Canticle: A Novel

by Janet Rich Edwards

And how is he supposed to respond to her ecstasy? He doesn’t dare open his mouth for fear of what he might say, for fear that he might spew venom over the sill between them. He knows this is wrong. Envy is an error. A sin. He places his hands on the stone frame of the window, bends his head into the fabric of the curtain. She’s just on the other side. For a moment, he thinks he should confess to her. But the shepherd does not confide in the sheep. He turns away. When Lukas leaves the parlor, demons jump from the ledge to follow, keeping to the fringed shadows of the street. He glances at them and wonders that others can’t see the darkness trailing him. Hervé watches him with furrowed brow. Hervé puts extra rations in his bowl, observes that they go untouched. Hervé interrupts an argument between two young friars. Take that outside, he says, glancing at Lukas, who merely stares into the fire. “You’re not sleeping,” he says gently. There are demons in the night, Lukas wants to explain, but can’t, because he leads these men. He can’t speak of the fiends that crouch in the corners of the friary; how they whisper to each other in susurrus and go quiet when he looks at them. In the darkness, they slide between the cots, always toward him, toward him. He wakes with a start and knows he’s not dreaming. The ash stirs in the grate and orange eyes wink from the cinder. Hervé offers him wine and dishes of lamb. Lukas has no idea where he got such fare, what compromises he made to obta...