Dark Age (7 page)

Chapter 7

“
S
tand still,” my
father said, measuring my shoulders. A month had passed since the break-in, and the time had come for the blacksmith to make the armor I would wear in the Guard. In my case, my own father had to fulfill this task. It was a rather strange occasion. We passed very few words, and yet it had to be done.

Once the measurements were taken, we went through each piece of the armor one after the other. The shoulder protectors alone had to be reshaped seven times for maximum mobility and protection. The plating was done so intricately that it would still fit even if my body were trained to twice the size. My forearm protectors were next.

Night had already approached, while the blazing fire of the furnace kept the entire workshop as bright as day. The hammers, knives, and swords across the wall shimmered peacefully in its light while the wooden tables and cupboards were greyed from years of smoke.

“I can finish the rest alone,” he said after taking the final measurements.

I nodded thankfully. “I will go out for a walk.”

“Just don’t run into the guards.”

“I won’t,” I said and left the workshop.

The night sky was perfectly clear, revealing many constellations like bright images. With fast steps I passed the Works and approached the Merchant District. The guards merely nodded and let me walk right through the gate. Ever since it became known in the Merchant District that I was close with the Inquisitor’s family, they no longer gave me a hard time.

Only few merchants were out, sitting on the dimly lit benches, talking about business. I left the boulevard and followed the small path to the mansion. The rounded door shone from the distance, illuminated by the torches at its sides. For a moment I felt like I was back at my celebration. Except this time I came alone, and knew what I had to do.

The door was unlocked as planned. Cecilia had agreed to distract the guards so I could meet with her late at night and watch the stars.

It was a strange feeling standing in the red corridor by myself. It felt like walking across the stage of a play, demystifying it, yet becoming part of it at the same time. Slowly I dragged my feet over the rug, realizing that this may be the last time I would walk in here. I mustered all my strength and made my way up to the study.

“You took some time,” she said in her usual taunting tone.

“Me and my father were preparing my armor for the Guard,” I responded angered by the circumstance. She always acted as if the Guard was my choice, yet her mere relation with the Inquisitor put her more at fault than anyone else.

“It’s mid-March, Adam. You have more than half a year left before the Guard,” she said. “Stop grieving me with your worries. I will ask my uncle to free you from service.”

“Don’t waste your time,” I said. “The last thing your uncle is interested in is setting bad precedents.” I approached the telescope and carefully looked through the eyepiece. For a moment I escaped the city and was lost in the vast nothingness, miles above and beyond the gates.

“Maybe I can ask him to place you in a safe position outside the gates,” she suggested. “A daytime watch perhaps.”

Irritated by her insistence I gasped and turned away from the telescope to face her, “Listen, I am not some important merchant boy whose parents can afford such favors. Nor do I want to be treated like one. If I have to serve, I will,” I snapped at her. “Trust me I will do everything in my power to not go,” I said. “Of course I am afraid! Ever since my celebration I have seen more body carts than I can count. But having to talk about the Guard every day of my last few months does not improve my situation.”

Cecilia laid her hand upon my shoulder, “You might not be some merchant boy, but you are important nonetheless.” Her eyes sought mine, but I avoided her look. “Ever since I grew up I wished for a friend. I might be the arrogant ward on the balcony, but on the inside I am alone. I finally found that friend in you, Adam. I do not want to lose you just yet.”

“There is something I have not told you,” I began. I needed to tell her of my plot to kill her uncle.

“I know Adam, I know,” she said with a faint smile, caressing my face. “The girl. I watch the districts from my window sometimes. Ever since I met you I have seen the two of you together a lot. She must be very special to you.”

“I am sorry, I did not mean to hide her from you,” I assured her, caught by surprise. A glimpse of sadness tainted her face. “Look at me,” I said, “you are very important to me too. I just can’t be what you want me to be.”

“I am happy for you; both of you,” she said. “I have been alone my whole life. All I ask for is a friend. Promise me that you will come back and won’t forget about me.” An uncertain smile crossed her lips.

I felt so close to her and yet I could never betray Katrina. “I will always be your friend,” I said and took her in my arms.

That moment my emotions began to blur my plans. I withdrew myself from her quickly. “I have to go,” I said, “I am very sorry.” Without any further words I ran out of the room. Her misery, as well as mine, was caused by him. I had to kill him. I made my way up two flights of stairs and went down a side hall. By now I had known the maze of stairs and doors in and out.

Cecilia had told me the day before that the Inquisitor would hold a meeting with his high council in the library, a hall two stories high. He and his council had assembled around a long table on the bottom floor as I waited at the door to the upper level, which was comprised of an interior balcony that went around the sides of the hall. Two round stairs connected the levels at the end of the hall, facing the back of the Inquisitor’s armchair. All I had to do was surprise him from behind with my dagger. Then it would all be over.

Hunched, I sneaked onto the balcony when nobody was looking up. One of the marble pillars that rose from the first through the second floor gave me cover. I knelt down and sat silent for a moment.

“Father, we have received new reports from the mines. One of my contacts in the Guard has found evidence of the Gate Watchers,” said an old man with grey beard and grey braided hair.

“Tell them to destroy everything upon sight,” the Inquisitor remarked. “Their remains seem to be endless.”

“What about the finder?” another man in a black robe asked.

“Give your contact a reward for reporting to you and keeping quiet, but if he knows too much, do what you have to,” the Inquisitor said quietly.

“We also have more pressing issues, father,” said another, who was far younger than all the others, yet radiated sophistication, bravery and authority. These values bundled with his unflinching presence reminded of the eagles I so admired. Even now he was wearing heavy armor that seemed to have originated from the Grey Guard, covered in extra protections and ornaments.

“Spit it out Terric, what happened?” the Inquisitor asked.

“I would never leave the wall myself, if it was not important,” he began. “The raids have steadily increased. Our men cannot keep up with production while fending for their lives. We only made it through the winter because we cut into our reserves. Next time we won’t be as lucky. I have three proposals for you.”

“Go on,” the Inquisitor said. His face showed more concern than he ever dared to show in public. Every time I peeked through the banister from behind the pillar, he grew more distressed and let his composure falter. Leaning on the table, he rested his head on his palm and listened.

“My first proposal would be to extend the age range of service,” Terric said.

The Inquisitor chuckled, and looked at Terric with disbelieve, “I need some men inside the gates too. The people would go mad over such news. Go on.”

“We need better weapons and better protection. I know that we retrieved heavy weaponry from the Gate Watchers. We could use it to our advantage,” Terric proposed.

“Do you hear yourself talk? Your men will not use these weapons, nor even touch them. By the time they know how to handle them, you will be out of bullets,” the Inquisitor said. His tone became somewhat aggravated yet helpless, “Train your men to be stronger, tell the blacksmith to add some extra padding, and improve the outer wall. That is all.”

“You leave me no other choice than my final proposal,” Terric said.

The Inquisitor looked up at him waiting for something reasonable.

“Open the gates,” he said with a stern face.

“I have heard enough of you. Get back to your post and do not bother me again until you can come up with something rational,” the Inquisitor said.

There was a daunting silence at the table. Everyone avoided the glance of the Inquisitor, hoping to come up with brighter news to adjourn the meeting with. The man with the grey braided hair rose and gave a formal farewell. The other eleven council members quickly joined him and left.

Quietly he sat there by himself and spun his ring on the table. A rather strange rhythm began to set. Every few moments I would hear the light gold clash against the dark wooden table.

Quickly I inched my way towards the staircase to get closer to him, while he was lost somewhere in his thoughts. For too long he hid the truth from us. What weapons? What Gate Watchers? What raids? It had to end. He was the sole reason my life had collapsed into such chaos.

My hand clutched the stiletto at my waist and slowly drew it from the belt. The last pillar of the staircase gave me cover, as the ring stopped spinning. My heart beat faster and faster, yet I had to keep my breath under control. Slowly I stepped away from the pillar and approached him from behind. Just a few feet separated the blade from his heart. It was so graspable, so real. With every step I could taste victory and freedom as memories of old pains, and dreams of futures lost, flashed before my eyes.

Images of everybody I knew, whose lives had been ruined by the Inquisitor, appeared before me. Elias was still out there. Bennet and Colin were dead. Mother and Father had to watch it all. Peter was about to be sent off too. Robert and Seth barely hung on from day to day to survive. Eric lost his wife, and Katrina was about to lose me.

Cecilia…
“I have been alone my whole life. All I ask for is a friend.”
I froze, reflecting on our earlier conversation. The tip of the dagger almost touched the Inquisitor’s neck. He had caused her so much trouble, yet was her only family. As much as I wanted to push that dagger through his back into his black heart, I could not have ripped him away from her. My hand trembled, pushed forward by my mind but held back by my heart.

Chapter 8

I
f
elt dead
inside, but he was still alive. Come sun rise, I would leave this city and maybe never return. Much had happened since I had the chance to kill him.

I had fled the mansion, without him ever knowing that his life lay at my mercy that night. I never told Cecilia. In fact I never told anyone but Peter. He was upset, hating me for a day or two, but finally forgave me. “You are no murderer Adam,” he had said. “But now we both have to learn to become one.”

His time came by very quickly. Four months had passed and he was absorbed into the outside world as if he had never existed. I stood with his family at the gate that day, bidding him goodbye until we would meet again. Already back then, I saw myself in his shoes, approaching the gigantic gate. Since that day it seemed as if the life had been sucked out of his father. The old barber barely spoke to his customers anymore.

The last time I saw Cecilia was mere two weeks later. We sat in her study, learning about the inventions of Leonardo da Vinci. His flying machines amazed me more than anything I could imagine; they gave men the power of an eagle. As we read about them, the bells rang. I dismissed them thinking it was noon. But then it rang again. And it rang a third time.

“Oh what a shame,” the teacher said, “poor young soul.”

I ignored it, focusing on the lesson. Ever since I overheard the council’s warnings at the secret meeting, a guard died every few weeks. Nothing could have happened to Peter, since he just started training.

It must have been ten minutes later, when Anthony ripped open the door without being asked to enter. His face was distraught, his eyes fixated on mine, “Adam,” he said, “come with me.”

Elias. For just a moment I forgot about him, just so that I would never be able to forget him again. The next moments ran by so fast, leaving nothing but a blur. All I recall are images: Anthony telling me to follow him; Charging down the staircase towards the red corridor; Fighting my way through the crowd of curious spectators. Elias lying on the body cart.

Mother and father had already been there. I fell into their arms before I could form any sentence. My mother’s sobs and my father’s strong embrace gave me support, both emotionally and physically. Their skin brushed against mine, and for a moment it felt like we were one body. I felt so close to them. Yet I knew I would lose them too… or they would lose me.

Removing myself from the huddled masses of my mother and father I turned towards my dead brother. At first sight he seemed estranged. It took me a while to recognize him as my own brother. Nearly eight years had passed since I had seen him. The boy had turned into a man.

His death came not in battle; No blade or bolt had pierced his skin. It was the damned gift of the gods that took his life. His entire body had been destroyed by a fire. Deep red discolored the darkened skin at his limbs where the flames had eaten through his flesh. His clothes and armor were ragged, his body violated, and his face forever left in pain. My hand softly brushed through his ash-blond hair that had mostly been spared by the flames. I tried to hold on to him in that moment, but there was nothing I could have done to bring him back. With tears rushing down my face, my throat was still blocked by a lump of pain, and yet screams emerged from deep within my soul.

My final hours passed by, as the rain trickled down on me. It was the last thing I was worried about. I sat on the Mount, maybe for the last time. Katrina held me tight, tears running down her face uncontrollably, while I numbly gazed into the horizon. A chapter in my life was about to close, and yet I seemed to be stuck on the first few pages. I was not ready to leave this all behind. My eyes caught Orion once again. He did not make it, but hell I would.

We were still sitting atop the roof, when the sun began to rise in the distance. I closed my eyes and cherished the warm rays. I wanted to focus on the moment, but all I could think of were the things I didn’t do and may never get a chance of doing. At seven o’clock they would make me leave this city behind; before morning mass, before almost anybody had left their house. Opening my eyes, I hoped to wake up from a dream, but everything was still the same.

I slowly climbed down the Mount and made my way back home. My parents were already packing together anything that they thought I should carry with myself: Souvenirs as memories and clothing to get me through the winter. At last my room seemed vacant, almost dead, with nothing but a few books on my desk. My hand glided over the wall and the furniture as if to say goodbye.

With my parents at each side, I passed through the Works, heading towards the gate.

A band of familiar faces and friends already awaited me. Robert embraced me with his strong arms and fought the tears, “Be careful out there boy,” he said. “Whatever will happen, I only hope that Seth will one day be as great of a young man as you are. Take care Adam.”

Anthony came next, and overcame formalities to embrace me as well, “I will miss you my friend,” he said. “But even more so will the ward. She sends you the warmest farewell and wishes you the best of luck on your ventures outside the gate. Please stay safe.”

I thanked Anthony and turned toward the mansion that loomed over the city from the South. A faint smile crossed my lips and I waved into the empty air. I knew that she was watching.

Eric came next, followed by my mother who wept as if she had just seen my face on a cart. She would not let go, until the guards told me to move on.

At last it was Katrina’s turn. I gazed into her hazel eyes for what felt like a lifetime and more. Then I closed my eyes and gave her what might have been my last kiss. She tried to fight them, but the tears kept returning. I knelt down at the city wall and plucked a purple flower out of the ground, “Remember me,” I said as our foreheads brushed against another.

My father handed me my bundle, “Stay strong son, whatever happens.”

“Forged in fire,” I said, giving him a final embrace.

The house-high gate doors opened slowly. I threw a last glance behind me, catching the eyes of the loved ones that were so close to me. The gates were almost fully ajar. Firmly I faced ahead, striding into the unknown.