The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 1-3

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The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 1-3 Page 12

by Brian D. Anderson


  “We would be honored,” said Millet. “All but Sister Kaymaya, that is. She has taken the vow of the Sacred Word.”

  “Then I will see to it that she is accommodated,” said Salmitaya. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to attend to.” She bowed her head.

  Millet and the others bowed low and watched as the High Priestess hummed softly while she walked across the floor to the stairs.

  “Do you wish for me to have someone see to your things?” asked Maybell, still glaring suspiciously.

  “To the horses and wagon, yes,” answered Millet. “But we’ll see to our own things.”

  “As you wish,” she said. “I’ll wait here.” The four of them returned to the wagon and gathered their personal gear, leaving the provisions in the wagon. When they walked back inside, Maybell was tapping her foot impatiently, her arms crossed.

  “If you please,” she said sourly. “Follow me.” She led them to the far left corner of the enormous room where a large tapestry hung. As they approached, they saw that it covered an archway leading to the rear chambers. Maybell pulled back the tapestry and motioned for the group to enter. She then led them through a series of narrow hallways with evenly spaced doors and floors made from polished wood. The walls were made of rough brick and bore no decoration.

  “As you can see,” said Maybell, “despite the beauty of the rest of the temple, we live a simple life.”

  “I haven’t noticed any other novices or priestesses,” Millet observed. “Are they all praying?”

  “There are only a few of us,” answered Maybell. “The rest have left.”

  “Why?” Millet asked. “In times like these, you would think this place would be filled with the faithful.”

  “It is,” she said, shooting an angry glance back at Millet. “The faithful are what we have here.”

  Millet decided not to pursue the matter further.

  “Here we are,” said Maybell, opening one of the doors. “You three will stay here, and you,” she said to Kaylia, “can follow me. We keep a private chamber ready for those who have taken the vow of the Sacred Word.”

  Maybell led Kaylia down the hall to a door with a six-inch circle carved in the center. Inside the circle were carved three smaller, interwoven rings.

  “This is where you will stay,” Maybell said as she opened the door. “Your vows will be respected while you remain within these walls, and I will have your meals and wash water brought to you.” Kaylia nodded and entered the room.

  “I’ll tell your friends how to find you,” Maybell said as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

  The room was drab. The plain brick walls were unadorned, and a worn rug covered part of the floor. A bed and a small table were the only furnishings. Kaylia sat cross-legged on the rug and waited.

  The room the others shared was just as bare. Bunk beds lined opposite walls, and a table and bench sat at the rear. They had just begun to unpack when there was a knock at the door. Millet opened it to find Maybell, still bearing a sour expression.

  “A basin and hot water will be brought for you,” she said curtly. “Afterwards, you are to make yourself ready for supper with Her Holiness. If you do not have clean robes, they will be provided.”

  “Thank you,” said Millet. “Clean robes would be appreciated.”

  “If you wish to see your companion, she is down the hall in the room bearing the symbol of the Sacred Word,” said Maybell. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to attend to.” She turned away and marched down the hall.

  “I don’t think she likes us very much,” said Millet, closing the door.

  “You can say that again,” Gewey agreed. “I didn’t think we were going to make it past the front door. Lucky for us the High Priestess was there.”

  Lee looked worried “Yes. Very lucky.”

  “I know that look, My Lord,” said Millet. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m not sure,” Lee replied. “Something’s not right here.”

  “I agree,” said Millet. “The temple shouldn’t be this empty, regardless of how bad the times have become.”

  Lee nodded. “It’s not just that. It’s a feeling I got when you were talking to the High Priestess. Something doesn’t fit. From what Brother Salvo told us, I expected a less hospitable welcome.”

  “Quite right, My Lord,” said Millet. “If there is something amiss, I’ll wager we’ll find out about it soon enough. In the mean time, I’d better check on Kaylia and explain the vow of the Sacred Word.”

  Lee smiled with amusement. “She’s going to love it. Don’t you think?”

  “That’s not nice, My Lord,” scolded Millet. “Besides, it’s the only way I could think of to keep her isolated.”

  “You did well, my friend,” said Lee. “Now go explain everything to Kaylia.”

  “What is the vow of the Sacred Word?” asked Gewey once Millet had left.

  “The vow of the Sacred Word, my young friend, is what only the most faithful swear before their pilgrimage,” Lee explained. “They don’t speak unless spoken to, their eyes must be lowered in submission, and they must keep their heads covered at all times. They eat alone, sleep alone, and must meditate for three hours a day. They maintain chastity and humility throughout their pilgrimage, and for one year after. Should they fail, they are required to present themselves to the High Priestess of their temple for penance. This usually means locking themselves in a small room for the remainder of their lives. Most go insane.”

  “That sounds tough,” said Gewey. “Why do they do it?”

  “To prove their faith,” he replied. “Why else?”

  A few minutes later, Millet returned.

  “How did she react?” asked Lee.

  “Well enough, My Lord, but I should have told her before we arrived. She did agree that it was the best way to stay unnoticed, but she wasn’t happy about the three hours of meditation each day. Especially when I told her that it must be done in full view of the world rather than in the privacy of her room.”

  Lee grinned mischievously. “She’ll be fine,” he said. “Showing a bit of humility is good for the soul.”

  “Indeed, My Lord,” said Millet. “Perhaps we could all do with some.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask,” said Gewey. “Why is it Millet pretends to be our leader in public?”

  Lee threw his head back, laughing loudly. “Because I am quite possibly the worst actor in the world,” he said. “Millet is much better at playing a role than I am, so we decided long ago that in cases like this, it’s best to let him take the lead.”

  “You had no trouble pretending to be a lord from the north who wanted to live out his days in the country,” Gewey noted.

  “First of all,” Lee replied, “I am a lord from the north, even though I wasn’t born one. Secondly, I was raised in a small village and understood quite well how to behave. Third, I intended to be as inconspicuous as possible when I moved there, and you’ve seen how well that worked out. I was a topic of conversation more often than the weather.”

  “You did have a habit of causing tongues to wag,” said Gewey, smiling.

  “My point exactly,” said Lee. “When it comes to blending in, Millet is the better man.”

  Just then, a young lady in brown novice robes brought them water and clean robes.

  “I’m Celandine,” she said. “Her Holiness asked me to tell you that supper will be ready in one hour. I will return then to escort you to her.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” said Millet.

  “Certainly,” she replied.

  “How many people are at the temple? Counting you, I’ve only seen three.”

  “Then you’ve seen us all,” Celandine stated.

  Millet looked shocked. “Where did the others go?”

  “That is a question best asked of Her Holiness,” she answered.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Only three people in the whole temple,” Gew
ey said, once Celandine had left. “How is that possible?”

  “Definitely a question I’ll be asking ‘Her Holiness’,” said Millet.

  The three washed and dressed, and an hour later Celandine came to escort them to dinner. They were led back out into the main part of the temple and up the spiral stairs. The upper level halls were well decorated with art and sculptures, and the floor was covered with fine, hand-woven carpets. They walked to the end of a wide hall, where they stopped at a large polished oak door with gold inlay.

  “You will be dining in Her Holiness’ private apartment,” said Celandine as she knocked gently on the door. After a moment, Maybell opened the door from within and gestured for them to enter.

  The first room of the apartment was lavish beyond anything Gewey had ever seen. The walls were covered in beautiful tapestries, and gold lanterns hung from the ceiling. Glass cases displaying gold figurines lined the doorway leading to the next room, and a small marble statue of Ayliazarah stood in each corner. In the center of the room was a large rectangular table covered by a white silk tablecloth.

  A large cushioned chair was at the head of the table, and two smaller chairs were placed on either side.

  “Please sit,” Maybell instructed. “Her Holiness will be here shortly.”

  They took their seats as Celandine left the room. A moment later, a young boy entered carrying a platter filled with cups of wine. He placed a cup in front of each of them, and one in front of both empty chairs.

  Millet noticed Maybell had moved off into the corner and was surveying the group. “Will you be joining us?” he asked.

  “She will,” said High Priestess Salmitaya as she entered from the next room.

  The High Priestess took her cup and raised it high. “Let us drink to Ayliazarah, Goddess of Love and Fertility. May she cast down her blessing and lift the shadow that has descended on our poor city.”

  Everyone lifted their cups and drank deeply. The wine was sweet and of excellent vintage.

  “Tell me, Your Holiness,” said Millet. “Is it true there are only three of you?”

  Salmitaya sighed heavily. “I fear it is so. This temple once housed over one hundred of the faithful, but those days are long gone.”

  “How could such a thing happen?” asked Millet.

  “We were a victim of our own arrogance and shortsightedness,” she explained. “My predecessors involved themselves in political maneuvering and were constantly at odds with the governors and local lords. They became more interested in their own ambitions than in the welfare of the temple. In time, they created some very powerful enemies.

  “By the time I became High Priestess there was open hostility between the temple and the government. I tried to repair relations, but sadly, my skills as a politician leave much to be desired.”

  “Couldn’t the other temples help?” Millet asked. “Surely they wouldn’t want to see a temple fail.”

  Salmitaya smiled sadly. “The other temples were as bad - if not worse - than this one. The whole city became a battleground of government versus religion. As you can see, religion lost.”

  “How could they hope to shut down a temple?” said Millet. “Didn’t the people of the city protest?”

  “Why would they?” said Salmitaya. “Governor Mattlin passed laws denying the temples the ability to do good works within the city. Instead, they fed and clothed the people while we were forced to watch and could do nothing. And when we protested, we were threatened. Without good works to show, faith in the Temple quickly diminished.”

  “Why not go to the King?” asked Millet. “Surely he could help.”

  “King Grayling III is nothing more than a puppet,” she replied. “He does the bidding of our enemies.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why there are only three of you,” Lee interjected.

  “Good,” she said, laughing gently. “I was afraid the rest of you lacked the ability to speak.”

  “Forgive me, your Holiness,” Lee said in his best rural accent.

  “Me and my young friend are not accustomed to such distinguished company. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

  “Not at all,” she said. “In fact, I insist that you feel free to speak your mind. To address what you said, we are all that is left after a long campaign by the governor to shut us down. Most of our novices, monks, and priestesses were from here in Kaltinor. The magistrate began to persecute anyone related to a member of any temple within the city walls. Those that didn’t leave out of fear for their loved ones were threatened with imprisonment. The few we had that came here from abroad eventually left to join other temples and missions. Only my remaining influence with the Council of Noble’s has prevented our complete demise.”

  “What about temples in other cities?” asked Gewey. “Couldn’t they help?”

  “I wish they could, child,” she said, her eyes fixed on Gewey. “But the world has become a dark place. They simply can’t spare any of what little resources they have. No - I’m afraid we’re on our own.”

  “There’s an encampment not far to the east,” said Millet. “A man named Brother Salvo runs it. He is good and kind. Perhaps he could help?”

  The High Priestess suddenly burst with laughter. “I know Brother Salvo,” she said. “It is I, along with what’s left of the other temples, that bribes the governor into helping him maintain his camp. He thinks we do nothing, and accuses us of turning people out. What he doesn’t understand is that at this point, even if we were left alone, we are nearly bankrupt. The King has taxed our coffers dry at the bidding of the lords. You saw for yourself what it takes for a pilgrim to enter the city. I could help a few get in, but we don’t have the means to feed or house them for more than a few weeks.”

  Gewey was staring at the riches in the room around him.

  “I can see your mind, young one,” she said. “You stare at the treasures in this room and only see how much food and shelter it could provide.”

  “I wasn’t…” Gewey stammered.

  “It’s alright,” said Salmitaya. “I take no offense, and you’re not wrong. What we have in the way of gold and other valuables could purchase much if we would actually be allowed to reap the profits. But keeping these things is the only way I can ensure that one day I might restore this place to its former glory. You see, if I sold off or traded our treasures, the tax levied on us would close our doors forever. Together, they are considered relics and can’t be taxed - at least, not yet. As things stand, I can barely feed the three of us. The boy who served you earlier puts himself in great danger when he comes here. His mother loved this place, and when she became ill the sisters and brothers cared for her until she passed. I’ve tried to stop him from coming, but he is very persistent.”

  “This is all so unfair,” cried Gewey. “I don’t understand how someone could do this to a temple.”

  “In a way, we brought it upon ourselves,” she explained. “If we had stayed faithful to our purpose and left politics alone, we might be having a much different conversation.”

  Just then, Celandine entered the room, followed by the young boy. They carried trays filled with food and placed them on the

  table. The boy ran off and returned with plates and silverware that he quickly put in front of the party.

  “Wonderful,” said the High Priestess, “Enough of this sad talk. Let us enjoy the meal Sister Celandine has prepared.”

  “Won’t she be joining us?” asked Millet.

  “What a good idea!” Salmitaya replied. “You heard him, sister. Join us.” Celandine nodded her head and retrieved a chair from the next room.

  “Don’t bother serving us, Sister,” said Salmitaya. “We’ll serve ourselves.” She turned back toward her guests and continued.

  “Forgive the lack of formality. Celandine is our only cook these days, and it’s usually just three of us. She doubles as server on the rare occasions we have guests.”

  “We are used to serving ourselves, Holiness,” said Millet. “Be
sides, we’re pilgrims - not lords.”

  They passed the trays around until everyone’s plate was full. The food was good. Though not extravagant, it was better than anything Gewey had tasted in a long time. The conversation was light and cheerful. The High Priestess asked about their travels, and Millet mixed in truth with lies as he told their story. She seemed very interested in Gewey’s farm upbringing. They had told her that he was raised on a farm and had come to the temple after his father died.

  “What do you think of the city, Brother Gewton?” asked Salmitaya. “I bet it’s much different than what you’re used to.”

  “Yes, it is, Your Holiness,” answered Gewey.

  “I have a meeting with the governor tomorrow,” said Salmitaya. “It’s pointless, but unfortunately I must attend. I was thinking you might come with me. Would you like that?”

  “We would love to come, Holiness,” Millet answered quickly.

  “I’m sorry, Brother Milton,” she said. “I could explain away one lonely young pilgrim, but a group may cause problems. I’m sure you won’t mind if the boy accompanies me. The governor wants me there at the crack of dawn, and he takes pleasure in making me wait. I could use the company, and Brother Gewton would get the chance to see the manor. It’s a beautiful house, actually.”

  “Of course,” said Millet. “I’m sure Brother Gewton will be happy to accompany you, Your Holiness.”

  Lee tried to hide the concern on his face. Gewey, on the other hand, looked excited. The chance to see inside the governor’s manor was something he would have hated to pass up.

  “It’s settled, then,” she declared. “I will wake you in the morning and bring you with me. Expect to be away for most of the day. There’s no telling how long I’ll be made to wait.”

  When they finished dinner, Maybell and Celandine cleared the table.

  Salmitaya stood up. “While I would love to stay up and talk, I must now excuse myself. It’s rare that I have the pleasure of stimulating conversation, but the morning comes early and brings with it a trying day. If you will agree to linger for a few days, I would love to speak with you more. We don’t get much news from the world here.”

 

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