The Exiled Monk

by James T Wood

  Plafius shook his head vehemently, “Nothing’s wrong with you, Peek.”

  “They why do I keep messing up the magic?” Tears came, his voice cracked, Peek didn’t care.

  “You’re not messing up, Peek, just learning. It takes time.”

  “But what if I wreck it all? What if I…” he almost said, become an apostate. Peek couldn’t tell if Plafius knew that or not.

  “You won’t wreck anything, Peek,” Plafius said in a low, even voice.

  “But how can you know?” Peek looked up from his feet to stare at the aged monk named an apostate by the man they went to rescue.

  “I can’t,” he shrugged and then pointed to Peek, “Neither can you. We just have to keep going and hoping that what we’re doing is right.”

  “But what if we’re trying to do right and it all comes out wrong?”

  “Peek, if you’re honestly trying to do what’s right, I don’t think you can do what’s wrong.”

  “But I killed…” this time the tears stole his voice.

  Plafius reached out behind him and squeezed Peek’s knee, “Mistakes and accidents aren’t wrong. We practice to learn, but to learn we must also make mistakes. You are learning about The Melody. You have learned its power — and made some mistakes doing it — perhaps now you can begin to learn its wisdom.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Plafius stared off toward the horizon, “The Melody is not simply a source of magical power, even though the Markay would use it as such; it also offers wisdom.”

  “How can it do that?” Peek frowned.

  “Do you know the difference between discord and harmony?”

  Peek thought for a moment, “One sounds bad and the other sounds good.”

  Plafius gave a short laugh, “Succinct; I like it. If you speak words, or hear them, they ring with the music of The Melody. Words that are true sing in harmony with The Melody. Words that are false sound bad — as you put it.”

  “So I just have to say things and The Melody will tell me if they’re true or not?”

  “In so many words, yes,” Plafius slapped Peek on the knee as he released his grip, “You must learn to hear with both sets of ears. It is not an easy task. You must listen both to the speaker and The Melody at the same time. It takes concentration and practice to do, and years of work to do well.”

  “How will this help me with…” Peek groped for the right words.

  “With your enthusiasm?” Plafius supplied, “It will calm you and allow you to listen to The Melody without being overwhelmed by it. You must be able to think and hear the songs at the same time. You, right now at least, can only do one at a time.”

  “How can I start?” Peek looked up at Plafius.

  The old monk smiled, “Tell me if this statement is true or false: I drink more ale than I should.”

  “How—”

  Plafius held up his hand to cut Peek off, “Don’t ask me, ask The Melody.”

  Peek spent the entire rest of that day testing statements given to him by Plafius while Dray sang them closer to the raiders. Some of the statements were true and others were false. Slowly Peek determined how each one sang on its own and then compared them to The Melody. The truth of things became clearer all the time. He also understood why the monks were so concerned with him speaking truth, as well as so easily able to tell when he had lied to them.

  At sunset Plafius called a halt and Dray stopped singing. She immediately drank from a water skin and started eating large chunks of bread. Peek realized how difficult it must have been for her to sing without stopping for so long. He looked at her with a mixture of awe and pride. Between her bites of bread, she caught him looking and gave him a questioning look. In response he simply smiled at her.

  “We are nearing the raiders,” Plafius said, “if I haven’t guessed wrong, so we must wait now. The sun will set and give us some cover. We will need to use fog again to get ourselves past the other ships. Once we’re to Svag’s ship we’ll have to put the watchmen to sleep one by one before freeing Locambius,” Plafius looked at the two young people for a moment and then nodded.

  “What do you want me to do?” Peek asked.

  “Will you be able to push us with the wind while Dray creates the fog?”

  “I think so,” Peek questioned himself before continuing, “If I can’t do it with song, I can paddle us.”

  “Good,” Plafius said, “While we wait you can practice another wisdom skill. Think of playing a song and then think about how it would align with The Melody.”

  “Just think about it?” Peek furrowed his brow.

  “Yes, don’t play or sing the song, just listen to The Melody and imagine how your song would fit.”

  “I’ll try…” Peek wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to do.

  First he imagined the “song” that broke the spell protecting the island. Peek expected that to be clearly wrong and at odds with The Melody, but it seemed to line up. It wasn’t perfect, but the notes provided a counterpoint to each other that flowed in a pleasant way.

  Next he thought about the wall he made to protect the wind-singers from the arrows of the raiders. The Melody flowed with it in harmony. Peek thought of examining the fire and water song that killed the raiders and monks, but grief and shame held him back.

  “I hear some that are in harmony with The Melody and others that provide a counterpoint to it. What does that mean?”

  “Harmony is wisdom,” Plafius nodded, “What do you think counterpoint is?”

  Peek thought about it for a time trying to determine what might be the counterpoint to wisdom. A counterpoint wasn’t contradictory, but it wasn’t complementary either. Counterpoint wasn’t folly, but it wasn’t wisdom. What was between them?

  “Is counterpoint our choice?” Peek offered.

  “That is one way of saying it,” Plafius’ gave an appraising look before turning to face his apprentice, “How was it you described it, Dray?”

  She thought for a moment, finishing a mouthful of food before saying, “I think I said that it was trial and error. Those are the places where we can explore and learn.”

  Peek formed the words one by one, testing them against The Melody, “So it’s not necessarily wrong, but not necessarily right?”

  Plafius nodded, “Something like that, but now we’re getting into places that Locambius would prefer I not talk about. He considers anything that is counter to The Melody to be a sin.”

  Peek looked down at his feet, clad in leather sandals, trying to figure out what would be the right choice here. He desperately wanted to know more about The Melody and how to follow it, but he didn’t want to offend Locambius while they went to rescue him. That seemed a worse betrayal than simply leaving him to the raiders.

  He watched the stars emerge over the water, and he heard them sing their song to the sea. The music surrounded him when he stopped to hear it. It lapped at the edges of his mind waiting to be let in and heard. For a long time he sat there wondering how it was all supposed to work.

  “Well children,” Plafius said, “It’s about time to go. Are you ready?”

  Twenty-Eight

  So Darrah, and those few who chose to follow her away from the great city, set out for the West. They traveled to the edge of Eytskaim’s kingdom and beyond. There they found a fierce, wild land filled with fierce, wild people.

  Darrah sought The Melody and found another place like the Tree of Eytskaim where the veil between worlds is thin and the sound of The Melody seeps through easily. Near that place she built a stone wall and stone huts. That was the first monastery of the Darrian Monks. At Darrah’s bidding they built an extra hut for any who might want to join their order.

  Slowly at first people would come to discover who these strange, settled people were. They did not migrate with their flocks but were settled in one place. In the beginning conversation was slow as the monks learned the language of their new land, but eventually they began to invite the curious to stay in th
e hut and learn the ways of The Melody.

  “The search for power leads down the path of the lost.” Dunam of Mistrak

  W

  hen they saw the lanterns glowing from the Markay ships Dray stopped singing the wind-song and their canoe drifted to a halt. They had prepared and practiced; words were no longer necessary. Dray sang cold. This time Peek sensed a difference. It was a deeper, more resonant sound that pulled the heat from the air. Dray’s breath sparkled with tiny ice crystals as she sang.

  Plafius observed the gathered ships. They had sea anchors out for the night and most of the raiders were asleep after a long day of rowing. It took much longer for the fog to envelop the gathered ships than it did the small longboat. Peek grew impatient waiting for the fog to gather and thicken. He thought again about The Melody and it’s wisdom. He compared Dray’s song to The Melody and heard its truth. Next he listened to Plafius’ song; it was ringing with wisdom. How, Peek wondered, could these songs endorsed by The Melody be wrong? He could not ask, but he suspected the answer Plafius would give: they were not wrong, just different.

  The pull between Locambius’ forgiveness and Plafius’ freedom stretched Peek between them. If they both trusted in the same Melody, how could they come to such different conclusions? How could Peek know which one was right? By the test of The Melody, they were both right. What is the path when two choices are right? Peek looked forward from the back of his canoe at Dray and Plafius working together with different songs. They did not clash, even though the songs were separate. Instead, they flowed together and created something bigger through their joined music.

  Plafius turned and nodded to Peek. He realized, after a moment, that he had a job to do as well. He played the wind-song on his acolyte’s pipes and they slowly moved closer to the raiders. Instead of steering well away of the ships, Peek pointed them straight at the group. He kept their speed low and the song quiet. When they got just to the edge of the fog, Peek stopped playing; Dray and Plafius had stopped their music shortly before that. Peek slipped his paddle into the water and propelled them forward as silently as he knew how. His experience at fishing showed. The canoe moved imperceptibly in the fog, as if they were unmoving in a gray world of water.

  At first Peek thought it was echoes of The Melody pushing through the veil, but eventually he realized that Dray was quietly humming. He didn’t know what she was singing until the black hull of a ship emerged out of the dense cloud no more than a few feet in front of them. Peek braked hard, holding his paddle against the water with all his strength. It wasn’t enough. They were about to collide with the Markay ship.

  The bow of the canoe stopped a foot short of the ship’s hull and slid off to the right. Dray looked back at Peek and winked while she kept humming her tune. Peek’s panicked heartbeat slowed as he realized what she was doing. He slid his paddle into the water again and guided them around the ship. Plafius had taken a sighting of Svag’s vessel before the fog closed in and Peek guided them as well as he could, but the slow drift of the ships tugging at their sea anchors moved a boat in their way. Peek hoped that he could find the right heading in the disorienting fog. Plafius pointed to the left once they cleared the bow of the ship they’d nearly rammed. Peek trusted the man for lack of any better option.

  The next ship that emerged from the night was much larger than the first, Svag’s ship. Peek stopped them, without needing Dray’s magic to cushion the blow this time, and they set to work. Dray sang a different tune as softly as she could. In the distance a faint rumble sounded. Peek and Plafius readied the grappling hooks they had pilfered from the raiders. Another peal of thunder sounded closer. At a signal from Dray they started swinging their hooks back and forth. She nodded again and they threw the hooks up over the rail of the ship. At the moment they landed thunder clapped and lightning flashed from the opposite side of the ship.

  They waited. Dray sent the thunder off in the distance with another peal and a distant flash. One final rumble on the horizon and she stopped singing. Peek and Plafius stood holding the ropes. The old monk turned and handed his to Dray. He was too old to climb aboard silently, if he could do it at all. He would wait in the boat and be ready for their escape, as they had planned.

  Peek and Dray set their feet against the side of the boat and walked up the hull to the railing. At the top, Peek slipped his head over and back down quickly. He looked at Dray and shook his head once. He looked again and then nodded to his left. Dray nodded in response. They climbed over the railing and Peek crouched in front of Dray while she sang a whisper of a song. The notes were barely more than breaths, but even then the tune made Peek feel drowsy. He fought it and crept toward his left with Dray following. They reached the first watchman in a few seconds. By that time he had slumped over the rail and was fast asleep. Peek didn’t envy how he would feel on awakening from such an awkward sleeping position.

  From what Plafius had seen before the fog devoured the ships, there would be another watchman at the bow. They started slowly forward with Dray singing her song the entire way. The pace galled Peek. He wanted to run, to escape, to flee the raiders and never come back. But he knew that silence and stealth were wisdom. They reached the bow and then continued around to the port side of the ship before they found the other watchman. He fell to the ground and Peek had to grab him so he wouldn’t roll off the deck and into the galley where the other raiders were sleeping. There was no way Peek could have lifted the larger man, but he had the strength to cushion the fall and prevent a clatter.

  The ship had rows of benches in the galley surrounded by a walkway on the sides. The galley was covered by canvas for the night to allow the men some shelter from the cold and damp of an evening on the sea. In the middle of the galley, tied to the mast, was Locambius.

  Peek walked across one of the benches between sheets of canvas. Dray sang the song of sleep more freely, casting a net of drowsiness over the vessel to encourage the sleeping men to remain so. Step by agonizing step they slowly approached Locambius. He slouched against his bonds and his hair hung down obscuring his face; the braid was completely gone by now. When they got closer Peek could see dried blood spattered down the front of his robes and caked into his beard.

  Peek touched his shoulder. He started with gentle pressure and slowly squeezed until Locambius looked up at him. His eyes were hollow, hopeless, and dark. He stared at Peek without comprehension, like a dog taken ill and ready to bite its owner.

  “It’s me,” Peek barely breathed the words, “here to rescue you. Can you stand?”

  Locambius moved his head slightly; Peek took it for a nod. He drew his knife and sawed at the rope that held the leader of the monks. The moments that it took to sever the bonds that held Locambius stretched interminably so that Peek thought they would never leave. But the last strand of the last rope gave way and Locambius fell into Peek’s arms.

  “It’s okay,” Peek said, “we have a boat—”

  “What?” Locambius demanded in a voice far too loud.

  Peek tried to hush him and move the old man toward safety, but he stiffened in Peek’s grasp.

  “We must go. We’ll talk later,” Peek whispered and shoved at Locambius.

  “Who is with you?” Locambius asked in full voice.

  Peek looked at his mentor and friend. How could he answer that? Locambius wanted nothing to do with Plafius, but would hear a lie straight away. Peek opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t form words. While he groped for something to say, Locambius stood straight and looked around. In a moment he saw Dray crouched behind Peek. He watched the thoughts flow through the old monk’s mind. He looked around at the fog and, as if for the first time, listened to the sleepy song that Dray sang. His fists balled up for a moment before he splayed his fingers straight out. The fire in his eyes reminded Peek of Vlek in the moments before he would get violent.

  “How dare you?” Locambius lip curled into a snarl, “Silence take you all!”

  Peek held up his hands to shush and molli
fy, “We came to rescue you. Let’s go.”

  “Why would I go anywhere with an apostate?” the word sounded like a curse from his lips. Around them raiders were starting to stir, despite Dray’s singing.

  “It was his idea,” Peek hissed the words, not daring to speak aloud, “He couldn’t leave you. Rudi and Bracius gave up. Plafius wouldn’t.”

  “He already did,” Locambius stepped close to Peek pulled him into a rough embrace, “Don’t follow him. He will lead you to hell.”

  Locambius stepped away, and it wasn’t until he started playing the wind-song that Peek realized the pipes from his belt were gone. The fog started moving in eddies and swirls at first, but soon it scoured away and the twinkling stars showed bright against the night sky. The watchmen from the other ships began calling out and then shouting as they saw Plafius in the canoe and Locambius free on Svag’s ship.

  Dray stood and sang in full voice. Her song didn’t change, but her target did. Locambius dropped as if he’d been poleaxed. His song ceased. Peek stooped to lift the man and Dray grabbed the other side. Together they dragged him to the edge of the ship and looked down for Plafius. He was gone.

  They turned at a roar from behind. Svag emerged from beneath the canvas at the stern of the ship his beard was unkempt from sleep making him look even more like an angry bear. Behind him more raiders arose and found weapons. They stalked closer to the trio at the rail of the ship. Peek groped for his pipes. Locambius had dropped them when he fell asleep. They were somewhere in the galley. Peek turned to Dray. He didn’t need words to communicate. She nodded and sang while Peek took the full brunt of Locambius’ weight.

  She sang wind that blew into the faces of the raiders, pushing them back for a moment, then she switched to water that rose up from the ocean to drench the decks and drive the warriors to their feet. It also woke everyone who was still clinging to slumber. The shouts went up from the entire ship and were echoed by the rest of the fleet. Before she could sing something else the song of cold came wafting over the rail of the ship. Peek looked back and saw Plafius sitting in the canoe below them playing his dual reeds.