The Domes of Calrathia

Chapter Eleven: The Hand of Mercy

I raced back to the house, though the sun was setting by the time I arrived back. Navigating the streets of Terminus was not difficult, but I was in such anguish and frenzy that I made several wrong turns. Finally, I arrived at the door breathless and exhausted. 

Argos, the pitiable guard dog, raised his head at my approach. I do not know what made me pause and crouch over the sickly mutt. Scratching his neck, I then hugged the hound close. 

“Take leave of your charge,” I whispered. “All you have loved is gone to ruin, and your master no longer wants you.”

Argos licked me. He pulled from my grasp and rested his head on the snow, whimpering. He did not budge from his post. I smiled, dejected as I was. I was glad I met one who could remain faithful. 

I turned to the door and knocked. I suppose I could’ve tried to break into the house, but that seemed cowardly. Messalina was to know my rage face to face, and I would not have it any other way. Charon opened the door immediately, as if he had been waiting for me. His sword was not drawn, but I knew it was hidden somewhere in his white robes. He bowed deeply and lifted his arm. 

“Messalina is this way.”

“Before that, I must ask you one thing, mannequin. If we are to cross swords, are you to fight me unabated? I am deeply sympathetic to you and Berenice’s position, and I would spare your life if you were to give up the battle.”

“Oh, that I wish I could, but us mannequins are bound to our word. Unlike those of flesh, I cannot take back an utterance nor betray what I am. If we are to duel, then you must spare no mercy, for neither can I.”

I didn’t expect a different answer, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping for another one. I followed the mannequin through the forum and down an unfamiliar hall. As I walked behind him, I briefly considered drawing my sword and stabbing him in the back. That would probably be my only chance to kill him. 

But truthfully, I did not want to kill him. What stayed my hand was that I knew I would hesitate, and that hesitation would be the death of me. Perhaps Charon knew that as well, and that was why he walked so freely. Or perhaps, I was throwing away his offer for me to finish him off. Later, I never did get a straight answer to that question. 

Charon took me to a wooden door, which I took to be Messalina’s chambers. “I will warn you this. You will not be able to kill her without me unawares. I do not see or hear as you do. There is nothing in this house that is hidden from me.”

“I have one last question,” I slowly said. “Why didn’t you or Berenice warn me of this treachery?”

“Did she not tell you to keep your possessions close?”

“Yes, but—”

“I beg you do not slander Mistress Berenice. The more she involved you in this house’s affairs, the more the Master’s eye would’ve fallen upon you. She did all that she could while still subject to Messalina’s authority. And as for the child, do you regret your part to play in that?”

I nodded my head in deep thought, and considering his answer, I smiled. “So be it. Good fortune to you, Charon.”

The white robed mannequin opened the door. “Do not be afraid, there is no such thing,” he assured me. 

I entered Messalina’s bedchambers, and at once my nostrils burned with heavy perfume. Heavy drapes covered a large bed in the back. Though the room was ornate, I saw multiple bookcases covered with dust. In fact, the only used furniture seemed to be her wardrobe and vanity mirror. Messalina sat on a cushioned chair in front of a low table. She was wearing a revealing silk dress, and she was reading a thin book. Her eyes glanced up at me. Charon shut the door behind. 

I lifted open my satchel and pulled out the children’s book. I threw it to the floor. It flopped and kicked up dust in front of her. 

Messalina set aside her reading and looked excitedly at the scrawled mess of paper on the floor. “The Wolf and the Spider! It was my childhood favorite! However did you find it!?”

I was not in the mood for games. “You used your own sister’s distress to distract me. You threw out the corpse of an infant. And for what? Because you imagined some grudge against me, I presume? Even after I saved your life?”

“A grudge?” Messalina clicked her teeth disappointedly. “I never held any grudge. Quite the opposite! I was trying to save your life!”

Of all the reasons I was expecting, that was not it. “If you wish to do well by me, you would return my tome, and I would take me leave.”

Messalina stared at me as if I was crazy. “For what? So you can go out and die on the Great Ice Plain—or worse—Myz? You are a good man, and you do not deserve that fate. I would see you remain in Terminus and grow old.”

My eyes widened in horror as I realized her devious intent. “I cannot stay here. I am oath bound to journey to Calrathia and… to never take a wife.”

“As I recall from our previous conversation, your oath was to never have children, and luckily enough, I don’t intend to have any.”

“You twist the letter of the law for the meaning.”

“And so what if I do?” Messalina cried out. “Tell me, will they send any Astronomers to check on you? Will anyone come to Terminus looking for you? Will so much as another courier cross paths with you?”

My tongue caught in my mouth, as I knew there would be none. No one would ever know if I succeeded in my journey or not. The point was to deliver a tome and never come back. And worse, I knew many Astronomers who had secret affairs or even children. I would be breaking a rule none bothered to follow anymore. 

“You have proven your valor! Your test is over! No one expected you to ever succeed in your journey. That you made it to Terminus was a miracle in of itself! All I say is that you shouldn’t throw your life away for nothing!”

Messalina got up from her chair, and I took a step back. “Give me back what is mine,” I still demanded of her. 

“If you are so determined.” Messalina shrugged her shoulders. “Then I shall ask only one thing of you. Lie with me tonight and consider my offer. Do this, and I shall hand your tome to you in the morning.”

I could hear Master Algol’s cackling laughter in the room. So this is where it had all been leading. Break one oath to fulfill another or to abandon everything. Cruelty! If there is a hand that guides the path of men, it must be cruelty! I knew no other way to describe this deceitful trick. Why must my heart be carved with so!?

Master Algol’s hand fell on my shoulder. Earlier I felt his infernal presence, but now I could believe the man himself stood right behind me. He whispered treachery and bitterness and heartbreak in my ear. He teased that which should not be, and he bade me forward. I confess, I felt myself slip out of my own body, and I did step forward. 

Messalina smiled and bared more skin, nodding towards the bed. It is here now I become most reluctant to account further. There are certain vulgar aspects of oneself that are to be kept private for the sake of dignity. We pretend that we are as we were since we departed paradise, and I think that is for much good. However, for the sake of honesty in this account, I shall confirm that I have and do indeed experience the passions of men, although I have always first kept my oath to my School. 

Many may dispute the veracity of my claim, but I do not have to answer to them. I’ll leave my judgement in better hands. 

And as I took that step forward, a dog’s howl broke my trance. I looked over behind me. The only dog I knew close by was Argos, and yet he was far too old to call, as he did when he was a young hound. And to choose now of all times…

It is a good thing men are given a second and even third and even fourth chance. Our wills are weak, and our minds weaker. It was intervention then. I remembered how I wept when Master Rigel handed me my charge. I remembered how I felt when the Anemoi left me. I remembered everything that had brought me here now. 

Whenever a man makes a decision, a true decision, there is a crossing of the threshold. And here it was before me. I was grateful then that fate had indeed not left me alone. That dog, that lowest of low animals, had stayed true. He had stayed true for years of torment, and how was I supposed to comport myself in his mighty presence? 

Messalina saw my change in expression, and she knew that she had lost me in that instant. In a desperate bid, she bared herself and threw towards me. But my sword already was out of its sheath, and she fell upon steel. She carved a wicked scratch up her cheek, and she recoiled from me. 

“You maddened dog!” she screeched. 

I heard the door open, and I was scarcely able to turn when Charon swung his sword downward. Steel met steel, and the force alone made me drop to a knee. 

“What shall I do with him?” the mannequin asked. 

“Delay him,” Messalina quickly said, rushing out the door. 

I wish I could’ve stopped her in what evil designs she had next, but Charon was so strong that I could do nothing but watch as she left the room. When she shut the door behind her, the mask of an elderly man turned to me. 

“Put down your sword. I do not wish to harm you.”

“It is all well then,” I responded. “Because you stand no chance against me.”

I thought Crixus had matched me in skill of blade, but it was now I realized that I had still yet been holding back. A righteous man may fight doubly hard, but a righteous man doomed to die fought much harder still. The duel between man and mannequin should’ve been writ in song. I had never known what men spoke of when they boasted of glory in battle. It was then I realized that mastery was its own art, whatever the task. 

Knowingly or not, men spend their lives in pursuit of perfection, whether in love, war, or craft. Nothing else will satisfy. It is well then, that the Potentate is the perfection of all things, for nothing else could ever satisfy the hearts of men. In this clash, I approached what so many had longed for all their days of labor. 

Sword rang against sword in symphony. Weaving and ducking and parrying, I kept up with what was beyond flesh. I knew Charon was put to his limit when he fell back. Though the mannequin was anything but human, even he must’ve felt bitter shock as a human began to win the day. Each strike of the sword felt it could shatter my bones, but I would not know defeat. 

I collected a myriad of scrapes and cuts and wounds that would scar later, but I did not feel one of them. It was neither rage nor bloodlust that drew me on, but the purpose of my task. The Astronomers had always been regarded as mighty warriors, setting foot on uncharted lands no one dared to travel, but I had never felt that call. I had always been a lesser son of lesser sons, but at that moment, I felt I could vanquish anyone who stood in my way. 

My sword chipped. Flecks of metal broke off, and I still pressed on. I pushed him back against the wall. I struck his sword so hard that he slammed against the brickwork. I thrusted forward into his chest, but he dodged to the right. He lifted his steel to swing down at me, but I dodged in turn. 

The moment came, strike came upon strike. I aimed to sever his neck, and he aimed for my side. It was all over before I knew what happened. The dance had reached its conclusion. Charon’s sword buried into my side, while I could only swipe away his mask. The image of an elderly man fell away and clapped to a silence on the floor. 

For myself, I felt nothing except the ground rushing up to meet me. I could not help but grin. It was always fated to end this way, but I ended it well. From the beginning, it was a fool’s errand to reach Calrathia. But I had at least kept my oaths, and when I died, I would not be left in treacherous shame. 

Charon stood over me, dropping his sword to the floor. “No human has ever sparred me as you have. I doubt any man has matched one of my kind like you did.”

I coughed blood and grinned. “It was as I said, good fortune to you, Charon.”

The mannequin, who once bore the mask of an old man, now bore the image of a young boy. One mask had revealed another, and I was not disappointed by the one who would kill me. Death’s proper face was never an old man, but a young one, because death only properly punishes the young. 

The mannequin kneeled over me as I drowned in a pool of my blood. 

“No, it was as I told you, Sirius. Do not be afraid. Good fortune does not exist.”

Link to Chapter Twelve