Chapter 42: An Audience with Bane
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The Deacon led me down the hallway. He stood in front of the second door from the entrance and knocked. “Healer Okersz, are you in?” he asked in a loud voice.

We heard the sound of shuffling steps and then the door opened. We were greeted by an older woman whose brown hair, streaked with gray and white, was tied into ponytails behind her ears like a young girl. Despite the deep wrinkles marring her skin, her blue eyes were sharp and focused. Her eyes roamed all over the front of my body as if already assessing my physical injuries. “Please come inside and lie down on the bed,” she said with a deep frown.

I entered the room and saw at least a dozen beds with curtains for partitions in between for privacy. Despite these flimsy partitions, I saw a few ankles chained to corner bedposts. This place looked more like an infirmary for prison inmates. I took the nearest unoccupied bed and sat down.

The healer stood in front of me and made a request. “Please take off your shirt.”

I stared at the old woman for a moment. I didn’t really want to show my bare chest to a total stranger. It was hairy and pouchy and definitely not the definition of masculinity. But the look in her eye made me comply and I reluctantly pulled off my shirt.

Healer Okersz frowned again when she examined my upper body. There were no injuries at all! Not only that, but there were no scars or any indication that the man had spilled his blood. Yet, the bloodied shirt told a different tale.

The healer and the deacon exchanged looks but kept silent.

Finally, the old woman pointed at the dresser leaning against the wall. “Please find a robe that is the appropriate size for you to wear. The upper drawer has robes. The Bishop has asked that you be brought to him when you have been treated for your injuries. Since you have none that I can see, you can leave the infirmary once you are presentable to him,” she said.

I obeyed the healer and walked over to the dresser. It was a simple wooden cabinet with the width spanning three hands and the height reaching mid-torso. It had two drawers stacked one above the other. I opened the top drawer and pulled out several well-worn white robes. I tried them out until I found the most fitting garment. I wore the robe over my torn clothes. I neatly folded the other robes and put them back in the drawer. When I turned around I was surprised to see Kalistro standing next to my bed. I quickly executed a deep bow to the Grandmaster.

The cat man nodded slightly. "Kalistra took the bed at the end of this room. She is still unconscious but her wounds have been treated, along with mine," he explained and bowed to the healer, who reciprocated. "Please tell me what happened underground," he requested.

Seeing the deacon and the healer looking on with great interest, I quickly recounted the events, including the last stand being made by Maisen and the captain and my fight with Ebenthal. Again, I excluded mention of the strange sound and smell, and my mysterious rejuvenation.

"Did Gurgne explain to you that the animal people are immune to were-disease?" Kalistro asked.

I nodded.

"I would like to hold onto your sword during your quarantine. Even though Maisen had only intended to lend the sword to you originally, by your valorous actions you have earned the right to carry it," he said. "Defeating the leader of the were-pack was not an easy feat and your achievement has brought great Honor to our dojo," Kalistro praised me.

I bowed deeply in response. I quickly detached the scabbard from my belt, held it in both hands toward the Grandmaster. "I entrust my sword to you," I said and bowed again.

"I accept with Honor," Kalistro replied and took the scabbard. When I lifted my head again he asked, "If you are infected with the were-disease and turn tonight, who will you designate to help you commit seppuku?"

I tilted my head for a moment. Where did I hear that term before?

"Seppuku means honorable suicide," the cat man explained when he noticed my confusion.

Ummm . . .

Deacon Manfeuh interrupted the conversation. "Anyone found to have turned into a were-creature will be executed. There are no exceptions. The only leeway offered by the Church is who does the actual execution. If the condemned has designated an Executioner, then we will honor that designation to the extent possible," he explained.

I took a deep breath once I heard the explanation. The logical part of me understood the rationale for killing were-creatures in this manner. Were-creatures were like cancer and they must be excised to prevent their spread to the rest of the human population in Tregome. But emotionally, I found the circumstance to be rather cruel. I could only hope that my Kissed by Lady Luck blessing will protect me from becoming infected; I had no clue why I was brought into this gaming world but I had no intention of dying here. Regaining my resolve I said, "I choose Kalistro."

The Grandmaster bowed deeply. To be designated as the Assistant of a Seppuku was a great Honor. It reflected a deep, personal bond between the designator and the designated. While it was true that Kalistro had met this strange human only recently, the Grandmaster had been very impressed by my will and determination. And Kalistro felt tremendous pride in having me as a pupil of the dojo.

The deacon put his hand on my right shoulder. "The bishop is waiting for your report," he gently reminded me.

I nodded and followed him out the door.

#

We passed by several clergymen in the hallway. The men, all dressed in plain white robes similar to mine, appeared to be agitated and nervous; perhaps, it was due to the news of the were-hunt or the town judge's assassination during the public trial. I noticed a set of stairs leading down, presumably to the dungeons where prisoners were kept.

Thankfully, the deacon walked right by the guards standing in front of the stairway, giving them a reassuring smile before moving on. Manfeuh led me through a checkpoint to our left with more armed guards stationed. Then, we squeezed through a narrow passageway for a few minutes and finally exited into the main hallway.

A page quickly accosted us.

"We seek an audience with Bishop Canterbury," the deacon said. "With me is Brother Mulligan to deliver an update on the Were-Hunt," he added.

The young man quickly ran down the hallway and disappeared into a room at the very end. He reappeared a few moments later. "The bishop has asked me to escort Brother Mulligan. He asked you to return to your duties, Deacon," the page said.

Deacon Manfeuh offered a faint smile and then turned toward me. The deacon was hoping to be present when the report of the were-hunt was delivered; however, the bishop had other ideas. "When you are ready for your lessons, please seek me out at the church. I bid you a good day, Brother." He nodded and started walking down the hallway.

I looked at the caption above the page's head and saw that his name was "Pnemlan." I smiled and said, "Please take me to the Bishop. I'm sure he is anxious to hear my report."

Pnemlan nodded and started walking down the hallway until we stood in front of an elaborately decorated door. It was made of fine oak wood; on the door was a large carving which depicted a man with shortly cropped hair wearing a robe and holding a cross. A demon was on the ground and cowering in fear before the exorcist.

The page knocked sharply on the door. "Your Eminence, Brother Mulligan is here," he announced.

A moment later, the door was opened and I saw a familiar face—Enab!

The personal assistant of the bishop stepped to the side to allow me to enter and then closed the door behind me.

I quickly approached the bishop, who rose from his chair behind his desk. I knelt and kissed his hand per the customary greeting upon seeing the Bishop.

"Please rise and take a seat," Bishop Canterbury said graciously. He was secretly pleased that I had learned the custom already. His face was lined with worry, just like the other clergymen that I had encountered this afternoon. He sat back down and waited patiently for me to be seated in one of the wooden chairs in front of his desk. When I had done so, he said, "Please give me your report."

I quickly recounted the events starting with the wererats' daring invasion of the Butterfly School of Swordsmanship and how they were repelled back into the tunnel by the students of the dojo. I then mentioned the timely arrival of Captain Li and his Watchmen. I made sure to mention the captain’s offer of a gold piece bounty to any adventurers willing to guard the opening to the wererats' lair. I glanced at the Bishop's eyes, but he maintained a professional poker face and I couldn't tell whether he approved of the captain's offer. Finally, I discussed our venture into the wererats' lair, our ambush by them and how I managed to defeat the leader.

When my report ended, Bishop Canterbury said, "Praise the Gods of the Law and Order for your survival of your encounter with Ebenthal! The Gods must have watched over you!"

I nodded in agreement. Then I took a deep breath and got up from my seat. I turned around to look at Enab. He was hovering halfway between the door and my chair; the young man wore a blank facial expression. My heart started racing because I was about to do something that others, like Kalistro, would find stupid. "I seek an audience with Lord Bane," I said and bowed deeply before the young man.

I heard a gasp and then a choking sound behind me. After a few heaves of deep breaths, the bishop said in a loud but worried tone of voice, "What do you mean? Lord Bane isn't here! Are you delusional?"

I ignored the desperate denials from the older man and kept my pose before Enab.

After a long moment of silence, I finally got a response: "Kekeke." When I lifted my head, I saw Enab holding up his left hand toward the bishop.

The young assistant stared at me with malice in his glowing red eyes.

I couldn't help but shudder in fear. Did I make a mistake in revealing my knowledge of Enab's true identity?

"How did you know?" Enab asked. His inhuman voice sounded like a deep growl.

"The last time I saw you, back at the study in the Church, I saw a black flash and then a demon with two horns, dark brown fur, and a pair of leathery wings stood in place of your human form," I explained.

Enab frowned. "How could a low-level human manage to pierce through my divine-level illusion?" he asked rhetorically. Suddenly his eyes glowed again when the answer occurred to him. "It was your divine blessing from Lady Luck that revealed my true form to you," he thought aloud. "I'll need to have a chat with your Patron," he growled. "But that still doesn't explain how you identified the demon you saw as the great Lord Bane," he noted while puffing his chest out like a male peacock.

I quickly shut my mouth. I didn't want to get Kalistro in trouble.

However, Enab stared deep into my eyes for a long moment and then he grinned. "I need to pay your little dojo a visit soon," he smirked.

I quickly realized that Enab knew Kalistro was my source of information. The Demigod had somehow read my memories. When my jaws dropped, I saw Enab grin and tap his index finger against his right temple to confirm what he had done to me.

Suddenly, a sharp knock interrupted our conversation.

Enab threw a look of annoyance at me and then quickly smoothed his face. He answered the door. "Bishop Canterbury is in an important meeting right now and cannot be disturbed. Please inform this of anyone seeking an audience with His Eminence," he said aloud. He closed the door and locked it. Turning his head toward the bishop, Enab said in a familiar tone of voice, "Hey, Zohan! I need to have a conversation with Larry for a while. But I'm afraid we'll be interrupted here. So, I'll bring him back to my home. Don't worry, though. I promise I won't hurt him. Much," he added the last word with a big grin.

The Bishop bowed deeply. "As you wish, Lord Bane."

Enab turned back to me and finally dropped his illusion. His human form was replaced by the demonic form that I had accidentally uncovered. Without warning, he gripped my right shoulder and said, "Recall!"

I smelled rotten eggs before I lost consciousness.

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