Alcander's Fantastic Voyages: Part 3

Many things have been made clear to me. Many dark things. Things I would rather not know. Things within myself that I must look harshly upon.

My own father has betrayed me, I think. But no worse than I have betrayed myself.

I was not lied to. They did bring me my father. He made many things clear. Things that perhaps would have been best left unclear.

The Heracletian Knights are not, it seems, looked upon highly in Greece these days. We were great and noble warriors against the Monotheists, but it seems some believe we have outstayed our welcome. There have been rumbles in the senates and councils and oligarchies of some of the more distant citystates that the Knights ought to be disbanded, that they control too much wealth and too much power. Distant, as I said.

The order has responded by disbanding those governments, and taking the cities. And, it seems, they want my father to assist them. He has great pull, and many ships, and they have promised him exclusive export rights on any number of goods for his assistance.

It would be good, I think, to have those who follow the path of Heracles in command of the cities. Many of them are unruly and villainous places. To have those who could root out evil at it's core could be a potent thing.

But I cannot approve of my father's role in all this. To participate in such an enterprise for greed: what good would that do? I owe respect to my father, of course, but it seems he is nothing more than a crass profiteer, riding on the coat tails of paladins, no better than the likes of Hrogar. I cannot support such aims, and so I cannot support him.

And so I told my father, that I could not take a knighthood that was offered to me only because of my father's wealth, for wealth itself was against the teachings of the order.

He laughed at me, and I was angry with him. Now I know why he laughed.

I was taken after that to a fete in my honor, to try to sway me. The food was fine, and I was commanded to drink wine. I did, though I should not have. I do not know what manner of things were added to that wine, but it was far more potent than it ought to have been.

The rest of the night was a blur, but I remember too much. I remember my commander ordering me to partake of more wine. I remember finer food than was proper. I remember being put in finery far above what befitted my station.

I remember women, being brought out in finery that surely cost more than it covered. I remember gambling, being ordered to play the dice games that brought about my downfall, and I remember...

To say that it was an orgy would surely not do the thing justice. There were men, surely, as is only proper. But the women did not remain covered for long. And other, stranger things. And all of it I was comanded to participate in.

I swore a vow to obey my superiors, and so I did. I obeyed them again and again, encouraged by the wine and whatever else they fed me.

And in my obedience, I broke every other vow I was called upon to follow.

And now I sit in my cell, my head pounding, the morning light too bright. It is all I can do to pray to Heracles. Pray to him for guidance. Pray that he will show me what I must do in the light of this, this mockery of his laws.

I believe that the law of Heracles ought to be the law of this land.

I am no longer certain of the law of Heracles is to be found among his order.

Heracles, have mercy on my soul.