Fronisi
The soldiers, Terrim and Scalt, shackled Jack and Bowie’s hands behind their backs and escorted them at spear point. Part of their journey led them through a patch of dense forest filled with soaring green-hued trees. The boys were soaking wet, banged up and generally miserable. On the bright side, they were also hungry and thirsty.
As they entered the clearing, they saw a compound surrounded by a wall comprised of thick gray cubes of granite. Towering above the wall was the top of a structure glistening in iridescent splendor. Jack ventured to ask, “Sir, what is this place?”
Terrim laughed. “Fronisi, lad! Come now, the spy doesn’t know the name of the place he’s spying on? Perhaps you’d like me to believe you just dropped out of the sky.”
“If the shoes fits,” Bowie said under his breath.
“I’m not a spy! We’re not spies!” pleaded Jack.
“Granted, spies don’t usually like to stand out and those garments you’re wearing are rather conspicuous!” conceded Scalt
“We’re not spies!” protested Jack.
“Where did you come from then?” asked Scalt.
Jack thought for a moment. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m sure it is,” replied Scalt amusedly. “He pointed his spear at Bowie and remarked to Terrim, “He’s from Laidir for sure.”
“Where’s Laidir?” Bowie asked sincerely.
The soldiers looked at each other and shared a laugh as if Bowie was trying to pull a fast one on them.
“You’re both very amusing. It’s a shame you’ll be executed,” commented Scalt.
“Executed? For what?” asked Bowie.
“For spying! Haven’t you been following the conversation?” said Jack annoyed.
“But we’re not spies!” replied Bowie.
The soldiers laughed to the point of crying. After a minute or two of comic relief, Terrim chuckled out, “I must thank you both. I haven’t laughed like that in quite a while.”
Scalt wiped a tear from his eye. “Very true. They deserve a quick death as a reward.”
“Very kind of you,” said Bowie, “but what about the possibility of not executing us?”
The soldiers laughed again. Scalt almost fell off his horse. “Stop, I can’t take it anymore! My armor’s starting to rust!”
Jack whispered to Bowie, “You’re a real comedian.”
“Hey, if you’re going to die, leave ‘em laughing, I’ve always said!”
“Oh, you’ve always said that?” questioned Jack.
“I’ve always said that!” said Bowie. “This just may be the last time is all.”
Despite how dire their situation was, Jack couldn’t help but admire Bowie’s humor under fire.
The boys were escorted to the front gate of the compound. The gate was quite impressive, crafted from thick, carved slats of the green-hued wood. Archers and other soldiers stood at the ready as the escort entered the courtyard. On the opposite side of the courtyard was another gate equally impenetrable. The courtyard was designed to create a bottleneck and confine an attack should assailants ever manage to get through the first gate. With no cover, they would face a barrage of arrows and other projectiles from above.
Once the first gate was secured, the second gate was raised, opening to the compound proper. In the middle stood a shrine built from opalescent rock called auroris. More soldiers on horseback joined the escort. Jack felt like they were America’s most wanted, or most wanted wherever they were. “Who are they and where did they get those funny clothes?” one of the guards asked Terrim.
“We don’t know yet,” answered Terrim, “but the cocky one there sounds Laidirian.”
“Take off these cuffs and I’ll show you cocky,” responded Bowie.
“He’s definitely got the accent and the temperament!” said the guard.
Jack’s mind was racing as to what to say to these people. He had no idea who they were or whether they were friends or foes. If he made up a story and they suspected as much, he and Bowie could be put to death right away. Even if their captors believed a concocted story, Jack wasn’t sure what story he should tell. Also, he didn’t know what Bowie would say if they were questioned separately. They hadn’t really rehearsed any of it—being escorted at spear point from the moment they arrived didn’t allow much of an opportunity to make a plan.
Guards stood apart every twenty feet or so along the wall, many with bows and nocked arrows aimed at the two boys. The entire garrison was on high alert for the arrival of the spies.
Walking through the courtyard, the boys observed many other buildings, shops and living quarters to support the community but none compared to the beauty of the shrine with its articulated architectural elements and intricately carved surfaces. Both Jack and Bowie were mesmerized by the shrine’s large jade doors encrusted with emeralds.
“Are we going in there?” asked Bowie.
“Yes,” replied Scalt. “The shrine is a place of sacredness. Master Lumens insists all trials be conducted where the energies of truth are cultivated.”
“Tried?” questioned Jack. “May we speak to Master Lumens?”
“You may not,” said Scalt curtly but then softened. “Which is unfortunate because he has a way of getting to the truth without the ‘usual’ methods.” Jack didn’t like the euphemistic application of the word “usual.”
“Will we be imprisoned until our trial?” asked Jack.
Terrim chimed in, “Sorry, but no. If it was an ordinary crime, you would be confined until speaking with Master Lumens. But with espionage, we are a bit more strict—we conduct the trial as soon as possible then proceed with torture and execution.”
“That is a bit strict,” affirmed Bowie.
“Rest assured, you will receive justice first,” said Terrim. “Magistrate Morsus is sitting court today.”
Bowie turned to Scalt and asked, “Nice guy, this Morsus?”
Scalt vigorously shook his head in the negative. “His wife was killed by a spy.”
Bowie had an inspired thought, “Let me guess, a Laidirian spy?”
“I’m afraid so,” answered Scalt.
Jack glared at Terrim. “So when you said we’d have justice first, what exactly did you mean?”
Terrim looked remorseful. “I was just being polite.”
Inside the shrine stood a dozen guards but many more people who were engaged in various types of mediation. A group of nine men wearing tall golden conical sikke hats and tennure skirts were whirling, a type of meditation in which one “whirls” in a counter-clockwise direction to center the self and experience new levels of consciousness. In one corner, a woman chanted a gibberish song, very similar to the chant his grandmother sang in Maine. The words had a chime-like quality:
Chu-gonna-got-ta-ting
Fing-fa-dela-dod-de-neara
Shing-tada-tong-det-ting
Bey-fa-de-la-det-de-dora
Next to her sat a man with an ucchai, a type of instrument resembling a silver pen. It had an emerald-colored tip and narrow cylindrical base with a fluted opening at the other end. The man stuck the tip of the ucchai into a nautilus shell and told the woman to repeat the chant. He then took a ravna, an instrument identical to the ucchai but with a ruby red tip and placed it into the shell, then put his ear to the fluted end and listened for several seconds. “Good,” he said. Jack surmised that must have been the way his message was embedded in the shell.
The hall featured many statues and other great works of art. One statue carved from marble stood out. It was a depiction of a Centaur, the mythical half man/half horse creature driving its spear into the flank of a chimera, another mythical creature purported to have the head of a lion, the body of a goat and the tail of a serpent.
Toward the back of the hall stood a curved table with a dour man sitting smack dab in the middle, Magistrate Morsus. He wore dark gray robes and a hat that looked like a cross between a turnip and smashed pumpkin. Morsus was middle-aged with a muscular build and short-cropped auburn hair. His fierce brown eyes and scarred complexion suggested he was no stranger to combat. He was flanked by two men at the table. The man on his right was a scribe. The man of his left served solely as a figurehead of menace.
Terrim and Scalt presented the boys, then pushed them to their knees in submission. Magistrate Morsus slowly approached them. “So, it appears we have some visitors among us today,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
“Yes, sir? So polite,” the magistrate said condescendingly.
“Magistrate, we found them on the southern slope,” offered Scalt. “We were patrolling the area for most of the morning. For spies to penetrate that far without being detected took some skill. They were soaking wet when we found them. They may have used one of the tributaries for cover.”
Magistrate Morsus raised an eyebrow. “Are you spies?”
The boys shook their heads no.
“Of course not,” said the magistrate. “You’re traveling minstrels from Fens looking for the next show. Or maybe you’re chimera hunters from Kentauros who got lost. Or perhaps you’re emissaries from Andaar!”
Bowie couldn’t take it anymore. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but we’re not spies!”
Scalt raised his arm to backhand Bowie in the face but Morsus motioned him to stand down.
“You sound like a Laidirian,” remarked the magistrate.
“I get a lot of that,” said Bowie.
Morsus yelled explosively, silencing the hall. “My wife was killed by a Laidirian spy!”
Jack shook his head in resignation. “We know.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Bowie threw in unconvincingly.
Morsus regained his composure, then paced back and forth at a controlled cadence. “What are your names?”
“I’m Jack and he’s Bowie.”
“Where did they get names like that?” asked the scribe.
“Probably from the same place they got those clothes!” said the figurehead of menace. His comment set off a round of laughter in the chamber.
Magistrate Morsus allowed it for a bit before motioning everyone to cease and desist with the slightest lift of his index finger. “Jack. Bowie. Is there anything you’d like to say before I have you tortured and put to death? Mind you, the quicker you talk, the less painful your life, and death, will be.”
“That’s very kind of you,” said Jack desperately hoping they would be spared. No such luck.
“It’s my generous nature,” answered Morsus.
“What about a trial?” asked Bowie.
Morsus smiled playfully. “Oh, well, that was it! Fast, isn’t it?” Morsus motioned the guards to escort the spies to the torture chamber.
Jack was paralyzed with fear. After all he and Bowie had been through, he couldn’t believe this was their fate. Jack wished he had smashed the nautilus shell the second his grandmother had given it to him. Nautilus shell … Jack looked over at the man with the nautilus shell holding a pen-like instrument gently inserted into the opening as the lady next to him began chanting.
“Magistrate,” Jack motioned to the man and woman. “I was given a shell like that one from my grandmother and it delivered a message to me. It’s the reason we’re here,” he said as a last-ditch effort to preserve their lives. He had nothing to lose at that point.
“And who pray tell is your grandmother?” asked Morsus.
“Her name was Devova,” responded Jack.
A few of the guards looked at each other and for a split-second the magistrate’s poker face leaked a hint of surprise. “Do you have the shell with you?”
Jack remembered he had secured the nautilus shell in the cabin of the Atlantis Pearl. “No, Sir.”
“That’s a pity,” said Morsus. He turned to Scalt. “I don’t know where they got such detailed information, but make sure you find out!”
“Yes, Magistrate!” confirmed Scalt. The guards grabbed the boys to remove them from the shrine.
Goaded by Gram Devova’s memory, Jack recited her chant, though he had no idea what the sounds or words meant.
Ging-de-lot-dot-de-dig
Fung-hey-dey-lot-de-dot-dora
Shung-gonna-fot-te-zing
Fong-bay-te-le-dot-de-vova
Grare-te-lot-don-fu-te
Ang-wan-bay-la-taun-vay-fuega
Lom-gonna-zot-she-tang
Gome-ply-werti-som-sot-sora
The chant echoed throughout the entirety of the shrine. The whirlers stopped whirling and the room fell silent once again as Jack continued the chant. Morsus looked like he had seen a ghost. When Jack finished, Morsus addressed the man holding the shell with the ucchai inserted into it. “Azru, did you record that?”
Azru was confused for a moment and then realized he was holding the ucchai in position. “Let me check, Magistrate.” He set the ucchai down and pulled out the ravna, inserted it into the shell, put his ear by the fluted end and listened intently.
“Maybe we can get you on Fronisi’s Got Talent,” Bowie said to Jack sotto voce.
Azru looked up at Morsus with tears in his eyes, “By the Beyond, he is Devova’s grandson.”
“Everyone out, now!” commanded Morsus as he grabbed Scalt’s arm. “Summon Master Lumens at once!”
***
Master Lumens arrived about an hour later, clad in a purple robe embroidered with gold scrolling. Appearing to be in his seventies, he was tall of stature and lean. He face was gaunt with a well-manicured white goatee and intense green eyes possessing an amalgam of warmth and sadness. He studied the two boys for a moment before saying, “Magistrate Morsus, please remove their bonds. They’re our guests and most welcomed here.” Morsus hurriedly took out a key and remove their shackles.
“Thank you, sir,” said Bowie and instinctively bowed to Master Lumens.
“You are quite welcome, Bowie,” he said as he returned the bow.
Master Lumens stood before Jack, taking him in. Jack couldn’t read his expression until Lumens revealed the slightest smile. “Jack,” was all he said. Lumens addressed both boys. “Please accept my apologies. I hope you weren’t mistreated in any way.”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly a picnic, but they didn’t smack us around too much!” said Bowie.
“They were going to torture us and have us executed!” Jack reminded him.
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that part!” said Bowie.
Master Lumens raised an eyebrow at Morsus who lowered his head in shame. Lumens continued, “We weren’t quite sure how you would arrive.”
“You were expecting us?” wondered Jack.
“In a manner of speaking,” said Lumens. “It’s rather complicated.”
“Maybe we could talk about it over dinner? You do have dinner here, don’t you?” said Bowie, not-so-subtly conveying the notion that a good meal would be welcomed after being shipwrecked, shackled and almost tortured and executed.
Master Lumens nodded. “Yes, we have dinner here. And I think that’s an excellent idea.” He turned to Morsus. “Would you show our guests to their lodging?”
“Of course, Master Lumens,” answered Morsus.
Master Lumens turned to the boys. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in and then we’ll reconvene over the evening meal.” They thanked him. Master Lumens turned to exit, then paused and faced the boys. “I am most pleased to have you both here. Most pleased.”
Morsus led the boys to a room within the shrine itself. Inside the room were two beds on either side and a large open window looking out into a tranquil garden illuminated by the sun shining through the open roof. The walls of the room were also carved from auroris which gave the dwelling an iridescent glimmer.
The room was furnished modestly but the bedding was quite plush. A small doorway opened to the adjoining bathroom. The bathroom sink was actually a sea-shell encrusted trough with a constant stream of water running into it on one end and draining from the other. There was also a toilet with the same fill-and-drain design, nothing to flush. There was no shower but rather a tub as large as a Jacuzzi, also with the same fill-and-drain design.
Morsus explained that a natural hot spring ran underground and they utilized the “plumbing” accordingly. He uncomfortably pointed to the commode with a stack of furry-looking leaves next to it. “I trust you know what that whole set-up is for?”
Jack rightfully assumed it was a Fronisi toilet and bathroom tissue. “We do,” he assured him.
Morsus looked relieved. “Thank the Beyond.” He bid them ado and left them to bathe and rest.
The warm natural spring water soothed their aches and pains. After a good soak, they dried off and came back out to their beds where folded clothes and boots awaited them. The undergarments were soft but not what you would call “form fitting.” The brown tunics were thick and comfortable. There were no socks but the boots reminded them of Uggs, suede on the outside with animal-fur lining on the inside.
After an hour or so had passed, Morsus returned and escorted them to a quaint dining area where Master Lumens sat in waiting. He stood upon their arrival. He brought his palms together and touched the tips of his index fingers to his forehead.
“You both looked refreshed,” he said. “Please, have a seat.”
Morsus exited as serving people came in with a variety of sumptuous dishes. Jack and Bowie’s mouths started to water.
Bowie looked at Master Lumens to cue him if it was all right to dig in. Lumens caught on. “Help yourselves! You must be famished after the day’s events.”
Jack and Bowie tried not to stuff food in their faces, but it was as challenging as not thinking about pink elephants when someone says not to think about pink elephants. “Ez goocht,” Bowie said thorough a mouthful of food.
Master Lumens interpreted for Bowie. “It’s good? Yes, indeed.”
Lumens let the boys eat for a few minutes without speaking. Jack noticed a map on the wall. The land mass pictured looked exactly like Atlantis which he was all too familiar with. It should have been more obvious, but then it hit Jack like a ton of bricks. “Are we in Atlantis?”
“Yes,” Lumens calmly replied.
“You mean like the lost continent of Atlantis?” asked Bowie.
Apparently, you found it,” said Lumens. Jack’s heart raced. They were in Atlantis! Maybe he was hallucinating—but as hallucinations went, this one was going on far too long.
“Why are we here?” asked Jack.
“There is no short answer to your question,” said Lumens.
“We’re all ears,” said Bowie.
“What?” Lumens looked confused.
“It’s an expression where we come from,” said Bowie. “It means we’re paying attention and you don’t need to rush the answer.”
“Lumens looked amused. “It will suffice to say you are both here for a special purpose.”
“Both? But the shell only spoke to Jack,” said Bowie.
“And Jack spoke to you,” said Lumens.
“My grandmother said there was much at stake,” said Jack.
“That is true, but it does not all rest on your shoulders,” offered Lumens. “First things first, let me tell you a little bit about Atlantis.”