Chapter 8

“Come on, Thedrick, she’s sure to like you,” Beowulf reassured desperately, though the jester continued to pout, his arms remaining crossed over his chest.

“Wulfy… people generally don’t like me, like, I seem to have that effect,” Thedrick explained, lifting one arm slightly to gesture with it.

“But I promised her I would bring you to meet her, don’t make me let her down,” Beowulf argued, giving Thedrick another beseeching look.

Thedrick frowned, then sighed in defeat. “Fine!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “But if it goes badly, I get to say I told you so.”

“It’ll be fine, now come on, let’s go,” Beowulf encouraged, stooping over slightly to take one of the jester’s small hands and pulling on it gently to try and get him moving. Thedrick made a sound of annoyance, but then allowed himself to be pulled out of his bedroom by the soldier, who started leading him down the castle halls.

They wove their way through the castle corridors, Beowulf having to walk slowly so that Thedrick could keep up with his much shorter legs. Beowulf had to fight the urge just to scoop the little guy up and carry him. Not that Thedrick ever complained when he did that, but it probably wasn’t fun to be manhandled all the time.

Soon they were heading out the front gates of the castle, getting the usual dirty looks from the guards on duty. Beowulf hadn’t really endeared himself to the other soldiers when choosing to side with and protect the jester, but he also didn’t really care what they thought, and they could fight him about it if they wanted to.

The pair made their way through the town until they reached the house which was their destination. Beowulf stepped up to the door and knocked, Thedrick hanging back and hiding behind him somewhat, looking nervous.

The door opened and a round female face appeared in the opening. She had soft features like Beowulf’s, with steely blue eyes and ash blonde hair pulled back in a bun. She was looking up at Beowulf with slight surprise, before her lips pulled into a smile, eyes creasing in the corners.

“Beowulf!” she exclaimed in delight, reaching up towards him. Beowulf leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, while she pulled off his helmet and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello ma,” Beowulf said with a smile of amusement as his mother fussed over his face.

“What brings you here?” his mother asked him in slight confusion. “Are they not feeding you well enough at the castle, do you need some more home cooking?”

“Can’t I just want to see you ma?” Beowulf asked with a chuckle as she pulled away and looked up at him, handing him back his helmet. “Also, I brought the friend I was talking about,” he explained, stepping to the side slightly to gesture towards Thedrick behind him.

“Ma, this is Thedrick,” Beowulf explained. The jester’s whole body stiffened, and he waved and smiled awkwardly at Beowulf’s mother.

“Thedrick, this is my mother, Oriana,” Beowulf continued, gesturing back towards his mother. He faltered though, slightly surprised by the look he saw on his mother’s face as she stared at the jester. She looked completely shocked; eyes wide and mouth almost falling open. It was certainly a stronger reaction that Beowulf had been expecting, considering the last time he had visited he had described Thedrick to her so she should have known what to expect, even though his appearance was strange.

“Ma, are you alright?” Beowulf asked, cocking his head to one side slightly. Oriana seemed to snap herself out of her stupor and frowned.

“Ah, yes, sorry, everything is quite alright. My apologies, your strange appearance just caught me a little off guard,” she said in a light-hearted manner towards Thedrick, but her expression didn’t match her tone. She seemed almost… worried. “Now, why don’t you two hurry up and come on inside and I’ll get you something to eat, hrm?” she quickly turned and disappeared into the house, clearly expecting them to follow her.

Beowulf looked back at Thedrick, who looked a little shocked himself. Beowulf frowned and gave him an apologetic look, before gesturing for him to follow him into the house. Beowulf had to duck under the doorframe to get in, before glancing back to check that the jester was still behind him. Thedrick stepped into the house and looked around uncertainly, appearing to be rather on edge.

“Well come along now, take a seat,” Oriana said from the kitchen area which Beowulf was leading Thedrick towards. Beowulf pulled out a chair at the dining table and gestured for Thedrick to take a seat, and the little man complied hesitantly. Then Beowulf took a seat himself, setting his helmet down on the table next to him, and then watched as his mother disappeared into another room for a moment. Thedrick gave Beowulf an anxious look, and the soldier tried to give him a reassuring smile in return.

Soon Oriana reappeared carrying a large pie, which she set down in the middle of the table and took a large knife to start to cut it into pieces. “You’re in luck that this one didn’t sell this afternoon,” she said as she placed slices of pie on some plates, setting them down in front of the lads.

“Is dad out?” Beowulf asked as his mother took a seat, very clearly making her best effort not to stare at the jester. Thedrick was looking down at the piece of pie in front of him with what could only be described as very thinly veiled dismay.

“Ah, yes dear, he’s off to the store houses to try and sort out an incorrect order of supplies that were delivered this morning,” Oriana explained casually, consuming a piece of pie to seemingly distract herself. Beowulf was becoming more and more suspicious of her strange behaviour. Surely Thedrick wasn’t that strange looking to warrant this sort of response?

“Ah, his suppliers do always seem to be rather unreliable, unlike yours,” Beowulf commented before eating a piece of pie himself. His mother ran the butchery, while his father was a baker, using her meats to craft delicious pies and other savoury pastries. Beowulf glanced over at the silent Thedrick, who was poking his piece of pie with a fork.

“Oh, actually, my dear, there is something I must discuss with you about your father… though alone, if you wouldn’t mind?” Oriana suddenly said as she stood up from her chair and gestured to a door to another room.

Beowulf looked up at her in surprise and grew concerned by the serious look he saw on her face. “Alright,” he said uncertainly after swallowing another mouthful and got to his feet. “Sorry, Thedrick, we’ll be back in a moment, have some pie in the meantime,” Beowulf encouraged the confused looking jester, before following his mother out of the room. She led him through the house until they were in the bakery, well out of earshot of Thedrick.

”What’s this all about?” Beowulf asked with concern as he followed her. “Is there something wrong with dad?” he continued as his mother stopped then turned to face him.

“No, no there’s nothing wrong with your father,” she assured as she looked up at him with wide eyes. “Look, Beowulf, I don’t know how to tell you this… but your friend…” she paused with hesitation.

“What? What about Thedrick?” Beowulf asked with rising apprehension, searching his mother’s face for answers.

“He’s a… a vampire!” she finally exclaimed, her calm facade dropping to show her anxiety clearly.

Beowulf blinked down at her in confusion, silent for a moment. “Wh… what do you mean, ma?”

“I have seen him before! Caught him in my storeroom several times, clinging to hanging cattle carcasses while draining their blood! Red eyes glowing in the dark!”

Beowulf’s mouth was hanging open with shock at these claims, wide eyes staring down at his mother. “Why… why would you say this? You… you must be mistaken…” he attempted to argue back.

Oriana shook her head, her mouth set in a firm line. “I am not making this up Beowulf. Your friend, currently sitting out there, is a blood sucking creature of the night! I am sure of it,” she stated with conviction. “Why don’t you think he’s eating any of the delicious pie I served up? He’s so thin, you think he would jump at such a meal!”

“B-B-But… I baked him a pie myself and he ate some!” Beowulf exclaimed while gesturing desperately, his brows furrowed.

“How much did he eat of it?” Oriana asked firmly.

Beowulf took in a breath to answer, but then paused. “… only a few mouthfuls…” he eventually said, the gears in his mind beginning to turn.

“Probably just to trick you into thinking he’s a normal human, he probably threw it up later!” she pressed determinedly.

“No… no this can’t be right! You’re acting crazy ma. He can’t be a monster, because… because…” Beowulf swallowed a lump forming in his throat.

“Because you’re in love with him?” Oriana said with a frown and a raised eyebrow.

“H-How did you know that?” Beowulf said weakly, frowning back at her.

“Oh please. Anyone could tell from the way you talk about him,” she said dismissively while rolling her eyes. “If you are too lovestruck to believe me, fine. But you’ll know I was right when he suddenly turns on you and tries to feed off you.” She placed one hand on each hip and glowered up at her son, chin raised defiantly.

“But… he’s so small and weak, he’s not dangerous at all…” Beowulf said softly, still reeling in disbelief of his mother’s claims.

“They say vampires can use special magic to overpower human’s minds, sedating them so they can feed,” Oriana explained. “But if you don’t want to end up as a bloodless corpse on the floor, we can take care of this problem quickly and quietly, right here and now,” she reached under her apron and pulled out a sharpened wooden stake, holding it out towards Beowulf.

Beowulf recoiled from the offering. “N-No ma! I’m not going to kill Thedrick just because you claim he’s a vampire!” Beowulf exclaimed, pushing the offered stake away. “In fact, I don’t believe you! I think you just don’t like him and are trying to scare me away from him!”

Oriana sighed, allowing the hand holding the stake to fall to her side. “Don’t be so stupid, boy. I’m trying to protect you, as always.”

“I don’t need your protection anymore ma, I’m a royal guard now, I can take care of myself!” Beowulf snapped, and then quickly turned and walked away, back into the house towards the kitchen. He could hear his mother's footsteps and the swish of her skirt as she hurried after him but didn’t turn to look back at her.

As Beowulf strode towards the table Thedrick startled, twisting around to look at him, face filling with fear as he saw the angry soldier coming towards him.

“Come on, Thedrick, we have to leave now,” Beowulf said firmly, trying to keep his voice steady, while he grabbed up his helmet and put it on. He saw Thedrick looking at Oriana, who was standing a few steps behind Beowulf, and when he glanced back at her he could see her expression was one of anger, just like his own.

“What’s going on?” Thedrick asked in an anxious high-pitched voice as Beowulf grabbed his arm and lifted him out of his chair, setting him down on his feet. The piece of pie on the plate in front of where he had been sitting remained untouched.

“Doesn’t matter,” Beowulf all but growled, and pulled the smaller man by the arm towards the exit, causing the jester to nearly trip and fall over several times. He dragged Thedrick out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him without even turning back to look at his mother again.

Once they were out on the street, Beowulf released Thedrick’s arm from his vice grip, and Thedrick caught his balance before instantly placing his own hand over the spot Beowulf had grabbed, wincing in pain. The anger suddenly fell away from Beowulf’s face as he turned back to the jester, looking down at him with concern.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” the words tumbled from his mouth, edged with desperation.

“I… I’m okay,” Thedrick claimed as he rubbed his arm gently, forcing a half smile as he looked up at the soldier. “What… what was all that though?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Beowulf dismissed in a tone which brooked no argument.

“A-alright…” Thedrick said unsurely. “Since it went bad, do I get to say I told you so?” he asked with weak humour.

“… I would prefer it if you didn’t,” Beowulf said in defeat, shoulder’s slumping slightly.

Thedrick just shrugged, and started walking off up the street, still clutching his arm worryingly. Beowulf started following him, his mind spinning from the interaction with his mother.

****

Beowulf has been assigned to the late interior patrol of the castle; a duty he wasn’t exactly fond of given he still couldn’t shake his fear of the dark. Though usually the halls of the castle were relatively well lit by wall sconces at all times of the night, as a part of the security.

However, as Beowulf turned down one hallway, he found that it was dark, the wall sconces unlit. It was possible that it had been overlooked or forgotten earlier, as it was a less frequented hallway. Beowulf held out his own torch he carried on night patrol, though the flickering flame didn’t reach very far into the blackness. He swallowed his apprehension, and started making his way down the hallway, looking out for the first wall sconce. He soon found it and used his own torch to light it. He continued down the hallways, planning to do the same with the rest of the sconces to fully illuminate the hallway.

However, Beowulf was stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a strange red glow in the pitch darkness ahead of him. His heart leapt into his throat, and he peered down the hallway, trying to make out the source of the light. Steeling himself, he took a few slow steps towards it, keeping his eyes on the glow. Then he almost jumped out of his skin when he realised it was a pair of glowing red eyes.

“Wh-Who goes there?” Beowulf called out, failing not to sound afraid. Then the glowing eyes started coming towards him and he recoiled, though despite wanting to run, he found his feet stuck in place.

“It’s just me!” a familiar voice called out, and Beowulf watched in shock as the light of his torch finally illuminated the pale skin of Thedrick’s face as the jester came closer. Beowulf stared at the little man in horror as he approached, the jester’s expression appeared happy and relaxed in comparison, obviously unable to see the look on Beowulf’s face as it was covered by his helmet.

“Th-Thedrick?” was all he managed to get out of his constricted throat as the jester approached casually. Beowulf was staring at Thedrick’s red eyes, which were now just reflecting the torchlight rather than glowing ethereally.

“Yeah, don’t you recognise me, big fella?” Thedrick asked with slight confusion, stopping in front of the soldier and looking up at him with his hands planted on his thin hips, raising one white eyebrow.

Beowulf shook his head to try and snap himself out of it, blinking rapidly. Had he really seen what he just thought he saw? “No, of course I recognise you Thedrick, I’m sorry, I was just surprised to see you out and about so late,” he lied as explanation. “What are you doing out here?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh, you know, the usual, annoying Baz, stretching my legs,” Thedrick said casually as he made some stretching motions. Beowulf had finally managed to pull his gaze away from Thedrick’s eyes, only to have something else grab his attention: a smear of something red near the jester’s mouth.

“You uh… have something on the corner of your mouth…” Beowulf said quietly, pointing at Thedrick. Thedrick gave him a slightly tilted head look of confusion, before reaching up to touch the spot, pulling his hand back to look at the red stain that was now on his white glove fingertip. His eyes widened slightly.

“Oh, ahahaha, that’s just some berry juice, you know, from some berries I was sharing with Baz earlier,” he quickly dismissed, avoiding eye contact with Beowulf.

“Right… of course…” Beowulf responded uncertainly. “Well, while I’d love to hang around and chat, I have to get back to my patrol, you know how it is. So, I hope you have a nice night, Thedrick,” Beowulf said in a stiff, overly formal manner.

“Oh, likewise! I hope I’ll see you on the morrow!” the jester said happily, giving him a wave before stepping around him and continuing down the hallway, before disappearing around a corner.

Beowulf swallowed deeply as he watched him go, before turning back to face down the darkness along the rest of the corridor. His mind was suddenly drawn back to everything his mother had said again. He took in a deep breath, before continuing down the hallway, lighting the wall sconces on his way, while trying to make sense of everything in his head.

Human eyes didn’t glow in the dark. Had that been blood in the corner of Thedrick’s mouth? Had he just come back from feeding on someone? Was Oriana actually correct in her claim? Was the jester really a vampire?

Beowulf needed to know the truth. But if he just asked Thedrick, he’d surely deny it. No, he had to figure out some other way to prove it, something more subtle.