Dumb

Gloved hands flexed round both his knife hilts as he stepped along the gravel path towards the church.  As he pushed against the church door it creaked so loud he was sure the dead would hear the eek from their graves. Gently he closed the door behind himself and looked on at his master, who was sat at a shrine, counting silver coins into a pull string money pouch. Should you use a shrine to count out your gradually increasing wealth? If deities existed doing so might anger them.

He crossed through the public area of church between the pews, his boot prints following in the dust. Too much dust which they ought to sweep away if they were going to spend fourteen days in this grotty church.

“I’m assuming your night was successful,” said Freyr, without bothering to lift his head from his coins.

In answer he dropped his blood stained blades on top of Freyr’s counting. Silver spilled onto the floor. Freyr pursed thin lips to contain himself from no doubt lecturing him about throwing his knives around so carelessly.

He walked on by the shrine. Freyr got up from his stool and, ouch, his shoulders got pinched. With a sweep Freyr shoved him onto the floor. He banged onto his knees in the pile of spilled coins. Under his master’s strict gaze he collected coins into his hands.

“I don’t understand why you fight me at every corner. Need I have to keep reminding you, it was I who took you in? I am even teaching you a profession and you repay me by throwing around expensive equipment,” said Freyr.

He hardly needed reminding when it was all he ever heard at the end of every lecture. Maybe he was acting out of order. Least ways Freyr never failed to provide for him. He found a short smile for his master and gave a nod on handing him a fistful of coins. When all the coins were safely out the dust he took up his knives then went to the back of the church where there was a door. Behind this door was a staircase which he climbed all the way to the top. All that was up here was a bedroom. Freyr used the bedroom. He had to make do with climbing a rope ladder, into a cobweb infested attic. At least there was a hole in the tiled roof that acted as a window. He pulled off his black gloves and put them into a trunk, then took out a white tunic and tan trousers. These he changed into, glad to have gotten rid of the tight black garments. Felt good to shake his hair from the short pony-tail too. A lot less assassin like he ducked under a rafter, and sat down beside the hole in the roof where he kept his cleaning rag.

Unable to face the blood stains on the blades, he looked out to the stars as he rubbed the rag against the blades. Always clean up the evidence to keep the blade in good order. Why the mayor of town had had to die, he did not know. Freyr said the mayor of Violet Town had been an enemy who had worked out they were merchants rather than priests; they must kill him or he would have taken away their profits for telling lies. A lot of people wanted to steal away with their profits these days or so he was told. It was always a wonder if there was any truth to those words.

He dangled a leg out the roof as a crow flew by, watched it fly, wishing he could be as free as him. If he had wings he would fly away from Freyr, go some place where there was less trouble. Complications and blood followed Freyr round and it was him sweeping away all the messes. He’d hate to be the mayor’s wife in the morning. Knowing he would never get to sleep with the mayor’s last dying breaths panting in his ears, he kept on staring at the night.

Was staring until dawn when he saw something that made him lean right out the gap in the tiles. Crunching along the gravel path were two young men. One of which was walking with a serious stride while his companion was more sloppy, and was taking the time to stop every so often to read epigraphs on tomb stones. What really interested him were the weapons they carried. He squeezed his own knives which were rather expensive, their hilts were deep black as were the blades. These young men had broadswords in sapphire sheaths. If the sheaths were sapphire what would the blades look like? They might be sharper than his blades and Freyr said you couldn’t get much sharper.

The young men were coming into the church. Right on cue his master was ready to greet them. Hardly anyone ever came to the church or at least they never had done when they stayed here for a couple of weeks every summer. Curious to know what they wanted he left the attic, carefully treaded downstairs to spy on what they were doing. As they came inside, Freyr pretended to be a welcoming priest; was even wearing a white priest’s robe, which he kept chucked behind a pew in case of emergencies like this one. The less serious of the two young men bent forwards with his arms crossed on top of a pew, while his companion stood his tallest, doing his best to tower over Freyr.

“I cannot say how much of a pleasure it is to have some visitors come to worship our shrine to, The Great Pek: Bringer of Crops, although you two don’t look as though you care much for crops.”

“Can’t say we do, priest,” said Mister Serious.

“We thought your church was deserted you know because it’s so derelict,” said Mister Casual.

“What my friend means to say is sorry to disturb you,” said Mister Serious.

“Ah well it is kind of derelict. I only arrived two days ago and am practically running the place single handed.”

Single handed. Yes with his hands. He folded his arms and glared at Freyr from the doorway he was stood in. His glaring must have been harsh because it caused the freer speaking man to give him a hello type smile. Freyr never missed an expression, and saw the man’s smile, then twisted round to see what caught his attention, and was soon to turn round again.

“Don’t mind Eagle. He’s dumb. Can’t speak, actually can’t do anything worthwhile. I doubt he even understands me. Isn’t that right?”

His hand doubled up as a fist as Freyr kept talking. Sure he’d never been able to speak like everybody else but having that disadvantage did not make him dumb. Even though Freyr always made him out to be simple it did not stop the hurt. Lots of intelligent thoughts happened to cross through his mind. Oh what did any of it matter? He slumped down onto a pew, pretending not to be listening to the insults.

“I took the lad in because I felt sorry for him. He’s been with me since he was about three. Something never developed properly up there but we get by.”

He tried to yell out he wasn’t dumb and felt himself choking on his tongue, so stopped quick before he aroused too much attention.

“See what did I tell you dumb? He’s choking himself now. Stop that Eagle!”

“Eagle?” said Mister Serious.

“Yes unusual wouldn’t you say? Being named after a bird is hardly a name at all. Besides eagles are sharp so it really doesn’t suit him.”

Enough was enough. Freyr could keep up making him out to be dumb but he wasn’t going to listen in fear of going over to them and giving Freyr a crack round the head. As he went outside he wondered if he would be able to get away with beating up his degrading master now he was older. Older and feeling rebellious however that did not give him any right to be disrespectable towards the man who had taken him in and taught him to... taught him to what? He sat underneath a cherry blossom tree at the back of church in the graveyard. Spooky. Taught him to.... yes taught him combat.

He picked up a fallen blossom and pinched it in-between his thumb and forefinger. So trapped. What was there to enjoy from combat? He never took any pleasure from assassinating people. Maybe some people did. Malicious people. He must be malicious or he would have stood up against Freyr already; told him he wasn’t going to kill for him anymore, at least without having solid reasons for the killings. Problem being he couldn’t tell anybody anything. He pulled his finger back. A slight breeze caught the blossom; it floated away from him, on a new journey, somewhere more blossom-like probably.

“What a lovely day, wouldn’t you say?”

Oh boy, why’d Mister Casual followed him outside? All he wanted to do was sit under this tree and enjoy the warm day without getting hassled by anyone.

“It’s much better out here than in your church sweeping and dusting. Lanzo offered you see. I think he felt sorry for your Freyr. Lanzo he’s my friend. I’m Sasha.”

He folded his arms and refused to look up. Freyr had made him out to be dumb so it would look suspicious if he did not play along. Making no reaction burnt his throat as though he wanted to scream out everything no one knew. Sasha sat with him, looking straight ahead, as though watching what he was looking at.

He closed his eyes. Black. A lone.

“Graveyards don’t look quite so eerie in the daylight. You wouldn’t think those tombstones were a corpse’s front door.”

He opened one eye and swivelled it onto the nearest tombstone. Doorways, he had never seen tombstones as being doorways before. To him they were more like shrines for people to come grieve at.

“I expect if someone was to use a sprinkle of dark magic they could knock on a tombstone to wake up the sleeper.”

Dodgy. He closed his eye. Talking about dark magic would get Sasha into serious trouble with a priest at a church, then again Freyr wasn’t a real priest, and this church had been forgotten about up until two days ago. Sasha poked at his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still which resulted in him getting poked again and again and again, until he gave in and opened his eye for a second time.

“I’d a feeling you’d get annoyed at my prodding after a minute or two,” said Sasha and mirrored his crossed arms. “Is annoyance the emotion you’re feeling?” Total silence hung in the air until Sasha opened his mouth again. “You could always nod if you’re annoyed or shake your head if you’re not.”

He merely blinked as Sasha preformed these actions as he said them.

I’m sixteen not two, was what he would say, if he had the capability to do so.

“Alright then you’re indifferent to answer my question. It must be awful not being able to speak. Then again it means you can’t get yourself into bother. My mouth has landed me in all sorts of trouble. I was kind of shocked to hear Freyr call you dumb. There must be another word for it. Even though you can’t say them, doesn’t mean words don’t mean something to you.”

His thumb rubbed at his elbow. Words meant an awful lot because what people said about him hurt.

“Plus I’m sure you must have some sort of talent, everyone’s good at something. Me, mines the sword.” Sasha tapped his hilt then grinned at him.

Why was he grinning? Oh right his eyes were staring right at the sheath. Idiot. His eyes had focused on something related to conversation which meant he didn’t look completely gormless, like Freyr would want. Sasha placed the sheath onto his knee. Was really heavy. He pretended to ignore the swords presence by staring into space.

“I’ve killed a few spirits with that. I’m quite famous in Azure actually. “

Famous? He smiled. There was no way, Sasha could be famous for he had never heard of a famous person going by the name of Sasha, and he’d travelled far on the back of Freyr’s merchant cart. Then again he’d never been to Azure because that city happened to be over the mountains in the land of Zoticas. Freyr detested that country meaning they never travelled there.

“Ah a smile. You have heard of me right?”

He wanted to shake his head in response but on he stared, kept up the smile, making it dopey looking. This caused Sasha to ruffle his hair. His cheeks flamed up. Trying to distract himself from the embarrassment he ran his hand along the sheath. So smooth. Sasha may not be famous but must be important to own such a valuable sword, unless he had stolen it.

“I kill spirits and between you and me I’ve not come to Kazara for the good of my health.” Sasha took back his sword. “You wouldn’t happen to know if there are any secret labyrinths lurking under your church would you? I think it’s silly me asking really. Why would a priest and his apprentice be involved with labyrinths? Lanzo will be subtly quizzing Freyr on the subject right now. It’s ridiculous; I can tell you’d have nothing to do with dark rituals, and Freyr seems like a simple soul. He must be simple if he goes round calling you dumb.”

Secret labyrinths and dark rituals. Why would these things be involved in their church? Maybe there was a secret labyrinth under the church. They wouldn’t know seen as they only came here for a summer break. It was a quiet place for Freyr to get his accounts in order and plan out the autumn. To his knowledge that was the only reason they came here. Freyr pulled some crazy stunts but he couldn’t see him being involved in dark rituals because what really interested Freyr was wealth.

He tilted his head in Sasha’s direction. This man wasn’t taking him as dumb. Everyone else did. They always took Freyr’s word at face value then would ignore him, well some cruel people would snigger or laugh, or give him a few patronising words.

“You know the word dumb don’t you? You’re not, you’re vocally challenged. Me too. I talk too much whereas you don’t talk at all. Want to take some of my words off me?”

He sighed. He would if he could and wasn’t vocally challenged either. He wanted to talk so much, tried lots. What could he say? He just didn’t have a voice.

“So what do you do for fun round here?” Sasha got up from the floor, walked round the cherry blossom tree, then continued onto a path through the graveyard. Snooping that was what was going off here. Lanzo would be looking for secret labyrinths inside while Sasha was poking round out here for them. The nerve, being friendly to try get answers out of him. Getting up he followed after Sasha. He wondered if Freyr had wised up to the reasoning why Lanzo was actually sweeping the church for him.

“Following me hey?”

He stared round in a daze then walked in a new direction, purposely tripped into a tombstone. Sasha grabbed hold of his elbow and pulled him upright.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind you walking with me. This must be the biggest graveyard I’ve ever seen. We mainly burn corpses where I come from. I don’t know if I’d like to be buried or burned. How about you?”

He couldn’t say it was something he’d ever thought about before. What was more interesting was how Sasha kept talking to him, even though he never made any reaction to his talking. At least hardly any reaction, he would accidently cast him the odd smile now and again. Freyr would clout him if he knew, however it felt good to have someone take interest in him. The accidental smiles turned to more on purpose smiles. This could not go on or suspicion was bound to rise. Or not, Sasha did not seem the suspicious type, seemed he was being genuinely friendly because after they tramped all the way round the graveyard Sasha went nowhere. They ended up back under the cherry blossom tree.

“It’s not just the church that’s run down. If Lanzo offers we clear away all these weeds and over-grown grass in your graveyard I shall do a disappearing act in search of a tavern.”

Forgetting all about Freyr for a moment, he nodded his agreement and Sasha nudged him in the side with his elbow. Someone other than his master was actually communicating with him in a positive way. No getting called names or being pitied. He snapped back into reality as soon as leaving, for Freyr was on his way over to them, with Lanzo a step behind.

“I hope the lad hasn’t been bothering you,” Freyr said in his most fakest jovial of tones.

“And I hope my friend was not bothering your apprentice,” said Lanzo.

“Me bothering? We were taking a stroll round the grounds. How did the big sweep up go?”

Lanzo shook out his sleeve, sending a shower of dust into the grass. “The floor is clear. You should get your apprentice to help you clear away the cobwebs.”

Freyr clasped his hands atop his shoulders and gave a slight squeeze. “This one would be more hindrance than help. Best I do them myself. Thanks again for your generosity. It is a shame you’re leaving so soon. I feel terrible not making you lunch for your troubles.”

“Yes well we want to get as close to the mountains as possible before nightfall, so we can have a clear shot at crossing them in the morning.”

“Awh Lanzo, lunch sounds like a good idea.” Sasha gave his stomach a prod. “We both know your cooking tastes bland.”

“I would like to see you do better,” Lanzo harked. “Besides you haven’t earned any lunch what with you dawdling idly round the graveyard.”

“I was talking to Eagle actually.”

“Hrm while his master and I were hard at work.” Lanzo pulled a pack he was carrying further up his shoulder then turned to Freyr. “We really have to be on our way. It has been a pleasure to have met you. All the best with your preaching.”

“Ah spreading word of our glorious deities is never done. Safe travels, gentle sirs,” Freyr burst out all jovial.

Sasha waved in his direction. He would have waved back had Freyr not been gripping onto his shoulders. The grip tightened as Lanzo and Sasha got further away from the graveyard then out the gate, onto the path. He wished it were possible to follow after them seen as Freyr was building himself up for an explosion.

“Sneaky b******s, coming to our holiday home to snoop around. You should have heard that Lanzo casually raving on about secret labyrinths; trying to catch me out. Nothing to worry about of course, I soon sussed his game and got him talking about his own business instead of mine.” Freyr relaxed the grasp on his shoulders, gave a few deep breaths, then let go completely. “Did his shadow have anything interesting to say?”

Only the same thing about secret labyrinths by the sounds. He gave a shrug.

“What’s this mean?” Freyr demanded and imitated his shrugging. “Maybe is not good enough. Let me make this easier. Did Lanzo’s shadow mention secret labyrinths to you?”

He nodded.

“Did he talk of anything else?”

Sure, he had said lots of genuine friendly words without being patronising. Lanzo’s shadow made him feel like he was actually more than an apprentice to some dodgy merchant who made him assassinate people for getting in their way. None of those words were important. He shook his head.

“Hurh questioning a retarded teenager what disgusting behaviour.”

He clapped a hand over his mouth and raised an eyebrow to show sarcasm.

Freyr grinned at him. “Yes yes, pretending you’re dumb is rather sick but you’d think gentlemen would know better than to question a retarded needy teenager. Well Lanzo was a gentleman.” Freyr’s fingers tapped his shoulder. “You do know it’s all pretence don’t you? You’re sharper than most. So you can’t talk, read or write, you can still sort out my stock and you’re quite the assassin. You would be, being taught your skills by me.”

What Freyr did not know was Sasha had brought the lie however saw something else if that made any sense, it did inside his head. Sasha was too kind to call someone dumb. He gave a real smile figuring right that moment Freyr was looking out for his best interests; the one unseen kindest of acts. Family you couldn’t choose them and this merchant was the only family he’d ever known.

“And before you look at me with your questioning eyes, no I know nothing about secret labyrinths. This is our holiday home right?” Freyr sat himself underneath the cherry blossom tree. “I’m not saying there aren’t any secret labyrinths, there could very well be. But I’m no preacher am I?”

True enough. Freyr threw off the priest’s robe and stretched himself out on the grass, taking advantage of the shade the tree gave him. He however stayed directly in the sun’s burning beam and did one of his infamous handstands that turned into a back flip. Two back flips, three. He always stumbled on the fourth. He stumbled then, almost went over on his wrist however managed to roll himself away before too much pressure was applied to the wrist.

“I wish you’d be more careful. When you break your neck it’ll be me digging your grave. Not to mention thirteen years of training gone to waste.”

Thirteen years was a long time. Abandoning his acrobatics he went and sat next to his master. The passing of time showed on Freyr, whose hair was gaining grey streaks. Come to think of it those grey streaks came on rather suddenly. He supposed one day greyness came all at once.

The rest of their day was lazy. Freyr sat chattering away about the past and what future would hold in store for them. The future sounded prosperous.

Author's Note

Any kind of feedback is welcome. Hope you enjoy reading the story.