All characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. All original characters and storylines belong to an oddly dressed woman in a canoe. That's just... it's.... hmm....
Check out my blog for updates: gkkstitch-gkkmouse(dot)blogspot(dot)com
Chapter 14: to try my strength against the three-headed dog
"He's destroyed them!"
All three elders leapt from their seats. Several of the Guard stared at Marcus in dismay. Never before had the apathetic man shown this much reaction to anything.
Aro looked pointedly at each of his brothers. "Jane. Chelsea. Felix. Come with us," he said in a clipped voice as the brothers swept down the dais. Renata followed with her hand on Aro, moving like his shadow.
Aro reached out and lightly brushed Corin as they left the audience chamber. Through Corin's memories, he saw how Sergei and Santiago had manhandled Rolle through the castle. She had taken her station outside the chamber's door and had heard her brethren continue to threaten and abuse Rolle. She did not know what had happened behind that door at the moment she became sick.
From Marcus' mind, Aro had seen one of Carlisle's progeny fall unconscious. Such a condition was unheard of in their immortality, as was vomiting. He added this unique bit of information to his mental list concerning Rolle's abilities.
Aro felt the sneer on his face as he realized two more malcontents were working of their own will, dealing out Volturi law without permission, without guidance, and without their methods being condoned. They were old vampires, yes, and of course they had free will—well, moderately free will seeing as how Chelsea saw to their loyalty—but this renegade attitude of exerting power had to be stopped.
Aro understood better than most that the Volturi position in the vampire world was built on the defacto enforcement of their laws for secrecy. Misapplying power when not necessary would undermine all of that, reducing them to nothing more than bullies. The only way to maintain civility was to deliver justice with pragmatic justification.
Some of the Guard seemed to have forgotten that, egged on by Caius no doubt. Aro thought again of Demetri and began to question himself. Had he lost control of them? Had he slipped in his role as their leader by allowing Caius to sway him to change his mind about Carlisle? Had his position of omniscience weakened simply by changing his mind about the potential threat that Caius spoke so openly about? Had it taken so little?
There was no doubt in Aro's mind that Caius truly felt Carlisle's coven was a threat. There was also no doubt that, having failed to deal decisively with Carlisle, Caius would take advantage of the situation to bolster his position.
A bitterness filled Aro's mouth. Had this mutinous behavior been simmering in their ranks? He looked askance at Caius.
They reached the corridor to the casement. The hall was filled with the smell of venom and blood. Caius took the lead like a military general charging in for battle.
"Caius!" Aro said sharply, then started again, calmer. "If you please, brother, Felix will make sure it is safe."
Caius stopped and looked back at Aro even as Felix gave a crisp nod and took point. Jane stepped forward with a mild, watchful expression that belied her keen readiness.
In a blur, Felix was down the hall and in the room. As the door flung open, Aro could see Rolle for a fraction of a second, before Felix had him standing on his feet in a locking hold. The boy had been simply kneeling, head bowed, and palms up where they rested on his legs. His posture was not defensive in any way, and he did not fight or struggle when Felix entered and restrained him. A look of annoyance flashed over Jane's face when Rolle did not resist.
Aro glanced at Renata and Chelsea, who both nodded that they were ready. Together, they approached the room.
"What have you done?" Marcus said, and though it was a question, it did not sound like one.
Rolle shook his head, his face was pinched with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered, though his words were not to the Volturi. He was failing Bella and Edward, just as he'd failed Gillian.
"They hit me," Rolle answered his new masters.
Aro narrowed his eyes. "Who hit you?" he asked.
Rolle shook his head. "They're always hitting me."
Aro noted that Rolle seemed to be talking to himself. More curious than cautious about this odd behavior, he asked again. "Who? Santiago and Sergei?"
Held tight in Felix's grasp, a shudder shook Rolle as he took a deep breath. "I can fight back now. I couldn't before. I don't have to let them hurt me." His answer, however, did not answer the question.
An image he had gotten from the boy appeared in Aro's mind like a crumpled photograph. It was a man, standing above him, with a fist cocked. There was a faint family resemblance. Aro surmised it wasn't Rolle's father; an uncle, perhaps?
Aro glanced at Chelsea. She stared at Rolle with her complete concentration, using her power to sow feelings of trust and loyalty to Aro within Rolle's mind. Renata, too, was tensed and ready. Aro held his hand up to Marcus. Marcus knew without asking that Aro wanted to know if Chelsea's ability was working on Rolle. He took Aro's hand without question, seeing only that the boy did not mean them ill but that there still were no obvious ties to them from Rolle.
"Where are they?" Caius whispered. "There's no smoke."
"The boy obviously has more up his sleeve than merely a tracker's skill," Aro murmured, unable to keep the awe from his voice. He moved to take a step forward and found himself stalled by Renata's unyielding and protective hand. With an impatient glance at her, she relented and moved forward with her master.
"Rolland," Aro began quietly. "I'm afraid we've gone about this all wrong, and for that you have my deepest apologies. I'm sorry that we were not better prepared for your arrival and that your appearance has set so many of our friends on edge. I promise you that no one else will strike you. This is not our way. We live in peace amongst ourselves here, and our role is simply to maintain the secrecy of the existence of our kind."
Rolle nodded, acknowledging that he'd heard, and Aro motioned to Felix to release him. Rolle did not move from where he stood, simply looking dejected as Aro continued to regard him.
The complete disappearance of two guards was equally disturbing as it was exhilarating in its potential. If they did invite Rolle to join the Guard however, this headstrong willfulness would have to be addressed, both in the boy and in the present Guard.
"Marcus, bring him along to the solar, please," Aro said.
Six pair of red Volturi eyes swiveled to find Aro, hoping they simply heard him wrong. The solar was his private quarters in the castle. Apart from Marcus and Caius, very few were allowed there.
"I wish to talk to him." He looked at Caius, adding, "In private."
He turned and walked back up the corridor, heading to his rooms. Felix remained with Marcus, but the others turned to follow Aro.
"What's the meaning of this?" Caius hissed low, catching up to his brother.
"The boy is wild and overwhelmed," he said. "I simply mean to reassure him and to discover exactly what happened."
"I should be there!" Caius insisted. "It's not safe. Three are now missing, and all of the disappearances are related to this boy."
Aro stopped suddenly and met Caius' intense expression. "And what would you do exactly?"
Rage flashed in Caius face at the perceived disdain Aro was implying. Of the three of them, Caius was the only one without powers and it dug in his side like a festering thorn.
Aro allowed his intentional needling to linger a moment before saying the exact opposite to support another option entirely. "If I disappear, then you will have your answer. You will know the boy is too dangerous to keep, and you can do with him what you will."
Caius carefully schooled his reaction.
Aro noted the change in demeanor. They had been together for so long, he could read Caius' intentions easily even without touching him. "As you say, we don't know what to expect from our young friend, and therefore it is too dangerous to risk more than one of us until we have gained Rolland's loyalty and trust; the very tether you, yourself, said we must acquire if he is to be kept. And you must agree, my brother, that of we three, I am the most suitable to begin that process."
"I only care for your safety, Aro," Caius reassured.
Aro's smile was as friendly as a viper posing as a pet. "Of course you do. To put your mind at ease, I will keep Renata and Jane with me while I speak to our guest. Will that suffice?"
Caius grunted, and quickly realized it was not an answer. He added a quick nod, glancing at the two in question.
"Then will you please go and check on our dear Corin?" Aro said, turning to go. "I'm afraid she's had quite a bad turn, and needs our reassurances."
§∞•••∞§
Marcus said nothing as he escorted Rolle to Aro's chambers, nor did he lay a hand on the boy. They walked in complete silence with Rolle once again falling into heel behind his maker. They passed Caius along the way. His face was set into a sneer, but Rolle could see the suspicion and curiosity burning in his eyes.
This was the man. This was the threat to Bella. Rolle dropped his eyes, concentrating with everything he had to put one foot in front of the other, to follow Marcus, to not react.
The fragments of Rolle's mind pictured Caius' face over that of another man's, seen with barely a glimpse through a car window on a stretch of highway in Los Angeles, moments before Gillian died. What if he could have stopped that car? What if he could have stopped that man before he killed Gillian?
What if he could stop Caius before... before...
Rolle couldn't stop the pain from leaving his chest in a strangled noise. Marcus glanced at him at the sound and assumed the source was simply fear.
"Aro will not hurt you," Marcus assured.
Rolle crushed his eyes closed, thinking only left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. So much... there was so much: schemes, games, tactics, vengeance. All of it was buried by a thick syrup of adoration, indebtedness and compulsion. Some were clamoring for ways to impress, wanting to be noticed by their masters. Others simply followed the law and were eager to find those who would threaten the secret, using the lawbreakers as an output for their pent up violence.
Marcus paused at a heavy chestnut door that was ornately designed with cast iron scrollwork that curled across the timbers like vines of ivy. He knocked but did not wait for a reply, opening the door and stepping aside to motion Rolle past.
Rolle hesitated, still battling in his mind. Marcus reached out and put his hand on Rolle's shoulder to guide him and Rolle flinched away, moving quickly through the door.
When the door closed behind him, Rolle wasn't surprised to see that Marcus had not followed. He was surprised, however, how bright the room was lit. The entire suite was bathed in yellows and golds as bright as the sun. Massive windows of stained glass added to the illusion. The floor was an enormous mosaic with small tiles of white, yellow, beige, orange and gold. It depicted the fall of Troy. The ten-year war was laid before him like an ancient storyboard. Menelaus, the king of Sparta, with his flowing beard; Agamemnon, his brother and the king of Mycenae, was there with his wide eyes; the Achaean army marching from the sea; Paris, Helen... even Achilles, Ajax and Hector were there, and the legendary Trojan Horse.
Rolle stared at the horse, feeling an odd kinship to the most famous ruse in the history of mankind. He looked further around the room, half expecting to see Dante's story depicted here.
Instead, he found walls of golden stained woods and pillars of yellow marble. Enormous hand-penned books were stacked waist high along one wall. Several were open on a heavy table nearby. The color illustrations were penned with stains of berries and dyes, now fading with age. There were animal parchment scrolls placed carefully in wooden cubbies that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Tapestries covered the bare stones of the castle walls. Piles of sheet music were scattered across the floor near a gently displayed violin that was cradled in drapes of velvet.
Rolle felt he had stepped into the fabled libraries of Alexandria, decorated in early Sherlock Holmes. No sooner had the description formed in his mind, than he spied several books with Doyle's name etched in gold on the spines.
"There you are," Aro greeted, waving Rolle into a side chamber. When Rolle complied, Aro motioned him to a seat. "Please."
The only other people in the room were Renata, still hovering behind her master like a shadow, and Jane who was seated in the corner feigning interest in a tiny book that she held in her hands. Rolle stopped near the chair Aro indicated, and watched her. She did not look up or acknowledge him in any way, but her awareness was focused solely on him.
"Rolland?" Aro repeated. "Please, take a seat."
Rolle sat, keeping his eyes down.
"I want you to feel free to speak here, my young friend, because I have something I need to discuss with you." Aro sat back and crossed his legs, comfortably.
Rolle nodded quietly, sliding his hand into Gillian's in his mind.
"I want to know why you attacked Carlisle," Aro said suddenly.
Rolle looked up sharply, startled by this completely unexpected beginning. It took him a moment to realize that Aro was admitting he had not been able to pull this information from his mind.
"I'm very disturbed by this report, I will tell you now," Aro said sternly. "Carlisle is a dear friend of mine, and I will not tolerate him being harassed or harmed."
The many paths that unfolded in Aro's mind, to keep Carlisle out of the eye of scrutiny, overwhelmed Rolle. Aro truly valued Carlisle. A series of schemes and strategies rifled through Aro's mind, already trying to predict what Rolle would say and how Aro should react to what he would learn in the next few moments.
For Rolle, the most shocking revelation was Aro instant decision how he would deal with Caius after this. Aro's reactions were completely unexpected and contradictory to everything Rolle had come to assume over the past several years as he became more aware of the rumors and potential threat to his friends. It was this sourceless understanding that had driven him to seek out the Cullens to warn them.
"I..." Rolle stammered, nonplussed.
"You've heard the rumors?" Aro asked rhetorically.
Rolle dropped his gaze. "I know the rumors."
"I tell you now that I do not believe they are true, but even if they were, Carlisle and his coven would be dealt with by me and no other. I've known Carlisle a long time, and I know his heart. So unless I say otherwise, you are not to accost him in any way, is that understood?"
Aro spoke openly in front of Jane and Renata. Rolle realized that as the Volturi leader's bodyguards they would often hear confidences that others would never be privy to. He also realized he was being given orders as if he was already accepted into the Guard... or perhaps it was just a warning.
"Yes, sir," Rolle answered automatically, still trying to process this unexpected information.
"Me, alone. Do you understand?"
"I understand," Rolle said, his voice quiet and respectful.
"I realize that given the lack of instruction given to you by your maker combined with your nomadic ways, you may not be aware of the Volturi's function in our society. We have one rule above all and that is secrecy. The mortal world cannot know of our existence beyond myth and legend. Now, I realize you've successfully abided by these rules without even knowing their importance, but you are here and it is Marcus' wish that you join the Guard.
"I warn you that I will not tolerate those who ruthlessly pursue their own self-interest at the expense of the whole. Following our laws is in the best interest for all our kind; therefore, if you behave in a manner that exemplifies our goals and truly apply yourself to keeping the secret of our society from the human world, then you will find yourself in my favor. As your benefactor, there will be rewards for exemplary behavior. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
Aro nodded curtly. "Good. Now raise your eyes. You are not subservient here."
Rolle raised his head and looked Aro full in the face. He straightened up and squared his shoulders for good measure.
"We are simply being pragmatic," Aro went on. "There is a balance that must be maintained between predator and prey. We provide the ideal governance for our society, allowing everyone to live as they will, as long as they maintain the secrecy. As long as that one rule is kept, we will allow the individuals to pursue their own interests. The benefits of our social order are applied equally to all... including Carlisle," Aro added pointedly.
"I understand," Rolle repeated.
"Very well." Aro sighed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "Then to the more immediate matter at hand. Sergei and Santiago; what did you do to them?"
Rolle took a deep breath and shook his head. "I don't know... Made them stop hitting me."
"Then, where are they?"
"Gone. Wherever we go when we die."
Aro scrutinized him openly, trying to determine if the boy was being flippant or if there were truly a language barrier at work. "We don't die. We are destroyed. Are you saying you destroyed them?"
"I... I don't know. I guess," Rolle shrugged, a breath escaped with a choking sound. "They... vanish. I don't know where they go. I don't know what else there is for us."
"What do you mean?" Aro asked with narrowed eyes.
"When a man dies, he goes to heaven or hell, or limbo. I don't know where we go when we die after we're dead. I didn't know there was anything left after this."
"What do you mean, after this?" Aro asked. "What do you think this is?"
Rolle floundered for a moment, looking around with a shrug. "I thought this was hell, but..."
"But, what?" Aro pressed, his own curiosity getting the best of him.
"Angels don't... Angels don't visit hell, do they?" Rolle questioned with confused innocence. "Maybe this is purgatory."
"You're Catholic?" Aro observed, not quite succeeding in hiding his surprise. Rolle nodded causing Aro to chuckle. "Well, my young friend, as they say in your world, you picked a hell of a way to pay for your sins." His stilted enunciation of the slang phrase was almost comical coming from him.
Rolle smiled sadly, wryly. "No pun intended?"
"No," Aro laughed in spite of himself, liking Rolle's sense of irony.
Rolle's weak smile disappeared. "I never got Last Rites."
"Oh?" Aro noted that Rolle freely volunteered this information. "And what sins did you stain your soul with?" he asked, playing with Rolle's Catholic guilt like a child would a toy.
"I murdered a man."
Aro noted that Rolle could not keep his gaze as he confessed this. He had seen bits of this when he touched Rolle, but only knew the act of it, not the motivation for it. He pressed on Rolle's psychosis, testing him. "You did far more than that. You hunted him down, defiled yourself to do it, and desecrated his remains."
The memory of his pain-induced rage grinned back at Rolle in his mind. He had let himself become a mindless barbarian, an animal. He had known the moment the man had died, but his death alone could not stem the impotent anger at having Gillian stolen from him.
Rolle's eyes closed, admitting in a whisper, "Yes."
"Just as you killed Sergei and Santiago?" Aro asked.
Rolle winced. "Yes."
"Because they were bad?" Aro prodded. "Because they were evil?"
Rolle's eyes snapped open, filled with hope. "Were they?"
"Are you evil?" Aro asked instead, choosing not to answer. "You killed them. Does that make you evil?"
"Yes," Rolle answered without hesitation.
"Why?"
"I'm a murderer," he repeated again.
"That you may be, but evil men have no conscience, no regret, no values," Aro pointed out, evaluating Rolle's reaction with each word. "They act and react regarding only themselves based on selfish whims, never for a greater purpose. You are not evil. Your faith and remorse are fingerprints of this fact."
Aro watched him carefully as he tested him, gaging Rolle's reaction to this, trying to identify Rolle's motivations and limits. He noted that Rolle was truly listening to his words, almost as if he were absorbing them, processing them, and trying to determine where they fit in the lexicon of his beliefs. Rolle's inexperience in his immortality was evident in his unmistakable quest for self-awareness and knowledge.
"Speaking of faith and remorse," Aro said, continuing his evaluation of the youth, "why did you attack Carlisle and his coven? I happen to know he is not evil. And according to Marcus, they did not 'hit you', as you say."
"I didn't make him go away," Rolle defended.
"No, I suppose not," Aro agreed. "If you had, you would not be here now," he added as a matter of cold fact.
Rolle met Aro's eyes again, cognizant of threat and fully realizing that Aro was not at the heart of the danger toward Edward and Bella.
"Carlisle is also a man of faith and remorse," Aro continued, "and more, he is my friend. Now... why did you attack him?"
This was it, Rolle realized. This would determine if Aro would bring him into the Volturi or simply have him destroyed.
"I knew Demetri thought the Cullens were a threat and that he was hunting them," he explained. "But Demetri wanted to take advantage of the situation and destroy Marcus, too, and blame it on Carlisle. I stopped Demetri before he could get close to Marcus.
"Afterwards, I found Marcus with the Cullens, but I couldn't tell how Carlisle was dangerous." Rolle frowned, shaking his head. "I didn't know what to do, but there were four of them and Marcus was alone. If Demetri was right, if they were dangerous..." Rolle's argument trailed off. "But Marcus stopped me. He said I couldn't hurt Carlisle, so I didn't."
Aro raised his brow. "You killed Demetri... and saved Marcus. Then Marcus saved Carlisle by stopping you?"
Rolle shrugged in answer, knowing that saying anything else would simply make it harder to convince Aro of the lie.
"How did you know what Demetri intended?" Aro asked.
Rolle saw his first glimmer of hope. "I don't know. I just knew."
"You just knew?"
Rolle nodded and tried to explain. "It was like I was him. I knew what he was going to do. I knew where he was and why. I knew what he would do if the storm slacked. I knew he wanted to be respected and feared."
Aro glanced at Jane and Renata, acknowledging them in the room for the first time. His returned his calculating gaze to Rolle, raising one hand to drag his fingers over his lips as he recalled Marcus' appraisal of the boy's tracking skills, even while mortal. If those innate skills had blossomed during the change, as it appeared they had, then Rolle would be an invaluable addition to the Guard, particularly in light of the loss of Demetri.
Aro realized with deep irony that if what Rolle said was true, he had "lost" Demetri long before his physical death. Perhaps this new acolyte could be the key to regaining control of the Guard and squashing these petty ambitions. More importantly, if Rolle's tracking skills were truly this unique, he was more than simply a tracker. He could intuit the motivations and decisions of others. Tracking was the least effective use of his skills. With more awareness, the boy would be a master strategist. Aro clenched his jaw to keep from smiling as Caius' usefulness was greatly diminished. He wondered what the extent of Rolle's sixth-sense could be and if it could be used preemptively. Was there a possibility that the boy could intuit Cauis' motivations?
There was one major point to address, however.
Rolle's mind was like an unassembled puzzle of broken glass. Each memory was sharp, scattered across the landscape of his mind, but each splinter reflected images in stark clarity. Though Aro could not determine the context of Rolle's mind, he had clearly seen the images of each piece. Several of those pieces caused him great concern.
"How do you know the Romanians?" he asked.
Rolle snarled and shot out of his chair, sending it crashing behind him. Jane and Renata were before Aro in an instant as an immortal barrier.
"Why?" Rolle demanded. "Don't tell me they're under your protection, too! They can't be!"
Aro's shock melted into amazed laughter. He gazed at Rolle in open-mouthed delight. "Oh, my boy," he almost cooed. "No, they most certainly are not."
Rolle dropped his offensive posture, taking a half step back. His actions did not affect those of the two women, however. Aro touched the shoulder of both and only then did they relax, but just slightly, alert and ready for any other outburst.
"You do know them, then?" Aro asked quietly, his hand held palm up as if offering more than friendship.
Rolle looked quickly between all three vampires facing him. His nod was sharp but barely discernable as motion. His eyes were hard and his face was tight with pain and mistrust as he thought of the antediluvians that had welcomed him into hell.
"They... they made me..." Rolle trailed off, breathing hard through his nose, clenching his jaw. "They tried to..."
As he tried to sum up his experience with the Romanians, Rolle's breathing grew harsher and he shuddered with rage. He gave up trying to find the words and gritted out, "I don't like them," through his teeth, venom spitting from his lips.
Nostrils flared, eyes glaring with anger; Rolle looked every bit the demon he thought himself to be.
Aro's smile was self-satisfied and smug. "Jane, be a dear and bring some black robes for our new friend."
§∞•••∞§
A/N: Love and thanks to mah peeps: Irishgirl, Songster, Milalencar and Philadelphic. Giant hugs to the newest member of my review team, Emmanuelle Nathan, who gave me new insight into sneaky vampire motivations. Thanks to Nikki Pattinson over at Twilighted for always being on top of her game. She validates my chapters for posting with amazing speed.
Also wanted to give Coconut M&M's and sloppy kisses to MsKathy for the tech tips in how to add rotating pictures to my blog! All my hours of research and squirreling away pictures will get to be enjoyed by everyone now! Squee!!
to try my strength against the three-headed dog
The Myth of Orpheus
http://www(dot)renaissanceastrology(dot)com/orpheushymns(dot)html
Reviews are like comforting hands to a once-abused kid like Rolle....