PRELADE: MIDNIGHT VIGIL Isit not passing brave to be a king, And ride in triumph through Persepolis? — Christopher Marlowe, Tamburlaine the Great From the windows of the church, stained glass saints and angels looked down onthe world of men. Were they watching? Ifthey watched, then they did not sce the poet thought. Otherwise would they allow the late-night world he had discovered of late! Or perhaps they did see, and prepared a special place in Hell for those who transgressed God's law. It was certainly not the first time that thought had crossed his mind. “They ate beautiful, are they not?” The young man started at the sound of the voice so close behind him, but regained his composure quickly before curing to face its source. ndeed they are,” he replied. As are you, he added silently. The vision standing before him was perhaps the most beautiful man he had ever seen Not merely handsome, but beautiful in the way the poets of the ancient world ke of masculine spun gold, gleaming darkly in che ight ofthe presence lamp, one errant cutl across his forehead. His eyes were pools of the deepest blue, like the darkening sky, His features were faimaindl noble, his skin as smooth, pale, and flawless as fine marble. The simple whiterobe he wore empha: allor, making him look like an angel descended from one of the win- Jows above, although nothing could have been further from the truth. ‘We find solace in things of beauty,” the stranger said, his eyes going to the great rose window behind Uhcnave,itscolorslikedatkling jewelsin the lamplight Then his dark eyes tured away from it. “l am Henri You are the artist my liege spoke of Daniel,” he said with a bow. “A humble poet and playwrigh A ghost of a smile played about Henri’s grim mouth. “Daniel, who walked into the lion’s den How fitting. The son of the Baron of Winchester, are you not?” Daniel wasn’t overly surprised Henri should know his parentage. It was hardly a secret, after all. “The third son, yes. Th: inheriting my father's estate, thank God.” “Whyso?” greatbarony, nodoubt wedded to a nobleman’s daughter, with fine sons and daughters of your own. There are many men who Gream of such things, and many second and third sons made bitter by their lo ‘Not |,” the playwright replied. “My only dreams are to pursue my art, not to become muddled in the mire of politics, sir.” "You need not call me'‘sr’, Daniel, for lam nota knight yet. That is for tomorrow night. Tonight is me to prepare myself for my duties, and keep vigilhe But first one more question for yous is it true that my lord has com > write poems and plays based on the tale: ye twa hrathers and sa na hopes of sioned you t fou gather Daniel inclined hishead. “That isso. His lordship is a most generous and gracious patron. "Indeed he is. trust that he has also made clear to you the rewards he offers for true anc as well as the punishments for failure.” The threat hung in the still and cold air for a long moment, but Daniel chose to ignore it “I shall not disturb your meditations in any way,” he told Hen “I thank you,” Henti said. “I must begin.” He stepped past Daniel and moved up to the altar rail where a knightly raiment of mail was laid out, topped with a fine sword in a leather sheath, its hilt rich with jewels and chased with gold. Henri sank to his knees, hands clasped at his breast and head owed, muttering words in Latin under his breath, Daniel kept a respectful distance and watched silently takingin the image of the squire kneeling in prayer and meditation throughout the night, until the coming of the dawn. The following night, it was time for the cer. emony, and Daniel was permitted to watch as Hent was awarded his knighthood. Lord Rouald presided over the rite, assisted by a priest dressed in somber black, wearing a pure white stole. Henri came fort to have the white belt faorened around his waist and the gold-chased spurs placed onto his boots. Then he knelt before Lord Rouald, head bare and bowed. jord drew his sword from its seabbard, the sound of metal on metal loud in the silent chapel. He raised it before him, blade held high, and addressed the man kneeling before him. “Henri, why do you come before us today?” ‘To enter into your service, my lord,” Henri replied in a firm voice. “wish to become your liege man of life and limb and of earthly worship. Faith and truth I will bear unto you to the death... and beyond, in the name of the Dark Father and by m blood, I swear it!” The sword fell to vouch Hent’s left shoulder, then hisright, then came torest upon the crown ofhis head "Then | take you as my liege-man, Henri, and invest youas my knight. Faith and honor I shall ren unto you so long as youare in my service.” He sheathed the sword as Henti ke this head bowed, Rise, Sir Henri,” Lord Rouald bade, and his new liege-man did as he was asked. Then the lord took a down to where Henri stood, the two men stand ingface to face. Rouald spoke softly, butin the silence of the church, Daniel was able to hear the words. "You have served me well, Henti this gift to you.” He spread his arms and embraced the new knight like a son. Then, with the swiftness ofa striking snake, Rouald sank his fangs deep into Hensi’s throat Daniel gasped. Henri emitted only a soft whim per; like a sigh of pleasure. His knees buckled Rowald held him up, his lips clinging to Henr’s neck his arms tight around the young knight's body. For ternity he held him in that dread er choked sigh and ne floor what seemed like an embrace, until Henri gave an Rouald lowered him to the cold Daniel was paralyzed, watching events unfold with horrified fascination as Rouald drew the dagger athisbeltand knelt beside the supine knight. The lord drew the blade across his wrist and allowed the fist drops of blood, dark and glimmering in the candle light, to fall onto Henri’s lips as the priest took up an unfamiliar chant in Latin. Moments after the first dcops fell, Henri convulsed, his body stretched likea manon the rack, and hecried out. Daniel! the souind of thar forlorn ry, lk from the armas of its mother. Then the young knight hild rippedsemed like a very long ‘These things must be remembered,” Rouald said m ticular d hat Daniel had never it unsteady on his feet rom the church,