Justinian

MYAKES

Brother Elpidios, I tell you the truth, I never came so close to pissing myself as I did in that damned pipe. I was blinder then than I am now. I can tell the difference between light and dark to this day. I can't see anything, mind you, but I can tell the difference. There wasn't any difference to tell, not inside that pipe there wasn't. It was all black, nothing else but.

I would have had the screaming hobgoblins in there, I think, if it hadn't been for Justinian. What? No, he didn't pat me on the shoulder and keep me brave, or anything like that. Yes, I'll tell you what I mean, if you let me, Brother. What I mean is, if I'd gone to pieces in there, I figured he'd tell somebody to cut my throat or knock me over the head, and then everybody behind me would have crawled over my body and gone on.

Let me put it like this: frightened as I was, part of me knew it wasn't a real fear, if you know what I mean. I was doing it to myself. I could feel I was doing it to myself. I couldn't stop doing it, but I could slow me down a little.

And I knew being afraid of Justinian was a real fear. Can't think of one any realer, not offhand. Stand between him and getting into the city then and you'd end up with footprints up your front and down your back- and a knee in the balls for good measure.

Was I more afraid of Justinian than my own imagination? Brother Elpidios, you'd best believe I was. You would have been, too.