The Lead Crown: Ch 1b, Martyrdumb
Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 1, Martyr Dumb
Friar Arlowe offered his most welcoming smile as he was joined in the small holding room by a now-familiar face. "Good morrow, Inquisitor."
"I have met few raccoon dogs in my time as Inquisitor," the black dragon noted, taking a seat across from the monk at the small table, "Tell me, Friar... do the rest of your kind smile as freely as you?"
The aging monk continued smiling, "Truly?" he put as much good-natured mirth into his voice as possible considering the scowling, scaled face staring at him, "There are a good number of my people on the east side of town... just north of the dock divide."
"I rarely have business that keeps me near the docks for long." Inquisitor Ignus replied simply, "And I am too busy to waste away my time with the lost souls of the street."
Friar Arlowe laced his fingers together in front of him on the table as his smile slowly faded, "It is God's will that we speak to everyone, Inquisitor... perhaps you might consider spending a day preaching there-- your views may be enlightened as much if not more so than those to whom you speak."
"It is not my place to preach, Monk..." the dragon's eyes narrowed dangerously, "any more than it is yours."
"Ah..." and the raccoon-dog leaned back in his chair, "And now we come to the purpose of this meeting."
The dragon straightened up in his seat even as the monk relaxed. The Inquisitor adjusted the thin silver headband he wore, the symbol of his office. Although the scriptures spoke of the office of Inquisitor, Friar Arlowe had never actually encountered anything in any of the holy books that dictated a symbol of office... but each Inquisitor the monk had ever met always wore their cat's eye circlet prominently, as if proudly displaying a badge. "Why do you preach, Friar?" Inquisitor Ignus inquired in a surprisingly casual tone.
"Because God's love should be able to reach everyone, at all times." he responded calmly.
"And yet you are neither a priest nor a cleric, and have no sanction to speak to the common people on the ways of God." the dragon began scribing notes down on a scroll. The words were written in Mehnzilian, a language kept with racial secrecy by the Dragons. Having served the church for over two decades, Friar Arlowe himself scarcely knew more than a few words... and very few of its written symbols.
"I was unaware that it was a crime to tell others of one's love for the Divine Father." the raccoon dog answered with a smirk. They both knew that he realized what the Inquisitor was getting at, but he didn't mind making the dragon work for it.
"You confuse your own opinions with the word of God." the Inquisitor scowled.
"Well..." the raccoon dog offered calmly, "I'm certain I'm not the first."
The dragon's scowl deepened so severely that the raccoon dog thought, for a moment, that the Inquisitor was in danger of breaking one of the bones in his snout with the expression, and Inquisitor Ignus' next words were spoken with severity, "Be warned; you tread on dangerous ground... Monk."
Friar Arlowe folded his paws together on the table once again, and recited a passage from scripture, "...and though I may walk where angels fear to tread, you guide me in all things. I shall take comfort in knowing that I will never--" his words were interrupted as the Inquisitor reached across the table and backhanded him.
It was a casual blow, without any extreme force behind it... but its message was clear. Even if it was not, however, Inquisitor Ignus calmly added, "Consider your next words carefully, Friar Arlowe... the Church has begun an inquest regarding your impropriety, and--"
"I shall take comfort in knowing that I will never step wrongly if I follow ever in your path." the raccoon dog watched calmly as the dragon folded the scroll and headed to the door.
"You are free to walk about the Church grounds, Friar Arlowe... but do not leave." and, with that, the Inquisitor exited.
"Amen." the monk finished his recitation, and stood, walking casually out of the room.
It was a beautiful, sunny day and, if not for the inquest the Church had called into the monk's dealings, he would have considered it perfect. Unfortunately for him, however, the "powers that be" were other than the divine power, which meant that he was forced to answer to the temporal masters of the Church. And when it came to the masters of the church, that meant one thing: Dragons.
It wasn't that he despised the Dragons, rather, he held a great dislike for the way they chose to run the divine organization. Their decision to make it into a political power was against the teachings... and against the word of God. He was readily willing to explain where they went wrong... after all, as it was said in the Book of--
"Friar Arlowe!" the raccoon dog's musings were interrupted by Brother Rhys, a down-to-earth, if excitable rat. The short, plump priest made his way toward him, a paw up to gather his attention, "I had heard you were--"
"I had never thought you one to subscribe to the rumor mill, Brother Rhys." the monk offered a warm smile, holding out a paw to the man.
The white rat accepted it as they clasped one another's wrists in greeting, "You're bleeding." the priest noted, not smiling back.
Friar Arlowe raised a paw and blotted the side of his muzzle, drawing his fingers back to take note of a few droplets of blood at the tips, "Hmm... well I suppose I am." and he casually wiped his fingers off on his robe, "It has been said that those things most worth doing are paid for in sweat and blood and tears." he offered the rodent another reassuring smile.
"Friar.." the rat offered with concern, "the Church--" but the monk reached out a hand and placed it on Brother Rhys' shoulder.
"The Church will do what it does, Brother." Friar Arlowe responded, patting him once before withdrawing, "I have no control over the Church... only myself."
"Do not continue down this path..." the priest requested, "you mean a lot to many of us here, Friar."
"All the more reason why I cannot stop." the raccoon dog offered with a nod of his head, "There are too many wrongs that cannot be allowed to continue."
"You're speaking AGAINST the Church!" the rat objected.
"No..." the monk countered, slowly turning away, "I am speaking for God." he let out a sigh, and started walking off down the hall, "it has been a pleasure knowing you, Rhys." and he left the priest standing alone.
* * * * *
The Church did not move quickly in many things, and an inquest, unless suffering from time constraints, was one of them. In the case of Friar Arlowe, it was apparent that his superiors in the church did not consider him as much of a threat as they were letting on, as he didn't hear from the Inquisitors at any time during the next two days. When finally he did, it was in the form of a simple note, requesting his presence in the dialogue room that night... which left him several more hours to handle his own affairs; he put the extra time to good use.
Friar Arlowe often found his way into the Church's garden, an open area within the building that served as a courtyard of sorts. All around it the hallways cross-crossed beneath wooden eaves, but in the garden itself, the ceiling opened up to provide a clear view of the sky, unsullied by any glimpse of steeple, roof, or tower. In addition to the quiet time for reflection, however, it also happened to be located near the exact center of the Church structure, which meant, at some point, almost everyone passed by.
"In the mountains may be one thing, but how is it cooked differently on the coast?" came an inquiring question from the left. Friar Arlowe glanced that way, remaining otherwise at ease as he saw two young university students making their way down one of the side halls. The speaker, a raccoon dog like himself, had his full attention on the other young man, a fox/raccoon.
"It isn't." the mixed-breed replied, "They're herbs... not chemicals."
"Come on, Vic; the laws of alchemy apply to more than--" the raccoon-dog objected, but was interrupted.
"Herbs follow water science more than fire science, Cruff." the fox-coon countered, punching him in the shoulder.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Friar Arlowe spoke up, getting their attention immediately. Both cleared their throats, taking a half-step away from one another so as not to appear unseemly; the monk was well aware that they were more than classmates, but he wasn't about to discuss it... not where others could have heard. "I trust studies are going well?"
"Yes, sir... really good, sir." Vic, the mixed-breed responded, "Just... studying with Cruff, here." he back so that his fellow student would be in the forefront; University students were not often allowed free passage through the Church's inner halls, but theirs was an exceptional case.
"You won't be late for prayer tonight, will you, Cruffington?" the monk inquired of the fellow raccoon dog.
"No, sir!" Cruff responded emphatically, "Studying is important, but I'm not going to miss prayer for it."
"Good man..." the monk nodded with a smile, "Good man."
"Lead on." Vic noted, giving the young raccoon dog a light elbow, "We can relax a bit before studying... you can show me your organ." Cruff almost tripped over himself at the fox/coon's choice of words, and quickly shot a glance back toward the monk. Cruff had a great love of music, but they both knew that the mixed-breed wasn't talking about an instrument.
Although Cruff had done a relatively decent job of hiding his pragmatic approach to "private past times", Friar Arlowe had discovered the young raccoon dog's acceptance of male partners early on in his time at the Church. Cruff knew that Friar was aware of it, and the two had talked at length. "You are accountable for your own life." the monk had told him, "It is not my place to judge." and they had left it at that. In response to the glance, Friar Arlowe simply smiled, and went back to contemplating the sky... and Cruff.
The young disciple was the only other member of the monk's species to join the Newport congregation of the Church; most of the raccoon dogs in the city were from the lower class and either prayed only during special occasions, or kept their own beliefs of God to themselves; he didn't fault them for it and, in truth, he respected the dedication of those who could maintain their piety without the never-ending gaze of the Church following them everywhere. He himself had come from that district... but that felt like another life.
"Father?" the soft-but-insistent voice pulled him out of his musings, "Father Arlowe?" the feminine voice drew his attention to Sister Aurelie, who had apparently joined him in the garden during his meditation. The young cat was seated nearby, legs folded beneath her as she rested on a hip.
"Friar, Allie. It's FRIAR Arlowe." he corrected her, "Monks are referred to as 'Friar' in Lehsunia."
"Oh.. of course." the cat acknowledged, the faintest hint of a blush came to her ears, "I sometimes still forget." the words came freely from her, smoothly laid out with her almost musical eastern accent, and devoid of any embarrassment; ever since the monk had first met her he had always had the impression that Aurelie was eager to learn, and her willingness to accept critique and correction further reinforced that.
"Are you joining me in meditation?" he inquired with a patient smile.
"I am here to ask you to reconsider." she noted plainly, pressing her hands together beneath her muzzle plaintively, "I spoke with the Sisterhood and they are confident that they can petition for you to gain a preacher's status... it'll just take a little time and--"
"No." he countered, "Thank you, Sister Aurelie, but I cannot accept that charity."
"But your words deserve to be heard." she objected.
"Perhaps..." the raccoon dog acknowledged, "But that isn't for you to decide."
She nodded, eyes downcast, "I know, Friar... it's for the church to decide."
Friar Arlowe laughed, "No, child... it isn't!" He glanced to her as she cocked her head to the side, ears up.
"What do you mean?" the cat asked.
"That is the entire point, Allie..." he reached out and took one of her paws, "The word of God is not bound to the Church... it should be seeking to SPREAD His word, not keep it for themselves. There should be no sanction on who may or may not spread His love."
"But... the Church--" she began, but he cut her off again.
"The Church came to be because it was God's will, Allie..." he patted her paw and then let it go, "The day the Church turns to its OWN will to continue its existence is the day that it has failed in its mission to Him." the raccoon-dog stood.
"How can you know when that is the case?" she asked, looking up at him as she remained on the rock where she sat.
"Know?" he smiled warmly, "You can't... but sometimes you have to use this--" he pointed to his chest, "and not this." he motioned to his head, "Otherwise you will never be able to hear Him... for God does not speak to us through our ears." He slid his paw into his pocket, and pulled out a small collection of beads on a string, and held it out to the young cat, "Here." She accepted the beaded bracelet in astonishment, and he knew she recognized it, "It's from a friend." he added.
"You...." she paused, switching her gaze from it to him, "You were in the Wild Lands..."
"I was." he acknowledged, and headed off toward the hallway bordering the garden.
"Friar Arlowe?" Sister Aurelie called.
"Yes, child?" he stopped, but didn't turn around.
How do you believe God speak to us?" the cat asked softly; he heard her slide the bracelet into her pocket.
"The Church has told you that a hundred times, Allie..." he responded neutrally, "Why do you ask me now?"
She fell silent for a moment, and he had just started another step forward when she finally spoke, "I..." but she let the word hang in the air several seconds before he realized she wasn't going to continue her response.
"In that moment before you were going to say something..." he smiled to himself, "I think you may have found your own answer." and, with that, he left the young cat alone to her own musings; he had an important meeting with the Inquisitors.