Veil Of Lies

Veli can scarcely believe that he’s home, but its true he really is and for the first time in years has his eyes on the estate that he grew up in. It hasn’t changed one bit and Veli finds that comforting as he almost skips up the wide gravel driveway that is lined on either side by towering green fern trees. The trees look like lines of soldiers welcoming him back to his kingdom, but the reality is he is no prince or heir to a throne. He is simply the member of a wealthy and successful family who have been in possession of Qos for more than four centuries.

A gentle breeze rustles the short blades of grass as the gravel under his feet shifts and crunches with every step he takes. But none of that compares to the sight of the manor house which looms large ahead of him. The red tiles of the roof are bathed in sunlight while the white-washed walls reflect the rays dazzlingly in all directions. It’s almost like the house itself is a second sun and as a very young child that is exactly what he had mistaken it for when he had been out one day on a walk in the vast undulating terrain that stretches far beyond the rear of the manor house.

A smile is torn wide across Veli’s face as he cannot wait to see the looks on his families’ faces when they catch sight of him. It will be a surprise most splendid, Veli thinks, as a flock of birds fly high overhead chirping as they go. Veli doesn’t stop to watch the birds pass over however. He keeps moving. Nothing will stop his arrival and that is why before long he finds himself under the wide canopy of sandstone that hangs over the double dark wooden doors that are the entrance to the house that stands two storeys in height. He wipes his feet on the brown weave matt and then having reached out to lay his hand on one of the double front doors he pauses. The tips of his fingers run across the stained wood bringing back a myriad of memories of his childhood when he had played with all his cousins. The memories cause a warm feeling to wrap around his body and then he pushes the door open. It is never locked and Veli is pleased to see that such a tradition has continued in his absence. Though, it strikes him that if the tradition had changed then his surprise arrival would have been partially ruined. He thinks only partially because his arrival still would have been a surprise but he would have been forced to use one of the large brass door knockers shaped like a wildcats head to get the attention of his relatives. That doesn’t matter however as the tradition has not changed and so Veli steps through the now open door into the double height foyer with its wide centrally located staircase that splits two thirds of the way up to grant access to the East and West wings of the house.

Sadly the foyer is empty. It isn’t overly surprising but it is disappointing. He had hoped to catch at least one member of his family tootling through, but reasons that perhaps such a plan was a little too ambitious to come to fruition. Though, as he looks around the foyer something feels wrong. At first Veli can’t put his finger on it but then he realises that many of his family portraits are out of order. At least that is what he thinks when he compares them to his memories. However, he concludes that perhaps he is remembering wrong and calls out, “It’s Veli, I’m home.”

Veli is left waiting. At first he wonders if he simply hasn’t been heard and so calls again. “Veli’s home.” Again Veli waits but as the seconds tick away Veli’s brow furrows with a mixture of concern and confusion. There is no way they wouldn’t have heard me, Veli reasons, and then Polita appears at the railing of the upper storey off to his right.

To begin with Veli simply blinks. He doesn’t understand who he is seeing and when he does he feels even more confused.

The pair stare at one another until Veli finds his ability to speak. Before he can however, Polita does and asks, “What are you doing here?”

It’s the exact question Veli was about to ask her but didn’t get the chance to. Though, it quickly dawns on him that he needs to answer, even though he is aghast and confused more than he ever remembers being before in his life. Still, he manages to blurt out, “I live here. Qos is my home.”

As soon as Polita hears his words her sweet face darkens and she screeches, “Intruder!” Her voice is like a raging banshee, but to who she may be calling Veli cannot comprehend.

Not that it matter as Veli is so taken aback by the events that he stays rooted to the spot. That is until he is tackled to the polished checkerboard stone floor.

The impact with the stone is hard and jarring but Veli doesn’t know what has hit him. Though, he feels his head spin in the moments before his arms are wrenched behind his back and secured, painfully.

“Lock him in the cells.” Polita commands as Veli finally finds his voice and cries back, “Let me go. What’s going on? Who are you people? Why are you here? Get off of me!”

But Veli receives no answers to his question and demands. Tnstead, he is dragged out of the house that he has only just returned to. At first he can’t see his captors, of which there are two, but when he does he commits their faces to memory. For what reason he can’t be sure, but he does it nonetheless.

The taller of the two that are escorting Veli to the cells has shoulder length brown hair, is lean, has hazel eyes and a good ten centimetres of height on Veli. The shorter of the pair meanwhile, is a few centimetres shorter than Veli, has shoulder length blond hair, which looks straggly, and also has hazel eyes.

Veli can’t say the shorter elf is fat as that would be incorrect. But he is definitely wider than either himself or the taller elf. He guesses the duo are about the same age, but that they are a good deal older than he is. Not that Veli, who is shoved down some steps that had once led to the vine cellar, is about to ask their ages to confirm his belief. That is a detail which is of no concern to him.

Still, he doesn’t understand cells. Qos has never had a jail or prison but seeing as they are crossing the dimly lit cellar it seems likely that in the time since he was last here that cells have been installed. He seriously doubts that they would have been an addition made by his Uncle Wessel. The man had never possessed a violent bone in his body and Veli wonders if that is where he will find his relatives. However, it does strike him that this could all be part of some misunderstanding and that Polita could simply be a new addition to the family. Both strike him as possible yet not at the same time, so Veli feels compelled to ask, “Who are you?”

Veli’s voice sounds more fearful than he had intended it to. Nevertheless he gets a response from the shorter of the pair who offers, “We are in service to Polita Emersentice as her personal guards.”

It isn’t much of an answer that he’s been given and he’d be lying if he didn’t expect to be given a little more. However, he soon wonders if the limited response is a failing of his own question. He accepts that it might have been but just as he reaches such a conclusion the shorter elf speaks again and says, “She recently inherited this estate.”

“What? What do you mean she inherited it? That can’t be. This estate has been in the care of the Bintoro clan for hundreds of years!” Veli splits angrily as he continues to slowly wade through the darkness that is barely penetrated by the weak, almost burnout, candles that reside in the wall sconces.

Now the taller elf speaks and explains, “Miss Emersentice exposed a Dorir counterfeiting operation orchestrated by Wessel Bintoro, the previous owner, and as payment was gifted the Qos estate. Or at least that is our understanding of the events.”

“Rubbish!” Veli spits as he comes a halt, refusing to take another step after hearing such lies spoken about his uncle. He knows the man would never do such a thing. It is simply not in his makeup, his morals. There must be some mistake, Veli is sure and he intends to declare as much.

“Wessel Bintoro was my uncle. He’s a decent man. These claims are spurious at best.” Veli is enraged by the deformation these men have dared to deliver unto his ears. Though, it surprises him that they have allowed him his pause. Then he realises why. They have seemingly reached their goal and that is why moments later he is shoved through the opening and into the cell.

“Argh!” Veli exclaims as he nearly tumbles head over heels into the cell, whose thick black evenly spaced bars are slammed shut and locked behind him.

Veli whirls round ready to continue his angry ranting when the taller elf exclaims, “He was your uncle.”

For a moment the comment catches Veli off guard, but the pause doesn’t last long and so Veli demands, “What do you mean by that?” But he gets no answer as the pair shuffle off slowly, clearly not in any real hurry. Though, before the shorter bulkier elf disappears from view he turns toward Veli and with a single swift slash through the air over his throat answers what Veli had been demanding to know. Then the bulkier elf disappears while Veli is left to call, “What will happen to me?”

He makes sure his voice is loud and clear, but he gets no answer. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised and to a point he isn’t, but that doesn’t make him feel any better to be left in limbo.

He sinks to the floor, which is still fashioned from the uneven blocks that this area, which used to be used as storage, has always possessed.

Veli feels broken, defeated, confused and angry. It’s a great many different emotions for him to have rushing through him while his head hangs and shakes absentmindedly. Then despair finally begins to take its hold. The reality of his Uncle’s apparent death as well as Veli becoming sure he too is going to die taking hold. Veli doesn’t think it much of a stretch of his imagination to assume that the rest of his family are dead too. A thousand questions begin to race through his head, and he is sure he will never get an answer to even one of them. That makes the despair he feels even worse.

“What is your name?” A voice says from the ether. At first it makes Veli recoil and then scramble away in shock. He had been sure that he was alone.

Veli wonders if this is some sort of trick of his mind, or a part of some sick game that he doesn’t understand. Either way he has no wish to take part, though it strikes him that the voice sounded real and not imagined. As Veli stares into the darkness though, he thinks he can see a figure. At first the outline is ragged and misshapen, possibly a conjuring of his mind, but as his eyes adjust he realises that he isn’t imagining things and that they are not only real but sitting hunched over awkwardly. The position looks painful but Veli can’t locate the features of the figures face to be able to say whether it is or not. He does manage to answer however, “My name’s Veli, Veli Bintoro. And you are?”

Veli isn’t sure he wants the answer, though he is at least sure that the figure is real now and not a fabrication of his mind. That realisation however, does nothing to quieten the panic he’s experiencing while waiting for an answer with baited breath.

Then the figure leans forward out of the shadows and into a flicker of candle light that reveals his face. It’s a face that Veli recognises immediately. His jaw drops and he blinks slowly while taking in the dishevelled sight of his cousin, Tarin. With the discovery Veli feels his panic and fear drop away. In their place he feels a strange sense of relief wash over him. It wasn’t a feeling he expected, but then nothing had been as he’d expected since his return to Qos.

He does have to admit however, that Tarin looks awful. He’s clad in rags that are dirty and tattered, while his brown hair is wild and unkempt. But it is his cousin’s eyes that haunt him the most as the once lively grey eyes are now glossy and glazed. Still, Veli can’t help but exclaim with a certain amount of joy, “Tarin! Oh am I thrilled to see you.”

“As am I, cousin.” Tarin replies with a crooked smirk. Veli winces briefly in response to his younger cousins’ expression as browning teeth are revealed below his thin and cracked lips.

Veli wonders how long Tarin has been down here but can’t bring himself to ask so instead queries, “What happened?”

“We were setup. That Emersentice bitch. She framed my father, Veli. Had him executed, right before my eyes.” Tarin recounts with brevity. He stares at a section of stone floor a half metre ahead of him as he does. The section of floor is shrouded in darkness, but it is clear to Veli that Tarin isn’t really looking at the section of floor but rather through it. He’s seen the display many times by many people but right now from his cousin it’s haunting.

“There all dead, Veli. We’re all that’s left.” Tarin says after having raised his head to look right at Veli with his glossy grey eyes moments before speaking. His cousin isn’t blind but it is clear that whatever he has endured, over however long he has been forced to, has broken him. Veli doesn’t know what to say to comfort him or if he even should. So doesn’t.

“But how Tarin? How did this happen?” Is what Veli decides to question instead of providing comfort. Veli feels terrible for doing it but he needs answers. He has to understand what happened while he’s been gone. If he does then maybe he can find a way out of this. A way in which both he and Tarin can survive, reclaim their estate and have a chance to live long and happy lives. To do that however, he has to know everything. He just hopes Tarin is willing to speak.

“Polita came to my father a little less than two years ago. She begged for aid because her clan, Emersentice, were struggling to combat years and years of failed crop harvests. We were not the first to be asked, but we were the last.” Tarin pauses just long enough to swallow and then continues. “We had to refuse as we also were coming off a string of poor harvests and could barely get by.” Veli can see that Tarin finds it painful to revisit the events and that he regrets them having to turn Polita down. However, the situation really had been dire for them as well.

“Wessel allowed this?” Veli exclaims in surprise.

“He was convinced to. It was what needed to be done and he hated himself for it. But the survival of the Bintoro was at stake.” Tarin continues. As the filth covered elf speaks he feels the eyes of his cousin judging him and he can’t blame him. Recanting the story aloud makes it sounds as though they turned their backs on the Emersentice out of some sort of callous and selfish desire, but that had not been the case.

“Before she stormed off, Polita swore she would exact revenge for what she called, the greed of the Bintoro. And she held true to that declaration.” Tarin says before pausing.

When he finally speaks again it is clear there is a catch in his throat as he says, “By the time summer came round our clan was embroiled in investigations. Claims of bribery, theft and conspiracy were thrown our way. None of them stuck, and in truth they served solely as distractions and time sinks for the what would follow. Accusations of counterfeiting. Many at first deemed them lies like all the prior accusations and then in came Polita, brandishing ‘proof.’ I never saw the documents but they were seemingly irrefutable.” Tarin then stops unable to continue. The memories of the deaths of his family flash through his mind causing his hands, which are thick with filth, to shake violently in response.

Veli catches sight of his cousins’ shaking hands and feels his heart sink. It would be impossible for anyone not to feel saddened by the state of the man before him. But for Veli the sight is a hundred times worse because he is a relative, by blood. He is the son of the man that took him in when his father died in a highway robbery. That had been the saddest day of Veli’s life, until this one. His mother had died in child birth and though he had mourned her, he had never known her. So it was very different to the tragic passing of his father who he’d known and adored with all his heart.

“We were cast out Veli, like mangy dogs. Our fortune dried up and then Emersentice came with an army of hired thugs to butcher us. And butcher us they did.” Tarin pauses sighs loudly and then adds, “I had to watch as they cut my father down, but she, Polita, refused to kill me. She wanted one Bintoro left alive to suffer like she had to. I tried to fight but they simply beat me to within an inch of death. I’m not sure how long ago that was, but what I do know is that the army of thugs are gone. Except for Yarra and Omin, that is. They’re a more recent addition and were not a part of the thugs that murdered so willingly. But they serve as her protection now. I didn’t know from what before but it seems that it may have been from you.” Tarin finishes.

The long imprisoned elf feels exhausted having just recanted the entire tale, but if that was all he suffered that would be a blessing. Instead, he has essentially lived through it again and Veli can see the pain in his cousins’ face. Still, he doesn’t believe that he is the reason for Yarra and Omin’s presence here. Polita seemed just as shocked to see him as he had been to see her. That means she had not expected another Bintoro and so the presence of Yarra and Omin is for another reason, one that he intends to discover. That is why after a long silence Veli declares, “We must right this wrong cousin. We cannot give up. Will you stand with me?”

Tarin lifts his head, he is weary and his eyes are heavy but he refuses to do his cousin the disservice of not meeting him eye to eye. For a while there is only silence, but then Tarin utters, “If you have a plan cousin then I am with you always.”

It isn’t the ringing endorsement Veli had perhaps been hoping for but it’s enough, for now. A smile creeps across his face as he quickly crosses the open cell and crouches down near his cousin so they can converse without fear of being overheard. Veli has to resist the urge to wrinkle his face up in response to the stench that is wafting into the air from Tarin. To not suppress the reaction would be an insult to his cousin and all he has suffered. Veli has no intention of insulting him. He’s family after all and now they are all that is left of the Bintoro clan.

Veli isn’t sure however, why he is so concerned about the possibility of being eavesdropped on, but decides not to question his rationale and instead begins to explain what he has in mind. There is no way of knowing if they will be successful, but they have to at least try, because there is no doubt that one, or both of them, will be executed before too long.