PART THIRTY-FOUR:
Going for the gold:
The sleeping man heard the loud bang, then rolled over to his other side. It must be a bad and loud dream, he thought. As he adjusted himself and prepared to return to his slumber. That was until he heard the second and louder thump. Seating up abruptly and rubbing his eye, he muttered under his breath. The sun was barely overhead. And he had worked very late, the previous night. Chopping and roasting about a dozen hunted game, was no small labor. A very popular and busy butcher had put in an order for roasted venison last minute. He had been willing to pay for the inconvenience of a short notice.
He was already headed for the living room. When he heard his friends impatient call and fingers tapping, on the large wooden door.
“Calm down my friend. Are you running from a hound? And what brings you here so early?”
“I am calm.” Started the antsy guest, who had stepped forward as soon as the door was opened. “The real question should be what keeps you in here so late? The best catch is always before noon.” He concluded with a half-hearted grin.
“I can’t go hunting today,” the sleepy guy continued. “Yesterday had been a very busy day. I had filled some very specific and large orders.”
“Why did you not call me? You should have, knowing I do not have much going on at this slow period.” He scowled, shaking his head disappointedly.
“It was a last minute order and I had to get to it as soon as possible. My intentions were not to cut you out.” He explained and then suddenly interjected; “Hey, why don’t you come in and have a seat. And maybe I could fix us something to eat. Did you have breakfast yet?”
His visiting friend brushed past him without a word. Sauntering into the living room area with an air of familiarity. There was a huge and worthy reason for his visit today. A cause which provided absolutely no time for small talk. When he got to the center of the living room. He turned and waited for his friend who was latching the door, to approach.
“What is going on with you? You seem very much agitated this morning. Are you well?” The awakened host ventured, when he got to where his friend was standing. He suddenly regretted that he had asked, as soon as he voiced the question. Knowing after all, that his friend was almost always ruffled.
“We will find out in a minute,” supplied his friend. “Shall we seat down?”
“Certainly, do pardon my morning forgetfulness.” The host offered sincerely. After which both men settled in opposite chairs.
“I heard from a friend, who is friends with a friend organizing a very large deal and transaction.” The visitor started with deliberate vagueness.
“….Organizing a very large deal and transaction.” The host friend repeated thoughtfully. Not sure where the conversation was going. But nevertheless, he gave his friend his full attention.
“This so called extravagant transaction, involves precious stones or possibly one extraordinarily magnificent stone. I am not quite sure of the count.” He looked at his friend, as if expecting him to get the message already. Observing his confused expression, he continued speaking.
“What I am telling you, is that a large amount of money is expected to change hands. Okay, let me repeat that again. A very huge amount of money is supposed to be passed from one party to the other.”
“So? Doesn’t that happen everyday? It is called commerce, no?” Managed the host, who was still trying to figure out where all this talk was going.
“No, not this amount. This is not what you see everyday. And magnificent stones do not fall from the sky, on a daily basis either.”
“Okay.” He agreed. But raised his brows to inquire further.
“Before I go any further. Guess who would be providing the 'cash spitting item' or items, whatever the case maybe?”
“I have absolutely no idea whatsoever.” The tired host felt that the mystery conversation and quiz session, were now making him dizzy.
“The very smart healer of course, who else did you think?”
“The healer? I still do not know, what you are on about with this discussion. Nor do I get, where you are coming from either. And I certainly have no idea as to where you are going with it. I mean what has a healer got to do with precious stones? And a very large amount of I guess, questionable transactions. A wealthy merchant or trader, I can understand. So please make this simpler for me. What exactly is your point?”
“My point is,” the highly strung guest began. “The same healer that swooped in on time and conveniently. Thereby stealing our richly embellished, bejeweled and comatose body from us. Is the same person that has made it big, I mean real big.”
“In what way?” The host was still lost.
“Do you remember that I tried to warn you? About taking the body to his house, when he had claimed that he could raise the half-dead man?” The listener nodded reluctantly.
“Well rumor has it; That he claims to no longer have the body. It just opted and disappeared. Now coincidentally, he just also happens to have some precious gems, to sell at the Festival/Fair.” He stopped and nodded confidently.
“So?”
“So. Did you just say ‘so’? Why do you think he cut us out and sent us home? He knew there was profit to be made, that’s why.” The narrator got up and paced for a few seconds, then continued. “Here is my point. We found the body first. Therefore, all the proceeds should go to us. Or to me, if you so choose to be free from this windfall.”
“You do know that the so called windfall. Is or was a human being, right?”
“Yes, a human being that was covered in money-making memorabilia. A revenue that we deserve.”
The host friend shook his head in dismay and exasperation, before responding.
“So, who told you about all this? I mean, where did the notification come from?”
“What do you care?!” The guest snapped. “Like I said in the beginning, a friend of a friend’s friend told me.”
The host friend heaved a sigh before speaking. “What exactly, do you intend to do with this absurd piece of information?”
“I intend to go and get mine. Rightly reclaiming what originally belongs to me, is what I want to do.”
Cutting ties and severing bonds:
“That will be all for now.” The queen mother stated flatly. Dismissing the housekeeper, with a flippant wave of her hand. Then she turned to the woman standing in front of her, with a not so welcoming look.
“What is it now?” The royal’s voice was tinged with anger and irritation, as she continued to scold. “I thought I told you to curtail your visits. Is there any more reasons, for you to loiter on these grounds?” Her eyes flashed in obvious rage.
“I would hardly be loitering queen mother. I lived here once. My father worked for the king and so did my brother after him.” Methus’ only sister replied. Feeling hurt and disappointed, at the older woman’s curt approach. She had not really expected a warm embrace. But the meanness was making the situation as terse as it could be.
“So you did live here once. Does that now qualify you to move back in? Or are you not aware? That it’s all in the past now? I will go ahead and ask you again. Why are you here?” Ethia glared at her. Working hard at intimidating her further. And then possibly eliminate her presence for good.
Without further ado and also to rid herself of more abuse and ridicule. The unwanted guest, pulled out a small package from the bag hanging on her arm. And then handed it to the queen mother, without a word.
“What is it?” Ethia demanded cautiously, without reaching out to take it.
“Alright then,” started the young woman when she saw the reluctance. “I found this in my brother’s belongings, while cleaning out his room.” When the royal still did not respond by word or action, the visitor continued. “It is a piece of red cloth, wrapped with a string of cowry shells. And the words inscribed on it says; ‘To Methus my son’.”
Ethia stiffened, but still did not move. However, her eyes appeared to have glazed over. Presenting a deadly stare.
“It also contains, a piece of royal cloth. The pattern and colors, distinctively yours.” She paused and waited. Feeling a sudden surge of confidence fill her spine. She was not a natural one to ‘bell the cat’. But the offensive words hauled at her from the start, helped her forge ahead.
“My son?” The queen mother's voice, dripped with sarcasm. “Did you forget, who your mother was?" She sneered. “And how do you know? That my cloth was not stolen?” She finished with a loud and disgusted hiss. Then turned to walk away. Only to stop dead in her tracks, at the young woman’s next words: “I know exactly who our mother was. That could never be mistaken. This piece of cloth right here, was signed ‘Queen Ethia’. It was signed by you.”
Somewhere behind the shadows of the heavy, concealing and embroidered drapes. A young man gently opened the door and slipped out quietly. Walking very briskly, he headed back to the main palace building.
Disposable identities:
Xitus swiped at the great mirror. Expertly collating six different images. Personas and characters, which he had selected for his mission. Stepping back, he observed the glass surface intensively. Boring invisible holes through his medium. Until he became lost in a swirling echo of dark smoke. A few minutes later, the fog cleared. And an attractive male stood dusting off his garment. The monitor grinned in satisfaction.
“A very convincing young man you have become.” Stated Heinus the head monitor. Who had just walked in on the transformation process.
“A very convincing mission I must carry out.” The second monitor retorted, as he stepped into the portals of a mortal realm.
.