Welcome once again to the next installment of Silvanus and Empire! In our last chapter, we met the fiery Lyrinn, a Wildfolk girl raised apart from her "savage" brethren. She gave directions to Caddoc, but not before engaging in a battle of wits with the poor fellow! Today we'll get to meet Oren, Caddoc's new mentor.

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Silvanus and Empire

Chapter Three

image from WallDevil

The Holy Empire of Jhosin was young, as empires go; one hundred thirty-five years ago, His Exalted Holiness Jhosin I ascended the throne of the port city of Shiel after five years of bloody civil war, promptly renamed it Imperial City, and, after a fifteen year crusade to unify the provinces to its south and east, settled down to rule uncontested for a hundred years. In that time the Empire thrived and grew strong - few countries in the Western Lands had not had dealings with His Holiness and his fledgling Empire. Fewer still refrained from sending tribute to the self-styled Divine Theurgist in the interests of Good Diplomatic Relations - the countries that chose not to were soon overrun with well-armed hordes of pilgrims and priests zealously espousing the virtues inherent in the One True Way. Over the years, Imperial City's coffers grew fat from riches sent to it from hundreds of leagues in every direction, and a small army of tithesmen and scribes had been formed to keep careful track of the goods and services rendered up unto the Exalted One's throne in exchange for the privilege of basking in His wisdom. Safeguarding and cataloging the records of such transactions were important tasks, and it required a keen mind and exacting attention to detail; the Order of Imperial Scribners soon became invaluable to His Holiness.

This is what Oren told himself every morning as he rose from his straw pallet in the drafty alcove of Imperial Record Depository Seventeen in the town of Annex. For three and twenty winters had he toiled in the stacks of logbooks and scrolls of the Depository, checking that local quotas had been filled every harvest season and the correct quantities had been transported to the appropriate offices back west.

Today was different, however, and for the first time in nearly a decade Scribe Oren was smiling. His salvation had come at last in the form of a message scroll, borne by the bedraggled young man now before him. He re-read the paragraph that had set him grinning:

By general decree of His Holiness Jhosin I and the Order of Imperial Scribners, you are hereby assigned to recommence general duties in Imperial City immediately upon proper indoctrination of your replacement, 3rd Apprentice Scribe Caddoc Bell.

Oren lifted his eyes from the message scroll and regarded Caddoc myopically. Young, strong, and healthy-looking - if he has but a fraction of my own prodigious wits I will be on the Cliffway before the next moon! "Well then," he said crisply, "tie up your pack mule outside and we'll get you settled, eh Apprentice?"

Caddoc nodded and opened his mouth, but Oren didn't even pause. "You will be quite at home here," the older scribe went on, turning about and motioning Caddoc to follow. The young man hurriedly tied his mule to the hitching post outside and hurried to catch up to Oren, who had swept inside the Depository without waiting to see if Caddoc was following.

The Depository itself was an ancient barn that creaked and swayed in the wind. Cold and mildewy, it was bare but for great stacks of cubbyholes stuffed with yellowing vellum scrolls. Most were covered over with fetid-smelling oilcloths to keep out the water that constantly dripped from the poorly-thatched roof. The roughly laid stone floor was littered with dirty straw, and against the far wall was a rickety, ink-stained desk and chair. Directly above the desk was the sole window, unglazed but hung with creaking shutters. Through the window a muddy scrap of a vegetable garden, teeming with weeds, could be seen. To the right of the window and set in a corner was a stone trough choked with debris, fed by a chute that led up and disappeared into the dim rafters. Beyond that, a greasy tallow candle guttered in an alcove, revealing Oren's makeshift living quarters.

"As you can see, I've kept the Depository in remarkable good repair," Oren said proudly. "Oh, you should have seen the sorry state it was in when I first arrived here! It wasn't easy, setting this place to sorts, but the resourcefulness of a scribe in a tight pinch simply cannot be discounted."

Caddoc was silent behind him. Poor wretch, Oren thought. He's obviously in awe of the magnitude of the task before him. I must give him the benefit of the wisdom I have gathered here myself. He clapped the young scribe on the shoulder fraternally. "Worry not, my inexperienced friend, I'll not leave you here in this savage country before preparing you for any eventuality!" Or before a fortnight, whichever comes first.

"Oh, I don't know, Scribe Oren, the local gentry seem friendly enough, if a bit rustic. Why, the young Bloodhair girl that I first--"

Oren turned towards Caddoc. "Bloodhair girl? Ah, so your first moment within Annex and already are you accosted by heathen wickedness! Oh, my boy, it is an ill omen that you met that Silvani. Her kind have ever been a plague upon this valley." Oren could see his words had affected the young man deeply; Caddoc had fallen silent, doubtlessly already learning from the deep wisdom the older scribe had to impart. "It is best if you dally no more with such unnatural folk."

Caddoc looked troubled. "Begging your pardon, Scribe Oren, but she seemed perfectly natural for a young country lass. Yes, I noticed her hair straightaway and knew it to be a sign of Wild Folk heritage, but --"

"Yes, yes. Bloodhair you named them, and rightly so, for their minds are as bloody as their hearts are black, my boy."

"But Scribe Oren, the last Silvani Uprising was a hundred years ago! Surely not all descendants of the tribes that were in this area are as demonic as their forebears were alleged to be? Does not five generations gentle a bloodline at least in part?"

Oren shook his head sadly. "My boy, I see now that while the Imperial City scholars have sharpened your mind as well as they could, they cannot possibly impart to you the practical knowledge I have gained by living amongst the people here these past twenty years. Trust in my wisdom, Apprentice; you shall readily see how valuable it can be."

Caddoc regarded Oren for a long moment. Such introspection in this young one, he thought. My cautioning will certainly not go unheeded! "Very well, Scribe Oren," Caddoc said finally, nodding. "I shall consider your words with as much, uh, solemn sincerity as they deserve."

"Splendid, my boy, splendid!" Oren beamed. "Now, come along, I have much to show you." As he turned around and strode deeper into the Depository, he didn't see young Caddoc roll his eyes at him.

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