laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

"Take him to safety," the midwife stated as she handed the newborn boy to the priest under the shadow of the back door that opened to the pantry and kitchen. Lightning picked out the darkened robes as he looked up to her.

"What's his name?" he asked as the distant thunder shook the neighboring stables, sending the horses within into a panic.

"Alexander," she informed, then closed the door.

As the heavy bolt was slammed home, he descended the few steps and headed across the flagstoned yard to the front gate as he pulled his hood over his head to protect him from the heavy rain. Holding the young boy close, he moved to the sergeant standing within the shadow of the gatehouse, torch in hand.

"Good evening to you, father," the soldier stated as he pushed the small, inset door open and stepped aside.

"May Arhus bless you, my son," the priest stepped out into the main street that fronted the merchant district and headed to his awaiting horse and climbed into the saddle, taking great care not to harm his package. Things like this had happened many times during his tenure, but never to this house. He grabbed the reins of his horse and yanked to his left, then spurred his mount back towards the cathedral. Hoofbeats coupled with the pouring rain that fell mercilessly and Gaiven wondered if Arhus himself was crying for the separation of this newborn from his family.

Soon, he reached the gates of the large compound, walls rose around it to protect the graveyard and templar dormitory from onlookers and looters as he neared the main gate. Adorned with carved images of their deity's symbol, both opened to allow the priest entry as two templar stood aside.

"Another for training, my lord?" the veteran sergeant asked as his two guards closed the door behind the priest.

"Perhaps in time, Arhus will reveal his will for young Alexander," Gaiven stated as he guided the horse towards the stables, crossing the flagstone walkway bordered by manicured bushes and flowers and centered by a tall fountain. Towards the rightmost walkway, he rode to the awaiting stalls that bridged the large church from the dormitory, finally out of the weather as he reined in his steed and dismounted.

"Good evening, my lord," the stablehand greeted as he took the reins and guided the horse to his home, deep brown skin glistening from the downpour outside.

"Evening, Drystan." Gaiven hurried towards the church as Alexander whimpered in his arms. He pushed open the oaken barrier to the high ceilinged hallway and closed it behind him as sconces of oil filled bowls lit the gloomy, sandstone colored interior occasionally brightened by lightning. As he passed into the main sanctuary, he walked over towards the dais, covered in brilliant maroon carpet and bordered on the small ledge by thick padding that rounded to the dark wooden wall that separated the choir's seating area. He kneeled in the center of the central walkway that divided the benches in half and ended in the foyer behind him. Unwrapping the white blanket from the boy, he also brushed back his hood and then looked up between the choir loft and to the tall, rear windows, then lifted the boy upwards with both hands.

"Father, I give young Alexander into your guidance and into your service. Watch over him and guide him in the way that he should live. Find in him a life worthy of his name and his house, I beg you." He lowered his head and eyes in harmony with the boy in his hands and silently waited for an answer.

A chill along his back cooled the soaked clothing as a soft, female voice spoke into his ear. "He will be a valiant templar in the service of the church and will honor his mother's house. Teach him well, Gaiven."

"I will, I vow it," he stated proudly. He felt the familiar presence dissipate as he looked down into the deep blue eyes of his newest student and smiled. "Welcome home," he greeted, then rose and continued across the sanctuary, turned right and soon reached a door. Up a winding staircase, he eventually arrived in the nursery where he noticed the plump nurse step out into the doorway.

"What's his name, milord?" she asked as he handed the boy to her.

"Alexander."

"Strong name. Don't worry, I'll take great care of young Alexander," round cheeks smiled and she turned and closed the door behind her.

Gaiven stood for a moment and relaxed finally from the night's events. Vowing secrecy, he hoped that the gate's sergeant and midwife held to their promises they had made months ago. Tired, he turned back and descended the stair and headed towards the dormitory and his own room. Pushing the main door to the dormitory as he exited the stables, he noticed Edmund, his long time friend and fellow priest making his rounds.

"Are all the sconces full," Gaiven grinned.

"They are," Edmund answered professionally. "Much to my gladness and relief that my directions haven't gone ignored finally," he smiled. "How was your business this night?" he softened.

"Well," Gaiven nodded as he removed his riding cloak and shook the moisture from it onto the smooth, stone floor.

"And the mother?"

"I've been assured by the midwife that she'll be fine. She's young and vibrant, all she needs is rest."

Edmund nodded, his salt and pepper beard and tanned face accentuated the light blue eyes. "Is the young one ever to know?"

Gaiven shook his head as his brown eyes sunk, busy with the folding of his cloak. "If she deems to make it known to him in the future, she will. Otherwise, he is a son of Arhus." He grinned, then continued to his room. "Good night."

"Sleep well, milord," Edmund stated thoughtfully.