the road to the wicked city - 31. the friar's tale

by jeremy witherington

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in due course the illustrious soothsayer and astrologer friar ham arrived at the port of the duchy of f———, and was welcomed by alphonso. alphonso’s residence could not boast the ancient history of the castles of the noble families of f———. nor did it contain the famous works of art that adorned their walls and chambers, but what it lacked in these regards, it more than made up for, in the worthy friar’s estimation, by its abundant supply of food and drink. if truth be told, the friar had made a few enemies at the court of st peter - as who could not, who resided there any length of time? he was happy to accept alphonso’s hospitality, and was resolved to enjoy it to the fullest, and for as long as possible. the least he could do to repay alphonso’s hospitality was to enliven the evening with a story, after the magnificent feast he had been treated to, on the evening of his arrival. this is the tale that he told: once upon a time there were two friars, separately wandering the roads in a time of turmoil. and when, we might ask, is it not a time of turmoil? the two friars were named friar jack and friar john, and they took markedly different approaches to their vocations. friar jack was a merry fellow, fond of a jest and a hoist of ale, and ready to forgive any sinner for any sin, especially sinners who were prepared to show their appreciation for his priestly ministrations. friar jack belonged to that class of philosopher who felt that what the world needed was more love, and he specialized in consoling widows - of which there were many in the unhappy war torn land - and young wives burdened with elderly and infirm husbands. friar john was a very different sort, given to fasting and the mortification of the flesh, who walked the land as a gaunt specter, and who felt that this world was cursed, especially by demons and witches, the evidence of whose depredations he saw everywhere. the paths of the two friars occasionally crossed, but they had little to say to each other, and kept their distance from each other. one day, as the afternoon was drawing to a close over the ravaged countryside, and the sun was beginning its downward journey, friar jack , who had not enjoyed what he regarded as a sufficient meal for several days, was passing an abandoned field when he heard a cry which he at first thought was that of a cat, then of a pair of cats fighting, but then thought might be a child. he looked across the field and beheld a rude hut, so low and hidden by brambles that he might have missed it and passed it by, had it not been for the cry. perhaps it is a young widow burdened by a child or children, he thought. it is worth looking into, especially with dusk approaching. friar jack crossed the field and approached the hut, which he found unencumbered by a door. he cautiously put his head into the open entrance and looked into the dark windowless interior. and beheld a woman and a child, the woman sitting on a bed of straw, and the child reclining on a slightly more heaped up pile of straw. the woman was no young widow, or young anything, but a crone as bent as a tree blasted by lightning, and old enough to be the nurse of nebuchadnezzar. and the child! friar jack had seen some hideous children in his time, both in and out of the care of holy mother church, but nothing half so horrid as this! and as if sensing the worthy friar’s revulsion, the infant - for though it had the size of a child of two or three years, it seemed in its proportions and the disposition of its limbs to be a newborn - let out a cry that rent the very heavens through the roof of the hut. “good evening, mother,” jack addressed the beldame with as much grace as he could muster, “i hope i am not intruding. i venture to hope, rather, that i, and holy church as it may be represented by my humble self , might be of some assistance to you.” jack looked down at the squalling red faced babe. “is the child suffering from distemper?” “i am suffering from distemper,” the worthy woman replied. “the distemper of being hounded by you miserable jackals of priests and friars. i have only just sent one packing with a whack on his bony ear, must i do the same for you, eh?’ “i come in peace, mother,” jack persisted. “and mean no harm to man nor beast, mother nor child. “ “then get you gone and make your peace with the dust on the highway.” “if you insist.” jack began to back away, not too disappointed to be rid of the unhappy scene, and feeling he had not been remiss in attempting to do his priestly duty, when the crone cried - “ah, here is your confederate returned!” “my confederate?” a shadow fell across friar jack. he turned and beheld the grim figure of friar john bearing down on him. friar john was accompanied by a grinning yokel of a soldier with a pike slung on his back. “yes, i have returned, you cursed witch,” friar john cried. “i have indeed returned - with fire and sword!” 32. the stranger's tale - continued

the road to the wicked city - 30. the monster's tale

by jeremy witherington

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i will tell you the story of the picture, when we have made ourselves comfortable before the fireplace… alphonso, a wealthy merchant of the dukedom of f————, had grown so prosperous that he raised a private army of soldiers and pikemen to guard his ships, his warehouses, and his estates. he now had a larger standing force at his command than duke rodrigo. duke rodrigo was also heavily in debt to alphonso, to the extent that alphonso could fairly be said to own him. alphonso, in time-honored fashion, sought to assure and complete his position in the dukedom by marrying rodrigo’s daughter. but rodrigo, who had brought himself to what he regarded as this sorry pass by a lifetime of debauchery and heedlessness, would not give in so easily to the inevitable. rodrigo’s daughter, adeline, was a genuine beauty, and he had hoped to marry her to some duke or count of a wealthier and more ancient house than his own - perhaps even to a prince of the empire! and now, here he was, asked to consider marrying her to a man who in his time had loaded his own ships and wagons with his own calloused hands! alphonso and duke rodrigo sat down to a meeting in the center of the town square, in the shadow of the cathedral, each accompanied by a band of his own cutthroats. alphonso had brought with him to help him plead his case, the celebrated cardinal p—————, a subtle rascal who had the ear of the pope, and was reputed to be in line for the chair of st peter himself. rodrigo had not thought to bring even his own chaplain , and considered alphonso’s recruitment of the eminent churchman as simply one more instance of his bumptious effrontery. he felt more resolute than ever in his determination to defy him. “my dear duke,” the cardinal began, after the preliminaries and courtesies had been dispensed with, "you of all men are a man of the world, and must know that situations of this sort, in which new wealth is united to ancient honor, is nature’s way, no less than that birds nest in trees, or waves follow the wind.” “that is all very well, your eminence,” rodrigo replied, “but i had thought to marry my daughter to someone like the archduke francisco.” “the archduke francisco! the brother of the emperor! are you in earnest?’ “i am indeed.” “and has the archduke francisco made the acquaintance of your daughter?” asked the astonished cardinal. “not yet. but when he does i am sure he will be so smitten by her unearthly beauty that the match can be considered already made in heaven.” “far be it from me, my dear duke, to dispute the enthusiasm of a fond parent, but perhaps some sign other than one anticipated, however confidently, from heaven might be felt necessary as a basis for serious negotiation.” “there is another factor,” replied duke rodrigo, “ which we have not considered. another actor in the drama,” “and who might that be?” asked the cardinal. “kobra. the bandit chieftain kobra , who even now threatens the safety of the entire peninsula, if not the empire itself.” “kobra! a mere outlaw and peasant, fated to look down on the city from a spike on a wall, with empty eye sockets. we have had peasant uprisings before , and will have them again. they pass like storms.” the cardinal asserted with a wave of his hand.. “nevertheless, with all due respect, i would prefer the security provided by an alliance with the emperor to that provided by the holy father, let alone one provided by a merchant.” stung by this response, alphonso, who had hitherto been silent, blurted out, “perhaps you could find security against the dread kobra by offering him your daughter’s hand.” duke rodrigo shrugged. “an alliance with a bandit. would it be so different from one with a stevedore?” alphonso flushed at the insult, but the cardinal, feeling that the discussion was getting out of his control, held up his hand to silence him. the cardinal’s secretary, a sly little rosy cheeked cleric with gently fluttering eyelids, now spoke. “since heaven has been invoked in this discussion, why not seek guidance from an accredited observer of heaven?” the cardinal smiled. “explain yourself, my son.” “we current;y have at residence in rome the famous friar ham, the english astrologer and soothsayer, whose skill at reading the heavens has elicited the approbation and even admiration of his holiness himself.” the cardinal nodded. “quite so. perhaps, duke, you would be pleased to seek the opinion of the worthy friar?.” he looked at the duke and then at alphonso. “of course someone would have to arrange and pay for his passage here.” “i will happily undertake to do so,” replied alphonso. “that is all very well,” said the duke. “but i would then arrange to have my own mage imported, that we might have two opinions rather than just one.” “and who might that be?” asked the cardinal. “none other than doctor lee, the celebrated magician and astrologer from the celestial empire, whose prophecies and powers have so astonished the courts of the saracen, and of the doge of venice.” and so it was arranged that the two astrologers should be summoned. the cardinal and his entourage returned to rome, and alphonso and duke rodrigo - and the fair adeline - awaited the arrival of the two savants. 31. the friar's tale

suburbs of the wicked city

wicked city

the road to the wicked city - 29. ancestors

by jeremy witherington

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the monster looked out the window of his castle at the threatening sky. perhaps , he thought. some weary travelers will seek shelter from the storm, and i will thereby have someone to talk to, and even listen to one of my stories. and as he looked, a flash of lightning lit up the sky, and he saw two figures coming up the road. they were betty and buddy. the monster thought they looked familiar, as if he had known them in some previous life. he hoped they would knock on the door of the castle. as his last servant had left him just a few days ago, he went down the long staircases to the ground floor, so that he could open the door himself if they knocked. when he reached the door and looked through the peephole, he saw that the boy and girl had come within a couple of hundred feet of the castle and were standing in the road arguing, and looking up at the sky. he assumed they were arguing about whether to approach the castle, but who was taking which side of the argument he had no way of telling. the girl seemed to be doing most of the talking and winning the argument, as the boy was slowly nodding his head to her torrent of words. just then, another flash of lightning lit up the sky, accompanied by a tremendous blast of thunder, and the skies opened up and began pouring down dark rain. abandoning the argument, the boy raced toward the castle door, and after a moment’s hesitation, the girl followed. the monster happily flung the door open , and buddy stumbled in past him, followed by a gust of rain and betty. “welcome to these humble lodgings,” the monster smiled with the best grace he could. he looked around at the dark cavernous hall of the castle’s ground floor, unlit by fire and barren of ornament. “i realize the furnishings leave something to be desired, but if you care to follow me, i will do my best to build a fire.” betty looked suspiciously up at the monster’s bent hulking frame. “you must be the butler. where is your master? take us to him.” “i beg your pardon, miss, but i am the master, and at present i am my own servant, as i have no other.” “i see. so you make your own fire, and answer your own door. are you then your own cook?” “at least for the moment, miss. are you looking for a situation?” “um - no, thank you. we are just poor travelers, seeking shelter from the proverbial storm.” “i thought as much. follow me, please, and i will do my best to provide the hospitality that custom dictates.” betty and buddy followed the monster across the bare hall and down a long passageway lit by a few smoky torches. the passageway was lined with pictures. there were a few portraits, of ferocious and stern looking individuals, but most of the pictures portrayed stirring and dramatic and grisly scenes, under stormy skies and on windswept shores and battlefields. “are these all your ancestors?” buddy asked the monster as he led them down the passage. “indeed they are, young man.” buddy stopped in front of a particularly large and detailed portrait, one which was located at some distance from the nearest torch, so that its particulars were somewhat obscured in the gloom of the passage. “including this one?” buddy asked. betty exhibited some impatience at buddy’s curiosity but the monster seemed in no way put out, and looked back curiously at the picture buddy was enquiring about. the picture portrayed a very busy scene on a beach, with a stormy sea and sky in the left background. along the beach were evidences of a shipwreck, but this was not the most striking feature. in the right background was a gallows, from which hung some dozen unfortunates. the gallows was guarded by a line of soldiers in dark blue uniforms with muskets at the ready, and the tallest and straightest of the soldiers was being addressed in a wide eyed imploring manner by a young woman with a partially bared breast and wearing a red gown which was the only spot of bright color in the composition. “and which of the actors in this drama is your ancestor?” buddy asked the monster with a smile. ”the young woman in the red dress? one of the soldiers? one of the gallows birds?” betty rolled her eyes at buddy’s impertinent questions, but the monster replied with a smile of his own, “they all are, young sir. after all, we are all one, and everybody is everybody else’s ancestor.” “yes of course,” buddy nodded. “if you like, i will tell you the story of the picture, when we have made ourselves comfortable before the fireplace. would that suit you?” “yes, it would, “ betty answered for buddy. 30. the monster's tale

the road to the wicked city - 28. betty and buddy in the castle of the monster

by jeremy witherington

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betty: we have no money in our pockets and our skulls are empty sockets as down the endless road we wander our sad fates we ever ponder buddy: but, betty, though the road be dark our carcasses we still must park somewhere in a castle or cave from the ravenous mouths of night to be saved betty whacks buddy , he sprawls and quickly jumps up betty: keep your eyes open, you boob you pitiful hay-chewing rube i hear there’s a castle in these parts where they practice the dark arts the monster who owns the establishment keeps watch upon the battlement and welcomes with open arms those who flee nature’s harsh charms buddy: but would not we be better off though winter winds make us hack and cough than delivering ourselves to the tender attentions of those who practice what is too horrible to mention betty whacks buddy again, he sprawls and jumps up betty; such considerations might fit those of your limited wit but just stick with me and i will handle the monster, you will see but hark! i hear the monster now or his footsteps anyhow see his red eyes pierce the gloom! he will be upon us soon leander, who had been playing buddy, takes the part of the monster monster: ha ha ha! just as i thought here are some humans for my pot some tasty bones to boil until dawn and some guts to feast upon first dragoon: this is dreary stuff third dragoon: indeed second dragoon: a little more action, please, if you want a penny betty (spinning and jumping into the air) : oh mister monster have a heart and for once please take the part of a kind and gracious host can you not summon up the ghost of those happy long ago days when you ran through the woods and played with your dog like a natural child and the sun looked down and smiled monster: do not waste your time and mine with your sentimental lines i only want one thing from you and that is on your bones to chew monster lurches toward betty, but she dances away from him betty: have you nothing more to say? soon it will be break of day your monstrous powers will be gone vanished in the dewy dawn monster stumbles toward betty, she dances away again, and does somersaults monster: gracious maiden, hear my plea do not think so ill of me an evil mage hath placed a curse on - on - on - at my birth - monster falls on his face betty: what, have you forgot your lines? what did i tell you the last time? betty jumps on monster and begins pummeling him. dragoons laugh, throw a few coins at betty and monster 29. ancestors

the road to the wicked city - 27. the four dragoons

by jeremy witherington

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a squad of imperial dragoons was making merry in the courtyard in front of the inn. nothing had to be said. it was an opportunity for hero to display her tricks, and try to add to the precarious funds of the little band. jen had been riding just ahead of the wagon, which was making a leisurely pace since entering the streets of the town. an occasional street urchin would shout at the wagon, usually something humorously deragotary about the inhabitants of the steppes and mountains, but they were ignored, and pythias and bucephalus plodded along to their placid rhythm. it was a warm evening, just growing dark, and hero and leander had been walking beside the wagon, preferring the night air to the somewhat stifling interior of the wagon. with a nod to hero, and to the mug the driver, jen rode away ahead into the interior of the town. the wagon stopped. before proceeding, hero beckoned to leander. “listen,” she said to him, in a milder tone than he was used to from her, “we have a good chance to get a good haul from these drunken boobies. we will try the punch and judy, and betty and buddy routines i have taught you. now look here, goat boy, i am going to try something a little different to get you up to snuff, as jen has forbidden me to use stern measures. can you guess what that is?” “no,” the bewildered leander replied. “if you do a good job, or even if you do not foul things up completely, do you know what i will do?” “no, what?” “i will let you kiss me. what do you think of that, eh?” leander would not have been half so amazed if hero had turned into a dove or a dragon and flown away into the sky. “i - that sounds good me,” he managed to say. “good. then let us proceed.” and with that she turned, did a couple of somersaults and sprang back on her feet in front of four dragoons seated around a table covered with emptied glasses and bottles. “here is a fine group of bold fellows!” she cried. “preparing themselves in the time honored way to enter the hell of battle and carry away glory! ready to go swirl to sword with corak himself and carry his head to the emperor!” “get away with you, you little bumpkin, you little dung beetle from the steppes,” growled what seemed to be the drunkest of the four, “ do you take us for shepherds or mountain men, new to the city? get back, you shall not get close enough to pick this soldier’s pocket.” “oh, you wrong me, captain, you do me wrong in truth!” cried hero, in no way put out by his words and doing a pirouette, “ i only wish to entertain you - to bring a smile to the lips of a bold soldier about to give his all to save the empire!” “entertain us?” exclaimed one of his companions, who had the appearance of a grizzled veteran. “you look a chick a bit too young to fry, miss. if you have an older sister, send her our way, that we may be properly entertained.” and he laughed, banged his glass on the table and looked around at his fellows for their approval of his words. “and enough,” added a third member of the party, seemingly younger and more sober than his companions, “ of your twaddling efforts to flatter us. we are about as likely to fight the dread corak as you are - if he even exists and s not a phantom. no, we have sat here in garrison since moloch was a chimneysweep -“ “by god, he speaks truth!” cried the final member of the quartet, a huge red faced fat fellow, “how we - or at least i, ha ha, long for the thunder of battle! to clash with the foe in the manner of our heroic forefathers! too long have we grown soft -“ but his peroration was cut short by a fit of coughing and a belch that shook the table. nothing daunted, hero persisted. “i am sure all you brave fellows will acquit yourself nobly when glory calls! in the mean time, why not enjoy a good laugh? i am sure you all know the stories of betty and buddy - well, we are here to present a brand new one - an imperial premier, just for you! if you enjoy it, throw us a shekel, or a lousy kopeck! it is entirely up to you!” and she turned to leander, who had been standing dumbly behind her the whole time. “are we ready - for ‘betty and buddy - in the castle of the monster’?” “i am ready,” leander answered. 28. betty and buddy in the castle of the monster