Audinghen, France 1550
The fields were as green as Murder’s eyes. No one was looking as she picked berries for the evening meal, so she took the opportunity to frolic and waltz all across the meadow. She could turn and see the English Channel as she picked and plucked. Her lips were stained with the purple berry juice.
It was her fourteenth birthday tomorrow. Soon she would enter an arranged marriage with a young man from a larger, more powerful merchant family. Her parents were pleased. She was much less so.
She wasn’t their real child, but they said Mother was barren, so when the strange woman left her at their home near the channel, she had graciously accepted both her and the gold the woman offered.
They had told her about this occurrence when she was ten. She never told them, but she had always known she was not theirs. She was already taller than both of them, and they were both darker complected and had brown hair and eyes.
She also had dreams. Dreams of her mother, a woman with deep red hair that looked brown when not directly in the sun. She had no idea what her name was, but in the dream, it looked as if she were a queen or an important lady of the court. She would stroke her copper hair and say the word murder as she smiled at her. She knew there was more to the statement, but she never saw it. In her mind, it was her name.
She heard a scream emanating from the channel. She saw someone splashing violently, trying to keep his head up. She ran towards the channel and down the steep stone steps to the shore. She’d fallen here once and had broken her arm. The pain was intense for only a few minutes, and by the time she’d gotten home, the arm was fully healed. She reached the bottom of the steps. The beautiful brown boy, now lying naked on the shore, looked up at her and half-smiled.
“You match the description I was given perfectly,” he said in English. Then he passed out.
Murder had pulled him a bit further inland so he could be drier when he woke. Why had this brave young soul sought her out? He stirred. She had sat and placed his head in her lap for his comfort. He looked up at her and smiled.
“Mother wasn’t wrong. You’re stunning. Your colorations are magnificent.”
Murder looked at him. His skin was medium brown like a wine barrel, his hair was as dark as oak bark, and his hazel eyes had a mossy green ring around his night sky irises. “I could certainly say the same for you. Where are you from, beautiful boy?”
He beamed at her. No one had called him beautiful before. Hey, you! Stop thief! Certainly, but beautiful? “I’m Levi, and I’m from a cave on the shore of the North Sea. I’ve only been alive for a few months. I have dreams of our mother, who sculpted me from clay and enchanted me to wake up just before your 14th birthday to be your companion and Protector, and to stop you from marrying a horrible man. Do you know what you are?” Murder looked at the steep stone stairs. He looked, too.
“You fell there?” She nodded yes. “And it healed quickly?” She looked at him now, eyes narrowing, as she wondered how it was possible for him to be made of clay.
“Yes, why is that?”
“You are of the Ageless, in your case a curse, by a rival of your mother.”
“Where is our mother?” she asked him, although she felt…no, feared the answer.
“Executed, I’m told. I’m sorry, Marie, Ms. Lavot.”
She frowned at the name her adoptive parents had chosen for her.
“In my dream, she... my mother, she calls me Murder.”
“She, maybe, was trying to warn you. To remind you of the only way you can die. A violent act that kills you before the healing time has passed. Cuts, scratches, broken bones…not a worry. Sword through the heart, beheading, and you will die. You will also stop aging when you are in your prime. We have a decade or so before that happens to both of us.”
“Murder is the only thing I know she said to me. It’s not a word you can use as a name in public, but in my heart, it is that. My name.”
“Pleased to meet you, Murder. Your mother gave me the surname Esmund. It means Protector. She told me that, as long as I am loyal to you and protect you to my best ability, I also cannot die.”
“I’m sorry, Levi.”
“Why? You’ve done me no ill.”
“That your fate is tied to mine as such. You are no servant to me. You’re my brother. My really gorgeous brother. Maybe we should say cousins?” She was clearly angling towards the idea of wedding him instead of the unknown rich boy.
“I’m humbled by all of those thoughts. Although I cannot fairly offer you romantic love. I, too, am drawn to males as companions. There’s a blonde boy in England somewhere who fed me bread when he saw how hungry I was. My romantic dreams are all of him.” Murder was definitely disappointed.
“We should find you some clothes before the theory of your immortality is tested. Running around naked with merchants’ daughters will get you killed even if you don’t find me attractive.”
“Aw don’t feel bad love, but I’ve already met the fate twice. On my way here. Once for stealing bread, and once for being a moor, although I know not what that means. Honestly, I don’t feel like I’ve gotten a bad deal on this. I cannot be touched by death or even starve, I return from any such transgression... even though I do still get hungry...And I don’t have to fear actually protecting you. I must only fear failure. Better attached to you than some shrew of a woman. Or worse, some fool boy with manly notions of hunting and war.”
Comments (0)
See all