Once in a while, a bar patron becomes overly obnoxious, and a brief scuffle ensues, resulting in someone being punched and someone hitting the floor. The fight is quelled though before it arouses the attention of one of the Brethren, who sit at a large oval table in the center of the room. The Brethren feign indifference and appear to be preoccupied with their own game, but they are always watching.
The boisterous crowd is so loud that the words of the piano player can barely be discerned; though the musician tries hard to compensate for it by belching out his words as loud as possible. Because of his over-compensation, his voice lacks the pleasant melody it usually would have had.
Dante and Cammilia make their way around the tables, Cammilia sniffing the abundance of unusual and hunger-inducing smells she is unaccustomed to. She becomes distracted at times, and Dante is forced to call out to her sharply. The Brethren’s wolves are used to this place and had their treats of slow-roasted effer-pheasant. With bellies satiated, they lay around at their master’s feet, enjoying their presence despite the boorish crowd.
The sound of Dottore and Merlin soon become apparent and so the pair ventures closer. “Germanicus was never trig save for one instance. Do you not remember the time that we put up the boa in the outertrine, properly de-commisioned of course?” reminisces Domithicus.
“I remember it well,” replies Syrus with a big shit eating grin.
“As do I,” remembers Savelle.
“I’ll never forget it,” replies Germanicus, a dour look on his face.
“Do tell it, Domithicus. I would hear it again,” says Ithicus.
“Oh, you are a tripe one, aren’t you?” says Germanicus facetiously.
“The decommissioned boa goes up through the privy all slithering and slow, arousing the Dottore, allegedly biting him on the hind quarters.” The others laugh boisterously, save for Germanicus, who still looks annoyed.
“So, fast as a leopard Germanicus comes rushing out, crashing through the door and yelling at the top of his lungs, proclaiming high and mighty ‘I’ve been bitten! I’ve been bitten! So fast did he come through the door that his dingy is still hanging out he pulls up his pants, still yelling at the top of his lungs, ‘I’ve been bitten! I’ve been bitten!” Merlin, Syrus, Savelle, Ithicus and Atticus all laugh boisterously, while Germanicus slams his fist down on the table, while a reluctant smile slowly forms.
“Well, of course, Germanicus’ ruckus naturally aroused the worry of Menelaeus and Vangelis, tutor and apothecary at the time. Germanicus yells about bein’ bit on the backside by the poisonous boa and begged for aid. He even flexes up, shivered himself to bits and all sorts of shenanigans that was likely to garner him much sympathy. Naturally, Vangelis, feeling compassion for the poor boy, plays considerable nurse-maid and examines Germanicus.”
“And what happened to Germanicus? What did he find?” asks Atticus.
“Well,” explains Domithicus, glancing at Germanicus ruefully. “As hide would have its course, Germanicus was not bitten at all. Turns out, he heard the snake in the trin, panicked most obnoxiously, jumped up, fell on his ass, hitting a nail and then high-tailed it out of there as quickly as he could. He was convinced he was bitten. And yet, even if he had been bitten, it would have been to no avail, being that the snake had been properly de-commisioned, as it were.” The brothers laugh boisterously, and this time Germanicus joins in.
Merlin laughs as well, patting Germanicus on the back. “Is that how you remember it Germanicus?” asks Merlin.
“I was thirteen at the time. It was a mean-spirited prank,” recalls Germanicus.
“And one that still brings pleasure to our telling of it, Brother,” gaffs Atticus.
“It was not so pleasurable at the time, I assure you.” The others laugh heartily at this statement. After the laughter had died down, they resume their game but look around suspiciously, inconspicuously noting that one of their recruits had ventured into the pub and is eavesdropping. Though no one says anything, the consensus is clear though unspoken. It is Germanicus or Merlin’s place to say something.
Germanicus pulls a coin from his pile and twirls it around his finger, hypnotically fast and then propels it towards Dante, hoping to smack him in the head, but Dante is much too quick. He reflexively snatches the coin a fraction of a second before it collides with his temple. “Get out runt! Go back to school. You are not a Brother.”
Merlin holds up his hand in a ‘stopping’ gesture. “Germanicus, it’s his recess. Permit the boy a few minutes to pass with us. Will you not?” Germanicus shrugs, reluctantly deferring to Merlin’s decision. “You should not show the boy favor. It can be a bad precedent.”
“Vangelis showed me favor when you had begun your campaign of ostracism against me. Do you not remember?”
“Ai. And look how it has influenced you.” Germanicus says it in jest, smiling playfully at Merlin. Merlin is not amused, his expression deadpan.
Germanicus quickly retraces his steps. “Do not mistake intent, Merlin. I meant no offense. I would be honored to have the boy join us.”
“Gratitude, Dottore. And no offense taken.” Germanicus nods.
“Please join us, Dante,” says Merlin.
Dante peers out from under the table. Cammilia follows him as he makes his way to their table, sniffing at the Brethren’s wolves. Being unaccustomed to her, the other Brethren’s wolves eagerly greet her, sniffing her enthusiastically. Shadow is more than familiar with her and merely gives her a casual sniff on the rear and a friendly wag of his tail.
Once the wolves are done with their communal greeting, they return to their master’s feet. “Dante, you remember the other Brethren?” asks Germanicus.
“Ai. It’s been a while, but I do.”
“Syrus, Savelle, Atticus, Ithicus, Cotteroy, and Jamison, the Luddite.” Each of the Brethren nods their heads in affirmation when Germanicus mentions them.
Dante bows to them. “We are well met. An honor to be in your company. God willing, I may someday count myself among you.” He says.
“Would be an honor to have you in our ranks, young Sai,” says Ithicus.
“Ai,” chime in the others. “We are well met.” They say proudly in unison.
Dante walks over to Merlin. “Germanicus, your knapsack,” says Merlin.
“To what purpose?” asks Germanicus. And then it dawns on him. “Oh.”
With lightning quick reflexes, Merlin grabs Germanicus knapsack and then his own, placing them on the chair next to him, making a makeshift booster seat. Dante sits down in the chair and smiles. He now sits at the same height as the Brethren. For over a year, he had been singled out for elimination by Maximus. He now feels special for being singled out and his heart swells.
“How fareth you young Sai? Rumor has it you have been targeted by Maximus. It is a high honor. Makes for a bit of a lonely life in the meantime, but it is meaningful.” Domithicus eyes Merlin. “Perhaps even portentous, as some of us would believe.” Merlin nods in affirmation.
“I have Cammilia.”
“She serves you well. Do you ken that Merlin was targeted as well?”
“Ai. Was privy.”
“Have you ever played diamonds, young Sai?” asks Ithicus.
“No, but my Father played. He said it was not a game for pubes.”
“A wise man,” remarks Syrus. The others snicker briefly.
“I’ll teach you, Dante,” says Merlin. “You have taken well to your studies in Braille, have you not?”
“Ai. My digits do my reading.”
Merlin draws closer to Dante in order to instruct him. “Pay privy. There are six shapes-clubs, diamonds, clovers, pentagram, charms and raptor.” Merlin gently takes Dante’s hand and demonstrates the shape of the symbols. “Do you ken?”
“Ai,” replies Dante.
“Good. Diamonds are a royal suite, so if you have consecutive numbers with the same suite, you can also use a diamond to complete the sequence with any suite. It is royal. If you have con
secutive numbers of the same symbol, you have a royal flush, which is the second highest hand you can have. If, however, you have consecutive numbers with all diamonds, then you have a supreme royal flush, an unbeatable hand. It trumps anything. Do you ken?”
Dante nods.
“Good. You can have three of a kind, two of a kind and so on. You can also have consecutive numbers of different suits. They’re just called flushes. A partial flush is four or five consecutive cards of any suit. They just have to be consecutive. Each hand is comprised of nine cards. Do you ken?”
“Ai.”
“Good. Play a hand, and you will acquaint yourself more thoroughly. There are many more rules and procedures during play, but you will learn quickly.”
“Ai. I would love to.”
The Brethren resume their game, along with Dante. As to be expected, he is a quick study, and by the third hand, he had mastered most of the rules. He had become quite proficient in Braille and can easily decipher the card with a quick, barely cognizant touch of the card, much like Merlin. The Brethren are impressed. By the fourth hand, he had lost half the marbles he had been allocated for the game; but by the fifth hand, he had won a small portion back. Merlin surreptitiously slips him a winning hand unbeknownst to the Brethren, until he smiles sheepishly, alerting them to his move. The other Brethren smile back, except for Germanicus who looks scornful.
With a half hour left for recess and sensing that Merlin wants some one on one time with his student, the other Brethren leave.
Merlin turns towards Dante. “It’s lonely is it not, boy? To be so alienated from your classmates? You are one of them and yet they exclude you. It is the way of true leaders. You must reach inside yourself. And pray.”
“Ai.” Cammilia lays her head in his lap, sensing his lonely spirit. “But I have Cammilia.”
“You are luckier than I, for I didn’t have Shadow until my second year. Shadow and I were one and the same in many ways. He was a supreme alpha male, so much so that he would not defer to a human master. He was on the verge of being thrown out into the wild because of it. He could not make the transition. He was only able to bond with me, almost as if he were waiting for me to show up as if he knew. It was a portentous moment, much like the one when I met you in that ratshamble over a year and a half ago. Do you ken?”
“I do.”
“You and I are very much alike Dante. We were both forsaken. Given up for dead. Deserted. But it was an illusion. We were chosen to suit God’s purpose. Do you ken?”
“Ai. ‘’
“I don’t believe you came here to fail.”
“Ai.” Dante and Merlin both pause, Merlin reminiscing about the tragic circumstances that brought him to Lycenea and Dante trying not to remember his painful past. Instead, he tries to imagine an illustrious future as one of the Brethren.
Not intending to pick up his thoughts, Merlin unconsciously picks them up as easily as a fisherman picks up stunned fish atop a calm pond. “Set watch and warrant it so, young Sai.”
Dante smiles at the implication. “I promise there will be time for bonding when your classmates have accepted you into their fold. But for now, you must be patient. “
“Ai. Dante seems to consider something, hesitates briefly but finally finds the courage to ask. “Merlin, what brought you here? You know my tale, but I want to know yours.”
“It is a tragic one, I assure you,” states Merlin with a hint of sadness.
“I would hear it if you are willing to tell it.”
Merlin turns his face up to the ceiling and briefly reminisces about the tragically, painful circumstances which brought him to this place. Though he harbored no grudge against his parents for selling him into slavery, at the time, he hated them.
Merlin’s physical scars had healed many years ago from the brutal and deplorable conditions as a slave in the mines at Cathrall, except for many deep, grooved and unsightly scars that cover his back. Many slaves had not survived the brutal torture, but Merlin was more resilient than most, physically and psychologically.
Chapter 21: The Story of Perronius Balcut (Merlin)
Henren Balcut loved his children, and he would have done anything for them. And yet, he is also pragmatic, and the undeniable and desperate circumstances of his life stared him in the face every morning just as his reflection in his mirror did. Before the Orachai had opened up their mine at Cathrall, the fishing in Lake Ponchen was abundant with fish, providing him a steady income and sustenance for his large family. He could use his profit to pay for fresh herbs, vegetables, and sometimes even fruits if the bounty of fish would allow it.
But after several months of mining, the explosive ballistas and chemicals they used to extract the gold began to seep into the ground water and then Lake Ponchen itself, poisoning the fish. No more was there an abundance of fish near the shores. Long days had to be spent to travel farther out into Lake Ponchen, and the pittance they received in fish was barely able to sustain his family, let alone allow him to sell his surplus at market.
Lake Ponchen would freeze up entirely for several months, and although ice fishing was possible, the minuscule amount they received, even during profitable seasons, could not sustain them unless they had a surplus from the spring and summer months.
They had no such surplus. Henren was barely able to sustain his family, especially with another one on the way. There would be seven mouths to feed. The facts were irrefutable. They would starve during the winter unless they had some way to bring in some funds. There was a way, but only a few months ago it seemed unconscionable. Now, falling on desperate times and in danger of his whole family starving, it seemed the only chance he had.
His neighbor, Caius, was forced to do the same only a few weeks before. His oldest son, Olmenedes was a bit on the slight side, but he was fast and smart. He received twenty-five gold pence from the Orachai, Cleotus.
At nine years old, Perronius was still two years younger than his older brother, Sylvanus; and yet, he stood several inches taller and despite a bit of malnourishment for several months, is well-built. He would fill out nicely as an adult if properly fed. Henren could not afford to lose them both. They were both at an age when they could help their father with work, wherever that work happened to take him. It seemed that he would have to travel far for work, under present conditions. Besides, his wife, Triana, would not hear of it. As it were, she could not bear the thought of losing them both. One would be difficult enough.
And so Henren had resigned himself to his dire situation. He explained the situation to both of his kin, and they reluctantly agreed. Sylvanus would not meet his gaze, and it tore at his heartstrings mightily. Luckily, Perronius was blind and could not meet his gaze. Still, he was standoffish, unusually introverted and quiet, contemplating the deplorable conditions he would soon be subjected to, was he chosen. Sylvanus did the same.
Both boys waited inside the cottage, warming themselves by the fire. For one of them, it would be the last time. For one of them, they might never again be able to feel the warmth of any fire. They had both heard the horror stories. Most children did not last two years in the mines. Though Cathrall lacked the security measures of the mines at Stalwarth, it was nevertheless inescapable, and for boys who had not seen their twelfth birthday, it was a fortress.
“What will you do if you are chosen, Perronius?” asks Sylvanus.
Even without sight, Perronius could feel his brother’s gaze upon him. “I will do what I must. And what of you, muter?”
“Try my best not to get the flog, batlad. At least one of us will not starve this winter. Slaves must be fed to work. You ken?”
Perronius tries to smile, but it is half-hearted. “Ai.”
Perronius looks up, ears registering the concussive sound of the Mckennas hooves clomping into the hardpan. His other senses are almost preternaturally acute, and he picks up the sound long before any other of the family did. It is the Orks.
Thirty seconds later, his family hears the massive beas
ts. Henren gets up from his rocking chair, which, after decades of use, was succumbing to dry rot and splintered. It was a small miracle it hadn’t broken yet. Perronius and Sylvanus’ two sisters, Padme and Luelyn, hug them each fiercely, unsure of which one would be taken away. Padme held her grief in check, allowing a few stray tears to run down her cheeks before she bravely wipes them away. Luelyn however, blusters inconsolably and is finally ripped away by her father.
“Now, lass. That’s enough of that. Tis not going to make it any better. Say your g’byes and be off with you. Can’t help what is goin’ to happen anymore than the comin’ tide.”
As Henren exits his rickety cottage with his two sons, Sylvanus’ knees begin to knock together and clatter.
Cleotus arrives with two accolades accompanying him. One of them carts the metal cage towed behind his McKenna. Sylvanus’ heart trip-hammers at the sight of it and a lump forms in his throat. He begins to hyperventilate. Sensing his panic, Perronius grabs Sylvanus’ hand fiercely and whispers in his ear. “Calm down brother. I have this.” Sylvanus looks at his brother dubiously for a split second, but something in his gesture assuages his heart, and he begins to relax.
The three Orachai dismount their Mckennas with surprising gracefulness, despite their massive proportions. Henren walks out to meet them cautiously. “Good day to you, Commander Cleotus.”
“And to you, sir. What have you for me today?”
“These are two lads. One of ‘em’s for sale. You can choose which better suits your needs.”
“Bring them hither to me as I can get a closer looksee,” orders Cleotus.
Henren nods and gently pushes the boys forward. They both walk out to Cleotus. Sylvanus cringes at the sight of them, and his knees resume their knocking. He had never encountered anyone so massive in his life. Cleotus stands over nine and a half feet tall with thick, bristly fur, akin to a boar’s fur. His arms are like column posts, and he appears ready to use them, should the need arise. Perronius touches Sylvanus’ shoulder reassuringly, and his fears subside.
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