A Wolf At The Door

Quatre

Before Olivier even had a chance to sputter out a word, Father Samuel marched forward and grabbed hold of the soaked woman. She let out a whimper as he gripped her by the arm, tugging her away from the door.

"Let go of me! Please!" She cried, trying to dig her heels into the floor. "You are hurting me!"

"Silence, woman!" The man growled, yanking her forward roughly.

The other monks quickly cleared a path for Father Samuel, parting like the Red Sea had for Moses. Even Olivier dared not to step in the man's way, knowing well enough that would earn him a scolding and probably a shove to the side. 

So he stood there biting his tongue, watching helplessly as Father Samuel guided the woman down the narrow hallway that led to the monastic cell.

He could still hear her cries long after she was gone.

After a few minutes of tense waiting, Father Samuel finally emerged from the darkness. His breathing was labored, almost like he was panting. His robe was slightly wrinkled and there was a dangerous glint in his eye Olivier had never seen before.

It frightened him.

"I will personally be looking after the woman," his voice bellowed over the silent crowd. "You are not to come near her unless I give you my permission. Is that understood?" His eyes shifted to Olivier, narrowing as he stared at the boy.

Olivier gave a quick, assured nod, muttering a soft 'yes' alongside the other monks.

"Good. You all can go back to your suppers." Father Samuel dismissed them, beginning to turn back towards the hallway. 

"Father Samuel." Olivier stopped him, moving past the dispersing monks. "Should we not bring the woman some food and water?"

Father Samuel huffed in response. "She will not stay here for long. I am sure she can do without it."

"But-"

"Enough, Olivier." The man's steely glare silenced him instantly. "Go finish your supper."

The boy lowered his head, wringing his hands together. "Yes, Father."

He walked back to the kitchen in shameful silence with only the sounds of the storm to listen to. It echoed through his ears, filling them with their endless claps and roars. Its constant howls and whistles. Even when he reached the kitchen, he heard nothing of the monks' whispers or mutters.

Only the storm.

Glancing to make sure no one was watching, Olivier snatched his loaf of bread and cup of water, slipping them under his robe. 

With a small smile on his face, he left the kitchen without as so much as a glance in his direction.

For once, he was grateful no one bothered to pay attention to him.

**

Much to his surprise, Father Samuel was nowhere in sight when he arrived at the cell door. However, Olivier's knew better than to delay in his relief, for Father Samuel could return at any moment.

"Hello?" He whispered beside the door, peering into the small window at the top. His eyes made out no sight or shape within the vast darkness. Not even the stars allowed the faintest glimmer of light from the window inside the cell.

"Yes?" A soft voice answered back. "Who is there?"

"It is me. The boy from yesterday." Olivier was on the tips of his toes, trying desperately to see into the cell. "I have brought you some bread and water. I apologize it could not be more." Some of the crust flaked off as he squeezed the loaf through the iron bars.

The woman's small hand appeared through the bars, letting it brush against his own as she took it. "This is more than enough. Thank you."

"May I ask you something?" He tried passing the cup to her, finding that it would not fit through the bars.

"Just pour the cup into my mouth," she instructed. 

"Will that work?" Olivier furrowed his brows. 

"Yes, it will be just like- like rainfall!" She assured with a laugh.

"Al-Alright." His hands shook as he lowered the cup. He listened to the water flow into her mouth as she lapped it up.

Her face suddenly came into view from the shadows that had obscured it. There was a slight smile on her wet lips. "What did you want to ask?"

"Oh, um, what were you doing out there?" He scratched the back of his neck. "In the storm, I mean."

"I had been walking around in the swamp, trying to familiarize myself with it after so long. It seems I wandered too far since before I knew it, the storm had come and I had no way of getting back to the manor," she sighed, drawing back from the window. 

Olivier's mind was stricken with curiosity at her words, beginning to form many questions about her. "Is that why you were at the monastery yesterday? Because you lived here before?"

Her face reappeared, bearing a forlorn expression upon it. "Yes. I lived here as a girl. I have many fond memories of this swamp. Memories that became too painful to bear once I was left alone in the world."

"Where did you go?" He asked in a hushed tone.

"Everywhere." Her frown had changed into a wistful smile. "I traveled the newly formed States. I went to Europe and back to my ancestral home in France."

"France," he repeated, noting the distinct way she had pronounced the country. "You are French?"

She gave an eager nod. "I bear the proud and ancient family name of Leleu." 

"And your name... it is also French, correct?" The woman peered down at him, wrapping both of her hands around the bars.

"I-I do not know." Olivier cringed at himself, remembering he had never asked the woman's name. How could he have been so impolite as to forget? "Forgive me, but I never asked for your name."

"It is Arielle," she whispered before disappearing back into the darkness. 

"Olivier." Father Samuel stood in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Fa-Father Samuel!" Olivier wheezed, shrinking away from the door. "I-I- was-"

"Do not dare attempt to lie to me, insolent child!" He stormed forward until he was towering over the trembling boy. "You think you can fool me when I have been here this entire time?"

"No! Father, I would never-" Olivier started to retreat from the man, only to be held firmly in place by him. 

"How dare you disobey me when I told you not to!" Father Samuel fumed, digging his fingers into the boy's shoulder. "I thought- I hoped- you would not appear here. What a fool I was to believe otherwise!"

"You have proven once again to be sinful in your disobedience," he continued. "I am disappointed in you, Olivier."

"I-I am sorry," the boy mumbled, hanging his head. 

"Enough of your apologies. They are meaningless." Father Samuel's grip was abruptly released from his shoulder. "Now, go. The other monks are in the church for their evening prayers."

And with that, Olivier took his leave, unaware that a pair of glowing eyes were watching him from the darkness of the cell.