Chương 47: Survivor's Guilt
When Amelica and I entered the common room together, hand-in-hand, the patrons stared at us with shock and disbelief; their eyebrows were raised but none dared to raise his voice in disapproval. My girlfriend's hard stare back at them made the patrons keep their lips sealed.
I nodded politely to the patrons as I walked past them and made my way to my usual table at the back. I caught many furious looks but smiled politely in return. I didn't want to enrage them further and escalate it to a bar fight. At least not until after I broke my fast. When I arrived at my table, I took the seat against the wall; I unfastened my butterfly-adorned scabbard from my belt and placed the scabbard within easy reach on the table.
Amelica disappeared into the kitchen to start her morning shift.
As I waited for her to bring my breakfast, I looked around the room. The town people still kept to themselves while occasionally glancing in my direction. Many glances were directed at the scabbard on the table as well. I didn't mind the extra attention so long as I didn't end up encountering the next Ebenthal here in this room. With my luck, though, it may well happen.
My girlfriend interrupted my silent thought with a big bowl of chicken noodle soup, a buttered roll, and a cup of honey mead. She smiled at me and swayed her hips as she slowly sauntered back into the kitchen.
I caught a few scowls from the patrons and shrugged helplessly. After all, Amelica pursued me rather than the other way around. And if anybody chose to protest against our relationship, then he could challenge me to a duel; I would be more than happy to show the town people here that the sword issued by my dojo was earned through my swordsmanship rather than purchased with the coin. Some male patrons stared at the scabbard again before finally turning their attention elsewhere.
Frankly, I was half-disappointed that none of them decided to challenge me to a duel. I was confident in my swordsmanship. These farmers, traders, and craftsmen were no threat to me. Furthermore, I was sure that word had spread regarding my one-on-one fight with the wererat boss, and these common folk understood that they were no match for me in a fight. Seeing that my soup was getting cold, I dismissed my thoughts of these vanquished rivals for Amelica's attention and focused instead on my meal.
When I was finished with breakfast, I hurried back to my room and put on my white robe. I made sure everything was locked and went down the stairs. As I passed by the common room on my way out of the building, I heard more mutterings as the patrons stared at my white robe. I guessed they were unaware of my association with the Church of Britannia; now, they had even less reason to challenge me since I had the backing of the Church and, by extension, the Watch too. Life was truly unfair for these folks. I grinned inwardly at the thought and made my way to the church building.
When I passed by the Public Square, I heard a familiar voice yelling. I looked around until I found the source—it was Sister Maisen! She was dressed in full plate mail armor and carried a tower shield and a long sword. My magic sense activated and I saw that everything on her was magical; I ignored the notification as I pondered the significance of her equipment. However, the scabbard wasn't adorned with butterflies. And the sword was different—it had a blue gem on its hilt. She was watching the Watchmen practice swordplay, offering them instructions and correcting their forms.
I jogged over to her.
When Maisen saw my approach, she told her students, "Continue." She walked over to me with a frown. "When did you join the church?" the formidable warrior asked with scrunched eyebrows but otherwise an unreadable expression on her face.
"Why are you wearing that Watchman equipment? Where's your sword?" I peppered her with questions.
Maisen quickly held up her hand. "I don't have time to explain everything right now; it's a long story. If you're really a member of the clergy, then you need to hurry over to the church for your morning assignment. We'll catch up at lunch unless you finish your church assignment sooner. Now go!" She shoved me gently in the back toward the direction of the church building and then turned away from me.
I stared at her back for a moment. I wanted to yell a snappy comeback at her but nothing came to mind. After all, Maisen was right—I needed to go to church, not for my assignment, but to find Enab and get my money and pin back. Following her advice, I jogged northward through the Public Square. During my jog, I noticed young men in white robe busy cleaning cages and removing crimson stains from the cage bars and floors. The sight of dried blood immediately triggered my painful memories of last night. My heart started pounding faster and I could barely breathe. I felt dizzy. I stopped moving and knelt down as my mind was lost in a sea of vertigo. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths to calm my nerves.
"Are you okay, Brother?"
I looked up and saw an unexpected face—Enab!
Recognizing me, the incognito demon knelt down next to me and his head was on my level. Enab leaned closer and whispered, "I'm disappointed to discover that you're so squeamish at seeing blood. How will you lead your armies to battle in the future?" He shook his head for emphasis.
"My home world is a lot more peaceful," I replied defensively.
"Is it really?" Enab's eyes glowed red as he chuckled at the notion. "It seems to me that your so-called 'modern technology' can destroy the world many times over. Your home world's capabilities to engage in warfare and create suffering for your world's inhabitants are far beyond anything I could do," he disputed my point with the effectiveness of the sharpened tip of a sword pointed at my bare throat.
I shrugged. There was nothing I could say credibly in response. After all, we have enough nuclear missiles to destroy our entire planet.
"Here!" the young man said and shoved something roughly into my gut.
I ignored the pop-up as I looked down at the object. I saw a brown sack closed at the top by a black drawstring. When I opened the sack, I saw my missing money and my butterfly pin. "Thank you!" I beamed in delight.
"Don't mention it," Enab grouched. "I don't want you to think that I'm a thief. Lord Bane has a reputation to protect," he growled.
"Yes, milord." I started to bow before him when Enab slapped the back of my head. Ow! I ignored my ensuing pop-up message.
"Don't blow my cover!" he whispered with fury in his eyes. "My brother, we are equals in the eyes of the Gods of the Law and Order," he said aloud for anyone nearby to hear. He pulled me back to my feet. "I believe Deacon Manfeuh is looking for you at Church. I wouldn't keep him waiting if I were you," he smirked and walked away.
Once I tied the drawstring of the brown sack to my belt, I hurriedly made my way to the church building and was accosted at the door by Deacon Manfeuh.
"Greetings, Brother Mulligan," he said in warm welcome.
"Greetings to you, Deacon," I replied with a respectful bow.
The older man looked down at the butterfly-adorned scabbard on my belt. The surprise was written on his face. "Are you a student at the dojo?" he inquired and stared at me as if Manfeuh was seeing me in a new light.
"Yes, I am," I nodded.
The deacon pursed his lips for a moment. "Then it would be prudent for the church to ensure that your lessons in swordsmanship will continue. How about this? You will have church-related assignments during the morning. After lunch, you will head to the dojo to continue your training. Would this arrangement be acceptable, Brother?" he inquired.
"Yes, Deacon," I nodded in agreement. With my heart and mind still wrestling with the events at the Public Square, I didn't have the time to think about any potential scheduling conflict between the dojo and the church. I was glad that the deacon was wise enough to create a schedule that allowed me to continue meeting my obligations to both organizations. If push came to shove, I wasn't certain which group was a higher priority for me—my membership in the Church of Britannia was a requirement for the candidacy of kingship, while my training at the Butterfly School of Swordsmanship taught me the skills needed to fight and survive in this gaming world. In effect, the choice would be one of meeting my immediate needs versus ensuring that I could leave this world in the future. I was glad that I didn't have to make a choice at this time.
"Very well," Manfeuh smiled cordially. "If you had passed by the Public Square this morning, I'm sure you noticed that some of our brothers were busy cleaning the cages. I would like you to join them and help them finish this important task. Once the cages are cleaned, they need to be stored in the warehouse," he said.
"Warehouse? Where's that?" I asked.
The deacon raised his eyebrows at the question. "It's directly west of the square. You never noticed the large wood and stone building?" he asked incredulously.
I shrugged helplessly. My first visit to the Public Square was to attend the trial of Ebenthal yesterday. Since I was serving as a witness, I was too nervous to look around the square and notice the warehouse.
"Just go," Manfeuh waved his hand in dismissal.
"Yes, Deacon," I bowed respectfully and turned around to retrace my steps back to the square. When I got there, I approached the closest Brother that I could find. "Greetings, Brother. Deacon Manfeuh has assigned me to assist you in cleaning theses cages. Where should I start?" I asked.
The young man was on his knees scrubbing a dark stain on the floor when I interrupted his work. He looked up and handed me his wet sponge; the color of the sponge had turned dark pink. "You can work with me," he suggested.
"Sure," I replied and grabbed the sponge. I looked around the cage and approached an uncleaned side; it was best to start cleaning a new section of the cage. I started scrubbing the metal bars to remove the crimson stains. I kept my mind empty as I worked. Mentally, I knew that I was removing the dried blood of a wererat whose presence and existence had threatened Tregome, but my heart was reeling in pain and guilt for having survived this terrible ordeal while other innocents were cruelly put to the sword.
My coworker wasn't inclined to make small-talk and we worked together in silence. When we finished scrubbing the walls, ceiling, and floor, he said, "Let's move on to the next one."
I grabbed the bucket of water, which had now turned pink from the blood, and pulled it into the next cage. Once I set my burden down on the ground I looked around the cage and saw that, unlike the previous cage, only one side was clean. I couldn't resist approaching the unmarred side. When I looked out into the square, I quickly recognized the scene—this was my cage from last night! My knees suddenly gave out and I fell to the ground.
"Brother! Are you alright?" my coworker asked as he pulled me back to my feet.
"Why wouldn't he be?" a harsh voice interrupted.
When I turned around, I saw a tall but lanky-looking, middle-aged man dressed in a white robe with a truth stone around his neck. His shoulder-length hair was gray and his dark brown eyes smoldered at me. He wore a light-gray colored mustache which was neatly trimmed over his upper lip. He had a small, angular chin that made the newcomer look haughty. I briefly wondered if the newcomer was an elf but I immediately remembered that church membership was restricted to humans only. I looked at the caption and read his name as "Yomat Yizfell." "Greetings, Brother," I bowed respectfully to the man. With the obsidian cross on his neck, the newcomer was obviously an important church official.
The man ignored my greeting and walked around the cage until he stood on the opposite end from us. He hesitantly reached out with his fingers to touch the cage bars, which were still stained with blood. "My nephew, Mewaine, was killed at this very spot," the older man said softly with venom dripping from his voice. "Everyone in this cage died except for you." Suddenly his eyes were on me again. "Why? Why are you so special that our Gods protected you alone in this cage?" he asked as his fury returned in full force.
I found myself wilting under Brother Yizfell's intense stare. Before I could say a word to defend myself, my coworker stepped in front of me and intervened. "Brother, it is beyond our mortal understanding of our Gods' grand designs. I knew Mewaine in passing and he was a good, decent man who loved making his brothers laugh. I, too, mourn his passing. But please spare our brother here your scorn as he did nothing to deserve it."
I looked at my defender's caption and read his name as "Lensak." "Thank you, Brother Lensak," I whispered.
Brother Yizfell considered Lensak's words for a moment; he closed his eyes and exhaled a deep breath. When he opened his eyes and looked at me again, the fury was gone. "Yes, you are right. I apologize, Brother Mulligan." The man bowed deeply to me and walked away.
When the older man was in no longer in earshot, Lensak also exhaled a deep breath. He turned around and looked at me with worried eyes. "Oh, that was scary," he commented.
"Thank you for defending me," I said.
Lensak gripped my right shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze. "It was the right thing to do," he replied. "However, I would be careful if I were you," he added.
"Why?" I asked.
"Brother Yizfell is a nobleman with many connections throughout Merlin. His family history boasts of many fine warriors, mages, and clerics. I'm sure that he had grand designs for his fallen nephew. Yizfell could help you or hinder you in whatever endeavors you choose in the future. It is best to remain in his good grace," Lensak warned.
I groaned inwardly. If I understood Lensak's warning correctly, Brother Yizfell could have me blacklisted from the professional guilds and even the church itself! "I will tread carefully," I said quietly.
"That would be wise," Lensak agreed. "Now, let's get back to work, shall we?"
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