The Informer
The Informer
The farmer's tough body had become bent into a ball, as his hands were trembling and an abnormal purple color appeared on his skin. These abnormal purple spots would cohere and turn into black spots, which would spread all over the body within half a day, and he was considered to be strong enough not to be infected until today.
The priest said, "I know you. You're Rock Hill, living in the eastern district, and you often bring us some fresh wheat grain."
"You... remember me! That's great, Your Reverence," he repeatedly kowtowed and said, "All my family members are infected with a demonic epidemic. Please give us some holy medicine, please..."
Ferry said slowly, "But what have you brought for us this time? You know that the holy medicine is so precious that it can't be given at will, but you can exchange it with your sincere heart."
Rock Hill said in a trembling tone, "In order to buy medicine, my money was all cheated away by Rats, so please forgive my insincere heart by seeking the black market as a shortcut. Now all I have is an egg, please accept it." Rock Hill pulled out an egg from his bosom and held it above his head with two hands.
Ferry received the egg with a smile on his face and said, "When pinning your hopes on the black market, fraught with fraud and unfairness, you'll certainly end up with punishment. But God will always help those lost sheep like you. As long as you're aware of your error, you can go farther on the road of pilgrimage. Stand up. God has forgiven you!"
"Rea-really?" Stone Hill said unbelievably.
"We, the messengers of God, never deceive commoners." Ferry waved, and another believer holding a box of medicine came forward. Then Ferry picked up four bottles to hand over to the farmer. "If I remember correctly, you have four family members?"
"Yes, Your Reverence." Rock Hill swallowed his saliva and held the bottles in his hands. He bent down to kiss the priest's shoes. "Thank you! Thank you very much! I'll devote myself to the church and to God for the rest of my life!"
Believers beside them were all moved by this scene and cheered, for a sincere believer was joining the big family of the church.
When the cheers stopped, Ferry lowered his hand down to make everyone quiet and said loudly, "The next one."
…
This medicine distribution ceremony lasted until sunset.
As the clock of the king's city rang at its integral point, Priest Ferry announced that today's ceremony was over and that it would begin again tomorrow. Even though commoners begged him to stay, he left the hall.
Although he was a little exhausted, he felt very fresh. Standing in the hall to hear the commoners' pleas and dreams, and watch them ingratiate himself, Ferry could not help feeling like he was God himself.
"No, the church itself is God," Ferry thought, "It developed the demonic plague and its medicine so that it could control commoner's lives easier. Its power is no different from God." Ferry could not help feeling that the best choice he made in his life was to plunge himself into the church instead of inheriting his family business.
Nobody could stop in the presence of such power. Could a rich merchant or a powerful noble? In the face of death, they all would abandon everything in exchange for an opportunity to live.
Back to the resting area in the apse, a priest came forward in a hurry and whispered in Ferry's ear. "Your Reverence, Rats reported that there has been something wrong."
"About what?"
"Refugees of the Eastern Region. But he insisted on telling the details after seeing you," the priest replied.
Based on instructions of the church, Ferry should make full use of the demonic plague and antidote to convert many believers to the church for Hermes. So it was part of his plan to draw in refugees who, compared with residents of the king's city, were not so important. In his plan, in two or three days when half of those homeless died, he would go out of town to spread medicine to them, and make them become residents of the king's city at the same time. Hence, 90% of residents of the king's city would become believers of the church. With such achievements plus what he had done for the Royal Decree on the Selection of the Crown Prince, Ferry would even set foot on the road of becoming a bishop.
Regarding blood and identity, the church was quite fair to grant rewards to the due person. As long as a believer made a great contribution, he could get a promotion.
Is there something wrong with the refugees?
Ferry hid his doubts and said calmly, "Take him to the secret chamber and I'll be there soon."
"Yes, Your Reverence."
Ferry took off his priest's robe and took soft armor out of the wardrobe to wear. Then he wore a loose coat and checked himself against a silver mirror, walking toward the secret chamber.
Ferry met that "informer" in a small room in the basement—messy hair, sallow face, as well as his thin and dry arms, in which could be seen the bones' shape. Oddly, there were not black spots on his body.
The moment the informer met Ferry, he kneeled down and said, "Your Reverence, I'm Needle and I have very important intelligence to tell you."
"Go ahead."
"But..." He looked up to see the other people in the secret chamber and stopped speaking.
"It doesn't matter. This's my right-hand man, Priest Shattrath, while the other one is Hera, responsible for guarding and cleaning up this room and she never leaves here," Ferry explained to him.
"I'll tell, but you've promised me..."
Ferry shook a small blue bottle impatiently. "The potions are here. If your intelligence is worthy, I'll cure your demonic plague."
Needle looked up and said confidently, "Your Reverence, I can guarantee that this intelligence is well worth it. Someone is sending refugees away and I've witnessed that ships are everywhere in the canal. I'm afraid that they would carry all refugees away in a few days."
Ferry frowned. "Those black spots patients? Are you sure?"
Ferry had heard that there were ships to carry away refugees of the Eastern Region, but he had thought that it was normal—after all, all nobles of different domains would like to purchase a batch of laborers at a quite small cost when other domains suffered natural or man-made disasters. In any case, when the demonic plague came into effect, God would punish those stupid refugees. However, now that the demonic plague had gotten rampant, why did someone still accept them?
"No, they have cures for the demonic plague! Mercenaries help patients drink a kind of strange water, and then the black spots soon disappear. Besides, someone claims that they came from the Western Region and that as long as refugees go onboard, they would obtain food, houses, and remunerations." Needle paused and continued to say, "But the most incredible thing is that there're witches."
"What're you saying?"
Needle shouted, "I'm quite sure, Your Reverence. Dressed up as one of the refugees, I went onboard and I didn't find out until someone jumped into the water to escape. Mercenaries on land soon ran after him and at that moment, I noticed that a dark shadow in the sky wasn't a bird, but a flying witch. I was so stunned that I waited for an opportunity to jump into the water after the ship sailed away for a few miles and the witch disappeared. It almost took one day for me to swim back." He rubbed his hands and continued to ask, "Your Reverence, don't you think the intelligence is worthy of a bottle of holy medicine?"
"Wait a moment, you've mentioned that they have cures for the demonic plague and you've already drunk it. And now, you're healthy?" Ferry asked him anxiously.
"Ugh... that's right. But you've said that if I have valuable intelligence, I can..." Needle smiled embarrassedly, revealing his uneven, yellow teeth.
"So, he wants to sell this available holy medicine on the black market." Ferry thought for a moment and said, "How many people are there? Are you sure that they are mercenaries of a caravan?"
Needle scratched his head, saying, "I'm sure. They don't have armor or horses, and their weapons are wooden spears. There're 100 people at most."
"The ships belong to which family?"
"I don't know because most ships don't hang flags. What's more, even if they had flags, I can't recognize them. But according to the mercenary, the ships will go to the Western Region. He also mentioned that this is recruiting of the Lord of Border Town. It seems that the lord needs more men to reclaim land. That's all I can remember."
Ferry took a deep breath, pulled out that blue holy medicine, and then threw it at Needle, saying, "Well, it's very important intelligence. Take it, it's yours."
"Thank you, Your Reverence." Needle was in a panic to catch the bottle, but he suddenly trembled and his eyes widened. Standing behind him, the old Hera had used a short sword to cut through his neck.
.