Anarchist Knight

Chapter 4-Antiquities and Curiousities

This time there was an "open" sign hanging in the window. In better light the shop looked like a fortress. The heavy wooden door had metal bands across it for reinforcement. It looked like it could withstand a battering ram. He tested the latch and the door opened silently inward on well oiled hinges. A small bell rang as he entered.

The smell of burning incense and the glow of burning candles was completely unexpected. A dark shag carpet muffled his steps and he sneezed involuntarily as he stirred up some dust. "Antiquities and Curiousities" was not a normal shop in any sense of the term. He gazed around in awe. It was like being in a museum. The shop was large and divided into several sections, each section set up and displayed according to a historical time period.

He had been expecting to see odds and ends of junk that cluttered so many antique shops. Instead each section was divided not by year but by century. There were complete room like displays of furniture, clothing, weaponry, art, games, toys, reading materials and more. Entering into a section was like stepping into a different world.

He stepped into a display about prehistoric cavemen. There was a replica of a cave painting on a rock. The painting and rock looked like they had been hewn out of the back of a cave somewhere. There was a clay bowl and goblet, three flint knives looked sharp and fairly unused. A hand axe had been used to cut chips out of a log laying in the middle of the display. Admiring it, he picked the axe up, hefted it and gave a couple practice swings. There was a primitive energy and vitality about each item that made him instinctively want to pick it up and start using it. He just knew these items had been made to be used.

A female figure was dressed attractively in furs and armed with a bow and quiver of hand made arrows. There was a small pack on her back and a blanket robe of rabbit fur lying on the ground beside her. She had a necklace of brightly colored bird feathers around her neck and there were price tags on each item. His jaw dropped in disbelief as he looked at a few of the price tags. There was a small fortune in this one display alone.

He realized this shop must deal in specialty replicas. Perhaps theater props. Each item was extremely well made and looked real and functional. The clothing, furniture, weapons and even the leather shoes were all obviously hand crafted. Moving to other displays he could see each item of clothing was crudely woven in the old manner, hand stitched and buttons were hand made. He would have believed he was in some type of museum but no museum carried items in such a perfect state of repair and like new condition.

He wandered for an hour looking at various displays and getting an increasingly troubled feeling that something wasn’t right. He could believe one or two displays of meticulous craftsmanship and diversity. There were re-constructionists that studied the old ways of ancient civilizations and tried duplicating them. But this was different. It was as if someone had stepped back into time and brought back these items for sale in this curious shop. That was absurd of course but the feeling of unease was growing more uncomfortable inside him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that these items were real and that was not possible. He felt a chill go up his spine. These items shouldn’t exist and this store shouldn’t exist. The knowledge and ability to create these things had vanished long ago. No people living today had the knowledge to make these things that were so exquisitely crafted.

This was not an ordinary shop. Dealing in replicas of this quality had to be very expensive and these items very hard to come by. Why would any person in today’s world want to use these old fashioned things or buy them? The only reason Tobal could think of was for theatrical props. In a flash of insight he wondered if Tavistock Educational had purchased theatrical costumes from this place to use at the Halloween dance. He winced and rapidly brought his mind back to the present.

He sneezed again and a blond girl about two years younger than Tobal came around the corner with a smile, wearing a spring colored dress. She was five feet four inches tall and pretty in a plain sort of way. Her eyes were a warm bright blue and danced with humor.

"Bless you"!, she said brightly with a smile. "I thought I heard someone. May I help you, oh"! Her hand went to her face and covered her mouth in a startled manner. She was blushing furiously in embarassment and backing away.

"I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, I was just startled".

He touched his face, relaxed and tried to grin.

"That’s all right", the awkward moment passed.

"How can I help you"? She asked again this time a little nervously.

Tobal eyed her. She was too young to know about the medallion and the faded letter. She was younger than he was. Still his instructions had been to take them to this shop. Slowly and uncertainly he took the medallion off over his head and handed it to the girl.

"I would like to know what you can tell me about this medallion and how old it is," he said.

She looked at it, her eyes widened and her face turned pale. She looked sharply and asked in a snappy voice.

"Are you trying to sell this"?

"No, I’m not. I’m trying to find information about it. It belonged to my parents".

"I have to get father. I can’t talk to you about this", she said quickly. "Make yourself at home and look around the shop a little bit more. I’ll be right back with father in a few minutes".

Tobal watched as she stepped through a curtain behind the main counter. He heard her running up stairs into the living quarters. Suddenly he wished he had taken the medallion back before she had left. He fought down a rising panic. She seemed honest enough and it would be all right. Still he knew he should have never left it out of his hands. He didn’t know her or anyone else in this town. If anything happened it would be her word against his and unlikely that anyone would believe him.

Trying to take his mind off the medallion, Tobal wandered around other areas of the shop looking with renewed amazement at finely crafted armor, ornate weapons, muskets and pistols. Some of the metal still had hammer marks from when it was forged and beaten into shape. Leather boots and woven tapestries competed with rich clothing hand sewn from the finest silks. Oil lamps lit ornate desks covered with hand written books and crude scientific instruments whose purpose he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

Close examination of some items showed that not all of them were new. Some of the items were not only real and functional but had also been used. Some of the armor and weapons were sweat stained and scarred or repaired. He studied a Roman helmet and noticed the leather lining was soft and pliable with sweat stains on it as if it had been used recently. The bronze buckles were highly polished.

When he touched these used items he felt memories enter into his mind. Perhaps he was reminded of past lives when he had known, worn and used items such as these. Perhaps that was why they stirred such deep and powerful emotions within him and why they felt so comfortable in his hands.