Sun in Glory and Other Tales of Valdemar v(-100

by Mercedes Lackey

  * * *

  Long years of training and practice woke Reulan the next morning before dawn, though with his windows shuttered the interior of his room was dark as night. He reached for the candle on his bedside table and froze in place. A light purr sounded from the end of his bed and the by now familiar weight of the cat shifted ever so slightly beside Reulan’s feet. A chill ran up Reulan’s spine as he lit the candle and discovered the cat busily engrossed in his morning bath. A quick glance to both windows revealed that the wind had not blown them open during the night, and that the door remained securely shut. How, in the name of Vkandis Sunlord, had the cat managed to get inside?

  “You’re the oddest fellow I’ve ever had the occasion to meet,” Reulan said, reaching down to scratch his bedmate behind the ears, the sound of his own voice helping dispel the strangeness of the situation. “You must have run in between my feet last night without my knowing it, no?” The cat merely yawned, showing sharp white teeth and pink tongue.

  Reulan stretched, rose from bed and opened his windows and door. The storm had indeed cleared the air and, this high in the hills, even in summer the morning was bracingly cool. The cat rubbed up against his ankles, meowed pitifully as if he had not eaten in days, and planted himself in the chair he had claimed for his own. Reulan washed his face from the bucket on the cupboard, dried off, and donned his vestments. The rising sun celebration was close at hand; he left his room, crossed the small chapel and threw open the doors at its west end. Then, standing before the altar, he closed his eyes, opened his mind to the glory of the God, and waited for first light to strike the windows above his head.

  He felt a bump against his leg and quickly opened his eyes. The cat sat beside him, facing the altar, proper as any worshiping villager. At first, this had somehow bothered Reulan, but he believed that Vkandis cared for all creatures, that any who wished to worship the God should be welcome at his altar. Reulan heard the village farmers arriving and sensed them standing in silent meditation as the first rays of sun struck the windows above.

  Lifting his hands, Reulan spoke the words of Morning Greeting.

  “Vkandis Sunlord, Giver of Life and Light, be with us today. We praise you, we honor you, we keep you in our hearts and minds. What is good and true, help us to do and become. What is hateful and cruel, aid us in denying. We offer this day to you, Sunlord, and seek your blessings on all that we do.”

  “May it be so,” responded the voices behind him.

  Reulan extinguished the candle that had lit the chapel during the night and turned to face his congregation. “Go forth to daylight, knowing the God is by your side.” The farmers bowed their heads briefly, smiled at Reulan, and silently filed out of the chapel to their various fields and gardens. Once again, the cat rubbed up against his legs, meowing pitifully.

  “Breakfast, eh? What would you like this morning, sir cat? I have only what I’ve given you in the past-sausage. I’d think you’d grow tired of it.” The cat looked up and, for a brief moment, Reulan could have sworn he heard a voice saying, “Well, if you must ask, I’d really rather have fish.” He laughed quietly, amused that he had assigned spoken words to an animal, and returned to his room and his morning meal, the cat following close behind.

  * * *

  Being a sun-priest in a small village required not only knowledge of the ways of Vkandis Sunlord but also of teaching, mending (both physical and metaphysical), gardening and, to a certain extent, more than a passing proficiency in healing. But one of the most pleasant duties of a priest to Reulan’s mind was the time he spent in silent meditation, fixing his mind on the glory and love of the God he served. It had become his habit, not long after arriving in Sweetwater and becoming old Beckor’s assistant priest, to spend this time outdoors, preferably at high noon when the Vkandis’ power was the greatest. The place he set aside for communion with the God was a small clearing in the forest east of the village. It was there that Reulan turned his footsteps this day, his morning chores done and the villagers about their daily tasks. He strode along the pathway, his mind stilled, already slipping into light meditation. The cat, as usual, came along, periodically darting off into the bushes, then back again.

  The day was especially fine, blue sky above and sunlight slanting through the trees.

  Reulan rejoiced and marveled at the power of the God that protected the land and its people. Though apprenticed at an early age to Beckor, which made his parents proud and additionally relieved them of a mouth to feed, he had always felt close to the God. Somehow he sensed he had been born to this...that he had been chosen from an early age. Now with Beckor gone to the God and Reulan no longer apprenticed, his life seemed to have become all it was meant to be.

  The clearing lay just over a rocky rise in the ground. Reulan could see the sunlight pooling ahead and quickened his pace, eager to arrive at his goal.

  :Reulan! Snake! Don’t move!:

  For a moment, Reulan thought his heart had stopped. He certainly did, for anyone who had been born and raised in this area of Karse knew the peril of snakes. Frozen into immobility, he looked down to see a large rock snake stretched out on the path in a patch of sunlight, only two steps away. A cold sweat broke out on Reulan’s forehead: the bite of a rock snake was often fatal. Very carefully and ever so slowly, he backed away, never taking his eyes from the reptile.

  Halfway down the path now and far enough away that the snake posed no immediate danger, he started shaking, aware just how close to death he had come. But who had called out his name? Who had warned him?

  The cat rubbed up against his leg and sat down.

  :Well,: a voice said inside his head. :The least you could do is thank me.: Reulan stared at the cat, feeling his mouth drop open.

  :And close your mouth before you catch flies,: the cat advised, cocking his head and twitching his tail around his front paws.

  A talking cat! Knees suddenly weak, Reulan glanced around, very carefully this time, for a place to sit that was not already occupied by a snake. Sinking down on a small boulder, he stared at the cat, his pulse racing. He had heard old grandmother tales about talking beasts-birds, horses, cats-creatures larger than normal that could speak mind-to-mind, but he had always considered these tales a fine way to while away the long hours of a winter night, not truth. But now...

  Reulan swallowed heavily. “You talk!” he finally got out when he had gained control of his voice.

  :It’s fortunate for you that I do,: the cat retorted, but Reulan sensed a smile. :And since we’re now on speaking terms, you may call me Khar.:

  Khar? Certainly no name of any cat he had ever known-certainly not Boots, Patches, Puss or any of the other descriptive appellations people gave their cats.

  “But...how...I mean, you’re speaking to me like...like...”

  :A person?: And this time Reulan was certain he heard a laugh. :We all have our burdens to bear. And yours, sun-priest, is rudeness. You still haven’t thanked me.: Reulan licked his lips and swallowed again. “Thank you, Khar. I could be dead if you hadn’t been with me! But why-”

  :If you’d be so kind,: Khar interrupted, busy now smoothing down his abundant whiskers, :I’d appreciate a small reward. I would suggest a fish...a large, fat fish.: How catlike. Despite his confusion and awe, Reulan smiled. Trust a feline to always be looking out for itself. “I’m sorry, Khar,” he said, feeling slightly foolish to be talking to a cat.

  “Sweetwater has no fish. And if we wanted fish, which most of us don’t, we’d have to depend on traders or go to Sunhame itself.”

  :Well, now, that’s an idea. Let’s go to Sunhame, you and I, and you can get me a fish.:

  Reulan stared at the cat, unsure if he was being mocked or not. Sunhame was more than four days’ walk away, not an arduous journey but one he had not particularly contemplated. A sudden thought passed through his mind. Sunhame. He hadn’t been in the capital city since the final six-month period of his training as sun-priest and that had been over three years ago. The Holy
Writ required that every person, once in his or her lifetime, should visit Sunhame. The most propitious of times to make that journey was at mid-summer, to be present at the high holy day of Summer Solstice, when the sun stood longest in the sky. Naturally, the journey was even more important for sun-priests, who were expected to serve as examples to the populace. He mentally figured out the calendar: Summer Solstice was only six days away. He could easily make Sunhame by then.

  He snorted. What was he thinking? Why should he suddenly leave his village to make a journey to Sunhame? Certainly not for a fish, though he knew he owed Khar more than a simple meal for saving his life. On the other hand, the village was as prosperous as a village its size could be, its people were healthy, and no babies were due. Besides, the village midwife could handle that far better than he.

  A strange, fey mood swept over him. Sunhame. Why not?

  “Do you think,” he asked, reaching down to scratch Khar under the chin, “that you could wait a bit to collect your reward? Long enough for me to set things right in the village and to pack my supplies? Or do you suggest we leave this very day?” If feline expressions could be said to duplicate those of human beings, Khar looked positively disgusted. :Cats, Reulan,: he said with monumental dignity, :are known for their patience. A few more days certainly won’t kill me.:

  * * *

  And so it had been decided. Reulan had sought out Santon, the village headman, and explained that he would be making a pilgrimage to Sunhame to fulfill his obligation to be present at the Temple of Vkandis Sunlord at the Summer Solstice. Santon, understandably, was somewhat taken aback by the suddenness of this decision, but Reulan had mollified the big farmer by pointing out that the villagers could walk to Two-Trees, the village closest, for their own mid-summer celebration at that chapel. And if anyone was injured or needed medical care, Two Trees was large enough to have its own healer.

  Truth to be told, another reason surfaced in Reulan’s mind for the journey, and that was simple curiosity. When traders had come through Sweetwater a month ago, they had told the villagers that the tragic and untimely death of the Son of the Sun, along with the inability of the senior-most priests of the Temple to choose his successor, had thrown Sunhame into confused anticipation. From what the traders said, infighting among various factions of the senior priesthood had broken out. Time and again they had sought a consensus, put forward various candidates, but had reached no agreement. It seemed as if something was blocking a decision that would make everyone happy.

  Reulan looked on the infighting among his superiors with a certain amount of disdain.

  Politics! God, he hated politics! As a priest, it was his duty to worship Vkandis and to look after the God’s people, not to find ways to increase his own standing. But if there was any time to journey to Sunhame, to see the Temple again, and possibly to be present at the elevation of the new Son of the Sun, this was it.

  And so, the following morning Reulan set forth, carrying a light pack filled with provisions enough to see him there and back. The villagers had wished him a good journey and smiled to see their priest and his always-present cat set off down the dusty road to the south. Long accustomed to physical activity, Reulan soon settled into his walking stride, an easy gait that would carry him to his stopping place for the night without leaving him exhausted. He glanced down at Khar who trotted alongside, and shook his head. If he hadn’t thought his eyes were deceiving him, he would have sworn that Khar had grown overnight.

  The biggest cat he had ever seen now appeared even bigger.

  “Well, Khar,” he said conversationally, “are you happy now? We’re off to Sunhame and your fish.”

  :And possibly more than that,: was the cat’s reply.

  Reulan waited for Khar to continue, but the cat fell silent. Reulan shook his head. Cats.

  Some of the most secretive creatures ever born, it ill served a human to attempt to pry information from them. Even ones who spoke.

  The setting sun to his right, Reulan and Khar entered the next village south of Sweetwater. His black robes and gold chain of office would grant him food and rest wherever he chose to stop, but he aimed for the chapel, knowing that Faroaks’ own priest would welcome him for the night. And he was correct, for as he approached the chapel to attend its own sunset service, Dhadi stood at the doors, waiting for the villagers who chose to attend the service.

  “Reulan!” the priest said, extending his hand in greeting. “What brings you to Faroaks?” His eyes fell on the cat, who sat at Reulan’s side, breathing a bit heavily from the long walk. “God of Light, Reulan! Where in the world did you find that cat? It’s absolutely huge!”

  Reulan glanced at Khar and started. If possible, Khar had grown even more during the walk from Sweetwater. “He adopted me,” he explained lamely, feeling as if he had blundered into some story. And Dhadi only knew the half of it. Reulan smiled what he hoped was his most disarming smile. “I’m on my way to Sunhame for the Summer Solstice and if I could spend the night with you, I’d be most appreciative.”

  “Of course,” Dhadi said. “Come in, Reulan. The sun’s nearly set and I must light the Night Candle.” He looked slightly askance at Khar. “Does he follow you even to services?”

  “He’s one of the God’s creatures,” Reulan responded. “If you don’t mind, he’ll come with me.”

  For a moment, Reulan thought Dhadi would refuse, but his fellow priest merely shook his head and gestured inside. “Stranger things have happened,” he murmured. “You and your cat are welcome, Reulan. The God’s blessing be on both of you.”

  * * *

  After assisting Dhadi in celebrating the rising sun and sharing a wholesome breakfast with his fellow priest, Reulan set out on the road again. He had not even reached the fields when he noticed several villagers following after. With the breeze at his back, he overheard snatches of conversation, not a bit of which was devoted to him. No, it was Khar they spoke about. Finally, curiosity triumphed and one of the men trotted up to Reulan’s side.

  “Begging your pardon, sun’s-ray,” he said, dipping his head in an abbreviated bow.

  “Me and my friends, well, we’ve never seen such a cat as the one you’ve got. He’s near big as my dog.”

  Reulan shrugged uncomfortably. “You think he’s big? You should see the mice in Sweetwater!”

  The farmer simply stared, oblivious to Reulan’s attempted humor. “Maybe so, sun’s-ray, but he’s one blessed big cat.” He dipped his head again. “Sunlord guard you on your journey.”

  “And bless you and your endeavors,” Reulan replied automatically, sketching the Holy Disk symbol to include them all.

  He turned away and set out on the road again, Khar trotting along at his side. Once he was out of hearing range, he glanced down at the cat. “You’ve grown again,” he accused, shifting his pack on his shoulders to a more comfortable position. “And don’t try to deny it.”

  :Perhaps,: Khar replied. :But maybe you’re only seeing better.: Reulan made a face. “Inscrutable as always, sir cat. I must admit you’re beginning to make me nervous.”

  If a cat could snort derisively, Khar did just that. :Spoken by a man who for days now has been conversing with a “dumb” animal.:

  A faint blush heated Reulan’s cheeks. “Maybe so, Khar, but something’s going on here that I don’t understand. Why did you ‘adopt’ me? And, for the love of the Lord of Light, how is it that you talk?”

  Khar flicked his tail in high good humor. :You’ve been initiated into mysteries, Priest Reulan. And aside from your initial shock, you’ve adapted very well. Who better to ask for fish?:

  * * *

  Three days into his journey, Reulan found the road becoming more crowded. No longer did he simply meet farmers going out to their fields, or the occasional horse-drawn cart filled with vegetables headed off to market somewhere. Now he shared the road with well-dressed folk who rode horseback, or those who walked in groups, all seemingly headed to Sunhame for the Summer Solstice. As t
he riders passed, bowing in their saddles to a sun-priest, he had to endure their comments about the size and beauty of the cat at his side. A few even made offers of purchase, proposing sums that made Reulan’s head spin.

  As for Khar, despite his dissembling, he had continued to grow. The farmers outside Faroaks should see him now, Reulan thought. Though he had become somewhat accustomed (if that word fairly described his state of mind) to Khar’s company and to sharing conversations with what everyone else deemed a speechless animal, he felt he somehow skirted the edge of mystery.

  That evening, stopping in a large village, he once again sought out the local sun-priest, arriving just in time for the lighting of the Night Candle. He knew the priest here very well; his former master Beckor had apprenticed Jaskhi at one time, before Reulan’s entry into the priesthood. Reulan and Jaskhi had become close friends after Beckor had died, the young priest turning to the older man for wisdom and support.

  “So, Reulan,” Jaskhi said, dinner over and the two of them sitting for a moment in the well-lit room behind Jaskhi’s chapel. Khar had curled up at Reulan’s feet, purring like approaching thunder. “You’re making your pilgrimage, eh? Better early than late, I say.

  You’ve timed your journey well, my friend. You should arrive in Sunhame the morning of the Summer Solstice. All the inns will be full, but you can always find a place to sleep at the Temple.”

  “Unless it’s too full of quarreling priests,” Reulan murmured.

  “Ah, that!” Jaskhi waved a dismissive hand. “When Vkandis wills, they’ll find their choice obvious. And what better day for that to happen than Summer Solstice? I envy you, Reulan. To be present at such an event is something no one would ever forget.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Now, tell me about your cat.”

  Reulan sighed. If one more person asked him about Khar, he thought he would choke.

  By this time, however, he had come up with a story of how Khar had “adopted” him he could recite without even thinking about it.