Chapter XXVIII

To describe the scene in a back alley in the Arxian capital city as “horrific” would be to do it a grave injustice. It will be a truly great poet who invents a word to describe just how horrible a sight it was. To give some context, a small group of young boys, between the ages of six and nine years of age, were playing hide and seek in the city that day. The youngest of them had been tricked into being “It,” and when he finished counting he went looking for his friends. He thought he'd heard one of them go into the alley, so he rounded the corner, expecting to surprise him. What he saw would give him night terrors for the rest of his life. After that the boy never spoke again.

Nailed to the wall, by his wrists, was the torso of a man whose jaw and eyelids had been completely removed. The blank stare of his eyes and the gaping hole where his chin and jaw were supposed to be just added to the horror, not that it needed to be added to, since, again, the lower half of his body was completely missing. Pinned to the corpse's chest was a slip of paper, the corners of which had been stained with bloody finger-prints. The corpse was soon identified as Poule, a pickpocket who had been working that area recently. Many men had often said they wished he'd die. Those same men now spoke about how he didn't deserve his fate, some even said they'd arrange a funeral for him.

When the city guards arrived they read the note pinned to the man's chest.

“Your royal Majesty,

“Every day that the traitor Grigori is kept from me I will kill blasphemers in your city.

“-Brother Enoch”

“No one is to speak of this,” Captain Gedon said. “This letter is for King Hadar's eyes only.”

Of course, few of the guardsmen truly knew how to follow orders, something Gedon had often complained about. Word quickly spread of the reason why Poule was murdered, that it had nothing to do with the fact that he was a pickpocket, and that there was an Inquisition killer in the city ready to slaughter innocent people in order to get to one man who'd betrayed the Inquisition by leaving their order. Some peasants called for this “Grigori” to turn himself over to the killer. Others called for war on the Inquisition for this outrage. Most simply hoped and prayed that the killer would be caught soon, and made sure that none of their loved ones ever walked the streets alone for any reason at any time. Children protested that they were no longer allowed to play outside, but most concerned parents had labeled every place in the city the killer's playground. They didn't know whether or not this “Enoch” would murder children.

The guard had their hands full trying to keep people from panicking. Since they knew the Inquisition considered everyone not of their faith to be blasphemers everyone knew they could easily become Enoch's next target. Some people were buying up or even stealing all the food they could so they could barricade themselves in their homes until this killer was gone. Others packed all of their things and left the city as quickly as they could, which would have been fine if most of them had not been fighting to exit first, as if Enoch was going to ambush all of them at the gates and massacre everyone. A few brave, but foolish, young men bought swords and daggers, and went out into the streets to find this killer.

That was how Enoch got his second victim, as far as the guard could tell. A young man was searching back alleys for a vicious killer, even though he didn't even know what he looked like, and found him. When the guards found the young man's body his neck had been broken, as well as both his arms, both his legs, and all his fingers. His own sword was stuck through his chest, along with Enoch's second note.

“Your royal Majesty,

“Is Grigori truly this valuable to you? How many will you sacrifice to keep him?

“-Brother Enoch.”

Part of the problem the guards were having with catching Enoch was that they only had Grigori's description to go on, none of them had actually seen the man, and Enoch was constantly in disguise. He was changing clothes often too, so that no one could get even a description of what he was wearing. Sometimes he'd even cover up the scars on his face with makeup or a fake beard. They passed by him several times, even looked right at him, but thought nothing of it. In the crowds of people who lived in the capital he was just another face.

Inside the castle Grigori panicked as well, no matter how much Hadar tried to calm him down. “He'll kill someone every day until he's caught me!”

“The guards will find him. He's bound to slip up.”

“And how many people will die by the time he makes a mistake? I'm not worth that many lives.”

Hadar was tempted to tell him that he was worth that many to him, but even just thinking about that made him realize that he might be making a huge mistake here. What sort of king would sacrifice the lives of innocent people for his lover? But another thought occurred to him: what sort of king let a murderer control him? “I'm not letting him tell me what to do,” Hadar said. “No one can command me! If I give in now it will just tell others that they can do something this bad and get whatever they want.”

“You know the commoners are demanding that I be turned over to him, don't you?” Grigori said. “I've heard from Captain Gedon. They're cursing my name and yours too! They say you're a weak king who can't protect his people from killers. Everyone in the city lives in fear now.”

“Yet, surprisingly, the violent crime in the city has plummeted since Enoch started attacking. The city's the safest it's been in years.” It was true. With everyone staying home there were much fewer muggings gone wrong, gang fights, or duels recently, meaning that the number of people dying from violent crimes was dropping dramatically. People were afraid because of the spectacle of these murders, and because anyone could be a target, not because the streets weren't safe.

“This isn't a joke, Hadar!”

“I know! I'll come up with a solution, but one that doesn't involve giving this murderer what he wants.”

When Hadar left the room he soon found himself meeting with Kamal in the hallway. “Do you have a plan, Sire?”

“Not yet, I'm working on one.”

“How far have you gotten?”

“I don't know what to do, but I certainly know what not to do.”

Kamal laughed. “Good man! I actually have a suggestion for you.”

“By all means.”

“Well, you're the King of Arx, and this man is threatening your people. It seems the only logical thing to do would be to go to war with the Inquisition.”

“We're already on the brink of war with Nihilus, Kamal. I'm not going to allocate resources to the west while the bigger threat is in the east.”

“That's not quite what I meant. Look, Enoch has been murdering your people, and he seems to think Grigori is 'valuable' to you. Note he didn't say 'important' or 'that good of a friend,' he said 'valuable.' This means he thinks that Grigori is a strategic advantage to you, that's why he's so bent on trying to kill him. I say send out a message of your own. If the attacks do not stop you'll bring your full military might to bear on the Inquisition and burn every copy of their Sacred Scriptures. Where the Inquisition once stood will be a flat, barren plain, as if nothing had ever existed there. The 'True Way' will be lost forever.”

“That's an empty threat.”

“It's also the strongest threat you can possibly make. If you leave it at 'I'll destroy the Inquisition' it may get him thinking about martyrdom and holy wars and all that schyte. But if you make him think that no one else will ever see salvation again, that their religion will be lost forever...”

“Then it would be his duty as a loyal follower of the True Way to stop that from happening! Perfect!”

“I certainly am,” Kamal said.

“You are what?”

“Perfect.”

Hadar wrote several drafts of the letter, not satisfied with the tone of any of them. Eventually he went to Grigori to explain his plan and get Grigori to help him with the exact phrasing.

“Kamal has a good point,” Grigori said. “This would probably work!”

“I know, but it needs to be said just right. I need to scare this blaggard out of his wits, until he turns his back on this city and never returns.”

“Alright, then. Let's see what I can do to help.”

“Brother Enoch,

“If these attacks do not stop we will put an end to the 'True Way' once and for all. You have taken the lives of my people, there can only be one response, a military one. We will wipe the Inquisition off the face of Erets and burn every copy of your Sacred Scriptures. The youngest children in your lands we will take into Arx and convert to our faith, raise them as they should be raised. Where the Inquisition once stood we will build a house of vice, a place for gambling, prostitution, and drunken debauchery. All this we will do unless you leave the city at once and never return. Do you think your pitiful military can stand up to the might of Arx and protect your faith?

“-King Hadar”

The letter was copied word for word several times over and pinned to walls all over the city. After Enoch read the letter he started listening in on conversations between the common-folk, trying to see what they thought of the threat. While most of the common-folk were illiterate, a few merchants and clergymen were able to read the letters and tell others what they said, and so word spread of Hadar's threats. Enoch had heard both that the threat was empty and that King Hadar was serious. It soon occurred to him that the commoners may be no more in the know about what King Hadar was truly capable of than he was. Enoch had heard about the growing tensions with Nihilus, the inevitable war looming on the horizon, but he didn't know how far away that war truly was. If it seemed to be a distant thing, something that wouldn't happen for another year or so at least then Hadar would have more than enough time to destroy the Inquisition. Enoch had no problem with dying for his faith, but he didn't want his faith dying with him.

The deciding factor in Enoch's deliberations, though, was the phrasing of the letter, but not in the way Hadar and Grigori had hoped. Enoch could tell that the letter was written specifically to pin-prick every one of the Inquisition's worst fears, especially the part about converting their children to the Agalmite religion. The only way that Hadar could have written a letter so cleverly crafted was if he had Grigori's help. Enoch decided then that war with Arx was probably inevitable anyway. Enoch thought Hadar was not bluffing about the war, but rather about the peace that he was offering should Enoch stop killing blasphemers in the city. He was going to invade and destroy the Inquisition sooner or later anyway, Enoch was sure of it. Hadar was just trying to protect the greatest advantage he had.

Such a threat had only one response, one that Enoch hoped would make Hadar think twice about sending his soldiers after the Inquisition. It was true that the Inquisition's military might was limited, largely because their numbers were so few, but those among them who were soldiers and killers were exceedingly efficient at it. Like Grigori, they'd been trained to be what they were from the age of six. Enoch needed Hadar to fear war with the Inquisition because of how many men he would lose, leaving him vulnerable to Nihilus.

One unfortunate city guardsmen named Haati lent a hand in that. He was standing guard over the main street in the marketplace that day, drinking from his flagon of mead, along with three other guards. Captain Gedon had forbidden drinking alcohol on the job, but few of the guardsmen followed that rule. Truth be told, they were so on edge, so terrified of the killer who was on the loose that a little alcohol helped keep the edge off the day. About half an hour after Haati had finished off his mead he felt the call of nature.

“Gents, I have to visit the outhouse.”

The outhouse was not in sight of the other three guardsmen, so they followed the usual procedure for such a thing, one of the other guards went with Haati to the outhouse. One guard stood watch outside as Haati went into the outhouse to do his business. Standing beside the outhouse for ten minutes, eventually the guard outside got restless and impatient.

“We have to return to our post, you know. You done yet?” the guard walked over to the door and knocked on it. “Hey! Haati! What are you doing in there?”

The door burst open and Haati's headless body was thrown at the guard standing outside, knocking him down. Enoch then leaped out and took off running down the nearest alley, his face covered in dirt and dust. The guard lying on the ground with his dead comrade on top of him shrieked and threw the body off of him, running back to the others.

“Haati's been murdered! I think it was Enoch!”

“Did you see him?”

“I didn't see his face, but I'm sure it was him!”

When they found Haati's head in the outhouse bruises in the shapes of finger-prints on his cheeks suggested that Enoch had forcefully held his hand over his mouth to prevent him from screaming as he beheaded him with a razor-sharp blade. The note pinned to Haati's back was far simpler than the previous ones.

“Under the watchful eyes of your soldiers.”

“Maybe it is time to turn Grigori over,” Kamal said to Hadar.

“How can you say that?”

“Listen, this man's killed several citizens already, and now he's killed a member of the guard, which means even they will be terrified now. He's called your bluff. He knows you won't risk the massive casualties you'd suffer engaging the Inquisition over this. There may be nothing more you can do but give Grigori to him at this point.”

“I won't do that! This man will not order me around! I am the King! Not he!” Hadar refused to be bullied into turning anyone over for a painful execution, especially a man he had such affections for.

“So be it, sire,” Kamal said, shaking his head and starting to walk away. “But remember that it is the King's duty to protect his people.”

“Yes, it is. And Grigori is as much my people now as anyone else! If I give in to this killer’s wishes then who truly rules Arx? The Inquisition will send a hundred killers to take hostages and force me to do whatever they want if I give in now!”

Kamal felt it was clear that he couldn't get through to Hadar at this point. It was terrible to see someone sacrificed to the murderers of the Inquisition just because they wanted to leave, but he had to weigh one life against many, something he felt the King was incapable of doing at this point. If he could not get through to Hadar, perhaps he could get through to Grigori.

Kamal found Grigori in the castle's sanctuary, a room designated as a place for prayer and worship, should the people living there ever find themselves unable to get to the Cathedral. Grigori was kneeling before the altar of God. On top of the altar was a miniature statue, made of glass, that looked like some kind of sea-urchin, which was what the prophets had said God most closely resembled. The candle lit underneath it caused it to shimmer and shine, reflecting light all throughout the sanctuary.

“Pardon me,” Kamal said as he approached.

“Oh, Kamal. Hello.” Grigori stood and turned to face him. Judging by his face he'd obviously been crying, but his eyes were drier now.

“The city is at the end of its rope, Grigori.”

“I know.”

“I'm afraid I must ask you something, something I feel terrible even for bringing up.”

“I know what must be done, Kamal.”

“You do?”

“It's what I should have done the moment I saw Enoch in the city. I never should have let my cowardice endanger others. This is why the Inquisition calls fear a sin, because it prevents us from doing what's right.”

“I'm sorry, Grigori. For what it's worth, you have my respect and admiration. There's not many men who'd realize what the right thing to do in this situation is and accept that. In spite of your past you've become a good man, as far as I can see. God will welcome you into the halls of Heaven. Your soul will easily pass through liquid stone unscathed. Someone like you would never be condemned to walk the surface world for all eternity as a ghost.”

“Is that what the Agalmites believe happens to the souls of the unrighteous?”

“Yes. What does the Inquisition say?”

“That they're claimed by demons.”

“Well, neither of those things are going to happen to you. You have a good soul.”

“Thank you, Kamal.”

“I'm so sorry to ask you to do this.”

“Don't be. I would have done it even without you asking.” Grigori had promised Hadar that he'd never attempt to take his own life again, and Hadar had pointed out that giving himself over to a murderer was the same thing, but Grigori feared that under these circumstances he had to break his promise. There was just one more thing he wanted to experience before he died, one more transgression against the ways of the Inquisition.

Grigori snuck into Hadar's room late at night. He'd figured out the patterns of the guards who patrolled the halls, and learned when the changing of the guard took place, and as such was able to get in unnoticed. Hadar sat up in his bed as he heard Grigori approaching.

“Grigori, what is it?” Hadar asked, groggily.

“Shhhh...” Grigori climbed onto the bed and started crawling toward Hadar.

“What's going on?”

Grigori gently pushed Hadar back down onto his back on the bed and began kissing his lips. The attention was most certainly welcome, but Hadar was still confused about why it was happening now, at this time of night. Grigori's hands wandered over Hadar's toned chest, feeling his body with his finger-tips through the material of his pajamas. Hadar moaned at the feeling, but when Grigori started lifting Hadar's shirt up to take it off Hadar broke the kiss and said, “No!”

“Why not? Please, I need you!”

“I know what you're up to!” Hadar said in a harsh whisper. “You don’t want to die a virgin. Once you've had your way you'll go out and find Enoch, let him kill you. I won't allow this! You promised me you'd never try to take your own life again, remember? You promised!”

“I know, but...”

“No excuses!” Hadar stood from the bed and grabbed Grigori roughly by the arm. “I'm not allowing this!” Hadar stormed down the hallway, dragging Grigori along. Grigori was shocked at just how forceful Hadar was being, and while Grigori himself was stronger than the average man, Hadar was far stronger than he. Hadar dragged Grigori down to his guest-room and pushed him in. Hadar closed the door and shoved a chair up against it. After the chair was in place Hadar wedged a candelabra under the door to further prevent it from moving, even if Grigori were to throw his body against it. “You're staying in there until you've come to your senses! This is for your own good!” With that Hadar stormed back to his own bedroom, furious at what Grigori had just attempted.

Of course, he hadn't counted on the fact that Kamal was in the halls at night. He walked by, saw the chair propped against Grigori's door and the candelabra underneath, and was able to deduce what happened. “Forgive me for this, Lord,” Kamal said, before removing the chair and candelabra and opening the door.

“Kamal?”

“You told the King your plan?”

“No, he guessed.”

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not,” Kamal sighed. “Well, now's your last chance to back out. You know what I think needs to be done, but I won't tell you to do anything you don't want to.”

“I'm going to do what's right.” Grigori walked out of the room and hurried off down the hall, towards the exit.

A few moments later, Hadar came down the same hallway with a skeleton key in his hand, intending to lock Grigori's door, and saw the door open, with Kamal standing in front of it. “How dare you?” Hadar shouted.

“You couldn't do what was right, so I simply allowed him to.”

“This is treason!”

“Treason? Really? Is that how important he is to you? I bled with you, Hadar! I was there during that horrible battle in Caste Xane! Now I try to protect your people and you call it treason? I know he's your friend, and as such you want him safe, but I thought I was too!”

“That's what I thought too,” Hadar said, pushing past him and hurrying towards the door. With any luck he’d catch Grigori before he did something foolish.

Grigori walked out into the capital city at night with his short-sword drawn. He knew that he had almost no chance at all of defeating Enoch in a fight if it came to that, but that wouldn't stop him from at least trying to defend himself.

“Hey!” Hadar called out to him, running towards him. “What do you think you're doing?”

“What's right!” Grigori shouted back, hoping that Enoch would hear his voice and arrive soon.

“This isn't right!”

But Grigori didn't respond, he stared off into the distance, past Hadar, at Enoch, who was walking towards them both with a sword in each hand. One a blade was a short-sword and the other a long-sword. Hadar turned to see the large man approaching and reached for his diamond blade, only to realize that he had forgotten to take it with him. Only in hindsight did he realize that with a dangerous killer on the loose it might have been prudent to grab his sword and a few guards, but when he'd run out of the castle to chase Grigori he was in too much of a rush to think of that.

Enoch's eyes could not have been more intense. They almost seemed as much weapons as the blades that he held in his hands, and his scowl just added to the aura of dread around him. Seeing this hulking man, who had already brutally murdered several men in the city, approaching like this Hadar felt like his feet were frozen to the ground.

As Enoch advanced on the two young men he felt that Sandalphon had seen fit to present him with two targets, two lambs to slaughter that night; one a traitor, and one an ambitious king of heretics. When Grigori took defensive footing and held up his short-sword Enoch felt no fear. He knew that Grigori's pitiful attempt to defend himself would not end well for him. When Hadar picked up a broken brick off the ground and held it back, ready to throw it at him, however, he was slightly more on guard.

“If you bother to fight back I'll kill three more heretics on my way out of the city, just for the trouble,” Enoch said. “If you both surrender, meet your deaths with dignity, then you'll be the last two people I kill here.”

“There's no dignity in dying at your hands,” Hadar said. “We've seen the 'dignity' of your previous victims already.”

Enoch kept walking, even as they spoke, and just when he got within range Hadar threw the brick in his hand at him. Enoch easily stepped out of the way as the brick hit the ground, and the instant he heard the crack he rushed the two of them, thrusting his blades forward. Hadar and Grigori both jumped to get out of the way, and Hadar swung out his fist and hit the same arm he'd cut before. He struck it right on the stitched-up wound. That arm had been hard to move since the injury, and had lost most of its strength, but over the course of his first few days there Enoch had healed surprisingly quickly due to certain herbs and drugs he knew how to brew that would help the healing process. However, the wound was still tender, and the strike on his arm caused him to drop the sword. When Hadar dove for the blade Enoch seized him by the hair and pulled him up to his feet. With Hadar almost completely helpless like this it would have been too easy for Enoch to stab him in the chest with his short-sword, but Grigori was nearby, looking for an opportunity to lunge in and kill Enoch. Hadar groaned in pain as Enoch yanked him around by his hair and held him between Grigori and himself.

Grigori wished in that moment that he could have used the agony spell he'd used on Ocran weeks ago, but he thought that now that he no longer had favor with Sandalphon he couldn't do so. Seeing the man he loved being jerked around by that merciless killer and feeling like there was nothing he could do about it, Grigori had never felt so powerless.

“Wait! I'm the one you want!” Grigori said. “Kill me, let him go!” All the while Grigori was still taking small steps to try to get an opening where he could strike Enoch. Enoch noticed this and kept shifting his feet slightly to prevent Grigori from getting said opening.

“Commendable, but now you both have to die,” Enoch said.

“No! Why? He's not the traitor! I am!”

“He's going to bring war to the True Way, I cannot let-” Enoch didn't get to finish what he was saying. Hadar punched Enoch in the throat, the knuckles of his fist as hard as stone from the callouses he'd built up during his training at Caelum. Professor Zuriel always used to say that paladins were never truly unarmed, for they had their rock-hard fists and their faith as weapons. Well, it wasn't Hadar's faith that crushed Enoch's wind-pipe. Enoch made a choking sound for a few moments and grasped at his collapsed throat. Hadar punched him again, this time square in the nose, breaking it and knocking him onto the ground. Grigori took the opportunity to run in and stab Enoch in the heart with his short-sword, just to make sure he was dead.

Grigori and Hadar stared at each other in silence for a few moments, both letting the adrenaline in their veins die down a bit. After what seemed like days, Hadar broke the silence. “Don't you EVER do something like this again!”

“Don't ever lock me in my room again.”

Hadar gave an uneasy and guilty laugh. “You have a point. Sorry about that.”

“So...what do we do now?”

“We go back home. We can tell everyone that Enoch's dead in the morning. And you,” Hadar hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words, “...should sneak into my room again.”

“Tonight?” Grigori asked, “...Umm...as much as I want to I don't think I could pull that off a second time. Before the conditions were just right...”

“Then...perhaps in the morning?”

“I can do that.”

The next morning Grigori came to visit Hadar in his room, making it look to the guards like it was official business. Once he was in, the two of them made love for the first time. Neither of them had really any idea what to do, though. Grigori barely understood how intimate relations between a man and a woman worked, let alone between two men, so Hadar had to take the lead the best he could. Hadar had never been with a man before either, so much of what they did was guess-work, experimentation with what felt good.

Still they enjoyed their time together, mostly because it was the principle of the thing, the expression of their feelings for each other, manifested physically. After it was over, the two of them laid in bed together, holding each other in silence and thinking about everything that had happened. Not just everything that had happened over the past few minutes, but everything that had happened over the past few weeks. About how much Grigori had changed, about how their relationship formed. About how much joy Hadar had found with Grigori, and about how that joy was nearly stolen from him.

After lying there for over half an hour, Grigori finally broke the silence. “I...” he stopped for a moment, wondering if those words really needed to be said again. Was it still too soon for Hadar? he turned his face away, hiding his embarrassment.

“I know,” Hadar said. “And I love you too.”