Authors: Roman Gitlarz
The doors reopened on the main level, which I immediately recognized from the day before. This time, the great chamber was beautifully illuminated. I spotted the hall of green marble before me, which led to the towering bronze entry doors. I looked up at the high ceiling, able to discern all of the intricate details of the half-dome overhead. I turned and saw the same line of white marble statues behind me, their menacing stares from the shadows replaced by elegance and life-like craftsmanship. I was seeing the world of Capribo with renewed eyes.
Halfway between the two lifts stood the entry to the throne room, the bronze doors ajar. Two guards stood from their cushioned chairs as we approached. Sarmia uttered a few words to them and we proceeded into the sister chamber alone.
The awe of the throne room was in no way diminished by my knowledge of the island’s many wonders. The dance of simplicity and intricacy within the room was just as beautiful the second time around. Sarmia and I were completely alone, and I was free to explore to my heart’s desire. Unlike the day before, the room was now filled with many other chairs. They faced each other, rather like those of a theater with a central stage. But their mirrored arrangement was broken in the center not by a stage, but by a wide aisle leading to the throne.
“Why are all of these chairs here?” I asked.
“Court was held this morning,” Sarmia informed me. “The judges of the island sit here.”
“I see, and what about the King?”
“He directs the proceedings from the dais,” she acknowledged the step pyramid of gray stone at the other end.
“So he is not the supreme judge of the land?” I asked, walking the perimeter of the chamber. I touched the silver accents at the base of the Corinthian columns. The stone appeared to be chiseled with a needle, so perfect were the carvings.
“His official role is described as ‘Speaker and Organizer of the Chamber of Capribo,’” Sarmia expounded, “but the position has greatly evolved over the centuries. In modern times, he is equally a figurehead of morality.”
“Morality? Then the King does not rule with absolute authority?” my voice echoed throughout the cavernous space.
“Oh no,” Sarmia countered. “The monarchs do not rule the people. They must follow the same laws as everyone else. Officially, Eireas leads the government by coordinating hearings and monitoring the Chamber’s deliberations. His legal vote is worth only twelve percent of the total.”
“And how many votes are there?” I asked.
“In Capribo, there are fifty votes. One from each of the forty-four judges, and six additional votes from the crown. All major decisions are passed right here under this system.”
“Fascinating,” I admitted. “And how are the judges chosen?”
“They are elected, just as the King. Eleven judges from each of the four divisions.”
“King Eireas is elected?!” my voice cracked with disbelief.
“Oh yes,” Sarmia boasted. “Does your world still have hereditary monarchies? We discarded the system long ago.”
“But Eireas is so young!” I observed.
“He is twenty-eight,” the Etia informed me proudly. “But yes, he is the youngest ruler elected in nearly three hundred years.”
I pondered the information as I approached one of the massive glass ribbons embedded into the stone wall of the tower. My finger followed the line where the two elements met. Sarmia walked up to the throne and entered a command into one of the electric squares embedded in the armrest. The great glass panel before me began to grind as it lifted up from the floor. A salty sea breeze entered the chamber as the glass rose slowly, leaving an eight-foot gap before finally ceasing its ascent.
“Today is too wonderful to stay indoors,” Sarmia beamed. “Let us stroll through the gardens.”
I followed her out onto the lawn and we walked amongst the trees. I heard the grinding of the glass panel as it slid shut behind us, but I had completely forgotten that its transparency was lost from the exterior. I watched what appeared to be a slice of gleaming silver metal slide back into place at the tower’s base.
“Incredible” I breathed.
Sarmia’s eyes twinkled as she watched me. “It is truly amazing to witness someone so taken with our world,” she professed. “You show me just how much is taken for granted in our daily lives, and for that I thank you.”
“A few days ago, I was merely a man on his way home,” I declared. “I had spent a great deal of my life traveling the world and reading of its history, but not once did I stop to examine its true nature. In a few days’ time, you have given me more to think about than I can possibly express. For that, Sarmia, I thank
you
.”
The young woman radiated happiness.
We walked deeper into the foliage and I spotted countless flowers, statues, and benches ahead. The majority of the flat plain between the tower and the sea appeared to be a blissful garden. The preponderance of my time outdoors was spent asking questions. To her credit, Sarmia responded with enthusiasm and encouragement in every instance. We picked fruit from the trees for sustenance as I learned more about the structure of Capribian politics, the layout of the land, and even how the Tower of Marble came upon its name.
“It was not originally covered in the silver skin,” the Etia informed me as we took respite on a bench nestled within a cluster of rhododendrons. “The exterior appeared as glass and marble until the metallic accent was added for the Tower’s one-hundredth anniversary, though it retained the original name. It is the tallest capital building in the world.”
“How many capital buildings are there?” I asked before biting into a delicious apricot, which I had picked during our walk.
“The Royal Republic of Capribo is only one state within our nation,” she explained. “There are fifteen in all, each with a capital city. But there is a capital for the entire nation as well. In fact, King Eireas is traveling there in two days’ time.”
“And what is the nation’s capital?”
“Alexandria.”
I nearly choked on my apricot. “But that is where my companions and I departed from just days ago!” I exclaimed. “Would we be permitted to join the King on this journey? It may just be enough to convince my entire group of our predicament.”
“I will speak with his highness this evening, but I don’t see why he should decline.”
Sarmia escorted me back to the apartments and I was quick to relay the information to my companions. To my surprise, they were all eager to see Alexandria again, though I suspected the majority believed the ‘nonsense’ of information we were given would be disproved by the journey.
The Capribian attendants once again provided us with a lavish meal for dinner. Rémy was still out of the apartment so we ate without him. Ella sat rather quietly opposite me at the table, though I caught her looking in my direction on several occasions. Her grandmother and the others talked amongst themselves of European politics as if they were back home and all was as it had always been.
“How was your time with the advisor?” Ella finally asked me quietly.
“Wonderful, thank you,” I answered politely. “There is so much to learn of this world and I hardly know which direction to turn to next.”
“I am sure you learned a lot. She appears to be a well-educated woman… and you were gone for quite some time,” she looked down at her plate and took a small bite of broiled duck. I saw flushness in her cheeks and my heart began to beat faster.
“Ella,” I whispered, “The advisor is an interesting woman to be sure, but she is not the one I would have preferred to spend time with this afternoon.”
Her bright green eyes gazed up at me and the heat in her cheeks increased twofold.
“Forgive me,” she whispered so quietly I could scarcely make out the words. “I have absolutely no right to be jealous.”
“To be honest,” I informed her, “I would have probably reacted similarly had you spent the afternoon with the King.”
These words brought a small smile to her face and I grinned foolishly for the remainder of the evening.
We all retired to the bedrooms and I lay on my mattress, journal in hand, scrawling down the details of my afternoon. I did not realize how late it had gotten until Rémy broke the silence when he entered the room.
“Oh, I didn’t expect anyone to still be up,” he informed me.
I chuckled. “I have been so busy writing that I completely lost track of time.”
“Writing what?” he asked, undressing for bed.
“I began recounting our journey out of Alexandria,” I revealed. “I originally fancied it would be published as an introduction to Capribo, but now I suppose it’s more for my entertainment.”
“Writing is very therapeutic,” Rémy encouraged. “I would like to read it sometime, if you allow it.”
“Certainly!” I agreed. “How were your Capribian lessons?”
“They went very well, thank you,” he smiled as he got into bed. “Although I learned that the language isn’t even called Capribian, but Anuprian.”
“Why is that?”
“Apparently the entire Mediterranean region used to be known as Anupria, and the language developed during this time. All of the Royal Republics use it.”
“We must swap our new-found knowledge tomorrow,” I proposed. “I would love to hear more of what you learned.”
“Gladly,” he agreed, “though I am meeting with Eireas again tomorrow.”
I paused. “The King was your tutor?” I asked in disbelief.
He nodded. “Yes, I was most surprised when the assistant took me to see him this morning. But he was a prodigious instructor, and he even started to create a dictionary for me.”
“How did he manage that?”
“When he showed me an image, I spoke it aloud in French and the wall screen then paired it with a recording in Anuprian, both of which I could recall later. I had such a wonderful time and he tells me I am a very quick learner.”
“That is delightful news! I hope he can do the same for me sometime.”
Rémy nodded. “Well, goodnight Phillip. We will talk in the morning.”
“Goodnight. I will turn the light off shortly.”
“It does not bother me,” he said softly. “You can continue writing if you wish.”
I jotted a few more lines down and stood to place the journal with my other books. I spotted a volume of red leather nestled among the stack which I did not recognize. I quietly pulled it out and opened the front cover. The interior was stamped with an intricate seal.
Property of the Pearson Estate Library
. One of Ella or Lady Pearson’s books must have gotten mixed up with my own during their transition from the
Bigorneau
.
I flipped the page to see which book it was when a small sliver of yellow paper fluttered out onto the floor. I picked it up and examined it. Most of the document was torn away, but it held the distinctive layout of a legal notice. The writing was badly degraded but I held the paper up to the light. The fragment didn’t tell me much, but I saw that it was a court summons. The accusation:
Misappropriation and embezzlement of estate funds
.
Rémy and I awoke long after the sunrise horn had blown its rousing call the following morning. To our surprise, the apartment was unoccupied. I spotted a note in hastily scribbled French atop a side table in the lounge:
Rémy, the advisor offered to take us to the gardens for luncheon this afternoon. It did not seem right to wake you, but please join us later if you wish. – Uncle Lucas
We took a seat at the dining table. Breakfast had long since gotten cold, but I ate a handful of nuts, berries, and goat cheese. The Capribian diet agreed with me. The vast majority of their dishes made no use of butter, fats, or oils and I noticed the lighter fare was easier on the stomach than the heavy home-cooked meals I was accustomed to.
“Will you join the others in the gardens?” Rémy asked between mouthfuls.
“Yes, will you?”
“I can’t. I am meeting King Eireas for Anuprian lessons again.”
“Oh yes,” I recalled. “I forgot to mention. I requested that we accompany him to Alexandria tomorrow.”
“What a splendid idea,” Rémy beamed, his blue eyes sparkling in the mid-morning light. “It may just be enough to show my uncle and the others the truth of this place.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I concurred. “So am I to understand that you believe it wholeheartedly?”
“I didn’t at first,” he stated, “but in all honesty, I very much want to.” He appeared a bit embarrassed at the admission.
“I know what you mean,” I said comfortingly. “I don’t even understand it myself and I’d be lying if I said I had no guilt in it. I find my thoughts drifting to my family from time to time and it saddens me that I did not write them a final letter. They did not even know I would be traveling out of Africa. My disappearance will be a mystery. But all the while, I consider myself lucky. I saw them only every few years and our situation would be much more painful had I been closer to them. But despite these occasional thoughts, there is something very powerful about this place which calls to me.”
“Yes!” Rémy agreed. “Although I suppose it’s natural for you. Exploring is what you chose to do with your life, after all.”
I chuckled. “It is really not as glamorous as one may think. I read dusty old manuscripts and try to translate ancient carvings. This…” I acknowledged our surroundings, “is beyond even my imagination. A living civilization unbeknownst to all we know.”
“You would enjoy the study of their language,” Rémy pointed out. “I am no linguist, but even I revel in finding parallels between our words and theirs.”
“I am sure I would,” I mused. “I have a lot of time on my hands now.”
We finished breakfast and took turns bathing. Rémy and I once again adopted Capribian dress. I felt as if I was becoming more in tune with the spirit of the island when I donned one of the colorful tunics. It was an enjoyable experience, partaking in the local custom. It also helped that the local attire was far more comfortable and better-suited to the climate than my stuffy English clothing. I realized it was only our fourth day on the island, but already I was captivated by its spirit.
My young friend and I departed the apartment together. There was a sentry sitting outside our doors, who stood when we emerged. I was very surprised, and a little jealous, when Rémy began speaking to her in Anuprian.
“Agiméra,” he stated proudly. The sentry smiled and returned the greeting.
“On váde… sti kípens,” he expressed slowly, trying to find the words, acknowledging me.
The guard nodded. “Et von?” she asked.
“Sti Vasilus,” Rémy answered.
The sentry laughed. “
Se
Vasilus,” she corrected good naturedly and Rémy nodded with a smile.
She activated the lift and motioned for us to step inside. We proceeded up to a high floor of the tower where Rémy departed for his lessons before the guard escorted me out to the gardens. We emerged from a side door onto a courtyard of the now-familiar thelísta stones. A number of locals were going about their daily business when they stopped to look at me. “Phillip!” they called excitedly, waving their hands in my direction. How they knew my name, much less recognized me in their clothing, I did not know. Nevertheless, I waved back politely. I spotted my companions seated around a stone table in the middle of a grassy field. The large Cypresses opened up to a vista of the sea in the distance. It was a breathtaking day.
“Ah, Mr. Laurence,” Lady Pearson acknowledged me.
Ella looked up and our eyes locked briefly. I had almost forgotten the court summons which I discovered the night before. Sarmia thanked the sentry and bid me to join them. I settled onto an empty cushion and greeted the group.
“Did you see Rémy?” Travert asked.
“Yes, but he was not able to join us. He is continuing his language studies.”
Daniel let out a snort, but I chose not to acknowledge it.
“How was your time in the gardens?” I asked instead.
“Most pleasant, except for my knees,” Lady Pearson admitted. “As a matter of fact, we’ve only just sat down. The advisor took us on a stroll around the fountains and statues.”
“That sounds wonderful,” I agreed.
“There is more,” Ella chimed in, “she told us that we are to get the finest medical treatment this afternoon.”
“How generous,” I said.
“She has yet to disclose a method of payment,” Daniel added sharply. “Though naturally, she claims it is entirely out of good-will.”
“Perhaps it is,” I pointed out.
“Nonsense,” Daniel scoffed. “Everything comes with a price.”
“And what was the price for the good-will you bestowed as a missionary, Father?” I asked coldly.
The brazen statement gave the priest pause and I could see his pale bony cheeks brighten.
“That was different,” he countered. “I was working to spread the good of God. These atheists don’t have the faith for such morality.”
“Everything we have seen thus far leads me to believe otherwise.”
Daniel chuckled. “They probably don’t even know what morality is.”
“On the contrary,” I persisted, “just yesterday, the advisor informed me that the King is seen as the very figurehead of morality.”
Daniel laughed unabashedly and I ceased providing his pessimism with an audience. I instead turned to our hostess and thanked her for the offer.
“It is my pleasure,” Sarmia declared warmly. “The King was not lying when he said you are a guest of the people of Capribo. In fact, you are a guest of all upon this world.”
A mid-day meal was brought out to us on the lawn and large white parasols were erected to shade us from the heat of the sun. I wanted to engage Ella in conversation but her grandmother sat between us, a verbal barrier to be sure. The elders of our group spent the luncheon discussing the weather and the food before us. I felt as if they lived in a dream world where the reality of our situation failed to take hold. There were many instances in which my logical self wished to argue, but I realized quarrel was futile. All would be revealed in Alexandria.
Sarmia escorted us into the city of Aleria at the conclusion of our meal. It was difficult to spot where the gardens ended and the city began, for the entire area was thick with vegetation. Entering the city of white stone, shaded beneath a canopy of high trees, was like stepping into a wholly new world; the long-lost ruins of an ancient civilization. But in our case, the ruins were neither lost nor dilapidated. The crawling ivy and mosses at the base of the columns gave the city an air of antique mystery, but it was well-preserved and alive with locals who stopped to perceive us as we made our way through. They did not wear the tunics which we had observed during our arrival to the city, but a set of darker trousers and elaborate shirts of a variety of styles.
Unaccustomed to such blatant observation, we had become rather uncomfortable. With the ever-present silver thorn of the Tower of Marble as my guidepost above the treetops, I observed that we had barely entered the heart of the city before Sarmia led us into a white building with wide steps and modern geometric columns at its entrance. We were greeted enthusiastically at the door by a number of attendants, who likewise wore the variegated outfits of the locals outside. I made it a point to inquire about the clothing later in the evening and I was informed that the pastel tunics were distinctive attire, and not for daily use. The outfit was standard for government officials, as well as the King, which explained its abundant presence within the tower, but the characteristic Capribian only donned the garment for special events.
Sarmia introduced us to the attendants and informed us that we were in a medical facility. I will not even try to recall the variety of instruments or procedures which the island doctors exposed us to. Despite the communication barriers, we were treated well and given thorough examinations. The facility even provided me with dental work, and I must point out that it was the most painless and efficient dental procedure which I have ever been privy to. Lady Pearson and Father Daniel were adamant about withholding from any treatments, but after Captain Travert had three of his teeth replaced with duplicates that looked indistinguishable from his own, both individuals capitulated.
It was nearly evening by the time we had finished, but I felt fully revitalized. The physicians injected me with a fluid which I was told would replenish my body with liquids and nutrition which I lacked. I have no doubt that the post-storm exhaustion and dehydration played a part in this diagnosis. Whatever the cause, the people of Capribo were many decades ahead of our own medical practitioners, that much was clear.
I think we all returned to the Tower of Marble with a renewed excitement. Lady Pearson was even told that she could walk without the use of a cane again, but the procedure would be more extensive than a simple clinical visit. I passed her thanks along to our hostess and informed her that Lady Pearson would need to give it some thought before committing.
We followed the little cobblestone path back toward the great silver spike of the Tower of Marble. I purposely fell behind in our group and managed to sneak up to Ella’s side as we quietly made our way back in the fading light.
“Ella,” I whispered in her ear.
She turned, shocked, to face me. “Mr. Laurence!” she breathed. “What ever are you doing?” She feigned surprise but there was no denying the exhilaration within her voice.
“I want to steal you away for a few minutes,” I smiled.
“We mustn’t!” she countered, her eyes darting to the remainder of the group before us, though I could just make out the outline of a smile on her lips.
“And why not?” I teased.
“Because…” she stuttered. “Because…”
“Because you’re a proper English lady and I, a meager American academic?” I asked mockingly. “Neither are of any consequence here,” I pointed out.
“It matters to my grandmother,” she said more sternly. “Now please, I don’t want to cause a scene…”
Despite my putting her on the spot, my emotions got the better of me. “Very well,” I informed her, stiffening my posture. “I shan’t pester you.”
I walked away brusquely, immediately regretting my actions, but I was already within the fold of the group before I dared turn around.
Rémy was sitting in the lounge of our apartment when we returned. He informed us that he was likewise provided with medical care after his lessons had concluded that afternoon. I was most eager to learn some of his knowledge and asked if he would be kind enough to share it with me.
“But of course!” he laughed and I realized how refreshing his presence was. He was my companion in excitability. How different my time on the island would have been without Rémy’s constant optimism to reinforce my own. I had already begun to think of him as a brother and that bond continued to blossom.
It chanced that I sat at a distance from Ella over dinner. Though, truth be told, my pride was still somewhat wounded. I passed the time speaking to Rémy and we excused ourselves to our bedroom at the conclusion of the meal. He had learned how to operate the wall screen with greater precision and he was able to bring up the study aide which he and the King began to create the day before.
“See?” Rémy asked. “Like this.” He touched an image of a cat.
“
Chat
,” I heard his recorded voice utter from the wall in French. After a few seconds’ pause came a woman’s voice with the Anuprian equivalent: “
Bes
.”