The following afternoon, the sky was covered in a blanket of dull gray clouds. The only cheerful objects to ward away the dreary autumn weather were the formerly green leaves of the trees slowly changing to gold, brown and red. Joachim gazed out the large windows of his father's study. Before turning to sit in his chair, he glanced at Kyran, who was walking about the chamber carrying a piece of parchment and a quill. Every time the vassal stopped, his form hunched over, and one of his silvery eyes would linger upon the young lord before glancing away the moment Joachim's attempted to catch him in the act. For almost a half hour they had played their silent game of trying to interpret one other, with neither making progress.
"Milord, you must deal with these murders! They are getting out of control!" Kyran's rough voice attempted to jolt the young man back into reality, but Joachim had barely heard him speak, due to being lost in thought. "Lord Armster?"
Kyran's steely gaze locked upon the despondent youth, whose pale form seemed to disappear.
"What shall you do? Did you not hear about the bodies discovered this morning? What sort of despicable scoundrel would strip two men of their clothes and leave their corpses to rot in the streets? To think women and children have been exposed to such atrocities…"
His elderly frame sank into a chair in front of the desk.
Joachim could not find the will to look up. What he managed to mumble in response did not match the despair gradually enveloping him.
"Believe me, I was awoken and informed by one of my servants. If those two men were found unclothed, they may have been the murderer's willing companions with other intentions in mind before they were slain. Were they both not vagabonds from Brendelham?"
"Yes, but one of them was traveling through here to visit an uncle, and neither caused disruption within Creightel. After questioning the uncle, Maurizio informed me they decided to depart at nightfall. Those fools should have known the dangers that lurk at nighttime." Kyran's steady gaze probed Joachim carefully, but the young lord's thoughts were elsewhere. "You do not look well today milord." The vassal's statement was obvious. Even though Joachim had rested most of the day, his eyes revealed his weariness, and his skin was so pale that he resembled a ghost. Severe headaches plagued him throughout the day, and whenever he tried to walk, he was overcome with exhaustion.
Walter's visit the previous night left him restless and filled with nightmares. He slept so little that by the time the cathedral's bells tolled at dawn; he had just begun to slip into a semi-restful state. That came to an abrupt end when a servant rapped on his bedroom door and told him about the latest murder spree. The young man tried to comprehend what was happening to his once peaceful village, where not a single person had to walk the streets by night or daylight in fear, and mothers allowed their children to play well past the hour of sunset. As if instantly, people began locking their doors and latching their shutters, and it was rare for him to look out the windows of his manor and see even one child skipping down the village's cobblestone roads. Everything he remembered about his village was changing…
"Milord?"
Kyran's persistence caused an irritated glimmer to reap through Joachim's stagnant blue eyes. It had been long time since he felt so powerless. Joachim heaved his body out of the chair and slammed a fist against the surface of the desk.
"I know Kyran!" He hissed through gritted enamels. "I am doing all I can to find the one responsible. I may have to summon my knights back from the east if someone else dies! What more can be done? I can do nothing to stop this without means of identifying the culprit. All of my knights are in the crusades. This leaves no one to watch the streets at night. I pray others will not suffer a similar fate."
"Well milord, you must appease the populace somehow. Why not find some scoundrel to hold in custody as the perpetrator? People are satisfied if they see someone punished." Kyran suggested.
Yet again, Kyran's comments did not cease to cause aggravation, and Joachim hardly realized his nails practically dug into the wooden surface of the desk as he gave his vassal an impervious glare. "Out of the question." His voice hinged on rage but after a slight pause, he collected his emotions and sealed them beneath his firm reply. "What the hell are you thinking suggesting such an idea? Enough innocent lives have been ruined by these events! No one will become a scapegoat. If someone else dies whilst I hold an individual in custody, the people of Creightel would lose all faith in my abilities as their lord."
"Forgive me for saying this, but they already have." Kyran's cold gaze and outspoken opinions stunned him into a temporary silence. "Some dare to think you are the cause of all this. I think it is nonsense, for you are too ill to wander about the streets after nightfall, though I shall tell you tis' the older folk who believe that. Those who have inhabited this region for generations and believe in vampires."
Joachim could almost feel all the blood rush out of his face. Kyran's eyes widened, perhaps out of fear that he would suddenly collapse, through the young man grasped onto the desk and managed to steady himself.
"That is absurd!" His seething reproach made the vassal take a step back. "What is wrong with all of my subjects? Can not a single one of them eliminate that tiresome idea of vampire lore? If anyone dares to accuse me of committing these despicable crimes I shall cut out their tongue and have them publicly lashed!"
"Then you will be kept quite busy. You forget that your ways are not theirs, and civilized men like you and I are not accustomed to their beliefs. The Vatican has yet to establish an undisputed Catholic faith in this region."
As much as Joachim despised Kyran's words, he could not argue against them either.
"Mind you," Kyran added. "You are quite a pale man, Lord Armster. Vampires are notorious for their unnaturally fair skin but I would not linger upon the views of ignorant peasants. Rather than punish those who cannot hold their tongues, I suggest that you focus your attention upon the travesties committed against not only this village, but yourself as well. Many a man would be delighted to witness a lord's downfall, especially if that lord does not have an heir to claim his estate."
"I doubt these events are related to some kind of conspiracy against me." Joachim turned away toward the window, but to his disappointment all that he saw were dull gray clouds covering the sky outside. It was a bitterly cold afternoon, with a chilly wind to add to the gloom, and depressing matters to emphasize his ill mood.
"You do not have an heir." Kyran did not fail to emphasize. "You are already twenty and you have not married, either. A man your age should have married a woman to bear you an heir. Yet, you continue to remain in solitude when it is contrary to the interests of your family. If I remember, your father refused every attempt I made to find him a suitable wife. How strange t'was that Lady Arabella was irreplaceable-"
"Be silent!" Joachim whirled in place. For a second his hands clenched into quavering fists but the sight of Kyran's aged appearance prompted him to fall into an uneasy state of restraint. Nevertheless, he made no hesitation to reprimand the man for his tactlessness. "I told you to never talk about my father! My family is my own concern, regardless if I am the only Armster left. Perhaps some families were never meant to survive. I may be more like my father in that aspect than you realize."
Catherine. Her name echoed through his mind, and had never ceased to occupy his thoughts since the previous afternoon. If she could not accept him, why should he believe anyone else would? He had lost the game of love so his misery was his own fault. The man had no more respect for him than a commoner. The only man Kyran worshipped was Lord Zaeviean. Joachim knew full well he was not as harsh as his father, and not nearly so demanding of those who served him. Without his father, his vassal did not hesitate in saying whatever came to mind, and at the moment Joachim felt too weary to argue. Instead, he silently watched Kyran pace about the room, his long crimson robes swishing with each step he took as if it had been practiced, though his gaunt appearance was almost impossible to overlook. The top part of his head was bald, leaving a horseshoe shaped growth of gray hair around the back and little else to ease the harshness of his appearance. He was a slight, almost emaciated man, for his cheeks were sunken and the corners of his lips had permanent creases. Joachim always assumed the creases resulted from his constant frowns of disapproval.
"As you wish, milord, you have my apologies." The vassal made a rather hesitant bow. Joachim took note of the sheepish grin upon his vassal's lips. "I am only stressing the fact you have no heir. Do you want your valuables and your land to go to some scheming peasants? If the older ones in this village think you could be a vampire, I daresay they might try…desperate measures to end your reign. There must be someone who will inherit your property if anything should happen to you – God forbid."
Joachim placed a hand over his brow. The headache was becoming more unbearable, and Kyran's fervent gaze failed to relax him. "Fine." Joachim's lips became taut, and his brow furrowed upon noticing his vassal's gaze grow eager. "When one dies they cannot take their possessions with them, nor are possessions needed in what the church says is God's 'kingdom of heaven'." He waved a hand while once more retreating into the comfort of his chair.
"But milord," Kyran protested. "God also judges what one acquired in life – prosperity and wealth would be an ideal virtue if you desire to ascend into heaven. Not only that, but if you give plenty of your earnings to the church, you have ensured your soul will be saved."
"I do not recall reading any scriptures from the Bible about money granting me the salvation of my eternal soul." Joachim raised an eyebrow and folded his hands in front of him, unable to prevent a sarcastic smirk from playing across his lips. "I pray you my good vassal, do tell me where it says God will save you from purgatory if you bribe the church with gold? I have given plenty of it, but I do not feel saved from anything. Tis' man who values his golden idols and always will, no matter if his cause is in the name of God – in the end the intentions of mankind are still selfish and unchanging."
The young lord fell silent thereafter but unsurprisingly, the vassal nearly leapt out of the chair. "Blasphemy! Milord, I do protest how you crucify the holy name of our church! Why, if Father Genesio heard such sacrilege-"
"He would have me say fifty Hail Mary's – I have become quite familiar with that prayer, and you need not lecture me." He rolled his eyes and continued with a sigh. "This topic bores me. Now, what other business do we have to attend to? If there is nothing else, I wish to be left to my studies." The man did not move until the lord picked up the quill lying on the desk and began to write.
After a few moments of silence, Kyran made another deep bow and stepped toward the doorway. "As you wish, milord. I have nothing further to inform you. If I may, I advise you to perhaps read a few passages on vampires. I took the liberty to set a book regarding Romanian legends on the corner of your desk this morning before you awoke. The more you know on the subject of vampires, the easier it shall be to convince the populace their pitiful fears are primitive."
Joachim looked up from the parchments sorted on the desk. Just as he expected, a tattered book was set on the far corner, and the mere sight of it did not hide his visible air of distaste. With an exasperated huff, he picked up the book and slammed it down in front of him. It was not a very thick book, and when he flipped back the leather bound cover the scrawled words inside was barely legible. Look at this thing! He thought to himself drumming his fingers against its tattered pages. I can't believe my father kept this piece of trash in his library! Such a dreadful thing is not fit to be seen, let alone read for heaven's sake. I have no time to spare reading rubbish when my village is on the brink of a cataclysm.
"It would be in your best interests if you are well informed." Kyran insisted. "Whoever is responsible may not be a vampire, but if you and I continue to openly resist their reasoning, I fear it would cause unnecessary conflict. Remember: at the bat of an eyelid our presence in these lands could be jeopardized."
Yet again the vassal tried to prove that his words were true. Joachim stared at the book without bothering to look up and watch him leave. When he was alone, he turned the page and found himself staring at a picture depicting the rendition of a vampire looming over the bedside of a sleeping woman. The humanoid creature had nails that resembled razor sharp claws, and its lips were parted to unveil the points of needle-like fangs thirsting for the exposed neck of its unwary victim. It was a despicable image, though he could not deny he found the vampire somewhat intriguing even though it was merely folklore. Not long after the young lord began to skim through the contents of the book. Page after page showed gruesome hand drawn depictions of the undead, how they slept in coffins by day and wandered the lands searching for blood by night – their very existence unnatural and eternal. He did not realize one of his hands wrapped itself around the crystal he wore, nor did he notice his every move was being watched.
His heart nearly stopped when a familiar voice made him jump in his chair. "Well Joachim, I see you have finally begun to realize the undead do walk the earth!"
The knight leaned against the desk and peered over at the book, but the moment his invading eyes sought to read its contents Joachim snapped the book shut. "Maurizio! What are you doing here? You are supposed to be-"
"Don't remind me! I thought I would pay you a visit." Maurizio's lips curved into a wide grin, and his dark brown eyes glittered when Joachim leaned back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest. The incensed young lord could not believe the normally noisy knight had entered his study without even announcing himself, however his very image expressed nothing except exhaustion. "My, you look dreadful!" Maurizio cocked his head. The young lord tried to avoid meeting the man's curious gaze. "I would say you are as pale as death my friend. I have not seen you in nearly two days – why are you keeping yourself locked up like this? Look at what that has done to you; you look like one of those destitute beggars on the streets!"
"I did not ask for your opinion on my appearance today." Joachim shoved the book aside and tried to look away, but his action failed to make the knight yield in the least.
"You're rather grouchy as well if I may say so!" Maurizio added to the growing displeasure creasing the corners of the lord's lips. "Though you cannot be blamed for that, I think you should account for your actions recently. Everyone is talking about how you stormed out of the tavern the other night, not to mention some are telling me you and the Lady Catherine had quite a troublesome exchange of words as of late. Can I be of any assistance?"
The smile did not vanish from his lips, and without waiting he eased himself into the chair in front of the desk. Joachim's brow furrowed the instant Maurizio dared to ask, but his face paled to a most colorless shade from hearing him mention Catherine.
"I don't require your assistance with personal matters." He replied in a warning whisper, and articulated every word so sharply his friend's anticipating smile faded. "What have you heard about Catherine? Why would you think I would dream of involving you in my affairs? The fact I feel quite unwell is why I have remained indoors. Despite my condition I am still trying to discover the murderer whilst you loiter around and accomplish nothing."
"Call my accomplishments nothing if you will but I cannot find something from nothing, Lord Armster." Contrary to Joachim's dulled mood, the knight's voice rang with unhindered amusement. "You must relax, my friend! What you need is a good woman to spend the night with. Believe me; whenever I get myself in unfavorable situations, a woman is about the only creature that can eliminate the drudgery of everyday knighthood. I bet if you could wield a woman as well as your sword you would be far less stressed-"
"Women are not objects for your personal gain! May I also remind you of your chivalrous vows, in that you are to be respectful of a lady, not ready to bed with the first attractive one you see!"
The young lord shook his head, his weary eyes curtained by the strands of soft white hair. Without awaiting his friend's reply, he rose to his feet and swept out of the room, his long robes fluttering in his wake while Maurizio trailed after him in like a canary in the presence of a cat. The only difference was the fact Joachim lacked claws, but possessed a tongue so sharp his words alone could puncture through almost anyone he pleased.
"For God's sakes," The lord stormed through the hallways. It was unclear whether or not he was entirely ignoring the knight accompanying him. "Must I do everything myself? It seems all of my subjects are nothing but damned fools-"
Just as they arrived at the entrance to the great hall, Joachim skidded to a halt and almost doubled over when Maurizio collided into his backside. The two men stared at the young woman waiting silently by the doorway. The mere sight of her made Joachim's eyes narrow and drift beyond her, as if her presence was no more than a figment of his imagination.
"Good afternoon, Joachim."
Not even the sound of her voice aroused any emotion to change his unfeeling expression, and without a word he continued onward until he had passed the lady by without a second glance. It did not surprise him to hear the sounds of her steadfast footsteps pursuing him, though without breaking his gaze ahead he walked toward the large windowpanes lining the hall, where streams of faint gray light splashed against the ornate marble floor.
"Leave us, Maurizio." Joachim blinked when he stood within the light, and half-turned to cast the knight a warning glare the moment a look of objection spread across the younger man's face.
"As you wish…" Maurizio replied, and after returning the glare with a reluctant one of his own, he whirled and moved off down the hall, his long red cape swishing in unison with his disappointed strides.
A chilling silence soon enveloped the entire hallway. Joachim returned to casting his dead gaze upon the rolling gray clouds that shadowed the sun's warm light, his face automatically paling a shade whiter from picturing her despondent expression in his mind. An uneasy shiver tingled through his body, making him shift in place, but once he settled again his smooth countenance remained unchanged by the heavy weight of sadness he felt inside his dejected soul. No matter how hard he tried, he could not save a part of himself from the slow, unending death he awoke to every morning. Forever his weakened state reminded him of the precious things he would never obtain – and the one who caused him the severest form of loss stood only a few feet behind him.
"I see you won't speak to me," Catherine's voice was oddly faint, and he jumped as if her words enticed some form of unknown threat. Instead, he felt one of her soft hands rest upon his shoulder before it slid up his arm to caress the cold flesh of his cheeks. "The other day…I did not mean to wound you so deeply. You are the only one I feel close to…more than my own father. If only I could show you the pain I carry in me, a terrible pain that shall never let me feel happiness again. You have given me so much, and there is so much I want to give you in return-"
"You can't fool me, Catherine."
Despite the reflection of sorrow in his pale irises, his voice lashed her as ruthlessly as a punisher's whip. The force of his pain had a will of its own to drive her back, but her comforting touch never relented, though in his mind he could almost see the tears beginning to build in her gorgeous emerald eyes. Nevertheless, he drew in a breath and made a conscious effort to keep his voice monotone so that his contempt would remain beneath the surface of his pale exterior.
"I have come to terms with my fate. I cannot have the things everyone else takes for granted. My soul is trapped in this wretchedly pathetic body, and as long as I am stricken by this illness for which there is no cure, I imagine I will die within a year's time. Everyday it takes its toll upon me, and I have not the strength left to fight it."
"Please don't say such things! You will live; for you are a man so great I am not worthy of looking upon you. Would you believe me if I told you more than anything I want to be your wife?"
Catherine's voice was soft, but hinged on losing the thin amount of composure he knew was under the most intense amount of strain. The young man slowly turned in place so that his pale optics could lock against hers, noting the image of utter sorrow in her normally bright eyes for the first time. The lady's eyes were no less dark and worn than his, and she avoided meeting his gaze when he did not give an immediate response.
"Would you believe me…?" The soft words filled echoed through his mind, his eyes watching her every move as she leaned close to him and buried her face against his chest. "Is it so difficult for you to know I love you, and I have watched you deteriorate every single one of those days since we met? Joachim…if I married you…and lost you…my whole world would die with you."
"All I can do is pray you will be much happier not having to burden yourself because of me. My entire existence has brought everyone else nothing but hardship."
The lord made a defeated sigh, before his delicate lashes fluttered shut, trying to hold back from watching the tears falling from her eyes like droplets of rain. Catherine's body brought him much needed warmth, and her arms embraced him with the sincerest form of compassion he could ever feel during his time of distress, however the knowledge of his own physical limitations prompted his lips to form a deepening grimace.
"I suppose I was wrong to ask so much of you. My time is limited on this earth, and for you to marry me out of pity would be unjust."Joachim's eyelids lifted open from feeling her embrace tighten around him.
The soft sounds of her sobs were muffled against his chest, and he had to use nearly all of his will power to not soothe her. It reminded him of the unhappy days he spent in bed, literally locked within his room, and during his darkest hours she came and cheered him like no other had. For many, someone in his condition was a wasted effort, but during all the years he knew her, she never possessed a vindictive heart to turn him away. If only he could have had her hope and her fervor for life, but his life was spent in constant isolation and ridicule, forced to be hated by many and loved by few. No appearance of pity crossed his face, for he resigned himself to remain cold and unfeeling, but the soft shine of his eyes unveiled the tempest of regret and sorrow churning beneath his wan exterior.
The disheartened young man exhaled an uneasy sigh the moment Catherine's tear-streaked face tilted, and her eyes fixed themselves upon the impassive visage he struggled to maintain. Almost without warning, she made an overwhelmed wail. "I don't want you to die! Please don't die, Joachim! I cannot see myself living a normal life without you! You can't leave me alone in this world, not yet, not when there is so much we can-"
"Catherine, I gave you the dearest part of me…my heart. You knew from the moment we met my life would be brief. I am only telling you what you already know, and what I will face inevitably someday soon."
Joachim found himself shying away from her touch, his feet moving his stiff frame backward to avoid her warm hands from convincing him otherwise. For a moment his gazed lingered upon the gray sky and the shaded sunlight shining upon his worn body, at last making the woman gasp from seeing his miserably frail appearance. There had always been a hint of refinement in his face and the reserved but proud way he carried himself, though during the moment of her silence all of it seemed as opaque as his flesh. His lips formed into a half-hearted smile, though the expression required great effort.
"I would die happy if I knew you had someone else to share your love with. Do not hold your heart for me alone. If Lord Bernhard is the one you adore, you have my blessing. At least I will know an able bodied man cares for you and can provide you everything I cannot. No woman would want to spend her days cooped up with a bedridden husband."
"That's not true!" Catherine sobbed, and between the streams of tears flooding from her gazing eyes, her voice quavered with pain.
Scarcely did he have time to react before her arms were wrapped around him again, holding him close to her as if at any moment his fragile body would turn to dust. Truly, her devotion startled him, and within the pale light she too resembled a woman whose love was so deep she would follow him in his fate.
"Its not that simple! You cannot read the feelings in my heart like you read your father's books! Lord Bernhard is an interesting man, but I do not know him like I know you, and I will never love him as I love you. Please …stay with me…it would make me feel better if you do."
Joachim froze in place, his lips unable to move, and his heart barely beating in his chest. No one wanted to seek support from a sickly young lord, but Catherine's grief-torn sobs refused to leave his memory. It was not that long ago when he made the same plea to her, and found a new reason for persevering when she could not abandon him. The envelope of coldness around him melted, and the tenseness in his muscles eased, while he pulled her closer to him so that he could take some comfort in the temporary moment of holding her in his arms. His lips trembled, and his breaths shortened to try and restrain his own form of sadness from being released, a sadness that persisted in rising to the surface as his eyes lingered upon the portrait of his mother displayed prominently upon the great hall's farthest wall.
"My mother…"
Heaving a sigh, his arms released from around her, and he distanced himself from her touch once again. The young lord walked to the large painting and extended his delicate hand toward it. In a softened voice, he glanced at the woman before returning his attention upon the portrait.
"My mother…died giving birth to me. This painting is all that shows me what she looked like before I was born. Somehow…I can almost sense that she knew her child would be born weak. I have no idea why a woman of her kind and gentle nature would wed a heartless man like my father. If you knew what it felt like to be the reason why she died, perchance you would understand why my life should be brief."
"Don't say things like that…" Catherine's voice died to a low whisper, and her dress swept with her steps as she walked toward him. "Why must you condemn yourself? T'was no fault of yours, and she must have loved you dearly to surrender her life so you would live. You have never spoken about her till now…if only you told me you felt this way before…"
Catherine's bright green eyes drifted to gaze upon the portrait of an elegant young woman donned in a flowing white dress. The lady's serene blue eyes seemed to gaze upon her onlookers with benevolence, and the radiant shade of her long blond hair shimmered like rays of sunlight on an autumn afternoon.
"Lady Arabella…" Catherine tried to form her lips into a smile when she stood next to Joachim's pale form and maintained her gaze upon the portrait. "Your mother was a beautiful woman. Although you may resemble your father, I can tell now why your eyes are so different from his, for you received her compassion."
A faint smile managed to form across Catherine's lips, but the emotion was a short-lived contradiction to the storm of turmoil he saw within her eyes. Yet, she seemed to gain a bit of comfort admiring Lady Armster. The tales many told of the beauty of lord Armster's young wife were far from falsehood, and the faded painting depicted a fair and angelical creature that seemed undeserving of the simple word 'woman'. The white folds of her dress flowed around Lady Armster's lithe frame like remnants of untainted wings, and seemed so real one could be tempted to try and reach out hoping such a woman might take their hand and lift them into the heavens. For many long years, Joachim dreamed his mother would be more than a simple picture.
"Although…" He almost did not hear Catherine whisper. "She seems so very…sad. Though her smile is kind, she hides something melancholic – which I have recognized by observing you wear the same expression upon your face, Joachim."
Without another word she turned to him and stared at his drawn visage, but yet again he tried to recede from her watching eyes, however a persisting hand crept beneath his chin and lifted his head. Joachim fought within himself to object, however he was taken-aback by the close proximity in which she stood next to him, and his lungs seared as if his breaths had been halted by her unwavering gaze. Once she had obtained his immediate attention, she returned his thoughts to the portrait.
"Joachim, what is that object she wears around her neck? Is it some sort of pendant?"
At first he knew not what she meant, and could not answer her curious question. However, he soon noticed source of her curiosity when he stared at the painting for a long time. Just as she said, a glittering black stone was secured around the lady's fine neck by an ornate gold chain. With a reminiscent sigh, he turned away from the portrait.
"It may have been a necklace from my mother's jewelry collection. After she died, my father kept her valuables and clothing, for it seems he could not bear the thought of selling them. Anneliese showed me the jewelry and clothes my mother wore but I cannot recall the existence of that particular pendant. I imagine the artist of this portrait painted it for additional effect."
"Never mind then. There are all sorts of stones in this world, and often I cannot tell one from another."
The lady shook her head and moved away from the portrait, but when she turned she was face to face with the white-haired lord once again. The look of guilt in his eyes prompted her supple lips to purse in question, and in return Joachim enclosed his hand around hers, turning her hand so that her palm was locked against his. The gesture was so simple and unexpected it made her temporarily oblivious to the dear object he passed from his hand and into hers.
The silence in which he completed the task was broken as her eyes welled with tears, and his hand lifted away from hers to unveil the familiar crystal strung by a matching jeweled chain.
"W-Why are you doing this?" She whispered in a voice choked with despair, her hand containing the crystal trembling.
"I cannot keep your pendant. I thought it should be returned to you."
Joachim's cold stare froze the young woman in place as though his azure eyes turned her into an ice sculpture. Without blinking she clenched her fingers around the crystal that created prisms across the smooth surface of the floor from the pale sunlight dancing through its clear structure. The young lord could no longer bear to see her breaking in front of his eyes, and he turned his face away to avoid accepting the weight of guilt seeping into his mind.
"This object reminds me of the fact who I desire most in this world can never be mine. Forgive me."
"How…how could you…?" Tears spilled down her face, and she crumpled to the floor clutching the crystal necklace in her hands.
For a moment he listened to the soft sounds of her weeping, but he had reached the point the sounds would drive him mad if he could not find the courage to walk away. He barely realized his feet were carrying him across the floor until he looked up and almost slammed into the doors. In his wake he heard Catherine's voice shake in dismay.
"How could you give up life…and me…without shedding a tear?" The sorrow-filled accusation echoed through his tumultuous thoughts, but as always his lips remained silent, due to knowing he could not give her any kind of answer that would seem sensible. Instead, he lowered his head shamefully while keeping his eyes averted.
No sooner did his hand lift to grasp the door handle than did the two doors swing back, momentarily startling him, until he looked upon Maurizio and a servant standing on the other side.
"What do you think you're doing?" Joachim's snapped at them both, his pale optics flashing a visible flare of ill temperament when Maurizio was too astonished by his rage to respond. "I am not to be disturbed for the rest of the day! Maurizio – why not come in useful for once and escort Lady Catherine home. I feel unwell, and I would like to have a moment's peace so I may rest."
"What on earth did you say to her?" Maurizio's eyes widened, evidently proving the knight had looked beyond the lord's shaken form to see the woman weeping on the floor like a lilac withered by a vicious gale. "So, you lecture me on how to treat a woman, yet I see before me the dirge of a lady's grief! My God, after spending twenty minutes with a woman you leave her in tears!"
Every part of Joachim's will restrained him from striking the knight across the face. Instead, his lips curled whilst he placed a hand over his forehead. "It's none of your concern! You best forget you witnessed this sight."
"My apologies, milord. Besides, you are becoming too unstable, and Vassal Kyran requested I keep an eye on you."
The knight's adamant protest caused a bitter sneer to cross Joachim's trembling lips. "You can hardly keep an eye on yourself, and you reek of ale – wash yourself before you speak to me."
With a feral huff, the young lord swept passed the gaping fellow, and nothing from his furious demeanor hinted he would steal a backward glance.
The rest of the afternoon passed by slowly. Joachim had since taken it upon himself to remain locked inside his room until the sun dwindled over the horizon in the distance. Although the sky was still a dreary gray, he could see the golden sphere of light begin to subside as the night's cold grip sought to seize the earth in a long spell of darkness. The days were shortening, and autumn seemed to be over before it could begin, though the pale snow of the approaching winter was hardly surmountable to the cold gleam of the nobleman's poignant blue eyes. Just as he had during his childhood, he resigned himself to gazing at a world out of his reach. The cold weather would mean countless hours confined inside the manor, and he wondered whether he would last another winter without Catherine to visit him. Under the best circumstances, he hoped he would die in his sleep during a night when a soft snowfall blanketed the barren earth. He fancied leaving the drapes of his windows open so that whilst he lay in bed, he could watch the silent snowflakes drift through the black night sky and lull him into a sleep from which he would never awaken.
The winter suited him perfectly after all, for he realized his coldness rivaled the snow itself, and the silence he kept was no less impassive against those who tried to comfort him. It came to him during his long hours of contemplation he desired no comfort from anyone. The idea of being pitied disgusted him as it was, and to attract more unneeded attention made him even more withdrawn. The idea of touching Catherine with his frail hands was simply unthinkable, let alone the thought he would be able to lie with her every night, her graceful figure occupying the lonely half of his bed he knew no other wished to fill. How foolish he had been when he invented the idea of turning a friend into a lover, without realizing love had the potential to destroy them both.
If I had half the strength my father possessed, I would have comforted her when she needed me most. I would have offered her an explanation to account for the cold manner in which I treated one so generous and empathetic. All of this is my doing, and tis' my guilt alone to carry. After I die my memory will drift from her thoughts like leaves in the wind, and at last she will be able to be at peace with herself…and so will I.
The lord forced himself to remain distant from everything to the point he did not hear a loud rapping sound upon his bedroom door. The noise continued unrelentingly, until his feeble body whirled and sought to put an end to the incessant interruption. His hollowed eyes traced the length of the thick door before him, the nose echoing through his distorted thoughts. After sighing to himself, his hand mechanically grasped the doorknob and pulled it open. The motion was so strained it paralleled his apprehensive expression, but as always his emotions were brought to the brink of their frustration when he saw Maurizio waiting on the other side.
The knight's silver armor gleamed in the candlelit corridor, and his shining brown eyes were focused upon the pale nobleman intently. Maurizio almost jumped back as if surprised Joachim had bothered to answer, and shifted when icy blue eyes stared in a fashion that was oddly intimidating for belonging to a being whose remarkable fairness rivaled a dove's. It seemed another means of apprehensive greeting was added to the awkward situation when the white-haired youth purposely leaned against the doorframe, while giving the man a glower of immense displeasure.
"I told you not to disturb me." Joachim's voice was monotone, but still hinged on the barest thread of outrage, his eyes shooting daggers at the boisterous knight.
Nevertheless, Maurizio threw himself into the dangerous situation ignorant of the emotions boiling beneath Joachim's inexpressive eyes. "Are you going to come out now? I wish you would cease your sulking and join me in the great hall. The servants told me you refused dinner, and unless you want poor Catherine's heart to give way after what you have done, I request your company without delay."
Joachim remained indifferent to the concerned suggestion. "I am not interested. I told you to escort Catherine home."
"She is in no condition to go anywhere, and you are in no condition to go nowhere. Please my friend, do not make me drag you out by that fine hair of yours."
At first Joachim was tempted to slam the door in his face and retreat into solitude, but after emitting a reluctant sigh, he emerged from the room and stepped into the corridor. A sense of exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he had to lean against the wall to stay standing, while ignoring any motion of help the knight tried to offer.
"Leave me be." He murmured. "I will take a walk for a few minutes if it means you will leave me in peace. Then I will see to Catherine as soon as my strength returns."
"Excellent." Maurizio managed a smile, but it was not returned. "Where would you like to venture to? How about the study room or the gardens outside – we may as well breathe the air whilst it is sill free of winter's chill."
The knight's voice fell silent when Joachim made a slow shake of his head. "Maurizio…this is not the time for your usual antics. If you want to help me…let me walk alone."
"Alone?" The younger man's voice rang with disbelief. "The whole reason why I called on you is to ensure you have someone accompanying you. However, considering you do not seem yourself, I will accept the fact you will not be cooped up in your room all day."
Maurizio's dark eyes glittered in faint apprehension, though the smile he wore seemed to replace it – or better yet try to hide it from white-haired lord's tired gaze. Although Joachim's changing moods evidently bothered him, he took a step back, giving the frail creature a bit of much-needed distance. If the circumstances had been less intense, Joachim would not have been so critical of the fellow, for the man was still young and rambunctious. It was a life that could have been his as well, and perhaps a distinct form of jealousy kept the bitter scowl pressed across his lips. More than anything he wanted to be knight when he was a boy, and be given the privileges and honors that profession bestowed upon fortunate men of noble birth. Not only that, but there was something about the knight he could not trust no matter how much he wanted to. Maurizio flaunted about with almost any woman in the village, including the twittering female gossips Jezebel and Emmaline. When it first began he tried to believe it was because Maurizio was simply flirting with them on a casual basis, but over time the knight's drinking habits had worsened, and his consideration toward those he associated with seemed to attach itself to his liking of ale. In simpler times Joachim's fellowship with the knight had been enjoyable. He watched the younger knight make a formal bow and speak with as much cheer as the somber situation allotted.
"I will go and investigate the murders. If I discover anything of interest, I shall inform you immediately."
A soft smile creased the corners of the knight's lips, and in barely a moment the man disappeared down the empty corridor.
Joachim turned the opposite direction to begin his trek toward the great hall.
With mechanical steps he moved down the corridor, hearing nothing around him except silence. Not even a single servant happened to enter from the many rooms lining his particular wing of the manor, but he remembered it was his own orders that prevented a single interruption from distracting him. No one was to disturb him, and since the servants were wary of his father's ill moods that were not so unlike his own, none ever dared to disobey. The pale young man moved with stealthy steps, his body feeling unusually out of sync with his desire to press onward. Not a second later he fell against the wall. The shock from the sudden wave of dizziness startled him, and his lungs ached in demand for the air his gasping breathes had difficulty inhaling. It felt like his entire chest was being crushed by some unseen torturer, and he was quite content to believe that if there was a God, the almighty God was receiving pleasure from his pain.
In defiance, a perturbed grumble erupted through his throat, and he forced his body away from the wall. The experience still lingered as he resumed walking. The corridor gave the illusion of being twice as long during his faint state
He almost staggered back when he noticed Catherine standing on the other side of the adjoining corridor. At first, his lips tried to move in an effort to speak, but his throat became oddly constricted.
Catherine appeared to have regained her composure. The lady's bright emerald eyes no longer brimmed with tears, but the remnants of the salty liquid still stained her delicate cheeks, and she did not make an effort to address him. At the same time however, she did not rebuke him either. All at once his steps felt heavier as if lead had been tied to his boots, but one of his trembling hands reached out to her, trying to seek her warm embrace or something of her sweet smile he all but destroyed because of his sullenness.
"Please…" His voice choked in a faint whisper, and the very attempt to speak made him fatigued. "Don't…hate me Catherine. It's my fault…all of your suffering…has been because of me. Why do you stay?"
Before he realized it, his feet gave way. The instant the brief sensation of weightlessness enveloped him; he already began to await the hard jolt from his body hitting the hard floor. The pale nobleman's eyes drifted upward to gaze upon the black ringlets, and the large green bow set neatly in the thick lovely tresses. A lady's sympathetic eyes looked down upon him, accompanied by a reassuring hand stroking his smooth cheeks as her soft fingers skimmed through his silky white hair.
"You know why." She whispered in his ear, and the words gave the renewed strength he needed, enough so that he accepted her hand and was able to stand upright. "Come. Let me put you to bed. You have endured enough for one day, Joachim."
Compliantly, he walked with her back down the corridor, his steps weak but still sturdy enough so he could move. Catherine's reassuring hold on his arm gave him renewed confidence, and her bright green eyes did not leave his paling form for a moment. They made their trek in silence, which was neither awkward nor relaxed, but still out of the ordinary for them both. Her eyes looked upon him in a way he could not recall seeing before, and she appeared as if she would speak, but not a single sound escaped her until she led him into his chamber. The room was a great deal darker since the sun fled from the invading night, and streams of moonlight appeared across the bedspread and floor as if a great goddess had spilt the milky white illumination throughout the room.
Joachim did not know she led him to the bed until she helped him lay down, and heard the soft rustle of covers being tucked tightly around him. When she finished, he caught the silhouette of her lithesome figure straightening in the shadow of the full moon looming in the sky. The clouds finally cleared, and through the grace of the moonlight, he saw the woman whose beauty surpassed the moon itself.
Softened green eyes gazed down upon him for a long moment, observing his pale face and fragile outline within the darkness. Upon watching her turn to leave, his hand seemed to be controlled by an unconscious force, and her wrist was soon seized by his gentle hold. The lord's voice became so soft his lips barely moved.
"Please…stay with me." Joachim's refused to blink, as though fearing she would vanish.
The lady seated herself at the edge of the bed, hesitantly resuming her gentle gaze upon him so that his wanting heart could take in the refined contours of her face. The room was so quiet he could hear her breaths quickening, almost as if he was able to listen to the rapid pace of her heart pounding against her ribcage.
A nervous smile formed across her lips before she whispered uncertainly. "What do you need, Joachim?"
"You." Joachim's lips barely moved with his answer, but he gave her no time to consider it before he sat up and pulled her into his arms.
Hungry lips covered hers, his body drawing her into his embrace. The lady made no will to struggle but instead wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, her smile broken by a short gasp when his lips wandered to her throat and tenderly kissed the warm flesh. Her hands untied the corset of her dress, so the garment fell away from her shoulders and exposed her naked figure in the moon's pale light.
Joachim could hardly take in the sight before her hands slid behind his back and untied the connecting leather binds of his armor one by one, until she freed him of his clothing. In a matter of moments, his bare and pale body blended with the moonlight. Catherine pulled the covers back and laid between his legs, undaunted by the look of shame that spread across his face. An aroused moan erupted through his throat as soon as she reached his swollen organ and stroked the coils of pale, white hair. The gradual motion initiated a burst of pleasured sensations through him, but when he dared to steal a glimpse, he could not withhold a shocked gasp from escaping his throat.
Catherine smiled at him in the darkness, her reassuring voice easing his unnerved expression. "Relax…I promise you…I will give you everything you have ever desired, for my body and soul are yours."
"But are you certain-" His eyes gazed into hers, stifling his question when her hips rested over his, giving his shaking hands no alternative except to cling to the sheets when she made a slow motion forward. Pain briefly dampened her smile; though it lifted in conjunction to the words she tried to say through breathless gasps as her gentle figure rocked in a slow, wistful rhythm, her pearl tightening and encouraging his inexperienced body to follow her movements. He struggled to comprehend the rhythm she invoked from his body, as if a magnetic force kept them joined during their union, and the fear of the unknown died away in the instinctive desire to fill her with himself. Catherine's arms tightened around his back, and his gaping mouth struggled to keep in silence during the explosions of pleasure encompassing him as her hot words breathed in his ear.
"My feelings are absolute… so let me show you…the reaches of my love for you tonight." With each motion of her hips, his lips withdrew a gasp, and with each whimper of pleasure she made his eyes froze open to admire her mesmerized expression. He felt the circular contours of her breasts press against his chest as she lay over him, and could not withhold a cry from erupting though his throat as her nipples brushed against his lips. The youth stared at the sight in astonishment, at first hesitating like a frightened child, until her hands cupped his face and her dainty fingers danced across his hot cheeks. She rocked against him with such force his lips parted in a gratified moan.
The invigorating sensation she wrought within him made his projecting organ force its way further inside her. In response, she wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him closer to her. The young man's cheeks tinted a shade of red with embarrassment, but what met his shy display was the brief sound of her chuckling at him, until her frame suddenly sat up.
She straddled him between her legs and gazed down at him, her emerald eyes glinting and her raven hair dampened by perspiration. One of his hands ran down the side of her torso to her thigh, squeezing the delicate flesh, before reaching to touch the dark coils of hair covering her most sensitive region. Not a moment passed before he withdrew and cast his eyes away from her in shame. Everything he was enjoyed what she was giving him, but a small part of him failed to accept it without realizing something in exchange would be lost – her innocence. Tears began to build in his crystalline eyes, and he kept his watch averted from her nakedness, from the fact she was no longer an innocent young girl. It shamed him to know he took pleasure touching every aspect of her, of feeling her breasts and tasting her lips, and his selfish satisfaction of knowing he treasured every moment of their union.
His thoughts were broken by the gasps she enticed from his parted lips, and he looked up at her entranced face, once again meeting her eyes. When she rocked her hips against him, each motion drew him further within her depths. The lady's chest heaved alongside the forward swivels of her hips as her head fell back and the coils of her thick black hair tumbled in untidy layers over her shoulders. Her pace increased until he could scarcely respond except to wrap his arms around her lower back and use his gentle hold to keep himself inside her. Each time she rocked against him, her throat vibrated a moan of pleasure, which heightened upon feeling him begin to quickly pump against her. The pace of his sudden movements forced her to temporarily relent in surprise, and before long her slender figure shook in response to his sudden attainment of momentum.
Without warning, he sat up so their faces were inches apart, tightening his arms around her as she wrapped her legs around his torso. The lady's arms embraced him, welcoming his endeavor as he leaned into her and pleasured her while sitting upright. His mouth covered hers in a deep kiss, whilst his delicate frame rocked against her harder, and the sounds of his cries lost in the pleasures and warmth of her body.
Forever he belonged to him, and even if that night would be the only night they spent together, he would carry that memory with him until his dying day.
Catherine…if only you could know how deep my love is for you…
…But even if you never know…
I always will.
Joachim shielded his eyes from the blinding rays of sunlight pouring over his pale face. One hand weakly shielded his stinging eyes, as the other pulled back the covers but threw them over his body from the cold chill of the early morning. The graceful lids covering his optics fluttered open, awakening him to the vague sensation of reality as he sat up in bed. Immediately, his stunned reaction from finding his body bare made his hand clutch the covers and hike them over his chest, while his wild gaze swept the room.
After ensuring no one was about, he looked next to him in the bed and found it was just as empty as it had been every morning. He blinked several times to adjust to the sunlight, at first lost in the confused array of thoughts in his mind, until he made a long yawn and stretched the tenuous muscles in his arms. Although the bed sheets were somewhat ruffled, he could not discern exactly what occurred, and the fact nothing was disturbed made him believe it had all been a dream. Perhaps during his disoriented state he had been hallucinating and returned to bed. It was a logical enough conclusion, since the alternative would have been impossible.
The warbler outside his window twittered in welcoming of the dawn, and after sitting monotonously for over twenty minutes, he threw back the covers and placed his feet upon the cold floor. At any moment a servant would call on him and bring him breakfast. His eyes searched the room for his robes, and he was unsurprised when he saw them hanging neatly in the open closet, his armor set upon his dresser like always before he went to bed, so when he awoke the servant would be able to find it and assist him putting it on.
Joachim walked lightly across the icy cold floor until something sharp pierced into the sole of his foot. Taken aback, his eyes narrowed, and he bent over to move whatever he almost crushed. Perhaps something had fallen off his dresser and rolled over on the floor next to his bed, as things did every so often when a servant cleaning the room knocked something over.
The curious lord staggered back in disbelief when he saw what it was.
The crystal pendant.
The winter snow usually came before December, but the gentle autumn kept its firm shield poised against the awaiting frost, which left the ground free of ice. The farming serfs went to the village cathedral every day to pray for snow to blanket their fields and freeze the lands, so by springtime when it melted the ground would be moist enough to nurture the seeds of future crops. It was late December in Creightel, and the village was close to teetering over the edge of chaos. Although the villagers rarely spoke of the murders, many blamed the lack of snow on vampires, and many more looked to the manor with tired eyes thirsting for retaliation.
None knew whom their hatred was focused upon better than the white-haired youth, whose calculating blue eyes seemed to stab in unison to his sword as his feet moved across the floor in graceful dance-like motions. The loud clash of metal spoke instead of his lips, and although every aspect of his body was exhausted by the endless nights he spent brooding over what to do.
"Keep your guard up, Maurizio." He muttered between the clashing of their swords, as the luminous glint of the blades flashed under the warm sunlight.
It hardly took him any effort to swing his arm again and again, before blocking the knight's constant attempts to subdue him. Although Maurizio craved a sparring match every once in a while, the knight relented every time Joachim aimed a powerful blow against the rival blade. After making a final well-aimed strike; Joachim pressed his sword against Maurizio's, taking the knight by so much surprise that he forced the blade inches away from the man's neck.
"Alright! You've bested me at this – now if you please, I would prefer it if you did not keep your weapon so near to my throat!" Maurizio glared at the smirking young lord, who promptly withdrew his sword away from the vulnerable flesh.
"My apologies, friend." Joachim stepped back as the knight recovered and ruffled the collar of his surcoat. "You have improved since our last spar but your concentration this morning is lacking."
"I have been thinking about what is happening to our village – and to you." Maurizio replied as he sheathed his sword. "Everyone's allowing this terrible circumstance to ruffle his or her feathers, so to speak. If I were you, I would not venture into the village for a while."
"And why not?" Joachim inquired, his eyes squinting in the bright light shining through the large windowpanes of the great hall. In the morning, the hall's elaborate architecture was no less beautiful than the inside of a cathedral since it faced the rising sun.
Maurizio looked out the window, his shoulders tensing. "Well…many of the villagers have been threatening to take matters into their own hands. I fear some blame you for their suffering – they think you are responsible for the deaths. Those dregs know nothing of you, but they are quick to condemn whoever conveniently fits their idea of a devil."
"Fools." The white-haired lord scoffed, whilst he gripped the handle of the blade tighter. All at once his lips formed an irritated scowl, and he was tempted to drive the metallic weapon into the floor. "They will soon find that blaming me won't bring back their loved ones. If I wish to leave my estate, I will do so regardless if they intend to accuse me. I want to see Catherine – it has been far too long since we last met. I'm afraid my attention upon this matter has been rather obsessive."
Although the village was in an uproar, the situation between he and Catherine was like it had always been. Except for the fact she did not visit him as often as he preferred. When she made her rare appearances in his manor, they would play chess or read a passage from their favorite book. Not once did he mention the forbidden dream he had about her, or dare to bring up the fact he was perplexed by Walter's sudden absence. Since the night he and Walter talked, the other lord had not reappeared in the village.
Despite his confidence, Maurizio paused as if deliberating whether or not to speak, and only after an awkward silence passed did the knight inquire under his breath. "Have you noticed anything unusual about Catherine as of late?"
"Unusual?" Joachim's brow furrowed in detest of the idea. He could not imagine where the knight was getting such strange idea but humored the man anyway. "What do you mean? I regret that I have not seen her in nearly three months due to the murders…"
Maurizio pressed a gauntlet against his smooth chin, while his other hand nervously skimmed through the dark locks of his brown hair. It was a gesture Joachim recognized every so often when they encountered an awkward topic of conversation, though his pondering lips uplifted into a quick smile and his tone lightened when Joachim's curious air of defense refused to relent.
"Right then, I was just asking. She seems…different somehow. She rarely leaves her house, and when I happen to see her on the street, she barely acknowledges me."
Upon seeing a scowl pressed across the lord's face, Maurizio winked and cleverly changed the subject matter.
"A world without politics is a world without conflict. Tis' no wonder why delicate ladies should never hear such nonsense." The knight paced back and forth like a nervous animal confined in a cage. The sound from his boots reverberated throughout the great hall from the metal soles clapping across the floor.
"I wish I could believe that," Joachim cast the man a knowing smile. For once he did not feel inclined to make it a struggle when he added. "A world without politics is a world without choice. The constant criticisms I receive can be useful, if you consider the fact it allows me to differ those who are dimwitted from those who are simple idiots. They say every village has an idiot-"
"Indeed!" Maurizio's lips formed into a sheepish grin and he stopped in place. "Forgive me, but the position has already been filled. Unless someone can be more of an idiot than I, I must ensure my position is not overtaken."
Both men burst into a fit of laughter, and the sounds of their merriment echoed through the hall. It was far too long since laughter filled the Armster Manor, and for the seconds it lasted, Joachim's pallid complexion beamed with a kind of joy that rarely overcame the somber visage he felt consigned to wear almost everyday – except in the presence of Catherine. As always though, something broke through his merriment – and that time it happened to belong to Kyran, who stood in the doorway of the hall holding a piece of parchment in his hand. The lord's sharp sense of awareness immediately stifled his laughter, especially after he noticed the vassal's familiar scowl of disapprove and severely knit brow.
"Milord." Kyran held his head high while walking into the hall to purposely disrupt the conversation.
Without awaiting acknowledgement, one of his gnarled hands shoved the piece of paper in Joachim's face. The paper was still folded, and might have relieved Joachim to know it had not been opened; however his vassal's continued scowl failed to ease his wondering thoughts. The elderly man made a scene of clearing his throat, and coughed so loud the other men had difficulty hiding their repugnance. Nevertheless, when the vassal was confident their attentions were directed upon him, he stated without delay.
"Tis' a letter from the Vatican. I presume it comes from Cardinal Michael, whom you wrote months ago about the murders occurring here."
"It's about bloody time he responded to my demand." Joachim took the letter from the glaring old man and held it up in the light.
The warm sunbeams shone through the thin paper, illuminating the scrawls of handwriting on the inside of the folds. Paper was a difficult article to come by, and even more difficult to obtain due to the great cost of producing it. A small sneer crept across his lips as he broke the stamped wax seal and skimmed its contents. Within moments he crushed the paper in his fist.
"It seems Cardinal Michael put more care in choosing what kind of paper to send me, than in agreeing to send my knights back to Creightel." Joachim turned away from the window, and upon looking at the two men, a shadow of rage flickered in his hardened blue eyes.
"You can't be serious!" Maurizio snatched the crumpled paper from his hand, frantically trying to see the contents of the note. "Why would they refuse to send our knights home? People are dying!"
"Things are not that simple you dolt!" Kyran grabbed the crumpled piece of paper from the man's fumbling hands and threw it across the hall. "I am not surprised. Cardinal Michael is one of the church's foremost supporters of the crusades. They simply cannot afford to send anyone back during these crucial times-"
"Cannot, or will not?" Joachim folded his arms across his chest, and his head lowered so the soft strands of his ashen hair curtained around his cheeks and hid the spark of rage seeping into his glaring eyes. His words received no response, which prompted him to remark spitefully. "The church does not give a damn about our problems! They would sooner fight 'heathens' in the east than come to the aid of their own people, who are dying at the hand of a true heathen."
"Hold your tongue, milord." Kyran's blazing eyes locked with his, and Maurizio stood like a dumb dog caught between two aggressive wolves. The knight did not speak a word while the vassal attempted to lecture against the bold outburst. "Do you want news of your indiscretions to reach the ears of the Pope? Have you never taken a moment to think of what could happen to you if they discovered your tongue is no less poisonous than the tongue of the snake that brought forbidden suggestions to Adam and Eve? Every luxury you have could be revoked if that man so much as hints it to be done-"
"All you care about are material possessions, so do not even consider lecturing me on religion. If you want to sustain the fineries of this materialistic world, I shall give them willingly to you! My life will be short regardless, so you may as well indulge in the wealth my father gained because of his butchery of those the church labeled evil."
Joachim gave the man the foulest glare he could imagine, and without thinking, he spat on the floor next to the vassal's boots. By then his temperament had risen so heatedly he was unconscious of realizing his voice screamed the accusation, and with the speed of a viper his hand seized the vassal by his robe and jerked him forward.
"Filthy wretch! It is people like you who bring suffering and evil upon the world! Under the veil of righteousness, your kind commits only wicked deeds, and the blood of the innocent covers all of these things my father obtained! Always the innocent are the ones who die, never those who deserve it most of all!"
Kyran's eyes resembled saucers, gazing placidly into the icy blue optics of the fragile young man who held onto him with the strength of a thousand knights. New life had been breathed into Joachim's body through the injustices of the world that had at last brought him to the brink of his fading composure. It was too much for him to abide by the word of a cruel, senseless individual, and simply touching him made his face twist with repugnance as if he had laid his hands upon a leper.
"The supposed holy church is a disease to this world. The faith has been corrupted by mankind's shallow and proud nature. If there really is a God, I pray our wise and divine God shall one day intervene and correct this atrocity." Joachim hissed, and his grip relented until he pushed the man down onto the floor.
"Joachim! What in God's name then do you think you are doing?" Maurizio was swift to run to the fallen vassal's aid.
The old man fell in such a way he landed upon his back unscathed, but his aging body was unable to get up without the knight's neurotic assistance. Joachim watched Maurizio's hand enclose around the vassal's arm as the younger man pulled Kyran onto his feet, but the cold stare he fixed upon the two was unmoved by the gesture. The shadow of rage in his eyes blazed hotter than wildfire, and he turned his back against them and stormed toward the door, his boots thumping across the marble floor but not loud enough to stifle the sound of his hostility.
"Help him then Maurizio, but know you are helping only a worthless old cad, who I should ban from my household if it were not my father's assurance that he would have a place here until the end of his days. Hopefully, his end will be sooner than my own."