Thomas

by Michael G. Manning

  Brother Jenkins was a small man, neat in appearance as always. Thomas had rarely heard him speak other than during the morning services. “The censer was last used yesterday, at the dawn awakening.” The dawn awakening was the name of their morning ritual to honor the sun. “Afterwards I put them in the chest at the base of the altar as a matter of habit. Although I didn't make note of it at the time, I'm fairly certain the candlesticks were in their places then as well. I would have noticed had they been absent.”

  Tremmond spoke, “Did you use them again after that point?”

  “No sir, I didn't. The next time I saw them was when we recovered them from Thomas' cell,” answered Jenkins. His words brought a shocked look to Thomas' face, his worst fears were coming to pass.

  “Where were they located in his cell?”

  “They were clumsily hidden, beneath his mattress.”

  “How much would these items be valued at, on the common market?” continued Tremmond.

  “I'm not sure, but our cost to replace them would likely run to more than forty gold,” responded the priest.

  “Thank you, Brother Jenkins, your testimony was most insightful,” Father Tremmond took a deep breath, preparing to continue...

  “Why did you search my room? Does my poverty make me automatically suspect?!” Thomas felt his fear replaced by a low anger. Even as he spoke he could see Father Whitmire frowning at him, warning him to silence.

  “Young man you will remain silent until addressed, or I will cut the proceedings short and move straight to the punitive phase.” Tremmond's voice was calm, but contained an undercurrent of hard steel. “Now if we may continue, Brother Simon step forward.”

  Thomas' teacher stepped up, “If it please you, I will answer all questions as truthfully as possible.”

  “You were put in charge of the search were you not?”

  “Yes, your honor.”

  “For the benefit of the accused will you explain why?” Tremmond stared at Thomas as he said this.

  “By temple policy the first place searched after any theft within the grounds is the student's dormitory. Since I am their house master, I generally lead the searches there in these cases.”

  “Was Thomas' room the first you searched?”

  “No, your honor, being on the second floor it was probably around the twentieth or so, I didn't count.” Brother Simon looked distinctly uncomfortable.

  “Thank you, Brother, you may return to your place.” Simon stepped back and Father Tremmond continued, “Thomas, this court will now question you, but before we continue I must warn you that this chamber is under a spell to prevent falsehoods. Any attempt to commit perjury will meet with failure and only make your position worse.”

  “Begging your pardon sir, the spell didn't take hold, not that I would lie anyway,” Thomas felt sure that the priests would know their magic hadn't worked either way.

  “You realize that your admission casts doubt on any testimony you give from this point?” Father Tremmond seemed genuinely puzzled.

  Father Whitmire broke in, “It should also serve to reinforce the lad's reputation for honesty.”

  Tremmond glared at the abbot, “Your grace, although you hold the esteemed position of abbot over our temple, may I remind you that I am in charge of this court? Any further interruptions are likely to hurt his case despite your good intentions.”

  The elder priest barely concealed his anger as he tried to hold his tongue, “Of course, you are correct your honor, please pardon my remark, I merely wished to remind the court that Thomas has been a model student in past.”

  “I will keep that in mind before making any decisions, now if you don't mind?” Father Tremmond could make a career out of looking annoyed.

  “Thomas, did you steal the censer and candlesticks in question?'

  “No sir,” Thomas had a sinking feeling that nothing he said would make a difference.

  “Do you know how the items came to be in your room?”

  “No sir.”

  “You realize that without some better evidence I will be forced to find you guilty?” For a moment, the priest turned judge seemed almost sympathetic.

  “Yes sir, unfortunately I have no defense to offer other than my character, and given the circumstances that seems like it won't be enough to satisfy anyone.” Thomas met the judge's eyes squarely, refusing to act the part of a criminal.

  “The sentence for theft of temple property, by any member of the temple, is expulsion. After which you will be remanded to the city authorities for low justice. If there is no further evidence or commentary, I will proceed with...” A loud noise broke the silence and some shouting could be heard from the hallway outside.

  “Wait! Wait! Let me get me say!” Standing in the door was an angry dwarf. Grom appeared to have been running, and still wore his leather apron.

  He must have heard and come straight from his work. Thomas winced inwardly, knowing that it would not help Grom's own standing at the temple, if he annoyed the temple justicer.

  The paladin guarding the room seemed unsure what to make of the intrusion. Moving forward he looked ready to deal with Grom in a forceful fashion. “Let him speak!” This came from Father Whitmire, and the guard stopped, uncertain.

  “Let him in, we'll hear his words.” Father Tremmond remained calm despite the tension in the room. Brushing a bit of soot from his apron, Grom moved forward.

  “Yer honor I saw another student entering Thomas' room last night.” The short statement stopped everyone in their tracks.

  “When did you see this?”

  “Early this morning, the first bell after midnight.” Calm now, the dwarf kept his words simple and straightforward.

  “Did you recognize this student?”

  “Yes sir, ‘twas Ivan, and a right scoundrel he is,” he couldn't hide his poor opinion of the other boy, so he didn't even try.

  “You didn't have any difficulty picking out his features in a darkened corridor? The lights would have been out long before this.” Tremmond was careful in his questioning.

  “Beggin' your pardon your honor, my people live under the ground, a darkened corridor is nearly as bright to me as daytime is to you. It was no trouble to see the rogue's face, though I doubt me that he noticed me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Cuz if he had, he'd have run off without attempting his bit of skullduggery,” Grom showed some satisfaction at that.

  “How did you come to be following a student about the dormitory at that late hour?” The priest was clearly suspicious.

  “I live on that floor yer honor.” The dwarf remained calm, although inwardly he was beginning to worry at the direction the questions were leading.

  “And what caused you to be in the hallway at that hour, Master Dwarf?”

  “I was returnin’ from a small errand when I saw Ivan climbin’ over the outside wall.” Grom could have lied, but he wasn’t about to taint his story with a fabrication now.

  “You saw this from the dormitory?” The tension in the room had risen, and Tremmond had raised an eyebrow with this question.

  “No sir, I saw it from the street outside. After that I kept me distance and followed him back to the dormitory. At the time I figger’d he was just up to some schoolboy prank.” A trickle of sweat ran down the dwarf’s temple, leaving the temple grounds at night was a violation of his parole. In fact, he had gone to give money to Alec’s mother, something he had done anonymously several times in the past. But he wasn’t about to dishonor her by admitting this.

  “For what reason did you leave the temple grounds?” Tremmond was well aware of the terms of Grom’s parole.

  “That I cannot say sir, but to assure you it was for no evil deed. I felt it was necessary, or I’d not have taken the risk, but I felt I had to make good on a debt to a friend.” Inwardly Grom resigned himself, with his admission he’d as good as sentenced himself to five years’ labor at the mines.

  “Grom, you know of the condi
tions of your parole. You must also be aware that should you abrogate those conditions, you may be held to the full penalty you were given by the city magistrate. Of more concern to me is the fact that the temple would face a loss of the monies paid to secure your parole. Does none of this concern you in the least?” The priest’s voice was rising in volume and stridence as he spoke.

  “Yes sir, it does. The temple has been good to me. I have no excuse but to say I am prepared to accept the result of my action. I made a choice and I’ll stand…”

  “You put the reputation of this temple and the good men and women who took you in at stake! I could have you turned over to the magistrate now, to face the consequences!” Thomas’ heart sank at those words, but then Tremmond’s face softened slightly. “Still, it has not escaped our notice that your sentence was unjustly given. Therefore, we will give you a choice: you may accept three lashes tomorrow at noon, before the eyes of everyone at this temple, in payment for the shame you nearly brought upon us, or you will be remanded to the magistrate to serve your full sentence. How choose you, master dwarf?” A hush had fallen over the room.

  Grom’s head had dipped a bit while listening to the justice’s speech, but as he spoke he lifted his chin and met the man’s eyes proudly, “I’ll be takin’ the lashes yer honor, and glad fer yer mercy.”

  This was too much for Thomas, “No! You can’t do that, it’s not fair!” The words burst out, but Father Whitmire was already beside him and laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  “Please remove them from the courtroom. We’ll take a short recess while Ivan is summoned to make an accounting.” Thomas found himself being ushered from the room.

  Chapter 5

  The Hidden Sun

  The morning moved with agonizing slowness. The dawn had come brightly, as it often did, cheerful and full of sunshine and birdsong. Yet Thomas felt at odds with the weather, today was no day for clear skies and warm sun. Today his friend was to be whipped, in part for defending him.

  Ivan had been expelled the day before. He would have received lashes as well, for theft and his attempt to destroy Thomas’ reputation, but his father had paid a fine of two-hundred gold to avoid shame to the family. Thomas got no joy from that however, he hadn’t really hated Ivan to begin with. That the young nobleman had felt enough ill will to actually try to get Thomas whipped and expelled left him confused. In any event, he couldn’t get past his own feeling of dread knowing Grom would be receiving lashes, for what seemed a harmless act.

  In spite of the way time dragged, noon arrived, and all too soon. The main courtyard slowly filled with people as the entire temple populace turned out for Grom’s punishment. Thomas was amazed that so many people lived and worked there, for he had never seen them gathered all at once. A man stood by the post in the center of the yard. He had never paid much attention to it before, but now he noticed the large iron nail protruding at the top, presumably to attach the manacles of those to be punished. The man holding the whip was one of the temple guards, but Thomas didn’t recognize him.

  A few minutes before noon Grom walked out, unescorted. Trailing behind him were two guards, but they seemed unnecessary. The dwarf proudly approached the post, unfettered and unforced. He stepped up to the post and looked squarely in the eye of the man that held the whip, “Good mornin’”

  “If you’ll remove your shirt please, and we’ll need to bind your wrists to keep you in place.” The guard seemed almost deferential; the story of Grom’s testimony had already made its rounds in the guard house. Without intending it, Grom had won the respect of more than a few guards for his fearless testimony. Indeed, it would have been hard to find anyone in the courtyard that day who truly felt Grom’s punishment was deserved. Nonetheless, it was unavoidable.

  “Nah nah… let me do this me own way, an if you need to bind me I’ll gladly take a fourth stroke.” So saying, the dwarf removed his shirt and wound it into a tight cord, wrapping it around his hands he put the middle over the nail. With his back facing the crowd, Thomas was surprised to see a few silver lines across the broad dwarven shoulders. This isn’t his first time to be whipped. Could that have been from his time before he left home? As usual, more questions than answers went through Thomas’ mind.

  The whip uncoiled like a deadly snake, graceful almost, as it swung back, before it came forward again. Slicing through the air it struck Grom’s back with an ugly sound, leaving a long line across his back with blood welling up. On the second stroke droplets of blood flew out, and Grom’s body convulsed, his hands gripping his shirt as his knees buckled for a moment. Straightening back up, Thomas could see his face had gone ash white, but the proud expression on his face was still there.

  The third stroke came after a brief pause, which made it seem even crueler. As it landed a small grunt escaped the dwarf’s lips while his body strained to remain in place. Although his lashes were done, he didn’t move for a minute or more, taking deep breaths, Grom’s muscles were locked, and it seemed to take him a while to relax enough to release his shirt and step away.

  A cloud passed over the sun, hiding its face, as though the goddess herself were ashamed to see what had happened. In the sudden gloom Thomas noticed a familiar face at the front of the crowd. A face he had never expected to see again. Quietly moving forward, Sarah approached Grom, ignoring the guards on either side. If one were to look closely, a bright red droplet of blood stood out on her cheek, a memento of the dwarf’s pain.

  Thomas himself was utterly surprised to see her there. She looked just the same as she had two years before. Small, thin, a ragged shift covered her body. Stopping a foot from Grom, he could see tears welling in her eyes, spilling over to trace silent tracks down her smudged cheeks.

  The sky grew even darker as the thin girl moved up beside the dwarf. Their bodies were a study in stark contrasts. Lithe to the point of being too thin, the girl looked incredibly frail next to the broad muscular form of the dwarf, even though she was slightly taller. Reaching up her hand traced a bloody line across his back, blood smearing across her pale hand.

  Transfixed, Thomas was unable to comprehend what he was seeing. The world had gone dark, with the only light seeming to radiate softly from the girl and her red-gold hair. Looking about, Thomas realized he was the only one left standing, everyone else in the courtyard from the eldest of priests to the smallest of children had fallen to their knees, heads bowed; some were openly crying. Sarah looked over the crowd and opened her mouth to speak.

  “You should be ashamed!” Her anger lashed the crowd like a physical blow. “You have taken one innocent of wrongdoing, and this is how you treat him? When did my house become a temple honoring pain? When did my house become a home for injustice? This is not what I have taught!”

  Father Tremmond finally spoke up, lifting his head, “Lady, I sought only to keep the law. Please forgive these people, for they have done no wrong.”

  “An’ now ye know me. You whose arrogance blinded you! Now you know humility, after blood has been spilled. As I have darkened the sky, now I darken your eyes, that you may see the light better. Remember this day.” At that point Father Tremmond's eyes glazed over with a fine haze. “Your words are spoken fairly, but everyone here will remember this day with shame, for you are all guilty in some part.”

  Reaching out liquid gold spilled from her bloodied hand, washing over Grom's torn skin, and where it passed over the skin was left smooth and unblemished. Falling to his knees at last, Grom thanked her and begged her forgiveness for the people present. “I know ye not lass, but if you are the Morningflower I beg you to show mercy today. These folk have given me far more than the hurt I received. They are not perfect, nor am I, but their hearts are mainly kind, and they worship you as best they can, despite their flaws.”

  Looking deeply into Grom's dark eyes, Sarah smiled, and with her smile the sun emerged, returning light and warmth to the courtyard. “You do not know me, son of the earth, but your heart is true. You have my blessing, thou
gh in time you may come to rue it. Even I cannot protect you from the sorrows the future will bring.”

  Thomas, still standing, made as if to speak, but as soon as his mouth opened time froze in place. Don't Thomas. This is not the time. If I answer your questions now it might lead to the blight of all creation. Be at peace, and remember that time.

  She was gone. Time snapped back into place, and Thomas found himself with tears in his eyes. The sun shone down with such brilliance he felt blinded, and quietly he sank to his knees to join the others in silent prayer.

  It was some days before things returned to normal. The temple was ablaze with talk each day as everyone shared their story of the event. Of particular interest, was the fact that most saw something entirely different from what Thomas had seen. Where he had seen an orphan girl, with wild unkempt hair, most had witnessed Delwyn in all her glory, wielding a flaming sword in one hand, and holding the sun in the other. That day had taught them humility, but it also gave them new hope, for they knew the Morningflower was still active, still vigilant, and still cared, despite the hard realities of life.

  Even more curious, the next week Grom presented himself to Father Whitmire, asking to be entered into the rolls as one of Delwyn's followers. He was the first child of Dramig to do so in more than a generation, and dwarves have very long generations.

  ***

  A woman walked the street, alone and without purpose. Passersby, had they looked at her, would have been taken by her beauty. Ruffled and weary she held an air about her that would give any man pause. Her raven hair was tied back, and her clothes, while worn and travel stained were of a quality that hinted at money. Pale skin offset her black hair, and made her blue eyes seem to blaze, like icy jewels.

  Evening had stolen upon her, and the light was fading quickly. The infrequent streetlamps assured that Islana would soon have difficulty finding her way in the dark. Storm clouds were threatening, and she knew she needed to find shelter soon, before the inns shuttered windows and barred their doors. Few would let a stranger in at night with a storm brewing.