Faith and the Piano
The atmosphere was sedate in the Hidden Stag. A few regulars were perched on the barstools, keeping mostly to themselves. The floor tables were for the most part empty, but the few patrons that were present were slumped over a table or lay on the stained floor where the barmaids stepped over them. Off to the side was the forsaken piano that Reynaldo had noticed before in previous nights. But instead of just having an old yellowed sheet and discarded drinks decorating it, a padre sat in front of the broken keys. He played a traditional hymn that seemed to promote the general lethargy.
Reynaldo scanned the area for Talen or Charese, the latter so that he could ask of the former's whereabouts. Even the situation didn't call for it, Reynaldo felt that he should look after the boy. But that often proved to be a formidable undertaking. He sighed, seeing that neither were present. "Need something to drink, Mr. DeRicci?" A barmaid asked quietly at his side. Reynaldo recognized the barmaid vaguely, "You have a good memory, madam..." She smiled faintly, "I have a good memory for good tippers, Mr. DeRicci..." He returned the smile, "Indeed. Get me something from the tap, if you would..." "Yes, sir." Reynaldo pulled up a chair at the corner of the floor. His eyes drifted toward the piano player. A barmaid refilled the padre's glass sitting on the shattered top of the piano. DeRicci's mind wandered, calling up childhood memories of weekly family gatherings so long ago. He smiled at the memory of stiff formal clothes and his own vehement protests at an early morning hour. The barmaid stepped in front of him. "Your drink, Mr. DeRicci..." "Thank you, ma'am." She pulled up a chair, setting her tray on the table. Removing a shoe, she tenderly massaged her foot in her lap. "He does requests, you know..." "I'm sorry?" She straightened her back. "Calls it Theus' tab, if you'd believe it..." "He's a regular? The padre?" "They don't get anymore regular than him, Mr. DeRicci..." "Hmmm..." "You should go and tell him what you want to hear..." "Maybe I should." The barmaid left him to his thoughts. The piano hit an off key. Reynaldo conceded to himself that it had been awhile since he had talked to a priest. Well, a priest that wasn't trying to kill him or had met with some unfortunate accident. He walked over to the piano and stood over the padre slightly. DeRicci seemed to be unnoticed as the padre continued with his selection. One of the instruments legs were off causing the piano to tilt side to side rhymically as the padre played. Something moved in plain sight, teetering off the edge of the piano. Reynaldo acted. The superb reflexes of youth had now tempered with the years worth of experience. He caught the glass effortlessly and not a drop spilled from its fullness. The padre turned and took quiet notice of the Vodacce swordsman, his eyes drawn mostly to his glass in Reynaldo's hand, and on occasion to the details of his person. The sword at his side. The worry lines present in an otherwise youthful face. "Thank you, Mr. DeRicci..." He reached for the full glass that Reynaldo quickly relinquished. Reynaldo slightly bowed. The padre smiled pleasantly. Reynaldo appraised the padre's form. The padre wore streetclothes whose condition was only a few cleaner steps ahead of the typical patron at the bar. Only the high collar of his closed shirt identified him as a member of the clergy, as well as a curious silver trinket that adorned his neck. His face was open and decidedly Avalon. He was relatively clean shaven, with maybe a days worth of growth. His ash blond hair was lightly kept and short and he was graced with the steadiest set of eyes that Reynaldo had ever seen. They possessed a comforting solidarity which made his age indeterminate. The only lines in his face was the slight crinkle in those eyes... "I believe that Ashen would thank you too, " He indicated an unkept sleeping patron that wrapped his arms around one of the piano's ancient legs. "But he's a bit drowsy at the moment." The padre struck up another cord. As the padre played an offkey, but well played hymn, Reynaldo sipped his ale and thought. He watched and listened as Ashen made several suggestive overtures in his sleep, addressing the table leg in extremely informal terms. On occasion, one of his hands would drift higher up the leg and a disturbing smile would play on the unconscious man's drooling lips. The padre played on, apparently oblivious to the blooming romance below. "So, padre, why is it that everyone here seems to know my name?" Another smile. "Do you play, Reynaldo?" "No, padre," DeRicci was slightly uncomfortable with the familiar. "Never sang a note?" DeRicci smiled in rememberance of a certain stage in another place. "On occasion, but my voice tends to make people cringe instead of adorate." "I see. I have the same problem. Sometimes, I think people are overly critical of my abilities in that area..." "But you play well." "Flattery, my dear friend, flattery. Shame." The padre scooted over, ignoring the complaining creaks of the stool. "It's not really that hard. Just come here and hold your hands above the keyboard..." Reynaldo hesitated a minute, but in the end saw no harm in the padre's offer. He did have some concerns about waking the sleepy bar with his rendition of the traditional church hymn. And also there was Ashen, laying just scant where he would be sitting. "Just hold your hands just above the keyboard." The padre said after he sat. Reynaldo demonstrated. "Yes, like that. Excellent." He approved. "Mr. DeRicci. You've toured our little neighborhood quite a bit since you've arrived haven't you?" Reynaldo nodded assent. "What do you think?" "It's rather..." Reynaldo grasped for a diplomatic word. Everything that came to mind about this area of Freiburg was fairly unflattering. "Rough." "Rough. Interesting. You've probably noticed the lack of the city guard. A general lack of legal authority..." Reynaldo nodded again. "You might even have the impression that you're not being watched. But I can guarantee you that's not true. You see, no one's got sharper eyes than the people surrounding you now..." Reynaldo raised a speculative eyebrow at Ashen, who was continuing to caress his piano leg. "Indeed." Reynaldo said neutrally. "Things are especially tense now, although I can't say why. But needless to say, we are a fairly close knit group, we know everything about everybody, given a short amount of time. Unfortunately, its not very positively motivated. People, by nature, are ambitious, and the criminal element, even more so." "Are you warning me, padre?" "No. I'm just trying to answer your question. And perhaps give you some insight into a young man I happen to know fairly well." A moment of uneasy quiet passed. The padre continued with his hymn. The earlier waitress refilled both drinks quietly. Had Reynaldo known it, his own hands had betrayed him as they picked up the counterpoint for the padre's instrumental. But now he stared hard at the padre's youthful visage. "Should we be worried about Talen's ambitions, padre...I'm sorry...I never caught your name..." "Thomas, or Tom, or just padre. There's not a whole lot of them, here in Frieburg... But to answer your question, no, you shouldn't be. Talen's always been slightly odd in that way, not that he's not an opportunist, because he is, he has to be. I think he's seen enough of what such ambition can do. And believe it or not, he's been through more unpleasant experiences than you and I have put together..." "Somehow, Thomas, I seriously doubt that." The padre's eyes swept up from the keys and read Reynaldo's. The steadiness made Reynaldo uncomfortable, but he did not break the gaze. "Perhaps." Thomas conceded. "The fact that he's survived for as long as he has in this pit, is a testament to his resilience. And his intelligence." "Maybe. Tell me something, padre, or Thomas, that is, where is your parish?" Thomas smiled a little smile, "You know The Maiden across the street?" "The horrible red two story shack with all the vulgar scrawling across it? The one where the 'employees' seem a bit too....round and demanding?" Reynaldo shook his head. "You hold service there?" "No." Thomas said. "The single story building in its alley. And the girls are really quite understanding at The Maiden, just a little older than the ones here. A decade of drink and abuse definitely has its downside." "You frequent The Maiden, sir?" "I have my vices as well, Reynaldo." Thomas answered. "Being in the service of Theus only requires that I recognize my faults and work to curb them as well as I can." "Indeed. I suppose there are worse faults that a priest can have..." "Other than lechery and drunkenness... Most definitely... The combination of avarice and deception comes to mind, but I'm sure that you have never met any such as that..." Thomas smiled. "Good point, padre. Excellent point, actually." "Thank you. I do believe your next question was going to be; of whom does your parish comprise of?" Reynaldo nodded. "A mind reader as well, padre?" "Becomes second nature to you after a while. Look around, my dear Reynaldo, these fine people are my parishioners. Judy, the barmaid; Frederick, a fairly efficient killer, apparently sleeping at the bar; Ashen, at your feet, an assassin; the gentleman who just walked in, Berrin, heads up the criminal guild here; the bartender at The Maiden, Jack... You get the drift?" "But why, padre? Why these people? They're not going to change their ways, most of them do what they do because they have to, know nothing else, or are genuinely sick..." Thomas sighed. "These people, are just that; people. Given too little in life, perhaps. But making the most of what they got. That's the thing about these people, Reynaldo, and the reward of their faith. These people are what they are, but because of how or why they're doing it, they can't hide it from their peers. That means that they are honest about who they are, which is alot better than a good deal of the 'civilized' people are. And who's to say that they can't change, or just curb their attitudes just that tiny bit? It happens, I know. Talen lives for just that reason..." Reynaldo frowned a bit. "I'm sorry?" "Your friend, the Avalon, was told how Talen got to Eisen..." "You mean William?" The padre nodded. "Yes. But how he got to Eisen? No. But William did tell me about how Talen became separated from his mother and tutor. That Talen's mother and guardian were killed. Supposedly by the command of Talen's father. His own father tried to have Talen killed. How did you know that?" "Our eyes are sharp, but our ears are sharper, and there's very little that we don't catch here." "How did Talen get to Frieburg, padre?" "You know what she told your friend, we didn't know for a year after he got here, he didn't say alot, when he got here, I suppose he had good reason to. I'm sure that you realize how dangerous the forest can be in Eisen?" Reynaldo nodded. "His mother's carriage was taken in the middle of nowhere, it was planned that way, I imagine. Nothing out there but a few homesteads..." The piano took on a solemn tone, Reynaldo's fingers still gingerly played along the padre's. Thomas' was no faithful hymn, only a slow mournful song underscored by Reynaldo's faint continuance of the hymn before. The effect was haunting and beautiful. All eyes in the bar fixated on the piano and its players. "After escaping the fate of his mother and tutor, Talen continued to run throughout the day, until his shoes bled and his clothes were shredded, he came upon one of the homesteads I mentioned before. The hardworking people in Eisen are pretty friendly, and they would have most likely taken him in....." Reynaldo sensed meaning in the padre's pause, "But something went wrong?" "The homestead was already taking in strangers. Unfortunately, some of Frieburg's finest highwaymen were burning it to the ground..." Reynaldo hit the wrong key and looked, startled, at his hands. "You're not too bad, Mr. DeRicci." Thomas stopped playing the piano. The silence the accompanied it was disturbing, to say the least. "Talen had just got there when the women had been brought out. The men were already dead. The livestock freed." Reynaldo closed his eyes. "He just stood there and watched, DeRicci. Watched. Never said a word. That could have saved his life, but he wasn't alone... "You see, one of the highwayman was in the clearing just outside the forest, from which Talen had just staggered from. He made his presence known. And Talen just turned his head and stared at him. It was the most chilling stare that the highwayman had ever received. 'Moving dead eyes,' he called them. No hope, no fear, no anticipation, no life�" "He found that he couldn't kill Talen, but he knew that he had to do something. Talen had just witnessed hanging offenses, so he couldn't leave him for the other neighboring homestead owners to take care of him. He made a decision. "So he took him here, to Frieburg, actually to my parish, in particular..." "If he was brought to your parish, padre, then how�" The padre smiled a mournful smile, "Those were sad days, Reynaldo, sad and trying days indeed. The war was still ravaging our country, and I was no stranger orphaned children." The padre eyes took on a faraway look, "There were so many. So many, indeed. One more silent dramatized child was lost in the chaos. No one even knew that he was Vodacce. As he never spoke." The padre shook his head, "After a week I tried to find him again, but he was gone� And my heart was heavy then. I do feel responsible for Talen's circumstances. I don't think I will ever be completely free of it. But in the end I could do nothing for him. There was just too much and not enough if you know what I mean�" Reynaldo nodded. The padre began to play again. "The criminal guilds were establishing and unfortunately for Talen, he was noticed. Food was far from plentiful and the only way that Talen could get any was from the use of his hands. He didn't speak Eisen, although he learned it with record speed, remarkable for a child of his age. His hands became quick and he learned to fend for himself. To hide and to steal when he had to. But others had this ability too, and recognized the ragged silent child had talent. There were worse men that Talen could have been found by�" "But as well as you know, Talen has more gifts than one would guess from looking at him. His intelligence was able to gain him more than most. And he used it in suitable Vodacce fashion to manipulate the ones he had to and charm the rest. It had been two years since the highwayman had brought him to me, and he had been lost in the shuffle that Frieburg was now becoming known for. Two years and Talen had enough to tithe to the memory of his lost mother and tutor. I recognized him then." The mood was somber as the padre's playing became incredibly sorrowful and deep. The emotion in the air left few unmoved in the bar. Reynaldo himself found tears welling in his eyes. Not for Talen, but for the padre, as if Reynaldo, himself, felt the weight of Padre Thomas' perceived failure. A man of Theus has a conscience of the highest standard, and for all of the padre's faults and unsaintly attributes, he was such a man. The padre stopped playing and became lost in a thought. At the silence, Ashen stirred at the bottom, halfway crouching, semiconscious, and feeling up Reynaldo's leg. Startling Reynaldo. The response was immediate, the effected knee went straight up, catching Ashen's head between it and the solid oak bottom of the piano. Ashen slumped to the floor, unconscious. The whole bar had jumped from the loud crack. Including the padre. Unfortunately, the sudden movement was all that the piano bench could take. It collapsed. The weight of two men and the bench came straight down on to the floor. And on to the newly unconscious Ashen's outstretched leg. Ashen was now fully awake, and wailed so loud that Reynaldo thought his ears would burst. Reynaldo rolled off in that instant when Ashen slammed his head with double the force previously into the bottom of the piano. The piano lifted half an inch. Its' cover slammed down with an incredible bang. For a moment, no one spoke. But immediately, half dressed men and jennys came running down the stairs, some with clothes, some with guns, some with both. The previous sedate bar was inundated with bodies and its previous state was all but forgotten. The confusion was high and more people came in from the street. But soon all the confusion was forgotten, as the attentive bar maid laid out a houseful of cheap drink. Soon, Reynaldo was the center of attention, and through many of the conversations he apologized for the mess. Ashen even recovered, although hoarse and limping. That was cured with a little more of the house special. And soon, Ashen was napping once again, but this time he had the sense to do it in a chair. After a while, Reynaldo looked around for Tom, but the padre had made a mysterious exit. He considered it for a moment, but then with mug in hand he dazzled the audience with the unbelievable tale of the gates of Charouse. At the end of the night, he had made a few guilders�