Tomorrow's Shadow - 17. Another Farewell

Late the following night, Stefano walked in meandering circles around the grassy glen, staring at the blades of grass so recently bent under the weight of a wagon. The scent of autumn hung heavy in the air, accentuating the red and yellow highlights of the deciduous trees. Frustration carved a deep depression in his forehead; his normally ebony eyes had a crimson cast. “He was here, you can see he was here. But not now. Where has he gone? Why does he avoid me? Or avoid Viktor? I can understand him being angry at me for countermanding him, but he had no right to give me orders. He gave up that right when he abdicated. What is he doing?”

Gerik stood near their horses, his back to one of the taller trees. His attention was split between watching Stefano wander the ground and a red oak leaf he spun idly in his left hand. “I don’t know, Stef. Who can know the heart and mind of another? Especially one like your sire? Vargon is a strong, independent kindred.”

“Being a ‘strong, independent kindred’ is not an excuse for hiding from family. Certainly not for avoiding one’s Prince. Though, if it were anyone other than Vargon, I would be more concerned. With him should not need to sit and worry.” Stefano sighed heavily. “We should not tarry any longer. I must get to Arvis kumpania and speak with Runick. And you, dearest one, must get back to the Keep.”

Gerik crumbled the leaf in his hand before dropping it. He stepped into the clearing and snapped his fingers three times. Both horses looked up at the sound and came into the glen to stand before him. “There are times I wish I could accompany you, my love. Visiting Arvis is not one of them. Not with him there.” He slipped a boot into the stirrup and lifted himself atop Shadow; the gelding barely acknowledged his rider but continued grazing.

Stefano swung himself onto Zarchos. He barely had a chance to sit before the horse began prancing around, snorting. “Easy, boy. We will be moving soon.” He smiled at his chylde. “I would prefer not seeing Jence as well, Gerik, but he was instrumental in freeing us from the threat of Draxis. Actually ‘instrumental’ is not the word. He killed Draxis. Had he not come down at that point, I am not sure what would have transpired.”

Both men urged their mounts into a walk through the grove as Gerik responded. “We both know the only reason he came down is Viktor had summoned him from his trance state. I am perplexed that he survived his attack on Draxis. The fact is if we owe our survival to anyone, it is Viktor.”

“Definitely so. I am in awe over Viktor’s strength – he had to give so much to Jence in order to keep him conscious, not to mention on his feet and fighting. He continues to prove himself so much more than a simple manservant. I would also like to know how he knew Jence traveled with that dagger. Did he learn it from Sire, or does he know far more than he ever tells?” Stefano shook his head in wonder. “Viktor consistently amazes and surprises me.” He stopped Zarchos. “I shall miss you, holder of my heart.”

Gerik rode close then halted Shadow to lean over and kiss Stefano. “My thoughts will not stray from you. Please hurry home.”

Stefano returned the kiss, then smiled. “As the wind, beloved.” He clicked his tongue and pressed his heels to the horse’s flanks. Zarchos leapt into the night and disappeared in the shadows.

Gerik reached forward to pat his gelding’s neck. “Let’s go home, Shadow.” He likewise nudged the horse; Shadow quickly moved to a gallop and faded into the night. Learning to move his mount through shadow had not been easy for the kindred, but he had persevered. Now, as with walking in shadow, as long as they kept from direct light, they were gone from sight and sound. Avoiding streetlamps and light from houses was a simple task of keeping to the countryside. As he neared Atterstock, his longing to see his parents grew stronger. Since dawn was close he avoided the temptation to stop and instead headed for the island ferry, slipping out of the darkness once the landing was in sight.

-----

When Stefano rode into Arvis, the eastern sky was moving from black to a dark blue. He was met at the fire by Tre`ach, one of the elders of the kumpania. No one else was present. Stefano dismounted to take man’s arm in greeting.

Tre`ach could see the question in the prince’s eyes and answered it. “Friend Runick is no more, my Prince. He did leave a missive for you before he faded to shadow.” He handed Stefano a sealed paper. “I know you had planned on using one of the storage wagons, but it would make more sense to take Runick’s. I cleaned it out earlier this night, you should find it comfortable. We can speak more on this at next nightfall.”

Stefano nodded and walked to Runick’s wagon. He removed Zarchos’ saddle and bridle, then scratched the horse’s forehead lightly. “I will groom you properly on the morrow.” He paused and looked at Runick’s wagon, then the missive in his hand. Shaking his head, he stepped up into the wagon and prepared for the day.

Once the wagon was sealed, Stefano emptied a small pouch of dirt under the bottom coverlet before he slipped out of his clothes and sat down. He picked up the missive, broke the seal, and began to read.

My Prince and Friend,

I regret not being there to greet you, at least once more, but I tire of the emptiness of the night. We both know that life as a kindred can be richer and more rewarding than anyone could conceive, but it also can be empty, void of purpose and drive. It is within the void that I find myself of late, as we spoke of during your last visit.

The elders met at great length regarding Jence. There were not many that wished him to stay, most thought he should be ostracized. I was among that group. However, Friend Tre`ach gave good argument against banning. He spoke of your own reservations but also of your forgiveness after Jence killed the wolven. It is their decision that Jence be welcomed into the kumpania and that the general populace not be told of his past transgressions. He shall be watched closely, my Prince. Should he return to his offensive manners, he shall be removed swiftly.

As Jence was the last weight I carried, I soon found myself back at that place we discussed. I am sorry, my Prince, but I cannot continue to stand. I willingly give myself to the night and have asked my friends here at Arvis to dispose of my remains properly. I know they shall give the honor and respect due at such a time. I rest easy with my decision, dear friend, and ask that you not think too harshly on me for following through. May the Fates guard your path, Lord Prince.

~Runick

Written by me the eleventh night of the sixth month in the nine hundred and twentieth year of Grand Overseer Re’Fonya, may she rule in peace and in power.

He had scrawled a last note across the bottom of the sheet.

Stefano, if there be consciousness beyond the pyre, I shall remember you fondly.

Stefano stared at the signature date. Re’Fonya was the kindred to which all princes gave homage. All dates were in respect to her reign, as they had been for Overseer Re’Shen before her. He had arrived at Arvis at the birth of the twelfth eve. This was last evening. I missed seeing my friend by a small handful of hours because I worried over a sire that does not wish to be found. A mistake I intend never to repeat. He reverently refolded the missive and set it to the side, then burrowed into the protection of the coverlets and wept himself to sleep.

Early the next evening he kept his promise to Zarchos and brushed the stallion. He spoke to him throughout the exercise, calming the animal that still disliked being touched. After he finished he sought out elder Tre`ach. They sat near the camp’s center fire while Stefano smoked his pipe, blowing smoke rings into the updraft from the fire and watching them twist, deform, and reform before disappearing in the heat. As others rose they went about their normal activities. There was a group of six that were just outside the camp, building what appeared to be a long fire pit. Stefano’s curiosity grew as the firebase took shape.

“What happens there, my friend?” Stefano pointed off in the distance. “It almost looks like a roasting pit. Yet it is high for such, and no trench or pit was dug first.”

Tre`ach smiled. “It is a 'rug funerar', my Prince, Runick’s funeral pyre. We held back the sending of Friend Runick as we knew you were coming. We would not continue such without our Prince and Runick’s friend present.”

Stefano wiped at misty eyes. “I thank you, Tre`ach. It is an honor that cannot be repaid.”

“It was Runick’s wish, my Lord Prince. We simply honor his request.” He paused to watch the six workers for a moment, then turned back to Stefano. “I would imagine he did not speak of this in his missive, but he did have one more request.”

“He made no mention of anything. What is this request?”

“He wanted his Prince to speak at the pyre.”

Stefano paused only a moment. “I shall be honored.”

“Thank you, Lord Prince. Now, I believe the true purpose of this visit was to discuss Jence.”

“It was, and is. I need know how things with him lie. Is there still peace around him?”

“There is, my Prince. He keeps mostly to himself, often just outside his wagon. He will join us for general gatherings; Arvis residents all know him and accept him as just a quiet individual.”

“Then I have no actions to take. I am pleased to hear things are well with him.”

“Yes, my Lord. If you will,” Tre`ach stood, “the pyre awaits.”

The men walked over; Stefano took a place in front of the pyre on the left so to appear on the right for those gathered and still give viewing of the pyre itself. He stood there quietly, his mind racing on many issues from the pyre itself: to Runick’s decision, to Vargon, to Gerik and his parents, even to Viktor. When the crowd grew quiet he pulled himself to the present. He scanned those present quickly, seeking out Jence. Not finding him, Stefano turned with the others to watch the progression from the camp. Four men carried the pallet that bore Runick’s body. Although Stefano had not asked, he was certain the body had been prepared then kept during the day in a ‘gammera’ – a wagon used to store tools that worked in dirt, shovels, rakes, and the like.

As the progression grew near, the members of the Arvis community began speaking as if they talked with Runick himself. They wished him peace. They wished him joy. And they celebrated his victory over death. Stefano himself spoke gently, thanking his friend for the missive and envying him for his freedom from the mundane. When the pallet was placed over the prepared wood, a deep hush descended over the kindred. Stefano turned to face the crowd.

“Kindred of Arvis, my family – I speak to you as one with a wounded spirit. Runick was a great man as you know, elder of your community, friend to all who stood within the kumpnia. As a kindred, I mourn with you. As a friend, I mourn the loss of his presence and our conversations together. As a prince, I mourn his influence. It mattered not where he was, it was clear he was there. And he was accessible.”

Stefano paused as many spoke their affirmations and agreements with what had been said. When the kindred quieted, he continued. “I celebrate the life that was Runick te’Arvis. And I celebrate with him his peace and transfer beyond death itself.”

He stopped as Tre`ach stepped forward, holding a fire brand. As Tre`ach stepped near one end of the fire, four young mortals spread along the wood, each of them with fire as well. They lit the pyre as one, in perfect union, as Stefano turned to face the flame and spoke, his voice rich with the authority of a prince. “Din noaptea prin moarte, vedem te avânta. Cu tot ceea ce se afla dincolo, cânt`m pacea `i bucuria voastr` ve`nic`.” (From the night through death, we see you soar. To all that lay beyond, we sing your peace and your joy eternal.)

Stefano stepped back to one side as the people began to sing and speak their farewells. He began to wipe a tear from his face and stopped, allowing his remorse to flow freely. Anyone within earshot of him was surprised as he sang. It wasn’t often a prince sang, and rarely with the tone and clarity of Stefano’s voice.

“Adio, Runick. Pace a ta eterne de.”(Farewell, Runick. Peace eternal be yours.)

His voice dropped to a whisper as he spoke.

“Farewell, my good friend.”