Benlunar - Episode 10
The hunters and the hunted.
Take the road up through the mystic mountains
Past the fantastic fishing fields and fountains
Three days through the Titan woods
Whose trees glare down through leafy hoods
Crawl in the darkness of the biting caves
It’s more dangerous the other ways
Then finally find yourself later or sooner
In the hidden valley town Benlunar
In the market square in front of the Stave Church in the middle of Benlunar there are many different stalls, each selling something unique, made with love and care by the stall’s owner’s. All are different but one thing many stalls have in common, is a small set of metal scales used to weigh products against a standard set of weights made by Benlunar’s own blacksmiths and measured to the standards set in the city of Freedos. The scales represent an unspoken agreement, they are so accurate that some say larger cities use scales as a symbol of justice outside their courts. The fairness and trust that these simple instruments represent can be seen as a universal language spoken all over the world. A few days ago, Lilian Lausanne had found herself transfixed by a set of these scales whilst her mother was buying oats at the market. The brass bowls reflected the summer sun and gave a satisfying clink as they hit the peuter stand signifying that balance had been found. She had found the image entering her head several times in the days to follow and each time it did, she found herself getting angry. Fairness. She would think. How could anyone believe in such a concept? Was it fair when rich children were born into rich families, and poor children starved to death? Was it fair to be accused of a crime one didn’t commit and be forced to serve the sentence? And was the world fair when disease killed a child? At these times she would curse the gods. All the high and mighty creatures on the Stave Church walls, looking down at mortals and tossing them aside like taken chess pieces. At no point did she feel this burning anger more strongly than in this moment. The moment when she was face to face with a mythical creature that her friend had so desperately wanted to see again. She felt an existential rage boil up from her belly, pushing away all the sadness that had been there only moments ago. And yet she could not look away. For it was looking back at her.
Against the backdrop of the forest floor, leaves the colour of burnt sugar crunching under its padded feet, stood an animal Lilian had never seen before. Two cat like eyes cut through the gloom and stared at her, unblinking. It had a snout, like a dog but its ears were pointy. From this distance Lilian could see its wet nostrils flaring as it drank in the evening’s scent. Its fluffy tail flicked back and forth in wariness from the back of its soft coat. It’s fur was a light brown but as soon as Lilian registered this, it flickered and changed. One moment it was brown, then it shimmered into a mossy green and then a flash of orange and for the quickest instant it was as blue as the sky had been that morning. And it was big, easily as big as Ortan’s dog, Silky, although it had a more regal way of holding itself, less slobbery and floppy. Lilian’s anger faded, replaced by wonder. She knew she ought to be scared, but she still felt too much sadness and anger. She found her breath again and began to slowly inhale as she shifted her weight to take a tentative step back. She heard a strange noise coming from the creature, which by now she knew had to be the Feinhound that they had been looking for all this time. It sounded like purring, but more metallic and melodious. It wasn’t an aggressive sound she thought, but more like the sound animals make when they want to keep you at bay. If it had been a dog, thought Lilian, it would have been a low growl. Lilian took the hint and started to step back even further. She didn’t want to, she wanted to run up to it, to touch it, to look at its fur, but life in the country growing up around the wild had taught her better than that. After 4 steps the Feinhound moved, it flattened its ears and stopped growling and crouched down close to the forest floor. At which point it promptly disappeared. Lilian stopped breathing once again. She was staring, unblinking at the spot where the Feinhound had been but she could no longer see it. She glanced left at a group of trees then right at a small thicket, hoping to see movement. But she saw nothing. Had she imagined it? She blinked several times, hoping to will it back into existence. But the light was quickly fading from the forest and the few thin streaks through the canopy from the setting sun were quickly disappearing. Lilian felt like she was trying to remember a dream upon waking. Every second that past sent the feinhound deeper into obscurity. She turned to leave, to head back to Benlunar the way she came. She hadn’t gone 20 steps however when she paused again. With every step she took, she could have sworn she could hear another step, a second or even third crunch in the leaves a few feet behind her. Lilian spun around, expecting to see the Feinhound again, but there was nothing there. She turned back and started to walk again, keeping an ear out for what she’d thought she’d heard. This time she was sure of it. With every step she took through the leaves Lilian heard a corresponding crunch coming from directly behind her. Suddenly, Lilian remembered something. She fumbled around her pockets until she found the heavy coin, her fingers touched the cold gold of the sovereign that had been given to her that night in the alley. She lifted it up to her eyeline and held it out a little to the left. The shine of the coin gave a slight reflection, and Lilian was trying to spot anything strange happening behind her as she went. She had to walk quite a way but once she’d shifted the coin enough she found what she was looking for. Sure enough, with every step she took, the leaves a few feet behind her moved. If she stopped, they stopped. She was being followed she thought. And then, her heart began to race as her common sense came crashing through her amazement. Moments earlier she had been wandering through the forest, not paying attention to anything but her own thoughts, and when she had looked up she had taken a strange and wild animal by surprise. Was it likely now then that it was following her? Or was it… hunting her?
Lilian instinctively quickened her pace. Her running made the already foggy mirror image become useless so she shoved the coin back into her pocket and broke into a run. The wind in her ears and the quick crunch of leaves as well as the sound of branches being flicked back made it impossible to tell if the footsteps were still behind her. All Lilian knew as she ran that was with each step she took, she had not been caught. And so she continued. She ran back through the forest, towards the river which she could now her in the distance. Once she reached it she splashed through it, slipping at one point and getting drenched. Once she had climbed back up the hill to her house however, she did not stop, she didn’t even give her kitchen window a second glance as she rushed past it, all the way up the path and on to Benlunar’s cobbled streets. By now her legs were heavy with exhaustion and she was taking quick, gulping breaths. She narrowly avoided bumping into a cart and donkey as she crossed the town square, the animal’s heehaw sounds echoed in the distance already as she ran up the top street, into the Stepson house, it’s heavy wooden door already open to the breeze. By the time she climbed the last few steps up to Mr Attorcop’s attic room, cursing his ridiculous choice of lodging under her breath, she was almost ready to collapse. She did in fact fall briefly to the floor, trying desperately to catch her breath as she sat against the wall, peering through her sweat stung eyes to see if Mr Attorcop was even in the room. He was. He was staring bewildered at the damp and exhausted girl that had burst through his floor unapologetically. In his hand he was holding a paper weight shaped like a spider and Lilian saw that she had interrupted him about to place it in trunk by his desk. This drew her attention to the rest of the room and she saw that it was filled with half empty boxes and bags. She turned her head to see various piles of clothes lying on the bed, some folded in neat piles. Mr Attorcop was wearing a grey tunic and black, loose fitting trousers and seemed to be in the middle of packing up his belongings.
“My dear girl, please don’t sit there, your dripping on my hat.” Lilian looked down to see that she had almost crushed a luxurious black suede hat and that there was indeed water dripping from her smock onto one of the brass buttons around the hat’s edge. She mumbled an apology and shifted herself away from it.
“What in Enoch’s name has happened to you?” Asked Mr Attorcop as he went back to packing his belongings. Lilian wanted to answer, but between breaths she could only say a few words.
“What… what are you doing?” Mr Attorcop didn’t look back at her, instead he spoke off handedly while examining a book, wondering which box to put it in.
“I’m packing of course. I did tell you I’d be leaving soon.” Lilian was taken aback. Everything these last few days had been so clouded over by what had happened to Kilde, she had forgotten that Mr Attorcop was leaving Benlunar. She realised that she hadn’t actually seen him since that night at Kilde’s house. She pushed the memory out of her mind, feeling a familiar lump appear in her throat at the very thought of it. Mr Attorcop looked up from packing.
“Lilian, I know these last few days have been difficult, but if you’re going to go mad I really wish you would tell me.” Lilian shook her head and snapped her attention back to the matter at hand. Her pulse was slowing now and her head was clearing.
“I saw it.”
“Saw what?” said Attorcop, throwing a few pages into a waste basket.
“I saw the feinhound. The thing that me and Ki… The animal I told you about, the one who’s fur we found. I saw it in the woods.”
Mr Attorcop slowly turned to look at her. He paused for a second and then walked over to where she was and sat down on the floor in front of her. Lilian almost giggled at how out of place he looked, sat cross legged like a child playing with wooden soldiers. He wore a serious expression as he spoke.
“Tell me what happened exactly.” Lilian had finally managed to slow her breathing and began to tell him everything that had just happened, she even brought out her gold sovereign to show him how she had used its shiny surface to look behind her. Mr Attorcop listened very patiently barely changing his expression as she spoke. When she finally reached the part about arriving at the Stepson house he took a deep breath and gazed at the clutter of his attic room, he seemed to be weighing what to say in his mind, ordering the words carefully like packing precious things into a trunk.
“Lilian,” He said finally, “do you know the difference between an objective and a subjective truth?” Lillian hadn’t expected this as a response to her story, she raised her eyebrows, curious as to what this had to do with mythical, disappearing dogs.
“No…” She had heard the words before but couldn’t confidently say she knew their meanings. Mr Attorcop reached behind him and grabbed a glass vial, one of the ones he’d use in his many experiments, it was a similar size to the vials of essence Lillian had seen, but not as ornate.
“You see this,” He said, holding it in front of himself, “Neither you or I or anyone observing us would argue that this vial is not here. I can see it, I can touch it I can smell what might have been inside it.” He tossed the small object between his hands, as if really making sure it was indeed real. “This vial being here with us now, that is an objective truth, meaning that it remains true for anyone and everyone, no matter who you are. With me so far?” Lillian nodded, “Good. Now, how this vile makes you feel, what it might remind you of, what it signifies to you, these things are all just as real as the vial itself, but they will be different for you and me. I have different memories or thoughts associated with this object, compared to you. That is called, a subjective truth, it IS true, but only for me, just as your subjective truths are true only for you.” Lillian still didn’t understand what this had to do with anything. Mr Attorcop threw the small bottle carelessly into a pile of cloth rags.
“This experience you’ve just had,” he continued, “There is no doubt in my mind that you did indeed witness something, that you had some sort of supernatural encounter. But I believe that it would be classed as a subjective truth, rather than an objective truth.” Lillian began to understand and she began to feel anger rise up inside her, of all the people she wanted to tell she told Mr Attorcop first because she was sure he would believe her.
“You’re saying it wasn’t real? But I saw it! Just like I’m seeing you.”
“I’m not saying that,” He reassured, “I do believe you saw something, all I’m saying is that, had I been there too, I would not have seen anything. Because when I think about all the things that constitute an animal, I remember that the ability to disappear is not one of them. It’s like when people see ghosts or have out-of-body experiences, they are true but they are not objective truths.” Lillian paused for a second. She shook her head in annoyance,
“So magical moon water and and and secret assassins and demons! They’re all real but the animal I saw today was not?” Mr Attorcop’s eyes grew concerned,
“Lillian, considering what you’ve been through, it’s not surprising that your mind would…” Lillian cut him off,
“No. Don’t say that, don’t use what happened to Kilde to make me sound like I’m going mad. I know what I saw and... and if you don’t believe me then, well, I’ll catch it, I’ll stay in Benlunar and I’ll catch it and prove it to you.” Mr Attorcop stood up.
“I’m sorry Lillian, I know this is frustrating. But as you can see…”He gestured the cluttered room, “I’m rather busy. If you would like, this evening, you and I can meet and discuss everything you been through these last few days and we can… we can say goodbye.” This stopped Lillian’s train of thought in its tracks.
“Goodbye?” She said, “What do you mean?”
“Well, I plan to leave Benlunar tomorrow or the day after at the latest. If you would like to come with me then that offer still stands. But I understand if you would rather stay here with your family. Either way, tonight you say goodbye. Either to me, or to Benlunar.”
Lillian left the Stepson house with a million more questions than when she had arrived. She wanted to continue her lessons with Mr Attorcop, but she had a lot of reasons to want to stay in Benlunar. She could help Stine, she could help her parents she could honour Kilde by trying to capture the Feinhound and prove its existence to the world. She could try and find out more about why Brother Thomas had that silver hand in his cupboard. She stopped suddenly in the market square. The setting sun was slowly turning the mountain behind her a beautiful peach colour and the last few stall holders were packing up their wares. The silver hand. What with everything that had been happening these last few weeks she had completely forgotten about it. She hadn’t even asked Mr Attorcop. She considered turning back but didn’t fancy another lecture about how she was going mad. Instead, her eyes fell on the Stave Church. It’s dark wood catching the pink light of the sky. How could something so beautiful hide a liar in its depths. Without evening thinking Lilian felt her feet move towards the Church doors. What did she have to lose? She thought. Her best friend was dead, she might be leaving the town altogether, sadness and anger drove her forward to confront Brother Thomas directly. She flung the bulky doors open as if she was about to confront the Gods themselves. And why shouldn’t she? She thought. They had taken her best friend and were refusing to provide her with answers. Their quiet images gazed down at her from the walls and tapestries as she marched into the main hall. She scowled at Kina, Goddess of the seasons in her form of a hare. The carving’s blank black eyes stared back at her, indifferent. She stormed past a statue of Liebling, the Goddess of goodness and fairness. Lilian stopped to look at the marble woman, posing with a doe in some flowers. Lillian used to love that statue, but now she wanted to push it off its plinth and watch it shatter. That would show her. Goddess of fairness, she thought, more like Goddess of…
“Lillian?” She snapped out of her spiteful trance to see Brother Thomas walking out of the back room carrying a book. Lillian didn’t know what to say, she thought that if she opened her mouth she would start shouting or crying, so she just stood in front of Liebling, fists clenched and eyes glaring.
“Lillian is everything alright?” Brother Thomas’ soft voice and compassionate manner didn’t fool her anymore. She let him speak as he approached her, his voice echoing off the walls and tall ceiling.
“I did wonder if I might see you. Thank you again for helping with the service the other day. I know that must have been difficult. How are you holding up?” Lillian said nothing, she continued to glare at him as she felt tears forcing their way into her eyes. Brother Thomas changed the subject.
“Ah. Liebling. Yes I suppose things don’t seem very fair or good these days do they? But you know, she can still be with us even when things seem terrible. Do you know why she is often seen with a doe?” Lillian finally snapped and cut him off.
“What was that silver hand?”
“Excuse me?” Brother Thomas looked genuinely confused.
“The silver hand brooch in the box. What is it? Where did you get it and what does it mean?” She had thrown off all caution, if she was going to leave Benlunar she would leave with answers or not at all. She studied Brother Thomas, his expression was fixed and quizzical. His words came out measured and careful.
“That was a gift. Many years ago I was given it as thanks for…” Lillian cut him off with a shout.
“Enough!” Her cry echoed around the hall for a long time. Brother Thomas’ face remained calm but Lillian saw his lips purse in anger. The two stared at each other. Lillian was not going to be intimidated, nor was she going to change the subject. Finally Brother Thomas sighed and walked over to a wooden bench where he sat down. Lilian did not join him. She studied him as he sat, his face looked suddenly tired as if he’d just set down a great weight. He looked back up at Lillian.
“I don’t know why you want to know about that brooch. It seems as though you’ve found out from someone or somewhere that it isn’t just a pretty piece of jewelry. Gods know how. Truth be told I should have thrown it away years ago.” He took a deep breath and sighed.
“It probably comes as no surprise to you that I wasn’t always a Church Brother. I grew up in Freedos and I come from a very poor family. Being poor in the city isn’t like being poor out here. There is no… community there. You can’t rely on friends or strangers to take care of you if you fall on hard times. Everyone is out for themselves, and those who fall behind get left behind. So when you’re born with nothing you take what you can get. Growing up I fell in with a group of people who were, let’s say, less than friendly. I worked for them and they gave me food and money in return. Good money too. Anyway, cutting a long story short I was once asked by someone outside the group to provide information on my boss. They offered me money and they wore a silver hand on their breast. For several weeks I reported to them in secret and gave them information on raids or robberies that we were planning. I figured that it didn’t matter where the money was coming from as long as it kept coming and if I was careful I could be a servant of two masters and earn double the salary. Well, that worked for a while. Luckily the group never found out but they had their suspicions. Eventually they were all arrested, even me, but I was released in secret. Anyway from then on I worked for The Guiding Hand. That’s what they called themselves.”
“Who are they?” Asked Lilian, she had approached Brother Thomas by now but still did not sit by him.
“They are a group of families, individuals, businesses all sorts. Basically rich people with nothing better to do than route out trouble and put a stop to it. They claim to stand against tyranny and guide society into prosperity through secrecy. They put a stop to tyranny if they see it and they make sure the guilty are punished.” Lillian was confused.
“They sound like good people.” She said, “Why did you leave?” Brother Thomas looked back at the statue of Liebling and the doe. He smiled.
“That’s one lesson the fables don’t teach us Lillian, but it’s one of the most important ones.”
“What?” She asked.
“Everyone thinks they are a good person. The guiding hand were no different. I’m sure that amongst its many members, there might even be some genuinely good people. But with every ounce of power, it becomes easier to justify a terrible deed.” Brother Thomas held his hands out in front of, palms up as if holding invisible weights. Lillian watched as his right hand came down, bringing his left up to meet it in the middle. Brother Thomas continued,
“Power gives you the luxury of creating your own morality. I left the hand because I didn’t agree with the means they used to justify their ends. Peace and justice are all very good, but if it comes at the cost of murder and blackmail then… well… that’s not the kind of peace I’d want to be a part of.” Brother Thomas stood up with a sigh and walked past Lillian towards the Church’s back rooms. Lillian was left alone with the Gods. She had answers now, but they had come with their own set of questions. She found herself looking towards a large tapestry depicting the Padda Stone against the Benlunar peak. None of this would have happened if she hadn’t decided to paint that silly toad, she thought. In the dim light of the hall the great stone toad looked as if it might be smiling at her. Lillian turned when she heard Brother Thomas come back. He was holding something in his hands, Lillian saw it glint as it caught the candle light. As he approached he spoke softly,
“I left Freedos and joined the Church because I was sick of having to justify bad things to myself each night as I tried to sleep. With these stories and this life to guide me, I know for sure that I can be a good person.” He held out his hands and placed the object into Lillian’s palm.
“What ever you choose to do with this, remember, the roads to good and evil are oft made of the same stone.” Lillian looked down and saw a shiny, silver brooch in the shape of a hand resting in her palm.
That evening, after Lillian had gone home to wash and change, she hid the brooch in her room among her belongings. She then sat down for dinner with her parents and told them that she would be leaving Benlunar the next day. She had made the decision on her way back from the Stave Church. In the back of her mind though she had always known that she would choose to leave. She loved Benlunar but the town was now heaped in painful reminders. She didn’t want every path or tree she saw to remind her of Kilde. In a strange way, his death made leaving Benlunar a little easier, as she didn’t feel as though she was leaving him behind and going off on adventures without him. That would have felt strange somehow. She chatted with her parents over a delicious cheese and ham pie her father had cooked for dinner and when they had finished her parents helped her pack a few things into an old bag.
Late in the evening Lillian kept her promise to meet Mr Attorcop. She kept her wits about her on the walk, just in case the Feinhound decided to conveniently show itself. The memories of the strange animal were already beginning to fade as they were mixed up with dark pasts and strange silver brooches. Her mind was on Kissandra the assassin as she stepped out of the tree line and into view of the Padda Stone where Mr Attorcop was already waiting for her. He smiled as she approached.
“It seems like years since I saw you that night, skulking around those bushes.” Lillian grinned, remembering how scared and confused she had been the night the Padda Stone had woken up. She’d grown up a lot since then and found that after everything she’d been through in the last few months, leaving Benlunar for two years, might not be so scary.
“Have you thought about what I said?” Mr Attorcop spoke softly as Lillian stood in front of him. She gazed past him, up at the Padda Stone, its serene smile still visible in the light of the stars. It was a warmer and calmer night than when she had seen the lunar essence spill from its mouth and light up the pool below.
“Yes.” She replied softly, “I want to come with you. But you knew that already didn’t you?” Mr Attorcop smiled again, Lillian thought she almost saw him laugh.
“Well I wouldn’t say I KNEW…” Lillian rolled her eyes.
“Why did you want to meet here?” She asked, looking around.
“Well I thought that if you were going to say goodbye to me this setting would provide a satisfactory sense of symmetry, and if you were saying goodbye to Benlunar then somehow this place feels more like the spirit of the town rather than any of the actual buildings.” Lillian remembered her encounter earlier that day in the Stave Church and nodded her head in agreement.
“Well, what time would you like to leave tomorrow?” she asked. Mr Attorcop raised his eyebrows,
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” He gestures behind him to the stone and the mountain. Lillian snorted, he didn’t expect her to actually say the words did he? But then she paused. Why shouldn’t she say them? This ancient statue was alive, sort of, and so it might be able to sort of appreciate it. She stepped past Mr Attorcop and gazed up at the great stone toad. She smiled and spoke softly, feeling a little self conscious as she did.
“Goodbye Padda Stone, Gorakja and goodbye Benlunar. Thank you for… the food. The fun. The family, and the friends.” She smiled and turned back to Mr Attorcop.
“How was that for satisfactory symmetry?” She looked at Mr Attorcop but he was standing still, gazing out over the pools in front of them.
“Hey come on,” She said walking over to him, “I thought that was pretty clever.” She came to a stop when she saw Mr Attorcop’s expression. His face was very still, his eyes were wide and fixed intensely ahead of him.
“Mr Attorcop?” Lillian asked, starting to worry a little, “Are you alright?” Finally after a few long and painful seconds, he spoke.
“What… in all the names of all the Gods is that?”
Lillian followed his gaze and peered into the darkness. She couldn’t be sure of what she was looking for, but after a few scans of the trees and waters ahead she saw them. A pair of large eyes were staring back at them through the gloom. Eyes, like that of a cat.