After the Fall: Sol Invictus Mithras

by kasviel

This is a direct sequel to my previous story "Broken: After The Fall" so please read that first. Daniel's recovery from the events at Brennenburg continues, with Henry Bedloe faithfully by his side. But as the horror of adventure fades into the past, Daniel begins to yearn for a new conquest. Can Henry tame Daniel's ambitions?

3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

February 18, 1840

Daniel was disappointed by the following days. Henry did not mention the group again, and it was difficult to pry any information out of him. As far as Daniel could tell, he had reconciled with Paternoster, and he was going to begin his next round of experiments soon. Daniel requested to see him at work, but Henry refused. He still did not trust Daniel's tendency towards madness, and thought it best that the young man stay as far away from dark practices as possible. Daniel called out his hypocrisy and argued until a threat forced him to give it all up. He had nothing to do but sulk after that, and Henry was too busy with his work to pay him much mind. Feeling neglected, Daniel busied himself with the only interesting thing in his life: Ledford's artifacts.

This afternoon, Daniel sat alone with several dusty pieces, brushing them off with infinite care. The cuneiform writing seemed familiar to him for some reason, as if it were conveying a message he could almost read. The smell of the desert sand reminded him of his African expedition, the trauma of which had faded enough to leave only nostalgia. The reptilian odor had faded some, though when he caught a whiff of it, Daniel sneezed. Today he did not mind, as he was vexed by Henry's threats and control; the artifacts were a welcome distraction.

Charles Ledford appeared. Daniel realized that he had not seen the man all day, which was a rare occurrence. Charles had been in the museum every day since returning with his prizes, more enraptured by them than anyone. Had he fallen ill? His eyes were a bit glazed and he was pale. Perhaps his tan has finally faded from lack of sun, Daniel thought. Everything fades to gray in this civilized old city.

"Hello, Daniel," Charles greeted him. "Hard at work, I see."

"I find these characters most interesting," Daniel had to admit. "Have the linguists come to any conclusions?"

"They are stumped, my good man," Charles said. "The patterns correspond to no ancient tongue they have ever seen or even suspected. A mathematician swears there is a numerical pattern to their formations, but he has had no luck reconciling this with language. We may never know what was meant to be recorded here. I've stared at them so long my brain has started to pound, but I am no linguist."

"Something about it seems almost familiar," Daniel said. "Not to sound superstitious, of course."

"I think I've come down with some superstition myself," Charles chuckled ruefully. "I see the damn things in my dreams sometimes."

"Do you?"

"It's always the same image: those reptile deities carving these cuneiform characters into stone," Charles said. "I see them out there in the desert in some dim age, scurrying to the cave from a city in the far distance. I see … another Africa, a half-aquatic and green Africa of another time. It is all so very clear to me: a city filled with those beast-men diving in and out of the waves, like the capitol of Hell. It is the damnedest thing."

Charles laughed, but it sounded artificial. Daniel felt his skin ripple into gooseflesh inside his clothes. He nearly dropped the stone tablet he was holding, and set it aside carefully. He felt that his hands were soiled and hastily wiped them off on a handkerchief.

"And now I know how the savage man dreams," Charles said with a perplexed laugh. "It must have been quite a queer civilization to dream up and deify such monstrous beings. Don't you think?"

"Certainly."

It seemed to Daniel that the reptilian odor had risen as Charles spoke of his dreams. He sneezed several times in succession. Charles bid him take a break from the stuffy air, and Daniel took some minutes to himself in the hallway. The museum was quiet for once. Daniel breathed in the fresh air, admired the solemn elegance of the building. Perhaps he was being too demanding about his career. It was not bad to be working here, and he no longer had to worry about uncovering hideous secrets in the remote corners of the world. Perhaps Henry was right and he should simply be grateful for all he had.

When he returned to the room he saw Charles standing before a fresco depicting the reptile things. He was staring fixedly at them, his mouth moving soundlessly. Did I ever look that haunted? Daniel wondered. I must have, when I returned with the Orb. I wonder what the cause of Charles' distress is? Is there something in the writing? The imagery? I wish that I could ask Mr. Paternoster about it.

Then again, why can't I?

Daniel excused himself from work early. Charles was too distracted to do more than bid him good evening. Daniel headed into the city on foot, wandering around a little while before finding the Solus Club. To his surprise, he was allowed in to see Paternoster before long. The man was in the social hall, sitting in a chair by the fireplace. The young man Daniel had seen at the manor before, Beechworth, was in the chair opposite him. Daniel was invited to join them and sat. He accepted a drink to ease his anxiety.

"Good evening, Daniel," Paternoster greeted him. "I must say that I am surprised to see you enjoying the comforts of my club yet again."

"I'm not here on my own behalf," Daniel lied. "I have something to ask concerning a friend. However, first I'd like to ask, if I may: Henry has decided to stay with the group, yes?"

"He hasn't told you?"

"He scarcely tells me a thing about the group or his work or anything," Daniel seethed. "He's over-protective."

"That would be a first," Beechworth commented with a chuckle. "Of all the things his lovers complain about, protectiveness has never been one of them."

"His lo—" Daniel stopped himself from delving into unimportant matters. He shook his head and took another drink, turning back to Paternoster. "His work is continuing, so I assume that he has reconciled with you enough to have your support."

"Yes, Henry has decided to resume his role in the Sol Invictus Mithras," Paternoster replied. "I expect you wish to be inducted into the group now as well?"

"No—not yet," Daniel said. "I have to speak with Henry about it first."

Beechworth snickered into his glass. Daniel glared at him until he sobered. Henry must be known well in the group, Daniel thought miserably. They all know about his proclivities, hence my role in his lifestyle. Damn him! Humiliating me even when he's not here!

Paternoster had the bemused expression of a grandfather watching small grandchildren squabble at his feet. He sipped wine (Daniel had yet to see him drink anything else) and smoked from a pipe whose bowl was carved in the image of an Eastern king. The smoke smelled faintly of lotus and rose. The rose fragrance brought back unpleasant memories.

"What I came to inquire about was the recent return of the Ledford Expedition," Daniel said hastily. "I have become friends with Charles Ledford, and I am helping to research the artifacts that he brought back to the museum. I am told that you funded the expedition?"

"I patronize many endeavors."

"The artifacts seem to be having a strange effect on Charles' mind," Daniel said. "I know the look he had in his eyes today, it's not very different from the one I had after returning from Africa."

"Yes. And?"

"I just wondered exactly what it is that he found?" Daniel asked. "Is it dangerous?"

"Who can say?" Paternoster shrugged. "There are many mysteries in this world, Daniel. I have neither the time nor the obligation to begin explaining them all to you."

Stung, Daniel drank steadily. Beechworth seemed to take some pity on him. He turned in his chair to him, after getting a nod of permission from Paternoster.

"Now that the British Museum is interested in exploring beyond Western shores, the group has a rare opportunity to steer their researches in the most illuminating directions," Beechworth informed Daniel. "This must be done very subtly, of course, but anything is possible with enough money."

"I see," Daniel said. "So, in the case of Charles Ledford, you were able to suggest a site of excavation?"

"More of a general location, included within a list of many potential sites," Beechworth said. "Certain researchers that are loyal to us also joined the expedition team and were able to conveniently 'discover' the correct clues to lead the expedition in the right direction."

"Yes, Henry said you send spies into the mainstream to glean information that might be useful to the group."

"For all his protest, Henry is already treating you as a member of the group," Paternoster remarked. "Normally no one of us would be so free with that information to an outsider."

"I'm not quite an outsider, though, am I?"

Paternoster nodded in agreement. He sipped wine. Daniel turned back to Beechworth.

"What were you looking for out there?" he asked. "Charles said that some of his men joked about finding Irem, the City of Pillars."

"Oh?" Paternoster intervened. "And what do you know about Irem, Daniel?"

"Nothing. I just heard the name when Charles said it."

"How disappointing," Paternoster sighed. "You've not even read the correct literature. Have you ever even heard of the Pnakotic Manuscripts? The Necronomicon? De Vermis Mysteriis?"

What do all those titles mean? Daniel wondered. They certainly sound important—dark, but important.

"No, I've never heard of those—books?"

"Books, and more than books," Paternoster said. "They are a good starting point, flawed as they all are. But I cannot offer you access to them until you are inducted into the group."

"Oh."

Paternoster looked impatient with him, but he said nothing. Daniel felt inadequate and foolish. He wished that he had found the Sol Invictus Mithras before Alexander, before Henry, and had joined of his own free will and on the merits of his own talent. It would have been wonderful to be a part of this wise old society before his traumas doomed him with such fear and fragility.

"Many have sought Irem for countless ages, and the group is no different," Beechworth explained. "In that sense, the Ledford Expedition was something of a failure. However, they did manage to uncover salient relics of another race and age."

"Those frescoes and bas reliefs depicting the reptilian race, you mean?"

Beechworth and Paternoster shared a look.

"Yes, something must be done about those," Paternoster said. "It is quite dangerous that they are out in the open of the museum for all to see."

"That would be the one downside to using the mainstream to accomplish anything," Beechworth said. "It is difficult to hide away dangerous items before the laymen get their clumsy hands on them."

"We will garner useful information from whatever events transpire, though," Paternoster said. "And when the relics present a challenge to convention, they will be hidden away or, if we are lucky, put up for sale."

"And you would buy them?" Daniel guessed.

"Of course."

"Why not simply have them stolen?" Daniel asked. "Your group seems powerful enough to set such a thing in motion."

"Aren't you just unscrupulous?" Beechworth laughed. "It would be feasible, but most inconvenient. These matters usually take care of themselves."

"The way my 'matter' took care of itself?"

"You're not still sore over that, are you?" Beechworth asked. "For the sake of secrecy, the group must intervene in the world as little as possible. Knowledge comes to those who wait. The group wouldn't have survived from the Roman era until now if it went blundering into every occult mystery the moment it arose."

"I guess you're right," Daniel agreed. "I blindly delved into the mysteries of the Orb, and look how that turned out."

"It turned out rather well for the group," Beechworth said. "Don't look at me that way, Daniel. If you are going to be a member of the Sol Invictus Mithras, you must accept our primary tenet: the pursuit of knowledge at all costs."

"Is it really that rigid?" Daniel asked. "You allow Henry to maintain his position in the group, but he wouldn't sacrifice me for it, I think that's obvious. And I don't think I would sacrifice him for it, either."

"You 'don't think'?" Beechworth laughed. "Good God, you can be cold, man."

"It is the ideal, but the group enforces no rules with extremity—save the ones preserving our secrecy," Paternoster said. "I see you mistrust us, but understand that you were not a member of the group when we took the actions we did. We had no reason to try to protect your well-being. Henry's actions were unexpected. I admit that the whole thing could have been handled with more tact. I sometimes forget how … emotional human beings can be."

"For the record, I did try to warn him," Beechworth said. "Henry was smitten by you, Daniel, positively smitten. I thought it might lead to trouble."

"Back to the subject at hand, wh—what were we discussing again?"

"I think you are worried for your friend Charles, but there is no action the group is obliged to take currently," Beechworth said. "We will wait and watch, as always. If you wish to learn more, you really must be inducted, Daniel."

"Of course," Daniel said glumly. "But … "

"Yes?"

"You say that you intervene in the world as little as possible, and you value secrecy," Daniel said. "Would it not be possible to induct me in secret? Has that never been done before? I doubt all spouses and family members are told when you make one of their own a member?"

Beechworth laughed heartily. Paternoster blinked once.

"Your assumptions are correct," the elder man said. "We are not obliged to tell Henry of your membership. However, are you certain that is the course you wish to take? He will find out what you've done eventually."

"But at least then he won't be able to scare me out of it," Daniel said. "I'd rather deal with the fallout of my actions than try to talk him into giving me permission."

Paternoster actually smiled a little. He nodded, sipping his wine.

"Then we will meet on the morrow, young Daniel," he said. "I bid you goodnight."

"And good luck," Beechworth muttered.

Pleased with himself, Daniel stood. He shook the hands of the two men and left the club. Paternoster refilled his glass while Beechworth watched the man leave.

"You'd really make him a member of the group?" Beechworth asked doubtfully. "He may be a little older than I am, but he's rather useless, don't you think?"

"No, I think it is quite the opposite," Paternoster said. "I believe Daniel may turn out to be very useful indeed. There is more to that man than meets the eye, more than he even suspects himself."

Beechworth raised his eyebrows, then frowned. He had only joined the group a year ago but since then he had proven himself worthy enough to be an occasional companion to Paternoster. Paternoster enjoyed fostering the very young, and had a habit of taking the brightest new inductees under his wing. Beechworth's only competition thus far had been Henry Bedloe, and he had expected Henry's weakness for Daniel to ruin his relationship with Paternoster. Instead, it seemed that that unpleasantness would only result in the addition of another youth vying for Paternoster's attention. And an unworthy one at that, Beechworth thought. Daniel is good for a laugh, but if Paternoster takes him seriously, the matter is no longer humorous. What does he see in that man? All I can see is another one of Bedloe's boys, only more broken, more simpering. What possible use could he be of to the group? Why is Paternoster encouraging him?

Beechworth looked at Paternoster, but he was inscrutable as ever. Beechworth only hoped that his intentions for Daniel were temporary. He was struggling enough to gain a foothold on his own ambitions, and did not need another competitor diverting his attention.

---

On the street, Daniel realized that he had left his hat at the museum. Irritated, he returned to the building despite the late hour. It was very quiet given the late hour, only a few dedicated researchers were working in their offices. The looming building's austere emptiness reminded Daniel of Brennenburg, and he hurried to fetch his hat. On his way back to the entrance, he paused outside the room where the Ledford discoveries were being studied. He thought that he had seen something move in the dark room. Was Charles so far gone that he was still in there? The Sol Invictus Mithras said they would not intervene, but had not once said the relics were not dangerous.

"Charles?" Daniel called. "Is that you?"

Daniel entered the dark room tentatively. The reptilian odor was more noxious than ever. He took out a perfumed handkerchief and held it over his nose and mouth. The preserved images of long-dead monsters leered from their stone prisons. Something rustled in the depths of the room. Daniel whirled around, but he could discern nothing but deep shadows.

"Charles?"

Daniel's voice was small and thin, swallowed by the large space. Was someone whispering just there? No, he could see no one, nothing. His nerves began to fray and the hair on the back of his neck rose. It was all he could do to keep his mind from spinning off into the darkest imaginings.

"Ch—" Daniel ran out of breath and had to gasp before speaking again. "Charles?"

This time he was sure of the sound he heard: furtive scurrying. He told himself it must be rats, rats got into every place in the city, it could only be rats. Rats did not make the sound of footsteps, however. Daniel's blood ran cold. He stood stock still in the center of the room, not even daring to turn back.

"Charles, if you're there answer me?"

The plea was less than a whisper. Daniel numbly walked forward, his breathing unsteady. The reptilian odor began to mingle with another one. Daniel's heart skipped a beat and his stomach plummeted at the unmistakable metallic scent of blood. The floor grew darker before him, but not with shadow this time. Further ahead, he saw the slumped figure from which the dark pool was spreading.

Daniel gave a cry and panic overtook him. He fled from the room, crying for help. He cringed against the wall babbling while the room was lit and explored by the other men. He heard startled sounds coming from within. Daniel saw the looks in the eyes of the other men and ceased his cries. He could not be seen as a coward, he must not be. He steeled himself and returned to the room. One of the researchers was collapsed on the floor, blood pooling around his head. Apparently one of the larger stone pieces had fallen out of its crate and dashed him upon the head, killing him.

"Poor fellow," a man said. "But do not be so upset, Daniel, it was only an accident."

Daniel looked at the splash of blood upon a depiction of one of the reptilian beings and was not so certain. The blood seemed an offering to the vicious humanoid reptile. There was little to be done about it, and Daniel did not dare voice his suspicions. He waited for the police to come and then gave them his statement. At one point, Charles Ledford appeared. Upon seeing the body, he went stark white.

"Terrible luck, just terrible," he murmured to Daniel. "Poor man, poor man. Why was he working in there alone?"

"Why shouldn't he be?"

Charles shook his head and did not answer. His eyes were more sunken than ever and his face had hardened since his return. Daniel wondered why he was in the museum so late, and then noticed the book under his arm. It was a large book bound with battered black leather, a few pages inside loosely sticking out. It looked like something from the archives, perhaps something pertaining to Charles' discoveries.

"You look exhausted, Charles," Daniel said. "Why not join me for a drink?"

"Hm? Oh. No, I couldn't," Charles said. He lifted the book in his arm. "I still have research to do, more research."

"Surely not after all of this?"

"Especially after all of this!" Charles burst out. "I'm sorry, I … I am not myself just now. You've had quite the shock yourself. Go home, Daniel, rest. Be glad that you can rest easily."

Daniel's curiosity nettled at him but his nerves were shot. He bid Charles goodnight and left the museum. Outside, he took a hansom cab home. At least it's got nothing to do with me, he thought, staring out the cab's window. More death, but it isn't my fault this time.

Once home, the first thing Daniel did was dose himself with laudanum. Henry scolded him for his lateness and they went to dinner together. Once the food and drug had revivified him, Daniel explained what had happened at the museum.

"I'm beginning to wonder if the ancient world should be uncovered," Henry said. "All that ever seems to be unearthed are inhuman evils and ancient misfortunes. You should count yourself lucky to be working from the comfort of the museum, just give those Ledford artifacts a wide berth from now on."

"I intend to," Daniel said. "Still. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say."

"I thought that your venturing days were over?"

"Mine are," Daniel said. He paused. "Perhaps."

"You say that, but you wouldn't last a day without me," Henry said. "Look at your state tonight, one dead body and you're back to laudanum. I should make you sleep alone just to prove the point."

Daniel hated to admit it, but Henry was right. If he were living alone, it would be a sleepless night. That's the rub of it, how dependent I am on Henry, he thought. I've had his help since my second day back in London and I haven't been able to shake the habit of relying on him. I need his strength, because mine was all used up at Brennenburg. Will I ever be able to stand on my own two feet?

"Henry, you've taken me in as a lover, but you've discontinued being my psychiatrist," Daniel said. "Do you prefer me this way?"

"What way is that?"

"Broken."

"To be honest, I do," Henry said. "Don't pout about it, Daniel. You were the one that called me something of a beast, remember? As such, I like my prey a bit softened. There's nothing wrong with that."

"There is for me," Daniel said. "I don't want to remain 'softened', Henry. I want to heal. I was never particularly brave, but I was daring enough to try to fulfill my ambitions. I want to be that man again. I want to be a man again."

"If you would like to continue our sessions, then we can," Henry said. "I would say that you are healing well, though, Daniel. Sometimes I think you are healing too well."

"What do you mean?"

"Once Alexander was taken from you, all your guilt seemed to go with him," Henry said. "It's not even been a year since you got into all that trouble in Africa, and you're already yearning for your old curiosity and recklessness."

"But you're here now," Daniel said. "You can stop me from being reckless. As for curiosity, I can't help that, and I would get nowhere in my career without it."

"I am here to reign you in, but I wouldn't be if you went on some expedition," Henry pointed out. "I can give you all the therapy in my power, but it wouldn't change the fact that you're attracted to danger like a moth to flame. You are also prone to madness, besides."

"That was Alexander's fault."

"That is precisely why you can't be trusted, because you think like that," Henry said, pointing his fork at Daniel. "Alexander may have guided your hand, but you kept it steady, didn't you? I am no stranger to cruelty, my experiments have come close to torture, but even I have never gone so far as you did. I am a scientist, my actions have always been for the greater good, and I avoid unnecessary suffering. You, dear Daniel, are a maniac."

"Whatever I am, you won't presume to direct my career, will you?"

"So long as you stay in this blessed country, no, I won't interfere with it."

"And if I decide to join an expedition?"

"If you're unable to walk, you won't be able to travel."

That ended the matter. Despite his threat, Daniel's questions worried Henry. It was not only for Daniel's sake that he wanted to keep the young man close. I've never loved anyone before, Henry thought uncomfortably. I let him get away once and if he had died at Brennenburg, I never would have had him. I couldn't stand to let him go again.

After dinner they settled down for their nightcaps in the parlor. Daniel read the evening newspaper with interest. Henry smoked a cigar, watching him intently. He pondered why he loved the man so much. He had had more beautiful boys, and a few of them were needy enough. What was it about this one that had always inspired such bestial desire? He sometimes wished that he did not love him so much. Love was proving to be a difficult burden to bear, especially with a lover as unruly as Daniel. It was galling to worry about another man this severely, and a bitter humiliation to realize there was only so much he could keep Daniel from doing. God forbid Daniel ever realized the power he had over Henry; he would be impossible if he did.

"Do you really want to leave me, Daniel?"

"Hm?"

"Do you really want to go off on some adventure and be away from me for so long?" Henry asked. He kept his tone neutral, but his light eyes were morose. "I know I can be hard on you, but I do love you, you know."

"I know that, Henry," Daniel said blandly. "I only miss having an—an ambition."

Daniel sounded like he was repeating something. Henry wondered who he had been talking to.

"You'll find something to do with yourself here in England," Henry said. "You're being too impatient. You're only twenty-four."

"But if I did find something to work towards here in England, would you allow me to?" Daniel asked slowly. "You don't share your work with me, and you've forbidden me from joining the Sol Invictus Mithras."

"Must you be so extreme about everything?" Henry grumbled. "You didn't know the group even existed before you met me. Why are you so desperate to join it?"

"Because it's a way of exploring the world and history without going on an expedition," Daniel said. "I can't turn a blind eye to the truth of things anymore, Henry, not after all I've gone through. I want to face those mysteries, to understand them as much as possible, so that I won't fear them so much anymore."

"It's that fear that's keeping you safe—from the horrors of this world and from yourself," Henry said. "You would do well to obey it."

"But Henry—"

"No, I don't want to hear another word about it," Henry said. "I won't allow it."

I had better not broach the subject again, Daniel thought, biting his tongue. He returned to the newspaper in frustration. He won't ever let me accomplish anything, he's too protective. I'll have to keep my actions to myself.