Schisms

by V. A. Jeffrey

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The queen was deathly ill and it greatly disturbed the king as she was carrying his hoped for son. Her maidservants and the royal physician were all at her side. She was wet with sweat, fading in and out of delirium.

  “What has happened to her!” Demanded the king.

  “Your Greatness, I believe she has caught a chill but these woman insist other things more sinister.”

  “Do not let my lord king become incensed at us! For it is one of your concubines behind this. One who has bragged to you all this time of carrying a son and yet she has had a daughter instead. She has breathed threat and murder among her own women against the queen and consulted with diviners and witches to curse your future son and the queen!” Said Tryga.

  “Salayma? She is too simple. . .” His attention snapped back to the queen as she rose from unconsciousness again. The queen's feverish murmurs grew louder.

  “Salayma cursed me! She cursed me!” She whispered, her eyes rolling sightlessly. Sweat beaded upon her brow. The king came to the other side of the bed.

  “When? How?” He demanded.

  “She cursed. . .me. . .” She fell silent again. Her whole body was red and the skin burning hot. She closed her eyes.

  “What is she saying?” Demanded the king to the maidservants.

  “The queen invited Salayma to dine with her yesterday and then this morning. . .she became ill!” Cried Setimet.

  “Your Greatness, we will keep her well covered and swaddled to make the fever burn out and subside.” Said the physician.

  “How long has she been like this?”

  “Only a few hours. I was called in as soon as she began to complain of sickness. My lord king, I have never seen a fever take hold so quickly!”

  “She has cursed her with evil magic! She has seen witches, I tell you, Your Greatness! We do not lie! We have watched over the queen and would protect her with our very lives! There was no poison in the food nor in anything near the queen when she came or we would all be dead as we handle and taste everything before she does.”

  “Yet, my queen suffers on the brink of death and my son may not live! You women I will put to death if she dies! Physician, do what you can! Bring Salayma to me!” He shouted to the guards behind the door. The maidservants all bowed low to the ground before the king as he left, calling for every physician in the city to be brought to the palace.

  Miraculously a few hours later, the queen recovered and sat amidst many little jade figurines of Elyshe and Nimnet around her bed. Incense burned on a small alter in the queen's bedroom. She sat propped up on pillows, her hair disheveled but herself fully recovered.

  Salayma was brought before the king, terrified and in ignorance of the queen's episode.

  “You have committed treason!” He accused and laid out the charges against her. The queen's maidservants were called in to recount what they knew and saw.

  “My lord! I have not done this! She invited me to dine with her and I thought we would be friends! I thought. . .”

  “You took that as a reason to move against her! She deigned to show loving kindness to you and you would turn it into black witchcraft to kill her and my son! My son, who is descended from the very gods and you would lift your hand against him in treason! A son, which you did not have. If I recall it, was a daughter you gave me. Jealousy and envy in a woman is deadly. I have had enough of you, Salayma! Throw her in the furnace!” They grabbed her, screaming and wailing in terror, stripped her and threw her into the fires.

  And when the king found that the queen was recovered and doing well, his rage finally subsided.

  . . .

  It was early morning that found the prophet Ilim back in Jhis after he had been warned that the priests and scribes sought his life. He hid himself in a small village west of Jhis and came back two weeks later to resume his commission. He found that things had grown worse since he'd left. Summer was gone with the chill of fall finally settling in. The harvest festival had already started and the holy season of First Things would soon be upon the land. Except that the festive air that usually permeated the city during this time was not in evidence. Although it was quiet and only a few were beginning to stir for the daily morning ministrations Ilim could feel rage, bitterness, despair like an oppressive wave. Since he had changed, since he had seen and heard the glory of the Lord of the Heavens Ilim was sensitive to the emotions of others. He could feel it as a physical thing like waves washing over him at sea. It was nearly a frightening experience and it seemed to grow stronger every day, this new perception. Besides, he saw evidence of great trouble before he had even gotten to the city. Smoke rising and not from the usual direction in the north. It was coming from inside the city! It was on fire, or had been. Ilim's heart grew heavy with fear and worry for the Lady Diti. The men at the gate knew him instantly upon seeing him and did not question or stop him but merely bowed curtly at his approach.

  “My sons, what has happened here?” He asked.

  “Ten days ago there was a fire, started in the southern district. Burned much of the Southern Quarter including the great temple of the sun god, father.”

  “How did this happen?” The men shrugged.

  “The gods, perhaps? Parts of the city still burn. It was as if the whole world was ending. Fire at night like a roaring sea, a sea of fire as if the dark god himself had risen from the depths to punish us all!” Said one.

  “Yes, father! Nothing but smoke and fire choked the Southern Quarter and the fires themselves could be seen for leagues around. It was a terrible sight. I nearly thought the eternal fires had engulfed the city. Hundreds of people are dead. They are still counting corpses and those are just the ones they've found. Over six hundred so far. The fires stopped mostly after the temple burned down. As if Hec said: “Enough! It must stop here.” I thought the whole world would burn.”

  “Juhi!” Ilim exclaimed. “I hope you did not lose anyone you know?”

  “No, thank the gods! I did not know anyone who died in the fires.”

  “Neither did I.” Said the other guard. Ilim could forgive these men their superstitions over the dark fires and the Unnamed One. Such a sight would frighten the wits out of anyone.

  “How does the city stand now? Is there trouble? Besides this inferno?” He asked.

  “There is trouble. Some people are saying that the Ainash are behind it because of what happened during the wedding festivities.”

  “What happened with the Ainash?” He asked. The two guards looked at each other and then at him in disbelief.

  “My brothers, I have been away from the city.”

  “Well,” said one of the guards, “the king ordered some in the Ainash priesthood into the arena prisons. A champion had to be chosen to win a battle against two lions. If the champion lost, which most assumed he would, they would all be put to death. The champion won, so the priests were allowed to live. Some say they got their vengeance upon their enemies by attacking the sun god's temple.”

  “But which enemies, I wonder? This is a bad turn of events.” He was astonished that this news had missed him.

  “Perhaps this is a war between gods.” Said one of the men.

  “You are more right than you realize.” Said Ilim.

  “Be careful, good father. We know you do not hold with much nonsense and have nothing to do with the politicking in the city but as for your fellows at the Golden Temple, they are not held in high esteem in the city by all. The only thing that keeps armed mobs at bay from tearing down your temple are the Hatchet Men, whom many men fear. Tensions are running high between the people of Hec and the people of Airend-Ur. Some of the Aishanna-La saw the arena fight as an attack on them and now it is perceived that the worshipers of Airend-Ur have struck back against the sun god for this mess.”

  “Who is this champion?”

  “A man, a great warrior named Rhajit. People call him Rhajit the Ram.”

  “Rhajit the Ram. I do not know of him. I thank you my
sons, but the message I have will not please either those of Hec or those of the Golden Temple. What does the king say?”

  “We do not know but there is a mandatory curfew until the villains who started the fires are found. Any caught out past sundown will be executed. Activity by the guard and the king's warriors have increased.”

  “I thank you. I have this to say, the temple may be gold on the outside but inside it is full of blood and bones of the innocent ones. It is not holy to me or to God. The time is coming my sons, when He will clean out what is bad in Hybron. And He will start with His own people.” Ilim said. With this news on his mind he entered Jhis, now with a heavier heart. Indeed the air was misted with a thin layer of smoke everywhere. He made his way as quickly as he could to his little house before the streets were bustling with people. Whatever the problem, Ilim had a harsh message to bring to the people once again. Perhaps all this was another sign that things were changing, yet most people did not have the wit to see it. His message would start with the house of Airend-Ur and they would not be happy to see him again.

  Once he arrived home he went about setting a fire from the few branches that were left by the hearth. He blew dust off the table and sat down at his kitchen table, wondering morbidly while eating some dried meat leftover from his traveling whether he would be beheaded or thrown to the lions or into the fires. He wondered how much pain he would endure before he died. Then he wondered at this mysterious man, Rhajit. This champion that prevented the very men that he was sure had caused this mess to come about from getting just what they deserved and he grew wrathful at the thought. This will not do! he said to himself. Ilim prayed incessantly all that night for the strength and for boldness to carry out his message, come what may. He also made a mental note to keep abreast of important news in the city. He fell asleep in his chair and when he woke it was predawn.

  Ilim went to the Golden Temple and began denouncing the priesthood and the people of the city to turn back from doing bad.

  “Why do you allow this ruffian? This man! He has positioned himself at the foregate of the temple and he is speaking with a voice as if from heaven and he has showed disrespect to the king with his pronouncing the city and its people fit for destruction! Something must be done! Everything is allowed here! The Jurite king raids the south with impunity and now this rebel!” Raged one of the officials. They were in Bakku's apartments at the palace. Bakku sipped his tea and then set the delicate bone cup down before speaking.

  “Calm yourself, Caullas. It is Ilim. He has styled himself a prophet but his downfall is coming.”

  “But why does the king allow it? Why does the king not put him to death? Is he not doing these things against the king?”

  “The king tolerates him out of some misguided affection or loyalty, so long as he does not say anything against the king. As long as he rails against the priesthood the king ignores it. Besides, I have spoken to him on the matter. The king has other matters that are far more serious. Temuz and Kufun, for instance.”

  “I do not think you understand, Bakku. This luti prophet,” Caullas spat, “is gaining esteem in the eyes of the people. I do not know what the people here think of him but those in my district of Galieh, also as far as Rhuctium and even farther south and in the east people are talking about a desert prophet having been raised up! This fraud is styling himself to be that one and he is drawing people away from the temple in Jhis and even from the temples of Hec.”

  “Yes.” Said another official. “Have you not heard? He draws people away from the Golden Temple and toward that den of witches in the Gamina province.”

  “I have heard.” Said Bakku.

  “You seem undisturbed. Do you know something we do not?”

  “I know that the fire in the city that destroyed part of the southern district and the great temple of Hec has caused riots between the Aishanna-La and the people of Hec. I know that many view this as the fault of the Ainash. We are working to correct that and it may be that we will be able to take care the problem very soon. Besides, you two do not worship as I do. Why do you care?”

  “Because in my experience, prophets who speak with power and charisma like him can cause great trouble if they are ignored for too long. They foment violence. I remember many years ago the false prophet Yarlaam came talking of raining fires and the coming of the One of the dark fires. He nearly toppled the natural ruling order of Haiga, back when it was a city-state. False prophets abound when times are uncertain.” Said the other official.

  “True.” Agreed Caullas. “Even Hec has his own gaggle of doomsayers. Besides, how do you know he is not the cause of these riots?”

  “He may be, but the matter is. . .difficult.”

  “What do you mean by difficult?”

  “People fear him. We sought to have him arrested some weeks ago and he somehow slipped through our fingers. Some now fear to approach him, even some of our own militia are in awe and claim he is a holy man and do not dare to lift up their hands against him. When he speaks, like you say, it has a certain power.”

  “So he has a demon! Kill him, I say! Before he causes real trouble!” Caullas was growing impatient.

  “I cannot do a thing!” Bakku said in irritation.

  “So perhaps the priesthood will be moved to do something when no one comes to the precious Golden Temple for the festival! Perhaps they will go elsewhere. Like Gamina.” The other satrap goaded.

  “That will not happen! Why would anyone travel to some dusty outpost in the middle of nowhere filled with goat and camel dung to a crumbling castle when they could come to the beautiful temple we have here? Really.” Bakku sniffed. The satrap leaned in conspiratorially.

  “So what is this plan? You brought us here for some good reason, did you not?”

  “There are plans afoot but we must be careful. Remember the fate of the Kushigyar.” He warned. They muttered mercies at hearing this. He nodded.

  “And do not forget what nearly happened to the me, to the priesthood during the wedding festivities. This king is unpredictable. He is dangerous. First he is your friend, then he is your enemy and do not think any official is safe. He hates nobles, and any officials with ties to the noble families, of which all three of us have, he does not trust. Consider what he did to gain the throne.” He allowed this to sink in. Then he continued.

  “So, the plan is to allow Ilim to continue his defamatory speeches, for now. There is growing dissent and while the people do not like the Ainash we have a certain protected place here. They will not attack us. However, they will eventually wage an all out war between each other, the low peoples. Enough fighting and unrest and it may partially destabilize the realm and the people will stop looking at the king as their great savior. They will be afraid. Ilim will only help that endeavor with his preaching. The people will get tired of him one day. Eventually, we will use him to go after the heart of all of our problems, the women of the citadel.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “Then allow me to explain further. The king of Zapulia heaps insults upon Khalit and we are hearing reports from officials in the east that he and King Kufun plan to meet to seal an alliance between Temuz's daughter and one of Kufun's sons. This cannot be allowed. The King of Jura is massing ships off our coast. Things are coming to a head, my friends. And much of it will be laid upon the witches in Gamina who sympathize with the people of the earth and the luti of the deserts. They all talk of change and overturning the order of things. Treasonous talk. The king is getting ready to marshal his forces against both Temuz and Kufun and in one fell swoop he will also deal with the witches.” The others looked at him quizzically.

  “What do those witches have to do with any of this?”

  “Nothing. But they will take the fall for what has happened in the city and be blamed as rebels of the king and Ilim along with them. It will seem as if they have fomented this and caused the fire in Jhis. In fact, this is already being said. All of these things serves the purpose of the Golden T
emple. After all, while he is gone, occupied with war, those of us who wish to see the re-institution of the city-state will have the opportunity to strengthen our hands.”

  “Who else is with us?” Asked Caullas. Bakku leaned in and lowered his voice.

  “I cannot say as of yet. Powerful ones of the court, from Egi.” They both gave him astonished looks.

  “You mean to attempt what I think you mean?” Bakku gave him a meaningful stare.

  “Ahhh. Finally, after all these long years of barbarism and filth, something is being done.” Said the other official.

  “This is careful work. We do not wish to move before it is time. I shall keep you both appraised of the plan and there will be rich rewards for those who back us in our cause.” Promised Bakku. In truth, Bakku feared for his life while King Khalit was alive and no amount of prayers or offerings at the temple could ease his mind. The king's animosity toward the Ainash seemed to grow each day. He had an important ally in the queen and the Egian captains, but moving too swiftly could cause civil war. However, he noted that the firmament could melt in fire and fall to Chialis before the king would lift a hand to do anything to Ilim the prophet. Whatever happened to Ilim when he left the city it was something supernatural. A powerful demon he had within him, Bakku and many of his friends were now thoroughly convinced of this.

  And he had the effrontery to come back.

  There were times when he preached against the so-called calumnies of the priesthood that his very face shined as if it were light itself. He drew more crowds each day and he spoke as if he had a god in him. Bakku shrank from Ilim now and wished he were dead but noted that Ilim fascinated the queen. Unnaturally, in Bakku's opinion. She asked to know what things Ilim had to say each day and sent people to listen to his endless tirades. It was all hurtling toward some event. Bakku hoped that event was the utter destruction of all those who stood against the Golden Temple, most of all, Ilim.

  Ilim grabbed a handful of dust and blew it into the air until it became a dervish. And he continued: “This is what the First Pillar has said: “ 'Listen you people of Jhis for the First Pillar that you and your forefathers have left for others gods has a matter against you in that your hands are filled with the blood of innocent ones and lust for the gold and for the silver in that you sell your poor men and the foreigner to the god of fire, you sell your young men for blood games in droves, you sell children to the slavers for a bowl of stew and to the whorehouses for a loaf of bread. You go lusting after the sheer rush of the lion's roar and your feet go running after false prophets and fortune-tellers who whisper guttural sounds and roll their eyes as if they have a deep message. And you have said: “I want only pleasure and excitement and who can sate me?” You have said: “Ah! I do not know Airend-Ur!” Yet, have I not made all other gods? Am I not the First One from whom all things come? Hear what I have said: I shall overturn your tables of gold and electrum and your weaved baskets full of dark things you have hidden away. I shall turn the sun on to your dark places and expose your dealings and treacheries! Oh Jhis, come back to the way of the Red Path that your forefathers walked and I shall not bring to remembrance your wickedness. Do you not know what is right? Turn to doing good and I shall shower the land with rain and all manner of good things will flow to all the peoples and I shall bless you and you will prosper all your days and your sons will prosper all their days and there will be peace. If you do not, you will have to reap the bitterness that is coming, the horrors that will eat up your children and the rotten seedlings you have planted and the bad seed you have sown and there will be black evil in the land because of your deeds and you will have to eat it and become sickened and die from it and there will be no peace or rest in the land and you will have to face the darkness. . .' ”