The Journal of Renault, Bishop of Valor
Chapter 9
HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE I WROTE ANYTHING JESUS
Okay, let me recap some of the things that have happened since I last posted a chapter/fanfiction:
-I quit my job at Walmart after 11 months of working there
-I started a new job on the 21st of September (insert funny meme here)
-Financial troubles have stabilized somewhat
-I began writing on the blog site Medium and then decided to back out like a coward since my first article didn't do so well (hardly anyone saw it).
-Mental troubles have returned because of some drama with a now former friend of mine
And now that most of my afternoons are going to be spent away at work from 3:30-11:30PM my time, I'll only be able to write in the short window of time that I have in the morning. I do not want this series to die, so I'm gonna hack away at it as much as I can with the time available to me in the coming days, weeks, and months.
If you like the series so far, consider following and reviewing, and don't forget to add me on Twitter (codyguliwriting). Enjoy Chapter 9!
There, in the distance in front of me, was Mount Eburacum, the largest mining operation in all of the Western Isles. From the view across the valley, I could see a large castle standing high and mighty above a cluster of villages and stone walls like a boy towering over a colony of ants. I could smell the smoke of the smelters and the unpleasant smell of earthen solder cast into the air before me, and in haste I quickly wafted the smell away from my nostrils. It reeked of sulfur and iron.
As I descended down onto the mining village, I was stopped by two common foot-soldiers, both of whom pointed their lances at me as if I posed a threat to them. I slowly raised my hands to assure them I meant no harm, but they didn't move an inch. It was only when I heard a sharp whistle did they turn around. Behind them was a third soldier dressed in bulkier armor and without a helmet to hide the gruff, dirty and bald mug staring at me. I lowered my hands as slowly as I had raised them and stood completely still as he approached me. He sized me up top to bottom, despite the fact I had shown him and his friends that I wasn't hostile. Typical soldier types, I thought. At last, the man stepped back and turned to his colleagues.
"He's perfectly harmless," he said. "Just another priest." He turned his attention back to me. "Who are you? Why are you here?"
"I am Renault from the church of Saint Elimine. I've come here seeking someone in Eburacum-"
"No one enters the village without permission from Nord," the man boomed.
"Then bring me to him so I may speak to him," I replied impatiently.
"No one sees Nord without requesting an audience. Leave now or-"
"What's all the commotion out here you fools?!" called a raspy voice from behind the soldiers. It came from a mysterious looking fellow draped in a purple cloak, perhaps a shaman. His crooked hands fumbled and fussed with each other as he drew closer to the group. "Who is this man?" he snarled.
"Renault, sir," I responded calmly. "I'm a priest travelling to-"
"A priest, you say?" the shaman interrupted. "Ah...welcome, welcome! Do pardon my guards and their...incompetence. Come with me. You're more than welcome." I was at the gates of this shaman's castle for no more than a few minutes and I was already being shuffled inside. What a strange fellow, I thought, but I might as well play along.
The inside of the castle was much less appealing than that of the one in Ostia. Instead of lush carpets and shining floors of marble and pillars of the strongest cobblestone, there were cracked walls, moss hanging from the ceiling, and a dank, unsatisfying odor that smelled like a mixture of rotting flesh and human waste. For a second I was afraid that I was going to be sick, but the second that I was ushered into the throne room (or whatever was left of it), my nose was filled with a delectable scent that smelled like ambrosia and fine herbs. The shaman explained that it was an incense used to ward off the maggots and rodents that made their homes inside the walls of this castle. The shaman took a seat on the crooked throne at the back of the room, still fumbling his hands together as if he were concocting an evil plan. "Now then," he chuckled. "Do tell us what brings you here."
"Good sir," I answered politely, "I only wish to seek passage into the village under Mount Eburacum."
"So I hear, so I hear...everybody wants passage through the mining village. Soldiers, mercenaries, priests...but I tell them all the same thing."
"And that is?"
"Never."
"Now listen here, good man-" Before I could utter another word, I was grabbed from behind by two of the guards like the ones outside. The next thing I knew, my arms were forced behind me and my feet were shackled together. The shaman stood up and stared at me menacingly. A coy smile furled across his cheeks as he ordered the guardsmen to throw me downstairs in the dungeons. As I was being escorted I heard the shaman call out, "You think you're the first of your kind to step into Nord's castle, priest of Saint Elimine? I know what you really seek, and you will never step foot in that mining village, or anywhere else, for the rest of your days." The next thing I knew, I felt a sharp pain in my head and everything faded to black.
When I woke up, night had fallen and the cell had gotten colder. I tried everything to keep warm, but the breeze of night made me shiver even more. I looked around for any possible means of escape, but unfortunately this castle's cells lacked secret exits of any kind. Worse still, it seemed that the shaman, whom I deduced was Nord, had placed one of the more attentive guards on duty. He didn't blink or yawn at all. He was as still and as solid as a rock. There was no use in trying to snag the cell key from him either, for he didn't carry it nor did he have it on him. All seemed to be hopeless, so I decided the best course of action would be to just go back to resting for the night.
About a few minutes later, however, I heard a muffled grunt and the clatter of armor resting slowly to the ground. I sat up and rubbed my eyes to find the guard lying dead on the ground with three hooded figures, two tall ones and a much shorter one, standing over the corpse. I opened my mouth to speak, but one of the figures shushed me.
"We're breakin' ya out, priest," said the tallest figure in a cockney accent, "so keep ya mouth shut an' we might escape." He gave a nudge to the smallest figure, signaling it to pick the lock on the cell door. With a few clicks and clanks, the door slowly swung open, and the figures gestured at me to follow them.
"Come on," the tallest one whispered. Soon the four of us were scurrying like mice across the corridor, being extra cautious not to alert the other guards. The halls felt longer than they looked, but eventually we had managed to sneak out of the castle and towards the mining village. I could hear the shouting of the castle's guards behind me as we moved further through the shadow of the night. Eventually, we came to the gate of the village and the tallest of the three gave it a special knock: one knock, followed by two quickfire knocks, and then one more. The entrance slowly swung open to reveal another figure, this time clad in armor.
"Who's dis git?" he snarled suspiciously.
"Relax chum," replied the tall one. "Dis one's just a priest. Found 'im locked up in Nord's castle."
There was a pause and a sigh as the gatekeeper pushed the gate open wider. "Stick to the shadows," he whispered. "The guards 'ave gotten more an' more clever lately." The four of us had soon made it into the village and began scuttling against the wall, the shadows cloaking us from the sight of the village guards. Carefully and skillfully, we weaved around guard after guard until we came to a trapdoor behind one of the buildings. The shortest of the group carefully opened it, revealing a dim light below. They motioned me to enter, and slowly but surely I made my way down the cobblestone steps. There was another door ahead, this one more worn down. I watched as the tallest figure gave the door the same knock as with the gate. This time a slot on the door opened and a strange pair of eyes came into view.
"Password?" came a lowly voice from the other side.
"Vengeance," the taller man whispered. After a few seconds, the slot closed and the door opened slowly, revealing what looked like an abandoned tavern. Cobwebs and moss were strewn along the walls, which were badly cracked. The wooden counter towards the far left of the room was in a bad shape, but still stood firmly. The light that I recognized outside came from a fireplace on the other side of the room. The three strangers who helped me removed their hoods, revealing their faces. The taller one was balding with a scar directly above his left brow. His nose stuck out more than anything, and his chin flattened out at the bottom. His skin, in the light of the fireplace, was well-tanned and hairy, especially around the arms.
The second tallest had much darker skin and a ponytail sticking out from the back of his head. There were two green lines under both of his eyes, possibly war paint. He was much leaner than his taller counterpart, and his hands were almost bigger in size.
And the third one surprised me the most. It was a little red-headed girl with freckles adorning her face, which was very dirty. Her cheeks were puffed up and her hair was an absolute mess. I stared at her in shock for a moment before turning to the tallest one and saying, "You let a child go on a dangerous mission like that?"
"That child," the tallest one replied, "is me daughter, Kaila. Of course I let 'er come along." He continued before I had a chance to open my mouth. "I don' believe we introduced ourselves. Name's Reiner. Dat lad, the silent one wit the ponytail, is Jakari. Comes from Sacae, so he says. And what's yer name, priest?"
"Renault," I replied.
"Well Renault, ya caused quite a stir ta get yerself thrown in Nord's dungeon like dat."
"I didn't intend to be a prisoner."
"I know ya didn't. I'm jus' yankin' yer chain."
"What is this place though? Who are all these people?"
Jakari, having stayed silent before, spoke up. "This is the Golden Sands Tavern, or as we like to call it our meeting room."
"The guards don' know dat we're holed up in 'ere at night," Kaila added.
"Your...meeting room?" I asked, completely puzzled.
"Look around ya, mate," Reiner said, clasping a hand on my shoulder. "Ya see all these faces? There are the faces o' people pushed to there limit. Day after day, we toil away in dem mines, workin' our asses to da bone, all fo' what? A few crumbs, a slap on da back, an' rags fo' clothes. This is life in the Western Isles, mate. Ya shut yer mouth and dig, and hopefully ya live ta see another day."
Shut up and dig if you want to live, I thought. Why does that sound all too familiar?
"And those who disobey, what happens to them?" I asked out of curiosity. After a short pause, Reiner took his hand, stuck out his thumb, and slowly slid it across his throat like it was a knife.
"Ya lose yer 'ead," he whispered ominously. That was all I needed to hear. Before I could say anything else though, he added, "Alright priest, time fo' you ta get sum shuteye. Best if ya stay here with her tonight." He pointed to a cloaked figure in the corner of the room. "She owns the place. Jus' do what she says an' stay outta the guards sight when ya leave. Good night lad."
I didn't even get a chance to tell him what I was doing here, that I was trying to find Garret. But the woman that Reiner pointed to seemed to know what I was looking for. She beckoned me to come closer, and, rather reluctant, I slowly shuffled over to her. She leaned into my ear and whispered only one word.
"Arcadia."
I can definitely tell that it's been forever since I last wrote something like this. Again, I apologize for the massive wait, but I promise this series is NOT dead! If you enjoyed, as always leave a review and be sure to follow me on Twitter (codyguliwriting)!