Courage Plumb

Courage Plumb

  Terron Tuckett

  Copyright 2014 by Terron Tuckett

  Copyright © 2014 Author Name

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-1-4810-6580-1

  DEDICATION

  Stefani – thank you for loving me

  CONTENTS

 

  1Lupier

  2History's Reprise

  3A Plan Thwarted

  4The Mapmaker

  5Traveling Companions

  6The Book of Epiphany

  7Encoded

  8Decoding

  9Mountain Ascent

  10Five-Point Peak

  11Willow’s Secret

  12Fishing

  13Sunrise

  14Valley of the Disinherited

  15Disinherited

  16The Glass Sea

  17Sporadic Island

  18The Red Kite

  19Wisdom

  20The Road

  21Return to Village #94

  22The Shumaker House

  23Decision

  24Q7

  25A Butterfly’s Trajectory

  26Courage Plumb

  27Circle

  28The Morning Sun

  1 LUPIER

  “What’s taking so long?” asked the father rhetorically.

  Talon did not answer the question. He kept adjusting the third lens in his light box, wanting to get it properly positioned.

  The father looked up from his light box and exasperated in frustration at the slowness of his sixteen-year old son in readying his work tool. After another heavy breath, the father calmed, and remembered the real source of his frustration: being a sun-sculptor. The father lamented in the solitude of his thoughts: Why couldn’t I have been a baker or coppersmith or carpenter or cobbler or cooper or herbalist or tanner or, really, anything else? Why did my father want me to be the sun-sculptor? My brother and sister both trained in the profession, but since only one of us could continue in the trade, my father chose me. Alas, why didn’t he choose one of them instead?

  The father walked over to Talon’s light box and gently placed his hand on the youth’s shoulder. After a few apologetic pats, the father adjusted the third lens.

  “Thanks,” mumbled the son.

  “Sorry,” offered the father just as weekly. “I am just feeling the pressure to complete the order. Lupier arrives in two mornings, and we still need to finish four swords and one arrowhead. If nothing goes wrong, and that is a big ‘if,’ we can get everything completed.”

  Rose, Talon’s younger sister by two years, looked up from light box, and asked her father, “Is it really so bad if we don’t finished everything? Can’t he just pick them up when he comes next time?”

  Talon shook his head in disbelief. While his younger sister exhibited significant sun-sculpting ability, she grappled with basic knowledge in regards to operating a business. Before Lupier arrived in their village, the sun-sculptors lacked any customers. Perhaps Rose forgot, Talon thought, our financial misery prior Lupier’s first order. Perhaps she does not remember eating moldy bread and spoiled fruit. Has our family’s meager prosperity in the last six months so clouded her memories? If she did remember, Rose would value every order that comes into this workshop.

  The father responded to Rose’s question dismissively, “Just finish your swords, will you?”

  Talon resumed adjusting the fourth lens on his light box. Despite much bending, tweaking, and nudging, no beam of light emanated through the lens. The process of sun-sculpting required directing the sun’s rays through a series of five lenses, but each lens required readjustments throughout the day. As the sky’s yellow orb rose and then sank or as a wafting clouds obscured its rays, the first, and largest, lens required readjustment, which cascaded toward needed modification for the other four lenses. Talon tuned the lens, and finally, a ruby-like beam glistened through four lenses – one left to go.

  Rose stepped away from her light box and reached over her brother’s shoulder. She politely jostled his fifth lens; the ruby-colored ray now twinkled through the entirety of Talon’s light box. The beam rested on Talon’s workstation. Finally, the older apprentice began sun-sculpting. Rose stepped away and admitted in a matter-of-fact tone, “I did not want to see you struggling with the final lens for the next half-hour.”

  Talon said nothing. He knew the truth of Rose’s words. Despite being two years her elder and, consequently, two more years learning the sun-sculpting trade, Rose shaped light intuitively. The ruby beam danced on her fingertips as she molded sunlight into a tangible product. For Talon, he sculpted light rays as if he was allergic to the sun. Hence, his sister could complete two swords from Lupier’s outstanding order, while Talon likely needed help finishing a single arrowhead.

 

  The next afternoon, as the sun dipped behind the distant mountains, the father looked up from light box and announced, “Finished. The last glowing blade is completed. Rose, is the arrowhead finished yet?”

  The fourteen-year old girl with long curly brown hair and olive skin hovered over her brother’s light box and sculpted the day’s final sunrays. Talon lingered behind her and answered the question, “Just a few more second. She is almost done.”

  “That’s it,” announced Rose. We were taught never to make weapons, thought the girl, and yet, here I am, making swords and finishing this arrowhead for my brother. She held up the finished product, a semi-transparent yellow arrowhead that exhibited an ever-present twinkle. She haphazardly tossed the glowing arrowhead into a storage bin. It thudded softly as the feathery weighted v-shaped point landed atop the other weapons. Despite a seeming disregard for the arrowhead’s condition, Rose knew the item could not be damaged. The glowing arrowhead, like all sun-sculpted wares, defied entropy. While all other products suffered from decay and eventually deteriorated, a glowing good eschewed the effects of time and use. The arrowhead upon which Talon labored and Rose just completed existed into perpetuity, regardless of the abuse levied upon it by its owner. Even its razor-sharp point remained unaffected. Hence, as Rose whimsically tossed the completed item in the bin, just as she tossed every completed weapon of Lupier’s order, she worried not about damaging it.

  “Excellent work,” said the relieved father. “Everything is ready for Lupier’s order. I suggest both of you get some rest this evening. We have worked diligently this week to get everything finished. I fully expect Lupier to place another order on the morrow, which means we are back to the busyness by midday coming.”

  Rose performed an exaggerated shiver. “That man gives me the creeps. I can’t quite say why but I really don’t like him.”

  Talon joined her position, “Something is not right about him. Daks said that Lupier ordered even more sheaths. When they balked at being able to fill the order, Lupier responded with veiled threats to help ‘motivate’ them. Things like ‘Maybe another family could get more done in this shop,’ and remarks like that. Daks felt that completing requests for Lupier was no longer a choice, but Daks’ father does not mind: Lupier is paying them a small fortune.”

  “That’s their business, not ours,” snapped the father defensively, “and always be skeptical of second-hand comments, especially critical remarks.” Especially a critical remark that come from a seventeen year-old boy, thought the father.

  The father said nothing more, but after some quiet reflection, he agreed with his children’s sentiments. Lupier is so overly friendly that I find him off putting. I am terrified at his response should I ever “disappoint” him by not finishing an orderly promptly. No other person frightens me, but that man, despite his pleasantness, scares me. While I really don’t like the man, I like having a customer. Without Lupier’s order, we would continue amass
ing debt and borrowing from others. If it were possible to maintain my livelihood and provide for my children without making weapons for Lupier, I would do it, but I see no other choice.

  The father stared into the setting sun and remembered the chain of events that entangled his family in this business relationship. To begin, the Sunsculptors fashioned glowing wares, which never decayed, and consequently, they never required replacement. If a local farmer purchased a glowing plow, then the farmer used that plow for his entire life. The plow remained in impeccable working order, and upon his death, the farmer bequeathed the cherished item to his heir. His beneficiary continued the process of ownership. Thus, the Sunsculptor family business differed from a blacksmith who sold a plow but then profited from the ongoing need to sharpen, repair, or even replace the iron tool. Once the customer purchased a glowing ware, they seldom returned. After many generations of sun-sculpting in their village, a dearth of opportunities emerged, but a few requests continued to trickle into their workshop. With the exorbitant prices, a handful of orders each year provided a meager existence for the family.

  My father, lamented the father, possessed less business acumen than my fourteen-year old daughter, which seems impossible No point dwelling upon it now … but still, what was he thinking?

  The father, of course, remembered the fateful decision of Talon’s grandfather a generation earlier. The elder Sunsculptor concocted a plan to create much-needed income. Many villagers hoped to purchase a glowing good but such fine quality crafts often took years, if not decades, to afford. Believing the greatest obstacle to purchasing a glowing ware was their prohibitive cost, especially in comparison to its wooden, iron, or clay counterparts, the grandfather initiated a payment plan. Instead of requiring the full payment upon delivery of the product (the family’s practice for generations), Talon’s forerunner allowed customers to take possession of the good after paying only a tenth of the cost. Each customer then agreed to pay a tenth each year for the following nine years.

  A great boom followed. After the initial influx in transactions, the requests subsided and the sun-sculptors spent over a year completing the orders. The family collected all of their initial tenth payments, which alone solidified the financial stability of Talon’s grandfather.

  The customer’s decision in the following years surprised the naïve Sunsculptor; they failed to pay their second installment, or third, or any of the additional payments. While the initial fee secured the family’s immediate financial needs, the plan inadvertently resulted in the Sunsculptors supplying their village with glowing wares at a tenth of their cost, which thereby choked demand without the benefit of proper compensation.

  The father shook his head in disbelief. Perhaps if my father did not supply enough glowing wares for ten generations of villagers at a fraction of their actual cost then someone might still need my services, someone other than the “creepy” – as Rose calls him – Lupier. At least we have food to eat.

  Six month ago, Lupier placed his first order, two glowing blades and three glowing spearheads. After receiving the order, the father’s two children regularly began to produce objects for another person. They spent much time developing their skill, but prior to this request, they lacked almost any opportunity to parlay their practiced skill into practical use.

  The request for weapons agitated the father’s conscience. Villagers never ordered weapons. While people sometimes requested a spearhead or arrowhead for hunting, they never wanted anything like a sword. Further, the father noted the peculiarity in requesting multiple weapons. The Sunsculptors, historically, refused to make glowing weapons on any kind – save a huntsman tools. Lupier, however arrived from another place, which added to his oddity. The Sunsculptors, previously, never conducted business with non-villagers. While they heard tales of other people and other villages, their insular existence never intersected with those beyond their village’s immediate vicinity.

  Despite the father’s concerns, his eagerness to fill the order overrode any lingering questions. The elder Sunsculptor intentionally opted for ignorance, and the family produced the weapons. Lupier returned after two weeks and inspected the goods. The glowing blade dazzled him, particularly because the perfectly balanced sword weighed almost nothing. Even a small child could wield the blade. Further, the razor-like edge never dulled. The formidable glowing blade did not rely upon the wielder’s strength or skill for its efficacy, instead, the sword’s superior quality so dwarfed conventional weapons that its handler battled with superhuman ability. When a glowing blade and an iron sword clashed, the iron weapon shattered upon contact. If the iron blade miraculously endured one blow, it never lasted two. So long as the blade’s bearer parried one, and at most, two lunges from an opponent, then victory awaited.

  The glowing spearheads also delighted Lupier, which prompted a request for more swords and arrowheads. This order led to more orders, and eventually, the Sunsculptors spent nearly all daylight hours making weapons for Lupier. The nonviolent Sunsculptors became experts in making all manners of weapons – swords, spears, battle-axes, maces, arrowheads, and daggers. They barely maintained pace, but they filled every order by its due date.

 

  A couple of months after Lupier’s initial visit, Rose asked her father, “What do we keep making weapons for Lupier? I thought, as Sunsculptors, we oppose violence toward others. We are committed to protecting life – not taking it.”

  Talon quipped, “Rose, why are you bothering our father with such silly questions? Just keep working at your light boxes and stop annoying him?”

  “He taught us,” began Rose, “as you of all people should remember since you remember everything else, to use our abilities to help others. I don’t understand how making glowing blades is helping anyone, except, perhaps, helping Lupier to frighten others.” The fourteen-year old girl looked intently at her brother. She expected an answer from her older brother. The curly-haired boy with olive skin said nothing.

  Their father finally answered the girl’s query. “Rose, it’s true, we should not make things that hurt others. As Sunsculptors, we oppose violence toward other people. Long ago, perhaps even in the previous age, our ancestors forged many glowing weapons. Their creations destroyed others and entangled the land in a long, violent war. Since then, our family has refused to make weapons of violence for others. But, times are different now.”

  “How?” asked the girl, obviously not convinced by her father’s proclamation.

  Talon defended the father’s position, “We make weapons for hunters. Didn’t you make a glowing arrowhead for Jan Hunter about a year ago?”

  “Yes, but that’s different.” Rose remembered the request, which were so few and far between that remembered them all.

  “No really,” said the father. “A glowing arrowhead can help Jan hunt turkeys, or as a weapon to hurt others.”

  “No one would do that,” said Rose. Their village lacked any violence towards others, at least to the extent of maiming another human being. Scuffles erupted occasionally, but no person inflicted lasting harm on another person.

  “Exactly,” said Talon.

  The father continued, “We live in a different time. People do not harm others anymore. Long ago, they did, but not now. Nevertheless, I, like you, feel uncertain about making glowing blades. I don’t think Lupier intends to hurt anyone. That does not seem possible. Besides, we need the income. Did you like retrieving the unsold molded bread from the Baker’s trash? Nevertheless, I will ask Lupier soon about why he wants these weapons. If they are for evil purpose, which I am sure they are not, then we will stop making them. How does that sound to you?”

  Rose shrugged and nodded simultaneously, unconvinced by her father’s persuasions.

 

  Soon afterwards, the father began looking for ways to disentangle the family from the business relationship with Lupier. The elder Sunsculptor considered claiming that other’s requests ne
eded to take precedent (in reality, no other persons made requests). He, like his daughter Rose, felt growing unease with their sole customer. Yet, he failed to confront Lupier with his concerns.

  Finally, on Lupier’s next visit, the Sunsculptor queried the family’s benefactor. “Lupier, why do you need so many weapons? As Sunsculptors, we are committed to life-giving relationships, which mean I am reluctant to continue supply you with so many tools of warfare. Unless there is a justified reason for these weapons, you will need to find another supplier. I am sorry to bring this matter to your attention, but I am troubled with your growing arsenal.”

  Lupier met the declaration with a wide grin – his jocular response surprised the elder crafter and his two young helpers. Lupier chuckled as his spoke, “Oh, did I fail to tell you the reason I needed these items? How silly of me. Are you sure I didn’t mention it? I am certain I told you at some point. I am a thespian … at least I come from a family of thespians. Alas, I am not gifted at the performing arts so my role in the theatre is one of management. I am responsible for gathering the needed supplies for the forthcoming performance in our village. We are currently preparing for our next performance, “The Last War”. We are recounting the final conflict in that terrible event: The Battle of Crestfallen. It was, as you know, the battle where the Soldiers of Light finally defeated to Soldiers of Iron despite being greatly outnumbered. We are preparing a fabulous spectacle … with authentic weapons … and historically accurate …”

  On and on Lupier continued. The soliloquy left no room for discourse. He detailed the preparation and the difficulty of interweaving facts in the fictionalized story. What particularly caught the Sunsculptor father by surprise was the depth of Lupier’s knowledge regarding the role of glowing weapons in The Last War. His family passed on tales concerning the misuse of their weapons in that atrocious event, but one hundred generations late, the family reduced the details from those infamous days into a single adage: glowing weapons are disproportionately powerful and sun-sculptors should avoid violent conflicts. Talon and Rose learned this message from their father, but they never heard any specific accounts of The Last War. Lupier spoke of the subject with an assumption of the Sunsculptor’s in-depth knowledge, which caught the elder Sunsculptor by surprise. Feeling embarrassed by his ignorance, he just nodded at Lupier’s account.

  In the following months, the Sunsculptors filled the ongoing orders for glowing weapons with a cordial, but not friendly, demeanor. They enjoyed the income but still possessed reservations toward Lupier’s motives. The explanation, however, provided the father enough assurance to make the “theatre props” in good conscience.

 

  On one occasion, Rose asked Lupier about the performance date for The Last War. She also asked about the production’s location, and if nearby, could they attend? (Rose longed, despite her residual reservations, to see a performance by any groups other than their village troupe, an eccentric group that reveled in stodgy dialogue.) Lupier rebuffed these queries as the curiosities of a child rather than as questions of substance. His disregard bothered Talon. Why not just answer? Why not just take a few second and give Rose the answer? Lupier’s evasive nature left Talon growing increasingly wary of the man and his motives. His father, however, did not share the concerns. He trusted d the stranger’s words. The father thought, If Lupier claims to be a thespian, then so it must be. All the while, the father lacked the perspective to recognize the family’s newfound ability to repay longstanding debts dulled his objectivity.

 

  The father’s belief in the purity of Lupier’s motives, however, finally waivered upon the latter’s arrival for his most recent order.

  Lupier coolly entered the small workshop wearing a crimson outfit with the word “Protectorate” inauspiciously inscribed on his left chest. For the first time, he did not arrive alone. Five menacing individuals (both men and women) accompanied Lupier through the door, each wearing the same colored outfit with the same inscription. The sudden addition of six people into the shop filled the already cramped space. Talon and Rose shuffled to their feet and leaned against the wall to avoid physical contact with any of the hulking figures. Their father struggled to his feet and tried to position himself in the center of the small shop. “What is this all about Lupier? Who are these people and why are they here?”

  “The name is Commander Lupier. Do you understand, Commander Lupier? I am a commander in the Crimson Guard, the group who serves the Protectorate. I am here to collect my order.”

  Talon and Rose, briefly stunned by the sudden well-orchestrated intrusion by the six men, quickly began finalizing the order of blades, spears, and arrowheads for its departure. Their father, however, responded in a polite but firm manner, “Commander Lupier, you did not answer my question. Who are these men and why are they here?”

  Lupier grumbled in mocked annoyance that he must interrupt his plans to answer the irritating questioner, “These individuals are member of the Crimson Guard. They are here to assist me in collecting these items.” He then continued in anticipation of the next question. “The purpose of the Crimson Guard is to defend the Protectorate from outside intruders. We will return in two weeks for this same order. Be ready when we arrive.” The six guards snatched the containers and exited through the shop’s door with the same precision and haste they entered. Standing at the residence’s threshold, Lupier turned with a glaring look, “Be ready when we arrive. You and your children are going to become great members in Centage. But there are, of course, other possibilities for these children.” The Sunsculptors said anything. As the crimson-clad leader exited, he reached his hand up and slapped an antiquated placard above the doorframe that read, “Courage – Love – Wisdom.” The commander soliloquized, “What a stupid sign.”

  Talon’s rankled at being labeled a “child.” I am not a child! Yet, the youth knew his petrified response exemplified a child-like response, which further frustrated the not-yet-man. Rose’s anger simmered because she felt unprepared for his remarks. The teenage girl mustered no response to Lupier’s remarks. Her silence exposed an underlying fear. I will not acquiesce to fear again, she demanded to herself.

  The father responded by calmly tabling his emotions and immediately reviewing every aspect of the poignant exchange with the newly declared “Commander.” The shallow lines around his hazel eyes and mouth increased in prominence upon his deep olive skin as he remembered Lupier’s exact words and ascertained their implications. His children needed an explanation for the recent events. They wanted to understand the bully tactics of Lupier, but their father disregarded their inquiring looks. He must remember the details of this encounter before the memories faded. Six words formed his recollection: uniforms, Commander, five, Crimson Guard, Protectorate and Centage. Each word provided a tentacle upon which to comprehend the brief events.

  After a moment of thought, Talon’s father reluctantly surmised his next actions: reveal the Sunsculptors’ secrets to his unknowing children. These secrets passed from one generation to another but never at a pre-adult age. He learned the clandestine information from his mother at the age of thirty-one – just a few days before she died. He planned to follow a similar pattern, exposing these secrets in his will should death take him suddenly. The father agonized over providing this information too early in his children’s lives. They lacked the requisite maturity. Yet, the father realized events unfolding events demanded the unmasking of their heritage.

  2 HISTORY’S REPRISE