“Luke, it is fine, I believe you. Tell me.”
Someone greeted Grigelmo at that moment and was surprised to see him chatting with Benito. They passed in front of the imposing stone building that served as a student jail and even professors. It had not been active for many years because it was recent that there were outrages in the city. Luke knew him well and did not like the area. They turned down a dark alley that led to the students' residence and finally came up with the solution:
"Actually, it's very simple: you have to pee in the mouth of a freshly caught and still alive pike. Once pissed to fill the fish, so that the urine overflows from the corners of its mouth, immediately, you have to throw it back into the river. You do not have to lose a second.”
“And that's it.”
“Nothing more. It is infallible, Benito. Listen to me.”
The two students resumed their way back to the university. In five minutes, they had their next class.
5
Two months later, taking advantage of the vacation week they gave at the Sacruceda University for being Holy Week, the young Castagno traveled day and night to almost the other side of Gurracam. On Wednesday, in the morning, he arrived at his destination: the bank of the Muskalonge river, which was reputed to be where the most of pike in the whole kingdom was fished, and from which the kitchens of the Royal Palace of St. Josafar were supplied.
Benito knew that given his expertise in any human discipline it would be impossible for him to fish anything in that river, but he also knew the great fondness that there was in that area for fishing for pike; after all, if you knew how to cook, it was an exquisite snack and fishing did not cost you any money; therefore, it did not take long for him to meet a fisherman carrying a formidable five-pound pike that he had just taken from the depths of the river.
“Hello good man. I see you have caught a good piece.”
“Yes sir.”
“I buy it. How much do you want?”
The man, who had a strong dark skin color and had to be an angler by hobby and not by trade, thought for a while and saw the possibility of doing a good business. Since he had no idea of the price, he said:
“How much do you give me?”
“A bronze Alexandrine.”
"Make it ten," said the man with the pike, who had from the beginning had the firm intention to put a zero to the figure that was offered.
Benito paid without question because he was not a person fond of bargaining. The angler handed him the newly caught piece. Castagno took the fish uncertainly, because it moved uneasily. After a while, it calmed down again. If the poor animal could have known the martyrdom that awaited it, would not have stopped beating.
Benito sought a hiding place among the vegetation near the shore. He carried the fish in a net, which bit with its fine, long teeth like needles. When he thought he was well protected from other people's eyes, he took the part of the animal's mouth from the net and stepped on his thin body against the ground, resting his head, completely covered with scales, on a stone. In this way, the fish, huddled in the net, folded in a strange position, as if trying to look at who trampled it. To keep its flat snout open, he pierced a stick, quite difficult indeed, and severely wounded inside its mouth. When Castagno thought he had everything controlled, he looked in all directions, took out his penis and began to urinate; but, in the height of his misfortunes, he was now unable to empty his entire deposit of minor waters. He had been a day and a half without pissing and drinking as much water as he could, waiting for this moment. In this period of time there were tragic moments, in which he seemed unable to bear it anymore and he feared getting his clothes wet... and now, that he could empty his bladder on the verge of bursting, there was no way to do it.
The fish, instead of collaborating, did not stand still and it slipped out of his foot every ten seconds; Castagno, then, kept his penis again and repeated the operation to immobilize the poor animal. Seeing that this system did not finish working, he decided to hook the net to six sticks that, first, he nailed to the ground. Now there was no need to step on the pike, it was reasonably tied and still.
Castagno's reproductive system came out of hiding for the tenth time. He looked at the head of the animal and felt spied in the privacy of that moment. Therefore, he chose to contemplate the tops of the trees and build strength. After five minutes, finally, came out a rather ridiculous stream of transparent yellow urine. He tried to aim and first got wet on his left foot. Finally, the rust fell squarely on the mouth of the pike, which turned violently, trying to escape the rain of hot liquid that sprayed the recent wounds of the mouth. Moreover, it managed to escape from the network of what was now its owner, breaking it by the part that was hooked to the sticks. The fish jumped and contorted as all the aquatic animals do when they are removed from their natural environment. Benito tried to catch it again with his foot, stomping the floor and never the pike, which slipped perfectly.
The angler who had caught the pike managed to pass by, at that moment, and when he saw the scene he laughed away laughing and calling him crazy. Benito, with an impressive anger, took the fish with one hand —crushing it despite its five kilos— and with the other pointed the piss fountain towards the bleeding mouth of the poor animal. He felt terrible chills to see how the fish closed and opened its mouth in what seemed to him attempts to want to bite him right there. He moved away a little more from the fish and made strength trying to think of something else. Such he did that could not prevent a huge windiness comes untimely... However, along with this rumble began to flow the urine as if it had uncovered the spout of a fountain and the pike, this time indeed, was left with its mouth overflowing with yellow urination. When it was over, the fish was almost dead, motionless except for some jolt almost without force, its mouth overflowing with smoky rust; but it still lived, so he took the stick from its nose and ran to throw it into the river, where after a few seconds of standing still in the bottom, it swam a little dazed, hitting the stones and leaving a red and yellowish trail, until Castagno lost sight of it. At that moment, he heard how four people were laughing behind him not too far away.
"Look at the madman! He has paid me ten bronze Alexandrians for the pike and now he throws it into the river," the angler shouted to his friends.
"But you have seen how it goes!” Exclaimed one of them.
They continued to laugh until Benito left far enough for the forest to hide himself completely. Even though it was not so funny, I could still hear the laughter.
Far from those people, the bachelor began to walk satisfied with the feat that had just ended, realizing alarmed after his penis was still on the air.
“That's why those savages laughed so much!” He thought aloud.
Soon, he felt an overwhelming desire to urinate, and, without a pike to look him straight in the eye, he relieved himself more than pleasantly.
Chapter 7
The fall of the bale game
1
T
he night had not been very cool and Mario Toulon Rabid slept really well under that tree with long branches, full of large leaves, which moved with the soft night breeze, rocking the thief in his sleep. He placed his bundle at the foot of the tree’s trunk and rested his head in the direction of the starry sky that appeared framed between the branches and the ground. His threadbare black cloak, full of seams and dirt, turned out to be more than enough shelter. Hiding in it, he looked absentmindedly at the immensity of the sky and saw the stars of the Great Bear without knowing that all together formed a constellation. Little by little, his eyes closed and he peacefully fell asleep. He woke up in the same position and without too much laziness ate two loaves, still tender, which left him quite satisfied for the moment.
His pockets were full, because the town he left behind, Newvillage from Navalhill, must be of very rich people. He thought to do the same thing he had done since he was a boy: he would arrive in another town, maybe a city; he would lead a life full of pleasures in which he wo
uld give free rein to all his sexual and culinary desires and whims of any other kind. He would be like that a week at the most, that is, as long as the money lasted. At this point, would steal and disappear from that place, never to return or at least in many years. In this way, his face did not become too well known anywhere. In the worst case, someone could remember him for having left good money in their business, but over the years these people also forgot.
This was a kind of life with little or no future and it had already cost him more than one beating, more than one whiplash and more than one broken bone; but it was the only thing he really liked and knew how to do. He had never considered what would become of him when he was older and his hands lost the speed and skill they wielded now. As work was a strong repellent for Mario Toulon, reflected on the possibility of looking for an apprentice, a rapacious of those starving who sometimes found his way and that —as he had done in his day— would not refuse the food given by a stranger. He would teach him his misunderstood art and craft, and with time and the love of friction would end up living on the product of the thefts of his disciple. They were very long-term plans but whenever he thought of them he had a worrying question: perhaps these people were so trustworthy —perhaps he was— or in other words more direct: it was not true as the Sun's own light this type of students ended up robbing and murdering the teacher...
He followed that path straight ahead, in search of his new residence town, when, suddenly, two horsemen passed by him. He left the road but not enough to be filled with dust and sand, as they did not slow down.
“Son of a bitch!” He shouted to himself, for one of his rules was to pass, as far as possible, almost non-existent at all times. A little over a year ago, in La Alpurria del Campo, he broke this rule and now it was going to cost him dearly.
One of the riders signaled to the other to stop. They stayed talking for a while and casting surreptitious glances at Mario Toulon, who was several tens of meters away from them. The thief instinctively realized that they were talking about him and thought that maybe they wanted to rob him. Precisely now that he was well packed. The insult could not have offended them because he almost did not listen it, but for any reason the thief was sensed a danger that seconds before did not exist.
He hid behind a tree to wait for them to leave, but they did not decide to follow their path. Rather it seemed as if they were planning how to attack. In this situation, the only thing that occurred to Mario Toulon was to run across the forest leaving the path. The riders saw him flee and after turning back, they began to chase him.
Mario Toulon was moving at a good pace, with the skill that gave his office for these games, but in one of his long strides he stepped on a little mountain of dirt and rubbish belonging to the entrance of an anthill, with such bad luck that he twisted his ankle. He gave a scream for the initial damage, but did not want to stop so that the pain did not increase. Neither is that stopping running would benefit him at all because the riders, of course, were getting closer and closer.
There were no doubts: Severus Galvan Ronquillo de Brizuelas and Sabine Olozaga Carpio de Villaquiran, the two brutal young men hired by Sir Higinio, had the man they were looking for in front of their noses, and they were not going to let him escape.
2
When they came across Mario Toulon Rabid, four or five months had elapsed since that Wednesday when Sir Higinio entrusted Sabine y Severus with this latest work. They had been very good. The task was certainly complicated. "This is looking for a needle in a haystack," Severus said repeatedly during his trip, but whether by chance or by his good work, now was the hardest thing to do.
The two men’s investigations forced them to go through towns such as The Sale of Casariche, Oldsing or Carrilas of Barranda, without finding any trace of the thief. In the Navas de Masegoso they were deceived, giving them false information that led them to The Town of Argallon and Guadalchopos, which were towns by where Mario had never passed in his life. Seeing that they were losing track of the thief, they decided to return to the itinerary that had been prefixed as the most probable when they left La Alpurria, but they did not mind going back to Las Navas de Masegoso, and losing —or winning— part of their time. They looked for the hustlers who wanted to take advantage of them and left them crippled —and almost dead— after a storm of blows and punches as brutal as they were unnecessary. They recovered the money they had been given for the false information and they stole the money they had kept in their homes, which turned out to be not little; and their women, fortunately, were not raped because they were as ugly and unappetizing as the devil himself. As they were certainly euphoric after the fight —in which only they beat— they looked for a pair of whores from the same town, and after finding two of their liking —a little plump, brown and with abundant breast— they gave peace to their crotch; and before it began to get dark they left those lands, of course, without delivering the just salary that those two women had earned.
With renewed energy, they continued their journey and toured the outskirts of Vecheperal and Fuendepocos. In Primanero they thought they had found Mario and almost killed a poor man who later turned out to be an honest swineherd who had no white strands in his hair.
In Hinojosa del Fresnedal a local told them that a man very similar to the one they were looking for caught stealing money in the square and as a punishment they feathered him, leaving him way to Oliva de Jarandilla, after giving him a strong beating with kicks and sticks in the kidneys... After knowing this, they visited more villages for a month and a half, but finally, between Newvillage from Navalhill and The Rocky Road, they could finish their search and soon collect their substantial reward. In fact, they had the man they were looking for only a few meters from the hooves of their horses.
3
Mario Toulon mentally prayed —without ever having learned any sentence in his life— so that there would be a forest beyond where he could sneak away, but the only thing that reached his view was an olive, cork or oak tree scattered among hundreds of fields planted, fertilized or in fallow.
Shortly after twisting his ankle, the floor became of worse quality to jog. The land now became freshly plowed loose soil, which greatly hindered his run, especially with his sore ankle. A fence built with sticks, mud and moss stone was found on his way. Every time he had a fence in front of him, he wondered if he was inside or outside. In any case, he always jumped, which is why on more than one occasion he had problems with the owners of the plot, with dogs and even with bulls. Now he did not worry about this matter and jumped as fast as he could. It was not a problem for the riders to get around that obstacle, a moment later. When jumping Mario Toulon lost his hat, which was soon trampled by the animal riding by Severus.
The hooves of the horses sounded closer and closer, and at the same time they crushed the earth and what they had sown. In fact, they were already on par with the persecuted.
Sabine tried to grab Mario by the scruff of the neck, but at that moment the horse took a bad step and stumbled, causing his rider to fall to the ground. Severus stopped in his tracks to calm his companion's horse, which was almost near to stepping offhandedly on its owner, as if the animal knew how low he was.
Mario Toulon continued advancing painfully, with the heart still more accelerated. The bundle, in which he carried his few belongings, weighed a hundred times more than his natural weight, and if it was not because he was holding it to his body, like a bandolier, he would have let it fall. His legs were about to explode because of the constant moaning of muscles that, despite being accustomed to exercise, were not to the intense and disproportionate discipline to which they were subjected at this time. In fact, his calves and the bodybuilding of the thighs had never been besieged by such a torture. Running was not a stranger thing to the thief, and as a young man he had done it like a cheetah, but running through that field, where his feet sank half a calf with each stride, was something very different and the double effort demanded was detracting forces to leaps and boun
ds. At any moment his lower extremities were going to say "we do not keep going", no matter how much his brain ordered, "we must continue."
Being aware of his plight, he chose to climb the first oak he found, which by the way was quite high. Due, surely, to his fear and nerves to the surface, Mario was able to climb the tree quickly and agile, despite his twisted ankle and muscles to the limit.
As soon as Sabine returned to his mount, the two riders resumed their pursuit, but at first they did not see their pursued. After a quick look at everything around them, they located Mario Toulon —who, despite his black clothes could not be mistaken for a crow— perched on the oak tree, which he foolishly thought was his salvation.
Slower, Sabine and Severus approached the tree.
“Mario Toulon Middle-Voice Rabid, I suppose?” It was the first thing Sabine said, while looking at the top of the oak.
“Who wants to know?” Mario asked, snorting like a buffalo and suffering from a terrible limp of legs that made them tremble without pause. The arms, still sober, were what held him up there.
"The little man has guts, right?” Severus recognized laughing.
“Yes. This time we were lucky.”
“I think so. It must be him.”
“I would be able to take some risks...”
“Who should I be? What do you want from me? I do not know you at all," the thief said from on high.
“Severus, have you noticed...?” Sabine pointed a finger in his hair, right where Mario Toulon had his strange white strand, at this time gray, due to dirt.
“Yes, I have. I already saw it.”
“Finally, let's finish once: Sir Higinio Lopezosa Quesada sends us.”
“I do not know any Higinio Lopezosa. You got the wrong man.”
The Kingdom of the Damned Page 11
