Chapter 13: Medon

I slid the smaller wooden crate atop its sibling and stepped gingerly onto the larger one, pressing my hands against the pink stucco wall for balance.

 The arched window was just over my head now.

 Carefully, I raised a bare foot up to get purchase on the smaller crate. As my bandaged heel settled onto the dusty planking (stinging a bit as I applied pressure) I lifted my other foot up.

 Soon I was staring out the small window of my room. Before me were the walled-in grounds of a large country estate. Beyond were low hills, lush with green trees and grass. Here and there I could make out the tilled fields of vineyards. The sun was high and golden in the sky.

 It had to be late afternoon.

 The deep silence was cut through by light bird calls in the distance, and the breeze.

 I heard footsteps approaching from outside the chamber door and quickly scurried down. Not bothering to move the crates, I hopped into bed and pulled my blanket over me.

 Someone unlocked the door with a key and stepped in.

 She was a tall old woman with white hair that fell over the shoulders of her powder-blue dress. She smiled upon seeing me and walked to the foot of my bed. In her hands was a bronze tray with a bowl of soup.

 Hovering behind her in the doorway was a stout, bearded warrior in a ring-mail jerkin and an iron helmet. He was holding a sword up and glowering at me.

 “Oh, don’t worry about him, my dear child. He’s just the guard they’ve posted outside your door. He won’t hurt you. Well, so long as you don’t do anything foolish like to try an escape.”

 She placed the tray on a small table beside me. Then she noticed the two crates stacked underneath the window.

 I cleared my throat. “I just wanted to look out to get my bearings.”

 The old woman laughed good-naturedly. “Well, I should think so, Syndeeka. You’re hardly skinny enough to slide out. Also, you’re three stories above the ground. I don’t think you’d like the drop.”

 She knelt down beside my bed and picked up the porcelain chamber pot they’d left for me.

 “I’m glad to see you’ve used this,” she continued.

 “I had considered wetting my bed in silent protest of my imprisonment. But then I had the nagging suspicion that you people might try to punish me by refusing to change the linens.” 

 The old woman stood, the chamber pot in her liver spotted hands. “Well, I am at least happy your sense of self-preservation has kept your manners from completely abandoning you.”

 “I think I know why I’m being held prisoner here.”

 She stepped into the doorway and regarded me. “Oh? What’s that?”

 “The key to the dead king’s chamber. But I’ll never tell you where I’ve hidden it. You people can torture me, but I still won’t confess. I’d sooner die.”

 The old woman tilted her head to the side and beamed at me. “My dear, I’m not in charge of those sorts of things. I just came to bring you something to eat. Oh, and to let you know you have a visitor. She’s standing just outside the door.”

 She?
 
 The old woman went through the doorway and was gone. The ugly guard still glared at me with upraised sword in hand, so I smiled to enrage him further.
 
 Then she stepped into the room. Mala. I was hoping she wouldn’t be my visitor, but here she was, dressed all in white like a priestess. She gave me a nervous smile as she approached the bed.

 I sighed. “Tell me, Mala, even though either option is bad, are you a hostage like me or a willing convert?”

 Mala sat on the corner of the bed and touched a consoling hand to my foot. “They forced me out of bed, Syndeeka. I didn’t want to accompany them, but they had swords and threatened me.”

 Was she lying? Was she telling some sad truth? Either way, her presence here was certainly the result of her actions.

 “How are you feeling?” she asked.

 “Still a little numb, although not as much as when I first woke up in this place a few hours ago.” 

 “I would expect as much. It’s the drug they gave you. It causes vivid dreams, too. Did you have any?”

 How did she know so much about the drug they hit me with?

 I took a long, deep breath before finally answering.

 “I have not had such a horrible nightmare since the time they killed Lord Zounacsechs. And this didn’t even seem like a dream.”

 She patted my knee. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

 But you knew it would happen, didn’t you?

 “I think I’d like to be alone right now, Mala.”

 A hurt look crossed Mala’s face. She inhaled slowly, deeply, and managed a smile. “You’re tired. I understand.”

 “I’m not that tired.”

 Mala stood and slowly backed up to the doorway. “Very well. But Juniusey (she’s the old woman who brought you the soup) decided to let me tell you.”

 “What? Tell me what?”

 “Syndeeka, we’re going to be dinner guests tonight. Guests of the Giant.”

 She glided into the hall and shut the door behind her.

 Dinner guests. I wondered if they’d let me have a metal utensil other than a spoon. Maybe not a knife-- I doubted if these people would give me access to so convenient a tool.

 A fork might work. 

 Dinner was modest: fish and vegetable stew, flat bread, dolmas, and wine. And the big spoon they gave me was wood.

 Well, there’s no point in trying to kill him tonight, I thought.

 Even though I’d eaten the soup Juniusey had given me an hour ago, I was still hungry. Anger did nothing to fill my stomach, so I ate my fill of dinner. 

 I was sitting in a long, narrow room with colorful tapestries and no windows. Across from me at one end of the table was the Sepulchral Giant, dressed in modest gray robes, his face still covered with a hood and mask. Beside him was Juniusey (who apparently was his aunt) and across from her was Mala. This was hardly a cozy gathering, though, as each corner of the room was occupied by an armored guard.

 The sheer charm of this imprisonment was driving me mad. I just wanted to get up from my chair and hurl it across the table and brain the strange man holding court.

 I grabbed a piece of bread and tore it in two.

 Juniusey was regaling us with stories of her days in the Sabantahen Sisterhood of the Celestial Lady, all the while drinking herself silly.

 “None of the other sisters liked Medon at first,” she said, waving her wooden cup at her large nephew. “They were all convinced his great size was some ill omen by the gods. Some portent of doom. I of course reminded them that the Lady Surimasey is known for her acts of mercy towards the sick and the malformed.”

 Mala popped a dolma into her mouth and asked, “But why did you bring him to the convent in the first place?”

 “The children (and some of the adults, too) were cruel to me in my village,” said the Giant. “All I ever wanted was to be left alone. I used to be popular with the other children. Then I reached my tenth year and started growing unnaturally.

 “That’s when they started pelting me with stones. Quickly, I went from being a very gregarious boy to one who sought the quiet peace of nature.”

 Juniusey touched his shoulder. “They stamped out all of Medon’s joy and left him a broken child.”

 Medon reached a velvet gloved hand to his cup and took a sip of  wine, his reddened eyes regarding me from behind the black mask. “I thought I’d be fine merely seeking solitude from the other children. But then Father would drag me into the village square on market day so he could unload his grains.”

 He set his cup down and his jagged, scarred mouth twisted into a rictus before he resumed. “But the adults apparently didn’t like my hulking, twisted form either.”

 “What did they do?” asked Mala.

 Juniusey laid a hand on Mala’s arm. “Drink up, my dear. It’s a particularly nice vintage of wine I picked out especially for this occasion.”

 “Yes, of course.” Mala took a long swig of her drink.

 “What they did,” said Medon, steepling his fingers and sighing, “is what you’d expect them to do.”

 Tears rolled down Juniusey’s cheeks and she wiped her eyes and looked to me. “Medon barely survived the fire. He managed to escape the cottage. But my sister and her husband…”

 “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t mean to pry, Medon, but is that why you wear a mask?”

 Medon sat back in his chair and hugged himself. “No, Syndeeka. That’s why I wear gloves. Your precious employer, the Deity Imperator, is why I wear the mask.”

 I placed the wooden spoon beside my bowl. “Do you think killing Fodineo will make your situation better?”

 “No… I’m afraid my situation will never improve. But Inidrey will be avenged. That’s all I care about.”

 “You just want vengeance?”

 Medon stared at the table, jabbing his temple with his index finger. “Syndeeka, if you knew the atrocious things the Emperor and his court did to her…”

 I inhaled deeply through my nostrils. “I’ve been to court. I’ve seen firsthand his celebrations. I’ve seen the carnage, the cruelty…”

 Medon dropped his masked face into his hands. “She was so pure, so virginal, and he just--”

 “I understand. But have you considered the implications of your actions? If you succeed in killing Fodineo Quabeno, you could unleash the worst kind of strife. A civil war might ensue. There’s even the possibility the Equoci Empire could collapse.”

 “What would be so bad about that?” asked Mala.

 I looked at her coldly. “Mala, why is it you got an arrow shaft to the back? Who ordered that?”

 Mala put her cup to her lips, tipped her head back, and drained the contents. She squinted at me and smiled.

 “Who tried to deceive them?” she asked.

 I stared at Medon. “One of your followers shot an arrow at us before you all discovered my ruse.”

 Medon waved a gloved hand in the air. “I’m afraid that was someone’s youthful impetuosity. I assure you I did not give him the order to fire on you and Mala.”

 “No, of course not. You just waited till after you’d found out the key I’d thrown you was Tulonan’s spyglass.”

 “Syndeeka,” said Mala, “you’re the one who endangered our lives.”

 “Me? I saved your life.”

 “It’s an incredible instrument,” said Medon as he placed a spoonful of stew in his mouth. “You should be so proud to work for a man as brilliant as Tulonan.”

 I almost wanted to point out that Tulonan’s inspiration came from a suggestion I’d made to him, but this was hardly the time for such trivialities.

 I drummed my fingers on the plank boards of the table. “Medon, why do all these people serve you? If you have no intention of trying to improve their social status--”

 “Because they hate the Imperial Tyrant!” interrupted Juniusey. “Don’t you understand, Syndeeka? My nephew had found a place at the convent. He read all the books in the library and we used to go for walks in the gardens. He was finally home. And then they came one day to take the ‘freak of nature’ away to the palace for that wicked man’s amusement. And what the Emperor did to that poor girl…”

 “Medon, if you get your revenge, then what? What happens to you? To your followers? To your aunt? What happens to the millions of people who live under Imperial rule?”

 Medon splayed his fingers in the air. “Some of us live. Some of us die. It would be no different if I chose to stay my hand. But I swore to Inidrey’s bloody remains that I’d punish the man responsible, and”-- he took a slow breath-- “I love her too much to break my word.”

 “If Inidrey could see you now, Medon, I have no doubt in my mind she would be deeply ashamed of you.”

 Mala looked at me with wet, glazed eyes. “Syndeeka, you’re the one who should feel ashamed… of yourself… that’s… that’s the woman he loved…”

 She pitched forward and her head banged into the table.

 I stood.

 Juniusey got up from her place and crossed over to Mala. “Stay where you are, Syndeeka.”

 I felt a gloved hand grab my throat from behind and heard steel hiss from a sheath. Soon a sword blade was touching the skin beneath my chin.

 Juniusey stepped behind Mala and gently pulled her head up off the table. “Make no move to assist your friend, my dear.”

 Another guard left his post near Medon and joined Juniusey. He produced a dagger.

 “What are you going to do?” I asked.

 “We won’t kill her tonight. But I want you to know what we are capable of if you refuse to cooperate.”

 Juniusey let the guard take her place holding Mala’s unconscious body in a sitting position. Then she took the dagger from him and ran it across her forehead. A line of red materialized on her brow and then spilled onto her eyelids.

 “Leave her alone!”

 I strained against the gloved hand holding my throat, only to feel the sting of the blade touching my skin. My eyes darted to Medon, who sat still and calmly regarded the scene.

 Juniusey slitted her eyes as she stared me down. “Will you give us the key?”

 The stinging in my throat was drowned out by a greater pain spilling up from my chest.

 I closed my eyes.

 “Yes. Please don’t kill her. I’ll give you what you want.”

 Juniusey smiled warmly and the guard next to her picked Mala up in his arms. The blood from Mala’s forehead had run down her face and was dripping off her chin, staining her blouse. The guard carried her to the doorway behind Medon.

 The masked giant removed his staff from where it lay beside his chair and used it to pull himself up to his full height. Even from across the table, he seemed to tower over me.

 His scared mouth pulled into a smile. “Syndeeka, I’m touched by your compassion. I knew that beneath all your violence there must reside a gentle soul.”