|
Waking up in his bedroom, Paul whimpered painfully. All his bones hurt under his skin. He put his hands to his chest. He shivered in the clean cotton day shirt, and the breeches he was in. New stockings were on his calves. His body smelled all creamy of soap.
He put one leg out of bed, a dart of pain hit him right in the stomach. He felt like the whole world was floating on a boat. Stumbling out of the bed, Paul made his way purposefully to his brother's study.
At his desk was Louis working on his ledgers. He was holding tightly enough to his quill to break it in half. His face was all tight in a fearsome frown. "You slept all day. Sit down Paul," Louis said wearily without a glance his way.
Shakily taking a seat, Paul said in a small voice, "Louis, I hear the voices of saints."
"How were the marks made on your chest, your legs?" Louis cried throwing the quill down. "Why is your face battered?"
"You're not listening to me. Louis I hear the voices of Saint Catherine, of Saint Michael. Louis I, I see angels, and the devil. Louis the devil has become more powerful than God, more strong than the angels."
"You did not hear voices," Louis said angrily, slamming his fist on the desk, worried about his brother, "Your so called voices are the result of a foolish child making himself to be sick. You have made yourself have a break down with your over zealousness. I forbid you to go to the oratory. It was my folly to indulge you in your desire to be a priest. It's gone to far."
"Louis, I am not ill. I hear voices, I, please Louis. I want to go to out west. I want to convert Indians to our faith up in Canada like Father Isaac Jogues. Louis, Jamie wants to go with me. Jamie is as devout as I am. Non, don't shake your head, he is! Last night Jamie had a desperate fall from grace but he's back. He, he may have some doubts, but I know in time Jamie will be absolutely one who will be unwavering in his believes in our Christian God. Jamie, he's, he's a fine person, he deserves his freedom Louis so the both of us can join the Society of Jesus up in Canada. For the sake of God, for my sake, Louis please free Jamie."
"Is this what your voices told you to do free Jamie and go to Canada?" Louis said dryly, now starting to get really furious.
Paul looked away, "Non," he said in a small voice.
"I thought so. The Iroquois not only tortured Father Isaac they also killed the man. The man Paul, he was a man who made his choice after he lived long enough to acquire an education. He was not an impressionable romantic child imagining himself going out in the wilderness to be received by a grateful people. A people who frankly did not want Father Isaac or anyone else like him in their midst. The tribes out there want to be left alone. You would not last one day up in Canada! I will not have you getting yourself killed!"
"Louis, listen to me please. I think the reason why the devil has become stronger than God is because of men such as Hume. Men who teach miracles are impossible because miracles violate nature. These men have turned us from God. God is injured by these men! Louis, I see and hear miracles. Men are becoming more atheistic thanks to Voltaire, Rousseau, and De Sade. They have no idea about the truths I have seen. I know such a thing as an interfering God and devil exist for I have been interferred with."
"You have interfered with yourself, your health, and your emotional well being with your superstitions," Louis said firmly, getting out of his chair.
"I have to, we have to, brother, to save my life you have to sell Pointe du Lac."
"What you are asking is the same thing as asking me to sell our father," Louis cried in disbelief. "Paul, this is papa's plantation given to us from him.!"
"Father is dead. I've very much alive," Paul pleaded frantically, "If not Canada then let it be Paris. Louis, my life is in danger. You have to give our slaves their freedom. I beg you. You, mamma our sister have to come with me and Jamie to France."
"Jamie?" Louis said cryptically, "Did Jamie put those burn marks on your chest? This idea of yours. Freeing the slaves, selling the plantation, this is all Jamie's doing. Isn't it? You are doing nothing but parroting Jamie's words. He's taken advantage of your youth and your fanciful mind for his own sake, not God's!"
"Non, Jamie would never hurt me," Paul said desperately, "Mamma will agree with me, Louis. Please. Louis the devil is here, right here, and he hates us. For the sake of our souls, our lives we must leave Pointe du Lac behind us. Or we l may all die!"
"What are you guilty about?" Louis said caustically.
"Guilty?" Paul gasped.
"Why should the devil go out of his way to pick on you? What have you done to make yourself believe you are so evil the devil has designs on you? What sin are you seeking to do penance for by becoming a missionary in France? I know Paul, I know."
"I, Jamie and I," Paul said confused, wringing his hand, "We haven't committed any sin." He blushed remembering the devil's words that Jamie had put a spell on him. Pushing the traitorous thought aside he repeated, "We haven't done anything wrong."
He couldn't look his brother in the face. Louis put his hand on Paul's shoulder while Paul started to cry.
"I know you and he have been sleeping together."
"Non," Paul whispered.
"Don't lie to me Paul, and now the guilt, it tortures you. Paul you have nothing to feel guilty for. All of that which has been written in scripture is a lie. There is no God which lays out social sins for us. No God to cower in fear under. It is in your nature to want to sleep with Jamie. Your nature doesn't lie to you."
"If you won't help me. If you won't sell Pointe du Lac, I will go to France on my own. Jamie has nothing to do with why I inflected burns on myself! Jamie will come with me," Paul said determinedly. "Where is Jamie?"
"Jamie will not come with you. He belongs to this house. You're a fifteen year old boy. You are not going any where. I will lock you up in your room till your mind becomes reasonable," Louis cried , his face turning pale with worry, and regret "Jamie doesn't love you. I told Jamie to seduce you."
"You told him?"
"You decided to become a priest before you even tried life out," Louis said softly, pleading with Paul to understand his motives, "You were not acting like a boy who wanted to be a true priest Not as I understand priest to be. You didn't serve the poor. You kept telling me you were not ready to leave Pointe du Lac to go to the seminary. You were become little more than some medieval mystical hermit. It wasn't healthy. I told Jamie if he could get you out of the oratory into the world I would give him his freedom."
"Jamie?" Paul said helplessly.
"Has been little more that a prostitute in all of this the whole time," Louis said, squeezing Paul's shoulder, "This is my fault. The world is a wicked place. And men have been known to be wicked. I am a man, Paul. I guess Jamie once he knew he failed and he could not persuade you to spend less time in prayer in the oratory, he decided to come up with this scheme to have you plead on his behalf for his freedom. Jamie has been wicked to use your illness to get what he really wanted all along. He was supposed to help you, not encourage you in your mistaken and harmful beliefs. Please brother let me help you. I'll hire a tutor to take you aboard. You will go to Rome, Pais, Germany, Venice. All of this is me fault. I thought after experiencing what it was like to be with another boy you would want to try out more of what the world has to offer to an intelligent beautiful boy like yourself. You deserve to see all of which is beautiful, true and wise in this world. Reality will wean you from your fantasies."
"How can I see what is beautiful in this world when I will soon be out of it? Louis, Jamie and I are going to die," Paul pleaded.
"Don't talk such madness," Louis said gently.
"Jamie loves me. You'll lying to me about Jamie."
"Jamie was my tool to induce you out of your illness. And even if it were possible that Jamie loved you," Louis said guiltily, his eyes downcast. "How can you imagine yourself really in love with Jamie?"
"How can I imagine myself not in love with Jamie!" Louis, please listen to me," Paul begged.
"Non, Paul, I will loan him out to the Freniere. Jamie will work on his plantation. You will have forgotten him once you have made your grand tour of Europe. Jamie has done nothing but contribute to you being morbid. It is necessary for you to be separated from him before he does you any more harm. If you still want to enjoy Jamie's body when you come back. Enjoy him in a more practical manner. You can have him for your valet and use him as you please. Paul to think you love a man who is beneath you. A selfish, cunning, manipulative, childish savage!"
"You sound like father, Jamie is not what you are claiming him to be!" Paul cried. Pain in his side spread out like a rushing flash flood.
"When you are as experienced as our father was experienced you will understand these matters better. I have bumbled all of this brother. I so hoped after experiencing what life can be like when you are being held by another, you would seek someone else out. Someone who is more suitable for you. I can help you in this. I can introduce you to boys your age and with your taste, or to men who are much more handsomer and sophisticated than Jamie. Men who will be much better guides. Please forgive me."
Running out of the chair to the gallery, Paul turned on his brother.
"Louis," he cried. A strong wind was bearing down on him. In the storm was the beautiful Satan, laughing, mocking him.
"Don't," Paul screamed. "Leave me alone. Louis. Help. Help me someone!"
The sparse light in the room turned black, till there was nothing but blackness collapsing upon Paul.
Armand lifted Paul up in the air, moving so fast, blocking Louis' mind. Louis' terrified eyes couldn't see Armand.
Moving with the speed of a demon, Henri swooped down on Armand from where he was hiding, having watched everything from a window. Back handing Henri to fall back through the window he came from, Armand threw Paul down the gallery stairs. Flying towards Louis his eyes filled with passionate maliciousness, Armand readied himself to kill Louis also. Yanking Armand up by his shoulder, Lestat leaped with a captured Armand up on to the rafters of the ceiling.
Running down the stairs, Louis watched and heard the dull thuds Paul's body made till Paul landed.
Louis reached out to him, he knelt beside him, imploring Paul to wake up. His mother Marie pulled him off of her youngest son. She slapped at Paul's face, screaming at Yvette to get a cold rag for her son had fainted.
"Louis don't, Louis don't," she said tearfully, trying to wake up her son, "Louis what have you done? Why? Why did Paul yell Louis don't? What have you done?" She drew back away from Louis in fear. The guilt on her eldest son's face was hideous to see. "Did you push him. Why was he screaming for help!"
"I killed him," Louis whispered, in both belief and disbelief, "Mother, I didn't mean to I swear. I think mother, I don't know. I might have killed him. I didn't push him!" His face burned. He dared not confess to his mother about Jamie. About Paul being afraid for their lives. He didn't want the last memory she had of her son Paul to be a memory filled with sordid scandals about him. "Yvette, send for a doctor," he whispered. Then he yelled, "A doctor."
"Why did you kill Paul?" Lestat cried in an angry voice too high for the mortals below them to hear them, "Why? His brother didn't believe him about seeing the devil."
"What's one less monk troubling the world? " Armand said coolly. "He knew about us. He knew too much. Why did you stop me from killing Louis? You're as great a fool as Heniri. Non, no one can rival my pathetic cousin Henri for stupidity. Ah, if Henri were not my cousin how I would have loved to have bricked him up in a niche in the catacombs. I would have made myself comfortable and listened to that fop's dying cries melding with the cries of the other weak one's of our race. If you cared so much for Paul, why didn't you stop me from killing him? You've been up here with me in the rafters. You knew what I intended to do."
"I happened so fast. I didn't think you would make good on your threat," Lestat said ashamed. "I thought you wouldn't go through with it."
"How little you know me for all that I know you love me," Armand said bitterly.
"Love you or not imp. I alone have the fate of Louis de Pointe du Lac in my hands. You shall leave your hands off of him," Lestat insisted.
"Choose his fate well," Armand scoffed, "For if Louis ends up being as crazed of a nuisance as his brother Paul was, I will be the one who chops his head off to feed to my fires."
"What makes you think I would not kill you for such a crime?" Lestat said coldly.
"Because my Prince," Armand whispered spitefully, "You do love me too well to harm me permanently."
"Never trust the durability of the love I have for you my murderous friend," Lestat said cuttingly, leaping out the window.
"I have no trust in you. I have only faith. And I know how much good having faith in anyone or anything has done me," Armand said sadly, following Lestat.
Henri looked through the French doors. He was standing outside on the verandah. He could see only bits and pieces of Paul. Too many people were blocking his view. Louis was holding on to Paul's hand. Louis didn't know what to say. Maire was praying with broken words. The slaves were gathered about curious to see Paul. Henri finally glimpsed a small smile on Paul's battered face.
Good bye angel, he heard a Paul's voice in his mind.
A tear slid down Henri's face. He remembered the boy of five, his vain boasts that he would be a Saint Francis who would convert the world. Paul's small head resting in the crock of his arm, as he read to him. The feeling of belonging to such a small life, the warmth he felt, if only for just that one memorable night was colored in gold in his mind. Ah Lestat, Armand, I hope you never love someone you're helpless to protect." Henri leaped down from the vendaugh The whole world felt like an accusation to him of what a failure he was. "Good bye beautiful one," Henri whispered
| 