| Summer Series 2002: The Journey of the Fool Story the 2nd ~ The High Priestess By Kuzibah |
| Disclaimer: Spike is not mine, more's the pity. Spoilers: For "Grave." Archive- Please email request. Feedback- Absolutely. ******************* -Near Diorbel, Senegal �Thanks, mate,� Spike called to the truck driver as he drove away, leaving the vampire by the side of the road near yet another river village. He�d been traveling for three nights, always leaving his transportation an hour or so before dawn to take shelter. So far he�d enjoyed the luxury of an abandoned hut, an overturned and half-burned shell of a truck, and a cave along the river barely larger than a coffin. He was exhausted, starving, filthy dirty, and the native garb he�d managed to beg in the first village was several sizes too large. About a hundred yards from the road he saw candlelight flickering through windows, early risers preparing for another day. Spike approached, hoping to find an empty house or barn. The first building he came to was a plain, wooden church, looking very like the pioneer churches that dotted the American west. The walls were white-washed, and the windows had actual glass. A dark wooden cross stood at the peak of the roof, silhouetted against the night sky. Behind the church, a goat was tethered to a stake in the ground not far from a small henhouse. Nearby, laundry hung limply on a line --- white, button-down shirts, plain blue dresses, long black robes. Missionaries. Spike�s instinctive wariness of churches was completely overwhelmed by the thought of a clean linen shirt on his still healing body, and he slipped across the darkened yard. Inside, a dog began barking, and Spike heard a woman call something in the local dialect. He snatched a shirt from the line and ran for the relative cover of a few scrubby trees. The door to the church opened, and he could see a woman against the light within. She wore a thin shift, and in the crook of one arm she cradled a shotgun. In her other hand she flicked on a flashlight, and Spike froze as she swept the beam in a slow arc over the yard. A black-and-white dog pushed past the woman�s legs and pointed towards Spike�s hiding place, barking. The woman turned the light right into Spike�s face. �Don�t shoot,� he said. �Please.� She squinted at him. �Anglais?� Spike nodded. �Oui,� he said, suddenly grateful for all those nights Darla had tortured him and Dru with French lessons. �What are you doing here?� she asked, again in French. �I�m trying to reach Dakar,� he replied in the same language, then shrugged helplessly, holding up the shirt. �I�m sorry,� he said. �I�ve been traveling� I need somewhere to rest.� He hesitated, wondering if he could trust this woman, or if she would suspect his true nature and destroy him. �The sunlight,� he said. �I have rare condition. It will kill me.� She took a few steps closer, regarding him with interest now. �I see,� she said. �your skin� you are too white; there is no protection there.� �Yes,� he agreed, thankful for the human tendency to make its own explanations. She lowered the flashlight and the gun. �Come inside then,� she said, and gratefully Spike entered. �Can I get you something,� she said, sounding as though the offer was automatic. He handed her the shirt. �You�ve already been more than generous,� he said. �Are you alone here?� As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Spike knew he�d said the wrong thing. The woman stiffened and tightened her grip on the gun. �No, please,� Spike said quickly. �I�ve frightened you. Please forgive me. I�m very tired.� He spread his hands, revealing he carried no weapon. �I didn�t lie,� he continued. �I do need shelter from the sunlight. Please help me. Dawn is coming.� The woman seemed to come to a decision and raised her hand to her forehead, massaging it lightly. �Not even God would be so cruel,� she said under her breath. If Spike had not been a vampire, he wouldn�t have heard her. �We have been hit by an intestinal virus,� she said aloud, �and my husband and the others had to be taken to hospital in Dakar. You are welcome to stay in one of their rooms.� �Thank you,� Spike said. ~:~:~:~:~ Spike didn�t sleep much, as he hadn�t since leaving the cave. He watched the slivers of light that came through the cracks in the shutters move over the walls and floor, and he watched little green lizards, the African equivalent of cockroaches, apparently, scamper back and forth across the ceiling, but every time he closed his eyes, scenes of bloody mayhem played out in his mind, making his stomach twist and his heart squeeze tight and sleep a very remote possibility. The missionary woman, whose named, he had learned, was Floriane, came to him at sundown. �There is a truck convoy on its way to Dakar coming through in about two hours, I�m told,� she said. �You can most likely catch a ride.� Spike was genuinely surprised that Floriane was concerned enough to make inquiries on his behalf, and expressed real, heartfelt gratitude. When she handed him a clean, neatly-folded shirt, it took him a few moments to regain his voice. �I am going, now, to lead the evening prayers,� she told him. �I am going to ask for your safe journey. Will you join us in the sanctuary?� It seemed to take all of his effort for Spike not to recoil from the suggestion. His memories of tearing through the extremely Catholic and highly superstitious Eastern Europe with Angelus, desecrating churches and convents all along the way, played across his mind, but he did know from that experience that he could easily enter a holy place as long as he was careful not to touch crosses, bibles, the elements of communion, holy water, or any saintly relics that happened to be lying around. �Yes, thank you,� he said quietly. He sat at the end of the last pew, his hands folded in his lap and his head bowed, as Floriane led the prayers and then said the homily. Spike wondered if she had written it with her suspicions about him in her mind as he listened to her preach. �God�s love is infinite,� she said, �and His capacity for forgiveness is infinite. There is no deed that can separate you from God�s love, not if you go to him with a penitent heart.� Spike lingered in the sanctuary awhile after the service had ended, staring at the large, wooden cross that dominated the altar. Hesitantly, he reached out one hand to touch it, then hissed and drew back in pain as it burned his fingertips. �I can see this is something we�ll have to work out,� he said to the air above him. �No wonder Angel�s gone crazy,� he muttered under his breath as he cradled his injured hand and left to catch the truck convoy. Go on to part 4 - The Empress Main Menu ~ Return to Summer Series 2002 Menu |