Young Writers Society

“Merrick, Merrick!” the stout little abbot called. “Here. Over here!”

Merrick turned toward the short balding man and scowled. “Good morning, Carolinus.” He was probably the only person who could address the abbot as such. All else were to address him as “Abbot” or “Your Holiness”.

“Well, I wouldn’t really say that considering what happened this morning, but if you were to just consider the morning in general, perhaps it would be a good morning. Or really, if we’re just talking about the weather, then I suppose it’s a good morn--”

“Linus,” he interrupted, “let’s get to the point.”

“Ah, yes, Merrick. Well, I suppose you’ve heard about what’s happened in the abbey’s refectory or else you wouldn’t be here. I am afraid Brother Thomas has been murdered. May the Creator bless his soul.” Abbot Carolinus quickly did the sign of the dead. He bent his index finger and gave it a brief kiss, then raised it to his forehead.

“Peace and salvation to Brother Thomas,” Merrick answered without contempt, returning the sign of the dead. It was a sad thing that happened to Brother Thomas, and he would dare not do or say anything that might offend an already visibly upset Carolinus.

“Thank you, Merrick. Come now, I will show you to the refectory.” The two ambled up a steep embankment in front of the abbey. Merrick looked around at the aged architecture and wondered how this place still stood. Vines clung to everything, claiming each stone and gate as their own. The abbey’s worn bricks were crumbling like stale bread, leaving small piles of powder at the base of the enormous structure. The men who lived here were pious, and Merrick didn’t doubt their faith, but he had the feeling the monks’ piety often got in the way of their sense of work ethic.

Merrick tried to break the awkward silence that had enveloped them since they started the short walk to the abbey. “When was the body discovered?”

“Early this morning. Brother Camus went into the kitchens to prepare our break fasts. As he was on his way through the refectory, he discovered Brother Thomas’ body lying on the ground, completely stripped of his robes.”

“He was naked?”

Carolinus blushed. “Yes.”

The two reached the giant doors of the abbey and stopped. The doors were ajar, but Merrick knew that Abbot Carolinus needed to complete his ritual before he entered. He bent to one knee, and again performed the sign of the dead. Merrick stood and watched while the other man struggled to get back to his feet.

“I’m going to need to talk with Brother Camus and anyone who might have seen Brother Thomas this morning or last night. Also, I’ll need to talk with anyone who might have noticed anything unusual with him lately.”

“I will see to it.” Carolinus summoned one of the younger monks to come forward and whispered the message in his ear. The youth ran off, eager to complete a mission for the great abbot.

The two men arrived at the refectory, the monks’ main dining hall. The room was modest, yet comfortable, and was filled with several elongated tables. Merrick walked between them, obviously angry that the site had been cleaned.

“Where’s the body?”

“We decided it was best for the others not to see it. Things might have gotten a little too overbearing had we kept it here.”

“Linus!” Merrick said to his old friend. “How could you allow them to do that? Now I have no way to know what position he was in when he died, or where the killer might have been when he was attacked. Where’s the body now?”

“It’s in the crypt, although that is merely a place for us to store him while we wait for the funeral ceremony. We plan to bury him in the cemetery this afternoon.”

“No, you don’t. Keep the body in the crypt until I have time to examine it. You’ve already lost me some evidence. I plan to not carelessly lose any more.”

The abbot backed off from Merrick, giving him some needed room to work. Merrick was brought in because he was a Messenger of the State, an official whose job it was to serve his king in whatever means he might be useful. One of his talents was the ability to get to the bottom of a problem that needed solving, and in this case it was to discover who had murdered poor Brother Thomas. Normally, the murder of a monk would not bother one so high up as a king, but the fact that it had been King Ganute’s brother had changed his outlook on the matter.

Merrick projected a few tentative strings from his mind, searching for any clues that could help him find Brother Thomas’ killer. There was that all too familiar tingling.

“Well, it’s evident that magic has been used here.”

Carolinus twinged.

“Can you think of any other reason why magic would be present in here, Carolinus?”

“I can’t think of one. We don’t use magic here in the abbey, Merrick. We are very superstitious about that sort of thing. Were we not such good acquaintances, I would never have allowed someone in here that carried the curse.”

“Please don’t call it that, Linus. I prefer the word gift.”

“Call it what you like, my friend, but magic is a curse upon mankind put here to punish the evil.”

Merrick felt a lump form in his throat and he tried to clear it without letting the abbot notice.

Brother Camus came strolling into the refectory wearing the typical monks’ outfit, a brown robe fitted with a plain-looking sash. Camus was a tall, scrawny man, and contrasted greatly when he stood next to his superior. He was also much younger than the aging abbot.

“Merrick, I’d like you to meet Brother Camus, the abbey’s head cook.”

“Pleased to meet you, Brother Camus.”

The young monk nodded nervously. “Your Holiness, you’re missing your sigil.”

Linus looked to his shoulder. “Oh, yes, I must have misplaced it.”

“You were the first to discover Thomas’ body?” Merrick said impatiently.

Camus nodded and looked to Carolinus for permission to continue.

“Go on, Brother Camus, we’re all friends here.”

Brother Camus nodded again and spoke, “I went to the kitchen to prepare break fast, like I do every morning. I had baked most of the bread, and I was about to get the wine ready. Well you have to go through the refectory to get to the wine cellar, so I was walking through, and well, I saw this person on the floor. At first, I had thought one of the brothers had had a little too much wine the previous night; he was naked as the day he was born. But then I noticed he wasn’t breathing. I walked up to him and saw a puddle of blood. He had been stabbed. It was awful, Your Holiness, it was awful.” The monk put his head to the abbot’s shoulder, and Carolinus responded by patting it.

“Shhh, now. Don’t you be worrying about it, Brother Camus. It’s over now.”

“Did you see any sort of weapon-- a knife, a shard of glass, anything?”

“No, no. I didn’t see anything like that.” Brother Camus was now whimpering and his voice cracked when he spoke.

“I’m sorry, Merrick, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go on with Brother Camus,” Carolinus said. “Perhaps we can continue this some other time, maybe when Camus is not so distraught.”

“But I only asked him one question. I have many more that have been left unanswered. I need more time with him.”

“You can clearly see he is no state to talk about it just now. He needs some time to recuperate.”

“I don’t have time.”

“He’s not going anywhere, Merrick. You’re just going to have to wait.”

The abbot led Brother Camus to the refectory’s exit. “Go back to the dormitory, Camus. We’ll come there later to ask you more questions.”

As Camus departed, Merrick noticed uneasiness in his demeanor. Perhaps it was the fact that he had discovered the body and had been frightened out of his mind, but Merrick suspected there was something more. Brother Camus had to know something that could help him. He needed to talk to him-- alone.

Merrick sent a small web over the large stain of blood where Thomas had lain only hours earlier. Nothing. He felt the smooth stone floor with his hand, taking in its chill. It looked as though someone had tried to clean it with a scrub brush, but couldn’t quite get all the blood off. He examined the room once again, and decided there was nothing else here that could give him a clue as to who might have committed this offense against the Creator.

“It feels as if everything is too clean, Linus. Even the trace amounts of magic seem to have been cleansed somehow. I can’t get a read on what type of magic was used, only the fact that it was. It’s a very unusual feeling.”

“That’s all and good,” Carolinus stammered, “but I’d rather not talk about magic. Let’s go take a look at the body, so we can bury it by this afternoon. The sooner the better.”

“All right,” Merrick agreed. “Lead the way.”

The route to the crypts was long and meandering. They exited the main building of the abbey and circumvented the enormous gardens. As they passed, Merrick noticed they were in particularly bad shape, save for one patch near a small shack.

“That’s Brother Antonis’ residence. He’s been our gardener for nearly thirty years now. Unfortunately, he’s so old he thinks that small patch is the only garden here on the abbey. Some have tried to tell him there’s more, but he always waves them off. We’ve given up and let him tend to that small patch. Besides, we get most of our vegetables brought into us now.”

The two finally passed through the cemetery. Merrick was not fond of such places, but he was more than familiar with them. The gravestones called out to him, all the past men who had died serving the Creator. It was unlikely he would be buried in a place such as this.

“Brother Thomas’ grave will be located over there.” He pointed to a large rectangular hole near a giant mausoleum. “He’ll be at peace next to our founder.”

Merrick continued on, saying nothing, adding to the somber mood that already loomed over this desolate place.

They reached the doors to the crypt, two hidden flaps on the side of the great mausoleum.

“Back in the days of the founding of Blankshire Abbey, Abbot Marius, our blessed founder, hid down here with over a hundred other monks after we had been overrun by several Fessians. They lived down here for a little over a week, with next to nothing to eat or drink. During this time, they sent out distress signals to those they thought might send aid. No one ever came. Several died, including Abbot Marius, and when the Fessians finally left, driven off by some other desperate mercenary band, the monks built this mausoleum in his remembrance. The crypt holds the bodies of all the monks who died during the Fessian incursion.”

The crypt was barely sufficient in size to hide as many people as Abbot Carolinus had mentioned. Merrick found himself staring at the numerous skeletal figures that were stuffed into the walls like loaves of bread stacked in an oven. It was sobering. Carolinus led him forward towards Brother Thomas’ body. He had been placed on a stone slab that had been hastily built to suit its purpose and on his right side, a small candle had been lit. Whether it was simply to see him or if it was some sort of ritual for the dead, Merrick was not sure. Either way, it illuminated Thomas’ face and gave him the appearance of saintliness. His robes had been returned to him, he saw. At least they had given him that much respect.

Merrick grazed Thomas’ robe with his arm, each of its fibers scratching at his skin. He wondered how the monks could stand wearing clothes that itched their bodies so fully. He shifted the robe on Thomas’ body, trying to find the wound that had proved fatal. The king’s brother had been stabbed in the stomach; a betrayer’s death. It was so named because it could be either the killer or the victim who was the betrayer. Merrick wondered which Thomas had been.

“It looks as though he was stabbed with something other than a blade. The cuts are too irregular, see here, how the skin sort of flaps at the edges there.”

“What do you think was used?”

“A sharp blade would have been much more precise, cleaner. I suppose an exceptionally dull blade could have done this, but the killer would have had to grind the blade in there. My guess is a scrap of metal, or maybe a shard of glass.”

“Who would do such a thing?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out.”

#

As it turned out, no else had seen Brother Thomas in quite a while before his death, and Brother Camus had only encountered him after he had been stabbed. One monk said he saw Thomas more than a week ago, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Merrick was less than enthused about the progress of this investigation.

He had a body, although out of place, and a murder scene, which had been cleansed not only by corporeal means, but also through the medium of magic. He had no murder weapon, no suspect, and no motive. Who would want to kill a monk? Surely there were enemies of the king who might strike back by targeting his brother, but Carolinus had ensured him that no such people were allowed near the abbey. It had to have been someone Thomas knew, someone who could get close enough to stick the weapon in his gut.

It was dusk now, and Merrick had wasted most of the afternoon interrogating the other monks. He paced around Carolinus’ quarters debating the next move.

Merrick sighed. He needed to talk to Camus again, but he needed to do it without being under the houndlike watch of Carolinus. He needed complete freedom.

“I’m going to take another look at the refectory.”

“But you’ve seen it twice already.”

“I know, Linus, but I feel like I’m missing something. Maybe I will find something else this time.”

“I’ll go with.”

“Are you sure? I plan to use some pretty powerful spells. This time I’m not going to hold anything back.”

Carolinus hesitated. “In that case, maybe I better stay here. Just make sure you tell me if you find anything new.”

“Absolutely, old friend. Why would I do otherwise?”

He left Carolinus’ in the direction of the refectory, but headed to the dormitories once he was out of sight. He would get his chance to talk with Brother Camus alone.

The dormitories were precisely what he had expected. Dank, shadowed hallways were lit by the rays of the retreating sun. His boots scraped along the floor, sending an obnoxious grating down the corridor. Several rooms housed the monks of the abbey, and each one looked exactly the same. Each room he passed had a bed fitted with a plain wool blanket and white sheet, a bureau for clothes, and a holy sigil that hung on the wall.

Where to find Brother Camus in all of this uniformity? He spotted a rotund monk sitting at a table in a trancelike state. “Do you know where I can find Brother Camus?”

The man continued to stare at the wall, seemingly unaware that Merrick was there.

“Merrick?” a voice came from behind him.

“Brother Camus, perfect. I was looking for you.”

“Well it would have done you no good asking Brother Timos there. He’s deaf… and mute. He likes to make people believe he’s taken a vow of silence.”

“How do you know he wants people to think that? He can’t talk.”

“Quite a conundrum, isn’t it? Listen, I am sorry I was acting so oddly earlier. Being around the abbot makes me nervous.”

“I see. Well, he’s not here now, so you can tell me anything.”

“Not now, let’s depart back to my quarters. There are those about that have the habit of passing the word.”

“Brother Timos? He’s deaf.”

“And you believe that stops him?”

Merrick walked back to Camus’ room wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into.

“You can’t trust anyone here, Merrick.”

“But you’re servants to the Creator. What reason do you have for deception and trickery?”

“Those are traits that every man here needs to possess in order to survive. Either that or insanity. Half of the monks here are spies. Believe me, I know, information is our business. The other half are politicians looking to land a position high up and get in favor with the high clergy. There is a lot that goes on here that you don‘t know about. Let‘s just say that sin is not a concern for most.”

Merrick stood there stunned, not quite believing what he was hearing. He had always imagined monks as simple honest men.

“Partly, I think it has to do with boredom. Living a modest life is very boring, Merrick, trust me.”

“Let me ask you a question.”

“Yes?”

“Are you a spy?”

Camus chuckled. “I thought you’d never ask.” Camus’ demeanor and speech had completely changed from when he was in the refectory. He was a new man, one that completely opened up a new world to Merrick.

“Brother Thomas was foremost a politician, like his brother. I was his informer. He brought me in to collect information, and the only open position was as the abbey’s cook. Unfortunately, I knew next to nothing about cooking. After several attempts, and help from a few of the kinder brothers, I finally managed to catch on to it. I actually like doing it now, but that’s beside the point. I soon discovered that being the cook had its advantages in collecting information. Oftentimes, I overheard the loose tongues of those who drank too much. Also, as the personal server of the abbot, I could catch a few words here or there about anything that piqued my interest. It was the perfect cover.”

“So you’re not really a monk?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I am a monk, and after all these years I have grown quite fond of this place. But my primary task was to serve my master, and I will do anything I can to help avenge his death. He was a good man.” Camus crossed his arms and looked to the ground in contemplation. “You are a personal friend of the king?”

“More or less,” Merrick said, not mentioning the king’s lack of affinity towards him. Their relationship was of more of a business-like nature than anything else.

“Then I believe I can trust you. The truth is, I suspect the abbot was involved in Thomas’ death.”

“Carolinus? He’s harmless. I have known him for years.”

“Which is why I have been so hesitant to speak to you about my theories. You seem to be a pretty logical man, Merrick. I hope my judgment wasn’t wrong. You can’t let your feelings get in the way this time. If Abbot Carolinus was involved, then you must hold him responsible, no matter what your emotions tell you.”

That was like a hammer to his stomach. Only because he knew it to be true. If Linus was guilty, he would have to pay. “You can trust me, Camus. I will find the man responsible. Now tell me why you think the abbot is involved.”

“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but King Ganute and the high clergy have been maneuvering around each other, trying to gain an upper hand in power.”

“They’ve been doing that for years, what’s your point?”

“Carolinus is under the indirect control of the high clergy, although he has been known to show signs of neutrality. Obviously, Thomas leaned in his brother’s favor. Well, this very morning I was to meet with Thomas in the refectory, but when I got there, he was already dead. I suspect he was to tell me his brother was going to instate him as High Abbot.”

“But how could he do that? Carolinus still has the post.”

“Yes, but Thomas supposedly had something that could incriminate Carolinus that would remove him from office. As the next highest ranking monk, and the brother to the king, Thomas would be the obvious choice. The clergy would have to elect him.”

“And the king would have control over the most powerful and largest abbey.”

“Precisely. He would have all our resources at his disposal.”

“Couldn’t the clergy just elect someone else?”

“It would be too risky. It might just give the king the needed reason to declare open hostilities against the higher clergy. And their open defiance of the king would sway many minds towards Ganute’s favor.”

“Well, why do you suspect Carolinus then? Wouldn’t it be the high clergy who wanted Thomas dead?”

“Power is power, my friend. The clergy can gather enormous pressure, and Carolinus would have been ruined had his secret come out.” Camus handed Merrick a small sigil. “Take this.”

“What is it?”

“A sigil. Each monk here wears one on his shoulder. This one I found in Thomas’ hand when I discovered his body.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before? This could lead us to the killer.”

“It belongs to Carolinus. You can see why I had to wait to give it to you.”

Merrick nodded, although something didn’t make sense to him. Whatever Linus’ secret had been had caused him to go to extreme lengths, but would he have had the constitution to kill off a fellow brother?

“We must part ways now, Merrick. We can’t have Carolinus know that we’ve been talking.” He walked Merrick to the doorway.

“What about Brother Timos?”

“Don’t worry about him, I’ll deal with it. One more thing, ask Carolinus where he goes every week on prayer night.”

“Where does he go?”

“That’s for you to find out on your own.”

With that, Camus closed the door, leaving Merrick to ponder the absurd nature of this investigation.

#

“Where have you been? I sent Brother Jorus to the refectory to fetch you, but he said you weren’t there.” The abbot wiped a patch of sweat off his forehead. He must have been pacing the whole time he was here.

“I wasn’t.”

“Then where were you?”

“I spoke with Brother Camus.”

“You what?”

“He told me some pretty interesting things. Things that have

been troubling me for some time now, Linus. My friend, what have you gotten yourself into?”

“Merrick, how could you have fallen for such a poor ploy? Camus is trying to frame me, surely you can see that. He’s a lowly spy.”

“So you know?”

“Of course I know. I’m the abbot; I know everything that goes on in my abbey.”

“He had a pretty convincing argument.”

“Merrick, you know me. I would never do such a thing. Not for any reason.”

Merrick pulled the sigil from his pocket. It was time he confronted Carolinus with it and hopefully he would get some semblance of truth this time. “Is this your sigil, Linus?”

Linus looked at the top of his shoulder, where the sigil would normally be worn. “Oh, you found it. I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”

“That’s interesting, Linus, because Camus said he found it when he discovered Brother Thomas.”

“He said what?”

“He said he was gripping it in his lifeless hands.”

“Lies!” Carolinus screamed incredulously. “He lies. That sigil has been missing for several days. He must have stolen it and claimed he found it on Thomas.”

“Why would he do that?”

“To frame me, Merrick, don’t you see? How come he didn’t leave it there when the body was found? There were other monks there to witness the body before I ever came on the scene. And in the refectory, why did he mention that I was missing my sigil while he was in the presence of you? He’s set a trap for you, my friend, and you have fallen for it.”

Merrick tried to comprehend the madness this place now exuded. He had to admit there was some truth to what Linus was saying, but he felt he could no longer believe anything he was told. It appeared that anyone who came here had to cast up a façade in order to not be lost in a sea of lies, even his friend, the abbot. Deception to defend against more deception. It seemed like a difficult way to get things done.

“Where do you go every week on prayer night?”

Carolinus’ glare was as intimidating and frightening than any Merrick had ever seen. It was the look an animal gave once it was cornered and there were no other options but to fight. It was a look of intense anger and hatred, but also of terror. Merrick had hit Carolinus’ sore spot, and he considered retracting the statement, telling him that he didn’t have to answer, and asking him for his forgiveness, but it was too late. There was no going back now.

“Where do you go, Linus?”

The abbot’s glare turned to the floor. He had the look of defeat.

“How did he find out?” he mumbled to himself. “How is it possible? I was so careful. I’m a fool, I’m a fool!”

“Linus,” Merrick said as he grabbed the abbot’s arm, “get a hold of yourself.”

Carolinus looked up into his friend’s eyes. “It’s time I showed you something, Merrick. Come, come, I will take you there.”

“Take me where?”

“To see my daughter.”

#

Merrick said nothing the entire trip. A daughter? He had a million questions, each of them racking his brain, but they all came down to one. How could he have a daughter?

They arrived at the nearby city of Blankshire. The abbey was named after the city, but was actually several miles from there. It had taken two hours to reach Blankshire, and the night sky had replaced the daylight.

Carolinus knocked on the door of an enormous manor. It was obvious whomever lived here was not poor. A young woman answered, “Yes?”

“Lydia…” He let out an audible breath. “Is your grandmother home?”

“Yes, Abbot Carolinus, I’ll go get her.”

The girl closed the door, leaving Merrick and Linus waiting outside in the darkness. Merrick waited a few moments before asking, “Was she… the mother?”

“No, no,” Linus said with a twinge of regret. “No, she died at childbirth. Poor Emily…”

He sighed, resulting in another moment of silence.

The door opened and another woman appeared, only this one much older than the first.

“Abbot Carolinus, we were not expecting you for another few days.”

“I know, and I’m sorry Helen, but I had to come. Things have gotten-- complicated.”

“I see. You’re more than welcome here, dear Carolinus.”

Helen led the two to a large den, which was decorated with rich tapestries and vases, giving the room the appearance of being much smaller than it actually was. They were seated on extravagant velvet chairs patterned with vines. Merrick rubbed the elegant fabric and felt an immediate comfort.

“I assume you’re here because of what happened to Thomas?” she started off right away.

“So you’ve heard?”

“Of course I’ve heard. Everyone within a hundred miles has heard, probably farther.”

“Yes, I’m here indirectly because of that.”

“Indirectly?”

“I can’t keep up the ruse anymore, Helen. Too many people know.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure. I thought I was being careful, but evidently not careful enough. You know how the abbey can be.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure. The man who has possession of this information is very smart. I won’t be able to outwit him this time.”

“Is that what he’s for?” Helen asked pointing to Merrick.

“Oh, heavens no, Helen, I could never do that. You know I couldn’t kill one of my own.”

“He knows too much. You should eliminate him. So then, why is he here?”

“Helen, this is Merrick.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Merrick quickly added.

“The pleasure’s all mine. I’m Helen, Emily’s mother and Lydia’s grandmother. I assume you know who Emily is?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then you know what that makes Lydia?”

So that was why Linus had been so nervous around the girl who answered the door. Did Lydia know?

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What is he here for then?” she turned and asked Linus.

“He’s my friend, Helen, and the only person in the abbey I can trust. He’s a Messenger of the State--”

Helen leaped up at this bit of information. “How dare you bring a Messenger of the State into my home!”

“Helen, he’s trying to help--”

“I don’t care, get out. And you,” she scowled, pointing at Merrick, “you are the reason people like me are forced to live a life of unending torture. I don’t ever want to see the likes of you in my household again.”

Linus stared at her frozen to his seat. He had never seen her act like this before.

“Get out!” she yelled. “Get out! Leave now! I swear to the Creator, Carolinus, I’ll never let you see her again! Get out!”

Carolinus left.

#

“I have to flee, there’s no other choice,” His Holiness said, packing his bags back in his quarters at the abbey.

“Linus, where are you going to go?”

“Anywhere but here. First I have to go back to Blankshire. I’m sorry, Merrick, but you can’t go with to Helen’s this time.”

Merrick knew what that meant. Now would Helen allow the abbot to take his daughter with him?

“What’s to happen here?”

“I’m not sure, but I can’t stay to find out. I pray to the Creator you’ll discover the killer, Merrick, but in the mean time, I won’t be able to help you.”

“I’ll have to report you missing, you know.”

“I know,” he said, giving his friend a reassuring look.

“I suppose that can wait until the morning, though. I would be in bed at this time of night, and wouldn’t discover that you were gone until I resume the investigation after break fast.”

“Thank you, old friend. Perhaps we will meet again later in life.”

“Absolutely,” Merrick said, knowing that was unlikely.

“Come, walk with me. We can go as far as Blankshire, then you will have to come back here and finish your investigation.”

“I would be honored to walk with the High Abbot.”

It was another two hours to Blankshire, and after walking back and forth once already, Merrick was ready to just give up and go back right there. But this was the last he would ever see his friend, Carolinus, who had become the High Abbot of the most prestigious abbey in the kingdom. Two more hours, and he would be gone forever.

“Do you remember when we were young,” Linus recollected, “and we would steal treats off of Goodwife Hawthorne’s window?”

That brought a smile to Merrick’s face. “Yeah.”

“And then she would always say ‘Carolinus Mattock, you little demon. You’re going to grow up to be nothing but a common lowlife.’”

“She was a crazy old woman. You eventually grew up to be a High Abbot.”

“Yes, but she was still right. Look at what I’ve done with my life, Merrick. I’ve ruined it. All because I was weak that one time. That one time! Then Emily was pregnant. Can you believe that we actually considered going to a medicine woman?”

“We’re all weak at some point in our life, Linus. How are you any different?”

“I’m an abbot, a High Abbot. They don’t make mistakes. They don’t commit atrocious sins that force the Creator to punish them.”

So that’s what you consider Lydia to be, Merrick thought, a punishment.

They walked in silence the rest of the way.

As they approached Blankshire, their silence was broken by a girl’s voice screaming in terror. Merrick and Caroliuns shared a reluctant glance, then burst forward, straining to find the source of the distress call.

In the darkness of the night, it was hard to make her out, but once they had advanced far enough, it was much easier to visualize Linus’ daughter Lydia, and standing next to her with a dagger in hand was Brother Camus.

“Ah, just in time,” he hissed their way.

“Camus, what is going on? Why do you have Lydia?”

“You don’t know ‘Your Holiness’? You’re not nearly as smart as he had given you credit for.”

“What are you talking about? Who?”

“Thomas. He said you were too smart to fall for any attempts to get you out of office. He said he would wait until you were gone before he took up the office of High Abbot. But I had found a way. Thomas found out about your little excursions to Blankshire and what they meant. It must have taken a pretty girl to entice the High Abbot, no? I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore, seeing she’s dead and all.”

Linus went to take a step forward, but Merrick stopped him, seeing the point of the dagger hovering over Lydia’s larynx.

“Uh-uh, Carolinus. I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You wouldn’t want to see her pretty blood spilled all over the ground, now would you?”

“Damn you, Camus! Just leave her out of this. She has nothing to do with us!”

“Oh, you’re wrong about that, she has everything to do with us. She’s going to get me into your office. She’s going to get me the position of High Abbot.”

“You’re a fool if you think I can help you get that title, Camus. The high clergy are the ones who elect the abbot; I have nothing to do with the process.”

“Maybe,” Camus admitted, “but I have much better odds with the blessing of the former abbot. That is unless you want your precious daughter here to end up like that old hag I bled back in Blankshire. She begged for your forgiveness before I killed her, you know. It was quite pathetic.”

Linus grabbed his stomach and fell to his knees. He heaved onto the ground and let out a squeal of pure torture. “You’re going to die, Camus! You’ll not survive the night!”

“Don’t be so sure. I have her, and I know you won’t give her up. You go to see her every week.”

Lydia looked at the man on the ground, who she now knew to be her father. The look she gave him was one that tore a hole in Linus’ heart.

“Camus,” Merrick shouted, silent until now, “just give us the girl. Once the king finds out that it was you who killed Thomas, you will be sentenced to death for treason. Give us the girl, and we will let you go. We will tell no one.” He could send a bolt at him, but it was too risky. The blade was still too close to the girl to attempt it.

“So you figured it out after all?”

“Of course. It only makes sense.”

“Yes, it is true, I killed him, and I tried to frame the abbot too. But Thomas was weak, Merrick, much weaker than I had expected. He wouldn’t use the information to strip Carolinus from office. I begged him, I even offered to do it myself. But he wouldn’t let me. That was when I knew he wasn’t fit to be High Abbot. No, I knew I was the true choice.”

“So you killed him?” Merrick objected.

“Oh yes, but not after I drained everything he knew from his pathetic mind. Did you have trouble identifying the magic used in the refectory, Merrick? That’s a spell I concocted while I was there. Oh, yes Merrick, my culinary skills are not exclusive to the kitchen. My talents are far greater than even yours.”

Merrick felt the gift in him rise up in challenge, but he subdued it. It was much too risky to just start launching bolts everywhere. He didn’t know what kind of power Camus possessed or what he could do with it, so instead he attempted to talk him into making a rash mistake, one he could take advantage of.

“Why High Abbot, Camus? He has no real power.”

“Look at me, Merrick. I’m the abbey’s cook. I was Thomas’ lapdog. I need to start somewhere and High Abbot is just the right place. It would have put me in the perfect spot to gather information. Do you know how many dignitaries and high clergy visit the Abbey? I would tell you to ask Carolinus there, if he wasn’t so utterly piteous at the moment. You’d be surprised how much you can learn from the mind. And Thomas’ was most fascinating. Trust me, Messenger, he knows much about the king and his vulnerabilities.”

“Then you truly seek to betray the kingdom, Camus. As a Messenger of the State, I cannot allow you to continue your life. You are now a prisoner of the state.”

“I wouldn’t.” He placed the dagger so close to Lydia’s throat that it broke the skin, sending droplets of blood running down her neck.

Merrick had to make a terrible choice then. He had to end it here; Camus was too dangerous to let go. Lydia’s life was already forfeit. If only he could somehow get Camus’ attention distracted just enough…

From his side, Linus let out a delirious shriek and rushed his daughter’s captor. Camus started violently and cursed at the man surging for him. He let go of the girl and sent a burst of flame forth, casting Linus to the ground as if he were a rag doll.

From behind him, the sound of an arrow zipped past and hit Camus in the thigh. He wailed ferociously and went for Lydia. Another arrow came from the shadows and found its target. Camus dropped the dagger and fell to the ground.

Merrick gathered a ball of magic and prepared to defend against whatever might send another arrow from the woods. “Who’s out there?” he demanded in a voice that suggested he was not fooling around.

“Hold on there, Messenger!” a voice came from the edge of the trees. “We are friends. Put your magic away, you’ll not be needing it.”

“Identify yourselves.”

“Aye, Merrick. There are two of us. We’re men of King Ganute.”

“Your names?” Merrick could easily see the two now, closing in on him and the girl.

“Our true names are not important, but here in Blankshire, we are known as Brothers Antonis and Timos.”

“The madman and the deaf-mute?”

“Indeed, Messenger.”

“How is that possible?”

“You don’t believe everything you see, do you?”

“No,” Merrick laughed, “I guess not.”

#

The two caskets were lowered, side by side in the most honored of places in the cemetery, next to the founder’s mausoleum. Lydia watched with forlorn eyes. She had been in shock after her father’s death, but eventually, Merrick had helped her out of it. The funerals of Carolinus Mattock, High Abbot of Blankshire Abbey, and Thomas Ganute, beloved brother of the king, had drawn an enormous crowd. It gave Lydia some solace that her father had been so loved.

Merrick still had some unanswered questions, but he figured they would never get answered in a place such as Blankshire Abbey. He instead tried to focus on what was going to happen next.

“So where are you going to go?” Lydia asked her new friend.

“Wherever the king asks me to.” Merrick replied.

“You don’t suppose I could go with you?”

He had almost let her die and that question had once again reminded him of that. “No, not where I’m going.”

“That’s too bad. I would really have liked to go. I no longer have anyone here.”

“Antonis and Timos are charged with your safety now. King Ganute has decided to give you refuge within his own personal residence. He’ll have something of a life for you.” Lydia lifted her silk handkerchief to her face and wiped away a tear.

“He’s a good person, this King Ganute?”

“Yeah,” Merrick muttered, “I guess.”

“Then I shall be treated well.” It was a statement rather than a question.

“Yes.”

“Will we ever meet again, Merrick?”

“Absolutely.” For the first time in his life, Merrick truly believed the answer to that question.