Out of Darkness: Chapter 4 - Marbach's Pauns

"Make way. Make way for the sacred riders of the Waarheid.” Kaptein Quin Mott cried. Varro Augustin rode silently beside him on his black warhorse, watching those on the narrow street quickly move aside and stare wide eyed. Augustin liked this back-way in to the city. It drew less attention to their return from these little excursions for Pai Marbach. The streets were narrow and uneven through these poorer sections of Autoria. With the residences so close and tall on either side there was not much air flow, and the smells of fresh laundry, cook fires, and excrement hung in the air. On horseback, the group of them took up almost the entire street. Ten Sacred Warriors together were a sight at any time, but they were quite fearful to behold up close and spattered in mud and blood.

"I can't wait to wash this filth off of me," Quin muttered. Augustin nodded in agreement. This had been a dirty business. They brought back what Pai Marbach wanted, but it had been three long weeks on the road with three of them dead. Three good men dead. A steep price. He wondered how Protector Haar had fared on his mission, and if he might be back in Autoria. He felt the need to talk with Haar about these favors they did for Pai Marbach.

"You have been quiet Protector, tell me, was it worth it?" Quin often said aloud what he had been thinking. Perhaps it was the bond between his men and himself. Sometimes he thought that his mind reached out and touched his men in some way.

"Was what worth it." Varro Augustin said.

"Three Warrior lives," Quin spat on the ground. “For some dusty old books and this worthless fat pig.” He cocked his head toward a prisoner who rode with them, hands bound behind his back, and looking so tired he could barely stay on the horse.

“Our lives are in service to the Waarheid. So are our deaths," He said.

"We serve the one faith, true. But we do not answer to any Pai." Quin shook his head.

“Sometimes, to serve the one God Erus, we must do what is asked by those who are called in other ways. Higher ways.” Augustine thought of the day he met Pai Marbach. That day changed his life. His hand went to the Anam in his chest and he thought of the gift that the Holy Pai had given him. The gift that compelled him to do anything that Marbach asked.

"Higher ways," Quin rolled his eyes. "If I had my way…"

"Do you tire of serving under me, Kaptein? Do you want me to release you from your oath?"

"Of course not, protector. I'm just tired of carrying out every whim of this high and mighty priest. He stays safe within his temple walls while we spill our blood." Quin clenched his teeth and breathed heavily through his nose.

"They were your friends. I understand that. But we serve." He locked eyes with Quin, "You serve at my whim. And if I choose to assist the Most Holy Pai Marbach then you will not question me or what is worth what." Quin released the tension in his jaw, exhaled and nodded.

"Yes, Protector." Quin said.

Augustin knew the matter wasn't settled. If Quin had spoken up then he knew this was the feeling among his men. He knew very well what he was, what they were; game pieces on a board. This did not trouble him. Pai Marbach was the game master and for ten years he had not failed in playing his part in Marbach’s sacred mission. What troubled him was not knowing what the game was or what the most holy Pai’s mission was.

At first just having a holy task to fulfill was enough. It’s not enough anymore for my men. I may not be enough for me much longer. Another captured game piece rode behind him along with the property Marbach sent them after. What does he want with these people? And why do I never see them again when I bring them back? He catalogued them in his mind: Eemil, an orphan taken from elderly couple. Jiama, a young servant woman in an Inn. Tamar, a young man, and Una his aunt who were living in some old ruins in the wild. And this did not include the game of finding old books, letters, journals, and artifacts, many of which were purposely hidden and well protected.

He dropped back among his men, letting Quin lead them on, until he was next to the man they had prisoner. He was a large well fed man with an unruly beard. His face was bruised and one eye was nearly swollen shut. Augustine had long given up on asking questions of these game pieces. They were always silent after being taken, but he thought this one might be different.

“Tell me your name.” Augustine said. The man raised his head slowly with some effort and saw who was speaking to him.

“Aaron,” the man answered.

“How long have you had these in your possession?” Augustin gestured toward the small chest tied to the back of his horse.

“Longer than you have lived, dog,” Aaron said.

“Watch your tongue. Or we’ll cut it out!” One of his men said from behind them. Augustine held up his hand, signaling that this was just not idle conversation.

“A very long time. How did you come by them?” Augustin’s voice was casual, soothing, almost uninterested.

“They were my father’s, and…” Aaron’s lower lip trembled and his voice cracked. “And his before him, and his before him.” Aaron composed himself and fixed his eyes on Augustine. “Mine to protect. Until they were needed. Until…” The man stopped himself, realizing that he was about to say something he would regret.

Augustine resisted the urge to ask Until what? And instead asked, “Then men who attacked us on the road, friends of yours?”

“No, not my friends.” Aaron, dropped his eyes.

“Friends of these books then? Seems strange to attack a well armed group of the Sacred Order for some musty old scribblings.” At first Augustine thought he was not going to answer. He tried his best to give the man an earnest look as if he was just interested in what he had to say. Then something in the man’s eyes lit up, as if rising to a challenge.

“Some call you lord protectors. Protectors of your faith. These were protectors of another kind. Of another faith you could say.”

“There is but one true faith and one true God, my friend. And, as always, our faith carried the day. Tell me, what faith was this we defeated?” Augustine smiled now. He knew he would get his answer.

Aaron returned his smile and said, “The Fad Matka.” Augustine’s smile vanished and he felt a nervous twist in his stomach. The fallen ones. Demons. He looked behind him but none of his men had heard what Aaron said. He had heard enough.

The small side street suddenly opened into a large open square with a fountain the center. They spilled into the bustle and turned to the right. Just ahead of them stood two great metal doors that were twice as tall as any man. They gleamed golden in the sunlight, and as if sensing their approach, a horn sounded and they began to open. These were actually the west doors, the back doors of the great Temple of Autoria. It sat in the center of the city with a public square on every side so that worshipers could gather around when there was not room enough inside for all. The temple was the hub of a city laid out like a wheel were all roads lead out from or into the Temple.

Augustine dismounted and approached Quin. “See that everyone has a bed, food, and fresh clothes. I must bring our catch to the Holy Pai immediately.” And it’s time the Holy Pai let me in on the game we are playing.