Inescapable Reality
He knew he was still alive since the men’s voices echoed faintly inside his throbbing head. Pain was stabbing him in the back of his neck and his muscles were stiff from a prolonged unconsciousness. He opened his eyes and blinked furiously, his eyesight adjusting to a brightly lit chamber with sunlight pouring from tall arched glass windows and a radiant glass dome above.
A small table occupied the middle of the room and a flimsy looking cupboard adorned the opposite wall. The two men that had attacked him were looking at him with what looked like cautious curiosity and apprehension. The bearded brute was standing up with his hands in his pockets and the man with the gruff voice was sitting down at the table. A beam of light partly obscured his face, while dust motes whirled silently in the air.
Hilderich lay in a small stone cot carved into the recess of a far wall. The cot felt uncomfortable and his body protested slightly to his efforts at moving. He flexed his arms and legs momentarily, and realized he was not bound or restrained in any way. Puzzlement showed on his face, and then the man who had bested him in the alleyway addressed him:
“You were out for almost a day. I am sorry we had to take somewhat extreme measures, but we had to make sure you disappeared properly. Giving us the run did not help, so we had to make it look like you were being mugged. Hence the terrible headache you must be having. I apologize for being rather rough,” the man’s voice gruff but genuinely polite, almost friendly. His words were followed by a faint smile and what seemed like a condescending nod.
“Dunno if that put any sense innim though,” the bearded man grumbled under his breath audibly enough, regarding Hilderich with a look akin to contempt.
“Philo.. Please,” said the man in the friendly voice who appeared to be the better of the brutish red-haired man, someone in authority of some sort.
Hilderich noted the brute’s name was Philo and watched him for a moment, as he made a snorting sound and then crossed his hands across his chest. He then leaned against a wall and quietened down, as the other man had requested. The polite man with the coarse voice continued:
“My friend here thinks you are somewhat dim and unforgivably naive for a place like Pyr. That remains to be seen. I think you will prove to be very useful indeed, no matter what the initial appearances suggest,” said the man, eyes level with Hilderich’s who was now sitting upright on the small cot.
“Who are you people? I thought you wanted to kill me, and be done for. You said you wanted to make it look like I was mugged? Why would you want to make me disappear? Why am I here?”, the look on Hilderich’s face was contorted with eyebrows that almost touched each other. His puzzlement was now even more evident than before.
“Again, I apologize. My name is Amonas and this, as you must know already, is Philo. Let’s leave it at that for now. There are things I can and things I cannot explain to you, at least for the time being. You had to disappear because you were at risk of being found by people with an agenda quite different than ours, one that you’d certainly have found to be at least disagreeable. Once I make myself clear you will understand our course of action was necessary for more significant reasons, as well as for your protection. Soon enough, you will need to reach a decision.”
“What kind of decision? Am I being threatened? You did not bind my hands. Am I being held as a prisoner? What exactly do you want with me?”
“You are in no way a prisoner. We just needed to talk to you in safety. Please, hear what I have to say first before you jump to any wrong conclusions and make up your mind in haste. It is a matter of grave importance, and it involves the keystone in your possession.”
Amonas’ tone carried a hint of pleading and urgency, his words almost becoming jarred against each other. At the mention of the keystone, Hilderich was left wide-eyed.
“Aye, we knew,” Philo added, casting a severe look upon Hilderich.
They knew? Since when? The thoughts kept rushing through his mind. What should he ask and what he might reveal that he should not troubled him. Was there indeed real danger here? Were they telling him the truth? Was he being safeguarded? He instinctively reached for the chain on his belt but it was not there. They had taken it. They had taken the keystone. Had he failed already? Was there a point to all this? His face took on an expression of silent horror, mouth frantically opening and closing without a sound coming out, like a fish out of the water, the spasms of death upon it.
Hilderich shouted in a trembling voice that could have been mistaken for a shriek:
“Give it back! Thieves! You are nothing but common thieves!”
He was standing upright now, his head frantically turning from Amonas to Philo and back, casting looks of urgent accusation, wide-eyed and tense. He regained a measure of self-control, and clasped his hands together as if pleading for mercy. He closed his eyes and said in a clear, level voice:
“Please. Give it back. It is not of any significant worth as a gem. I can pay you in good time, I can make arrangements. But please, give me back the stone.”
Hilderich had lied flat out to them for being able to arrange some sort of payment. Everything he owned he carried on his person and that much was the extend of his fortune. He hoped his bluff might work.
Amonas and Philo were exchanging dumbstruck looks with Hilderich’s outburst having caught them by complete surprise. When they both seemed to be trying to answer, all they could do was break into a hearty fit of laughter. Philo while still laughing, managed to speak:
“Thieves! And the.. ‘Please’? Listen to how that sounds, lad.”
Amonas cut in with a motion of his hand and took a beleaguered Hilderich by the arm. A calming, reassuring voice issued from his mouth:
“Fear not. We mean you no harm. We consider you a friend, and if you’d choose so, a brother as well. The keystone is safely with me, I have it on my person. Here,” and Amonas unclasped his cloak to reveal the keystone and chain safely tucked away in a pocket on his leather bodice, the chain firmly attached to a ringed metal belt.
The sight of the keystone calmed Hilderich somewhat, but he still seemed uneasy, willing to protest. His eyes darted around, a look of hurt feelings and pride in his eyes:
“What kind of friend hunts you down, knocks you out, and then robs you of your most valuable possessions?”
“Your new ones do, at least the first time around. Please, listen to me Hilderich. We know about what happened to your master. It pains me as well, I knew Olom personally.”
Amonas let that sink in a bit, recalling a few memories of his own, and then carried on:
“There is trouble brewing ahead in the Outer Territories. What happened that night at your curatorium was neither singular nor a chance event. The keystones from curatoriums around the Territories are being stolen, and sometimes curators try to put up a fight. In some cases, like yours and your master’s, there are deaths involved. The timing is too perfect to be a mere coincidence. We cannot yet ascertain exactly who is orchestrating this, but we have a pretty good idea.”
Amonas glanced sideways at Philo, who nodded knowingly.
“You knew my master? Do you have any proof of that? Who is ‘we’? Are you some sort of group? An organization? A cult? What is the Curatoria doing about this? I wouldn’t like to attract your ire, but I can’t exactly think a man who kidnaps people to ‘have a talk’ as trustworthy.”
Hilderich showed his distrust even by the creases in his forehead. The people in front of him indeed seemed to him to make little sense and what he had heard so far felt very thin indeed.
“I knew him and loved him dearly. I’ll show you proof if that’s what will gain us your trust, soon enough. We are not a cult, Hilderich. We might be many things, but a cult we’re not. You could call us a group, perhaps. We call ourselves Kin. Or Brotherhood of Old. Or Old-folk. We come by many names. Some help us stay hidden, some help us raise support. Your support, for instance.”
Hilderich’s face looked incredulous at best, righ
t on the edge of laughing in disbelief:
“You want my support? And this is how you go about asking people for their support? Ganging up on them in the middle of the street? Support for what? Clubbing more people in the head?!”, Hilderich’s tone emphasised how incredulous this all seemed to him. Philo seemed especially displeased with his tone and remarks, while Amonas stayed calm and resolute, determined to make his point.
“We want your support in order to claim back our lands, overthrow the tyranny of the Castigator and expose the hateful lie that is Pantheon.”
Amonas words came out like the rush of an unstoppable river, ready to wash away everything that might dare to stand in its path. He sounded earthly solid and unyielding, utterly determined and deadly serious. Hilderich was too impressed to actually register what the man had just said.
“Well, that is.. Did you just.. But, that’s heresy! And high treason!”
Hilderich almost stammered the words aloud, unable to contain his shock, while Amonas replied in kind:
“Heresy is nothing but the leash that binds our blind brethren. Treason is the act of paying tribute to false gods, letting our Kin of Old fade like ghosts with nothing left for them to haunt..”
Amonas was in an instant transformed in Hilderich’s eyes. What seemed like a calm, reasonable person, yet mysterious, shady and quite incredulous, had given its place to a fiery zealot of some sorely misguided cult of heretics. Hot embers seemed to have replaced his eyes, burning with the mindless passion of a fanatic with an untenable goal.
Hilderich wasn’t sure of what to say to such a man, but he settled for what felt like the truth of things:
“You must be out of your mind then. Deranged. Or just very misguided. But no.. You would have to be crazy for all that to run through your head without it bursting at the seams.”
Amonas was grinning with a faint smile now:
“Am I Hilderich? Or is it you that has been played like a fool? Like I had been before I saw the truth, and felt the righteousness of our cause? Like Philo was when he was still a killer for hire? It is shocking, I admit it. But by the end of the day, I promise you you’ll see the truth of things as well. If you place any value in it, you will be given sight and hearing anew, and you’ll be ready to decide for yourself. We can become brothers, or remain simply friends on separate paths.”
“You seem too confident in what you say, and maybe you are a special breed of crazy. But I cannot even begin to imagine how you can prove that these aren’t the ramblings of a madman, that Gods forbid, our religion is a lie. I must confess, I find some of the Castigator’s and the ministers decisions and punishments harsh and unfitting, but I dare not judge their wisdom, or the Law as we have been taught. It is one thing to doubt the people that uphold the Law, and quite another to judge what is Holy Law, inviolate and heaven-sent.”
Hilderich was now exuding an air of authenticity and oratory skill, dressed with a rarely exhibited confidence, expressing an almost staunch belief. He looked like he knew he was right, and Amonas wrong.
Amonas grin would not go away when he nodded to Hilderich with a motion of his head and then looked up to meet a well-nigh defiant gaze. He told him in his hoarse, steady voice:
“The seed of doubt is already sown in your soul, Hilderich. Tonight it shall spring to bear fruit at last. It is a good sign, for I believed you would be too unwilling to see the truth, but this may yet prove not to be the case.”
“I still think you are madmen. Suppose it is true, that the Law and the Gods are a lie? What then? If everything we’ve ever believed in is a lie, what will the people do? Where will they turn to? If you, for the case of argument, succeed in your purpose, with what will you replace everything that gives sense and purpose to our lives every day? Do you plan to overthrow the Castigator, and the army and all the nobles who will stand against you by mere force of conviction? Or perhaps you cherish a fantasy where all but a few will join your cause, and no blood will be spilled in the inescapable day of triumph?”
“You are more of a thinker than I had believed, Hilderich. Above all, you seem a man of logic. Your questions will be answered in due time. A bit of patience will go a long way. And in any case, we can’t allow you to leave just yet, not before you witness what will invariably change your opinion, for better or for worse. You will come around to see that we are not crazy, and that we know that chaos and mayhem will erupt once we decide the time has come to act. I have no fantasies and will bear no misgivings: blood will be spilled inevitably, but not in vain. These are not the endeavors of bloodthirsty warmongers or power-hungry dissidents, Hilderich. We are hope incarnate, nothing more and nothing less.”
“Hope incarnate? Doesn’t that sound a bit presumptious? You certainly seem to lack modesty as well as sanity.”
Hilderich’s mocking tone was destined for an insult. His remark made Philo move and fidget with suppressed anger, shooting pleading looks at Amonas, clearly intent at putting the audacious little man in his place through the use of some non-crippling violence. Amonas would have none of that though and dismissed Philo’s silent protests with an outstretched hand, replying in a serious and honest tone of voice to Hilderich:
“I can only force you to remain until my promise to you is kept, until I make you see. I need your help Hilderich, I need to know things that have been kept in the dark for too long. Olom was getting close, too close perhaps. I need you to make sense of what I cannot, Hilderich. If what I show you does not seem worthy of your time, then you can freely go your own way if you like. But the keystone has to remain with us.”
“So this is not so much of an offer, as it is a blackmail. I can go, but the keystone stays with you? And you ask me to trust in you under these conditions? Tell me in earnest, would you think any differently if you were in my spot?”
“I have been in a similar spot like you and no, I did not think differently. That is why I believe you’ll be our brother by the first light of dawn tomorrow.”
Amonas smiled heartily for Hilderich to see, but the young curator’s expression remained distant and withdrawn.
“You place too much on mere belief and court with arrogance, Amonas. I don’t like all of this one bit. But it seems that I am at your mercy, for better or worse. Would you have me trying to wrestle my freedom and the keystone out of your hands? Whatever I may think of you, I’m no fighter and you seem to know that as well. I have no real choice in the matter, do I?”
“You will prove more valuable and insightful than I had imagined, Hilderich. It is exactly that false belief and that vaunted arrogance that we seek to expose, and since you place no value in those, I consider you a brother already, a man free of those poisons.”
“We shall see, but don’t bet on it.”
Hilderich sat down on the cot once again, hands on his knees, seemingly resigned to his fate. He had tried to make a stand, send out a message that he would not succumb to such underhanded tactics. If not in essence, at least as a matter of principle.
“I am not a gambling man Hilderich, you need not worry. There is still some time ahead of us. You must be famished. Would you like to have something to eat? I know we have been less than welcoming so far, but the circumstances got the better of us. Please, indulge us.”
Hilderich pondered this for a while and in his mind dismissed the idea that the food might be poisoned. If they had wanted him dead, they wouldn’t have bothered with all these theatrics. It seemed somewhat of a concession to the man effectively holding him captive, but the inescapable reality of not having eaten for more than a whole day struck home in the end. He nodded in acknowledgement and then added verbally:
“That would be sort of nice.”
Amonas smiled politely and told Philo to get some food and water for the three of them. Promptly the brutishly large man vanished behind a rather small wooden door, his steps faintly audible as he climbed down a wooden staircase.
“I’m told our most hospitable friends here have prepared a delicacy today:
lamb stew with uwe and knop leaves. Should be rather tasty.”
“I still think you are crazy, Amonas. Just a very strange and mysterious kind of crazy person, apparently with a culinary taste to match.”
“Hilderich, I confess, I have a soft spot for uwe. It’s an acquired taste, I know.”
Hilderich just shook his head in disbelief, a small sigh escaping his lips. Amonas smiled ever more broadly at that particular reaction, and pretty soon the strong smell of boiled uwe wafted through, hinting at Philo’s return. Amonas seemed rather expectant, and could not help asking Hilderich:
“If you don’t like uwe I believe a different arrangement can be made. Perhaps some ham or bread-pie.”
“Uwe lamb stew will be fine. I can manage.”
Hilderich caught himself being actually irritated at Amonas’ inexplicable insistence on food, which he found rather childish, further enhancing his opinion that the man was indeed deranged, if not outright mad.
“Oh well, I had to try and steal that extra serving.”
Philo returned and entered through the door with some difficulty due to the fact he was trying to balance two plates of stew on his left hand and arm and a large bowl held with his right hand. He precariously managed to reach the safety of a nearby table putting the bowl down first, and then unloading the plate off his left arm. Seeing that no one cared to assist him he threw around a few looks of mixed hurt and mild anger, before pulling a chair and sitting at the table and then proclaiming:
“If you gonna join the table be quick about it.”
Amonas sat excitedly in front of the bowl of stew, and Hilderich guessed the other plate was laid out for him and sat accordingly, but couldn’t help noticing and asking:
“Shouldn’t there be another plate for Amonas?”
Amonas had already dug in with a spoon, and seemed quite indifferent at anything else that went on around him and rather focused at enjoying his substantially rich meal.
“No point in using a plate if he’s gonna eat a whole bowl. So I brought the bowl. Now, eat.”, Philo said with a hint of retired disapproval.
Hilderich nodded slowly, shrugged and dug in like the others. He took a careful taste, and then started munching and gulping down large chunks of stew eagerly. It tasted delicious indeed.
Forge of Stones Page 10