Passing Through Darkness- The Complete Cycle

by Malcolm McKenzie

  “It has been argued,” the Metropolitan said more loudly, in a voice that suddenly filled the basilica, “that it is in our interest to move now to oppose Yoshana, while she can still be opposed. It has been argued that we are a church militant. That does not, however, mean we are a church military. It has been a thousand years since the Universal Church launched crusades into the wider world. I don’t propose to start today.”

  Some of the muttering died down.

  “It has conversely been argued that we must not permit the preaching, much less give encouragement, to a false prophet who claims to speak in the name of the Lord. Certainly there have been a multiplicity of self-appointed prophets since the Fall, but none save Saint Arvan and Saint Siles were found by the Church to be worthy of the name.”

  Again Prophetess stirred, and again the bearded priest restrained her with the slightest pressure.

  “I have also been reminded of the Gospel according to Mark.” The Metropolitan’s eyes shifted briefly to Dee. “Our Lord’s disciples told him of a man who cast out demons in the Lord’s name, but was not one of them. The disciples commanded the man to stop. But Jesus told them that no one who did God’s work in his name could be our enemy, and that those who are not against us are with us.”

  He looked back to Prophetess. I realized his eyes were the same bright gray as hers. “Of course, the gospel continues that any who lead the innocent into sin would better have a mill wheel tied around their necks and be thrown into the sea.”

  The Ice Fields were frozen over, but a hole could no doubt be cut if needed. I wondered if the Church kept mill wheels handy. Could we make it to the exit after all?

  “As I said, I am not prepared to reach a conclusion on this point. At this time, there is no need to do so. Your interests and ours coincide on the matter of Yoshana establishing herself in Stephensburg. You will be given mounts and provisions.” He paused. “And any who choose to accompany you may be excused from their duties to do so. It is in the Church’s interests to have witnesses in Stephensburg.”

  The rumbling increased into a babble of voices, which the Metropolitan permitted for a long moment before he held up his hand for silence. “Go with the blessings of God.”

  11. Face to Face

  The horses were proving to be a mixed blessing. We made somewhat better time, but I had not ridden for years, and never for an extended period. I was sore in muscles I didn’t know I had, and chafed in places best left unmentioned. Prophetess had laughed herself silly at me the first time I got down and lurched forward in a stiff, shuffling stumble. Until she got down herself. She was less of a horseman than I.

  Despite the Metropolitan’s grant of leave, our ranks had not swelled by much. Tolf, two more guardsmen, and a pair of postulants had joined our group. Loris had complained loudly, bitterly disappointed in the lack of an army. Prophetess had silenced him, saying the Church had been generous in what it had supplied us, and stating that the Lord had never said she would lead a great host - only that she must go herself. She counted every other hand joined with hers as a great blessing.

  Still, she was tense and withdrawn. I agreed that we had done well enough by the Metropolitan. Some scruffy horses, a supply of food, and five new companions was a lot better than being burned at the stake or thrown into the sea. But I wouldn’t have minded ten thousand spears ranked around us - and I sensed Prophetess wouldn’t either.

  “Force on force would never have worked,” Dee said. “I hardly think the Church is in a position to instantly place at our disposal an army large enough to face the world’s most dangerous Overlord and an army of veterans.”

  “No,” I agreed. “But if Yoshana’s planning to besiege Stephensburg, even a relatively small relief force hitting from behind could break the siege.” I shrugged.

  “Do you think she has a plan?” Dee asked, cocking his head toward Prophetess.

  “I think she’s winging it.” I paused. “And I think she’s scared.”

  Dee nodded, silent for once. That might have been the most frightening thing of all.

  Villages were strung all along the road southeast to Stephensburg, proof of its trade with Our Lady. The Church had provided us with letters of credit that meant we slept at inns rather than out in the weather. Despite the cold and the saddle sores, it was the most physically pleasant week of travel I could recall.

  But though my belly was well filled, the farther south we went the less comfortable I felt. We began to meet travelers heading north, a few at first, then a steady stream of wagons, mules, and families staggering under the weight of their possessions. Refugees.

  “Yoshana’s coming,” was the common refrain.

  “Why Stephensburg?” I asked Dee. “Isn’t Yoshana picking a fight with the Universal Church by coming here?”

  “That may be part of why she’s doing it. If she takes the Source, the Church can’t lead it against her. And I hardly think she’d be welcome in the capital of the Green Heart. What with having invaded it before her death and conversion.”

  “It’s symbolic,” said Prophetess, coming up next to us. “Saint Siles was driven out of Stephensburg. He’s the last canonical prophet of the Universal Church. Yoshana calls herself a prophet - she’s bringing the Word back to Siles’ home.”

  “Why was Siles kicked out in the first place?”

  “For being a pain in the neck.” She managed a weak smile. “It’s in the job description.”

  One evening as we plodded into the fenced yard of a large inn, a groom stared at us in disbelief.

  “You’re the only people I’ve seen heading south in three days.”

  Dee raised his eyebrows, surveying the shifting mass of horses, oxen and other beasts of burden that were churning the inn yard into mud. “It looks like all of Stephensburg is heading north.”

  The groom, no older than I, worked his mouth and spat. “Yoshana’s legions slipped past Stephen’s army. Folks are saying the troops he’s got left are fortifying the inner city. Say he’ll give up the Midwalls without a fight.”

  “That’s madness,” blurted Tolf. “Why would he trap himself like a rat in one square mile? If he’s got even a tenth her strength he should be able to hold the outer walls for weeks at least. Pull back if he needs to, sure, but why start that way?”

  “That’s what they say,” the lad replied truculently.

  Tolf shook his head and addressed Prophetess. “Three layers of defenses at Stephensburg. There’s a good stone wall around the whole city. A second around the administrative precinct. Everything between’s called the Midwalls - where most folks live. In the very center is Stephen’s Keep.”

  The soldier chewed his lower lip. “Stephen’s no warrior, but he wouldn’t just abandon the outer wall. No one would.” He waved his arm at the yard. “This lot’ll be the cowards that bolted before anyone even saw smoke from Yoshana’s cookfires on the horizon, spreading tales to justify their own gutlessness.”

  He nodded firmly - but it struck me he was mostly trying to convince himself.

  “Well, whatever’s may be, may be,” said the groom, “You can keep on south and find out. We’ve no more room here.”

  “Now see here,” Tolf protested, “We have letters of credit from Our Lady.”

  “You can have a letter from the Metropolitan his own self -”

  “As a matter of fact, we do.”

  The boy’s eyes widened. “Well, I’m sorry, but we really are out of room. As you can see.”

  He considered a bit. “Reckon you could shelter up against the side of the barn, and we could come up with something hot from the kitchen for you.”

  It was the worst night of the journey, and not just because of a snow flurry that the side of the barn did little to deflect. The stew the groom brought smelled good, but with the churning in my guts I waved it away. Only Tolf and Dee seemed to have much appetite.

  “Always worse the night before than the day of,” the soldier said cheerfully.

  “I
thought Our Lady hadn’t been attacked in your lifetime?” I asked.

  “Well, that’s what the old farts that lived through it say, and I’ll take ’em at their word. They must have done something right to survive. Anyway, who wants to die on an empty stomach?”

  Dee somehow put two bowls of stew into his gangly frame. But then, he would need energy to run away in the face of battle.

  Prophetess had gone around the barn to pray. The rest of the group was huddled miserably in their blankets, trying to get to sleep. I was still awake when she came back and sank down in the space Dee and I had left between us.

  I was bone weary, but I couldn’t keep my eyes closed. Thoughts chased through my head like fever dreams, each more disturbing than the one it pursued. Finally I said, “I don’t understand confession. It seems like the church says you’re always sinning, even if all you’ve done is think about something bad. So you always have to confess something. Seems like you’re supposed to be feeling guilty all the time. Wouldn’t it make more sense to have a more realistic set of rules?”

  “Are you perfect, Minos?” Prophetess said softly.

  “Obviously not.”

  “Confession reminds us of that. It brings you closer to God. Not a bad thing at a time like this.”

  I thought about that. “I don’t suppose it works if you’re not a Universalist.”

  Dee spoke up sleepily. “Doctrine states that the sacrament of reconciliation is only effective if you’re baptized.”

  “It also says that anyone can baptize,” Prophetess said. “Do you want to be baptized, Minos?”

  “Seems a little blasphemous to be baptized just because I’m afraid the antichrist is going to rip my skin off tomorrow.”

  After a moment, Dee mumbled, “It’s too bad we don’t have a fiddle. It’s traditional to settle a fight with the devil with a fiddle.”

  “Can you play a fiddle?”

  “No.”

  “Just as well,” Prophetess said. “There was a traveling minstrel who used to come around our farm. Had the worst voice ever, though. Then he spent everything he had getting himself the fanciest fiddle you ever saw. Called it a violin. It was even worse. Sounded like he was torturing a cat.”

  “Your point being?”

  “Violins never solve anything.”

  The next day dawned bright and clear. But I hadn’t slept well. Nor did the grim faces around me suggest the others had. I couldn’t recall my dreams, but I thought the fanged cloud had figured in them again.

  I suppose bold deeds always seem more attractive from a safe distance.

  The groom came out again with some porridge and apples for us. We ate a bit and mounted up. I got halfway through an apple over the first few miles, then gave up and tossed it into the weeds at the side of the road. My horse gave me a reproachful look. I mentally apologized to the beast and patted its neck. “All the apples you want if I live through this.”

  The animal tossed its head peevishly as if to say, “Sure, like that’s going to happen.”

  Woods and brush gave way to the stubble of well-tended fields, enclosed within neat fences. A prosperous land. The Source took its name from the abundance of its agriculture.

  The sun wasn’t yet at its zenith when we saw the wall of Stephensburg rising up before us. Not long after that we began to see tents pitched in the fields on either side of the road. Banners flew among them, white with a gold symbol I had never seen before. It looked like some sort of odd double-headed halberd, a crescent moon shape on each side of an elongated diamond.

  “My God, they’re ahead of us,” Tolf exclaimed.

  “Is that Yoshana’s standard?”

  “It’s not Stephen’s. Or anyone else’s I’ve seen. So who else?”

  “What do we do?” I asked Prophetess.

  “What can we do? Ride on.”

  “Are you insane?” I snapped. “Through the enemy’s army?”

  She set her jaw. “I must see Stephen. If the army’s in the way, we go through the army.”

  She crossed herself and kicked her mount forward. I sputtered words that never made it past my lips. Some were unprintable. Some were pleas to reason. Some were suggestions, like sneaking in under cover of darkness. Not a one found voice. I stopped talking to myself and followed.

  We came abreast of the camp, which swarmed with armed men. We were noticed but not stopped.

  “Not exactly alert,” I muttered.

  “We’re too small a group to be a factor either way,” Tolf replied.

  I debated where to be relieved or offended. Relief won easily. Of course, if we tried to run later, there was now an army between us and any possible safety. I had an idea how Pharaoh’s troops must have felt following the Israelites into the sea with destruction poised on either side, wondering when the safe passage would collapse on them.

  As we neared the wall, though, we could see the gates standing open. A river bounded the city’s western edge, and the bridge across was fortified at both ends. Troops with the white and gold standard held it, but there was no sign of siege equipment. Or any great degree of activity.

  Tolf cursed under his breath. “I didn’t believe it, but damn me to hell if they weren’t right. He gave up the outer wall without a fight.”

  At the foot of the bridge a soldier finally moved to block our path. He kept his spear at casual attention, however, and merely held up a hand. “Glory to God in the highest,” he proclaimed.

  Prophetess reined in her horse and replied, “Glory to God.”

  I pulled up next to Tolf and whispered, “Are you sure these are the enemy?”

  Tolf shrugged. Dee urged his mount around to the other side of mine and murmured, “Remember, Yoshana calls herself a prophet as well.” He nodded at the standard. “That symbol’s clever.”

  I raised my eyebrows, but he just repeated, “Clever.”

  “What brings you to Stephensburg?” the soldier was asking.

  Prophetess hesitated for a second, and my mouth ran ahead of me again. “We are emissaries from the Metropolitan at Our Lady, come to speak with Stephen.”

  Prophetess, Dee and Tolf all stared at me. The soldier dipped his head and cleared his throat. “I’m going to have to run this one up the tree,” he said. “If you’ll wait here?”

  He jogged away across the bridge, leaving his spear propped against a wall.

  I shrugged. “If Yoshana’s claiming to be a prophet of God, can she obstruct ambassadors from the largest church in the known world?”

  “My dear young friend, you really don’t know much about religion, do you?” Dee said. “One thing a prophet can’t stand is another prophet. If Yoshana’s created some sort of syncretic, pan-Abrahamic religion as I suspect she has, the last thing she’ll want is a representative of Universalist orthodoxy to question her.”

  I shrugged again. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d put my foot in my mouth. But there was always a first time for it to be fatal.

  My stomach was turning like a waterwheel by the time the soldier came back across the bridge. He was accompanied by only one other figure, but the way he hurried ahead, then periodically shot a nervous glance back over his shoulder, suggested he’d wound up going further up the chain of command than he’d expected.

  I blinked, then stared as the two came up to us. The second person was a woman. She was armored like the first soldier in studded leather, covered with a cloak that failed to conceal the curves of her figure. Her shoulders were broad, but there was nothing masculine about her. Her skin was a deep tan, her hair and eyes a brown so dark as to be almost black. Her features were beautiful, her form perfect. I could feel my face heat and was glad Select did not visibly blush. Her effect on me was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

  “You can shut your mouth now before your tongue falls out,” Prophetess hissed.

  I considered a response but decided I was better off shutting my mouth instead.

  “Come down, please,” the woman said. She w
as speaking to me. It didn’t occur to me to refuse.

  “Interesting. A Select as an emissary of the Universal Church?” Her voice was soft and pleasant. She stepped forward, only a pace away from me. Only as her hand started toward my face did I notice the black haze forming around her fingertips.

  I flinched back and my horse whinnied nervously.

  “Shh, shh,” she soothed. “I won’t hurt you.” Her eyes were locked on mine. Her hand came up slowly, fingertips softly brushing my temples. They lingered there for moments that seemed like a lifetime.

  “Hmm. True, or nearly enough. Well. Yoshana is meeting with Stephen this afternoon. I’m sure after that he’ll make himself available to the Universal Church.”

  “We’ll see him now, please,” Prophetess said, a slight tremor in her voice.

  “And you are?”

  “As my escort said, a representative of the Universal Church.” She eyed the dark woman through narrowed eyes. “And you won’t be touching me.”

  The other smiled. “Do you fear the Darkness?” She was still standing within arm’s reach of me. I didn’t feel a desire to step back.

  “Fear it? No. But its corruption will not touch me.”

  The dark woman gave a low chuckle. “The Darkness Radiant is not your enemy, whatever you may believe. But you’d be wise to respect it.” She laughed louder, amused at something in her own thoughts. “I think I’ll let Yoshana deal with you.”

  She turned to the soldier. “Escort them to the inner wall on my authority. It will be up to them to get past Stephen’s guards. Somehow I don’t think they’ll find that a challenge.” Turning back to us, she added, “You’ll leave your horses here. We’ll look after them for you.” She was still smiling, and she didn’t say assuming you survive, but I heard it anyway.

  She remained behind, moving away to converse with the encamped troops. Our new escort shook his head as we followed him, on foot, across the bridge.

  “You’re just lucky you’re Select,” he said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’re just lucky, is all.”