Fever in Ariaslu

I think he knew we were waiting for him. What I couldn’t think – and I dearly hoped the Minister and Secretary could – was why he would come back at all if he knew we were lying in wait. We were not an entirely peaceful people, of course. Not anymore.

He didn’t use the gaffe on us, so my job was actually quite easy. I seized the end just above the hook from which he had attached the crab trap, and pulled with all my strength. He surprised me by offering no resistance, and I fell back onto the turf with the trap pressing into my stomach and the dull end of the hook rapping hard on my collarbone.

From there I saw him bear the scuffle that followed rather well, turning aside the Hofer brothers’ cudgels when they came too close to his head, and rotating his body as needed to keep Mercer the Hog boss’s swinging marlinspike rolling across his back. Painful, yes, but I could see that they inflicted less damage than if their blows had rained down on his ribs, or the bones in his arms.

Once he dropped to his knees, the Secretary moved in and clapped the irons on the fellow’s wrists. The Hog Boss struck once more, and our prisoner could not avoid even half the power that time. The flesh around his right eye would darken and swell all the way to Ariaslu.

But at the time, the Minister shoved Mercer out of the way and turned the man’s chin in my direction.

“Where is the bird?”

I became aware of the cage on my lap, and I tilted it upward to see if a small bird was hiding in the capped area in the top. It was empty.

“I let him go,” he replied calmly.

“When?” the Secretary demanded.

“Right before you accosted me.” He turned as much as he could while still on his knees and manacled, but he managed to make brief eye contact with everyone there. “That was unnecessary, by the way. I was heading toward your town, where I would be happy to answer all the questions I have any answers to.”

The minister scanned the nearby treetops. So did I, and everybody present with the exception of Mercer, who hefted his weapon in front of the prisoner in a show of intimidation. The man stared straight ahead, although I wasn’t sure if he was doing so because he was paralyzed with fear, or completely undaunted.

“Gone,” the Secretary whined. “We’re completely done.”
The Minister frowned. I was the youngest hunter, but even I knew better than to usurp him before he made a final analysis, even if – especially if – the situation was dire.  “We’ll find it. He-” The Minster tugged at the prisoner’s hair and pushed him in the direction of the path. “-will help us find it, later. After we settle things at home. Bring him. And the cage.”

It was getting dark when we approached the outermost farmhouse of Ariaslu, and the late autumn’s most notorious weather pattern asserted itself. The deep fog descended rapidly, hiding our approach from the community. This was likely the Minister’s intention. We could still navigate fairly well from memory, although I misjudged the proximity of the water pump to the chapel and banged my knee soundly against it.

The prisoner’s chains rattled as he leaned over in my direction. “Are you all right?” he asked, but before he could answer the Hoffers wrenched him back in the other direction.

We circled the chapel and lost the remaining light as the sun slipped below the mountains.  Either the minister or the secretary grunted, I couldn’t be sure which, and groped about the back wall of the adjoining shed.

“It’s a good three feet to your left.” The prisoner sounded amused. The others clearly were not, so he added. “Just a guess.”

The minister found the handle where he said it would be and pulled the creaky door open. “Inside.” I heard the prisoner’s chains clank inside. They closed the door after him and fastened it with a padlock.

I was dismissed, although I lingered long enough to hear the minister bid Mercer to remain at the door should “HE try anything.” It was not his typical Sunday manner of speech, not in English or German.

Mother was waiting for me when I came inside. She lit the candle and held it between us, studying my face, and flickering between two emotions I was not fully capable of fathoming.  One might have been relief, and the other some form of disappointment. Both feelings transitioned into a wilder place when she looked over my shoulder and saw him grinning over my shoulder, not confined, and not the least bit embarrassed by his blackened eye.

“I promised to bring you the best Poori I could find, Ursula,” he said, and held up a small bag tied shut with brown twine. “Sorry it took so long.”