Swallowed Sun

The sound of a chair being pulled across the well-worn wood of my home woke me, not that I was really asleep. Deep sleep escapes me most nights, only with the assistance of various substances, illicit or otherwise, could I sleep properly. Sleep was now the least of my concerns. I grab a sheathed dagger hidden beneath my mattress. Nobody with good intent will be in my bookshop at this time. Trying to be as light-footed as possible, I rise. Despite the apprehension I feel and despite the want to turn and flee, I feel a greater need to see who has invaded the walls I call home. Luckily, the sudden cloudburst would do much to dampen my weary steps.

Turning round the steps outside my room, dagger in hand, I skip the first creaking step. I first see a child, no more than eight or nine, wet and petrified. My heart sinks, not for the child, but for who else I may discover. Nothing good ever comes from a stranger’s child scared stiff in your home in the early hours of the morning. The child’s dress indicates that he is not of common folk. Despite it being plain, it is well tailored. Generally a cost far beyond the average common folk of the region or its neighbors. 

My worries were well-founded. Sitting by my table was a shawled figure smoking a pipe. With an intake of breath and a dull glow made brighter by burning tobacco, I see a scarred face far too familiar for my liking. Once more, the face disappeared into darkness. A state of nature the face's bearer preferred to operate from.

‘Ah, Konrad, good to see you,’ the scarred figure said, far too pleasantly. Of all the people in the world, the man before me was the last person I wanted to see. ‘What’s it been? Fourteen years?’

‘Fourteen years, almost to the day,’ I say, a familiar low growl underlies my words. I grip the dagger tighter. The man before me is more than capable of both killing me and ordering someone else to do the job. The fact that he is here alone is frightening and even if I come out of this alive, my life will be forever changed.

‘Put, the blade away, you're frightening the child,’ he says, the friendly demeanor still in place. ‘Besides, if I wanted you dead, I would have had you killed by that pretty little thing that delivered your first lot of books all those years ago. And, yes, I was your first client. In other words, you owe me,’ My heart sinks further, the friendly demeanor was still there but the hints of a debt needing to be repaid edged his words. I owed him, I knew it to be true, something else to be certain of. ‘Pour us a brandy will you, the rain has followed me to your door and I could do with something to warm my weary bones. Would you like anything, Felix?’

The child shook his head and mumbled what I interrupted to be a no. The child's name meant fortunate. To be stuck with such a travelling partner heralded unfortunate times, for me and the lad. I walked over to where I kept my few glasses and an assortment of liquors I had collected over the years. I placed my dagger there, I won’t be killed tonight, at least. It's true, if my uninvited guest wanted me dead, I would be dead. I could distinctly remember how beautiful my first client was, or at least who I perceived as my first client.

A pretty widow selling a minor noble's book collection. That was the lie I most certainly fell for at the time. Auburn hair, green eyes, a color mirrored in her dress. The dress tailored, incredibly well I might add, to tastefully display her other physical assets. I was just as easy to manipulate as everyone else, it seems.

Pouring two glasses with a brandy I was given as a gift for sourcing a rare tome for one of the neighboring princes, I make my way back to the table and place the dark amber liquid on the table. It was still awfully dark and move to light some candles. To ease my own concerns rather than anybody else’s. Only then do I rather deliberately pull a chair and sit across from my guest. I feel this show is rather pointless, seeing who is before me, but I feel better for asserting some kind of authority in my own home.

‘What do you want, Karl?’ I almost bark the words, but with a soft menace I believed I no longer possessed.

‘I didn’t expect much of a welcome, but not even a “How are you, Karl?”, it is beyond rude, especially for one who held such a lofty station in a previous life.’ Karl says with feigned offense. He removes the shawl of oil worked cloth, a must for remaining somewhat dry in these northern reaches. If it is not snowing, it is raining. Sunshine, the rarest of commodities, even in the summer months more dominated by thunderstorms than the drizzle of winter. I look over to the lad once more, intent on staring at his soaked feet. I can see the leather half boots were, like the rest of his clothes, well-made, despite their simplicity.

‘Drop the pretense of two gentlemen discussing the finer things in life,’ I say, a bit gentler than my last outburst. ‘You need me to do something for you that inevitably involves Felix. You were never one for entertaining children, let alone adults.’

‘You are correct on both accounts,’ Karl sighed, then took a deep breath. ‘The duke is dead and this is his bastard, no point trying to hide that fact now. The duchess’s son is still too young to take on the mantle, and she will be named regent of his vast domain. At least until her son is old enough to assume the duties of his father. To prevent any minor nobles rallying behind Felix or any of the other five bastards he sired, the duchess has ordered them killed. The duke on his deathbed ordered me to protect young Felix here. Before you ask what makes Felix so special, the duke was convinced the duchess’s son is not of his seed. The only thing that makes Felix special is that out of all the bastards, his identity was hid the best as yours truly was responsible.’

‘I’ve heard the rumors,’ I say, there had always been rumors the Duchess had a wondering eye, but the duke’s eye was equally unfaithful. Felix before me was proof of that. The duke's death meant very little to me, a few years ago I would have dreamed to be the one to ram a sword through his gut. Being the victim of political machinations always meant one more powerful than you would be the target. In reality, those who wronged me and my blood had been avenged, the duke had been oblivious to my or my families plight. Just as long as someone could pay the taxes and provide fighting men; little care was given to the nature of who paid those taxes or provided those men.

‘As you can imagine, I am in a difficult position. I am still loyal to the family responsible for lifting me to my current station and by extension the crown. Still, I am compelled to do as my previous master asked, as a matter of honor.’

‘How did the duke die?’ I ask, already having a strong suspicion as to the cause. The now dead duke was never one to refrain from indulgences, be they food, drink, or the attention of a beautiful woman. As to the matter of honor, I had my suspicions as to that, but Karl could be a vicious defender of the crown but was loyal. In that sense and by his definition of honor was exemplary. Those killed tortured, or blackmailed, were merely testaments to his ‘honor.’

‘Grandgore, amongst other ailments associated with over indulgence,’ Karl took a quick drag on his pipe and blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth. ‘Regardless of cause, he is dead, and I have one final task for my previous lord to carry out. You owe me a debt, and I am here to claim it. If you do this for me, consider any debt you paid.’ One more drag of the pipe, the tobacco had the scent of been produced far to the south in much warmer climes. ‘I am asking you to take in Felix until he is old enough to join the Order of the Swallowed Sun, once joined he relinquishes all claims to the throne a minor noble could dream up and more importantly, at least from where I am sitting, my debt to the duke also paid.’ One more drag from the pipe to punctuate exactly what debt was owed and how to, best, pay it. ‘I did expect you to be happier at the duke's demise.’

‘He was not the man his father was,’ I could not help but sigh. It's true I hated the man and for a period wished only death upon him. He was merely a puppet of ambitious nobles wanting more land, income, and power. News of the duke being dead would have normally been cause for celebration. Times change. I could not say no to Karl, as much as I disliked the man, I did owe him my life, and it seems a lot more. One could even say everything I now have stems from his interference, whether I wanted it or not. Something immediate froze my heart.  ‘Does the Duchess know about Felix?’

‘To the best of my knowledge, no.’ a quick sip of the brandy and a wry smile crept across his scared face. ‘Someone spent a lot of money on this, it must have been a weighty tome, full of forbidden knowledge. Not one of those from your first consignment, by chance?’

‘No,’ a less than subtle reminder of the debt, to be twisted in my gut and force me to say yes to whatever he wants. ‘It was a gift from an eastern prince for a rare esoteric tome,’ I explain, trying my best not to lose my temper. ‘As to the forbidden nature of it, it is deemed heretical by the prevailing holy minds that sit in their opulence.’ One more sip from my glass as thoughts begin to solidify in my mind. ‘With that out the way, I need to know if the boy's life is in imminent danger, it means I’m also liable to land up with a blade throw my rib cage.’

‘As far as I can be certain, no. I was the only one in the castle that knew Felix’s mother, and she was paid well to keep your mouth shut on the topic. My network of eyes confirmed that she did very little to brag about Felix’s noble blood. If fact, she was content to keep the shameful secret to herself.’ Karl looked at the lad, for the briefest moment I saw someone else rather than the Duke’s Spymaster. Now, more a man with some capacity to feel rather than move in the shadows to execute the wishes of the powers that be. ‘His mother died a few days ago from a fever that couldn’t be cured.’

I had nothing to say to that, but understood all too well what it was like to lose your mother at such an age. All I could do was look at the child who was no longer looking at his feet but could see him staring out, trying his best to stifle back tears. I had no idea what life he had led to this point, nor what it had in store, but was certain he would struggle more than most. Taking another sip, a sense of dread slowly crept up from my stomach, souring the taste of the amber liquid instantly. I know I can’t say no to Karl, but if I take the child in, I am responsible for his well-being. I needed more details. ‘How could the duchess know of his existence?’

‘It's possible, but the late duke, your previous Lord…’

‘Lord, no longer, even when the wretch was alive…’ I interrupt, meaning ever ill word that spewed from my mouth. That wry smile spread across Karl’s face once more. I believed myself above spewing such venom. The truth was there was still anger, rage even. This night was resulting in old wounds being split open.

‘As you say, now that he is dead, I do find it easier to reflect on his faults,’ he said, looking once more at the child. ‘The duke sired Felix here while on campaign in Nordenheim, assisting a crusade against the pagans. On our return a few months later, Felix’s mother was clearly with child, and I went about determining if she was seeded by noble blood of our once lord. I was convinced it was true, and upon the child’s birth I was beyond convinced. Look at him,’ It was true, the near pitch black hair, blue eyes, and prominent nose spoke of his lineage. ‘From that point, it was only the then duke and I that knew of his existence. I went about to provide a small home for them further south where I could keep a closer eye on them and insure their needs were met adequately. I was careful to keep no records of purchases that could lead to inquiries unfavorable to them and the duke. If purchases and payments were to be recorded, they were done so with the assistance of those in my debt.’ Karl took another drag from his pipe and blew out the scent tinged smoke. ‘The small town I chose for her and Felix to start a new accepted her lie that she was a widow of a minor noble. The duchess is both intelligent and incredibly cunning, so there is always a possibility she knows, but I think it highly unlikely.’

‘I best tread carefully,’ I murmured aloud, more to myself than my uninvited guests.

‘So you’ll take him till old enough to join the order?’ Karl asked, before I could finish my thoughts. I could feel the relief in his voice. One last duty to his lord fulfilled. 

‘I will,’ I knew I would say yes as soon as I saw Karl’s battle-worn face. ‘Not that I have much choice.’ Somewhere deep down, I knew I would not say no. This did not make me feel any better about the situation. In a past life, I swung swords and axes, wielded spears and lances, in the pretense that what I was doing was noble. Now I sell books to the rich, knowing that who I had been in a past life was an ignorant child in man's frame. How was I to raise a child?

‘We always have a choice, Konrad,’ It had been sometime since I heard my birth name. ‘They might not be great choices, but we always have a choice. You likely know that more than I. I know we are not on the best of terms, that is something I can live with, but I did choose you for this task not only because you are indebted to me.’ Karl sighed, something I cannot remember witnessing in the flesh during our past interactions, ‘I feel you will do right by the boy.’

‘Let’s save the philosophy lectures and sojourns to the past for another time,’ my reply came out with more venom than intended. I never enjoyed being on the receiving end of a lecture. Even with the kindest words Karl could muster, I could not reciprocate in kind.   

‘For someone who loves the written word as much as you do, long dialogues were never your strength,’ Karl was right, chuckling to himself. I never enjoyed people’s propensity to speak merely because they could. All their mundane musings and diatribes about their day or what they ate, who they fucked, and how smart they were irritated me beyond measure. Karl finished his brandy with one swig and grinned once more at the now empty glass. He then moved to his belt. Seeing him go for the side a weapon would be instinctively made me ball my fist and tense, ready to reply with aggression to what I perceived as aggression. Rather, he pulled a purse and dropped on the spartan table with the thud that spoke of a small fortune. Karl grinned up at me. ‘Once a soldier, always a soldier,’ the man had picked up on my ready state for violence. ‘This should cover expenses for the child and more. Arrangements have been made at the temple in Rotenberg to accept him when of age. I bid you farewell. If all goes to plan, you’ll never see me again.’

‘Let’s hope so,’ I speak plainly, knowing that plans never move ahead as intended. Karl rose from the table.

‘One last thing,’ there was always one last thing with Karl. ‘Get some bolts for the door, it was far too easy picking the lock.’

I felt no need to wish him well on his journey to whatever spider web required his attention. I barely saw him leave, hoping that’s the last time I saw him. Not only that, but I did take his advice seriously. I did need some iron bolts for my doors. What peace I managed to carve out for myself had blunted my instinct for self-preservation. I look over to the child once more, uncertainty dominating my current outlook, safety is now a priority I couldn’t afford to ignore.

‘You best take off your wet clothes and take a seat.’ I try to say as kindly as I can, knowing that it sounded more like an order than an offer. ‘Hang your coat over the chair where Karl sat. Let’s get something to eat.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Felix peeped.

In my pantry, if it could be called that, a few basic supplies were kept, but it was admittedly low on food, especially for two. Bread, preserved ham, and cheese, were my staples. I tended to eat at the local Inn where soldiers and tradesman frequented. Substantially better than many establishments closer to the river. As with many Inns, even those of a slightly better calling, its patrons were rough and always ready for a fight. They also tended to be troves of information. 

Occasionally, I’d frequent the better gambling parlors further up closer to the castle keep, if sales were drying up. Even those with more gold than sense tended to keep information to themselves, inherently understanding its worth. When they spilled information, it was something to be treasured.

A loaf of brown bread was still relatively fresh, and the cheese only needed some mold removed, wax still protecting the parts it covered. These supplies, though sparse, were enough for me and would do for now. I turned to see Felix had stripped off his outer layer. Luckily, he was still relatively dry, so the need to light a fire dwindled. All I need is for the little one to get a cough and snotty. Still holding the wet clothes, a look of uncertainty marred the child’s face.

‘Hang your wet stuff over a chair or two,’ I repeated. ‘I’m not in the habit of lighting fires down here and only do so upstairs when bitterly cold. Your clothes can stay on the chair for now, and we’ll see what to do with them in the morning.’ I put my meager rations, a far better way to describe what I eat, on a tray and moved to the table. Two chairs were still vacant of bodies or clothes. ‘Take a seat and help yourself. I am Konrad, and you are?’

‘Felix Holenhoe, sir.’ Felix said with far more confidence than I expected.

‘Good to meet you, Felix Holenhoe,’ I put my hand out to shake his, but not in the conventional way of traders. Felix raised his hand to meet mine. ‘Not like that lad.’ I grab his forearm. My hand engulfing the entire region just below the elbow. Felix learned quickly and did the same. ‘This is how warriors of old greeted one another. It means we are in this together, and we will need to make the best of it, no matter how difficult.’ That was something my father taught me, how warriors greeted and what it meant. The meaning never altered despite the eons of use, there was always a duty that needed to be fulfilled and honored. Such duty always had a cost.  ‘As to what we are going to do. I have no idea. I have never raised a child and at your age I was already receiving…a more specialized education. Do you have any suggestions?’

‘No sir,’ Felix said earnestly, a trait some might find off-putting, though something I preferred when talking to another. ‘Sir, Karl said I am to do whatever you instruct for the next six years. He scares me, so I will do exactly that.’

‘He scares me too, lad.’ Whether it was Karl’s marred facial features, that scared the boy, or some sense as to what the scarred man was capable of, I could not tell. I knew enough to know what Karl was indeed capable of, and that would scare even the bravest of men. ‘Well, we best keep him happy then. Where are my manners, help yourself.’

Felix was eyeing the food with the same intent a wolf eyed a lamb. Despite the simply fair for anyone that was hungry, even bread was a feast. I was not about to get in the way of the ravenous youth and his prey. All I knew at this point was the lad had suffered a great loss and was brought here, likely at a pace that only the gods would approve of. I imagine, hunger was high on the lad’s current list of priorities. 

The boy did as I instructed and ate almost half of what was laid out. Careful not to eat more than what he determined was his share. We ate in silence. I ate little, thinking about what next needs doing. Felix, let out a sudden yawn. I could see the brave face he had put on earlier was now one tired beyond measure. ‘You can sleep in my bed upstairs for now,’ I wasn’t going to sleep tonight, that was sure. ‘We’ll arrange better accommodation for you in the morning, likely in the room I use for storage.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ he said through a yawn.

‘Off with you now. I’ll wake you in the morning.’ I could see uncertainty erode any confidence he might have had. Needing to know what caused the sudden change in humors, I followed his gaze, I saw he was looking at the darkened portal of where the stairs stopped and the abyss began. ‘Here, take a candle. No need to blow it out, let it run as long as you want.’ I could remember the night terrors I had as a child. Anything could exist in the dark, no matter how horrifying. The only limit to the horror was the imagination that filled the dark void. I still got night terrors, no longer was the imagined that frightened me. It was the darkness in man that now scares me most. 

Off young Felix went, I could almost feel the lad’s relief he would not have to go into the dark unarmed. He navigated the steps far more deftly than I would have given him credit for. Light on his feet and had good balance, traits I would have determined wasted on a lad destined to be secluded in a monastery. Just as quickly he had been my late night snack companion, he had disappeared into the maw of darkness that had caused him some anxiety. Children were meant to be out of sight and out of mind, according to some. Felix, while out of sight, was far from being out of mind.

How I was to raise the bastard son of the late duke was beyond me. A brave face I could put on, but where do I begin? My childhood was seen as preparation for a life on the front lines leading men, followed by managing the family estate. That reality was snuffed out fourteen years ago. Not wanting to remember that cataclysm, I tried to remember what I had to do daily when roughly Felix’s age. 

My father insisted I learned to read at the soonest possible time, along with being able to do some mathematics. Tutors were brought in to teach me while my father maintained the land our family were entrusted to care for. Taxes needed paying, and campaigns needed fighting, and my father had to do both. Years later, I would learn that my education beyond basic reading and counting were my mother’s dying wish. She, like Felix’s mother, died of a sudden fever, when I was five. My father did his best to honor those wishes. It meant that my life was strictly regimented between learning how to be a knight and how to fight and kill, skills many thought were the same but in reality they were quite distinct. I would also have lessons with tutors regarding art, philosophy, literature, and history. Those lessons happened only after I had done my time in sparring rings or on horseback. 

By fourteen, I was already accompanying my father on campaign as his squire. Felix, will have a less exciting life in a monastery, but will likely live longer. When not on campaign, there was the backbreaking training. Then my mind needed to be applied to whatever my tutors deemed important. The monastery will likely expect young Felix to at least be able to read and write. I can at least begin there.

Looking back on my previous life seemed to tear at badly healed scars. I could keep back the torrent of shame and pain, I had done so for years. The more I dwelled in my past, the harder it was to keep those emotions from tearing at me. I swallowed them down, as I always had

Returning to the bottle of brandy I had opened earlier, I poured another dram. I wasn’t one to overindulge but felt the need to have something in my hand. Looking at the dagger, I could not have guessed how this night would have ended up only a few hours ago. It started with the idea of someone breaking in to steal stock or valuables. It ended with me being thrust in the role of guardian for a bastard. The thought of how young Felix must be feeling about this invaded my own musings. I am not the victim of circumstance, or at least not to the degree the lad is. I still have what life I have managed to build. His life has been completely uprooted and told he must live with someone he has never met, nor would have if his father was a little less found of navigating earthly delights. 

I could do better by Felix than wallow in my own self-pity. Besides, being given a child to raise by Karl, while not what I was expecting, is probably the best outcome for both Felix and me. Knowing Karl, and having your life indebted to him, could mean I would have to act as an extension of his questionable morality in pursuit of the another’s agenda. Assassination, theft, extortion, and who knows what else were on the table. Providing a temporary home for an orphan, could be seen as getting off lightly. It also showed a side to Karl I, nor anyone who had dealings with him, could have imagined. Despite some of his sharper edges been dulled slightly, he was still a very dangerous man, but more human now compared to the bloodied blade of the powerful.

It must have been the early hours of the morning. Sleep once again had escaped me. I moved to light a fire in the barely used hearth. I hoped the chimney was not blocked, but there was really only one way to find out without getting on the roof. Likewise, I would keep the fire going until Felix woke up, we’d eat what was left of tonight's late meal, then set about planning how we were to proceed. The thought of planning out a future reminded me of listening to my father around a table planning out a campaign. Those long nights bored me, but when we were months into some conflict or another I was always grateful a plan for rations had been made even then, when arrogant lords proclaimed a quick victory was certain. Memories like those made me maudlin, fortunately the shop had enough small nagging tasks to keep me occupied. These distractions helped when what was and what could have been dragged at my soul.