by S E Turner
'Of course, but please carry on with what you know,' encouraged the Emperor with his fingertips pressed together.
'It seems that the youth had come to Ataxata to make his way in the kingdom as well.'
'Really?' the Emperor looked bewildered. 'We believe that Gye, the youth who killed the real Marquis and then took his identity, answered a notice from this palace to work with the Master Cornelius.'
'Well, yes, he did. He did answer the notice and we gave him employment.' The Emperor nodded his head emphatically. 'He was with us for two years. It was two years wasn't it, Corbulo?'
The General's face was a quandary of facial expressions.
'Corbulo,' began the Emperor again. 'Do you remember how long the Marquis, I mean Gye, was with us?'
Corbulo shrugged. 'Yes... two years.' And returned to his tight facial expressions.
'So where is he now?' asked Dalton seeking clarification.
'Goodness knows,' began the Emperor.
'He's the other side of the world,' answered the General quietly, his eyes focused on a thread of jasmine.
The two men looked at him.
'I put him and Master Cornelius on a boat to the other side of the world,' the General's voice spoke out directly, but his eyes were focused elsewhere .
'What for?' came the astonished reply.
'Because we had a disagreement. We fell out. I felt the Emperor's life was being compromised after a long series of arguments. So, they have both been exiled.'
'Exiled?' The officials raised their voices together amid the Emperor's raised eyebrows.
'Do you have documents that prove that?' asked Dalton.
The General's face tightened with displeasure.
'I am sorry to ask, but I hope you understand why we need proof.'
'Of course, we do,' interjected the Emperor, and he found his face looking directly at Dalton's. 'We don't want to be seen to be harbouring a criminal and covering it up. I mean, anyone could say anything just to protect someone.'
'Precisely,' said Dalton, somewhat relieved at the tone of agreement, as the air had suddenly turned quite sour.
'I will send you the paperwork this very day,' confirmed the General. 'One of my captains will deliver it to you personally.'
'Thank you, that would be very good of you.' Benfry wrote the details down in his notebook.
'I am sorry he is not here, but I can assure you, I put them on the ship myself,' continued the General, finding his stern voice of authority once again. 'I doubt if they are still alive anyway. The stories I have heard about the other side of the world are quite horrific.'
'Yes, of course,' agreed Benfry.' And no doubt a court would have put him on that same boat to befit his crime.'
'We know it was in self defence,' intercepted Dalton. 'Nevertheless, a death was inflicted, and he has been punished now, so we should be thanking you.'
'Just one more thing,' added Benfry. 'Did you by perchance see the young man with a pouch of diamonds at all? Some witnesses have said the two men were playing for diamonds.'
'No,' said the General. 'We paid him with sovereigns and shillings of the realm. We never saw any diamonds.' He puckered his chin as he nodded with the Emperor.
'All right, not to worry,' said Dalton. 'The diamonds are probably long gone by now, just like the young man.'
The General creased a thin smile from his puckered chin in response, and the two men stood up to take their leave.
'Thank you for wrapping this mystery up for us,' said Benfry. 'We can close the file now.'
'Glad we have been able to help,' said the Emperor. 'I really had no idea that we were harbouring a criminal.'
'Well, things have a habit of catching up with felons,' said Dalton, tucking away his notepad and pencil. 'In my experience, perpetrators can't hide forever.' He cocked a smile and patted the contents of his pocket.
The two men bowed again and strode the length of the mosaic conservatory, their boots clattering on the marble floor as their green cloaks sashayed against the swords at their sides.
Behind them they left two deadly assassins planning their most monstrous atrocity to date—the capture of innocent clan boys to fight to the death in a public display of betrayal.
Chapter Fourteen
It began with Cornelius not returning home for just one or two nights, then it became three and four; then he rarely came back at all. Instead, he caught himself a fish or a crab or a lobster which he cooked to perfection over a low simmering fire. Or he stole out under darkness and found a solitary loaf within arms-reach of an open window. If he was really lucky, there would be a freshly cooked pie right next to it.
This labyrinth of darkness soon became home. Something had awakened him and released him from the shackles of life. Now, his friends became the shadows and his allies were the wraiths. And soon, the serenity and peace that he found amongst the protective cavernous stone meant he was about to make a monumental decision.
'I think I'm going to move into the cave permanently,' he said after living with Beauchamp for four years. 'I prefer it in there. I like the quietness and being at one with nature. '
'Being at one with nature, eh. That's a very profound statement, Master Cornelius. Are you sure you are not just tiring of my company?'
Cornelius laughed out loud. 'Ha ha! Not at all, dear friend. It's just that I am twenty-two years old now and I feel that I can take care of myself, so I want to move out.'
'Is it a lady friend, then. Have you sought to court someone?'
'Beauchamp, that is even more preposterous than saying I have tired of you. How on earth could I take a lady to live in a cave with me? Think about it, that is just not going to happen.'
'Well, if you are not courting a lady friend, perhaps I could come with you, then. There is plenty of room in the cave.'
'Well that kind of defeats the object, doesn't it? We would be living together again, and I want my own space.'
'Your own space? To do what may I ask?'
'To sing, to dance, to practise my craft in the dark, to walk outside in the rain under a moonlit night, and to sit and watch the sun rise first thing in the morning. To weather the storms and embrace the sun. To dual with the wind on the wing of a gale. All those things. That cave has changed me, Beauchamp. It has made me strong with a sense of freedom. I am a different person now and I seek my independence.'
'Master Cornelius, I understand what you are saying, I really do. But I am worried that being on your own out there might affect you. Remember what I said about power and changing people? I am just concerned, that's all.'
'Beauchamp, I am not going to ban you from seeing me ever again. Of course, we will see each other; but just not as much as we do now.'
'Well, if that's what you want to do, then who am I to get in your way. Shall I draw up a timetable of when I can see you?'
'Now you are just being ridiculous and taking it way too personally.' Cornelius was getting exasperated now. He felt like he was letting a loved one down or breaking up with a partner.
'Well, we have been inseparable for six years. It's going to take a bit of getting used to that's all.' Beauchamp sighed and pondered again.
But in all honesty, Beauchamp did feel like a let-down loved one. He did feel like he was breaking up with a partner. He had been at Master Cornelius's side for six years now, and that was a long time. He had turned the boy into a man. He had made him strong and able to defend himself, even against a great master such as himself. Cornelius had fought the dragons and the witches in the cave, so he didn't fear those anymore. And now, the master felt redundant.
Beauchamp harrumphed. 'I'm not sure Cornelius, I don't feel right about this. There are so many undesirables out there, and I still feel responsible for you.'
'Look, I will try it for a month. If I don't like it or I am getting beaten up,' he raised a solitary eyebrow at the idea. 'Then I will come back here to your hovel, or you can come and live with me in my cave. '
Beauchamp p
ondered, and Cornelius could see the cogs going round in his head as he contemplated the notion.
'It doesn't seem right that you should live in a cave, though.'
'Come on, how old were you when you left home?'
'Sixteen, but that was completely different.'
'How was it completely different?'
'Because I didn't really want to leave. I was forced to go.'
'You've never told me that.'
'Well, I'm telling you now. It was completely different, and I was completely on my own.'
'But I'm not completely on my own, am I? I still have you a stone's throw away from me.'
Beauchamp reluctantly let him go to his cave, and he stayed in the hovel. But Master Cornelius did change—he became a vagrant. After six months, he was barely speaking to anyone. He even lost his appetite for bartering with the market sellers. He had lost all his charm and humour with the ladies. After a year, he only came into the town to drink at the inn; the ale could sometimes make him magnanimous in spirit, but more often than not he was particularly rude and unpleasant to everyone. After two years, he barely saw his good friend Beauchamp, and when he did, he was a fragment of his former self.
Beauchamp remembered that night in June very well. There had been a festival out on the quay—it was always held in June. This year it was on the tenth day of the sixth month. Stall holders sold their wares, and seafarers made a coin or two from exotic gifts they had brought in on a ship. There was singing and dancing, magicians and acrobats. It was a colourful and vibrant affair, and the inns did a roaring trade. Cornelius used to love these occasions. But this was the second year he hadn't been. His second year in the cave.
'I don't know what I am going to do, Shorty,' Beauchamp said over a tankard of beer when everyone had gone home. He had been waiting for Cornelius, but he hadn't come in. 'He's been in that cave for two years now and he barely sees me.'
'I sympathise with you, Beauchamp. I really do.' Shorty spat on the glass and held it up to the light. He looked pleased with the final result and put it in a row with the others.
'I have tried my best to keep in contact, but he doesn't want to know me. And have you seen what he looks like now? He used to be so handsome and particular; now he just doesn't care.'
Shorty didn't have to respond to that one. He carried on with what he was doing, raised his eyebrows and settled his face into one of his three chins.
'So, you have seen him then and you know exactly what I am talking about.'
'He doesn't bother me, Beauchamp. I mean, goodness, we get all sorts in here.' Shorty held another spat-on glass up to the light, put it down, and leaned in to his tenant. 'But it's my staff, it's my girls. He can't go round talking to them like he does, do you know what I mean, Beauchamp?'
'I know, Shorty, I know exactly what you mean.' He sighed heavily. 'What I need is a miracle.'
He supped up, put what he owed on the counter and went back to his hovel alone.
Chapter Fifteen
Back in his room Beauchamp lit a candle and took it to a desk. He pulled out a sealed goblet and spilled the contents—fifty diamonds shone like dragons eyes in the pit of the night.
'These will get us back, Master Cornelius. These are our tickets back home.'
'Where did you get those?'
'Never you mind where they came from; all you need to know is that they will get us on the next boat out of here.'
'When though, Gye, when can we go?'
'I will go to the quay tomorrow morning first light. I will speak to the jetty master and find out when the next ship sails to Ataxata.'
'I can hardly wait. I fear I have been here far too long.'
Beauchamp put his hands on his friend's shoulders and looked him in the eye. 'We have both been here too long, my friend. Tomorrow I will go into the town and find a bathing house for you to wash and scrub up. Hopefully a barber can give you a wet shave. We can't have a newly appointed Emperor arriving in Ataxata looking like a street beggar. I will buy some new clothes for you—the ones you have on are practically falling off your back.'
Cornelius hugged his friend. 'What would I do without you? I know you have worried about me these past few years.'
'Few years!' Beauchamp corrected. 'I have worried about you ever since you decided to move into that cave three years ago.'
'Is it really three years?'
'Yes, it is. Three awful, worrying, lonely, three years. But all that is behind us now. You will stay here tonight, and I will sort everything out in the morning. Now get yourself to bed and we shall resume our plans tomorrow.'
Beauchamp couldn't believe the change in his charge. He had miraculously morphed overnight. His prayers had been answered on that day in June last year. The Emperor had been killed, and that one momentous event had given Cornelius his life back and his safe passage home. Thank the gods, thank who ever had served this justice, for whoever had killed the Emperor and the General would have his sincerest blessings. He owed them his life, not just Cornelius' life. This was indeed a miracle. His master was a broken man who had fallen into a severe state of depression, and this wonderful news had brought him out of it. He didn't have to beg him to stay, he didn't have to plead and point everything out to him. Master Cornelius was back.
In the morning Gye de Beauchamp descended on the sleeping man. 'Master Cornelius, I have secured a place on a ship that leaves at noon in seven days time. I have also got you into one the bath houses for this morning. You will dine there and be fitted out with new robes.'
Cornelius sat up yawning. 'What! You have done all that this morning?'
'Diamonds talk and get things done.' He winked. 'And we have to get you back on track.' A raised eyebrow and thin smile from Beauchamp told Cornelius just how selfish he had been.
'I am sorry, Gye, I really am. I am so sorry for everything. You have always been so good to me.'
'I care for you, Master Cornelius, and I am just relieved that this notice has brought you back to life.'
'I can hardly believe it, Gye. I can hardly believe that we are going home. I can hardly believe we are leaving this dreadful place.' Cornelius looked around, moved his frayed blanket aside, and picked at the straw mattress he had just spent the night on.
'I know, at last we can look forward to a wonderful new life. Now get yourself down to the bath house and come back looking like a new man.'
Cornelius swung his legs out of the bed and threw on his rags. 'On my way, my lord. '
'Take your time, young man, I have paid good money for this.'
'Oh, the joy of it. I fear my skin might wrinkle and peel off in the bubbles, it has been that long since I bathed. Truly, I am so looking forward to going home.'
Cornelius ran to the bath house with ludicrous alacrity and was particularly civil to the bathing maids. 'Now, please tell me there is a hot bath waiting for me and that I can have something decent to eat. And please don't offer me anything cold bloodied or spineless. I don't think I can ever look at another aquatic in my life.'
The maids giggled and attended to him with fastidious detail.
'And be careful with that blade,' he joked. 'There is a very handsome face under all this dirt and facial hair.'
The bath was hot and soapy, the maids had scented it with aromatic oils and herbs, and it felt so good to feel the warm liquid dissolve the dirt and grime on his weathered skin. The maid picked up his clothes and held them at arm’s length.
'You need to burn those, please, my beautiful lady. They have served me well but are not needed anymore. I am going home.' He sank into the steaming tub of water with a contented sigh, closed his eyes, and slid his entire head beneath the surface.
The last few days before the ship was launched, the Marquis and Cornelius spent every possible moment shaking hands and saying their farewells to the community that had been their home for seven years. Cornelius apologised for his unreasonable behaviour during the past three while Beauchamp was also apologising for his master's be
haviour. That last night, the two men strolled along the sloping cobblestoned street for the final time and walked towards the jetty that extended like long breaded fingers into the sea. Cornelius looked behind him and towards the cave. 'Please don't tell me that you want to spend our last night in the cave, Cornelius.' Beauchamp looked aghast.
Cornelius laughed and shrugged his shoulders. 'No, dear friend, I am a changed man.' He looked down at his smart apparel and pinched the collars of his jacket. 'Do you really think I want to rough up these fine clothes?'
'I am relieved,' said Beauchamp. 'You had me worried for a moment.'
'Come, my friend. Let us go and have that farewell drink with Shorty.'
Chapter Sixteen
As usual, a huge crowd congregated to bid their farewells on the quay. It was always full of excitement. Broad shouldered men filed aboard carrying crates of cured meats, dried fruit, bottles of wine, kegs of beer, caged birds, grain and fresh water. The voyage would take them nearly three months to complete, and most of these supplies were for the duration. The rest were bound for the market in Ataxata.
Cornelius and Beauchamp made their way up the steep plank to the galley and looked down upon the cheering crowd from the high deck of their homeward bound ship. They looked like lords in their silk and satin robes with jewelled belts and flowing sleeves. The new clothes had cost a fair penny, along with the jewelled rings that they displayed. Even their scabbards were heavily enamelled and inlaid with burnished copper, shining silver, and soft red gold. Cornelius had his blond hair cut into a better shape, and his tanned skin set off those deep blue eyes. And now, without the crudity of facial hair, a strong and chiselled face emerged, and his manner was deemed entirely charming and quietly powerful.
'I don't think we will be needing these this time,' Beauchamp patted his sword. 'But it doesn't hurt to have a weapon or two on show.' He winked at Cornelius and showed him the hilt of his dirk concealed inside his sleeve.