The streets were alive with people vending their goods.
The mid-morning was always the busiest time of the day in Pomperaque,
and should it have been anything else? Afterall, this city had been
the capital of Phoride for some five hundred years. The routine had
always been the same. At sunrise the people brought their goods out
into the major streets, where they bought and sold amongst one
another. When noon-time came around they all gathered their things
together and returned to their homes and rarely, if ever, emerged
again until the evening when they made their way to the taverns and
theatres.
But even in the evening the city wasn't as alive as it was during
mid-morning. This was a time when people spoke to one another and
laughed at little humours that they created and therefore strengthened
the social bonds between themselves. Men drank and talked at the
cafes while their women stayed by the stands and kiosks, exchanging
goods and talking also.
Sometimes someone came along and bought something with gold bits, which
was surprising and not very common, since the usual manner that the
people carried on their business was in barter and in copper. However,
the attainment of gold was short-lived.
Every day at noon, one of the ArchBishop's tax clerics went amongst
those who received gold and exchanged it for copper bits. Usually, the
exchange wasn't just or fair. The town's people were most often given
two bits of copper for every one bit of gold. Rarely they received
five bits to one of gold: that was a great achievement in everyone's
eyes if someone were capable of bringing it about. This was dangerous,
however. If someone haggled for anything over five bits of copper to
one of gold, they were threatened with Divine Punishment -- for their
sin of greed -- unless they payed a fine, which always equalled the
exact number of gold bits that the merchant possessed. Thus was the
usual mode of business and economics for Pomperaque, and the rest of
Phoride. All this was the common practice of the surrounding provinces,
and kingdoms; which the ArchBishop directly influenced.
It was one such morning that Dearborne went out into the streets with
Boy, to do her marketing. It was the third day of the week and not the
second day, which she usually took to do her marketing, and everyone
was happy and pleased to see her because they all thought that
something bad had happened to her. The merchants weren't prepared for
her absence on the second day and all of them questioned her for a
reason why she missed her usual day. She just smiled and told them
that she wanted to be with her husband, and they sent their
heat-warming greeting to him.
For the thirteen years that she had been married to Lord Brook, she
always marketed on the second and fifth days of the week. The sudden
change in her market day created a great stir in the hearts of the
people. Now that they could see that she was well, they rejoiced and
treated her with sweets and fruits, and gave her things to take to
their Lord and sovereign, Brook Scullion Blue.
Like every day, the streets were filled with people. Their goods were
spread about the ground on blankets, or on top of carts, or set on and
around the kiosks in the city square.
Dearborne and Boy made their way down the street towards the square,
which was the liveliest part of town during any time of the day. It
was here where the best produce and meats were to be found during the
morning market hours. It was here that the highest quality foodstuffs
were brought in from every part of Phoride and elsewhere.
Also, in the city square, jewellery and fine garments were sold and
there were amusements for the people. There were games and
story-tellers, and machines were there to thrill the children. All
these amusements carried-on throughout the entire day and night.
Boy carried a large basket and was slightly ahead of Dearborne. They
both walked slowly and looked around the different stands, at the
various things of interest.
Dearborne smiled her greetings at some council men that sat at tables
outside the café. Business carried on in its usual manner, the sounds
of livelihood resounded throughout the streets and into the other
regions of the city, out towards the Hill People, who were the free
farmers of Phoride. There was some kind of commotion down the street
but it didn't appear to be any different than usual to Dearborne, and
she paid little attention to anything but her own thoughts, anyway.
She had never known about the holocaust that had occurred over a
millennia ago. She had known that something cataclysmic happened but
no one could ever find out the whole story because it was a taboo
topic, according to the written Laws of Canon; which denied any kind of
knowledge about the past.
She was confused by the Canon's Law, which said the past was a
disillusionment. Afterall, there were history books and subjects at
the Blaisaman, right here in Pomperaque. The Blaisaman had, at one
time, been one of the largest learning institutions of its kind,
anywhere on the Northern Continent. This was the very place that
Dearborne and many other "Prominents" completed their studies. She
remembered the extensive teachings of history and how it had
influenced and changed life in Phoride. Only now, four years after
she had received her Darmaclust, she realised that even in the highest
levels of study, no one knew, or at least there was no one who would
disclose their knowledge, about the history prior to a thousand years
ago.
She never questioned why this was so at the time and apparently, no one
else questioned it either. She hadn't realised that there was no
written or taught history, concerning that period before the officially
declared beginning of the world. The only stories that were told to
the scholars, about the before-time, was that there was a fiery chaos
in the cosmos, before the Almighty created the world and its first
earthly family. But anything that was taught to the student-scholars,
even concerning this, was very limited. Still, there were no
questions.
Dearborne couldn't believe that anyone, not even she, thought to pursue
the topic any further than that which was told to them.
She came out of her thoughts for a moment when she noticed that Boy had
wandered-off somewhere and without her permission.
She reconnoitred the square; the different stalls and the kiosks then
saw him standing with some pretty town's-girl, of the same age. Both
watched some dark-skinned woman, with golden hair and sapphire-like
eyes, levitate herself and many other weird things, including some of
the audience, on the fringes of the stage.
About to call on him, she heard some quick steps behind her and a
familiar voice that calling her name.
"Lady Dearborne! Good morning, my sweet friend." said the voice.
She turned quickly to the caller and smiled as he reached her, and
kissed her hand.
"Miel, my dear friend, how are you?" she asked him in a surprised and
happy manner.
"I am fine. My wife is well, too! She just birthed our twelfth child
a son!" he beamed with pride.
"My, my! You do keep yourself active!"
"Yes! That is why I could not answer the invitation to your
anniversary celebration."
"You are coming, are you not?"
"Oh, yes! Of course, I'm coming. I wouldn't miss it for anything."
he assured her.
"And Aria?
"I don't know yet. She doesn't recover from child baring as quickly as
she had at one time. Nevertheless, I will be there."
"Well, thankyou ... Brook and I shall watch for you!"
"Goodbyes till then!" he exalted, then after he kissed her hand again,
he walked off in the direction of the café, and shouted greetings to
some men sitting at the nearest table.
Dearborne turned and called to Boy. He glanced over his shoulder to
see her waving him in with her hand. He motioned to the girl to stay
where she was and ran over to Dearborne.
They strolled over to Empal; the biggest seller of fruits and
vegetables, herbs and spices, known on the face of the continent, and
perhaps in the whole world.
He greeted her and Boy with the usual good-hearted smile, and warm
hello. Then as always, in his brawny Virunese accent he asked about
Brook, his favourite Lord, while he slowly filled Dearborne's basket
with the best of his produce. In turn, Dearborne asked about his
family -- his daughter in particular, and unobserved slipped several
gold bits into his hand when they shook.
Dearborne wasn't the only one of the nobility to do this. Many others
had done it, as well. Not because of pity or any such sympathies but
rather s a show of respect for his strength and his odd position in
their society.
Everyone in Phoride, except for the ArchBishop and his train of
followers, admired his position against the ArchBishop when he was
requested for Gaena, his daughter, to bare the child of "The
Almighty". He refused to allow his daughter's virginity to be taken
by anyone other than a mountain tribesman and so immediately arranged
a wedding to take place between her and her betrothed love, Tucker.
Tucker was a Krolalin Mountain goat-herder.
Although everyone overpaid Empal for his services, he was forced into
near poverty when he dared to live in Pomperaque or anywhere else in
Phoride, for any lengthy period of time. This was caused by his
obstinacy towards the ArchBishop. In the beginning, after a few months
of hardship he returned to Exendria, the capital of Virune. He rebuilt
his fortune, and later returned to Pomperaque. Since then, he had kept
to a cycle of return to Exendria. Like a migratory bird, he headed
North every summer then returned to Lower Phoride in the winter.
Even though extensive and constant travel was difficult on most people,
it didn't seem to affect Empal in a very harsh way. In fact, he soon
came to enjoy his cycled migration because he made a greater fortune
selling his produce during his travel than he did selling in either
Pomperaque or Exendria, combined. Now, in his seventh cycle, he had
accumulated more wealth than what the ArchBishop could dream of taking
away from him; in fines, taxes, licenses or tariffs. Brook had dared
to veto the ArchBishop's plan for all merchants, farmers and artisans
to pay a monthly tribute to the church, to encourage the building of
roads, buildings and the like.
Brook knew that no buildings would ever come out of the plan and that
it was just another one of the ArchBishop's ploys to keep the people of
Phoride poor and ignorant. His veto helped all the working class
people in the land and also greatly boosted the economic strength of
Phoride. He made it the wealthiest and most powerful land on the
Northern Continent. And all of this was begun by the will of a simple
old man, who chanced his standing up to the ArchBishop's tyrannical
order of life.
Dearborne and Empal said their farewells and he asked her if she will
be back on the fifth day, as usual, but she shrugged unknowingly and
smiled a good-bye at him.
Boy carried the basket for a while until Dearborne saw that he
occasionally looked back to where the town's-girl stood, waiting for
him to return to her. Being a kindly woman, she took the basket from
him and let him go to the girl, telling Boy that she would not need him
for a while.
She was pleased to see Boy and the innocense of childhood that he, and
all those like him, possessed. Their's was the future. This, she
understood through her husband's guidance. She knew that it was the
responsibility of the Elders to prepare a secure and stable life for
their children. It was this idea that caused Brook to become so
sensitive to the uselessness of killing the transgressors of the Canon
Laws: those laws, more than half of which, were written only to
benefit the Great Church of The Almighty.
She was saddened when she realised that Boy, and all those of his age,
might not have any kind of future at all.
She continued to look at the boy. Her mind remained deep in thought
about him and his vague tomorrow. She almost cried.
"He's a hardy boy, Lady Scullion-Blue!" A sudden, slow and taring
voice, that sent a cold flush down her back and that raised the small
hairs on the nape of her neck, came from behind. She quickly turned,
and when she saw that it was the Cardinal Allen, she curtsied to him
and kissed his hand.
"Is your household faring well, my child? asked the Cardinal.
"Yes, Cardinal Allen. We are happy for our blessings." she moved away
from him.
"I am happy for you ... I am surprised to see you in the market today.
It's not your usual day?" his voice sounded scheming and distrustful as
he eyed her. Dearborne felt uneasy, as if she were being prodded or
groped by someone. She felt as if swarms of army ants were crawling
over her entire body, and were devouring her alive. She didn't answer
right away. She quietly looked to see if Boy was still by the stage
but he had moved with the girl to another one, where some magician made
small animals and shapes transmute in their appearance.
Dearborn turned back to the Cardinal and answered.
"No, it's not my usual day for marketing. I stayed home with Brook,
yesterday!" she said.
"No doubt talking about raising a family -- I wager?"
"Yes! That is so! We feel that we are now prepared for children."
"True, true! -- Just a few days ago I was speaking with some of the
Brothers, at Halls, about you and Lord Brook. We prayed that you may
soon be blessed with many sons. All of us look forward to your sons'
future attendance at out vicarage." Dearborne became somewhat
disturbed and briefly lost her pleasant smile. She answered him in a
subdued, but still obviously denying tone of voice.
"Yes! Definitely that!" she said then became silent, once again.
Cardinal Allen slowly looked over Dearborne's whole body and sighed.
He imagined the pleasures that he could experience if he were to bed
with her; to meet her full mouth with his and to touch the full
softness of her bosom.
Dearborne moved her long hair allowing it to fall upon her breasts,
covering herself from the Cardinal's intensive gaze.
After a few moments of silence, Cardinal Allen glared into her eyes,
and in a dishonestly gentle voice, asked her if she cared for
refreshment. She couldn't but answer him, and soon she tried to smile
as she conceded.
"Shall we sit, then?" asked the Cardinal and escorted her to a vacant
table at the café, where several of the men sat about, eyeing them and
mumbling with questioning discontent and accusation. Soon, however,
they returned to their talking and did not pay attention to the Lady,
and the Cardinal, sitting nearby. They resumed their previously gaiety
and laughter, and heavy-handed talk.
A large, blond tavern maid soon came to the table. She toted a tray of
dirty tankards. With a big smile, she winked at Cardinal Allen then
looked at Dearborne. She chuckled a little when he smiled back at her.
"How you, Cardin' -- What do?" she asked. Her eyes jutted back and
forth between him and Dearborne.
"A small rose wine, please." she finally said.
The tavern maid grinned, then once again winked at Cardinal Allen. With
a quick and brisk "it's good!", she left them.
The strange commotion that boomed on the street most of the morning,
had grown and spread right down to the café where they sat. Cardinal
Allen wasn't too disturbed by the loud shouting of some young man and
the discontented, riotous mob that shouted back at him. He was
preoccupied with his interest in Dearborne. They said very little at
the table or at least, nothing that was of any great significance.
Dearborne watched the crowd as they started to throw stones and ripe
fruit at the you man, and Allen watched Dearborne's breasts rise and
fall with her every breath.
Once more, he continued his deceit and his lecherous manner.
"Ah, yes! Lord Brook is a very lucky man, to have wed such a woman as
you!"
Dearborne became even more upset and she began to fidget. She looked
around to see if anyone was listening; most were interested in the
young man that was creating the disturbance, and Miel had long since
left.
"If I had not become a man of the Almighty, I could have wed such a
precious fawn. I, too, could have cleaved to a woman whose blood boils
for only the one man that she loves."
Dearborne was surprised by what the Cardinal had said to her.
Uncomfortable, she tried to speak while she looked around to make
certain that no one else heard him.
"Cardinal Allen -- I pray, explain the meaning of that remark, or I
will have to tell Brook!"
"I beg your forgiveness, if I have offended, my Lady. It is known
throughout these lands, that women who drink of the rose, are warm and
passionate to those men that they love."
He looked at her and smiled, his one gold tooth reflecting the sunlight.
No one else, in the café, heard their exchange. Their attentions were
rivetted on the disturbance that rumbled a little ways down the street.
The tavern maid brought the drinks, served them, and winked at Cardinal
Allen before she left. "Enjoy, Cardin'!" she said, then went to serve
someone else.
"I'm sorry, Cardinal! I misunderstood the intent behind your words."
Cardinal Allen bowed his head and smiled at her a forgiving little
smile. In his norm, he turned his own decadence around and once more
had come clean.
"The mistake was unintentional, my child. Let us pray that this does
not happen again." he clasped his hands and lowered his head.
Dearborne bowed her head, as well, and sighed.
The Cardinal, however, did not pray. He looked up at her and only
thought about how wonderful she was, and the joys and the pleasures
that Lord Scullion must feel when he takes her. He thought about the
intense heat that he felt, just sitting near her; watching her smooth
glow and the inviting look in her eyes, as if saying "I will take you,
my Lord Cardinal." But soon his thoughts brought him back to his
place, as it was, at Halls. There was the devotion that he had to
show, and the tributes that he had to give, to the other brothers
there, and also the obligation that he had to The Almighty, Himself.
He sighed and said "amen" and Dearborne echoed him.
"I must leave you, now, Cardinal." she continued with a silent
hesitation. "Thank-you for the refreshment, and of course the
compliment." She saw him, still over by the magician and the girl.
She called to him and before he came he kissed the girl and waved to
her even though she stood right beside her. She giggled and Boy ran to
Dearborne when she called to him again.
"Here I come, Lady!" he shouted as he ran to her. Along the way he
stumbled and dirtied himself, but he sprang up quickly and continued.
Cardinal Allen took her hand. She spun around in surprise and faced
him. She glared at him as his voice, heavy and wet, filtered into her
mind.
"Before you go, my Lady, please do not forget to request a visit with
Lord Scullion. The ArchBishop does very much wish to see him." She
pulled her hand out of his, in a slow and obviously repulsed manner.
She than walked away. Boy ran after her and she handed him the basket
of fruit and vegetables.
As they headed in the direction that they had come from, the commotion
that was down the street was now before them. They tried to make their
way to the main boulevard but when they made it, Dearborne stopped to
see what the problem was.
People pushed and shoved one another and screamed obscenities at a man,
about Dearborne's age, who jumped up on the magician's stage, knocking
the magician to the ground. Throughout the clamour and confusion, the
man yelled at the people, but no one listened. He finally had to hit a
few individuals, sending them careening to the ground, in order that he
could stay on the stage.
"Listen!" he yelled. "Listen -- Hear Me!" Now, on stage, the noise of
the crowd heightened. Every single person screamed at him. Most
screamed insults and profanity while others screamed at him calling him
a blasphemer and a heretic. Some men tried to pull him off the stage
but he kicked and swung his fists, and made a mark on their faces.
The man lifted a tattered book into the air to show the people, and
yelled in desperation at the people to listen to what he had to say.
"Listen, people of Phoride! Hear the truths that have been! Listen so
that you too may know!" he screamed.
The anger of the people was coming to a boil and some men shouted as
loud as they could at him.
"What truths? Words that we don't understand?" hollered one, in anger,
back at him.
"Blasphemies and heresies to destroy our faith in The Almighty!"
shouted another.
"We don't listen to lies! -- Remove him!"
"These are not lies. These are truths, of the great things that had
once been and can be, again!" pleaded the man from the stage. The
murmur of the riotous mob grew; people yelled to others to take him
away and kill him, and to close their eyes to his devilish words.
"Hear me, friends! Hear the words of the "old ones" from that age that
had vanished! -- Hear of those who have been in shelter, and who waited
to be born again. All of you are the witnesses to them, to reason and
to understand them, again!" said the man on the stage as he waved his
book in the air, over his head.
Dearborne and Boy moved into the shadows of the adjacent street. She
was curious to hear what the man had to say.
Cardinal Allen still stood by the café table and watched some woman
grab at the leg-bindings of the man's sandal. Allen waited. The woman
screamed.
"This demon tempts us! Call the Almighty's Angels to destroy him!" and
Allen pulled from his habit a small flat, triangular device and passed
his forefinger over its surface. Instantly, bells echoed throughout
the street and the roar of the mob died down as they moved back, away
from the stage.
Two tall male figures, dressed totally in black, with dark helmets and
shiny metals adorning them, entered the square in haste, beside the
café. Cardinal Allen pointed a bony finger at the man on stage and the
two monastic guards stepped up to the stage and drew their weapons on
him.
The man on stage was certain that they would fire upon him. He knew
that he couldn't allow his book to be taken from him, for then no one
would ever see it. He quickly took a glass ball from his hip sack and
threw it down at the guards. A twangy sound echoed though the air and
the man fell from the stage, to the ground. The glass ball that he
had thrown down poured-out a grey green smoke, giving him the chance
to drag himself into one of the nearby alleys.
The monastic guards stopped in their tracks. Their guns were still
pointed up towards the stage but they did not fire any more.
The mob, aimless and panicked, ran into one another and screamed in
horror that they were blind. Others fell to the ground and crawled
off, crying and praying to the Almighty to deliver them from the evil
that had befallen them.
Cardinal Allen ran off in the direction of Halls, still rubbing his
forefinger over the surface of the device. The roar of the mob
subsided, giving way to the eerie sounds of the bells that echoed
through every part of Pomperaque. As Allen approached Halls, he fell
over his habit, dragging behind him, and in final desperation, made it
through the gateway and collapsed by the fountain in the courtyard.
Amidst the confusion in the city square was the man's body. It dragged
itself into a doorway, his hand cupped over the open fist-sized wound
in his side. The intolerable pain made him sway out of the doorway and
onto the cobble-stone street. He dropped his book as he tried to stand
up, and vomited into the gutter before he passed out.
Some figures quickly rushed towards him. One of them grabbed the book
and concealed it with their clothes, as they took him under the arms
and quickly spirited him away.
Overlooking pomperaque stood Mount Benitar the rock of wisdom. There
sat a man of wisdom, who watched everything that occurred in that great
city.
The man of the mountain was not pleased with what he witnessed taking
place over the centuries. Alone, he contemplated his descent into the
valley.