It was early evening, and the White Cliffs seemed to glow in the dimming light. Tall. Silent. Clean. Not at all welcoming. Gabrielle appeared next to me as we neared the pier, now dressed in a simple gown and cloak made of finely spun wool, all burgundy and gold.
"Will you now return to your Duke?" I asked, more from politeness than curiosity.
"Why do you ask such an obvious question?" she said in her cold, calm voice.
"All right," I said. "I have one that is more difficult. Why did you let our mother think you were not my sister? Why have you stayed silent from us? Seven years of silence."
"Six years."
"The king told our father..."
"The king's an idiot, like most men. He's fed some words and thinks he knows all he needs to know. He considers me nothing more than the wife to a duke. The very pious wife to a very powerful man."
"Pious? You?"
"Chapel every day. A missal in my hand. Even the nuns think I pray too much. Seeking a child to give to my most belovèd husband. Happily pitying me because I am what they call barren. They are too self-involved to see that I am in chapel for the solitude it brings me. There, I can think in peace. Plan."
"Plan?"
"Not a word to me on the journey, but now you're filled with questions?"
"I felt you wanted to be alone."
She eyed me then nodded. "You truly are too empathetic, still. But you are correct."
"More planning?"
"Of course." She cast me a look of near curiosity. "Have you any idea what I plan?"
I shrugged. "The only thing I know for certain is, it does not include me."
"I thought you more intelligent than that."
"You can say that after referring to me as an idiot, before the Oiym?"
"I did think you were. I've yet to be fully convinced you are not...but I am not so unaware of my own prejudices against you that I cannot see they may have colored my opinion."
"Careful, Gabrielle. That almost sounded like a compliment."
"Merely a reassessment."
She shifted to stand behind me, like she often had when I was a child. It always made me uncomfortable, before, because it was usually when she would pinch me or yank at my hair. This time? I only continued to watch the approaching cliffs.
"You still haven't told me why you dismissed our mother."
"You know! It was the same, for you."
I suppose it was. We were no longer her children but something apart, with no emotional attachment. Cutting it off merely made sense.
I sighed and said, "Of course."
The oars went up. The sail was dropped. The longboat drifted closer and closer to the pier, slow and easy as if coming home. The moment was almost magical in the dimming light.
"Léonidès," she finally asked, "has Nethys mentioned L'ange de Sange to you?" Her voice was truly hesitant, this time.
I turned to look at her, frowning. "That's what we are. Blood Angels."
She shook her head. "That title descends from the Germanic blutengel. The literal translation of L'ange de Sange from Norman to Saxon is The Angel of Blood. A subtle difference in syntax and meaning."
"So what does it mean?"
"I was hoping...since you are closer to Nethys than I...that you might have been told. She likes you. Not to the extent I initially claimed. More like a sister."
"Or mother?" I asked.
Another hesitation before she said, "I would not suggest that to her. She does still contain her vanity."
I nodded. "Have you asked the Oiym?"
She almost laughed. "You really did not pay attention to what happened in that gathering, did you?"
I sighed and leaned against the side of the hull. "I'm still catching up, in many ways. I suppose I am still a boy, to you."
"No," she said, her expression like ice. "Merely an enemy."
Then she was gone.
Straight back to court, I was sure. Leaving behind a comment that was ridiculous in the extreme. Me? An enemy of my own sister? It made no sense. While I appreciated her backing before the gathering, she was still very difficult to like.
Since the ship was to return to Alexandria in the morning, the moment she was gone, I shifted to the monastery and appeared between the pear trees...
And realized I had no real plan of action, other than to just show up. Tell Pious he's going to jail and losing his monks. None of which would endear you to his lack of heart.
The ground between the trees had grown over. It appeared to all that I was still buried. This could prove interesting.
I heard a cry from above. A man's howl of pain. Another Viking en route to Valhalla? No...it had been a month since I crawled from the ground. They would not have kept one for that length of time. Someone else was being fed upon.
At least, I thought that would be the case, but I really didn't know.
I stepped from between the trees to look up. A candle was flickering in a window.
So...I should just appear inside. Unlike vampires, I needed no invitation to enter the building. Then I could deliver the news and see what might happen in response as...
"Léonidès..."
It was Gregory's whisper.
I turned to him. He was beside one of the trees, wearing his light robe, his hood back and his lovely eyes wide with shock and awe.
"It worked?" he whispered. "It worked!"
His voice was growing louder so I clapped a hand over his mouth. Oh, the feeling of him next to me was like heaven on earth. The beauty of his neck. The gentle flow of his hair.
"Gregory," I whispered. "I want you all to see me, to appear before you all."
Greg moved my hand down to say, "But he'll know. He'll sense you and..."
"I did."
I sighed. Talk about a clumsy entrance. I had yet to learn how to dull the senses of other vampires. I released Gregory and turned to face...
Prior Pious.
Naked.
Blood trailing from his lips and a less-than-pleased expression on his face. He obviously had been interrupted in the middle of enjoying himself. Gathered behind him were Reyndahl, Stephane, Doric, Tellis and Loronce, all stunned.
"What worked, Gregory?" he asked, his voice tight.
"I...well, I..." Gregory started but...
I put up a hand to stop him. "No need to explain."
"Yes, there is, to me," Pious snarled.
"Why?" I snapped. "What can you do with that information? I am a Blood Angel, Prior, and..."
"Take him," the man snapped at the others. "Hold him."
They grabbed me. All five of them. Which did take me by surprise. One at each limb with Stephane's arm wrapped around my neck.
"Sorry, Léonidès," he murmured.
The others concurred, with their expressions. I knew they had no choice against the Prior's orders.
Then a thick wooden stake was in the Prior's hand, and he was saying, "You were not fed upon! I killed you, so you cannot be..."
"Oh, stop it!" I snapped back at him. "Then how is it possible for me to be here?
"Doesn't matter. You were dead! I will see to it you are, this time."
Gregory jolted and quickly said, "Prior, please, when I was taking pleasure with him..."
"Quiet," I barked.
This was all so damned irritating. I would really much rather have confronted Pious standing regally in my tunic and cape, heroic in the extreme as I grandly allowed him to leave for Alexandria, completely subdued and aware of my greatness and power. But if Pious was going to be difficult...
"Demandé," I said. It was the code word I'd been given by the Oiym to transfer control of the monks to myself.
Pious froze. He knew what this meant.
The others looked at me, confused.
Then released me. I almost dropped to the ground in a very undignified manner. Fortunately, Stephane was still behind me, so I only stumbled back against him and he propped me up.
By this point, they had all shifted to my side. My own pack of wolves protecting their leader, Gregory just behind my right shoulder.
"You are wanted in Alexandria, Prior," I said, my voice much calmer than I felt. "Did you really think destroying me would prevent that?"
He shrank a little and dropped the stake. "The Oiym know?"
"Yes," I said.
"But I checked the ground. I sensed nothing. I thought I had succeeded..."
"To state the obvious — you hadn't. They sensed what you did and Nethys came to protect me until I turned."
Then four men appeared behind him — the Oiym's guards, dressed in matching tunics and breastplates. Nice of them to finally show up.
I continued with, "There is a ship at Dover to transport you. Be on it. Do not make the Oiym have to seek you out. That will only worsen matters."
He drew himself up, proud and angry, again. "Were I to hide," he snarled, "I would not be found. I know their tricks!"
I had to roll my eyes at that. "My sister was there, when I met the Oiym. You drank her blood. We could track you, through her. Then I would have you returned to Alexandria by land. In chains you cannot break. Fed only with the blood from an ox. I hear it's not nearly as tasty as human."
"I...I would not drink it."
"You would if you're hungry enough. Your fate is sealed, Prior. Accept it and go. Doing this willingly might actually work in your favor, when you plead your case."
He hesitated then glared at Gregory. "You did this?"
I let my voice go cold and hard as I said, "You should thank him you're not about to be sealed up, forever. The fact that I am not still buried between these two trees is all that saves you."
He looked at all of the monks and almost whined, "So you back him, now."
Stephane shrugged and said, "We are bound to him."
"And he's a lot more fun," Doric said, his voice almost musical.
"At least, we hope he still is," said Tellis.
Seeing them draw closer to me gave Prior Pious the final push, and...
He was gone.
Which took the guards by surprise. They quickly followed, but something told me this was going to be quite a little chase.
They did not find him quickly, not before he had raided a company of soldiers who were encamped midway between York and the monastery. He left behind three ravaged, bloodless bodies to be found.
In the open!
Gabrielle had to help the guards catch him and handle that little problem. She then cajoled her Duke into sending out criers to warn that the plague had taken the soldiers so keep away from this area. Then she and two of the Blood Angel guards finished off the last of them, after which she had had arranged with her doúlos to burn their bodies. The other two returned to Alexandria with Prior Pious, and he was kept chained in his cabin the entire journey.
Of course, Gabrielle told me none of this; I learned about it through Nethys, three months later.
"That counted against him," she said. "Leaving evidence of us was a child's method of revenge."
"For how long is he sentenced?" I asked.
"A thousand years. He wept and begged, but he had to accept our verdict if he ever wanted to be set free."
We were seated at a table in the long hall of the monastery, illuminated by dozens of flickering candles that still could not cast out all the shadows. Gregory was with us, as we talked, seated to my right as if my guard.
Nethys must have liked him a great deal to let him listen in on Blood Angel business, considering his actions. But then, her manner was a great deal more casual during this visit. She even mentioned, "I sense your monks are much happier, now."
"Monks, no more," Gregory had courage enough to reply. "It was the Prior who kept us as such."
"So what are your plans?"
He hesitated, so I popped in with, "We still have time to decide."
Gregory added, "I...I suggested we move elsewhere. France, perhaps. More and more battles are breaking out, here, between the barons and the dukes and the kings...so damned many kings, all of a sudden...and Saxons are growing to hate Normans."
"All of which I am sure Gabrielle finds quite irritating," I said.
Nethys nodded. "She is not happy. Her Duke plans to attack a neighboring barony. She is quite opposed."
"She fears it will deplete his treasury."
"It will," said Gregory.
"Don't be surprised if he finds it already has been," I said. "By her."
Nethys glanced from him to me and back. "Still, Léonidès, sometimes it is good to begin again in a new land."
"I agree," I said.
She rose, her elegant dress and cape whispering around her, saying, "The Oiym will be pleased to hear this. You need not see one of us, again, unless needed."
Gregory and I got to our feet, then, "May I ask one more question?" drifted from me, despite my not intending to say another word. "What is the difference between Blood Angel and L'ange de Sange?"
There was just a hint of hesitation before Nethys said, "None. Both are ways of naming ourselves and mean the same. Why do you ask?"
"I was curious. The first name derived from the Germanic."
"Oh, it was long before that," she smiled. "When people stopped seeing us as gods, they had to have some label to attach to us. That is what developed. The French being the French, they had to have their own translation of it."
I chuckled. "Well, I can understand that, seeing as how my lineage is Norman."
She caressed my face, tenderly with her long, sharp nails, giving the message of both gentle care and definite warning as she said, "Your lineage is ours, Léonidès; you just happened to be born Norman."
And then she was gone.
Gregory embraced me from behind to nestle his head against my right shoulder, saying, "Why would anyone even consider the possibility of going against her?"
I reached back to caress his cheek with the tips of my fingers, whispering, "I wouldn't."
"You're a smart man, Léon."
I chuckled and turned to hold him close, saying, "Not as smart as you."
"Flattery will bring you anything you want, from me."
My chuckle became a laugh and I kissed him, long and gentle.
Happy that he was my Gregory, now.
Happy that all six monks were mine, each to be treasured in his own way.
But he was my favorite of the six, and always would be.
And for nine-hundred years, our existence was perfect.
Until Germany and France collapsed into a ridiculous war and damn near destroyed everything.
