Sample chapter- Order of Thanatos

It has been a very busy posting week for me, but as I promised last week, I wanted to offer a sample of my new project, The Order of Thanatos. I continue to work on it with gusto, and as of this post, it is at 28,359 words. Below is a very rough draft of chapter four. I will try to update it as time goes on, and it inevitably changes. I think it gives a good idea of the tone and feel of the story. Oh, and just as a reminder, Dawn of the Lightbearer is still free for a limited time (end Sunday, April 7), so grab a copy while you can and get introduced to my world of Lucardia.

As mentioned before, The Order of Thanatos deals with an ancient quasi-religious order in Lucardia that is responsible for the care of the dead. This includes many things, such as investigating murders or guiding spirits to the threshold, as well as the more mundane matters of preparing and interning the corpse. Sometimes, this work requires transporting a body long distances in a time without refrigeration or modern embalming techniques.

What is below is gruesome at times, but it is in keeping with early medieval practices, especially around the time of the Crusades, when the rich died far from their manors and required long transport back to their homes, which could take months. Additionally, the story takes place in a time roughly equivalent to the late medieval/ early Renaissance when curiosity about the human body and its workings flourished. Great minds like Leonardo Divinci were dissecting corpses and collecting all sorts of things for alchemy, further study, and medicinal treatments. That essence is captured here.

I offer this chapter now because I tried to keep the macabre aspects reasonable (it is certainly tamer than the research it required to write it), but I don’t know if I was successful. The nature of the tale requires this detail, and being a dark fantasy, probably expected, but my intention is not to gross people out.

The transport of Maelor of Flint, a rich merchant from Shadowrock, sets the stage for a journey Mishal, my main character, will take both figuratively and literally. I hope you enjoy it!

Cheers!

Chapter 3

The ordeal concluded without ceremony. Abbot Sigric flung the bloody whip to the ground and retired to his quarters without uttering a word. The other brothers released Brother Owin from the post and brought him to his bed. Although I did not witness it, I assume his wounds were treated with salt water and applied with an ointment made from honey and rose, as is customary. Both in shock, Caleb and I returned to our cellar in silence. The primal thrill of violence captures the eye and stirs the heart, but when the deed is done and silence descends, nothing remains but the regret of not turning away. This is the hallmark of all sin—uncontrollable desire and regret.

I felt sullied.

Our society has many punishments, some of which are barbaric. Growing up, I witnessed crowds gather for public penance and the rare execution. I was a gentle soul who had no lust for blood and never paid them any mind. I would even go so far as to say that I feared these displays. They were orgies of criminals and voyeurs who savored human suffering. It was a stark contrast to the hopscotch, blind man’s bluff, and hide-and-seek that filled my childhood days.

But now, I was well acquainted with a violent act, and it consumed a part of my soul. The man beaten at the post that night had taken a bribe from a dead man. He did not kill that man or even steal the coin. True, it was in poor taste, but was it worth a beating of that magnitude? In my naïve opinion, no.

I sat on my bed and stared at the floor. I pondered this question and cringed at the violence, too. But I’m ashamed to admit that the brutal beating and blood-smeared flesh didn’t occupy my thoughts for long. What haunted my mind was what had happened when Brother Owin split in two.

As if Prior Damek could sense my plight, he descended the stairs. “Is anyone still awake down here?” He bent his head under the arch and found us. His carefree smile had returned. “Ah, I thought so. How are my novices doing?”

We didn’t answer.

“That bad, huh?” Brother Damek sighed and joined me on my bed. “I understand what you witnessed was difficult, but Abbot Sigric is wise, and the lesson he has taught is as important as it is painful.”

“Is Brother Owin alright?” I asked.

“I’m sure he’s fine. It’s not his first and certainly not the last time at the post. You need not worry about him, as he will likely not return the sentiment.”

“He blames me, then.”

“Yes. But don’t worry about that now. I’ve not seen a man take more than forty lashes, and he will have a lengthy road to recovery- likely weeks. We will be long gone before he is well enough to cause trouble. You will be out of his life, likely forever, for Thanatos never assigns new brothers back to their homes. Even if you two should cross paths again, it is likely his anger will have cooled. Such is the nature of most men.”

“But he blames you and Brother Ratimir, too.”

“We can care for ourselves, Mishal.”

I stared at my feet. “I saw something.”

Prior Damek nodded. “I thought as much from your fit. Tell me what you saw.”

“A flash… and then… and then there were two of Brother Owin. One was motionless and lashed to the post, and the other animated.”

“The Reaping of Thanatos. Remarkable. You are such a sensitive boy with immense potential. Not even the abbot’s clairvoyance is strong enough to perceive a reaping. For most of us, the shadows of the dead materialize hours, sometimes days, after death.”

“The Reaping of Thanatos?”“Our doctrine equates death with a separation of the soul from the flesh—much like the reaping of wheat at harvest. Brother Owin’s punishment provided him a glimpse of the threshold. It is something all clairvoyants can sense, and many of us have heard the dead describe it, yet none can truly see it unless they, too, die. It is believed to be life-altering by imbuing the punished with the magnitude of the Order’s mission.”

“You mean Brother Owin died?” asked Caleb.

“Yes, but Abbot Sigric was quick to call him back.”

“You can do that?”

“In the right situations and with the right timing.”

“He did not look to any threshold,” I said. “He looked at me.”

“At you?”

“I’ve never seen so much want in someone’s eyes. He lunged for me but vanished when Abbot Sigric said those words.”

“That’s interesting. I’ll share this with Abbot Sigric; he’ll want to know that Brother Owin ignored his lesson.”

“What would he have done if he reached me?”“I don’t know, Mishal. A single spirit is harmless to most, but I wonder if that applies to a psychopomp. Perhaps it’s best that it remains a mystery. Some at Thanatos have the answers, which gives us more reason to hurry on our way. You can see why Abbot Sigric was adamant that you dedicate yourself to your studies. You possess a rare ability. The dead are drawn to the living but will be especially attracted to you. Your family’s reluctance to cross the threshold to stay by your side is a clear example. What you experienced was a miraculous moment of transition. As Abbot Sigric foretold, it was an important lesson that may assist you in distinguishing between the living and the dead.”

“But they seemed almost as twins.”“Was there no difference at all?”

“I don’t know. I was just terrified.”

“I imagine you will ponder it. Maybe you’ll recall something once you replay it in your mind, but try not to let it keep you from sleeping. We’ll make our final preparations for our journey tomorrow, and if everything goes as planned, we can leave early the next day.”

“You mean boiling the merchant in the vats?” Caleb said with a grimace.

Prior Damek stood. “Yes, and work will start at dawn if we want everything clean and dry by tomorrow night. You two will witness it all as part of your training. So, off to bed with you both. You’ll need your rest, as it will be difficult work.”

Prior Damek departed, and Caleb and I went to bed. As soon as Caleb blew out the candle, he fell fast asleep. It was a remarkable trait of his that never ceased to impress me. Once Caleb closed his eyes, no matter how grim the sleeping conditions, he was out. I wasn’t as fortunate. I tried to heed Prior Damek’s advice, but I tossed and turned, struggling to find a comfortable position. It was cold and damp in the cellar and full of strange noises. The boards above creaked, water dripped in the corner, little paws scurried across the stone, and Caleb snored.

After about an hour, pressure began to build in my bladder. I tried to ignore it, but once I noticed, it consumed my thoughts and intensified. I dreaded the walk to the latrine, both because I was finally getting warm and because it was a long trek through a strange, dark temple. I considered finding a spot behind the wine casks, but the fear of being caught and embarrassed pushed me forward.

I slipped on my sandals and stumbled into the darkness, arms outstretched in search of the stairs. I found them, but stubbed my toes. I shouted and cradled my wounded foot for a moment. Amazingly, it didn’t wake Caleb. I ascended to the comparatively bright cloister and felt relieved to see that the brothers had left a lit lantern by the latrine to guide the rest of the way.I did my business and hurried back to my warm bed. As I crossed the cloister, I smelled the faint aroma of roses. I paused, and something swelled behind me. I tried to turn, but a dead weight pushed me to the cobbles. I struggled to roll over, only to come face to face with Brother Owin’s intense stare. His ragged breath reeked of wine.          

“Get off me,” I yelled.

He held a knife to my throat. “Shh.”

I stopped struggling. “What do you want?”

“A moment to talk.”

“Go on, then.”

“The others don’t see it, but I do.”

“See what?”

“You’re a demon.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh, yes, you are. I saw the real you when Abbot Sigric tore me from my body. Demons lure us away from the great light. They drag us back from purity, sinking us deeper into this tainted realm. That is you—the great deceiver.” Brother Owin’s initial burst of strength faded, and the pain from his wounds twisted his face with little ticks. His grip on me loosened. “We had a good thing going here. You should see the coin that flows through these halls. Most of it gets sent to Thanatos for the ancients to squander on their luxuries, but there’s enough for us to take a taste without anyone noticing. There was potential to create something great here. The abbot is old. All we had to do was wait until he passed the threshold, and then Prior Damek could have a little accident, which is a simple matter in our trade. There’s plenty of arsenic and nightshade in the laboratory. Then, we would be free to open this shop properly and make a real fortune selling our secrets. But you’ve doomed all of that here forever. Abbot Sigric will watch us like a hawk now. The other brothers dump their savings in the latrine, fearing he’ll find their stash and send them to the post. But not me. I’ll take my earnings and make my way into the world. I’ll find another monastery even further from Thanatos’ influence. A lie here and a half-truth there, and I’ll be welcomed into the fold once again. My plan is solid, and once others see the coin pile, they’ll soon come to my side.” He pressed the knife closer to my neck. “But I won’t forget you, boy. You are etched into my mind forever.”

“I did nothing. It was my grandfather that ratted you out.”

“Well, I can’t punish him now, can I?”

A zing of pain made me squint as the knife cut my neck. “Please.”

“Oh, stop your crying. I ain’t so stupid as to slit your throat here in the cloister for all to see. Even if we weren’t in a temple full of hungry ears for death’s secrets, it wouldn’t take a great detective to figure out your murderer, and the law would be quick on my tail. But be warned. I will have my vengeance one day. When all here have forgotten the transgressions between you and me, I’ll come to find you. Yes, when you least expect it, I’ll be there waiting for you and make you suffer indeed.” Brother Owin patted my face. “Enjoy your journey, kid. When you find yourself strapped to a pole in Thanatos and suffer that first kiss of the cat, I hope you think of me.” He stood and staggered into the shadows. “Then you’ll appreciate the extent of my ire indeed.”

Brother Owin’s laughter faded. A door opened and shut in the distance, and the monastery returned to silence.

I lay there panting for a moment—the relief of being alive overshadowed rational thought. Brother Owin’s warning barely registered. First thing tomorrow, I would tell Prior Damek what happened, and he’d protect me. With Brother Owin’s injuries, he likely wouldn’t make it far. They would find him passed out a few blocks away and punish him for his drunken threats.

Boy, would I be wrong.

I stumbled into bed and slept for a few restless hours before the bells woke me at dawn. I didn’t want to get up, but Caleb pulled me to the frater, lamenting about his gurgling belly.

It didn’t take long for the monks to notice that Brother Owin was missing, which made Abbot Sigric’s temper worse than usual. He wanted to send others to search for him, but Prior Damek reminded him of the day’s work, which required everyone to contribute. The old monk relented, albeit bitterly. It would be a pock on the abbot’s judgment and cost him some of the respect from his flock. His lesson proved to be all for nothing. Abbot Sigric should have stripped Brother Owin of his torch and marked his face so he could never enter a Thanatos monastery again. The old abbot would be long dead by the time others paid for that mistake.

In silence, we had breakfast of coarse bread, milk curds with honey, and dried fish. I wanted to tell Brother Damek what had happened, but today, even the slightest lip smack risked provoking the abbot’s temper. I also met angry stares when I peeked up from my meal, so I kept my head down and finished eating. After that, we went straight to work.

Some of the brothers washed the pots and dishes from breakfast, while others started chopping wood and stacking it beside a giant cauldron perched over a pit. The rest filled the cauldron with pitchers of wine taken from the cellar. It required an entire hogshead, showcasing the wealth of the man who would soon bathe in this vintage.

Prior Damek led Caleb and me into the mortuary. The room was thick with vaporous spirits, balsam, and herbs, but beneath that was a sickly stench. At the center of the room lay a shroud-covered body upon a marble slab, tilted so the feet were elevated above the head. A pink stain traced down the pedestal to a bucket at the base filled with dark blood that had begun to coagulate. Next to the body were the tools of the butchery trade- long knives, cleavers, and saws laid out on a leather-covered table. 

Caleb and I halted at the door.

“It’s okay, boys.” Prior Damek laughed and pushed us in. “He’s well dead and not going to hurt you.”

We shuffled forward.

“You are both about to experience things that will no doubt send quivers through your bellies.” Prior Damek smirked. “Breakfast was probably ill-advised, but a retch of substance is better than a dry heave. If you feel sick, I urge you to swallow it down, as you will need to get over your revulsion in our line of work. If it’s an unstoppable force, there’s a bucket in the corner. We must take our time with the butchery so we do not damage the bones, and the boiling takes at least six hours. If we want to be finished by nightfall, we must get to work.” He spotted me staring at the bucket of blood. He gently turned my head away. “This is not a pleasant business. It will be messy and stink, but it must be done. In time, you will grow used to it and no longer see a person lying there but an empty shell of meat and gristle in want of a butcher’s knife. I know you have seen a dead body, Mishal, but have you, Caleb?”

 “No.”

“Well, let us dispel the mystery.” Prior Damek tore the shroud away. “I introduce you to Maelor of Flint, our future travel companion.”

The fat man lay naked, almost as white as marble, except for some bruises where his skin met the slab, known as livor mortis. He was bald with an orange beard, vibrant against his pale skin. On either side of his neck were small incisions edged with red crust.

“What happened to his neck?” asked Caleb.

“We cut his carotid to drain out as much of his blood as we could.”

“Why?”

“There are two reasons. First, blood is utilized in both alchemy and magic. Therefore, if we have a surplus in our stores, we can sell it to the Alchemists of Ignis, the Guild of White, or even to a coven of witches, if the magistrate is distracted, at a significant profit. The second reason is the same as why you drain a lamb or pig during slaughter—to make butchery less messy.”

“How’d he die?” I asked.

Prior Damek indicated a small gash below the corpse’s right rib. “He was stabbed in the liver during a botched robbery attempt, presumably by one of Kieren’s thugs. Maelor managed to make it to our care, but a vessel was cut deep within his liver, and there was nothing we could do. He died two days later. Before he passed, he requested to be returned to his home at Shadowrock so his family could inter him in their mausoleum, and that is what we shall do. We agreed on a price and signed and sealed the papers accepting the advance.”

Advance?” asked Caleb. “How’d he pay? With his clothes?”

“Ha, no. Maelor will pay us with valuable parts of his body, like the blood I mentioned and other things we will discuss in time.”

I studied the room. “Is his spirit gone?”

“Oh, yes. Once assured of the deal, Maelor crossed the threshold and left us with this stinking pile of meat. Today’s chore will be to reduce this mass to bones so he doesn’t burden us on our long journey.” Prior Damek tilted his head as he examined the body. “He’s a big man. Even boiled down, I’d say he’ll still weigh about twenty-five pounds.”

“Why do we go through all this fuss if all that remains is his shell?” asked Caleb.

“Because he asked us to and is willing to pay well for the service. Rule one of the order: it is not our place to judge the beliefs of our benefactors. You will learn at Thanatos that Lucardia has many customs regarding corpse disposal, and you will become knowledgeable in all of them. Knowing what we know, it may seem like a waste of coin, but Maelor doesn’t need coin where he’s gone, and if it helps him cross the threshold to know that his old vessel is safe and sound among those of his ancestors, then so be it. I suppose, even if cast aside, the shell holds a bit of nostalgia for some. Now, come here and put on these leather aprons so we can get to work. You don’t want to start your journey reeking of a week-old corpse.”

Caleb and I reluctantly did as we were told.

Prior Damek rolled up his cowl’s sleeves and tied them with a piece of twine. “I suggest you both do the same. You will not be observers, twiddling your thumbs while I do all the work. He’s got some girth to him, and I’ll need your hands, too.” He then took up a small, hooked knife and checked its edge. “Our first order of business is to remove his viscera.“His what?” I asked.

Caleb puffed out his chest. “His internal organs.”

“Caleb is correct. You’ve been studying.”

“I have!”

“Why must we remove his organs?” I asked.

“Because we’re not making offal stew, Mishal. The vat separates the flesh from the bone, so we’ll only put that in the pot. It will already take long enough with all this fat. Therefore, we’ll remove the organs first. Then, we’ll soak them in vinegar and herbs and pack them in salt for preservation.”

“They come with us too?”No. They will be preserved for future study—except for his entrails, of course. We will bury those so the gulls and dogs don’t create a mess. After sitting for a few days, they will become quite foul-smelling.”

“Why not the entrails?”“Simple, for the same reason fish guts are used in garum. No manner of pickling will keep them from going sour.”I swallowed. “Oh.”

“I suggest you both stand back. As a body sits, it sometimes collects gases, and Maelor here is four days dead and looking rather ripe.”

Prior Damek poked the distended belly with his knife, and a hiss of putrid stink blew out along with some mucousy bubbles. Maelor’s generous belly deflated.

“That’s awful,” said Caleb, covering his nose.

“Come on, boys. It’s not so bad for two who grew up in Newpost. Maelor here has only been dead a few days. Just wait until you cut into one that’s been gone for a few weeks. Then you can cover your noses and complain.”

Prior Damek went to work making two incisions beneath Maelor’s collarbone, joining them at his sternum. He then cut down to the lower abdomen in the shape of a Y.

Caleb stood on his toes to look. “There’s no blood.”

“That’s because most of it is in the bucket, and there is no beating heart to pump what’s left.”

“Eh, this ain’t so bad.”

Prior Damek flashed a knowing smirk. With the skill of a butcher, he flayed back the skin and the yellow gristle beneath to expose the muscled rib cage and a spool of entrails. He whistled. “Would you look at all this visceral fat? Maelor, old boy, you ate a rich diet indeed. Caleb, fetch me that basin. Let us be rid of all these putrid intestines first.” Prior Damek stuck his hands into the corpse and made two incisions, one at the terminal end of the colon and the other at the duodenum by the base of the stomach. He then scooped out the gelatinous gray, yellow, and red mass and flopped it into the basin with a splat.

Some juice speckled Caleb’s face, and he let out a shout.

“Oops, sorry about that, son.” 

Caleb ran to the bucket and vomited. I thought I might, too, but I kept my breakfast down with a few deep breaths. I gazed up at Prior Damek.

“Are you okay, Mishal?”

I nodded.

“Good. You’ve got the right kind of stomach for this work. Drag those entrails to the door so we don’t have to suffer their fragrance any longer than necessary. One of the brothers will take care of them. Oh, and fetch me two more buckets for the rest.”

I dragged the vessel back, pinching my nose and trying not to splash any of the foul goop. I then replaced it with two more buckets.

Prior Damek pointed. “That one is for the cask for preservation, and that one is for his advance.” He beckoned me forward. “Don’t be shy. Come here and help me.”

I inched closer.

Prior Damek dug back into the cavity and pulled out the bladder. He tested the weight of the bag. “Hmm, still full. Give me your hands. Touch makes things real.” He dropped the cold, wet bag into my palms. “There, no different than fish guts, right?”

“My family were coopers.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“What do I do with it?”

“Empty the bladder into that jar. There’s no use wasting high-quality lant.”

My lip quivered, but I obeyed. The urine was dark brown and pungent. I turned my head away. “Why are we saving this?”

Prior Damek sniffed. “Because it’s well-aged and serves as some of Maelor’s advance. We can use it to strip lanolin from wool, remove hair from leather, bleach our undergarments, or, in abundance, boil it down to make saltpeter to sell to the peterman.”

“Oh. What do I do with the empty bag?”

“Please put it in our treasure bucket. Its liquid-holding properties have many uses.”

I tossed the slop into the vessel.

“With some reverence, Mishal.”

“Sorry.”

“Our creator went to great pains crafting those mechanisms.”

The butchery continued with the kidneys, stomach, and pancreas. These went in the cask bucket. When Prior Damek reached the liver, he milked the gallbladder’s bile into a flask and set aside the dark green liquid.

“More of Maelor’s advance?” I asked.

“Indeed, bile serves many therapeutic functions in medicine.” Prior Damek handed me the liver for the cask bucket and then stepped back to assess his work. He wiped his brow with his forearm, careful not to touch his face with his dripping hands. “Now for the difficult task. If we weren’t boiling Maelor’s bones for display in a mausoleum, we’d cut straight through the costal cartilage of his ribs to expose his heart and lungs. But we’ll have to do it the hard way for him.”

Prior Damek dove back into the corpse to cut the diaphragm away and expose the pleura, the membrane that contains the lungs. He then reached in with the knife and removed the heart by touch alone. This took expert knowledge of human anatomy and skill with a knife. He had to cut through the fibrous pericardium and then slice through the various arteries and veins, of which there are seven, to free the organ. With a few more cuts, he pulled out the lungs, trachea, and esophagus in a single mass.

Strangely, the more Prior Damek examined the corpse, the less ill I felt. A macabre curiosity about the majesty of God’s creation replaced my revulsion, and I was astonished by how much machinery the human body contained as I observed the pile of organs. Caleb was not as impressed and missed most of this first lesson as he clutched his bucket in the corner.

Prior Damek caught my gaze as I examined his work and smirked. “See? Once you get past that initial disgust at looking inside your fellow man, it all becomes meat, just like any animal.”

“What do all these things do?”

“In time, Mishal, in time. You will have years at Thanatos to learn about all the wonders of the human-animal. If you study hard, you will even learn how to repair some of these mechanisms. The human body is a remarkable machine, only outshined by the spark that drives it. But right now, we have too much work to do to give a thorough lesson. This sea fret that has plagued Newpost these past few days signals a storm brewing to the west. If we don’t leave tomorrow, we may face further delays.”

We continued to harvest the remaining items to help pay Maelor’s bill. During the surgery, various juices produced by the breakdown of Maelor’s tissue through autolysis filled the merchant’s thoracic cavity. Some of it was blood, but most of it was a yellow, foul-smelling liquid comprised of putrescine and cadaverine. We tipped the carcass and collected as much of this liquor as possible. Apparently, it was the most prized nigredo for alchemy.

Prior Damek was also captivated by Maelor’s fat, which he had in abundance. His attentiveness was not just for the yellow, runny gristle that was everywhere but a soap-like organic substance known as adipocere, commonly referred to as corpse or grave wax. Adipocere develops through saponification, when the earth’s niter combines with the salt and the liquefied remains of the body, coagulating large clumps of adipose tissue into a crumbly wax that can be either white or gray. It most often appeared after a corpse had decomposed for an extended period, typically around a month. However, it could also be found in fresh remains, if one knew where to look—generally around the internal organs. Prior Damek meticulously inspected every surface, scraping away what he could find as if it were the most precious saffron. Being quite sensitive to exposure to air, he preserved the adipocere in a solution of alcohol and dill. According to Prior Damek, it was used to make candles that burned brightly with minimal smoke and were highly valued by scribes and illuminators. The remainder of Maelor’s fat had its uses too, primarily for ointments that treated bone pain, toothaches, gout, and arthritis, but this would be rendered and scooped off the vat during boiling.

The final items to collect included hair, with careful attention given to areas not exposed to sunlight. Women’s hair holds greater value, but men’s hair also has its uses—particularly since Maelor was a redhead. We then proceeded to remove his genitals. As a gentleman, I will refrain from detailing the process or the specific purpose of their collection. However, I will note that men plagued by difficulties in the bedroom often seek out tonics and elixirs in desperation.

Next, we extracted Maelor’s teeth—a tedious task that provided essential components for various charms and talismans. His tongue was removed to be dried for use in elixirs and potions, and his brain was preserved in alcohol for future study and mapping the seat of the soul. Finally, we took his eyes to extract their aqueous humor, with the lenses removed for further analysis. Some argue that the crystalline lens is the true organ of sight, while others believe the optic nerve holds the key to vision. Though this debate fascinates me, I will refrain from exploring it further for brevity.

Soon, the carcass was empty, the buckets piled with stinking offal, and Prior Damek and I covered in gore.

“We’ve completed the delicate work, Mishal. Now, it is time for some brute force. I’ll need you to hold old Maelor firm. Is that understood? I won’t be bestowing a pile of scratched bones to his bereaved wife. “

“Shall I fetch that saw?”

“No, we will disarticulate at the joints to keep the bones whole. We’ll start at his ankles and work our way up to the head, dismembering him into manageable chunks for the boil. Caleb, are you finished wasting your fine breakfast? Which you ate in abundance, I might add.”

Caleb wiped his lips and looked up from his bucket. “I think so.”

“Good, make yourself useful and go check on the state of the cauldron.”

Caleb needed no other coaxing to escape the mortuary.

Prior Damek sighed. “Your friend has a long road ahead of him. Work like this will be done daily at Thanatos. You two won’t have time to clean the blood from beneath your fingernails. He will need help to move past his revolution. Will you do that for me?”

I nodded.

“Excellent. Okay, let’s continue.”

Prior Damek and I cut Maelor’s corpse into pieces at the joints. We placed the chunks into baskets, and the brothers came to fetch them for the boil. We then washed all the organs in vinegar fragranced with sweet herbs and packed them tightly in a firkin cask with plenty of salt. The cask was sealed with pitch and made ready for storage.

I paused as I ran my finger over a branded mark on the cask.

“What is it, Mishal?”

“This is one of my father’s.”

Prior Damek rested his hand on my shoulder. “That life is behind you now, son. You are now on your way to be a great brother of the order.”

“Prior Damek, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“I saw Brother Owin last night.”

“What do you mean?”

“He tackled me when I was coming back from the latrine and held a knife to my throat.”

“What?”

“He said I ruined a good thing the brothers had going here. They planned to turn this temple into a den of profit after the abbot died.”

“I would never allow such a thing.”

“They plotted your murder, Prior Damek.”

His eyes drooped as he studied the monks milling about the cauldron. “Did he say who was involved in this plot?”

“No, only that the others dumped their coin in the latrine, fearing the abbot’s wrath.”

“Damn. Our departure may save my life, but I leave the abbot vulnerable. Well, Sigric is no fool. He will need to take care of himself, and I will tell him to be careful. Did Brother Owin say anything else?”

“Only that he’d take his profits and escape to another monastery to enact his plan.”

“And he will find one, that I have no doubt. A sickness infects the land, and our order is not immune.”“I thought he was going to kill me, but he said everyone would realize it was him. He said he would find me someday when I least expect it and exact his vengeance.”

Prior Damek let out a long breath. “Brother Owin is a strong one. Most would lay in repose for a week after a beating like that and think only of their agony. He has the energy for plots. It doesn’t matter. You’ve nothing to worry about, Mishal. I’m sure it was all talk.”

“He called me a demon.” I looked at my feet. “Maybe he’s right.”

“I won’t lie to you, Mishal. There are demons in this world. Their ranks swell day by day, but you are not one of them. Quite the contrary.”“Why did he say that, then?”

“People fear what they don’t understand. They create labels for these fears, but those labels are often inaccurate. The term ‘demon’ is one of these labels. At Thanatos, you’ll learn all about true demons and their purpose, and you’ll discover that the reality is much different from the label, but all the more terrifying.”

“Brother Owin will kill me.”

“Shush. I doubt we will meet Brother Owin again. If we do, I’ll protect you.”

“I didn’t mean for him to get punished.”

“I know Mishal, but it’s clearer now than ever that he deserved his beating. This isn’t your fault. It’s his and mine. If, by chance, we cross paths again, I’ll be sure to correct his thinking.” Prior Damek gave Maelor a gentle pat on the cheek and then placed his head, minus all the valuable bits, on top of the last basket. “We’re done here. Let’s join the others at the vat.”   

We spent the rest of the day stewing Maelor and skimming the gray foam that floated to the cauldron’s surface to prevent it from boiling over. I found this task far more detestable than butchering and would avoid it whenever possible. The gray gunk made everything greasy, and the splatter produced a horrible smoke. Worse still, the cloister filled with the aroma of cooking meat tinged with rancidity. This clarified why many brothers of Thanatos refrain from eating flesh. I never fully accepted vegetarianism, but it did make strongly scented meats, like mutton, less appetizing.

After six hours, Maelor’s flesh was well-stewed and separated from the bones. They rattled about the cauldron as the brothers fished them out with a slotted spoon. We then scraped away the stubborn bits before letting the skeleton dry by a separate fire. The cauldron was left to cool so the fat would congeal for easy harvesting the next day. The lard would then be cut into chunks, wrapped in wax paper, and stored in the dormitory’s basement with the other perishables. As for the wine, much to my disgust, it would be bottled and sold as tonic to those desperate for a cure.

By dusk, the bones were set to be rubbed with wine infused with herbs and spices, tightly wrapped in the perfumed red fabric typical of the traveling brothers, and secured to a sturdy frame for transport. We gathered our provisions and supplies, enjoyed a quick dinner (meat-free), and then went to bed early. Our ship would depart before sunrise, and our long journey to Thanatos would finally commence.

Before lights out, Prior Damek again visited Caleb and me. He handed me a linen shirt that was much heavier than it first appeared.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“The profits after selling your home and the ten gold pieces that would have gone to your parents. I’ve taken the liberty of sowing the coins into the fabric of that shirt.”

“Why?”

“It’s a small fortune, Mishal, and we are about to embark on a long journey. I don’t want you to lose it. We may encounter bandits, rogues, and toll collectors on the road. Most will leave us alone, thinking we are poor monks, but you never know. The silver and gold are heavy and will be easier to carry if distributed evenly.”

“Thank you.”

“It is not as much as it should be, I’m afraid, but we were in a rush and had to sell your home and your family’s belongings cheapy.”

“I understand.”

“Do not tell anyone you have it,” Prior Damek eyeballed Caleb. “You, too. There is enough there to forfeit all our lives. Is that understood?”

We both nodded.

“Good. It’s time for lights out. I understand your excitement may make sleeping difficult, but try. We have long days ahead.”