Abject in the Dust

Chapter 14 - First Contact

"This is a good choice." Rize smiled appreciatively.

"Don't get too excited. My choice had nothing to do with your faith?" Sam replied irritably.

"You had a choice and you chose an abandoned monastery. Does that not say something?"

"I chose it because it's deserted and with plenty of hiding places. I couldn't care less whether or not it is a holy place."

"Well, I thank you anyway." Rize replied with a warm smile.

"Whatever." Sam waved her hand dismissively as she tended to the fire; larger than usual, it provided a warmth not usually associated with their nights under the stars.

"Did you know that this place has been the scene of many a battle?" Rize asked as he settled aging bones and muscles into a more comfortable position.

Sam shrugged her shoulders in reply.

"There was a time when religion and politics were inextricably linked." Rize continued undeterred.

"You mean things are different now?" Sam sneered. Rize raised a questioning eyebrow and Sam returned quickly to stoking the fire.

"This place." Rize motioned to the aged stone walls; some in greater states of decay than others. "Was the scene of a particularly bloody conflict, when the church opposed the rule of King Vladislav, back in the medieval period – 1349 I believe?"

"Let me guess." Sam interjected sarcastically. "King Vladislav was a wicked ruler who sought to oppress innocent god-fearing people and the church stood valiantly against his tyranny?"

"You know the story then?" Rize replied with a wry smile. "No, no." He said more seriously. "That is not what happened. The actions of the church were not quite so noble."

"Really?" Sam asked with interest as she sat cross legged; satisfied that the fire no longer needed her undivided attention.

"Sometimes." Rize sighed softly. "We do things we think are right, but the passage of time shows us that we were wrong. And sometimes we do things which we know in our hearts are wrong, but we justify our actions to ourselves and others because we serve a noble cause."

"And which of those applied here? The battle I mean?" Sam asked.

"I think the first." Rize replied thoughtfully. "But perhaps it is both."

"Very helpful!" Sam said flippantly.

"Would you like me to tell you what happened?"

Sam sniffed. "Might as well. Beats listening to you spending another night muttering and chanting."

"I think you mean praying." Rize rebuked Sam gently.

"If you say so. But it sounds like muttering and chanting to me."

Rize would not allow himself to be drawn into Sam's argument. Albeit that any discussion with Sam was a welcome change to her usual closed nature. She had always been reserved and truculent, but since leaving the prison compound things had been different. She barely spoke, and she had not uttered a word since the incident in the cabin.

Rize had not needed to hear the sounds to know what was taking place in the bedroom down from where he led crouched on the floor, unable to move from the damage which had been inflicted upon his body. He knew exactly what was taking place. It was the same as had taken place too many times for him to count or want to remember; only the victim of that man's previous despicable crimes had been Lykke. A woman he cared for like a daughter. A woman who was stronger than him - more intelligent. A woman who did not need his protection. But that did not stop him from feeling that he had failed her in her time of need. And then there was Sam. A woman who could crush him physically and with an intellect not yet revealed, but the hints she had provided pointed to something beyond anything which he might hope for himself. A woman who seemingly needed nobody. A woman who had proven herself countless times as not needing his or anybody's protection. But that did not mean that he did not feel that he had also failed her in her time of need. Yet, there was still time. Time for redemption. Time to help them both heal; protection took many forms and was not constrained to some physical act in defence of another. In that respect, neither Lykke or Sam needed his protection, but that did not mean that his existence had no purpose – or that his line of questioning was random.