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smackenzieIt takes another two days for the inquisitor to arrive, and when Brother Peire shows up at the prison for his daily visit, the guards tell him that the prisoner is being questioned and the inquisitor doesn't want to be interrupted for any reason whatsoever.
Brother Peire doesn't know what to say to that – he's been instructed not to get in the inquisitor's way, and in any case Rainaut is in the mayor's prison and the Gray Friars don't have that much authority here. It doesn't matter that Brother Peire is allowed to see Rainaut on the mayor's orders. The inquisitor wants privacy, so that's what he gets.
"You're back early," Brother Gueri comments, when Brother Peire goes back to the friary.
"The inquisitor is here," he says. "He doesn't want to be disturbed."
"Don't worry. I borrowed one of Brother Abbot's books and the inquisitor usually just interviews the heretic first. Gets an official confession, interviews any bystanders, that kind of thing. He won't have been tortured yet." He peers at Brother Peire's face. "Do you need some work to do? Or would you prefer the privacy of the chapel?"
"I don't know."
"If you're thinking about going to talk to Brother Abbot, don't. You know that even we have to step back before the Holy Father's inquisitors."
"No, I know. I think I'm just disappointed. I was starting to look forward to talking to Rainaut."
Brother Gueri quirks an eyebrow.
"The heretic," Brother Peire explains, realizing that maybe he shouldn't be so familiar with the man's name outside of the prison. He doesn't want to be forbidden from seeing him out of fear that the heterodoxy is catching.
"I would avoid using his name in public, if I were you. If you need work to do, Brother Aimeric could use some help in the kitchen. Or Brother Hernaudin is studying some obscure bits of scripture and would no doubt like someone to argue his theories with."
Brother Hernaudin spent most of his holy life as a mendicant friar, until an incident involving a rocky slope, a rabbit, and an ill-fitting shoe did sufficient damage to his ankle and knee that he had to retire his wandering. He claims not to miss it. He teaches some of Montagui's boys at the little friary school and likes to spend as much time as possible in the library or the abbot's office, studying the various holy books and commentaries and hagiographies in the friars' possession.
But Brother Peire doesn't feel like arguing the finer points of scriptures with Brother Hernaudin. Neither does he want to be in the kitchen. He heads for the chapel, which is quiet this time of day, and sits in the front pew and folds his hands and thinks about his God and Rainaut's God and the articles of a man's faith and the many ways someone can live a good life. He prays silently for Rainaut's physical and spiritual health, and asks God to turn his heart so he will recant and accept the teachings of the Mother Church back into his life.
The chapel door is closed to keep in the warmth, although the body heat generated by friars at worship has dissipated by now, and Brother Peire can barely hear the comings and goings of people outside the walls. It's not a very big chapel, but it has colored glass in the windows and a mural painted on the wall behind the altar, showing St Austor in his gray robe kneeling at the feet of an elderly man with light shining around his head. Someone has blown out the candles on the altar – Brother Peire hopes one of the acolytes did it by mistake, and that the boy remembers to light them again before the afternoon service – but there's a lamp hanging over the door that's still lit, representing the eternal flame of God's love. It hangs inside the front door of every chapel and every church, welcoming the faithful to God's house. Brother Peire has his back to it, but it comforts him to know it's there.
He sits in the chapel thinking and praying until Brother Gueri comes to tell him that it's time to walk over to Sers Aelinor's, to bring her some bread and politely refuse her wine and worship with her.
"You can go see your heretic tomorrow," he says, as they head out. "The first day with the inquisitor is always the longest."
But the next day, when Brother Peire announces himself at the prison gates, he's told the same thing he was told the first day – the inquisitor is busy interviewing the prisoner. Come back tomorrow. The guards tell him the same thing the next day, and the day after that, and finally Brother Peire asks to speak to the abbot.
"They won't let me see him," he explains. "I know we're not supposed to bother the inquisitor, and I would never presume that my work is more important than his - "
"Our work is equally important," the abbot interrupts. Brother Peire must look a little taken aback, because he adds "Pardon me, Brother Peire, continue."
"I just – Brother Abbot, I was, I was making progress. If you could call it that. I was starting to understand him. I know more now – I can help him better. But I have to see him."
"I was given to understand that we would be allowed some time with the heretic, either after the inquisitor's work or during a break. I will see what can be done."
"Thank you, Brother Abbot, thank you. May God bless you and all the works of your hands."
"And you, Brother, as well. I will try to speak to Ser Mayor tomorrow, and then the day after, you may try at the prison again."
And so Brother Peire appears at the prison two days later, bearing bread and water for Rainaut and a small egg pie for the guards - "This is not a bribe," Brother Aimeric whispers, "but they might appreciate a nice snack" - and this time they let him in.
Rainaut is lying on his back on the floor of his cell, one arm flung over his eyes and the other resting across his chest. The tiny window high up in the wall lets in a thin beam of sunlight, but it's enough for Brother Peire to see by. The guard shuts the cell door behind him. Brother Peire has brought a candle, which the guards grudgingly let him keep, because he remembers how dim it is in Rainaut's cell and how welcome a light must be.
"Go away," Rainaut mutters from under his arm. "I am not in the mood."
"It's me, Brother Peire." He puts the bread and water on the floor and sits down by Rainaut's leg. He's still holding the candle, afraid to put it down in case it falls over and goes out. "They wouldn't let me see you, but Brother Abbot talked to Ser Mayor and the guards finally let me in. I brought you something to eat and drink, and a candle."
Rainaut moves his arm and sits up slowly. He blinks at Brother Peire. "I wondered what happened to you. I thought your abbot might have accomplished whatever his goal was, so you didn't have to come visit any more."
Brother Peire doesn't know how to answer that, other than to say the very suggestion is offensive and insulting. But he's been taught to not be so confrontational, so he only says "The guards kept telling me the inquisitor was working and didn't want to be disturbed."
"That he was." Rainaut takes the water and gulps it down. "The first couple of days were just interviews and interrogations. He had me make my confession, which was so very simple – 'Do you confess to the sin of heresy?'" His voice drops an octave, no doubt imitating the inquisitor's deep, formal tones. "I asked him to define 'heresy'." He grins ruefully. "I don't think he liked that. So I said yes, I was a heretic, I practiced heresy, guilty as charged. They brought in the two men I was talking to in the marketplace, so they could swear under oath that I tried to convert them – which is a lie, by the way, and one of them admitted I did no such thing, that the three of us were just complaining, as people do in at market – they also brought in a couple of men I'd never seen, who swore that I tried to convert them as well, and a young woman, a butcher's wife, who claimed I stole a pair of rabbits from her shop. Just picked them up and ran off with them." He chuckles. "I laughed in her face. That was a mistake."
"What did he – the inquisitor – what did he do?"
"Beat the palms of my hands with a switch, as if I was a schoolboy who'd forgotten his lessons." He holds out his hands, palms up. They're striped red with fading welts. "Next is probably the bottoms of my feet."
"How are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you in much pain?"
Rainaut shrugs. "My hands don't hurt as much. Today was a little stretching and some very bright lights in my eyes. Last night I wasn't allowed to sleep more than an hour or two." He smiles. "Don't look so afraid for me. Now that it's started, I'm ready."
"How can you be so casual? You don't know what the inquisitor is going to do to you."
"I have a fair idea. He told me. I'm not the first heretic to die under torture, and I won't be the last. Your spiritual brothers and sisters died at the hands of people they were trying to convert, didn't they? It's not a new thing, to die for your faith. I just hope it doesn't take too long."
"Are you in such a hurry to die?" Brother Peire is appalled, and it must be obvious even in the flickering light of his candle and the dim light from outside, because Rainaut's face softens and he puts his hand on Brother Peire's knee.
"I'm not, no. I like my life. I want to keep it a little longer. But I don't have any illusions about what's going to happen to me. I can pray all I want, but as much as God might love me, I know what happens to people charged with heresy who don't recant."
"Rainaut...."
"I plan to hold out as long as I can. I'm a very stubborn man and I have no intention of giving the inquisitor or your holy Mother Church what they want. God might even bring me a miracle and the inquisitor will set me free."
"But your soul."
"My soul is in fine shape, my brother." He leans forward so he can take Brother Peire's hand. "I want you to come back tomorrow. It will give me something to look forward to when the inquisitor is yanking my arms out of their sockets."
"Please stop." Brother Peire's voice is shaky and quiet and he knows he should pull his hand away, but he can't bring himself to move it.
"I'm sorry. I have to joke, or I'll lose my mind. You understand, don't you? If I die, and I probably will, I'll go into the light for all eternity, as my reward for living a faithful life. But my community, we believe that our time on earth is a gift from God, and God wants us to enjoy it. So I'm not in any hurry to see that light." His eyes flick down to the candleflame, and he grins. "How considerate of you to bring a teaching aid."
"I just thought you might want a little more light."
"I know what you meant." Rainaut lets go of his hand. "I'm teasing you, friar, you should know that by now."
He really should, and he realizes that he actually likes it. He knows Rainaut doesn't mean any harm or insult, and his little jokes seem more affectionate than anything else. It's like they share a private joke.
"Brother Peire – are you blushing?"
"Am I?" Brother Peire ducks his head, embarrassed. Rainaut laughs.
"You are! No wonder your merchant's mother throws you interesting looks."
Brother Peire's head comes up and he stares at the heretic. "She's old enough to be my mother's mother! Even if I could be tempted - " How absurd, to think that Sers Aelinor might be interested in him the way women are interested in men. Now it's his turn to laugh. He realizes Rainaut is smiling at him. "What? Are you thinking of another joke?"
"In a way. But this is just a joke that God is playing on me. It's not actually that funny."
"Tell me. Please?"
"It's just funny that God should bring you to me under these circumstances, and that you should be a Gray Friar and I should be a... heretic."
"I don't understand."
"Think about it. You won't laugh, I can tell you that." He yawns. "This may be a ridiculous question to ask you, but I need to sleep, and if you're here I don't think the guards will bother me. Last night they kept coming in to yell at me and keep me up. Will you stay here until you have to go, even if I fall asleep? You can pray to your god for my immortal soul, I don't mind."
"I don't know how much longer I have." Eventually he'll have to leave for Sers Aelinor's house, where Brother Gueri will be waiting for him.
"I don't care." Rainaut lies back down, stretching out on the dirt floor. "Don't wake me when you leave."
"From what you said, the guards won't be very quiet."
"No, I guess not."
"Do you want me to put out the candle?"
"Only if you want to." Rainaut lifts his head. "Thank you for coming back."
"I thought we were friends," Brother Peire says, grinning. He can just see Rainaut's answering grin before the heretic puts his head back down, and after a minute or so Brother Peire can tell from his breathing that he's asleep.
Brother Peire folds his hands around the candle and sings, very quietly, one of the prayers from the evening service, the last service that the Gray Friars chant before bed. It's the kind of prayer that small children recite right before going to sleep, a short prayer of thanks to God for being allowed to see the end of another day, and a plea for the grace to see another morning.
And then he sits there and watches Rainaut sleep, and just as he did in the friars' chapel, he thinks and he prays. He wonders if in the heretics' chapel – if they even have a chapel – is an eternal flame hanging just inside the door, to welcome people to worship and to show them the light of God's love.
The guards make a great deal of noise when his time is up, waking Rainaut just as Brother Peire thought they would. They take the friar outside and suggest that tomorrow he come later in the day, because the inquisitor wasn't happy at having his work interrupted, and he can't make any progress in the heretic's case if he keeps having to stop. Oh, and if he could bring another pie, that would be much appreciated. Brother Peire only says that he'll mention it to the friar in charge of the kitchen.
It's not until the dusk service, as they friars' voices lift to heaven, that he realizes Rainaut called him brother. He knows this should bother him, that a heretic feels they're that close, but it doesn't seem wrong. In a way, he guesses, they are brothers – both religious men, even if their beliefs are different and Rainaut is walking the wrong path, but both men with a strong faith and a commitment to what each thinks is right. Rainaut is in prison, where he will likely die for his beliefs, but if circumstances were different and Brother Peire were the one in the cell, wouldn't he hold on to his faith and his God as well, and refuse to recant no matter how the inquisitor tortured him?
For the first time in his life, Brother Peire has a secret, and his secret is that he cares about a heretic. Not in the way that friars care about the people of Montagui, or the way a holy man is supposed to care about an apostate – not in the sense that he's concerned for Rainaut's soul, although he is, but in the sense that a person cares about his or her friends, for no other reason than because they're friends.
He cares for Rainaut the way he cares for Brother Gueri, or Brother Imbert, as an equal and a good man.
Please, God, he thinks, please save him, for my sake as well as his. Show him the light of Your mercy and bring him back to You. I don't want him to die.
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total words: 12,156
Brother Peire doesn't know what to say to that – he's been instructed not to get in the inquisitor's way, and in any case Rainaut is in the mayor's prison and the Gray Friars don't have that much authority here. It doesn't matter that Brother Peire is allowed to see Rainaut on the mayor's orders. The inquisitor wants privacy, so that's what he gets.
"You're back early," Brother Gueri comments, when Brother Peire goes back to the friary.
"The inquisitor is here," he says. "He doesn't want to be disturbed."
"Don't worry. I borrowed one of Brother Abbot's books and the inquisitor usually just interviews the heretic first. Gets an official confession, interviews any bystanders, that kind of thing. He won't have been tortured yet." He peers at Brother Peire's face. "Do you need some work to do? Or would you prefer the privacy of the chapel?"
"I don't know."
"If you're thinking about going to talk to Brother Abbot, don't. You know that even we have to step back before the Holy Father's inquisitors."
"No, I know. I think I'm just disappointed. I was starting to look forward to talking to Rainaut."
Brother Gueri quirks an eyebrow.
"The heretic," Brother Peire explains, realizing that maybe he shouldn't be so familiar with the man's name outside of the prison. He doesn't want to be forbidden from seeing him out of fear that the heterodoxy is catching.
"I would avoid using his name in public, if I were you. If you need work to do, Brother Aimeric could use some help in the kitchen. Or Brother Hernaudin is studying some obscure bits of scripture and would no doubt like someone to argue his theories with."
Brother Hernaudin spent most of his holy life as a mendicant friar, until an incident involving a rocky slope, a rabbit, and an ill-fitting shoe did sufficient damage to his ankle and knee that he had to retire his wandering. He claims not to miss it. He teaches some of Montagui's boys at the little friary school and likes to spend as much time as possible in the library or the abbot's office, studying the various holy books and commentaries and hagiographies in the friars' possession.
But Brother Peire doesn't feel like arguing the finer points of scriptures with Brother Hernaudin. Neither does he want to be in the kitchen. He heads for the chapel, which is quiet this time of day, and sits in the front pew and folds his hands and thinks about his God and Rainaut's God and the articles of a man's faith and the many ways someone can live a good life. He prays silently for Rainaut's physical and spiritual health, and asks God to turn his heart so he will recant and accept the teachings of the Mother Church back into his life.
The chapel door is closed to keep in the warmth, although the body heat generated by friars at worship has dissipated by now, and Brother Peire can barely hear the comings and goings of people outside the walls. It's not a very big chapel, but it has colored glass in the windows and a mural painted on the wall behind the altar, showing St Austor in his gray robe kneeling at the feet of an elderly man with light shining around his head. Someone has blown out the candles on the altar – Brother Peire hopes one of the acolytes did it by mistake, and that the boy remembers to light them again before the afternoon service – but there's a lamp hanging over the door that's still lit, representing the eternal flame of God's love. It hangs inside the front door of every chapel and every church, welcoming the faithful to God's house. Brother Peire has his back to it, but it comforts him to know it's there.
He sits in the chapel thinking and praying until Brother Gueri comes to tell him that it's time to walk over to Sers Aelinor's, to bring her some bread and politely refuse her wine and worship with her.
"You can go see your heretic tomorrow," he says, as they head out. "The first day with the inquisitor is always the longest."
But the next day, when Brother Peire announces himself at the prison gates, he's told the same thing he was told the first day – the inquisitor is busy interviewing the prisoner. Come back tomorrow. The guards tell him the same thing the next day, and the day after that, and finally Brother Peire asks to speak to the abbot.
"They won't let me see him," he explains. "I know we're not supposed to bother the inquisitor, and I would never presume that my work is more important than his - "
"Our work is equally important," the abbot interrupts. Brother Peire must look a little taken aback, because he adds "Pardon me, Brother Peire, continue."
"I just – Brother Abbot, I was, I was making progress. If you could call it that. I was starting to understand him. I know more now – I can help him better. But I have to see him."
"I was given to understand that we would be allowed some time with the heretic, either after the inquisitor's work or during a break. I will see what can be done."
"Thank you, Brother Abbot, thank you. May God bless you and all the works of your hands."
"And you, Brother, as well. I will try to speak to Ser Mayor tomorrow, and then the day after, you may try at the prison again."
And so Brother Peire appears at the prison two days later, bearing bread and water for Rainaut and a small egg pie for the guards - "This is not a bribe," Brother Aimeric whispers, "but they might appreciate a nice snack" - and this time they let him in.
Rainaut is lying on his back on the floor of his cell, one arm flung over his eyes and the other resting across his chest. The tiny window high up in the wall lets in a thin beam of sunlight, but it's enough for Brother Peire to see by. The guard shuts the cell door behind him. Brother Peire has brought a candle, which the guards grudgingly let him keep, because he remembers how dim it is in Rainaut's cell and how welcome a light must be.
"Go away," Rainaut mutters from under his arm. "I am not in the mood."
"It's me, Brother Peire." He puts the bread and water on the floor and sits down by Rainaut's leg. He's still holding the candle, afraid to put it down in case it falls over and goes out. "They wouldn't let me see you, but Brother Abbot talked to Ser Mayor and the guards finally let me in. I brought you something to eat and drink, and a candle."
Rainaut moves his arm and sits up slowly. He blinks at Brother Peire. "I wondered what happened to you. I thought your abbot might have accomplished whatever his goal was, so you didn't have to come visit any more."
Brother Peire doesn't know how to answer that, other than to say the very suggestion is offensive and insulting. But he's been taught to not be so confrontational, so he only says "The guards kept telling me the inquisitor was working and didn't want to be disturbed."
"That he was." Rainaut takes the water and gulps it down. "The first couple of days were just interviews and interrogations. He had me make my confession, which was so very simple – 'Do you confess to the sin of heresy?'" His voice drops an octave, no doubt imitating the inquisitor's deep, formal tones. "I asked him to define 'heresy'." He grins ruefully. "I don't think he liked that. So I said yes, I was a heretic, I practiced heresy, guilty as charged. They brought in the two men I was talking to in the marketplace, so they could swear under oath that I tried to convert them – which is a lie, by the way, and one of them admitted I did no such thing, that the three of us were just complaining, as people do in at market – they also brought in a couple of men I'd never seen, who swore that I tried to convert them as well, and a young woman, a butcher's wife, who claimed I stole a pair of rabbits from her shop. Just picked them up and ran off with them." He chuckles. "I laughed in her face. That was a mistake."
"What did he – the inquisitor – what did he do?"
"Beat the palms of my hands with a switch, as if I was a schoolboy who'd forgotten his lessons." He holds out his hands, palms up. They're striped red with fading welts. "Next is probably the bottoms of my feet."
"How are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you in much pain?"
Rainaut shrugs. "My hands don't hurt as much. Today was a little stretching and some very bright lights in my eyes. Last night I wasn't allowed to sleep more than an hour or two." He smiles. "Don't look so afraid for me. Now that it's started, I'm ready."
"How can you be so casual? You don't know what the inquisitor is going to do to you."
"I have a fair idea. He told me. I'm not the first heretic to die under torture, and I won't be the last. Your spiritual brothers and sisters died at the hands of people they were trying to convert, didn't they? It's not a new thing, to die for your faith. I just hope it doesn't take too long."
"Are you in such a hurry to die?" Brother Peire is appalled, and it must be obvious even in the flickering light of his candle and the dim light from outside, because Rainaut's face softens and he puts his hand on Brother Peire's knee.
"I'm not, no. I like my life. I want to keep it a little longer. But I don't have any illusions about what's going to happen to me. I can pray all I want, but as much as God might love me, I know what happens to people charged with heresy who don't recant."
"Rainaut...."
"I plan to hold out as long as I can. I'm a very stubborn man and I have no intention of giving the inquisitor or your holy Mother Church what they want. God might even bring me a miracle and the inquisitor will set me free."
"But your soul."
"My soul is in fine shape, my brother." He leans forward so he can take Brother Peire's hand. "I want you to come back tomorrow. It will give me something to look forward to when the inquisitor is yanking my arms out of their sockets."
"Please stop." Brother Peire's voice is shaky and quiet and he knows he should pull his hand away, but he can't bring himself to move it.
"I'm sorry. I have to joke, or I'll lose my mind. You understand, don't you? If I die, and I probably will, I'll go into the light for all eternity, as my reward for living a faithful life. But my community, we believe that our time on earth is a gift from God, and God wants us to enjoy it. So I'm not in any hurry to see that light." His eyes flick down to the candleflame, and he grins. "How considerate of you to bring a teaching aid."
"I just thought you might want a little more light."
"I know what you meant." Rainaut lets go of his hand. "I'm teasing you, friar, you should know that by now."
He really should, and he realizes that he actually likes it. He knows Rainaut doesn't mean any harm or insult, and his little jokes seem more affectionate than anything else. It's like they share a private joke.
"Brother Peire – are you blushing?"
"Am I?" Brother Peire ducks his head, embarrassed. Rainaut laughs.
"You are! No wonder your merchant's mother throws you interesting looks."
Brother Peire's head comes up and he stares at the heretic. "She's old enough to be my mother's mother! Even if I could be tempted - " How absurd, to think that Sers Aelinor might be interested in him the way women are interested in men. Now it's his turn to laugh. He realizes Rainaut is smiling at him. "What? Are you thinking of another joke?"
"In a way. But this is just a joke that God is playing on me. It's not actually that funny."
"Tell me. Please?"
"It's just funny that God should bring you to me under these circumstances, and that you should be a Gray Friar and I should be a... heretic."
"I don't understand."
"Think about it. You won't laugh, I can tell you that." He yawns. "This may be a ridiculous question to ask you, but I need to sleep, and if you're here I don't think the guards will bother me. Last night they kept coming in to yell at me and keep me up. Will you stay here until you have to go, even if I fall asleep? You can pray to your god for my immortal soul, I don't mind."
"I don't know how much longer I have." Eventually he'll have to leave for Sers Aelinor's house, where Brother Gueri will be waiting for him.
"I don't care." Rainaut lies back down, stretching out on the dirt floor. "Don't wake me when you leave."
"From what you said, the guards won't be very quiet."
"No, I guess not."
"Do you want me to put out the candle?"
"Only if you want to." Rainaut lifts his head. "Thank you for coming back."
"I thought we were friends," Brother Peire says, grinning. He can just see Rainaut's answering grin before the heretic puts his head back down, and after a minute or so Brother Peire can tell from his breathing that he's asleep.
Brother Peire folds his hands around the candle and sings, very quietly, one of the prayers from the evening service, the last service that the Gray Friars chant before bed. It's the kind of prayer that small children recite right before going to sleep, a short prayer of thanks to God for being allowed to see the end of another day, and a plea for the grace to see another morning.
And then he sits there and watches Rainaut sleep, and just as he did in the friars' chapel, he thinks and he prays. He wonders if in the heretics' chapel – if they even have a chapel – is an eternal flame hanging just inside the door, to welcome people to worship and to show them the light of God's love.
The guards make a great deal of noise when his time is up, waking Rainaut just as Brother Peire thought they would. They take the friar outside and suggest that tomorrow he come later in the day, because the inquisitor wasn't happy at having his work interrupted, and he can't make any progress in the heretic's case if he keeps having to stop. Oh, and if he could bring another pie, that would be much appreciated. Brother Peire only says that he'll mention it to the friar in charge of the kitchen.
It's not until the dusk service, as they friars' voices lift to heaven, that he realizes Rainaut called him brother. He knows this should bother him, that a heretic feels they're that close, but it doesn't seem wrong. In a way, he guesses, they are brothers – both religious men, even if their beliefs are different and Rainaut is walking the wrong path, but both men with a strong faith and a commitment to what each thinks is right. Rainaut is in prison, where he will likely die for his beliefs, but if circumstances were different and Brother Peire were the one in the cell, wouldn't he hold on to his faith and his God as well, and refuse to recant no matter how the inquisitor tortured him?
For the first time in his life, Brother Peire has a secret, and his secret is that he cares about a heretic. Not in the way that friars care about the people of Montagui, or the way a holy man is supposed to care about an apostate – not in the sense that he's concerned for Rainaut's soul, although he is, but in the sense that a person cares about his or her friends, for no other reason than because they're friends.
He cares for Rainaut the way he cares for Brother Gueri, or Brother Imbert, as an equal and a good man.
Please, God, he thinks, please save him, for my sake as well as his. Show him the light of Your mercy and bring him back to You. I don't want him to die.
words: 2929
total words: 12,156
