Joseph

JOSEPH WAS HAULED out of the doorway and onto the street. The sun shone directly into his eyes as hands clamped painfully around his arms and ankles. Fingers dug into his flesh. With all his might he tried to kick out, to wiggle his hips, to at least raise his head so he could see who was taking him and where he was going. But it was useless. He couldn't even bend his elbows or flail his legs.

Panic and frustration overtook his senses, and he started screaming. An animalistic roar that stemmed from deep inside his gut.

"Shut him up," a gruff voice ordered, and a dirty rag was plunged into Joseph's open mouth, gagging him.

He clamped down and accidentally bit his tongue. A metallic taste coated his mouth, and he nearly retched.

Calm down. He ordered himself. It wouldn't do any good to drown in his own blood. He inhaled deeply through his nose and tried to absorb any detail that might help him make sense of what was going on.

The men who held him were a sea of blue and white. They were dressed identically, almost like they were wearing a uniform. And they were tall and muscular and walked with disciplined determination. What were they? Soldiers? Guards? But why?

Joseph heard a voice call out in the distance. It somehow made it to his ears through the cacophony of the streets. "Let him go!... Joseph, can you hear me? I'll get you out. Don't worry!... Hey, get your hands off me." Joseph strained to hear more, but it faded away. Adso. Adso was here. It was a spark in the darkness.

So many questions. He had so many questions.

Adso was here. In Venice. It was all going to be miraculously over. But now he was being dragged off by God-knows-who for God-knows-what and... and... frustration threatened to erupt in his chest again. The bitter tang of blood and the musty taste of the dirty rag kept Joseph from crying out, but tears sprung to his eyes. It was all too much.

Suddenly the light changed, and the air cooled. He was back indoors. The footsteps echoed as he was marched down a stone corridor. A door slammed and Joseph was thrown roughly down onto a chair.

One of the guards then took a thick rope and bound Joseph's arms and legs, tying him to his seat. The gag was left in his mouth. Once he had been secured, the gold necklace was carefully lifted from around his neck.

The guard bowed slightly and handed the necklace to a man who Joseph hadn't noticed before. Had he been there the whole time? He looked noble, with a fine silk shirt and thick gold rings on his long delicate fingers. Torchlight cast dancing light and shadow across his thin face and cold steel eyes. He took the necklace with care and contemplated it, saying nothing.

Joseph's heartbeat reverberated in his ears as the silence stretched on. Something about the nobleman froze him to his spot.

His eyes darted around the windowless room. A long crack splayed jagged and harsh across the slab-stone floor. Dark rusty stains dripped down from metal rings that protruded from the smooth walls. The space was empty except for a sturdy oak table and two chairs: the one he was tied to and a finely carved one where the nobleman sat. Joseph counted four guards standing at attention. Two by the exit and one on either side of him. The air was so still that it was suffocating. His nostrils flared as he attempted to suck in deeper breaths.

Why was he here? It had to have something to do with the necklace. What curse had Grimbert laid upon him? Joseph wanted to scream that he was innocent, but he didn't dare.

The man continued to ruminate on the necklace, turning the pendant and rubbing the chain. Tears rimmed his eyes. Finally, he looked up at the guards and nodded. He stood, his movements as graceful as the flow of water down the canals, and exited the room without so much as glancing at Joseph.

The interrogation never came.

Instead, Joseph was roughly untied, hoisted up, and dragged out of the room. They went down a hallway, and then down, down, down a set of stairs. The darkness became more ominous; only licks of light from torches softened the edges of Joseph's sight. Then he was unceremoniously dumped into a cell, a thick wood door with an iron-barred window locked him in.

Joseph scrambled to his feet, ripped the gag from his mouth, and ran to the window. "Let me out! I did nothing wrong," he screamed. "Come back and let me out! This isn't right! On God's honor!"

His voice was swallowed by the darkness. No reply came. Frustrating bubbling over, he banged at the bars and let out a scream that tore at his throat.

"Shut up," growled a voice from down the hall.

He was so surprised to hear an answer that he felt a flutter in his chest. "Hello? Can you help me?"

"Shut up," the voice repeated. "You'll get your trial. Just shut up."

"My trial? When?"

"I don't know. But shut up. I was trying to sleep."

"Where am I? Who took me prisoner?"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" the voice snarled.

"I'm sorry, I really am, but please, can you tell me anything else?"

Joseph heard someone let out a long moan followed by a soft thud. The voice didn't answer, even when Joseph repeated his plea.

For a long moment, he remained standing at the bars. As his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting. Finally, he turned to take in his surroundings. The cell was so small that he wasn't sure if he'd be able to lie down. Not that he wanted to. The walls were damp, and the air reeked of mold and urine and human waste. Horse stalls smelled better. A pile of dirty hay was thrown in one of the back corners and an empty bucket stood in the other.

Joseph sighed, and sat down, defeated.

Grimbert. That no good, sneaky, vile, piece of garbage. He was here because of him. There was no doubt in his mind.

A new wave of anger crashed in his chest. Alone and in the dark he let his thoughts drift away into the stormy sea.

Would he ever see the light of day again? He could die here. Die alone and forgotten in a cell for some crime he didn't commit.

But he would die as Joseph. The thought floated across his consciousness. And he found the idea oddly comforting.

He shifted how he was sitting. The unforgiving stone was cold and uncomfortable, but he did not trust the hay. The last thing he wanted was a sharp bite from an angry rat.

The voice from the dark had said there would be a trial. So, maybe there was hope. Maybe it wasn't his time to die. He had made it back to Christendom, hadn't he? And Adso was here. Adso had followed him down the street and promised to get him back to safety. So, maybe not all was lost. He would be freed and would be reunited with his cousin and they would travel back to Loconge and everything would be back to normal.

Except, he realized, when he went back to Loconge he would have to go back to being Hildegund, wouldn't he? Back to the confines of femalehood. That was its own kind of prison. Its own death sentence.

He was filled with sudden agony. He didn't know what would be better. To die as Joseph or to live as Hildegund.

Joseph felt his throat tighten. His head fell into his hands as his body was suddenly racked with sobs. Nothing about this was fair. He was a prisoner, both in this rotten cell and in his body. What choices did he have?

Were there any choices?

He remained hunched over and sobbing until he had run out of tears. Snot dripped down his chin. His eyes burned. He felt so drained that he could've fallen asleep for a year.

He had no choices. He had control over the situation.

Or did he?

Well, no, not right now he didn't. Locked in this cell. In this cage like an animal. But what if he did get out? What if Adso really could get him free? It would be like being given a second chance. An opportunity to take charge of his own destiny. And if he really would rather die as Joseph then live as Hildegund, well, that meant he would be willing to risk it all to make it happen.

No one had doubted his maleness in Tyre. Strangers accepted him as Joseph without a second thought. So, that was it. He couldn't return to Loconge. At least not for long. He would have to find a new city to live in and establish himself as Joseph.

It was a big idea. Huge. Overwhelming. But people did it, didn't they? Hadn't Grimbert traveled to different towns as a journeyman?

That was it! He would need to get an apprenticeship. He already knew some of his numbers and letters. The education he had received from his father would be his greatest gift. He would use his knowledge to make an opportunity for himself.

He just had to have faith in Adso. This nightmare had to end before his dream could begin.