"Even virtue followed beyond reason's rule
May stamp the just man knave, the sage a fool."
--Horace

"Dieu vous garde" ("God protect you")

he rest of my day was spent in doing chores and studying. I buried myself in both, trying hard not to think about the events of the previous night, and mostly succeeding. By nightfall and the vespers bell, I had managed to shake the pall of depression that had followed me all day, and felt that I had returned more or less to my former self.

After evening mass, I ate hungrily in the common room and listened abstractedly to the discussions of Nicolas and the other monks. The food here was quite good, and I was thankful that I had been able to retain my usual voracious appetite despite all my hardships. Nicolas ate in his usual birdlike manner, and I finished most of his meal as well. After a while, I leaned over to whisper in Nicolas' ear that I needed some air, and when he nodded impatiently went out into the chill night.

A heavy wind was blowing from the north, and from the smell of it, more rain was on the way soon-- not the light showers we had seen so far, but drenching rain like I had grown accustomed to in the mountains. I thought that this would be a welcome change from the freakish weather of the last month. I needed for something to be normal in my life, something to be as it was supposed to be. I felt out of balance, as if everything were part of some bizarre and unwelcome carnival.

I paced the darkened courtyard, staring up at the three-quarter moon being rapidly covered by ragged fragments of cloud, no doubt the advance guard of the approaching storm. I stretched my arms wide to the wind, feeling the icy air scour my body. I stood thus for a long time, until I felt that the air had cleansed me somewhat. I was beginning to shiver in my single robe and thin cloak, so I walked over to the far side of the yard and sat in the doorway of a darkened building, huddling. I had no desire for the wood smoke and meat smells, the elaborate discourses and strong admonishments of the common room; not when this place offered me the solace of watching nature undergo one of its miraculous changes. The wall of the building opposite me fell repeatedly from light into shadow and back to light again as clouds scudded across the moon. An occasional figure traversed the courtyard, always walking at a brisk pace against the cold, never seeing me huddled in the shadows. I enjoyed the feeling of power that this gave me, as if I were some dark predator, waiting, watching, invisible. The light continued to shift as the clouds changed density, became thicker. A soft glow now lit everything, but less starkly. Something electric could be felt in the air, and the wind lessened a little as if in anticipation. My expectation increased as well, for I recognized this feeling. There was some sort of magic in the air this night, and it had to do with more than the weather.

A sudden brilliant lightning flash turned everything in my sight to a bright azure, then all went dark. I held my breath. A few moments later, the heavens let pour a deluge of water. My elation grew by the moment. The lightning's current seemed to dance along every nerve of my body, and my skin grew hot all at once. I half expected the moisture to begin steaming from my cloak.

Just when I thought I could stand the sense of power and prescience that filled me no longer, a lone figure struggling through the courtyard against the storm caught my attention. This was no monk. The wind held the girl's dress tight against her body, and her hood was pulled down far over her face as she ducked her head under the onslaught of the storm.

The movements of the girl had the familiarity of a thousand daydreams, for I knew immediately that it was Isa. I called out her name, but she could not hear me over the rain and rumbling thunder. When she began to change course toward the street, I stepped out into the rain and intercepted her. Before I could say anything, she had stumbled into me.

"Oh! My apologies Brother, I..." She recognized me immediately when she looked up. "Alix!"

I took her arm and led her back to my doorway. "I was just enjoying the weather when I saw you walk by. What brings you out into a storm such as this?"

"Enjoying the... You are a strange one, aren't you?" I was grateful for the darkness as I felt myself blush. "I was on an errand when the storm hit. I am on my way back to my master's house now."

I stared stupidly, at a loss for words. Her skin glowed in the faint light, her dark eyes contrasting heavily against her face. Her hand was still on my arm where she had placed it as I led her to shelter, moving back and forth softly, stroking. The smell of anise and wet hair seemed to fill my mind with a warm fog, pleasant... "Isa..."

I wanted to tell her why we could not be lovers, of my vows, of the fallen priests of Avignon and how I despised them. She stared into my eyes; hers were black pools of stillness.

I tried to be resolute. I would not go against Nicolas' wishes, against the promise I had made him, more important than any holy vow. I opened my mouth again to speak, to explain why I could never do what every part of me screamed to. I took her by the shoulders. "Isa..."

It was useless. I had known it from the moment I recognized her. At that moment, she threw her arms around my neck and placed her mouth over mine. Any thoughts I had entertained a moment before were thrust from my mind as I kissed back, hard. Her lips were unbelievable soft. I recoiled for only an instant when her tongue entered my mouth, but it was pleasant and I returned the kiss in kind. Her body pressed up against mine, warm and inviting, in pleasant contrast to the cold which whipped around us. I felt myself stiffening and started to move away in embarrassment, but her hands moved down to my hips and pulled me back to her.

Isa dropped her head back slowly and gazed up into my eyes, smiling. "Come." She took my hand and pulled me along behind her. I stumbled along speechlessly, knowing what was coming next and entirely unable to control my thoughts. I hunched awkwardly as I moved, acutely aware of my erection, which was clearly outlined against my wet robe. I felt that I made both a ridiculous and grotesque sight, but Isa did not seem to notice. I realized that this was not the first time she had done something like this. I was surprised to find that this did not bother me; in fact, it heightened my excitement.

We walked in the lee of the yard's buildings until we arrived at a cobblestone street. A river of water was already flowing down the center of it, and we had to watch our step on the slick stones. We turned down a darkened alley, but Isa seemed to have no trouble negotiating the shadowy obstacles here. Finally, we ducked into a narrow doorway and I realized that we had arrived at the house of Dean Gascon. The door opened onto a darkened kitchen. It was very warm in here, and I could smell food recently cooked. But the evening meal must have been over, for the cleaned pots hung on the wall and no one seemed to be about.

"Isa, I don't think--"

"My master is gone. He will not return until morning. Trust me, I know his ways." She turned and walked toward the door in the opposite wall. I felt a knot of apprehension growing in my stomach. Was I doing the right thing? No, definitely not the right thing, but I was not altogether convinced about the wrongness of it, either. I did not feel as if I were committing a sin, though I was certain the abbot would have told me differently.

I shrugged and followed, sighing, "Well, it was His storm that brought us together."

The door opened into a small dining area with two other doors at the opposite end. We went through the rightmost of these, into a narrow corridor with several more doors leading from it. One of these opened onto a simply appointed bedroom.

When I smelled the distinctly feminine scent of the room, I hesitated again. This was all so bold, so blatantly against what I had been taught. Isa must have sensed that I was about to protest again, for just then she turned and embraced me again in a long kiss. I did not resist. I moved my mouth down her neck softly, tasting wet flesh, and ended by kissing the hollow of her neck. Isa threw her head back and moaned softly. She tasted of salt.

I felt as though I were about to explode. My body was doing things that it had never done before. I trembled all over in anticipation.

My hands moved up and down her body, exploring this new terrain avidly, testing each curve of her form. They moved up her stomach and grasped her round breasts almost of their own volition. I found the strings which tied her bodice closed and pulled. It fell open, exposing skin as white as a heretic's robes, and I moved my mouth down to the hardened nipples.

"Wait," said Isa. She pushed herself away and finished unlacing the bodice, then pulled off the dress to reveal her well rounded and young body. I started to move forward, but she placed her hand against my chest, smiling, and instructed me to remove my wet robe. I grinned stupidly and complied, also removing my sandals, then I rushed into her arms and the two of us fell onto the bed, Isa laughing.

It seemed to me that I was moving clumsily and hesitantly, but Isa did not seem to notice. She kissed my ear and nibbled on my shoulder, giggling a little when my hair tickled her, making little noises in the back of her throat when I hurt her or did something pleasureful. Our lovemaking became more relaxed as the two of us became more familiar with each other, then just when I thought I could stand no more waiting, Isa shifted her hips and guided me inside of her.

Instead of the hotly anticipated pleasure, a sudden feeling of cold pervaded my body and I shivered. Then a thought seemed to flash through my mind: You are here for a purpose. I froze in place, trembling heavily. The thought had not been my own; it was a voice in my mind, familiar and terrible.

"Alix, what is wrong?" said Isa, "Shhh... don't be afraid, I know you have not done this before. Here, move like this..." Something the girl did sent fire through my body once more, and I was able to drive thoughts of gods and demons and all else from my mind. I writhed in passion along with Isa, becoming more and more excited by her moans of pleasure, until at last I climaxed and collapsed in utter exhaustion.

The two of us lay like that for a long time, muttering little words to each other, me still inside of her, my face buried in her neck.

Some time later, I awoke with Isa asleep beside me. The same uneasy foreboding was still in the air, and I now knew that it had nothing to do with sins of the flesh. I had come to understand that the god did not care about such matters, except perhaps as leverage for producing guilt.

What He did want was open for conjecture. For all I knew, He had arranged the entire string of events that had brought me to this place on this night. The storm and Isa's errand, even our sudden uncontrollable passion might have been nothing more than a gambit.

I arose from the bed quietly and crossed to the wet robe laying in a heap on the floor. It was still heavily sodden, and ice cold. I spread it out on the room's one chair and donned instead the girl's woolen cloak, which was heavier and warmer despite it's equal wetness. If I was going to be a pawn, I would do so with what little dignity I could muster. Padding softly to the door, I eased it open and peered out into a deserted hallway. The only illumination was from the room behind me, so I left the door open and moved into the dining room. This and the rest of the house appeared to be empty. In the main room, the hearth glowed dully with reddened coals, vestiges of a fire that had burned here many hours before. I crossed to the room's one window and looked out.

The storm had ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving behind it a sky abundantly studded with stars. The fragmented moon had slipped just below the rooftops opposite and above, indicating that three hours had passed since I had left Nicolas. I wondered if the brother were still absorbed in conversation with the others, if he had even noticed how long I had been gone. If he had, would he look for me? I thought it quite possible that he knew just exactly where I was, but it was likely that this would keep the man away rather than bring him. He would not risk bringing me to the dean's attention in an unfavorable way. So, if Isa was correct about the movements of her master, I still had ample time to do whatever it was that I was supposed to.

I moved across the room to the stairway and ascended to the second floor, where, after a brief and silent reconnaissance proved that this level was also vacant, I once again found the secret entrance to Gascon's forbidden sanctum.

I no longer moved with any hesitation. Had Gascon been anywhere nearby, I felt certain that I would have known instantly. The power that was in the air tonight had the faint scent of destiny. I glanced out the window in the stairwell as I passed, taking note of the clarity that the rain had left in the air. It gave me a sense of perfection, as if the weather had been shaped to match my own elation. I knew that only part of this feeling came from the actions of those more powerful than I this night. Some, at least, flowed from the creature that slept sweetly in the room below. This power was mine alone, and I relished it.

I came up hard against the door at the top of the winding staircase. It was locked. This could not be right; everything was in my favor tonight, it had to be. The feeling of authority that filled me assured me that nothing could stand in my way. I rubbed my hand back and forth over the keyhole, probing the lock for some indication that it could be defeated. As I did so, the lock grew warmer to the touch, and before long I had to snatch my hand away to avoid being singed. Moments later, the door swung open a crack, and sucking my fingers, I shouldered it open and entered. The flint and steel were where they had been before, but it took some uneasy fumbling around in the dark before I located a candle.

I was not really prepared for what I saw in the light. Stretched out on one of the countertops was the body of a man... or at least what had once been a man. I hovered over the body in rapt horror, unable to avert my eyes, yet repulsed by the sight. His flesh had been pulled back to expose the muscles of one arm and one leg. His chest had been broken open along the sternum, and there was a gaping hole where his heart should have been. A cloying vapor rose from the body and made me want to retch, but I forced my rebellious stomach to relax and stepped away. Whatever I was supposed to find here, this was not it. I continued my search.

The odd, bearded head had this time been cloaked in a piece of black cloth, much to my relief. It had a blank, staring quality to it that made me nervous.

I studied the herbs upon the shelves. The jars were labeled in french and arranged in alphabetical order. Most of them had medicinal uses, such as blessed thistle and blue cohosh, useful in treating cramps of the bowels, stomach and womb; or mandrake, for gall bladder disorders; or yarrow for blood-poisoning. Some, like deadly nightshade, were useful as medicines, I knew, but could also be used quite effectively as poisons.

Indeed, other poisonous substances abounded in the next set of shelves, which contained various minerals, such as mercury, arsenic, powdered lead, sulfur, and even some gold in fragments that had been melted, then allowed to harden. Nearby vials were labeled as being powdered gems, such as emeralds, rubies, and amethysts. They reminded me of colored sugar I had seen merchants selling to children. I had heard that there were those among the wealthy whose physicians prescribed the taking of small doses of precious stones for a variety of ailments, from flux of the bowels to small-pox. I wondered if Lucien practiced medicine as a sideline, or if there were some alchemical use for such things.

Next, I came to the massive case of books. Here were literally hundreds of books on every subject, more varied literature than I had seen anywhere else. They were divided into several categories, like medicine, biology, minerology, herb-lore, languages, and philosophy. Other random selections were interspersed among these. Most of the books had a heavy patina of dust covering their tops, as if they were rarely, if ever, used. I was loath to disturb any of them for fear that Lucien may ascertain that his garret had been trespassed upon.

But turning from the shelf, I noticed that the table had a set of shelves built into one side of it, and here were books that appeared to be used more frequently. As I crossed the small room, my path took me across the bronze pentagram inlaid in the floor. Stepping into it gave me an uneasy feeling, and I moved as if prodded from behind until I had escaped to the other end.

I noticed immediately that the books contained here were distinctly different from the ones in the large bookcase. They were mostly older, and definitely more used. Also, they were mostly in a somewhat different form of Latin than that to which I was accustomed, or else they were in Greek. Some even appeared to be written in the languages of the east, with graceful characters which I wished fervently that I could read. Indeed, I was in awe of the man that could not only understand such tongues, but could read and perhaps even write them as well. My own struggles under the tutelage of Nicolas seemed feeble in the face of such accomplishment.

I picked out one book that seemed to be of more recent vintage, in a form of Latin that I could understand. It seemed to be some sort of guide to the creatures of the netherworld, such as succubi and demons. Its pages were lavishly illuminated with horrific images of creatures that I had only heard described up to now. Someone had scribbled notes in the margins, mostly concerning further details about the monsters not included in the text. Many of the words were unfamiliar to me, but the general feeling I got was that the scribbler had first-hand knowledge of the beasts, for some of the notes refuted what the book said.

I read on for a while, occasionally glancing around me as if I expected the shivering shadows cast by the candle to come alive and devour me on the spot. Finally, I slammed the cover of the book closed and placed it back where I had found it. As I did so, another book caught my attention. I had placed the one I had been reading on top of it, and had not noticed until now that it was handwritten in french, something very unusual to someone like me, who had only encountered books scribed in classic languages.

Picking it up, I realized that it must be some sort of journal, and I knew immediately: this was what I had been looking for.

The writing was familiar. It matched that of the labeled jars and the scribbling in the other book. Several months of entries filled about half of the pages. I carefully noted that the book was open to the last page with writing on it, then flipped back several pages and began reading: "12 December, 1346 "The demon aggravates me still. I have not yet found what he wants me to find. I am becoming very afraid that he will abandon me for another if I do not achieve this thing. But he gives me no clues and no quarter. This path is one trespass after another. Would that I could return to that time and undo what I have done. Some journeys are best not embarked upon."

I could make little sense of this macabre entry, but Lucien's allusion to a powerful "demon" sounded all too familiar. But what did the demon want him to do? Was he a pawn of some greater force, like me? He said that he feared losing someone, presumably the demon. If this were true, the man must be very powerful to risk such an alliance.

The "demon" was mentioned several times throughout the book. Much of it was filled with minute details about various experiments involving chemical compounds and distillations. Earlier pages concerned something called the "Panacaea," a word I did not recognize. Whatever it was, it was of great interest to him, for he mentioned it often.

A later entry caught my eye and I continued to read: "19 February, 1347 "A new instructor, Nicolas, came to visit last night. He is a quick man, and I am sure that he recognized some of my more obscure paraphernalia for what it is. Could he be a practitioner? He does not appear to have the proper amount of ambition. I must be careful of men such as he.

There is another as well, a boy, with less than a score of years in his face. Yet something about him speaks of [the next two words had been obliterated by some liquid]. He accidentally breathed a tincture that temporarily paralyzed him. When we moved to carry him upstairs, I looked into those staring eyes and saw that unmistakable gaze of the seer. This one will be either very dangerous to me, or very useful."

I closed the book convulsively, then opened it again, leaving it on the table in the way that I had found it. A sudden feeling of unearthly cold had seized my stomach, making me shudder. I decided it was time that I leave this place. I did not know if I had found anything that my...overlord would find useful, but I felt that I had taken enough risks for one night. Suddenly gone was the feeling of power and assurance that had filled me just a short while ago. I had never felt so vulnerable as now, in the aftermath of that potency. I hurried to the door and snuffed the candle, placing it carefully back in the sconce from which it had come. I was about to close the door behind me when it swung shut by itself. The slight hint of laughter at my back assured me that it was now locked.

I moved stealthily back to the room where Isa still slept and removed her cloak, exchanging it for my own. It was still quite wet, but it had warmed some by the low fire. I hesitated for a second before going to the bed, then bent and brushed my lips lightly over the girl's cheek. She made a soft sound but did not awaken. Her face was entirely in shadow, So that all I could see of her was a gently rounded shoulder, red in the light of the fire. I shook myself with a start when I realized that I had been gazing rapturously at the sight for the better part of a minute. I spun and exited the room quickly, without looking back.

I had just stepped out of the alley door into the night when a slight sound made me turn and look to my left. The dark shape of a man had detached itself from the shadows and was barrelling down upon me. Faster than thought, my hand shot up, palm outward, and caught my assailant in the middle of his face. The figure flew backward into the mud of the alley and moaned softly.

The night seemed oddly bright, but the moon had already disappeared. Though I could discern no colors, each shape stood out starkly and in clear detail. I regarded the figure, now sitting on the ground and rubbing his neck. It was the sullen boy that worked for Gascon, Philippe. A dark stream of blood was running from his nose, but he did not seem to notice as he stared up at me, apparently trying to get a good look at me. I was sure that he could not see me as well as I could see him.

I debated whether to speak. If I ran now, Phillippe might never get a clear look at me, and it would be assumed that he had foiled a burglary attempt on his master's home. But he had at least noticed the robe and tonsure of a lower-caste Franciscan monk, even in this poor light, and the resulting stir that this would create would certainly cause more problems for Isa and myself later. It did not take great wisdom to guess at what had occurred between the girl inside and a midnight visitor such as I, and men's minds tended toward answers involving sins of the flesh before any other.

The boy had started to get up. "Stay where you are; I won't hurt you."

Phillippe sat down again, then said, "And what's to say that I won't hurt you, given half the chance?" His voice quavered as he spoke, and I knew that the boy was truly frightened. The way I felt, I knew that there was good reason for Phillippe's fear. I was once again alive with power, and I felt that I could cause great damage to this child were I not careful. Surely he must sense this as well.

"Your loyalty to your master is commendable, boy. I will tell him of it when I see him." My voice rang with an authority that I knew I did not innately possess. I was glad for the darkness that cloaked my expression of surprise. "I think he will be most pleased by your bravery. Now, let me give you a hand up." I took care to keep my face hidden within the shadows of my cowl as I extended my hand to the lad and pulled him effortlessly to his feet. The boy was still peering wide-eyed into the gloom, trying to ascertain my identity.

"You were here... for my master? He told me nothing--"

"And do you expect a man such as Lucien to tell of his every move to his servant? Come, boy, you give yourself too much credit. Perhaps you would like to know a little more than is healthy? I am certain that your master would be interested to hear of your prying ways..." I let my voice trail off ominously. At the mention of Lucien's name, Phillippe's eyes shifted nervously back and forth, scanning the alley for listeners in the darkness. I felt sorry for the boy, and somewhat guilty at the ease with which I was achieving my deception, although I knew that I could not have done it without the power that was filling me now from... A brief chill reminded me that this was not a game.

The boy was shuddering now, muttering something about his discretion having never been questioned before, and he was only trying to protect the home of his master, and please, wouldn't the kind brother let him go and attend to his duties now? I released his arm, and the boy fell back a pace, thanked me, then turned to the door and was gone.

As soon as I was alone in the alley, I felt the power fall from me like a shroud from a corpse, and I was suddenly exhausted. I made my stumbling way back to the room over the courtyard and into my bed. By Nicolas' breathing, I could tell that he was awake, but no incisive questions floated across the darkness, and before long I had fallen into a dreamless sleep.


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