Jude awoke with a jolt. There was still a shaft of light streaming through a solitary clean spot in a grubby window, which partially illuminated the scene. He rubbed his eyes, and groggily took in his surroundings.
He was sitting on a long bench which stretched along most of one wall. He had set his pack on the bench beside him, and this had stopped him falling over as he slept. The door, through which he had entered, was to his left, about half way between Jude and the far wall. Opposite him, there was an old fireplace which hadn't felt the warm of a wood fire for a long time; there were layers of grey and brown feathers strewn around the blackened hearth. There was still a hint of a smokey smell in the room though. Perhaps the bandits used the area for shelter, just as Jude had, but made fires in another area so they didn't disturb the birds nests.
To Jude's right, there were two windows. Both looked to have been hastily boarded up, and there were gaps where the boards had fallen off. The light was entering through one such gap, but the windows had not seen daylight or rain for a while.
In the centre of the room there was an empty table, with a couple of wooden chairs tucked in on one side. On the other side, Jude could see the remains of another chair. Did the bandits use the chairs to make a fire, instead of searching for fallen branches in the woodland outside? It was a miracle that the place hadn't burned down!
Jude stood up, his thighs and hamstrings aching in protest at the sudden movement, and made his way to the table, where he set his pack down. He walked to the doorway and heaved on the handle attached to the old dark hunk of wood. Stepping outside, he realised that it was not evening like he had thought. He had slept through most of the night; the sun was already lighting the sky above the horizon, chasing the stars to the other side of the world, before making its journey up towards its midday zenith.
It was still very early, perhaps 5 or 6 o'clock. Jude went back inside, leaving the door open, and took out a parcel of food he was going to eat last night before sleeping. He sat on one of the two chairs, hearing the wood creak as it shifted to a new position to support his weight. He tore off a hunk of bread and took a few slices of the dried meat he had lifted from his larder, and sat chewing. His eyes glazed as he stared unseeing at the wall, while his mind was racing. Why was the letter sent to him? Surely there were others who were closer than him, who could be there before him? They must know it would take him days to make the journey... or maybe letters had been sent to all of them, and the first person who made it back would do what needed to be done.
The letter didn't contain many clues, but it didn't have to. The words that had hastily been scrawled on the parchment were all that were needed to make Jude act. It read:
He had seen the insignia before; it was the emblem of the Society of The Reborn, an Order which his parents had founded with a dozen others many years before Jude's birth, when they had found the artifacts.
After his parents had died, when Jude was a teenager, the twelve other founders had attended their funerals. They always wore the same; long black trousers with a red stripe running down the outside of each leg, shiny black boots, a long black trenchcoat with the red phoenix sitting proud on double breast pockets, and a white jersey with red collar.
After the formal ceremony of his father's funeral, two years after his mother's passing, the abbot had approached Jude, during the informal gathering, about accepting his parents' roles in the Society.
"There really aren't many duties that you'll have to take care of on a regular basis," the abbot had said. "You can come and visit the sanctuary with us when we return tomorrow, and see what it is we do. It might help you to recover from the trauma of losing your parents. We will, of course, support and respect any decision you make."
Jude had answered, "Can I come and see what you do before I decide? My mum and dad have... had never really told me much about it."
The abbot nodded. "Of course you can! If you decided you don't want to take up your parents' place, we won't try to change your mind. We would only ask that if anyone asks you about us, you won't tell them where the sanctuary is. There are those who would prefer that our Order didn't exist, and that the artifacts remained lost forever."
Jude had agreed to go. His curiosity had been sparked at the mention of artifacts, and the trip might help take his mind off things here, not to mention the sympathetic looks he would get from the neighbours. The next morning, Jude had packed a bag, left the key with the lady next door, who promised to tend his vegetable gardens and fruit trees, and keep an eye on the house while he was gone.
Just as he had done yesterday, the Society had travelled the North Road past the mountain, and had stayed at the inn at the crossroads.
Jude shook his head to dislodge that old memory, finished the bread and meat, closed his pack and left the abandoned house, forcing the door closed behind him. He turned to his right. The East Road, which would eventually take him near the port, stretched out ahead of him. He set out on the second day of his long journey.
