FOREVER KNIGHTS: #13 Salvaging Souls
LUCIEN - My Truth

Wanted Man Tavern, Lighthouse Village, Isle of Wight

LUCIEN

Meralee Carter considered if Jeresine’s tale was true.

It is. Lucien watched from upstairs. Standing against the wall to see just the top of Mera’s head and Jeresine’s profile talking to her. Even from this vantage point, he saw the sincerity on the barmaid’s face.

Can’t she see it?

“Why would the old man lie to me?” Mera asked slowly.

Now that, I don’t know yet…But I will…

“Michaelmus? Who’s he to know? He doesn’t reside in Browning. I don’t even know who he is...and I know everyone here.” Jeresine gestured animatedly.

She does know everyone.

“Was Lucien Sabias one of these men you ‘knew’?” Mera asked acidly.

Not like that. Lucien frowned. No need to insult her.

Jeresine looked taken aback. “Only in me dreams, Me Lady.” She said in awe. “I can certain tell ye his attentions wouldna been spurned.” She giggled and covered her mouth. “He’s a fine strapping man, is he not?”

That I didn’t expect. He felt his cheeks heat knowing it was likely Meralee would reflexively disagree.

“Why are you telling me all this?” She snapped instead.

“Because I saw how ye talked to the fine Lord…and how he looked at ye. I didn’t want ye misled by that-that…Drunkard! Me Lord Lucien is a good ’un. He’s protected this village for centuries.”

Don’t tell her that. His mouth turned in a grimace.

“Centuries?” Mera gave her a skeptical look. “That’s impossible.”

Jeresine’s pretty green eyes were intent on Meralee. “He’s the authority here.” She toyed with her fingers. “That old man would ‘ave ye believin’ we’re afraid of Lord Lucien.”

“Are you?”

“Mayhap. But we respect ’im more. He’s cared for our families. He’s a legend ’ere. Beloved to all in Browning Village.”

Mera quirked a brow. “Are you certain he isn’t merely beloved to you?”

Oh, come now!

The barmaid’s jaw dropped, and she smiled slowly. “I’ve not had that pleasure, Me Lady. But given the opportunity I wouldna treat him as ye ’ave!” Jeresine shot back. Clearly done with Mera’s insults.

Well done, Jeresine.

Mera was outraged. “I should tell you how your beloved Lord has stranded me on this Isle!” She threatened. “What a ‘true’ gentleman Lucien really is.”

Jeresine glared at her. “He wouldna do that.”

Lucien blanched. Yes, I would. I did.

“He Lords over this weak village. And all of you allow it!” Mera said contemptuously.

Lucien was somewhat annoyed she’d treat sweet Jeresine that way. She’s a kind girl.

As he thought it he heard a door down the wall open and saw the old man they’d been discussing walk by. Pointedly not looking at Lucien as he passed behind him and went downstairs. Squinting blearily as he stumbled to a back table.

“Ye’re still here?” Jeresine came back by. Finding Meralee pausing near the door, hand on the handle.

What’s she thinking?

“I assure you I am not awaiting the attentions of your…Lord Lucien Sabias or his Fogdragon!”

Then why have you dallied so long before fleeing? He stepped to the railing and looked down on the empty tavern. Despite her vicious words she was slow to open the door.

Jeresine was passing the door with a tankard on a tray. Pausing to tilt and point at Old Michaelmus across the Wanted Man Tavern. “That man has never lived in Browning. He isn’t one of us. And he desires to fill ye mind wit’ lies. Careful wha’ ye believe. The Fogdragon is no evil.”

Mera studied Jeresine thoughtfully.

She’s listening, at least.

As Meralee started to slide through the opening of the door, Jeresine’s last comment weighed heavily. “If ye dunnot believe me,” Jeresine straightened. “Consider asking the villagers. Ye’ll replace I’m no’ the only one to tell ye he protects us. Ye’ll see...”

That may not be a bad idea.

Mera’s lip curled. She turned to close the door behind her but Michaelmus was walking toward it. So, she politely waited.

Lucien’s gaze narrowed on him. He’s following her apurpose.

Michaelmus hobbled awkwardly through.

They stepped into the evening chill, replaceing the day clouded over with a descending fog.

Michaelmus’ step was painfully slow. Drawing nearer the hitched horses.

Mera caught up to him, crossing her arms across her chest to ward off the chill. “Do you have a moment?”

Michaelmus nodded as he placed a kindly hand over one of hers. Leading her to the lingering shadow aside the tavern to evade intruding ears.

“Why do they call him the ‘Fogdragon’?”

The elderly man smiled at her. “The dark beast flies in mists such as this…” He gestured around them at the lowering fog.

Meralee’s face was written with skepticism and a hint of curiosity. “Is there truly a beast?”

Michaelmus nodded solemnly.

“Is he responsible for it?”

“No one knows the extent of his control. But any that cause issue in Browning disappears with the fog.”

“Why Browning?”

Michaelmus shot her a puzzled look. Opening his mouth but thinking better of it.

“Was it his sister?”

“That’s the rumor.” Michaelmus said solemnly.

“I don’t like that perhaps the barmaid knows more than you.”

“Why?”

She chewed her lip. “Do you think Lord Lucien is so vindictive?”

Michaelmus looked away briefly then grabbed her arm. Face almost shivering like he shook his head faster than she could perceive. Features distorting as his entire faced altered briefly before returning to their original position. Like Lucien’s had when she’d first met him in the crowded ballroom.

She blinked to focus. Expression baffled as her eyes flitted to the corner of the tavern. “He won’t be asleep much longer.”

Michaelmus’ voice interrupted her to urge. “You should go. Stay ahead of the mist!”

Mera thanked him. Heading for the horses.

The great mount they’d ridden to the Wanted Man was still tethered in-front. A glance over his high back verified no one had come out. He was well-fed and ready to go. Leaping atop him and vanishing into the fog.