Benlunar - Episode 25
Lilian confronts her fears and witnesses and dangerous display of violence.
The city, like a hive is teaming with life
People crawl over it like insects or parasites
It’s a place you can thrive or die in a ditch
Where you can step on the poor to get slightly more rich
When the mountains are flat and the seas are dry
The towers will stand stabbing the sky
As long as there is freedom and people in chains
Humanity dies, Freedos remains
Katherine Brown was a patient woman. In her line of work, she had to be. Being the guardian to three spoilt noble children meant that she had to be very familiar with the word, ‘no’. Katherine had been known to utter nothing but that single word for over an hour. That was a trip to Orlando’s Toy Shop she would never forget. She had always been a caring person, and she loved the little dears really, but it was this love and compassion that made patience come so easy to her. We must be patient with the ones we love, and yes, sometimes Katherine’s patience was confused with stubbornness, but even this could be seen as a caring quality, when used in the right ways. The arrival of Lilian Lausanne in Katherine’s life was a welcome one. Her fondness of caring for others, often above herself, meant that Katherine could provide Lilian with the basic necessities for survival as well as the support she so clearly needed. She expected little in return, finding Lilian to be a charming and fascinating friend, it helped that William liked her too as she trusted his judgement unconditionally. But Katherine’s patience was not unlimited. Even the most generous of wells will eventually run dry. Katherine could sense her reserves of patience waning at that very moment. She was in William’s house, it was getting dark and she seemed to have been having the same conversation with Lilian again and again for the past two hours. It was like she was stuck in some horrible loop, a temporal prison orchestrated by some vengeful wizard. The conversation went something like this:
Lilian would say she was going to ‘do something’ about that man pretending to be her friend Mr Attorcop. Then Katherine or William would tell her that it was too dangerous and that she should leave him alone and try and get on with her life. Lilian would then point to some present circumstance as if to suggest she had no life to be getting on with, this point was sometimes replaced by a plea to their sense of greater good. On more than one occasion Lilian accused Katherine and William of being cowards and shying away from danger. It was these instances that tested Katherine’s patience the most. Katherine would meet the point with another plea for understanding, trying desperately to make this girl see reason. If she tried to hurt or disrupt this strange man or his plans, she might get caught and hurt herself, imprisoned by the Weardian or worst of all, killed. Lilian would think on this for a second and show genuine signs of easing up and forgetting the whole thing before someone mentioned Mr Attorcop again and she would go back to swearing to ‘do something’ about his imposter. At this point the cycle would start over again and Katherine would feel like chewing on a plate. It wasn’t until the sixth or seventh cycle, Katherine had lost track, that something happened to break it.
“Lilian, I know you’re angry.” Katherine knelt beside her new friend, taking her hand in hers and trying to appeal to her sense of self preservation, “But this path you’re going down, I see it ending in you getting yourself hurt and I can’t stand by and let that happen.” There was a long pause, Katherine could see Lilian’s eyes flushing red with salty tears. Perhaps she was finally getting through to her?
“I care too much about you and you’ve only just got here and Freedos can be a really wonderful place if you give it a chance.” Katherine looked back at William who was nodding his head in agreement. Lilian rolled her eyes and finally said something,
“How great can it be if the Weirdmen are involved in such a horrible thing? We saw them Katherine, they were giving him bottles of the stuff, or the ingredients to make it at the very least. And he’s tarnishing my friend’s reputation, he’s selling people Nightshade and we have a chance to deal with him and you’re just sitting in a kitchen feeding each other pie.” Lilian gestured to the pie they had indeed eaten after coming home from the fair. She’d never seen a pie look so guilty. Katherine breathed in deeply and buried her face in her hands. She was sending the bucket down into her well of patience and it was coming up empty.
“Fine. Fine! Let’s say we support you, here, we give you everything you need for your plan. What, a a… knife maybe? A magic key that picks locks and noses at the same time. What then? What do you do Lilian? Kill him? We’ve already established that you can’t tell the Weardian as they seem to be involved as well, so what? Please. I’m genuinely curious as to what difference a thirteen year-old child can make!”
“At least I’m trying to make a difference!” Lilian was standing up now, Fritha did not seem to be enjoying the raised voices and so she chimed in with some jangling grunts, not making the situation any less tense.
“Fine. Good job. Well done for trying.” Katherine was getting angry, “I applaud your efforts, now will you please see reason and know that trying or not trying will amount to exactly the same thing, only one of those options doesn’t get you killed or thrown in the tower.”
“I can take care of myself.” said Lilian in quick defence.
“Oh clearly, is that why I found you half starved in a market or were you just waiting for your butler to bring you back a turkey leg?”
“I didn’t ask for your help.” Lilian felt a tear rolling off her face, she was annoyingly reminded of a lot of conversations she’d had with Mr Attorcop, this only made her feel worse.
“That’s right, you didn’t, but you were happy to accept it and I was happy to give it, I just, I don’t want you to throw everything away by running into the clutches of a clearly dangerous individual.” Lilian clenched her fists, she could feel her untrimmed nails digging into her palms. She wasn’t sure why she said the next phrase, she was just so sick of people telling her what to do, lowering her voice to a cold calmness, she looked at Katherine and said,
“You’re not my mother.” There was a silence, Katherine narrowed her eyes.
“You’re right about that. Because no child of mine would ever be so stupid.”
Lilian was crying now. She missed her mother, she missed her home, she missed Mr Attorcop and she blamed herself for running from all of them. And now she had made new friends and she was about to run from them as well. She looked at the door, she wanted to storm out, cool down and then come back just like she would have done back home. But she knew that if she stormed out now she would not be welcomed back here so quickly. Katherine was not her mother, and she did not owe her anything. For her part, Katherine was regretting what she’d just said, but still felt like Lilian needed to hear it. She WAS being stupid and she was better than that. Her patience had betrayed her, but at the end of the day, speaking her mind in anger had achieved the same thing. Katherine sensed Lilian’s desire to leave, she saw her glancing at the bag, at Fritha and at the door. But Katherine wasn’t going to let that happen. She lowered her voice, now that the dust had settled a little from being kicked up by the storm.
“Lilian, do you think you would be doing all this if Mr Attorcop was here?” Lilian wiped her cheek and spluttered a derisive laugh.
“If Mr Attorcop was here,” she said, “That stupid man would already be on the street and the whole of the Weardian would be dismantled and put in prison.” Katherine considered this.
“And you’d both be able to get on with your work.” Lilian nodded. “Well I understand that you want to punish this imposter, but doing that won’t bring Mr Attorcop back. You know that right?” Lilian had known it. But she had never admitted it to herself. She hadn’t even really married the two worlds together, until now. What would her life look like if the imposter was dealt with? Would it really be that much different to what it was now? And if so, why not just get on with things without risking her life to punish him? Lilian sat back down, slowly. Her eyes fell onto a painting, hanging on the kitchen side wall. It depicted two donkeys tied to one rope, both were attempting to bite a carrot on either side of the field. For the first time that evening, Lilian smiled. There she was, she thought, being an ass. Katherine and William followed her gaze and found the reason for her sudden smile.
“Is that you and me?” she said. Lilian turned to her and shook her head.
“No. It’s all me. I’m sorry Katherine. I’m just… I’m angry.”
“And…” proffered Katherine.
“And stupid.”
“No.” Katherine corrected her, “Scared. You’re scared Lilian and that’s okay. I’m scared all the time.” Lilian looked back at her confused.
“What do you mean?”
“Well…” Katherine took a deep breath, picturing herself at Lilian’s age. “I’m scared. We all are. I’m scared you or someone else I care about is going to get hurt. I’m scared William is going to get hurt, or sick. I’m scared when I walk down an empty street at night, I’m scared at work. I’m scared one of the children I work with will fall and hurt themselves, or worse, get kidnapped. I’m… I’m an adult. And part of growing up means realising that there are things you have no control over. No matter what I do, bad things are going to happen. And that’s scary. I just try to do my best for the people I love and take care of myself because I know they love me.”
Lilian breathed a long sigh. “Being a grown up sounds awful.” Katherine and William laughed, Lilian was glad to hear the sound.
“It’s not.” It was William who spoke, Lilian almost jumped as he’d been quiet for quite a long time. He was looking at Katherine as he said it, Lilian saw the couple share a shy, knowing smile.
“So what, I’m just supposed to be scared now?” Lilian threw her hands up in frustration.
“No, you’ll experience fear of course, my point is, everybody does. And everyone has their own way of dealing with fears. But if you don’t learn to deal with them then your fears can quickly change into anger. I think you’re experiencing that now. You’re feeling powerless and that’s scary. You’re like a mouse that Fritha is chasing. You’re back is up against a wall and this big face is coming right for you.” Katherine playfully shook Fritha by the cheeks. Fritha tried to lick her nose. “You’ve got nowhere to run and you’re terrified so you get angry and you fight! The only difference here is that there is nothing to fight. Sometimes the mouse gets away, other times…” She lifted Fritha’s cheek to reveal her jagged, pointed teeth. It was probably a more morbid image than Katherine had intended, few people realised what kind of teeth Fritha had beneath her dopey face. Fritha rustled through sharp orange and lime green shades before wriggling out of Katherine’s grip.
“You want my advice?” Lilian nodded, “Know that it’s alright to be scared. Pinpoint your fears and look at them, speak them out loud. Shining a light on a demon can often scare it away.”
All this talk of fear had Lilian cycling through her memories. Suddenly that word flared up a memory she would have rather avoided. Demon. She’d said. Lilian saw a flicker of it’s face. She opened her eyes so as to not have it flash in the darkness. The demon. The thing that had taken him. It was terrifying enough without the real root of her fears. Not the demon itself, but what the demon had done with Mr Attorcop. She finally spoke its name.
“I’m scared that Mr Attorcop is dead.” Katherine put her hand on Lilian's knee.
“I know my love.” Lilian’s head was all the way in that fear now. Living the emotional reality of what that really meant. All she could do was sit there and experience all of it in all its grimness. Fritha thankfully pulled her out of her terrible reverie by placing her chin on Lilian’s lap. Lilian watched as she tilted her head back slightly and let out a low and haunting chime. Lilian recognised it as a specific tone she had heard before. She’d come to think of it as Fritha’s warning gong. She had first heard it in the alley in Hundsberg. She assumed it was something she did when she was about to attack. But Fritha wasn’t attacking anyone now.
“That’s a beautiful sound.” Katherine remarked. “What does it mean?”
“It means fear.” replied Lilian. Only just realising that herself, “She does it when she knows people are scared. In Hunds… In this town we went to, they called her a fearhound. I think she knows when people are afraid.”
For the next few days Lilian dipped her toe into Freedos society. She wanted to work and pay William and Katherine back for all their kindness. Lilian would wander the many streets and occasionally ask at an inn or shop if they needed an extra pair of hands. The thoughts of never seeing Mr Attorcop again never truly left her mind, but despite them she found herself enjoying her exploration of the city. She knew to avoid the Weardian whenever she saw them, often going out of her way quite considerably to avoid walking past them. She didn’t mind though, it gave her an excuse to explore new side streets and find hidden gems. There was the bookshop that only sold stories about animals. There was a fountain shaped liked a great sea creature. There was a set of tall houses painted to look like the blue sky. She missed the familiarity and friendliness of Benlunar, but she was beginning to understand why someone might come to live in the city. Not to say that it didn’t have it’s bad points. Everywhere she went Lilian would see evidence of poverty. Or rather, she would see evidence of the vast gulfs between the rich and poor. She was always overhearing stories of peasants who had become nobles by selling ideas or inventions or land but she never seemed to meet any of these people. That might have been due to the fact that the noble neighbourhoods near the top of the hill were mostly hidden behind tall walls and sharp gates and very rude guards. She did occasionally see very well dressed men and women visit the various markets in the lower regions of the city, but she never really dared to talk to any of them. They were always in very tight groups and were usually laughing at some shared joke that Lilian either couldn’t hear or didn’t understand. Whenever they found the time, Katherine would sit with her and they would practise sums and words. She missed studying with Mr Attorcop but found that his teachings had put her a few terms ahead of her contemporaries. Katherine was particularly impressed with her knowledge of history. Occasionally she would walk near Mr Attorcop’s house but she never lingered and even tried to avoid looking at the door. The sense of injustice still burned in her belly, but what could she do?
It wasn’t until the start of the second week that Lilian found a job. It was at a taxidermists shop. She had gone in to get a better look at the giant stuffed bird on display in the window. She chatted with the owner, Mr Twitchett about how she’d seen a similar sized bird in her hometown once. They seemed to get on well and Lilian noticed that a lot of the animals and shelves were very dusty. After offering to clean them Mr Twitchett asked if she was able to do more for him as he needed someone to look after deliveries and do odd jobs so that he could focus more on actually completing orders. The pair shook hands and Lilian left the shop with a smile on her face. With her first set of wages she bought a side of boar from the butcher and cooked William and Katherine a big meal as thanks for their generosity. By the end of the second week Lilian was getting used to a new lifestyle. She had a meeting with a landlady to talk about a room, Mr Twitchett’s wages couldn’t afford her a nice house like William’s, but she was tired of relying on his hospitality.
She was currently on her way to the post office to mail a letter to her parents. She’d managed to send a few notes back with travellers on the journey but she’d prefer it if her mum and dad had an address that they could write back to. Lilian had some time before picking up a delivery so she took the opportunity to head to Laga quarter. She queued, paid the postmaster (after a brief explanation as to where exactly Benlunar was) and walked out into a cloudy day. Sun was still visible at times and Lilian tried walking from pocket to pocket of sunshine while walking towards Checkad square. The streets were dusty from midsummer heat and all the cobbles and buildings looked like they were painted sandy brown. Most people’s clothes, including her own, carried patches of the brown dirt, which, when even slightly wet, would cake and crumble into the fabrics. Only nobles stood out in this picture. Their garish colours would herald their arrival through the sandy palatted city. Lilian had heard that it was the dry dust coming in from the fields with the high winds. She rather liked it. At times she pictured herself in the city of Zandt, a lone desert wanderer having finally reached the glittering city. She was imagining this now, feeling the crunch of the dust under her feet and taking in the monochrome city. There were no nobles in sight, so Lilian was surprised to see a flash of purple inserted in the pale boulevard. Someone up ahead had something in his hand. It was the only spot of colour in view so it stuck out like a bright purple pimple. Something in the back of Lilian’s mind rang alarm bells for some reason and she snapped out of her daydream to realise she was in the midst of a rather spirited crowd. The atmosphere was fraught with tension, Lilian was shocked not to have noticed it sooner. A circle was gathering around the man with the purple in his hand. What is that? Thought Lilian. She approached the circle, feeling that there was something familiar there. When she reached the group, she could hear raised voices from its centre but had to strain on the tips of her toes to see any details. Five men were apart, enclosing on another. He was shouting a warning, a threat of some sort. He was holding a bottle. A bottle of purple stuff. It took her far longer than it should have, but Lilian’s brain suddenly lurched into gear. This man was threatening to drink Nightshade. She thought about getting all these people off the street, she could shout a warning but something kept her. Looking back, she realised it was the same thing that everyone in the crowd shared at that moment. That was why they stayed. Not because they didn’t know its effects, but because they had never seen them in action. Lilian felt a little embarrassed to find herself admitting that she would quite like to see what happened if indeed he did decide to drink it. If he didn’t drink it the crowd were all safe, and if he did then they got a good story out of it. For all the onlookers it was a strange and deliberate choice to remain close by. And so Lilian stayed, she even crept between two men wearing thin scarfs across their faces to get a better look. A few people in the crowd were wearing similar coverings, to prevent the dust from settling in their mouths and noses. No one was cheering or even saying much. A few people would occasionally mutter the words ‘easy’ or ‘alright now’ at the panicking man.
For his part, he was shouting at the five men in front of him, seemingly unconcerned about the crowd. He was wearing grey blue jodhpurs and a white shirt. Well, at least it had been white before the dust and sweat had begun dying it brown. He was unshaven and unkempt, his eyes looked especially tired. Lilian emerged into the inner circle in time to hear him shout,
“You idiots need to start turning around and heading back to whatever hole you crawled out of. I’ve got three more bottles and my father lived a looong life.” One of the other men, a bald man with a ring in his ear replied.
“This ain’t the place for it Genaro, there’s five of us and we only want a word.”
“I know what you want you damned liar.” The man named Genaro, answered back. Lilian was watching every detail intently. She wanted to see everything, in case she needed to remember it later.
“Awright then. You got us. We’re here from Bried. Give us what you owe and we’ll be on our way. We can take that as payment if you like.” The big man pointed to the bottle of Nightshade and smiled. Lilian was aware that at the mention of the name ‘Bried’, several members of the crowd broke away and went about their business. Rather unnervingly, it had caused Genaro to laugh. He kept snickering for a good while before muttering something, half to his counterpart, half to himself. Lilian had to quickly slip into focus to catch it.
“This already is for Bried you great oaf.” And with that he flicked his thumb unstopping the bottle and brought the glass to his mouth. Lilian watched him take a big gulp of the purple concoction, his eyes winced as he tasted it. Once he’d started drinking half the group scattered. Lilian felt safe at this distance but she still had no idea what to expect. Lilian would reflect later that had she and the rest of them known the effects of Nightshade they probably would have scattered as well.
Lilian watched the man bend over as if something had just hit him in the stomach. The action was so quick he dropped the bottle and the rest of the Nightshade spilled over the cobbles, staining the dust. Lilian heard the man, Genaro, let out a guttural howl, it was a sad and pained sound yet one that managed to send a trickle of fear down Lilian’s back. She became very aware of where she was standing and felt the sudden need to put something between her and Genaro. Glancing around she noticed a cart a few feet behind her, covered to protect its wears from the dust. She rushed over to it and crouched behind it, turning just in time to watch the group of thugs back away from him. The man with the earring turned his large head towards one of his friends, a smaller man with a tight set jaw.
“Take him out.” He only raised his voice a small amount, probably not wanting to startle or inform Genaro of his plan. The smaller man looped a cord off his neck and shoulder and reached round behind him for a crossbow. Lilian had only ever seen one other crossbow in her life and she was sure that having them within the city walls was against the law. This man clearly didn’t care about being spotted by the Weardian, who were suspiciously nowhere to be seen. Lilian heard the click of the wire being set into place. A moment later there was a loud crack and the bolt was flying through the air. Lilian held her breath and braced for impact. But none came. A miss. The bolt must have flown wide. Had Lilian shut her eyes? She could have sworn the aim was true. Genaro was still writhing hunched over the floor. Lilian wondered if he had drunk a fake or was having a bad reaction. It wouldn’t matter as seconds later the crossbow had been loaded again and the man was taking aim. This time, Lilian made sure to watch Genaro and she was glad she did. When the bolt loosed, if she had been watching its journey she might have missed the slightest shift in Genaro’s body. His painful convulsions were working in his favour as the bolt flew past him once again, missing so tightly that it practically grazed his shoulder. Lilian wondered if he might have done it on purpose. The larger man with the earring was getting impatient. He walked over to the man with the crossbow and snatched it off him muttering something that Lilian didn’t quite catch. She watched as he loaded it, took aim and loosed.
By now Genero was standing up straight, looking directly at his attacker. Lilian caught a glimpse of his eyes, they seemed darker than before and Lilian saw a flash purple liquid eeking out from his left tear duct. He was smiling a strange and beastly grin. It was like a wolf had just dug a hole to find five terrified marmots. When the man with the earring loosed the bolt, Lilian saw a flash of movement and saw it scatter away on the floor. A few weeks later Lilian would overhear someone tell the story that he caught it, but she knew that Genaro had batted it to the side like a cat swatting at a fly. He moved with unnatural speed. In an instant Genaro was beside the big man, he whacked the crossbow straight down using both arms and Lilian saw it plummet out of the man’s hands and smash into splinters on the flagstones. The rest of the men were already pulling knives out from hidden pockets and running at Genaro. The first slashed down, the second across but Genaro danced back avoiding every strike. He wasn’t speaking but Lilian could hear his heavy breathing. With each new strike he would duck or dodge. Lilian began to worry as they seemed to be pushing him back towards her. One of the mob tried to grab Genaro’s hand as they crossed the road. Genaro hit it with his free hand with a sickening slap crack and Lilian watched the attacker grip his wrist and fall back, tears already in his eyes. Occasionally one of the men would say something, trying vainly to appeal to this creature’s sense of reason. That’s all Lilian could see now, a creature, a beast of a man. Genaro even stood like an animal, hunched low with arms out wide. Batting away swipes and blows came easy to him, Lilian thought he might even be toying with the men. But then, through some strange law of pure probability, a knife got through. Lilian just spied a line of red appear along Genaro’s right arm. Genaro was looking at it, examining the damage and assessing it with the cold indifference one might show when looking at a broken wheel of a wagon. Suddenly Genaro turned and took two or three long strides towards the market cart Lilian was hiding behind. Lilian tried to back away and only just managed to shuffle back a few steps on the dusty floor before the whole stall lifted off the ground and shot towards the remaining group of men. Lilian had watched the whole thing, but her mind wasn’t ready to put the reality together. Had Genaro really just thrown that entire stall? Lilian was snapped back to the moment by the sound of it crashing down. It was fast enough to catch two of them off guard, they disappeared behind its bulk without a sound. The stall took them with it as it hit the floor. It must have been a potter’s stall because Lilian saw a thousand shards of clay burst from beneath it as it fell. The legs buckled and snapped, the wooden front wall broke clean in two and the men behind it were no longer heard from. It was at this point that the group decided that this was probably too much trouble to be worth the hassle so they turned on their heels and ran. This was lucky for Liliian as the fight was moving away, but it was unlucky for them because Genaro decided to give chase.
Sometime later, Lilian calmed down and decided to get back to work. She had considered heading back to William’s but realised that she wasn’t hurt and so saw no reason not to continue on with her day. She did of course alter her direction if she ever heard screams or crashes coming from the network of city streets. The nature of the encounter had not quite sunk in, but by the time she reached the taxidermist’s shop her legs were feeling weak and she had a cold headache. Mr Twitchett bought her a chair to sit on after she practically stumbled in. She thanked him and explained what she had just seen.
“My goodness you poor thing.” Mr Twitchett had a funny way of talking that usually made Lilian smile, but currently she was too distracted to think about it.
“Can I get you something? A tea perhaps?” Lilian briefly wondered why everyone in the city loved tea so much, but she quickly admitted that a tea did sound nice. Mr Twitchett pottered into the back where he had a small stove and Lilian was left alone. She breathed deeply, trying to simultaneously forget and remember everything about what had just happened. She turned to look out of the window into the street, searching for a distraction. At first she enjoyed imagining the stories of all the people that walked past the window, but then something changed in the picture and Lilian almost fell off her chair.
Through the feathers and faces of all the animals on display in the window Lilian could see a man. He was stumbling round the corner from a side street, propping himself up on the wall. With the identical shirt and trousers on she realised that it must be Genaro. He seemed to be heading straight for the taxidermist which put Lilian’s heart in her throat. She prayed to some forgotten God on the wall of the Stave Church that he would turn around, or at least head in a different direction. But after several shaky steps he had his hand on the handle of the shop door and was twisting it to get inside. Genaro took one step into Mr Twitchett’s shop, looked around with dark, purple stained eyes and then collapsed in a heap on the floor.