The Lead Crown: Ch 1b, Martyrdumb (Pt 2)
Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 1-2, Martyr Dumb
The next meeting was far different than the prior ones, but Friar Arlowe was not surprised. He had entered the room and the door closed behind him as he took in the sight of three large Inquisitors. Two of the men were dragons, Inquisitor Ignus being one of them. The other dragon was nearly as wide as he was tall-- the monk didn't recognize the man. The third Inquisitor was a wolverine. Friar Arlowe had just opened his muzzle to inquire about the oddity of a non-dragon as an Inquisitor when the first blow struck him.
He found out, it seemed, that the Inquisitors were done with asking questions. The raccoon dog didn't know how long he was beaten but, throughout it all, Inquisitor Ignus spent the session recanting the monk's transgressions while the other two Inquisitors took turns striking him, alternating between using open hands and rods of bundled reeds. He registered each blow that struck: it was not a casual assault... they were 'cleansing' him.
After some unknown amount of time the two Inquisitors had paused while they regained their stamina, leaving Friar Arlowe in his defensive fetal position upon the cold floor of the interrogation room. The usual table and chairs were absent, leaving much more room for freedom of movement on the part of his assailants. Although the monk had heard of Inquisitors undertaking such measures, the raccoon dog had foolishly hoped that it was nothing more than rumors... but he had discovered the truth.
"Was it an imbalance of humors, Friar?" Inquisitor Ignus asked, voice still calm and collected, being the only individual in the room neither exhausted from beating or by being beaten, "What drove you to speak against the Church? Were you in the grip of the Dark One? Was your mind addled by the heat of the day?" The dragon's words were no longer accusatory, nor was he speaking the rhetoric or chant of a cleansing. They were simple questions.
"All this...?" the words croaked out of the raccoon dog's throat, hoarse from his cries of pain, "... for speaking God's word?"
Inquisitor Ignus held out a talon, and the wolverine quickly placed a large black book into it. The dragon opened the book to a page marked by a red strip of silk. "God loves all his children and blesseth them in different ways, that we may form a more perfect whole. With the sky to the winged, the sea to the finned, and the earth to those with hoof and foot, let Man rule over all for he is the sole heir to all God has to offer." he closed the book with a hearty *thump* and handed it back to the wolverine, "You are familiar with this passage, Friar Arlowe?"
"Yes..." the raccoon dog nodded vigorously against the floor, recognizing it despite the pain he felt all over, "The Book of Caerly... Chapter Two... verse--"
"I had thought you might." Inquisitor Ignus confirmed, cutting off the full recitation of the reference, "It speaks of creation as a perfect whole, with every being given a place in His vision of the world."
"God loves all his children--" the monk rasped, but he was interrupted when the second dragon Inquisitor kicked him in the ribs.
"He knows what it says." the dragon growled.
"Peace, Inquisitor Efran." Inquisitor Ignus noted, and then knelt down beside Friar Arlowe, "This passage is recited to confirm the place we all have in the world, Monk. It is used to show the faithful that they were given their lot in life because it is in God's plan. By living their lives loyally to that position they earn His love..." the dragon slid a finger beneath the raccoon dog's muzzle and lifted it up to face him, "Did you know that?"
"Why?" the injured monk wheezed.
"Why?" the Inquisitor raised an eye ridge, his two ear sails likewise perking, "Why what, Friar Arlowe?"
"Why should someone have to earn God's..." he wheezed, coughing up some bloody spittle, "... God's love... when he already loves all His children?"
Inquisitor Ignus let go of the raccoon dog's muzzle, allowing it fall back to the stone floor. "There is an organization that prides itself on understanding 'why', Friar Arlowe." He stood, taking several steps back, "It is the University of Progressive Understanding... and it is quickly unraveling the fabric of society with its heretical theories and unfounded claims." the dragon's voice hinged on a growl. He turned, and nodded to the other Inquisitors.
Talking was once again no longer on the docket for the meeting... and the beatings continued until consciousness escaped the battered monk.
* * * * * *
Pain greeted Friar Arlowe as his mind slowly slipped past the anesthesia of unconsciousness. It was a gradual thing... the pain increasing as he took stock of his injuries. He slowly tested each of his extremities, identifying problem areas as he sought to find out just how harmed he was. It took him several minutes to realize that there was someone present with him; his head was cradled in a perfumed lap and gentle paws caressed a warm cloth through the fur of his face. He smelled blood mixed with the herbal infusion on the cloth.
"Shhh..." the soft voice spoke.
"Sister Aurelie." the raccoon dog murmured, winching when he felt one of his loose teeth tear against his gums.
"The Inquisitors said that you underwent castigation." the young cat's voice vibrated faintly with overwhelmed emotion, "They... said I could tend to you..."
"You are too kind, Allie." he spoke, his throat raw from his ordeal, "...far too kind."
"Is what they say true, Friar?" her voice cracked as the question came out.
"That would..." he paused, swallowing-- the sensation felt like someone was pouring sand down his throat, "...depend on what they say."
The room was dark, but Friar Arlowe could see well enough to tell that Sister Aurelie was holding up a bowl of water for him, and the raccoon dog put his muzzle to it, and drank deeply and greedily as the cat slowly tilted it back for him. He coughed on the last few drops; she set the bowl down and wiped the fur around his mouth. "They say you're a heretic." she finally breathed, the words coming out constricted, and with difficulty.
He let out a breath, laying his head back down on her thigh, exhausted merely by drinking. "What do YOU think, Allie?" he asked at length.
"The Inquisitors are going to call for you again when you're better." the cat side-stepped the question.
"I had expected as much." the raccoon dog attempted to hide his fear with a casual tone, "I cannot say I'm looking forward to it."
"They want you to stop preaching and to renounce your words against the church." the young cat stated.
"That would be a hard thing to do, child... I never spoke against the church." Friar Arlowe explained.
"But..." Sister Aurelie paused, putting down the bloody cloth, "Why would they--"
"Inquisitor Ignus has taken an interest in you..." Friar Arlowe interrupted her, realizing that their time was short when he heard the sound of a key turning in a lock somewhere down the hallway.
"I..." she seemed taken aback by his comment, "I had not noticed, Friar... I am a Sister Divine of the Holy H--"
He reached up and took hold of one of the cat's paws, "From Sister to Mother, child... there are no laws in this world or the next that say what Inquisitor Ignus will want from you is not allowed... and he has enough power to get what he will one day no longer be able to resist."
Despite the dim light, the raccoon dog could see the cat's ears flush red in embarrassment, "Friar... please!"
He did not release his hold on her wrist, "Allie... promise me... if he asks for you... run. Gather your things, and leave this place."
"I don't understand..." he felt the cat shivering through his grip, but she didn't try to pull away. "...why?" she murmured.
The word brought a smile to the raccoon dog's muzzle despite the feel of his loose tooth popping free. "He will not be pleased with you, child... no matter how much he demands it there is something you cannot provide him... and, in the end, that will put you in very real danger." he let go of her wrist, fingers tugging gently at the bracelet he had given her, which she wore, "I am not the only one to realize it."
"Aodhan..." she murmured softly.
"You do not have to live in a church to see things clearly, child." Friar Arlowe spoke, wincing at the loud, unpleasant sound of metal-against-metal as someone beyond his room turned a key in the door's heavy-duty lock.
"What do--" the cat began, but she was interrupted.
"Sister..." Friar Arlowe recognized the speaker, "It is time for you to leave."
"Please, Friar... please think about repenting..." Sister Aurelie asked piteously.
"Be well, child." the raccoon dog murmured, laying his head back down on the stone floor, waiting patiently for the young cat to leave before he spoke again, "Hello, Brother Rhys." he greeted the newcomer, "I am surprised they have you manning the dungeon."
"I asked to be assigned here, Friar." the rat spoke quietly.
Friar Arlowe chuckled, but stilled the response when his ribs cried out objection to the treatment, pain lancing through his abdomen, "Mngh..." the raccoon dog acknowledged, "I am surprised... I would have figured you would prefer to avoid such an unpleasant duty as catering to the lost souls in the church's catacombs."
"All jobs are blessed and no task is too small." Brother Rhys responded, "But my reasoning is far more complicated than duty to the church..." he knelt down next to the raccoon dog, and pressed his paw into the monk's, leaving a key before drawing back, "... God would not guide my heart wrong, Friar... I cannot let them do this to you."
"Is not the church's will God's own?" Friar Arlowe slowly sat up, groaning as he did so, "The Inquisitors--"
"Are not God." the rat replied, "Nor is the Church." a smile spread its way slowly across the rat's usually reserved muzzle, "Your speeches in the streets were heard by more than just commoners, Friar."
"Thank you, Brother." the raccoon dog bowed his head, "But I cannot accept the key. I will not risk putting you in danger... I cannot repay your kindness by condemning you."
The rat looked down at the key as Friar Arlowe held it out. Brother Rhys shook his head, "No... they are going to kill you, Friar... you CAN'T stay here."
The raccoon dog smiled, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the wall, "I am afraid you are wrong, Brother... despite how much you suggest otherwise, I cannot leave." and he gave the key a half-hearted toss in the rat's direction.
"Please reconsider." Brother Rhys requested; the Friar heard him kneel down and recover the key, "You mean far too much to too many people for us to lose you."
"So long as I maintain my faith and you maintain yours, no matter what happens, you will not lose me." the raccoon dog answered.
The rat remained quiet for several seconds, but it was also apparent that he wasn't leaving. Brother Rhys didn't speak up until Friar Arlowe opened his eyes again, "Are you going to tell Cruffington?" the priest asked.
The monk shook his head, "No." he answered at length, "I think it's best that I not." and closed his eyes once more. Without another word Brother Rhys turned and left, locking the door behind himself.
* * * * * *
Friar Arlowe wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but it did nothing to revitalize him nor dull the pain. His awakening was a noisy affair, "ARLOWE!" the shout was punctuated by several repeat impacts against the heavy wooden door to the monk's cell. He recognized the voice.
"Hello, Cruffington." Friar Arlowe greeted his visitor.
"Is it true?" the young raccoon dog grabbed the metal bars in the door's window, peering in at him with muted rage.
"I am afraid you will have to be more specific, Cruffington." the monk knew exactly what the accusation was; apparently Brother Rhys had taken it upon himself to inform the young acolyte in his stead.
"Mom told me that you went off to Graddin after you... left us." Cruff's voice was suddenly very calm.
"I did." the monk spoke, "I was called."
"So you left your wife and child behind?" Cruff's voice was still neutral.
"He's... your dad?' Friar Arlowe heard another voice from the other side of the door.
"Hello again, Mr. Ventor." the monk greeted the out-of-view raccoon-fox.
"How come you never told him?" Vic questioned.
"The 'right time' never came." the monk lied. Truthfully, he could never bring himself to go through that confrontation... though it seemed beside the point just then, as the confrontation found its way to him.
"I thought Monks were chaste." the mixed-breed added.
"After we take our oaths, yes." Friar Arlowe sat up, wincing at his injuries. He gazed at the pair of eyes staring at him from the other side of the bars, "Cruffington... it was never my intention to hurt you or your mother."
"I know." Cruff nodded, "I used to be angry... but I understand now, I just--"
"I was called." the monk spoke quietly.
"So you heard God and had to answer?" Vic's voice spoke up, angry, "That's a pretty bitchy reason to abandon your--"
"The church took me from them!" Friar Arlowe growled, then immediately took stock of his situation and forced himself to calm down; it wasn't the time or place to have such a discussion.
"What do you mean 'took you'?" Cruff asked, staring in at him.
"A... figure of speech." the older raccoon dog quickly backpedaled, "I had to answer a higher calling... it was..." he swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth, "...best for everyone."
"THIS doesn't seem like it's best for everyone." Vic interjected.
"Cruffington..." Friar Arlowe let out a sigh, "I know I can't expect you to understand, but--"
"No, Father... I understand." Cruff's paws left the bars, and his face disappeared from the window. The monk didn't bother correcting the acolyte's use of 'father'-- it was most inconveniently appropriate. He listened to the sound of footsteps walking away from his cell... walking away from him... most likely for good.