The Big Difficult
Terry sat on a wooden bench outside of the office of Father Takewell after having been shown there by a young clergyman. Now he was waiting, and had been for fifteen minutes. He was very aware of his posture. His hands sat on his knees. He specifically willed his legs to not bounce up and down. He sat patiently. On the outside.
Inside, Terry was screaming. They’d been waiting for him for a week. He had no idea what this was actually about. They’d mentioned a mission and he’d honestly been too distracted by Delores to speculate much at all. Even now he thought about how dumb his timing had been. Why had he done that outside the Church? What had him so afraid right now? He looked around the hallway again. Why are there greenmen carved in churches, he thought.
A terrible thought finally struck him at that. Greenmen. What did they know? DID they know? It was never spoken of at home. Dottie and Ernest had simply told him as a child what the Church did to knights and priests that could use magic. The clerics. It had never, ever been mentioned out loud by anyone again. It had frightened him so much he’d fled into the woods and his trailer until the world called for him. This could be the end.
He heard footsteps approach from down the hall and when he looked there was a short, older, bald man with a prodigious nose and tanned skin approaching. He was wearing a priest’s vestments. He stopped directly in front of Terry and studied him for a moment before speaking.
“Mr. Lingal. You’re a very difficult man to reach.”
Terry smiled, trying to put the man at ease. Failing that, he tried to put himself at ease. He failed at that as well.
“I apologize, Father. Elton tells me I’m a Luddite, but he’s working on that. None the less, I’m here now. Are you Father Takewell?”
The man smiled. He wasn’t a handsome man, but his smile did wonders for him.
“I am, but not the one you’re looking for. I’m Father Steven Takewell. You’re here to see my brother Alex.” He held out a hand to Terry. Terry stood, took the man’s hand, and shook. Then, Terry noticed the man’s collar. Light purple. The color of a magic user. The same color purple Delores and the mages wore. The man had been a cleric. He tried to will himself to not start sweating.
“Congratulations on completing your service, Father. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” Terry said.
The man looked legitimately surprised as he took his hand back. His mouth worked for a moment.
“I-Thank you, Mr. Lingal. I’ve been free of service for two years. I believe you may be the first person to congratulate me besides my brother.”
“I’m sorry to hear that Father. I am at your service.” Terry said making a slight bow.
The man watched Terry for several moments. He looked like he was trying to puzzle Terry out. He seemed to remember why he was here suddenly.
“Thank you again, Mr. Lingal. You can be of service. To your Order. If you’ll come in, my brother wishes to meet you.” And with that, the priest opened the office door next to the bench, walked inside, and stood out of the way to give Terry room to enter.
Terry stepped inside and took a quick look around. The office was lined on the left and right walls with bookshelves nearly floor to ceiling. Books, files, and trophies lined them. Directly in front of Terry was a massive window looking out on a small courtyard with trees and bushes. In front of the window was a desk of intimidating proportions, and behind that desk stood Father Alexander Takewell.
The man was taller than his brother, and paler. They had the same wealth of nose though. Alex also had hair. Long, shining brown hair in a ponytail and a styled mustache and goatee. His clothing was cut for freedom of movement. His collar, was red. Blood Red. The Blood Collar of a knight who had completed his service and been chosen by the Cloth. Father Alexander Takewell had seen the things Terry had seen. It put him somewhat at ease.
“Mr. Lingal!” The man said, and held out his hand. “It is an absolute honor to meet you!”
“Is it?” Terry said in confusion before coming to himself. “I mean, thank you, Father Takewell.” He strode forward around a single chair and shook the Father’s hand. The man gestured for Terry to take a seat, so he did after Father Alex himself did. His brother Steven walked around the desk and stood slightly behind Father Alex’s chair with his hands behind his back. Father Alex chuckled.
“I’ve heard about your modesty, son. And I AM honored. I don’t think there’s a single member of the Order right now that has done more to single-handedly drag our reputation out of the mud and into the sun where it belongs.”
“Thank you, Father.” Terry tried not to fidget at the praise.
“I know you haven’t been in town long, how was your journey?”
“Oh!” Terry said, “Fine, sir. We were in Hattiesburg when I finally got your message. We’re working on getting me updated to, well, any technology.” He finished lamely. “I’m happy to be here though, and would love to be of service in any way I can.”
Father Alex looked at his brother who made no move, and then back to Terry.
“I’m glad to hear that son. We have a problem. Two actually, and one of them is your doing.”
Terry’s eyebrows raised and his stomach boiled. He considered leaping onto the desk and out the window if this went south.
“I’m sorry, sir. What is it I’ve done?”
Father Alex opened a folder on his desk instead of using his PC. He looked at the file inside for a moment and then glanced at Terry from under his eyebrows.
“Sir Robert Lawless.” Was all he said.
Terry felt his back sweating. What had he done wrong there? The man gauged Terry’s reaction. When he saw Terry keep his outward expression calm, he continued.
“As distasteful as the man was, he was our hatchet-man. When something needed doing, we turned to Lawless. Now, we understand, he’s been removed from the playing field because of you.”
Terry’s brows lowered and he couldn’t keep a certain coldness from his voice as he responded.
“The man was a menace, a criminal, and was directly violating his vows. He had hurt people and property. He’d set himself up as a tyrant.” He realized his head was starting to shake slightly. He was becoming very angry very quickly. “I regret nothing.”
Father Alex looked surprised. His brother’s eyes widened and he took a step back. Apparently they thought the modest, polite, young Errant was going to be a push-over when confronted with his actions. Terry would have to disabuse them of that assumption.
“Maybe so, son,” Father Alex said, “but you didn’t have the authority to do what you did. Frankly,” he held up a double sided print out so Terry could see it, “I have a long list of suggested punishments here from every senior member of the Order. They all want you dealt with for your disregard of the chain of command.” He sat the paper back down and watched Terry.
Terry stared at the man. Is that what this was? Some sort of punishment? For saving people? For doing what he knew was right? He tried to keep from ripping the arms off of his chair.
“I will not apologize for doing the right thing, sir. People were in danger. If the Order knew what he was doing, I might recommend that list of punishments be considered for those complicit.”
Terry was so angry he was afraid he was going to make a career ending mistake any second. He kept eyeing the window behind them and suddenly considered throwing both brothers through it and being done with the whole thing. Right was right. These people couldn’t dictate that.
Father Alex’s face split into a broad grin and he leaned back in his chair and looked at his brother again. Steven Takewell stayed ridid. He seemed to be sweating. Father Alex took his list of punishments, balled it up, and expertly chucked it into a garbage can somewhere behind Terry. The man pointed at him.
“And that right there is why you’re here, son.”
Terry continued gripping the arms of his chair and his face remained a mask of calm. Something must have shown in his eyes because Steven took a step forward and simply held a fist in front of himself. He looked ready to step between Terry and his brother. He was prepared to deal with Terry with magic if violence occurred. He could feel the menace radiating off of him. Terry didn’t know if he could stop the man.
“Settle down, Steve. The boy is rightfully upset.” Father Alex told his brother. He turned back to Terry.
“I’m sorry about that, son. Those suggestions are real, but I never had any intention of saddling you with those. No. I needed to test your mettle. I needed to know how far you’d go for what was right versus what you were told to do.”
Terry closed his eyes and counted to ten. He took deep breaths. He felt himself calming. He felt like he was deflating, which was good. The two brothers allowed him to take the time he needed and he appreciated that. Alex gave him a weighing look when Terry was done. Steven was staring.
“Son, I can’t tell you how many knights walk in that door and talk about their vows and oaths and truth and chivalry and then roll over the minute they’re challenged. I needed to know you’d be the one. Rome thinks so, but I needed to see for myself. I have my own criteria.”
Terry’s eyebrow raised.
“Rome, sir?”
“Yes, Terry. Rome. With Lawless, thankfully, gone there’s a mission of the utmost importance. They asked for you.”
Terry sat stunned. He wasn’t aware he was even on anyone’s radar IN Rome. Instead of being exciting, the idea sent a shiver down his spine. How much did THEY know about him?
“Now, before I can even discuss this with you, I need an oath from you.” Father Alex said. “I need you to swear that you won’t tell anyone about this until after it’s over and done with. No one. Not your partner, not your Troubadour, not your family. Can you do that?”
Terry placed his right hand over his heart and looked straight into Father Alex’s eyes.
“I Terrance Lingal, swear to reveal to no one what you are about to reveal to me save to those you name as trustworthy, until I am released from this oath, or my vows are forsaken.” He lowered his hand and wondered, Why did I add that last part? Why did I add conditions? Why do I still feel threatened?
Father Alex gave his head a slight shake.
“Damn, son. That was faster than I expected. Thank you.”
Terry nodded. Father Alex continued.
“This mission is extremely important, like I said, but it’s not typical in any sense of the word. I’ll just come out and say it. Rome wants you to kill the Greenman.”
Terry sat there, mouth agape. No one spoke.
“Sir,” Terry finally said, “isn’t that like being sent to assassinate Santa Claus?” They looked at him. “Before we assassinated Santa Claus?”
Father Alex chuckled.
“Actually, I remember before that, so yes. Yes it is. It’s also just as possible and just as necessary. There’s talk. There are theories that humanity here in the wide world has displeased the Greenman. Sitting outside of our consensus reality means he could unmake this plane of existence and start over. Maybe we’d be there in this new world. Maybe not. It’s not worth finding out.”
Terry felt like he was being slapped repeatedly. He hazarded a question.
“Won’t that effect magic?” Father Alex nodded.
“Yes. It’ll close off the Everywhen from us. Mana will stop pouring through every gate and fissure we know of. Most magic dependent Fantastics would die off pretty quickly and the ones that remain could be either wiped out or their populations could be controlled.”
Terry felt sick. Images of Runt and his brood ran through his head. Gunt and Dwumbra, the dwarves. The Garbage Gnomes. All of the Fantastics he’d known and met would be affected in some way. Delores’s life would pretty much be over. HIS life would be over. A world without magic seemed completely wrong to him.
“Won’t that put the Order out of business, sir?” Terry asked quietly.
“That’s kind of the point. We’re here to protect the public from magic threats and creatures. This would be the ultimate act of protection. We save reality, we cut off the major source of danger we keep an eye on, everyone wins. We make the ultimate sacrifice. It’s what we do.”
Terry had a little voice inside him. It was the little voice everyone has. It told him things like “help the goblins”, or “beat the tar out of that knight”, or “save that mimic, trust me bro”. That voice was screaming at him so loudly to get up and walk out, he thought he was going to start shaking.
“I know it’s a distasteful act for someone like you.” Father Alex said. “It’s the hard part of the job that no one wants to talk about. But this would have gone to Lawless. Who would you rather this job fall to, son?”
Terry thought very hard and very fast before speaking.
“I don’t think I can accept this mission, sir. I’ll continue to keep it a secret but I can’t do this one.”
Father Alex nodded and pulled a piece of paper out of the file on his desk.
“That’s fine, Terry. I understand. But this is a mission from Rome itself. My boss’s boss. If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to. I’ll just need you to renounce your vows and leave the Order before you walk out that door.”
Terry’s eyes went wide and a pit opened in his stomach that he thought his soul would fall into.
“You. . . You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious.” The man said.
Terry looked at his hands. He didn’t realize he had lifted them up in front of him. He stared at his callused hands of a swordsman. The only thing he’d ever used them for was the sword. He flexed his fingers. Could I walk away from everything? Even if this mission ENDS everything I’ve worked toward? How is this fair?
He looked at Father Alex, suddenly feeling lost.
“This is all I know.” He said quietly.
“I’m aware, Terry. I read your file. Six is awfully young to start doing this. Frankly, you shouldn’t have been allowed to. I’m sure if you left there’d be a place for you in the military. Or maybe as a mercenary. It’s not honorable work after what you’ve been doing, but I think it’d be your only options.”
Terry’s hands dropped back into his lap.
“What would you do, Father? Truthfully?”
Father Alex ran a hand over his face before answering.
“Honesty is important to you. I respect that. If old Father Odom had called me in here at your age and asked me to do something like this I would have renounced my oaths on the spot, given him the finger, and walked out into a promising career in the food service industry.”
His face remain serious.
“If he had asked me to do it ten years later, I would have done it, no questions asked.”
Terry found himself staring at the Blood Collar. The man had seen what Terry had seen. He’d seen more. He’d done more. He’d done worse.
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Terry said.
“Not a good one.” Father Alex replied. “I said I wasn’t going to punish you for Lawless, but I guess this kind of IS the punishment. You’re going to have to do the job he would have. And if you don’t do it? They’ll find someone else to do it. Someone who probably had no business doing so.”
“When does it need to be done?” Terry said, feeling miserable. He slumped back into the chair.
“That’s the good news.” Father Alex said. “No one knows where the Greenman is or how to find him. You’re going to have to do that on your own. You have time. The mana flux periods are the most dangerous. Look for places where monsters are coming in out of season. Maybe they can lead you to him. Maybe you can question them if they’re not mobs. Look for portals.”
“Well, at least there’s that.” Terry said.
“Son,” Father Alex said, “before you go, I need to tell you something.”
Terry looked up from his knees. He hadn’t realized he was staring at them. He was in a daze.
“Sir?”
“I’m glad I got to meet you. I feel like you ARE the one for this job. I think that when you find the Greenman you’ll know what to do better than anyone. Because you’re going to do what’s right. You understand?” The look he gave Terry was loaded. “You, out of all of us, will do what is RIGHT.”
“May I go, Father?”
Alex Takewell sighed.
“Yes, my son. You may go. Go with God and be safe.”
Terry stood, bowed, and walked out of the office feeling like someone had stabbed him in the stomach.
Alex Takewell watched the young Errant walk out of his office looking like he was in the woods and had lost his compass. He couldn’t like what he’d just done.
“Well,” Steve said, “that was certainly distasteful.”
Alex turned his chair and faced his brother.
“I swore he was going to throw the both of us through this window. TWICE. AND I don’t think you could have stopped him, Steve.”
Steve looked very thoughtful.
“You may be more right than you know.” He said.
Alex watched his brother. He knew what he meant. Alex would sit on this information. Alex thought he’d let them pull him down before letting them take Lingal to the clerics. Especially after Steven. He put his head back on the head rest of his chair and leaned back.
“Rome is making a major mistake with this, Steve. I don’t mind telling you.”
“Agreed.” His brother said.
Alex stared at him and tried not to grow angry. Before becoming a cleric, Steve had been the older, wilder one between the two of them. They’d both joined the Order and ridden for a time with McAlpine. But Alex didn’t have a best friend. He’d had Steven. They’d taken his older brother when he’s used magic too openly, though. They hadn’t had a mage to pin it on. They’d taken Steven, destroyed his soul, put it back together again, and what was left wasn’t his older brother any more. He was human. He had free will. He just wasn’t Steven now.
Now he kept this remnant of his brother near him at all times, hoping to bring back part of the person he’d known. He wanted his brother back, damn it. He wanted someone in the Order to pay. Every single day he wanted to rage at the people who’d “gifted” him this job, or break down crying. He’d apologized to their mother’s grave more times than he could count for insisting they join. There was no salvation. Not for Alex Takewell. He was pulled from his thoughts when Steve spoke again.
“Do you think young Mr. Lingal picked up on your implications at the end?”
Alex shrugged.
“I dunno. He was pretty shook. I hope so. If he didn’t, he’s probably the one person that could complete this crazy idea of Jack’s and pull it off. And I trust Jack in the Leaves intentions and motives as far as I can spit a nutria.”
When Terry stepped out of the door of St. Patrick’s, everything had changed. Or nothing had, but everything inside him had. Life and color had drained from everything. It was a world wrapped in gray. The people he saw outside were hollow shapes. The buildings were an affront to nature. The bright sun in the blue sky was a lie. The bird song was a shrill screech. He was standing in a man-made pit to hold soulless monsters parading around as humans. He was one of them.
Terry suddenly wanted to dig a hole and bury himself until the world made sense again. Or not. Maybe he’d stay in the hole. It seemed preferable to this. He walked out onto the sidewalk and looked around with his hands in his coat pockets. Something he hadn’t noticed before was the looks the locals gave him. It was disgust. They gave him a wide berth. He had his own bubble of privacy. No one wanted to even look at a knight. His tabard was like a warning of the plague. He looked at the building beside the church and stopped. This building, he knew, was a rest building for knights. Spray painted on the side was graffiti.
WHO WATCHES THE WATCHMEN
Terry felt sick. He didn’t know if it was because of the hatred for knights suddenly visible to him, or the fact that they might actually deserve it. He walked by with no particular idea of where he was going. He didn’t actually care right then. He wasn’t sure if he could feel much of anything any more. Something inside him had broken. Whatever it had been was load-bearing and something further had collapsed. He didn’t know if it could be fixed now. Life had suddenly become a long dark walk at night and the only end was his eventual grave.
He was starting to question that journey. His father’s thoughts and actions suddenly made sense to him. Terry wandered the city, lost.