The Journal of Renault, Bishop of Valor
Chapter 10
After a considerable break, not only is this series finally at the ten chapter mark but I am now committing myself to writing once more (at least until December 26th when I might go back to procrastinating)! It's been a blast writing this series so far (even though I went into a hiatus for a part of it lol) and I can't wait to write the next part of it.
Anyways, I've compiled my most important links into one website address using Linktree! Link is in my bio!
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Hope you enjoy chapter 10!
As the morning sun broke over the horizon, I rose from my bedroll and began gathering my things. The name "Arcadia" kept resonating in my head as I hastily packed my things into my rucksack. Just then, I was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.
"Leavin' already?" Reiner said in an uncharacteristically soft voice.
"Sorry, but I have a mission as I'm sure you remember," I replied. Perhaps that sounded too harsh. As the words escaped my mouth I turned my head back to my preparations.
"Fair enough. If ya need anythin', gimme a shout."
As Reiner started to walk away, I whipped my head around and said, "Reiner...what do you know of Arcadia?" He stopped in his tracks and, without turning around, sighed and shook his head.
"Not much, but if ya ask dat lady I showed ya last night, she might be able to tell ye." Before I could answer back, he quickly shuffled out of the room as if I had just embarrassed him or something. What in the name of all that's holy was that about, I thought to myself. He sounded concerned, as if I touched upon a bad subject. Regardless, I quickly finished my preparations and made my way out into the dining area. Before I could open the door, the old lady from last night grabbed my arm and pulled me back, shushing me and guiding me slowly to my bedroll.
"What is this about?" I grunted, confused and irritated. She didn't answer me. Instead, she lifted the bedroll I had slept on, revealing a trapdoor (I suppose that explains why my body felt like it had slept on a rock last night). She pointed to it with a crooked finger and hissed, "Hide. Quickly now!"
"What's going on?" I asked again.
"No time. Danger is near. Hide! And remember the name Arcadia."
I quickly scrambled down the trapdoor, unsure of what danger the old lady was mentioning. The catacombs smelt disgusting, almost like an unbearable scent of musk and rotting flesh. Moments later, I heard voices from above the trapdoor, one of which sounded all too familiar: Nord, and a group of his soldiers no doubt. I knew I had to make haste before he found me in here, so I quickly slogged through the smelly catacombs, praying to Saint Elimine I wouldn't vomit. As I continued down the lengthy corridor, I felt something wet graze my feet. The smell of the liquid was just as bad as the corridor itself. Urine, I thought, holding back from gagging again. Then it hit me; I was wading through human waste, and these catacombs were actually for sewage. I was stepping in the feces and fluids of humans, a thought that made me gag even more. Regardless, I had to soldier on not just to escape the guards looking for me, but to escape this ungodly collection of smells.
Soon I began to see light at the end of the tunnel and staggered towards it, nearly tripping on a nest of rats that made their nest close to the earthen walls. Finally, I reached open air again just outside the village, coughing and wheezing as the foul odor of the sewage was replaced by the fresh scent of summer air. With haste I discarded my footwear, now ruined by the waste, and pressed on, the heat of the sand piercing my feet. It was painful without a doubt, but I could not stop now, not with a band of blood-thirsty men chasing after me.
After what seemed like many hours of running, I was exhausted, hungry, and aching. My legs felt like they couldn't go on, and at this point death was certainly a possibility. It felt as though no amount of praying would save me from this. But then, I looked up and saw the most magnificent sight before me: a castle, and a very large one no doubt. I stumbled closer to the gates as if I had no control over my legs. Both guards began to advance towards me suspiciously and, before they could utter a word, I fell to the ground face-first. The next thing I knew, I heard shouting as everything turned black around me.
When I came to, my head was aching terribly, as if I had taken a very nasty knock. A wet rag fell from my forehead and into my hand as I looked around the room, puzzled to say the least. I was inside the castle, lying in a bed in what I could only assume to be the guest room. Suddenly the door swung slowly open, and an heavily-armored man entered the room. Judging from his looks, he certainly had more hair than face, which had strange blue marks painted across the eye line. War paint, I thought. A warrior.
"You'll excuse the mess I hope," he said with an odd flare in his voice, pointing to the hastily-stacked chairs and books. "Our last guest, a friend of the Baron, had passed suddenly before you arrived and we have yet to remove his personal belongings." He paused as he fiddled with one of the books, a book that I recognized almost immediately: "An Apothecary's Guide to Medicinal Tonics". Yoder used to have that book long ago.
"Oh, but where are my manners?" the man chuckled, shaking my hand. "I am known as Sir Gailla, and you, my friend, are in the city of Jutes."
So, I had not been captured by Nord's men after all. I suppose that's a relief, although I had an anxious feeling that he and his men were bound to search this place as well. I groaned as the pain returned to my head, this time more egregious than before.
"You really should rest," Gailla insisted. "You're not in the best of conditions."
"I'm fine...really," I lied. I was not fine. I was in dire pain, but I needed to get to Arcadia as quickly as possible. I had no time for these hospitality games. "You mentioned a Baron?"
"Ah yes. My uncle, Baron von Thaleis. He erm...is quite busy right now as you can imagine."
"Grieving over the loss of his scholar friend?"
"Oh no. He's busy with Roartz."
"And who might I ask is he?"
He took a deep breath. "Sir Roartz, or rather I should say Prime Minister Roartz, is a noble of Etruria on a...business trip of sorts. He's come to Jutes to discuss further plans to purchase the mines at Mount Eburacum."
Mount Eburacum. Even though I spent only a short time there, the very thought of it disgusts me. "What does he want with the mines?"
"I'm...not allowed to talk specifics about-"
"Forget I asked," I cut in, shaking my head. "Curiosity precedes me."
"Oh, not at all," Gailla responded with a slight chuckle. "If I'm honest, the two of them haven't been expecting visitors today."
"I apologize-"
"No need, my dear friend, no need."
Just then, one of the castle guards marched slowly into the room. He bowed respectively and said, "Forgive me, milord, but your uncle the Baron wants to speak with you...and him." He pointed to me, leering as if I was guilty of some crime. In that second I thought something was amiss, but Gailla looked unconcerned. The noble nodded and stood up.
"Looks like rest will have to wait," Gailla said. "Come now, best not to keep my uncle waiting. He can be...impatient."
The room Baron von Thaleis and Prime Minister Roartz were in was adorned with several bookshelves, paintings, and mounted animal heads. At the forefront of the room was a large fireplace, recently used by the look of it but not in use now. Strange how a castle located in one of the hotter places on Elibe would have a fireplace, I thought solemnly. Below my feet was a lovely handcrafted rug with a rudimentary design of ovals collapsing into the middle. The air smelt like some sort of incense involving pine and elderberry, a scent more welcoming than that of the catacombs back in Eburacum. The two gentlemen turned to face us both, allowing me to grab a look at their faces. The Baron had a thick moustache curled around his lips and a series of pock marks adorning his face, which was littered with folds and wrinkles. His dark gray hair was trimmed very short and well-groomed around the edges, and his clothes showed no signs of wear, as if they were either freshly sewn or pressed. On two of the fingers on his left hand were silver rings, one of them I could tell from a glance being a wedding band.
As for Prime Minister Roartz, he dressed more like a knight rather than a Prime Minister. His hair, while lighter than the grayish tone of the Baron's, was longer and reached just below his neckline. While the Baron had a prominent moustache, Roartz had a goatee covering his pointed chin, and whereas the Baron's nose was smooth at the edge, the Prime Minister's pointed outwards like a raven's beak. The looks on both men screamed bureaucracy and power, something I felt would play a role in the events thereafter. I took a deep breath and prepared to greet them both, my head still aching rather annoyingly, but as I began to open my mouth the Baron turned toward his guards and mouthed the words "Leave us". The two guards nodded, marching out of the room and shutting the doors behind them, leaving the four of us to our conversation.
This may look a bit short (and definitely feels like it) but I'm going to continue this in a second part, so stay tuned for that! And as always, don't forget to follow and review if you like this series!