Part 2 (1/2)

There was so much about the world that Braygan failed to comprehend. People mystified him. How could men ga/e upon the wonders of the mountains, or the glories of the night sky, and not understand the pettiness of human ambition? Fearing death, as all men did, how could they so easily visit death upon others? Braygan could not stop thinking about the hanging bodies he had seen before the burning buildings. They had not merely been strung up by their necks. They had been beaten and tortured first. The young priest could not imagine how anyone could find pleasure in such deeds. And yet they surely had, for it was said there was much laughter in the crowd as the hapless victims were dragged to their places of execution.

The young priest sat at the bedside of Brother Labberan, spoonfeeding him vegetable broth. Occasionally he would stop and dab a napkin to Labberan's mouth. The left side of the older priest's face was swollen and numb, and the broth dribbled from his mouth to his chin.

'Are you feeling a little stronger, Brother?' asked Braygan.

'A little,' answered Labberan, his words slurred. Splints had been applied to both of his forearms, and his hands were also swollen and blue with bruises. There was an unhealthy sheen on the man's thin face. Close to sixty years old Labberan was not strong, and the beating had been severe. Braygan saw a tear form, and slowly trickle down the old priest's face.

'Are you in pain still, Brother?'

Labberan shook his head. Braygan put aside the bowl of broth. Labberan closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. The young priest rose silently from the bedside and left the small room. He took the broth bowl to the lower kitchens and cleaned it. Several other priests were there, preparing the midday meal. Brother Anager approached him.

'How is he?' asked the little man. 'Did my broth sit well with him? It was always his favourite.'

'He ate well, Anager. I am sure he liked it.'

Anager nodded and seemed relieved. Small and round-shouldered, he had a nervous tic that caused his head to twitch as he spoke. It was most disconcerting to Braygan. 'It was the boys, you know,' said Anager. 'They hurt him the worst.'

'The boys?'

'His boys. From the church school.'

Braygan was nonplussed. Two days a week Labberan would travel in to the community hall, offering lessons in writing and arithmetic. He would also tell stories of the Source and His wonders. Teaching children was Labberan's joy. 'Our future lies with the young,' he would say. 'They are the foundations. Only through the young can we hope to eradicate hatred.'

'What about his boys?' asked Braygan.

'After Labberan was beaten by the mob some of the children came to where he lay and kicked him. You think it is over now, Brother Braygan?'

'Yes. Yes, I think so. Everything seems calmer.'

'It is these Arbiters, you know,' said Anager. 'They stir up trouble. Is it true that Brother Lantern thrashed one of them?'

'He did not thrash anyone. The man was clumsy and fell badly.'

'It is said that there have been many killings in the capital,' said Anager, blinking rapidly.

He lowered his voice. 'It is even said they might loose the beasts. What if they come here?'

'Why would they allow the beasts to come here? The war is in the south and east.'

'Yes. Yes, you are right. Of course you are. They won't send beasts here. I saw one, you know. I went to the Games earlier this year. Ghastly. Huge. Four men went in against it. It killed them all. Horrible. Part bear, they said. Dreadful. A monstrosity. It is so wrong, Braygan. So wrong.'

Braygan agreed, and thought it best not to point out that priests were forbidden to watch blood sports.

He left the kitchens and made his way up to the lower hall and out into the vegetable gardens. Several of the brothers were working there. As Braygan arrived they asked after Brother Labberan. He told them he thought him a little better today, though a part of his mind considered that to be wishful thinking. Brother Labberan was a broken man in more ways than one. For an hour Braygan worked alongside them, planting tubers taken carefully from large brown sacks. Then he was summoned to the abbot's study.

Braygan was nervous as he stood outside the door. He wondered which of his many errors had been pointed out to the abbot. He was supposed to have organized the mending of the chapel roof, but the new lead for the flas.h.i.+ng had not arrived. Then there was the error with the dyes. It had not been his fault. The sack had split as he was adding the yellow. It should only have been two measures. More like ten had spilled into the vat. The result was a horrible, unusable orange colour, which had to be flushed away. It wouldn't have happened had Brother Naslyn not borrowed the measuring jug.

Braygan tapped at the door, then entered. The abbot was sitting by a small fire. He bade Braygan take a seat. 'Are you well, Younger Brother?' he asked.

'I am well, Elder Brother.'

'Are you content?'

Braygan did not understand the question. 'Content? Er . . . in what way?'

'With your life here.'

'Oh yes, Elder Brother. I love the life.'

'What is it that you love about it, Braygan?'

'To serve the Source and to ... and to help people.'

'Yes, that is why we are here,' said the old man, looking at him keenly. 'That is what we are expected to say. But what do you love about it?'

'I feel safe here, Elder Brother. I feel this is where I belong.'

'And is that why you came to us? To feel safe?'

'In part, yes. Is that wrong?'

'Did you feel safe when the man attacked you in the town?'

'No, Elder Brother. I was very frightened.'

The abbot looked away, staring into the fire. He seemed lost in thought and Braygan said nothing. At last Cethelin spoke again.

'How is Brother Labberan faring?'

'He is not improving as fast as he should. His spirits are very low. His wounds are healing, though. I am sure that in a few days he will begin to recover.'

The abbot returned his gaze to the fire. 'Brother Lantern thinks we should leave. He believes the mob will gather once more and seek to do us harm.'

'Do you think that?' whispered Braygan, his heart beginning to pound. 'It cannot be true,'

he went on, before the abbot could answer. 'No, it is getting calmer now. I think that the attack on Brother Labberan was an aberration. They will have had time to think about the evil of their deeds. They will understand that we are not enemies. We are their friends. Do you not think so?'

'You come from a large town, don't you, Braygan?' said the abbot.

'Yes, Elder Brother.'

'Did many people own dogs there?'

'Yes.'

'Were there sheep in fields close to the town?'