Today the Freamhaigh of the Tree was going to concede to the Church. And for this reason he was worried about Gaea. She would not take this lightly, and that, more than anything, scared him deeply. Never in the history of the Tree had a druid disobeyed Gaea; their allegiance was vital to safety of humanity. He fought a constant battle against his own best instincts. The Cill Darae had been vexed. He had never seen her so angry. She had vowed to flee the capital and take his wife and daughter with her. His wife had cried and pleaded with him to reconsider, but he knew he could not. He could not understand why they could not see the chaos that would occur, should he not concede to the Church. The balance was almost shattered. The last words to him from the Cill Darae were not kind. Benjamin was living in a dreamlike state now. He felt like a leaf caught in the wind and never finding purchase.
The Great Debate had stirred the people far and wide in the Realm. The people of the cities and larger villages were now joining the farmers and workers – those who believed most strongly in the Word and laughed in secret at the Church. It was happening too fast and Benjamin feared what the results would be. Should the Word win the day, the King would strike out into the heart of the people. Civil war at best. Death for many was certain. His Army would decimate entire villages to quell unrest. Benjamin could not allow that to happen. Even if Gaea was displeased. His conscience could not stomach anything less from him. He looked out at the people gathered here in the Church and knew he would do everything he could to spare them their lives.
Bishop Arnold and he had discussed the proceedings of today at length and they had mapped out a logical argument to present to the populace. They would act out a scripted circular argument that would eventually focus in on the power of Faith and how in the Church it could overcome all doubt and obstacles. Only through Faith could salvation and eternal life be granted in heaven and earth. It was a weak argument. But it would suffice.
Benjamin had deflected any and all discussion regarding Faith during the debates. It was a rather touchy subject and far too ethereal for his tastes. Faith was nothing more than religious delusion, but on a far grander scale than normal. You could back a zealot up into a corner but they would remain defiantly professing their Faith and that was enough for them to close their ears to logic and reason.
And so he would lose the debate. Any other option would ensure that nothing healthy could grow from it. The land would suffer. Surely Gaea understood that? Thankfully, the Bishop understood and agreed. The deception bothered them both but the greater good demanded their solution. They were united in that.
Benjamin was saddened for his friend. The Bishop had lost his faith some time ago, and he was greatly diminished by it. Not that his faith had been his strength, but his character and personality he had nurtured for all his years was now reduced by its absence. He was struggling for direction and a purpose in his life. He hoped to remain in a purely secular life following the debate today. He would find peace in seclusion and read and study. Benjamin had promised to stay in close touch with him and they had embraced briefly as only true friends could.
Benjamin looked over to the King, who was seated nearby, speaking to his aide in quiet tones. At least we will be able to avoid the King's reaction to losing the seat of his power. He grinned despite the severity of the thought. That would be a nightmare of biblical proportions.
Arnold caught the grin and beamed at him, confidence seemed to flow from him and Benjamin tried to relax and prepare himself mentally for the role he was to play.
A short time later, the debate was well underway, and they were building to their carefully orchestrated finale. Benjamin was hanging his head and giving off the body language of a man defeated. He could sense the reaction of the audience. Many were not happy, and he smiled to himself. Wait until they hear the conclusion, he thought. Better their disappointment than their death.
He stole glances at the King and was happy to see him sitting tall and straight and smiling. Even the King could sense the direction the debate was going, even though Benjamin knew he could barely follow the details. His years of whoring, drinking and drugs had permanently damaged him.
It wouldn't be long now before he could end this and be done with the farce. Soon he could bring his family back to the city and repair his relationship with the Cill Darae and Gaea. He had to merely be patient. He and the Bishop exchanged a look and Benjamin nodded imperceptibly. Here it comes: his act of defiance against the wishes of Gaea. She will understand in time.
Just then Benjamin felt the focus of Gaea shift entirely to this chamber. A hush fell on the room and many looked about, trying to discover where the feeling of being watched was coming from. The Bishop stopped speaking mid–sentence and an unearthly silence filled the air. A deep, resonant hum filled the chamber, and it throbbed with intensity, growing stronger with every heartbeat.
Benjamin reeled inside with the horror of what he was sensing. Gaea, the Earth Mother, had placed her entire focus on this one small region of the earth. Benjamin shuddered to think what chaos was happening worldwide. He felt so infinitesimally small and insignificant – his very being cried out for release from the scrutiny. Suddenly he understood his folly. How could I have gone against her wishes? How could I have failed her? He grovelled inside to her. He mentally begged for forgiveness. Tears flowed freely from his eyes. Benjamin saw others prostrate themselves on the ground in the Church. Some cried out to God and others merely wept. Some were full of joy and rapture.
Elsewhere in the capital, people stopped what they were doing and gazed about at each other. No one knew what was happening, only that they could sense a presence nearby.
All cries and shouting from the people broke off at once by some unheard command that they all obeyed without question and a great silence filled the air, shocking in the abruptness of it.
Benjamin whispered a silent no to Gaea and pleaded with her. He sensed a wry humour from Gaea at his plea and he knew with certainty that he had been played by her. She had orchestrated all this for this moment in time and he cried in shame. She had selected him to be Freamhaigh not because of his abilities as a druid, rather it was his ability to make a case against the Church. To win the debate on her behalf. He was nothing more than an actor on a stage. He felt her sympathy for him for a brief moment, but as quick as it came, her attention shifted.
Suddenly, a great cry erupted from the Bishop and many people cried out in shock at hearing it. The Bishop turned his head to look at Benjamin and Benjamin recoiled in horror as he saw Gaea looking out from behind those eyes. She possessed him and looking into those eyes was like looking into your own being and losing yourself completely. A sense of falling overcame him and with it fear. He was nothing to her. He was nothing on this earth. With a blink the eyes released him and Benjamin nearly collapsed in relief. Gaea turned to face the crowd.
In a thunderous voice that could be heard in all recesses of the castle, Gaea spoke to the crowd with the arms of the Bishop raised high. Later those who were asked said that they had heard the voice in all areas of the city – but those witnesses were not truly believed. All admitted to the power in the voice and the pain felt in the airs with each spoken syllable. Those in proximity fell to the ground and covered their ears against the volume. They recognised the authority and felt the truth of it down to their bones. Each word came singly and with a slight pause between them as if each word carried a great weight.
"I concede," Gaea said. "The Church surrenders to the Word. There is only Truth in the Word. Through the Word lies balance."
There was stunned silence following this proclamation. Then the room erupted. People started yelling and screaming. Fights broke out throughout the Church. Benjamin stared in shock at the still form of the Bishop and then without knowing why started to move toward him. On the other side of the podium, another figure ran toward the Bishop, his face twisted with anger.
The figure reached the Bishop first and Benjamin cried out. The Bishop turned to face the
threat just as the figure leaped to tackle him to the ground but when he struck him, he hit him like hitting a tree and he crumpled to the ground at the Bishop's feet, stunned senseless. Benjamin looked down and saw that tendrils of thick roots had grown up through the stonework and had wrapped themselves up and around the form of the Bishop. The figure at his feet groaned and clutched his forehead, blood pouring between his fingers.
Benjamin reached the Bishop and grasped his arm. He was solid as a tree. Gaea, Benjamin knew, still possessed the Bishop. She turned her face to him, sorrow etched in the features of the Bishop.
"You disappoint me, Freamhaigh," she said in the Bishop's voice and he shuddered. "You willingly disobeyed me. Beware. A great unbalancing will now occur and it must occur so that true balance can be achieved. The Tree has not achieved what it promised so long ago."
"Unbalance?" asked Benjamin in disbelief. "You caused this unbalance. The Tree has maintained the balance you demanded for centuries! What you have done will cause untold death across this land!"
"Careful," she hissed and her eyes lit with anger. "I know far more than you, and I can see the path that humans would follow and where that will lead. The balance was lost and harmony all but destroyed. That path has been followed before and I did nothing almost to my own end. I will not let that happen again. The Tree has failed and is broken."
"No!" cried Benjamin in horror. "You can't! We have done all that you have asked! We restore the balance as you will!"
Gaea gazed out to him with sadness. "Keep your daughter safe. She is the seed I would now see grow strong. The Cill Darae understands. Ask her," she replied and then she turned her face to stare down at the man still dazed at her feet. She reached down and a bright white light engulfed him. The man looked up with confused, blood filled eyes, blinked and fell unconscious. The light faded.
At that moment, someone fired a crossbow bolt, and it struck the Bishop's forehead and shattered. Gaea slowly turned her head to stare at the source of the intrusion and watched as a priest was wrestled to the ground by one of the audience. In a moment both were swallowed by the chaos in the room. She turned her attention back to Benjamin.
"You are dismissed, Freamhaigh," she said and then she was gone. The roots wrapped around the Bishop retreated back into the ground like serpents and the Bishop staggered and grabbed the podium. Benjamin steadied him.
The Bishop blinked repeatedly at Benjamin."Wh–wha," he stammered in confusion. "What happened?" He looked around the chamber and gasped at the mayhem happening all around him. He watched in horror as the King struck down a kneeling woman who screeched out for mercy before the King's sword lopped her head from her body.
Benjamin blinked and finally took in what was happening all around him. This can't be happening. Gaea and the Tree had worked together for centuries insuring the balance of nature was not disrupted by human interference. It was painful work, kept in secret from people, tasked to those few who could feel Gaea and make use of her strength and power.
How could the Tree be broken? It makes no sense. I have to speak to the Cill Darae as Gaea instructed. And at once. My daughter is a seed? What was that about? The lives of all the druids in the Realm are at risk and so many lives are ignorant to the true threat. I have to warn them.
The chaos was already spreading far beyond the Church. He watched as the King strode through the room, his guard in tow, striking at anyone who stood before him. Blood flew through the air like rain. An endless rain of red. People clawed at each other. Guards wrestled with men and women. It was madness. Anarchy. Everything Benjamin had feared.
Benjamin took one look at the Bishop, apologised and ran to find the Cill Darae. He needed answers. He had to fix this.
The image and words of God was still reeling in Seth Farlow's mind as he lay on the ground where the Bishop still stood crying out for Benjamin to return. God had just spoken to him in his mind and he repeated the words to himself so that he would never forget them.
I see you. You seek those who possess that which you do not understand so you may strike them down. These 'magycs'. You who profess to know your God's justice. So be it. The Tree is broken. Your justice will be my cleansing.
Seth was confused by the words. Surely God was telling him he approved? Of course he did. He understood God's justice. He enforced it daily with the Archbishop's blessings. He was God's instrument. The Archbishop had told him many times, and he did not doubt it. Now God had spoken to him and reaffirmed that knowledge. It was all he could ever hope it could be. And God had gifted him!
His contact with God in the library had awakened powers within him and Seth could feel it coursing through his body. He could sense all those around him as if he was physically touching them. They were all the same. Sheep in the field. God's will was clear. He would carry out God's justice with his power. He watched as around him the sheep scurried about and were slaughtered by the King and his guard. Yes, they were all sheep.
Except. Except that one. And he turned and watched the retreating figure of Benjamin as he ran from the Church. That one is different, he knew without knowing how. He possesses magyc. He requires justice.
Seth struggled to stand up but knew at once that his collarbone was shattered on his right side. He grimaced at it, then concentrated and reached for his powers and groaned in pleasure as the sharp bones moved inside his body and sent ripples of pain through him. He pushed the bones together, found the slivers and fused them back to the main and repaired the torn veins and blood paths in his shoulder. He closed the gash on his forehead with a mere thought. It took only a few moments.
He grinned, stood and took a deep breath. God's power was great. The Bishop looked at him in surprise.
"Sir, pray, tell me," he asked him. "What happened here? How is this happening?"
"God's justice," replied Seth and turned and walked confidently out of the Church.
Eighteen
Munsten, 879 A.C.
SEATED BEHIND HIS desk in his office, Archbishop Greigsen – now Archbishop for a mere two years – looked up in anticipation as his personal assistant and longtime friend, the young priest Ronald, pushed open the double doors and entered without permission. He was Greigsen's friend and lover, and he knew he would want to hear the news of the debate directly from him. As he drew a breath to ask for the results, he realised that the young man was flushed and tears streamed down his face. Then he heard some strange far off sounds that he couldn't quite understand.
"Your Eminence! Terrible news! Terrible!" The words repeated themselves over and over from his friend and then he collapsed at the foot of the desk on the area rug. The sounds of his sobbing echoed loudly in the large room.
Dismayed, the Archbishop rose quickly and rushed around the massive desk to comfort his friend. As much as he loved him, he knew he was terribly emotional, and he had to be handled with a firm hand or else you couldn't get a word out of him. He knew he had to act quickly or he would only get more emotional.
"Ronald! What ever is the matter? Calm down and stop crying! What news?" As he reached him he grasped him by the shoulders and roughly turned him in order to face him. The man's face was blotchy, and the Archbishop watched in disgust as tears and snot ran freely down the man's face. No matter the problem, he thought, you need to keep up appearances. This man is not fit for anything other than reading prayers in solitude. He shook the man in desperation to get him to stop sobbing and start answering his questions.
"Speak, Ronald! Speak! There's no time for this nonsense!" Outside the Archbishop could hear that the sounds, whatever they were, were getting louder and closer. He looked quickly at his open doors and thought briefly about rising to secure them. Ronald squealed a little then, and he turned his attention back to the priest.
Ronald was drawing in deep, shuddering breaths, and his eyes were wide and wild. The Archbishop heard a scream somewhere far down the corridors. The King can't be in danger or the bells would have sounded. What ever is happening? The debate? Su
rely not.
"Ronald! Speak! Answer me!"
"The unthinkable has happened and word is spreading like a sickness throughout the castle!" he sputtered, his voice rising quickly in volume and pitch. "It's too late to contain it. Too late to do anything! The King was there; he's gone mad! He'll come here! What will–"
Smack!
Ronald raised a trembling hand to his cheek where the Archbishop had just struck him. Then he quickly raised his other hand to ward off another slap. Reason seemed to return and Ronald's eyes focused in on the Archbishop.
"My Eminence, I beg forgiveness!" he stammered. "The news, it's all over the castle! The Bishop! He...he...admitted defeat to the heathen! The Bishop, he...he abandoned his Faith! In front of all to see! We all heard his voice! It was like God Himself spoke through him!"
The Archbishop collapsed onto his behind on the rug and released Ronald. His strength drained from him and without knowing, a small whine of fear escaped his lips. The roaring of blood in his ears drowned out whatever Ronald said next. His mind whirled in an attempt to understand what was happening and he started speaking out loud. "This is impossible! The Bishop could not have abandoned his Faith. It's unthinkable. Inconceivable! No, no, you're wrong. I selected Bishop Bengold myself after a long prayer session communing with God. He's our brightest academic in theology. Bengold suggested the Great Debate, didn't he?"
Outside in the corridor a large crash was heard with a scream – loud enough to be heard over the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears – and he stole a glance at his door. Whatever was happening outside was coming closer and distantly the Archbishop knew he should be paying attention instead of sitting on the floor of his office.
"This is Bengold's fault, not mine. Ronald? Right? He assured me that he could disprove the ludicrous concept of there being no God. We spent weeks preparing arguments and counter arguments. They were solid arguments! The Debate was a simple matter. A chance to finally throw down those heathen representatives of the Word! I prayed!"
Leaf and Branch (New Druids Series Vol 1 & 2) Page 29