Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Twenty-three

The bishop was sitting up when Selden visited that evening. Propped up, really, but he was awake and peaceful, though anxious to hear what the master saw in Rian.

“Good evening, Primus.”

“Come sit down,” the bishop told him. “Come sit close. I don’t think my voice will stay strong for very long.”

“We need not speak aloud. Why strain yourself, Excellency?”

“But I like talking.”

“Yes.”

“And call me Gereon, if you will, Pater.”

“You honor me, Gereon. My name is Selden.”

“I remember. You teach numbers. And now you are Rian’s defender.”

“Defender?”

“His gift is a danger... To himself, to others. He will need friends. And you have come.”

“I was sent.”

“And you arrived to greet the boy. And did you not invite him to know you?”

Selden nodded. “He and I are bound. But bound against my will.”

The bishop sighed. “Against your will.” It was almost a question.

“And bound with what, I can’t tell you. Truly. I almost struck him.”

“He’s a boy, Selden.”

“A boy such as this comes but once in a generation. Once in a lifetime.” Selden paused, but then spoke his mind, changing to Latin and speaking even more quietly at the side of this dying man. “If he is a boy.”

Gereon spoke slowly, weary with the strain, “He’s no demon... He has a pure heart... Test him... for he’ll test you... I assure you... Angelic, perhaps... but with no wings.” The bishop smiled. “He is just a boy.”

“You’re tiring.”

“Perhaps.”

“What can I do for you, Gereon?”

“Have you decided to bury me?”

“I have.” Selden took the bishop’s hand. “There is no rush. I can stay until I’m no longer needed.”

“But Rian will have need of you.”

“Then tell me more about the boy. Tell me without speech or you’ll exhaust yourself.”

“Our powers fail, Selden, though I’ve only lived up to my name in this last year.”

“God grant that we all grow as wise.”

“Not wise. Just old, though its weight is a good lesson. Gereon is a name for an old man, a name I will have forever.”

Selden was never slow, “So it shall be.” And he whispered, “I am Kinderring. Tell me about the boy.”

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