by Jo Walton
I smiled, then I remembered that I had to tell him about Emer and Conal Fishface. But not in front of Raul. “You sent for me?” I asked.
“Yes.” Urdo looked tired. He sat down, but said no more. Raul glowered. I looked at him, puzzled. I had been working well with Raul since Foreth. He didn’t yell at anyone except Urdo.
“Maybe I should have said, why did you send for me?” I ventured.
Urdo laughed. “I want you to stand quietly and witness, and if necessary, stop Father Gerthmol killing me.” I was unarmored, but I had my sword. I blinked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Raul.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, plaintively.
“I’m going to tell Father Gerthmol that I’m not about to take the pebble,” Urdo explained.
“I’ve been arguing for you with Father Gerthmol for the last twelve years!” Raul said. “Anyone could see that the time wasn’t right, and the situation was delicate. But now! Now when all the kings are here and have renewed their oaths, when peace has been made, it’s the perfect time. It’s what you always said.”
“This Peace is made without the shield of the White God,” Urdo replied. “It will hold better without.”
“But you honor the White God, you know you do!” Raul said.
“I do,” Urdo said. “But I also honor other gods, and I won’t force a decision on anyone.” He turned the chair so it was facing Raul and sat down on it.
“Do you mean the Matausian heresy?” Raul asked. “Because that is how Father Gerthmol will hear that statement, however piously you intend it.”
“Matau was a fool,” Urdo said, impatiently. “I do not say the White God is no different from the other gods. But I will still not take the pebble now.”
“If this is because of Chanerig—” Raul began.
“What Chanerig did has helped to make up my mind,” Urdo interrupted.
“But nobody is asking you to do that!” Raul shouted. They were neither of them taking any notice of me at all. This was obviously an argument that had been going on for some time. I leaned back against the wall, then realized my wet hair was touching the plaster and stepped forward a little.
“If I take the pebble, and I am High King, it would be almost as bad,” Urdo said. He looked over at Raul very seriously. “Why else do you want me to do it? If I were just one man, then what would it matter? But I honor the gods of the land, and I honor those who find other ways to worship, and I will not see them hurt.”
“The powers of the land support you, you can lead them to the light,” Raul said. “At Foreth—” He trailed off, awkwardly.
“Yes, at Foreth,” Urdo said. “At Foreth the gods of the land gave the greatest proof they support me; Coventina herself gave me water for the horses. I think they have little desire to change. I do not think my desire is strong enough to make them.” Raul opened his mouth to protest, but Urdo held up a hand and continued. “Listen to me, Raul. You think that because the land will listen to me then it will do what I want. You saw all Munew come to the light, and you want the whole island to do that. But it is not so simple. The Protectors of Tir Tanagiri hear me, but they will not follow me if I lead them where they do not want to go. It would take my whole heart and my whole will to lead them to worship, and I do not have that will.”
“But even so the people need—”
“Raul, I honor you, and I honor Thansethan. There are priests and monasteries I honor less, who believe they should put all the world behind them, or that they should convert the whole world by force, like Chanerig. There are those, like you, who say that the land gods and the people can praise together. There are crops still in Munew. But there are priests who say the people should stop bowing to old stones and offering ale to the first furrow. They say they should take the old names out of the charms and hymns they use every day to start fires and purify water and heal their hurts and do everything in the name of the White God. I would have any change come slowly, in the time of trees and whole human lives. I would have it happen, if it is to happen, because it is better, not in a hurry to be like the king.”
Raul frowned and twisted the cord that bound his habit. “Worshiping the White God is better,” he said.
“Well, then, so they will choose. I would have everyone free to make their choice. I will not have Ohtar killing your missionaries anymore, but I will not have anyone say that their way is the One True Way for Tir Tanagiri, for see, the High King wears the pebble, and where he leads the whole island must follow. I will not have Alfwin Cellasson or Veniva the wife of Gwien turned from their traditional worship against their will.” He smiled at me as he mentioned my mother. “I would not ever have people or the land converting because I did so when their hearts are elsewhere.”
“Honor lies in praising the White God,” Raul said.
“Does it indeed?” Urdo asked. “Well, you might find honor in one place only, but I have looked more widely and I have found honor among heathens and those who worship the country gods. Sulien there has more honor than Marchel, and I would trust Ohtar further than I would trust Guthrum.”
Raul glanced at me, briefly, without expression, and then back to Urdo. “If this is about Marchel—”
“It is not only about Marchel. Though Thurrig tells me she said to him that the people she killed were not only heathen, they were heathen who had fled the chance of conversion and so had no good in them.”
Raul shuddered. “She did a terrible thing, and she was terribly wrong,” he said. “Not everybody thinks so within the Church, but I think so.” He took three swift steps across the room and squatted in front of Urdo, their eyes level. “I would have everyone come to the Lord of their free will. You know that. But examples and encouragement hurt nobody. And with all this talk of choice and will, have a care for your own soul, Urdo.”
Urdo raised an eyebrow. “Not even Bishop Dewin will say that taking the pebble openly affects the soul, it is merely an outward symbol of remembrance.”
“That’s sophistry,” Raul retorted. “I was speaking of your soul.”
“Bitwini wrote two centuries ago that it is no different if someone takes the pebble with their last words or with their first,” Urdo said. “And the apostle Gorai wrote in comfort to the son of Mikal that those who did not come to praise the Lord in their life may find their way there in lifetimes to come.”
“All but those who deliberately turn their backs on the Lord,” Raul said. They leaned towards each other, staring at each other in silence for a long moment. I was embarrassed to be there.
“Let me worry about my soul,” Urdo said. “Praising the White God is not the only way to holiness.”
Raul frowned. “The way to God is the way to God,” he said.
“There is more to holiness than any one god,” I said. Raul looked sadly at me. “You’re so sure you’re right, it never occurs to you to wonder about the people who really can hear all the wonderful things about your god and still not make that choice. You think everyone will convert in time, with the right argument.”
“Yes,” Raul said, supremely confident. “Everyone whose soul is not mired in evil. You know, Sulien, you see us as closed and narrow, closing all doors but one and then forcing everyone through that one door. But we are not—we are wide and open, for God embraces all the other gods and whatever you can find in them you can find in him, too. He is the God of gods. The whole ordering of the world fits within him, he made the world, all the worlds, so that everyone and everything has their right place and in time they will come to find their way to that place in his light and his glory. And those who pass through him will find the way to life eternal.”
I had heard it all before; he was quoting from their book of memories. “If he made the world and ordered it, why is everything not in that place already?” I asked, as I had asked Arflid long before at Thansethan.
“God made the world and set everything in its place, then he withdrew because he does not want slaves or mach
ines but freely given offerings of praise. In time the world turned to evil and forgot him, except for a few of the faithful in Sinea, so he came into the world as a man to show us the way back.”
“Well if he does not want slaves or machines, and if everybody’s going to find their own way to him in time, why not let people have that time?” I asked.
Urdo laughed, and Raul threw up his hands. “She’s right,” Urdo said. Raul turned back to him. “You pressed Alfwin hard after Foreth, and yesterday Father Gerthmol pressed Ayl even harder. He made it sound like the price of marrying Penarwen of Angas.” I had no idea what he was talking about. I wondered what Father Gerthmol had done and if it had upset any of Urdo’s plans.
“I hear what you are saying about free choice,” said Raul, slowly. “But be gentle with Father Gerthmol.” He looked up at me. “We can quarrel in front of you, Sulien, it is all in the family. But Father Gerthmol will see your presence as a direct insult. Urdo, he just won’t listen to what you have to say if he thinks you’re insulting him. He isn’t a great holy man, even if he would like to be, but he’s a good administrator, he’s a good leader for Thansethan. He is getting old, and he is in a hurry to see everyone come to the light. He has supported you all this time in the thought you were his pupil and thought as he did. He won’t put insults behind him and suffer; he’ll get angry if you throw them in his face.”
I caught Urdo’s eye and motioned towards the door, only too glad to leave if he wanted me to.
“Stay, Sulien,” Urdo said, straightening in the chair and lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck as if it were aching. “Father Gerthmol was not gentle with me yesterday, Raul, or with Ayl, and I must put an end to this. You know as well as I do that Sulien summoned no demon. I have to be firm, and I must do it with all the gods to witness. I would do it before the gods and the people in public if I could, but I do not think he could stomach that. I will force no faith on anyone, nor will I allow any faith to deny any other, and I will have Father Gerthmol understand this in a way he cannot doubt. I will have Sulien here to witness for her gods, and I will have Ohtar to witness for his.”
Raul rocked back on his heels as if he had been slapped. “Urdo, no!”
“Yes. He will be here any moment if the messenger I sent has his wits about him.”
“He has tortured priests to death! He threatened to kill his own daughter when she took the pebble! This is a bad mistake. I know he is an ally, but he has made so many martyrs in Bereich—” Even as he spoke I could hear sounds in the hall outside, and then there was a scratch at the door.
“Perfect timing,” Urdo said. Raul stood and walked back over to the window. “Come in, Ohtar!”
Ohtar came in, and looked at the three of us, clearly puzzled. “Greetings,” he said, and bowed in the Jarnish fashion. I closed the door behind him.
“Ohtar, you are going to have to stop killing the priests of the White God that come into Bereich,” Urdo said, without preliminary.
Raul took a sharp breath, but said nothing. For some reason Ohtar looked at me. I shrugged. “They want to convert my people,” he said.
“Yes,” Urdo said. “And those of your people who are unhappy with their old ways and their own gods will convert, if they are allowed to do so. But if your old ways and your old gods are strong, and if the land gods accept your lordship, then most of your people will be happy in their own ways.”
“They promise to wash them clean and save them and have them live forever in shining light. It makes everything holy very simple. It is deceptive and attractive. People are afraid, and they hear the priests saying for sure what will be.” Raul turned and looked out of the window. I wanted to say to him that he couldn’t run away from the fight no matter how much he wanted to. “Also they tell the people that unless they praise the White God, they will be cast out into darkness for all time. What is the difference between holding a sword at someone’s throat and telling them you will kill them unless they convert and telling them they must convert or face eternal darkness?”
“I agree,” I said. “Many of those among the armigers who convert do it for that reason. It is one thing to offer someone a chance of praising in the light and another to threaten them with being cast out into darkness.”
“If they are happy with their gods and their ways, they will not change from them, for threats or promises,” Urdo repeated. I thought of Kerys and of Aurien and wondered what cause they had to be unhappy with the High Gods. “I am not asking you to convert, or even to listen to the priests yourself,” Urdo went on, looking at Ohtar. “I am telling you to stop killing them wantonly and cruelly. Let them make their way.”
“I have been killing them because they are my enemies. They say I am no king. They breed the horses you ride against us. They take care of your prisoners.”
“Many of the monasteries have supported me, it is true. But we have peace, we are enemies no longer,” Urdo said. “The priests are not under my control. I cannot control what they say. But if you stop killing them, they will stop preaching against you.”
“They want all the land for themselves, I think,” Ohtar said, looking at Raul’s turned back. “They have taken Tir Isarnagiri by force, and they have taken Munew. They would have all the kingdoms if they could.”
“Custennin and Munew chose the White God of their free will,” Raul said loudly, spinning round. “There is no comparison. Chanerig—”
“But who would the land follow, in Munew?” interrupted Ohtar. “Would it follow Custennin or Bishop Dewin? Who truly rules there?”
There was a silence. “Custennin is king of Munew,” Raul said, at last. “And all kings and all nations shall call his name blessed,” he quoted.
“He is king under the White God,” Urdo said.
“And what does such kingship mean?” Ohtar asked, quickly.
“It is a new thing in the land,” Urdo said. “I think it will come to the whole land, but in time, when the people and the land are ready. The White God said that all things have a time and a season, and Kerigano wrote that we should not presume to think that we know the intention of God or recognize when that season has come.”
“He was talking about all good people choosing to praise,” Raul burst in.
“But Sethan himself put a note in his translation saying how many things this thought could be applied to,” Urdo said, and smiled at Raul. “Here we see the wonders of reading a text in the vernacular.”
Raul’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “But still,” he said. “He says all those who can see will open their eyes in time. He says that everyone will come to their places and praise and the world will be made perfect as it was in the beginning.”
“But that time is not ours to force,” Urdo said. Then he turned to Ohtar. “Nobody is telling you to convert. I want you to make peace with the monks, and stop killing them on sight.”
Ohtar hesitated a long moment, looked at Raul, at Urdo, and at me. Then he shrugged. “All right,” he said. “While we have peace I won’t kill them, unless they preach against my rule, but I won’t encourage the rabble either.”
“Good,” Urdo said. “For now you can witness, for your High Gods, as Sulien can for hers.” Ohtar looked at me shrewdly.
“Shouldn’t you ask Emer or Mardol or someone?” I asked. “I’m not a king.”
“People will listen to you just as well,” Urdo said. “I know your heart. I’d have your mother in if she were here, but she’s not. You two stand there and be quiet, witness for me. Raul, come here.”
Raul crossed the room in two swift strides to where Urdo sat. “What do you want of me?” he asked, and he sounded as if he felt pain.
“Bring Father Gerthmol, if he will come,” he said. “If not, I will go to him.”
“He might understand you, but he will never forgive these witnesses,” Raul said, very fervently.
“He will want to hear for himself that Ohtar will have peace with the Church,” Urdo said.
Rau
l sighed loudly and went out.
There was an awkward silence, then Urdo laughed. “Making peace among people is hard enough, let alone making it between gods!”
“When we judged on top of Foreth we all swore by our own gods, and they were there to see justice done,” Ohtar said. “It does not seem so very difficult to me.”
“It does to Raul,” Urdo said. He straightened one of the piles of papers. The top one was a map of the northwest coast of Tir Isarnagiri sketched in black ink. “I never said that I would take the pebble when peace was made, but it seems that they have all expected it as an accepted thing. Even Elenn thought I would. It seems people have been promising it in my name for years.”
“You were brought up in the monastery,” I said. “They really do think everyone can be persuaded sooner or later. They’re sure of it.”
“I do serve the White God in my own way,” Urdo said. “But the whole island is my responsibility. I swore before all the kings to protect the land and the people.”
Then Raul came back with Father Gerthmol. Raul went back to his post by the window. Urdo stood up, and he and the old priest bowed to each other. Then he introduced Ohtar, and then me. We all bowed. He settled Father Gerthmol in one of the chairs and sat down again in the other. I made sure I could jump between them if I needed to. I wasn’t really worried about Father Gerthmol killing Urdo, but if he struck him in front of Ohtar it would make difficulties.
“A misunderstanding has come to my ears,” Urdo said. “I have invited you here to tell you that in the Island of Tir Tanagiri all will be free to worship as they would. No priests will be persecuted or killed for preaching their faith.”
Father Gerthmol looked up at Ohtar, inquiringly, and stared into his eyes.
“I have agreed to this,” Ohtar said, holding his gaze. “As long as they do not preach against me and say I am no king, then I will not hurt them.”
“Praise the Lord!” said Father Gerthmol, looking back to Urdo, who was sitting still and serious.
