Discworld and Member Articles
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Written by TheJackal
Sunday, 28 August 2005 |
Brother Parthas, Mediator Number 160, sniffled slightly in the cold. The freezing night’s air had surprised him somewhat upon leaving Parlay City. He currently stood at the edge of Grunhime Forest, in which the portal resided for transporting Mediators from their world into the Druids’ Realm of Mortals.
Parthas barked out some orders, taking his anger out on his troops. It had not been a good day at all, yet it had started off with such promise…
Parthas currently stood as the sixth highest-ranking Mediator in the Order and so resided on the table of the Elite Ten. It had taken him centuries to get there and Parthas had high hopes for the future. These hopes had included him leading the task force that would dispose of the Rogue currently roaming the Mortal Realms. But that honour had been granted to Brother Troy, who was the more senior ranking of the two. Parthas had been furious when he heard the decision and had gone home early so as not to give Troy the satisfaction of seeing his envy of the man.
Parthas was summoned later, in the middle of the night, to go search for a fellow Mediator who had gone AWOL. Although he knew the importance of the absconder in question, who apparently had been jointly responsible for letting the Rogue on the loose, Parthas held no solace in the fact that he would be bringing this man to justice. He regarded his task as being the runner-up prize and Parthas was not fond of silver medals.
But tired and cold as he was, Parthas would accomplish his mission. He was to bring the Brother back alive, if possible; if not, then he was to present the Brother’s head to Rubeus.
Back in Parlay City, Brother Polix was deeply troubled. He knew what he had to do but was reluctant nevertheless. Polix was a clever man. You didn’t avoid assassination for as long as he had without being wise and ‘street smart’. When he discovered the two Brothers’ cover-up, he had immediately known the consequences. One could not simply run away from the Order, as the foolish and naïve Brother Stevens had done. They would be found sooner or later.
No, a totally opposite course of action had to be taken. Polix had no doubt that Brother Rubeus would find out which Brothers had failed their task all those years ago. None could escape retribution. Unless perhaps, if he took the necessary step…
Polix walked slowly down the hall, towards the Grand Master’s study. He thought of many things: of how he might never see his beloved family and friends again; of all the things that Polix had sworn he’d do some day but somehow had never found the time for.
Polix gazed out upon the Inner Sanctum with tears in his eyes. The Inner Sanctum was where all Mediators lived who had taken the Cleaning Ritual, an extra vow of celibacy. It also meant that they could never marry. Those rare individuals who undertook the Cleansing received the extra title of ‘Brother Reverent’ and were regarded as the most superior of all the Brothers. This was because their lives could span over a millennia and after the first few hundred years of taking the vow, your stamina was bound to be tested to its fullest.
In Polix’s younger days, when he was only in his 160s, he had given some serious thought towards becoming one of the Brother Reverents and claiming the deep respect that came with it. But time had brought with it the overwhelming attraction of the opposite sex, and a millennium of celibacy didn’t have the same appeal that it once had.
Polix wondered what he would have done then, if faced with the circumstances he now found himself in. He probably would have run, like Ron.
Polix shook his head in dismay. There would be no running away from his fate. He rehearsed the confession he was going to make over and over again in his head. Honesty was the only thing that could save him now. Polix sincerely hoped that the mitigating circumstances involved would save his neck. His home had caught fire that day. Everyone knew that. What else could a father do upon hearing such a thing, besides returning home as quick as the wind? His family had only just escaped in time…
But another thought niggled in the back of his mind, stepping forward every now and then: Brother Rubeus was not a readily forgiving person. And Polix had not checked to make sure the Brothers under his command had completed the Job satisfactorily. If Mediators believed in the Gods, Polix would have been down on his hands and knees, offering himself up for their mercy. Maybe, Polix mused, that was exactly what he was about to do: offer himself up to the Great God Rubeus
Finally, with all of these thoughts encircling his brain, Polix reached the door to the Grand Master’s study. The floor creaked underneath his weight as he stopped and knocked three times in a manner that he hoped was reverential.
‘Come in, Brother,’ spoke Rubeus firmly.
With that, Polix took a deep breath, fully aware that he was entering the room in which his future, or lack thereof, would be decided.
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