Thanos, looking around the table, saw the priests listening in awe. Here was another candidate for the office of Priest-General. For not every member of the Council favored Thanos. He had made his share of enemies over time. What man does not? He had assumed these priests would be putting forth another candidate, but he had not been much worried. He had the scroll that proclaimed him his father’s successor. Who could compete with that?
Apparently Raegar and a miracle.
Xydis and Thanos had often had a chuckle at Raegar’s expense. Xydis considered Raegar a loutish brute, useful for his connections with the shadowy underworld of Sinaria. A former slave desperate to be accepted in a society that would never accept him, Raegar would do anything for a word of praise and the vague hint that he might be destined for great things.
Thanos listened to the talk and outwardly smiled and inwardly gnashed his teeth. He was in an untenable position. He dared say nothing against Raegar or suggest that this talk of miracle-performing kraken was downright silly, lest he should appear to be petty, jealous, or, worse, apostate. Thanos had to loudly praise Aelon for Raegar’s safe return all the while heartily wishing the man were at the bottom of the ocean.
When the meeting ended Thanos did not stay to hear more about Raegar. He returned to the office of the Priest-General to continue going through his father’s things. His enemies questioned that Thanos should be left there on his own. His friends, among them the powerful High Priest, Atemis, said that as Xydis’s son and the probable next Priest-General, Thanos had every right to be there.
Unfortunately, Thanos had not found what he sought-the secret to opening the door to the treasure vault. He had read through most of the secret documents he had discovered in the cubbyhole beneath the desk and although he had learned a great deal that was highly informative, particularly regarding just how much wealth the church had amassed behind that bronze door, he had no idea how to obtain it. He remained hopeful, however, and continued reading.
* * *
By the time Raegar arrived at the Shrine, the political winds were blowing up a gale. He dismissed his escort, sending them off with Captain Anker to the makeshift barracks, their own having burned down. He kept Treia by his side and both of them knew the moment they entered the Shrine that they were walking into a storm. He was welcomed with rapturous gusts by some, who crowded around him, eager to shake his hand; a few of the more fulsome actually asked for his blessing. They talked openly of presenting him as a candidate for the office of Priest-General. Raegar was basking in the warmth of this breeze, when he was struck by a chill blast. High Priest Atemis came (slowly) to greet Raegar. The high priest said he had thanked Aelon for Raegar’s safe return, adding that Raegar would of course want to wait upon Thanos, who was in the office of the Priest-General, to pay his respects to the man whom Xydis had named as his successor.
Treia flashed Raegar a warning glance and squeezed his hand. He had no need of her silent counsel. He had been expecting that Thanos would challenge him for the office. Thanos had probably never imagined that Raegar would be challenging him.
Raegar had known Thanos for a long time. In fact, Raegar knew more about Thanos than Thanos suspected. Raegar’s friends in the underworld kept him well-informed. Thanos paid his whore enough to buy her secrecy. He never thought of paying off the man who “protected” her or her children, who would regularly report on “Mama’s visitors.” Raegar could have used his knowledge to discredit Thanos to the priesthood, but he feared that if he did, his own dealings with Sinaria’s criminal element would come out.
By ordering Raegar to come to him, Thanos was making a bold move. If Raegar acted upon Thanos’s orders, Raegar would be conceding that Thanos had a right to give orders.
Raegar was covered with the dirt and sweat and blood from his labors among the people. His face was drawn with fatigue and yet he spoke with an air of quiet dignity that impressed even the High Priest.
“I have been working to free survivors who were trapped in the rubble,” Raegar said. “I am exhausted from this and from my venture out to sea. I would not presume to greet Warrior-Priest Thanos before I have washed and changed and rested. I will be in my quarters. If Thanos has need of me, he can wait upon me there.”
Raegar gave a respectful bow and then left, in company with Treia, who held her head high. The High Priest listened to the talk among the other priests regarding Raegar. Their opinion of him was unanimously favorable. The High Priest carried Raegar’s response to Thanos, curious to see how he would react to Raegar’s refusal.
Thanos shrugged. He would have been surprised if Raegar had come to him. Thanos handed over the scroll naming himself as successor.
“I found it quite by chance,” he said.
Atemis did not read it, but stood tapping it thoughtfully on the desk.
“What’s the matter?” Thanos asked.
“I believe Raegar has a good chance of becoming Priest-General.”
Thanos sniffed and wiped his nose. “Raegar is a valiant warrior. I believe his people are known for their savagery in battle. But he has an inflated idea of his own importance if he considers himself worthy of being Priest-General. Such ambition in a former slave would be laughable were it not so sad.”
“That may be true,” said Atemis. “But many on the Council are impressed by him. The people who are now gathered in the streets outside the Shrine grounds are no longer here to attack us, but to cheer Raegar. He has restored their faith.”
“What do you suggest I do to counter this?” Thanos asked, preoccupied with his search.
“If you could perform a miracle, in full view of the Council-”
“And do what?” Thanos asked. “Summon squid? Lift a house?”
Atemis frowned. “You need to take this seriously.”
“Very well.” Thanos sighed. “What do you suggest?”
“The priests are wondering why you have not yet prayed to Aelon to unseal the door to the treasure vault,” said the High Priest.
Thanos was tired. His head hurt. His throat was sore. He lost patience.
“Given the fact that gangs have threatened to attack us, hasn’t it occurred to those fools that Aelon might be smart to keep the damn door shut?”
Atemis gave Thanos a shrewd look. “Aelon should not wait too long.”
Thanos muttered something and went back to his search. He drew out the last scroll, glanced over it, saw that it was nothing but a ritual prayer to Aelon asking his blessing on the newly anointed Priest-General. Thanos was about to toss it aside when something odd in the prayer caught his attention. He started from the beginning, read it more closely.
“Simple, yet elegant. Aelon, if I believed in you, I’d get down on my knees in thanks,” Thanos remarked.
* * *
Treia was afraid she was losing Raegar. She tried talking to him about Thanos, but he said curtly he was too tired to discuss the matter with her. She wanted to share his bed, but he said that would be unseemly. She brought up their wedding, asking him to set a date. He said he had too much to think about.
He told her go to her own rest in the small cell where she lived with the other priestesses of Aelon. When she left, he would not even kiss her. Raegar had changed. He did shine with a god’s light. He was confident, strong, and she needed a way to strengthen her hold on him.
She went to her cell, but not to sleep. She dressed in the plain robes of a novice priestess of Aelon, drew her cowl over her head so that she would not be noticed, and went back to the Shrine where priests and priestesses had gathered to talk about the choice for the new Priest-General. Treia glided silently from group to group, listening to what was being said.
For the first time, Treia heard about the sealed bronze door and the death of Kleitos. Many were wondering openly why Thanos had not asked Aelon to open it. Treia listened, intrigued. An idea formed in her mind. She left word with the porter at the monastery where the unmarried Warrior-Priests had their quarters that she needed to speak with Raegar. He woul
d find her in the garden near the Fane of the Spirit Priests.
Surrounded by fir trees, the garden was secluded and quiet. No one was around. The Fane of the Spirit Priests had been abandoned, the priestesses fleeing first the threat of ogres and then the threat of mobs. Treia sat on a wall of lichen-covered gray stone. The air was hot and humid. In her own land, summer would be ending. The days would be warm, but there would be a touch of coming winter in the chill air of night.
Treia had always hated winter. Raegar had assured her winter never came to Sinaria, never brought frostbite, starvation, howling bitter winds, killing snow.
Treia had no desire to ever go back to Vindraholm. She liked Sinaria, its heat, its abundance, its wealth. She didn’t much like the people of Sinaria, but then Treia didn’t much like anyone.
Treia’s opinion of the gods was peculiarly her own. Raegar believed in Aelon with all his heart and soul. He viewed Aelon with awe and reverence, knowing him to be an immortal being who came to this world to bring the light of his glory to those walking in darkness. If Aelon’s bright light blinded some and scorched others, that was due to their imperfections, not the god’s.
Treia viewed all gods as immortal hucksters peddling their wares to gullible humanity. She drove a hard bargain for her faith. She was not about to give any god something for nothing. Sometimes, as she had with Hevis, Treia made a bad deal and learned not to make that mistake again. She liked the god Aelon, seeing him as a god with a practical turn of mind, ambitious, clever, cunning. She could work with a god like that.
Time passed. The sun was sinking and Raegar had not come. Treia wondered with a pang if he was going to ignore her summons … and she was filled with relief and gratitude when she saw him striding up the path. Raegar was wearing the robes of a Warrior-Priest. He was much refreshed and thinking more clearly following a good meal and a long sleep. He greeted Treia with a kiss, then, looking about and seeing they were alone, started to draw her into the bushes.
Treia stopped him. “We need to talk, my love. How is the successor to the Priest-General chosen?”
“If Xydis had lived, he would have named his successor on his deathbed. If the Priest-General dies before he can name his successor, the matter goes to the Council of Priests.”
“There is talk that Xydis left a letter stating that he chose Thanos. It was found among his things in his office.”
Raegar grunted. “Not surprising.”
“Does Aelon have a say in the selection of the Priest-General?” Treia asked.
“Of course.” Raegar looked shocked that she could even ask the question. “The Council prays to the god to guide the decision.”
Treia clasped hold of Raegar’s hand. “Then it is clear, my love. The god has already chosen. Aelon wants you to be Priest-General.”
“Thanos would disagree,” said Raegar dryly.
“I spent the afternoon in the Shrine, listening to the talk,” said Treia. “The priests are impressed. You took charge in a time of crisis. You set out to sea to drive away the foe. You called down the wrath of Aelon upon your enemies. You came back a hero and yet you were not too proud to help those in need.”
Raegar was pleased. “They are saying that of me?”
“That and much more,” Treia assured him.
“And what do they say of Thanos?”
Treia shrugged. “That he is the son of Xydis.”
Raegar laughed and kissed her on the neck.
“Time for love-making later,” Treia said, wriggling away from him. “I found out something else, something of importance. You need to listen and decide what to do.
“The great door to the treasure vault remains sealed. The priests have prayed to Aelon to grant them the power to open it, but the door remains shut. One man died, they say, trying to force it open. Aelon struck him down.”
“Only the Priest-General is given the power to unseal the door,” said Raegar. “He prays to Aelon, who opens the door with his hand.”
“That’s just it, my love,” Treia said softly. “If Aelon wanted Thanos to be Priest-General, Thanos would be counting jewels in the treasure vault now, instead of reading letters in his father’s office. They say that High Priest Atemis himself has asked Thanos to pray to Aelon to open the door and Thanos refuses.”
“With good reason,” said Raegar sternly. “He is not Priest-General.”
“You are too trusting,” said Treia with a fond smile. “The door is trapped. Thanos is searching through his father’s papers for the secret to the mechanism that will safely open it. Once Thanos has found it, then he will pray.”
Raegar was displeased. “A mechanism! You speak sacrilege. The door opens at Aelon’s command.”
“I know that, my love,” Treia said soothingly. “You and I have faith in the god. But others are skeptical. Rumor has it that this Kleitos died trying to open the door. From what I hear, he was not praying when he made the attempt.”
“You think I should pray to Aelon to open the vault door. But I am not Priest-General. Aelon struck down Kleitos because the god was angered by his disobedience.”
Treia sighed inwardly. Raegar was such a child sometimes. He would not disobey the god’s command. She was certain there was some sort of mechanism. She did not believe the god truly raised and lowered the door. Whatever the truth, the question remained: how was the door to be opened if no one knew the secret? After all, the wyrds of gods and men are intertwined and it was men who built that door.
“When a new Priest-General is named, does he undergo some sort of ritual?” Treia asked.
“In the Mount of the Revelation is the holy cavern where the god appeared to the Sacred One who first brought the light of Aelon into our midst. The new Priest-General must undertake a journey to this cavern and offer himself to the god.”
“That has to be the answer,” Treia murmured. “That is where the god reveals the secret. Only the Priest-General is allowed inside the cavern?”
“The candidate must pass tests set by the god to prove himself worthy. He must enter alone. No one else is permitted to accompany him.”
Treia twined her fingers around his and said softly, “Thanos will come to the Council armed with his father’s blessing. You must come armed with Aelon’s. You must be the one to take that journey.”
“How do I prove to the Council that I have the blessing of the god?”
“With the help of your wife,” said Treia coyly. “And my bride gift-the spiritbone of the Dragon Fala.”
When she had finished explaining her plan, Raegar said, “I want to be Priest-General, but I don’t want to gain the office by trickery-”
“You know as well as I do, my love, that Thanos is using tricks of his own,” Treia said, annoyed.
“His wrong does not make me right,” said Raegar sententiously. He drew his hand away and rose to his feet. “Besides, the Dragon Fala is angry. She will not come.”
“She will come if Aelon commands her to come,” said Treia.
Raegar paused to look down at her.
“What do you mean?”
Treia pursued her advantage. “The Dragon Fala pledged her assistance to Aelon because she believes in the god and wants to serve him. Right?”
“That is true,” said Raegar.
“If Fala comes when she is summoned, she will do so because Aelon commands her. Because Aelon wants you to be Priest-General. This is not a trick. This will be your test to see if the god has faith in you.”
Raegar mulled this over. Treia did not give him much time to think.
“We must act immediately, my love,” she urged. “Thanos is even now working to build up support among the Council.”
“And what if the Dragon Fala does not appear?” Raegar asked. “I will look a fool in front of the people and the Council.”
Treia rested her hands on his chest and looked into his eyes. “You say you have faith in Aelon, my love. Either you do … or you don’t.”
Raegar and Treia were married that
night in a simple private ceremony conducted by Atemis, the High Priest of the Council. Raegar was resplendent in his armor. The bride was dressed in the modest robes of a novice. Her only adornment was a necklace made of silver and amethyst and bone.
“A bride gift from my husband,” said Treia. She added demurely, “And from Aelon.”
CHAPTER 16
Treia lay in her bridal bed, waiting tensely until she was certain Raegar was either asleep or passed out-he had celebrated by consuming a great deal of wine. They had consummated the marriage, and while she waited she passed the time hoping that they had conceived a child. She needed yet another link in the chain she had wound around Raegar. A son would be the strongest yet.
She wanted a baby. A son to nurture, to raise. A son who would love her and only her.
Treia poked Raegar. He gave a drunken grumble, but did not move. He was always a heavy sleeper, even without the wine to dull his senses. Treia slid from the bed, padded softly across the room. Wrapping herself in a robe against the night’s chill, she sat down at the small table in one of the two chairs in their small dwelling.
Now that she and Raegar were married, they had been permitted to move into quarters for married couples: two bare, cold, cell-like rooms.
“Never mind,” said Treia, lighting a candle. “We won’t be here long. We will be moving into the grand palace belonging to the Priest-General.”
Her wedding gift, the necklace holding the spiritbone of the Dragon Fala, rested on the table. The setting was crude and unlovely, for it had been done in haste. After receiving the spiritbone, Raegar had taken the bone to one of the local jewelry makers with orders that it be made into a pendant. He could not afford gold or silver and so the jeweler had used bronze. A misshapen dragon with a lumpy tail held the spiritbone in four claws. High Priest Atemis had frowned at it during the ceremony and was overheard to make a remark about “savages and their strange customs.”
Treia snuggled into the warm robe and picked up the spiritbone and lovingly caressed it. Ugly though it might be, the spiritbone was hers. The Dragon Fala was hers.
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