Mandala's Catalyst (Gardone Trilogy)

by Warren R. Henke

  Although Sharel, his wife, made the choice easy, Endell made it difficult. He could not leave Endell alone, especially with her. Somehow he would make things work out. Whatever happened, he would always take care of Endell.

  He reached the well, tied the bucket to the rope, and tossed it into the darkness. The rope zipped, and then he heard a distant splash. He cranked the handle and the line tightened as the heavy load rose came and came back to him. On the way back to the house, the full bucket demanded his strength as he held it away from his body to keep it from sloshing. He reached the house in a mild sweat and breathing heavily.

  He walked through the open door and hoisted the bucket onto the table. Across the room, Sharel’s small figure was hunched over the fire stirring soup. He focused on the thick black hair that hung down over her back. Because she was crouched, it nearly touched the floor. He suddenly longed for her, and instantly hated himself for it. The only thing longing ever brought him was pain. But maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time she wouldn’t reject him. No! He shook his head; don’t be a fool. The years of her shunning burned through his heart and mind. She no longer even had to snub his advances to push him away. Hurt and angry, he nearly suggested himself that he leave for the night, but then stopped. It was better to let her tell him. If he sounded like he wanted to go, not only might she become suspicious, she might actually decide she didn’t want him to. He stayed quiet.

  “I packed your dinner, it’s in your pack with your blanket,” she said without turning around. “I figured it would be nice for you to eat out under the stars…give you something to do.”

  He paused, not wanting to sound too eager.

  “The flock is fine. The fence is strong and…”

  She spun around and glared. “We have already discussed this. This is a bad time of year and I don’t want to get in another argument about it. Stop being lazy and go take care of your responsibilities.”

  Thamus let his shoulders fall. He dropped his head and mumbled, “fine.” It felt nice to fake submission for once.

  “Endell?” he yelled.

  “He walked Migun home but I’ll tell him you said goodnight. You don’t have time to wait for him,” She said, her attention now back to the soup.

  He wanted to wait, but for once she was right. Tonight he didn’t have time. He’d see Endell tomorrow. He lifted his pack from the floor and as he walked out the door said the customary, “have a good night’s sleep…see you in the morning. Love you.”

  “Love you, too. Goodbye dear,” she said without turning around.

  Thamus returned to the path and passed through the meadow. The sun had vanished and stars were beginning to dot the sky above him. He looked at the windmill in the distance; a light flickered faintly in the upstairs room. Nervous and excited, he crossed the meadow and slipped inside the barn.

  He felt along the wall, past the shears and garden tools. He squatted low and reached behind the work table, fingers fumbling and searching until they felt the coarse texture of burlap. He pulled a small package from its hidden location and quickly stuffed it into his pack.

  * * * Endell pushed through a thicket of branches and held them until Migun passed, then stepped forward and they snapped back into place. The trail to the pasture wasn’t used by many and parts of it were thick and overgrown.

  “What about the dark ones?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. But we won’t have to worry about them for a few days. Once we start following his coach, we’ll stay close enough to be under the guard’s protection,” he said.

  “But won’t the guards see us?”

  “No.” he said. He didn’t want to think about the dark ones and needed to get her mind on something else too. “Why do you want to go with him?”

  Their feet crunched through the grass several times before she answered. “Same reason you do. To save Jasper.” Her voice seemed a little icy, probably upset with his sharpness. But he knew her, it would dissolve fast.

  “But we aren’t really saving him, we are going with him,” he said.

  “Life will be easier for my family without another mouth to feed.”

  This hit a nerve, and he swallowed. Her life had been hard since the accident. He missed Jewell. She had been like a mother to him; the mother he wished he had. Migun rarely referred to anything that related to her mother’s death.

  “What about you?” she asked. “What about your family?”

  “I’d rather not leave my father,” he said. “That’s why we have to say goodbye to him first.” He paused. “I hope he’ll come with us.”

  “What? He can’t come with us, are you crazy?”

  He spun around. “If he’s with us, we might actually survive. He knows how to live in the wilderness, why don’t you want him to come?”

  “It’s not that, you should have told me. You can’t hide things from me; I’m part of this too. I have a say.”

  She was frowning. He wasn’t used to seeing her frown, it almost made him laugh. “I didn’t think you’d care,” he said.

  “Well, I care you didn’t tell me what you were thinking. You can’t hide things from me like that.”

  He nodded, “alright, I won’t.”

  “He won’t leave your mother anyways,” she said, as if his idea was pointless.

  “No, actually he might. My mom doesn’t really like him very much.”

  “She doesn’t like him? Are you serious?”

  “She bosses him around and yells a lot. And he does whatever she tells him—not that I blame him. It’s not worth it to fight with her. She’ll eventually get her way so it’s easier to just go along with it right up front. She’s the one who insisted we tell about Jasper. I was stupid for talking about it while she was around.”

  “You sound like you hate her or something?”

  “No, I don’t hate her, she just isn’t nice. She’s not like your mother was.” The words escaped before he realized, and he cringed.

  She didn’t answer and he tried to think of something he could say to erase it. Nothing came to him and the extended silence that followed made even more uncomfortable. He was glad to see moonlight ahead, where the forest opened into the pasture, and he hurried out of the trees. He instantly knew something was wrong.

  “Get down!” he said, and dropped to the ground.

  He slipped off his pack. He heard Migun do the same and she crawled up next to him. They were lying on the crest of a grassy hill. The rising moon bathed the grassy hills in a soft blue light.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

  Endell pointed. Far ahead was a dark figure, walking away from the sheep which dotted the dark pasture below them like white specs on velvet. They watched until the figure vanished over the hill, then Endell stood and tossed his pack in the grass.

  “What are you doing?” whispered Migun.

  “I need to find out if that’s him. You can wait here if you want, I’ll be back.”

  “No, I’m coming too,” she said.

  They ran but the figure moved fast. As they crested one hill he vanished down the next. The final hill put them close, but they stopped when they realized it was Thamus and that he was putting on a black hood and cape.

  “What is he doing?” Endell whispered.

  They watched Thamus walk up the hill to the old windmill. He reached the door, appeared to fuss with it, and then disappeared inside.

  Migun looked at Endell, confused. “Maybe we should go back and wait at the flock.”

  Endell shook his head in disagreement. “No. I don’t know when he’ll be back and we can’t wait around.”

  Endell tried to stand but Migun yanked him back down.

  “Look!” she said.

  Another cloaked figure approached the windmill. This one also fumbled at the door and entered.

  “What is going on?” Endell said. Then a third emerged from the shadows and entered. Two more followed.

  “Let’s go, I don’t like this.” Migun s
aid.

  “Go if you want,” he said. “But I’m not leaving without talking to him.”

  He crouched low and crept forward. Migun didn’t follow.

  Chapter 5

  The Resistance

  The light Len had placed in the top room of the windmill was fading. He glanced down at the golden embroidery on his cape, C2. Tonight he wasn’t king, he wasn’t even Len; he was a number. He tossed back the hood of his cloak and slid his tight silky mask over his head. Now only his eyes were exposed. He was about to replace the hood when a rustling in the grass startled him. He ducked into the tall grass. Something or someone was coming down the hill.

  All seven others had entered the windmill, six established members and the new recruit. Whatever was sneaking up behind him wasn’t a Resistance member, or at least not from his sector. Probably an animal, but he had to make sure. An exposed sector threatened the lives of each member and their families. Identities were guarded and protected, extreme precautions always taken. So he watched and waited.

  Covered in black and nestled deep in the grass, Len felt invisible. A shadow moved from the blackness and he instantly switched into predator mode. There was only one proper course of action, knock the person unconscious and alert the others. There would be no meeting tonight. Two years ago a friend had been murdered because of a breech in security. Initially, he had believed her death had been the result of a tragic barn fire. But later, when he joined the Resistance, he had learned the truth. She had been murdered; the truth masked beneath the charred, smoldering remains of what used to be the livelihood of a happy family.

  It would not happen again. He crouched, like a panther in the shadows, and prepared to lunge. He would try not to hurt them, but he would have to knock them unconscious long enough to give them all time to escape. It was too bad, most likely this stray wanderer was innocently exploring the night and just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He jolted to sprint forward but then suddenly froze. White hair floated through the darkness, it was Endell. Although it was possible youth had joined the Resistance, Len doubted Endell was a member of any sector. Besides, he wasn’t wearing the black cloak and mask.

  Thinking quickly, he slipped off his cloak, removed his mask, and laid back in the grass. Putting his hands behind his head, he took a deep breath and pretended to be looking at the stars. Moments later, Endell nearly stepped on him and Len sat up and acted surprised. “Endell?”

  Endell jumped, nearly losing his balance.

  “It’s me, Len. Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Endell muttered under his breath and took several deep breaths before answering. “Yes, it’s a nice evening.”

  “Look at the Southern Cluster,” Len motioned to the south, behind Endell. “Amazing how red it turns during late summer.”

  Endell turned and looked to the southern sky, still panting from his scare. He appeared to study it before turning back to Len. “What does it mean?”

  “War, death, betrayal…take your pick,” Len said.

  Endell twisted around again, gazing into the sky. Something didn’t feel right, and the long silence between them seemed to verify that Endell was up to something. Was he spying on the Resistance? And Endell had been the one responsible for Jasper’s banishment. Len cursed himself. Why hadn’t he just knocked him out when he had the chance? A simple situation had suddenly become horribly complicated.

  “Well,” Endell finally said, “guess I better get going…I just had to walk Migun home.”

  Endell was obviously lying.

  “Endell, if you were walking Migun home, why are you out here?”

  “I…was watching the stars. It’s just a nice evening for a walk, like you said.”

  Len stood and noticed Endell staring at the black cape in the grass. Chills shot through his body. He had told himself he would kill, if necessary, to protect himself and the safety of the Resistence but he had never expected it to come to that. And especially not his best friend’s son. What could he do? Lock the boy up where he couldn’t tell anyone? Thamus would be devastated if his son was missing.

  “I’m sorry,” said Endell. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I wanted to see my father. He left the sheep and I tried to catch him but couldn’t before he went into the windmill. But I’ll go. I don’t need to know what is going on.”

  “Your father went in?” More bad news. Maybe their sector had been completely compromised. Were Thamus and Endell in this together?

  Endell nodded.

  “When?”

  “A few minutes ago with everyone else. He had a cape like yours.” Endell pointed to the cape in the grass.

  He felt a little better. If Endell was spying on the Resistance he wouldn’t have exposed his father. If Thamus was a spy, he had at least taken the blood oath. If he betrayed them, they’d know…unless Thamus found a way to break the magic. Was that possible?

  Either way, he couldn’t let Endell go. If he was innocent, it wouldn’t hurt to take him and he could be magically bound to never repeat a word about what he saw. If he wasn’t innocent, setting him free would be a death sentence for Len and maybe Tari. Taking him, by force if needed, was the right move. Plus, if Thamus was a traitor Endell could be used for protection.

  “Endell, why don’t you come with me? I think you’ll find this interesting,” he said, eyeing the boy closely. If he tried to run, Len would have to knock him out.

  “Alright,” Endell said, appearing comfortable with the suggestion.

  Len reached back and picked up his disguise, ready to lunge if Endell tried to get away. He threw the cloak around his shoulders and secured it tightly, careful not to allow Endell to see his number, C2. At least he would keep that part of his identity safe.

  “I don’t have time to explain.” Len pulled the mask over his face and Endell’s eyes widened.

  “I know this is strange,” Len spoke through the silky mask. “But you did not see me here tonight and under this mask, you do not know who I am. No matter who asks, understand?”

  “Yes,” Endell said. “Whoever you are.”

  Len put his arm on Endell’s shoulder. “I think you’ve got it.”

  The two walked up the hill to the windmill. Len removed a key from a pocket in his cloak, slipped it into the lock, and turned. The lock clicked. He pushed the door open and motioned to Endell, who walked through. Len followed and the door clicked shut behind them.

  It was darker inside, even with several candles burning, and it took some time for Len’s eyes to adjust. When he could see, he whispered in Endell’s ear and pointed to a bench. “Sit there and wait for me, I’ll be right back.”

  Endell sat and Len climbed winding, wooden stairs that creaked with each step. The second floor was brighter. Candles surrounded the perimeter and seven hooded figures sat around a small fire. Len smelled sweet tea. The familiar voice of C1 greeted him.

  “2, nice of you to finally join us.” The deep, cheerful voice hinted at a grin under the mask.

  Len raised his hand to indicate silence. He crossed the room and, whispering in the ear of 1, explained the situation. 1 nodded and whispered back instructions. Len walked to a far corner of the room and removed a wall panel, exposing a hidden alcove. Reaching inside, he removed a mask and a cloak marked C9. Then he descended the stairs.

  * * * The stairs creaked and Endell looked up. Len, or somebody in a mask and cape, walked halfway down and threw something that landed with a soft thud near his feet. Before he looked, he knew what it was. He picked up the cape and mask, and then put them on. The figure on the stairs motioned for him to follow.

  When he reached the top, the stranger raised a finger to his mask, over his mouth. Endell nodded, affirming the order of silence. Then the stranger turned and pointed to the floor, near several more robed figures gathered around a small fire. Endell walked to the spot and sat. He looked up to seven pairs of eyes, each reflecting the orange glow of the fire.

  “I am 1. You will be known as 9,” s
aid a man’s voice.

  Endell turned toward the voice. The man speaking to him had a ‘C1’ on the right breast of his robe. The others had similar markings, different numbers. He looked at his own chest and saw ‘C9.’

  “Please, help yourself to tea.” 1 pointed at a kettle on the fire.

  Endell shook of his head. His stomach was too agitated for tea. This was all too strange. It must have something to do with Jasper’s banishment; maybe he could still stop it. He tried to figure out which one was Len and which was Father but he didn’t want to stare and his quick glances weren’t enough to tell.

  “Before we begin, we have two orders of business,” 1 said. “8, last meeting you swore an oath of secrecy but had not yet decided to join us. Because you are here, I assume that you have decided to take our vows?”

  One of the figures nodded.

  “Before you take the oath, we have an unexpected guest.” 1’s eyes fixed on Endell. “9, we are pleased to have you with us. To protect your identity, you shouldn’t speak. Whisper to me, use gestures, or write,” he pointed and Endell saw a tablet and quill near the fire. “Some of us are comfortable speaking out loud, others are not. You have been brought here in anonymity by someone in this room who believes you might find the topics of our discussion interesting and meaningful. In this room, we speak freely. Nobody is punished, questioned, or reported for their thoughts or beliefs. There is no right and there is no wrong. We want honesty. Do you understand?”

  Endell nodded.