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The message got through.
I turned back, even if it meant abandoning a poor dead man to his fate.
All his family had to do was help him.
Eltz's journal
19
Believ
I'm pacing up and down the wall, determined to find a way in, or at least catch whatever is being said in this room.
No matter how hard I try to keep a low profile, I can't completely hide my footsteps. My heels keep clicking on the stone floor. A kind of echo bounces from wall to wall, amplifying the signs of my passage. Eventually, it'll give me away. I have no choice: I take off my sneakers, tie the laces together, and slip them around my neck. I find myself in my socks on the shiny flagstones, made slippery by wear and tear.
I scan the hallway until I hear the sound of voices. If they're shouting like that, maybe standing behind the door will be enough to let me hear this unsettling exchange. I press my ear against the door and hold my breath. The shouting continues, but I can't make out what's being said.
The sheer volume of the clamor makes me realize, however, that this isn’t a conversation between a handful of men. I'm afraid the entire chapter of monks is here! Why such a gathering? Who are these people who have come to meet the monks? And why is this audience being held in a remote basement room?
The most important thing is to avoid being noticed. I place my hand on the handle and turn it slowly, before carefully opening the door. I slide my head into the gap and discover that it's an amphitheater. Monks and visitors are chatting loudly below.
As I enter the huge hall where the debate is taking place, an intense thrill runs through me. I feel as if I'm witnessing a major event; not just for me, but for humanity.
My presence has never been so discreet. I sneak up behind the last seats, close to the door I leave ajar, and stare at this strange spectacle I never thought I would witness. I can now clearly hear this surreal exchange:
“With all due respect, your Brotherhood only exists because we tolerate it! You must submit to our rules and our will!”
That voice! I recognize it; it's one of those I heard earlier last night!
What brotherhood is he talking about? How many of them gravitate to the shadows?
I'm lost in conjecture before plunging back into the lively debate below.
“I hear you, Your Lordship, and you know perfectly well that we've been at it for centuries now. But this is too much! We can't go on like this. We refuse to—”
“What do you mean, you refuse? When did you think we were asking for your opinion?”
“That's enough of that! You don't have to address us in that tone of voice! You run your Church, I run my Brotherhood; to each his cross!”
“You don't understand! Your Brotherhood only exists because we created it. And why do you think we did it? Because it's useful to us!”
“You've taught me nothing. We understand perfectly well that our services serve your cause. Otherwise, why do you insist on them so insistently?”
“Unfortunately, I don't think you understand everything. You're not just here to assist us, you're an integral part of our institution. A subsidiary, of sorts.”
“How so?”
The man who appears to be the Brotherhood's leader chokes on his words. He’s clearly outraged by what he has just learned.
“Obviously, you didn't think the Church would risk getting its hands dirty or being double-crossed. The Sin Eaters Brotherhood was created centuries ago precisely to avoid this kind of unpleasantness.”
The Sin Eaters Brotherhood!
Is the Sin Eaters Brotherhood an arm of the Church? It can't be!
And what have I got to do with it?
What's my role?
