The days passed.
The streets of Pomperaque were silent for most part and only now the
people were slowly recovering from the ordeal that was brought on them
by the rain.
Lloyd, too, was recovering for several days, ever since Dearborne and
Boy dragged him home. Now he strolled from room to room and through
the hallways, stretching his stiffened legs and getting to know his new
surroundings.
He wore an ivory-coloured frock and a black puma-fur vest, over which a
long, dark-blue cape hung down, to keep him warm. The day was oddly
cool and cloudy and some feared that the rains would fall again.
Others, however, knew that this wouldn't happen. The rains hardly ever
fell again after a few days of warmth and clear skies that followed the
first and usually last rain.
Lloyd stopped at the end of the hallway, and looked out the window at
the panoramic view of the city of Pomperaque. Everything was dry,
including the distant farm terraces.
One would never believe that rain fell in the city because the rich
land soaked up the water and dispersed the rain's potency into the
vegetation, which already seemed to be a meter taller than what it was
a few days before.
People were in the streets. They worked in groups of five or ten,
called Keys. They were pulling up unwanted weeds and grasses from the
hard ground and from around the buildings. Although the rain had
blessed the crops and forests, with quick growth, it also cursed the
city-people with the task of removing the unwanted, thick undergrowth
from the streets. That job sometimes took them several days to
complete. They threw the extracted vegetation into carts and hauled
them over to the organic recycling factories, outside the city.
He looked straight ahead and saw the great Halls Cathedral, standing
tall and solitary atop the butte, on the other side of the valley.
That lovely valley had many stone and mud buildings, in rows on the
different levels of ground that at one time served as agricultural
land. Right in between him and Halls was the town square where just a
few days ago, he nearly joined his ancestors. Now, for the first time,
he saw the enormous distance to which Dearborne and Boy had to drag
him; secreting him, to the Blue Mansion. The feat induced a respect in
him, for his frail-looking hostess. That lady that had as much
courage, as she had beauty.
Down the hallway, from where he came, he heard a noise and turned
around to see what it was. One of the chambermaids went into the room,
that was his to recuperate in, to clean it and change the bedding.
Coming from behind her, towards Lloyd, was Boy. His walk had just a
suggestion of purpose as he neared the man that he and Dearborne had
rescued from death.
"Good morning, sir!" said Boy, while still quite far from him.
Lloyd smiled and returned the salutation, allowing Boy to give him the
message that he obviously carried with him.
"My Lord requested me to take you to his private room, sir!"
"Right away?" asked Lloyd.
"Yes, sir. If it pleases you?" continued Boy. "Very well, my lad,
lead the way!" Lloyd accepted and Boy guided him around the hallways
and down some stairs, to Brook's private room. His viewing den.
Lloyd was astonished to see the polished walls covered with rare
paintings and tapestries, and rows of statues dotted each side of the
hall, separated by varying spaces.
Some of the paintings were very old indeed and Lloyd didn't even try to
imagine the dates of their making, but some he did recognize
immediately, as late Twentieth Century, organic-colour pictographs.
He had only seen one other such painting, and that was in the ancient
great vault library, unearthed in Besten. He was impressed by the
wealth of the prehistoric items that Brook chose to display, without
fear of exchanging words with the great feign master of the butte.
Lloyd was greatly confused about Brook's fear of the ArchBishop. If he
really was afraid.
He thought to ask his host about the thoughts that he possessed about
it all.
Soon, Boy stopped walking and motioned with his hand towards two
gigantic doors of oak and iron. He pounded three times on it before he
opened it and allowed Lloyd to enter.
When Lloyd walked into the room, Boy closed the door and left for
Dearborne's parlour. Lloyd hadn't the chance to thank him but he could
see that, to Boy, it didn't make much of a difference.
Brook was sitting in his high-backed chair, in the middle of the room.
His back was to the door and this seemed to be quite odd, to Lloyd,
when he thought that a man who was afraid of someone, would not sit in
such a way, as to lend an advantage to his opponent.
He stood at the door and looked about the room, at the far curtained
wall, the huge cabinet, the statues and several musical instruments in
the far corner.
"Come in and make yourself comfortable." said Brook.
"Thank-you, my Lord!" he answered, and from beside the doors, with his
stronger hand, pulled a tall wooden stool to the Lord's chair.
Brook looked at him with a smile and welcoming face and Lloyd pointed
to the musical instruments and smiled.
"You play music?"
"No!" answered Brook and continued. "No! They were my brother's. He
played, and beautifully. It was like the great God had entered his
hands and his voice filled the walls of this place as if it were made
up of the voices of a hundred seraphims. When he departed, these
stayed as a reminder to us all of Manguino's goodness." Lloyd couldn't
decide the meaning behind those feelings expressed by Brook. His words
impressed with thoughts of sorrow, respect and praise, and yet his tone
was utterly opposite to them, and seemed as if it were being subdued by
him.
There was no mention yet, why Brook called him to his side and he
didn't think that it was to talk about the memory of his brother. Then
he remembered that Brook offered to show him some materials of
knowledge from the Twentieth Century and about the past millennia, when
he recovered.
He looked at the shelves of books adjacent to the cabinet and along the
wall to the left of the entrance. However, all the books on the
shelves were of this age; by poets and literary artists like Maxxwel,
Bothelli, Croii, Lapinz and Argynossti. There were no encyclopedias or
such books from antiquity and Lloyd grew alarmed and wary.
"You were going to show me some things that you have about the ancient
land?" asked Lloyd.
Brook smiled and winked at him.
"My, you are eager, aren't you?"
Lloyd remained quiet and Brook started to show him the promised
antiquities.
"Look around you, Lloyd. The knowledge within these pages will never
again be conceived by man's mind, and they will be forgotten, if
suppression is continued by that almighty megalomaniac."
"But, my Lord, all these writers are from our own time." stated
Brook's guest.
Brooked grinned, touched his shoulder and pointed to one of the books
on the shelf behind him.
"Look inside that book!"
Lloyd looked at the shelf and grabbed for the book. He glanced at
Brook to make certain that he took the correct one and Brook nodded,
still smiling. With his eyes, he motioned for Lloyd to look inside.
Lloyd eyed the title and his face showed frustration, as his voice rose
in annoyance.
"You joke, my Lord! This is poetry. 'Djenaud Smarte" ... it's not
even very good poetry!"
"Look inside." Brook ordered once more. "I never imagined you to get
annoyed so easily ... maybe you are afraid -- or untrusting?"
Brook's words seemed to cut deeply into Lloyd's conscience. For a
brief moment he had forgotten that he was saved from sure death by
those of this household.
He quietly opened the book and thumbed through a few pages. His eyes
finally flamed as he read the actual title page: "ELEMENTS OF
DEMOCRACY".
Lloyd looked up at Brook in silent apology.
"All these books are like this one!" Lloyd stated with certainty, but
lost his countenance when Brook confessed to him.
"No. Unfortunately, there are just a handful scattered throughout the
others here. But I do have one book that surpasses them all. That
one, the one I have hidden, is my prize. However, there are other
things that I want to show you first!" and he rose from his chair and
moved to the cabinets. When he reached them, he turned and showed his
key to Lloyd before he unlocked and opened the doors.
"Yes, my friend ... I have much to show you. And I suppose that this
one would be the best to show to you first." The doors of the cabinet
flew open. Lloyd's eyes fixed themselves into a stare on the rows of
buttons and meters, marked with numbers and letters -- some with
familiar and other with unfamiliar symbols.
In the centre of the unit's structure hung a flat, dark-glassed panel,
and when Brook pushed some buttons, writing began to appear across it.
'ARCHIVAL TAPE #371.4931-T
... entry - October 13, 1982.
-- Planets line up in even axis, on one side of the sun.
-- Earth experiences catastrophic gravity changes,
resulting in quakes and unusual tidal activity.
-- Parts of many continents are submerged following
sudden ocean rise.
_ * for further information, select video record m-oo10-1982."
Brook offered Lloyd to push the buttons in the select numbers on the
rectangular board and then waited for results, but nothing happened.
Brook then turned him around to the wall opposite them, that was draped
with a large dark curtain.
"The curtain will move to reveal pictures that move." explained Brook.
Lloyd watched the wall and the drapes covering it, pull back, into the
corners. On the wall, he saw the large white screen and moving
pictures that he recognized as ancient video tape.
From the cabinet came a man's voice and pictures on the wall, matched
what the voice was describing.
'Shuttles were sent into deep space to record the
phenomenon of the planets, in our solar system,
aligning on the same side of our sun.
The world watched as the planets drew closer in
their conjunction and in their gravitational
resistances, every one of the planets experienced
their own fatalities.'
In the utmost quiet did Brook and Lloyd stand there listening to the
tinny voice.
'Mercury began to rotate in quick revolutions and
Venus experienced a contrary orbit, and fire
storms engulfed its surface. On Earth, ocean
levels rose and fell drastically with every passing
hour, and the land was disrupted by quakes and great
upheavals as the planet changed in its polarity.
Soon thereafter, the surface was pounded by
thousands of small but devastating asteroids.'
The men couldn't believe the sights that were being presented to them,
and they couldn't decide what was more terrifying -- the descriptions
or the actual pictures of the cataclysm.
'Volcanic eruptions broke the surface of Mars.
Jupiter's red spot increased in size until it
covered the planet's entire centre. Saturn
increased in its tilt towards the sun. Uranus
wobbled like a balloon in a breeze and Neptune
captured Pluto and its moon Charon, claiming them
as its own.'
"This is truly remarkable!" said Lloyd, his expression was bewildered
like Boy's usually was. He smiled at Brook, and Brook tipped his head
towards the screen, telling Lloyd with his actions to keep watching.
He did.
The strange voice undulated from the cabinet, as more moving images
were vomited onto the screen. The voice made a commentary on the
Earth's people joining together, to dig themselves out of the solar
cataclysm of 1982. Then the screen went blank and immediately a drone
came from the cabinet, and more writing was printing out onto the
black-glassed panel.
'ARCHIVAL TAPE #371.5039-D
... June 5, 1986
-- As it has been feared for three decades, the final
conflict has happened.
-- Following their defeat from the Chinese, in May,
the Soviets flowed south into the Middle-East, and
laid seige to Jerusalem, after a great battle on
the plains of Megiddo. As it was Biblically
prophesied, Armageddon had come to pass.
-- * for more information, select video record OA-06-1986.'
Brook punched up more video playback and taped images continued. The
pictures showed people in massive exodus, heading for the highest
mountains that the could reach. They tried to find some kind of
shelter from the radiation fallout because, the two great nations:
China and the United States of America, foolishly agreed to the use of
limited nuclear warfare.
Then, on the screen, there were cities falling into piles of rubble,
after they were hit by missiles.
People were in confusion over the horrible death. The excited
commentator explained the state of tension in the world and made the
situation sound hopeless. His message was, that the end had come.
The screen went blank and silence hung over the room, giving a cold and
eerie feeling to both men.
"Every time, it is the same for me!" Brook admitted. "My heart is
torn apart at the pains that I see."
Lloyd's in awe expression had left him. He too felt as Brook did, full
of sorrow and anger.
"If only there was some way to change what had happened." he remarked,
and slowly shifted back to Brook.
"They were supposed to be civilized. They could have prevented that
war but instead they chose to rid their problems by trying total
genocide. They accumulated great knowledge and possessed god-like
powers through their machines. But they used the earth as their toy,
until, like
infants, they broke it."
Lloyd sat down, removed and folded his cape over the back of Brook's
chair. Silence held both men as they collected their thoughts, forcing
into their own hearts a coldness of indifference to what they observed.
Lloyd shattered the annoying silence between them as he stood up and
went to Brook, by his cabinets.
"What do you call this machine, my Lord?"
"I do not know the actual name, but I call it my gadget. My father
gave this one to me and told me of a hollow mountain, where there is
one that is much greater. Unfortunately, the ArchBishop has one,
too."
Lloyd, calmer now, watched the projected images of the destruction and
misery with Brook. He revealed that they also have gadgets like this
one, in Besten. It was yet another artifact unearthed from the vault
library, there.
"The ancient peoples called them computers, I believe. Knowledge could
be given to it and later, one could retrieve it again, if needed. The
Prominants of Besten had only just begun to understand their workings
and uses, when the ArchBishop banned trade with us. So we had to
divert our attentions to becoming self-sufficient."
Lloyd pushed some buttons on the flat key pad and the black-glass panel
displayed some more words. The white screen again showed the rapid
images. The growth of human life and their transportation, throughout
the suppressed history of their people (up to the Twentieth Century).
All this flashed by in a matter of minutes.
Lloyd and Brook resumed their conference while they watched the screen.
"Maybe he heard about the excavation and what was found. Maybe this
frightened him." Brook considered.
"If so, then why did he impose the embargo on us? Surely he'd know
that would only infuriate us; and if we did have something to hurt his
power with, do you suppose that we'd hesitate to use it?"
Brook shrugged unknowingly and smiled as he delivered a quick-witted
answer.
"I didn't say that he was a smart man!" he said, then they both
laughed.
Soon, the note of conversation once again became serious.
"Why hasn't he tried to destroy your computer?" asked Lloyd.
"He knows that I won't use it!"
Lloyd was confused by Brook's reply, and Brook explained to Lloyd his
reason for not using the computer against the ArchBishop.
"My people would not be able to understand this machine. So, if I were
to use it against the ArchBishop, he would surely turn around and call
me an evil sorcerer, out to befuddle and possess the citizens' minds
and souls."
"But the people," Lloyd interrupted, "They know you well and they
look up to you. Certainly they would like to see the Almighty thrown
down from his authority?"
Brook shook his head and paced around.
"I have no guarantees about this and I don't want to engage in a civil
war, even if indeed there are enough to back me. I do know in fact,
that at least, half of Phoride will back me!" he explained, then Lloyd
added.
"I am surprised that he hasn't tried to destroy it. If you were to get
half of Phoride to join with you, I am certain that Besten, Virune, and
even some of the Krolalin and Ohigh, would unite against that tyrant!"
What Lloyd said was true. Many of the territories would, without
question, join with Brook. However, Brook explained to Lloyd that, if
he did allow the other regions to join him, they too could eventually
become a threat to his rule. Lloyd tried to quell Brook's fears. He
promised him that the Bestenese do respect his powers and his
abilities, and that they all would, with all their hearts and souls,
fight to help him keep his rule. "I play weak to buy me time. To
think." Brook confided. "I don't doubt that I could destroy him but
it would be at the expense of too many lives. I united Upper and Lower
Phoride some twenty years ago. Then, there were many that died. Now,
I can't see them divided, and I will not be the instrument to cause it."
"I understand!" is all that Lloyd said, breathing out a wet sigh.
Brook weighed all his reasons for not rising up. He expressed that, if
he did indeed decide to go against that pig at Halls, that evil man
would have received prior knowledge of it.
"I found ears in the walls and I removed them all. Since then, I have
stayed inside and made certain that there were no more intrusions or
listenings. Some of his robed geese came here once, and they did try
to ruin my gadgets, but they couldn't open or break into the cabinet.
It is made of three strong metals and is overlaid with oak, inside and
out."
Lloyd began to understand Brook's position. He is a very powerful man,
successfully intimidated by petty fears. Fears as trifle as being
called a blasphemer or sorcerer but most of all, the fear that the
unity of Phoride would fall because of him.
Their attention was focused on the screen, at the images of flying
machines. Great metal monstrosities that shrieked when they flew, and
that were able to carry countless numbers of people to amy place in the
whole world.
"They were remarkable, weren't they?" Lloyd admired them, proud to be
descended from those who built them.
"I would think that we are the most remarkable." Brook's noting
puzzled Lloyd for a moment. "Afterall, we have survived our
forefathers' murder of each other!"
Lloyd smiled, realising that his Lord and master made a good point.
"Yes, I suppose that I've never thought of us in quite that way!"
The morning passed quickly while they spoke.
Brook showed Lloyd more taped recordings left for those people who may
have possibly succeeded the holocaust and deluge. One of those
successors was Carter Blue. He found the machine in Angaent, on his
way to Pomperaque, and used it to make the city a powerful state, in
itself, and so becoming its ruler and leaving it all to his own
offspring.
Brook showed to Lloyd the dozens or so books from the Twentieth
Century, that dealt in a wide range of topics. Some of the books that
Brook possessed included those on Architecture, History, Mathematics,
Art and also Theology.
Lloyd was impressed by the preserved quality and the information
contained within them. In just a few books, Brook had a good example
of what the ancient people were like, but what Lloyd waited for, with
such eager but patient anticipation, was the book that his Lord had
been so mysterious about.
"I'm still amazed," Lloyd began, "to see someone with the power to
save the world from a madman, lack the will-power to accomplish it."
Brook felt ashamed of his inability to show the definite power that he
possessed. But to keep peace and unity in Phoride, he had no choice
but to sacrifice his presence to that of the Almighty ArchBishop.
He tried to explain that to his guest, but he did not want to make
himself look like a coward. He only wanted to show his caution.
"I stayed within the walls of this house. I watched for intruders who
would hardly hesitate to hide little listening devices for that great
weasel. After he realized the motive behind my seclusion, he stopped
his spying. Later, he used my own vigilance to make me seem like a
recluse. But now, my friend, I can once again walk the streets of
Pomperaque because you are here to hold my place."
Lloyd, loyally bowed his head in trust-worthy acceptance, and
apologised for his unjust implication that Brook was a coward. Brook
forgave him for speaking so because he knew that, in his heart, Lloyd
didn't really mean it.
"Providence had thrust us together. You and I, Lloyd, will work
side-by-side, to return to this land its forgotten freedom and
greatness. We shall teach others all that we know. This is the only
way to change the ArchBishop's hold on my people."
Lloyd agreed.
His anticipation also grew to see the great book that Brook promised to
show him.
Brook made his way to a shelf near the white screen. From one of these
shelves he removed some books, slid a panel away and pulled out a
large, dark book.
"If ever I am defeated or destroyed, you must care for this place and
this book." Brook instructed.
With a silent breath, Brook made a confession to Lloyd, along with a
request for a service that would take him a life-time.
"I must ask a favour of you, my friend. If I am not granted the
opportunity and time to instruct Boy in what I know about the previous
millennia, you must take over for me, and you both must leave this
place." Brook sounded very peculiar. Lloyd wondered about that; his
mind engaged in waves of thought, while he tried to explain to himself,
the reason for Brook's request.
"I do not fully understand, my Lord. You want us to instruct your
servant. Why?" Lloyd asked, confused by Brook's behaviour.
"Yes. We must teach all those like him and especially him because,
Lloyd, Boy is my son! He will succeed me when I am gone. Which, I
pray, will not be too soon."
There it was. The one great secret about his life, that he had finally
confessed, and to this man, who was still nothing more than a wounded
guest in him home.
Lloyd was muted. He had wondered for several days about the boy. He
noticed how the boy was allowed to speak his piece, during his first
night with them, but he never guessed that this was the reason for it.
He waited to hear more.
"My Dearborne tried to keep this truth from me, for all these years.
The boy knows, too. His grandfather taught him well, how to behave
before me. But I still found out!"
Lloyd eagerly listened, for a while, forgetting about the great book
that he was holding in his hands.
"He arrived here by caravan when he was nine, as a servant for
Dearborne -- a gift from her father, Loebh of Hennai. However, I did
wonder when she was more than just pleased to see him, and then without
question accepted him. I wed her in Hennai during a trade conference
and the I came back here to Pomperaque to prepare for her to join me.
But it was almost a year before she came here, and I didn't find out
until just last year, that she gave birth to my son but didn't bring
him." Brook observed Lloyd fondling the large book that he gave to
him, earlier. Lloyd was deeply enthraled by the story and he wanted to
hear more. For a moment he forgot about the book.
"Why didn't she bring him, or at least tell you about his existence?"
"My problem with the ArchBishop had existed long before I married her.
This was the reason that I went to Hennai. I wanted to unite the
smaller and independent states with Phoride but, in most part, I failed
because of that almighty swine. Wile there, I met Loebh and his lovely
daughter. When we met, our love was obvious to us, like an exploding
star, and we married immediately. She was only sixteen and I was
thirty-five but her father openly welcomed my offer of marriage. She
did not object and we were wed. I revealed to her that we couldn't
have children right away. I suppose that she was afraid to tell me,
later."
"How did you find out?" Lloyd inquired with a sly tone.
"Loebh sent word to me last year. I don't know why he did it, but I am
grateful."
Lloyd smiled and shook his head in a manner which suggested disbelief.
He got up from his chair and went over to the window. He peered out
and sucked in a few deep breaths of air then turned to Brook and
laughed.
"You know, I came to Pomperaque for one reason; to alter the
ArchBishop's mind to the trade embargo on Besten. Now, all this. It's
amazing!"
Brook also laughed at Lloyd's humorous view of the way that his
original mission had changed. His presence had brought Brook his
freedom from staying in the Blue Mansion. All this happened after his
struggle, while he tried to tell the people of Phoride about the
ancients from which they were all descended.
Lloyd had become the catalyst for Brook's resurgence of strength. His
presence had that special chemistry that worked Brook's will into its
new power, and both men new for sure, that Brook would no longer remain
in his dormant retreat.
Lloyd finally began to examine the book, feeling the quality of its
cover and the raised gold lettered title. In breathless stupefaction,
he commenced to read it aloud.
"THE HISTORY OF NORTH AMERICA -- TO 1986 C.E.!"
"Yes. This book is the proof of the ancients, of our land, and of that
great civilization before our own millennium." Brook admitted to
Lloyd. He pointed at the book that Lloyd was now leafing through, and
then moved to his high-backed chair and sat down. "That book can make
those who are learned, at the Blaisaman, join my ways again.
Eventually they will all teach for me, from that
book. That, can destroy the ArchBishop, but first I must find some who
will follow it!" Lloyd smiled in awe, marvelling at what he read, and
almost, as if in love with the book, he sighed a spiritual praise.
"My God!" he breathed. "This looks like it's complete, right up to
the end of it all." He stopped for a moment to collect his wonderment,
staying with the aghast manner that he began with. "This is greater
than anything that I have ever seen. It's greater than anything that I
know of in besten. With this book, my Lord, we possess the means by
which to unite the whole world!" Lloyd intermittently lingered on a
page, reading it aloud, then followed with the usual spellbound glance
at Brook. Each time he reaffirmed that they were within reach of
destroying the almighty, the ArchBishop.
Soon Brook became annoyed and in a comparable tone of voice, ordered
Lloyd never again to call that maniac at Halls, the Almighty. Lloyd
didn't anger. He just apologized to Brook and promised never again to
do it.
"We can bring this whole continent together, under a friendly
democracy. The Virgin Mountains people of Dantoga, the Virunese, the
Elkinii plains people -- all would join you. Somehow, I feel that even
the Teniqués homosimians from the west, the Palatkan lepers, and maybe
even the dual-sexed S_dash would join with you!" Lloyd's excitement
filled the room, and as Brook listened to his dream, his heart also
pumped the blood of freedom and unity, through his veins. He felt
alive, once more.
"Everything can be, as it was for our ancient fathers. But we must not
rush into this quick change. We must court the people and slowly
introduce the concept to them. I don't want to destroy whatever unity
we may already have. We must do it with logic, and I believe that
changing the ArchBishop's embargo with your land may be the safest
place to begin!"
"I agree!" said Lloyd. "Phoride doesn't receive any of our goods
either, due to his insane monopoly."
Lloyd moved over to his master and friend, from the window and sat on
the stool beside his chair, while he still leafed through the great
book.
"I should not have allowed his embargo against Besten. It was wrong
and I am sorry. I wasn't in the position to alter what was to be!"
declared Brook, breathing deeply as he looked to the window at the
Blue, cloudless, afternoon sky. The skies were clear and the fear of
another rain had passed.
Lloyd understood Brook, now. With this understanding he told Brook not
to fret and that he was thankful that Besten was an ocean port, and
that they had an abundance of fish and other goods coming into the
city, by that means.
"My Lord, we must fight for what we believe in. I realize that there
have been many wars that the earth has seen. You, yourself, had once
forcibly united Phoride and made their lives happier than what they
knew." His understanding was saturated with talk of war. Brook looked
right into his guest's eyes and shook his head. He did not want war.
"War shall always be, my Lord!" Lloyd was insistent.
"Maybe, but there can be revolutionary changes without battle. My
father had once told me, that diplomacy was always better-sought and
best fought. Only if diplomacy fails, is war necessary!" Brook
explained his view to Lloyd, who was in agreement but again illustrated
the futility of talk. "Always, my Lord, there is diplomacy that may
prevent war, but always there are many who don't care to listen,
because it may be hurtful to their own interests! To them, wealth and
gain is put high above love and life!"
Slowly, the difference in their views pulled them apart, and a trivial
argument began between them. Brook became emotional, and rose from his
chair. He turned to Lloyd and loudly, took the dominance of his room,
which lasted only a moment until Lloyd interrupted him.
"War doesn't solve a thing, no matter how it is fought. The taring up
of the ground, the ripping apart of the young mens' bodies, the death
... death ... DEATH!" Brook built up to a frenzy giving his views.
Lloyd refused them.
"The realization of wastage is understood, but as our fathers tell us;
here, in this book, 'no cost is too extreme when trying to attain
freedom!', and I do believe that to be so!"
Silence.
Both stared at one another with heated, flaring eyes. Their faces were
contorted in strain and sweat leaked in huge droplets from their brows.
Then Brook sighed and put his hand on Lloyd's shoulder. He spoke
calmly.
"Young men should not be made to fight and die for the discontent and
hate of the old men in power; who create a war, in the name of God,
Love or Freedom. It's all an excuse to them. Can't you see that?
Lloyd didn't answer.
"Most of the ancient wars were fought because of the dislikes between
the men in power. Many of the wars, in our times, were the same.
Countless numbers of young men died without knowing what they were
fighting for. What is worse, Lloyd, is that the common folk had
suffered the most, and they weren't even supposed to be involved! Do
you understand?"
Lloyd was still silent, his mouth agape and mute or reply to the truths
that Brook was preaching. He nodded and bowed his head, as he
surrendered his view, with a final thought.
"War is necessary, sometimes!" was all that Lloyd said.
"True, my friend! The souls of mankind burn on this hellish ball, this
scorched Earth of ours. Some day we will be able to extinguish those
who cause the fatal spark. Until then, I will not let my hatred of the
ArchBishop, to become one of those sparks."
Throughout the afternoon, Lloyd and Brook continued to talk. Their
emotions toned down somewhat, to a level of trust and friendship, and
mutual exchange of knowledge.
Brook freely gave his knowledge to Lloyd without the demand of payment
and Lloyd accepted it, promising that he would in turn, give it to
Brook's son, and continued to instruct him until the sum of both their
knowledge or until one of them was expended.
Brook taught Lloyd to use the computer and showed him the locations of
the seven Omega Sub Ground Installations, strewn about the continent.
These were the same installations that were abandoned several centuries
ago, after civilization was reestablished on the land. Brook showed
Lloyd the location of the great library vault that was still hidden
near one of those installations. It was the same gigantic vault that
was closed down just prior to the great holocaust. It was a vault
carved deep into a mountain of solid granite, southeast of the Omega 4
- East SGI, at the head of the Krolalin range, to the north. The
mountain was known to them as, Alugean.
"There's enough food there for one man to live on for half a century.
If ever something happens to me, Lloyd, take the boy there. Go there
and learn as much as you can, and then teach the Bestenese people, and
try to teach mine. If nothing happens to me, I will send both of you
there, anyway, and you will learn." Brook ended his instructions and
Lloyd promised him, that when fit to travel, he would leave with Boy
and not return until Boy willed it.
The day seemed short to those in the Blue Mansion. After the Lord, his
Lady and their honoured guest had supped, they all retired to a
parlour-like room. That room was Dearborne's equivalent to Brook's
viewing-den.
She reclined in a large comfortable chair, soft and padded in cushioned
splendour while she rolled some yarn into a large ball, and hummed to
herself a mellow little tune.
Brook stood in the corner of the room by a small cabinet. He poured
wine into some glasses and motioned to hand the glasses to Dearborne
and Lloyd, who sat on a sofa near her at the window. Lloyd looked out
the window at the setting sun. He watched and listened to the people
coming out of their homes and heading for their evening fun-spots.
They had weathered the fretting indulgences brought to them by the rain
and they now behaved no differently than they had for months before the
rain.
Brook, with a silent tip of his head to the beloved wife, handed her a
glass of her once-favoured wine. She graciously accepted it from him
and stared at the glass. Her face exposed an expression of anxiety and
fear, afraid to drink, as if the glass of that delicate beverage had
been laced with some kind of poison. He gave to Lloyd a glass also,
breaking his concentrations of watching the columns of people below, as
they headed for the centre of Pomperaque, to their taverns and
theatres. The Lord lifted his glass and saluted those close to him,
within the room, with a toast to freedom and unity. They echoed him.
Lloyd kept his stare on the street, and Brook was curious as to what
interested his guest so much. He looked at Lloyd several times, and
every time he just stared out into the street. He seemed somewhat
intoxicated, although he only sipped once, at his wine.
Brook understood that Lloyd was only longing for his home in Besten.
He knew that the thoughts of his homeland and his near death, in
Pomperaque, had chilled his mind and made him dopey.
Lord Brook emptied his glass of wine and sighed, the sound of it
resonated throughout the room. He spoke, imitating a burly Bestenese
accent that grabbed the attention of both his lovely wife and Lloyd.
"Ah! -- 'What sweet sustenance we have in our thirst, for the smooth
wisp of truth found in a rose'!" said Brook, as he quoted one of
Besten's most renown poets. Lloyd glanced away from the window and
smile at Brook. Their rapport showed in their eyes and they didn't
need to speak. Brook looked at Dearborne and saw that she didn't react
to his poetry recital. Instead, she began to develop mannerisms of
someone who is disgusted. He thought that she just didn't approve of
his jest. Lloyd noticed a strangeness in her, too, but he thought that
it wasn't his place to say anything.
"At least you don't quote that Djenaud Smarte, my Lord. You have
taste!" Lloyd made ready to make some fun, if the Lord cared to jest,
himself -- and he did.
"Yes. Moreye was a great poet. I remember that he once jested about
Smarte. He said, 'Smarte could only write if intoxicated by the aroma
of a peasant's chicken-house, and that's why he lived in one'!" Brook
was amused as was Lloyd. He sat up better as not to spill his drink
while he laughed. He soon added to Brook's jest by conveying to him a
game that he learned in Besten, while he was still young.
"We once played games in Besten. Some Elders told us that these games
were very old but our own familiarities could be used to make them
humorous, to us. My father, Harvard, taught me this one and I found it
funny. The game goes like this. Someone appears at your door and
knocks. The one inside asks, 'who is there?', the outsider answers
with something and the insider asks again, the outsider's name and
'who?' Then one outside answers in a humorous manner."
To Brook, the explanation of the game, was funny enough for him,
because Lloyd began to take on a nature of a lad, Boy's age. Finally,
after Lloyd explained to Brook the game, he demonstrated it to him. He
told Brook what to say as the insider and the joke commenced. Lloyd
rapped on the wood of the chair's arm-rest, that represented the door.
He then pointed to Brook.
"Who is there?" asked Brook.
"Djenaud Smarte!" Lloyd replied.
"Djenaud Smarte, who?" asked Brook again, after being cued, once more.
"Djenaud as smart as I am!" said Lloyd and he laughed.
They found this cute little game somewhat interesting and continued to
play it for a while until they ran out of names that could be made fun.
Brook soon became restless, when he saw that Dearborne wasn't reacting
to their humour, without even the slightest grin.
Lloyd resumed his stare out the window. His spirited smile vanished
from his face as quickly as the wine vanished from his glass, that he
still held in his hand.
Out on the streets were groups of children walking together. Some
chewed on the intoxicating seeds of the Orumen flower. Lloyd shook his
head in disenchantment just as Brook also looked out the window and saw
the same.
"Sweet children playing in the streets, grow up to become hated by
their own kind. And soon they grow to hate themselves!" said Brook,
as he turned to Lloyd and Dearborne, then further, "Is that not so?"
the room was silent.
After a quarter-hour, while she slowly and perfectly wound her yarn
into a tight ball, Dearborne finally broke the silence.
"You cannot blame the children, my husband! They are all good. Only
circumstances change them. The times devour their innocent little
souls and burn into their hearts the hatred that grows as they do!"
Brook walked about the room and motioned to Lloyd, with his glass if he
would like some more wine, and he accepted. He took Lloyd's glass and
poured himself and his guest some more wine. He glanced at Dearborne's
glass, but she hadn't yet taken a single swallow from it.
"I don't blame them, my love. The devil -- the evil -- is in all of
them. They discover it during their transitions. Some of these
mischievous children discover their good and their evil, and some find
it to their advantage, that evil is of more benefit to them. So turns
the world." Brook exclaimed to his wife and gulped his wine. He
studied her for a few moments, in puzzlement, and wondered why she
hadn't touched her wine. Then, as if his thoughts touched hers, she
stopped rolling her yarn and put the glass to her precious lips and
like a little bird, took a sip. However, Brook saw that she was not
enjoying it and he worried that something was wrong, but he didn't pry
her with questions. He felt that she would eventually come to him
herself, when she found the time to be right for her.
Lloyd, on the couch, still peered out the window at the street. He
kept an open ear to the exchange between his host and hostess, and he
slowly drank his wine. In the distance he noticed some of the farmers
irrigating their farm terraces with water, mechanically drawn from the
Artesian reservoirs beneath the city.
Throughout the evening, from the time the sun had begun to drowse until
it finally bedded-down for the night, Brook paced about the room. He
was deeply into his thoughts, and he occasionally surveyed his beloved
wife, Dearborne, and also his guest Lloyd. Lloyd maintained his stare
out the window during this lulling tide of time. Mesmerized by the
beauty of this land, he still longed to see Besten again. Brook
empathized with Lloyd's sentiment and left him to it until he felt that
Lloyd's thoughts, were causing him to brood and Brook did not want to
see people, brooding in the house. He recognized that Dearborne was on
the verge of breaking under the strain of trying to prevent her own,
and he did not want to see Lloyd in a moody state.
He finally sat at the end of the couch that Lloyd was on, choosing the
end closer to his wife. He stared at Dearborne, then at his other
side, at Lloyd. His voice attained the quality of a seer. "The days
pass too quickly, for one to hold-onto the precious moments in life,
however trifle and few!" he stated with the strength of compassion,
understanding and love, and in his ultimate wisdom, he imparted to
those close to him a morbid idea. "We must all one day die -- and may
it be in peace, and with God!" When he finished, he saw a shiny tear
trickle down Dearborne's flushed cheek.
She sipped at her wine once more, put it on the table in front of her
and pushed it away.
Brooks and Lloyd watched as she set the drink down, and for a while,
the only sounds that were heard in the parlour were that of breathing
and the rustling of their clothes. He observed her and he loathed to
see the torment that churned within her beautiful eyes. He finally
found it within himself, to question her behaviour.
"Something troubles you, my Love? Don't you like the drink?" he asked,
with worry.
Lloyd reckoned the Lady and her glass, drawing a feeble connection
between them, that he thought was the reason behind her moody behaviour.
"Why don't you drink your wine, my Lady? I know of no woman in the
land that dislikes rose-wine. Some may drink it more than others, but
all like it!" Lloyd requested, seeing in her eyes that his observation
his its mark.
She stared at her glass, her eyes burned with contempt therein, and she
shrugged in utter abomination, as she, in a nauseated tone, answered
her guest.
"I am quickly acquiring a distaste for it." she said, then carried
on, as she met Lloyd's eyes, "I am acquiring a distaste for the rest
of Phoride!"
Brook raised an eyebrow in surprise when he heard his lovely Dearborne
speak so. He leaned forward and put his gentle hand, lovingly on her
forearm until she set her own hand overtop of it and leered into his
eyes.
"What is wrong, my love? charged Brook, growing hot with worry. Their
eyes became one entity, emanating from both their minds and so joining.
Lloyd got to his feet. Still at the window, he aimlessly gaped out
through its portal and added to the earlier tracings of thought
regarding his intuitive lore. And, as if in riddle, he recited to
Dearborne, who understood his conjecture.
"There may be certain disillusions that are regarded as factual, by
some people?" he said, and she agreed.
Dearborne put her ball of yarn to one side and issued from her chair.
She peered at her Brook, for a long time, apprehensive at whether or
not to tell him the heavy burden that she carried within herself. She
still clutched his hand. He felt her tremble like a cold little
kitten, and his eyes pleased to her, to reveal her thoughts to him and
gain strength from his willingness to be receptive. She told him
everything.
"It is something that happened the day that I brought Lloyd to this
house!" and she told him everything about Cardinal Allen's advances on
her. Brook's forehead wrinkled as he listened, his brow rose, and
sweat flowed from it. His lips pursed in anger, and she saw anger
emanating from his eyes, along with the storms of worry there, also.
Lloyd was poised, still listening to her. "He later assured me that
this was not so and I apologized. I don't know why!" her voice
quivered as she began to cry. "I don't know why?"
She carried on, repeating that she didn't know why she had apologized.
Her words became snarled under her gasps of breath. Lloyd stepped
towards her, to give assistance and Brook embraced her tightly trying
to impart to her his stalwart volition.
"That Devil's dog has soiled your spirit! He shall pay. He shall
never corrupt again!" promised Brook.
"He did nothing to me," Dearborne admits. "It's only what he had said
to me when I was drinking my rose wine ... how a woman is hot-blooded
towards her lover if she drinks from the rose." she continued to cry
while she held on to Brook as if he was a cliff and beneath her was a
bottomless void. "Now I cannot enjoy wine, and my mind is frightened
of him!"
Lloyd was quiet. He watched Brook's attempts to sedate his Lady.
Through Lady Dearborne's words and actions, Lloyd now grasped the full
meaning of the struggle and pains in the hearts of those who saved his
life.
"I understand, now, my Lord!" Lloyd ejaculated in prehension. "The
perversities from mind, to body, to earth. The almi ... the evil
ArchBishop's salvation of the world is DAMNATION!"
"Now you know why I need you to help me, in my cause. Even after I am
gone! You know why you must ... teach ... all that we know -- " Brook
appealed knowing the assured outcome to his requests.
"Yes!" was all that Lloyd answered with. It was enough and clear,
and proved his loyal promise to one man's vision of freedom and unity.
"You will be alright, my love!" Brook promised Dearborne. "Telling me
frees you from your trials. Rest easy now! Lloyd will stay with you.
I must go and sort this incident in my mind. I must prepare myself to
confront that miscreant at Halls." he touched Lloyd's arm and without
words asked him to keep Dearborne company while he retired to his
thoughts. Lloyd complied.
Brook kissed Dearborne and with his hand, gently wiped some of the
tears from her face, then without further delay, left the room for his
den.
Shortly after Brook left their presence, Lloyd and Dearborne quietly
sat on the couch and when she finally stopped crying, she thanked Lloyd
for being so good in staying with her. Lloyd promised that he was
pleased to serve her and that he could never fully repay her entire
household for their help in rescuing him from his near fatality in the
square.
She was quiet for the longest time. Lloyd remained beside her, also
quiet. His manners dictated to him to be polite and not question her
thoughts, but after some time of quiet meditation, she requested of
Lloyd to be a judge on her actions in telling Brook about what had
happened between her and the Cardinal Allen.
He thought for a few moments and told her not to fret because she did,
indeed, do what was necessary. He told her that her husband had the
right to know about some perverse chancre of a man, who had practised
his lechery on her.
"I am glad that I told him this!" she admitted. She felt much better
and less guilty from fear that she was an inspiring factor; that she
was the cause for the lecher to come forth to her as if she were a
harlot. She continued. "I don't know that I should've told him now.
Maybe earlier would've been better. I was frightened. I did not want
to see him confront the ArchBishop out of rage, for my sake. I did not
want to leave this house for that reason!"
Lloyd touched her reassuringly and in a soft but powerful voice, lifted
this new burden from her mind. He soothed her fear of Brook's
confrontation with the ArchBishop.
"Don't worry, Lady! He will be careful with that vermin. He has
motivation, now, to release Besten from the economic blockade, and he
has his personal grievances to settle. The ArchBishop will not know
how to cope!"
"My husband is brave, Master Bartlet. Because of you ... because of
myself and because of all those like our Boy, I see him in the throws
of changing this entire land."
More silence crept into the room. Dearborne was turned towards Lloyd,
her face filled with an enigma that wanted to break free from her. He
knew that in her heart, she had something else that was very, very
important for him to know. In recent days that passed, he had seen it
in her face. Now, however, it was most prevalent and in their
intimate, profound faith, in one another's trust, she finally gave him
her private testimony.
"I must tell you something, Lloyd."
"Your servant, my Lady."
"I see our lives closing-in on us, in this place. You, my loyal
confident, must carry on for Brook, for us, if something evil occurs!"
she made a familiar request to him.
"I understand, my Lady!" he replied.
"I wish that you really do." she stopped for a second to collect her
thoughts and courage. "I pray that you keep what I now have to tall
you, private and between us!" she said. Lloyd waited in anticipation,
guessing at what she was going to tell him. "Our servant, Boy, is
Brook's and mine, natural son." she finished and observed a trifle
grin spread over Lloyd's face. Somehow, he had anticipated correctly,
and he felt himself to be the most privileged of men, to have such high
trust and confidence bestowed on him. A fortunate man, who not more
than a week ago was dragged into their house, a near-dead stranger. He
nodded his head to her, and took her hands into his own.
"Yes! I was curious about the similarity in his appearance to him and
Brook! I wondered at the worry that you both expressed in him, the
evening of the rain, and also the privileges that you both indulge him
with."
Lloyd, however, did not tell her that he already knew that which she
had told him. As before, he found that it was not his place to inform
on that which should be done by someone closer.
"You will stay here, won't you?"
"I will, for as long as I am permitted, my Lady. I do owe my life!"
She thanked the eternal God that they were blessed with this man's
presence in their home, and then commenced to tell him more about Boy
and the fact that Brook didn't know that Boy was his son.
"He was born Boyce Loebh Scullion-Blue, in my father's land of
Hennai." she revealed to Lloyd, and he listened with interest to, the
already familiar parable.