Transcendence

by Transcendence [lit]

  „God-Voice?“ came a simple question, and he looked up to see Mado Wadon and several others, including Yatol De Hamman, staring down at him incredulously.

  „It may explode again,“ he said unconvincingly.

  „Yes, God-Voice,“ said Mado Wadon. „Go with the soldiers now. You are wounded, and we must ensure that Chom Deiru is now secure.“

  Yakim Douan nodded repeatedly, trying to sort through it all, trying to find some line of deception that he might follow to minimize the risk. And of course, he had to discern a way he could gather another soul stone. Olin would help him. Yes, and he could keep it secret through the next couple of years until things settled, until he had reestablished himself enough to chance Transcendence once more.

  Of course, none of this would make any difference at all in forty or fifty years, when all the witnesses would be dead and buried, and Merwan Ma’s name would be long forgotten!

  That fool Merwan Ma!

  Soon after, the God-Voice of Behren was resting comfortably in a bed in Chom Deiru, guards securing his door. His wounds were not nearly as seri­ous as feared, only minor cuts and bruises, and the first Yatols who had come in to see him had expressed great regret that such evil conspirators as Merwan Ma and the Jhesta Tu had ever gotten into the palace.

  „Where is the Jhesta Tu?“ Douan asked Mado Wadon.

  „He is dead, God-Voice,“ the Yatol replied. „As you commanded, though it would have given us all great pleasure to see him burned publicly before the palace.“

  „Too dangerous,“ Douan said.

  „Of course, God-Voice,“ Mado Wadon replied with a bow. „Rest now. The first reports of the battle at Dharyan are coming in.“

  „The Dragon has fallen?“ Douan asked, coming forward excitedly.

  „Not yet, God-Voice,“ the Yatol replied. „But soon. She has nowhere left to run.“

  Yakim Douan rested back, comfortable in those thoughts.

  For the third time, they attacked, and for the third time, they were repelled.

  „You cannot continue to throw our warriors against the walls,“ an angry Chezhou-Lei Shauntil dared to say to fuming Yatol Bardoh after that third retreat.

  „Dharyan should have fallen long ago!“ the Yatol declared.

  „Agreed, but the city is fortified by the fires of a great dragon,“ Shauntil reminded. „And we must never underestimate the strength of this woman. She is possessed of demons, my warriors say, and every breach is met with her fiery sword.“

  Yatol Bardoh clenched his fist and slammed it down on the small table before him, knocking it to the floor. „I will have the city!“ He looked up at Shauntil. „You deliver Dharyan to me, and soon!“

  „If we continue to attack, and continue to be chased away, leaving hundreds dead behind us, you will find your ranks thinning by more than the dead, Yatol,“ the Chezhou-Lei honestly reported.

  „Are we to abandon Dharyan?“ came the incredulous response.

  „We can resupply. With her dragon downed - and it is downed, by all reports - she cannot.“

  Yatol Bardoh’s expression went from anger to curiosity. „What are you saying?“

  „Besiege her,“ said Shauntil. „She cannot hope to break out. Without the walls and fortifications, her army would be crushed in short order. Besiege her. Let the Ru eat their horses!“

  Yatol Bardoh gave a perfectly awful chuckle. „They would not like that.“

  „Besiege her, that is my advice,“ Shauntil said again. „Demand her un­conditional surrender, then hang the witch and her commanders, destroy the dragon, and send the rest back to the steppes.“

  Yatol Bardoh looked at the man doubtfully. „Or we say that is the condi­tion of the acceptance of surrender,“ the scheming man remarked. „And then, when she is dead and the dragon is destroyed, we put the remaining Ru on the road to the west. And there we kill them, every one.“

  Shauntil, an honorable warrior, didn’t particularly like that plan, but nei­ther did he question it. „I will see that the defenses are set to ward against any breakout,“ he assured his master. „I will have the catapults rebuilt, that our bombardment may begin anew.“

  „Every bit of their misery pleases me greatly,“ was the Yatol’s response.

  A lone rider approached Dharyan’s eastern gate soon after, declaring the city besieged, and calling for the unconditional surrender of the Dragon of To-gai.

  Every To-gai-ru near to Brynn when she heard that call spat profanities back at the man, patting their brave lead^on the shoulder and assuring her that they would die to the man and woman before they would ever allow her to surrender.

  Brynn appreciated the support, truly, but she understood the reality of their grim situation. She looked around, wondering how long that support would hold, wondering how strong would be the determination when bel­lies began to growl with hunger.

  Yatol Peridan, wearing a suspicious expression, met Yatol Mado Wadon coming out of the dungeon stairwell.

  „You told the Chezru Chieftain that the Jhesta Tu was dead,“ said Peridan.

  „And so he is.“

  „You just came from him. What deception…“

  „You did not find his claims intriguing?“

  Peridan stopped as if slapped, and nodded his concession. „The Chezru Chieftain explains it as a ruse, a clever one at that.“

  „My uncle was a Yatol, here in Jacintha, many years ago,“ said Mado Wadon. „Often did he tell me of the miracle of Transcendence, of the amaz­ing blessed child who could recite so clearly the verses of Yatol’s teachings who seemed to know, so instinctively, the present state of the kingdom.“ He fixed Peridan with a telling stare. „As if with the wisdom of the ages.“

  Peridan sank back.

  „More Yatols have come in?“ Mado Wadon asked.

  „As you requested,“ said Peridan.

  The Yatol of Chom Deiru nodded.

  Later the next day, Mado Wadon met with the visiting Yatols, laying bare his suspicions and reminding them that none of this made any sense along any other lines of reasoning, especially with the cries of Merwan Ma. The man had been appointed governor of Dharyan, after all, and had been sub­sequently reported murdered by a To-gai-ru slave. With so much glory and honor lauded upon him, how or why would he ever go over to an obviously losing side?

  Mado Wadon had spoken with Pagonel that morning, had heard the story, one that made much more logical sense, in depth.

  After the brief meeting, Mado Wadon led all of those visiting Yatols, twenty-three in number, into the bedchamber where Yakim Douan was fast recovering.

  „The Dragon?“ Douan asked immediately.

  „Yatol Bardoh continues his battle,“ Yatol De Hamman replied from the side.

  „I have brought the chalice, God-Voice,“ Mado Wadon explained. „The interruption of ceremony is unprecedented, but we believe that all can be put in order.“

  „That is good,“ said Douan. „Thoroughly cleanse the chalice, that the stains of the Abellican gemstone placed within by the treacherous Merwan Ma be washed away.“

  „Of course, God-Voice. It has already been done.“

  „Consult the scholars, then, and determine the proper rituals for renew­ing the once-tainted chalice.“

  „Yes, God-Voice,“ said Mado Wadon, perfectly calm and in control. „But that is why we have come to you.“

  Yakim Douan looked at him curiously.

  „Were you not the one who initiated the ceremony of the chalice in the Room of Forever?“

  Yakim Douan returned a puzzled look, but one that fast turned grave. „What foolishness is this?“ he asked, catching on. „The ceremony was deter­mined centuries ago…“ He stopped then, his eyes going wide as Mado Wadon produced the other part of the ritual gear, a sharp, ceremonial knife.

  „What foolishness is this?“ the God-Voice asked again, though he knew from the Yatol’s face what treachery was coming.

  „Wait! Wait!“ he pleaded. „This is insanity! I have found the tru
e way of Yatol! I can show you eternal life!“

  „Through a gemstone?“ Mado Wadon asked, pausing.

  „Yes!“

  Mado Wadon stepped forward and plunged the knife into Yakim Douan’s chest, then stepped back and calmly handed it to the next Yatol in line. And so it went, around the gathering, until all twenty-three had taken their stab at the old wretch.

  Yakim Douan lay there for a long time, stubbornly clinging to life.

  „There is no gemstone, God-Voice. Nothing through which your spirit can flee this fate,“ Mado Wadon said to him, leaning in so that his face might be the last thing Yakim Douan ever saw.

  „Sacrilege,“ Douan whispered.

  „Perhaps it is,“ Mado Wadon answered. „We will await the coming of the blessed child to tell us of our folly.“

  Yakim Douan tried to answer, but he could not. Consciousness left him soon after, as his blood continued to pool about him.

  The Yatols filed out solemnly later on, with Mado Wadon ordering the guards to go and ring the bells of Chom Deiru, the Cadence of Grief.

  EPILOGUE

  I have assumed control of Jacintha, as is commanded by the tenets of Yatol,“ Mado Wadon told several of the more impor-J±- tant Yatols later on that fateful day.

  „But you are not Chezru Chieftain!“ Yatol Peridan insisted. Peridan had been viewing all of this with mixed feelings. He had agreed with Mado Wadon’s argument that Douan had to die, in light of the revelations, but the practical implications of that action did not shine favorably on him. Mado Wadon was a friend of De Hamman.

  „I am not, nor do I pretend to be,“ Mado Wadon calmly replied. „We are

  each brothers in the greater cause of Yatol, with our own areas of responsi­

  bility. Mine is now Jacintha.“ ^

  He didn’t say it, but it was well understood that the control of Jacintha meant control of the legions, greater power than any three other Yatols combined could muster.

  But that was indeed the tenet of Yatol.

  The meeting broke up sometime later, after many speeches of solidarity and common cause to rebuild. Underneath all the words, though, loomed an unmistakable aura of suspicion and trepidation. Under the Chezru Chieftain, the Yatols united the kingdom of Behren, but that religious grasp over the peoples of the many tribes had always been a tenuous thing.

  Yatol De Hamman caught up to Mado Wadon alone a short while later.

  „Peridan will move swiftly against me,“ the man insisted. „With the Jacintha garrison tied up at Dharyan, he will know that the moment is now, or is never.“

  „I have already warned Yatol Peridan that the time has come for caution.“

  „He will not heed your words,“ Yatol De Hamman insisted. „Chezru Douan pulled many of my soldiers from me to send off along the road to the west. Peridan knows that I am undermanned, and he will seize this moment!“

  Mado Wadon sighed deeply, finding it hard to disagree. He knew that the weeks ahead were going to be quite difficult for Behren, and he honestly expected that the next Chezru Chieftain, when one could be found and brought to maturity, would likely have to rebuild many parts of the dis­jointed kingdom.

  That was even if another Chezru Chieftain would be found, for any child now selected, given the believed deception of Yakim Douan, would face a brutal inquiry period. And if that child uttered nothing miraculous - truly miraculous! - he would be rejected and the kingdom would be thrown into even more disarray. On one level, Mado Wadon regretted the decision to kill Douan. Perhaps they should have allowed him to go on with his prac­tice of stealing the bodies of unborn children to use as his own.

  Would Behren survive?

  Would the Chezru religion survive?

  And should it? Mado Wadon had to ponder.

  „Yatol Peridan is the least of your troubles,“ an increasingly frustrated De Hamman stated suddenly, drawing Mado Wadon from his disturbing thoughts. „Your eyes should focus upon Yatol Bardoh and the legions he commands.“

  „The Jacintha legions are mine,“ Mado Wadon said.

  „Bardoh commands them. It is no secret that he has used Chezru Douan’s inalr’Uty to capture the Dragon of To-gai to foster his own ends. How much more powerful will he become once Dharyan is recaptured and the rebels are all dead.“

  Mado Wadon winced at the thought.

  He went back to the lower levels of Chom Deiru almost immediately, down the cold and wet steps to the dungeons and to the filthy, barred hole in the wall where Pagonel of the Jhesta Tu had been placed.

  „We must speak,“ he said to the man.

  Pagonel, dirty and unshaven, his wounds thick with infection, looked at the man curiously, blinking his eyes repeatedly against the sudden intrusion of light.

  „Tell me of the Dragon of To-gai,“ Mado Wadon bade him. „What does she desire? „

  Pagonel continued to stare at him.

  „Time is short,“ Mado Wadon said. „Save yourself.“

  „I will not betray my friend.“

  „Betray?“ the Yatol echoed incredulously. „I offer you the chance to save her.“ Mado Wadon leaned in closer, his face barely inches from Pagonel’s. „I offer you the chance to realize her dreams.“

  „You will pardon my skepticism.“

  Mado Wadon nodded, expecting as much.

  He did notice that Pagonel’s mood had brightened considerably the next day when they sat together on the wagon in the midst of a great caravan rolling down the western road out of Jacintha.

  „They will not eat the horses,“ Tanalk Grenk said to Brynn. „Nor will they stay in here to starve.“

  „They want us to try to break out,“ she replied, looking down at the be­sieging army, as she had for more than a week.

  „We have a few days more of food, even if we starve the prisoners.“

  „Which we shall not do!“

  Tanalk Grenk’s expression grew intense for a moment, but he relaxed and nodded. „I would rather die with a sword in my hand,“ he said. „And not with that hand limp from starvation.“

  Brynn looked hard at him, and at those others standing along the wall listening in to the conversation. Gradually, she began to nod. „As would I „ she said. „As shall I!“

  A cheer went up about her.

  „Let us consider our options more carefully,“ she said to Grenk. „Per­haps we can make a ruse of a breakout, luring our enemies in to us one more time.“

  The man’s expression was doubting, and when she thought about it, Brynn could not disagree. „Or if not, then let us ride out in full force and kill as many as we may before our end.“

  „I will begin formulating the plans,“ the fierce To-gai-ru warrior offered, and Brynn nodded.

  It wasn’t the end she had hoped for, but it would have to do.

  The next morning, the To-gai-ru leaders met and argued over the plans, with some thinking it would be best to charge east, instead of the expected burst to the west. „If we are not going to break through anyway, then better to gain even more surprise,“ one argued.

  The banter settled much, and Tanalk Grenk and Brynn broke away to draw up the final plans. They were nearly finished, when a call from the wall roused them.

  „A lone emissary!“ came the cry.

  „No doubt to reiterate their call for surrender,“ Tanalk Grenk reasoned as the pair made their way to the parapets. „We should send his head back without his body.“

  His words were lost in his throat as he gained the wall and looked out. No response was forthcoming from Brynn, either, for both recognized the lone figure walking toward them, his gait the practiced and balanced walk of a Jhesta Tu mystic.

  Brynn fell into Pagonel’s arms as he came through the gate, burying her face in his strong chest.

  „Yakim Douan is dead,“ Pagonel said to her, to all of the warriors gather­ing about. „The new leading Yatols wish to discuss the terms of peace.“

  „We have already dismissed their calls for surrender!“ Tanalk Grenk said ang
rily. „We will die as warriors before surrendering the freedom of To-gai!“

  That brought a cheer, of course, but Pagonel held calm. „I said peace, not surrender,“ the mystic replied.

  The expressions were doubtful, even Brynn’s.

  „Their kingdom is in disarray,“ the mystic explained. „They cannot hope to continue a unified struggle to hold To-gai.“

  „But this is the hour of their victory,“ reasoned Brynn.

  „A victory that many of them fear more than defeat,“ Pagonel replied. „Come with me, Brynn, and you, Tanalk Grenk, to the tents of our enemies.“

  Brynn wore a puzzled expression, but Tanalk Grenk’s was one of open suspicion.

  „This is no ruse,“ said Pagonel. „For they need none to finish this battle. We have caught ourselves in the middle of their political games, and they would all prefer that we leave.“

  „Those are my terms,“ Brynn said coldly, after three days of arguing with Mado Wadon and the others at the Behrenese encampment encircling Dharyan

  „Preposterous!“ said Yatol Bardoh, Brynn’s greatest enemy at these discus­sions, and the Yatol who least desired peace. Pagonel had explained it all to her, and so she understood that Bardoh wanted this fight to strengthen his own position in the ftermath.

  Brynn moved out from the table, to the back of the tent, and motioned for Yatol Bardoh to join her.

  „I know you,“ she whispered.

  The man looked at her curiously.

  „I watched you murder my parents, a decade and more ago.“

  Bardoh glared at her wickedly.

  „Know that if this battle ensues, the Behrenese will likely win,“ Brynn as­sured him. „But my dragon has healed, and with his help, I will find my own victory among the ruins, for I will avenge my parents. Of that, do not doubt.“

  The man blanched, and Brynn patted him on the shoulder and returned to her seat at the table.

  It amazed her how much more responsive Yatol Bardoh became after that little private conversation.

  But still, when Brynn and Pagonel returned to Dharyan that night, noth­ing had been settled, and now the food was beginning to run thin.