Dark Age

  “Detain anyone that shows signs of rebellion!” he ordered. “Kill anyone that resists being detained!”

  Upon his words only a handful of men kept fighting. Five guards approached me and stepped onto the platform. I had no weapon and lacked the agility I once possessed before my leg had been lost. Resistance was useless.

  Down in the square the last few men fought it out to the bitter end. The guards slaughtered half a dozen men like pigs, rejoicing in finally getting to kill something.

  I stepped back slowly, trying to find a way to escape my five persecutors. More guards joined in and soon I was surrounded by ten. The captain extended his sword to my throat.

  “Your head will give me a fine prize,” he said licking a blood splatter from his lips.

  “Henry, stop!” Anthony said pushing the blade aside, “we need him alive.”

  “Fine,” the captain said and knocked me unconscious with a punch to the face.

  Chapter 33

  My vision was shaky. I could feel my feet dragging over the hard ground. Stress and tension lay in the air. Everything went fast as shapes strode past me, then everything went black. Every few seconds my vision returned, and every time we came closer to the mansion. The boulevard gave away that they took me through the Merchant District.

  The sound of steel caught my ears. A scream. Silence. The door opened and with force they pushed me down the red corridor. They tried to shove me up the stairs, but my damaged leg and unconscious mind did not allow me to make it a single step. Soon they lifted and carried me up. After a few seconds I had passed out again under the pain.

  My senses returned as a bucketful of ice cold water hit my face. I brushed my dripping hair to the side, and observed with sharpened sight the throne room I had been brought to. I was on my knees while a score of soldiers stood at both sides of the spacious hall. Like statues they held their weapons tightly without moving an inch. Few feet ahead of me sat the fragile Inquisitor in noble composure on a golden gothic throne.

  “You have no idea what you created,” the Inquisitor said in a slow furious hiss.

  “I gave them freedom,” I said, “freedom from the lies they have been fed all their lives.”

  The Inquisitor chuckled, “Eight men have died today; seven civilians, and one guard. Many more are wounded. Their blood is on your hands.”

  “They died for freedom,” I said, “it’s a price worth paying.”

  “The ends justify the means,” he said. “Even the noble Blacksmith son believes that death is an acceptable loss at times. Maybe we are not so different after all.”

  “We are not the same,” I said and spit at his feet.

  A guard stepped forward and pulled his sword halfway out, but the Inquisitor raised his hand in the air, “No need for that,” he said. “My friend over here will cooperate sooner or later.”

  “Why would I work with you?”

  “Oh it is not a question. You are already a part of my plan,” he said. “You see, your little stunt out there did exactly what I have been keeping the people from doing. It made them think. You have gained their trust, and now they look towards you for guidance. But where are my manners,” he interjected. “Please get up, there is no need to kneel in front of me. After all we are friends.”

  For a moment he watched me struggle, secretly rejoicing in my excruciating weakness. When my appearance became pitiful, he ordered the men to help me up and give me my cane back.

  “Wonderful, that is much better,” he said while the throne lifted his eyes still above mine. “I think we got off on the wrong foot Adam. We can achieve much together.”

  I stepped onto the first marble stair that led to the throne, lifting my head above his, “I am not working with you.”

  He straightened his back, putting our eyes at level, “Oh Adam,” he said with a melancholic chuckle, “you still don’t understand. There are no more questions, and there are no more options. There is my way, and whether you want it or not, you will take it.”

  “Go ahead,” I said, “Take my life, burn my house, steal my possessions… But you will never own my soul.”

  “Moving, truly,” the Inquisitor said. “I know men like you; I have seen them countless times in my life. Unbreakable, driven, and loyal. And there lies your very weakness.” He snapped his fingers, “Bring them in.”

  The door to the throne room opened and Katrina, Eric and Terric were led in, each with a knife to the back of their neck.

  “Don’t you dare hurt them!” I said taking another step towards the Inquisitor.

  With a signal to his guards they forced me several steps back. “Nobody will get hurt,” he said, “if you do what I ask for.”

  “Spit it out,” I hissed.

  “You have to marry my ward Cecilia,” he said plainly. “Before you ask why, as your expression suggests, I will explain. It is rather obvious.” He lifted his hand slightly and looked at his nails, “The people are more aggressive and rebellious than they ever were. They need to be distracted and regain faith in their leader. A celebration of a size never experienced before will do well in getting their minds off of some ungodly thoughts. Seeing you wed the closest relative of the man you just declared to be the devil will ensure them that you have been wrong with your mindless accusations. On top I will pardon the carpenter and his daughter for the crimes they have committed, proving my good and pure heart.”

  “You will let them free?” I asked.

  “The father may resume his work after we are done here, so that he may pay back his debts to the merchants. The girl will become a nun so that you are not tempted to break your vows to my niece.”

  “What makes you so certain that I will not kill you in your sleep the day I start living in this mansion,” I asked.

  “I knew you would ask that,” he said. “Everyone of your three friends here will have a personal assassin at their side at all times. They will not know who it is, but one of their closest friends will make sure that they die in an ‘accident’ the second you even consider hurting me in the slightest bit.”

  “You are bluffing,” I hissed.

  He raised his voice, “Am I Adam? Are you really willing to risk their lives? Have you already forgotten about Stephan?”

  Pain shot into my heart. I looked into their faces. Katrina was shaking, Terric was solemn, and Eric had fear in his eyes.

  “I know you do not care about your own life,” the Inquisitor said. “But you would never want any of them to get hurt.” Slowly he extended his hand towards me.

  It was the only choice I could have made. I had lost too many loved ones already. With clenched teeth I took his hand.

  The Inquisitor held my hand tightly, laughing quietly. He looked at me, “And so man had sold his soul to the devil.”

  I freed my hand from his grasp and walked towards my friends, “So what happens next?”

  “For now we will let the people sleep in peace and let them forget about today. Come morning we will prepare the stake for the girl. Before the executioner sets her on fire, I shall be there in person and let her ask the Lord for forgiveness. She will join the convent and by the end of the week you shall be married to Cecilia. Then, finally, everything will be back to normal.”

  I turned to face the Inquisitor, “Is there anything else you need?”

  He looked around, “No, we are done here. Guards, let the carpenter go, bring the commander to the gate, and lock the other two back in the dungeon. I don’t want those two going anywhere till tomorrow.”

  They tried to grab me forcefully by the arms but I pushed them off. “Are you so slow that you need to detain a cripple?” I hissed at them, and slowly made my way down the stairs. Terric supported my shoulder to take a bit of the burden off my leg.

  “Stay strong my friend,” he whispered. “Don’t give up hope. The fight is not lost yet.”

  “You’ve heard him,” I responded so the guards would not hear, “he has us all at knife point. I am done fighting Terric. Every ti
me I try to resist him, I receive an even more powerful reaction. This cycle of vengeance needs to stop.”

  “Move faster,” a guard growled from behind us.

  As we reached the bottom of the stairs I said my last words to Terric, knowing that things would never be the same, when or if we ever saw another again. “For once I will do what he says. It will not give me freedom. Nay, it will cage me in a reality that lay far outside my imagination. But it will give me peace; peace of mind and heart. As long as I live he has a reason to keep you all alive. That is all I can really ask for.”

  They tugged on Terric’s arm to which he responded with a frightening glare. Slowly the guards stepped back and gave us space. He laid his hand on my shoulder and smiled faintly, “Whatever happens, Adam, do what your heart tells you. It’s a rare and noble one. Stay true and never betray it.” He embraced me and left.

  Eric bid us farewell before we were driven back down into the dungeon. A last time he held his daughter, his jewel, tightly in his arms knowing that come morning she would be locked inside the convent, never to see him again.

  Back in the prison cell we cowered closely together. My arms were wrapped around her thin waist, holding her cold shaking hands in the center. For a while we just sat there in silence, with no sound but the occasional coughs and whimpers from the other prison cells. My cheek was pressed against the side of her head, and with deep breaths I inhaled the sweet rose scent of her auburn hair.

  “I can feel your heartbeat,” she whispered and huddled closer.

  I twisted my head and kissed her cheek. I always thought that if I survived the Guard, we would have a prosperous future ahead of us. But all we had was the night. There was no tomorrow.

  “I want to die like this,” she said. “Right here, with you close to me.”

  “Don’t say that,” I hissed. “You will live and I will get you out of that convent.”

  “No, Adam. I rather die with the sound of your heartbeat, and the warmth and protection of your arms, than in the solitude of a cold temple.”

  “You will not die. I will come for you,” I said. “We’ve made it so far, and overcome so many obstacles.”

  “You won’t be able to this time; the Inquisitor will keep his eye on you,” she said. “We have come so far you say, yet we sit here in a dark and dirty prison cell. We have fought enough in this life. I don’t want to spend the rest of my days in the convent, Adam. I am happy just to be here with you. Just promise me to find happiness, no matter what might happen in the future.” She turned her head and came close with her nose touching mine, “Now stop worrying, silly. This might be our last night.”

  Morning came and we were ripped from our slumber by the creaking of the prison door. As we lay wrapped in each other’s arms, my first impulse was to hold and protect her from the coming guards. Ruthlessly they pulled us out of the cell and drove us in two opposite directions without the chance for another word.

  “Where are you taking her,” I asked the guard that led me outside to the square.

  “A priest will hold a final confession with her, so that her suffering in hell may be shorter.”

  Of all the people, she was the last to go to hell. Of that I was certain.

  The square was quickly crowded. Events like these were rare; few dared to break the law of God. I made my way through the masses and heard them whisper: Talk of rebellion, notions of fear, and just a bit of hope. Most saw the execution as a response to yesterday’s uprising, and immediately returned to their old loyalty towards the Inquisition. They were just too afraid of the unfettered power of the Inquisitor.

  Others saw it as unjust and were sparked even further in their hate against the regime. I heard them whisper about plans and plots. But my mind had little space for the citizens’ talk. I was just waiting for the girl of my dreams to once again be just a dream.

  The fanfares sounded, and outside they led her. Her eyes were frightened but her composure was calm. She seemed determined, yet sad. The executioner followed her closely. His body was big and bulky while his face and identity remained unknown to God under a black bag.

  Screams of applause and opposition mingled in one loud chaotic cloud of noise. With my cane I pushed the spectators aside and reached almost the front. The executioner wrapped her hands behind the stake. She inhaled deeply and smiled towards the sky.

  The torch lit up in the hand of the executioner. And the act began.

  “Wait!” ordered an old powerful voice.

  The executioner turned, and met the Inquisitor in surprise.

  “I will spare this girl’s life!” he announced stepping next to Katrina. In a loud booming voice he spoke, “Some of you say I am ambitious. Some of you say I take your freedoms. Some of you say I am a murderer. Would an ambitious man not seek to extend his rule? I’ve never ventured to leave this valley, for I am not ambitious. Would a man that takes freedoms not lock up any criminal in a prison? I let the carpenter go so he can pursue a lawful life, for I do not take freedoms. Would a murderer spare a life? I will spare this girl’s life, for I am no murderer.”

  The crowd went quiet.

  “He is right,” they whispered. “He is no evil man,” they said. “How could we ever have doubted him?” one said. “Shame on us all,” another responded.

  “Girl, I spare your life in the name of the Inquisition. To cleanse your soul you shall join the convent and live a sedentary life away from sin,” he raised his hand for her to kiss the holy signet ring.

  Quietly she muttered something. Everyone hushed to hear her.

  “What did you say?” the Inquisitor asked.

  “Go to hell,” she said and spit on his ring.

  Consumed by anger, he turned around, grabbed the torch from the executioner’s hand and dropped it on the dry hay at the foot of the stake. In a blaze the stake lit up and her screams filled the air.

  I punched my way to the front. There was pain in my leg, but it was nothing compared to what my eyes saw. I was mere feet from her. My hands clenched the fence, ready to jump over onto her side. Forcefully a guard pushed me into the crowd. Another held me back. I struggled against their power.

  There was no control, for I had lost it. My body shook and as much as I wanted to scream the air just would not fill my lungs. Her eyes met mine in between the shimmering flames that so ruthlessly licked on her soft skin. Fire, the damned gift of the gods.

  Her screams burned as harshly in my ears as the flames on her skin. With hands covering my ears, I tried to block out the violent noise that dug into my heart like a dagger. As much as it muffled the sound I could not help but realize that her screams formed my name.

  Chapter 34

  The drunken screams of the people rang through the air as my eyes fixated on the flickering flame of a candle. Around me the richest men of the city celebrated my impending wedding in a festive hall inside the mansion. I gave them my physical attendance, but my mind was somewhere else. Every time I saw a fire or flame, my body froze and once again presented me with the image and pain of the execution. It did not feel real. Reality itself seemed farfetched. I did not know whether it was losing my love or the fact that I was becoming a part of the Inquisitor’s family, but everything withing me repulsed the idea that I was not dreaming.

  Cecilia sat at my side at the end of the long table. Lightly she squeezed my hand helping me return to the present. I looked at her and smiled faintly.

  “Adam?” asked a man at my side.

  Confused I shook my head and asked what he wanted.

  “I was asking if you could tell me about that eventful adventure in the mines, I’ve heard so much about your bravery.”

  With subliminal disdain I recounted the lies we had agreed upon to be the truth. It had turned into a routine, as I not only knew the storyline, but already anticipated the questions they would ask.

  The night carried on, and the men got more drunk and jolly by the hour. In contrast I grew more sober and pensive by the minute.

&
nbsp; Cecilia must have noticed and leaned in close to my ear, “I hate this festival. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Can we just leave?” I asked.

  “We are getting married tomorrow. They expect us to disappear together.”

  With a quick glance around the room, I got up and followed her closely. Her hand gently supported my back, making my way up the stairs easier. It was a foreign touch, and while I appreciated her kindness and devotion she simply was not the person I wanted to hold in my arms.

  “Here we are,” she said opening the door to her chambers. A fine rose scent lay in the candle lit room, reminding me even more of the girl I had lost. Outside, the rain was pouring like hail against the stone. Lightning struck across the horizon momentarily and vanished to the booming noise of thunder.

  “I know you do not want this wedding,” she said. “And I know you do not want me.”

  I opened my mouth wanting to comfort her and tell her that she was wrong but she raised her hand.

  “I know I am not her, and never will be. She was good with the common people, while I have never even left this mansion. She was driven by goodwill, while I am driven by knowledge which causes my own arrogance. Just know that I am truly sorry for all that has happened. All I ask for is that you do not hate me.”

  I stepped forward and took her in my arms. She deserved better, I thought. As I held her I could feel her body both tensing and relaxing at the same time. Her face pressed against the side of my neck. Warmth emerged in her until she almost felt hot.

  Slowly she took a step back with her hands still grasping my sides. Her eyes had a glossy taint. The corners of her mouth slowly lifted. It caught me by surprise to see her so overwhelmed by my little gesture. I realized that nobody had ever held her.

  The spark that already existed inside her had turned into a wild fire. I had given her far more than comfort.

  Slowly she stepped closer to me. I knew what she was about to do. But had I pushed her away at this point I would have broken her heart. It was obvious that she had not lived outside the mansion. Her approach was packed with uncertainty. With delicate care she laid her hand on my cheek, all the while her eyes almost seemed to flicker. Observing her was magical. She looked at me with such devotion and tenderness. To her I was not just a commoner. To her I was a king.