Chapter 2
Immediately inside the gate, a main road broke off to the left and, hugging the town’s wall, descended a steep slope. The first buildings on the street to the temple were warehouses and storehouses. Wagons bringing goods into the city did not have to travel far for their initial unloading. Small stands where merchants hawked their goods stood along the front of the buildings, narrowing the avenue. Most were empty, suggesting that the merchants’ caravan was away.
Just past the market, the slope to the lower half of K’non came up against the left edge of the road, allowing Minna to view the city. There were few buildings below; most of the land within the city’s wall was crop land, which the citizens could harvest even during a siege. Those citizens lived in the heights, where the slope provided a second line of defense from attackers managing to breech the lower wall.
The meandered away, again leaving room for buildings on the left side of the road. These were among the most luxurious buildings in town. No doubt, the three story wooden structure with genuine glass windows that they passed on their left was the home of some member of K’non’s aristocracy, perhaps even Sir Terrion himself. Nothing other than the Temple competed with it for splendor.
The road continued over a dam; the cobblestones that paved the road continued to the right and disappeared under the water’s surface. A glance at the banks of the reservoir suggested that the whole lake bottom was paved. Logs, cut upstream, gathered in the lake and waited their turn to be manhandled onto a slide that carried them down the steep slope to the buildings below.
The drop on their left was nearly vertical, but water no longer fell over the edge in a white, uncontrolled frenzy. Instead, channels and a system of gates regulated its fall. The aqueduct split and split again as it descended the slope, branching into a score of possible routes. Each route ended above a water wheel, the shafts of which extended into the buildings that also collected the logs. Even above the roar of water and through the distance that separated them, Minna heard the hammers and saws in the buildings.
Sif’s Temple sat on the far bank of the reservoir.
“Fint, you stay here with the animals,” Minna ordered as she dismounted. Any creature not fully human was forbidden from touching any part of the temple. Boys aspiring to become Temple Guardsmen demonstrated their devotion as well as their skill with sling and sword by killing the birds that attempted to roost there. The incantations which sanctified the temple also kept away insects and other creatures too small and numerous to kill.
A part of the steps was roped off, marking, Minna guessed, where Zin had assaulted the Lady. Handing the reins of her horse over to Fint she climbed up to the site. A small mound of dirt marked where ants were starting a new home.
Minna waited for Jeffers to pull the saddlebags holding his technology from his horse and climb up to her, then she said softly, “Here’s evidence for you, Jeffers. Evil was done here, and by a person who believes much as you do.”
“Great evils have been done by those who share my belief that leaves are green,” he answered. “It does not imply that my belief is false.”
“There’s a difference, in this case the beliefs are directly related to the evil.”
“When have I said that equality between males and females implies acceptance of men pushing women around on temple steps? Besides, this does not prove that evil was done here, only that Sif disapproved. It is possible for Sif to show evidence of disapproving of something that is not evil.”
Minna knew that the words should have shocked her; she should be calling to the Guards to report his heresy. However, she had heard too many of his heresies. “You are a prophet in service to Sif. Her disapproval should be all the proof you need.”
He stared at her for a long moment, though his thoughts carried him far away. When his eyes regained focus he said, “Sif and I have an arrangement. As for her disapproval, I will agree with her when she is right, and disagree with her when she is wrong, so far as I am able to determine.”
This time, his words did shock her. “She grants you her powers. How can you speak about her this way?”
“I speak what I think is true. Obviously, this does not offend Sif, as it should not. I do not draw these ideas out of nothing; I have my reasons.”
Minna shook her head. Wordlessly, she climbed beyond the desecrated region to the temple itself. As tradition required, Cadlius and Jeffers followed precisely three steps behind.
Each step she climbed forced Minna’s thoughts to the Rule of Ascension represented by that step. According to the Church doctrine, these fifty rules, when a person made them a part of their life, allowed that person to rise from the lowly and corrupted life signified by the raw, infested ground below the last step into somebody worthy of being in Sif’s divine presence. Parents taught children the significance of each step from the moment they could climb.
At the top, Minna paused to look at the artwork that marked the temple. The large cubical building, five times a man’s height and fifty paces to a side, looked as if it had been carved out of a single block of stone. Magic erased all seams in the stone, and bas-relief carvings decorated all sides. Architects and artists struggled to be recognized as offering the best telling of Sif’s legends.
Stepping through the doorway, Minna entered nearly total darkness; the only light came through the doorway and a window in the center of the roof, from which a rectangular beam crashed brightly against the east wall. A moment later, she could see the floor-to-ceiling statue of Sif on the far wall. Dark red flames rising from her outstretched hands illuminated her.
Both Minna and Cadlius knelt before the idol, while Jeffers stepped in front of them to give the blessing. He gave one of the more elaborate rituals; expressing gratitude for being once again safe in a city.
Though Minna’s vision still suffered from the plunge into darkness, she saw the Attendee of the Divine approach while Jeffers finished his blessing. The Attendee seemed nearly to float, her white robes barely brushing the stone floor and displaying only the faintest hint that something as mundane as legs propelled her. The whiteness of her robes, seen within the darkness of the worship room, appeared to glow with its own divinely radiant light.
Stopping with a bow, the Attendee opened her arms wide and said, “I see that there are strangers here. Honor me as the first to formally greet you in the name of the citizens of K’non. Tell me, how I may be of service to you.”
Cadlius and Jeffers each took a step back; Cadlius, because tradition and etiquette demanded it; and Jeffers, because his fear of stumbling over social customs had made him shy.
“I must speak to the Matron Deonta,” Minna said, handing over her introduction scroll.
There was no change in the Attendee’s smile as she read through the scroll. When she finished she asked, “Must you see the Matron? Perhaps I can be of service. Please, tell me what you need and I will do what I can. I am here to serve.”
“I have come in pursuit of Zin Kussad, and I want him released to my custody so that I may return with him to the Earl’s Dungeons.”
The Attendee’s smile finally faltered. “I see your problem. Well, if the Matron is not the one to be concerned with such a question, she should at least be able to direct us to who is. Please, come with me. Oh, your men, of course, are not allowed into the heart of the temple. You understand that, of course.”
“Of course,” said Minna. The Attendee lead the Varlet to a doorway lost in the shadows behind the statue. Left behind, Cadlius knelt before the idol and began a longer, more formal prayer. Jeffers took a thick, heavily bound book and a quill from his saddlebag and sat where the light leaking in through the door illuminated his pages and began to write.
In the darkness beyond the doorway, Minna noticed that the glow that surrounded the Attendee did not leave. Instead, it continued to hold the darkness always a pace away as she turned down a flight of steps that steeply dropped into the heart of the pyramid. The sourceless, shadowless light continued until they reached the bottom of the stairs, where lanterns hanging from chains lit their path. The attendee continued without a break in her silence or in her stride, and Minna followed.
The frescoes that marked the walls and ceiling had been painted in bright colors and showed open terrain and bright clear skies. They were meant to conceal the dark confines of the underground hallway, but the illusion succeeded only marginally. The lights were far too dim and widely scattered to give the art its full effect.
Whenever they met somebody in the hallway, the Attendee would say softly, “Make way for Varlet Minna of Earl Chie Noreon’s Court.” Whoever they met would step aside and kneel, eyes cast down on the floor, though Minna knew without looking that they raised their head to watch her after she passed. Church Guardsmen, immune from kneeling, stiffened at their posts and watched with a Guardsman’s perpetual suspicion as the pair walked past.
They descended another flight of stairs and walked down another hallway that ended in large, ornately carved wooden doors. The Assistant pushed the door open effortlessly and entered, with Minna a pace behind.
The room beyond was illuminated, not by burning oil, but by a glowing sphere held high in the hands of a finely crafted marble likeness of Sif. The walls of the room formed a circle around the statue, and were filled with frescoes even more elaborate than those that decorated the Temple’s outer walls. Another pair of doors, matching those they had entered through, sat in the opposite wall.
“Excuse me, Varlet, but I will need to speak to the Matron in private and announce your arrival.”
Minna nodded her acceptance of this formality, and the attendee left through the second set of doors. While the doors were open, Minna tried for a glimpse into the Matron’s chamber and, perhaps, at the Matron herself. Still another set of doors, a few feet past those the Attendee left through, frustrated her efforts.
Left alone, Minna had nothing to do but study the frescoes. The art pulled the observer’s attention around the room to place that depicted Sif bestowing her gift of moral sense on a gathering of women. Nearby, elves playing in a forest either failed to notice Sif’s offer or refused to have their carefree spirits burdened by such knowledge. Dwarves, though granted the virtues of diligence, looked on humans with envy and hid their physical and mental deformities in the darkness of their mines. Jealousy and self-interest drove the lower races—orcs, trolls, goblins, lycanthropes, vampires, and their kin—to try to exterminate all humans or at least to destroy all things which this moral sense identified as good. Human males fought to keep the lower races at bay, defending their women folk but, as a result, being unable to receive Sif’s gift themselves. Some men joined with the darker races; while others bound their corrupted souls and their lives to protecting those things that women, with their gift, could identify as having value.
The story was one which, until very recently, Minna would have looked upon in full confidence of its truth. She had found evidence for it in her work in the Earl’s Dungeons, where her prisoners were almost all male or members of those races denied Sif’s gift and, thereby, condemned to natures which could only be described with words like “sick,” “depraved,” “perverse,” and “evil.”
Yet, that same duty had put her in contact with men who would make deep cuts in what she thought was sound support for her beliefs. One was Thane Sli Tiempko, Warden of the Earl’s dungeons until he left to fight in what would later come to be known as Thane Tiempko’s War. His favorite hobby seemed to be asking questions that Minna found difficult to answer.
Recently, Jeffers had eagerly taken up the Thane’s activities. While tracking Zin, she did not have much to do but discuss theology with the Sifian prophet. Fint had told them more than once that anything within a day’s march would have no trouble following their discussions. The memory brought Minna a smile.
Sounds from the door the Attendee had gone through announced that somebody was coming through. The door opened, and the Attendee waived for Minna to come through. When the Attendee closed the ante-chamber door and shut out the statue’s light, her own glow grew to repel the darkness.
“You may want to shield your eyes,” the Attendee said as she reached for the door to the Matron’s chambers. Minna saw no sense to the suggestion until the door opened and brightness brought pain to her eyes that forced her to look down and away. As the Attendee entered the chamber, Minna followed with her head bowed and eyes shielded.
Looking up as far as the brightness would allow her, Minna saw the lower half of K’non through a window that took up nearly the entire far wall. She remembered seeing no windows on the temple’s eastern wall and thought, for a moment, that this was a painting. However, no artist’s pigment could generate a brightness that hurt the eyes. The slowly rising swirls of smoke from a few of the houses, the branches waiving in the breeze, and the slow plodding of oxen in the fields and along the roads told Minna that this was no painting.
“Varlet Minna, we of K’non are most honored to have you visit our town,” said a voice. To Minna, the Matron of the Temple was a black, featureless silhouette against the left side of the window. At the Matron’s signal, the Attendee bowed out of the room, closing the doors as she left. At the same time, the Matron uttered a syllable that dimmed the light coming through the window. Blinking away the spots before her eyes, Minna saw the grain and texture of stone on the image.
“A gift for the Temple from Spek, one of the magicians that live in K’non.” Deonta explained.
It took a powerful magician to produce something like this.
“Varlet Minna, I beg your indulgence and I mean no disrespect to your station, but there are things I need to know,” Deonta said abruptly. “Hunting down an escaped prisoner is hardly a duty for someone of your rank. It is something that those who accompanied you could and, normally, would do without your direct supervision. I cannot help but conclude that either you have some other reason for being here or there is something not ordinary — extraordinary, perhaps — about Zin Kussad.”
Reflex brought Minna’s right hand up to her side, and through the cloth she fingered a scar that was her real reason for wanting to be away from the Earl’s Dungeons. The answer she gave the Matron steered away from those elements, but was true enough. “At about the same time Zin escaped from my ward I felt a need for some time away from my duties. Working in the dungeons is not easy. The Earl and I agreed that helping track down Zin would give me a break from my normal duties while still allowing me to serve her.”
“He escaped from your ward?” the Matron asked. Wide-eyed surprise transformed slowly into a smile. “Then you know this Zin Kussad pretty well.”
It was not the follow-up question Minna expected; she hesitated. “Somewhat, yes. He wasn’t there long before he escaped, but I had started to learn about him. Why?”
“Zin got himself into a bit of trouble yesterday.”
“I have heard.”
“Good.” Deonta paused, turning to look at the city. “To the best of your knowledge, Zin suffers from no deep mental defect, does he? I mean, though his claim that males can run affairs of state and home as well as females is absurd, it is not an absurdity he accepts in the grips of madness, is it? And no disease so infects his mind that he is always going about striking down Ladies of Sif, does it?”
Shaking her head slowly, Minna answered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Good,” Deonta said, her profile showing the hint of a smile. “And, of course, in the dungeons you tested him for signs that he had been charmed or possessed.”
“Zin’s crimes were not serious enough to warrant using magic to test his mind, but we had no evidence to suggest that the beliefs and desires behind his action were not his own. Now, Matron Deonta, with all due respect, I can answer no more questions until you tell me why you are interested in these things.”
“The answer should be obvious, Varlet.” Deonta said. “I have not talked with the Advocacy about this case yet, but they have little choice in how they will defend Zin. They cannot argue that Zin did not perform the act; over a hundred witnesses can testify that he did. They can not argue that he performed the act for good reason, to prevent the Lady from being struck by an assassin’s arrow, perhaps. Not the slightest evidence exists for such a claim.”
She spoke softly, more like she revealing this current of thoughts for herself than for the Varlet. “Their only chance is to argue that though the act was done, it was not Zin’s act. I’m certain they are going to try to argue that madness, or charm, or possession caused the act. Regrettably, his striking the Lady before so many witnesses argues in favor of some type of diminished reasoning.”
She turned towards Minna. “You have just said that in Malikii you judged that his actions were his own. When the council hears your evidence, they cannot side with the Advocacy. They must convict him.”
“And if I provide you with this evidence, then you will execute him.”
“That is what Justice demands; He will accept nothing less.” the Matron said, pronouncing each word clearly and with force.
“Justice,” Minn repeated, struggling to keep her features neutral.
“I know you have heard of Him. I would be most surprised if your ward did not contain at least a few people devoted to Justice’s worship, imprisoned until they can be cleansed of what those in Malikii consider a lust for revenge.”
“There were some.”
The Varlet let half her mind quickly run through what she knew about Justice and his servants, hoping to find something useful there. The doctrine held that Justice was one of two brothers that advised Sif directly. He was a cold, harsh, impersonal, and unemotional archangel who convinced Sif to bestow goodness on what his worshipers called ‘acts of retribution.’ Sif wove this goodness into the fabric of such acts, and wrote onto the human soul the capacity to perceive this goodness directly - a ‘sense’ of Justice’s will. Simply the contemplation of retribution was enough for any person possessing the Gift of Moral Sight to see the rightness of it. By contrast, Justice’s brother Will was said to be kind and loving. His distress at seeing people suffer, both through the evil that they did and in answering to Justice for that evil, caused him to plead for Sif to create a power whereby people can avoid evil acts. Sif answered by creating a force she named in Will’s honor. Known as Will’s Power, those who drew upon it had the ability to alter causal chains and bring about effects other than those that would have resulted if nature continued its original course.
Minna kept the other half of her mind on the Matron’s words. Deonta said, “However, Varlet Minna, this is not Malikii. We honor Justice and devote our lives to fulfilling His wishes. We believe that no law shall be made except that which is dedicated to His service, and that anybody who violates His law be brought to face Him and His judgment. In Zin’s case, nothing stands so blatantly contrary to reason than preserving the life of somebody who denies all that gives life meaning. And so, in Justice’s name, if Zin’s actions on the steps were his own, then Zin must die.”
“Correct me if I assume too much, Matron Deonta, but is it wrong to say that Zin could have avoided Justice’s wrath if he would have called upon Will’s power to control his temper.”
“As I thought, you are familiar with our teachings,” Deonta answered. “In a sense, Zin volunteered for execution when he choose his action. His death is not on our hands, but his own.”
“If I understand you correctly, you want me to prove to the council that Zin could have called upon Will’s Power and prevented the action. However, not only did he fail to do so, he used Will’s Power for evil, to bring about the crime for which he is to be executed.”
The Matron stood a little taller and turned to face Varlet Minna directly. “Will’s Power does not cease to exist simply because the people of Malikii have ceased to believe in it. Nor do people cease using the power by denying it, no more than they can fly by denying gravity.”
“You want me to help you kill Zin.”
Minna saw it in the Matron’s face, a flash of surprise, followed by disappointment and, perhaps, frustration. She had seen the same reaction in almost every person sent to the dungeons. Almost all came to her convinced that they did nothing wrong, and were both mildly surprised and greatly disappointed when Minna expressed her contrary opinions.
The Matron recovered quickly. “I want you to tell the truth about Zin to the Council. Let the Council determine Zin’s fate.”
Slowly shaking her head, trying to disbelieve what she was hearing, Minna answered, “I refuse. Keep your rituals to yourself. I do not care to help you decide who qualifies as an appropriate human sacrifice to this bloodthirsty godling you call Justice and who does not.”
With a sad sigh, the Matron said, “I should have expected that you would choose not to help us. But, I’m afraid, you have no choice. You are in K’non now, and as such you are under K’non’s laws. Those laws give to the Council the power to compel those having important information to give testimony. Justice demands it.”
A worry, which had been laying in her mind from the moment they came through the city gates, suddenly erupted. “I am Varlet Minna, and I am here in service to the Earl of Malikii.”
“The Earl has made some rather strange decisions in her time, but I doubt she has the power to change the Noble Order. A Matron of the Temple still outranks a Varlet.”
“But even a Matron must obey the Earl. To interfere with my mission is to go against her wishes.”
“Yes,” the Matron said with a nod. “We must both obey the Earl, and our beloved Earl does not believe in Justice and Will either, may Sif have mercy on her. Fortunately, those who negotiated Sir Terrion’s charter saw the need to protect us from the Earl’s skepticism. The Earl promised in her charter to not interfere with those practices and institutions established by the Council of K’non which, to the best of our belief, Justice demands and a firm conviction in Will’s Power allows.”
The phrase sounded too formal to be anything other than a quote from the charter itself. “And, no doubt, if your Council determines that Justice demands the Earl’s replacement with somebody more willing to enforce His will, that clause will bind the Earl to surrender to you.”
“Of course not,” Deonta said with a puzzled frown. “We can no more interfere with the Earl’s rule than she can interfere with ours.”
“Then you may not force me to give testimony,” Minna said.
“I believe I can.”
“No!” Minna was fighting to control a fury which had pulled her hands into fists. “The Earl’s policy states that if, for example, one venturing into the wilderness were to come upon a primitive tribe preparing to sacrifice a young virgin to a lustful monster, we should not interfere. But neither shall we participate. I will not interfere with your plan to offer Zin as a human sacrifice to this monster you call Justice. But, in accordance with the Earl’s instructions, I will not participate.”
“And that is how you see us, as a primitive tribe?” Deonta asked. It was a statement more than a question. The Matron’s smile only added to Minna’s anger.
“Yes. These twins Justice and Will are as much myth as the primitive’s volcano god; and the sacrifices that you force on people in the name of these godlings are just as barbaric.”
Minna’s directness robbed Deonta of her smile. “Regardless, Varlet Minna, you will remain in K’non as the Council’s guest until called to testify. If, at that time, you summon Will’s Power to support a choice not to testify, then in Justice’s name you will suffer a punishment that fits your crime. You may make it your career to thwart Justice in Malikii, but I will not let you thwart Him here.”
As she spoke, Deonta picked up a small bell from her desk. The vastness of her stone-walled chambers swallowed its tiny sound, yet the main door immediately opened and four Temple Guardsmen entered; two stepped to each side of the doorway. Each held a rod of oak with its end carved and molded to hold a red stone about the size of a human heart. A fully powered swing from such a club could kill, and the Guardsmen held them ready to use.
As those four grew still, a fifth with guard, with twice Minna’s mass and armored in plate mail overlapping chain emerged.
Minna shouted, “In the name of the Earl of Malikii, I protest . . .”, but the Matron ignored her. Deonta stepped up to the Guards lieutenant and said, “Trib, at this point Varlet Minna is a guest of the Council. She is to be treated as such. However, she has important information that she must bring when the Council hears the case of Zin Kussad. She has shown reluctance. Make sure she does not shirk her duty to Justice.”
Lieutenant Trib looked Minna over slowly as he answered, “I understand.”
“I am a Varlet in service to the Earl Chie Noreon.”
“Varlet Minna, however unsound you judge my mind to be for believing what I do, you do not need to remind me of your title or the reason you are here every two minutes.”
“You can’t do this to me.”
“It’s just like somebody from Malikii to deny what is plainly before her eyes.”
Minna clamped her mouth shut.
“I will grant you as much freedom as I can,” the Matron continued. “I pray that you enjoy your time in our city. Walk around. Meet the people. You’ll find loving parents and hard-working citizens trying their best to make a better life for themselves and their neighbors. We are far from primitive.”
“What about my companions?” Minna asked. “They know nothing about Zin except what I have told them.”
“They will be questioned, and if I determine that they have no knowledge useful to the Council then they will be free to leave. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters I must attend to. We will have opportunities to talk further.”
As Deonta turned back to her window, Minna took her first cautious step to the door. The Lieutenant stepped aside. Before Minna reached the door, two of the Guardsmen turned to lead the way. The others formed ranks behind her. It was the same formation the Earl herself used in escorting her more dangerous prisoners; she had to trust that the guards in front of her were leading her to the surface.