The Three Lands Omnibus (2011 Edition)

by Dusk Peterson

Then the Jackal reached up and pulled away his mask, as though he had only placed it there to give us warning of his approach. He spoke to us through the body of John, but his voice was that of the god in my vision.

  "Place the Koretian people under my care, Chara Peter," he said in a voice more soft than a whisper but more pronounced than a shout. "For the people must be taught one last lesson in how to wear the Pendant of Judgment, and that lesson they must learn from the servant who wears this mask, not the Chara. Thirty-five years ago, as men count time, I took the first steps to give my people into the care of the Chara, that they might learn through his vengeance and mercy what it means to judge. Yet, for to keep the Koretians from enslaving themselves and losing the courage to break their bonds, I have hunted my own people and commanded that brother shall shed the blood of brother. Thus have I suffered for my people and taught them to suffer, for there can be no judgment without sacrifice. And as they have been taught what it is to judge, I have taught you today what it is to be judged, that you need never again wear my pendant in fear."

  I heard the Chara breathing heavily beside me. He spoke in a voice low but firm: "Take your people, then, for you are their master."

  "I am indeed their master, and they are my servants," said the god with his low, thundering voice. "They are my servants, as you are my servant, wearing my mask and speaking in my voice the laws which I gave to the Emorian people. For I care nothing for blood vows or blade vows to brothers or lands; these I gave to my people only that they might understand the meaning of sacrifice. To mortals who have the eyes to see, there are neither Emorians nor Koretians, but only those who receive peace by being servants of the god."

  He was silent again, and we watched and waited, but I did not see the moment when the power left John, for his eyes remained the same.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  John spoke finally in his own voice, saying, "But I will need your help, Chara, for while the god may be all-knowing, his servant John is not, and you will have to teach me what I must do, as a man teaches his younger brother. I thank you for entrusting me with this duty."

  Peter gave a sigh like an explosion. His face had gone from grey to moonlight white, and his hand was shaking as he raised it to steady himself against the window jamb. But as I watched, there appeared for the briefest moment the rigid expression I had seen on his face for ten years and had never recognized for what it was. Then the god-mask was gone, and Peter whispered, "Yes," and I knew that he had recognized the truth of the god's words.

  He took another deep breath before saying to John, "I could not ask you while you still held me in your power."

  There was a pause before John replied. As I looked over at him, I saw that a cautious look had entered his face, and I realized that he too had previously been shielded by the god from the knowledge of what Peter was. Then he smiled and said, "And I could not have accepted your offer had you made it then, so I am glad that I asked Andrew's judgment in this matter. My own would have been different. That is twice I have been wrong and Andrew has been right, and I am beginning to wonder whether the god has been speaking through another man today. But I will go now and let the thieves know what has happened here. Andrew can escort you back to the palace when you are ready."

  Peter waited until John was at the door, and then said, in a low voice that barely carried to the end of the hall, "Before I leave, I would like to pay my respects to your wife."

  John's smile turned light. "She is not my wife. But I am sure that she will be glad to see you." He closed the door.

  Peter stared at me, and I waited to see what he would say, whether he would doom me with further recriminations or give me the mercy of forgiveness. But what he said was, "What did he mean, that she is not his wife?"

  "Ursula is not married to John. They have lived as husband and wife to the world, but she is like a sister to him."

  "And what is she to you?" Peter asked abruptly.

  I stared at him, wondering whether he had guessed who her mother was. Peter went on, his voice turned harsh, "I saw how you held her in this very chamber. I know that you cannot love her in a normal way, but if you have found some way of – of showing love to her and making her love you, then I wish to know this."

  It seemed to me that my life could grow no darker than this, that Peter would hate me so much that he would not bother to speak of my betrayal, even to condemn me, but would rebuke me for some small matter. And yet the darkness I found myself in was still the darkness of my vision, so I said to him calmly, with no anger or pain, "She is my sister. Her mother was my mother, and her father was the Emorian soldier who enslaved me. Chara—"

  He turned abruptly, looking at the door. He stood very still as he gazed at it, and I sensed that he had forgotten I was there. After a moment, without looking my way, he walked out of the sanctuary.

  I remained in the shadows, remembering the darkness that had enclosed me in the vision. Somewhere beyond the darkness, I knew, was severe pain, the pain that I had betrayed the Chara and that he had not forgiven me. If I left this sanctuary, I knew somehow that the darkness would be gone, and I would feel the pain.

  I walked over to the window and sat down, then took the Chara's dagger from my belt and held it over my wrist, crossways from the white scar I had made for John so long ago. The dagger tingled in my hand, as it had when I had tried to kill the soldier and Lord Carle and the Koretian in the market. All of these events, I realized, had just been death shadows of the temptation that lay before me. I was tempted, as I had been three times before in my life, to stay in the shadow of the god and share his painless existence. This time I would not be called back from the darkness by Peter's voice speaking to his father in anger or John's voice speaking to me with judgment or Ursula's voice praying to her god for mercy. The only voice that could still send me back from the darkness was the god's, and I listened for his command.

  I thought of how I had betrayed the Chara and betrayed the Jackal, of how I had betrayed Emor and betrayed Koretia; I thought of all the pain that awaited me if I once more left this room and faced the light. I waited for the god to explain why he had commanded me to do these things; I waited for him to explain why I should undergo further pain. And then I remembered John's voice as he spoke the god's words, and I knew that the Unknowable God had no need to speak to me, because he had told me all that I desired to know in his final words in this room.

  So I went in search of the Chara.

  As I slipped into the corridor, I found myself in a maelstrom of excitement as the thieves received the news of their land's freedom. Too well trained to shout, they contented themselves with pounding each other on their backs and throwing their weapons into a silver pile in the corner. John was at the far end of the corridor, talking to Brendon. I walked toward him, and as I passed the main door, I caught a glimpse of the farmer as he disappeared down the mountainside. I could guess that he had finally been given permission to search for the missing thief.

  Unnoticed by the joyful thieves, I paused at each cell to look inside. In the background of the thieves' low voices, I could hear John still talking to Brendon – I caught the word "Chara" and then, a little later, "Ursula." Catching sight of me, John gestured with his head toward the closed dormitory door as he pulled Brendon further down the corridor to where the other thieves were waiting, eager to question the Jackal.

  I opened the door to the dormitory, and there I found Peter, kissing my sister.

  I stood there for a moment, my mind whirling with yet more images from the past few weeks: Peter sitting on his bed next to me, saying, "I want to remove my mask"; Ursula sitting on my bed next to me, saying, "I have fallen in love." Then the lovers looked over and saw me. Ursula glanced back at Peter and read something in his face. Without saying anything to him, she left the room, glancing uncertainly at me as she passed. Peter waited, and it was though I was seeing through his eyes what he must have seen the night he had me brought to him for judgment.

  I said
, "You did not tell me you loved her."

  He replied, in the casual manner he would have in the old days, "I didn't know that she loved me or that she was free to love me. Do I have your consent to marry her?"

  I walked over to where he stood, framed against the window facing north. Behind him were the black border mountains, untouched by the moonlight that spilled like snowfall onto the ground. I took too long to reply, for Peter asked, "Do you hate me that much?"

  "Hate you?" I stared at Peter.

  "For betraying you."

  I shook my head, incredulous. "It was I who betrayed you."

  A look came into Peter's eyes, the look that had been in his eyes after the Unknowable God spoke to us. He said in a low voice, "I don't know how I could tell anyone of what happened tonight. I don't fully understand what took place. If anything is clear to me, it's that the Power I heard in that sanctuary has commanded me to give him my service, not through the performance of religious rites, but through my proclamation and enforcement of the laws of Emor. This is something I can understand. Therefore, I won't say, as John said, that you were speaking today with the voice of the god, but I will say that you were following a law that is unknown even to the Chara."

  Peter reached over and touched me lightly on the arm as he added softly, "You betrayed John and you betrayed me, but you did not betray this higher law – and I never believed that you did. I only said otherwise because I was terrified of dying and even more terrified that I would betray my duty as the Chara to avoid dying. So, to avoid this fear, I hurt my wine-friend. Please forgive me."

  I felt as though the hard bonds of diplomacy and silence that I had forged for myself during my years in Emor were breaking around me, and that I would never again be able to hold my heart completely in hiding. "It makes no sense for you to ask my forgiveness, after what I did."

  "No. Nor did it make any sense for you to do what you did. But because of you, I am free and Koretia is free and we are able to be friends once more. Whatever this voice of yours is, it is not something that follows logic."

  I tried to understand this, gave up, and silently handed the Chara his dagger.

  "Thank you," he said as he sheathed it. "And now . . . I have, by some miracle, faced death all this day without sliding to my knees and begging the Jackal for my life, but I swear, Andrew, you will find me kneeling at your feet in the next moment if you don't tell me whether I may marry your sister."

  A smile slid easily onto my face, as though it were returning home. "Of course. You are lucky to find each other. But what will the council lords say?"

  "The council lords," said Peter dryly, "are apt to be busy picking me apart over my decision to free Koretia. But in any case, they know that I wouldn't enter into any marriage that went against my duties as the Chara. It may take them time to understand how Emor could be benefitted by a common half-Koretian girl, but they will see in the end."

  Noise attracted my attention. As I looked out the window, I saw the thieves pouring out of the gods' house, smiling and chatting in voices no longer kept low in fear. Brendon hushed them with his hand, as though to indicate that their work was not yet done. Glancing back, he caught sight of me and waved a farewell at me with his blade. It was an Emorian soldier's sword, John had told me that afternoon – a relic from Brendon's years in the governor's army, which he had joined during the years when he was still seeking his true master.

  "Will you take her with you to live in Emor?" I asked.

  "She wants to live there – which is fortunate, as I have no choice but to return there. She says that she would like to stay in the palace where you lived for so many years." He paused, and then added, "She knows what your friendship means to me, and so she assumes you'll be returning with us. But I won't ask you to do so, because I know what your answer must be."

  I kept my eyes focussed on the dark land beyond the window. "I didn't know what my answer would be until you spoke just now. When did you guess?"

  "Twelve years ago, when I first saw you staring at those mountains. I knew then that you would one day return to your homeland. I was grateful to you for staying with me as long as you did."

  I turned back to Peter. He was looking at me with the same somber eyes and slight smile he had shown on that day when he learned that I wished to be his friend, when he learned that I was willing to stay with him for a little while more. He said, "There is a Koretian custom – I seem to have heard of it somewhere – that when two friends must be parted, they mix their blood, so that if ever they meet again, they will know each other. Is this a custom that an Emorian may practice?" He unsheathed his dagger and held it out to me.

  I shook my head. "We have shared wine already. You have been as close to me as a blood brother for many years. As for our blood, it is neither Emorian nor Koretian, but simply the blood of friends. And soon my sister will be your wife, and I think that we can expect that some day nobody will be asking each other which land they are loyal to, but simply what they are loyal to."

  He nodded, letting his dagger-hand drop. His gaze drifted to the door, as though my mention of Ursula had been her voice calling him. "Go to her," I said. "When you're ready, she and I will escort you back to the governor's palace."

  Peter shook his head. "I still have work to do before it will be safe to take Ursula there. The governor won't give up his power easily; I may need Carle's help in seeing to Lord Alan's arrest." He began to turn, but paused when he saw me looking at the brooch near his throat, the one I had always thought his father had given him. I felt pressing in the back of my mind a memory I could not identify.

  Peter followed the direction of my gaze. "Carle gave it to me the night you and I first talked – one of the few times he has been able to unbend far enough to treat me as something other than his master. I had actually sneaked out of my chamber to go see him, something I'd never done before. Well, I was disappointed in what he had to say, as you know. But I wasn't disappointed in what he was, not since that first evening when he had the courage to defend me to my father."

  "You never told me."

  "I never told you because I didn't want you to be as envious of him as he is of you."

  It was a shock as great as any I had received that night, yet it came, like the others, with a sense of recognition, as though I had always known. I stood there motionless, remembering my talk with Lord Carle that day, and how, even at the moment that I confirmed his dark suspicions by betraying the Chara, he still spoke to me in the words of a defeated soldier. "Why does he envy me?" I asked.

  "Because you can treat me as your equal, and he cannot." Peter touched the brooch lightly. "Do you remember how, on that first night, we talked of slave-masks? I fear that Carle will never be able to remove the mask of obedience he has forced himself to wear."

  I felt a breeze brush my face as though my own slave-mask had been, if not removed, turned into something I could bear wearing. "Perhaps," I said. "But perhaps Lord Carle can transform his slave-mask into a god-mask. I'll do my part by apologizing to him for my behavior toward him."

  "He doesn't deserve an apology," said Peter. "Not after the way he treated you."

  "I still feel it's something I should do. Didn't your father say once that you must use the Heart of Mercy on those you hate?"

  Peter raised his eyebrows. "And the Jackal demands sacrifices from his servants. Well, as you have said, the ways of the gods are mysterious. Besides" – he gave a quick grin – "to see you apologize to Carle would almost be worth all I have suffered this past night." And the Chara raised his dagger to me in a salute before leaving the room.

  But I remained where I was for some time, thinking of the Unknowable God and of his fire that brings both pain and mercy.

  o—o—o

  When I returned to the sanctuary, I found John sitting where I had seen him fifteen years before, on the day that we were parted. The mask dangled from his fingers. As I sat down opposite him, he said quietly, "I'm glad you're here – I was about to leave
. The Jackal must make his final night-prowl to bring the good news to his thieves . . . and to help the Chara bring the governor to justice."

  "I was with Peter," I said. "He has forgiven me, and he wishes to marry Ursula."

  "I saw Ursula, and she told me both pieces of news. Did you give your consent?"

  "Naturally. Though he ought to have asked you. You were the one who raised her."

  John smiled and leaned back easily against the window jamb. "I hope their marriage will be good for them. I know that it will be good for our lands." He continued to smile, but something in his eyes made me listen to his words carefully. He said, "Ursula told me that she and the Chara and you are going home soon. If the peace holds, I know that the Chara will be unable to visit here again. Do you think that you ever will?"

  I looked toward the city, still peaceful, which would now remain peaceful under the Jackal's rule. Further down the mountainside was the priests' house, where my sister was born and John had sought his god. Below that was the cave where I had first seen Peter, where John and I had become blood brothers, and where, unperceived to me, the Unknowable God had placed me under his care.