Lukas' comment irked Secrat some, and he knew it was visually apparent, but he didn't want Lewis to have the small victory, "I am sorry to inform you of this, but I won't be leaving anytime soon."
"But I'll see to it that you're always a nobody here," Lukas Lewis fired back fast. "Veras told me the only way you'll ever be made an Elite is if I offer forgiveness. And unless he goes back on that, that means you'll never be an Elite."
Lukas Lewis' words sounded less and less like that of anger or bitterness, and more and more like somebody who realized he had full control of the situation. Secrat didn't like that.
But Secrat only smiled. "I am sorry you see it that way. I hope I'll one day be able to have your forgiveness."
Chapter Eleven
The horses galloped fast. Everything was back in motion as it needed to be, and The Flux thieves would be arriving at Italina in due time. From there, it'd be about finding passage beyond the gates and doing what else needed to be done.
Secrat didn't know exactly what needed to be done though. And that brought an uneasiness in him, a feeling of angst he had to smash down to the bottom of his stomach with the help of sips from his flask.
He leaned his back against the side of the wooden wagon as it rocked back in-fourth. The Thief had doubts any of them knew what to expect. It seemed as if nobody could offer insight about the Aer Festival as nobody had been to one.
Even the meaning behind its name was cryptic and obscure, Copé hadn't even the faintest of guesses. The Festival was meant to celebrate Maharris' triumphs and successes as a whole. Italina deemed itself the capital of the entire region and had an entire museum dedicated to Maharris. They invited men and women from the four other cities to join them. That's all Copé knew about the event. Didn't even know if Italina's invitations were ever accepted.
Samuel Syi was once more at the reins, and everybody found sanctum in their designated seats, exactly the same as last time. Lukas Lewis did, however, seem more rested. In-fact, Lukas looked at ease and like the weight of the world was off his shoulders. That's how he looked at first glance, but Secrat didn't take any more than that, and for all he knew, it could have been his own suspicions creating a mirage.
The sun's rays became fainter, a full day's worth of travel. Beads of sweat no longer accumulated as fast on Secrat's brow.
That's what happened when they neared Italina. It became cold, even in the summer-time, whereas Acera was hot, even during most of winter. But the countless bodies roaming throughout the festival would likely offer restitution in the form of body heat.
"I remember the first time I met Toucan," Brutus said, looking over at Secrat, "This was before The Red Flux even existed."
Copé looked over to Brutus, giving him his attention, but found his eyes taken again by the scenery around him.
The trees as they closed in on Italina were all dead or dying, some of them only a little thicker than the average stick. In some instances, branches hung down from the trees from high-up only to limply dig into the dirt. In the times when the branches seemed thick, Samuel would navigate the horses around them, but in other times, he'd simply let the horses snap through them.
"What you have to know about Toucan is, he was always THAT intimidating of a figure. Nobody ever picked a fight with him. Ever. Plain and simple, you didn't do it. And, it was easy enough, Toucan kept to himself, was quiet and distant. Like Sero over-there," Brutus said, looking over to Marc at the end of the wagon, who was not listening to Brutus' banter. "I once picked a fight with him though, back in Urgway." Secrat's eyes wandered over to Brutus', curious. Brutus smiled, "He and I were botanists. That's what you did if you were from Urgway, you went underground, you dug, or you worked on the plants."
Copé chuckled, "Underground?"
"That's right," Brutus answered back. "Urgway grew plants underground. Strange ones, kinds that didn't need sunlight. Special black fruits that tasted like ash. Those were are food, the ones we ate. How we were paid."
"I never knew that," Copé answered back. "Toucan never told me about that."
"Wasn't exactly something one wants to remember. Like everywhere else you go, you have the richest ones and the poorest ones. We ate ashes for breakfast and dinner, and the rich ones ate their heart's desire. Some of us were sick more than not," Brutus explained. "We grew other things too, down there, and moth cocoons let us make silk."
"I remember though, one night though, I was angry and drunk, and what you need to know about me is I do stupid things when I am angry and drunk. One of the things was trying to fight him. One of those stupid things was trying to fight Toucan. Now, we weren't friends back then or nothing, nothing except casuals bumping into each other from time to time. Didn't take it easy on me." Brutus laughed. "I don't even remember what I thought he did, but I remember what he did when I confronted him though." Ess smiled larger, and this time, however, Copé noticed all the gaps in his mouth where teeth were missing. He smirked some at the thought of Brutus being pummeled by Father.
"A few months went by and I stayed clear of him. Didn't make eye-contact, didn't say nothing. He had that fear in me that he gives. But, we had these men, Urgway leaders and high-ranking officials, they'd come down and observe our performances. An older woman, ... she couldn't move fast anymore. Her bones were brittle and her body terribly malnourished. One of the Urgway leaders kept yelling after her, over and over again. Telling her to work faster, telling her to do this or do that. And, finally, he struck her. In the back. She fell." An uncharacteristically sad look went on Brutus' face, the fed-up look Copé always saw on his Father's face. "It took one hit to cripple that woman. Toucan didn't like that none too well. He threw him at the wall so hard I thought the whole thing would cave in. More knights came out next, wailing on Toucan. And, I don't know why, maybe I was drunk and angry again, but I made the decision to try and help fight the knights off. They overpowered us, and the consequence was three straight days in the hole."
Brutus let out a loud sigh and looked at Copé with watery eyes. "Long story short, we escaped Urgway a little after that, and we've been best friends ever since!" Brutus exclaimed, letting out a forced laugh.
Secrat laughed awkwardly as well and laid his head down. Their arrival was readily approaching, and he welcomed it with anxious anticipation.
2
Brutus Ess was first to notice Italina's gates as they came to view. Or, at least, the first to say something about it. Samuel Syi undoubtedly would've noticed. "That took forever and then some," Ess ushered out with a fierce, loud inflection that broke into the long-lasting silence like a broadsword into a loaf of bread. It was always him to break the silence.
Samuel Syi said nothing, focused; he threw a thumb in the air to let him know he was aware. The horse's direction started to sway off from the gates, and did so early enough to appear inconspicuous from the guards.
As they neared Italina, the forward encumbered itself with horses and men. Carriages and wagons. Some men on foot. Soldiers from all Maharris visible, each distinguishable by their emblems and sigils, skin-pigment and demeanor. They accumulated so fast, and for an instant, it seemed as if horses outnumbered the men and women.
Once they made it to where they were headed, they would have their wagons searched. The thought of how difficult it'd be to smuggle items felt more readily apparent.
Samuel swayed away from the ongoing herds; the horses starting to slow themselves off, either by command or by the fatigue setting into their legs.
As the troupe closed in on the walls of the coveted city, Secrat arose to one knee, inspecting it with a keenness he never offered it before.
The granite walls a bleak grayish color with speckles of white. All the other times Secrat had visited, he assumed the walls were smooth and without blemish, but as he looked now, he could see the jagged edges and indentions. Not by design, but because the time endured.
Copé felt his balance disrupted as the wagon's flooring became rickety. He kept from falling,
and once they were far out enough, stopping was at last feasible.
At the end of their journey, the sound of the horses galloping was quieted. It felt strange not to hear it. But with a neighing sound, the horses were allotted the means to rest.
Secrat climbed from his knees and up to his feet. His legs wobbled for a moment. His knees began coming in together, but after a small and less than graceful stumble, he steadied his stance.
A small chuckle came from Brutus, "This ain't no time to be dancing, Secrat!" That might have brought laughter from at least one of the other members of the Flux, but the rest of them were startled by his abruptness, including Secrat, who flinched. Brutus was too absorbed with his own self-indulgence to notice, however.
Secrat left the wagon and the others soon followed, all except for Taison. Taison sat with a relieved look on his face that made Secrat wish he COULD'VE been like The Carvers, if only for a second.
Secrat met Samuel on the side of the wagon. "Are you alright?" Secrat inquired with a look of honest concern on his face.
Samuel Syi's eyes looked bloodshot and like hadn't slept for days. And while Secrat knew that wasn't true, he knew Samuel was a lot less rested than the others. "The thickness in the air ... every time I am around here .... it always bothers me." Samuel's voice had more annoyance than what Secrat had come to expect from his laid back demeanor.
That's what exhaustion and dirty air did to the best of them. Italina wasn't that bad though. A small, but sudden change that wouldn't be noticed for more than an evening's time. It was a lot worse when they neared Hardan.
Maybe it was the minimal agriculture; the grass, a sickly yellow, or either none at all, and the trees absent. Maybe that was it, but beside some slight sensitivity to the eyes, none of it was too much of a burden. Secrat had become accustom to sand in his eyes after all the time in the Whispy Deserts, Italina was a breeze in-comparison.
"Do you think guards will be an issue?" Secrat asked, his ears awaiting the sound of Samuel's voice more than anyone.
Samuel didn't answer him at first, he rubbed the outside of his eyelids, but that only seemed to worsen his discomfort. "You afraid they'll search us on our way out?" Samuel inquired knowingly, for which Secrat answered with a nod.
Samuel began walking his legs, needing them stretched out and awoke. "If we don't do anything foolish to draw attention to ourselves, that shouldn't be an issue. They don't usually stop to search the common-folk walking on foot. It'd take ages, and that's why we aren't bringing the wagon." Samuel leaned himself forehead, reaching his hands down to his toes. He arose back to a straight form. "They might stop us on our way in. They might even search us. But when the Aer Festival has started, there will be a lot of back in fourth, and so long as we don't make ourselves out as special, I see no reason the guards would think other-wise."
Secrat followed Samuel Syi to the back of the wagon. It felt chilly outside, but Secrat felt the moistened sweat of the day's travels. Samuel Syi's dark skin shined as well, and his hair was slicked back. Secrat watched as Syi's eyes went over to Taison, who sat with that fat, unassuming face Secrat already found himself hating.
"If you have any reason to believe you are in-danger of being found by a guard, or if you feel like you are being stalked by someone in the wilderness, relocate to the other-side of the wall. We will find you afterward and another of us will be set aside with you."
Taison's eyes became larger than before, as if he only now realized the small amount of danger for him. He nodded fast and asked, "What do you mean by stalked? I am just somebody in a wagon, nothing else about it?" His words; unsteady and worried, like they should have been statements, but his fear crippled them by force and made them questions.
"I don't think anything will happen, Taison," Samuel Syi assured. He sounded soothing and levelheaded with his words. An easy-feat for Samuel. "I don't think anything will happen, but the Aer Festival is Italina's one major event, and I can't exactly say how much it will fill out. But, there's always a chance some might see you. The Red Flux isn't the only troupe, but we might very well be one of the nicest. Remember that, and react," Samuel advised.
A small dose of fear set into Taison's mind; a small shivering up his spine to stress severity. Samuel had a small manipulative side to him, one he likely inherited from his time with Father Toucan.
Secrat smiled at the thought. Taison didn't.
Brutus Ess tied the horses down to a tree-stump beside the walls. Trees were cut down anywhere near Italina. They might have used the lumber, but Secrat figured it was because the King thought they were eyesores.
Samuel Syi led the Flux. Secrat Copé, Lukas Lewis, Brutus Ess, and Marc Sero followed. The smell in the air was stuffy, like a deeply encumbered room of dust, a strange smell for a large-open area. They made it to the front of Italina's gate, and there were even more folk roaming about than earlier. Various fellows, different fellows, of all different age-groups and ethnicities. Tan of skin depicting Acerian residents; conversely, older ladies with pale skin and curmudgeon grimaces were most certainly from Hardan.
Samuel Syi and Lukas Lewis paired off with one another, walking forward toward the guards. Secrat and Brutus aligned as well. An effort to seem inconspicuous. Marc Sero, on the other-hand, was by himself. The way he liked it.
The guard before Samuel and Lukas was a serious man. A face that looked sour and depraved by unpleasantries. A black mustache and grey helm over his head that hid his hair. His armor; brightly colored, looked almost like pure-silver. And, it might have been, knowing how wasteful Italina had a habit of being.
"What is your business here at Italina, the finest among Maharris, known profoundly for having the finest eating establishments and definitely not to forget, the impeccable Sanchi Tower which overlooks much of the Amisoic Seas and even sees all the way out to Olzaric?" The man said the words fast and without enunciation. Having clearly rehearsed his lines, the man still managed to give off a righteous and self-congratulating front. Standing proudly as he spoke, the man even twirled the long ends of his mustache while the words escaped his lips.
Lukas Lewis brushed off some dirt from his clothes; the clothing adorned by the Flux consisted of worn and tired fabric, with leggings that looked none too better. Women and Father Toucan Veras are the only ones who dressed in fine clothing.
The guard scoffed at Lukas, but it was Samuel who spoke. "And what a humble honor and privilege it is for my colleague and I to be welcomed into this beautiful city for the Aer Festival. Perhaps I'll even take a gander at the majestic Sanchi Tower with my own eyes." His voice had slight playful sarcasm in his voice Secrat doubted the Italinian Guard capable of finding.
The guard shot him a look of skepticism. His head tilted up in a way literally letting him look down his nose at Samuel. "You can see the Sanchi Tower all the way from the Wilderness from which you came. It's the tallest building in all Maharris. If what you're inferring is you'd like to get near, and/or perhaps touch our fine monument, you might as well go back from whence you came."
Secrat Copé couldn't see the facial expressions from Lewis, but they must have been unfavorable; the guard threw his eyes over at him with a look of disgust and offense. Samuel managed, however, to bring the guard's attention elsewhere, "We wouldn't even dream of touching the Sanchi Tower. Being in the same town is more than enough."
"Hmm, yes," the guard said; "both of you may enter beyond Italina's doors, but I must remind every guest they are to be on their best behavior. This isn't just some soiree for common-folk. The event is a celebration of Italina's history and the fine men and women that layer it. King Harries will even be leaving his throne to offer a celebratory speech, that of which, you must show the deepest of respects toward."
Lukas Lewis said nothing. Neither did Samuel Syi. The guard threw his right hand up into the air, his index finger erect, motioning toward the men at the parapets. They walked atop the walls behind him and called out to some others on the inside, soon came the sound of
rattling chains as the large wooden doors at the center of the granite walls began to come open.
"Welcome to Italina," the guard said, enthused as if beyond him was the opened gates to heaven.
Samuel and Lukas walked beyond the gates and into the city. Several men and women walked out with them. They had already been accepted in by some of the other guards.
There were three guards; counting the one with the black mustache and pompous voice.
Secrat could see crowds and crowds of men and women walking about. That's all The Thief could see though; no buildings or items on display. It was even more crowded than anticipated. He felt the back of his shoulder shoved fourth by the commotion behind him. He fell to the side of Brutus Ess, using him as a crutch to keep stability.
"Careful there," Brutus said, and for a moment, Secrat felt the sudden déjà vu of his time in the Whispy Deserts. Secrat relented and brought himself back to a vertical stance, though, he still felt individuals shove and brush against him during his efforts to move forward.
The crowd's made him feel uneasy, but also churned out adrenaline in his veins. He no longer had eyes on Marc Sero, but kept a close-watch on Brutus Ess.
The Gates Closed.
Secrat noticed Brutus veering off to the far-left, away from the Italinian Guard that ushered in Samuel Syi and Lukas Lewis. The other guards preoccupied with other civilians, Brutus appeared to deem waiting a fair compromise for not dealing with the noted man.
Secrat followed him, gently brushing against anyone in his wake. A change in his demeanor, Secrat felt the perplexity vanquish all his former grace and found his movements to resemble that of a man panicking as the walls of a cave closed in on him.
In earshot, Copé could hear the intermingling between one of the Guards and a Civilian. “The Aer Festival's loaded this year. Looks like a fine one for certain…yes ... If you'll simply step aside, we'll have the Gates opened after the threshold's reached. Thank you,” the Guard instructed. The Civilian traipsed closer to the gate and stood.
The Red Flux and the Wunderkind Thief Page 14
