17. A Story Is Soon Told, but a Difficult Work Is Not So Soon Completed
17
A STORY IS SOON TOLD, BUT A DIFFICULT WORK IS NOT SO SOON COMPLETED
It didn’t take Zakhar long to return with a pot of ink, paper, and a blotter. Working by lantern light, he quickly sketched out a very detailed drawing of the cathedral. Both Nikolai and Danik were amazed at the precision and neatness of his work. When they commented on it, he said, “This is much of what we do for our studies. We copy old texts, translate books from one language to another, and occasionally add our own artistic flourishes. I’ve been able to commit many passages of scripture to memory through duplicating pages over and over again.”
Nik pointed to the outline of the cathedral. “This looks like...”
“A cross?” Zakhar suggested. “Yes. It is meant to look that way. This is a double cruciform or two-piered cathedral. It is a symbol of Christ. When you enter the doors, the mind should be drawn to holy things.” Zakhar paused for a moment, then straightened. “There is much symbolism found within the church and the ornate rituals therein. I confess I delight in the exploration and study of such things, but unlike most of my brethren, I also find signs of our Lord in the more natural and simple things of the earth, such as the birds that sing in the morning outside my window or the flowers that bloom in the springtime.”
“For me, God is in music,” Danik said, clapping his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “When I want to feel close to God, I just imagine I am singing with His angels. Perhaps that isn’t good enough for some, but I’ve found it is enough for me.”
“The day I went to church was the day God destroyed my life,” Nik said. “So I’d prefer it if the two of us stayed on opposite sides of the universe. I’m sorry if that offends you.”
“My new friend, don’t apologize for your feelings. You are not the first I have met, nor do I expect you will be the last to impugn God for worldly sorrows. I do not condemn you for doing so, nor do I imagine does He. What griefs you have experienced in life only He and you know. Someday I hope you will look upon Him as I do. For me, it helps to picture God not as a destroyer or as a negligent, withdrawn figurehead but more as a kindly grandparent or as a wise old monk.”
“I... I don’t have any experience with any of those,” Nik replied. “The only men I’ve ever known older than myself have been evil.”
“Well then,” Zakhar said, “I will think on this further and pray for you, my friend. Perhaps an answer will come to one of us when God, or you, is ready to share more, da?”
Nik gave Zakhar a nod, and the priest turned back to the drawing.
“Now, where was I? Ah, right. Where you would normally enter is here, at the porch through the main doors. The area just beyond that is called the narthex. Then you hit the main body of the building, called the nave. You’ll see the bishop’s throne there and two wings; this area is called the transept. You’ll be entering the building at that door with my key. The east transept contains a picture gallery. There’s a hidden door on that side that opens behind some curtains.
“Once inside, you’ll head into the nave, turn right, and then instead of entering the sanctuary—where you’ll find the altar, the candelabra, the censer, and so forth—you’ll head up to the second floor through a door hidden in the mural of Saint Peter. This will take you to the bishop’s living quarters. His key will be on a leather strip hanging about his neck or on the bedside table next to him. I’ll bring you some shears to cut the string.
“After you obtain the key, assuming you haven’t woken him and caused an alarm, then you head to the west transept. Use the key to open the vault containing the cathedral library. Head down the stairs. Once inside, you’ll find shelves and shelves of books and the tables and chairs we use for our study. When Bishop Rudimov showed me the box, he locked it up in a large cabinet on the far back wall. It was approximately here.” Zakhar quickly drew a series of bookshelves, desks, and the cabinet and circled it.
“That’s fine,” Danik said. “But what I don’t understand is how one key can open the door, the cabinet, and this box. That doesn’t make sense. Did you see him open the box?”
“No,” Zakhar said. “The same key opens the vault and the cabinet. It’s the master key to everything inside the cathedral. Some of us, like me, have keys to the outer building. As to the box, he didn’t open it, so I don’t know if his key will work with that.”
Nik asked, “Is it built like a music box?”
“A music box? I’m not sure. Why?” Zakhar asked.
“I have a little experience with those,” Nik explained. “My mother had one. The key is sometimes stored inside the box itself, in a hidden compartment.”
“That would be helpful,” Danik said. “So when do we do this?”
Zakhar sucked in a breath. “Tonight.”
* * *
That evening the wind and snow blew only lightly. Danik hoped it was enough to cover their tracks by morning. He’d accompanied Nik to the side door of the east transept, and they’d used Zakhar’s key to enter the building. The cathedral was quiet; the seminary students, cooks, and priests were all asleep, as it was well past the midnight hour.
Wind rattled the windowpanes as they slunk through the dark passageway lit by nothing but fleeting reflections of moonlight peeking through clouds reflected off the snow-covered ground. Finally, they entered the nave, and Nik, invisible while wearing his tunic and magic boots, took hold of Danik’s arm. “Meet you on the other side,” he whispered, and then he was gone, heading up to the bishop’s apartment to secure the key.
Danik heard the soft snick of a door and saw a passageway open and close behind the bishop’s throne, then he quietly made his way across the room and through the west transept, stopping to wait by the locked door. He estimated it would take Nik approximately the same length of time it would for him to complete a song, so he tapped one out with his fingers on his leg. When he finished the first song, a second, a third, and began a fourth, he started to worry.
Nik headed up to the apartment, proud of the fact that he was quieter than a mouse tucked into his winter bed beneath layers of white snow. There wasn’t even a stutter in the bishop’s soft snores to indicate his sleep had been disturbed. The problem wasn’t Nik. It was the sleeping posture of the bishop.
Zakhar’s information was accurate in that the bishop wore the key around his neck. The issue was that the bishop apparently slept on his stomach, and he was a bit on the beefy side. That meant removing the key from around his neck was going to present something of a challenge. It wouldn’t be impossible; it just meant waiting until the bishop rolled over.
Nik did exactly that, but the bishop was soundly, deeply, comfortably asleep. After several moments of waiting, Nik decided he needed to take further action. Looking around, he found a quill and tried tickling the man’s nose with the feather tip. All that accomplished was eliciting a sneeze and a rather phlegmy snort.
He knew then that more drastic means were necessary. Taking hold of the man’s quilt, he gave it a little tug. The man tugged back. Nik pulled again, this time removing the quilt to the other side of the bed. With eyes still tightly shut, the bishop reached out, grasping at nothing until at last he found the blanket and yanked it back over himself, then proceeded to snore as before.
Frustrated, Nik slowly removed the man’s pillow in tiny degrees until his head fell, startling him awake. “What? What was that? No, sir. Not in my church,” he mumbled, grabbing his pillow from the floor where Nik had dropped it. He stuffed it beneath his head and rolled to his side. Nik mouthed a thank-you to the universe and waited a beat for the man to start snoring again before moving closer.
The gold key hung on a leather cord tied about the man’s neck, and Nik examined it from a few different angles, trying to see where he could slip the shears against it without having the cold metal touch the man’s skin. Finally, he found a good spot. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and made the cut.
Sadly, the key slipped down the man’s nightrobe before Nik could catch it. The strip of leather still hung outside his neckline, so, very slowly, he took hold of the tie and pulled it up, up, up until it came free. Just in time, too, because the bishop giggled, rubbed his chest, and rolled to his other side.
Nik got out of the apartment with his prize as quickly as he could and headed down to the rendezvous point only to bump into Danik at the door. He took hold of the other man’s arm, guiding him as quietly as he could toward the west transept, and the two made their way over to the vault.
“What took you so long?” Danik hissed as Nik removed his boots.
“He was sleeping on top of it,” Nik replied. “You have to know that things aren’t always going to go easily and account for it.”
“That’s easy for you to say when you aren’t the one waiting.”
Fortunately, the rest of their escapade went according to Zakhar’s plan, with the exception being that the vault was incredibly dark. There were no windows at all in the cathedral basement, so they stumbled about a great deal and were constantly on alert thinking someone would hear them and come down to check on the noise. Apparently, the wind was sufficient to block out most of it.
Once they found the cabinet, it only took a moment to discover the box. Locking everything behind them, they returned to the barn, doing their best to cover their tracks, leaving the snowfall to do the rest. If everything went according to plan, they’d get what they’d need and return the box, along with the key, before anyone was the wiser.
By the next morning, they realized it wasn’t going to be that easy. They’d believed the key would be needed to open the box, but that wasn’t the case at all. Zakhar arrived early, bringing some breakfast and a small haunch of deer meat for the tigers.
“Do you have it?” he asked excitedly.
“We have it,” Nik replied with a yawn. “But we haven’t figured out how to open it.”
“Let me have a look.”
Danik handed the golden box to Zakhar and took out his hunting knife, portioning the deer meat for the tigers. Once they had their breakfast, he cleaned his hands with the warmed water from the fire and began preparing their own meal. Nik sat back against a post, sipping hot sbiten with his eyes half closed.
Meanwhile, Zakhar was flipping the box upside down, left, and right, over and under, pressing on jewels and twisting different knobs. When a small piece of the lid clicked, and he pulled it open, he crowed gleefully. “I knew it,” he declared. “It’s an elaborate puzzle box. I’ve only heard of these, but I’ve never seen one.”
“A puzzle box?” Nik said, opening his eyes. “What’s that?”
“They can be simple, requiring only a few simple moves, or they can be very complex boxes requiring more than one hundred moves. So far, I’ve only managed a few. My guess is that this one is a complicated box with lots of levels.”
He kept at it while they ate, discovering a magnetized gemstone that was embedded in a removable piece of wood. If they held it on the underside of the box, they could hear something moving back and forth inside. Zakhar was certain that was the key that fit into the keyhole he’d just uncovered. They just needed to access it. Unfortunately, he needed to head to seminary classes, so he left the box in the hands of the other two men for the morning, promising to return and bring them an early supper. Zakhar had hoped to retrieve the key and the box before the others woke that morning, but he couldn’t take one without the other, so they’d have to wait and risk the bishop discovering one or both was missing.
Nikolai and Danik took turns trying to solve the puzzle, until finally Danik had the idea to push down on a small piece they’d both been overlooking on the corner. It must have opened something inside the box, allowing the key to drop into another compartment. Once it was there, they slid open the outside wall, allowing the key to fall into Nik’s palm. He inserted it into the keyhole on the top, and with a click, the box fell open.
Four sets of eyes stared down inside the box—two human and two tiger. Hands shaking, Danik reached inside and carefully took out the rolled piece of parchment. They debated for a moment if they should wait for Zakhar to return, but it was only midday, and they’d have to wait for several hours. Unable to resist, Nik tugged on the leather tie, loosening it, and unrolled the scroll.
Holding the parchment up to the light, Nik squinted at it for several long moments and then passed it off to Danik, saying, “I can’t read it. It’s in some other language.”
“Let me see.”
Danik perused it for a time as well but was equally frustrated, though he did take some time to admire the beautiful art in the margins. “Uh, Nikolai?” he said. “Take a look at this.”
He pointed to some beautiful renderings of tigers, with very familiar coloring.
“Yeah,” Nik replied, after a moment of comparison. “I’d say it’s them. Unless you’ve come across any that look like them before.”
Danik shook his head. “Stacia maybe, but she’s much redder than most tigers. They tend to be more orange. And I’ve certainly never seen any that look like Veru.” He took the parchment back and pointed out a section at the bottom. “Doesn’t that look like a cat to you too?”
“Not sure,” Nik said. “Might be a panther of some type.”
The two spent several hours studying the drawings, trying to figure out what they might mean. When Zakhar arrived with the evening meal, they showed him the scroll, and when he unrolled it, he, too, was fascinated with the art, but told them he couldn’t read the text either, even though he was well-versed in several languages. Then he peered at it more closely and gasped, tracing his fingertip lightly over the whorls and ink, focusing intently on one section.
“What is it?” Nik asked.
“Did you see something we didn’t?” Danik pressed.
Zakhar stepped back and turned away, clasping his hands behind his back. He paced a bit, mumbling to himself, saying things like, “It can’t be,” and, “Impossible.” Finally, he turned back and smiled at the others. While rolling up the scroll tightly, he told them that the bishop had instructed all the students to look for the missing key, and it was imperative that the gold box and the key be returned as soon as possible.
He’d brought a waterproof leather bag for them to wrap the scroll in, and as he carefully rolled the beautiful work and stored it, he hoped the suspicion he had didn’t show on his face. Like them, he believed the art reflected the tigers, but unlike them, he was skilled enough with letters and scrollwork to recognize the work of certain reputable artists, especially those he’d seen often. And Zakhar could absolutely identify work done by his own hand.
Though Zakhar had no recollection of creating such a piece, and it was much more masterful than anything he’d ever done, he’d found the hidden signature instantly. That he didn’t know the language meant nothing. It could simply be a copy of something he didn’t know. But how could it be? Had he created it before, during a waking dream? Or perhaps someone had duplicated his style? But why? It didn’t make sense.
What was clear to him was that he was involved. He had felt it from the moment they’d explained their situation. As much as Zakhar loved the church, when they moved on, he’d need to go with them. It was as simple as that.
Handing over the bag, he said, “Will you trust me?”
“Yes,” Danik said instantly.
“Depends,” replied Nik.
“Your magic boots and tunic. Will you let me borrow them?”
“Why?” Nik asked. “What are you going to do?”
“The storm has broken. Already I have risked much to supply you with food. Tomorrow before sunrise is the time to leave. I’ll use the boots and tunic to return the box and leave the key on the bishop’s staircase, along with a letter saying I have decided to return home. I will accompany you on your trip. If you will have me, that is.”
“Of course we will have you,” Danik said immediately.
“I’m not certain about this,” Nik replied, rubbing his chin.
“It is not you I ask, gentlemen,” Zakhar said quietly, his eyes trained on the tigers. Getting down on one knee in his cassock was awkward, but he managed to do it and bowed to the two tigers. “My tsarinas, I have come to the realization that there is a part I need to play in this. If you will accept me, a humble priest, as your servant on this journey, I offer my services. I cannot provide protection in the way of swordsmanship, but I sense you can take care of yourselves in that regard. I am, however, well-spoken; and I’m well-versed in many languages; and I’m good with maps, quill, and ink.”
Raising a finger, Danik said, “I, uh, am also good with maps.”
Zakhar waved his hand, trying to shush Danik, while keeping his eyes trained on the tigers.
“Will you have me?” Zakhar asked earnestly. Never in his life, even since he joined the priesthood, had Zakhar wanted something more. The mystery of the work done by his own future hand intrigued him. He needed to understand the how, the why, and the when. Every part of him knew he must accompany them at all costs.
Stacia glanced at her sister, who rumbled in her chest in reply. Then both cats approached the brown-eyed priest and sat down before him, inclining their heads in a gesture that the men took to mean approval.
“Thank you,” he replied with a smile and reached out to pat Veru awkwardly on the head before rising and tripping on his robes.
After Zakhar exited the barn with the magic boots, the bishop’s key, and the empty gold puzzle box tucked into his pack, leaving them with instructions to meet him outside the cathedral wall an hour before dawn, Nik said, “I sure hope we can trust him.”
Danik clapped a hand on Nik’s back. “I still don’t trust you , if that’s any consolation.”
With a snort, Nik built up his straw bed, put some more wood on the fire, and tried to get some sleep. It was going to be a long, cold night, or several nights, before they found shelter again.
* * *
The moon was bright on the snow in the predawn hours as they made their way outside the cathedral walls the next morning. They had the tigers walk first so they could obscure their tracks in the snow and then hid in a copse of trees as they waited for Zakhar to appear. Finally, they saw him emerge from the gate in the stone wall. Quickly he found their trail and followed it into the trees.
“Do you have the boots?” Nik asked.
“Yes. Here. Take them,” Zakhar said, pressing them into Nik’s hands.
While Nik turned and placed the boots down on the ground near the tigers, Zakhar took off his heavy pack and opened it, showing Danik what he’d brought.
“Redistribute some of this to your bags,” he said. “The cooks aren’t going to be happy with me after seeing how much food I’ve taken, but we have to feed the tsarevnas.”
“Thank you,” Danik replied, moving some of the food to his bag. “I’ll hunt when we have time to stop.”
“When we have time? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“You will soon,” Nik mumbled from his crouched position.
There was a whoosh as the magic boots transformed around the paws of each tiger, but this time instead of fancy saddles, the laces created long leather reins and straps that tied each tiger next to one another. Then they lifted in the air and wove together an ornate double-benched white sleigh, trimmed in gleaming black.
When the magic was finished, Stacia danced in place, a jeweled collar of onyx around her neck with a large emerald resting in the center on her chest. It was attached to a set of black diamond–studded reins and a harness. The laces on Veru seemed to have a difficult time deciding what to create. At first it settled on a shaft bow, but then the design switched to the same jeweled collar and harness as Stacia’s, but hers was made of gold and silver, with a huge white diamond at the base.
Zakhar’s eyes rested on that priceless gemstone, and his fingers twitched. “Look at that,” he said with something akin to awe and reverence. “Think how many of our suffering children such a prize would feed and house.”
Glancing up at him in that moment, Veru wondered for the first time in her life just how many children there were under her authority that went without food or shelter. She knew her mother had programs set up, but honestly, she hadn’t paid much attention to them. She’d been much more concerned with the Guard, border patrol, and diplomacy efforts. There was so much she didn’t know. She looked at the gemstone adorning her sister. Such things were beautiful, indeed, but they meant little to her and her sister. Neither twin cared much for the jewels or crowns or furs that came with their station.
There were times when they dined well at the palace, and there were certainly foodstuffs they enjoyed. She, in particular, enjoyed trying new dishes with spices and flavors offered when guests or diplomats from other lands visited. It was one of the reasons she wanted to command the military. That way she could explore the far reaches of the empire. Veru had an intense desire to see, taste, and experience everything the world had to offer. She wanted to meet the people, learn their customs, taste different foods, and study new languages.
Of course, she’d serve her own country and people at the same time. She’d always told herself that she’d be the best daughter of the empire she could be and would lead the military capably. But what if her dream was selfish? How could she head off to explore the things she wanted when her own people were suffering without the basic necessities of life? She was always willing to suffer alongside her men when it came to long marches, scanty food, or fighting the elements. Veru had learned to put her men first, and in return they trusted her to lead.
And yes, they’d encountered hungry faces along the way and had parted with blankets and rations when they could spare them. She’d always informed her mother of such things upon her return to the palace. But who would take care of those people now? Stacia? Her sister and the troops who followed her practiced the same policies Veru did. They’d never spoken about the many, many programs their mother had run on her own. Who would take those over? Perhaps it no longer mattered. If they remained tigers, there would be no more empire. No one to watch over the people. For the first time in her life, Veru felt anger over what had been taken from her, from them. They needed to fix their tiger problem and then return and defeat the sorcerer who had done this.
The laces danced in the air next to Stacia, as if waiting for something or someone else before finally settling down. The red-and-black-striped tiger, oblivious to the thoughts of her sister, narrowed her eyes, sensing the magic was trying to tell her something important. It was portentous. As if trouble loomed, or something was coming for them. She could almost grasp it, but she was unable to define it.
“I... I had no idea the magic could do this,” Zakhar said.
“We didn’t exactly either,” Danik replied with a grin. “Glad you brought food though. They’ll really need to eat after this. I also hope you brought a map.”
“I did,” Zakhar said, running a hand along the beautiful sleigh. “Why?”
“Because we need to get to a military outpost on the far side of the mountains. Climb aboard. Priests carrying food get to sit first.”
Zakhar took the back seat with all the packs and traps, leaving the front open for Danik and Nikolai. Picking up the reins, though hesitant to use them, Nik said, “Are you ready, ladies?”
Stacia cocked her head back to look at him, and Nik could have sworn she was smirking. Leaping forward, she began to run. The sleigh slid to one side and then the other, threatening to capsize at first, but then Veru started running, too, and they soon found a rhythm. Pulling together, they moved faster and faster, and before long the countryside around them blurred, and everything became white.