answer to my heart’s call?”

------

The eastern horizon was beginning to birth a new sun when Stefano and Gerik stepped back onto the beach. The ruddy complexion and the brightness of their eyes suggested recent feeding. Their lips met in a tender yet passionate kiss that lingered until Stefano finally released Gerik from his arms and stepped back. "The sky grows light. We must go inside and entomb ourselves for the day."

Gerik sighed softly. "Of course, Stef." He started putting on his clothes that still lay haphazardly across some rocks. "Tonight was splendid, dear heart. Having made love and now fed, I am fully satiated and ready for sleep."

Once dressed, the two walked up the steps to the balcony with Stefano leading. He opened a balcony door then followed Gerik inside. The hall was dark, the only light dim flickers from the fireplace across the room. The door was closed and drapes pulled before they headed for the stairs, only to be stopped short when an unexpected voice softly resonated through the hall.

"I was hoping to at least say hello before going to bed." Vargon stood from his seat at the bar and strode across the room. "It is good to see you, my Prince." He was met half way across the floor and pulled into an embrace, during which Vargon kissed his chylde's cheek. "It has been too long, my chylde. I have let meaningless affairs fill my nights for too long. Odessa finally insisted we come to your home, though whether it was to see you or just get me to slow my pace, I am not certain."

"I do not care the reason, Sire. I am only pleased to see you here. I wasn't sure after our last discourse…"

He was interrupted when Vargon held up his hand. "Let the past wither, Stefano. It has been difficult adjusting to you being Prince in my stead – for both of us. What happened is done."

"Yes, Father." Stefano smiled broadly. Are you here for long?"

"We planned on three nights before we continued. There is news of great finds at a remote dig in the far desert; your sister would very much like to see them for herself."

Stefano glanced at the heavily draped balcony doors. "I look forward to hearing the news next eve. For now, it is time to retire for the day." He took Gerik's hand and headed for the stairs.

Gerik paused long enough to wish Vargon a peaceful rest.

Vargon nodded his head to Gerik, then followed the men up the stairs, headed to his own chambers and his waiting wife.

The following evening had barely commenced before the two couples found themselves on the balcony, talking happily. Smiles and laughter, blended with the occasional moment of seriousness lightened not only the mood, but the air around them. Odessa was attired in dark pants and a tan top; it was the first time Stefano could remember not seeing her in a gown of some sort. Vargon sat beside her, also in dark trousers and a light shirt. His arm rested on the back of his wife’s chair.

Continuing clock-wise around the group sat Gerik. Of the four the quietest except for the occasional question. He seemed enraptured by the times and places of which the others spoke. This was especially true for Vargon. His stories of his ancient past held the youngest kindred’s attention much as a fairy tale to a child before bed. The last of the four, Stefano, sat a bit back from their table, his long legs stretched out straight before him, crossed at the ankle. His evermore-present pipe released trails of aromatic whisps.

Their discussion had been on earlier lives; Stefano had just spoken about the pain of losing his son when Gerik had a new query. “I do not think I have ever asked, Stefano, how long were you and Allise wed before young Nikolos was born?”

Stefano smiled through a cloud of fresh smoke. “Just short of two years. We had taken a late celebration for our anniversary… I still remember the hurt in her eyes when she learned I would be on a hunt with the elders when the first circle-of-months had completed. That was our first and only true argument. Oh, we disagreed often enough, but it was always an exchange of conflicting ideas or beliefs. Missing the anniversary of our being wed … that was fuel for quite an explosion.”

Vargon chuckled softly. “There are dates in life a husband never forgets, the first meeting, the first kiss, and most assuredly one’s wedding.” He lifted Odessa’s hand to kiss the palm. “If you are fortunate enough, you find a wife who reminds you frequently when these times approach.”

Odessa pulled her hand free and swatted at her mate’s shoulder. “You make me sound like a bothersome bride.” She looked at her brother-of-blood. “It is true I will bring these matters to my loving husband’s attention; but it is only because you men find it impossible to have more than two constructive thoughts during a night’s time. And women are blessed by Fate if they are thoughts about you and your mate that do not deal with … displaying your prowess as a lover.” She leaned up to kiss Vargon’s cheek. “And that is on a good night.”

It was Stefano’s turn to laugh. “I am not sure about that last statement, my sister. Though I will say it doesn’t seem to be an issue with Gerik, most likely as we are both of the male variety.” He winked at his love. “To complete the answer to your question, my heart, it was for that reason our celebration was late. We left a young couple freshly mended, we returned as parents in the making.”

Gerik grinned. “It does sound as if your disagreement had been resolved. There is something I’ve been meaning to ask.” He looked at Odessa. “I would love to hear more about this dig you will be visiting.”

“It is reported to be several centuries old. Many artifacts, stone knives, pottery remains, even the signs of fire pits have been uncovered.” Her eyes glittered with passion. “Yet the item that draws me is a piece of bone – most likely animal – that was finely worked. From its shape and thickness, along with the soil crushed within one side, it is thought to be part of a ploughing instrument. This thought is strengthened by the pieces of wood and ancient leathering found at the same site.”

Gerik’s face clouded with confusion. “Why would the piece of a plough be of such interest?”

Odessa practically shook with excitement. “Because of its location, its age, and probable use, I believe it could have been used by Cain himself.” Seeing Vargon’s smirk, she added, “Of course, he doesn’t think it is possible, but I refuse to pass by the chance. I do not believe those mortals know the significance of what they have found.”

Gerik leaned forward, caught up in her energy. “Cain? As in Cain the First? Father of all kindred? That Cain?”

Odessa leaned back. “Yes. The one and only. Lover to Lilith, the witch that was first wife to Adam.” She sighed. “So much history encased in a small bone fragment. It is something I shall treasure for eternity.”

“So you mean to take it.”

She looked aghast. “Of course. You could not expect me to leave it in mortal hands. It would be … the worst kind of abomination against my very heritage.”

Vargon grew tired of the topic at hand and interjected. “I do not know how she shall determine its authenticity, but at this point that doesn’t matter. She shall have the fragment. I shall ensure it.” He turned to his chylde. “When do you leave for Orswelt?”

“Not until after your departure. It is not a matter of urgency; there is no need for haste, though I do not want to prolong their wait. Certainly within…” Stefano was cut short as Viktor stepped onto the balcony.

“Another missive from Orswelt, Master Stefano. The runner has hurried herself halfway to her own demise. I do not believe she rested once, and from her look, she hasn't fed recently either.” “Thank you, Viktor.”

Stefano took the new missive and broke the seal. “Give her house wyne. Have her rest.”

“Yes, m'Lord. It shall be done.” Viktor bowed his head, stepped back, then turned and walked back into the Keep. All eyes were on Stefano as he broke the seal and began to read.

“Well?” Gerik inquired. “What is it that would cause a runner to fight exhaustion just to get it here? Can you read it to us?”

Stefano stood. “No time. Zarchos and I must move like the wind. Sire, I could use your guidance, please travel with me.”

Confusion and concern blended into a dark mask over Gerik’s face. “What has happened? What does the missive say?”

Stefano’s dark eyes were littered with sparks of fire within his normal fields of swirling shadows. “Two of the kindred visiting Orswelt have been extinguished.”

-----

“I am a trifle surprised you did not bring Gerik with you. Even if he would have need to stay with wagons while you met the new arrivals.” Vargon walked along the shore of the bank with Stefano while the horses grazed nearby. The men had paused in their race for Orswelt to let the animals rest; bridle, saddle, blanket, all had been removed and each horse brushed down before allowed to roam free. There was never a fear of them wandering off or even becoming spooked and running away; their bond to Stefano would never permit it.

“I do love him, Sire, but his immaturity at times is more than a bit trying.” Stefano stopped walking and turned towards Vargon when he heard a chuckle. “And what do you find humorous about that?”

“I am sorry, my chylde, but you do so sound like me speaking of you … and not too distant past, either.”

“I was never – was I? Father, if I frayed your nerves even half as much as Gerik has mine, I am truly sorry.”

“Do not fret over it, Stefano. It is all part of growing into the night; much as a mortal child matures as it grows, we kindred must also mature as we become more aware of what it means to be of shade and shadow.”

“I suppose. I am pleased you agreed to come with me, though. I am at a total loss of how to address these murders when we arrive. Surely in all your time as Prince, you had to deal with matters such as this.”

A shadow of sadness blanketed Vargon’s rugged features. “I have lost friends every way imaginable, whether wolven, tarken, hunters, or being extinguished by hand or by sun, not to mention those who simply gave up on the night. The difficult one, of course, is those extinguished by other kindred. Although grieving for any loss is unsettling, and having someone taken by hunters will make your soul seethe with rage … when kindred is destroyed at the hand of kindred it is a pain unto its own. For all involved, but mostly for the prince who must find justice.”

“And if the prince can’t find the guilty parties?”

“Quite simply, my chylde, that is not a possibility. A prince’s responsibility here is determined: you shall find those who bear the guilt and you shall bring justice for the families and friends of the lost. It was decreed by The First One, the one kindred above all others. Cain carved the law into the existence of us all, shade and shadow bear witness, and Night herself holds fast the truth. Know this. Instill this into your very being.”

“Yes, Sire.” Stefano furrowed his brow as the weight of the matter finally settled upon his shoulders.

“We need move on. Will you be coming the rest of the way with me, or returning to the Keep?”

“They know me in Orswelt, but I fear my presence would only confuse matters. Elders will be prone to come to me, which would be an affront to you as Prince.”

“I would not be offended…”

“It matters not. Such an action is an insult to a Prince and I shall not play a part.” Vargon gently saddled his mount before moving to stand in front of his chylde. His hands rested upon Stefano’s shoulders as he spoke. “I am confident in your abilities, my Prince – my Son. You may not feel so assured, and in truth it is better if not for it will keep you alert, but I know your strengths.”

“But if I become ensnared and unable to separate truth from falsehood…”

Again he was cut off. “Do not send a missive, I shall not answer, and I shall not come. You are Prince Stefano. You have the authority. And more, as you carry many of the nobler abilities that come with such a position. Trust in yourself Stefano. And know that I shall be proud of you, regardless of your own self-view.” He kissed Stefano’s cheek. “I love you, my chylde. Go. Be who you are, Prince of the realm and Knight of Justice. Let none question you. You hold the keys of tomorrow’s shadow in your hand. Fate’s blessing, dear son.” With that Vargon turned back and finished preparing his horse. He was on its back and off into the night before Stefano fully adjusted to what he had just heard.

I am Prince. I hold the keys. He mulled the thought over as he lifted himself atop Zarchos. I am Prince. He looked to the heavens and squared his shoulders. “I am Prince.” The words, so softly spoken, rolled thunder that crashed through the clearing and across the lake. He nodded to himself and spurred Zarchos toward Orswelt.

- - - - -

“May I refill your glass while I’m here, Odessa?” Gerik looked across the room at Vargon’s wife who sat relaxed near the fireplace. An intricate knitting was in her hand, yet her concentration was elsewhere, almost as if her hands knew what to do, whether or not her mind were involved.

“No, that’s fine, Gerik.” The lady stilled her hands as she gazed at the male kindred.

“What is wrong, lad? You look troubled.”

Gerik took a long sip of his house brandy. “It is nothing, I suppose. I shouldn’t worry you with it.”

“Nonsense. Come tell Auntie Odessa what is on your mind.”

Gerik coughed, laughed, and groaned as viscous red shot from his nose. “Sweet, Fate,” he exclaimed, grabbing a bar towel and cleaning himself up. Once his face was back in order, he turned his attention to the bar. “Auntie Odessa?” He coughed again before taking a tentative sip. “Wherefrom is ‘Auntie’?

” I am your sire’s sister, am I not? In mortal terms that would make me your aunt. In truth I had no intention of upsetting you so. It was meant to be a term of endearment.”

“No, I am not upset, just … surprised. After Lord Vargon’s reaction to ‘grandsire’ – I had basically given up on familial words.”

“Oh, you did not. Seriously? You called Vargon ‘grandsire’?” It was her turn to laugh. “How I wish I could have been present to witness it.”

“You knew how he would react?”

“Not truly, it is more I know my husband, and that is not terminology he would appreciate.”

“He did not.” Gerik took another sip and walked across the room. “Well then, dear ‘Auntie Odessa’, since you have already succeeded in unfooting me, I suppose I can tell you… I am very concerned over Stef’s … that is Stefano’s trip to Orswelt.”

Odessa’s hands returned to their well-practiced movements. “You call him ‘Stef’? Good. ‘Stefano’ is simply too formal, especially for lovers, though the shortened version is another thing not to say in front of my husband. For that matter,” she glanced around the room, “I would not recommend using it in Victor’s presence either. Where is he, by the way?”

“He had to go to the mainland to meet with the grocer for the Keep. Or the butcher. Someone that supplies food products. So, about Stef’s trip to Orswelt?”

“I think perhaps you worry excessively over this. Stefano is a prince, I myself do not foresee any problems.”

“Problems with which?” Vargon surprised them both as he sauntered in from the front doors. “I could use friendly discourse after hours of only having a horse for companionship.”

Gerik’s face lit with hope. “Is Stefano with you, my lord?”

“No, Gerik, though it is likely he has reached Orswelt by now. He has need to act as Prince and I have need to not be a distraction or hindrance. So I have returned.” He looked around the room. “Where is Viktor?”

Gerik stood. “He should be back from the mainland soon, Lord Vargon. But I can serve you – I assume you wish libation?

“Indeed, young one. Bring me a glass of blood wyne. In fact, bring the bottle also.”

“Yes my lord.”

Odessa smiled as her husband sat beside her. “So, dear heart, how was the ride with Stefano?”

“Enlightening. He has an interesting task ahead of himself, not one I would wish. He may stumble a time or three, but he has the ability to see, if he will only observe.”