“And what role do you play in this, Felinius?”
“I am here to ensure that negotiations remain well-received. Consider me the peacekeeper. Do you ken?”
“Ai. But what exactly are you seeking?”
“An audience with Prefect Aramon. To broker a peace deal if God wills it. You are well-versed in the etiquette of dignitaries to send messages. Are you not? “
“If Prefect Aramon wills it, if you ken.” Felinius’ eyes dart back and forth quickly, ensuring that the Sandonista is not motioning to his men for some sort of clandestine ambush. He quickly ascertains they’re not, but one can never afford to be overly sure. Just to be sure, he listens intently.
“In the meantime, feel free to enter our city. We will even offer you a guide, Tatamus, to ensure you receive the graciousness and hospitality due. Once we have received word from Aramon, we shall be in high palaver. You ken?”
Felinius bows in deference and his party does the same. “Ai. Gratitude for your graciousness. We are well met.”
“Ai. Indeed we are.” The group of Sandonistas mount their rides and disembark. The Primm Brothers, Talonius, and Jasper all let out a sigh of relief. Talonius, the elder statesman, is unable to move for several seconds because of the fact that his calves had seized up on him in his moment of escalating fear. He eventually gets his legs moving and silently says a thank you to his maker.
Felinius, calm, collected and self-assured, barely registers a reaction at all. He smiles sardonically at Talonius, mocking his cowardice.
“What ken you, Felinius? You looked into his eyes. Is he a man of hard, honest word?” asks Talonius.
“I believe that Aramis is a man of his word, but he is also a low-level enforcer who holds little sway with Prefect Aramon. I ken that we will be granted an audience with Aramon; at the very least, we have piqued his interest. He is curious,” replied Felinius matter of fact.
Jasper sighs in relief. “Well to hear such.”
“Aramon will hear our offer, but he may decide to cut us down afterward in recompense.” Felinius smiles and then laughs a deep, bellowing and maddening laugh.
The others look at each other with the same look of consternation on their faces. Talonius cramps up again at the thought of their imminent death and loses control of his bowels.
Felinius continues to laugh sardonically, enjoying their discomfort. “And it appears your bowels are as frightened as you are Statesman. Talonius face reddens at the jest. The others look at him in disgust, knowing his cowardice did not help their cause. They will pray for Prefect Aramon’s mercy or Felinius’ fighting skill.
Chapter 23: Unorthodox Therapy
Janice had never set foot in the rectory before. There would never have been a reason to. She walks into the large vestibule and is greeted by Simeon, the Curd. Townspeople are permitted inside the hall, but the vast majority of the building is off limits to civilians. The vestibule is similar to the cathedral’s vestibule with its lower vaulted ceilings, ornate frescoes of apostles in the throes of service to Christ, tending and healing the sick, feeding the poor and providing spiritual sustenance. They are warm, inviting and seem to quell her misgivings.
As she walks through the hallway, Sylvia clings to her fiercely. She reassures her with an affectionate pat on the head. “Child, take comfort. You can trust Merlin. He can help you to feel better. You will be able to sleep soundly and not be scared anymore. Would you not wish for such?”
Sylvia forces a half-hearted smile. “Ai, mama. I would wish it above all else, so I would.”
“It is good, child. As I would for you also. You must trust Merlin.”
“I do. I’m just scared tripe, so I am.”
A deep, warming sensation begins to course through them, tempering rattled nerves. They smile sheepishly at each other, content in their secret knowledge, knowing no other saw the glow. Merlin seems to materialize behind them.
“How fareth, beautiful ladies?” He asks.
“We are well met, Merlin,” responds Janice, holding out her hand to him. Sylvia, instead, runs to Merlin, hugging him fiercely. He bends down on his knee and accepts her embrace.
“Merlin, I love you,” cries Sylvia.
Merlin laughs. “Thankee child. I love you too.” Shadow, feeling left out, sticks his paw upon her shoulder affectionately and licks her face. Sylvia laughs. “Yuck, you beast.” She says as she pushes him away.
“Now Shadow,” corrects Merlin gently. Shadow removes his paw, but still nudges the girl playfully, almost knocking her off balance in the process.
“We’ve all missed our little girl.” He gets up from Sylvia’s embrace and looks at Janice. “Shall we convene in my chambers?”
Janice smiles. “Ai. Your own personal chambers?”
“Ai,” responds Merlin. “I have prepared my room for our purpose. I hope you will find it suitable.”
“I’m sure it will be more than satisfactory, Merlin. We are well-received and much in your debt.”
“It is my obligation as para- Priest to serve those in need. And my connection with you is more personal. I am obligated on more than one level. Follow me.”
They follow Merlin through the hallway, Merlin traveling at Sylvia’s side. Merlin pulls out a large silver key and opens up the door. The smell of jasmine, Chrysanthemums and vanilla-infused incense is ubiquitous. As they walk into his chamber, they are met by a large portico that twists around. As they walk through it, the ceiling descends from twenty feet to about seven, giving her a feeling of coziness, warmth, intimacy, and safety. Several murals are depicted on the walls, but Sylvia is unable to make out much detail, except for their comforting faces, which radiate warmth and benevolence.
Sylvia’s heart, which had nearly trip-hammered in her chest when she approached the rectory, now beats slowly and methodically. Merlin gestures for her to sit down on a white and pink upholstered sofa. The frame had been fashioned from Sequoia Dogwood, and the upholstery is a soft lambskin. As Sylvia sits down in the chair, her body sinks down into the mattress, perfectly encased, as if her body were made for it. Perhaps it was.
Merlin pulls out a feathered pillow and props it under her head gently, then caresses and kisses her forehead affectionately. “Janice, you may sit next to her.” Merlin gestures to a sofa next to Sylvia and Janice takes it.
Merlin stands before Sylvia. He speaks in the most comforting tone he calls forth, dropping a couple of octaves. “Sylvia, this is going to be difficult, but very necessary. Do you ken, child?”
Tears glisten in her eyes and her voice quivers. “Ai. But I trust that you will help me. I trust you more than anyone.”
“Ai.”
“Have you ever broken a bone, Sylvia?”
“Ai. Once when I was six, I fell out of a tree and broke my arm. It was broken awful bad and hurt fierce, so it did.”
“And what did the apothecary do when you broke it, sweets?”
“He broke the bone and reset it.”
“Ai. Sometimes you have to go through some pain in order to heal and feel better. You ken?”
“Ai.”
“Although this won’t be a physical pain, it is going to be very painful in other ways. I will be making you feel things that you don’t want to feel, but you must trust me. In order to heal you, I must drudge up these awful memories. Just remember that it is necessary for you to heal. You ken?”
An impossible lump forms in her throat, and she is momentarily unable to swallow. “Ai, Merlin. I’m ready.”
He touches her cheek affectionately. “Ai. You are brave. We are proud of you. Let us begin then, shall we?”
“Ai.”
“Now, watch my hand and focus on my words.” Merlin turns on a bright light in the back of the room, which darkens the rest of the room around her completely. Merlin removes a coin from his pocket so fast that her eyes are unable to track the movements. He begins to twirl it through his fingers, slowly at first, and then gradually he speeds up the process until the coin
is traveling so fast it becomes nothing more than a blur.
It appears to leave his fingers of their own accord and float through the air. She can’t take her eyes off the display. With his other hand, Merlin extracts a small metal ball which he uses in contact juggling, moving the ball across his arms in a hypnotic display. As he moves the ball over his arms, it deflects the light, creating a mesmerizing light display that shines through his fingers.
On and off the light shines, deflected by the ball, appearing to go on and off in a sequential pattern, creating pulses of light. Sylvia is now as pliable as a soft piece of clay.
“I am going to guide you now, Sylvia. Do you ken?”
“Ai.”
“I am going to take you back to the beginning when the Visi-Gauls attacked your town of Missalia. It will be very difficult to relive.”
A single tear rolls down her cheeks. “Ai. But you must.”
“Ai. I must, but if it is too painful for you, I can take you out at any time. Do you ken?”
“Ai.”
“I want you to drift back in time. To another place. Another time. Before we met. Go back to your town of Missalia, to the time right before your town was attacked.”
Sylvia drifts back to that fateful day. “What do you see, child?”
Tears stream down her cheeks. She is helpless to stop them. “My pa has kissed me and sister Adele goodbye. It will be the last time that we ever saw him, so it was.”
“And then what happens?”
“Then we start to walk into the schoolhouse, but as we are walking, we hear a gunshot.”
“And then?” asks Merlin.
The cacophonous boom disrupts the school yard, causing the children to stop dead in their tracks. There can be no mistaking what it is. It’s a gunshot. They all look around at each other, seemingly with the same thought in their mind. What’s happening?
Without even consciously realizing it, Adele picks up Sylvia in her arms and carries her, running as fast as her legs will carry her. Sylvia looks at her teacher, who tries to grab one of the small, slower students, but to no avail. A gunshot ensues shortly after, penetrating through her fragile frame, along with the child she is trying to protect. Her body flies through the air, landing in a heap near a stump, her intestines spilling out of her body, while her body sits at an impossible angle- ass over end. The small child had literally been split in two. Sylvia screams in revulsion, terror, and grief. She had known her teacher since she was five.
The distance to the double school doors seems to grow ever increasingly farther with each step. It seems an eternity before her sister reaches it. As she does, she pulls them, rushes in and chokes immediately on the noxious fumes that seep through the school house. Before she can get down to her knees in an attempt to avoid the noxious fumes, a pair of strong, calloused hands seize her and pick her up roughly.
Seconds later, a pair of hands seize Sylvia and rips her from Adele’s hands. Adele screams not to take Sylvia but to no avail. Despite Adele’s bucking, kicking and screaming, her sister is ripped from her. But unlike her sister, Sylvia is too traumatized to do or say anything. Sylvia coughs, sputters and vomits until she is out of the school room completely, finally free of the noxious fumes. And then she becomes catatonic, sitting rigidly in the aggressor’s arms, unable to comprehend and deal with the horrific situation.
The man who had taken Sylvia out of the burning school house was ordered to do so, but he has ulterior motives of his own. Once he is safely through the school house, he begins to look for a place where he can take the girl for a little while. It had been a long time indeed since he had taken up with a woman. Although he is not usually attracted to children, he feels that he is due some of the spoils of war, a reward for deed done. She is a beautiful child and she will due for the time being. God will forgive him this small indiscretion.
He espies a large patch of Mulberry trees less than two hundred yards away. He slings her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, grabbing onto her feet, mounts his horse and rides off. When he reaches the cluster of trees, he leaps off his horse with Sylvia and then lays her down in the grass. He looks around, suspicion and paranoia enveloping him. Before he loses his nerve, he pulls down his pants, anticipating the pleasure to come, his member becoming engorged.
Sylvia shivers reflexively, looking away, a single tear rolling down her cheeks. The man lays down on top of her and enters her. Her tiny, fragile hymen tears upon penetration like a tattered loincloth, eliciting screams of excruciating pain from her. After that, she is silent, tears strolling down her cheeks, until he had finished with his climactic buckling. He rises quickly, looks around suspiciously, observing several soldiers on their way to him.
Sylvia had been catatonic during the rape, but as she relives it, she screams in a high pitch, primeval tone at the moment he enters her, feeling every painful nuance as clearly as the first time. Merlin knows it is time to intervene. “Sylvia, I am here. It is Merlin. I am with you, and I am going to bring you out of your trance for a moment, but you won’t remember me doing it. Do you ken? In fact, I’m going to take this memory from you and bury it.”
Tears roll down her cheeks, but she nods. “Ai. Merlin. I ken.”
“Open your eyes and look into mine.” Sylvia complies and opens her eyes. Merlin takes off his glasses. Sylvia looks deep into his unusually luminescent and opaque eyes. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. “Look deep into my eyes and concentrate on nothing but the center.” Sylvia complies. As she looks further into his eyes, she begins to lose sense of her spatial surroundings. She seems to be floating and detached from her body. Though it should be alarming, it calms her.
Merlin continues to look hard into her eyes. As if in some trance, Merlin begins to shake involuntarily, as if his body were in the center of some earthquake. Sylvia is unaware of it, only that she seems to be floating. Blood begins to drip down Merlin’s nose, and his body continues to rack with involuntary shaking. He is unable to control it.
The rumbings that rack his body move to the furnishings. They begin to shake and shimmy. Several glass challises fall from their shelves, shattering. Janice looks around, frightened and unsure of whether she should intervene. As if reading her mind, Merlin says. “No. it’s fine Janice. Relax.” She tries to relax, even as her chair begins to shake and rock back. Just as suddenly as it started, it stops. Merlin wipes away the blood from his nose and puts a calming hand on Janice. She sighs in relief.
“I am now going to bring you out of your trance, Sylvia. And you won’t remember anything that just happened. Do you ken?”
“Ai. So I do.”
“I am going to count to five, and then you will come out of your trance. One, two, three, four five.” Merlin twirls the coin he had been using when they began the session. “Now, open your eyes, little one.”
Sylvia opens her eyes and looks around cautiously.
“Now, how do you feel little one?” asks Merlin.
“I feel better, so I do.” And it was true. Sylvia did feel better than when she came in as if some monstrous nightmare was extricated from her and put to death. Perhaps it had.
Sylvia jumps up and wraps her arms around Merlin, who responds in kind. “Thankee Merlin.”
“Ai. Gratitude for your compliance. But I have to see you again. May I?”
“Ai, Merlin.”
Merlin walks Sylvia and Janice out of the rectory. When they are outside, Janice motions to Merlin, implying that he should step aside out of earshot of Sylvia. “Was it some kind of sorcery, Merlin? Am I not to speak of such?”
“I would consider it a favor.”
She clings to him fiercely. “I am in your debt, now and forever.’’ Tears stream down her face.
Shadow nudges Sylvia and bends down his head, licking her, eliciting giggles and shouts of “Yuck” from her.
“All right Shadow. You’ve said your goodbyes. We are off. Back to the recruits.” Shadow obeys. Merlin tips his hat to Janice and
Sylvia and then leaves.
As Merlin walks through the rectory, he begins to feel his face flush with an inexplicable shame that permeates his aura. And then the throbbing pain of a massive migraine begins to seep its way into his brain. He rubs his head roughly, trying to will it away. He is partially successful, but then he begins to feel the groping hands reach for him. He instinctively lashes out violently with a jab and hits only air.
Still, the hands continue their groping, and he ignores it. He goes into his own personal gymnasium and begins to lay down several boards, takes off his shirt and punches. His first punch smashes through three half-inch boards with the force of a bayonet penetrating fragile human bone. He puts more and more boards, and with every punch, the groping hands begin to subside.
Chapter 24: Sabotaging the Contest
Germanicus looks at the dwindling number of recruits. It is difficult to believe that a year and a half ago there had been over fifteen hundred strong. Now, there are less than two hundred fifty. He had personally removed most of them.
Despite being blind and ostracized from the rest of the group, Dante had progressed in his academia, his fighting skills, his canine-handling skills and his battle prowess. He had the ability to think around corners, much like Merlin had when he was a recruit.
Germanicus only hopes that Maximus will be able to defer to Dante if and when the time comes. Maximus is tenacious beyond measure, arrogant at times, proud, possessing all the aplomb of a gifted gunslinger; and yet, he has yet to pick up a shooter. Germanicus has no doubt he will master the deadly weapon, given his skill. The boy is highly intelligent, resourceful and cunning. And yet, he has none of the refined humility and deference that Dante possesses. He still needs to learn his place here or he will be thrown out. It is inevitable. The Brotherhood will not tolerate insolence.
And then there is the predicament of Dante himself. Merlin believes the boy is destined to come to the school, that their meeting is portentous. Germanicus is beginning to believe; and yet, he has his doubts. That a man, any man, thought he could interpret the will of God borders on arrogance. It is true that Merlin is highly intelligent, even perspicacious, but even he admitted that he is not a prognosticator. He cannot foretell the future. How then can he possibly know if Dante were destined to be at this school?
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