GLRP E&H Thurisaz: Ill Winds, Part I
Title: Ill Winds, Part I
Author: Prospero Faenis
-+* One * +-
I lie awake and listen to the sounds of the monastery. The quiet used to calm me. I found solace in the sounds of the settling stones and the breezes moving through the rafters. It is a bit unsettling to me now. I hear those breezes and envision dark swirls coming down the hallways, creeping under the doors and enfolding my brothers.
I cannot say when the trouble began. A nearby farmer had given me a poetry book he uncovered in his field. The harrow had dredged up a small metal chest and the book was inside. It is damaged by the elements, but in fair condition despite that. The works were beautiful and I spent every moment I could translating them. My nose was buried in that book, too much I fear, and I was neglecting some of my spiritual duties to the younger ones.
The first sign of trouble I noticed occurred during dinner. Remar, at the far end of the table, rose abruptly from his seat, over turning the chair, and stormed away. Palillo, ever gentle, righted the chair and quietly returned to his own place, keeping his head bowed over his bowl. Timlyn ran from the room, calling for Remar. I turned to Moncrief, my eyes questioning, and he shrugged. Living in these close quarters, one could not expect everyone to live harmoniously all the time. These small incidents would arise from time to time, but they soon blew over.
The next night, as I made my rounds to turn down the lanterns before bed, I heard whispering around the corner. I turned to find Timlyn lying on the floor, his face pressed to Remar's door. When he heard me, he jumped to his feet.
"What is the trouble, young brother?" I asked Tim. "Are you and Remar having some sort of disagreement? Shall I arbitrate for you?"
Timlyn's fair cheeks flushed pink. "No. Nothing to trouble you with, Brother Prospero. I have no quarrel with Remar."
"Then is your quarrel with Remar's door?" I queried. Something was obviously amiss here.
The color of his cheeks deepened. "No, brother. I have no quarrel with anyone."
I put a hand on his shoulder. Timlyn had not been with us long. The desire in him to please everyone was apparent in all he did and the bonds of unconditional love and friendship were tender enough that he did not trust them fully yet. "If you have need of me, I am here for you. I hope you understand this."
He nodded, eyes avoiding mine. "Verily, verily," he ensured. "I will come to you if I have need, Prospero."
I sent him on to his room and tapped softly on Remar's door. "Brother Remar?" I tried the latch and found it was bolted from the other side. This was unusual. I had never known any of my brothers to lock their doors. There was no need. "Brother, are you well?" I asked.
"I am getting into my night clothes," Remar replied, his voice muffled. I could hear movement in the room, the sound of scraping over the floor. The bolt slid and the door opened. He stood pressed against the jam, giving me only a glimpse past him into his quarters. "You have need of me?" he asked, wiping away droplets of sweat from his upper lip.
"I thought you might have need of me," I responded. "You have not seemed yourself of late. I feared you may be coming down with a fever."
He shook his head, turning his eyes from me. "No, I am well enough. I thank you for your show of concern."
He moved back to close the door. I put my palm against the door to stop him. "You will come to me if I may comfort or counsel?"
"Of course. Good night."
The door shut quickly and, again, I heard the bolt slide into place. The scraping sound followed. I raised my hand to tap the door again, but stopped. Whatever the trouble was, it could wait until morning, after we'd all had our rest and the day was new.
I studied Timlyn and Remar during breakfast, stealing glances at them and observing their behavior toward one another. Young men forget that old men were once young, too. They were not the first to share a secret and try to hide it behind coy shrugs and quick gestures. I believed I would have more success in gaining their trust if I did not demand information. Instead, I joined their game, feigning indifference, but watching carefully and making myself available. I had hoped one of them would open up to me of his own volition.
As darkness fell again, I made my rounds. I turned the corner toward Remar's room in time to see a flash of a tan robe slip out of view. Timlyn. I paused beside Remar's door. My ancient ears were no longer able to hear through the thick doors of this place. As my knees creaked and complained, I lowered myself to the floor, peeping under the door as I had seen Timlyn do. My vantage point was less than optimum. I could see that he had moved his bed to the opposite side of the room and that he was perched on a wobbly stool at his desk. What did he study there that required such secrecy? Why was the bed moved? My curiosity was superceding my decorum.
Not without some difficulty, I rose to my feet. Timlyn nearly toppled me over again as he sailed around the corner. By the look of shock he wore, I could see that he was as surprised to find me there as I was to see him.
"I want to know what is going on, Timlyn," I stated firmly. "Will you tell me or should I ask Remar directly?"
The struggle within him was apparent. Timlyn had been trusted with a secret. Divulging it would ruin the trust Remar had placed in him. Not telling it could incur the wrath of his superior. I waved my hand, dismissing him from the order and reached for the latch on Remar's door. Again, it was bolted from the inside. I knocked sharply three times.
"Remar, open the door," I charged. "Open the door this instant."
I could hear him scuttling about as he said, "Yes, Prospero. One moment."
"Not ‘one moment,'" I barked. "Now!"
