Page 62 of A Kingdom of Lies

I nodded, thankful to have something to do. It was impossible just sitting and watching as this stranger helped. Doing as he asked, I tugged at Duncan’s arms until he was sitting up, shoulders slumped as he leaned forward on himself.

His body was dense with muscle and stiff from cold. I wished I had the power over fire to warm him, so instead I opened myself up to my magic and encouraged the chill to leave his body and enter mine.

It was the least I could do.

The sting of strong spirits tickled my nose as the old man raised the cloth upwards and pressed it to the back of Duncan’s head. He held it there, mixing the strong concoction with the blood which had already dried within the strands of Duncan’s hair.

The old man sniffed, blinking back tears. “I am glad this wine has found its use. Never did like it, too strong and offensive. The sting alone should wake up dear Duncan here. It will help clean the area and fight off any infection. There is nothing stronger than the Creator’s blessed wine. Now, shall we discuss how this happened, my boy?” He spoke as though we were old friends, discussing mundane matters beside a fire with an ale in hand. “Starting with your name.”

Names where a powerful thing, I wasn’t about to go giving mine up until I knew his. “You first.” My voice was sharp – distrusting. The old man noticed, his smile an attempt to prove me wrong.

As if shaking himself from deep thoughts, he came to. “Abbot Nathanial, but you may call me by the latter as I trust you’re not a man of faith.”

“Nathanial,” I repeated carefully, as though his suggestion was a trick, and I was showing him great disrespect by ignoring his title. “How do you know Duncan?”

He looked back, a fatherly hand sweeping the strands of dark, blood-matted hair from Duncan’s face. A wave of what could have only been sadness creased his brows, making the lines of age more prominent around his eyes. “Many years ago, Duncan Rackley was a young boy who stayed here when he had nowhere else to go. Believe it or not, when I was younger and time was less painful, this church doubled as a housing facility for children without homes of their own. He was one of many who passed through these doors, and one I would never forget. And just as I had told him when he left, he would always find his way back. The most troubled ones always do.”

I looked back to the Hunter, body slumped over my hands as I held him from folding over. “He was an orphan?”

That was why Duncan knew this place existed.

“Indeed, he was. That very fact is the opening the cultists used to get their claws into him. And into him they did, deeper than his faith to the Creator ever reached.”

The Hand and his followers, that was who Nathanial spoke of when he mentioned cultists. I knew it without the need for further confirmation.

“Which leads me to a question for you. I have always hoped that Duncan would see the truth in their warped beliefs and return to me. But never did I imagine it would be in the arms of the verythingthat he holds such distaste for.”

“Do you mean hate?” I asked, arms as numb as my mind. “Believe me, I never saw myself in this situation either.”

“The world works in mysterious ways,” Nathanial said. “Moved by the will of the Creator. Whereas you would see this moment as the outcome of an incident, I like to believe it is merely the Creator walking you down a path without you even realising He holds your hand.”

A sour taste filled my mouth, making my jaw tighten. Now was not the time to say the wrong thing, but I was tired and my patience thin. “Apologies if this comes across as rude, but you are truly barking up the wrong tree.”

That made the abbot laugh aloud, the sudden sound surprising me. “Youarea peculiar one. How could I bark if I’m not a dog? If it is my chatter of the Creator that offends you, please do accept my sincerest apologies. I understand your kind hold belief for another but from years of my teachings and preachings, I say my god is truly ingrained within my daily language as though it’s no different from pleases and thank-yous.”

“I don’t follow a faith,” I whispered.But I do believe. In something at least. That much had been clear when Altar’s temple had crumbled around me when Erix had slain my father.

“How interesting,” he mused, smiling to himself. “You can lay him back down now. After morning mass, I shall venture into town in search of some better remedies. There will be all manner of herbs from apothecaries that will help aid Duncan in his healing, most of which I have not cared to house within my church since I do not get visitors for such physical ailments. Those who come knocking are usually in need of more spiritual healing, one that herbs and weeds are useless for. Now, until then, I shall keep our dear Duncan in my prayers tonight as I have since he left this place all those years ago.”

Before Duncan’s head had even hit the pillow, the abbot was standing.

“You are just going to leave?” I asked, paling at the idea of being left alone with no clue how to help him.

“What’s the matter? Duncan is sleeping, as you should be too. If there are any problems before dawn, you can simply call down for me.”

The abbot gave a final look down upon Duncan where he lay, his face softening as a thought overcame him. Then he walked towards me, waddling from side to side as his legs provided him discomfort with each step.

“House rules,” he said, voice deepening into a scorning, serious tone. “You do not leave this room unless permission is granted by me. Not everyone in Ayvbury will be happy knowing both a Hunter and a fey dwell beneath this roof.”

“I understand.” I nodded, swallowing what I truly wanted to say and replacing it with something gentler. “Thank you for your help.”

He waved off my thanks, large eyebrows wiggling in jest. “Just as the Creator’s arms are always open, so is my church, no matter the vagrant who comes knocking. Wait for me to return tomorrow, then we will organise for you both to get washed down and dressed before you offend the noses of the woodlice and mice who frequent this attic.”

I flinched as his hand found my head, resting it there so gently that it felt more like a whispered breeze. His touch was tender. If I had closed my eyes, it would have been no different to that of a father caressing his son; it instantly calmed me. “Bless you for seeing past his blackened heart to help him. I’m sure there is a story of how you have both found your way to my door and I look forward to hearing it.” He looked back to Duncan. “From both of you.”

I called after him as he took a step to leave. “My name,” I said. “Is Robin.”

Abbot Nathanial smiled, flashing neatly lined teeth, his face rounded and welcoming. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Robin. Even under such circumstances.”

---