The Temple of the Sun

by Moyra Caldecott

  ‘No way,’ Guiron answered gloomily. ‘Nya thinks he comes to reclaim his brother’s land. The other Spear-lords fight because they think they are being threatened by a change that is to their disadvantage, but none of these made a move until Panora drove them to it. They are her warriors, her minions, whether they know it or not.’

  ‘What does she hope to gain? Killing Karne and his family will not satisfy her vengeful nature.’

  ‘Karne must go because he was the enemy of Wardyke. I must go because of what I did to her mother. But with us must go all that we stand for, the good and gentle changes Karne has made in village life, the Temple and its mighty power.

  ‘I have “travelled” to her camp and looked into her eyes, and seen there the destruction of this whole culture, the Temple laid to waste and in its place a palace of great magnificence in which the King Isar and his Queen Deva rule – their Warder and their Guardian, the Princess Panora.

  ‘The Princess Panora grown in power beyond all belief.

  ‘The Princess Panora ruling her king and queen of Straw, and her kingdom of devastation!’

  Khu-ren and Kyra were silent, the realization that what he said was true bringing a chill to their hearts.

  ‘What can we do?’ Kyra spoke at last, her voice trembling.

  Guiron’s shoulders were hunched. He was tired and he had lost all will and hope.

  ‘She is no ordinary girl and she has been learning from the Temple all these years,’ Khu-ren said. ‘She has been feeding on us, biding her time, and now she is more deadly than a viper between the breasts of a girl.’

  Kyra shuddered.

  It was no satisfaction to her now that she had never liked or trusted Panora.

  ‘I think,’ the Lord Khu-ren said, ‘we should go into the Silence and seek the answer there.’

  The Lord Guiron suffered himself to be led to the Temple and thence to the northern inner circle of great power.

  There the three who were Lords of the Sun stood until dawn, deep in the Silence within themselves, seeking guidance from the spirit realms around them and within them.

  * * * *

  It took Panora more than a moon cycle to gather the army she thought sufficient for her purposes and move it within striking distance of the Temple. She moved among the gathering armies, her strange hypnotic power strengthening their purpose and confidence whenever it showed signs of wavering, feeding their fears, their hates, their greed.

  She was everywhere and nowhere. No one could find her, but she could find everyone. If a group of Spear-lords began to have their doubts when they realised it was against the Temple itself they were making their advance, and not just against the upstart Karne, and held a secret meeting, Panora was suddenly and mysteriously in their midst making them see that it was the Temple and the Lord High Priest who were their enemy after all.

  ‘Karne may be killed by one spear thrust, but if the Temple is determined to break the power of the Spear-lords, a hundred Karne’s will spring to life whenever one is killed!

  ‘You must destroy the Lord High Priest and the Temple at his back if you are to keep your way of life.

  ‘You see that. You are not blind. You are men of action and of power. Use it! No priest living in his dream world can stand against you.

  ‘Take the Temple! Make it yours! Install your people in it who will look out for your rights!’

  She stood amongst them strangely grown in height, a spear raised in hand, eyes like demon eyes inflaming them to action.

  On the day when she thought the time was near to strike she vanished inexplicably from their midst and reappeared in the garden of Fern’s house, where Deva was playing happily unaware of all the threats of violence and of war.

  The child looked up to see a strange girl standing beside her. Before she could utter a sound, Panora had seized her and whisked her away.

  Isar, coming at that moment out of the house, saw it happen and ran like a deer in the direction they had vanished. They had moved so fast that by the time he could see clearly the track he thought they had taken, it was already empty.

  Distraught with fear for Deva’s safety he rushed to the field where Karne kept his horse and, forgetting that his father would need it, he leapt upon its back and galloped off in the direction in which he was sure Panora had gone.

  Panora meanwhile made sure that she kept just out of reach of him but left enough evidence of her passing for him to follow easily. It was part of her plan that he would be with Deva away from the battle and out of reach of any of their family or friends.

  It was nightfall when Isar finally tracked Deva down. She was sitting in the doorway of a derelict house far from any other habitation and crying for her mother.

  When she saw Isar she flung herself into his arms and clung to him sobbing with relief and joy. Gently he soothed and comforted her and then, when at last she was quiet and he looked around for the horse, it was nowhere in sight.

  He asked Deva about Panora but the little girl just shook her head and looked so full of fear he left the matter alone. There was no sign of her. It was clear she meant Deva to stay there, far, far from possible help.

  As darkness was fast closing in upon them he decided the most sensible thing would be for them to stay in the half-ruined house overnight and try to find their way home in the morning.

  He told Deva this and spoke with such calm authority that she, who loved and trusted him, was quite content and began to look on the whole thing as an adventurous game. But she was very careful never to leave his side and, weary as she was, she followed him everywhere as he gathered straw and built a soft bed for them in the most sheltered part of the almost roofless house.

  When she complained that she was hungry, he promised her he would find her food in the morning, but meanwhile she must sleep and he would tell her a story to lull her off to dream land. She settled down happily in his arms and he told her story after story until at last he felt her go limp and her breathing settle soft and rhythmic.

  But he could not sleep himself. He lay cramped and troubled all the night with thinking upon the matters that had occurred, the war that was brewing and the part his one-time friend Panora was playing in it.

  Many thoughts came to him in that long, long night, and many decisions were made.

  * * * *

  Meanwhile Panora had returned to her army and, finding her commander-in-chief, Nya, lying in a state of drunken stupor, gave the command to advance herself, in his voice. The moon rose full and brilliant above the plain and the hastily constructed defences of Karne and his Spear-lords showed up clearly.

  The priests had sent word that this would be the night of the battle and Karne, lying in a ditch waiting with his men, could feel it in the air. If the sky had not been so clear he would have been sure there would be a storm, so hot and breathless and oppressive it was.

  He was momentarily surprised and anxious that Isar had not brought his horse to him in answer to the message he had sent, but as everything was in such tension and confusion, he dismissed the worry by telling himself Isar could probably not find him. He had indeed moved his position several times.

  The priests had sent word that no one was to attack, only hold themselves ready to defend. They had hinted before that there were other ways of defeating enemies than by force of arms, and weapons were to be used only as a last resort.

  Karne and his friends, remembering the legendary powers of the priests of the Temple of the Sun, were thankful that they at least were on their side.

  There was something non-human and supernatural about Panora, but the rest of their enemies were ordinary men like themselves, and this was a relief.

  * * * *

  The enemy had no such comfort.

  Now that the moment of confrontation had come not a few of them had misgivings about raising arms against the mighty Temple priesthood.

  Panora seemed to be everywhere at once and it was her energy that flowed through them like strong ale.


  As the moon reached a height sufficient to flood the whole battle plain with eerie light, Panora gave a shriek that made every one of her enemies’ blood run cold.

  It was the sound of Vengeance, and with it the whole dark plain seemed to come alive, bushes and stones moved, the very earth itself heaved to spew out a dark horde of fighting men.

  As they advanced they chanted a savage and relentless chant that added to the chill already in the hearts of the defenders.

  Karne’s people knew they were vastly outnumbered, and as they lay in the ditches and behind the hastily erected banks it seemed to them their case was hopeless.

  But even as the first line of attackers came within spear throw a wondrous thing happened.

  Upon three burial mounds, and clearly visible in the moonlight, three figures suddenly appeared, luminous and larger than life. The Lord Guiron in the centre, flanked by the Lord Khu-ren and the Lady Kyra.

  The advancing army paused, its derisive and impressive chant cut off in mid breath. More than a thousand men stared at the three upon the burial mounds, and as the centre one raised his arm and pointed they raised their eyes to follow it.

  Above them the moon that had signalled their attack and had been showering its light upon their enemy now seemed to have a weird shadow of blood creeping across its face.

  They stared horrified, as gradually the shadow spread, the light dimmed, and the ghost of the moon, each detail of its pock-marked face clearer than it had ever been, looked down upon them in a sombre and ominous silence.

  Even Panora was momentarily stunned, and in that moment Guiron spoke with a voice of thunder that carried across the plain with more than human strength.

  ‘You have dared to challenge the authority of the Temple of the Sun.

  ‘You will advance no further.

  ‘Between you and the innocent people you wish to destroy is a wall of power. If you touch it you will be destroyed. If you go back to your homes and live as you have always lived in peace and harmony with your neighbours, no harm will come to you.’

  ‘Do not listen to him!’ screamed Panora. ‘He is no more than a priest frightened of losing power.

  ‘We are the power now!

  ‘We take!

  ‘We break!

  ‘We make a new world that will be ours!

  ‘Advance!’

  Her voice, like Guiron’s, carried with an unnatural force across the echoing plain. Her power of personality, like Guiron’s, was more than natural at this moment.

  Half of her dark force moved forward under the strength of it, the other half hesitated and stayed where it was, confused and dismayed. But in the section that moved forward there were more men than the defenders had at their command.

  As they advanced the two figures standing on the burial mounds to the north and south of Guiron raised their right hands and pointed dramatically. Between their pointing fingers a lightning bolt seemed to shoot across the plain.

  Again the advancing army paused.

  Again Panora drove them on.

  ‘Beware of the wall of power!’ Guiron roared. ‘No man may pass unscathed!’

  ‘It is a trick!’ Panora screamed. ‘You can see there is no wall!’

  The moon had come clear of its ghastly shadow now and the light shone full upon the plain.

  There was no wall visible.

  The horde advanced again.

  ‘Now!’ shouted the three great Lords of the Sun with one voice, and in that instant total confusion broke loose upon the plain.

  Some screamed as though they had been burned as they touched an invisible wall of fire. Others shrieked with fear as the sky rained vipers and poisonous adders. Yet others leaped back from demon figures burning with unearthly light. Some saw long dead relatives raise spears against them. Others were engulfed in a black and suffocating fog. Leaping flames chased others back.

  In the days to come each one who survived this terrible ordeal had a different tale to tell.

  No one saw the same enemy.

  No one penetrated the invisible wall.

  * * * *

  ‘Advance! Advance!’ shrieked Panora, mad with disappointment at the frustration of her plans.

  ‘There is no wall. It is a trick!’

  But her voice was lost in the shrieking of the damned and the stampeding of terrified men.

  The battle that was no battle was a rout.

  The defenders, still untouched behind the lines of their defence, gazed with horror and with awe at what they saw.

  They saw nothing of wall, or fire, or fog or vipers ... nothing but men screaming in fear and agony and falling about in the dark and running back from whence they had come.

  They stared amazed.

  And when they turned to look upon the three burial mounds there was no sign of the three Lords of the Sun.

  And when they looked at the moon it was as bland and pale as ever.

  Weeping with rage Panora watched the scene and knew that she had lost.

  Never again while they remembered this night would any man rise against the power of the Temple.

  But even as she despaired she remembered she had one last trick to play.

  She had the children. Deva, the beloved of Kyra, Khu-ren and Guiron, and Isar, the beloved of Karne and Fern.

  Swiftly she left the shameful scene of her defeat and travelled to the derelict house where she had left her captives.

  She would triumph yet!

  * * * *

  But even this victory she was to be denied.

  Dawn light was breaking as she came upon the place, and the children had left.

  Above the house a wheeling flight of enormous black birds were screeching in the sky.

  Panora shook her fist at them.

  ‘Why did you let them go?’ she screamed.

  The birds wheeled once more and flew off across the horizon. Even her familiars had deserted her.

  Bitterly, but still determined to salvage triumph from the wreckage, she set off in search of the children. She knew the horse had left them and they would not be able to go far on Deva’s little legs.

  But what she did not know was that Kyra’s love had located them and even at that moment the Lord Guiron and herself, now in their bodily form, were hastening to the place where they knew the children would be.

  Weary and bedraggled from journeying and hiding, Panora was in time to see their reunion in a little forest glade.

  Kyra gathered both children to her breast, tears of relief falling upon them. She had played her part as great Lord of the Sun as it had been required of her, but now she was woman and mother, desperate with weariness and weak with relief after the long anxiety.

  The High Priest stood aside and watched them, his face filled with remorse and love.

  When Kyra had welcomed them enough and they turned to him, he stepped forward and knelt upon the grass, taking Deva’s little hand in his and bending his large head to kiss her fingers.

  Isar watched him warily

  ‘My lady,’ the Lord Guiron said with great humility. ‘I ask your forgiveness for all that I have done.’

  Deva, dark and beautiful, with the light that she was named for shining from her eyes, smiled not like a little girl but like a great queen.

  She raised him with a gesture and said softly and graciously, ‘Go in peace, my lord, there is no longer anything to forgive.’

  And as she said this they heard a cry from behind them and looked round to see Panora crouching beside a tree, her eyes still dark with pain and hate.

  Deva took a step towards her, in spite of Kyra’s warning hand.

  ‘You must go,’ she said with authority in her voice. ‘You have wandered too long between two worlds. I know myself how fruitless and lonely this can be.’

  ‘Choose spirit-world or earth-world, one or the other, and learn to live there without hate or bitterness. When you are ready, age and die as other people do. When you are ready, be born again as other people are.’
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  Panora stared at her. It was as though the figures in the forest glade were frozen in time.

  The old man, the young woman, the boy, the girl child and the girl demon were all poised on a moment of change, Panora’s decision affecting all their lives.

  At last Panora moved, and it seemed to them that the hate and bitterness had gone out of her eyes.

  She bowed her head to Deva, her one-time spirit mother, and Guiron, her earthly father, and before they realized she had it on her, she seized a dagger that was hidden at her waist and plunged it into her own heart.

  They all gasped in horror as she fell.

  Kyra held Deva and Isar back, and only Guiron moved forward swiftly and cradled the strange limp creature in his arms. He had to lean close to hear the words that she murmured as she died.

  ‘If my mother forgives you, so do I,’ she whispered and the ancient feud died with her.

  Guiron turned and looked at Isar with a question in his eyes.

  ‘We have much living to do without bothering about old tales,’ Isar said, looking at him straight.

  ‘So be it,’ Guiron said, bowing his head. ‘I thank you, and I will not cross your paths again.’

  * * * *

  At the time they did not know what he meant by this, but when they returned to the Temple he told the inner council of priests that he intended to resign as High Priest and recommended that they accepted the Lord Khu-ren in his place.

  He would not explain his reasons, but neither would he be diverted from his decision.

  Kyra and Khu-ren understood, but said nothing.

  He told them that it was his intention to leave his country and wander, a stranger in strange lands for the rest of his natural life, teaching and healing where he could.

  That way he hoped to atone for all the years he had worn the crown of the greatest priest in the land, knowing that he was not worthy of it.

  17

  Khu-ren’s Inauguration

  The inauguration of the Lord Khu-ren as the High Priest of the Temple of the Sun took place in two separate ceremonies, the first at the southern College of Star Studies at the moment of the Spring Equinox, when day and night were equal in length and all nature was poised ready for the great surge of summer growth.