Building From Ashes
Page 68
“Hugh,” Carwyn called again and stepped forward. The old man finally looked toward the door, and his eyes lit up.
“Father Carwyn!” he called, reaching up to switch on the hearing aid that had, apparently, been turned off. “I have to say that the benefits of hearing loss far outweigh the negatives when one is trying to finish writing letters. Why, just a quick switch of the batteries and I am plunged into a most pleasant silence, the likes of which not even Father Simon can disturb with his chattering.”
Father Hugh stood and ambled over to the hulking immortal. He wrapped spindly arms around Carwyn’s shoulders as they embraced.
Carwyn said, “It’s good to see you, my friend.”
“I think it may be one of the last times,” the priest said with cheer. “I feel my homecoming may be soon.”
The vampire smiled. “Now, Hugh. I think that’s a bit hard to—”
“No, no.” Hugh waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t spoil my excitement. I’m quite ready to exchange the earthly body for the celestial one, thank you. My walks around the garden are getting shorter and shorter, and I can hardly taste food anymore. It’s about time.” Father Hugh patted Carwyn’s shoulder and led them toward the low chairs that surrounded the fire in the sitting room.
“And you’d force me to bid good-bye to another friend when I’ve just said good-bye to Ioan?”
Carwyn was mostly joking. He’d known his old friend was failing for a few years. The signs and scents of impending death were evident. It would be a matter of months until Father Hugh went to his eternal home.
The priest looked up and smiled wistfully. “Surely God knew that I would be arriving shortly. Why else would he call my old friend Ioan to keep me company in eternity?”
The familiar bitter ache curled in his belly. Another age, another friend lost. Carwyn’s voice was hoarse. “Well, our Father must have needed a few bad jokes about Irishmen.”
Father Hugh’s eyes twinkled. “Carwyn, everyone needs a few bad jokes about Irishmen.”
Carwyn laughed as the old man settled into the chair and pointed the vampire toward the sherry. “Help yourself. If you could pour me just a small glass, I’d be glad.”
“Of course.” He walked over and poured a small amount of the wine into two glasses and brought them over.
“How is your family? I received a lovely letter from Deirdre when I wrote her after Ioan’s loss. She seems to be doing as well as she can.”
“She is. And she has a new member of her clan who has… kept her busy.”
“A new child?” Father Hugh’s eyes furrowed. “Someone in need of healing?”
Carwyn had never elaborated on the specifics of siring vampires with the old priest. His thoughts turned to Brigid for the thousandth time. ‘Someone in need of healing…’
“Yes.” He nodded. “It was a… a friend in need of healing. She seems to be doing very well in immortality, so we are grateful for that.”
“Why the unexpected visit? I hope Sister Maggie is satisfied with Father Samuel. He’s sent me regular updates and seems very happy in the village.” Father Hugh’s eyes twinkled. “A very enthusiastic boy. The young ones are often like that.”
“And often lose it in time, Hugh. You are a rare one.”
“I have been given the gift of joy. Something I think we’ve always shared, though…”
Carwyn looked up in concern, noting the old man’s downcast expression. “What is it, Hugh? Are you all right?”
“It’s not me.” Hugh smiled. “What is troubling you, old friend?”
Carwyn leaned back and sighed. “You’ve always been a sharp one.”
“Found out what you were, didn’t I?”
“That, you did.”
“What is it? I don’t have eternity like some people.”
He laughed and took a sip of wine. “I’m thinking of leaving. The priesthood, I mean.”
Hugh’s mouth dropped open. “Leaving the church?”
“Not the church.” He shook his head. “The priesthood.”
“Why?” Hugh scooted toward him. “Do not mistake me. I am not wholly surprised by this. After all, a thousand years of service is incomprehensible to me. You have blessed so many. But I always thought you had resigned yourself to your solitude.”
Carwyn tapped his chin. “It was solitude, wasn’t it? I don’t think I ever saw it that way until recently.”
“Our parishioners are a kind of family. Your immortal clan is another. I know you speak of many friends. But…” Hugh offered a gentle smile. “We see life. As priests, we are observers, but often stand alone with our God and our calling. For a mortal man, it is a joyful sacrifice. But to face eternity without a mate, as you have, is something altogether different. I know that it was something Ioan and I spoke of.”
“I’m well aware of his views of my celibacy. I didn’t know that you’d spoken about them.”
“Well not in detail!” Hugh laughed. “What sort of men do you think we are?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” Carwyn shook his head and said, “I don’t think I saw it that way until recently.”
“What? As solitude?”
“Yes.”
Hugh shrugged. “Well, you have always been busy. Tending your own flock. Seeing to your family. But that kind of company is not the same as the beauty of marriage that God consecrated for mankind.”
“Father Carwyn!” he called, reaching up to switch on the hearing aid that had, apparently, been turned off. “I have to say that the benefits of hearing loss far outweigh the negatives when one is trying to finish writing letters. Why, just a quick switch of the batteries and I am plunged into a most pleasant silence, the likes of which not even Father Simon can disturb with his chattering.”
Father Hugh stood and ambled over to the hulking immortal. He wrapped spindly arms around Carwyn’s shoulders as they embraced.
Carwyn said, “It’s good to see you, my friend.”
“I think it may be one of the last times,” the priest said with cheer. “I feel my homecoming may be soon.”
The vampire smiled. “Now, Hugh. I think that’s a bit hard to—”
“No, no.” Hugh waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t spoil my excitement. I’m quite ready to exchange the earthly body for the celestial one, thank you. My walks around the garden are getting shorter and shorter, and I can hardly taste food anymore. It’s about time.” Father Hugh patted Carwyn’s shoulder and led them toward the low chairs that surrounded the fire in the sitting room.
“And you’d force me to bid good-bye to another friend when I’ve just said good-bye to Ioan?”
Carwyn was mostly joking. He’d known his old friend was failing for a few years. The signs and scents of impending death were evident. It would be a matter of months until Father Hugh went to his eternal home.
The priest looked up and smiled wistfully. “Surely God knew that I would be arriving shortly. Why else would he call my old friend Ioan to keep me company in eternity?”
The familiar bitter ache curled in his belly. Another age, another friend lost. Carwyn’s voice was hoarse. “Well, our Father must have needed a few bad jokes about Irishmen.”
Father Hugh’s eyes twinkled. “Carwyn, everyone needs a few bad jokes about Irishmen.”
Carwyn laughed as the old man settled into the chair and pointed the vampire toward the sherry. “Help yourself. If you could pour me just a small glass, I’d be glad.”
“Of course.” He walked over and poured a small amount of the wine into two glasses and brought them over.
“How is your family? I received a lovely letter from Deirdre when I wrote her after Ioan’s loss. She seems to be doing as well as she can.”
“She is. And she has a new member of her clan who has… kept her busy.”
“A new child?” Father Hugh’s eyes furrowed. “Someone in need of healing?”
Carwyn had never elaborated on the specifics of siring vampires with the old priest. His thoughts turned to Brigid for the thousandth time. ‘Someone in need of healing…’
“Yes.” He nodded. “It was a… a friend in need of healing. She seems to be doing very well in immortality, so we are grateful for that.”
“Why the unexpected visit? I hope Sister Maggie is satisfied with Father Samuel. He’s sent me regular updates and seems very happy in the village.” Father Hugh’s eyes twinkled. “A very enthusiastic boy. The young ones are often like that.”
“And often lose it in time, Hugh. You are a rare one.”
“I have been given the gift of joy. Something I think we’ve always shared, though…”
Carwyn looked up in concern, noting the old man’s downcast expression. “What is it, Hugh? Are you all right?”
“It’s not me.” Hugh smiled. “What is troubling you, old friend?”
Carwyn leaned back and sighed. “You’ve always been a sharp one.”
“Found out what you were, didn’t I?”
“That, you did.”
“What is it? I don’t have eternity like some people.”
He laughed and took a sip of wine. “I’m thinking of leaving. The priesthood, I mean.”
Hugh’s mouth dropped open. “Leaving the church?”
“Not the church.” He shook his head. “The priesthood.”
“Why?” Hugh scooted toward him. “Do not mistake me. I am not wholly surprised by this. After all, a thousand years of service is incomprehensible to me. You have blessed so many. But I always thought you had resigned yourself to your solitude.”
Carwyn tapped his chin. “It was solitude, wasn’t it? I don’t think I ever saw it that way until recently.”
“Our parishioners are a kind of family. Your immortal clan is another. I know you speak of many friends. But…” Hugh offered a gentle smile. “We see life. As priests, we are observers, but often stand alone with our God and our calling. For a mortal man, it is a joyful sacrifice. But to face eternity without a mate, as you have, is something altogether different. I know that it was something Ioan and I spoke of.”
“I’m well aware of his views of my celibacy. I didn’t know that you’d spoken about them.”
“Well not in detail!” Hugh laughed. “What sort of men do you think we are?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?” Carwyn shook his head and said, “I don’t think I saw it that way until recently.”
“What? As solitude?”
“Yes.”
Hugh shrugged. “Well, you have always been busy. Tending your own flock. Seeing to your family. But that kind of company is not the same as the beauty of marriage that God consecrated for mankind.”
