Dark Age (28 page)

Chapter 36

A
year
had
passed since Cecilia and I danced into the sunset. Much had changed at first, but quickly life took its rhythm. With her I learned to leave behind the past and focus on the future; a future we were yet shaping. The Inquisitor’s plan had worked after all. Cecilia and I had become a symbol of perfection. The common boy, that rose to godlike respect, and the girl that won the hearts and minds of the people through her kindness. As much as we loved our new roles, we were the living puppets of the Inquisitor. Every wrongdoing of his was undone by our appearance. We walked the thin line of inspiration and manipulation.

The rebellion had calmed over the months following the wedding. Every now and then another set of men were sparked by the words I had laid on them a year ago. As if awoken from a century long slumber, some of them could no longer live under the lies of the Inquisition. But the worst was their volatility and unpredictability. Like an insect waiting for the right moment to bite, a subliminal urge to rebellion lingered in them forever, until it snapped.

It was this pattern the Inquisitor had not calculated in his plan. Nor did he consider the fact of his own demise.

“Tell them to call it off,” the Inquisitor said to Anthony. His voice was weak and so were his bones. Thin like a stick and white like a ghost he lay in his bed.

“It’s the third ceremony you are calling off,” I said, “You can’t suddenly change a century old tradition.”

“Look at me,” he said. “They can’t see me like this. I rather have them fear a powerful man that has turned their back on them, than watch them laugh at me as I try to win their favors with kindness. Times have changed and I must adjust to keep this city alive.”

“How long do you think they will play along? Don’t you think they want to see what happened with their leader?” Cecilia asked.

“The doctor will fix me up,” the Inquisitor insisted. “There have been darker times I have faced over the last one and a half centuries. Everything will be back to normal in a few weeks.”

“You can be their friend. It takes strength to show weakness,” I suggested not believing in his recovery.

“I can never be their friend,” he hissed. “A leader can’t confuse friendliness with strength. They are two exclusive properties. A soft heart poisons fear, and fear breeds respect.”

Cecilia grabbed me by the arm, and whispered in my ear, “We can’t help him. Let him be.”

I left the room without another word. Cecilia followed me closely.

“Let’s go to the square and get your mind off him. Maybe we can personally congratulate the seventeen year old, so his family will not feel excluded.”

She was right. She always was. The bigger the tensions between me and her uncle grew, the more reasonable she appeared.

Down the stairs, through the corridor and over the terracotta boulevard, we made it to the square. A slight tension lay in the air. Some greeted us, some looked the other way. In hushed voices they whispered, stopping whenever we came too close. The word of the canceled celebration quickly made its rounds. A month ago the first had been canceled. It was met by shock, yet understanding. The second time, two weeks ago, was accepted suspiciously. But the third time was taken with unmistakable hostility.

Even our names and faces had been tainted by the Inquisitor. Their eyes pierced through us like two walking lies. When our presence caused nothing but more angry looks, we decided to leave the market and seek the boy. He was one of the miller’s many sons, most likely stuck at work even on this day. We drove deep into the Industrial District past the smelter and lumber mill. The house was a shabby old construction. The thought that all flour came from there was a scary thought. Unsure of what to say we waited hesitant in front of the door. After a moment I knocked with my cane.

Silence reigned. A moment later footsteps approached the door. Through the peephole an eye glanced at us, but the door remained closed. Then the eye disappeared.

“Hello,” called Cecilia as the footsteps distanced themselves.

“Jason’s not home. Please leave,” the woman inside responded harshly.

Disappointed Cecilia placed a basket of fresh fruits at the foot of the door.

“Do you smell that?” I asked her.

“Is that smoke?” Her eyes shot from side to side, “Look!”

In the distance of the Industrial District a large cloud of smoke rose into the sky. It was not the kind of smoke that came from a chimney. It was the smoke of a burning house.

“Let’s go! Maybe someone is hurt,” Cecilia suggested and pulled me faster than I could walk. The narrow alleys of the district made it impossible to navigate quickly to the source of the fire. The closer we made it the hotter the flames became. Heat radiated far from the fire itself, while the smoke started to spread within the city walls.

The frightened scream of a girl penetrated the air. With quickened feet we rushed through the last intersection.

My eyes drowned in horror, forcing me to a complete stop. I did not know where to look. To the right, the large textile factory was ablaze with flames licking the sky. Henry, the captain of the city guard and husband of the owner of the factory hung mutilated from the top of the building. Burned bodies lay outside the building, having collapsed after the fire burned too deep into their flesh. Another girl’s fate had been sealed in front of our eyes. Her clothes caught fire as she tried to exit the building. A band of men stood around the factory with triumphant smiles.

A second girl ran out of the house before the fire could take her. With lustful eyes Jason, the miller boy, grabbed her by the arm on her way out and ripped off part of her blouse. Frightened, she protested with tears rushing down her face.

“Leave her alone!” Cecilia cried.

The group noticed us for the first time. At once their smiles grew even wider. Unflinching Cecilia walked towards the girl. All I could do was follow her.

Roughly she pushed Jason off the girl, took her by the hand, and walked away. He grinned playfully and groped Cecilia as she turned away. Before she could slap him across the face, I had transported his head to the ground. Over the past year I had learned to use my cane for more than just walking.

She looked at me in surprise. Jason began to move again, pressing his palm against his face.

“Move,” I ordered her, noticing the men collectively approaching us. One of them drew a knife.

“Run already!” I hissed and moved my cane from side to side like a sword.

“I am not leaving you here,” she said.

“You know I am not fast enough,” I said, “Run and get the guards!”

At last she listened, chased by a few of the men.

The one with the dagger stepped closer to me and jumped, jabbing out his blade. Taking full swing, I knocked the solid metal eagle into his cheek. He went right down next to Jason. Just a few seconds later, the next man came at me holding a large rock in his hand. With just enough time I regained balance and rammed the other end of the cane into his stomach.

A man behind me had drawn a sword and aimed for my head. With a second away from death, I dodged his blow. Stress and pain shot through my damaged leg as it hit the ground. Clenching my teeth, I pushed myself upright onto my cane. Blocking his next blow would have been useless as the steel would have gone right through my cane. Jumping, running or staying; it all shot through my mind as the man took swing to cut off my head.

Before I could decide, an arrow pierced into his side. Distracted by the pain he shrugged together and looked for his attacker. With a full swing I knocked him out.

The battle had begun. A group of city-guards charged with drawn blades at the constantly growing number of insurgents. A young man holding a large bag under his arm ran around handing out weapons of all kind. Armed with swords, axes, and hammers they stood their ground against the incoming guards.

I was quickly forgotten in the midst of arrows and steel. A guard cut down a citizen to my left. Two citizens struck out and killed a guard to my right. It was pure chaos.

The blood pumped wildly, almost out of rhythm, through my veins. With big painful steps I circumvented the combatants. Three men followed me but were quickly cut off by more guards that had come running from all districts.

A group of five soldiers ran towards me as I hobbled parallel to the square. One of them was Anthony with a blade in hand.

“Let’s go Adam,” he yelled. “We need to return to the mansion, the Merchant District is about to close its gate!”

“First we need to send more guards,” I said joining their formation. “The rebels are outnumbering us.”

“All the guards are entangled already,” he said out of breath. “The merchants maintain their personal guard and so is the Inquisitor. We can’t protect the people from themselves.”

I threw a quick glance back and watched as three guards stood back to back surrounded by two dozen men armed with swords, bats and stones. Resistance was indeed hopeless. Before he yelled at me again I picked up my feet and followed them as fast as I could. Anthony and two guards charged towards the gate as the chains began to move. The grate slowly began to lower into the gate. My knee started to pain. I was prisoner of my own body. “Just give me one second,” I said catching a breath under the burning pain. The two guards that had stayed with me grew impatient.

Anthony reached the gate. His two guards held up the grate from moving any further while he argued with the Merchant District’s gate keeper. With undying vigor I picked up my pace and pushed my way the last fifty feet.

A loud noise erupted from behind me. Feet. Stomping feet. In my hobbling sprint I paused to take a look around. A horde of around a hundred citizens ran after us with torches and knifes. Their faces wore the demonic possession of the mob.

“Let’s go!” cried Anthony, who seemed to lose the battle over the gate with a group of merchants that had assembled around him.

I only had twenty more feet to go. The mob drew in closer going at an immense speed.

“We won’t be able to close the gate in time!” yelled the gatekeeper at Anthony. Furiously he pointed at the storming masses, “If they get in we are all doomed!”

Fed up with the wait, the merchants detained Anthony and his guards. Angrily the gatekeeper flipped the switch and the grate began to lower again. We were less than ten feet away.

I yanked my cane through the gap and jumped, sliding inside just before the grate locked my two companions outside. A merchant reached out his hand to help me onto my feet while another handed me my cane.

“Open the gate!” I ordered the gatekeeper.

“I won’t let those animals destroy our district,” he said blocking the switch with his body.

“You can’t let them die out there. They stayed behind to protect me!”

“Then their blood is on your hands, not mine,” he said pushing me off him as I tried to reach for the switch.

“It is alright, Mr. Blacksmith,” one of the two said with panic in his eyes, “we shall die for God. And for you.”

They drew their swords and assumed battle stance. Their swords tilted slightly upright facing the approaching horde.

Five seconds. I saw their arms shaking. Three seconds. The mob cried out. One second. The guards took swing.

With a loud thud, masses of bodies clashed into another, pressing against the grate. Before the guards could hold anyone off, their bodies were mangled by the violent collision of the mob and the gate.

We all jumped back, as their arms reached out for us through the grate like a pack of wild beasts.

“They will be locked out for now, but sooner or later the grate will give in,” the gatekeeper said. “Take whatever weapons you can find and spike those sons of bitches.”

“You can’t kill them,” I objected, “the city is lost if any more people die.”

“Boy, I rather kill them, before they kill us,” he said. “Go and find the Inquisitor. He must know of something to do.”

“There is nothing he can do,” I said.

“Maybe our immortal leader is not so godly after all,” another hissed. “Then you go and do something.”

Anthony grabbed me by the arm and pulled me through the crowd of merchants. “There is no time for arguing,” he said, “we need to get you to safety.”