Author's Note: So, welcome to chapter two. Not really much to say about it; I hope you will enjoy it. Some more interesting information now. Note, if you did not know already, that Yahweh is a name for God, which I chose to use in this story. I won't be fangirling for another few chapters, methinks.

MaiaMadness

Chapter Two

Watched by Angels

Baruch woke up the next morning to find bright sunlight trickling in through the smoke hole in the ceiling and the window hole on the wall. The hut was flooded with it. Baruch sat upright, and looked around in the room. He could not see the shadow of Balthamos anywhere.

"Hello?" he whispered. "Watcher?"

"I am here," replied the voice of the angel. "You cannot see me in this light. But I told you, my name is Balthamos. Your human brain isn't too small to remember that, is it?" His tone was sarcastic.

"I remember," said Baruch, lightly indignant. "Please do not use that tone as a means of feeling superior."

Balthamos was quiet for a moment. "I apologise," he said. "I shall try harder."

"And I shall try harder to call you Balthamos," said Baruch. Balthamos shivered upon hearing his name uttered from those lips, and he longed to touch them. So much so that it hurt seeing that bright figure before him. There was something special about such a through and through good human being. He was more so than most angels.

"Put on your clothes, Baruch," said Balthamos. Even though Baruch could not see where he was looking, Balthamos turned around respectfully when he stood up. Humans seemed embarrassed over their appearance, something Balthamos found strange, for God had shaped them that way because it was the most beautiful form he could imagine.

Balthamos had visited many worlds. In some worlds people had dæmons, companions. A part of their soul which was apart from their body. In this world they did not. Baruch was alone, with his dæmon on the inside. Balthamos preferred it that way, or else he feared that the dæmon would have perceived his desire.

"So who is this person with evil thoughts?" asked Baruch. Balthamos had nearly forgotten about that.

"I do not know," he said. "That is why I am watching you. So that I will be able to tell you when I find out."

"How will you know?" said Baruch, pulling on his rough linen shirt.

"My perception of feelings is vague," Balthamos answered. "I can sense a thought or feeling in someone, but if there are many people present I cannot see who the thought or feeling belongs to."

"But now, with only you and I, you can read my thoughts?" Baruch turned around to try and see the angel. He thought he saw a shimmer in the air and focused on that.

"I could, but I choose not to," said Balthamos, who was standing a foot to the right of the spot where Baruch was looking.

"And what if I were the one harbouring the evil thought?" asked Baruch, giving up his looking and tying on his leather belt.

"You are not," replied Balthamos simply. "I sense the thought when you are not present, and it would be utterly illogical for you to harbour evil thoughts towards yourself." He chose not to mention the aura of goodness visible around the young man at all times.

Baruch said nothing, but tied his knife to his belt and exited the hut.

Baruch always got up early, and only a few people had begun to stir in the village square. The men who had been on watch during the night were going back into their huts where they would sleep until midday. Balthamos followed Baruch down to the stream, where he filled water into a pouch of animal skin and then walked back to the village. Balthamos remained quiet, but he knew that Baruch knew he was there.

As they reached the village again, Balthamos suddenly felt the evil thought overwhelmingly strongly. He felt as though something clenched at his inner being and crushed it briefly. But then the feeling ebbed out, and Balthamos looked around fearfully. There were more people about now, but he could not imagine which one of these people had thought it. Women were walking down to the stream to get water for cooking. Men were talking loudly, children were playing and two young girls in the corner were chatting in hushed voices, glancing at the fierce young hunters adoringly and giggling. He pulled up close to Baruch and whispered in his ear, "I felt it again. Do not answer now, but think: Who here do you not trust?"

Darkness was falling. As always at this time the great fire was blazing, and people took sticks over to it and brought flames for smaller fires so they could cook their food. Rabbits were frying on spits over the flames. Baruch circulated every night; eating with one family or another, always welcome anywhere. This night he had been invited to share the food of the family of one of the village Elders. He was a large, round man around 50, and considered an old man. He had seven children with his two wives. Six of them were married, five of them had children. His two married daughters were not present; they were with their own families. The youngest daughter was not yet married and ate with her family. She was fourteen years old, and her name was Merriam.

Balthamos had turned himself into a little insect, and sat quietly on Baruch's shoulder. They were all drinking wine made from berry juices while they waited for the meat to cook. They sat in a circle on the ground on animal skins, and as the last ray of sun disappeared behind the mountains to the East the Elder put down his cup and blessed the food, asking Yahweh in the sky to protect them from the evil of the night. Baruch bowed his head as the Elder spoke and when he had finished, one of his wives took the rabbit off the spit and Baruch received the honour of cutting the meat, since he was the one who had caught the rabbit and presented it to the Elder earlier that day. He cut some slices of the juicy red meat and thanked Yahweh for giving them the rabbit's life so they could live themselves.

Then they ate. Conversation was light. The Elder's youngest son, who was also a hunter, discussed the day's hunt with Baruch, complimenting him on his three marvellous kills. Baruch nodded graciously. The women were silent, speaking only to each other in hushed voices. Balthamos noticed how Merriam glanced at Baruch from time to time, taking in his muscular arms and beautiful face, and then blushing before she looked away again. He was not alone. The Elder too had noticed this.

"Baruch," he said. "You have no wives, do you?"

Baruch seemed taken aback by the question. Balthamos felt a rush of jealousy. "No, Elder," said Baruch, coming to his senses. "I do not."

"Hm," said the Elder in his deep voice. "My Merriam is a strong young woman," he continued. "She could bear sons. She is pure."

Merriam blushed bright red. Balthamos felt Baruch's indecision. The Elder said nothing more, but looked intently at Baruch, studying his expression. His sons also looked at him. Baruch did not wish to offend them by declining, he knew it could cause a conflict. But he did not want to marry Merriam either. She was a beautiful young girl, and her father spoke the truth; she was strong and pure. Yet he felt no interest in her.

"Decline!" Balthamos whispered urgently. "You must not accept. Please!"

Baruch hesitated only a moment more. "I am sorry, Elder, but I cannot accept your kind offer," he said, lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Hm," said the Elder again. "Why?" he demanded.

"I am… watched by angels," said Baruch. The women gasped, and the Elder frowned. "I have sworn to wed no woman," Baruch continued, his eyes once again meeting the Elder's. "I am sorry. This is why I have no wives. I am sworn to Yahweh."