Chapter 4 - Part VI

"Gregor." he nudged the dozing young man, "What is to become of us now? Where do we go from here?"

The half asleep young man on the oak thread wicker chair was roused from his cat nap, but it was the groggy Davin who responded finally. "We must get you out of Eirdred as soon as possible." The blue-black blindfolded man's legs rested on the pallet but he had managed to pull himself to lean against the wall. His black tight tunic were moist with the cold sweat of overexertion, but if the man had any emotional opinion about Cedric's future in his voice, Cedric could not detect it.

Yet he could not stomach the thought. In Eirdred, in his service to the Archne household, Cedric knew who he was. He understood his physical shortcomings and made the best of his talents. In the Archne District, this had brought him some measure of stability and security. A bride of Eirdred ethnicity, from the Treleth District, had already been promised to him before the year's end. His loyalty to his lord and lands had not been misplaced.

Now, all he could think about was leaving the only place in the world he had ever known; Eirdred. The outside world offered him nothing but the the ever present threat of security disassembled. Boyhood memories as clear as if he were living them now pervaded his thoughts. Memories of a sister who left the great gates out of Southly Road to start a life as a merchant. Memories of their parents receiving her corpse in place of a letter two years later.

Whispers of the Eirdren in the streets, hearkening to the calls of the five other keepers Heilth had declared Rel's equal over 300 years ago, haunted Cedric's daily prayers. In its own city, that the Keeper Rel, no, the proud, ancient male god Rel, his protector and guardian, could be cast aside in favor of the weak Rüern and the lascivious Vera, patrons of Lithen and Sandor, bode poorly for the future of his well structured civilization. The pride of Eirdred had been sullied when mere Lithenese and Sandorian merchants, once vassals to Center City's mighty Augur and her battlements, learned to address his former lord with the casual air of familiarity. The streets of Center City and the outskirts of the lords' districts were marred by the influx of brown and ghost white peoples; the Outer Crest and Heilth spread their people around the globe like a disease. As the sickness advanced, Cedric had walled himself into the world of pure Eirdred, in service to the houses that had existed long before the Heilth name was ever cursed upon. Now he would live the infection.

"But this is my home," he whimpered to the man. From Davin, the Archne chef met with silence.

"And should you remain it will be your grave." Gregor interjected, "Do not be fooled into thinking there is salvation in these walls. There is no guessing in this matter. You will die should you stay here. You will be put to the sword if you are lucky, but more likely your torture to this point will have just been a prelude. Accept it, your life here is over."

Fat tears began to well up in his eyes and his lip quivered slightly, but Cedric had enough pride to attempt to cover his shame.

"Stop that." Even as he scolded, Gregor could not help but feel the bully upon the pale Cedric. Yet the man was trying his patience. "Your new life is to begin. The Silent Scholar needs you."

In his capacity as a servant of an Eirdren Lord, Cedric had learned early on, not to ask questions. Questions received dangerous, compromising answers. Questions were the opening bow in sophisticated dances that would only trip him up. Answer could only serve to confuse and imperil him. What the Empress needed with him was beyond his understanding, but it was preferable to accept the information as is than to ask questions.

Pride finally failing him, Cedric frothed his consent and nodded, though his heart spoke harsher words. Rel, send your host to claim vengeance on my loss. Do not let these heathens, with their false Keepers, bring harm to your faithful.

The conversation was laid to rest as all attention was directed to the creaking oak wood door. Vaughn bei'thal had returned.

"Here", he barked, tossing a light grey linen satchel to Cedric. "You will need new attire if we are to get you out of the city."

"What of Anita and the Nü girl? They have not yet awaken." Gregor asked his superior. Both men served as bei'thal, Keepers of the Compromised, but Vaughn had been the ears of the Silent Scholar for more than two thirds of his life. His raven black hair instantly identified him of Heitlth blood, though his ample and thick facial hair suggested mingling in his ancestry. Nevertheless, he had become bei'thal long before the order had been formally recognized, during the early years of the experiments that would lead to the creation of the bei, the compromised. His loyalty was never to be forgotten among those who knew of the bei and their keepers. Gregor was reminded of the man's seniority a great deal particularly in the past few days.