Wilbur

Wilbur found the old man's presence unnerving. It was nothing the old man did. He sat with his back bowed proclaiming his age while the furrowed brow spoke of wisdom of years. His hair grown white with time and mouth occasionally quivering. It was none of this that Wilbur noted, for all of it was masked by the singular intent his eyes shone with. It was his eyes.

Wilbur in his years of service had learned to know about men from their eyes. Eyes spoke to him more than the mouth ever did. Men who had faced death had different eyes than men who enjoyed it. But with this man, who introduced himself as the Priest of Wheatbridge, Wilbur found a tone he had long not seen. To an inexperienced one, these eyes may speak of madness. But Wilbur knew it was a grave folly to assume such.

This is not madness. This is a child; a child of malice and malevolence.

Wilbur placed his hand on the table and said with more intensity than he wished, "This is not a light matter, a man with wisdom such as yours might understand. How did you find us?"

The old man delivered a crooked grin, "I do understand Sir that your matter with Rhugh." He waved his hand expressing his concern, "And the fact that you have chosen this inn to break any trail set against you. I assure you we come in peace."

Wilbur was not convinced. The priest noted this and resumed, "It all started from Wheatbridge Sir. To understand how we came to know about you I must first tell you what consequences led us here.

"There was a raid in our town, now raids are frequent in Wheatbridge. Townsfolk were weary of this constant fear they lived in," the face of the Priest expressed hate in degrees Wilbur did not wish to fathom.

"But this time it was different. The White god had made his presence known. That gave the townsfolk renewed hope. But the raiders, they still came. They came to beat my boy like they always did, loot, rape and plunder. The raiders knew alchemy, there wasn't much fight the townsfolk could give them. Raiders occasionally found resistance from a war head that was deployed but not that day.

"But He was merciful," the Priest raised his hands. "Down here, The White God sent a saviour.

"One man. He destroyed the Thief Guild too down its root and with such force that they cannot rise again. They cannot rise for dead men don't. Yes Sir, every raider was killed right down to the last one."

The old man presented Wilbur with another crooked smile. Wilbur chose to look out of the window as the Priest continued, "Come morning we burned down the Town Centre and the soldiers who guarded nothing thin but rats, saw the end of day. They deserved it.

"In that political void came a time of peace. It was not long before someone suggested that we join The White Capes who have the blessing of The White God himself. What better reward that that can we expect?

"Many townsfolk rose to my call and we came to Andlenore to know of the tragedy that had just befallen them and how episode with Rhugh had ended. I had some contact with Dolin and Priest Bill. Noting that we only meant good for The White Capes the disciples of the Priest revealed your location Sir, and thus here we are pleading acceptance in your Order."

No wonder the inn keeper was astonished to see hundred men at his inn in the morning. It isn't common for Artinopolis to have so many visitors after all.

Wilbur noted how naturally well lit the room was. Sunlight sifted through a single window. The inn keeper had promised it was the best room he could offer with an added element of privacy. Wilbur looked back at the old man, "O Priest, this I inquire of you, what is your purpose of joining The White Capes?"

The old man seemed a bit surprised. It wasn't a question he had expected apparently, "Why Sir? To fight against the King of course why else?"

Wilbur looked at the old man. His eyes bothered him more with every passing instant. He unsheathed his Gladinstone blade and placed it on the table. Wilbur noticed the old man didn't even flinch in the least.

Wilbur said, "What do you see, Priest?"

The Priest eyes the blade but did not respond. Wilbur continued, "Do you see any seal? Any engravings?"

"No," answered the Priest.

"And what does that mean?"

The Priest remained silent. Wilbur rose from his seat and walked towards the window to look outside, his blade still on the table. His six foot frame blocked out the sun throwing shadows at the old man. "Seals are for those who serve men. In most cases those who serve Gods, don't need seals for they themselves stand as symbols. What makes you assume that our purpose would be to rise against the King?"

"But Sir Wilbur is your purpose not the same? Didn't the White God kill the Giant who served the King? Isn't that the message, to rise against the King?"

"And he left me who had the King's sword, alive. You are gravely mistaken Priest. The only message was to rise against injustice to the best of your ability. And that is the reason he gave me and the others the gift courage. The White Capes do not engage in the dealings of the empire unless so threatened."

The old man coughed, "Sooner or later you will cross swords with King's armies. It is not like the King will let you go after killing two of his renowned Generals. And what he showed us was injustice."

The Priest said, his voice reflecting his temper, "The raiders knew alchemy; they were noble blood. The King turned a blind eye to them. My boy got beat up black and blue every few months, we were looted, left with hunger in our stomach and nothing but words for company. That is injustice. And I say we rise. We need to rise. We need the King's head on a spike and the nobles need to know what is coming in their wake."

He banged his hands on the table. The Gladinstone blade rattled, "They don't deserve to draw a single breathe such fowl creatures are better use dead."

The old man was breathing heavily. Wilbur realised the old man was deep down in a pit of quicksand, caught up in the never ending cycle and he would drag others with him.

I will have to break it with all my power.

A little silence ensued which Wilbur soon broke, "So tell me did you meet The White Capes down below?"

"The boys and exiles? Yes I did Sir."

"Yes the little boys and the previously dishonoured exiles," Wilbur said.

He paused before continuing, "I am sure you saw the boy with the scar on his face, Thralin. You know how he got that scar? The Giant had been using him as sparing doll since he was fourteen. His own father lost count of how many bones he broke. You say your boy got beat up every few months, Thralin on the other hand never got a break, as soon as he healed he was thrown again in the training pit. You know that archer boy Ken who walks with a limp? It was The Giant of Nimbleville who went wild while training. Do they curse the King? Do you see an ounce of ill will in their eyes for anyone, O Priest? Hell they don't even curse the Giant anymore."

The Priest had found an ally in silence. The Gladinstone blade had started glowing reacting to Wilbur's current mood. He turned to face the Priest who was in turn staring at the glowing Gladinstone blade.

"Did you see the archer? Carter Hill." Wilbur's voice found a new intensity, "He was the one who was holed up in Wheatbridge and the resistance you were talking about; Carter Hill gave rise to that resistance. And the girls. There are only three girls, all archers. And the Giant of..." Wilbur paused as a lump formed in his throat. The Gladinstone blade had started rattling violently on the table.

"Did any of these boys ever utter a word about injustice? I see only smiles and laughs on the faces of those three girls. And they are but kids, you are a wise man yet you fall such? "

The Priest had his eyes widened, with lip quivering more. The Gladinstone blade started floating, still clanging against the table as if an angry invisible drummer had found good use of it. Wilbur inched his face closer to the Priest. His huge frame seemed to loom over the little man now draped in shadows.

"You come here and tell me what injustice is? You hold dear a grudge against the King you have never met and nobles you will never see? I do not find it amusing old man.

"I deny you or your townsfolk entry in The Order of The White Capes as long as your purpose of joining is to rise against the King." As Wilbur completed his sentence the Gladinstone blade flew up from its place on the table and was flung towards the window, Wilbur caught it in mid air and sheathed it.

The Priest was visibly shaken. His eyes lost the look they held. Wilbur watched the flicker die gradually. The old man said, "I realise now Sir Wilbur. Let us join in The name of The White God. It seems we had deviated from our path. We will cleanse ourselves of it I assure you."

Wilbur's expressions calmed as he turned to look out of the window. "Then I can grant you what you desire."

He continued, "There was once a boy of tender age. He lived in a big city, his house along the city walls. He never ventured far from his little circle. Curiosity caught up with him and he decided to explore beyond the wall. He went out and realised the wall was much longer than he expected. He ran along it to come across another gate. There he saw amusing new things. Daily he would go to find a new gate along the wall and visit new fantastical places, one day the gate he opened was that of his own home. He realised that he had traversed a full circle, the wall was encircling his city and he would have reached those wondrous places sooner had he looked within the city itself. Many laughed at the folly of the simple boy but they themselves were prey to it."

The Priest looked confused, "Sir Wilbur what are you trying to say?"

"Look within yourself Priest."

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