The following morning, Gabriel was awakened by the sound of movement downstairs. He'd slept on a straw mattress on one side of the loft, which held most of the foods that had been preserved and stored away for the winter. It smelled of smoked meats and spices, and the one small window was located above the mattress, situated opposite the stairs.
Pulling himself from the blankets, Gabriel shivered in the morning chill. Bare feet padded noiselessly across the loft, descending the stairs with the silence of practice.
The Widow Austin was awake, moving serenely about the room in preparation for the morning meal. Gabriel cleared his throat softly, and she spun, surprised. "Oh!"
"I'm sorry to have startled you," the hunter apologized.
Mathilde Austin was a lanky young woman not even thirty, tall and slender with willowy grace. The angular planes of her face were softened by alluring brown eyes and full lips, which were pressed into a thin line more often than not. She wore her brown hair severely scraped back into a long braid that brushed her waist. Though worn, her clothes were respectably mended and she carried herself without shame for her situation.
Mathilde steadied herself a moment before responding. "That's quite all right. Did I wake you?"
Gabriel's loose pants and shirt testified to his state of undress, and he subtly turned his wrist, clasping his hands behind his back to hide the knife that had sprung immediately to his fingers upon waking. The three other weapons still on his person were similarly concealed. The hunter disregarded the question. "It's high time for me to be awake. Are Ben and Tanya still asleep?"
Gabriel had met Tanya the night before. The five-year-old whirlwind was the image of her father, according to her proud mother. While already her face and figure mimicked Mathilde's slenderness, her hair was lighter, almost a blonde, and her eyes much darker than those of her mother. Dimples flashed with every white-toothed smile. The child was a study in contradictions – shy around Gabriel, yet a shrieking playmate for Ned and Ben. The three had romped around the house while Gabriel had gotten settled the previous afternoon. When the hunter had returned to the Austin house that evening, the young ones had been asleep. Widow Austin's absence at the meetings was expected, and though she neither wanted nor needed it, it seemed that she garnered the sympathy of many in the town.
"Yes," Mathilde whispered. She smiled. "Tanya missed Ben and Ned." The noise of an opening door caught their attention. Mathilde turned to look, and smiled as Ben emerged from a tiny room off the main living area. Ned trotted past the tousle-haired youth, who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The black Labrador settled by the fire, yawning cavernously. Gabriel couldn't help his smile at the animal's contentedness.
"G'morning," Ben mumbled around a yawn of his own. The boy settled himself at the table, and Mathilde pushed a plate of bread within reach. Ben's smile was dazzling as he helped himself. Mathilde's gentle contentment, pouring him a glass of milk, completed the picture of serenity.
Gabriel moved upstairs to collect his clothing, bringing the items back downstairs and out to a tiny, freezing lean-to built against the outside of the house. The room held tools and less-used items, and the hunter was glad for it. He left his clothing there, and poked his head outside. Chill as the little room was, it was much warmer than the dark morning. Steeling himself to the temperature, the hunter swiftly stripped and stepped out into the snow. Grabbing a handful of the freezing white stuff, he quickly rubbed it over his arm and chest in an impromptu bath. Stifling a yell at the shock of cold against his skin, Gabriel continued to grab fistfuls of snow, feeling the blood rush to his skin at the contact. Within moments, he had finished and returned to the lean-to, drying off with a towel Mathilde had given him for bathing – probably not in the fashion he had just demonstrated, he thought ruefully. Dressing as swiftly as possible, the hunter returned to the main room, distractedly rubbing the towel over his still-wet hair. It had nearly frozen before he got inside, and once in the warmth of the house, it dripped annoyingly into his eyes.
He pushed the sopping locks back from his head irritably, and availed himself of the Widow's hospitality. Breakfast was warm porridge, flavored with dried fruit, milk and honey. Tanya pattered from bed midway through the meal, climbing up onto the bench next to Ben and waiting patiently for her food. Mathilde fed her family and guest before sitting down to eat herself.
Gabriel finally broke the silence. "Ben, you told the Mayor there were a few chores that you've been meaning to get to," he alluded to the previous day's conversation in the church.
Ben nodded, his blonde hair a disheveled halo over a face flushed from proximity to the fire. "Ned'n'I fixed up the walls for winter with mud cauking," he answered. "Took clay out from beyond the old millpond, before it froze, and hauled it back here for the repairs. But we couldn't get to the roof."
Mathilde clucked her tongue at him. "As if I would let you up on that roof by your lonesome," she scolded, looking up from her meal to give the boy a reproving glance.
Ben ducked his head, but the blush and pleased smile at her concern were quite clearly seen by the hunter. "There's nothing truly wrong with it," he put in, giving Ned a glance. "It's just the far corner, up in the loft."
Gabriel nodded – he had noted the bucket gathering snow-melt, and the many blankets Mathilde had heaped into his arms had been much appreciated during the night. "Shall we take a look at it now, then?" he offered, noting that all except Tanya were finished with the morning meal.
"I'll get my coat," Ben said eagerly.
Mathilde nodded, collecting the dishes and graciously accepting the polite thanks extended by both the youth and the man. Gabriel stood, moving quickly to the loft to collect his own outer gear, layering a gray sweater over his black shirt. Ready to face the outdoors, he pulled on his boots and inquired of Ned, "Do you know where there are the tools to fix the roof?"
The black Lab's thoughtful nod and one assenting bark followed Gabriel to his feet; the hunter smiled. "Lead on, Ned."
Ben found the two in the lean-to, poking curiously through the jumbled mess of tools and odd-bobs kept by Mr. Austin. They found several serviceable wooden slats, nails and a hammer – Gabriel picked up a few extra items to stow in the pockets of his coat to seal the replaced shingling against the icy wind. Before going out, Gabriel lit two lanterns, one for himself and one for Ben, as it was pitch-dark outside, despite the early hour.
Ben and Ned watched from the ground as the hunter gingerly ascended the just-discovered and fairly precarious ladder. He carefully tested each rung before entrusting his weight to it; such was a precaution the much-lighter boy would have neglected to take.
"What're you thinking?" Ned's thought rang in Ben's mind, and the boy smiled.
"I think . . . he's safe."
Ned's silent concurrence, trusting to an instinct which had never led the two wrong, assured the boy. The quiet hunter with the inscrutable eyes was good – they could feel that in their bones. He was also safe, worthy to be entrusted with their secret and their very lives, in a way that Raphael Thuron had not been. That good-hearted buccaneer had learned of their secret after foiling a ghostly attempt by Vanderdecken to reclaim the two youths once they were at the mercy of the high seas and their own nightmares. Given a choice, Ben probably wouldn't have told Thuron of the Flying Dutchman and all that had transpired on her decks. Though both he and Ned accepted that all had come right in the end, Thuron's death weighed heavily on both of them. Few were those who had learned of their secret over time – and all who had been told had been weighted down by impending fate at the time, and not long for this world upon the telling.
This man, though, was different. He was somehow like them, more human than any other who had ever learned, or guessed, of Ben's otherness. He was strong and quietly confident, his presence indisputably alive in a way beyond the surrounding villagers.
"I see the problem," Gabriel's voice, deep and comforting, drifted over the roof to them.
"Can you fix it?" Ben called hopefully, echoing Ned's thought.
"Shouldn't be too hard," was the grunted reply. "Look out below!"
Ben and Ned stepped back quickly. A moment latter, two rotted wooden shingles landed in the snow, quickly followed by a few more. Working together, Ben and Ned took the wood into the lean-to so that it could dry. There was no sense in wasting valuable fuel, especially since winter wouldn't begin to loosen its grip on the land until the end of the month, at least.
Ten minutes more of expectant silence, punctuated only by the ear-splitting squeal of rusted metal and the sound of a hammer, followed. The shuffling noise of someone moving carefully over the slick roof caught their attention, and the boy and dog waited as the hunter maneuvered his way down the ladder. With two feet firmly planted on the ground, the older man turned and smiled at them.
The expression changed his handsome features, warming his face and gentling the hazel eyes. "I know I promised to speak with you both," the hunter said softly, his words dimming Ben's answering smile.
"Yes," the youth replied cautiously.
"Would you be satisfied with today, then?"
Ben jumped at the offer. "Mathilde and Tanya usually go into the town in the morning," he told the older man. "I go, mostly, but Ned'n'I can ask to stay behind today."
"If you are comfortable letting the Widow and Tanya travel that distance on their own," the hunter replied seriously, not belittling the youths' concerns for their adopted family.
Ben's clear blue eyes grew clouded. "I think Ned and I want to see them there," he finally replied. The two had moved to the lean-to, removing boots and coats. "Mr. Ancell, the blacksmith, is usually good enough to see them back."
A wry expression crossed the hunter's face, but he smiled. "Go and ask permission, then," he softly encouraged the boy. Ben needed no second bidding.
The small family set out not long after, Ben guiding Tanya while Ned held a basket in his teeth for Mathilde. Gabriel set about cleaning the area he had slept in, and seeing to a few minor repairs about the house, while he waited for the youths to return. They were back within the hour, shaking snow from boots and coats of cloth and fur.
Ben had been nervously thinking about this almost from the moment the older man had reminded them of his promise. He truly wanted to know just how the hunter knew so much about them; he had gotten an answer, of sorts, from Dominic, who had also sensed something different about the towheaded youth and his dog. But the other boy hadn't really known what to make of what he saw. The only other one they had come across in their travels was an old Padre, strong in his faith but with no answers for them.
He and Ned had raced back to the cabin, the dog winning by a hairsbreadth, or so he claimed. A gentle lick to his hand brought his attention to Ned, and Ben mustered up a small smile for his friend. "Nervous?" the dog thought.
"You bet. I wasn't this scared when we were being chased by that awful Spaniard."
"There's no need to be frightened," Gabriel's voice drifted clearly from where he was sitting, across the room. The hunter was sitting, cross-legged, on the floor in front of the fire.
Ben gathered his courage and moved across the room. Ned flopped down between the two, his attention on the dark-haired man relaxing before the flames. "You remember," he began softly, "that I said we were a bit alike? Just in being different from other people?"
The careful question was answered with a hesitant nod.
"You wanted to know how I could know of things in your past," the hunter's face was turned to the fire. "When I explained about Maguda Razan's true nature, and when I stepped in to quell your memories." It seemed to Ben that the hunter was very hesitant to bring up the subject, seemingly afraid of the effect it might have on him. His back straightened.
"Yes," he answered, feeling more bold than before, ready to voice a question. "That was you?"
"Yes." The hunter's eyes turned from the fire to catch his, and Ben's breath caught. The ancient wisdom in those hazel eyes caught him, pierced his very soul, and he felt a light pressure on his mind, as if someone was knocking, gently requesting entry. Ben nodded slowly, feeling as if he was being pulled into those eyes, and he felt no fear. Ned, too, was staring inward now, at the memories being carefully – so carefully! – presented to them.
Time before all recounting, man walked the earth, and Gabriel tread the ground amongst them, guiding, teaching, and hunting –
Gabriel was walking next to another man, speaking to him in an ancient language, laughing –
But now that man was dying, crucified for his crimes, and as a spear sliced into his side, blood and - something else - poured from the wound –
It was much later, for the clothing was different. Again, Gabriel was walking, this time in a dark wood, and there was no one by his side. He was hunting –
And he was hunting in this desert, searching for something –
He was called to the sea, now –
And the man Ben and Ned thought to be human, a hunter, descended from the sky in light and glory and beauty beyond the reckoning of man, descended to hunt and to confront a wicked ship's captain who had called upon the powers of evil and nurtured that power in his twisted heart. He repulsed the attack, the evil overwhelming the captain and crew, bathing the ship itself in its darkness . . . but the light of innocence, pained and afraid, glowed from the deck and Gabriel reached out, to save, to preserve . . . shielding the two young ones from harm.
But they had been touched by so much power that they would forever be changed. So he continued, then – and Gabriel bestowed on them the gift of speech. And he guided them, protected them from afar.
There was a shift in time, then. Hundreds of years were compressed into a single moment, rushing up to one specific memory.
The boy glanced around at the small town. "Are you sure this is it?" he thought to the dog.
Ned gave a mental shrug. "You felt it, same as I did. This is the place to stop."
Ben was still warily casting his eyes around. "This place feels different," he thought at last. "It's dark. But safe, for now."
"Well, that's good to hear at least. I think -" and the erstwhile dog was for once, lost for words.
"I think we may be here for a while," Ben finished.
"That lady looks nice," Ned suggested, glancing at a tall, thin woman with a babe balanced on her hip. A man just her height, with sandy hair and a kind face, bent over the child, cooing softly. Giggles lilted through the air, coming from the bundle, and a beautiful smile crossed the woman's face.
"Yes." The thought seemed to come from both of them at once.
It was the memory of their arrival in Boxborough, a little over four years ago. Ben felt the other man receding, his mind closing off from them. He opened eyes that he couldn't remember shutting, and this time was able to look directly into the other's blazing stare.
"It was you," he breathed softly, in full understanding. The angel that had guided them for so long, watching over them and heeding their prayers.
In mortal incarnation, the being staring at them was concerned, now. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.
"God is my strength," Ben marveled, turned the meaning of the hunter's name over on his tongue, tasting the words.
"I am Gabriel," the hunter confirmed, watching the boy carefully. And in the wisdom of his eyes, there was no doubt. It even made sense – Gabriel, the angel sent to guide Mary, Daniel, Zechariah and others in their dreams, guided Ben and Ned through dreams as well.
All his questions were answered, now.
"But why have we stayed here so long?"
Gabriel answered Ned, his eyes sad, shuttered, and inexplicably different than before. "That," he sighed, "is entirely my fault, and I am truly sorry for it." The hunter took a breath before explaining. "Over five years ago, I came across an evil that entered this world without my knowledge. His name was Beelzebul – and he was one of the Fallen, though he had always been minor." Ben shuddered with that knowledge. Gabriel winced at the youth's reaction, continuing gently but not shielding the two from the truth. "He was searching for the head of the Spear of Longinus, the spear which pierced the side of the Christ as he hung upon the cross." The foreign memory, and the faded pain of it, flitted through Ben's mind and was gone just as quickly. "When I discovered what he was looking for, I knew that he could never discover where it was. At that time, I was perfectly aware of the Spear's location, but events that I had set in motion hundreds of years before were coming to a head. If I did not manage to divert Beelzebul for a few years, two great evils would have been unleashed on the world, and they would have wreaked havoc before they were stopped.
"I planned very carefully what I would have to do next – but I knew that I would be unable to help you for a time, perhaps years. I wanted you and Ned safe, but I knew your need to help others would keep you from finding peace." His smile was poignant, eyes lost in memory. But it encouraged a reluctant smile from Ben in return. "I led you here, in the hopes that you would be safe for a time, before the darkness came. And then I provoked Beelzebul into a fight, to feed him false information and lead him away from the Spear. But the only way the ruse would work was for him to beat me in that fight, beat me so badly that there was no question about the veracity of what I told him. As I expected, he took the information he thought he needed from my mind, before hiding my memories from me."
"You – you knew you would lose your memory?" Ben stammered, somewhat shocked.
Gabriel grimaced. "The one thing Beelzebul would never understand," he explained calmly, "is sacrifice for a cause. It is – beyond him, in every way. For me to plan all of that, for my goal to be anything other than victory, would have been incomprehensible to him. He is fundamentally unable to conceive that I would seek to do anything but destroy him."
Ned stilled at the use of present tense, his head rising from Ben's lap. "Is?"
"He no longer walks this Earth," the hunter reassured them, certainty in every line of his being. "Should he return from his master's realm, I would know it immediately. You have nothing to fear from him."
Ben nodded and the black Lab relaxed again, tail thumping softly against the wooden floor.
"I am sorry I left you here so long," the hunter apologized.
"It couldn't be helped," Ben easily dismissed the apology. "Besides," and here he glanced at Ned, "we've needed a bit of a break."
Gabriel laughed, the sound both strong and sweet. "Yes, I believe you might have," he replied, and in his tone was a wealth of understanding for the tears shed for friends both left behind and gone before.
Ben's blue eyes were clouded, deep in thought. The silence, content and golden, spun out between them. The hunter sat back, confident in the boy's ability to understand all the information being presented to him. He was a remarkable boy. When the first question came, it led to a deep conversation for all three, delving into emotions of loneliness all too familiar to each of the beings in that simple room. For Gabriel, the complete acceptance and trust Ben and Ned gave him was the most precious gift he had ever received. For the youths, it was the knowledge that there would always be help, there would always be guidance, which brought the most comfort. Adult as they could be, there were still times when Ben longed for a true grown-up to turn to.
"All you need to do is call for me," Gabriel told him seriously. "Either one of you. It does not matter if you speak aloud or in your minds. If ever you have need of me, shout my name, and I will come to you."
Ben's smile glowed, and Ned was just as happy.
They spoke for several hours, the sun rising to banish the clouds as the three remained deep in conversation. By the time Gabriel needed to leave, they had learned more from each others' souls than any of them had shared with another. They were brothers, the closest thing each had to family walking this Earth.
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(steps on scale) omg! I lost 5 lbs! (my reviewers are starving me . . . sobs) After all, with this cool new stats thing, I know who you are . . . . (points suggestively at review button)
And I know that, according to the novelization, Van Helsing was found 7 yrs before the movie, but novelizations scare me silly, and I refused to read. It would mess up my grasp of character, anyway. As I didn't explicitly state anything in LAEVA DEI, after being corrected, I decided to go with my first instinct and I've made it 4 years between when Van Helsing was found "crawling up the steps of this church half-dead" and the movie. (stares challengingly from behind desk). (grins).