The Duke fell back into my arms as his life fled. I left my blade in him to keep blood from pouring out, pulling him behind the altar. Chand stood there, eyes agog, managing to stammer out, “What are you doing?”
I continued to pull the Duke’s corpse, his weight preventing me from making speed. “Help me with him!” I commanded.
“Are you mad? Can you not hear the RedCrosse Knights butchering these fools?”
Of course I heard. Every scream and clash echoed through the high-ceilinged chapel. From under the Duke’s weight, my eyes must have made this clear for Chand added, “Drop him and let’s make haste away!”
I spit, “If he’s discovered as a part of this, her Ladyship and family will meet the Requiter’s ax.”
Chand stared at me as if I were mad. “She’s tied to the altar! They were going to – ” He recoiled from the Duke’s corpse as I dragged it toward him, clearly eyeing whether he still carried the monstrosity between his legs.
“That won’t matter!” I yelled, “They’ll blame the whole lot if they know he orchestrated this. Now help me!”
His eyes dodging to the tabernacle wall and the altar beyond it, I could see the hatred for her Ladyship burning in Chand’s heart. “So let her meet her fate.”
I glared at Chand, weighing him anew. “And her son? Will you let them murder the child as well?”
This freed Chand from his hostility. His eyes did dart down, making certain that whatever possessed the Duke had left his mortal flesh. I didn’t dare look, but whatever Chand saw must have been enough for him. He grabbed the corpse under its arms to help me.
A small door behind the reredos led to an opulent rectory, the room meant for a humble servant of God, instead gilded and draped in velvet. While holding up his end of the Duke, I believe Chand still found a way to palm a few valuables on our way out.
More importantly, the vicarage had another door that let out into a courtyard, not dissimilar to the one we entered by, complete with a tunnel that led onto the street. We pulled him into the center of this small terrace where I dropped him and removed my blade, causing blood to spill out in earnest onto the cobblestones. As it pooled darkly around him, I couldn’t help but smile. “There. Now the Redcrosse Knights will think the noble Duke of Glevum was murdered so his estate could be used for this heretical ritual. That will spare her Ladyship and her child from the Requiter’s ax.”
I turned my smile to Chand whose dark eyes practically glowed in the pale moonlight that pierced the Dunhill sky. “Then let us fly before the Redcrosse find us standing over the corpse!”
The voicing of this obvious concern roused me from my revery, and we both rushed into the tunnel. We bounced off its narrow walls and into each other, almost like boys blagging, rather than a pair fleeing from conspiracy and murder. I felt like we could fall into each others arms at any moment.
The Redcrosse Knights must have all been inside, for the street we stumbled out into was as empty as before when we entered. Or so I thought. Our roughhousing turned to laughter, spilling out into the street’s emptiness, catching the eye of a Blackcoat hidden in the fog. An, “Eh! You! Stop right there!” was as all the constable got out before we disappeared into the dark. We ran, our laughter trailing behind us.
We ran far and fast, until not even our laughter could catch us. We awayed from Knights Crossing, dodging down alleys and up Dunhill’s hills, and along the Tamesis. We ran along the docks, making our way through the ladybirds and sodomite sailors that roamed there, plying their trade or looking for forbidden companionship. We ran until Chand pulled me into an alley by the nape of my cloak, so strongly my hat nearly flew from my head.
Pushing me against one of the walls, Chand leaned back to peer out of the alley, searching for any pursuers. His manic smile returned to me, telling me we had none. “What was that?” he asked, the question encompassing the entire wild affair.
“The ritual in the chapel?” I asked, unsure of how to answer such a broad question. I was unable to take my eyes from him as I felt his hot breath on my pale face. He nodded, his brown eyes looking into mine. For the first time, I didn’t turn away, letting him see the infatuation in which I studied him. Unwilling to let the moment pass, I answered his question with another, “What is the first rule of the Church?”
Chand blinked, the concrete question giving him pause. As if I were trying to trick him, he cornered me by putting a hand against the brick wall of the alley on either side of my head. “Thou shall have no other gods before me.”
“Exactly.” I smiled, burning at his proximity. “Such a pronouncement does not forbid the existence of other gods.”
“What was that thing the Duke became?”
“I know not, but from the words I could understand, I would wager they tried to bring something into this world from another. I suspect Lord Guillem’s good fortune in life may have been attributable to such an agreement.”
“Well,” for the first time, Chand broke his gaze from mine as I stared at him. “At least there’s a few less devil-worshippers in the world.”
“Perhaps we can figure out a way to move to robbing nobles rather than molly houses,” I smiled at him, his sudden uncertainty emboldening me. “It would certainly be more profitable.”
“Certainly. And more dangerous.” Glancing towards the alley entrance again, a ghost of fear crossed Chand’s face. “You’re certain he’s dead?”
“Yes. And soon we shall receive payment from her Ladyship.” With Chand’s hands on either side of me, I dared slide mine under his cloak and onto his hips.
My hands drew his attention back to me. He pulled himself up to his full height, taking a hand from the wall to remove my hat. “I’ll take my reward now I think,” he whispered and leaned forward, his lips slightly parted.
I had never kissed anyone before. Not in this manner. I had lost anything resembling purity long ago and never felt myself worthy of such a gentle offer. Even with the stubble on his chin, it was softer than I expected. Chand leaned into me, his lips covering my own until his tongue moved into my mouth. That was wholly unfamiliar, sweet, and awakening in a way that made me yearn for him like I didn’t know was possible.
After what felt like a sweet eternity, Chand pulled away from me, leaning over me from his greater height, one hand back on the wall as the other reached up to caress my cheek. “I knew you were that kind of boy.”
That phrase, almost exactly as my uncle had uttered to me my first night in McDowell Hall, skinny, frightened and naked, snuffed out my yearning and desire. My eyes must have gone cold, for Chand’s disposition changed, becoming wary. “Look, mate – ”
I found this reversal to be even more provoking, slapping his hand away and snatching my hat back from him. “I’m a man!” I pronounced loudly, feeling my voice did not sound much like one as it cracked. Stuffing the hat back on my head, I felt the flush leave my skin, my pale flesh cooling from hot desire to a cold anger that asphyxiated thought. I pushed Chand away, surprising him with my strength and force, knocking him onto his backside, landing roughly on the hard alley ground.
He looked at me in hurt and surprise, and I found this angered me even more, the vulnerability in him making me hate my own shame. I wanted to say something, something defiant and angry, or at least something that made sense, but my lips were sealed. Unable to control whatever had seized my soul, I stomped out of the alley. I could feel Chand’s gaze following me. He said nothing more, though, and did not follow.
I roamed Dunhill until dawn, unable to shake myself free of the emotions warring inside me. I had wanted what Chand had freely given, even teased it out of him, and yet I was walking alone, cold, hungry, my feet attacking the cobblestones with each heel-strike. I did this for many hours before I began to feel the presence of my uncle in every gas lamp shadow and the dark of every portico. This only grew until I turned to one, convinced I would find him there, naked and waiting for me, with the Duke’s snake reaching out for me from between his legs, pulling me to his putrid flesh.
When there was nothing there but a shadow and my uncle continued to be dead, it was only then that I realized he had nothing to do with my desire for Chand. But he had ensured that I could not feel the touch of others without his stain. My anger became shame at how I had treated Chand. Finding him in the crushing crowds that rose with the dawn of Dunhill would be impossible, making me feel infinitesimal as the mills of the city ground on.
The air was clear enough that when I returned to McDowell Hall hours later that I could see Inspector Rotella outside it. I dodged in through one the side entrances, opening the front door for him from the inside.
Under the portico of my Hall he stared at me, no doubt fatigued and cross from being up all night. “Master McDowell, where have you been? I’ve been waiting for an answer for quite some time.”
“I was asleep,” I did not care if he believed me.
The inspector’s dark eyes did their job and appraised the state of my dress, the black of my cape unable to completely hide the sweat and coal dust. He did not press this matter, though, instead continuing with, “I have need to speak with your uncle, Master McDowell. The invitation that you say he received has opened a matter that demands answers from him.”
I stepped back, enough that the Inspector could step into the Hall if he wished. He did not move even when I answered, “Lord McDowell will not be returning. His actions have besmirched the family name to the extent that we have chosen to handle the matter internally.”
“We?” Rotella peered past me into the vast emptiness of the Hall. “There are others of you to make this decision?”
“No,” I answered plainly.
Rotella returned his eyes to me. His uncertainty at my discombobulated form and emotionally vacant state was clear. With Chand sitting on the alley’s cobblestones still in my mind, I would have stabbed Uncle Daman right in front of the Inspector if it would rid me of his ghost. Even if it meant meeting my end in the Requiter’s Square.
Whatever he found in my countenance caused his consternation at having waited so long to cool into a practical decision. He let me know this with the words, “You are either the most honest noble in all of Dunhill, or you can hold a candle to the Devil. I’m uncertain as to which.”
Remembering that I was still wearing it, I took off my hat, pulling my dark hair into a messy halo around my skull. “Perhaps when you decide, you can let me know.”
Another long stare from Rotella ended with, “Indeed.” Stepping back from my threshold, he continued, “Perhaps we will see each other again.” He paused, then added, “Lord McDowell.” I nodded and closed the door.
I was deep into my cups when an escorted coach bearing the Guillem heraldry arrived at McDowell Hall. Even before I stepped out into courtyard, yeoman were taking a lockbox from the carriage and placing near the gate house. I waited until they left before inspecting it. Aaron and Erin delighted to find the chest was filled with gold crowns.
Along with the many coins, there was a note. Judging by the handwriting, I surmised it belonged to Lady Pawlett. It simply read, “I know of others that may require your services.”
See the author’s published work here.
To read the previous chapter, go here.
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