Читать книгу Nikolaos The Man Of Dreams ...and The Legend Of Santa Claus - Armando Lazzari - Страница 16

Chapter 5

It is when darkness falls that the dark forces love to act, protected from the shadows, to hide their wickedness.

Some monstrous creatures had positioned themselves, according to orders, in the neuralgic points, while others, grinning quietly, sprinkled oil on the fields following in detail the great plan.

None of the inhabitants could imagine what catastrophe would fall upon them, something that would mark them forever...

When a red light suddenly shone in the sky, many were fascinated by the unusual phenomenon, which generated hilarity. In reality it was the signal to unleash Hell. The red abandoned the sky to colour the fields, the fires spread so quickly that any attempt to stem them was useless, the destruction was total and every crop was reduced to ashes and smoke, condemning the population to starvation.

Among the despair of many, who watched the disaster in astonishment, there was a voice that brought thoughts of hope.

"We ask the Bishop for help!

"Yes! That holy man is the only one who can help us!"

"Hurry, let's go!"

So it was that a delegation left for the diocese, hoping that their bishop would not abandon them.

When the loud sound of the clapper finally succeeded in waking up Pétros, some time had passed. With a staggering gait, the little man walked towards the doorway mumbling words almost at random between yawning and yawning.

"I'm coming...I'm coming...but who is disturbing at this time of night? Thank heaven that I open the door, Nicholas would first have beaten you and then, perhaps, he would have asked what you want..."

When he opened the door he was confronted by about twenty men whose faces, blackened by smoke, were illuminated by the light of flashlights.

"Uh...I guess it's not a burnt roast, is it? Nicholas! Nicholas! I think there's a problem!"

The large delegation had gathered in a semicircle in the presbytery around the bishop reflecting, while the little helper walked nervously here and there, causing more than anything else irritation.

"The matter is serious, Excellency..." began one of the group.

"Not a single grain of wheat has been saved, and we don't know how to feed our children..." continued another one.

Pétros rejoiced, happy to have found a solution.

"Found it! We ask the Emperor to provide us with some of his, they have so much of it at the capital that he won't mind giving us a few bags of it!"

Nicholas shattered his dreams like ceramic tiles thrown to the ground.

"They have so much of it precisely because they don't give anybody any, not even an ounce, and then a few bags would never be enough for everyone? It would take at least half a load.

Without losing heart, Pétros brought up another one of his ideas.

"Let's assault a passing ship and borrow the cargo!"

Observing the grim look that the Bishop gave him, the little man became even smaller and tried to make up for it in his own way.

"...obviously without hurting anyone...and then returning the stolen goods...not even that way, is that it?"

"I say: are you stupid, or what? It's called piracy! And apart from the fact that it is immoral and against the laws of God to take possession of the things of others by force, didn't you think that you would then have the entire imperial fleet hunting you down as long as you live? Leaving aside the repercussions for the city! Think before you shoot such idiocies!"

The helper resented the reproach.

"I only wanted to be of help!"

"Well, so you're not!"

"Then say your idea, because you never like other people's ideas! I really want to know how you hope to convince a ship loaded with grain to call at our ports and give us all the goods, in defiance of the imperial laws!" the little man challenged him.

The priest's gaze changed its expression: at first it was absent and vacuous, as if it were dull, then, as if emerging from a long apnoea, it returned to normal and even gave those present a slight smile.

"Finally you said something useful!" exclaimed Nicholas.

"You're joking, aren't you?" replied Pétros, believing himself mocked.

"I never joke when I have visions."

"Visions? What visions?"

Nicholas lied on the ground among curious expressions and unexpressed questions.

"I'll show you, stand next to me and stare at the ceiling. Would you, please, give me your coats as pillows?"

The two of them found themselves with their faces facing upwards. Pétros was embarrassed, but he had witnessed in person the wonders of mankind and was convinced that this occasion would be like the other, then he remembered the last time he had received a handful and his tranquillity suddenly disappeared.

"Boss, can you assure me that I won't receive another punch in the head?"

"The other time we were in a hurry and I didn't know if you would cooperate or not, this time there will be no need, just follow my instructions. Start by relaxing."

The helper took a deep breath of relief and tried not to disappoint the expectations of his principal.

"See that blue dot at the top? Fix it carefully, then slowly open and close your eyes five times. Good. Now keep them closed and think of the sound of the wind blowing through the sails of a ship, along with the lapping of the waves crashing against the hull..."

Pétros did everything he was told, but did not notice any change, at least until, sure of the failure of the experiment, he decided to open his eyes again.

"But where..." he wondered in dismay without finishing the sentence.

What his eyes saw was undoubtedly the wooden pier of a boat and the slight rocking under his feet confirmed it.

"We are aboard the Ule, a muriophoroi4 granary ship docked in the port of Alexandria. They have just finished filling the hold and are ready to set sail for Constantinople, where they will unload the cargo that will end up in the Emperor's granaries," explained Nicholas.

The little guy looked around impressed.

"All right, I don't even want to try to understand how you know these things, but I have to ask you one question: how did we get here?"

"We are not really in this place, but I only projected our minds to it. To be precise, this place is what the captain of the ship sees in his memories while he sleeps".

"Did we end up inside the captain's dream?" asked Pétros.

"In a certain sense...even if this is the initial phase, in which the real world is prepared as a base, to be then remixed with the fantasy of the various memories".

Nicholas tried to capture every single detail in search of something useful, until he spotted it.

"Look at that red glow down there, you can bet it will turn out to be interesting!"

The glow pulsed uninterruptedly and like a flashlight guided their steps towards the target, but when they reached the halfway point, the surrounding landscape began to oscillate forcing them to stop so as not to fall, while the source of light, slowly sinking, was sucked by the axes of the ship.

"And now? What kind of joke is this?" claimed Pétros.

"The captain has entered into the deepest phase of his sleep, and his memories are merging with his dreams...it will now be more difficult to discover the origin of that light.

An imperious wind began to blow against him, becoming increasingly overbearing.

" Boss, is it really so fundamental to know?"

"That's one of the captain's unconscious memories, if he marked it that way it means it's certainly important."

Despite the proximity, the deafening noise of the wind forced the two of them to scream.

"But important for what?" Pétros wanted to know.

"To save the ship from shipwreck," replied Nicholas with ease.

"Shipwreck? Will you stop telling me things as if they were the stew of a stew?" the little guy complained.

"I was referring to the shipwreck which I saw in my vision and which had nothing natural, but seemed to be a malignant work!"

The ship was now moving more visibly, and the water splashes flooded it with every rocking, worrying Pétros.

"So this is the storm that is going to wreck the ship?"

"No, it's only the captain's fears that are agitating his sleep, but which prevent us from discovering the truth." reassured the Bishop.

"So what are we going to do? Do we wait for him to take a chamomile and then try again?"

"We must identify the captain in this place, in his human likeness, and calm him down. Only then can we talk to him and ask him for information before it is too late!"

"I don't know about you, but I don't see a damn thing!" complained Pétros.

"You're right...let's try to create an entrance which will give us the right visibility..."

The Bishop began to wave his stick, describing a semicircle in the air which formed an invisible shield, unassailable by water, which allowed him to see despite the storm.

"While you're at it, couldn't you also create a canopy? I'm soaking wet!"

"The rain is not real, be satisfied and look around you!"

"Yes, of course...as unreal as the golems were, I still feel like my bones are broken!"

"It's only the unconditional reflexes of your mind, and..."

"Found!"

This time it was the goblin who interrupted the Bishop.

"Over there, I glimpsed the figure of a man!"

With a great deal of effort they tried to approach the aft cabin, on which was the captain intent on tinkering with the clavus5.