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Sorrow's End - Archie the Nightwalker
Chapter 20 - The Adversary

Chapter 20 - The Adversary

“Carmele, are you sure? You said you had a long day.” Why was I trying to dissuade her? To show her the boundless generosity of my character? Out of the window with that. I desired her attention more than anything else.

“Oh, don’t mention it,” she said quickly, about to turn up the stairs again.

“You can have my cloak,” I proposed, already swinging it off.

She hesitated, touched it, “but it’s very thin, isn’t it?” And then she looked up, “I must check in on Sibylle, I don’t want her to stay up or worry,” she said, biting her lip. I don’t think she was conscious of it.

“She’s asleep,” I told her helpfully, and she frowned at me.

“Don’t be impatient now, let me verify.” And she came down with her own cape of thick wool, eyeing me with a smile which showed that she was not at all pleased, “and by the way how did you know?”

Privacy. Damn. “Simply, because… I realized, this is problematic, but it has become second nature to me, you see, my senses are very acute indeed, very sharp…” I wasn’t sure how to slither out of that one.

“Don’t lie to me,” she told me intently.

“I didn’t,” I protested.

“I know you didn’t, but you almost did.” She stated innocently, stretching her arms before moving out with me. “And it is problematic, your stalking, you’re lucky indeed that I like you.”

“You’re lucky that I like you,” I retorted drily, “and you owe me one, for you lied to me earlier, did you not? While I have not…” or had I? “Well, not meaningfully.”

“Not meaningfully?” She repeated, but there was a hint of slyness in her grey, steely eyes, “and when have I lied to you?”

“When you said you didn’t like me,” I replied readily, and smugly.

“I like some sides of you and dislike others,” she said, shrugging shamelessly, “I was unprecise. Now. What details have you lied to me about?”

“For one… I am not from Reims, but from Epernay.”

“Epernay?”

“A small town south of Reims.”

“Hm. How old are you really, Archie? If you are immortal?”

I huffed, and batted my hand, “not old. I told you, didn’t I? I was only Nightborn last autumn, so I am positively only one year and a half older than I look. Hm? It has been twenty-six years since I was born to my mother. You are twenty, I realize.”

“I am,” she agreed in an easy manner, “…you stalker.”

“Oh stop it, you wound me,” I muttered, looking away to ignore her amused gaze. This could not be rewarded. She looked away also, but only to admire the silent street. She apparently took pity on me in the short silence, grabbing my arm as we walked. Her warmth… my heart skipped a beat or two.

“Am I perfectly safe with you?” She asked, and again I wondered if she was teasing or trying to talk me up, to feed to my pride

“Naturally,” I said, with all the calm poise I could muster.

“I do feel safe with you,” she then said, and my heart swelled and burst out of my chest. Or so it felt, but it was still beating in my chest when I looked down. “There, Archie, the moon! Beautiful, tonight. Full.”

“Yes, it is ravishing.” Like you. I wanted to say it, but I didn’t. Too cheesy, I felt. She captivated me.

“Ravishing indeed…” her tone lingered, “but of Sibylle, yes? She is in love with you. Of that, there is no doubt, she talks of you with stars in her eyes.”

“It is only because she is so young,” I said, though I didn’t want to talk about her now.

“She is young, and you have this mysterious allure, and confidence, which blows most women away, you know. How many have you seduced, in truth? Before coming here. I know not one other has caught your eyes here, I have held counsel.”

“Held counsel, you have?” I laughed heartily. It pleased me. More attention, please.

“Answer my question, will you not?”

“I shall, and in earnestness.” But it surprised me. Women did not want to hear of the others, did they? Just like I did not want to think of her others, had there been some. “Sometime,” I said, changing my mind.

“Oh you tease,” she exclaimed, attempting to rustle my arm and finding it very heavy to move.

“But regarding Sibylle… you feel she shouldn’t know about us?” I asked, feeling a rush in my belly. Us.

“In time… but I fear it will make her hostile to me. I am aware she has some resentment towards me. Of course, you don’t look surprised, it has been noted, hasn’t it? You are so very keen!”

“You are too kind,” I said quickly, almost frightened by the many, direct compliments. They overthrew me.

“Who is that?” She asked, jerking her chin at a figure planted in the middle of the street, watching us standing quietly.

Damn. She had been so distracting. We stopped and I prodded him. Damn. Such impeccable timing. Absolutely marvellous. Fantastically horrendous. My kin, and now, of all times. I was suddenly of a mind to tear their head of.

“Archie?” She said carefully, losing the cheer altogether. Curses!

The figure was clothed in white, with gold embroidery, and everything was a perfect fit. The sheathed sword at the side hung from the belt, made for it each other. He was not tall, nor was he thin.

“Archibald, I presume?” The voice that boomed down the street was thick and full, and unnaturally so. The eyes were brown and glowing, showing me a face that was angular and broad beneath perfectly trimmed brown hair.

“Who is that, Archie?” Carmele frowned, “you! Who are you?” She actually stepped forward, and I imagined her to cut quite the fierce figure. It was what she did. Men pounced on fear. She was always ready to scream and fight and frighten them.

But he ignored her. “I really apologize for interrupting, Archibald, however, the night is growing old and I impatient. It would have been convenient, if you had terminated the fun much earlier… it is really surprising, for I thought you were not one to play with food.”

“Do we know each other?” I asked hardly, stomach sinking as I stepped forward and in front of Carmele, laying a hand on her lower back, which I hoped she felt through the cape and layers of wool. To calm her. His words were confounding her. She was beyond alarmed. He must have seemed mad to her.

The man bowed lightly. “Amero, is the name.”

Amero! Of all times!

“Well-met, then,” I said amiably, mostly for Carmele’s sake, hoping he in turn would keep the tone as civil, “and I am grateful for your patience, yet I don’t think we had an appointment arranged. If it pleases you, you can find me tomorrow night, an hour after sundown, at the southern gate.” And I gave him a sunny smile.

Carmele awaited. Amero laughed, eyes wide. It was disconcerting. “What! You refuse me? For this one! Dear Lord! What kind of hunter are you! Be done with her, for you and I, we must talk! Of Fetinja, and Michael. I have found Raymond, Michael’s child, and you, my dear, I have a bone to pick with you. For two of mine are dead!” He laughed again, but there was no joy in it.

He was mad! And Carmele was stuck in the middle of him and me! I did not know if I could fight him, but I most assuredly knew that I could not do so while effectively safeguarding her. Curses! And he could not know how important she was to me either! So many lines to balance. My hand was still on her back, and I drew her to me, protectively. Like I owned her, like she was my prey and not his. At least, I hoped he would see it this way. She thankfully didn’t fight me, or wouldn’t know what to do.

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“Alright. But as far as I know, Fetinja is not dead,” I said in a way that showed both that I was serious and unafraid, and respectful, I hoped, “last I saw her, she fled from the…” Damn, I didn’t want to scare Carmele. Then again, she was not so easily scared, was she? “…from the battle.”

“The battle?” Carmele repeated, but she must have sensed the gravity in my manner and quieted then.

“Fetinja took a deep wound from a silver blade, one she could not recover from. I felt it, and I hoped my blood would heal her,” Amero said lowly, furiously, “but I did not find her in time. She is dead, most assuredly. And so is Michael, who I liked dearly. More, even. He was an excellent friend. I travelled with him, you see. I was told it was all your idea. And here you are, prancing around with a new, pretty thing, while mine are dead. Frankly… I am not inclined to let you live.” He smiled without joy, showing fangs.

“Raymond is dead, then?” I asked, keeping my composure only due to Carmele’s presence.

“Raymond, that fool, he lives. He is an aimless rabbit. He cannot see farther than his own nose, and why Michael liked him, I cannot fathom, a shallow fool, but a fierce one. I considered pointing him in your direction. I think he would have fought you, if only for the thrill. As I said… a fool.”

Damn. There would be a lot more to unpack for Carmele…

“I don’t think you want to fight me,” I said calmly, as I sensed her approach. What a brave, brave old woman. She really had to care for Carmele.

“Bah, you’re full of yourself. Not two years old. Drunk on power. You’ve studied the Art, yes? Bah.” He leisurely sauntered, askance of us, but without taking his eyes off of me. “And you made quite a ruckus, also! The Church! It has been five decades since they were last this intent on hunting us, the morons, all my young children,” he threw his hands into the air, “damnation! Hellfire! I would kill you where you stand! Moron! I am furious! You have put all of mine in such danger!”

A put a hand up defensively, trying to keep calm though I was anything but. “My apologies. Fetinja attempted to teach me your ways, but I have embraced them only now. Our… our break left me reeling, I fear, and hurting. I was not myself.”

“Yes, yes… that I understand, she was enchanting, I remember,” his eyes remained on me, dagger-sharp, “now who is this who is joining us? Not a witch, I hope? How could a witch help you, with their potions and spirits? Will she throw poison at me? Curse me to eternity?” He chortled, apparently finding her of no menace at all. I had been right, then. But then what was she doing here?

“Rachelle!” Carmele exclaimed, surprised, she turned in my arm and stuck her head out from my frame to get a look at her.

My eyes remained on the threat. “I apologize, Amero. I plan for no more trouble. I promise.”

He suddenly stilled, and his eyes narrowed. “Blast it. You do seem to mean it. And it has been difficult tracking you down, with how quiet you have been travelling around. Fine! Have it your way. But know this: should I hear of one more child of mine dead by your whimsical, thoughtless nature, then I shall have your head!”

And as if to contradict his words, he blasted forward like a gush of wind armed with deadly claws and teeth. I extracted myself from Carmele in all haste and we clashed and twisted in the air before separating violently. Amero landed catlike against a wall, laughing wide-eyed, arms stretched out, while I drew dust in the street, eyes on Carmele, who had fallen on her butt, and I smelled bloody scratches on her hands.

“A simple taste,” Amero said, smiling, and I saw that his fangs were bloodied. My arm.

“Begone!” I vociferated furiously, and he disappeared with another laugh. I rushed to Carmele and helped her up. Her face was cold as steel, but I sensed a hard frustration in her.

Rachelle hobbled closer, before pausing to rest on her cane. She looked furious, like a dark, thundering cloud looming quietly in the distance. “Archibald,” she said, “what have you done? What enemies have you brought here?”

“I have never met the man,” I said exasperatedly, “I have journeyed for a year, and there have been no sign of pursuit whatsoever! That this madman attacks me now, is terrible, terrible luck. Carmele…”

She held a hand up, lips pressed tightly together.

“No, Carmele, you cannot hold this against me, I could not have known…” I snapped the word stream short, and attempted another strategy, “I am sorry, he should have never come this close… I was simply… I was distracted. Engrossed,” I said meekly.

“A fine demon, you are,” Rachelle said drily, and then her lips curved, “the sorry kind.” She cackled.

“What…? Really?” I uttered angrily, before appealing to Carmele again, “please?”

“Not now, Archie, I am angry. Let’s talk again tomorrow,” she pressed out in an ice-cold voice, before leaving for her house in a brisk step, leaving me in her wake. She turned momentarily, “but do take us home. The night is not safe, it would seem.”

I scrambled after her,

“And carry me, please! With how strong you are,” the old crane urged, still cackling.

“I refuse,” I said immediately, but then Carmele gave me a look. She did not want to slow enough for the hobbling woman. “Really?” I let out miserably. “But I must watch for the madman. I must be ready,” I argued.

“Is he close?” Rachelle said, eyes narrow. “I don’t sense him at all, anymore.”

He was not. I was watching for him intently now. “No…” The old woman smiled, and Carmele waited impatiently.

I had smears of blood on my arm, but the old woman didn’t mind, and she duly leaned against my back and I piggy-backed her all the way back. “What a young, strong man you are,” she said and cackled again. I fumed. But I was irritated mostly at myself for missing an occasion to show nobility of spirit. I should have suggested to carry her myself, or at least readily and magnanimously agreed.

For perhaps there was a chance that what had sparked between Carmele and I was not dead.

“There,” Carmele said, “you can put her down now,” but I already had, and I stretched my back to enjoy the newfound freedom of movement.

“Why thank you, young man,” the witch said and cackled again. I smiled overbearingly, not even looking at her.

“Thank you for the night, I think we shall sleep quite soundly, after this,” the witch said as she hobbled inside.

“Yes, goodnight,” Carmele said, holding the door to her, and fixating me, “we too must continue our talk.”

“What?” I uttered, having not sensed this coming at all. Her mind was a murky, cloud of cold anger to me, yet there were many nuances to it that I could not quite understand.

The witch echoed my surprise. “Young woman, do not be foolish! The other one is out there and he has seen you with this one! Let them have their fight tonight, and we shall address all this in the morning!”

“Old woman, I bid you to keep your nose in your own affairs,” Carmele retorted with a furious glare before closing the door firmly. She hesitated and reopened it to slip in a few words: “And don’t you dare follow us.” Then she closed it again and took a deep breath, while fixating me.

I awaited her words cautiously.

“Are they safe?” She motioned for the ones inside, and I nodded slowly.

“I believe so.”

“Are we safe to walk?” She gestured to the city with her head, as her arms were crossed.

“He will not surprise me a second time,” I promised her. “He left town immediately, and I will know if he returns. We can walk, or if you want assured privacy, then my cellar is likely the safest place in town.”

She gave me a look. “We shall walk, give me your arm.” I gave it hesitantly. And then, like nothing had happened, we were walking side by side again, though she had me slightly unsettled. She took the word again: “now, was all that this Amero said the truth?” Her voice was cool and collected.

I thought back. “It was twisted and misleading… but the essence of it was.” I confessed reluctantly.

“Hm.” That made her think. I would have given my left arm to know of what. “Who was Fetinja?” She suddenly asked, unafraid and direct.

And there my heart leapt in horror. Of all things! To hear her lips utter that name seemed so wrong, so very wrong! “Fetinja was…” I swallowed, “my first love.”

“But you split.”

“Yes.”

“Is that why…? All the craziness?”

And my heart settled in my chest again, a weight lifted. She understood! “I was not of sound mind, I was… I had found a prize, a distraction, and I drew everyone into the fight. Perhaps an excuse to draw everyone together again, though I had sworn to leave them behind. Have you had a first love?”

Carmele smiled. “Not really, I think. I’ve had many infatuations.”

“Then you cannot know. I was positively empty, and I needed purpose. That’s how I found it.”

She shook her head, still smiling demurely. “You men. You must properly feel it, you know? And accept the heart’s sorrow. It’s not a bad thing, it’s a part of life, to feel all there is to feel. Even what is sad can be beautiful, don’t you think?”

I mulled it over. “I prefer gladness to sorrow, I must admit.”

She shook her head, “we shall reserve that discussion for another time. Now, on the note of gladness, I want you to smile.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Smile! Fully. Not that half-smile you usually make, without the teeth, show me really?” Damnation. But she didn’t look suspicious, or afraid. She was like a dutiful mother examining her child, home from the forest, for ticks. That child being me. When I was reluctant to oblige, she grabbed my lips despite my grumbling protests and tried to spread them, and found the fangs, and she passed a thumb over the right one. And of course… it was so sharp that it readily cut her skin up. She pulled her thumb back in surprise, before closely inspecting it. “What is that?” She inquired thoughtfully.

Beneath the sullenness, I was terrified. I dared not move my tongue, for fear that it would wash my mouth clean of her blood and that it would disgust her. “A side-effect of the disease, most definitely.” I said quickly, and grabbed her hands gently, lowering them to my elbow so that we might walk on.

“What a strange disease, it is,” she said meaningfully, watching me slyly.

“Yes indeed,” I breathed, looking everywhere but at her. Blast it! I could not navigate this at all! And suddenly she giggled, like a small girl, holding her hand up to her mouth. I stared, baffled.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, “I’m not laughing at you… it is simply that, you think yourself such a monster, when you are but a man. I see you, Archibald. I’m usually not wrong about these things, you should know.”

“Blast it,” I uttered, though a smile reluctantly shone through my face, “you have me by the neck.”

“Most assuredly,” she said, and laughed again, “and, you just spoke like the madman, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“’Blast it’.” She said, full of mirth. I smiled to her too. I was lightening up by the second. It was well past midnight now, but we continued to walk the town, playing back and forth, and she was of an excellent mood, suddenly, despite Amero’s ambush. There were not many hours to dawn when I saw her to her house’s footstep and laid a kiss on her hand with a deep bow.

“Thank you, for tonight,” she said, smiling honestly, though her eyes had red rims and she had a long day of work tomorrow. “Tomorrow, you may accompany me home again, if you can wait for me at Robert’s mansion.”

“With pleasure.”

“And then I would like you to tell me of that battle, really, and perhaps of Michael and Raymond also,” she said with serious curiosity. What a mind she had! Of course, she remembered. She had a way of subverting my expectations.

“I would love to,” I whispered, completely lost in the grey eyes, which seemed so deep to me now, hiding one wonder after the other.

The door closed, and the night became cold and dark and silent. Empty. I breathed out deeply, gathering myself in the old manner. I had an adversary, and I had preparations to make. Spells and rituals to study and prepare. Much to do in the remaining hours. Amero was a jeopardy to everything.