Michael

  Michael found Julie on the library floor, sitting on one of the cushions near the windows with an open book on her lap. The afternoon light illuminated her face, making her hair seem golden. “How was your day?” she asked without looking up from her book.

  She’s becoming more and more like Esther after each day, while Esther is becoming more like her mother, Michael thought. “Everything’s fine. And you, what are you doing here?”

  “I was tired and bored of wandering around. There’s nothing to do out there.”

  Michael went over to her and looked out the window. Outside, a group of children ran past the library front toward the green. The leader, a little boy with messy black hair, was shouting to his companions to hurry up.

  “Tell me, did you manage to hear anything?” Michael asked.

  Julie giggled. “I tried, but I found the door closed, and you were talking too quietly.”

  “Hmm, bad luck. Did you see when Luke left?

  “Yes, I saw him, but he didn’t leave. He stood there, on the other side of the road for a while. He was with another man.”

  “Did you notice where that man came from?”

  Julie turned her eyes away from her book and looked out the window. “When I saw him, he was already standing there. Doesn’t he work with Luke in his workshop? I remember seeing him there.”

  “It’s him. He works as Luke’s apprentice. Didn’t you see him do anything suspicious?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “Denis believes Luke and his men are after him.”

  “Really?” Julie closed her book and placed it aside. “I remember Esther saying something about the carpenter—that he’s very annoying.”

  “What did he do to her?”

  “Ask about Denis; many, many questions. And my sister got angry because of that. She said the carpenter had her sick and tired with his questioning. He never leaves her alone when he sees her around. Better ask her if you want to know more.”

  But he’s never asked me anything about Denis, even though I’ve visited his shop often. How strange.

  “And what was he doing here?” Julie asked.

  “I found him upstairs chatting with Denis. He left in a hurry the moment he saw me.”

  “Do you think there are problems between them?”

  Michael shrugged. “Who knows? It’s not our problem anyway. Go and put the book back in its place. It’s time to go home.”

  “Wait, you should hear this. I saw old Milton before I went inside. He looked awful. I think something bad happened to him."

  "Are you sure?”

  Julie nodded. "I saw him go to Emma's house. He looked very, very angry. He was all red. He didn't answer when I said hello; he didn't even look at me. He went to Emma's door and started banging on it, shouting her name. Emma opened the door, looking angry. I thought she was going to yell at him for banging her door, but he said something that stunned her. She quickly let him in. That's when I heard him yelling from inside the house: ‘How could she have done this to me? How could she have done this to me? What’s she thinkin’? What a bloody fankle she’s gotten her family in.’"

  Michael hit her in the head. “Don’t swear. What did he say to her at the door?”

  “I couldn't hear. I sneaked over to see if I could see or hear anything else, but Emma saw me coming through the window and shooed me away. She warned me that if I came back, she would punish me.”

  Michael remained silent as he looked through the window.

  “Don’t you want to know what happened to him?” Julie asked excitedly. “He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

  Michael smiled and stroked her head. “You are a worthy daughter of Agnes. It’s not a bad idea. And I need to talk to those two about something, anyway. Wait here while I go over there and see what I can find out.”

  “But I want to go with you,” Julie protested.

  “If you go, Milton certainly won’t talk. I need to go alone.”

  Julie pouted and crossed her arms. She looked at Michael, annoyed. “It’s not fair. You treat me like a child, just like my sister.”

  “But you’re still a child,” Michael said, laughing. “Fine, tell me your price.”

  Julie’s face transformed in an instant, radiating a wide smile. “I want to go with you the next time you go to the city.”

  “Don’t you want something else? Anything.”

  Julie shook her head with a big no.

  Michael sighed. He knew nothing would make her change her mind. “I think I can take you with me on my next trip, though I’ll be a little busy, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to play with you. I just ask that no one finds out about this, that we are going to the city, especially your mother. It has to be a secret. Do you promise not to say anything?”

  “I promise. Do you promise to take me?”

  “I promise.”

  “Then it’s a deal.”

  Michael left the library and headed towards Emma's house, next door. The atmosphere outside seemed to have changed. The afternoon was still warm and beautiful, but life was slowly returning to the empty village of Rodford. Horse-drawn carriages and handcarts pulled by exhausted-looking men rattled along the dirt road. A group of women with babies in their arms, chatted and laughed in the front yard of a nearby house. On the green, children played hide-and-seek using the bushes and trees as cover—their laughter and shouts filled the air with innocence and youth. Michael halted by the road and took a deep breath. He watched the village and the afternoon for a bit, feeling in his pockets the heavy necklace Denis had entrusted him. The hideous thing made his leg itch. He turned, went toward Emma’s door, and knocked.

  “Who is it?” a woman asked from within.

  Light green curtains hung behind the windows, blocking Michael’s view of the inside. He waved at his reflection in the glass, knowing that Emma was watching him from her seat in the living room. “Emma, it’s me, Michael. Can I come in?” he said.

  “I don’t know of any Michael, stranger. I recommend you come back later; no, better come tomorrow, because I’m busy at the moment and I don’t want any visits.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Yes, yes, very funny. Come on, let me in.”

  “Now is not a good time, Michael. Come back tomorrow.”

  “I know Milton is with you. I wanted to know if anything happened to him.” Michael waved at the window, hoping for Milton to see him.

  “He’s fine. Now, go away.”

  “Julie told me what happened!” Michael began to speak out loud. “She said Milton was in tears and couldn’t stop sobbing and crying like a little baby! Is it true that he knelt at your door and begged you to let him in!? What kind of spell did you cast on the old man that broke him like that!?”

  “Who said I was crying?!” Milton shouted furiously. “That brat shouldn’t be makin’ up nonsense.”

  “Can’t you see he’s lying?” Emma said. “He just wants us to let him in.”

  “Well, let him in, or else he’ll spread that rubbish all over the village.”

  "You heard him, Michael," Emma said, her voice defeated. "You can come in."

  ?Michael opened the door and stepped inside. Emma and Milton were sitting on the same sofa in the living room. They both glared at him.

  “Good afternoon, my dear friends,” Michael said with an exaggerated bow. “I’m delighted to see you all in such good health and—”

  “Stop talking nonsense and come in already,” Emma barked.

  “As you wish, my great and wise lady,” Michael said. He closed the door behind him and took a seat on the sofa opposite them.

  It wasn’t the first time Michael visited Emma’s house. As she was his mentor and close family friend, it was common for him to drop by after visiting the library. Although the living room was small and modest in appearance, the good instincts used to furnish it made it feel comfortable and homely. Pictures showing countryside landscapes hung on the white walls. A wooden rocking chair, covered with sheets and cushions, rested near one of the windows. Two checkered fabric sofas, with a small tea table in between, lay in the middle of the room. A large shelf stocked with books, magazines, portraits, polished agates and quartz, and small porcelain figurines representing the gods and enlightened ones of the Idnus religion covered the wall opposite the fireplace. The scent of flowers, herbs, and tea wafted through the room. Michael noticed a metal tray with a teapot and three cups lying on the tea table, next to a ceramic vase filled with roses, honeysuckle, and thyme. Two of the cups had traces of black tea, and the teapot was leaking steam from its spout. “May I?” Michael said, eyeing the clean cup.

  Emma smiled. “You’re fortunate that I did enough.”

  “You knew I was coming, right?” Michael asked as he poured himself some tea.

  “I caught Julie trying to spy through the window. It was only a matter of time before her brother showed his face around here.”

  “Obviously. It is my duty as her guardian,” Michael said, raising his chest.

  Emma beamed a smile and grabbed the teapot to pour herself another cup of black tea. She wasn’t wearing her priestess uniform, but rather a long skirt and blouse. Her hair was long and gray, and she carried it loose down her back. Her pale skin had the marks of age on her delicate face, most notably around the corner of her eyes, which were large and of a blue so clear and intense that they resembled the surface of a frozen lake. At fifty-two, she possessed a beauty, confidence, and glamour that overshadowed even the prettiest girls in the village. If she decided to wear makeup, she could easily erase fifteen years off her age. But her best feature was not her appearance, but her intellect, and not the kind of intellect that helps with mathematics, or to recall historical facts with accuracy, or to easily comprehend philosophical texts. Emma’s intellect lay in understanding people by memorizing their habits, traits, needs, wants, and history. From this, she could predict their thoughts and subsequent movements with a deadly acuity. She perfected this art over the years, working in the ecclesiastical branch of the Temple of Idnus, turning it into a game for her enjoyment, with Michael being her current favourite playmate. The poor soul had to measure every word and gesture when talking to her if he wanted to avoid being read. However, he loved playing this game against her.

  “I thought you were in the shrine with your servants,” Michael said.

  “You know perfectly well that I like to walk after eating. Richard and Celeste just got back from working at the shrine. They’re upstairs in their room resting.”

  “And how was the tour around the village? Are the villagers behaving themselves, or is anyone eager to rebel?”

  “Walking helps me digest my food and stay in shape. At my age, I have to keep an eye on my delicate health.”

  “And also to keep an eye on the lazy ones who don’t go to mass, or the bandits who don’t plan to pay their contribution,” Michael added. “You ought to straighten out the unbelievers, or they might infect others with their foolishness.”

  “Indeed,” Emma said with a modest smile. “I must always keep a watchful eye on my lovely flock, and what better way to do so than during my daily hour of exercise? I am a practical woman.”

  Michael took a sip of tea and looked at Milton. “So, who hurt you, old man? Julie told me you were furious about something.”

  Milton breathed heavily. He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind. His face, full of wrinkles and a beard as white as cotton, seemed to tremble with rage. His gray eyes stared at the willow walking stick he gripped tightly. He looked older and frailer than usual, as though the pent-up anger was causing him a pain in his soul, rushing his end. Michael thought he would cry at any moment.

  “Boss, what’s wrong? Tell me.” Michael asked, worried.

  Milton still said nothing.

  “Hey, if anyone did something to you, just tell me, and I’ll make them pay. I swear.”

  Milton snorted. “Stop talkin' nonsense, laddie. You’re just a spoilt fifteen-year-old snot. What can you possibly do to help me?”

  “You’re right," Michael replied. “But I know how to use what I have. I can go back home and cry to Natalie for help; she’ll lend me a hand without thinking twice. Or I can turn to grandpa. If I hide his tobacco, no one will be able to stop the storm that will break out when he can’t find it. Even Emma’s magic will be useless. Just tell me who’s bothering you, and I’ll hide grandpa’s tobacco box under their bed, and may the gods have mercy on their souls.”

  Milton laughed. “Next time I see your old man, I’m goin’ to tell him what you said.”

  Michael shrugged. “Tell him, I have the whole forest to hide in. So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  Milton took a deep breath and looked at Emma. “What’d you think? Can we trust him?”

  “You know Michael as well as I do. You were the one who taught him everything about surviving in the forest. You wouldn’t have passed on your knowledge if you didn’t trust him.”

  Milton nodded. He remained silent for a while, thinking, while Michael and Emma watched him.

  Milton was an army veteran, a relic of the last two wars fought by the Great Kingdom of Asprain against its greatest rival and neighbor: the Northern Union. He remained in the army until he retired as a sergeant major at the end of the second war. He later joined the Rangers, a civil-military corps responsible for monitoring and guarding the kingdom’s forests against any foreign invasion. As a Ranger, he quickly reached the rank of captain, earning a transfer to the north, where he and his squad were assigned to guard the Rodwood Forest for nearly two decades, until his final retirement from a life of duty.

  Michael considered Milton as his second mentor. From him, he learned how to explore and move through the forest. How to take the adverse terrain and turn it into an advantage. Which animals to hunt for sustenance and which to avoid at all costs. Milton presented him a map of the forest that he had made during years of exploration. The map marked the best routes to take, hiding places to seek refuge, and areas where food was abundant. He also taught him what to do when the opponent was human, redmaw, or any other monster. Milton passed on everything he knew, everything he had learned in his life as a soldier, as a Ranger, and as a father and grandfather. He treated Michael as though he were his family. And for that, Michael felt a great respect and indebtedness to him.

  “I don’t think it’s a problem for the lad to know,” Milton said after a while. “Besides, I’ve decided to bring it up at the next meetin’.”

  “Are you sure?” Emma asked.

  “Aye, I trust the brat.”

  “I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about involving your granddaughter. Will you mention her name when they ask you how you got the bond?”

  “Hell naw. Damn it. I hadn’t thought ’bout that.”

  “What are you talking about?” Michael asked.

  Emma raised her hand. “Wait a moment, Michael,” she said, and then she looked at Milton. I don’t trust the villagers’ tongues, especially those of Agatha and her friends. They’d surely sell your granddaughter to the police without a second thought.”

  “So what should I do? You think it’s best if I don’t say anythin’?”

  “I know your intentions are good in wanting to inform others, but I think it would be for the best if we altered the story a bit. We shall say that I was the one who received the bond, that it was given to me by the head priest of the temple in the city, so that I would alert the members of my congregation to what was happening. This way, we’ll keep your granddaughter safe from any repercussions.”

  Milton’s eyes welled up with tears. “Thank you, Emma, ??thank you so much,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “You’ve lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. I want to tell others ’bout this, but I couldn’t think of how. Thank you so much.”

  Emma placed a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t leave you alone, my friend,” she said gently. She turned to Michael. “And you. You won’t tell a soul, do you hear? Not even your family, especially Agnes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Milton, show him the paper,” Emma ordered.