Chapter Two
few and evil have the days of the years of my life been
Genesis 47:9
The night passed peacefully. Sennett placed blankets over the sleeping monk before going to bed herself. When she got up the next morning, he was still asleep.
As she was fixing her breakfast in her tiny kitchen, she heard the couch creak in a tell-tale way. She went to the doorway of the kitchen and looked in at the rumpled figure of the monk. He still looked groggy although he was sitting upright.
"Do you drink coffee or tea?" she asked kindly.
He stared at her blankly, as though decisions about what to drink were new to him. Finally he shook his head and shrugged slightly, as though to say he would have either.
"Tea then," Sennett said and ducked back into the kitchen.
She brought the tray out and set it between them on a low table.
"Milk and sugar?" she asked.
The monk frowned. "What day is it?" he asked suddenly in his strange, grating voice.
"Monday," she said, surprised by the question.
"Some milk please," he replied.
"You have milk because it is Monday?" she teased him gently, handing him a steaming cup.
"I can't have milk in my tea on a fast day," he explained, staring blankly into his tea.
"You need to drink that. You lost a lot of blood, so you need fluids," Sennett said.
He sipped it without appearing to taste it.
"I don't even know your name," Sennett said, drinking her own tea, "I'm Sennett, by the way."
"Silas," he said in a whisper, as though he was afraid to say his own name.
"I'll need to get you some new clothes," Sennett commented, nodding towards the parts of Silas' robe that had been cut in order to treat his wounds, "Your robe is soaked in blood."
Your hands are soaked in blood, a nasty inner voice whispered tormentingly to Silas. He almost dropped his tea cup. He desperately wanted to do penance but there was no means in this woman's flat.
"I won't be able to find another monk's robe for you, I'm sorry. You'll have to make do with jeans and pullovers until you go back to your monastery," Sennett was saying conversationally.
Silas stared blindly at her. What monastery, he thought? He could never return to Opus Dei or the Vatican or any monastery without Bishop Aringarosa's protection after killing so many - and the Bishop was gone.
So suddenly that it caught him by surprise, he was reliving the moment of losing his best and only friend in the world, seeing him lying on the cold cobbles bleeding from a wound that Silas himself had accidentally given him. His tea cup fell from his suddenly nerveless fingers and a cry escaped from his lips. Forgetting where he was, two tears escaped down his ravaged face. His pale eyes rimmed in red looked quite wild as they turned inward on this involuntary vision.
Sennett watched him carefully, sitting very still. It was obvious to her that he was reliving difficult memories and it was best stay quiet. Silently she retrieved the unbroken and empty cup from the carpet and set it carefully on the table. She could feel pity like a hard ball under her ribs. There was something so pathetic about this hulking, strange-looking monk. He seemed so lost and vulnerable, like an animal that had lost its skin. She had felt that way about him since seeing him bleeding in the grotto.
Finally, his breathing seemed to slow down again and he seemed to come back to himself.
"What happened to you?" Sennett asked simply, handing him another cup of milky tea.
He stared uncomprehendingly at the cup for a moment and then at her.
She had confused him. He didn't understand why she was asking what had happened to him when he had been the one who had killed so many. He couldn't understand why she wasn't asking, 'what have you done?'
Hesitantly he took the cup from her and held it gingerly in his hands.
He has beautiful hands, Sennett thought inconsequentially. They were slender and long-fingered and pale but looked strong and masculine too.
"I was shot," Silas began after clearing his throat, "by police".
Sennett watched him carefully. He was telling the truth, she knew.
"Why did the police shoot you?" she asked, her voice deliberately quiet. She was surprised she felt shocked; after all it was obvious that he had been shot by somebody. Perhaps it was just hearing him say it out loud.
Silas hung his head miserably. "Because I had already shot two policemen and was still armed," he said in a voice so low that Sennett barely heard.
Sennett was silent for a moment. "Why did you shoot them?" Sennett persisted in a carefully even voice, trying to keep any tremor out of her voice.
"They were raiding the house of Opus Dei where I was staying. I don't know why they were there but they could have come in order to arrest me," he said wretchedly.
"Okay," Sennett said and paused, reflecting that the story actually got worse with every answer to her questions, "Why would they want to arrest you?"
"I had already killed four men," Silas said, finally raising his odd eyes to her face. To his surprise, she didn't show any emotion at this pronouncement. She didn't look angry or disgusted or even afraid. It was a relief. He was used to people looking at him that way; people who didn't even know his worst secrets.
Sennett deliberately kept her face blank. She knew reacting to this bad news would only have a negative impact on him emotionally and she didn't want to set him off. "Why did you kill them?" Sennett asked calmly but with genuine curiousity.
"They were enemies of the Church and sinful men!" Silas replied, a strange light kindling in his strange eyes and his voice showing a tinge of anger for the first time.
"Who told you that?" she asked gently.
"The Bishop," Silas replied and then stopped abruptly when he remembered once again that his friend was dead, "and the Teacher," he concluded more quietly.
"Which Bishop?" Sennett asked curiously, her eyes narrowing slightly. She didn't know too many Bishops but was interested none-the-less.
"Bishop Aringarosa, the Head of Opus Dei. He's dead now," Silas whispered, a troubled expression crossing his face like a shadow.
"Who was this Teacher person?" Sennett asked.
"I don't know. I never met him. I only spoke to him on the phone," Silas replied, finishing his tea and putting the cup down carefully.
"You killed four men under the instruction from someone you only spoke to on the phone?" Sennett said, her incredulity finally showing in her voice.
"Bishop Aringarosa put me in touch with him and told me to obey him," Silas said flatly.
"Why did you trust this Bishop so much?" Sennett asked with concern.
"He saved me!" Silas said, suddenly passionate. His pale eyes gleamed with fervour. "He saved me from a bad life and showed me the right way to live. He showed me the way to God and taught me everything that is good. I owe the Bishop everything!"
"He was a friend to you," Sennett said evenly, although to Sennett the Bishop sounded like anything but a friend.
"He was the only person who ever had been a friend to me," Silas said, his passion gone as suddenly as it had flared. He suddenly looked very tired and weak. One hand crept to the bandage on his shoulder and Sennett realized he was in pain.
She poured a third cup of tea and pushed two bottles of pills towards him.
"Doctor's orders," she said firmly.
"What are they?" Silas asked with a frown.
"Antibiotics," she lied blithely. She had a feeling that if he knew the second bottle was pain killers, he wouldn't take them. Some orders of monks led very ascetic lives and would baulk at taking medications for pain.
As he was taking them she asked, "Do you want toast or cereal or egg for breakfast?"
He looked at her curiously, "You're not afraid of me, are you?" he asked suddenly in his odd rasping voice.
Sennett realized with surprise that he was right. Against all common sense, she was not afraid of the monk. Although the things he had done were shocking, she still felt more sorry for him than anything else.
"I'm not an enemy of the Church, so you're not likely to kill me, are you?" she said lightly, her dark eyebrows raised slightly.
"Most people are afraid of me even when they don't know what I've done," he said, his gaze returning to his half-drunk tea.
"Why?" Sennett asked, genuinely confused.
Silas' pale brows drew together in a frown. "Because I look different," he said, as though it should be obvious. He hung his pale head as though in shame.
"Oh, I think blondes are very attractive," Sennett teased gently, getting up to go to the kitchen to make breakfast.
Silas looked completely nonplussed. He was not used to being teased kindly. He had no idea how to respond.
"Egg?" Sennett repeated, trying to suppress her grin at his confusion.
Silas just nodded and went back to staring at the table top.