In the crisp evening air, Martin helped the children back to their home. Andres offered his house for Martin to spend the night, but Martin politely declined. He was more interested in spending time with Indenuel.
He was also curious about Indenuel’s character. What Andres said about Lucia was concerning, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.
“High Elder Martin?” asked a small voice. Martin had been caught up in his thoughts so much that he missed when Matteo fell into step with him.
“You may just call me Martin, Matteo,” Martin said.
Matteo gave a tiny nod. “Isn’t there any way my sisters and I could come with you and Indenuel to the city? I don’t want to stay here.”
“I am sorry. Indenuel will be far too busy to keep an eye on three children. Not only that, but he needs to focus on his duties,” Martin said.
Matteo dropped eye contact. “I understand, sir.”
Martin watched him curiously. He didn’t know why he expected more of a fight from Matteo. “There must be something that is making you hesitant to stay here?” Fright flickered through Matteo’s eyes. The actions of the boy were beginning to worry him. “Matteo, what is going on?”
Matteo’s lower lip trembled. “It would be different if Indenuel was my actual brother, wouldn’t it? I could come if he was my real brother?” Matteo sighed, rubbing his eye. “I wish Indenuel was my brother. He treats me well. I just don’t want him to go.”
Martin frowned. “Andres and Lola will treat you like their own.”
Matteo said nothing before he ran to catch up with the twin girls. There was more to that boy’s thoughts. Martin was a stranger, so Matteo wouldn’t open up to him, but it was still concerning.
The children crossed through the door, and Martin followed. Indenuel was there, kneeling on the ground and smiling as he listened to the little girls talking quickly about Andres, Lola, and their large house. Indenuel’s smile wasn’t large, but there was no hiding the adoration he had for those two little girls.
The little girls talked about what their rooms looked like and how much fun they would have once their beds were in there. “It sounds like it will be one big adventure! Now, go get ready for bed, and don’t forget to say your evening prayers,” Indenuel said.
The girls giggled as they made their way to their room. Matteo stood there, tracing a circle on the dirty floor with his shoe. “Go get ready for bed, Matteo,” Indenuel said.
Matteo unfolded his arms and headed to Indenuel’s room. Martin watched, curious.
“We don’t have many rooms, but we keep the girls’ and the boys’ separate,” Indenuel said quietly. “It was my mother’s insistence.”
Indenuel must have taken Martin’s curious look as one of judgement. “Decency is vital, even between children.”
“My mother was very religious. I think it hurt that she couldn’t attend church every week. With the war and everything, the traveling ministers don’t always make it this far.” Indenuel ran a hand through his hair. “How were the children?”
“Fine. It might take some adjusting. Andres and Lola have some strong personalities.”
“Will the children be safe with them?” Indenuel asked.
“They should. Andres is a God-fearing man,” Martin said.
Indenuel gave a small smile. “A little too God-fearing, considering how quickly he assumed my mother was a witch.”
Martin looked again at the children’s rooms. “Who were Matteo’s parents?”
“His mother died a few years after he was born and his father blamed him for her death. When his father passed away in a farming accident, my mother took him in. Everyone thought he was a mute. Turns out he was just too terrified to speak. He still doesn’t talk about what his father did to him. My mother knew. His gift is late in manifesting because of it. The girls are both weather controllers. Matteo, we don’t know.”
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Martin nodded. “The stresses of life either bring out the best in us, or the worst.”
Indenuel dropped his gaze. “We don’t have much, High Elder Martin, but you are welcome to my bed. Should you wish for more privacy, Matteo and I can sleep out here in the main area.”
Martin watched him closely. “You and your mother each had a mattress, no?”
“We did.”
“What if I take your mother’s mattress and bring it to your room?” Martin asked.
Indenuel looked uncomfortable but did not meet his gaze. “Are you certain? You are a High Elder. You should sleep in a room by yourself.”
“Nonsense, I insist. Unless me using your mother’s bed gives you too much grief, I see no issue. I have some cleansing incense from my fellow High Elder, Navir, to keep any demons from your dreams,” Martin said.
Indenuel nodded. “Of course. Thank you, sir. My mother would consider it an honor if you’d sleep in her bed.” Indenuel paused, then his eyes went wide. “Not that I… I’d never imply…”
Martin let himself smile. “Of course not, my boy. I understood your meaning.” It was an opportunity to ask, to dig into the story behind the rumor of this supposed murder, but it was clear by the pain Indenuel was hardly able to hide that it would be inappropriate to push further. “I would ask you to be present while I do the cleansing, so the incense works on you too.”
“We… we don’t use much incense. We can’t really afford it.” His voice dropped away toward the end.
“It troubles me they would charge you for such incense. It should be free to speakers of the dead,” Martin said.
Indenuel paused. “My mother… and I never told…”
“Oh, you are right,” Martin said, frowning. “Forgive me.”
Indenuel gave a small bow. “Of course, High Elder Martin. The nightmares never happened much, anyway. I don’t think I have that much family on the other side who want to visit me.”
“I very much doubt that. I bet they simply didn’t know who you are,” Martin said.
“I guess so.”
Martin smiled before leaving the home for his carriage right outside. He heard movement inside the home as Indenuel situated the sleeping spaces. The incense was for Indenuel’s sake. Often bringing a belonging into the bed chamber opened the possibility of dreams from the owner of that object. If it was too soon after the death, a demon would come instead. Martin gathered the materials and entered the home again. Indenuel was in the process of moving the straw mattress into the boys’ room. Matteo had moved outside, waiting patiently. Martin couldn’t help but think about Matteo’s troubled past.
Indenuel placed the bed down and moved to the doorway as Martin lit the incense.
“Matteo, I need to talk to Indenuel about some personal matters. Could you wait in the main area?” Martin asked.
Matteo nodded and sat in the main living area. Indenuel paused before walking in the room and shutting the door. It would be a tight fit with three mattresses in the room, but Martin didn’t mind.
“We need to talk about what happened with Andres and the tree,” he said as he carried the burning incense around the room.
Indenuel bowed his head. “I’m sorry, sir. Sometimes it escapes me. I try to stop it, but I can’t. I shouldn’t have used the corruptive powers of tree speaking.”
Martin had his back to Indenuel, which made it easier to smile. It was clear he felt sorry about it. “Being the Warrior means you are a powerful individual. Both in the good powers and in the bad. Just because you used them accidentally doesn’t mean you sold your soul to the devil. But it does mean you need to do better to control yourself. They are corruptive for a reason.”
“Forgive me, High Elder Martin,” Indenuel said.
He gave a tiny shake of his head. “Just Martin.” He walked over to the corner of the room to make sure it got there. “And you are forgiven. My prayer is that you learn the lesson from this mistake, so you do not repeat it.”
Indenuel didn’t look at him. He still waited by the edge of the door frame, not daring to enter, hardly looking in the room. “You’re nothing like I expected a High Elder to act.”
The room began to smell of pine and lavender. Martin breathed it in. “And how did you expect a High Elder to act?”
Indenuel almost looked sad. “I don’t know.”
He blew on the incense one more time to give it a good glow. “Matteo is welcome to return, unless there is anything else you want to talk about.”
Indenuel paused. “No, sir. Nothing more. I’m sure Matteo is exhausted and wants to go to bed.”
Martin nodded. Indenuel opened the door, ushering Matteo in. He crept inside, already in his night clothes and settled into his mattress. Martin tried to figure out how he would say his evening prayers with no space to kneel.
“Matteo?” Indenuel asked. “Have you said your evening prayers yet?”
“No. Sorry,” he said quietly from his corner.
Indenuel shifted to a kneeling position on his mattress. It was unusual to kneel on the bed, but not forbidden.
“Would it be alright if you said it for all of us?” Martin asked.
The moonlight reflected off Matteo’s widening eyes. “Should… shouldn’t you say them? As High Elder?”
Martin clasped his hands together, smiling. “That’s only for the evening meal prayer. I don’t need to lead the evening prayer. Besides, I find the evening prayer is always the sweetest coming from a child.”
Matteo’s eyes were still wide, but he gave a small nod before kneeling himself, clasping his hands together. His voice trembled and was quiet, but Martin could hear every word. “May God look down on us in mercy, may He fill us with His light. May we remember He knows our journey, and may it be a comfort in the night.”
“God be with us,” Martin and Indenuel said.