The Lead Crown: Ch 1b, Martyrdumb (Pt 4)
Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 1-4, Martyr Dumb
"Arlowe!" for the beleaguered raccoon dog the call came from across more than just distance... it came from another point in his life... a simpler, more mundane time-- it was his wife, Calani. "Arlowe!" she called again, "Dinner!" and he suddenly found himself somewhere other than in the dark, dank cell in the church's catacombs.
The evening sky was lit with the reds and oranges of the setting sun and the raccoon dog was sweaty with the day's exertions. He had been moving trash barrels again, working with many other members of the small community within the south east part of town. Life just north of the dock divide had never been easy, but Arlowe had always been an outspoken man and, ultimately, his constant attempts to bring the neighborhood of raccoon dogs together had born fruit.
Many of them were unemployed, or drastically underemployed, living off of the kindness of others, or else working themselves ragged for far less pay than most other day laborers. Of course, some of their community chose less acceptable but far more lucrative careers... prostitutes... thieves... and worse. It wasn't until Arlowe's son was born that he had ever given that lifestyle any thought but, after Cruffington came into his life, the raccoon dog realized that there had to be some changes-- he wouldn't stand for anyone in his family forced into such squalor.
Under Arlowe's guidance the small community of raccoon dogs had started to thrive. They joined together and worked in tandem, not only improving their little out-of-the-way portion of town, but they managed to push out some of the criminal element that had started to manifest within their neighborhood. All of his neighbors cheered him on, proclaiming him their leader and giving him the credit for the slow-but-noticeable transformation... but he never accepted it; Arlowe wasn't doing it for any of those reasons... he just wanted a better life for his son.
He waved to the many people he knew from his past as he walked his way back home. It was a short two blocks, but the raccoon dog had never felt like his journey had taken him longer... it had been over a decade. Having long since realized he was in a dream, Arlowe was, nevertheless, overjoyed with the familiarity of his old neighborhood and the welcoming faces that greeted him from across the years. He turned the final corner, heart ready to burst with joy that he would be able to look upon his upon his wife again... his home... his old life. But it was not meant to be.
As he turned the final corner, the raccoon dog's view of his humble apartment was blocked by two larger-than-life, robed-and-cowled individuals. "Arlowe Flew?" one inquired.
It was a dream, he reminded himself. Anything was possible in a dream. He could choose to do what he didn't do in life; he could will the men into mist and return to catch a glimpse of the life he had left behind; he could have turned and run, walking up buildings and leaving the recruiters far behind. "Yes." the raccoon dog responded, "I am Arlowe." he was as true to himself as he was his own greatest betrayer.
"The Church has seen what you have done with your community." the second robed-and-cowled figure explained as large, leathery wings spread out from beneath his cloak, casting a shadow of piety amidst a corona of divine light, "Yours is a higher calling."
"I was never meant for greatness." Arlowe told the figure. They were not the words he had spoken when the church had sent the recruiters for him, but he was willing to challenge the dream as he felt his emotions begin to squeeze from his heart like a chef juicing a piece of fruit.
"That is not your place to decide... it is His." explained the second figure, wings likewise raising, "You have been chosen."
"What of my family?" those WERE the words from his past... which meant that he was ready for the dragon's response.
"They will be well cared for..." the dragon announced, "The entire community will be compensated for your services." the raccoon dog still didn't know whether it was the greed in him that accepted their offer, or the spark of hope lingering in him that his son truly would be able to have the life that he himself had been denied within the slums.
Arlowe knew what that decision would mean in the way he didn't know back then. Pain and suffering... entering an entirely new life and surrendering everything he had known... his entire past and any of the future he might have had with his people... his love... his son... his family.
He asked the question he did not have the courage to speak back then, "How long?" he addressed the dragon, "How long will you care for them?"
Unlike in his true life, the dream dragon spoke far more truth, "Until you are ours... until you have become what we desire of you... until you are of the faith."
"And then?" the raccoon dog asked, already knowing the answer.
"Then they shall be on their own." the dragon's words echoed through his mind as the sun began to set on what had once been a scene from Arlowe's life.
"How can you make a man choose?" the raccoon dog asked of the darkness... but his words weren't aimed at the dragon.
"You will be a priest in service to God." the dragon's voice continued in the surrounding blackness.
Arlowe's memories echoed around in his head, along with the reply he had given the holy man, "I swore before God that I would be faithful to my wife and--"
"You can be faithful to her by raising her above the streets." the dragon interrupted him, "Your cub can become something greater... he will be able to accomplish more thanks to the choice you make."
"Why can't they come with?" the echo of Arlowe's voice flowed like a specter in the darkness that surrounded him.
"You cannot be distracted, Arlowe. They must remain here-- a monk's family is the church."
"Just as well." the raccoon dog felt a ball of queasiness build within him at the memory, "If I cannot be with my wife then I may as well forsake love forever." his own words from the past echoed through his mind.
"No, Arlowe... you will know love... the love of God." It was the defining moment when he had finally given in to the priests... and, from there, his new life had begun-- without even getting to say goodbye. The cold blackness gave way to bleary gray as the echoing voices from his dreams faded to nothing.
Friar Arlowe realized as he lay there that he was no longer cold, rather, he was incredibly warm... hot even-- though the sweat on his shivering body was like ice. The nausea in his stomach grew even worse, and he rolled to the side on the stone blocks of his cell and began retching... though nothing came out. Gasping for breath, the monk lay on his stomach, trying to regain control of his body, which shook as though he were freezing to death... despite how incredibly hot he felt.
He wasn't certain how long he had laid there when next his presence of mind returned. The foggy blur that was his vision picked up long streaks of shadow amidst what he assumed was the half-light of dusk. At first, the raccoon dog had no idea what had pulled him back to his senses but, as he continued to lay there, he realized that he heard voices... far off voices... talking at a quickened pace. Focusing with as much control as he had, he bade the words make more sense and he trained his hearing on them.
"...and once things calm down you'll be reinstated... don't worry." the voice was in the quick-paced tone of Vic Ventor and, although far away, it was getting closer.
"I just can't believe they suspended me in the first place." the frustration in Cruffington's tone was obvious, "How can they even THINK the church might be responsible for sabotaging a prototype?"
"The Albatross was a big deal, Cruff... they're just covering their bases from the social backlash... you know that."
" I didn't even have anything to do with the project." the raccoon dog growled outside the cell.
"Don't you remember Professor Weinbeck speaking on the scientific method?" Vic's comment was particularly sardonic, "Any hypothesis is right until proven wrong."
"That's not EXACTLY what--"
"I know... I know..." the fox-coon acknowledged, his face appearing in the small window of the wooden door, and he raised his voice projected into the cell, "Hey? Hey... Friar?"
Friar Arlowe opened his muzzle to greet the inquisitive young man but his throat ceased when he tried to speak, little coming out other than a croaking gasp.
"Father?" Cruffington's face ousted Vic's and, even from his position on the floor, the older raccoon dog saw the young initiate's eyes widen, "Friar Arlowe!"
"Cruff... hey!" Vic objected, and the two rustled on the opposite side of the door for several moments.
"Quiet!" Cruff snapped in return, and his harsh order was followed by a firm *click* followed by a metallic grinding... and the door swung open. He took two steps before coming to a halt, "Friar Arlowe?"
The older raccoon dog grunted, and groaned, using all of his strength just to roll onto his side. He had been exhausted after his beating, and hadn't recuperated during the night... but he felt even worse after the passing of the day. He'd slept... that much was certain... but he was as sore as if he had just run from Graddin to Newport... and just as exhausted.
"Damn..." murmured Vic, "He doesn't look that great."
The monk groaned, raising his head slightly, "...don't... curse." and it fell back to the floor, his body unable to use its energy for anything more than another round of coughs.
"He's sick." Cruff knelt down beside him and the monk felt the cool touch of a paw pressed against his forehead, "He's burning up..."
"Good thing I know a thing or two about Water Studies." Vic announced, "Come on..." and the fox-coon knelt down on Friar Arlowe's other side, and began hoisting him to his feet.
"I've got this side..." Cruff announced, grabbing hold of Friar Arlowe's right shoulder, "Just... get his other arm."
"...wait." the monk attempted to object, but the word came out as barely more than a groan, and he didn't have the strength to fight off his "rescuers".
"Shh!" Vic hissed, "...someone's coming." The two quickly backpedaled away from the door, the coon-fox kicking it into something more reminiscent of a closed position as they slid back into the darkness of the cell.
"I know you are there." called a very certain voice. Friar Arlowe recognized it despite his addled thoughts, and apparently Cruff did as well.
"Don't try to stop us, Rhys." the young raccoon dog declared, "He shouldn't be locked up, and you know it."
"I wasn't going to stop you." the rat responded, and he pulled the door open, key in paw, "The Inquisitors announced after evening mass that Friar Arlowe was going to hang in the morning... and.." he heard the young priest swallow audibly, "...and I wasn't going to let that happen."
The revelation was not entirely a surprise to the monk; he had very little doubts that they church would let him be... he was too much of a threat. The fact that three of the young acolytes were putting themselves in danger on his behalf was something that he couldn't accept. "No..." he murmured, attempting to struggle in their grasp, but managing little more than shaking his head.
"Dear God..." Brother Rhys announced, taking a step back and making a warning gesture of faith, "He is taken ill."
"Being severely beaten will do that to you." confirmed Cruff with a faint growl to his voice, "He's lost a lot of blood... and I don't think he's had any care--"
"Sister Aurelie had come to see him... she treated his wounds as best she could." the rat responded, holding the door as the young raccoon dog and the fox-coon brought the monk out into the hall.
"Then we'll thank her if we ever see her again." Cruff responded quickly, "Let's--"
"You're welcome." the cat's voice silenced him immediately.
"Sister Aurelie... what are--" Rhys began.
"The same thing as you, I believe." the young sister responded before the question had entirely left the rat's muzzle.
"Hooray..." noted Vic sarcastically, "It's a party."
"Sister..." Brother Rhys noted softly, "you DO realize what will happen if you're caught..."
"Much better than you, Brother Barlow." the cat spoke with a specific tonal quality... a slight vibrato that made Friar Arlowe realize immediately that Sister Aurelie had experienced what the monk had hoped would not come to pass... and his spirits fell. "Come." Sister Auerlie spoke with conviction, "This way."
"There are guards in that hallway." Vic spoke up quickly.
"They're sleeping." the cat responded, and moved on ahead. The party followed, granted, at a slower pace as Friar Arlowe's legs were hardly working and they had to half-carry, half-drag him. He would have objected had he the energy... they were putting themselves in danger on his behalf, and that was something he would not have accepted had he any opportunity to object. As it was, however, they emerged out of the catacombs and into the church's south atrium.
Although the northern atrium was busy at almost any hour, the southern grand hall was reserved for the comings and goings of the clergy... which meant it was very quiet late in the evening. As Sister Auerlie had explained, the four men standing guard in the room were on the floor: one on his back, two on their faces, and one on his side-- the monk was relieved to see that they were all still breathing. He was not the only one.
"Drugged?" questioned Vic, pausing to look down at a bobcat as they passed by him, "I didn't know you had skills with sleeping potions." he glanced to Sister Auerlie, who was quietly opening one of the huge wooden doors that led to the outside.
"She doesn't." responded the first voice that night Friar Arlowe had been glad to hear, "But I know herbs."
"Who's that?" Brother Rhys questioned, a concerned tone to his voice. The monk was able to see the form materialize from the shadows, a tall, well-built male wolf adorned with the body paints of a Tribal.
"Do you know this wolf, Sister?" Cruff asked of the cat.
"Yes." Sister Auerlie nodded, "He's... a...." she glanced to the wolf, "...a friend."
"I am Aodhan." the visitor announced, "Come... we must leave this place quickly."
"We can take him from here." Sister Auerlie announced, "He'll be safe once we get him to the tribe lands."
"You can't go to the Tribelands, Sister!" Rhys announced, aghast, "You know what they do to--"
"I'll be fine." the cat interrupted.
"We should go with... just to be sure." Vic countered.
"No... there's no need to get into any trouble." Rhys spoke, "If the Aodhan is your friend, he can take Friar Arlowe without you having to--"
"I NEED to go." Sister Auerlie announced in a voice that would suggest no further objection; the monk was even more certain of the young cat's situation.
"We can hide out here on the church grounds until things calm down." Cruff suggested, "He might not be able to survive the trip."
"He'll be fine." Vic confirmed, "Let's get back to our bunks before anyone realizes we had anything to do with this."
"Wait... " Cruff spoke up out of the blue, "we should take his place." and, for a moment, the words clenched Friar Arlowe's heart in a chilly grip, "If they find us there we can stand together and force them to change their mind."
"That would NOT end well, Cruffington." Brother Rhys objected.
"No..." Friar Arlowe finally managed to force out as he wheezed in a breath, "Put... me back... this... this can't... continue." The exertion of speaking was too much, and he practically collapsed there, held up only by the quick support of Cruff and Vic.
"He's delirious." murmured Sister Aurelie.
"Come... I will take him." Aodhan spoke, reaching for the old raccoon dog, and hefting him up and over his back. He turned to Sister Auerlie, but Friar Arlowe's vision had already started to blacken out once more, "We must go." the tribal wolf announced. The monk slipped into unconsciousness before he heard the group's resolution.