“Well, I have to get back. Maybe you go get some sleep. You don’t have to work that hard any way,” Oliver commented as he finished cleaning Lou’s kitchen and eyed the monk who was still at the table staring blindly ahead of himself and swaying in his seat.

Lou didn’t show any signs of having heard his guest, and so Oliver made his way over, and stood right in front of his line of sight.

“Oyy. Brother Lou?”

At last the monk blinked. “Right, goodbye.”

Oliver rolled his eyes, but proceeded to the door without making any further attempts to motivate the monk to go to bed. He wasn’t Lou’s mam.

After the door had closed behind Oliver, Lou gradually pushed himself up to a standing position, though he stumbled as exhaustion beckoned him toward the sweet whispers of sleep.

“Just… a few hours…” Lou mumbled to himself as he made his way over to the stairs up to his bed.

He knew he should go out and work more on his gardens, but he’d never done well when he was sleep deprived.

Stretching out into his bed, he briefly wondered if perhaps his anxiety riddled thoughts would keep him awake, but as the cool quiet of the loft embraced him, Lou found that sleep had been merely waiting for him to blink before claiming him.

*

Lou stared before himself, utterly confused.

There, in his chapel, stood a man donning a red and green shirt, a tall pointy hat with a bell sewn on its tip, brown trousers, and shoes with curled toes…

The man grinned and waved at him, his light blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Hello… who might you be?” Lou asked while taking a tentative step closer to the strange fellow.

“Well hello! I am Tivera! Splendid to meet you! Why, you don’t look at all like Reckish’s usual pick, perhaps he was serious about what he said to Heleka…”

“What did Reckish say to Heleka?” Lou’s gaze sharpened.

So he was right… something was amok with the war god, and whatever it was, he wasn’t telling his chosen priest whatever it was about.

“Ah, nothing nothing! I’ve already pushed my limits with ol’ Recky for at least a decade or two. I am here, dear priest, to wish you luck on your trials!” As Tivera spoke animatedly, the bell atop his head jangled.

Lou was only momentarily distracted by it as he processed the news.

“So… do I get a hint about what’s to come?” Lou asked glumly.

Tivera laughed and danced ridiculously around the disparaging monk. “I can’t go telling you my secrets! I just about never get to test a priest!”

Lou let out a long weary sigh. “Then… what is the point of even meeting…?”

“What a sad, man you are! You’d think meeting a god would warrant some excitement! Some levity! Shall I try to make you laugh, dear priest?”

The flat look Tevira got in response did little to dim the god’s mood.

“Hm, and here I was thinking Reckish had finally chosen someone who knew how to have a good time. No wonder Zeviras approved me giving the trial. Well… what do you do if I… were to say, do this!” The god’s hands shot out, and under Lou’s arms, his fingers wriggling.

The monk merely frowned and backed away from his touch. “I’m not ticklish.”

“Oof. Well there goes one of my most winning tricks… Now I’m the one who’s sad…”

Tivera turned away from Lou, and with his head hung down low, he ambled closer to the stained glass window.

The familiar glowing light that Lou knew would consume his vision and take him back to reality began to ebb into his vision.

He nodded to himself… he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with the god of performers and jesters…

“Oh, by the way, Mr. Priest,” Tevira whirled around on the ball of his left foot, his arms thrown out delightedly. “Because you decided to be such a spoil sport, I guess I’ll tell you the point of this meeting after all!”

Lou frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but the god wagged his finger in the air while shaking his head theatrically.

“You see… this meeting was to help me design exactly the kind of trials I’m going to be giving you. Reckish’s priests are always so serious, and prideful… but you… oh this will be fun, priest! Ta, ta for now!”

Lou felt his eyes widen in horror, and then…

They were shut, and he could feel the chilled air, and smell the pine trees once more.

Turning over, Lou made the decision right then and there that he wouldn’t get out of bed that day.

Instead, he would lay there, and avoid the world entirely.

He wanted everything to just be a terrible nightmare…

Eventually, Lou fell back into a deep sleep. Luckily, there were no gods to torment him during his second attempt, nor did he have any dreams. He rested in his new, empty home, without any further interruptions.

*

When he at last opened his eyes again, Lou had no sense of how long he’d slept, though it did appear as though the sun was still out.

Laying in his bed, staring at the wooden beam above his bed, Lou let his mind drift idly through his thoughts, until an odd shuffling sound outside that kept repeating itself over and over reached his ears.

Frowning, the monk forced himself up and out of bed, down the stairs, and after quickly pulling his boots on, he stepped outside in the muggy heat, to find… Oliver.

What is he doing now?

Moving farther around the corner of the house, Lou didn’t make it very far before freezing in place.

Oliver Kelly… the thug that continuously had broken into his house in the morning to cook… had dug up three new garden beds for him.

As the Kelly son continued to churn the soil so that it was loose, Lou dumbly stared at his shirtless back, and noticed belatedly that Oliver’s shirt was draped over a nearby jagged stump.

His back was caked in sweat, and dirt… He didn’t have a pinch of fat anywhere on his body and-

A soft nudge at Lou’s shoulder had him yelping. Whirling around, he found his pony standing behind him, waiting expectantly for the monk to kindly step away from the water trough.

Backing away from his pony, Lou had just caught his breath once more, only to be startled once more when Oliver’s voice sounded behind him.

“Are you more sane now?”

Lou jumped again, his hand this time flying up to his chest as he stared up into Oliver’s jaded expression, his amber eyes unreadable as he stared down at the monk.

“Gods, I might be sane again, but I’ve lost two decades off my life thanks to you two,” he breathed while gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder toward his pony.

Olive raised an eyebrow. “What’s the animal’s name?”

Lou balked.

“He doesn’t have one.”

“Why?”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“It isn’t your business!” Lou snapped while stalking around Oliver who was standing too close…

“Is it because you’re terrible at naming things?”

Lou looked everywhere except Oliver.

How had he guessed so quickly?

“Want me to name him?”

The monk’s eyes flew back to Oliver. “Why? What name do you have for him?”

The eldest Kelly son stared at the pony, his right hand finding his hip as he tilted his head thoughtfully.

“He has an even, calm temperament, unlike his owner.”

“Hey!”

“I haven’t seen him eat any hay, only grass and apples. I can bring him a bale or two in a few days when my father isn’t using Otis.”

“Very funny,” Lou muttered.

Ignoring the monk’s grumblings, Oliver fell quiet as he stared at the animal, and the look in his eyes as they regarded the pony lost in thought, for whatever reason made Lou’s heart skip a beat…

“Baldwin.”

Lou blinked. “Baldwin? Shouldn’t he have a name that goes with Meow?”

Oliver cast the monk a wry side glance. “We are not naming a male horse Neighly. Or something crackpot like that.”

“‘We’?” Lou asked, an odd flush in his stomach and an urge to smile, throwing the monk for a loop.

Oliver cleared his throat and looked away. “You really aren’t cut out for manual work. I finished three of your garden beds. Your plan to have them tiered was good. It’ll help make your water use more efficient.”

“Oh, thank you. I-”

“I have to get back to the farm. It’s almost time for dinner.”

Oliver stalked off, not bothering to look at Lou again. He snatched his shirt from the tree stump, and continued up the hill until out of sight.

The monk watched him leave, his thoughts for once quiet as words and feelings brewed in his throat.

He looked back at his pony who was still drinking from the trough, letting out the occasional snort as he did so.

“Baldwin,” Lou called out.

He watched as the pony’s ears twisted toward him.

Smiling, the monk was forced to acquiesce that maybe Oliver Kelly had chosen a perfect name for his pony. Then when he looked up at the three tiers of freshly dug garden beds, with three stone retaining walls already built, also admitted that maybe the thug was more decent than he had originally thought…

***

Oliver returned home, his insides feeling like they were burning.

He might not be the same as me… I shouldn’t be going over there so much.

He thought to himself with a small head shake.

Then he remembered how Lou looked earlier that day.

Broken… alone… exhausted down to the very core of his being…

Oliver let out a grunt. “He’s a grown ass man. He’ll sort himself out.”

Throwing open the front door to his house, Oliver stopped dead in his tracks when he found his father sitting at the kitchen table, his hands folded together.

“We need to talk.”

His face settling back into its mask of steeliness, Oliver took his time closing the door behind himself and removing his boots before joining his father.

“Where are mum and the rugrats?”

“They are having a fire outside.”

Oliver slowly pulled out the chair beside his father and lowered himself down.

“There’s news that Cadfael is making his way toward Oxby.”

His face draining of color, Lou’s face flashed in Oliver’s mind.

“The hero? The descendent of the last priest of Reckish?”

“Aye.”

“I thought he was handling the rebels farther in the east?”

“Well… he’s caught wind about Tegid,” Patrick Kelly’s blue eyes gleamed dangerously in the firelight.

“Shit,” Oliver breathed, his hand coming up to rub his eyes then push his hand through his hair.

“You need to go warn Tegid not to attack until after the hero leaves. He won’t be happy, but with any luck by the fall… we’ll frighten these new godsdamn residents out of our town and back to where they came from,” Patrick growled while leaning back in his seat.

Oliver’s hand lowered to the table. “When should I go?”

“Tonight. Now.”

“But the farm-”

“You’re barely home these days anyway. You need to stop visiting the monk and pick a good Oxby wife when this is all done if you have so much time on your hands.”

Oliver didn’t say anything to that, but his father didn’t seem to care.

“What will you tell people during the two weeks I’m gone?”

Patrick snorted. “Who’ll be asking?”

“Benny might.”

At this the Patrick’s self-assurance faded as he nodded in agreement. “Aye. Was forgetting about the Mistlebay family… Pity they didn’t have a daughter for you.” The patriarch sighed with a forlorn shake of his head. “Guess that’ll be what I tell people. You’ve gone to find a wife from one of the other towns. Then after we chase out those newdies you can go and take the search seriously.”

Biting his tongue and keeping his gaze fixed on the table in front of him, Oliver nodded.

“There’s a good lad. Now, I saddled Otis for you and your mam’s wrapped a sandwich for the trip. Make sure you say your goodbye’s to her and your brothers and sisters or my ears will be ringing until you get back.”

Patrick Kelly stood with a stretch.

Oliver on the other hand hesitated.

Was it really a good idea to leave when Lou’s trials were starting…? What if something happened to the monk? Or to the town?

His hands curled into fists, but then his father clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“I know it’s a tough thing to ride at night, but you’ve the sharpest eye I’ve ever seen.”

Snapping out of his spiraling thoughts, Oliver stood and gave a tight smile to his father before Patrick once again patted his son’s shoulder, and sent him on his way.

He’s a priest of Reckish. He’ll be fine… besides… maybe meeting Cadfael will help him steady him.

As Oliver strode back into the dying light of the day to find the rest of his family members, he did his best to convince himself that the trip would be just what he needed to clear his head. After all, the only reason he spent so much time with the monk was he had a quiet house, and it wasn’t every day he could witness a priest of the gods come into their power…

Exactly. He’s interesting, but that’s all. I’ll go see Tegid, and by the time I get back the farm will be in a state. I don’t have time to waste on Brother Lou. None at all.