The Last Citadel

by Kevin Ashman

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Elora, sitting up, ‘come and sit here, besides me.’

  Amber did as she was told and Elora put her arm around her.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Elora, ‘bad dreams?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Amber, ‘I just can’t stop thinking of my mother back in Bastion.’

  ‘Oh you poor thing,’ said Elora, ‘I keep forgetting you are still very young. Are you close to her?’

  Amber played along, as though she had never known her mother, it was important that this woman believed her.

  ‘Very close,’ said Amber, ‘and I’m sure she must be very worried about me.’

  ‘Another few days and you will see her again,’ said Elora comfortingly.

  ‘I know,’ said Amber, ‘it’s just that I miss her so much. Our rooms weren’t very big but every night we used to spend the last hour together before she tucked me into my bed. It seemed that no matter what our trials and tribulations of the day, when she tucked me in, I used to feel so safe and slept soundly knowing she was around.’

  Elora smiled and took Amber’s hand.

  ‘I tell you what,’ she said, ‘I know I’m no substitute for your mother, but what if I come to your room and tuck you in? Perhaps it may help you sleep.’

  ‘That would be nice,’ said Amber, secretly excited that her ruse had worked, ‘are you sure you don’t mind?’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Elora, ‘come on let’s see if we can sort this out.’

  They both stood and walked back to Amber’s room, Elora with her arm around Amber’s shoulder to offer comfort. Amber climbed into her bed and Elora tucked in the cover tightly beneath the mattress.

  ‘How does that feel?’ asked Elora.

  ‘Lovely,’ said Amber, ‘just like my mother used to do.’

  ‘That’s nice of you to say so,’ said Elora, ‘good night, Amber.’

  ‘Good night,’ replied the girl and closed her eyes in pretence of sleep, knowing fully that by now, Kenzo would have crept down the corridor, through the Sanctum and out into the courtyard. Part one of their plan had been successful and until first light, there was nothing more she could do. The rest was up to Kenzo.

  ----

  Chapter 24

  Pelosus woke from a deep sleep and reached out to light a candle, unsure what had awakened him. For a moment or so, he sat with his eyes shut, contemplating the previous day’s activities before turning to reach for his gown.

  As he turned, a tiny movement caught his eye and he called out in fright as he saw the silhouette of someone sitting in his chair across the room.

  ‘Don’t be afraid,’ said a gentle voice, ‘it’s only me.’

  Pelosus’s heart was racing. Across the room less than a few feet away, the woman of his dreams sat quietly, waiting for him to wake.

  ‘Petra,’ he gasped, ‘what are you doing here?’

  ‘I came to see you,’ she said.

  The smell of Petra’s scent was overwhelming and Pelosus realised it was this that had woken him up.

  ‘I am honoured,’ said Pelosus, ‘but it is a strange time to be visiting, don’t you think?’

  ‘I accept that the time is unfortunate,’ said Petra, ‘but I have very busy schedules and this is the only time I am free at the moment.’

  ‘Can I get you a warm brew?’ asked Pelosus.

  ‘No, I am fine,’ said Petra, ‘actually I should have woken you a while ago, but was enjoying your rhythmic breathing. I was tempted to join you but you looked so comfortable lying there, I did not want to disturb you.’

  Pelosus gulped. Every word she uttered seemed laced with promise and despite him being fully aware that this was a trait of her trade, his mind was intoxicated with the hints of wonders to come.

  ‘You should have,’ he said before he had chance to stop himself. ‘Sorry,’ he added quickly, ‘I didn’t mean to…’

  ‘It’s okay, Pelosus,’ she said, ‘it is understandable and soon there will be all the time in the world to share our dreams. In the meantime we have an arrangement and I came here to see if there have been any developments.’

  ‘Not much,’ stuttered Pelosus, standing up to don his robe, ‘I have managed to decipher the embroidery, but it doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘You have found the message?’ asked Petra, a hint of excitement to her voice, ‘show me.’

  ‘Allow me to light some candles,’ said Pelosus and a few minutes later the room was alive with dancing candlelight. The Stargazer retrieved the handkerchief from a shelf and spread it out on the table top before pulling up a chair to explain what he had found.

  ‘This embroidery hides letters within its thorns,’ he said, ‘they are very few and make out a simple sentence.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Beware the Brotherhood.’

  ‘And do you know what it means?’ she asked.

  ‘No, not yet, I have been busy on other assignments, but I should have time to research more today.’

  ‘Pelosus,’ said Petra, placing one of her gentle hands on his, ‘I cannot lie, I am a little disappointed. I thought you would have more information than this for me.’

  ‘I am sorry, your Excellency,’ he said, ‘but with the command of the guard, the rationing of the food and the exploration of the second city, I have had no time to spend on this. I will try harder.’

  Petra sat up straight, her hand leaving his abruptly.

  ‘Exploration of the second city?’ she asked, ‘on whose command?’

  ‘On the orders of Helzac himself,’ he answered, ‘but I thought you knew.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Petra quickly, ‘he did mention it actually, how foolish of me to forget.’ Her hand returned to his and a wonderful shiver ran up his spine as she rubbed it gently.

  ‘Remind me,’ she said, her tone now soft and gentle again, ‘what exactly were you looking for?’

  ‘Anything, really,’ said Pelosus, ‘especially any information about who lived down there and how they lived. It would seem obvious that whoever they were, they existed before the waters rose and if there are any clues as to why that happened, then there may be indications as to the cause and therefore, perhaps the cure.’

  ‘And did you find anything?’

  Pelosus thought quickly. This was a terrible position to be in. Two of the most powerful people in the Citadel were using him to their own ends and both had sworn him to secrecy. If either found out he had betrayed their confidence, then he would be dead within hours, the victim of an assassin’s blade. He looked down at his lap, thinking furiously as to what to do when suddenly the most unexpected thing happened. Petra placed her hand under his chin and lifted his head. For a second she gazed into his eyes and before he could say anything, kissed him gently on the lips, lingering for a few seconds before breaking away. Pelosus’s mind was spinning and all thoughts of secrecy had flown.

  ‘Pelosus,’ she said, gently caressing his cheek, ‘I know this is difficult, but there is a chance that we both have a future together. Once the safety of our people is guaranteed, I will have more time to spend with you and we can plan how we are to spend the rest of our days together. But until then, we have to be completely open and honest with each other and hold no secrets. I understand that Helzac may have sworn you to silence, but this is more important than life itself. Now, why don’t you tell me what you know?’

  For the next half an hour, Pelosus relayed what he had found in the second city, withholding only the part about Helzac’s paintings. Finally, he sat back and they both stared at each other as the dawn light crept through the windows.

  ‘So, does he believe you?’ asked Petra.

  ‘Hard to say,’ said Pelosus, ‘though he is certainly sceptical.’

  ‘And did you find out anything about this Brotherhood?’

  ‘No, sorry.’

  ‘Not to worry,’ she said, ‘what you have told me is very interesting and may sway which way our decisions fall. Pelosus, there is one great secret of
this Citadel that you need to know, yet I hesitate to share with you as should certain people find out, then we would all surely perish.’

  ‘I thought you said no secrets?’ said Pelosus.

  ‘I did, and intend to keep that vow, but just give me a few more days, then I will tell you everything I know. Can you do that?’ Once more, her hand sought his cheek and his eyes closed at the gentleness of the cool touch.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘no problem.’

  ‘Good,’ said Petra, ‘now, could you bring me a glass of water, please, I am a bit thirsty.’

  Pelosus rose and took a beaker to the side room where he kept the flasks of water.

  When he returned there was no sign of Petra but a short note was left on the table where she had been sitting.

  ‘Pelosus. Sorry I had to leave so suddenly, but I just remembered something important. I will see you soon. All my love, xxx’

  The Stargazer picked up the letter and held it to his nose. It smelled of her perfume and his eyes closed once more at the memory of her presence.

  For the best part of an hour, he sat at the table studying the handkerchief, often returning to his shelves of scrolls as ideas came to him, but always fruitless in his search for explanation. The one thing that came back to him over and over again, was the statement made by Petra that there was one great secret that she couldn’t share with him yet. Perhaps if he had this secret, the message would become clear and it made no sense to hold on to it for a few more days. His life was already in danger, in fact, everyone’s were, and a few more days may be the difference between life and death for hundreds of people. He needed to know what it was that Petra was hiding and if she felt anything toward him; then surely she would forgive him this indiscretion. He would follow her into the tunnels and ask her for the information.

  He unlocked the double lock securing the frame to the wall and followed the Governess through the hidden panel.

  The tiny tunnel spiralled downwards into the depths of the city, passing dozens of similar side tunnels on the way. Though he was intrigued about what was at the end of each one, he stayed on the main route, finally emerging into the seawater chamber Amber had discovered weeks earlier. He stared down into the depths, but unlike Amber, could see no water, just a seemingly bottomless dark pit.

  Pelosus walked slowly around the ledge looking for any sign that would tell him which way Petra had gone. The answer came rather quickly as the beautiful smell of the Governess’s unique perfume wafted out of one of the tunnels and he entered immediately, absolutely certain he was going in the right direction. Once again, he ignored dozens of side passages and within minutes, came across a solid wooden door blocking his way.

  ‘Haven’t come all this way to stop now,’ he thought, and turning the iron ring, opened the door to step inside.

  ----

  After the dark and damp tunnel, the light and warmth of the room was a welcome surprise. At its centre, a fire sent dancing light around the room and Pelosus stopped dead in his tracks as he absorbed the astonishing sight before him. All around the room, filling every inch of wall space, thousands upon thousands of scrolls sat snugly within their purpose-made alcoves.

  ‘By the fingers of the Saint,’ he whispered coarsely, ‘I can’t believe it.’ He made his way over to the nearest wall and ran his hands over dozens of scrolls, talking to himself as he went. ‘All this time, and this room was below my very feet.’

  He heard a noise and spun around in fear. Across the room, a man was sitting at a table, his back toward him, yet obviously aware of his presence.

  ‘Who is there?’ asked the seated man without turning around.

  ‘I am a friend,’ said Pelosus nervously.

  ‘You should not be here,’ said the man, ‘you are putting yourself in great danger.’ He rose to his feet and turned slowly from the table to face him. Pelosus couldn’t make out his features in the gloom, but could see that he was dressed in a long robe of dirty cloth, secured around the waist with a simple length of rope. His head was clean-shaven and he was obviously very advanced in years. For what seemed an age, nobody spoke as they stared across the flames at each other, but eventually the man spoke again, his voice, quiet and gentle.

  ‘Who are you?’ he asked.

  ‘My name is Pelosus,’ he replied, ‘and I am…’

  ‘The Stargazer,’ said the man, ‘I know of you. My name is Warden and I am the keeper of the scrolls. Please state your business, as this place is forbidden to citizens on pain of death. Quickly or I will call the guards.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ said Pelosus, ‘I didn’t know, but please don’t call the guards, for I mean no harm. I only seek information.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About this whole situation.’

  ‘You mean the disappearing sea?’

  ‘Mainly that,’ said Pelosus, ‘though I am also interested about the Brotherhood of the Sark.’

  The man gasped and caught his breath as he stumbled back against the wall. A coughing fit followed and his face grimaced in pain as he slid down the wall clutching his chest.

  ‘Are you okay?’ shouted Pelosus and without waiting for a reply, ran forward to help.

  ‘Please,’ gasped the man, 'my medicine.’

  Pelosus turned to the table. In amongst the various scrolls there was a jug of water, a drinking beaker and a small bottle.

  ‘Three drops,’ said the man between coughs, ‘in a beaker of water.’

  Pelosus filled the beaker from the jug, and carefully allowed three drops of a thick green liquid to mix with the water. He handed it over to Warden who gulped it down as quickly as possible. Gradually his breathing slowed and he managed to sit upright.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘I’m sorry about that. My heart isn’t what it used to be and any shock can bring on the coughing.’

  ‘What is this stuff?’ asked Pelosus sniffing at the bottle, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

  ‘Careful with that,’ said Warden, ‘in tiny doses it is a strong narcotic. It eases the muscles and stops the spasms, but any more than that can kill a man. Please help me up. When he was on his feet he turned to look directly at Pelosus who took a step backwards in shock as the fire light illuminated the old man’s face.

  ----

  Pelosus stared at the wound where the man’s eyes should be. Not only was he obviously blind, but the angry horizontal scar straight across his face was evidence that they had been burnt out with a red hot bar.

  ‘My god,’ said Pelosus, ‘what happened to you?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I do not understand,’ said the gentle voice, his head tilting slightly.

  ‘Your eyes, what happened to them?’

  ‘Oh, of course, forgive me. I am so used to the situation I forget that it is not the norm. My eyes were taken as a young boy as punishment.’

  ‘Punishment for what?’ asked Pelosus in disgust.

  ‘For being curious,’ said Warden.’

  ‘What did you do?’ asked the Stargazer.

  The old man took a deep sigh as he remembered.

  ‘I was caught spying on a Courtesan when she was being intimate with a client,’ he said, ‘and before you say anything, I know this is probably the favourite pastime of most young boys on Moon-day, but this lady was the Governess herself and her client was a well-known councillor with a family.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Pelosus.

  ‘You wouldn’t know him,’ said Warden, ‘it was a long time ago. Suffice to say I was lucky to escape with my life. If it wasn’t for the kindness of the Governess, I would have been thrown from the city walls. As it was, she managed to calm him down and get him to agree to a commuted sentence. My eyes and a lifetime spent incarcerated in these rooms is the price I paid for my indiscretion.’

  ‘That’s awful,’ said Pelosus. ‘Have you been down here all this time?’

  ‘It’s not so bad,’ said Warden, ‘the first thirty years were the worst, but now I quite enjoy it. It’s warm, safe an
d I have enough food to eat. I know every inch of this library and ensure the scrolls are kept in excellent condition.’

  ‘How can you do that?’ asked Pelosus, ‘I mean, you can’t see them, can you?’

  ‘Trust me,’ said Warden, ‘when you have been here as long as I have, you get to know every scroll intimately. There are ten thousand, seven hundred and sixty three scrolls in this room. Each day I remove over a hundred, unroll them and check for signs of decay.’

  ‘But how?’ asked Pelosus.

  ‘By feeling the texture,’ said Warden, ‘by smelling for damp, by tasting for mould, by listening to the way they unravel. When you have been without sight for as long as I have, your other senses compensate. I may not have eyes, Stargazer, but I have a far clearer picture of what this room contains than you do.’

  ‘And what if you find damage?’ asked Pelosus.

  ‘Sometimes there is nothing I can do,’ said Warden. ‘Age catches up with everything so when the scrolls reach the end of their life, they give me a child who can’t read, and they copy out the characters onto new parchment without understanding what they write.’

  ‘Why would they do that?’ asked Pelosus.

  ‘So I can never learn their secrets, I suppose,’ said Warden. ‘If the children could read, they could pass on the information to me and information is power.’

  ‘Do you know how old they are?’ asked Pelosus,

  ‘Not exactly, though there is one where the original scribe seems to have pressed too hard with his quill and the date can be made out by my fingers. It is dated over seven thousand years ago, but it is no way the oldest. In fact, it lies in this half of the room, all those behind you are much, much older.’

  ‘This is tragic,’ said Pelosus, ‘to be surrounded by so much information yet not be able to read it. It must tear you apart.’

  ‘It used to,’ said Warden ‘but time heals everything.’

  ‘Who are they?’ asked Pelosus.

  ‘Sorry?’ asked Warden.

  ‘You said they give you an illiterate child. Who is it that controls these archives and subjects you to this lifetime of torture?’