EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE - DUSK
Driving snow pounded the steep slope. Feet bound in animal
skins plunged into the pack, sinking to the knees.
ELOUAN's eyebrows were caked with frost as he scoped out the
distance he had yet to traverse -- though in the darkness of
the storm, he really didn't know where or how far he had
come, much less the further he had to go. His torchlight
twisted and danced within the gusts, nearly drawn to
extinction by the cyclonic currents. Nevertheless, the light
held true, matching his own determination to survive. The
cold of the wind and blasting snowfall stung, but fortunately,
it was only the split in the mask at the eyes where he was
exposed. The rest of his face, and thankfully the rest of
his body, remained warmly wrapped by various animal furs.
He trudged down the towering hillside of THE FRENCH ALPS,
keeping a watchful on eye on the erratic flickering of the
torch while also protecting the knapsack hung over his chest.
He didn't carry much, but what he did bring he considered
crucial to the success (and survival) of his mission.
A sudden gust resisted his descent, forcing him to stop.
The impact nearly knocked the wind out of him. He steadied
himself. He imagined becoming the eye of the storm: the
center where all things can churn about, but where he would
remain in unshattered peace. It was a focus he knew he would
have to master -- not just to survive the onslaught, but to
accomplish the very quest he had left his mystery school to
achieve. Could he overcome the fear sure to tempt him?
Having spent most of his life in the high Alps, he had been
bathed in the serenity of the Muein mystery school compound
tucked neatly away within the colossal mountain peaks. The
temple's brightly painted stupas, arched halls, and stone-
fenced courtyards remained cleverly hidden, shielded from
the valleys below by the angle of the summit pinnacles. The
community of nearly five hundred initiates and seven master
teachers lived peacefully atop and within the mount, the
outer temples supported by a labyrinth of caverns and
underground living areas carved into the bedrock inside the
heart of the slopes. The architectural design was quite
deliberate. It was meant to keep everyone living there hidden
from the outside world. The wisdom and skills taught at the
mystery school stretched back centuries -- no one really
knew how long -- but had long since been forgotten by society.
Elouan knew his fear would come when such knowledge would
inevitably clash with the modern way of life, when a member
of the temple descended to engage the chaos of civilization.
Such engagement was expected in order to advance from Guardian
Priest to Master Teacher, though this was not the reason he
advanced into the storm. Nonetheless, the true test of a
Guardian such as himself required the Pilgrimage of Service,
where one entered the world and helped others in a way that
would hopefully elevate consciousness (if only slightly) by
inserting pieces of the long-lost wisdom back into humanity.
It was a dangerous mission -- made even more dreadful by the
herald of screams from the faraway East.
His mind wandered ... carrying him back to his departure
from the school and his last goodbye to his closest friends.
INT. CAVE - DUSK - FLASHBACK
GOLDA and WIMARC, around their early 20's, stood aglow within
the soft light of torches perched in sconces carved into the
rock walls of the small cave. They blocked Elouan from
reaching the cavern mouth. Golda reluctantly helped him don
his furs.
GOLDA
Surely you remember hearing such
anguish in the orient?
WIMARC
And you have never traveled into
lands of such darkness before.
ELOUAN
Darkness is not something to be
feared, or else the sun would never
shine.
GOLDA
Then what of us?
Elouan understood her uneasiness. The clouds outside
blackened the stars beyond the grotto, and the incoming winds
trumpeted the cries of a sinister wraith.
EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE - DUSK - PRESENT
The snow pelted Elouan, bringing him back to the present.
He dropped to his knees, planted the torch, then clawed into
the snow. He suddenly grabbed the light before the wind
could carry it away. The flames dimmed to a lonely ember in
the gale. Would it survive the night... he wondered.
ELOUAN
Yes, it will endure, as all things
must.
The phrase brought a smile to his lips still kept warm inside
the mask. It was the same acknowledgement delivered by his
master before he embarked on this dangerous journey.
Oh, Master Euric. What a perfect, gentle soul. The
enlightened guru gave his tranquility to everyone who visited --
a gift he hoped to instill in all his students, including
Elouan. Such peace embraced Elouan when he knelt before him
at the temple alter, just hours earlier. The master had sat
most of the day, lit only by candles. The warm orange glow
glistened off his white satin robes, creating a radiance
that made him stand out like a heavenly mediator amidst the
ornate tapestries adorning the walls. Elouan wondered if it
was that sense of divinity he craved when he touched his
knees to the polished floor. He had already made the decision
to embark upon the quest; he wanted the celestial promise of
success -- not only for himself, but for his master and the
home he was leaving behind. He remembered how lightly the
peacock feather blessed each of his shoulders as Euric tapped
him, evoking his spring of compassionate wisdom.
INT. MONASTERY - HOLY CHAMBER - DAY - FLASHBACK
EURIC
We will endure as we always have.
As so shall you.
EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE - DUSK - PRESENT
Elouan calmly slid another ice block into place. The torch
flame burst more brightly than it had all night, now protected
behind the height of the packed snow shelter. Fortunately,
his revelry with the past shielded his muscles and mind from
the task of its construction amidst the onslaught of the
storm.
With relief and satisfaction, he raised both arms triumphantly
and tilted his head back in a joyful blend of man with nature.
Then he faced the flame, knelt, and takes its warmth upon
his face. The heat returned his mind back to his friends,
in the cave of his departure.
INT. CAVE - NIGHT - FLASHBACK
Elouan kissed Golda on the cheek, and then Wimarc. At last,
the light of the torches revealed him: a youthful mid-
twenties, yet eyes that brandished the wisdom of an old soul.
ELOUAN
You know I must do this. My mother
beseeched me.
GOLDA
Please speak with us.
WIMARC
Warn us of danger when it happens.
ELOUAN
Wimarc, you and Golda worry too much.
Summoning her courage, Golda wrapped Elouan's face with the
fur.
GOLDA
Your passage would be much safer by
the calming presence of the morning
sun.
ELOUAN
Remember, even the tapestry of night
cannot suffocate the light of the
stars.
Elouan threw the knapsack over his head, allowing it to land
gently upon his chest. Then he grabbed a torch from the
wall. For brief moment, he considered its radiant flame,
then retreated into an ORANGE GLOW coming from outside.
Wimarc and Golda watched as he stepped away, clearly torn by
his mission.
EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE - DUSK - FLASHBACK
A warm haze of firelight bathed Elouan as he began his quest
across the snow covered hillside.
Several caves dotted the high expanse, just below the great
walls of the Muein temple complex. Two or three MONKS flanked
each dwelling.
A lit torch was passed from one monk to another. Each lit
their own torch from the initial flame, creating the glow
over Elouan's departure.
All manner of nationality peeked out from behind the heavy
furs of this humble group. Caucasians, Black, Asian, East
Indian. Males and females alike.
When the last torch was lit, the group raised the glow high
into the air and HUMMED IN UNISON a tune that ECHOED across
the mountain range.
INT. MONASTERY - HOLY CHAMBER - DUSK - FLASHBACK
The humming carried into the temple's Holy of Holies chamber,
where the school's seven masters formed a single row and
prostrated before a tapestry painted with a brilliant orb
representing the sun. They were, in their own sacred way,
praying for Elouan's safety as he began his odyssey into the
wilderness.
EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE - DUSK - FLASHBACK
The humming of his comrades filled Elouan's ears as he trekked
down the mountain, bathed in the splendor of the vigil.
The snow and wind picked up ... then consumed him in its
darkness.
EXT. BASE OF MOUNTAIN - DAY - PRESENT
Brilliant sunlight danced on dewdrops as the snowpack gave
way to shrubbery and the inviting entrance of a forest grove.
Elouan sat on a large boulder and undid the twine tying his
boots. In no time, he dressed into a silk tunic, trousers,
and stockings ... then rushed through the woods, a brilliant
smile from ear-to-ear.
EXT. FOREST - DAY
Elouan trotted around shrubs and knelt at a thick, stocky
bush. He adored the plant, seeing the stalks of NEW GROWTH.
He gently snapped one of its soft branches and took a hearty
BITE from it.
EXT. RIVER - DAY
Some time later, he found himself along the banks of a river.
He dipped his hands into the rapids, feeling the water cascade
like a jubilant kiss upon his skin... then splashed his face
with the blessed spring.
A BEAVER suddenly came up beside him.
Elouan slowly extended his arm and -- amazingly -- SCRATCHED
THE MAMMAL'S CHIN. Their eyes met ... and it seemed a message
passed between them.
(Elouan LAUGHS)
The creature bound into the river and swam to its lodge.
She was met by two kits peeking above the wood.
ELOUAN
Thank you! It was nice meeting you!
EXT. FOREST - DAY
A squirrel bounded from tree-to-tree on a highway of branches.
Elouan chased after it from the forest below.
The critter led him out of the woods onto a barren dirt road,
then disappeared into the next grove.
EXT. DUSTY ROAD - DAY
ELOUAN
You win!
Elouan stopped at a fork in the road. A post with wooden
signs pointed in various directions: ROME, AVIGNON, TOULOUSE,
BOURDEAUX.
He hesitated, waiting for one of the signs to beckon his
attention. None of them did.
He dropped to his rear and dug into his belongings, pulling
out A WORN PIECE OF LEATHER with a faded symbol painted on
it.
ELOUAN
Not too long now from the spring
equinox for this great year of 1347
... So how old does that make this?
He clenched it tightly in his fist, then closed his eyes to
focus more deeply into the fabric.
INT. WOODEN SHACK - DAY - FLASHBACK
Like a sword piercing his gut, the memory of YOUNG RANULF,
20's, a man infuriated, assaulted his awareness. Elouan saw
him pull his hand away from ROESIA -- a young, plain but
beautiful peasant woman.
Roesia yanked at Young Ranulf's clothing, gnawing at the
LEATHER SASH with the symbol on it, the very one Elouan was
holding.
YOUNG RANULF
It will be the end of us!
EXT. DUSTY ROAD - DAY - PRESENT
ELOUAN
Where have you gone?
Elouan closed his eyes and fell into a meditative state.
EXT. DUSTY ROAD - DUSK
A colossal galactic umbrella of pink and purple clouds
stretched into the coming night while Elouan remained in the
meditative pose.
Behind, a pack of WOLVES were sneaking up. The lead wolf
bared his fangs -- ready to strike ... silently ... cunningly.
Elouan, back still turned, eyes closed and silent, raised a
hand as if to say "STOP."
The pack, strangely, were frightened by the message and leapt
back into the forest.
EXT. DUSTY ROAD - NIGHT
Within hours, rain drowned the countryside, soaking Elouan
in the deluge. He hadn't stirred. The downpour flowed over
his face and cascaded as tributaries into the bowl of his
lotus-seated legs.
EXT. DUSTY ROAD - DAY
When morning arrived, a brilliant sunbeam spotlighted Elouan,
still held deep in meditation. In fact, the length of facial
stubble revealed he'd actually been here for days.
A deer and its young fawn sniffed him, then ... finding him
quite queer, returned swiftly into the forest.
(APPROACHING WAGON).
WAGONER MAN
Ho! Whoa!
WAGONER WOMAN
What is he doing?
WAGONER MAN
I don't know. Hey - you - get out
of the road!
(PAUSE). (SOUND: Man and woman coming off of wagon.
Approaching).
WAGONER WOMAN
Is he asleep?
The man poked Elouan ... but the young lad failed to stir.
WAGONER DAUGHTER
Is he dead?
WAGONER MAN
We'll leave him be!
(SOUND: Returning to wagon and riding off).
EXT. DUSTY ROAD - DAY - LATER
Elouan at last opened his eyes to spy a falcon soaring away
with a dead prize gripped in its talons. Its trajectory
followed the shadows of the forest treetops married in perfect
alignment with one of the roads. Elouan knew, that was his
answer on where to travel.
He stood, feeling the growth of beard upon his face. With a
smile, he hoisted his pack and hiked down the boulevard.
EXT. ROADWAY/FOREST - DAY
A deer was munching the grass alongside a narrow forest road.
Suddenly, the nearby trees and branches RUSTLED in agitated
frenzy. Spooked, the fawn darted away.
RACHEL
No. No!
Rachel leapt out of the woods. She angrily wiped tears from
her cheeks, then re-attached the braid pulled loose from the
side of her face with a quick reinsertion of the hairpins.
With a tug, she repositioned the wimple back over her hair
and chin. Her breath pulsed with fury, while a patch of her
chest laid exposed -- the first few buttons of her worn linen
kirtle undone.
JEHAN, slightly older than her, remained in the foliage,
hidden from the waist down by the bushes.
JEHAN
Rachel! 'Twas nothing.
Come back.
RACHEL
I thought such things only came after
the ringing of bells.
She mounted a tired old horse bridled to a cart filled with
chopped stumps.
RACHEL
No idle hands, Jehan.
She rode away, passing an expensive white stallion tied to a
tree. The steed was the epitome of youth and vigor by
comparison to her mare.
Jehan, resigned, glanced at his hand, then down to his waist
hidden behind the bushes.
JEHAN
Well, my friend, here we go again.
EXT. JUNCTION - DAY
The waters of the Mediterranean twinkled in the bright sun
as Rachel reached the crest in the hill leading down to the
old port city. The mosaic of buildings appeared quite
inviting but was still at least a half-hour away, down the
slope of the farmland plateau. Nonetheless, it shined like a
beacon along the bay -- a wealth of stone and wooden buildings
stretching a few square miles and capped by a wondrous
cathedral. A stone rampart surrounded the town, wrapping all
the way to the inlet shores, complete with defensive parapets.
A single massive wooden gate provided entrance and exit,
presently open for all visitors. Rachel sighed with relief,
knowing soon she would be safe within its walls.
First, she had to traverse the potholes of the earthen
roadway. She had come from the eastern woods, which was a
highly traveled road that easily succumbed to erosion from
the many visitors on way to the town. As she jostled upon
the cart bench, she spotted a lone stranger approaching from
an adjoining road that came in from the darker forest lands
of the west. The young man had a lightness in his step, with
a sack of belongings draped over his chest.
A pair of birds zipped over Elouan as he approached the fork
that joined the eastern and western paths to the main road
descending toward the city. He smiled after the singing
chaffinches, a grin that spoke an affirmation of gratitude
more than surprise. Their song came as a lilting reply to
his appreciation, then they bolted ahead of Rachel on her
way to the city gates. Rachel jumped, startled by how close
they came to grazing her head. Fortunately, the soothing
notes of their song brought a pleasant smile to her lips.
Elouan paused, captivated by the sight of civilization in
harmony with the sea. It had taken a few days to get here
since he rose from meditation, and he had found many wonderful
stops along the way. He wondered if this would outdo them
all. He could feel the excitement building; a chance to
witness cultured life beyond his monastic school home. He
was ready -- his mind, education, skills, all set for whatever
tests were ahead. So far, he had successfully vanquished the
challenges already encountered, as evidenced by the
cleanliness of his clothing and hygiene -- his face washed
of dirt, plus earlier that day he had shaved. Though his
shoes and stockings showed a film of dust, such was expected
from so great a trek.
The sudden bleating of the sheep captured him. He turned to
see that he stood on the edge of a farming hamlet spread out
upon the plateau overlooking the town below. A half-dozen
small cottages with equally small fields dotted the landscape,
a few separated by fences, with a larger manor house rising
up in the far distance behind, as if standing sentinel, with
a much larger pasture for planting. At the edge of the tiny
village, artisans busied themselves with hammers and saws
constructing a new parish church, the fa ade and framework
nearly finished. Elouan also noticed a mill with a water-
wheel slowly churning along a small creek at the eastern end
of the community, near an orchard of fruit trees, just along
the border to the eastern woods. The fields were farmed as a
combination of wheat and grass, with livestock to help work
the crops or as slaughter for food. It appeared the land was
being readied for planting as a nearby farmer guided his
plow behind a burly ox.
Elouan marveled at how all of life erupted in that single
glance. There were ewes helping newborn lambs wobbling to
stand for the first time; a pair of farmers coaxing and
cheering as they assisted a cow to give birth -- the calf
falling out its mother's backside, covered in caul.
FARMER
A little early, but we'll still take
her!
Elouan spied a peasant woman grabbing a racing chicken and
hauling it into the hovel, no doubt for supper. Indeed, the
fullness of existence was happening in that single moment.
ELOUAN
It must only be a fragment of the
wonders happening in the city.
He noticed the anticipation pushing toward a sense of
impatience, like opening a chest for the first time and diving
in to uncover the treasures. He wanted to make fast to the
urban center and its waterfront, but also knew he couldn't
rush the journey, lest he miss something of its grandeur.
Nevertheless, the eagerness of revelation put a jaunt in his
step as he descended the sloping road leading to the town,
seeing the cart of the young lady who came before him already
far in the distance, leading him on.
EXT. CITY - MAIN ROAD - DAY
Cobblestone and earth stretched into a street through a dense
packing of tenement buildings. TOWNSFOLK crowded, wandering
everywhere.
Rachel, passing by on her horse, spied through open doors:
-- WOMEN prepping vegetables over a hearth, laughing at
CHILDREN playing around them.
-- DOCTOR MASCI (also known as a Barber Surgeon) piercing a
PATIENT's forearm and catching the blood in an urn.
DOCTOR MASCI
This will help drain the infection.
-- Then passing the open Dutch door of the NOTARY SHOP. The
sign advertising his services was being re-hung above the
door, as one side had fallen loose a few days earlier from
wind and rain. It ran down the list of his services --
contracts, marriage, wills. Clearly, the sharply dressed
lawyer was engaged in the last of these offerings, as Rachel
could see he was consoling a distraught woman with three
weeping children.
NOTARY
I am so dreadfully sorry for your
loss.
Rachel concurred. Her heart sank at the thought of the poor
children growing up without their father. How much did they
know him? Would his widow regale them with tales of his
strength, compassion, and heroism? For sure, she also grieved
for the wife. Hopefully her husband left behind adequate
finances for home and servants to ease the burden.
Nonetheless, her mind kept returning to the kids. She knew
intimately what they were about to face: the emptiness; the
unanswered questions; wondering about the future that might
have been; and the loss of so great a relationship.
The thoughts consumed her for a few blocks, only to be broken
by the realization she needed to steer clear of the women
milling about in the middle of the road. They came one after
the other, dumping chamber pots into the gutter that ran
down the center of the street. One particularly elderly
lady sneered as she tossed her slop into the trough. The
contents were thick, soupy, and dark -- much more than a
night's batch of stinky urine.
ELDERLY WOMAN
Out to the bay with you, shite.
Rachel scrunched her nose to politely avoid the cesspool
stench without offending the citizens. Fortunately, she
turned down another street, leaving it behind.
EXT. TAVERN - DAY - MOMENTS LATER
Here, she found more shops, including one of the more popular
pubs in town. Already, its doors were open and patrons were
crowding about. She recognized Mathias, a large brute of a
man, stumbling out with a wooden goblet still in hand. He
downed the beer with a single gulp. (BURP)
He then meandered to the middle of the road, dropped his
drawers and pissed in the gutter.
LOOSE DOGS suddenly scrambled across Rachel's path. She
quickly steered the horse and avoided them. Then she wound
around WILD PIGS munching on a heap of garbage. Throughout
all this, her horse kept watch on the obstacle course of
waste piles and scavenger animals, both wild and domestic.
From the shadows, black rats reconnoitered for their next
meal.
EXT. LIVERY STALL - DAY - MOMENTS LATER
After another few blocks, she landed at the livery. As she
put her mare into one of the outside stalls, two small boys --
Leo and Gladwin -- rushed in, clashing wooden swords in play.
Leo was the smaller at 5 years-old and was clearly being
outdone by his 7-year-old opponent.
RACHEL
Oh -- some brave knights, I see.
LEO
Crusaders.
GLADWIN
We shall vanquish the Holy Land of
the infidels, we will.
RACHEL
I'm afraid not today. Now, instead
of "vanquish," why not you vanish
out of the business of the streets?
Go on now.
She kissed Gladwin on the forehead then ushered them off.
GLADWIN'S MOTHER
Gladwin! Leo! Do not fuss with the
neighbors.
RACHEL
Lambkins!
GLADWIN
See you tomorrow!
LEO
Alright!
Rachel went to the back of the cart. She paused, still caught
in the throes of her encounter with Jehan. Annoyed, she ran
a hand through her dirty hair, then grabbed a bucket filled
with the chopped wood.
RACHEL
Boys. Always taught to conquer and
not to love.
EXT. ANOTHER CITY STREET - DAY
Rachel carried the heavy bucket in both arms, winding around
wild chickens and ducks as she navigated the dirty street.
She passed her friends, SARAH and CLARICE, as they dumped a
cauldron of muck into the canal that ran down the edge of
the road. The young girls sneered at the putrid smell and
waved at the cloud of flies zipping about. There were several
mounds poking above the water line this day ... after all,
it was the communal cesspool for dropping waste.
A nearby black rat sniffed the aroma on the breeze.
Sarah spotted Rachel and chased after her.
CLARICE
Sarah! The madame ... What are you --
SARAH
A moment.
(CATCHING UP)
SARAH
So?
RACHEL
So what?
SARAH
Rachel, he is the son of a nobleman.
They don't usually hold interest
outside of their own ranks.
RACHEL
You think he would honestly make me
a noble woman? Jehan may be gifted
with nobility, but today he showed
himself to be as plebeian as the
next ne'er-do-well.
Sarah stopped, dumbfounded, as Rachel kept walking away.
SARAH
Are you daft?
INT. COBBLER SHOP - DAY
Within a few moments, she turned down another street and
entered a small cobbler shop. Her father, Umfrey, knelt
over a bench, plucking an intricate pattern into the top of
a leather shoe with a small metal poker. His arched back
spoke to years of service, along with the thinning grey hair
upon his head.
RACHEL
How fare ye, Poppa?
Instead of acknowledging her, he addressed a pair of dusty
sandals dangling on the wall before him.
UMFREY
At last, she returns with bounty
that should have taken half a shadow
to retrieve. ... Idle hands, my dear,
idle hands.
RACHEL
Idle hands, indeed.
EXT. CITY GATE/MAIN ROAD - DAY
Elouan anticipated a wondrous entrance as he approached the
gate. He could see the tops of the tenements rising just
beyond the wall, and the voices of the citizens rolling out
like a strange yet alluring kind of music. He couldn't wait
to dive in with all his senses once he passed onto the
cobblestone streets. He didn't mind the sentries perched on
the parapets controlling the gate; every city needed its
guard. An introduction to the modern world was only footsteps
away and he was brimming with joyous expectation.
He stopped just as the ground transitioned to stone. Instead
of being hit by the brilliance of civilization, it appeared
rather chaotic to him. Most wore dingy clothes, their hair
matted from lack of hygiene, wandering aimlessly or without
direction. There were a few that seemed to have some purpose,
but even they looked rundown or otherwise caught in turmoil.
The buildings also looked as though they needed repairs and
were standing purely by grace rather than architectural
design. The whole of the town's decay confused him. The
energy that spurred him evaporated and he stood transfixed
in a futile effort to comprehend the disorder.
A haggard middle-aged woman, Mazelina, leaned out her second-
story window with a chamber pot in hand.
MAZELINA
Look out! Look out below!
STREET PEOPLE dispersed as she dumped the bucket's liquid
poison -- aiming for the piss gutter and sorely missing it.
A YOUNG WOMAN'S fringe was painted with the slosh.
Elouan remained speechless as the whole incident unfolded.
As soon as it past, a wandering pig nestled its snout into
the gutter, searching the urine for a prize.
Elouan then spotted a market where displays had been set up
showing various fruits such as oranges, bananas, and other
offerings. He watched an attendant pick up an apple from the
base of a stack and destabilize the whole lot. A pair of
apples careened off the stand and went rolling into the
street, coming to an abrupt halt in a pile of horse manure.
The laborer quickly grabbed them, but to Elouan's horror, he
sparsely wiped them on his apron and then settled them back
on the stand.
Elouan found the coughing coming from a family towing a
covered cart, entering the city alongside him. He noticed
the father buckling from the hacking. His wife, concerned,
placed a hand on her husband's forehead to check for fever.
The elder man winced, then inserted a palm under his armpit,
as if feeling something there. Elouan followed the cart,
offering a silent prayer.
A dog barreled across his path, forcing him to stop.
Elouan panned around, soaking the sights in, but not in the
way he had hoped. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply to
ground himself. Even among all this, he knew, the brightness
of life was outpouring its glory; it just took more effort
to spot it in the grime. However -- with such effort -- he
could feel it, if only mildly. The vitality, though
suppressed, was still present. With that, he smiled. When
he opened his eyes, nothing had changed save for his focus,
but he knew that alone may tease out what was so hidden in
the recesses of urban confusion. The notion inspired him to
continue. He strolled down the street, a bit more at ease,
knowing that right around the corner something wonderful
could happen.
INT. 2ND STORY TENEMENT ROOM - DAY
GIOVANNI, WILLIAM, and TIVOLD, young rogues in their 20's,
sat at a table and played backgammon near an open window
looking down on the street.
GIOVANNI
Take that, you crooked-nose knave.
TIVOLD
Churl. I bet your best sheep --
WILLIAM
You'd like his sheep, wouldn't you?
Tivold tossed his pieces at William, then glared at Giovanni.
TIVOLD
A pound to you too.
Tivold leapt to his feet and threw a punch at Giovanni.
Giovanni caught the fist. All of a sudden, he SPIED ELOUAN
OUT THE WINDOW. Elouan looked clearly out of place: his
clothes were slightly outdated, his cleanliness rather
unusual, and ... more importantly CARRYING A KNAPSACK OF
GOODS.
GIOVANNI
Lookee here.
EXT. MAIN ROAD - DAY
Elouan was delighted to have validation of his new sense of
focus rewarded when he spotted a mother embracing her child
after buying him candy. The love between them was most
endearing. The emotional brilliance intensified when Elouan
saw another set of parents suddenly take off running with
their four children, stirring up a flock of birds that had
settled in the street. Then he spotted a pair of lovers
caressing each other as they rode a horse.
He paused briefly, noting an intersection in the roadway.
Which way to turn? He hoped he wouldn't have to wait several
days in meditation to find out.
Giovanni, William, and Tivold emerged from their tenement,
seeing Elouan as he turned down the road heading toward the
bay. They did their best to look inconspicuous as they
crossed the street to follow.
Elouan wasn't aware they were trailing -- his mind too
preoccupied with the sensations pouring through him. Unlike
the first intersection in the forest, the direction of where
to head was instant and distinct. It gnawed at his gut and
commanded his attention, pulling him like an invisible rope.
He kept his awareness firmly on the impression, the side-
effect being a sort of tunnel vision that didn't allow him
to become aware of other things going on around him. Even
Rachel's voice, clearly heard through the upper half of the
open Dutch door, didn't register in his ears as he walked
by.
RACHEL
What are you thinking, Poppa?
INT. COBBLER SHOP - DAY - CONTINUOUS
UMFREY
I know he can be a passionate man.
(Rachel SIGHS).
UMFREY
But you cannot marry for love, my
sweet daughter.
RACHEL
So you would wish me to be miserable
the whole of my life?
UMFREY
No, of course not. But it is when
you marry for love that you would
know true misery.
RACHEL
I am sorry, Poppa.
They embraced.
UMFREY
You look more like her with each
passing year. It be her birthday
this week, on the day of Mass, you
know.
RACHEL
My soul cries that I never chanced
to know her.
(SHOUTS interrupt o.s. They hear "NOT HERE!" and "GO BACK!")
RACHEL
What is going on?
She opened a pair of shutters, revealing the pier a short
distance away. A MOB was gathered on the docks where a
Genoese navi vessel was moored. The trading ship was
colossal, with a holding compartment that could carry nearly
a ton of goods. It boasted two large sails, the largest being
the forward mast towering nearly ninety feet high, with a
smaller aft, nearly seventy feet -- longer than the rounded
hull of the ship itself. Two large superstructures adorned
the upper deck at the bow and rear, typically used for housing
special passengers, notables, the helmsman, and the captain.
Speaking of which ... the captain had already stepped off
the vessel, which resulted in the chaos of the crowd
surrounding him.
EXT. PORT - DOCK - DAY
The Genoese skipper staggered as he forced his way forward.
Several members of the gathering scowled as he drew nearer,
offended by the rank smell of his attire. There would
normally be a stench clinging to the clothes of those bound
to the waterways, as they spent days or weeks exposed to the
elements, however with this seaman, the stink bore a much
more sinister odor. It literally stung the nose and beckoned
the thought of rotting flesh. Indeed, the crowd saw red and
black splotches, about the size of coins, discoloring his
chest through the slight opening of his tunic. He also kept
a hand firmly pinned under his right armpit, as if protecting
something there. Many kept a distance, though they could
not find the courage to stop looking.
Merovech and Baldwin didn't have the luxury. As port
watchmen, it was their duty to protect the pier -- and by
extension, the city beyond. They, too, were uneasy about
approaching the sailor, especially when they noticed the
rest of the crew remained aboard the vessel and were oddly
silent -- no bustling about; no preparing to offload cargo.
It was contrary to every trading vessel looking to dock. In
fact, Merovech spotted a few clinging to the upper rails
suddenly collapsing to the deck. So much so, the closer the
captain came, the higher he leveled his pike spear at him.
MEROVECH
We want nothing of whatever you are
trying to sell here. Return to your
ship.
CAPTAIN
Help us.
Baldwin covered his mouth from the captain's stench. He
noticed the seafarer's fingers were also BLACK WITH GANGRENE.
CAPTAIN
Some have mutinied. I have them
imprisoned below decks. We barely
made it here.
BALDWIN
Our doctors cannot help you. Now
back up on your ship there.
EXT. MAIN ROAD - DAY
The commotion grabbed the attention of passers-by on the
port road. As Elouan arrived and took in the scene, he too
focused on the ruckus, but with a distinct sense of knowing.
Understanding the situation felt like a dark cloud rushing
to embrace him, though he wouldn't allow it a victory in the
overall depths of his spirit.
He closed his eyes and moved his awareness deep into the
center of his consciousness. After a moment, he found that
special place within, where he linked into something much
greater and more expansive than his own individuality.
ELOUAN
Surely, they can be spared.
Unfortunately, the subtle vibration that responded would not
give him the reprieve he had asked. Rather, it felt like a
colossal stone pulling him into the core of the earth; his
muscles compressed as the sensation of being confined to a
prison girdle became heavier and heavier.
He opened his eyes, resigned to the reply.
Several yards behind, Giovanni and the others spied from
behind a cart, more interested in him than the commotion at
the port.
EXT. PORT - DOCK - DAY
(WHAM!)
CAPTAIN
Mercy!
MEROVECH
Get back up there, we say!
BALDWIN
We do not want your filth here!
The captain removed the hand from underneath his armpit. The
tunic had been sufficiently torn to reveal an apple-sized
welt bursting from his side. It was a mixture of red and
black flesh, protruding outward from his trunk.
MEROVECH
Get up there. Go.
CAPTAIN
Pray. Pray for us.
MEROVECH
Once out in the bay, you may discard
your dead. But be out of here.
EXT. GALLEON SHIP - MAIN DECK - DAY
(SOUNDS OF AGONY)
CAPTAIN
Drop our men.
The helmsmen stooped over the wheel, having expired upon it
while the captain was off the ship, his face crooked on the
spokes and splotched with a hideous rash, in addition to the
dried blood upon his lips. Another sailor clung to the
railing and gasped in a cough that echoed of a death-rattle --
with a huge mound of rotted flesh bulging from his neck,
larger than the captain's own bubo under the armpit.
Everywhere it seemed, not a single crewman was left untouched.
Several had discarded their clothes in the furnace of their
fevers, lying naked upon the deck, yet also shivering in
delirium. Others had cast off their pants to reveal a horrid
lump on their inner thigh, near the groin. For some, this
lump was the size of a walnut, the others a large ball --
but for everyone, a discolored knob that bespoke incredible
suffering. Oftentimes, the skin at the base of such carbuncle
was painfully red, creating a crimson ring around the mound.
The exhausted sailors hesitated as they considered their
abandonment by men and God. The intolerable agony of it
all. The headaches, the fever, the throbbing of their bones
so harsh, the blood vomited from their lungs so fiery Were
they forever to be without sanctuary? Were they to remain
eternal prisoners on this ship of doom? Some couldn't hold
out any longer. In fact, they suspected to receive no help
even before the captain landed, so positioned themselves at
the railings and waited for the confirmation. Now made,
they threw themselves overboard. Depending on where they
stood, they met their final breaths by the joy of drowning
or the harsh impact of the pier.
EXT. PORT - DOCK - DAY
A few of them were dead as soon as they hit the deck, while
the others welcomed the bludgeoning.
More port watchmen raced in, aiming bows to strike any sailor
who might swim ashore. Such fears quickly vanished when
they saw the mutineers floating dead on the incoming waves --
a stunning and pitiful sight.
EXT. GALLEON SHIP - MAIN DECK - DAY
The captain shoved the helmsmen from the wheel. He grabbed
the spokes of the tiller and hurried to steer while nodding
toward a few crewmen struggling to handle the mast. The duo
heaved the massive sail to position it for evacuation. One
of them suddenly plummeted to the floor. The sickness
appeared to jump back on the captain, as he also collapsed
to his knees. He swayed as the world circled torturously
around him, then tumbled onto his back.
CAPTAIN
No... Heavenly father, have mercy.
(GASPING FINAL BREATH)
EXT. PORT - DOCK - DAY
Merovech and Baldwin gazed with pity as the vessel sailed
out into deeper waters. Disgusted, Merovech wiped the
skipper's splatter from his boots.
MEROVECH
Poor bastards.
BALDWIN
God cast his judgment, I wager.
Smoke suddenly billowed from the vessel's portholes. Not
only were the mariners discarding corpses and throwing
themselves into the sea, they were also burning the ship!
INT. GALLEON SHIP - BELOW DECK
Though the people onboard ship were ready to perish, the
rodent stowaways in the cargo hold were not. The frantic
colonies of rats scurried to find salvation amidst the
billowing smoke and rush of seawater pouring in. Many
squeezed through disintegrating planks, escaping to the safety
of the open water, while others kept to crates or other debris
that floated among the vessel's charred, flaming innards.
No matter how they escaped, the rats either swam or waited
to reach shore by way of the floating remains.
In any case, they would survive. And so would the deadly
fugitives they carried on their backs.