Dark Age (23 page)

Be bound by the
sound

Come ‘round, come ‘round…”

The clock tower above the Mount struck seven, absorbing the voices in its long resonating chimes.

Katrina held my hand tight. It felt as if I had never left. Once inside the Craftsman District, more and more men and women recognized and greeted me. Time had changed us all; on the outside at least. Most had aged, but personalities seemed untouched. A strange feeling arose in me whenever I encountered new faces. For every person that recognized me, I found a handful of citizens I had never seen before. Some of those were young men and women that had been small children when I had left; others were older than me and had finished their service during my absence. From far I caught sight of Jacob, my former camp leader in the woods that had worked with Yorick to imprison me. He was lingering on the square in between the stalls. The moment he noticed me, his eyes were locked upon me, half surprised and half resentful. I only looked away for a second, but the next he was gone.

The carpentry had not changed aside from a few added details. Captured by nostalgia, my hands wandered over the artsy walls Eric and me had redone years ago, while Katrina knocked on the door for her father to open up. Eric immediately threw open the door looking like the day I had left with his short grey hair. He glowed of happiness and welcomed us inside the house, holding me by the shoulder like a proud father.

“I’ve missed you boy,” he said and invited me to sit down. “I’ve made a little investment and bought some fine fresh lamb meat. I remember how much you loved the lamb cutlets at the Inquisitor’s feast.”

“You shouldn’t have,” I said. “I haven’t exactly been spoiled with food the last years. Anything would have been perfect. Just being with you two right now, after all that has happened, makes any dinner the best of my life.”

“You’ve always been humble. What can I get you to drink?” he asked.

I wanted to get up to fetch the drink myself, but immediately fell back down in pain after putting too much weight on my left leg.

“Be careful,” Eric said pointing at my leg, “The days of being the man for everything are over, you need to allow yourself to settle and accept other people’s help. Anyhow, I think a glass of wine is just right for this occasion.”

He poured an inch of red liquid from a dark bottle into my glass and served himself some. Katrina set a bowl of steaming skinned potatoes next to the lamb cutlets and sat down at my side. Eric raised his glass, “To you, Adam. Welcome back to the family.”

The bittersweet drink went down my throat in sips and warmed me from the inside. I bit into a juicy cutlet, inhaling the delicious smell of roasted meat. Perfectly salted and spiced, it made my mouth water for more the moment I had finished.

Eric refilled my glass, “Before I ask you about anything you don’t want to talk about, know that I have been where you have been. If you don’t want to talk about what happened, don’t. But if you feel comfortable, maybe you can share with us some of your experiences.”

I put down my silverware and pushed the finished plate to the side. Leaning back in my chair, I looked into the air considering my answer, “Sooner or later I will have the urge to tell someone what happened. Out of all the people, I trust you two the most, so I will tell you everything. My years in the Guard have been vastly different from what most men experienced.” I paused taking another sip from my wine. “I’ve worked with the first commander, learned about our lost past, befriended the enemy, nearly brought peace, spent a year in prison, gone mad for two years after losing my friends, worked in the woods and the mines, and nearly escaped the valley, only to lose my leg to the new commander that wanted me dead all along. The things you have heard and will hear about how I came to reenter the city are neither the truth nor remotely close to what really happened. I will tell you about everything, but you may never tell a soul.”

They listened closely, interrupting not once as I recounted the many events that had taken place over the past eight years. Their eyes grew wider as I told them about Winston Smith’s diary. Expressions changed from disbelieve, to excitement, to compassion. Only then did I realize how much I really had experienced.

As I concluded at the events in the mine few nights ago, Eric asked me slightly concerned, “What will you do with this knowledge? If played well it could topple the Inquisition.”

“I have thought a lot about that,” I said and took Katrina’s hand, “but right now it is of no importance to me. There is no need for fighting the Inquisition. I have all that I want, and for the first time I am happy right where I am.”

His smile intermingled with a frown, “While I believe that there is a need of your knowledge for the greater good, I am happy for you. You deserve a break after all this time.” He rose from his seat and removed the dishes from the table while we continued with our talk. Once the table had been cleaned he walked to the entrance of the house and retrieved his coat, “It’s a little past 9 o’clock. I am heading out for a stroll and leave you two alone. I’ll be back at curfew.”

We nodded, saying goodbye, while our eyes were glued on another.

The moment the door fell shut Katrina and I shot forward in our seats and kissed, consumed by longing passion. She held my face tight in between her hands, all the while her fingers gently brushed over my skin. With my right arm I pulled her body closer upon mine, increasing the heat that radiated from each of us. My heart pounded faster. I played and pulled on her hair, whereupon she drew closer and sat upon my lab facing me. With cane in one hand and her in the other I pushed myself up and laid her on the table. After a few kisses, she rose and took me to her room.

Chapter 31

N
oon had come
by the time I awoke. Katrina was still at my side, peacefully sleeping with her head pressed against my chest. For a while I watched her sleep, cherishing every second. I had seen what life could be like, witnessed the darkest depths, to never again take something for granted. Gently I brushed my fingers over her forehead, waking her softly.

At first she wanted to grumble at Eric for waking her, but smiled the moment she realized it was me. “Good morning handsome,” she said sitting up.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked.

“Better than I ever have,” she responded and took my hand. We reflected upon the moment silently, while playing with another’s fingers. She looked at me at last, “I am glad I waited for you,” she said. “So much has happened, but we are still the same. Life has never really changed.”

Despite my rather overwhelming past years, I saw what she meant, “I guess you are right.” In the city, the routines never changed. Church and God were always part of one’s day, and work was the same from the moment you were born with a last name signifying your craft till the day you died. “If you go back to work today, maybe I can come with you. There are many people I need to see and catch up with.”

After breakfast we headed out to get wood for the workshop. Like always we brought a basket of food with us to provide something to eat to any hungry children crossing our way.

The lumber mill was still the same old ruin with its top slightly tilted, as if it were to collapse any second. We knocked on the door, and out came the old man that had answered the door every time. Only this time I knew him and his family better than ever before.

“What ya need today?” he asked as he let us in, while one of his younger sons fetched some samples. He seemed to be sixteen, maybe seventeen. Even if I had not known that he was Nigel’s brother, I would have recognized him by his face in an instant.

“Thank you Todd,” I said as he handed the samples to me.

Puzzled he looked at me, “Do I know ya?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve heard a lot about you; you all to be exact,” I said. “I happened to be close friends with Nigel during the Guard.”

The moment I dropped his name, everyone turned silent and looked to the floor. A woman in the back of the room started sobbing. She appeared a few years younger than me. When I looked closer I saw a little boy holding her knee. His curly mane and mischievous look were unmistakable. He was Nigel’s son; a son he had never known about.

The air grew tense. I did not know what to say, so I kept it short, “He loved you all very much. Family was the most important thing to him.” My words only saddened the family even further. I grabbed into the basket and put a loaf of bread on a table, “I am sorry for bringing him up. Go ahead and have a good meal tonight. Remember him well.”

Once the wood was back in the workshop, we decided to pay Robert a visit in the smelter. A little boy with deep blue eyes opened the door, welcoming us to a cloud of steam and heat.

“Can we see your father?” Katrina asked in a high pitched voice, adoring the little boy.

He nodded and ran off. “Papa,” he repeatedly yelled, “Papa!”

The noise inside the house ceased. “What is it Seth?” Robert asked.

“Katrina and a man with a stick are here,” he answered.

Before we could count to ten Robert stood in the door, cleaning his blackened hands with a towel. “That can’t be,” he said looking at me with a wide grin. “You’ve become a real man these past years. Look at that beard. Boy, you have changed since you left.” He looked me up and down, stopping at my leg, “I am sorry about what happened. But it might have saved your life. Some die just months before finishing service, you know.”

“I’ll live with it. All that matters is that I am here now. Back home,” I said. “Talking about growing up and changing, are you Seth?” I asked the boy.

Hiding behind his father’s leg he nodded, mistrusting me like a stranger.

“I’ve held you in my arms the day you were born. You weren’t even half the size you are now. I can’t believe that all this happened while I was gone.”

One of Robert’s sons called from inside for their father. “Well,” he said, “I have to go back inside, they need me. We should talk with a little more time this week.” As he turned away to leave he looked at Katrina, “Don’t forget about tonight, I am counting on you.”

After he vanished into the smelter, Seth stayed in the doorframe for a moment observing us.

“What can’t you forget” I asked suspiciously.

“Oh nothing, he just needs my help with something.”

“Don’t tell me you have been continuing the break-ins.”

“Of course we have,” Katrina said, “food does not pay for itself. Robert and many others need the money.”

“Please stop it; I don’t want to risk our safety anymore. I have earned some money over the years in the Guard. You can have it all, just don’t leave.”

“There is no risk. I have been doing this for over ten years now. I am going tonight, and will be right back with you before you know it. You know that there has to be someone to look after the poor.”

“I just have a bad feeling about tonight. I mean, I just got here,” I said becoming more flustered by the surprise.

“Nothing will happen,” she said. “Let’s go to the square and enjoy our time instead of arguing about tonight.”

I gave up the fight and went with her down to the square. The market was bustling and crowded with people and stands. Merchants were making deals with customers; Artists danced or sang songs for a few coins; kids ran through the crowds playing catch.

“Look,” Katrina said and drew me to a hat stand. She grabbed a large round pink hat and put it on. Posing like she were the wife of an important merchant she walked around the stand with her chin up high, cheeks sucked in, and eyebrows raised. I took a three cornered hat, and played along. For a while we role-played and lived in the shoes of a rich powerful couple. Strangers that did not know or recognize us eagerly listened to our made up stories.

After a while when our audience blocked the stand, the merchant chased us away. The afternoon passed aimlessly like that. Together we relived the memories of our past and entertained ourselves just like we did before I had left.

It was almost six when Katrina left me to finish up some work. Alone I continued my stroll across the square until I spotted Stephan’s parents. To my left stood the mason and his wife talking to a merchant at a stand. I tried to avoid them, but was noticed the moment I turned away.

“Adam?” the mason asked.

I put on a surprised face and approached him, “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“I am so glad you survived those horrors,” he said. “I heard that you and Stephan became close friends in the Guard, is that true?”

I clenched my teeth and looked to the ground for a moment. When I looked back up at him my put on smile had returned.

“Stephan was a loyal friend, one of the most trustworthy men I have ever met,” I responded.

“How did he die?” he asked.

The images of Stephan ramming his blade through my side flashed into my mind.

“He died heroically in battle, sir,” I responded. “He had already killed many of the brutes, but there were just too many. If it were not for him, I might have died.”

The parents, proud but heartbroken, smiled. “Thank you Adam,” they said and walked away with teary eyes.

There was no need for the truth, I had decided. It would only create more questions and hurt the mason and his wife after already losing their son.

There was only one family I had left to meet. I approached the barbershop slowly, watching the barber at his work on a customer. The moment he caught a glimpse of me he rose, leaving his work behind to embrace me.

“I am so happy to see you well and alive,” he said.

A lump formed in my throat, as I said what I had wanted to say to him for years, “I am sorry for what happened with Peter. We fought together against those Monsters. I tried to safe him but…”

“It’s okay Adam,” Peter’s father said with his hands on my shoulders. “I hold no grudge against you. I know how close you two were. He is watching us right now and smiling down upon you.”

For the first time the subliminal guilt that rested on my heart from failing to save Peter was lifted and an ease overtook my mind.

“Let’s go I don’t have all day,” the customer yelled at Peter’s father.

“Thank you,” I whispered as he gave me a firm handshake.

“I see part of him in you,” he said with a glimmer in his eyes and departed.

On my way back to the carpentry, I passed by a house I had nearly forgotten: my home. The blacksmith shop stood silently at the side of the street, stripped off life and sound. I looked at it from the outside, considering going in. Too many unresolved conflicts, memories, and pains still lay in there that needed to be put to rest. Since I awoke in the mansion, I had suppressed the reality of my parents’ suicide. It was time to accept it.

I walked to the door and retrieved the spare key from underneath a bucket of withering flowers. Unlocking the door, I turned the knob and pushed the wooden door wide open. A prickling feeling ran over my arms, as I was welcomed to a breeze of cold air along with the bitter creaking of the door.

The living room seemed untouched. A bowl of apples still stood on the counter in the entrance. It showed how recent everything was. My parents died maybe a week ago, not even long enough for the fruits to foul.

Standing in the door I saw old events replay in my mind. Once we sat at breakfast with seven. Seven! It was right before Bennet and Collin left for the Guard. Elias sat to my right, and a younger brother to my left. He died shortly after like many others due to the seasonal flue. It was a time when my parents were still happy and proud. One after another the ghostly appearances vanished from the table until only I was seated there; the last living Blacksmith.

I left the living room behind me and entered the adjacent kitchen. Two hooks were still in the ceiling where my parents had hung themselves. With every second that I stared at the hooks, discomfort rose within me. It felt too unreal to picture, yet too frightening to stay around for too long. I did not want to see any more signs of death, for I had seen too many of them in my young life, and so I ducked into my room.

The bed had its sheets nicely tugged in at the sides. Everything seemed fairly empty and void, since I had taken the few things of meaning with me to the Guard. A few books remained on my desk. Many of them had originated from classes with Cecilia. One of the rather valuable copies was a collection of the complete works of Shakespeare. A pencil lay inside. Carefully I opened the cover and found the place I had stopped in the middle of
Henry VI.
A passage was underlined and a large exclamation mark stood at its side.

“Ignorance is the curse of God; knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to
heaven.”

I immediately shut the book, noticing my wish to topple the Inquisition resurface. There was little to gain, for now I felt like I had all I ever wanted. Ironically I had less than I had throughout most of my life. Life is defined by the meaning we give to the events that surround our story, and for once my perspective began to lighten up. Before I moved to the next room I stowed the books into my pouch.

The workshop was quiet. Many tools rested on the table as if my father had left for just a minute to fetch something from the kitchen. I saw myself work with him, that night when he first opened himself up to me. When all the memories fainted, I felt relieved and clear. It gave me peace to be back home and reunite with my past, but I knew that I must never return to this house.

I left the house when the sun had already set. The streetlights gave me guidance as I made my way towards the
carpentry.

Katrina and Eric sat around the fireplace going through the heist step by step. I silently joined them, listening absentmindedly to their conversation.