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A.R.Yngve

DARC AGES Book Three
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Chapter 10


The morning after the broadcast, Awonso was attending church Mass -- half asleep as usual -- when a female novice stuck a note into his psalm-book. He hid the note and read it afterward. It asked -- or required, the interpretation depending on one's loyalty to the church -- him to meet high-priestess Inu in the evening. Alone. His first reaction was that someone was playing a joke on him. Rumor had it, only a select minority of influential -- or exceptionally handsome – male citizens received such calls. Why him? He was a clumsy, awkward youngster with acne, and knew it perfectly well. As he read the note over and over, the round-faced Awonso's hands began to sweat, and his mouth felt dry. The evening was all too far off yet.



Reluctantly, Awonso entered the cathedral, and was led into the inner sanctum by two beautiful novices. Finding himself in a smaller lit chamber, he gasped as the novices shut and locked the door behind him. And before him stood Inu.

The high-priestess was every bit as enchanting as Awonso imagined her, only more so this evening. The young scholar-to-be had washed himself thoroughly and put on his finest set of clothes, all the time fearing that this would reveal his visit to the eyes of the public. He had imagined a thousand eyes following him there; now, alone in Inu's candle-lit study, Awonso's mind went blank. Inu smiled to calm him down -- or was it to enchant him even further? The Goddess Incarnate could be fickle as well as generous.

"I bless you for coming here," she said, then added: "You may kiss my cloth."

Awonso kneeled and kissed the hem of her skirt, blushing deeply. Like a bumbling fool, he had forgotten the proper procedure. Inu made a small gesture at the adolescent to rise up and sit down. He was all too quick to obey.

"I have called you here, Awonso, because I am concerned for the safety of your soul. And other souls. You are a friend of Darc, aren't you?"

Was that an accusation or a compliment in her neutral, throaty voice? Awonso stared at the high-priestess and hesitated, his mouth half-open.

"I... I don't know if I have the right to call myself his friend, Your Holiness... b-but I have certainly spent a long time with him in the castle library, when he learned our language... he told us a great deal of his time and origins."

Inu nodded approvingly; she leaned forward ever so slightly, so that her voluptuous curves stood out in relief against her fine black robes.

"Confess to me, Awonso. What is your opinion of Darc?"

Was that all it was about -- an ordinary confession? Awonso's tension receded somewhat; that kind of question he could answer.

"Darc is... an amazing man, Your Holiness, a miracle worker -- forgive me for using that word, but it's the only appropriate term..."
"Yes..."

"He truly is a time traveler as they say, from the Golden Age. Some things we know are unknown to him, because they happened before his time. But other things he knows better than any other man. And then there's his music..."

He ceased talking, when Inu stood up and walked across the small study to the gold-specked altar. She lit a few painted candlesticks, and a heavy scent filled the room. The high-priestess moved behind Awonso's seat; he swallowed, and waited. The incense made his head feel fuzzy and light; despite his nervousness, Awonso gradually felt more talkative. Inu knew this perfectly well.

"The music, yes," she half-whispered behind his back, "that is what you must confess to me about. Tell me about the secret radio wave transmissions that people are listening to at night."

Awonso twitched in his seat, afraid to turn around and let Inu see his guilty face. He was forced to answer truthfully, though -- this was a confession in church, and the Goddess was listening through the high-priestess. Lying guaranteed damnation.

"I... I have sinned, Your Holiness. I have listened to the radio transmissions in secret. Forgive me!" he cried out.

Awonso gasped at a sudden prickling sensation. It was Inu, touching his shoulder with her warm, soft palms -- holding them there, letting them radiate heat through his body. A large bead of sweat trickled down his cheek and landed on Inu's right hand.

"You are forgiven," she whispered. "It may be against the will of the city lord, but he cannot command Monro Our Goddess. On the contrary... she wishes to spread the word of the Singing King. There is one thing, Awonso, that I must ask of you." So close her mouth was now, so close to his ear. Awonso could sense her radiant presence -- or maybe it was just her breath on his neck. He dared neither move nor speak, but wished she would never stop. "Get me one," she hissed. "Get me one of those radio machines, so that I can hear him. No one must know. No one but you and me."

At that moment, Awonso would have agreed on any wish from her. But from somewhere, he got the courage to utter an objection.

"Bring a machine in here? Into the sacred cathedral, against the law? I'll take a great risk --"

Inu's arms enfolded Awonso; his eyesight drowned in her golden tresses.

She whispered, and her lips brushed against his earlobe: "You will be greatly rewarded."



Hours later, a very drowsy Awonso sneaked back into his family house. His mother was waiting behind the door, a candle-lamp in one hand and a big stick in the other. Awonso's father was not around.

"Well?" she sternly asked him. "Where have you been all night? And if you lie to me, boy, you will sorely regret it --"

"Shut up!" he snapped, slurring a little. The harsh woman stared at her young son, stunned by his sudden new courage. "I cannot under any circumstances tell you where I've been, and you must tell no one I was away. Swear! Tell no one! The peace of the city depends on our silence."

"But..."

"Swear it!" She gave him a promise; Awonso sighed in relief and stumbled to his bed alcove. He sent a silent prayer of gratitude to the higher power that had helped him earn his manhood. "Bless the power of Rokenrol," he mumbled and fell asleep.