When Adalbert first came to the monastery he was a simple peasant boy. His family was killed in one of the raids in the area and the brothers took him in. He learned the ways of the monasteries, the faith, and because he was called a ‘clever’ boy, he was taught to read and write. He eventually accompanied Brother Wojtek to transact business in the town for the monastery. Only certain brothers were allowed to enter the town walls. At first Adalbert thought it was to keep them pure, but eventually he discovered that some of them ‘couldn’t’ go into town. When they did they became ill – some violently so, but he was safe enough to go. There was something in the town – in the town itself – that they were susceptible to.
Once in a while he would sneak out to the sacred grove that still stood near the monastery. The brothers knew that sometimes the people would be there to pay their respects to the Old Gods. The statues of the Old Gods had been thrown in the pond when the Teutonic Knights had controlled the area, but the local people did not forget Perun, as they saw the wonder that the four sided statues of his still stood upright below the surface. Sometimes, to appease the spirits, the people would come with straw effigies to appease the spirits that still lingered. Adalbert would go as well to spend time and contemplate; he did not bother them, they did not bother him. He was there on the night of Kupala, the summer solstice, when some of the young and old gathered for dancing, drinking, and loving. They lit fires and threw a bread lady in the pond. The water sprites gratefully took the sacrifice. The men and women wore crowns of flowers in their hair as they danced in circles before pairing off. He left the folk to their merriment and returned to the monastery. This spot however, was still stained. There was a blood sacrifice here and in the city center. When the Teutonic Knights first came in, they slaughtered many of the inhabitants – some were of the old Prussian faith, some were Slavs, but to the knights they were all pagans and deserved to die. The memories of those events still hung heavy in the air and the soil.
The brothers practiced martial skills for an hour twice a day, to be prepared in case the pagans or heathens attacked the monastery. It was during practice one day that the first tremor hit. After that, the talk of tremors in the area was all the brothers could speak of. The only thing that replaced such talk was when Anselmo had a vision that indicated a nexus of the Old Gods. Adalbert lit a candle in the corner with the icon of the Virgin and prepared himself for morning prayers.
*****
Adalbert was going into town with Brother Wojtek to bring manuscripts to the castellan and goods to trade with the merchants. For the most part it was business as usual; they were at the town gates with their cart when it opened and passed through after a cursory inspection. After visiting the castellan, accompanied by his fool, the monks visited the tanners with sheepskins, then set up their cart in the market and started to buy some supplies.
After their duties had been done for the day, they had some time to relax. Adalbert breathed in deeply as he looked up toward the sky, a hand held up to shield his eyes. From the position of the sun in the sky, and the traders packing up in the market, it seemed to be about noon. He smiled as he turned to Brother Wojtek.
“Peaceful, is it not, brother? Even with all that has gone on lately.”
When Wotjek did not answer, Adalbert cocked an eyebrow in his direction. He stood, still as stone, but his face was pained. Adalbert leapt to his feet as he approached the brother, and it was just in time to catch him. The man staggered as if he has been hit in the chest and toppled over into Adalbert’s arms.
“Wotjek?! Wotjek, speak to me!” Adalbert shook the man, but felt his stomach knot as he noticed the color had drained from the man’s face and his eyes had rolled back to only show the whites. He looked to the sky again, this time for a sign from God; he was terrified with what he saw. Black clouds filled the area overhead until black smothered the light.
Lightning came in bright flashes and the ground shook. At first, he could barely feel it, but with Brother Wotjek in his arms, he was thrown violently to the side; the tremors were so severe that cracks appeared in the ground where buildings toppled.
Wojtek reached out and was going to fall, but Adalbert caught him as the ground shook again. Cracks appeared in the ground in some places and several buildings toppled. He could see what appeared to be a giant wave along the river front and he could hear water splash and wash. Then there was silence; for a second or two, then the world exploded with sound. The bells of the church were ringing and people were shouting. He could hear rumbling and it seemed other parts of the town collapsed.
Adalbert felt hands on him and came back to the present as Brother Wojtek was pulling at him and talking with a strained voice. “Get back, back to the monastery. Quickly.” Then he slumped as dead weight and slowly fell to the ground despite Adalbert’s efforts to hold him up.
Brother Wojtek was a big bear of a man, muscular and hairy, so it took all of Adalbert’s strength to throw Brother Wojtek into their cart and then try to make their way out of the town. There were people in the narrow streets that made it difficult to go, until finally, he tried to carry the brother over his shoulder. That worked for a very short distance, but his muscles began to scream in agony, and he realized he could not carry the brother any longer. Several people were pointing toward the northern end of town – a purplish-green smoke was forming a cloud over the area. Other people ran by saying the earth had opened up a fissure to Hell. Adalbert was not going to be able to go much further, so he put Brother Wojtek down near a stable, avoiding the horse manure on the street and finding some clean straw. He propped Wojtek up against a support pole, but he was out of the way. Adalbert picked up a pole to keep people away, waited there, and guarded the brother in the hope he would regain consciousness.
As the day wore on and evening started to creep in, there were less people on the street in this area, but Adalbert could still see the glow of fires and that eerie smoke plume. During that time Wojtek came in and out of consciousness.
“You need to go boy.” Then drifted away only to drift back a short time later, continuing in mid-thought, “if the Gods are released some of us are susceptible to them, people in town as well as the brothers.You need to go; now.” Then he drifted out again. All Adalbert could do was keep an eye on him.
He was watching this when Wojtek let out a gasp and bolted upright, his eyes milky white and a raspy voice released from his throat.
“I thought I told you to go boy.”
“Brother Wojtek…? What has happened to you?”Adalbert crept forward but held his guard. “Are you alright, I…?”
Before Adalbert had time to react, the man was upon him. He had drool from the side of his mouth, his milky white eyes stared blankly at the boy and his nails seemed to have transformed into small talons. Wojtek got tangled up in his cassock and fell forward. Adalbert hesitated for a moment as he tried to move away from his companion; the wild look on his face sent a chill through him as he lunged forward again on hands and knees. Adalbert just turned and ran, not sure what had happened, but sure he needed to run.
He ran toward the gates as fast as he could, dodging rubble and fallen bodies strewn along the way. He dodged and darted, losing his outer robe for his hose and jerkin beneath. He felt hands were grabbing at him along the way, but he pushed them aside, not looking back until he reached the gate. It was closed, which meant that he was locked in till morning – no one left or entered the city after dark. There were no guards visible. He pounded on the door of the tower, but no one answered. He looked around when he saw a figure emerge from the far street – it was Wojtek, but he was not moving well – starting and stopping with spastic movements, but always toward the youth. Without knowing where he was going, his legs carried him onward, back into the city. He didn’t know anyone in the town other than those they traded with and he knew them only from the market. Perhaps the river would be the way to go.
Those people who were on the street had a hollow look on their faces as could be
seen from the firelight. They were huddled in small groups and made a menacing gesture if Adalbert got too close. Occasionally a scream for help or a shriek could be heard, but he never could tell from where. He kept checking if he was followed by Wojtek, but he could not see him, though the little light available made monstrous shadows appear. The closer he got to the river, the more dilapidated the buildings were, to the point where there were some caved in. Only the older buildings that dated from the early history of the town, where they were still visible, seemed to have weathered the upheaval alright.
Once he got close to the riverfront, he stopped in shock, then ran quickly again. The river was no longer at the docks, but had shifted its banks at least thirty feet away from its original location. Where the river had stood along the docks, was now mud glistening in whatever moonlight had hit on it. He saw men down there hauling small boxes up to the wharf. Tunnels were now exposed along the bank – several feet down and seemingly beneath the town. He thought he might try to make his way out along the muddy banks when a roar rose up to his right. A mob erupted from that direction and suddenly there was a battle along the riverfront as men and women armed with all sorts of knives and blunt instruments started to fight each other. He tried to flatten himself in a doorway and was sure he had seen Wojtek amongst the battlers. At one point he thought he saw the man try to bite his opponent. His face took on a macabre visage in the dancing light, dripping and pressing forward. At that moment another cry came from the opposite end of the block as the town militia started to press in. He leaned back against the door and it gave way. He fell in, but instead of floor, there was a hole that dropped down ten feet or more and he hung there in the air on the door handle with his feet flailing as if he could fly with his legs. He pushed the door back with his feet to a ledge to get his footing, then swung the door back closed. With no other option, he tried to climb down the ruins and rocks, into the tunnel.
Now, there was only moonlight to guide the way. There was an opening to the left toward the water, but that only led to chaos. There seemed to be another tunnel to the right which was dark as pitch. Behind him was more space, but he couldn’t tell if there was a pit a few steps ahead or more tunnels. A light suddenly appeared in that space twenty or so yards away in what appeared to be a gentle slope downward. The person coming toward him was holding a lamp – not bright, but projecting enough light to see ahead in a concentrated beam. The shadow made it seem to be a big person, tall as it was broad, but as it got closer, the being seemed like a young boy; but once the figure came in sight it was clearly a short man by the lines on his face and thick beard.
Almost as if the man expected him to be there, he strode purposefully toward Adalbert and came to a stop in front of him. He held a pry bar in one hand, about equal to his three foot height. In the other hand was a lantern like a miner would carry with a series of succeeding doors to expand or focus the light. He wore a black round felt cap with side flaps that were tied across the flat top. His tunic was also black, tied in the front, brown hose and ankle height boots completed his outfit. His hair and beard was carefully combed and braided with silver rings holding them in place. A battle was raging above him, but all Adalbert could hear in this tunnel were the soles of the boots on the limestone ground. The small man motioned to Adalbert to come, and without hesitation he followed him. A karzełek – a dwarf abiding in the underground – that is what he looked like. As they went back about the twenty yards he had come, there was an opening on the right. As they started into it, Adalbert turned back to see people starting to fall down the opening into the area they had just come from, and new people or creatures were coming down the opposite tunnel.
Adalbert followed the karzełek, still as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and when they turned the corner, the small man pushed a boulder along and covered the opening so that there was no seam to indicate it was there at all.
The man set the lamp in a nook in the wall and it was then that Adalbert noticed there did not seem to be a candle or wick in the lantern.
“Come,” the man motioned again, and the passageway seemed to light-up as they passed down it, then darkened. “As long as you are with me there will be light. Stay close and don’t dawdle.” His tone was annoyed as if speaking to a small child. They traveled for what seemed like an hour, but probably took less time. It seemed like there were a couple of side galleries, but they kept moving forward. They finally got to a dead end, when the dwarf opened the wall and pushed Adalbert through – leaving him in the common room of the monastery.
*****
The primate looked up from his papers in annoyance at the knock on his apartment’s doors. His secretary poked his head in hesitantly. The primate hated interruptions when he was trying to collect his thoughts like this. He motioned for the man to come in.
“Holiness, I have received these responses in the post from various magnates.” He dropped the papers on the primate’s desk and backed away.
During the interregnum when the nobles were to meet to elect the King of Poland, he was the head of state. He quickly scanned the responses and moved the papers to the side. During this interregnum he needed to make sure he reunited the crown of Poland with the Grand Duchy of Lithuania again and keep the Teutonic Knights in check. He was also following the portents from his ‘friends’ in the Abbey that there were stirrings in the void. He waved the man away again, and the secretary started shuffling toward the door, stopped, and raised his hand as if lost in thought.
“A thousand pardons, Holiness,” he turned, bowed, and pulled another note from his coat pocket, then backed away. “This came earlier from Rotmizter Robach.”
The primate’s head jerked up from his papers and grabbed at the note snarling at the cleric. “I thought I told you to let me know right away when he sent anything…” he ripped open the seal and read the report. His eyes scanned the paper quickly, then focused on certain sections. ”Damned! Damned, damned, damned!” He grabbed some paper and wrote out orders; stopped, crossed out a section, and wrote some more. He folded the note and sealed it with his ring, then handed to the scared man. “Bring this to Rotmizter Robach, now. Do not stop, do not forget, and make sure you give it to him directly.” He paused to compose himself, “And if you ever wait to give me news I will make sure you will accompany the next mission to Moscowy.”
The frightened man quickly left the room. The primate got up from his desk and went to the corner of the room with the icon of the Madonna. He crossed himself and opened the small box below that – the one for the domovoi, the ‘household spirits’ and threw a crust of wafer in there as an offering. If an opening had occurred, they would all be in trouble. No telling what the German Knights would do, or the Muscovites. There was always a bad time for a breech, but at this point in the royal election too many people would be distracted. The nature of royal politics, be it the King of Poland, Holy Roman Emperor, or Tsar meant that there were always forces at work that would try to swing the election in their favor. By getting Alexander elected King, both nations would be united under one ruler and they would be better suited to combat the Teutonic Knights, and perhaps put an end to them once and for all. Not many people knew the true history of the knights in the Baltic and the dangers they posed.
Alexander was a Grand Duke who understood the forces they were facing. While Jan Olbrach was a strong King, he also was a carouser. Alexander was more cerebral, and knew the folklore of the areas under his rule. From what the primate understood, he also had his own secret agents at play to counter moves the dark ones might take. Jan Olbrach was supposedly injured during a drunken brawl on his way around the city. In reality, the Knights had a hand in his death. The barber-surgeon who initially attended him noted small punctures on his neck, discolored from the poison that was injected in him. By the time the medical doctors had arrived it was too late. “A shame to have to kill the barber, but can’t have loose tongues gossiping.”
“I am a good and loyal servant of
the church,” the primate declared to no one in particular, “But even the church tries my patience with the people it protects.” With that he slumped in his chair, took a deep breath and started in on his correspondence again.
*****
Grandmaster von Sachsen paced back and forth in his study. At one point in their past the knights might have been ascetics, but now he liked his comfort. He moved closer to the fire to try to get warmer. He tightened the belt on his robe and tucked the tentacles back under his beard. The Grandmaster of the Teutonic Knights, Frederick Wettin von Sachsen, began to review his reports from the countryside. He nodded to himself with a smile of satisfaction. Their assassination of Jan Olbrach had bought them more time and forestalled another war. His reflection was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“My lord, this bird has just brought some correspondence from our man.” The knight-brother placed the small pieces of paper on a silver dish, then backed away.
The Grandmaster waved him away and picked up the paper to review. Reports from the castellan in Starybogow indicated that the opening would be moved forward and the old masters released. He smiled to himself and relaxed, reaching into the small box and pulled the small bird out, then quickly gobbled it down. There were some in the order who still believed they represented the Christian God, but those of the inner circle knew. They knew the old masters could be brought back. They could disrupt the guardians. With a little luck, their agents could bring them back.
City of the Gods - Starybogow Page 18
