Snippet #2817177

6565D1

Benedicto was in his element. The atmosphere in the church was to his liking. It was mostly lit by candlelight. The only outside light coming in was through the stained glass windows high on the wall of the church. It depicted scenes from Ivelda’s rise to power, the scenes Benedicto had learned of, hardly a representation of what really happened.
The air inside was stale and represented the same smell as a cave. The dust was coated thick on the simple furniture inside the building. It was clear the building was hardly used. Certainly the day of worship was not celebrated as it should be. Benedicto had not said anything since he was inside the church. He had merely walked around the building, judging silently, while the preacher was almost constantly on his heels. He dragged his finger on the benches, silently looking at the dust he got even from the front bench.
Although the candles were burning, the chandelier was not, giving away that it had been done in haste. A clear panic move as soon as he had rode into town. Even a one day heads up would have made a huge difference.

The less Benedicto said, the more came out of the mouth of Preacher Antonio. It had started out as apologies, basically mentioning anything and everything the young man put his eyes on. After the apologies were done, the older man started his complaints, and not soon after came the accusations towards the other people in Grainburough. Although not responding with more than a soft mumble, Benedicto heard everything the man was saying.
”It’s the village elder, he is the reason no one sets foot in here. He cares nothing for his people, but only for the money he is making of the fields…. It’s not me, really, he doesn’t even let me do my work. And..and his son is turning out to be the same…, they don’t even thank Her Grace for the good life they have.”

The doors of the church flew open and with it sunlight lit up the space. The small gust of wind it caused saw the dust filling the air, Benedicto just being able to suppress the cough that was tickling his throat. In a hurried fashion a long table was being carried in by a number of slaves, clearly recognisable by the chains around their necks. With its entry, it was immediately the cleanest thing in the small church. Right after several dishes, pots, pans and pitchers were being brought in and placed on the table.
The smell was a welcome difference, but even though it smelled better, he could tell the food wasn’t much to write home about.

A small number of seats were being dragged in as well, all of them wide and cushioned. They were of good quality and clearly expensive. Probably dragged in from the village elder’s residence in order to impress Benedicto. Benedicto spoke to one of the monks. ”Get the village elder in here.” The monk made his way out hurriedly, when Benedicto remembered what the preacher had said. ”Actually… get his son too, there is enough food for all of us.”
While waiting Benedicto looked over the food and drinks and poured himself a goblet of wine. Instead of sitting down, he kept standing and now walked around, sipping from the wine.

Not much later the two man appeared inside the church. ”Take a seat gentlemen, please make sure to dish yourself some food, it’s not here to go to waste….” Clearly uncomfortable both of them sat down on the other side of the table as the Preacher. They started dishing up, while Benedicto was bale to observe them. The father was visibly nervous, probably having a better idea of the reputation of the young man observing him. The young man did not look particularly smart, his parentage the only way to a position of power. He was dishing like his life depended on it, a greedy look in his eyes. Both men looked physically fit, muscular men not scared of helping out in the fields.

They seemed to be honest men, at least as far as Benedicto could recognise. His mood had gone from amused by the prospect to make these people suffer, to annoyed at how these hard working honest men had a total disregard for Ivelda. He got worked up and every movement of the other men in the church annoyed him more and more. ”Don’t let the food go to waste, like you have done with this church.” The last words had come out like a whisper and with clear contempt.
Benedicto laid it on so heavy, the older two man stopped moving. The son had not caught on and continued stuffing his mouth with the stew he had dished himself.
”The Preacher here tells me, that you are stopping people from worshipping Ivelda like she is supposed to be worshipped.”
The temperature in the church seemed to go a few degrees colder as the man prepared to answer for his mistakes.

In a surprise move it wasn’t the father that started talking, but the son. ”Father always says that building the church had cost us enough profits that it guarantees enough of Ivelda’s blessings to last us well into my sons time as village elder.” It was hard to watch the confession as food kept flying from his mouth. His father’s jaw had just dropped at this stupid confession. The answer had been the most honest words Benedicto had heard so far.
Anger replaced annoyance and as he stood behind the table his appearance seemed to grow even taller, towering over the three man sitting at the table. His nostrils were flaring as he was inches away from an outburst. He let the words from the young man once again sink into him and replied in a way the older man had not expected.
”So you say you have a son…”
The man nodded, not looking up from his food, the other two men still sitting silently, scared to move. ”So you must be married then.”
The young man nodded again, not seeing the trap he was falling in. ”But your wedding ceremony was not fulfilled in church?”
Finally swallowing the last bits of his food, the man was leaning back against the cushioned backrest. ”No, not in church, father insisted we got married in the fields as per the old traditions. It was a lovely day, sunny too!” The man smiled from ear to ear, clearly still remembering the ‘best day of his life’.

The room fell silent, just small sighs filling the air. As the son was finally done with his food, he could see the wide open eyes of his father. The eyes that told him to shut his mouth for the last 10 minutes now. Finally, he got the clue and stopped speaking all together. Benedicto’s mind was thinking rapidly, going through all the options laid down in front of him. The confession he just received would normally only be dragged from a suspect after days of torture.
The silence dragged on, and Benedicto could feel the eyes of all others were avoiding his.

Abruptly, there was banging on the door. Especially the Preacher jumped 2 metres in the air upon this unexpected sound. The door opened and one of Benedicto’s monks put his head inside. ”Sir, your carriage has been fixed. It is here in the village, stocked to leave again upon your say so, Sir.”
The tall young man urged the monk to wait outside. ”Well…., it seems our precious time together has been cut short…, shame. Please all join me to the village square.”

Knowing they would follow, he put a heavy step towards the door. As he opened them, he welcomed the clean air outside as the sunlight pierced his eyes. He kept a steady pass towards the square, where people seemed to have gathered to see him off. He noticed how a young, pretty woman was carrying a young baby in her arms. He saw how pale she looked, and how she tried to get a glimpse of her husband behind the young tall preacher walking in the way.

He cleared his throat, while turning his body around to address the crowd. Any sound coming from them before seemed to disappear within seconds. ”Dear people of Grainburough, it seems our time together has been cut short already. For that I wish to apologise. Your work for this great continent and for the great Ivelda has been immense and worthy of such fine people.” He enjoyed their attention, the way they hang on his lips, waiting for every word.
”I also want to apologise for what has been done to you here. If only you were allowed to worship the great Ivelda as it is intended, her blessing upon you could have been that much greater. Instead, you have the rotten luck to live under the tyranny of a cruel and Godless man. He could not even stop his own quest for self-importance, so that his sons marriage could have been a blessed one.”
Benedicto could see the colourless tears streaming down the face of the village elder, almost as if an admission of guilt. They streamed into his beard as his nose started to water.
”It is my task to weed out the evil from this village. It must have been the will of Ivelda herself that my carriage broke down so close to your homes. She has been able to see the injustice that was thrown upon you, the evilness with which you have filled your homes. The lack of prayers causing you to live in sin, like you have. But… it is in Ivelda’s nature to forgive. It is upon her Grace that we are all forgiven, upon her Grace for us to live on, without sin, but with the sound believe that we can improve ourselves in front of her.
Ivelda will rid you of the disease that has been plaguing your lives. I, her most loyal disciple, will take your village elder to her, so she will be able to make her own judgement upon this vile man.” The people reacted, a soft noise from each one, culminating in one short uproar. As soon as the sound began, Benedicto’s monks came to action and punched some of the attendees to their knees. The sound was quickly muffled.
”Pray for Ivelda’s wisdom. Pray for your village elder as he should have prayed for you. I can only thank Preacher Antonio for the leading task that is now thrown upon him. My hearty well-wishes, my brother. May this town prosper under your guidance. I am sure that together with the village elder’s son you will be able to turn things around. I only wish that I would be in attendance when the wedding ceremony begins.”
The crowd looked confused, thinking of the festivities they had only a few months earlier. ”As your father has misguided you, your wedding has never received the blessing it should. As I mentioned, Ivelda’s forgiveness knows no equal, and she will accept a new ceremony, properly celebrated.
All of our hearts are touched by the love we can see on your faces…..” Benedicto turned to the mother with the baby.
”It is so sad that this child will never know the benefits of a blessed parentage. It will forever be a bastard in the eyes of the Almighty Ivelda. It is not a way for a young and vivacious couple you are to start your life together. I will accept the care of your son, albeit with a heavy heart. I will see to it, that it will repend for the sins of the father. I will see that his life is a life full of sacrifices to Ivelda, for him to be trained as a man of the cloth. ”
The young mother sank to her knees. Silent at first, but screeching as soon as her knees hit the ground. Benedicto snapped his fingers, pointing at the older man and the baby. His monks jumped into action, the first binding the older mans hands behind his back, while the second grabbed the baby away from the mother. Some villagers were about to rise up, but before they could do anything, the rest of Benedicto’s bodyguard was standing in between.
Not willing to stay behind for the show, he put himself back in the saddle, instead of stepping into the carriage. It was a good thing he was able to help out today. He would thank Ivelda in prayer later that evening for guiding his way so clearly.

Looking back after a few miles, he could see one horse with an old blind folded and bound man, and another with a monk carrying a baby. Looking forward again, he smiled. The young boy would make a fine monk in a few years. Seeing the size of his father, the little boy might be able to join his bodyguard and serve Ivelda in that way.
He spurred his horse forward and increased the speed of the small caravan of people, back to her Grace, back to Ivelda.