Drakon Omnibus

by C. A. Caskabel

  Da-Ren had moved to the windows as well, but he chose the third arched window, the one far away from us. It was the one that had a clearer view of the southern harbor. He was standing all alone, staring at the blue.

  “I guess you’ve seen starlings before, in Sirol,” I said.

  “Yes. And I’ve seen that ship before,” he said pointing to a speck that was approaching the harbor, growing larger with every breath.

  “Is that…”

  “Agathon!” Da-Ren cried.

  “Agathon?” shouted Baagh, diverting his attention toward our window. “He is a day early!”

  “Better early than late,” said Zeev.

  “We’ll finish your story later tonight, Da-Ren,” said Baagh. “I must speak with Agathon right away.”

  “You did a good job, reading. One more chapter, Eusebius,” said Da-Ren as we ran down the stairs to the courtyard.

  “Yes, the one Baagh has been waiting for; the suitable ending that completes the tale. Do you think they cared about your adventures? I couldn’t watch their faces as I was reading. But I didn’t see awe or disgust.”

  “Yeah, they cared a great deal for the Witches, Darhul, the Final Battle, God’s victory, the Drakon’s demise and all that. Not for the tales of love and the kisses. They are men of God; they feed on the dead and the doomed.”

  “I still don’t understand why you think those monks can help you.”

  “I figured they wouldn't, long before they got here,” he answered.

  “Then?”

  “You helped me. Finish the reading tonight, Eusebius, we must complete the circle. And who knows? One thing I learned from the Sieve that is still true and you should know it too: what the last day brings a whole life will not.”

  “We must get some bread,” I said. “Ananias baked it fresh this morning. Let’s go find him.”

  “And wine,” said Da-Ren. “We’ll need it tonight.”

  Agathon and a couple of his crew had made it up to the courtyard already, and the monks had gathered around them. The faces of the monks had turned gloomy. Some were shouting, some crossing themselves, the older ones were arguing, and the younger ones were running back to the buildings. I stopped Nathan.

  “What is going on?” I asked.

  “Pirates. They’re coming,” said Nathan.

  “How many?” Da-Ren asked.

  “More than you can fight, young man,” said Agathon who still hadn’t recognized Da-Ren, even though he was only a few feet away.

  “A drunk seaman once told me that these are the waters of the sea nymphs—the scaled temptresses. Pirates never come here for they fear the sea drakons will suck the life from their marrow. That’s what he told me.”

  Agathon pushed away the monks who surrounded him and walked up to us. He looked at Da-Ren from head to toe a few times.

  “Is that really you? No wonder! And Evagus. A gathering of the damned!” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “We have to get off this Hieros hell hole now!” he said.

  “How do you know that they will come here?” asked Baagh.

  “They raided the Hollow Island, south from here, two days ago,” said Agathon. “We barely escaped.”

  “They could go any other way.”

  “No, I saw survivors on Hollow Island, they’d come from the islands farther south. They’re pirates of the south, the fierce ones, and they raid the rich islands one by one. I fear you’re next,” said Agathon. “Tomorrow morning, I set sail, whether you come with me or not.”

  “But this island is not rich. Have you seen those peasants?” said Da-Ren.

  Most of the monks looked at each other and then at him silently. There were some secrets that we were sworn to keep from the ears of all unbelievers or younger monks, secrets of gold.

  “They’ll come here. It is not the first time. This is the richest island monastery until Thalassopolis. Everyone knows that,” said the First Elder.

  Even I hadn’t been allowed close to the hoard of gold.

  “It’s only one pirate ship, but the biggest I’ve ever seen,” said Agathon.

  “We leave tonight. Let’s start loading immediately,” said the First Elder.

  “Load what? I can only take a few of you. Twenty at most.”

  “We’re thirty monks here. And we must take the gold,” said the First Elder.

  Da-Ren cut in.

  “Do you have a lot of gold?” No one spoke in the beginning. “Come on, we don’t have time.”

  “More than anyone would guess,” said the First Elder. “The Castlemonastery has always been impregnable. Many others have brought their treasures here.”

  “This is the same ship you had back when I met you in Antia, Agathon,” said Da-Ren. “You told me back then that it can carry a hundred and fifty men.”

  “Yes, but it will sail slower than a stone,” he said. “I wouldn’t put more than fifty in there even if—”

  “If what?” said Da-Ren. “If it was life and death? Because it is.”

  “We must mend the boat tonight. It took water for the last two days, and we barely made it. Must do it tonight. But with fifty men it won’t make speed. The pirates will get us.”

  “How many down there?” asked Da-Ren pointing toward the peasant settlement.

  “You’re not serious,” said the First Elder.

  “How many?”

  “Don’t know. Sixty came to the Celebration of our Lord last month.”

  “Eighty then. A hundred is what you must carry, Agathon. Men, women, and children,” said Da-Ren.

  “And the monks too?” asked Agathon.

  “Fuck the monks; I don’t care about them.”

  “You’re not serious,” said the First Elder. His face had turned the purple of ripe eggplants.

  “I am not,” Da-Ren smirked, looking at me. “We’ll save you too. Even if your god won’t.”

  Fire and iron had come to the Castlemonastery. Suddenly Da-Ren was the only man whose opinion mattered, the one all eyes and ears were following.

  Da-Ren took me away from all other ears. We went up the castle stairs and reached the round western tower above the main cedar gate. Two holybirds were perching on the salt-eaten battlements a few paces away. They were small enough to fit in my fist. Their heads and wings were covered in shiny black plumage, but their backs and their breasts were a soft rose color, and so were their feet and beaks.

  “Not much of a divine sign those holybirds,” said Da-Ren.

  “What are we to do? Can you help us?” I asked him.

  He put his arm around my head and asked:

  “Tell me, Eusebius, the truth, for the first and final time. Do these sorcerers here know how to defeat death? Do they know the secret of eternal life?”

  I could begin explaining the deeper meaning, the allegory of God’s word. But there was no time for that. I shook my head in disappointment.

  “So, as I guessed, they don’t. You see, Eusebius, I told you. What the last day brings…”

  Da-Ren ran down the stairs and walked back to the crowd. He asked Agathon loudly enough for all to hear:

  “Can we stop them?”

  Agathon looked around him at the frail and elderly monks and sneered.

  “You can’t fight them; I can’t outsail them.”

  “Then here is what we do,” sighed Da-Ren. “How fast can you sail out of here?”

  “Tomorrow, late morning. I told you, I must make repairs, load, it won’t be at the first light. Around noon if I’m lucky.”

  “How about now?”

  “Nah, not even with twenty men.”

  “Damn you, old fool! You leave me no other way.” Da-Ren paced around the courtyard a couple of times. Baagh followed him, and they exchanged words. They both shook their heads as if they were strongly disagreeing. I couldn’t understand who was trying to convince whom. When they came back Baagh said:

  “We have a plan.” His words brought more hope than the look on his face. He lowered his head, bit hard o
n his lower lip and let Da-Ren speak.

  “Here is what we’ll do, Elder,” said Da-Ren. “If we see the pirate ship approaching before noon, then we can’t all go. Those who can fight must stay here. Polish all the iron you can find, blades, shields, cooking pots. And we light all torches. We must make the pirates think that we are defending the gold. Lure them up here. The weak, the women, the children, will get on Agathon’s boat and sail out west.”

  “To Foleron!” said Baagh. “It is close by, but pirates never go there. It is deserted.”

  “Will that work?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Only thing I can think,” said Da-Ren.

  “The monks leave too,” said Baagh. “We can’t fight anyway.”

  “And the gold,” said the First Elder. “It was entrusted to us, and we must prove worthy. It belongs to the Holy Church.”

  “I thought the children belong to the Holy Church too,” said Da-Ren.

  “We don’t have time for this, Da-Ren,” said Baagh.

  “The children first, then the peasants, then the gold, and finally as many monks as we can fit,” said Da-Ren. “And the manuscript,” he said pointing at me. “Nothing else. Do you carry goods, Agathon?”

  “Be damned if I don’t. We’re a merchant boat. Baskets, millet, olive oil. All my wealth!”

  “Good, I need the oil; we’ll use the sacks and the barrels to block the gate,” said Da-Ren.

  “Why would I agree to that?” asked Agathon.

  “I didn’t ask you to agree,” said Da-Ren. “But he’ll make you rich,” he said pointing to the First Elder. “I will stay here tomorrow. Defend the castle.”

  “But you won’t be able to hold out for many days,” I replied.

  “The old men must stay with me. If Agathon is right, we won’t hold even for a day. But it should be enough for you to escape from the pirates. Either they chase you, or they come up here to take the castle. If they see torches and blades protecting the Castlemonastery, they’ll come here.”

  The entire island was an impregnable natural fortress. The only accessible coastline was the small harbor, and that led to the thousand and thirty-eight steps that ended up at the gate of the Castlemonastery. Even the peasant’s settlement couldn’t reach the sea except through those steps. The western, northern, and eastern side of the island all led to cliffs. One could only climb them with great effort and still end up in front of the main gate of the castle. The walls were strong and tall; the gate had been repaired. If Da-Ren could hold it for a day, with a handful of men, maybe even a night…

  “Unless those pirates have wings, you’ll escape. If we all leave, and they come after our boat, then we are all dead. We won’t fit anyway,” he said.

  “Let’s hope they come late, so we can all escape on the boat,” said Baagh.

  “I must tell you now. We don’t fit, we can’t sail,” repeated Agathon.

  “Yes, they must believe that the gold remained on the island,” said the First Elder. He didn’t care much about any barbarian.

  “I have a better idea,” I said. “What if we leave the gold here? They’ll come for it.”

  “No. If the pirates don’t see anyone here, they’ll follow the boat.”

  The First Elder was quick to add:

  “The holy relics are more important than anybody’s life. They must be saved.”

  “And those holy relics are damn heavy,” said Da-Ren.

  “Pure gold,” I added.

  “But here are my terms,” said Da-Ren.

  “You have terms?” asked the First Elder. “After so many years of asylum and hospitality here. You, a murderer who committed all those heinous crimes and had a monk scribe them to the same parchment we use to copy the five holy books? How dare you?”

  Da-Ren would dare.

  “I ask for these. First, you will board all the children and the peasants on the ship and then anything else you want to carry. Leave a few behind, thirty men at least, because I won’t be able to hold the gate alone even for a few moments. If the boat can bear the weight of the gold, fine, otherwise better start digging to hide it. There is a cave on the northern side of the island.”

  “I just said: the holy relics come with us.”

  “You will take whatever you can carry after all the peasants, women and children embark. Otherwise, I’ll cut your throat now, and leave with Agathon and your holy relics.” Da-Ren’s voice was calm and clear. I believed him.

  The First Elder frowned. He knew he had to agree to his terms.

  “And the second term.”

  I hoped that it was the same one I had in mind.

  “You will hear the story until the end and answer me tonight,” said Da-Ren.

  “There’s only one chapter left,” said Baagh.

  “This is no time for stories,” said the First Elder.

  “Not now. But when night falls you’ll make time.”

  “You help us bring the gold down the steps and then we can listen to it, past the prothypnia and before the First Hour prayers. If Eusebius can read under the candlelight, we’ll stay awake and listen to the end. This has never been done here before, a gathering during the silent hours. I hope God forgives us, we must pray tonight,” said the First Elder.

  “I’ll manage,” I said.

  “We can’t go anywhere until that boat is repaired,” said Zeev, and shrugged his broad shoulders.

  Nagpaal slowly clapped his hands, smirking. “At last, some good news. I want to hear the story,” he said.

  I put in the third term to seal our agreement. “You must take the chest with the codices with you,” I said.

  “That is for sure,” said Baagh. “I must deliver it to Thalassopolis.”

  “And the man who wrote it,” said Da-Ren.

  “I want to stay. I can help you,” I said, raising my voice.

  “I am sure you can. But you can scribe better than you can fight. You go,” said Da-Ren.

  “But—”

  “I am not asking.”

  The First Elder agreed. Da-Ren agreed. Da-Ren would never allow me to stay with him. He didn’t trust anyone else with the manuscript. I was relieved and ashamed as I realized that I didn’t want to stay either. I wanted to live. I had read enough about sacrifice on the papyri; I didn’t want to sacrifice myself.

  A warm wind smelling of chamomile blew into the courtyard. It was a southern wind, strong enough to favor the pirate sails. We gathered all able men and gave them directions on what to carry and how to help Agathon.

  I went with Da-Ren and Baagh, that same afternoon, to speak with the peasants. The oldest of them, who had grandchildren already, decided to stay with us. Da-Ren denied all help from the young and gave directions to those who’d stay with him.

  “Listen. You must fight like lions for one day before you meet your god,” Da-Ren said. “Spear or blade, stone or pot, whatever you have, bring it to the Castlemonastery by sunset. The blades must shine tomorrow in the light of the sun. We must man the towers, the parapets, the battlements; they must believe that there are many warriors still here. Hot oil and fire. Bring scarecrows if you have them. The boat will get away only if the pirates believe that at least fifty men are defending the castle.”

  I counted in front of me.

  “You will barely have ten men with you. None of them young,” I said.

  “Twenty,” said Baagh. “There are another ten volunteers among the monks who have chosen to stay and martyr themselves with you.”

  When we made it back to the courtyard, I looked at the company of the black-dressed and bearded monks who had offered themselves. Weak and old, men too tired to run away rather than too eager to draw blood.

  “How about the other twenty monks? Don’t they believe in eternal life? Or are they scared of a pirate’s knife?” asked Da-Ren.

  “We made a deal, Da-Ren. I don’t have time for all this foolish talk,” said Baagh. He then left us to prepare and pray.

  It was early afternoon when we finished
talking and started carrying the treasures down the thousand steps.

  “I need more men,” said Da-Ren. “We must hold the gate for a day. We might need to dig out some fresh corpses, Eusebius, from the cemetery. We will dress them and mount them upright so that it looks like there’s more of us.”

  Disgust and terror overcame me.

  “Have you unearthed the old horrors from your stories? They will never let you do that. Neither the monks nor the peasants.”

  Da-Ren smirked.

  “That is very fortunate,” he said. “I hate rotting corpses.”

  “This is madness, Da-Ren. Not one of you will survive. And I can’t imagine the torture if the pirates capture you alive,” I told him as we walked up to the library.

  “They won’t. But the torture cannot be escaped whether I stay or go.”

  “The boat will hold. Please, come with us.”

  “Faith, Eusebius. Don’t you believe in the Sorcerers? In eternal life for those who redeem themselves by doing God’s will?” His eyes had become watery despite his smile, as he continued: “Tonight, your Sorcerers will make me invincible. And I will redeem the lives of my wife and daughter. And you will escape and save the manuscript. You will see.”

  “If the pirates don’t show up by noon, or whenever the boat is ready, you can come with us. No reason for you to die here.”

  “Stop hoping. The pirates will be on time. You’ll barely escape.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because it is your Devil who is sending them. One thing I learned from all your holy books, the Devil is never late.”

  When night fell, everyone, peasants and monks, doomed and hopeful, gathered to pray in the church. I didn’t join them. Instead, I stayed with Da-Ren for one last time.

  “I wish I never had to read this final chapter,” I said.

  A chapter for the demons.

  We wouldn’t have much light, but I now knew the text by heart. One candle would be enough for me.

  I ate like a king, ignoring the rules like a man condemned. Warm chickpeas, salted fish, raw onions, and baked fresh from the wood-burning stove. No wine. I wanted to keep a clear head.