CHAPTER TWO
The streets were alive with people vending their goods.
The mid-morning was always the busiest time of the day in Pomperaque, and should it have been anything else? Afterall, this city had been the capital of Phoride for some five hundred years. The routine had always been the same. At sunrise the people brought their goods out into the major streets, where they bought and sold amongst one another. When noon-time came around they all gathered their things together and returned to their homes and rarely, if ever, emerged again until the evening when they made their way to the taverns and theatres.
But even in the evening the city wasn't as alive as it was during mid-morning. This was a time when people spoke to one another and laughed at little humours that they created and therefore strengthened the social bonds between themselves. Men drank and talked at the cafes while their women stayed by the stands and kiosks, exchanging goods and talking also.
Sometimes someone came along and bought something with gold bits, which was surprising and not very common, since the usual manner that the people carried on their business was in barter and in copper. However, the attainment of gold was short-lived.
Every day at noon, one of the ArchBishop's tax clerics went amongst those who received gold and exchanged it for copper bits. Usually, the exchange wasn't just or fair. The town's people were most often given two bits of copper for every one bit of gold. Rarely they received five bits to one of gold: that was a great achievement in everyone's eyes if someone were capable of bringing it about. This was dangerous, however. If someone haggled for anything over five bits of copper to one of gold, they were threatened with Divine Punishment — for their sin of greed — unless they payed a fine, which always equalled the exact number of gold bits that the merchant possessed. Thus was the usual mode of business and economics for Pomperaque, and the rest of Phoride. All this was the common practice of the surrounding provinces, and kingdoms; which the ArchBishop directly influenced.
It was one such morning that Dearborne went out into the streets with Boy, to do her marketing. It was the third day of the week and not the second day, which she usually took to do her marketing, and everyone was happy and pleased to see her because they all thought that something bad had happened to her. The merchants weren't prepared for her absence on the second day and all of them questioned her for a reason why she missed her usual day. She just smiled and told them that she wanted to be with her husband, and they sent their heat-warming greeting to him.
For the thirteen years that she had been married to Lord Brook, she always marketed on the second and fifth days of the week. The sudden change in her market day created a great stir in the hearts of the people. Now that they could see that she was well, they rejoiced and treated her with sweets and fruits, and gave her things to take to their Lord and sovereign, Brook Scullion Blue.
Like every day, the streets were filled with people. Their goods were spread about the ground on blankets, or on top of carts, or set on and around the kiosks in the city square.
Dearborne and Boy made their way down the street towards the square, which was the liveliest part of town during any time of the day. It was here where the best produce and meats were to be found during the morning market hours. It was here that the highest quality foodstuffs were brought in from every part of Phoride and elsewhere.
Also, in the city square, jewellery and fine garments were sold and there were amusements for the people. There were games and story-tellers, and machines were there to thrill the children. All these amusements carried-on throughout the entire day and night.
Boy carried a large basket and was slightly ahead of Dearborne. They both walked slowly and looked around the different stands, at the various things of interest.
Dearborne smiled her greetings at some council men that sat at tables outside the café. Business carried on in its usual manner, the sounds of livelihood resounded throughout the streets and into the other regions of the city, out towards the Hill People, who were the free farmers of Phoride. There was some kind of commotion down the street but it didn't appear to be any different than usual to Dearborne, and she paid little attention to anything but her own thoughts, anyway.
She had never known about the holocaust that had occurred over a millennia ago. She had known that something cataclysmic happened but no one could ever find out the whole story because it was a taboo topic, according to the written Laws of Canon; which denied any kind of knowledge about the past.
She was confused by the Canon's Law, which said the past was a disillusionment. Afterall, there were history books and subjects at the Blaisaman, right here in Pomperaque. The Blaisaman had, at one time, been one of the largest learning institutions of its kind, anywhere on the Northern Continent. This was the very place that Dearborne and many other "Prominents" completed their studies. She remembered the extensive teachings of history and how it had influenced and changed life in Phoride. Only now, four years after she had received her Darmaclust, she realised that even in the highest levels of study, no one knew, or at least there was no one who would disclose their knowledge, about the history prior to a thousand years ago.
She never questioned why this was so at the time and apparently, no one else questioned it either. She hadn't realised that there was no written or taught history, concerning that period before the officially declared beginning of the world. The only stories that were told to the scholars, about the before-time, was that there was a fiery chaos in the cosmos, before the Almighty created the world and its first earthly family. But anything that was taught to the student-scholars, even concerning this, was very limited. Still, there were no questions.
Dearborne couldn't believe that anyone, not even she, thought to pursue the topic any further than that which was told to them.
She came out of her thoughts for a moment when she noticed that Boy had wandered-off somewhere and without her permission.
She reconnoitred the square; the different stalls and the kiosks then saw him standing with some pretty town's-girl, of the same age. Both watched some dark-skinned woman, with golden hair and sapphire-like eyes, levitate herself and many other weird things, including some of the audience, on the fringes of the stage.
About to call on him, she heard some quick steps behind her and a familiar voice that calling her name.
"Lady Dearborne! Good morning, my sweet friend." said the voice.
She turned quickly to the caller and smiled as he reached her, and kissed her hand.
"Miel, my dear friend, how are you?" she asked him in a surprised and happy manner.
"I am fine. My wife is well, too! She just birthed our twelfth child a son!" he beamed with pride.
"My, my! You do keep yourself active!"
"Yes! That is why I could not answer the invitation to your anniversary celebration."
"You are coming, are you not?"
"Oh, yes! Of course, I'm coming. I wouldn't miss it for anything." he assured her.
"And Aria?
"I don't know yet. She doesn't recover from child baring as quickly as she had at one time. Nevertheless, I will be there."
"Well, thankyou … Brook and I shall watch for you!"
"Goodbyes till then!" he exalted, then after he kissed her hand again, he walked off in the direction of the café, and shouted greetings to some men sitting at the nearest table.
Dearborne turned and called to Boy. He glanced over his shoulder to see her waving him in with her hand. He motioned to the girl to stay where she was and ran over to Dearborne.
They strolled over to Empal; the biggest seller of fruits and vegetables, herbs and spices, known on the face of the continent, and perhaps in the whole world.
He greeted her and Boy with the usual good-hearted smile, and warm hello. Then as always, in his brawny Virunese accent he asked about Brook, his favourite Lord, while he slowly filled Dearborne's basket with the best of his produce. In turn, Dearborne asked about his family — his daughter in particular, and unobserved slipped several gold bits into his hand when they shook.
Dearborne wasn't the only one of the nobility to do this. Many others had done it, as well. Not because of pity or any such sympathies but rather s a show of respect for his strength and his odd position in their society.
Everyone in Phoride, except for the ArchBishop and his train of followers, admired his position against the ArchBishop when he was requested for Gaena, his daughter, to bare the child of "The Almighty". He refused to allow his daughter's virginity to be taken by anyone other than a mountain tribesman and so immediately arranged a wedding to take place between her and her betrothed love, Tucker. Tucker was a Krolalin Mountain goat-herder.
Although everyone overpaid Empal for his services, he was forced into near poverty when he dared to live in Pomperaque or anywhere else in Phoride, for any lengthy period of time. This was caused by his obstinacy towards the ArchBishop. In the beginning, after a few months of hardship he returned to Exendria, the capital of Virune. He rebuilt his fortune, and later returned to Pomperaque. Since then, he had kept to a cycle of return to Exendria. Like a migratory bird, he headed North every summer then returned to Lower Phoride in the winter.
Even though extensive and constant travel was difficult on most people, it didn't seem to affect Empal in a very harsh way. In fact, he soon came to enjoy his cycled migration because he made a greater fortune selling his produce during his travel than he did selling in either Pomperaque or Exendria, combined. Now, in his seventh cycle, he had accumulated more wealth than what the ArchBishop could dream of taking away from him; in fines, taxes, licenses or tariffs. Brook had dared to veto the ArchBishop's plan for all merchants, farmers and artisans to pay a monthly tribute to the church, to encourage the building of roads, buildings and the like.
Brook knew that no buildings would ever come out of the plan and that it was just another one of the ArchBishop's ploys to keep the people of Phoride poor and ignorant. His veto helped all the working class people in the land and also greatly boosted the economic strength of Phoride. He made it the wealthiest and most powerful land on the Northern Continent. And all of this was begun by the will of a simple old man, who chanced his standing up to the ArchBishop's tyrannical order of life.
Dearborne and Empal said their farewells and he asked her if she will be back on the fifth day, as usual, but she shrugged unknowingly and smiled a good-bye at him.
Boy carried the basket for a while until Dearborne saw that he occasionally looked back to where the town's-girl stood, waiting for him to return to her. Being a kindly woman, she took the basket from him and let him go to the girl, telling Boy that she would not need him for a while.
She was pleased to see Boy and the innocense of childhood that he, and all those like him, possessed. Their's was the future. This, she understood through her husband's guidance. She knew that it was the responsibility of the Elders to prepare a secure and stable life for their children. It was this idea that caused Brook to become so sensitive to the uselessness of killing the transgressors of the Canon Laws: those laws, more than half of which, were written only to benefit the Great Church of The Almighty.
She was saddened when she realised that Boy, and all those of his age, might not have any kind of future at all.
She continued to look at the boy. Her mind remained deep in thought about him and his vague tomorrow. She almost cried.
"He's a hardy boy, Lady Scullion-Blue!" A sudden, slow and taring voice, that sent a cold flush down her back and that raised the small hairs on the nape of her neck, came from behind. She quickly turned, and when she saw that it was the Cardinal Allen, she curtsied to him and kissed his hand.
"Is your household faring well, my child? asked the Cardinal.
"Yes, Cardinal Allen. We are happy for our blessings." she moved away from him.
"I am happy for you … I am surprised to see you in the market today. It's not your usual day?" his voice sounded scheming and distrustful as he eyed her. Dearborne felt uneasy, as if she were being prodded or groped by someone. She felt as if swarms of army ants were crawling over her entire body, and were devouring her alive. She didn't answer right away. She quietly looked to see if Boy was still by the stage but he had moved with the girl to another one, where some magician made small animals and shapes transmute in their appearance.
Dearborn turned back to the Cardinal and answered.
"No, it's not my usual day for marketing. I stayed home with Brook, yesterday!" she said.
"No doubt talking about raising a family — I wager?"
"Yes! That is so! We feel that we are now prepared for children."
"True, true! — Just a few days ago I was speaking with some of the Brothers, at Halls, about you and Lord Brook. We prayed that you may soon be blessed with many sons. All of us look forward to your sons' future attendance at out vicarage." Dearborne became somewhat disturbed and briefly lost her pleasant smile. She answered him in a subdued, but still obviously denying tone of voice.
"Yes! Definitely that!" she said then became silent, once again.
Cardinal Allen slowly looked over Dearborne's whole body and sighed. He imagined the pleasures that he could experience if he were to bed with her; to meet her full mouth with his and to touch the full softness of her bosom.
Dearborne moved her long hair allowing it to fall upon her breasts, covering herself from the Cardinal's intensive gaze.
After a few moments of silence, Cardinal Allen glared into her eyes, and in a dishonestly gentle voice, asked her if she cared for refreshment. She couldn't but answer him, and soon she tried to smile as she conceded.
"Shall we sit, then?" asked the Cardinal and escorted her to a vacant table at the café, where several of the men sat about, eyeing them and mumbling with questioning discontent and accusation. Soon, however, they returned to their talking and did not pay attention to the Lady, and the Cardinal, sitting nearby. They resumed their previously gaiety and laughter, and heavy-handed talk.
A large, blond tavern maid soon came to the table. She toted a tray of dirty tankards. With a big smile, she winked at Cardinal Allen then looked at Dearborne. She chuckled a little when he smiled back at her.
"How you, Cardin' — What do?" she asked. Her eyes jutted back and forth between him and Dearborne.
"A small rose wine, please." she finally said.
The tavern maid grinned, then once again winked at Cardinal Allen. With a quick and brisk "it's good!", she left them.
The strange commotion that boomed on the street most of the morning, had grown and spread right down to the café where they sat. Cardinal Allen wasn't too disturbed by the loud shouting of some young man and the discontented, riotous mob that shouted back at him. He was preoccupied with his interest in Dearborne. They said very little at the table or at least, nothing that was of any great significance. Dearborne watched the crowd as they started to throw stones and ripe fruit at the you man, and Allen watched Dearborne's breasts rise and fall with her every breath.
Once more, he continued his deceit and his lecherous manner.
"Ah, yes! Lord Brook is a very lucky man, to have wed such a woman as you!"
Dearborne became even more upset and she began to fidget. She looked around to see if anyone was listening; most were interested in the young man that was creating the disturbance, and Miel had long since left.
"If I had not become a man of the Almighty, I could have wed such a precious fawn. I, too, could have cleaved to a woman whose blood boils for only the one man that she loves."
Dearborne was surprised by what the Cardinal had said to her. Uncomfortable, she tried to speak while she looked around to make certain that no one else heard him.
"Cardinal Allen — I pray, explain the meaning of that remark, or I will have to tell Brook!"
"I beg your forgiveness, if I have offended, my Lady. It is known throughout these lands, that women who drink of the rose, are warm and passionate to those men that they love."
He looked at her and smiled, his one gold tooth reflecting the sunlight.
No one else, in the café, heard their exchange. Their attentions were rivetted on the disturbance that rumbled a little ways down the street.
The tavern maid brought the drinks, served them, and winked at Cardinal Allen before she left. "Enjoy, Cardin'!" she said, then went to serve someone else.
"I'm sorry, Cardinal! I misunderstood the intent behind your words."
Cardinal Allen bowed his head and smiled at her a forgiving little smile. In his norm, he turned his own decadence around and once more had come clean.
"The mistake was unintentional, my child. Let us pray that this does not happen again." he clasped his hands and lowered his head.
Dearborne bowed her head, as well, and sighed.
The Cardinal, however, did not pray. He looked up at her and only thought about how wonderful she was, and the joys and the pleasures that Lord Scullion must feel when he takes her. He thought about the intense heat that he felt, just sitting near her; watching her smooth glow and the inviting look in her eyes, as if saying "I will take you, my Lord Cardinal." But soon his thoughts brought him back to his place, as it was, at Halls. There was the devotion that he had to show, and the tributes that he had to give, to the other brothers there, and also the obligation that he had to The Almighty, Himself. He sighed and said "amen" and Dearborne echoed him.
"I must leave you, now, Cardinal." she continued with a silent hesitation. "Thank-you for the refreshment, and of course the compliment." She saw him, still over by the magician and the girl. She called to him and before he came he kissed the girl and waved to her even though she stood right beside her. She giggled and Boy ran to Dearborne when she called to him again.
"Here I come, Lady!" he shouted as he ran to her. Along the way he stumbled and dirtied himself, but he sprang up quickly and continued.
Cardinal Allen took her hand. She spun around in surprise and faced him. She glared at him as his voice, heavy and wet, filtered into her mind.
"Before you go, my Lady, please do not forget to request a visit with Lord Scullion. The ArchBishop does very much wish to see him." She pulled her hand out of his, in a slow and obviously repulsed manner. She than walked away. Boy ran after her and she handed him the basket of fruit and vegetables.
As they headed in the direction that they had come from, the commotion that was down the street was now before them. They tried to make their way to the main boulevard but when they made it, Dearborne stopped to see what the problem was.
People pushed and shoved one another and screamed obscenities at a man, about Dearborne's age, who jumped up on the magician's stage, knocking the magician to the ground. Throughout the clamour and confusion, the man yelled at the people, but no one listened. He finally had to hit a few individuals, sending them careening to the ground, in order that he could stay on the stage.
"Listen!" he yelled. "Listen — Hear Me!" Now, on stage, the noise of the crowd heightened. Every single person screamed at him. Most screamed insults and profanity while others screamed at him calling him a blasphemer and a heretic. Some men tried to pull him off the stage but he kicked and swung his fists, and made a mark on their faces.
The man lifted a tattered book into the air to show the people, and yelled in desperation at the people to listen to what he had to say.
"Listen, people of Phoride! Hear the truths that have been! Listen so that you too may know!" he screamed.
The anger of the people was coming to a boil and some men shouted as loud as they could at him.
"What truths? Words that we don't understand?" hollered one, in anger, back at him.
"Blasphemies and heresies to destroy our faith in The Almighty!" shouted another.
"We don't listen to lies! — Remove him!"
"These are not lies. These are truths, of the great things that had once been and can be, again!" pleaded the man from the stage. The murmur of the riotous mob grew; people yelled to others to take him away and kill him, and to close their eyes to his devilish words.
"Hear me, friends! Hear the words of the "old ones" from that age that had vanished! — Hear of those who have been in shelter, and who waited to be born again. All of you are the witnesses to them, to reason and to understand them, again!" said the man on the stage as he waved his book in the air, over his head.
Dearborne and Boy moved into the shadows of the adjacent street. She was curious to hear what the man had to say.
Cardinal Allen still stood by the café table and watched some woman grab at the leg-bindings of the man's sandal. Allen waited. The woman screamed.
"This demon tempts us! Call the Almighty's Angels to destroy him!" and Allen pulled from his habit a small flat, triangular device and passed his forefinger over its surface. Instantly, bells echoed throughout the street and the roar of the mob died down as they moved back, away from the stage.
Two tall male figures, dressed totally in black, with dark helmets and shiny metals adorning them, entered the square in haste, beside the café. Cardinal Allen pointed a bony finger at the man on stage and the two monastic guards stepped up to the stage and drew their weapons on him.
The man on stage was certain that they would fire upon him. He knew that he couldn't allow his book to be taken from him, for then no one would ever see it. He quickly took a glass ball from his hip sack and threw it down at the guards. A twangy sound echoed though the air and the man fell from the stage, to the ground. The glass ball that he had thrown down poured-out a grey green smoke, giving him the chance to drag himself into one of the nearby alleys.
The monastic guards stopped in their tracks. Their guns were still pointed up towards the stage but they did not fire any more.
The mob, aimless and panicked, ran into one another and screamed in horror that they were blind. Others fell to the ground and crawled off, crying and praying to the Almighty to deliver them from the evil that had befallen them.
Cardinal Allen ran off in the direction of Halls, still rubbing his forefinger over the surface of the device. The roar of the mob subsided, giving way to the eerie sounds of the bells that echoed through every part of Pomperaque. As Allen approached Halls, he fell over his habit, dragging behind him, and in final desperation, made it through the gateway and collapsed by the fountain in the courtyard.
Amidst the confusion in the city square was the man's body. It dragged itself into a doorway, his hand cupped over the open fist-sized wound in his side. The intolerable pain made him sway out of the doorway and onto the cobble-stone street. He dropped his book as he tried to stand up, and vomited into the gutter before he passed out.
Some figures quickly rushed towards him. One of them grabbed the book and concealed it with their clothes, as they took him under the arms and quickly spirited him away.
Overlooking pomperaque stood Mount Benitar the rock of wisdom. There sat a man of wisdom, who watched everything that occurred in that great city.
The man of the mountain was not pleased with what he witnessed taking place over the centuries. Alone, he contemplated his descent into the valley.