The Exiled Monk
Page 23
Locambius hurried to follow him with just a glance back at the other monks. Rudi stepped forward and looked at the gathered raider with a tentative grin.
“Who likes a story?” Rudi asked.
No one replied. Darella muttered something under her breath but Rudi waved her off without looking back.
“I have the perfect tale for you,” Rudi went on undeterred, “It’s the story of the farmer and his dog. There was once a farmer who kept many animals. He had pigs,” Rudi paused and made a remarkably pig-like sound. The raiders chuckled a bit. “He had chickens,” Rudi mimicked the clucking of hens and then the crow of a rooster; the raiders laughed. “He had donkeys and cows,” each life-like sound elicited more laughter from the raiders. “And the farmer had a dog.” Rudi’s barking was uncannily realistic.
“The dog went with the farmer everywhere he went. To feed the pigs. To collect eggs from the chickens. To milk the cows. And to harness the donkeys.” Each mention of the animals required a new demonstration of its sound. While Rudi was telling his tale, Bracius had stepped behind Darella and Adrocus and pulled out his drum. It seemed that the bald monk kept one of each instrument somewhere in his robes. The drum he used was smaller than the standard one employed by the earth-singers, but it was of the same design with one end open and the other struck by a two-sided mallet. The pitch of the drum could be adjusted by pressure on the underside of the head so that it sang notes as well as beating out a rhythm.
Darella kept a watch on Rudi and when he approached a moment in his story where the animals would make a noise, she would nudge Bracius. When the sound happened and the raiders laughed in return, Bracius would play a few notes of the earth-song. By the end of his tale the raiders were fully engrossed in what Rudi was saying and ignoring everything else.
“The farmer’s dog” Rudi accompanied with a bark, “went to the donkeys, the cows, the chickens, and the pigs,” each making its own sound, “and asked them to help. The pigs, the chickens, the cows, and the donkeys all agreed. So the dog led the donkeys, the cows, the chickens, and the pigs to the farm and together the pigs, the chickens, the cows, and the donkeys all pushed the farmer into the well.” Which Rudi accompanied with a scream and a splashing sound. The raiders applauded and laughed.
Rudi stepped over to the ale barrel and lifted one of the tankards up. He turned it upside-down to show that it was empty and then righted it before turning to Darella. She pulled out her harp and Bracius had a small one too. Together they played the water-song and a tiny cloud appeared over Rudi’s hand. When the song was over he drank from the mug before turning it over again to pour out the water. The raiders made a sound of surprise and awe before clapping again. Rudi set up all the mugs from around the ale barrel and Darella and Bracius played again. They all filled with water and Rudi distributed them to the raiders to drink. They marveled at the water and cheered together.
Bracius gave a nod to Rudi who smiled in return and raised his tankard high.
“To the friendship of our people!”
The raiders lifted their mugs and shouted a toast in their language before everyone drank.
“Fool!” The shout came from aft.
Locambius stumbled back into the center of the crowded raiders at a shove from Svag. The old monk spun around and glared at the leader of the raiders.
“I came to talk in good faith. You lied.” Locambius said.
“Lie? No lie,” Svag grinned at him and folded his arms across his massive chest, “Have scriptures.”
“Not all of them, not like you said,” Locambius pointed an accusing finger.
“Not say all. Just say have,” Svag laughed, “Not fool,” he tapped his own chest, “not bring all. Boats sink.” He held out one scroll, aged and cracking. “You want? Come Lochemst. You not want? Die.”
Locambius sprinted for Svag and swiped the scroll before throwing it to Rudi, “Go, now. The rest are at the Markay capital.”
Svag punched Locambius in the back of his head and the old man fell to the ground. Rudi, Bracius, Darella, and Adrocus were surrounded instantly. They played wind to push back the raiders and edged toward the side of the ship. Svag began kicking Locambius in the ribs and stomach as he crumpled to his hands and knees.
Bracius stopped playing his whistle and pulled out his small harp. He played a surging, flowing cascade of notes. Their longboat appeared at the rail of the ship, raised up by the water. The four monks stepped into the boat. Locambius looked up to see them off the ship with the scroll before collapsing to the deck.
Bracius lowered the boat and started pushing it toward the shore. Raiders were swearing and throwing their horns after discovering that they would not play. Rudi and Darella began to play the wind-song to lift Locambius from the deck of the ship. He floated up a few feet, just so he could be seen above the rail, when the song of fire came from the other ships in the flotilla. The longboat started to smolder and then burn. Bracius called off the wind-song and played water again, sending waves over the longboat from the back to the front. He quenched the flames and used the surf to drive the boat away from the raiders.
Locambius fell back to the deck of the ship in a heap.
Twenty-Four
The aged disciple sat down heavily next to the young woman as they both absorbed what they’d learned. The other disciples gathered around them to learn the cause of the strange bubbles and wind. But neither Darrah nor Talib said anything for quite some time.
When they did speak it was with hushed awe.
“Fellow disciples of Eytskaim,” Talib began, “We have learned the secret of the great king’s wisdom and power. Through The Melody, which he heard under this tree, he gathered wisdom. He could hear the sound of right words and the discordance of wrong ones. But more than that, he could play The Melody on pipes like these and cause great wonders to happen.
“We have only just started to learn what the master knew. There is much work yet to be done. We must not allow the power to go before the wisdom nor the wisdom to lose fecundity without the power.”
And so began the work of the Disciples of Eytskaim to learn The Melody.
“Submit to the Melody. Do not question or doubt, for in such things lies the root of heresy.” Agostino of Abhainn Imeall
P
eek fell off the bench and awoke from his vision. He scrambled to his feet and looked out to see the longboat approaching the shore. After a moment of furious shaking, Plafius opened his eyes and seemed to comprehend Peek’s shouts. There wasn’t time to fully explain what was going on or how Peek knew what he knew. He left the disheveled, disoriented old man blinking on the bench and sprinted back toward the beach.
Months of walking out to the listening place had given Peek a sense for where every root and hummock were in the path and had also beaten down the path into something easily passable in the night. He ran with fury in his legs, iron in his feet, and hope escaping his hands.
When Peek reached the shore he was gasping for air, but the longboat had only just arrived. Peek met them in the waves and helped to drag the boat up on the sand. A few moments after he got there, Vlek arrived too. He, apparently, had watched from the monastery wall and come to meet the monks and hear of their success. Peek guessed that it was more the hope of their failure that motivated him to be so prompt. He was not disappointed.
“We have to go get Locambius,” Peek shouted.
“It’s too late, lad,” Rudi said.
“How did you—” Darella started to say before Vlek cut her off.
“So you failed?” Vlek sneered at them, “Would you like me to try? I do speak their language.”
“Enough!” Bracius pushed past everyone and walked toward the monastery. The others fell in line behind him, but Peek put his arm around Adrocus by way of welcoming him. They trooped back up to the monastery where Bracius walked straight to the scriptorium and deposited the lone scroll amid the empty racks. He turned to see Peek, Vlek, Adrocus, Rudi, and Darella staring at him.
They nodded and set off to their task. Most people were already awake and waiting for news of the monk’s raid. In just a few minutes everyone had gathered near the gates of the fortress, waiting and murmuring their theories.
Bracius stepped forward and addressed the people, “We attempted to negotiate with the raiders. They were not amenable to our terms. We escaped with our lives, but only because Locambius sacrificed himself for us. It is clear that we cannot stand against the Markay. We should leave this place as soon as possible. We will find a new home inland and away from navigable rivers. The Markay will not be able to attack us so far from the sea.”
Even before he stopped speaking people were shouting questions and comments. The cacophony was disorienting and deafening. Peek shook his head and realized that he’d been shaking his head for most of Bracius’ speech.
“No,” he said quietly, then again louder, “No!”
Everyone stopped to look at him. Without thinking he stepped forward to speak. Vlek tried to stop him, but Adrocus and Rudi blocked the village chief. Peek stood in the middle of his abandoned people and adopted family.
“We do have a choice,” Peek’s voice rang with passion, “Locambius isn’t dead, he’s been captured. What the raiders always wanted was a monk that could translate the scriptures so they could learn more of the magic. The only reason the monks weren’t able to drive off the raiders is because they refuse to use the magic to kill. They believe that it’s wrong. The raiders don’t share that hesitation. If they learn more, there won’t be anywhere, not even far inland, that will be safe from their raids.
“We can run for a time and live for a time,” Peek spread his hands as wide as they would go, “but we can’t outrun this; it will catch us and kill us all. Our choice is to stop them now. Our choice is to keep them from having the ability to translate the scrolls that they’ve already taken. If we all go out together, monks and villagers, we can fight them. We won here when they attacked. We can win there too. We need each other. We make each other stronger.”
Peek stood in the center of his people with his hands out waiting for a response. None came. No one spoke or moved. Slowly he lowered his hands and walked back toward Adrocus. His friend put a hand on Peek’s shoulder, but wouldn’t look him in the eyes. How could they all be so blind, Peek wondered. How could they not realize that they would die if they ran?
“The ships are leaving,” the call came from the seaward side of the monastery. Someone from the wall passed the word down to the crowd and it spread.
“They’re fleeing.” “We’ve won.” “We’re safe.” “We can go home.” “Is he dead?” “Was it worth it?” Words flowed around but no meaning emerged.
Peek stumbled away. He was stunned. Stunned at the loss of Locambius, the ignorance of the people, the impotence of the monks, and his own inability to do anything about it. He went toward the gate, now locked for the night. Without thinking, without slowing, he found the music in the world and bent it to his will. The crossbeam lifted and the gate swung wide before him. He continued in a daze through the portal and into the night. Behind him the people that he used to call his own were making plans to run away.
Peek couldn’t run away anymore.
As Peek walked, his feet took him back to the listening place. He wasn’t running away, but toward. Plafius wasn’t there. Peek sat down on the bench and looked again at the stones that were not a part of The Melody. He thought about what they might mean and why the music could not touch them. He wondered if he could create a ship or armor out of such stuff and stand against the raiders. He considered collecting the stones, from here and everywhere, and making a fortress out of them.
He walked over and grabbed one of the stones. It wouldn’t move. He pulled hard, but it remained sealed to the ground. Peek brushed aside the accumulated dirt and debris around the base of the stone. It looked like different rock than what the ground was made of, but at the base the cube was sealed completely to the bedrock. For lack of any better plan in this moment, he went around and checked all the other stones. Each was as firmly attached as the first.
“It’s like a story I can almost remember,” Dray said causing Peek to jump. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Peek ran to her and pulled her into an embrace. He didn’t feel the heart-pounding attraction that normally accompanied her touch. She was an anchor for him, shelter in the storm. She held him for several moments before he could speak.
“He’s gone,” Peek whispered into her hair, “They took him.”
“I heard,” she pulled back to look in Peek’s face, “What are you going to do?”
“We have to save him,” Peek pleaded with her.
Dray nodded, “That’s what Plafius said.”
“Why would Plafius want to save Locambius?”
“They used to be friends…” Dray seemed as ignorant as Peek on the matter.
“How can we help?” Peek felt tears reaching up to drown his thoughts, “The ships are already leaving.”
“We have magic. We can control the wind and the waves,” Dray smiled at him. In that smile Peek saw sunrise.
“Now, children, we’ve work to do,” Plafius walked slowly up the path. To Peek he seemed far less drunk than when he’d last seen the old monk. His ever-present tankard was absent from his hand.
“I took the ale out of him,” Dray whispered, “I’ve learned to heal, and many other things, by training with Plafius. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to un-drunk him.”
“Does he get drunk often?” Peek whispered in return.
“Not as often as Vlek, but more often than he should.”
“Alright now, enough secrets,” Plafius said, “As I said, we have work to do.”
Peek and Dray disentangled themselves and turned to face the apostate monk. He stepped forward and knelt to draw in the dirt at their feet.
“The Markay are likely headed back to their capital, which is about here,” he stabbed at a spot on the ground with his finger. “They must travel around this way which puts them going against the wind.” He drew Peek’s country of Iklay and traced the route of the raiders back to their home, “We can use the wind to push us very quickly and catch up to them before they get close. We will have to sneak aboard the ship and quietly get Locambius back. If we’re careful, they may not even know he’s gone for a whole night.”
Peek looked at the sketch on the ground for a moment before responding, “I know we can catch them, but how will we sneak on board? They have fire-magic and could burn our boat before we got close to them.”
“I’m not as limited as the monks in what I can do,” Plafius said.
Peek clenched his jaw, remembering the deaths — and near deaths — that had come from ignoring the limits of the song-magic, “So, you’ll disobey the scriptures to help Locambius?”
“What did I tell you about scriptures, Peek?” Plafius asked.
Peek was surprised he remembered the conversation, “You said they were like a record of good fishing spots.”
“Yes, but what does that mean?” Plafius moved his hand in a small circle as if to draw the information out of Peek.
Peek thought for a moment and said, “I guess it means that they are useful until they aren’t.”
“That’s a succinct way to put it,” Plafius smiled, “I trust the scriptures, but I trust what they describe more.”
“What does that mean?” Peek frowned.
“I’m happy enough when someone tells me where to fish,” Plafius moved his hands as if weighing two things against each other, “but I’m much happier when I catch fish.”
Dray punched Plafius in the shoulder, “Don’t pay attention to him. He gets like this where he just talks in riddles. It’s almost better when he’s drunk.” She smiled at him before turning to Peek, “I’v
e never seen these scriptures, so I don’t know what the fuss is about. All I know is that the song that made us dance back then is still playing and it keeps getting better.”
“To be practical,” Plafius looked pointedly at Dray as he said the first words, “we can do magic that will hide us from the raiders and put them to sleep while we’re on their ship. If we do it right, they won’t see us or know we were ever there.”
“I don’t think I can join you,” Peek felt like he approached the edge of a cliff, “Locambius would—”
“You don’t have to do our kind of magic if you don’t want to,” Plafius said. “We can do the work, we just need you to tell us which ship he’s on.”
“What?” Peek furrowed his brow.
“You saw a vision, Peek,” Plafius looked at him pointedly, “You told me about it when you woke up.”
“How did you—”
Plafius smiled, “Visions are from The Melody.”
Peek rocked back on his heels. He didn’t know why the visions had come to him, but didn’t think they were related to The Melody. Suddenly the reaction of the monks after his first breathing exercise became clear. They knew he had a vision and that it came from The Melody.
“What do we do next?” Peek asked, hoping to change the subject.
“We should go to the monastery and gather supplies. Peek, you don’t have to use magic the way that we do, but it will be good to have you doing something. Are you willing to play the element songs?” Plafius asked.
“I think that will be alright,” Peek nodded hesitantly, “As long as I’m not playing the evil music, I don’t see how they can object.”
“Evil?” Dray arched one eyebrow.
“Sorry,” Peek stammered, “I’m just saying what I was taught.”
“Perhaps, in time, you can be taught to say what you believe,” Plafius commented quietly as he rose and started walking back toward the village.