Giddy with excitement, Bonnay raced back to her suite to discover everything she could about Alcea. Moments after she disappeared into her suite, the Royal Sorcerer strode along the hallway. He knocked softly on one of the doors and waited patiently until it was answered. A moment later the door opened and Zalaharic stepped into the corridor. The two mages talked softly as they made their way to Prince Harold’s room. While Sigfrid knocked on the door, Zalaharic bent down and picked up the two stacks of books. Together, the mages entered the suite and closed the door. Prince Harold smiled as they entered the room.
“So you have finally decided to get out of bed,” quipped Sigfrid. “How are you feeling?”
“Better than I have ever felt,” smiled Prince Harold, “and I have the two of you to thank for that.”
Zalaharic set the two sets of books down on a table. “Keep those piles separate. One set is to be returned to the library here in Herinak Castle, but the other stack must be returned to another place.”
Prince Harold raised an eyebrow. “And where would that other place be?”
Zalaharic merely smiled.
“Take off your clothes and get into bed,” Sigfrid said. “I want to examine you.”
Prince Harold started to protest that he felt fine, but he realized that the mages were best suited to determine that for themselves. He walked into his sleeping chamber, disrobed., and settled onto the bed. Sigfrid thoroughly checked his body for sores or discoloration. When he was done, he nodded with satisfaction.
“You need to get out in the sun a bit, but I see nothing wrong with you.”
“I want one last chance to detect any lingering traces of the disease,” declared Zalaharic. “Close your eyes, Prince Harold.”
“One last chance?” frowned the prince. “Are you leaving me?”
“If the disease is no longer present,” answered the elven healer, “you no longer require my presence.”
“I am sure that there are others who require the healing powers of Zalaharic,” interjected Sigfrid. “He has dallied here for quite some time now.”
“I understand,” Prince Harold replied sadly. “Must you put me asleep?”
Zalaharic frowned with thought for a moment and then shook his head. “If my inspection disturbs you in any way, let Sigfrid know. He will bring me out.”
The prince nodded his understanding, and Zalaharic closed his eyes and placed his hands on the prince. Prince Harold immediately felt a tingle where the healer had placed his hands. The strange sensation radiated outward until it encompassed his entire body and then it changed. Overriding the slight tingling sensation was a more localized, and stronger, feeling in his chest. He concentrated on that feeling as it started to move through his body like a cork being pushed through a pipe filled with water. The prince marveled at the speed of the cork as it twisted through his imagined maze of pipes. The feeling never brought pain to his body, but he did feel lightheaded and dizzy when the cork reached his temple, and then it was gone. Prince Harold looked at the elf and saw him remove his hands and straighten up.
“You are a well man,” smiled the elven healer. “I concur with the Royal Sorcerer. You need sunlight, and I would add exercise.”
“I look forward to getting both,” smiled the prince. “Will I be allowed to leave the castle?”
Sigfrid frowned, but Zalaharic nodded and smiled.
“You must take steps to ensure that no one recognizes you,” suggested the elf. “Have you ever had a beard?”
“Never,” answered the prince.
“Then grow one, and find a name that will not cause the country of Ertak to spring to mind. I am sure that Sigfrid or Baron Stikman can come up with some alternate identity for you. When you do go out, start slowly. You have not been active for years, and you should not rush things, but you will be fine.”
“I am eternally grateful to you, Zalaharic. How can I repay you?”
“You owe me nothing,” smiled the elven healer. “If you wish to be indebted to anyone, think about the people of Ertak and how you can best serve them should you ever get the opportunity. You have been given another chance at life. Remember what it was like not to have had hope or good health, for there are citizens who have neither. A wise and just ruler will do what he can to help them.”
* * * *
Brother Nicholas called permission to enter, and Brother Louis entered the room and closed the door before crossing the room and sitting in front of the desk.
“What have you found out so far?” asked Brother Nicholas.
“Your idea of letting him speak to everyone has been a good one,” Brother Louis said with a hint of surprise in his voice. “Wylan is not quick to offer information about himself, but the others have managed to learn quite a bit. He is Tyronian and used to be a soldier. He lost his eyesight during a battle when a fireball exploded near him. He is quite bitter about the loss of his sight, but he has learned to deal with it rather well. He claims that his sense of smell and hearing have improved since he was blinded.”
“I have noticed that.” The head monk nodded. “Does he have wealthy parents? A wife perhaps?”
“His parents are dead,” answered Brother Louis. “They were not wealthy in any event. He talks of a wife, but in the past tense. I suspect that she left him when he became blind.”
“Then where does he get his gold?” asked the head monk.
“That is a bit of a mystery, even to him. The sum of fifty gold is deposited into an account for him every month since the battle that took his eyesight. He is able to withdraw from this account in any city in the Federation.”
“And what does a blind man spend such an amount of money on?” asked Brother Nicholas.
“Evidently, he doesn’t,” answered Brother Louis. “He has no home and merely travels the land, usually sleeping under the stars, so he has little need for money.”
“That is a problem we can help him with,” chuckled Brother Nicholas. “Now you can see why stealing his meager purse would have been counterproductive. Why settle for a few gold coins when we can have a monthly allowance flowing into the monastery’s coffers?”
“You seek to have him join the cult?”
“Of course,” grinned the head monk. “He must learn how the gods have forsaken this land, and how he can pray for their return. Put everyone on it.”
“As a member of the brotherhood, he would be required to offer what funds he can,” chuckled Brother Louis. “You are devious indeed.”
“It’s a start,” shrugged Brother Nicholas. “We still have needs far beyond what Wylan can offer. Who do you think is giving him the money?”
“Someone with a guilty conscience,” answered Brother Louis. “Probably the mage who blinded him. What do we care where he gets the gold?”
“Because his benefactor might cut the funds off if he learns where it is going. I think we need to make inquiries regarding the deposits. I am going to have to go into Valdo. I will be gone for a week or so.”
“What do you want me to do with Wylan while you are gone?” asked Brother Louis.
“Let him do whatever he wants, but make sure that he doesn’t leave the monastery.”
“He goes outside a couple of times a day,” frowned Brother Louis. “Should I stop him from doing that?”
“What does he go outside for?”
“He says that he is used to being outdoors and can’t stand being inside all day. He leaves all of his belongings in his room, except his staff. He takes that wherever he goes.”
“Let him continue as he is,” stated Brother Nicholas. “Only interfere with him if he tries to leave with his belongings. And make sure that the brothers know that they are to convince him to join the brotherhood. I want everyone working on him.”
“He will be offering up his gold to you by the time you return,” snickered Brother Louis. “I am sure of it.”
Chapter 33
Making Friends
Wylan rose early. He sat up in the tiny room that
he shared with Brother Dominik and quietly stretched. Rising quietly from his mat, the Knight of Alcea grabbed his staff and moved out of the room to take a walk outside before the badgering began. Since Brother Nicholas had left the monastery three days earlier, the brothers of the Cult of Everlasting Bounty had harassed him constantly about joining the brotherhood. Brother Dominik had been the least fervent about imposing his philosophy, and Wylan was glad that he was sharing a room with him. It at least allowed the Alcean a chance to sleep in peace. What struck Wylan as ironic was the identity of the most fervent follower. It was Brother Samuel, previous heir to the throne of Spino, who was the most forceful with his beliefs. At twenty years of age, Samuel was also the youngest of the brothers, yet he had been a follower for longer than most. Wylan had no idea how he was going to convince the prince to leave the monastery, but he knew that he had to accomplish his mission soon, preferably before the return of Brother Nicholas.
Wylan moved silently along the hallway, careful not to disturb the sleeping monks. When he started past the room where Brother Samuel slept, he intentionally hit the wall hard with his staff. Wylan heard no one stir, so he clumsily dropped his staff on the floor, the sound reverberating loudly in the deserted corridor. The Knight of Alcea dropped to his knees and began feeling the floor with his hands as he heard the prince stirring in the room.
“To your left,” said the sleepy voice of Brother Samuel. “What are you doing up so early?”
Wylan’s hand moved to his left and wrapped around the staff. He sighed heavily. “Thank you, Brother Samuel.” Wylan stood up. “I could not sleep. I kept thinking of the words that you and the others spoke yesterday. I thought I would go outside for some meditation.”
“You will freeze out there,” scoffed the prince. “Let us go to the kitchen and get something warm to drink. I will help you understand the truth.”
“No,” Wylan replied. “I think part of my trouble understanding your philosophy stems from too many mouths speaking at the same time. I will go outside for my meditation. If you wish to join me, I will listen.”
As Wylan expected, the prince could not pass up the opportunity to help a blind man see the light.
“Let me get something warmer to wear. I will be right out.”
Wylan did not wait. He moved towards the front door of the monastery, his staff tapping a soft rhythm as it tested the floor before him. Before he reached the door, Brother Samuel was alongside him. The monk opened the door and held it as Wylan made his way outside. Once outside, Wylan continued straight ahead until he was well away from the building. He found the large rock he usually sat upon and sat down. Brother Samuel sat alongside him.
“I do not understand why you come out here to think,” frowned the prince. As he pulled his robe tight about him. “It is much warmer inside.”
“You said the other day that the monastery is austere to keep the minds of the monks focused. Is that true?”
“That is what Brother Nicholas teaches.” The prince nodded. “We are not to let our minds be swayed by material things.”
“I suppose that I have an easier time at that than most people,” Wylan smiled thinly, “but look around you. Tell me what you see.”
“I see nothing,” frowned Brother Samuel. “We are in the woods.”
“Then according to Brother Nicholas, there is nothing here to distract you.”
“But there is nothing inside to distract me, either. We live a simple life. I do not understand why you cannot see that. It does not take eyes to understand that the gods have forsaken us. Why are you not angry about the loss of your sight?”
“Who would I be angry with? The mage who threw the fireball was not aiming for me. The man that it hit was a friend. Surely, my friend meant no harm to come to me.”
“You should be angry with the gods,” declared Brother Samuel. “They decided to take their wrath out on you. They are the source of all our misery.”
“Are they?” challenged the Knight of Alcea. “Is there no one who is miserable because of his fellow man?”
“The gods are the source of all misery,” the prince stated empathetically. “They may use others to achieve their goals, but it ultimately comes back to them. Most people do not understand this. That is the purpose of the Cult of Everlasting Bounty. We are to enlighten the people and force the gods to change their ways. You can help us do that.”
“How do you enlighten the people by hiding in your monastery?”
Brother Samuel frowned and sighed. “We used to enter the cities and preach on a regular basis, but not any more. The people have become accustomed to their misery. They no longer listen.”
“Perhaps they listen, but your words ring hollow. What proof do you offer that the gods have forsaken us?”
“Proof?” balked the monk. “The proof is all around you. Ever since I was born, the gods have shown their contempt for us. The whole nation of Sirocca was destroyed in a single day. Now the Sands of Eternity are piled atop their bodies and buildings. Our plants wither and the game grows weak and dies. The people starve from lack of food. Open your eyes and see the misery heaped upon us.”
“Were I able to do that,” Wylan smiled thinly.
“I am sorry. I did not think before I spoke, but surely you understand my words. The evidence is overwhelming.”
“What of the queen?” asked Wylan.
Brother Samuel leaped off the rock and turned to glare at the blind man. “What has she to do with this?” he demanded.
“Have I said something wrong?” Wylan asked innocently.
“Why do you speak of the queen?”
Wylan shrugged. “From what I have heard, she is not miserable at all. I heard that she lives in a magnificent palace which is filled to overflowing with great paintings and valuable pieces of art. It is said that she wears enough jewelry to feed the entire city. Why have the gods not forsaken her?”
“The gods are using her to punish the rest of us,” the prince said bitterly. “That should be obvious.”
“Brother Samuel,” sighed Wylan, “nothing is obvious to a blind man. I guess the loss of my sight has caused me to question everything. Is that bad?”
Brother Samuel shook his head and returned to his seat. “Questioning is the way to enlightenment, but I have never met anyone who asks so many questions. It is as if you have lost more than your sight. Perhaps you have also lost your reason. The answers to your questions are so obvious, yet you do not comprehend them.”
“I am just a cautious man. I would not want to will my life to a cause and then discover that my knowledge was false.”
“I assure you that our cause is just.”
“Just?” Wylan released the word slowly as if tossing the thought around in his head. “What is just?”
“I do not understand the question,” frowned Brother Samuel.
“If you had the chance to make everything just, as you think it should be, what would you do?”
The monk sat silently for several minutes as he pondered the question. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “If everything was just, I should not have to do anything.”
“If it were up to you to make things just,” retorted Wylan, “not if they were already just. How would you right the wrongs of the world?”
“That is not my place. It is up to the gods to make it right.”
“Who says it is up to the gods?”
“It just is. Mortal men cannot change the will of the gods.”
“Then what are you doing at this monastery?”
“We are…” The monk halted and stared at the blind man.
“You are trying to challenge the will of the gods,” Wylan declared. “That is pretty presumptuous for a young man like you, isn’t it?”
“Someone has to do it.”
“You just stated that it was not your task. You have dedicated your life to this path, yet it is a contradiction to your true beliefs.”
“You are twisting my words,” accused the monk.
“Am I? I think your doubt is stronger than you are letting on, but I do not wish to cause you anger. Let us leave the gods out of our talk for now. If you had the chance to do what you could to help the people of this land, what would you do?”
Brother Samuel sat silently for a long time. Wylan purposely remained silent, forcing the monk to respond to the question.
“The first thing I would do,” the monk eventually said in a soft voice, “is find a way to feed the people, all of the people. I would see that they were clothed and that their ills were attended to. I think that is the same thing that any man would do if he had the chance. Why do you want to know the answer to this question?”
“To gauge you as a man,” smiled Wylan. “I disagree that all men would act the same. In fact, I think few men would pass up the chance to line their pockets with gold rather than spend it on their fellow man.”
“You must travel in different circles,” protested Brother Samuel. “All of the brothers here would care for the people first.”
“I think not,” Wylan replied in a serious tone.
“You truly do not understand the Cult of Everlasting Bounty. We live a poor life because we give up everything we own when we enter the service of the brotherhood.”
“And who do you give it to?”
“I do not bother with such trivialities. Brother Nicholas handles such things.”
“What would you think of a spiritual leader who kept the gold for himself?”
“He would not be much of a spiritual leader,” answered the monk. “Such a man would be unworthy to serve, never mind lead.”
“I agree.” Wylan smiled as he decided to change the subject. “Let us get back to the gods. Do you believe that they exist?”
“Of course they exist. Do you not believe in them?”
“I believe in them,” answered the Knight of Alcea, “but I do not think they would intentionally forsake any of us. Have you ever seen or heard them?”
“Of course not,” answered Brother Samuel. “No one gets to see or hear the gods.”
“Then how do you know that they have forsaken you? And I do not mean for you to list the ills of the world over again. What I am asking is how do you know that the problems are attributable to the gods?”
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