Green Monk of Tremn, Book I: An Epic Journey of Mystery and Adventure (Coins of Amon-Ra Saga 1)

by NJ Bridgewater

  Chapter X.

  Wedded Bliss

  The hall was flooded with light and wultva-birds chirped and tweeted in the fresh morning air. As Ffen arose, he squinted and then stretched his wearied muscles, which had not rested well in the sleepless night just passed. He sat up upon his bench and held his face in his palms, trying to recollect his dreams and the passionate encounter of yesternight. As he did so, the dream in which he had lost his throne in Ganka came rushing back to him and he nearly swooned in despair, but then the equally potent recollection of Reshga and her soft body pressed against his, her wild eyes and flowing hair, the tightness of those hands which had gripped his back and the captivating charm of her graces overpowered him, such that he sunk back into an ocean of infatuation. Whether this was love or mere bodily desire, a carnal attraction precipitated by instinctual impulses, or a genuine meeting of two souls in the plain of true love and destiny, he was incapable of discerning, for the power of passion is such that it blinds the eye of reason, shuts firm the door of discernment and snuffs out the candle of detached reflection. Whereas he had aforetime considered his religious impulse to be the paramount guide for his actions, had developed spiritual propensities which eschewed material temptations, and had based his every motive on the highest ideals inculcated by his monastic training and regimen, he now felt inundated by contrary thoughts and motivations stemming from the primal urges of debased sentiments which find their origin in the lower nature of man. Such is infatuation and such was Ffen’s disease. Ifunka and Shem, on the other hand, seemed immune to such influences and happily conversed and performed their ablutions and prayers while Ffen watched them in uncomprehending bemusement. He felt neither able nor willing to pray but, rather, performed his toilette in private and then went for a stroll in the surrounding gardens, which seamlessly transitioned into the encompassing forest. There he found himself alone with his thoughts and able to somewhat restore the equilibrium of his troubled mind. Ffubishes floated through the trees, ffigs rolled about the forest floor and wilg-lemurs, not Shig but obviously his less-tamed cousins, leapt from branch to branch or pranced about on branches high above, lending an edenic charm to the pristine surroundings.

  After a while, Ffen came upon a clearing in the forest in the middle of which there stood an old, ruined building fashioned of large stones. Part of the roof had caved in but it was otherwise possible to enter it and the structure seemed relatively stable. Always curious and desirous to explore that which was ancient and mysterious, he went inside. The doorway was too short so he had to duck as he entered. Within it was relatively light due to the collapsed portion of ceiling. The walls were awash with paintings faded and worn with the passage of time, depicting scenes from the history of the Old Central Kingdom, including King Ishmael slaying the Biknogs of Kraina and Hashemaff revealing the Tamitvar to Votsku. There were tables upon which old, decaying manuscripts were scattered about. Ffen began to examine them. There were old copies of the Tamitvar, monastic codes, books of poetry and history—then he espied a collection of letters, several written in a masterly hand on meb-vellum. The language was archaic but comprehensible and he read aloud:

  Esteemed Sir,

  I am writing to inform thee of the great deceits and unwholesome activities of the usurpers who have now assumed control over Kubbawa, the illustrious imperial city. With the line of emperors now ended and the bishops and archbishops in full control of the realm, a new system has been thrust upon us which has no sanction or basis in the Tamitvar or imperial law. The priestly hierarchy have declared that we are now a ‘Holy Theocracy’, a term formed in the absurd imagination of Baku, the High-Priest and Archbishop of Kubbawa. The senior bishops and archbishops have begun to take multiple wives while the lesser priests have been prescribed celibacy and abstinence. Even the monks, who have hitherto only adopted celibacy after reaching their fortieth year, and then were erstwhile permitted to visit their wives, if still alive, thrice per year, have now been forced to accept complete celibacy—a condition unnatural to man. I urge the priests and monks throughout the Great Forest of Ffushkar, therefore, to resist these innovations and maintain the purity of the Tamitvaric Faith. Salvation, as we well know, comes through faith and good works, not through unnatural austerity. I fear this may be my last letter to thee for, I believe it is all too likely, I shall be found out as an opponent of the new regime and executed for treason. Keep the true faith, my brother Wishgaff. Thine is true brotherhood and devotion.

  Gaffka,

  Priest of Gven District, Kubbawa

  This letter was revelatory in its frankness and undiluted criticism of the Theocracy. It revealed a truth which had been hidden from Ffen and all the other monks of Tremn, viz. that total celibacy is an irreligious innovation invented by the Archbishop of Kubbawa in order to maintain control over the monks and lesser priests. By reserving wives and children for the upper echelons, the rank and file would always be fresh recruits who could be easily indoctrinated. Monks would leave no children to pass on the truth to. They would be strictly controlled by their masters within a rigid hierarchy. The same elite families would supply the highest positions in the Theocracy in an hereditary oligarchy. Royalists and followers of the original, unadulterated Tamitvaric religion would be excluded from these same positions, as would anyone else with contrary opinions. ‘Perhaps Brother Ushwan had been deliberately removed for opposing the Theocracy,’ Ffen thought to himself. ‘But then, he didn’t really express any subversive sentiments—not to me at least.’ Excited by these revelations, Ffen kept searching the papers on the table until he found another letter, this time from the priest of the village of Habka, dated to the same era:

  Dearest Sir, My Lord of Ffash Valley,

  Three more freemen of this village have gone missing, namely Yosh Tabnag, Hin Shek, and Ffun Ffed, all of whom were knowledgeable and enlightened souls. Our village is well-nigh exhausted of intelligence and now only the low-minded and baser elements of our area remain. I believe, as does the chieftain, that the demon-worshippers are to blame. They have been seen in other villages of this region, particularly taking virgins—male and female—to sacrifice in their satanic rites. The bishop refuses to aid in their recovery and has lifted not one of his soft fingers to rid us of this scourge. I must, regrettably, conclude that we have been left to our own devices, abandoned by the Theocracy to this ceaseless predation. I am of no doubt that the bishops are more than aware of the demon-worshippers; nay, they are in league with them. Only last month, Yosh Tabnag’s uncle, Bosh Tabnag, voiced criticism of the bishop in the local inn. Two weeks later, he was arrested by an officer of the bishop, a bailiff accompanied by ten soldiers—a wholly disproportionate host for one elderly man!—and took him to the gaol at Ffantbav. I am certain he will be executed according to the shegbash, a most horrible end, all to the delight of the ignorant masses. What a coincidence, then, that Yosh should then disappear, along with Hin and Ffen, both of whom are cousins of Yosh—the one by marriage and the other on his mother’s side. What a barrel of evil happenstance and misfortune, my lord! Nay, I urge Your Lordship to keep true to the faith and keep holding out against the Theocracy. Beware the demon-worshippers lest they also depopulate your noble and most fortunate valley of the crème de la crème of population.

  In the Great Spirit’s service,

  Yours truly,

  Shen Davga,

  Deputy to His Excellency the Chieftain and Alderman,

  Habka Village

  Depopulate indeed! Here was evidence that the valley had, piece by piece and man by man, been reduced by the demon-worshippers who were, by implication, in league with the Theocracy to silence and remove the undesirable elements of the population in Ffushkar. So it was, then, that the villages were now full of such riff-raff and imbeciles as Ffen and his companions had so far encountered. Perhaps the dream he had had of losing a throne in Ganka was all bunkum, a mere humbug inspired by his own inhibitions and false ind
octrination. Truly, marriage for a monk was traditional and he should feel no shame in it. His passions, then, could be requited in a legitimate fashion. His vows, concocted by an usurping elite, were worth no more than the parchment they were written on. Ffen felt liberated, free from a thousand years of lies and delusion. The Tamitvar was not the source of oppression—it was a path to liberation. The highest seats in Ganka were not reserved for the overly penitent, the doers of austerities, the intemerate ascetics and zealous flagellants; rather, it was for those who had true faith and performed good works. With these thoughts in mind, Ffen rose and lifted his arms to the ceiling, nearly touching it, and rejoiced. He could be with Reshga and her sisters with no shame or remorse. Truly, he was now a free man—free from blind dogmas and man-made restrictions. Truly, he was liberated from the veil of darkness imposed by the Theocracy.

  He ran out of the old ruin and back to the Great Hall. Ifunka and Shem were awaiting him, wondering where he had gone. He joyfully shared all that he had learnt. Ifunka and Shem were shocked but happy and, though they still determined not to marry the Lord’s daughters, still they were happy for Ffen and wished him luck. They ate breakfast, which was brought by Yimga, and waited patiently for the lord’s arrival. He had, Yimga informed them, gone to fetch some things for the wedding and would return shortly. After an hour, he returned carrying a heavy chest. He greeted them all and then opened the chest, which contained three luxurious dresses as well as a richly woven tunic for a man, gold rings and bracelets, and other precious items. It also contained a jewel-encrusted volume of the Tamitvar and a similarly opulent book of prayer containing the marriage rites and other important prayers and formulae for rites and ceremonies.

  Scanning through this book, he found the relevant passages and then addressed all those present.

  “All is ready—save only for the brides and groom to vest themselves. Go and dress in these fine garments!”

  He handed three dresses to his daughters and the tunic to Ffen and also apportioned the rings, bracelets and other ornaments. They dressed and then returned.

  “Ifunka, if you wouldn’t mind,” said the lord. “You can lead the ritual rites for the ceremony.”

  Ifunka had never married anyone before but he willingly accepted and received the already-open tome from Tem’s hands. Scrolling down the page, he located the relevant verses. Ifunka raised his hood and Shem did likewise; Ffen, now a layman, had none to raise.

  “Peace and greetings to all who are gathered to witness this holy rite,” he uttered, using the time-old formula. “We have come together, in this hall, to wed those three birds to this great root, that is: Reshga, Yimga and Meshga Ffash, daughters of Hem Ffash, now deceased, represented by his father, Tem Ffash, Lord of Ffash Valley, and Ffen Weshga, son of…”—he paused, turning to Ffen—“What is your father’s name?”

  “Ffetv,” he replied.

  “Son of Ffetv Weshga,” he continued. “Who is not present, a brother of the Holy Order of the Brothers of Bishgva of the Right Religion of the Sacred Tamitvar, of the Monastery of the Brown Owl. Do all three of you agree to wed this fast root?” He turned to the girls.

  “We do,” they all agreed.

  “Dost thou give consent?” he asked Tem.

  “I do,” Tem affirmed.

  “Dost thou agree to marry these three birds?” Ifunka asked Ffen.

  “I do,” Ffen confirmed.

  “Then come together and let you be joined in holy matrimony under the watchful Eye of the Great Spirit, the All-Seer, the Omniscient, the All-Wise.”

  They approached and each girl held onto Ffen’s hands.

  “Let them now be joined together!” he called and then uttered the marriage verse in Vocatae as each of the marrying parties repeated in unison:

  “Om Cacansa Vaba! Celphice cel vearutai lemon quirb di pheum. Celphic melcap celphice vodai quirb gatoint le. Iedi Amantuadic, pheum cub Quator-Alecvon, celphice vabasin quirb celphic vabacim sueint le.”

  (“O Great Spirit! These who were single are now one. These birds are now joined to this root. In the name of the Almighty, the Ever-Living, these souls are now one with this soul.”)

  Then he said (in Tremni): “Ffogashkimitvitvei oft akffebakimitv! Raffal (As it is said, now is it done! Even so)!”

  “Raffal (Even so)!” everyone present repeated.

  “Let the marriage be consummated!” Ifunka called out.

  Ffen and his new wives then exited the room.

  “One at a time,” Tem counselled as Ffen was led out of the room by his over-eager brides.

  He was practically spirited away to Reshga’s cottage, the first, after which he would visit Yimga and, finally, Mashga. Ifunka presided over more prayers and recitations from the Tamitvar which continued for an hour as Ffen, absent from these formalities, went about his business.

  Ffen emerged from Mashga’s cottage about noon. He was alone; the girls were resting. He appeared tired but rejuvenated, as if a new life flowed through his every vein and sinew. Congress—congress of the flesh or, as one Tremni idiom goes, kaladog ritvayeng, i.e. tilling the field, as in ritva novt kaladant offtishfferayu ‘they tilled the field throughout the night,’ though the tiller and the field are clearly distinguished persons, was, on Tremn as on earth (and, indeed, throughout the Milky Way Galaxy) the primary and most ancient activity of all complex biological organisms. From flowers to whales, from mice to giant ffentbaffs, fields have always been tilled through a strong, almost irresistible imperative. Indeed, only humanoids are truly capable of celibacy and, even among these, such abstention from carnal gratification results in emotional damage, frustration and depression. Thus Ffen, released from the unnaturally imposed restrictions which had weighed so heavily upon him, was now free—free and unburdened—full-satisfied through the tireless enthusiasm of the three Ffash sisters. Though pure maidens (i.e. virgins), as all unmarried Termna women are supposed to be (and men, for that matter), they were as enthusiastic as Ffen had been to cast aside their unblemished purity for the satisfaction of marital union. Consummation, or garshalffog platvyeng, i.e. untying the knot (no relation to the English expression ‘to tie the knot’), marked the completion, of fulfilment, of the wedding ceremony, meaning that there was now no going back, with divorce being a rare and exceptional circumstance in the Tamitvaric religion. It was allowed in cases of infidelity and sterility, though taking a second wife was common in the latter circumstance and, in the former, the unfaithful partner would face a penalty of five years’ incarceration. On the third offence, the adulterer would face capital punishment (the method of execution differing in the various regions of Tremnad). In the Old Central Kingdom, the usual punishment was beheading, but in the Great Desert of Yatvegab, it was common to bury the fornicating offender in the sand and let them be eaten by the dakrayatv, the sand dragons which sweep through the lofty dunes and sand plains. In any case, Ffen was both happy and exhausted. Ifunka called him to lunch but he shrugged and said only:

  “I’m going for a bath in the stream.”

  “Very well,” said Ifunka. “But remember, we’re leaving in an hour or two so please don’t let us leave without bidding each other farewell.”

  “I won’t!” he called as he hurried off.

  “He’s lost to us now,” Shem remarked.

  “It seems so,” Ifunka replied, nodding.

  “If only we could convince Tem to let us take him along with us. With any luck, he’ll have seeded his new wives and we’ll take care to keep him out of danger so he can return and become lord of the valley.

  “I don’t think Tem will risk it.”

  They performed their prayers and then ate, awaiting Ffen.

  Ffen plunged into the pure, sweet water of the brook which flowed through the valley. It was cool, revivifying, cleansing, healing his tired muscles and aching sinews. The golden sunbeams warmed his bare shoulders, which jutted fo
rth from the crystal, flowing stream. He closed his eyes, remaining motionless as the liquid coursed over and around his limbs. Though still and silent in body, his mind roared like a torrent—a thousand contrary thoughts and passions fighting one another in a melee of violence. Memories, hopes, mixed feelings of loyalty to his friends and newfound love budding forth from the rich soil of the heart, were flung together, catapulted by his ego and conscience. How could he abandon his friends—and yet, how could he also abandon his newly-minted wives. Wives! what a word! Surely, they were angels—but nay!—do angels take such ravishing forms as these, so fresh like dew on the redolent flower-petals of dawn, yet so full of lustful zeal, so eager in its intensity, so desperate in its urgency, like a wayfarer travelling across the barren dunes of Yatvegab, when once he finds a pool of limpid water welling up from within the sandy depths. Aye! to be swept away by such passions, a mess of clinging, frantic limbs and panting breath!

  Opening his eyes, he gazed into the pellucid water which shone brilliantly and sparkled in the sun’s effulgence. As he focused on an area of water which was not overly bright, he discerned his own reflection, his nude upper torso, his wet hair dripping with resplendent droplets. He thought of whom he had become and pondered his destiny, and ever and anon the faces of his companions appeared before him, beseeching his help. ‘I should go with Ifunka and Shem,’ he concluded at last. ‘Even though I should leave my wondrous brides behind. I am flesh of their flesh and they are mine in body and in spirit, yet I must leave them for a while and, if the Great Spirit wills, return to them in good time. I must ask Tem for his leave.’