by Kevin Ashman
‘Thanks, Elora, I will,’ said Amber.
As soon as the woman had left, Amber crossed the corridor and knocked gently on Kenzo’s door. When there was no reply, she knocked again and eased the door open. At first her heart sunk when she couldn’t see him in the gloom, but to her great relief, finally saw him sitting at the table with his head in his hands.
‘Kenzo,’ she whispered, ‘thank God, I thought you weren’t here, are you okay?’
Kenzo looked up at his cousin, wondering if he should tell her the awful truth. He quickly decided that though she had a right to know, now wasn’t the time.
‘I’m fine,’ he said, ‘just a bit tired, you okay?’
‘My hand is a bit sore,’ she answered, ‘but apart from that I’m fine. Anyway, don’t worry about me, tell me what you found.’
‘Well, there’s certainly no way out,’ said Kenzo, ‘not that I can see anyway, but I have concerns, Amber. There’s something going on here that I don’t understand.’
‘Like what?’ asked Amber sitting on his bed.
Kenzo proceeded to tell Amber about what he had found, though leaving out his suspicions about the source of the Watcher’s meat.
‘So you think they feed our dead to the fish?’ asked Amber when he had finished.
‘I do,’ said Kenzo, ‘and we need to tell the council as soon as possible.’
Before Amber could answer, the door creaked open, revealing Elora and De-gill, both draped in their traditional jet-black cloaks.
----
‘De-gill,’ stuttered Kenzo, ‘what are you doing here? Why are you dressed like that?’
‘I think you know why we are here,’ said De-gill quietly, ‘and I am so disappointed in you.’
‘Disappointed, why?’
‘Because I like you, Kenzo,’ said De-gill, ‘and have done so since I first saw you on that Moon-day months ago, when I asked for your help to locate Crispin.’
‘But we haven’t done anything wrong,’ said Kenzo.
‘On the contrary, you tricked us and left the Sanctum to explore those areas where our invitation did not extend, seen things not for your eyes and opened wounds long since healed.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Amber, ‘all he did was try to find a way out. We didn’t want to bother you.’
De-gill looked at Kenzo over Amber’s head and when he saw the young man shake his head, realised that the soldier had not discussed the gory detail with his cousin.
‘Still,’ said De-gill, ‘there are secrets here that should, and will remain our business and to that end, we have to withdraw our hospitality, at least until this business with Crispin is over.’
‘What has Crispin got to do with this,’ asked Amber, ‘surely he is still in the Catacombs?’
‘There is more to Crispin than you realise,’ said De-gill. ‘He represents a great danger to Bastion and unless we can stop him, then this great city and the lives of those who survive his wrath will never be the same again.’
‘We know that he has changed,’ said Amber, ‘but despite this, he is still only one boy.’
‘He was a boy,’ said De-gill, ‘but in the last month he has developed into something that bears no resemblance to the person you once knew.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Kenzo.
‘I will share no more details,’ said De-gill, ‘there is still a chance that this situation can be retrieved and no one need ever know anything different.’
‘How?’ asked Kenzo.
‘With the death of Crispin,’ said De-gill. ‘Tomorrow is Moon-day and we can alert the council to the dangers. All the trades will combine our forces and enter the Catacombs to find the creature, over four hundred men, armed with spears and swords. If we are lucky and he is still weak, we may triumph, but if he has matured to his full potential, then it is too late for all of us.’
‘This is crazy,’ said Amber, ‘how can one boy be such a danger, it makes no sense?’
‘It makes total sense,’ said De-gill, ‘and in time all will be revealed, however, due to your
night time forays, we have no choice but to lock you in a secure place until this is over.’
‘But why?’ pleaded Amber. ‘We can look after ourselves and we don’t know anything
about your precious secrets. Do we Kenzo?’
When there was no answer, she turned to her cousin.
‘Kenzo?’
The young man and the Watcher were staring at each other in silence across the
room.
‘Kenzo, what is it?’ asked Amber, ‘what are you not telling me?’
‘Nothing that can’t wait,’ said Kenzo. ‘Do as he says, Amber, I promise you will be
okay.’
‘But…’
‘Amber,’ snapped Kenzo, ‘go with Elora. I need to talk to De-gill.’
The two women left the room, leaving the men behind.
‘You haven’t told her?’ asked De-gill.
‘No, so there is no need for her to come to any harm.’
‘What makes you think any of you are at risk of harm?’
‘I am not a stupid man,’ said Kenzo. ‘There is no way you can allow me to carry the news
of your atrocities to the council. The Citadel will turn against you and the other trade towers will storm this place. You will be cast from the walls of your own tower in disgust.’
‘Really?’ said De-gill quietly, ‘and what makes you think that they will be surprised by
the news?’
‘There’s no way they know about this,’ said Kenzo, ‘they can’t. What self-respecting human would stand by and allow you to get away with cannibalism?’
‘Cannibalism is a very strong word,’ said De-gill, ‘I like to think of it as economics.’
‘What on earth are you on about, economics?’
‘You have no idea, Kenzo,’ said De-gill. ‘Running a city as large as Bastion is a balancing act. The population is expanding and the Narwl harvest gets smaller each year. We are only one bad season away from starvation, and we need to nurture every source of protein we can, just to stay alive. When our loved ones die, their soul goes to heaven and what is left is no more than an empty shell made up of valuable resources that the city is desperate for. It would be collective suicide to discard such an ample and recurring source of protein to the sea.’
‘What do you mean the city?’ asked Kenzo. ‘Nobody in Bastion eats your cursed meat.’
‘Really? Tell me, Kenzo,’ said De-gill, ‘do you attend the Moon-day markets?’
‘Of course I do,’ said Kenzo, ‘everyone does.’
‘And do you ever partake of the Baker’s wares. The gravy filled pies, the juicy pasties, and the savoury cakes. Which is your favourite, Kenzo? Which one makes your mouth water on the night before Moon-day?’
‘No,’ said Kenzo, ‘you’re lying.’
‘And what about the meats from the Hunters, Kenzo? Yes there are Narwl steaks and Fish cakes and Crab sticks, but what about the sausages, the pates and the stews? What do you think is the main ingredient? Even you must have realised that they did not taste of that godforsaken fish that makes up the main diet of almost everyone in the Citadel.’
‘You are lying,’ shouted Kenzo, ‘you would never get away with it.’
‘Do you think so? Let me tell you, Kenzo, once, a long time ago, human meat was freely available in our markets. Our ancestors not only enjoyed it, but craved it. Tell me, what did you think of the skewers? Did you not enjoy them? Does your mouth not water even now at the thought? Don’t worry, Kenzo, this is not a failure on your part or anyone’s part. You can no more control what makes up your cravings than you can count the stars in the sky. It is not your fault, Kenzo, it’s nobody’s fault. It’s in your very make up. In every cell of every bone that makes up your body.’
‘Now you’re just talking rubbish.’
‘Am I Kenzo? From the very first cell that duplicated to form the embryo you once were, this need is i
nbred. It’s just that you have been ignorant of the facts, as have most people in Bastion. But not the council, Kenzo, we are aware of it and always have been. This is the secret of our race, Kenzo, a burden the ruling council carries with them and pass on to their successors.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Kenzo, ‘and even if it is true, why do you allow it to happen? Surely, there are other foods available; I would rather eat seaweed than human meat.’
‘But therein lies the problem, Kenzo, you have no choice. The Bakers, Farmers and Hunters, don’t supply the markets with the protein, as we prefer to call it, for profit, but necessity. We order them to do it.’
‘But why?’
‘Because the people need it.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Hundreds of years ago, the Council at the time decided enough was enough and stopped harvesting the protein. Within weeks, the population was ill and people died in the thousands. At first they thought it was just an ague, but eventually realised, it was the lack of human meat. The guild of science at the time discovered that our physiology had come to depend on the supply of human flesh. They immediately reintroduced the practise and the death rate stopped. Over the years, we have carried out many experiments on inmates from the Prison-tower, and have been proved right on every occasion. Withdraw the protein, and we die. It is as simple as that.’
‘But, if that is true, and the council knows this, why are you so keen to keep us here.’
‘Because only the council knows. The population don’t and if they did, then the reaction would be the same as yours. By the time we could explain, they would tear down this tower stone by stone without knowing the consequences. In effect, they would commit mass suicide.’
A long silence ensued eventually broken by Kenzo.
‘So, where does that leave us?’ he asked.
‘That depends on you,’ said De-gill. ‘You are an intelligent man and I believe I can trust you to keep this information to yourself. However, tomorrow is Moon-day and if I am wrong, your words alone can bring down this entire city. I do not mean you harm, but I cannot allow you back into the Citadel, at least not yet. There are other pressing things that we must deal with first.’
‘Crispin?’
‘Exactly and let’s not forget, if you had been successful in the task I gave you all those months ago, then neither of us would be here today. However, what is done is done and now we have to clean up the mess. You and your cousin will be held in one of our cells until it is over. Hopefully, by next Moon-day, everything will have calmed down and we can present you to the council to see for yourself that I am telling the truth. Don’t worry, you will be well looked after, but it is the best I can offer. The moon has remained in the sky and the water is already dropping. The next twenty-four hours are essential to the very survival of our species, so I can’t afford any interference from you. Now, if you don’t mind, we have to go.’
De-gill stood to one side and allowed Kenzo to leave the room and make his way down into the Sanctum. Amber was sitting on one of the couches, flanked by two of the women. As they passed, Amber and the women stood and followed them out. They exited into the courtyard, but to Kenzo’s surprise, turned left toward the external stairway leading up to the tower walls.
‘Are we not being taken down to the rooms below?’ he asked De-gill.
‘No, the cells are built in along the castelades,’ said De-gill. ‘They are airy but we will provide you with fire for warmth. Don’t worry, I’m sure that we can sort all this mess out and next Moon-day, you will be back with your families.’
Kenzo’s mind was working furiously. There was no way they could escape the tower via the tunnels but he also knew that he couldn’t stay here for another month. They made their way up onto the ramparts and toward the cell in the far wall. Suddenly, Kenzo had an idea, and called out to his cousin a few yards in front.
‘Amber!’
‘What?’
‘Do you remember your twelfth birthday?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Your twelfth birthday, do you remember what we did that got us into so much trouble?’
‘Yes but…’
‘No buts, Amber, we need to do it again.’
‘When?’
‘Now!’
‘But, Kenzo, it’s too dangerous.’
‘I know, but it’s a chance we have to take,’ he said, ‘our lives depend on it.’
‘Are you sure, Kenzo?’ said Amber.
‘I wouldn’t be saying this if I wasn’t,’ said Kenzo, grabbing her arm. ‘We can do this.’
‘Okay,’ she said, ‘quickly though, before I change my mind.’
‘Lose your cape,’ he said, ‘it will be too heavy.’
‘What are you doing?’ shouted De-gill, ‘guards, take them to the cells.’
‘Too late for that,’ shouted Kenzo as he scrambled up onto the castellations, closely followed by Amber. ‘Sorry De-gill, your explanations are just too convenient. There’s no way you would ever let us leave here alive.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ shouted De-gill.
‘Too late,’ shouted Amber, ‘time to go, goodbye, Mr Watcher.’ She turned to Kenzo, her heart racing with excitement. ‘Ready?’ she said, ‘on three; one, two, three…’
In total unison, the cousins launched themselves from the tower wall, arms and legs flailing in an effort to stay upright as they plummeted to the waters far below.
----
Chapter 26
Warden and Pelosus sat across the table from each other, both caught in the awkward silence.
‘So,’ said Pelosus eventually, ‘are you going to tell me about them?’
‘About what?’
‘The scrolls.’
‘Oh those? No, I don’t think I will,’ said Warden.
‘I don’t understand; you have all this knowledge. Why can’t you share it with me?’
‘You didn’t let me finish, Pelosus. What I was going to say was this. I won’t share the knowledge of the Courtesan scrolls, for that would be futile. Trust me there is nothing there but hearsay, rumour and fairy tales.’ He paused for a moment before continuing.
‘You seem a good man, Pelosus. We are both men of learning and I detect honesty about you. I have not walked the streets of Bastion since I was a boy and have now grown so old that even the memory escapes me. However, I am aware that there are things afoot that are difficult to understand. I have a lot of knowledge within this aged brain but as my days pass, I find things more difficult to process. My mind becomes muddled and often I forget what it was I was supposed to be doing. My days are coming to a close, Pelosus and all of a sudden, I have realised that when I am gone, all the knowledge I have teased from this secretive room, will once again be lost forever. If I allow that to happen, then what would be the point? My life enduring all these years of darkness would have been in vain. I can’t allow that to happen, Pelosus, my life has to be worth more than that. So no, I won’t share the contents of the Courtesan scrolls, for they are but meaningless drivel.’
‘However,’ he continued eventually, ‘I do have something else. Something so precious that no other person alive even knows it exists.’ He stood up and retrieved a scroll from a nearby wall, his fingers having counted along the row until he found the right one.
‘Open it,’ he said, handing the scroll to Pelosus.
The Stargazer did as he was told and read the words to himself.
‘It is the story of the Six-fingered Saint and the emergence of the Citadel from the waters,’ said Pelosus. ‘What is so different about this? Every child in Bastion knows the story.’
‘Exactly, but look on the reverse and tell me what it says.’
Pelosus turned the parchment over.
‘I can’t,’ he said, ‘it is in a language I don’t understand.’
‘That’s because it’s in the language of our ancestors,’ said Warden, ‘all the scrolls in this side of the room are written the same and nobody,
not even the Courtesans can read them.’
‘So how is this one important?’
‘At first, it confused me as it is the only scroll that has writing on both sides, then as I realised the implications, it was as if my sight was being returned. What if it was the same story?’
‘So what?’
‘Don’t you see? If that was indeed the case, then I had a direct translation, two sets of scripts saying exactly the same thing, and if I had that, I could directly compare some of the words of the ancients with those in our tongue. After that, it was relatively straightforward to replace the letters on the older scrolls with ones I could understand, and by the time I had finished, I could read the language of our ancestors.’
‘That is amazing,’ said Pelosus in awe, ‘it must have taken you a long time.’
‘Almost ten years,’ said Warden, ‘but worth every second, for as I got more expert in the translation, all these became available to me.’ He swung his arm in an arc indicating the scrolls on the older side of the room, ‘and let me tell you, Pelosus, the contents of these are not like the others within these walls, oh no. No fantasy or religious claptrap in these documents, these tell an entirely different story altogether.’
----
Pelosus let out a gasp of excitement. For most of his life he had suspected there was more to the histories than what they were taught and at last he was about to find out the truth.
‘First of all,’ said Warden, ‘you need to clear your mind of everything you know and everything you think you know. What I am about to say will be like nothing you have imagined and certainly nothing that any living eyes have ever seen. I want you to imagine a place where the sea is a mere fraction of its present size, there are no Citadels and there is land as far as the eye can see.’
‘I am familiar with the concept,’ said Pelosus.
‘Now imagine this land folded like the ripples of a thrown garment. Land that rises to enormous heights and dramatic low places, interspersed with endless plains and forests of growth. A place where plants the likes of which we can never imagine, grow in such abundance, that no amount of harvesting could ever deplete their numbers. Rivers of water run freely at the bottom of these valleys and creatures of untold diversity scurry amongst the undergrowth, making their way of life in a place of plenty.’