Back to the Tower
Chapter 5: Betrayed
The very next day, Adjurator Reichel glided through the morning light that pooled on the library’s gray stone floors. High Theogonist Maximilien met him at the door to the cell. Vladimir was in his customary position behind the stacks, listening intently.
“Good morrow, Father Reichel.”
“And to you High Theogonist,” Reichel replied graciously. “You appear fatigued,” Maximilien replied smugly. “Did the encounter with the talisman drain you so? Perhaps in the future you will allow me to aid you in your examinations.”
“I thank you for your concern over my welfare, but do not let it trouble you,” Reichel said, ignoring the jab. “I spent the night in prayer and meditation. There was much to ponder after my initial contact with the torc.”
“I see,” Maximilien said tersely. “And what pray-tell did you conclude?”
A long pause followed. Vladimir began to think that they had slipped into the cell and that he would hear no more of the conversation. Presently the Adjurator continued, slowly and deliberately.
“This talisman of the ruinous powers is not merely a sorcerous trinket. It is alive.”
“I beg your pardon?” Maximilien said, shocked.
“Even the minions of chaos must take on some structure to inhabit our world. When unmaking a relic of chaos, one simply perceives its structure and undermines it, thus removing its temporal permanence,” Reichel lectured, his voice taking on an orator’s tone. “This artifact is different. The entity in the torc reacted to my probing, evaded my attacks.”
“It is well known that such talismans are contrived with the means to defend themselves. When one endeavors to vanquish such a thing, one assumes this possibility.” Maximilien admonished.
“The High Theogonist knows that I have much experience in such matters. I have seen numerous traps for the mind, or even one’s soul, embedded in the relics of Chaos. They may be intricate and sophisticated, but they are always static creations with concrete mechanisms. This torc contained a presence. I sensed intelligence, adaptation.”
“There is a daemon trapped within?”
“Perhaps…but it did not feel like a daemon. More like a portal.”
“A portal to the warp, no doubt,” Maximilien concluded, satisfied. “Like yourself, when I encountered difficulty in unmaking the vile thing, I suspected a daemonic hand in the matter.”
“Yes. A portal. From the warp. To…where?” Reichel murmured to himself. “I believe that your suspicions may prove to be as incorrect as they are correct.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Maximilien demanded indignantly.
“As I was not present at the time, I cannot say for certain what you encountered. I can say that what I experienced was a communion of sorts. One end of the portal opens into the warp, yes. The other end empties out here, in this Monastery,” Reichel declared.
“Just what is it you are driving at, man?” Maximilien positively fumed.
“Someone in this Monastery, someone close by, is using this thing.”
“Nonsense! No one save Father Larsen and myself have ever come into contact with it. It has not been left unguarded since it arrived here,” Maximilien was incensed. “This is preposterous! Do you dare accuse me of consorting with Chaos?”
“Be calm, Maximilien. I would never call your virtue into question. You are Sigmar’s loyal servant and beyond reproach,” Reichel assuaged. “I do not suspect Larsen either. I have had enough contact with the good Father to sense any corruption about him. Nevertheless, the powers of Chaos are insidious and guileful, and may have ensnared another. Who else on the premises knows of its existence?”
“Myself, Father Larsen, Fathers Lukas and Rutger…and Father Jurgen,” Maximilien stated. A vision of Father Jurgen clawing at his eyes as blood streamed down his tattered face confronted Vladimir.
“Yes, yes, bad business, that. Are you certain there are no others?” A long pause followed.
“No, that is all,” Maximilien replied.
“Very well,” Reichel said, doubtfully. “I will investigate the matter further, but not today. I am tired and I must rest.”
“As you wish,” Maximilien allowed
“Maximilien, one more thing,” Reichel paused.
“Yes?” said Father Maximilien, plainly irritated.
“I would entreat you to remove the guard from below,” Reichel continued.
“Do you think that wise?” Maximilien asked.
“I wish to isolate the thing. I am unsure of what prolonged exposure to its presence will cause. I fear that we are exposing Fathers Rutger and Lukas to unknown and unnecessary danger. Even the devout and true can be ensnared by the lure of the ruinous powers. I think the locks on the door are sufficient to secure the item, considering we four are the only ones who know of its presence.”
“Very well, I will have Father Larsen remove the guard and secure the cell,” Maximilien proclaimed, as if it was his idea in the first place.
“Excellent,” Reichel’s reply simply brimmed with amusement. “If there is nothing else, I will take my leave. I am weary and must rest.”
“Sleep well, Father Reichel,” Maximilien granted before sweeping out of the corridor. Vladimir listened for the Adjurator’s soft footfalls to fade into the distance before letting out his breath. He had been holding it since overhearing Reichel’s decision to lock the cell. It was the only way to hold back the sobs that threatened to wrack his body.
It couldn’t be. What would he do? If Rutger and Lukas were not on guard there would no longer be an excuse to be near to his torc. He knew with dread certainty that if he were separated from it for long that he would grow ill again. Vladimir held his head in his hands, turning the problem over and over in his mind, but was unable to conceive of any solution.
“You do very good work.”
Vladimir cried out and spun to see who had discovered him. The sudden movement unbalanced him, spilling him from his perch on the stool and depositing him along with a sheaf of papers on the floor. As he recovered, he saw Reichel looming over him, his powerful visage contorted with…concern. The Adjurator extended his hand to help Vladimir to his feet.
“Please except my apology, young Initiate, I did not mean to startle you,” He said graciously, as he cuffed the dust from the back of Vladimir’s robes. Together they picked up the scattered sheets of paper and replaced them on the scriptorium. Reichel looked him over. “Are you well? You are ghostly pale.”
“I am fine, Father. You startled me is all,” Vladimir lied.
“Startled? You nearly jumped out of your skin!” Reichel grinned warmly.
“I must have dozed off, and did not hear you approach.” Vladimir lied again. He was surprised at how easily it came to him, once he got started.
“Well no wonder,” Reichel replied. “The sun has barely stirred and the moons have not yet set. Did you spend the night here at your desk?”
“No Father, I just wanted to get some inking done before morning devotions,” Vladimir explained, gesturing to his maps. “Besides, Novices and Initiates are no stranger to work before the sun shows its face.”
“Yes, I remember those mornings well,” he mused. “I never got out of my bed until I was roused twice and then shaken out.”
“I am naturally an early riser, especially on the cold mornings,” Vladimir accounted, stooping to stoke the brazier of glowing coals that burned beneath his desk.
“Considering the Kislev winters, I am surprised you sleep at all,” Reichel jibed. He pored over the maps on the table. “I also never missed a meal when I was an Initiate, which you have done today.”
“My work keeps me here at odd hours,” Vladimir explained. “I am friends with the Mistress of Kitchens, she lets me eat whenever I am able.”
“Odd hours indeed,” Reichel nodded, focused on a map of Tilea. “This is a rather out of the way spot to work.”
“I prefer the quiet,” Vladimir offered. “It helps to steady the hand.”
“More quiet than a library?” Reichel asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, yes. Scratching quills, turning pages, closing books, sandals on the flagstones, it all makes noise.”
“You are sensitive indeed, but to do work such as this one must have the appropriate conditions,” Reichel allowed. “Which is your current endeavor…forgive me, I do not know your name.”
“Vladimir, Vladimir Kravczyk.”
“Pleased to meet you, Vladimir,” Reichel said, extending his hand. Vladimir shook it gingerly, praying that the Adjurator would not sense any taint of chaos from his touch. “I am Father Reichel.”
“This is the latest,” Vladimir indicated, pulling one of the many sheets of vellum from the stack. He wanted to keep Reichel focused on the maps until he could come up with a reason to excuse himself. “The northern reaches of Kislev, troll country and the borders of the…Wastes.”
That last word was whispered. Reichel arched his eyebrow again.
“It seems you have barely begun,” he said as he examined the vellum. “But with all the clamor going on down here you must have been sorely distracted.”
“P-pardon?” Vladimir sputtered.
“Are you certain you are well?” Reichel asked. “You have gone pale again.”
“Fine, fine,” Vladimir swallowed hard. “Perhaps I should not have missed breakfast this morning.”
“Quite right. But what of all of the noise? Has it bothered you?” Reichel pressed.
“I have not heard any noises beyond the scratch of my quill,” Vladimir lied again, putting on what he hoped was a convincingly innocent face.
“How peculiar,” Reichel began, stroking his chin absently. “How long did you say you have been working here?”
“Well over a month now, Father.”
“This area, specifically the storage room beyond that bookcase, has seen a lot of activity lately.” He indicated the direction Vladimir knew was the cell that contained the torc.
“I was unaware of any storage in this wing of the library,” Vladimir shrugged.
“A man nearly died not twenty paces from where we are standing, and you took no notice?” Incredulity filled the Adjurator’s voice.
“That happened here?” Vladimir gasped, eyes widened in mock surprise as he peered over Reichel’s shoulder in the direction of the door. The image of Jurgen’s ruined eyes and blood-soaked face flashed before his eyes once more. The shiver that crawled up his spine was quite real. “I heard tell of his injury. I had no idea…how could I not know?”
“How indeed?” Reichel asked, his eyes narrowing.
“I must have been at devotions, or asleep in my bed, or at a meal.” Vladimir hoped he sounded convincing. Reichel scrutinized Vladimir’s face, which made him very nervous. He had no way of knowing whether the Adjurator believed his slew of lies. As if in answer, Reichel shrugged and smiled.
“Speaking of breakfast, I have missed mine and you yours. Let’s away to the kitchens. I would be forever in your debt if you were to use your influence with the Mistress to arrange a morsel for us both.”
“Well…I would be delighted to help you find some victuals,” Vladimir explained, “but I must really get back to my work.”
“I admire your dedication Vladimir,” Reichel said, clapping him on the back. “We can discuss it on the way. Lead on, young Initiate.”
Vladimir led Reichel through the steamy labyrinth of ovens and cauldrons until they stumbled upon the Mistress of Kitchens, busily calling out orders while wiping her hands on her apron. Reichel sketched a bow and addressed her.
“Good Lady, my young friend and I are in dire need of some nourishment. I appeal to your good nature to free us from our hunger.”
The Mistress curtsied in return, grinning like a young girl.
“I will have a table set up for you in the dining room,” She replied.
“Please, go to no such trouble, we can take our repast in the kitchen,” Reichel replied graciously.
“Nonsense,” she snorted. “While I am in charge, distinguished guests eat at a proper table.”
“My Lady’s generosity is matched only by her beauty,” Reichel said, flashing his most charming smile. The Mistress of Kitchens flushed such a deep red that Vladimir thought she might catch fire. She curtsied several times before hastened off. Vladimir and Reichel nearly had to run to keep pace with her as she scurried toward the dining room. When they arrived, Vladimir saw his opportunity to escape.
“Father, it seems you are in good hands, so if there is nothing else I will take my leave,” he said, backing away slowly.
“Can I not convince you to stay, Vladimir?” Reichel asked.
“I have so much work to do,” Vladimir replied.
“It will not do for you to miss your breakfast,” he lectured. “You will need your strength.”
“I agree with the good Father, you should stay and eat,” the Mistress chimed in, shaking her head. “You are naught but skin and bones.”
“But Mistress, initiates are not allowed in the dining rooms,” Vladimir pleaded.
“Tut-tut, do not argue with your elders,” she admonished. “You will stay and eat, and that is that.”
“I am sure we can make an exception, just this once,” Reichel said, tipping a wink in his direction. Seeing no alternative, Vladimir relented.
As they waited for breakfast to be served, Vladimir and Reichel chatted about the harsh winter, the finer points of cartography, and all manner of things. Reichel was personable and witty, and listened intently to everything Vladimir had to say. They spoke as equals, not as priest to initiate.
Reichel was unlike any priest Vladimir had ever known. He was not imperious and aloof like Maximilien, nor was he gruff and stringent like Larsen, nor pedantic and meek like Ehrlich. He was charismatic and kind. Vladimir rather liked him. He almost forgot to be terrified of him, and what he would do if he discovered the Initiate’s terrible secret.
Presently, three girls swept in from the kitchen with their breakfast. Vladimir was thrilled to see that Liesel was among them. They quickly set their trays about the table. Fried eggs, sliced ham, steaming sweet breads with creamy salt butter and a chilled pitcher of fresh milk. Vladimir’s mouth watered over such a rich spread.
Liesel’s hand ‘accidentally’ brushed his own as she filled his goblet. She locked his gaze with her magnificent brown eyes for a fleeting moment. Vladimir thought he could stare forever.
“Milord,” she murmured as she curtsied and turned to leave. Vladimir’s heart raced. It took a concerted effort not to watch her hips sway as she left.
“Pretty girl,” Reichel observed as he raised his cup to his lips.
“Which one? I didn’t notice,” Vladimir said, feeling heat in his cheeks.
“Indeed,” Reichel returned, rolling his eyes. Vladimir busied himself with the feast. If his mouth was stuffed with food, he could not answer Reichel’s many questions. After what seemed like an eternity Reichel wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood.
“That was refreshing,” he declared. “Vladimir, it has been a pleasure keeping your company this morning.”
“Thank you, Father Reichel,” Vladimir said gratefully. He was fairly sure the Adjurator meant it, too. “I enjoyed it as well.”
“Splendid, then we can continue our discussions another time,” he announced.
“Another time?”
“Yes, there are a good many things I should like to discuss with you,” Reichel said, smiling. “Geography, theology, daemonology.”
“D-daemonology?” Vladimir stammered.
“Yes, well it is my area of expertise.”
“Of course,” Vladimir said, relieved. “If my studies permit.”
“Don’t forget, I know where you hide,” Reichel said, grinning. “I will drop by sometime soon.”
“I am looking forward to it.”
With that, Reichel adjusted his robes and glided out of the room, leaving the bewildered Vladimir in his wake. He felt exhausted, like he had spent the past hour fencing with the Adjurator instead of speaking with him. Vladimir stuffed the last hunk of bread into his mouth and exited, intending to go back to his desk.
Just outside the dining room Liesel grabbed him by the arm and whisked him away into the deep shadows behind a gigantic cask of mead. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him warmly. Vladimir smiled at her and opened his mouth to speak, but she pressed a slender finger to his lips. She leaned close and pressed her soft lips to his ear.
“I just couldn’t wait until tonight to kiss you,” she whispered. Her warm breath caressed his ear. He could smell her hair. Over her shoulder, he saw a shape in the shadows. He squinted against the darkness and just barely made out Pavel’s lurking form. Making eye contact with the skulker, he took Liesel’s head in his hands and planted a long, passionate kiss on her mouth. When he finished, Pavel was gone. Liesel smiled.
“I must go. I cannot wait to see you tonight,” she whispered.
“Nor can I, my love,” Vladimir smiled back. This time he took great relish in watching her as she sauntered away, humming a slow, sensual tune.
Vladimir watched through the library window as the last rays of twilight gave way to starry night. By now Liesel would have finished her chores in the kitchens and be making her way through the darkened corridors toward the arboretum.
He considered the parchment that was laid out on the desk before him. It was a poem he had composed for her, and tonight he would read it to her by moonlight amongst the flowers. He was no great poet, that was for sure, but his words were honest and from the heart. He rolled the parchment into a tube and tucked it up his sleeve.
As he walked, Vladimir mulled over his encounter with Father Reichel. If the Adjurator knew of his connection with the torc, Vladimir surely would already have been clapped in irons, and probably executed. Even the suspicion if collusion with the ruinous powers is enough to warrant being put to the question.
More importantly, he needed to figure out how to get into that cellar to see his torc. He was afraid that if he was separated from it for too long that the pain would return, or worse…the sickness. It had been less than a day since he was in its presence and already he felt a touch ill. Reichel was already suspicious, the change in Vladimir’s health would surely draw his attention.
Vladimir’s steps quickened as he neared the door to the arboretum. Soon he would be with Liesel, and then all other things would cease to matter. She had become his sanctuary from all of the strange and horrible things that afflicted him. He couldn’t wait to take her in his arms, pull her close, smell her hair, and tell her how much he loved her. As he pushed open the door to the conservatory he felt a faint tugging at his mind. A strange feeling of uneasiness, urging him not to enter. He paused for a moment. It felt as if he was in communion with the torc again, but surely he was too far away for that. Vladimir shrugged and proceeded into the warm darkness of the arboretum.
Liesel stood amidst the flora, her slender form silhouetted by silvery moonlight. She looked like an angel. Again Vladimir felt that nagging tug at his mind, more insistent now, imploring him to flee silently. Liesel stood so still, so uncharacteristically rigid. Her face was cloaked in a deep shadow. Vladimir dismissed the alarms in his head as specters of his troubled mind. Assuming that she had not yet seen him, Vladimir stepped forward and called to her.
“Liesel, I am here.”
Suddenly a bright light sprang forth from the darkness off to the left. Vladimir squinted against the glare, trying to discern its source. As his eyes adjusted to the light, his heart fell, his chest tightened, and his mouth worked soundlessly. There, in the wan yellow glow of the lantern stood Maximilien, High Theogonist of Erengrad monastery. Behind him stood Father Reichel. Liesel stumbled forward, her arm encircled by the gigantic hand of Father Larsen. He grimaced Vladimir’s way as he led her down to the path.
Vladimir fell to his knees. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His eyes darted from Maximilien’s dour face, to Liesel’s downcast eyes. What had he done? What would they do to her?
“Approach me, Initiate Vladimir,” Maximilien ordered, steel in his voice. Vladimir focused on getting his breathing under control. Slowly he stood, practicing his meditation exercises in his mind. He had to remain calm and keep his wits about him, for Liesel’s sake. As he neared the Theogonist, he knelt once more, keeping his back straight, assuming a meditative pose.
“Are you aware that this area is off limits to initiates, especially after curfew?” His voice was composed and measured.
“I am, Father,” Vladimir replied carefully.
“Then I must ask you what you were about, in this place, at this hour,” still calm. Vladimir paused for a moment, holding his breath, then answered.
“I am here to see the girl, Liesel,” he said, biting his lip.
“I was right about you,” Maximilien stated. “You are not stupid. Not stupid enough to lie to me, at the very least. Yes, foolish, but not stupid. It must be evident to you that we know of your nocturnal activities, and we know how long you have been at them.”
“Father, I - ” Vladimir began.
“Silence!” Maximilien shouted, his voice echoing off of the glass. He took a moment to compose himself. “Do not make matters worse for yourself. Your…dalliance with this female will bring sufficient wrath down upon you, and her.”
“Father hear me, I beg you,” Vladimir implored, standing. Maximilien’s eyes widened, his lips parting in surprise.
“Perhaps I misjudged your intelligence after all,” he sneered. “Are you aware that every word you utter, every moment you stand before me, compounds your punishment?”
“Yes, Father, but I must be heard,” Vladimir said resolutely.
“Very well, Initiate, say your piece,” Maximilien said, nodding.
“Thank you, Father,” Vladimir began. “I wish to make it known that the girl, Liesel, is blameless in this affair. I coaxed her, coerced her to this place. She only returned under threat of losing her employment in the kitchens.”
“Vladimir, no!” Liesel cried, throwing herself vainly against Father Larsen’s iron grip in an attempt to reach him. “It’s not true!”
“Father Larsen, you will keep the girl silent” Maximilien snapped. “Her voice is an affront to this place, much less her presence.”
Larsen shook Liesel and clapped his other hand over her mouth. He was firm but not overly rough. Maximilien turned his attention back to Vladimir.
“And why did you do these things?”
“I wished to partake of her…maidenhood,” Vladimir said, his eyes downcast. Half-truths made the best lies.
“And did you succeed?” Maximilien asked, folding his arms.
“No Father, her virtue was too strong.” Maximilien peered deeply into Vladimir’s eyes, searching for any shred of untruth.
“How fortunate for both of you,” the High Theogonist said. “Had you committed such a carnal act in this place it would have gone much worse for you. You may also count yourself fortunate that I believe you.
“Your honesty, however belated, demonstrates your remorse for your heinous actions. However, this is not the first time I have had to mete out punishment for you. You will each receive twenty lashes for your transgressions.”
“Father, I ask that in light of the girl’s innocence in this matter, I receive her lashes in her stead,” Vladimir said. Again Liesel thrashed against her captor, trying to free herself. Vladimir could see Father Larsen nod his head in approval. Father Reichel raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly. Maximilien paused for a moment.
“Your honor serves you well, Vladimir,” the High Theogonist said. “I can see that you are a good boy who has, sadly, gone astray. As the High Theogonist it is my duty to put you back on the right path, and the first step is punishment. Your request is granted. You will receive forty lashes for your transgressions, plus ten for your impertinence in my presence.”
“Thank you, Father,” Vladimir said, sinking once again to his knees.
“You may wish to hold your thanks, Vladimir,” Maximilien cautioned. “In addition to your corporal punishment, you will serve in the kitchens until such time as I deem sufficient. Perhaps service will teach you humility. You seem to have forgotten that, as well as the other precepts in the Order of Sigmar. Accordingly you will be stripped of your Initiation and returned to the status of Novice, so that you may learn them again. When you are not working in the kitchens, or at your lessons, you are confined to your quarters for meditation.
“As for the girl,” Maximilien continued. “She will receive no corporal punishment, as the onus of her offense has been taken by Vladimir. However, her presence in the prohibited areas of the monastery cannot be overlooked. Father Larsen will inform the Mistress of Kitchens that the girl’s employment is hereby terminated. She is to be escorted off the grounds immediately, never to return.”
Vladimir pressed his forehead into the mossy earth, fighting to keep his breathing under control, to ward off the sobs that threatened to wrack his body. Tears streamed unabashedly down his cheeks. The idea that he would never see Liesel again was just too dreadful to comprehend.
“This matter is closed,” Maximilien said sternly. “Father Larsen, you heard my judgement. My duties require my presence elsewhere. Good evening Father Reichel.”
With that Maximilien swept out of the arboretum. Vladimir raised his head, blinking back his tears, looking for Liesel. Their gazes locked. Tears dampened her cheeks as well, pooling around Larsen’s knuckles. When the door closed behind the High Theogonist, the warrior priest removed his hand from her face. Vladimir wanted to go to her, to kiss away her tears, but he felt weak, unable to stand.
“Brother Reichel,” Father Larsen called, “Will you stay with the novice while I deal with the girl?”
“Surely, Brother,” Reichel replied.
Larsen started for the door, half dragging Liesel with him. She looked back at Vladimir, mouthing three words over and over again. I love you. Vladimir mouthed them back. As the heavy oaken door shut behind them, Vladimir realized he would never again hear her say those words, and he was overcome with despair.
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