Chapter 20

"Damn it, Jacques!" Siroc growled, watching as the cutlass flew from her hand yet again. "You've got to pay attention!" She hung her head, muttering what sounded like an apology. The elder immortal softened, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's just...you've been pretty distracted for the past couple of days...almost since we arrived. What's wrong?"

Jacqueline shook her head, glancing towards the other end of the courtyard, where Ramon and Amanda appeared to be having a picnic. Between the lingering kisses, he read to her from one of his poetry notebooks while she fed him grapes. "This isn't right," Jacqueline muttered. "She's going to break his heart, you know. How can you just stand there and allow it to happen?"

"What do you mean?"

She crossed her arms, glaring. "You...using Amanda to distract him because of the whole 'watcher' thing. I still don't understand why we can't just tell him that we know."

Siroc sighed. "I told you, Jacqueline. It's too dangerous."

"Why? Don't you trust him? I thought he was your friend."

"Of course I trust Ramon. It's the other Watchers I don't trust."

"What do they have to do with him?"

"Everything." Shaking his head, Siroc returned his gladius to its hiding place. He retrieved Jacqueline's cutlass and handed it back to her, then gently steered her back inside the abbey so they could have a bit more privacy. Glancing around to make sure they were alone, he led her into one of the unused cells on the first floor and shut the door behind them. He took a seat on the bed and motioned for her to join him, which she did.

"Bit paranoid, aren't we?"

"When it comes to the Watchers, I have to be."

"Why? I still don't get it."

Another sigh. "Look...I would love to take Ramon aside and tell him that we know the truth. I really would. Unfortunately, it's not that simple. I mean, I know Ramon wouldn't give us away...at least, not on purpose. But all it would take would be one innocent slip of the tongue in front of the wrong person and we'd be done for."

"Ramon wouldn't slip...he's not that stupid."

"I know he's not. But that's hardly a guarantee that he won't make a mistake. I mean, what about Duval?"

"What about him?"

"Ramon trusts the captain implicitly...has no reason not to. And now that he knows Duval is aware of who and what we are-or at least what I am-how can we be sure that he won't slip up one of these days...mention something about what we know in front of the captain, thinking that he would never betray us."

Jacqueline stared at Siroc, unable to believe what she was hearing. "But Captain Duval wouldn't do that...would he?"

"He's a Watcher, Jacqueline. If there's one thing I know about Duval, it's that he takes his duties-to the King and to the bloody Society of Watchers-very seriously. Should Ramon ever slip and reveal that we know, Duval would be forced to report it to his superiors. They might be lenient with him for doing so, but Ramon wouldn't get off so easy...and neither would we. The Watchers know full-well how to kill us, and if they see us as a threat to their organization, I have no doubt that they would send out their assassins. We wouldn't stand a chance. Mortals don't set off our senses, so they could get right up behind us and take our heads before we even realized what was happening. And Ramon...I shudder to think of what they would do to him. Not sure if anything has changed in the past few centuries, but from what I remember, they make the bloody Inquisition look like pacifists."

Jacqueline gulped, a hand automatically going to her throat. "W-what do you mean? It's happened before?"

Siroc got up from the bed and went over to the cell's small window. He seemed to be staring out at the sky, but Jacqueline could tell that he was being pulled back into his memories. After a moment, he sighed. "Her name was Jocelyn...Jocelyn St. Claire. One of the most beautiful, intelligent, and courageous women I've ever had the privilege to know. I met her back in the fifth century, when I was living as a blacksmith in a village near Marseilles. One of those 'star-crossed' romances you read about. She was a Watcher, I'm an immortal...we shouldn't have even been talking, let alone courting. But she never took much stock in that whole 'non-interference' rule that most Watchers so whole-heartedly embrace. And, still being relatively young myself, I was more than willing to take that risk if it meant being with her. Of course, it was easier to get away with that sort of thing back then. The world was bigger, so to speak. Watchers could go months or even years without contact from their superiors. Even so, Jocelyn and I were still extremely careful about keeping our relationship-our marriage-a secret from them. We may have been rather idealistic, but we weren't fools. We knew what the consequences were if our relationship was ever discovered."

"So what happened?"

"Jocelyn and I were together for ten long, wonderful years. One of the truly happiest periods in my whole immortal life. But somehow, the Watchers...they found us out. To this day, I still have no idea who or what could have possibly tipped them off. I didn't even know that they'd figured it out until their agents struck...."

********

Southern Gaul, c. 491 AD

For Siroc, currently known to the rest of the world as Mathieu Forgeron, the day had started out normally enough. He'd woken up with the sun, completed the morning chores around the farm, then roused Jocelyn and made love to her before fixing their breakfast, after which he headed into town to work at his forge. Had he known what the day would bring, he would've left the shop closed and stayed home with her. But Siroc, for all his skills, was no prophet, and so he went. Most of the day passed in the usual manner: shoeing horses, mending tools, wagons, and the occasional weapon...nothing out of the ordinary for a small town blacksmith. It was only as he prepared to close up for the day that everything went wrong.

He was just putting away the last of his tools when cries of 'fire' sounded from the streets. With a bad feeling settling itself in the pit of his stomach, the young immortal, after making sure his trusty gladius was handy, ventured outside the shop. Immediately, one of his fellow townspeople-an aging carpenter named Philip-rushed over to him in a panic.

"What's going on?" Siroc asked, dreading the answer.

"Your farm, Mathieu...it's on fire!"

Swearing, Siroc leapt onto the back of his horse and sped off, leaving a worried and confused Philip in his dust. As he rode, he prayed to whatever gods might still be listening that he'd get there in time.

On reaching the farm, he saw that most of the smoke was actually coming from torches, held by black-clad masked men surrounding the house. And men in masks were never a good thing, in his experience. Several of them drew swords as they saw him approach, and he responded by launching his throwing knives into the chests of the closest ones, killing them instantly. He then leapt from the back of his horse and pulled his gladius, going after the ones that were left. The mortals put up a good fight, but were no match for his nearly four and a half centuries of experience.

When the last one fell, Siroc caught a glimpse of a familiar symbol tattooed on the man's wrist. "Watchers...oh no....Jocelyn!" Not wasting another second, he rushed into the house, kicking the already broken door aside and moving into the main room. There, he was greeted by the sight of more masked men, gathered around someone or something on the floor. He saw a flash of dark hair from within their little circle, and something inside him snapped. "Leave her alone, you bastards!" he yelled, rushing the men with his blade before they realized what was going on. The lackeys fell as easily as the ones outside, and Siroc soon had their ringleader backed into a corner, his blade at the man's throat. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," he growled.

The man laughed harshly. "You brought this on yourself, boy. Your kind aren't supposed to mix with ours. The little bitch got what she-" Before he could finish, the Watcher found Siroc's gladius sticking out of his chest.

"So did you." Siroc watched as the man's eyes glazed over in death, then yanked the blade free and let the body drop to the floor. The last of the intruders gone, he rushed over to where Jocelyn lay, and nearly gagged at the sight. She was still alive, but the Watchers had left her horribly mutilated. Among other things, he could see that her eyes had been gouged out, and her writing hand cut off. From the blood dripping out of her mouth, he surmised that they'd cut her tongue out as well. The message was clear: don't give away the Watcher's secrets.

Forcing back tears, Siroc knelt down next to Jocelyn, cradling her in his arms. "Gods...I'm so sorry," he murmured, stroking her blood-matted hair. "I-I'll get you to a healer...it'll be okay...it has to be okay...." Even as he spoke, he knew the words were a lie. She'd already lost a lot of blood...frankly, she'd be lucky to make it through the night. He felt her shift in his grip, and watched as she laid her remaining hand on the hilt of his gladius, looking at him pleadingly with non-existent eyes....

********

Present

"Mon Dieu," Jacqueline gasped, her mind still reeling from the horrors her friend and mentor had experienced. "What did you do?"

He sighed. "The only thing I could do...at the time, all I knew of the human body came from my experience in the arena, where I was taught how to take lives, not save them. She wouldn't have lasted long enough for me to fetch a healer, and I couldn't bear to watch her suffer. And she couldn't bear it either...that's what she was telling me when she grabbed my sword. So I ended her suffering, as swiftly and painlessly as I could...the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life. Afterwards, I used the torches the Watchers brought and set the house ablaze for real...turned it into a makeshift funeral pyre. I watched it burn, then disappeared for several decades, going someplace where even the bloody Watchers couldn't find me. By the time I re-emerged, the incident with Jocelyn was all but forgotten...by them, anyway." He took another deep breath, turning to look his student in the eyes. "After what happened to her, I swore I'd never allow myself to get close to another of their fanatical little group. Even my relationship with Captain Duval is purely professional...it wasn't like that when I was Aramis and he was a musketeer-in-training, but that was before he joined with them. That happened around the time Aramis 'disappeared.' When I returned as Siroc, I made sure to keep my distance. And now, the same thing is happening with Ramon. I don't want to lose his friendship, as he's probably the closest I've ever had to a brother, but I don't want to see him end up like Jocelyn either. So, if lying to him and allowing Amanda to sway him with her ample charms will keep him safe, I'll do so gladly. She may break his heart, as you predict, but it's preferable to the alternative: a broken heart will heal, in time. Missing body parts won't. Understand?"

Jacqueline nodded, not quite sure what else to say. Though she still wasn't completely comfortable with the idea, she could see Siroc's point. If the Watchers were that fanatical about their rules, maybe it would be better to keep Ramon in the dark.