by Guy Antibes
Bellia spluttered. Now she had further confirmation that the person in the forest was a god. “I guess I have.”
“The god was cursed by his brethren ages ago with limited abilities on our world of Gleanere. He still needs to know what transpires in the world, blind or not,” the Prior said.
Bellia sat speechless. Why did she deserve such special treatment?
“Rest assured he did present you with this coin.” The Prior examined the coin closely and then gave it back to Bellia. “Impressive. This is the first golden token I have ever seen and I’ve been serving the Temple for sixty years.”
“But why me?”
“The Blind God sees you as an agent for change. He can help you with knowledge and self awareness, but even though he may be able to peek ahead a few days or years, you must make it on your own.”
Bellia wondered if her promptings were the work of this god. “Did he plant the idea for me to work for Pock?”
“I don’t know who Pock is and I don’t know your story other than the fact that a pretty young wizardess named Bellia will be with us for awhile. However, when the Blind God is aware of you, it is quite possible that He can plant ideas in your head. But as I said, it isyouwho must act on them. He does not force his will.”
Bellia blushed at being referred to as pretty. No one had called her that before and it took her unawares. She only had a cursory awareness of what she looked like, always wanting to blend in. She needed to respond to the Prior. “He monitored King Rollack and gave him a book.”
“And King Rollack’s body is being carried back to North Wansua as we speak. The South Wansuans are allowing the funeral train safe passage. He had instructions that he ignored at his peril.”
It looked like the joining of North and South Wansua didn’t last long. “The God isn’t infallible, then.” Bellia had always thought that gods could do no wrong, but such a personal god letting a kingdom down? The thought confused her.
“No, but less fallible than you may think. As I said he works through people. People are all prone to weakness and making the wrong choices. I daresay, you’ve made the odd wrong choice in your short life?”
Bellia could only nod, thinking of exposing the secret of Pock’s sword making. The King’s death probably would dry up Pock’s business. “So why am I here?”
“Refuge of course. You may stay here as long as you like, a moment or a decade or a lifetime. It is all up to you. Fill your time up with good works as long as you are here. You may seek out the diversion of going out from time to time with our ranger groups, such as the one who brought you in. You must always remember that the Blind God’s protection only is effective where the land is now green.”
Bellia felt cut adrift yet again. First from the House and her family, and then Pock found her and gave her a home until she had to flee. Now the army, in tatters, caused her to run off again. Perhaps she could reinvent herself yet another time between these walls.
“What can I do?”
“A suggestion from the Prior? Remember I am only a man, and my recommendation is from a simple man and not the Blind God. I would work in the information gathering and manuscript preparation area. You might learn much of what you missed while you were involved in your other pursuits. All information we receive is rewritten and prepared for the monks who read to the Blind God.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t really blind.”
“Neither is he able to instantly know everything that goes on in Gleanere. Even though he can focus on an individual or two from time to time, He can listen to hundreds of conversations simultaneously and learn. He is always learning from the Readers.”
“I haven’t learned anything other than blacksmithing and soldiering in the past five years. Perhaps your suggestion is the right one. Can I change it at any time?”
“Always, Bellia. No one is a prisoner here. Even a Reader can leave at any time, and many do.” The Prior smiled and led Bellia out into Temple.
The mutterings of the Readers overpowered Bellia as they walked to the Reading Room. It really wasn’t a room, but the circular center section of the cavernous Temple. Three hundred Readers, the real monks of the Blind God, read from manuscripts constantly delivered by other servants.
The Prior took Bellia out into the nave. Light flooded the central section of the Temple from multi-paned windows circling the cupola directly above a twenty-foot statue of the Blind God. Bellia looked up at the face.
“The statue is painted marble. It is lifelike isn’t it?” the Prior said after looking at her.
Bellia nodded. It certainly looked enough like the god as he appeared to Bellia in the woods.
~
“We all wear these robes in the service of the Blind God,” explained Ned, the guide assigned to her. He thrust the folded garment into her arms.
Bellia felt the fabric of the red robe. She’d expected rough cloth, but it felt soft and warm to her touch.
“If you wish to learn more about the world, you couldn’t have come to a better place.” Ned smiled. “A year reviewing the world is equivalent to decades of scholarly pursuit.”
“But what is it exactly that I should do?” Bellia knew that information came in and was processed somehow. The readers then read scrolls in the reading room.
“Most of the information that comes in is not suitable for Reading. Our job in Assessment is to separate the gold from the dross.”
“Ah, filtering.” Bellia said.
“Good, you understand. For the first month we will have you sit with one of us and monitor your work. Since you are recently from the world, it will be instructive to your mentor and to you.” He smiled and led Bellia into the Assessment Room. He had a sense of serenity about him, which seemed to clash with his height. He stood taller than Bellia did and she was taller than most men.
Light bathed the Assessment Room from the ubiquitous high windows. Perhaps two hundred people filled the space.
“So many monks.”
Ned colored. “Servants. The only monks we really have are the Readers. For reasons known only to the Blind God, all Readers are men. That is the only recognition of gender on his grounds. All other are his servants, men and women.”
“But what about the monks who brought me here?”
“They wear the Blind God robes if needed in their work, but we call them Rangers. They aren’t really monks, either. We have female Rangers, too.” Ned smiled. It made him look years younger. Bellia noticed the slightly graying wings in his brown hair. Perhaps he’d already seen his fortieth birthday.
Bellia found the concept a bit odd at first, but she knew there was a goddess who only allowed priestesses in her clergy. Admittedly Bellia’s background was severely limited.
“Come with me. We will find a place to work. No one is assigned a specific desk. The work never stops, so when we are done for the day, we leave the desk as it is and another will take our place and so it goes. All day and all night.”
“So everyone has shifts?”
“Nothing so formal. You work as long as you want and then return.”
“But won’t everyone want to work during the day?” Bellia’s talking drew a dirty look from a young woman, scribbling on a scroll.
Ned smiled. “No, I usually prefer the night. There are more empty seats and I find I can get more work done for the Blind God.”
“Uh—”
“Don’t worry Bellia. It is the merest of sacrifices to work with you during the day. Learning to assess is a bit more regimented and only happens between nominal breakfast and dinner. However the refectory is open all of the time.”
Ned showed her to an open desk next to the window. “Grab that extra chair. It’s time you learn so you can earn your keep.” He smiled, indulgently.
~
Bellia learned quickly. She realized a person could scan a page looking for key words and phrases that led to new information. The Blind God received plenty of duplicate intelligence, but all of it was filtered t
hrough Assessment.
“What about the other languages, like what they speak in Eustia? I have some coins from the country of Grianna and I don’t even know how to puzzle through their writing.”
“That is what the learning period is all about. I will tutor you for a month, but after that, you will read in the mornings and continue to learn languages in the afternoon.”
And so it was. Ned’s mentoring only lasted twelve days when he declared Bellia fit for Assessment.
“You are talented at this. Your parents must be proud of such a smart daughter.”
“My parents would be. However they’re dead.” For the first time since she arrived, Bellia’s thoughts turned so far into her past. She felt a pang of loneliness.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said—”
“It’s all right. I was fourteen and now I’m just nineteen. A lot has happened to me since then.” But she didn’t feel all right. The events rushed back to the front of her mind and she felt her eyes beginning to water.
Ned patted her on her shoulder. “Should you need to talk to someone, you may always seek me out.” He laughed. “But you may have to stay up much past your bedtime to do it. Good luck.” He turned around and left Bellia to her work.
She missed Ned’s reassuring presence as she began to work on her own. Bellia’s language work dragged on and on. However, within the confines of the Temple all learning was accelerated. What might take a scholar a year of study, a servant could acquire the same knowledge in a month.
“So many languages,” she said late one night to Ned as they sat in the refectory. Ned ate a full meal, where Bellia nursed a mug of mulled cider.
She gave him a smile. For Bellia, Ned became, in her view, like an older brother.
“How many languages have you managed to stuff into that brain of yours?” he said.
“Kokotan and Terusan. I’m starting on Griannan tomorrow.”
“Most of the Testian languages, save Kokotan, are just variants of each other. When this continent was settled, eons ago, most of the new people came from Pellna on Eustia. The Kokotans are a bit more of a recent group. Their language is similar to the plains people in Eustia. There were two peoples, the current inhabitants who are taller and darker and those who moved to Testia and became the Kokotans. They look quite different.” Ned smiled. “You know too much how Kokotans look.”
“I do,” Bellia said as she took another drink.
“About five hundred years ago, the Kokotans split into two major groups, the Piwati and the Roanokans—”
“So the language of the Kokotans is closer to what the plains people speak?”
Ned covered his eyes with a hand. “Indeed. You might have already learned this. Forgive my pedantry.”
“That’s okay. How many languages are there? Do you know them all?”
“Once there were a great many. But as civilizations rise and fall, words get spread around. I think we’ve got four or five basic written languages on Gleanere and as many more that are just spoken.”
“Terusan is a variant of what most people speak on Testia, but Kokotan was a very different language with its own writing. So I’m not even half done.” Bellia took a sip of her cider and mentally followed its warmth down into her stomach.
“A few more months are nothing. Why would you be in a hurry?”
Bellia thought about her question. “I don’t know. I guess I’m an impatient person.” Bellia thought her impetuousness might come from her army training. Soldiers lived for the day. Perhaps she’d have to learn to relax more.
“Any more questions? It’s time for me to return to work.”
“How many people leave here and go back into the world?”
Ned let out a short laugh. “Over half. Many return to their lands to collect and send us information and writings. The serene atmosphere on the Temple Grounds is not for everyone.”
Bellia thought about Wully, who might have discovered the best of both worlds.
~~~
Chapter Fourteen
Ambush at Barloo
~
“What do you copy today, Bellia?” Punty said. The Ranger visited Bellia every time he came back to the Temple grounds.
“This is a report on the state of Togolath.” Bellia held up a collection of folded short scrolls, bound up like a book with leather thongs tying the pages together. “No real change for some time. The old Council Head has just died and the new one has much the same outlook on life.”
“Why don’t you set this aside for a few weeks and come with us to the borders. It’s been three months since you arrived and you haven’t left the confines of the Temple.”
Bellia wanted to go out, but she worried about the loss of protection. But the thought popped into her head that she needed a break. “I’ll go. I can’t hide here all my life. A foray out into the real world from time to time will do me good. When do we leave?”
“First thing in the morning. Wully and Zeerok will be pleased. It’s just been the three of us since we brought you in.”
“Did the other monk die?”
“No. But after his recuperation, he re-dedicated his life to become a Reader. He’s seen you often enough as he picks up the manuscripts. When he’s not reading he’s down burrowing through the Archives. It helps with his restlessness.”
“Archives? I’ve been so buried in the Assessment room, I didn’t know there were archives of any sort.” Bellia said.
“The Archives extend deep down underneath the Temple. Thousands of years of documents are sitting around down there. The largest library, by far, in the world is underneath your feet.”
The next morning Bellia dressed in new clothes. New might have been a misnomer, she thought. Clean would work better. She buckled up her swords, but left her money in a box in her room. The Temple gave them all packs with food, supplies and money.
Wully read the instructions. “It’s off to Pottoa, that’s on the east side of Tuathua, Bellia.”
She knew, but she didn’t want Wully to feel stupid on the first day of their trek. “Where is the capital city of Tuathua?”
“South of here where the Turbow River enters the sea. If you remember, we told you there’s not too much policing. The capital is at the very south end of the kingdom.”
“Do we have a mission to find a lost youth?” Bellia grinned.
“Nothing unique. We often run into pilgrims wishing to worship the Blind God or ex-servants carrying information. Generally we end up escorting folks to the Temple on our return trip. That’s what we’re doing this time. An important servant awaits us in Barloo.”
“I know all about information, now.” Bellia smiled as the four Rangers left the Temple, walking around it, and proceeded along a road leading east towards the crispness and promise of a new spring.
“Wully,” Bellia walked next to the healer. “Why are you here serving the Blind God?”
“I lived in Banta, east of Togolath. People angry about my magic and my religion attacked my wife and I. She died and I sort of went out of my mind for awhile. Grief and guilt, you know.”
“I do.” Bellia still felt a bit of grief and guilt about being the only survivor of her family. As they left the Temple behind, she thought about her quest to return to Grianna.
“Yes.” Wully gathered his thoughts and continued. “I have a sister who really wanted me to stay, but I came across a servant who suggested I spend some time down here. I wasn’t too far gone to recognize earnest advice, so I did.”
“Why a Ranger?”
“I’m not one for spending all day reading and writing. I’ve a talent for healing and, I must admit, like the action of being outside. It’s more stimulating. So here I am. Healers are common among Ranger groups. There’s not much healing at the Temple, so you have to go outside to practice your talent.”
“What about other kinds of wizards?”
“Wizarding can go to your head. There’s a lot of power a wizard can wield. If you look in the Archi
ves, you will find descriptions of wizard wars fought. Terrible things. It’s a unique wizard who can serve a King and not take too much power.”
“Is that why the Blind God didn’t want King Rollack to ally with a wizard?”
“Ordering anybody to do or not do anything doesn’t sound like the Blind God. If there were a book King Rollack followed, it would be a collection of suggestions. Doesn’t matter much now, does it?”
Bellia mulled over Wully’s words. “So how does the Blind God think men should rule?”
“That’s easy, he doesn’t. He wants men to act the way they wish as long as no harm befalls others. He tries to influence rules and the force of law to do that. Right now, it appears his influence isn’t working too well, but then if it did, I guess the Blind God would be out of a job.”
Out of a job. Bellia wondered how a god could possibly be out of a job or obsolete? She realized that it was a concept she wasn’t prepared to contemplate seriously. Perhaps he just didn’t have sufficient power to do more than make good suggestions.
Before night fell, the Rangers stopped.
“Figured your sword work would be rusty, so we can stop an hour earlier and you can get some practice in,” Punty said.
Bellia took her swords into the copse and cut down some hardwood sticks to use for sparring.
“Maybe we can use these to start. I’m not sure I won’t cut one of you up. My swords are very sharp.” Bellia laughed as she let the sticks roll off her arms and bounce on the turf of the little meadow of their camp.
Punty beat on Bellia mercilessly at the beginning of the session. Bellia had to strip to a single shirt. It had been some time since she last held a weapon and three months in the Temple had cost her a great deal of muscle tone.
When it became Wully’s turn to spar, Bellia felt her old reflexes return and her defense quickened. She painfully found her muscles were not up to sparring with Zeerok with anything close to her old skill.
“That’s enough.” Bellia threw his sticks to the ground. “My body will be sore enough tomorrow.” It felt good to work up a good sweat and feel the pain of exertion again. She also found she missed the easy camaraderie of fellow soldiers. These three men gave her respect and treated her as one of them. Their acceptance warmed her heart and it felt more natural than the endless duty in the temple.