CHAPTER 6
I cannot argue what happens after death. I have no knowledge of such.
But here on mortal soil, I know this: Religion can conquer submissive minds
with an axiom that touches the heart, but it can only conquer free minds with
an axe that touches the heart.
- Grentus,
Final words on the gallows
Etyiam
flinched slightly at the thump caused by the secretary closing the ponderous
door behind her. The girl now found
herself seemingly alone in what she knew to be the senator's inner
chambers. The room was round, at least
thirty paces across, and the vaulted ceiling was high enough to allow a game of
hurdleball. About a third of the
circular room's perimeter, opposite the door from which she had entered, was a
continuous bay of huge, scalloped windows that provided a spectacular view of
the city beyond. It was a city bathed
in the deepening orange glow of winter twilight. She could see many of the city's lights beginning to come
up. There were no lights turned on in
the room and the only illumination came from the outside, from the orange
tinted city. Etyiam realized she was
inside one of the enormous, ornate turrets that adorned the upper pavilions of
the colossal senate building.
She
moved warily toward the center of the room, wondering where the senator
was. Etyiam was surprised to see that
despite its vast size, the room was sparsely adorned, especially compared to
the lavish outer rooms through which she had passed. There were very few furnishings.
Centered along the panoramic casement gallery was a massive, but plain,
wooden desk. Its equally unadorned but
comfortable looking chair stood behind it, vacant.
Etyiam
was drawn to the glorious view of Uron.
Even viewed from this great height, the capital city stretched to the
visible horizon and beyond.
"Magnificent,
isn't it?"
With
a silent yelp, Etyiam spun around to face the voice from behind, but found no
one there. It took a second for her
eyes to readjust to the dimness of the room after watching the dusk-bathed
cityscape. When they did, she noticed a
small alcove in the wall, not far from the door through which she had first
entered. Inside, she could see the back
of a kneeling figure facing the tiny altar within. The individual was as still as any inanimate object in the room,
so Etyiam had not noticed the person.
After a further moment of perfect stillness, the figure raised up its
arms, a bit shakily, signifying the end of prayer.
"Assist
me, child," came the voice again.
Etyiam
hesitated for a second. For an Ordinary
like herself to have physical contact with a senator was simply prohibited, but
the senator had also given her a direct order and disobeying such was an even
greater offense. The young girl moved
to the kneeling figure, but stood idly by, not sure how to proceed.
"Your
hand, child... give it here." Etyiam extended her hand out and the old
woman grasped it. The younger female
almost winced at the unexpectedly firm grip and had to fight to remain
steadfast as the old woman used her arm as leverage to rise.
When
finally on her feet, Ampharix towered a head taller than the petite student,
her ornate headdress adding to her already impressive stature. Without a word of gratitude, or even a
glance at her young helper, the great senator walked across the room, the
purple silk of her voluminous cassock billowing behind. She walked silently by her desk and stopped
in front of one of the great windows, looking out, her back to Etyiam.
Unsure
what to do, Etyiam bowed, as demanded by etiquette, to the senator's back,
though Ampharix likely did not see.
While trying to keep the appearance of respectfully downcast eyes, the
young student regarded her superior, whose stoic features she could see
profiled in the glimmering city lights.
Etyiam had seen photos of Ampharix when she was her age and recalled
being struck by the young senator's beauty.
Even now, after almost a century of life, Ampharix was a striking figure
indeed. Her green Priat skin had held
up well to time and didn't seem as thick and saggy as most saurian
centenarians. Though her earlier
struggle to rise from prayer had indicated some infirmness, she yet cut a
stately figure when upright.
"Why
are you here?" the old matron finally asked, not turning away from the
remarkable vista outside the window.
Etyiam
was taken aback by the question. Had
the old politician gone senile?
"Your
matron-ship has summoned me," she answered.
"Yes... I do recall that," replied the aged
senator, seeming almost contemplative, "My legs may not be what they were
when I wore a student's gown such as yours...
but I have not yet lost my mind, child.
Not yet." The towering
Ampharix now turned to face Etyiam and the weight of her foreboding stare
caused the young student to unconsciously gasp and take a step backwards.
"I
ask you again, girl," Ampharix sternly persisted, "Why are you
here?"
Etyiam
swallowed hard. She only had one
answer, but she didn't want to use it.
Ampharix's cold gaze violated her like an x-ray and she felt naked under
the matron's impatient glare. "I
can only assume I have offended my church," the young girl volunteered.
"You
assume..." mimicked Ampharix, not letting up, "and just how might you
have offended your church?"
Etyiam
began to pant slightly, trying to cool herself from the temperature in the
room, which she felt sure had jumped twenty degrees. If she had sweat glands, her robes would have been saturated by
now.
"I
have been associating with persons that the church has discarded," she
hesitantly offered. Etyiam didn't know
why she should resist admitting these things.
It was apparent the senator was well informed of her activities.
Ampharix
seemed to soften a touch; satisfied she had gotten the girl to confess.
"Why
have you done this, young Etyiam?" the senator asked, using the girl's
name for the first time, "Why have you shamed your church so? Why did you do this?" The old matron produced from the capacious sleeve
of her garment a copy of Etyiam's application to be Sarwin's assistant.
Etyiam
looked down at the floor. She felt
genuine shame and could not face the older matron. "I meant no harm," she eventually choked out, "I
only wished to hear what they had to say.
I had no intentions of straying from the ways of church. I swear on my mother's life I did not."
If
this swayed Ampharix at all, she gave no hint.
"You have no idea who your mother is, child. You are an orphan. The church raised you.
The church is your family. And
if the church is your family, then I am your mother." The old matron gave this a moment to sink
in, "...and as such, you remain a part of this family at my
sufferance," she concluded, her voice as icy as a stone out of Scoggast.
Etyiam
grew flush at the thinly veiled threat.
Excommunication would be as awful as death to her and perhaps not as
kind. Without the church's authority,
her existence would be no better than any other gray-skinned Ordinary; low pay,
low respect, low life. As if that
wasn't pain enough, Etyiam truly believed in the goodness of T'Chen. To be separated from her Goddess by an edict
of the church would tear her soul apart.
"Please,"
she implored, "I beg your matronship... do not discard me from the ranks
of the faithful. I swear I will reject
those whom the church has rejected... I
will pledge my life and my soul to T'Chen.
I will renew my vows and adhere to any penance you see fit. Please...
I beseech you."
"Any
penance I see fit," repeated Ampharix, "We shall see. Do you believe in the Goddess, child?"
"As
heaven is my witness, your matronship!" exclaimed the student without
hesitation, glad to get a question she was happy to answer.
"And
do you believe in the divine will of the Temple?"
"To
where the church leads, so shall I faithfully follow," replied the
girl. Two easy questions!
But
Ampharix was unmoved. She held out the
application. "Then what of
this?" she asked.
"I
shall tear it to bits and never again share the same air as a heretic!"
exclaimed the girl, reaching for the document.
The
senator snatched it away before Etyiam could touch it. "You will do no such thing,
child," she said, turning away from the student and resuming her gaze upon
the now nighttime city.
Etyiam
was bewildered. "I don't
understand, your matronship," said the girl, "I wish to serve you
faithfully. Please let me destroy that
odious paper and rid my memory of my foolish acts."
"If
you wish to serve me faithfully, then you will proceed as you were. You will continue to associate with the
heretical Sarwin and his profane supporters," instructed Ampharix,
"...and you will become his assistant, just as you wished to."
"I
don't understand," argued the girl, "I do not wish to associate with
these people." This was not
entirely true, but it was what she thought the matriarch would want to hear.
The
tall senator turned around to face the young student. "Whether that is true or not is unimportant," answered
Ampharix, as if she could sense even the slightest hint of deception, "But
you will do what I tell you, regardless."
"But
I do not wish to be excommunicated, my matronship..."
"Refuse
what I ask and you will be cast out for sure!" bellowed the matriarch,
losing patience, "Do what I say and I can assure you a profitable future
in the priesthood. There are those more
conservative than I who would see you banished to the hinterlands of
Garath. I can protect you from them, if
you do my bidding. Do I make myself
clear? Can I count on you to do as
I... request?"
Etyiam's
mind raced. Certainly, this was not a
request in any sense of the word.
Furthermore, she had to admit to herself that the prospect of
socializing with Sarwin, with not only the church's blessing, but also its very
decree, was not the worst punishment the old matriarch could have meted
out. This was too good to be true. There had to be a price.
"I
will obey my church," she finally answered, "though I do not
understand."
"Your
understanding is not important, child," replied Ampharix, "only your
obedience."
"I
will obey your matronship."
"Excellent,"
said the old Priat, with what almost looked like a smile, "I have one
other request of you..."
Here
it comes, thought Etyiam.
"Yes,
my Matronship?"
"It
pleases the church to know what its adversaries are up to," explained
Ampharix, "Where they go, who they talk to, what they say behind closed
doors. As the heretic's assistant, you
would be privy too much of this information.
You will keep me... informed.
And you will tell no one of this.
No one. Do you understand?"
A
spy! The ancient matriarch wanted her
to be a spy! She should have seen this
coming. Etyiam was troubled by the
notion. Spying was a form of treachery
and the Scrolls were very explicit about treachery. Considering the power the old senator had over the young student,
she should have just accepted the assignment without question, but this
concerned her soul and that was the paramount concern.
"I
am troubled, great matron," she said, trying to sound humble and choosing
her words carefully, "the Scrolls tell me that deceit, in any form, is
forbidden; yet the Scrolls also insist I follow the commands of my church. Before today, I have never known a situation
in which one part of scripture conflicted with another."
Etyiam
had expected the old Priat to explode in fury, but instead Ampharix seemed
reflective. "You are young yet,
Etyiam," she said, turning to look back out the window, "and your
inclination is to read the Scrolls literally.
Yes, the Scrolls were inspired by the word of T'Chen herself, but the
Scrolls were actually written by matrons, who are as infallible as you or
I. How could they not fail to grasp
every nuance of meaning in God's great plan?
Try as they might, our language is quite insufficient to capture the
thoughts of a God. Do you see?"
"I
think so," stammered Etyiam, though not really sure.
"I
doubt that," said the senator, "but this is bigger than your
understanding, child. What you need to
know is that true, unspeakable evil exists in this universe, young Etyiam, and
it is the church's duty to fight it, and to fight it with any means at its
disposal. The future of our people
depends on it."
Ampharix
turned and looked at the young student.
Perhaps she could see the doubt in the girl's expression.
"I
mean that literally," the old matron continued, "tell me, child. Have you ever seen a Vartyiar? I have.
I don't mean I saw some vision of a demon in a dream, I mean I saw one
with awakened eyes. I felt its horrid
hair with these very hands. Its stink
filled my nostrils. Trust me, child,
there is a Scoggast. It is very real
and if we are not careful, it will take over the World. I mean that in the sincerest possible
way."
Etyiam
regarded the old Priat matron. It was
obvious she was telling the truth. At
least, the truth as she believed it.
Etyiam thought hard. Who was
she, a mere child of nineteen years to question the wisdom and knowledge of
this great matron? If she said that
spying on a heretic was necessary to ensure the safety of the World, who was
she to argue? Besides, the choice
between living as an excommunicated exile, or in the company of the charming
Sarwin was an easy choice, once the philosophical concerns were put to rest.
"I
will do as my matronship requests," she finally said, with a slight bow,
"but it is still possible I may not be selected to assist the
heretic."
"Don't
concern yourself with that," replied the matron, "I assure you that
you will be received by him."
The
fix must be in, thought the young girl.
"As you say, my matron," she replied, with another slight bow.
Ampharix
pushed a button on her desk. Within
seconds, the senator's secretary opened the door through which Etyiam had first
entered and stood there, waiting for her to exit.
"Go
now, child, and remember our agreement," commanded the senator, "I
will expect to see you again soon, when you have something to tell me."
"By your leave, good matron," said the gray-skinned girl with another bow and then turning, followed the secretary out of the room.
Passing
though the center room with the stolid secretary, Etyiam had to fight to keep
the joy she felt from bubbling childishly to the surface. Though she felt the urge to skip and sing,
she mimicked the dignified pace of the senator's assistant. What luck!
Not only could she openly fraternize with Sarwin under the church's
blessing, she was helping save the World from evil to boot!
In
the outer room, she passed the same Ordinary hand servant who had first let her
in. She grinned at him, but he looked away,
pretending not to notice the young girl's smile. Etyiam shrugged and walked out the door. It was a big city and the evening was
on. She would find someone who would
appreciate her good mood.