A Fine Black Sky
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
The berfrey bat was voracious, tenacious and determined, even while being its common secretive and hidden self, and it spent many of its days searching for the steen mouse or its cousins. When that became untenable, seemingly unreasonable for continuation, while bereft of success, the berfrey bat took to the alcoves - the dust ridden halls and corridors and the lost and lonely rooms - gone far beyond their usefulness.
It was from a hidden position that it watched the handful of Vigilants who frequented this area, usually for nefarious purposes. They would conduct their business, haled from all others, of the herbs and spices, and the mild narcotics dangerously melded from the various plants about Unity. They would share the spoils of confiscated wares, but mostly, they would find a quiet corner and disappear for an hour or two, neglect the duties to which they were bound, to gain a few extra hours of sleep.
They called themselves The Few, and it was of The Few that the berfrey bat noticed the most. For the berfrey bat, it was the scraps they left behind that it would pounce upon, when they had gone.
And it was said that, upon a shift of epically dull proportions, a Vigilant went walking about the unused rooms and corridors of the Tower, looking for something interesting to do. One room he had left to investigate, after months of searching largely empty rooms, save for the piles, the mountainous dunes of dust and the frequense spider webs.
In this room he had discovered a mystery that had lain hidden for many a decade, no longer in use. Within that room was a series of pipes that linked to the ground, but travelled beyond. And when the Vigilant looked into one of those pipes, through a series of strategically placed mirrors, he observed unnoticed the activities of people about the Tower. This particular pipe showed the south west corridor of the Noble’s Residence, while another showed the Merchantery, with the smoke obscuring all but the most resplendent of colourful rugs, carpets and throws. A further pipe showed the Apprentice Dining Room, where the children were at their food, conversing, laughing and joking.
Not all of them, but most of them.
Other pipes showed other delights, and it was upon the Vigilant to keep it unrevealed to others. Yet the sense of adventure compelled him to tell some. After they had viewed what the first had viewed, they too took it upon themselves to keep inviolate the secret that had been revealed. It seemed that many, many years ago, the Vigilants of the South Tower had taken it upon themselves to build a network of viewing pipes, so that they could observe the people of the Tower secretly. Not for nefarious purposes, not then.
Back in the long distant past, when peace was uneasily settled, there was a commonly held belief that some would take opportunity in this approach to perform subterfuge, intrigue and murder most foul. With this notion came the added assumption of that the pipes would provide protection and the like, but when they were becoming used by rivals of others, and also by Deviators who had come upon the contraption, it was closed up, forgotten about. And it had stood thus until a curious Vigilant found them once again.
The group of Vigilants called themselves The Few, with no indication to what The Few eluded to. The problem came, over the decades of the existence of The Few, that certain elements crept into the group, being of those whose intentions were less than clear, and that a haled obligation was little more than a hurried excuse to get to the good bit.
There was a particularly vocal Vigilant, a member of The Few, who was at first enthusiastic and avid upon the secrecy of the group, but slowly he would let loose some information of The Few back to his friends. And it became known by The Few that one shift, this Vigilant had invited his friend, who was neither a Vigilant nor a member of The Few, and therefore was not beholden to any obligation of duty, had seen the sights the pipes revealed.
Giddily, and for the next few days, both men would talk quite openly about their misadventure, where now ordinary people could hear, often those of which were subject to having been secretly observed. The two men drank fermented liquid and would sing made-up songs about what they had seen, causing much ruckus and consternation, until it fell upon The Few to deal with the problem at hand. It would have to be swift and sudden.
So it was this night, while the berfrey bat was watching, that the two men, now most fearful and pleading, through tears of regret, were to be found. The Few representatives, wearing black clothes and black veil, hauled the men to the window, that led to the utter darkness without. One opened the window wide as the others forced the men to the window sill.
For the berfrey bat, the action was a distraction to its own movements, and as the men were defenestrated from the Tower, the berfrey bat took its own opportunity to fly through the open window, and explore the City once more. It had too long been cooped up in that Tower, ever hopeful, but never fulfilled. And it would search the City for the steen mouse, or perhaps more? It remembered, somewhere deep within its instinctual memory, of a world of wonder, of delights, of smells and sights.
It stretched its long, dark, leathery wings wide, wider than it had ever within the Tower. It was free, and with that freedom came a reinvigoration of its nature. It felt renewed - young again - and it took flight over the mountainous houses into the furthest reaches of the City.
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