Page 28 of Antioch


  Jacob said, “If you’re going to kick a man there, why not just kick him in the peaches?”

  Ditch paused. Then he leaned forward and started cackling with his rapid-fire, raucous laughter, like a hyena in a henhouse. It distracted Michael and gave Harold an opening.

  “Touch-point!”

  “God’s mercy!”

  Ditch giggled through an explanation about the fight business for Jacob. “Cause that’s against the rules, man! In the street, yeah, kick ‘em there all day, but nobody’s gonna pay to see a couple guys bustin’ each other in the balls!” Jacob laughed along with him.

  ***

  A sun-bleached skeleton was tangled in the thorn bushes to the west. Its tattered clothing had outlasted its flesh. Once, it had been the smoke’s instrument of death, a dreaded bauran, but those only consumed themselves. Over time, its nature and exposure had worn it too spare even to pull itself free.

  John’s pinto passed the skeleton coming in toward Antioch. The rider slowed to have a look. Under a hooded cloak, he wore a sleek, black uniform with a silver cross threaded into the chest. A rapier hung from his hip. He spurred the horse on.

  The closer he came to the wall, the larger it looked. He trotted up next to its eighteen-foot height and realized he wouldn’t be able to jump it even if he stood on Sarah’s back - he’d caused much dismay by naming the horse that. He’d have to find another way in.

  It took him an hour to ride around the entire town. There wasn’t a single tree close enough to help him over, and the four gates - North, South, East and West - were each as unscalable as the rest. Each also had a cord leading up above to a bell. He guessed those were for ringing to get in but he didn’t want to announce his presence like that, not until he knew for sure if that old rascal Abraham was in there.

  He rode to the orchard in the north and got down to share some apples with his horse and to think. It was in the same season of the year before that he’d first come to Antioch after losing his father and sister to the plague. He was that year older, taller and thicker. And, hidden in the shadows of his hood, Daniel’s eyes had lost some of their froggishness.

  The north gate would be the closest to the Cauldron, where he wanted to go first. He trusted Fergus. All he had to do was figure out a way to get in. So, he sat there until dusk, eating apples, feeding apples to Sarah and staring at the wall without a clue. He’d almost given up and was about to ring the bell when a marble-mouthed voice startled him from behind.

  “Are you going in?”

  Daniel spun to his feet in a whirl of cloak and silver, his rapier drawn before he’d seen or asked who it was. Barabbas backed up, eyes wide in a shade between blue and amber. A sparse scraggle of a beard was coming in around his neck and didn’t hide his teeth yet. From far away and in the fading light, they could have been boys of the same age, one groomed in a uniform and the other wild in furs.

  Daniel lowered his sword and frowned. “What do you want, gunder?”

  Barabbas sat down, scratched and thought for a moment. “I want my own pride. I want to sit in the tree.”

  Daniel turned away disdainfully, sheathing his elegant weapon. “Go sit in a tree then. I don’t have time for a gunder like you. I’m on an important mission.” While Barabbas contemplated what would happen if he tried to sit in Apoc’s tree, Daniel stared at the wall and recalled those first words: Are you going in?

  “Gunder, do you know how to get into the city?”

  “Yes.”

  Daniel waited. Then he sighed. Then he lost patience and said, “How?!”

  Barabbas queered at him. Having already dissociated that question from the last, he wondered what the little man meant by it. It was such a broad thing to ask, how. How... how… how what?

  “Fwah! How do I get inside?!”

  Barabbas was shocked. He’s listening out loud! “Jump over the wall.”

  Daniel groaned. “I can’t jump over that wall. It’s too high for me.”

  “Ring the bell.”

  “I can’t do that either!”

  He can’t ring a bell? “Are you dookussed?”

  “What? No! I don’t even know what that means!” Stupid gunders and their stupid words that don’t mean anything! I’ll just have to figure it out on my own. Daniel settled his gaze on the wall again as though it was a masterful opponent in a game of strategy.

  Barabbas was bamboozled. The little man wasn’t dookussed but couldn’t ring a bell or jump over the wall. It was a difficult set of problems. How is he going to get in? Hmm… how… how… Oh! The little man might know. “How are you going to get inside?”

  Daniel threw his hands up and shouted all of his words into one. “Aaahstupidgundergetawayfromme!”

  Barabbas hissed and cut out of there in a scramble. He stopped three trees down, peering back. The little man is dangerous.

  Daniel gave up. He’d just have to ring the bell and take his chances. If Abraham comes, there’s gonna be a fight, and I’m ready for it. He took up Sarah’s reins and led her to the gate. Then, right when he was about to pull the cord, he got an idea.

  “Psst! Gunder!”

  From back where he’d stayed watching, Barabbas said, “What?”

  “Come jump over the wall and open the door for me.”

  There was a pause. Then, “Ok.”

  Barabbas shot out of the trees, kicking up leaves, vaulted into one step off the wall and then easily over the top. He landed with a soft thump on the other side. The guardhouse and the watch platform were empty. He had the gate unbarred and opened in a minute.

  Daniel walked his horse through and said, “Thanks,” in passing. Barabbas scratched and waved. Neither of them considered closing the gate.

  ***

  Daniel left Sarah by the smokehouse and crept like an assassin toward the kitchen. The doorway glowed in the darkening night. He pulled his hood back and listened. Fergus was talking inside.

  “Hoo-hoo! Then our little pixies go to work and scream us up a batch of good dough for the baking!”

  “Grandpa! I’m not a dummy. There’s no wizards or pixies.”

  Daniel frowned, guessing that was one of Davies’ boys.

  Fergus said, “Oh, ho. There’s not, is there? Well, what do you think makes the bread rise then, not-a-dummy?”

  “God?”

  “He’s the one that makes the pixies, isn’t he? Put some good lungs on them too. Just listen… Help me! Heeelp meee! Oh, no! Did you hear that? Poor devils.”

  The little boy laughed. “That was you, Grandpa!”

  Fergus chuckled.

  As they spooned yeast into the dough-bowls to bloom, the little boy asked, “Grandpa, is there really magic?” He didn’t think of hospital as magic of course. He’d been around that all his life, just like everyone else in the fellowship.

  Fergus said, “Sure there is! Here, let me show you some. Give us a hug.”

  Daniel guessed from the following silence that they were hugging and thought he heard Fergus whisper something. Then the little boy said, “I love you too, Grandpa.”

  Daniel felt less then like he was being cautious and more like he was spying. He stepped into the kitchen and knocked on the door. When they looked up, he raised a black-gloved finger to his lips and went, “Shh…”

  Fergus beamed at him and exclaimed, “Daniel!” as loud as anything.

  Daniel’s eyes bulged and he started waving frantically. “SSSHHH!”

  Fergus laughed, went over and embraced him. “What are you doing, boy? You’re hissing like Barabbas!”

  “Is Abraham around?”

  “What? No! No one’s seen hide-nor-hair of him since the lot of you left! I’m so glad to see you!”

  Daniel exhaled and got another hug. The little boy stared up at him from behind the butcher table, not placing the black-clad stranger as the one who’d punched and spat on his father a year before, but getting a bad feeling from him all the same.

  Fergus said, “Where’s John?”


  “He’s back in Golgotha.”

  Fergus realized then that Golgotha had survived and that other towns might have survived as well. He thought about what a dangerous trip it must have been for Daniel. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m on a secret mission. I’m here to get a book from the church.”

  Fergus frowned. “Does John know where you are?”

  Daniel paused long enough to reveal the truth. Then he lied. “He’s the one that sent me.”

  Fergus let it go. Daniel was safe right then, which was the most important thing. Instead of confronting him for the lie, Fergus said, “You must be starving. Let me make you something to eat.”

  Daniel ate there in the kitchen and then out in the common room too (which was quiet compared to the time he’d spent there but much busier than when Michael’s bell used to ring.) He answered questions from all sides wherever he went. Margot squealed, “Ooh!” hugged him and asked about John. Everyone asked about bauran. Harold was there, desperate to know if any King’s Men had made it to Golgotha and Captain sat smoking and listening.

  Daniel told that John was fine and sent everyone reeling with the news that they’d seen neither a bauran nor a king’s soldier the whole year. There were hands on heads across the room and a general discussion about what it all meant. Daniel removed himself from it. He’d found something more important, Sarah, the girl. She was more beautiful than he remembered.

  Daniel offered her a chair. She was happy to sit with him and to talk, ready to catch up like old friends. She didn’t ask many questions, though, and kept on and on about some boy named Edward, who Daniel didn’t want to hear about.

  Daniel strove to impress her. “I won’t be here for long. I’ve got a big job to do back in Golgotha. I’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Wow, that’s neat! Edward’s got a big job too. He works the church’s stable for Michael. He was doing it even before the wall was finished. Andalynn said it was very brave of him to go out there every day through the graveyard, and she’s the bravest person I know, so that’s really saying something.”

  Edward... “I’ve been riding and camping by myself for two weeks. I didn’t have a wall.”

  Sarah gasped and covered her mouth. “You must be tired! Where are you going to sleep? I’m in your old room now, Andalynn and Biggs have mine. Ooh, I know, maybe you could stay with Edward! I’m sure he’d let you. He’s ever so generous.”

  Edward again? Daniel pointed at himself. “I’m on a secret mission.”

  “Really? What is it?” Sarah loved a good secret.

  Daniel divulged it readily. “I’m here to get a book that will help us kill a devil in Golgotha. It’s an evil rascal called a gaffot. Everyone is depending on me.” He puffed out his chest and made himself look important.

  “Wow! That is a big job! But, at least you don’t have any bauran there, like you said. Nothing could be worse than them. You can be thankful for that no matter what devils you’ve got.” Sarah nodded wisely and then started thinking about Edward.

  Daniel was annoyed. The conversation was not going as planned. It was hard for him but he didn’t care for any more chit-chat so he got right to the point. “I’m not just here for a book, Sarah. I came all this way for you, to take you back with me. We’re supposed to get married, remember?”

  Her mouth fell open.

  The room began to listen.

  Daniel said, “What’s wrong?”

  Sarah squirmed. “Ooh… uh, I… Daniel, wow, that wasn’t… eeuh.” Aware of the silence around them, she lowered her voice. “I’m seventeen… You’re thirteen…”

  “Fourteen.” He didn’t know why she was being so stupid. He was a year older too.

  Sarah froze. Then she rose slowly out her chair. “I just remembered. I have to go upstairs.” She turned her back on him and scooted away, a straight line of uncomfortable girl.

  Daniel didn’t understand at all. Recalling some advice Judas had given him, he stood up and shouted, “I named my horse after you!” as if that was delightful and would bring her right back.

  Sarah accelerated, up and out of sight onto the second floor’s landing. Daniel dropped his hands to his sides, confused, and stayed that way for a long time, watching that spot on the stairs.

  Everyone else drew together, cringing and whispering, their greater concerns briefly muted in that moment of humiliating rejection. Then Daniel overheard their conversations. The whispers revealed that Sarah had been courting Edward for some time, that Fergus had been baking his wicked apple pies for them left and right, and that she hadn’t ever shown much interest in John’s nephew.

  Captain strolled over to Fergus, blew smoke and said low, “Boy’s named a horse after your daughter.”

  Fergus nodded sadly and reached out for the pipe. “I guess he has.”

  “Is that something you do around here?”

  “No.”

  “Mmm, seems a dubious compliment to pay a young lady...” Captain tapped himself on the nose. “Still, better than a boat I suppose.”

  Daniel slumped into his chair and stared at his empty plate, just beginning to feel like a fool. Then he covered his face - he knew it was coming and he couldn’t stop it - he wept in front of everyone.

  ***

  The church door opened and Michael looked up from the round table where he wrote by the hearth’s light and a candle. He’d been translating script into Meroan every evening after Andalynn left. Pillars of books surrounded him on the floor, twice the number that originally came out of the back room. They’d been bringing up more from Ezekiel’s tomb.

  Harold walked in out of the night with Daniel, whom Michael didn’t recognize right away in that black and silver uniform. Harold said, “This boy has just arrived from Golgotha. He says he knows you.” Daniel frowned at the introduction.

  Then Michael knew who he was. “Daniel!” He hurried over to take his hand, asking right away about John. Daniel liked that much better and told everything as he had at the Cauldron. Michael darkened almost immediately, listening to the rest with cold scrutiny.

  When Daniel finished, Michael said, “Harold, would you mind giving us a moment alone?”

  Harold did mind. He wanted to know what Michael was going to do. He wanted to explore beyond the wall and to find out if anyone in the north had survived. But, he also had a soldier’s respect for authority and Michael was the Lord of Antioch.

  Harold said, “Certainly. I’ll just take a few ledgers with me to practice the script.” Michael nodded, keeping a hard look on Daniel, who was starting to get nervous. Harold collected his things and closed the door as he left.

  As soon as they were alone, Michael said, “You’re lying.”

  “No I’m not, I…”

  “Don’t lie to me! John would never have sent you all that way by yourself. Tell me the truth.”

  Daniel paused, about to lie again, but Michael’s glowering disapproval frightened him. “Ok, you’re right. He didn’t send me.”

  “Does he know where you are!?”

  “No. I didn’t tell him, but…”

  “He must be beside himself! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? No! No, of course you don’t! How could you, you careless child.” Michael radiated anger and disappointment. He could only hope John hadn’t left his post to look for Daniel. No, John wouldn’t do that.

  Daniel felt about to cry again. Not in front of Michael, please, no… The whole trip was turning out to be horrible. “I’m going back! He just really needs that book. I was afraid he’d come after me. That’s why I didn’t tell him where I...”

  “Why would you be afraid of John? What’s happened between the two of you?”

  “No! That’s not what I meant! I was afraid to tell him because I know he can’t leave Golgotha and he wouldn’t’ve let me go if I asked. I heard him talking to Fagan about the book, but they couldn’t come to get it, because of the smoke. So I came to get it for them.”

  It didn’t sound like the who
le story, but Michael saw some sense in it. If there was something vital in that book, if they did need it in Golgotha, Daniel would have been the only one capable of coming after it, provided he’d learned anything from his master. “You can open the way?”

  Daniel said, “Yes,” though he often wished he couldn’t.

  “Well, that’s something at least. You weren’t completely defenseless. Can you pull?” That skill was more complicated. He doubted Daniel could do it. Andalynn, though a rapid study, was still in the practicing stages of it.

  Daniel looked away, wiping tears out of his eyes.

  Michael saw the truth. “It’s more difficult to do for someone else than it is to do for yourself, isn’t it?”

  The boy choked up.

  Michael was disgusted. “Are you crying? Stop that!”

  “I can’t! It’s my stupid path. I cry all the time now. I hate it!” Daniel hid his face and did everything he could to stop. Then he cried even more because it didn’t matter; he’d already looked like a fool in front of everyone.

  Michael paused, understanding. A path could be strong and difficult to control for a long time after awakening, especially so without diligent practice. He’d forgotten about that because Andalynn’s was so unusually calm. “What is it, some kind of sadness?”

  Daniel sniffled into his elbow. “Sorrow.”

  Michael pitied him with a sigh. It wasn’t hard to guess why Daniel would have a path like that. And, being so young, he would grow into a man under a cloud of its influence.

  “Don’t look at me like that! It’s not my fault!”

  “I know. Sit down.” Michael motioned to a chair at the table and went to one of his pillars of books. He lifted five off the top, set them aside to preserve the order and then picked up two more, one in each hand. “So, you’ve got a gaffot in Golgotha, do you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Michael nodded. “It’s always something. I’ve this one copied into Meroan as well. You’ll be able to read it on your way back, unless John’s taught you the script, of course. Then I’d prefer to hold on to the translation.”

  “No, he hasn’t taught me, but I can’t read Meroan either, so it doesn’t matter.”

  Again Michael pitied him. He put the book of script in front of Daniel and returned the other to its place. “Ask him to. He taught me, you know.” Michael went to a different stack, pulled out a different kind of book and sat next to Daniel. “I want you to take this one as well. It was the first thing I thought to translate when I started doing all of this. Have John read it to you.”

 
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