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CHAPTER 34

I do not hate T'Chen, nor those who believeth in Her.  I abhor those puritans who compel Her ways on others.  If Her ways are so true, then live them well and be Her example.  But if you impose them on us by edict and sword, you but drive us further from the faith.  The Goddess Herself does not force Her will upon us.  What right, fellow mortals, have you?

 

-Sarwin Kliat Aria,
Letter to the Conservative Party, 5451

 

            Etyiam eyed the ornate doors nervously.  For anyone other than an ordained senator to pass through them meant death.  Yet Ampharix had summoned Etyiam here, just two days before her departure back in time with Sarwin, and commanded that she enter.  Etyiam knew the old matron was waiting for her beyond those doors, secluded in the senate's private chapel, its innermost sanctum.

            A sentry stood at the door, dressed in the ornate purple and black of the temple guard.  Etyiam was uneasy about approaching her.  But as the girl timidly approached and was about to explain to the guard why she was there, the rigid sentinel sprang into motion, startling the young caller.  She opened one of the doors, then gestured inside with a military snap.  Etyiam was expected.

            The girl entered and the soldier closed the door behind her; sharply, but soundlessly.  The senate chapel was a large chamber, as befitted its purpose, but it was much less ornate than most T'Chen temples, which surprised Etyiam.  In fact, it was utterly austere.  In the center, wearing only a simple purple robe, stood Ampharix.  Etyiam bowed.

            "You expected more," said the elderly matron, seeing the girl's reaction to the place.

            "I...  I did not know what to expect, your matronship," answered the girl, "I did not believe I would ever stand in this place, so I gave little thought to its appearance."

            "Most new senators who see this place for the first time expect to see gold and gild beyond equal," continued Ampharix, "but this is one of the most hallowed places of the goddess's divine presence and that is gild enough.  Anything our crude hands could place in here would be unworthy."

            "I see..." answered Etyiam, unsure how to react.

            "You are wondering why I have summoned you here," the old matron continued, "no doubt you have drawn some conclusions as to my purpose already."

            "I have, my matron," replied Etyiam, in a respectful voice, "but I am curious as to the location.  I have always been taught that only a senator may trespass here."

            "Senators, yes..." answered Ampharix, "and on occasion, those being considered for the senate."

            "I cannot presume to believe that I could possibly fall within that definition, my matron," said the girl, confused.

            "We have been watching you, young Etyiam," continued the matron, "Your theological studies have been faultless and you have never spoken ill of your church."

            "There are many that would meet that standard, my matron," answered the girl, unsure of where the elder matron was going.

            "True," agreed Ampharix, "but they lack your... special... qualifications."

            "But your grace," protested the girl, holding out her hands, "My skin is gray.  There are no gray senators.  And I have no birthright.  Furthermore, I am well known to associate with heretics.  There is no one more removed from the model of a senator than I."

            "The very qualifications of which I speak," replied Ampharix, "Trust me, girl, a year ago I would have agreed wholeheartedly with your assessment of your qualifications.  But times are changing and the senate must change with them.  And if there must be change, then it is better to be seen as a proponent of that change, least one be left behind by it."

            "I am not sure what her matronship is asking of me," said the girl.

            "Etyiam," said the matron, "The people are clamoring for change.  Our males are becoming discontent.  The Ordinary caste is becoming unmanageable.  The minor churches and the soulless secularists are demanding greater voice in governance.  We must give them something that will placate them, or our world will change and it will not change peaceably."

            "What can such as I do to prevent that?" asked the girl.

            "We need to show the people that we are willing to change with the times," answered Ampharix, "I believe a new senator; one who is young and gray-skinned; one who has no known connections to the establishment and one who occasionally fraternizes with heretics, might gain enough credibility with the disenfranchised to prevent a revolution.  Or at least forestall one."

            "But I am far too young to be a senator, my matron," protested Etyiam.  This proposal was preposterous.  The old matron was trying to trick her; play her for a fool.  She wouldn't fall for it.

            "Too young right now, yes," answered Ampharix, "but it will only be a few years until you reach your 27th birthday, the minimum age to be a senator.  In the meantime, you can wear this."

            The old senator reached into her sleeve and pulled out a bronze medallion, about the size of Etyiam's palm.  The girl recognized it right away as the emblem of a senator apprentice and it bore Ampharix's stamp dead in the middle.

            Etyiam was amazed, but wary.  "Her matronship would have me as her apprentice?" she stammered.

            "I am considering it," replied the senator.

            Etyiam buttressed her courage.  "There is a price for this, is there not?"

            The old matron smiled with wicked approval.  "Ah, the first glimmerings of wisdom.  There is a price for everything, my child.  That is the first thing a senator must know."

            "I will not harm Sarwin, my matron," stated Etyiam, "If that is the price, then I must refuse."

            An expression of anger flashed over Ampharix's previously calm expression.  "No one refuses the chance to be a senator, child!"  The old matron then seemed to realize she had lost her controlled demeanor and a curtain of calm befell her once again.  "Besides, that is not the price.  Not necessarily."

            "Not necessarily?" said the girl, incredulously, "Under what conditions would you considerate it necessary?"

            "Look, Etyiam," said Ampharix, seeming to soften a little, "I know you realize I hold nothing but hate in my heart for Sarwin and I will confess there have been times when I would not weep at his demise, but his death would not necessarily be the most ideal solution to my problem."

            "With all due respect, your matronship, I got a good look at the person who tried to kill Sarwin last month, just before she blew herself up.  I saw her in your office just weeks before, wearing a priest's vestments."

            Ampharix seemed unfazed.  "The bomber was a priest?  I recall reading that nothing identifiable remained of her.  Perhaps it was a priest.  There are many who so despise the heretic that they might desert their vows of passivity for the chance to kill him."

            "Why was she in your chambers?"

            "I see many priests, child.  Regularly.  It is what I do.  If you have some accusation to make, I recommend you choose your words carefully."

            Etyiam shook her head.  She decided not to press the matter.  Though her suspicions were as acute as ever, nothing positive would come from hurling accusations of conspiracy at a senator, especially with no proof to back them up.  She decided to change the subject.

            "What is this problem you speak of?"

            If Ampharix was relieved by Etyiam's decision not to pursue her suspicions, she gave no sign.  "As you are keenly aware, in two days hence, you will be joining Sarwin and his fellows on a journey back in time.  You will be going back to the age of Shradia and the prophets; to the very time when the Scrolls were first inscribed on parchment.  This is an awesome undertaking, one not to be taken lightly."

            "I do not, my matron," replied the girl, earnestly, "This is a great honor for me."

            "What honors you does not concern me, child," replied the old senator, "Do you know why you are going on this journey?"

            "Yes, my matron, to act as the official observer on behalf of the church for this expedition."

            "I could have chosen anyone to do that," scoffed the old matron, "Try again.  Why are you going?"

            Etyiam was confused.  It had bothered her why Ampharix had singled her out to go.  Surely, there were many other candidates in which the old senator would hold far more trust.  Candidates who had no ear for Sarwin's teachings.  But because of her delight in having this opportunity, she did not dwell on the question as much as she probably should have.

            "I cannot say for sure, my matron," the girl answered, "I cannot presume to believe you hold the greatest of trust in me."

            "You presume correctly, child," replied Ampharix, "but Sarwin holds greater trust in you than anyone else at my disposal.  He will confide in you, at least to a degree.  He is less likely to try and deceive you than any other person I could send on this journey."

            "If you say so, your matronship," replied the girl, unsure of how to take this, "I have always been honest with Sarwin, so I see no reason to believe he would be otherwise with me."

            "I should hope not, but I expect you to be on your guard just in case."

            "What reason has he to be dishonest, my matron?" asked the girl, "We are going back to the age of the prophets.  What else can be found there other than T'Chen's glorious truth?"

            "Nothing, I'm sure," replied the senator, "but he may choose to deliberately not bring back evidence of god's truth, no matter how obvious it is.  He may even try to bring back false evidence supporting his heretical theories.  You are our guard against that, child.  You must be sure that what knowledge is brought back only reaffirms the truth of the Scrolls, nothing else.  Are we in agreement?"

            "Oh yes, my matron!" answered Etyiam, in earnest delight.  This was easy.  It was exactly what she intended to do anyway!  "Don't worry, I will make sure that we bring back only the truth!"

            The senator did not share in the young girl's delight.  She regarded the younger matron with an expression of stone.

            "You misunderstand, child," she finally said, "You are not to bring back merely the truth, you are to bring back the truth of the Scrolls.  Any other truth is not the truth and you will not bring it back here.  Is that understood?"

            "But the truth is the truth of the Scrolls, my matron," the girl protested, confused.

            "Of course it is," answered the senator, with a slight sneer, "but even if Sarwin is honest, Yeetas and his wicked brood are always looking to deceive the righteous.  He may make it seem as though the Scrolls are false.  You understand the Scrolls cannot be shown to be false."

            "I will not be deceived," said the girl firmly, shaking her head.

            "That is easy to say, child," chided the senator, "but you must be prepared.  You recall the story of Caxette from the Scrolls, do you not?"

            "Of course, my matron," replied the girl, happy to know the answer, "Yeetas killed the husband of the pious Caxette and took her husband's form.  So disguised, Yeetas used artifice and disingenuous talk to sway Caxette that the love of T'Chen was false and he lured her away from her goddess.  Then T'Chen came to Caxette in a dream and told Caxette to ask her husband if he loved his wife.  When she asked him, he was unable to answer.  The illusion was shattered and Caxette saw he was the repugnant Yeetas, and she drove him from her holy house forever."

            The old matron smiled slightly at her young charge.

            "It is you who may find yourself in the role of Caxette, child," said the old woman, "Learn from her wisdom and the insight of the Scrolls.  Do not be deceived.  T'Chen is the all and the only, never forget that."

            "I will not be deceived, my matron."

            "Whom do you serve, child?" asked Ampharix.

            "I serve T'Chen in all her glory, my matron."

            "Never forget that, girl," said the senator, "So I have your word, as a disciple of T'Chen, that you will not permit anything but the truth of the Scrolls to follow you home from this journey?"

            Etyiam swallowed hard.  It was obvious the old woman would not settle for anything other than the answer she wanted.

            "You have my word, my matron," she said, looking down at the floor.

            "Even if it means death for Sarwin?"

            The girl remained silent.  She felt ill.  She could not harm Sarwin.  She loved him.  If only the old woman could see that.

            "I am not blind, girl," continued the old lady, as if she could read the girls very thoughts, "I know you have feelings for the heretic.  That is why you must remember the story of Caxette.  Ask him if he loves you and you will know what he truly is."

            "I cannot kill, my matron," said the girl, almost weeping, "it is against my nature and my goddess."

            "You will do it if you have to," insisted Ampharix, "if you want to be a senator, you have to do what is necessary to protect the Scrolls."

            "I don't care about being a senator," said the girl.  She did, of course, but not enough to kill Sarwin over.

            "Girl, I lose patience with you," growled Ampharix, "You will do as I ask.  If you do, you will be a powerful senator someday.  If you do not, you will be nothing.  Are we in agreement?"

            Etyiam just wanted to turn and run, but stood obediently frozen in place.  The old matron was giving her a choice; ultimate wealth and power, or death.  The girl was not certain the old woman would keep her promise on the first option, but she was sure she would keep the second.

            "I will see to it that we bring back only the truth of the Scrolls," Etyiam finally said, feebly, "No matter what the cost."

            "Good, very good," said Ampharix.  Etyiam just kept looking at the floor.  After a moment of silence, the senator spoke up again.

            "I know you think I am evil, child" she continued, "and that I am demanding you to do evil acts on my behalf.  But all is not as they seem.  There is real evil in this World, Etyiam.  Yeetas is real.  Scoggast is real.  The Vartyiar are real.  Remember the story of Caxette and keep the wisdom of the Scrolls close to your heart.  Come, I have something to show you."

            The old matron turned and walked away toward the large, but simple, altar at the far end of the chamber.  Etyiam followed, but with no enthusiasm.

            When Ampharix got to the altar she reached up and put her hand on one of the several golden globes that adorned the shrine.

            "Very few people have seen what you are about to see, child," said the senator, her voice heavy with portent, "This will prove to you what I say.  Prepare yourself, girl."

            Ampharix tilted the globe slightly and Etyiam heard a click.  A large panel on one side of the altar fell back to reveal a dark passage.  Ampharix gestured inside.

            "After you, child," she said.

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