Death Returns

Chapter three: A Witness

The next morning he awoke to a knock at his door. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking the sleep away, and forced his tired muscles to sit up and pull the covers off so he could answer the door.

He swung the large wooden door open and squinted at the squat little maid that stood there, looking pale and nervous. "Uh- Sir Calian- may I come in-? To uh- to tidy up?" She asked, her voice so quiet and thin he could barely hear her. He nodded slowly and stepped aside. She stepped in and started hurrying around the room, cleaning and gathering things that needed to be washed. She took his clothes from the day before, the plate of strawberries, and the wine glasses, then left quickly, glancing up at him as she passed as if he was going to pounce on her any moment and tear her to shreds.

Calian just shook his head slightly, sighing, and shut the door. He got changed into new clothes, rinsed his face with some hot water from a bucket the maid had brought, and left the room.

He decided to wander about the numerous hallways in the castle and get familiar with the layout of it. Since it was rather early, not many people were awake and there wasn't much to do. After a few minutes of walking, he came to a set of glass double doors and opened them, stepping out onto a small balcony that looked over the back of the enormous hill. Leaning against the marble railing of the balcony was a man, tall and muscular, with dark brown hair and a beard. His back was turned to Calian and he hadn't seemed to notice him yet, his focus on the sunrise still in progress, admiring the pink and orange hues that were cast over the normally gray and dreary sky.

"Morning." Calian said, announcing his presence. The man turned quickly and smiled, flashing pearly white teeth and shiny blue eyes.

"Good morning. Beautiful, innit?" He responded, gesturing to the sky. His voice wasn't what Calian had expected. It was much lower and thicker than he would have guessed, a subtle Irish accent causing him to softly roll his R's.

"Yes, it is." Calian nodded, walking up to stand by the man's side. "Calian Banik. Pleasure." He introduced himself politely. The man grinned and shook Calian's hand heartily, clapping Calian on the back as he did so, the man's strength almost sending Calian over the railing.

"Rudolph O'Neill, pleased to make your acquaintance."

"No title?" Calian inquired.

"No, no title. If only, eh?" The man — Rudolph — chuckled, his friendly face scrunching up as he smiled. "I'm just a rather popular woodcarver."

"Woodcarving, hm? That's good work, I'd say. How'd the royalty scoop you up?"

"Well, I been selling my carvings for a few years now, and a while back the king and queen bought a dark oak dining set I had made and were impressed. When they heard of my reputation in my kingdom, they sent over one of those little letters I reckon you got as well."

Calian nodded and crossed his arms, the sun, now peeking over the horizon, forcing him to turn and shield his eyes. "Sounds like your invitation was well deserved. I suppose that was the dining set we ate at last night?"

"Yes, it was! I was very flattered when I saw. What did you think?"

"It's beautiful. Exquisite craftsmanship, your very good at your trade."

"Why thank you. I like to think so as well." He smiled proudly. "Well, I've been blabberin' about myself this whole time. What do you do for work, lad?"

"I'm a traveler. I sell and trade things along the way. It's good work, I suppose. Not much for settling down, though. But I don't mind."

"Ah, yes, well.. It sounds much more exciting than sitting in a workshop all day surrounded by sawdust. And how did the king and queen find you?"

"I'm not exactly sure, really.. they said in the invitation that they had heard about me across the kingdoms. I guess my status is a bit higher than I had thought." Calian said simply. Rudolph nodded thoughtfully.

"And is this your first time at the celebration?"

"Yes. And you?"

"Not at all. This is the twenty second year me and my wife have come. She's been coming for a bit longer, an original follower of Dionysus, and we met here the first time I attended."

"Ah.. how sweet. So the king and queen don't always only invite well-known individuals? Anyone who follows the cul- god, can come?" Calian asked curiously, trying to stay away from certain possibly offensive terms.

"Well, yes and no. If someone has a high social status, it has a chance of making the king and queen look bad if said person isn't invited, so it's not much of a choice for them. If someone is a follower of Dionysus but isn't very popular among their peers, it's not a big deal if they aren't seen here. But no matter what, if you're an ambassador, if you're merely a housewife that's been a follower of Dionysus for years, you must always have an invitation. If someone shows up at the gate saying she's bearing Dionysus' wee baby in her belly, but no invitation, she'll be thrown out on her behind." Rudolph explains.

Calian takes a moment to retain all the information, wandering if he should continue to ask questions.

"And over the months, you can do anything you wish? Why is that? It seems to get a little out of hand- from what I've heard- wouldn't a god want a bit of control over his worshippers instead of letting them just run wild?"

"My dear boy, this really is your first time. Dionysus is the god of freedom, pleasure, frenzy, wine. Liberty is what we stand for, and the more out of hand it gets, the better."

"I see. Well in that case, I'm curious— what's the most severe thing you've been witness to while here?" He asks, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hm.." Rudolph thinks for a moment, digging through memories of probably very foggy and intoxicated nights. "Oh-" he exclaims, snapping his fingers. "There was this one night, maybe twenty years ago or so, a duke was talking to the king and queen, complaining about something or other, then the queen was making an announcement. She explained that the duke — can't remember his name now, I just remember he was a plump fellow and always looked rather red in the face — had been assaulted and robbed by a couple of rogue Gypsies a few weeks ago. The king had said he knew of a couple in the village that matched his description, and the wife was said to have grown up a Gypsy. They figured this had to be the couple, so they sent their guards down to retrieve them.
When they brought the couple back to the castle, the duke got his licks in, then slit both their throats for stealing from him. Right there, in front of everyone! Well, naturally the king and queen were upset because they didn't want the execution to happen in the ballroom, the white marble was now stained, and a few people had gotten drops of blood on them. But the duke was satisfied.
I never did forget about that couple. Kept screaming they had a child. I pray for the lad or lass every day, hopin' they found someone to look after 'em." Rudolph finally finished, a mournful expression on his face, looking at the now risen sun.

Calian stood there, staring at the floor in shock, seething. His parents had been brutally murdered, for something they didn't even do. His grandfather was a Gypsy, not to mention a kind and generous one that would never assault or steal, and his mother hadn't been involved with it since she was a child. The only thing she got from her father's family was a free spirit.

He couldn't believe it. His whole life, this is what he had been waiting for. The story of why his parents died. And it turns out they were wrongly accused and murdered over petty theft.

Rudolph frowned, trying to meet Calian's eyes, which were still fixed wide eyed on the ground. "You alright there, lad?" He asked.

Calian's head shot up to look at him. He cleared his throat and nodded, not being able to quite shake the horrified look. "Yes- yes, sorry, I'm fine. Terrible story."

"Aye, It is. But, as they say, furentes delectamur." He shrugged, sighing and brushing his hands off on his jacket as if he'd just handled something filthy. "Well, I better get back to the wife. Wonderful meeting you, Calian. I'll be seeing you this evening, eh?" He said as he walked to the balcony door.

Calian nodded and forced a cold smile. "Yes, you will. Good to meet you." He replied, his voice hollow. Rudolph just smiled brightly, and left. Calian was left there on the balcony, feeling as though he were a child again, his parents' death fresh in his mind, and the need for revenge just as hot and piercing as the night they'd been taken from him.