Alba, along with five policemen, four soldiers and two inquisitors, stood in front of the doors to the factory owned by the "Grandfather". No one was guarding the building, they went inside without barriers and saw a huge figure of a hunched old man, arms crossed over his chest, standing in the center of a huge hall, with wooden barrels placed around the perimeter. It was as if he was waiting for them to enter. The air was thick with the smell of vodka and whiskey. Leaves and ash flew into the room from the side of the open door. Chandeliers and sconces lit up the entire room with the colors of the fading sunset, giving up most of it to darkness. Alba stood two meters away from the "Grandfather" and saw that he was standing with his eyes closed.
"Willie," Alba said.
"They say you need to close your eyes for at least twenty minutes to adapt to the dark. And after forty-five minutes, the light sensitivity begins to increase again. This way, when you open your eyes, you can better understand and view the darkness surrounding you from all sides, okay? Hmm. It's been twenty-five years since I last used this exercise, but I'm glad you made me remember it, huh?"
"I'm Alba."
"Hmmm. Hmmmm. Yeah. I know, I know who you are. I could tell by the smell that came in here with you, the ashy smell of despair, innit, my friend? You're like a little girl running through the dark streets of a city, looking for salvation for yourself and your imaginary friends, aren't ya? By the way, what time is on the clock behind me?"
Alba turned back, did not answer, he saw rage in others’ eyes, they were ready to kill the old man, and raised his hand to let everyone know: without his order, no amateur activity. He took two steps towards Willie and was within half a meter of him, but Willie did not move a step away, standing firmly and confidently in the same place. "Half past seven," said one of the inquisitors, after which the "Grandfather" opened his eyes and saw everyone in front of his eyes. Three dark figures with red markings on their cloaks stood in front of him, looking down haughtily. The policemen and soldiers gripped their weapons tightly in their hands, their index fingers on the triggers, trembling and afraid.
"I have a proposition for you, Willie."
The "Grandfather" pursed his lips, stretched out his head, looked at the floor and nodded his head, then grunted several times and said:
"It's not hard to guess what you want, innit? There is a revolution on the streets, everyone is watching you from their windows, and crazy nutcases with weapons are destroying everything atilt, right? And your daddy and mommy are sitting far away in the forbidden city that you can't get into, hmm? Yeah? But I'd like you to say it out loud, so everyone in this room can see how helpless you are, mate, okay?"
Alba became extremely furious, he took another step towards Willie and said:
"You're playing with fire, you know that, don't you? We come to you in peace, but the world becomes extremely unstable when you speak to the supreme representative of the Inquisition in this tone. And you are at the very edge of it."
Willie reached out and felt Alba's breath, quick and nervous.
"Go on, go on," he said, gesturing.
Alba hesitated and continued:
"We want you to take us to the forbidden city, as you already said, and we’ll reward you handsomely, okay?"
"Yeah, Hmm... You know what, I've changed my mind, I don't fucking like the way these two roosters look at me as if I owe them something."
The "Grandfather" turned his back on Alba, bent down, and took out a case of six cans of whiskey from the floor. Then he handed them to him and continued:
"This is for you, for free, I hope you can find a place where you can drink it all and at the same time figure out how to get out of that deep, black sewer that you got into, okay?"
Alba took the box and handed it to the inquisitor standing behind him. Then he turned back, put his hand on Willie's shoulder, and said in a whisper: «Let's step back and talk like normal people, okay? »
"Sure," said the "Grandfather" and nodded his head, "right after you've tasted my whiskey and your two little puppies too. I am very interested to know your opinion."
Alba turned around and ordered three bottles to be opened. The Inquisitor did so. He handed one bottle to Alba, kept the other for himself, and gave the third to the last inquisitor. Everyone took a sip.
"How's it?" The Grandfather asked.
"Good whiskey," Alba said, and handed the bottle back. "I think now I understand what you want."
"Really? Well, and what do I want, mate? Hmm. Also, if you know what I want, then I don't understand why we're still not discussing the case, but just wasting our breath?"
"You want us to sell your whiskey on behalf of the Inquisition."
Willie nodded, grunted, and answered:
"Yes. But not only whiskey, but also vodka, alright? Wait a second, I wrote everything down on this little piece of paper."
"He's a sick man," one of the inquisitors shouted, burning with rage.
The "Grandfather" froze and looked straight into his eyes and answered:
"Are you talking like this to everyone you need help from, aren't ya, my friend?"
"No one can talk to the Inquisition like that."
"Then you know where the door is, right? Just don't forget to close it behind you, so the smell of stench and smoke from the explosions won’t be drawn into my place."
"No one will drink vodka, it's not a marketable commodity," Alba said.
"Then our conversation is over."
Alba took two steps back, rolled his eyes, and took several deep breaths. Willie pulled an empty wooden crate towards him and sat down on it. Then he took a small piece of paper from his breast pocket, cleared his throat, and continued:
"You, of course, will be engaged in deliveries, loading and unloading, my alcohol will be sold under your brand, thought to write something like: "every glass you drink will bring you closer to our God" or something like that…"
"He's so fucking mad! Blasphemer!" The second Inquisitor shouted, but Willie ignored him and continued to read his paper.
"In addition to this, I want to have 80% of all sales, I think it will be fair, and those bottles which will expire, you will buy yourself, at the expense of the taxpayers, of course, from whom, though, you have so much money, hmm."
"Don't forget, old man, that you're the only one here," said the inquisitor, and Alba silenced him with a gesture of his hand, and then gave his companion an angry look.
"Besides, I want extra gold coins. Since you, my friends, are in deep shit, so I can demand from you with full, right? I want ten thousand gold pieces for my help and for my silence that people won't find out about your dirty secrets..."
"What dirty secrets, Willie," Alba interrupted.
Willie raised his head and looked at Alba's sabatons, and then at the small bolt holes in his cloak, from under which a faint blue light could be seen, then he leaned to the right and looked at one inquisitor, absurdly hiding his shoulder and numbers, smiled and said:
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"Do I really need to voice them in front of the police and the soldiers, huh? Let's continue. On top of that, I want to sell you my secret, right? A secret that could compromise me in the eyes of such respectable man and that... pussy-squad, huh? For that, I want another five hundred gold pieces. All of this will be our deal with you all. By the way, my lawyer is already preparing the documents."
"Is that all?" Alba asked, clenching his hands tightly into fists.
"No. I also want a hundred gold coins on top of every policeman present in my holy abode for the fact that these assholes are persecuting my incorruptible and kind-hearted people, another hundred for every soldier who does not allow my assistants to engage in the military business, for the benefit of Agernox, by the way. We have a lot of workshops here, and a very cool inventor, Heron. Very wrongly refused! So, you should think about it, okay? Mhmmm…"
The Inquisitors were about to take up the hilts of their flaming swords, but then they remembered that there were people behind them who did not know about the secrets of the Inquisition. Police and soldiers held the "Grandfather" at gunpoint and waited for the orders. That was basically enough.
"Is that all?" Alba asked again.
"Nah. After the last revolution twenty-five years ago, my good name was seriously tarnished in certain circles. I can't get on this rake twice. Despite all the money and bribes, I will be forced to fall in the eyes of my God, and I will no longer be able to atone for my grave sin before him, right? Therefore, you will have to add another three thousand coins so that I can sleep in peace and afford sedatives. And I also want you to give each of my employees, who work tirelessly in this terrible city, saturated with the smell of hypocrisy, another fifty gold pieces, for their silence and good health."
Alba looked once more at the police and soldiers, and the "Grandfather" continued:
"I only have five hundred employees, so it won't hurt your finances too much, of course."
"Is that all now?" Alba asked, losing control of his emotions and imagining burying the bastard somewhere in the mud with his own hands.
"Almost. And the very last thing I want is another three hundred gold pieces because, well, you are a fucking inquisitor who thinks he can do anything he wants," Willie paused dramatically, "and these two, hmm."
The "Grandfather" handed the note to Alba and added: "Everything is written here, in black and white, you won't make a mistake." At the same moment, a lawyer appeared in the far corner, dressed in the same clothes of a simple worker as the "Grandfather" himself. He was of lean build, but of large stature, with red hair and wrinkled skin, and gray eyes.
The lawyer came up to everyone and said:
"Here are 12 contracts with our signatures. At the bottom, where the check mark is, you need to put your signature."
"Yes, yes, yes," Willie added, "and after that we'll all work together to save you from the evil revolutionaries who have unjustly rebelled against you, whose actions, of course, I do not approve at all."
"Lay down your weapons and sign these contracts," Alba ordered, "and we'll be done with it."
The lawyer gave each guest a piece of paper and a pen. All twelve people quickly signed without reading the contract in full, and handed them back. The lawyer double-checked everything, nodded, and left the room.
"What now?" Alba said.
Willie clapped his hands and laughed.
"How much does the Inquisition rob ordinary citizens that it can afford, I note, without negotiation, to give such crazy amount of money for a bunch of idiots?"
Then Willie got up from the wooden crate, walked past Alba, and went straight up to one of the inquisitors and said:
"How old are you?"
"None of your business."
"None of my business, huh?"
"Yes."
The Grandfather laughed.
"You probably think that now I'm going to tell you how to get to the forbidden city, and then you'll be happy to kill me, yeah? It's funny to watch you act like a little pet dog in front of Alba, and when you go out on the street alone, your thinking changes, and you decide, like God himself, who should live and who should not."
"You are already dead, old man."
The "Grandfather" burst out laughing and patted the Inquisitor on the shoulder. Alba suddenly began to understand what was going on, and he felt very uneasy. Willie caught the moment and came up to him, and now he took a few steps forward and came up almost at point-blank, smiled, and said:
"You've got it all figured out, haven't you, Alba? I can see the fear in your eyes, just as I saw it five hundred and fifty years ago when Erving summoned Gennox to this land."
"You've crossed the line, Willie, you've fucking crossed it!" Alba shouted and pushed the "Grandfather", and he did not even move a step.
"I crossed the line, really? You kill people on the orders of your masters, you don't fucking care who is right and who is wrong, how many children, women, defenseless metentises who did absolutely nothing to you, you killed, executed, tortured for months together with your psychopathic inquisitors, mhh? Sent them into the murk, into the darkness, for crossing the path of the Great Alba and his feeble-minded friends! And you said: I crossed the line. Shit. I don't give a fuck about you, mate, or your idiots standing behind you." Willie was talking very fast, gesturing all the time. He alternated between shouting and speaking more softly, playing with his voice for effect. "Nothing makes sense to me. No one knows what's going on yet, right? You were afraid of those who were stronger and more powerful than you, so you, along with Metyr, decided to kill everyone when the world was flourishing, right? Yeah? At this point, you all crossed the line, divided the world into before and after, and what is the result, hmm? You know all about it, don't ya? But you still think I'm crossing the line. Everything you do leads to the death of lots of people, you lose and don't learn from mistakes, you get mad like a child who didn't get a chocolate bar from his mother. You destroyed a beautiful world where everyone had their own corner, for the sake of your and Metyr's fucking views. But the world hasn't adjusted to you, mate. You've been fucked all your life without Vaseline, and you'll continue to be fucked until you die. But here's the snag, you haven't grown up, you're still the same little boy who's afraid, just like now, aren't you, my friend? You created a world of lies and you think that everyone will play by your rules just because you signed a contract with Gennox and got a new power?" Willie continued his monologue, nodding his head and walking in circles around Alba, "Although what did you want originally? You wanted to kill everyone, those who are stronger than you, but you lost and in the pursuit of your worthless life you signed a time bomb that will eventually kill you, isn't that hypocrisy and idiocy in one bottle, hmm? But don't worry, the hour is near when your post will be taken, by Thomas, for example, won't it? You know everything without me telling. And here's the story, gentlemen! Listen up! Alba dies and Thomas takes his place. He tells to all Agernox's citizens that the previous leader before him was a weakling and a traitor, that the icons with his face should be removed and burned. And the people will do so. And there will be no more Alba. I can see you shaking all over. You are standing here now and thinking, who understands what am I talking about? Is it possible to save these soldiers and policemen from what will happen in two minutes or not? And your two comrades from the Inquisition, what do they think? I'll tell you," Willie began to say, in a lower and lower voice, "they're thinking about their power and how to keep it, aren't they? Just like you did five hundred and fifty years ago. They were born with power, and they think they stand on their own two feet, and they think that power gives them carte blanche to murder, rape, and," Grandfather said in a barely audible voice, "use metovis for their own selfish purposes. Do you see yourself in them? Well, I guess they don't even consider you an authority, all your pawns, live their own lives and dream of becoming queens on the chessboard," his voice grew louder, "do what they want and when they want, because they are allowed to do anything! Well, gentlemen, a contract is a contract, there is a secret door here, behind the wall, and behind it I have dug a tunnel that connects to the government lines. Everything that was destroyed by enemy sabotage we have restored, so turn left and forward... march!"
One of the inquisitors couldn't stand the strain and cast a spell:
"Solar incineration (rank 5)!"
Fire burst out of his hands, but suddenly it didn’t hit the "Grandfather", but him, incinerating the body and turning it into dust.
"Fuck!" Alba shouted.
The police officers and soldiers dropped their weapons and ran for the exit.
"Shadow Spears (rank 5)," Alba said, and the shadows lurking in the gloom of the room came to life. They chased after the common people, piercing their bodies with deadly needles. Five seconds later, the corridor at the entrance was flooded with the blood.
"What are you going to do with him?" Willie pointed a finger at the last inquisitor, "with the remaining guy? He knows all about your past now."
Alba lowered his head and heard the inquisitor begin to beg for mercy, until a sword appeared in the air behind him, flashing with lightning, and cutting his head off.
Willie clapped his hands and went over to Alba:
"This is your true face. You have destroyed one empire and you will destroy another; it is only a matter of time. Because you are afraid and you think that a country built on fear and murder will last forever. With the only problem that you are most afraid of yourself."
"This is your true face. You've done a great job of destroying an empire built on trust, but the fact that you're smoothly destroying this country makes me absolutely excited."
"Do the metovis contract agreement already, Willie."
The "Grandfather" looked at the dead inquisitors, shook his head and said: "You don't give a shit about all these people..."
“Willie!”
"All right, all right. It's just always fun to mock you."
Alba took out his sword from under his cloak, the blade of which glittered like his armor – a fluorescent blue flame.
"I'll remember what you did today."
"I don't doubt it. Only in the contract you signed without looking, there is a clause that any attack on me is punishable by death. Indefinitely. So, take it out on someone else and continue your secret games against Gennox and metovis, mate. And I'll sit here, in my new factory. I like it here, not as much as I did six hundred years ago, but I can't bring it back." Willie paused and continued. "The wall is there, ahead. When you get to the tunnel, there's a trolley waiting for you, so you'll have to work with your hands, okay? Take the second intersection to the left, and you'll get into the forbidden city through your secret artillery depot, and there, I hope, you'll find the place."
Willie called his lawyer and asked to see the guest out, then called one of his assistants, who was hiding behind one of the many barrels, and said in a calm voice:
"Let our people roll up the barricades, come back here, and clean up this mess."