Chapter Six
A force was moving in Hybron. He could feel it like a slow burn in his bones and nerves. Normally it was just the pain of rheumy joints but lately it was something else. The controversies at the temple between Ilim and “the rest of them” had finally come to a head but other schemes were being hatched all around him. Eliaz was an old scribe, respected but no longer privy to the most important matters at the temple. Or rather, schemes. However, this did not mean that he did not hear things. He heard much and pretended otherwise. He'd heard it from Ilim before many other priests that the king was taking a new queen. This was distressing but what could one expect for a woman who could not bear children? Worse yet, the king was going down to Egi, of all places, to bring up this new woman. There was the old saying: “Out of Egi comes grain and grief!” What good ever came from Egi? he thought in dismay. There would be extravagant pomp and celebration at her arrival according to Bakku. It would only be a matter of time before this was on the lips of everyone in the city and all around the land. He knew Bakku was behind this. He and the high priest's other minions were all up to something. He could feel it. After the execution of the Kushigyar they were no longer allowed to create any law concerning a tax or a tribute unless it was first approved by the king. A few taxes were even lifted from the peoples, specifically the birth tax and the tax of the guilds which enraged the priesthood. But the king had imposed a law: that any religious institution could only collect tithes for strictly religious reasons and they could not share in the monies for the taxes of government. Of course, as far as the priests were concerned, this would not do, but they could not openly defy the king. So plans hatched in secret meetings and in the middle of the night. The new temple tax, for instance, had arisen from these meetings.
Bakku had just left the city, the king following a few days later with a great retinue to fetch the new woman. Meanwhile, the priesthood was looking for ways to curry favor with this new queen and looked to Bakku for a way in.
“Bakku the snake!” He spat. He wished more and more these days for the village of his childhood, Uzimor, among the fragrant cedar and poplar forests of the southwest. Of olive groves in the village, even more ancient than he was. A simple, unsullied life. He sighed wistfully. Meanwhile, he had duties to perform besides writing letters, copying old books and keeping track of genealogies. Of the Aishanna-La that remained in Jhis, they needed care and attention. Many were poor. Some had some means, being craftsmen or merchants and some were wealthy. But the working poor were in a desperate plight and the holy days of First Festival were approaching.
There were also the rumors; growing undercurrents that looked to become an overwhelming tide among the people. It was the rumor of the rise of a new king. It was whispered and looked for but no one had truly seen any sign as far as he knew. Some claimed to have seen signs and wonders in the desert here and there, mostly overly excited folk or false seers. False seers! May their eyes grow black and rot inside their heads! Even the heathens among them looked for this sign when they heard it but it was mostly batted about in the homes and the inns of the Aishanna-La. Eliaz himself hoped and looked, at times. It had been five ages since the Destruction. How he wanted to see the temple and the faith restored to righteousness and justice again but he was too old to spearhead any reclamation and most of his fellows in the temple looked on the prophecy with derision at best, with fear and hatred at the worst. Priests like him who looked forward to it did not speak of it often. When they did, it was in carefully constructed speech, in somber, solemn tones.
It was becoming very hot inside his cell. His robes, made of the finest scarlet silks and damasks were weighing him down. He sorely wished he could throw them off and get into the pools. Instead he sipped his lukewarm tea, fishing out the mint leaves and then cast his gaze outside. The holy week was a charity week. Many people would need meals and use of the healing pools. There were plenty of funds to care for that need – that had been diverted to other uses at Bakku's behest. There was also the new temple tax, which had been raised to the cry of dismay of the people. It was harder than ever to feed and minister to those who came to the temple on the festival days. He thought on the few families he tried to shepherd. And those that died in the temple riots years ago. He remembered Anet's parents, faithful worshipers at the temple. Anet's mother was one of the few women fierce enough to walk into the temple. She refused to wait outside in the courtyard, stating that it was her right to enter. On her third time entering she was dragged out, stripped and whipped. Her husband, one of the minor nobles of the city withdrew his financial support from the temple at this outrage. This did not go unnoticed. Months later their home was burned down in a mysterious fire. Eliaz remembered because he was visiting with them, unbeknownst to anyone else, administering to them spiritually in secret. He was in the guest room when it happened. They had only one child. Eliaz saved the baby but her parents burned to death. He took a female goat and a camel and traveled to the citadel in Gamina and handed the child to the women there. Riots ensued as the husband and wife were well known in the community who helped the poor and not just the poor of their own people. Many died in those riots. Those were ugly days and the city had not fully recovered from it. Peace in Jhis was only intermittent. People saw the ugliness of the Golden Temple laid bare. The priesthood fooled no one. It reminded them of the oppression of city-state days. He wondered how Anet was doing and he was glad that she was not being raised in Jhis.
He eventually called for his palanquin, got up and hobbled through the high halls and waited by the broad columns at the steps promenade. He felt engulfed by its loftiness, but where once he felt uplifted, now he felt swallowed up, like an ant. His bands were hurting. He wished he had been bold enough switch from these damnable gold ones to leather, like Ilim, who did not care to impress anyone. The metal dug into his skin. I wear them for God. he thought dryly. I shall bear it. He supposed he was just irritable and old. The smell of incense was strong, masking other, oppressive scents. Like the ever present scent of blood, both fresh and rancid, at the meat markets on the hottest days, and the smell of corpses. One could never escape that scent in Jhis.
In the center of the city sat the grand arena, where the battles fought were becoming more elaborate. Or horrific, in Eliaz's opinion. The blood lust of Hec could never be sated. But then it seemed the bloodlust of his own god could not be satisfied either, when one considered the priesthood. Ilim had disappeared from the city, which worried him greatly. They were usually able to secretly pass messages to each other but Ilim had been tossed out like refuse. Ilim was the best of them and never shrank from boldly proclaiming Holy Writ and exposing hypocrisy. He hoped his friend had not met an untimely end. Eliaz felt more despondent as all these troubling thoughts tormented him. Footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Two priests approached and bowed to him. He groaned inwardly. Courtesies had to be observed. Or endured.
“Ahaifa, brother.” They smiled. He bowed to them.
“Peace to you from God, my brothers. How did it go today?”
“No doubt you have heard the news about the queen?” Asked one of them. His name was Rutaz. Eliaz nodded. They smiled as if conspiring with him, or, he thought, perhaps to test him. But maybe his old mind was just growing more suspicious.
“It will be good to have this new queen on our side. Bakku knows the family quite well, I hear.”
“What can the Ainash accomplish through a woman?” Said Eliaz disapprovingly. The other two laughed glibly.
“Well, you are right to question such dealings but in this case we have no choice. For one thing, we may get her support in putting an end to the citadel problem. It is the end result that matters most.”
“Ah. The desert women. They have managed to stay just beyond our grasp.” Said Eliaz.
“The marriage will bring not only wealth and a new ally but more military might to the city.” Said the other priest.
“And what makes Bakku think this new marriage will wor
k for our benefit? I do not wish to see temples to Strabian gods implanted in Jhis.” Said Eliaz, this time in earnest. His concern was growing. Egi was a dark place, Egium the very apex of evil, in his mind. He feared anything from Egium infecting Hybronian culture. Things were bad enough in the land as it was. He viewed Anet as his own great-granddaughter and wished to see no harm come to the women but he crowed and pretended to conspire anyway. The second priest chided him.
“Always the skeptic, Eliaz! She, like all women, is under authority. Until she marries the king she is under her father, whom Bakku has befriended.”
“You are speaking right, Ganu.” Said Eliaz. “Bakku has always been clever and has always made useful connections. But soon her family will go back to Egi and whether she will have any sway with the king is anyone's guess. We all know the king is hot-blooded. He is a proud sun-worshiper and he is capricious. Then there is the problem if Ilim.” He watched them as he said the name. Rutaz made a warding motion with his hands, the other did not seem put off by the name. Eliaz continued.
“He likes Ilim because Ilim was his instructor as a child. It does not follow that he will be concerned with our causes. In fact, many times it has been the opposite with this king.” Eliaz warned.
“Causes?” One of the priests looked at him, puzzled.
“Well, there is the matter of the taxes. . .” Said Eliaz slyly.
“Ah, well. According to Lord Tybble-Awat, that will require a careful approach. We do not yet know how that cause can be championed. But as he says, a way will be found.”
“Hmm.” Said Eliaz, stroking his long beard.
“It is all in how he is approached. And when. Besides that, there is the matter of the former queen. There have been rumors for quite some time that she still has close ties to the citadel.” Said Ganu.
“Ah, but where is the evidence? I hear many rumors but no one has produced so much as a letter proving she still communicates with them. If only we had some proof.” Said Eliaz.
“True. Solid proof would help but I think that there is enough indirect evidence that she serves their interests. No doubt she has had some influence on the king, which is why the citadel still stands.” Said Rutaz. “One could even say she has secretly trod the rope of treason. But of course, these things all require careful work.” Eliaz did not want to hear the rest of this conversation and did not like this evil talk of treason.
“Well my brothers, you are speaking right. But my ancient mind is too feeble for these complex things. I must get to my books. Let me know when the citadel comes crashing down and I shall record it in the current Book of Histories.” They laughed at this. Then they gave him blessings, bowed and said goodbye just as his palanquin arrived.
By now Eliaz had discerned a pattern in the Holy Writings, even if the rest did not. God often shown His favor upon those doing His will and throughout written history Eliaz had come to know that this favor was not shown to the Ainash. He could recall, after the destruction of Assenna and the Scattering, a few desert mothers had escaped slaughter, privation and the diseases that come with chaos. With a few faithful Aishanna-La, they took hold of a long abandoned citadel in Gamina and managed to fortify it against attack again and again, though there were no trained warriors among them. Four times in history the Ainash had tried to slaughter them, to raze the citadel and its town to the ground and all four times they had failed. The last time they'd laid siege to it was fifty years ago. Yet, does not the citadel still stand?
Schisms Page 6
