They speak all the time but this time I am sure it was different, thought Benjamin. Maybe it was the way the Bishop had just announced it. He remained silent but sat up in his seat and leaned forward to close the gap between them.
"He had some choice words for me about you. You might call them threatening, if you believed in them. Something about your eternal damnation in the fires of Hell. You know – the place for all heathens such as yourself? Seems he wants to hasten that event, had he the power." The Bishop laughed at the raised eyebrows of his friend.
"Heathen? Me?"
"Yes, you!" The Bishop smiled with the words to soften them. "You know of God and yet you refuse to believe in Him. That makes you a heathen of the worst kind! I'm sure God has a special place put aside for you down there. A real hotspot!"
Benjamin chuckled, reached out and briefly grasped the top of the Bishop's hand. "My dear Bishop. Let me enlighten you to the real truth in the world! Let me be the first to introduce you to the one and only true god. The god that is hidden behind the clouds! He is in fact a lovely pitcher of red wine that looks very much like this one before us. Sadly, now half empty. But I digress! What is important is that I have now told you of him and I suspect you do not believe me. That makes you a heathen of..." and Benjamin lowered his voice ominously, "Ewer God! And now, sir, you will suffer for all eternity in the wine–less wasteland of some truly horrible place. So on and so forth..." He waved his hands majestically. The Bishop was gaping at the horrible pun.
"Ewer God? Your God? Terrible pun, sir! But pschaw! I say! My God trumps Ewer God – a false god I might add and getting lower in volume, and so I still get to go to heaven! The Book tells me so!"
"The same book that can't get right simple animal classification, or the anatomy of insects?"
The Bishop spluttered in his wine.
"You know, written by the very same guy that actually created said animals and insects?"
"Yes, yes, Benjamin. We argued that particular point months ago. I successfully defended that."
"Defended? You just changed how you counted the legs!" Benjamin slapped his leg and sat at the edge of his seat. "Hmmm. Honestly, how can anyone believe your book was written by God?"
"Yes, yes, enough!" demanded the Bishop. "That's not what we need to speak about."
Benjamin laughed and sat back in his chair. Ewer God, he thought. That's brilliant. They sat for a moment in silence before Arnold looked up intently at Benjamin. Here it comes, thought Benjamin, this is when he tells me that he has lost the debate but then asks me not to win.
"I think I need to win this debate, Benjamin," he said quietly.
Benjamin glanced at the Bishop. "You do, do you?" he asked, though he knew the answer.
The Bishop grew quiet for a moment and looked at Benjamin for a long while before responding. "Yes, I do. I suspect you already know why that must happen, though, don't you, Benjamin?"
Benjamin looked away for a moment and then nodded. Tears stung his eyes for a moment and it surprised him. He glanced at the books next to the Bishop as if seeing them for the first time and was startled to spot the symbol of druids prominently displayed on the spine of one of the uppermost books. It was the symbol of his order represented by three twisted spirals and it was called the triskelion. It was on a book easily recognisable to him as the Draoi Manuscript, a secret book of his order. The book was often times simply called the Tree. There were only five copies of it in existence. His vow to Gaea could not allow others to know the extent to what his order could do. It was impossible that the Bishop possessed one – they were all accounted for and carefully guarded. He would have known if one had been lost.
Nothing about this made sense. If the Bishop had read it he would have to take measures to insure that that knowledge did not leave with him. The Bishop did not miss the look at the book and leaned back in his seat.
"Relax, my friend. I have not read it – well, mostly. I read the warning and a little bit more. But not much more."
Benjamin stared at the Bishop in disbelief and felt anger starting to well within him. He felt betrayal flood him, hard and hot. Someone within his order had allowed the book to escape. That was inconceivable. And now he would need to clean the mess up and would need to take measures with his friend. Benjamin struggled with options. The Bishop reached up, took the book off the pile and passed it over to Benjamin. Benjamin took it in his hands and drew it protectively to his chest.
"You've not read it and yet here it lays here on your pile. How am I to believe that?"
"Because I am here now handing it to you in private," said the Bishop softly. "That is how you are to believe me."
Benjamin regarded his friend for a moment and then, seeing the honesty reflected back to him, he forced himself to relax and try to think this through sanely. He settled back in his seat and placed the book on his lap, caressing the cover. As soon as his hand passed over the symbol of his order he knew it was a copy and he glanced at it in surprise. The symbol on the cover, the triskelion, was embossed on all five copies of the tome. But he could feel that this one was engraved. He looked up at the Bishop and saw him smiling back at him.
"Yes," he said. "It's a copy, that much is clear. I don't know how accurate it is as a copy – you will need to be the judge of that, I'm afraid," The Bishop leaned back in his seat and clasped his hands over his ample stomach. "I found the book deep in the Church archives in the section reserved for heretical publications. The listing for the book simply stated that it had been copied some decades ago from an original. It did not say who or how, I'm afraid."
Benjamin gathered his wits for a moment. He willed his anger to subside. Not his fault then. It hadn't happened during his watch. It had been copied decades ago, the Bishop had said, and he believed him for he could hear the sincere truth in his voice. The Tree was a closely guarded secret in the realm; only those with druidic powers knew of its existence. The book revealed far too much of his order. It explained their powers, their weaknesses, and their strengths. He was dumbfounded that a copy had sat in the Church archives for decades and yet the Church had done nothing about it.
"I don't understand," he finally said, and he really didn't. "You found this in the archives and you knew what it was and now you freely hand it to me, unread. You need to explain this to me."
"Mostly unread!" corrected the Bishop with a smile. "It is a simple matter, Benjamin. Do not worry yourself. Let me explain," he said quickly. "During my research for our debate, I decided to peruse the more disturbing books that I could in desperation. I was stumbling about looking for anything to support my Faith. It was an easy matter to gain access to the section. Nothing is off limits to me at this point in the Debate. Anyway, the section is normally under heavy lock and key. The books in that section are evil, you have my word on that. Horrible books." The Bishop shivered despite the warmth of the library. "But I digress. I found that book almost at once. I opened it and I read the warning."
The Bishop looked to Benjamin for a moment at these words but Benjamin merely glared back at him.
"Benjamin, I ignored the warning at first and started to read it. Once I understood what it was and what the implications were, I stopped at once, I assure you."
Benjamin thought for a moment and then nodded once. The Bishop chuckled. "I know about your order, Benjamin. You are the head druid of the Aretha Tacuinum Sanitatis, no? The Tree?"
Benjamin rocked back in his seat. This man now knew what people had been unable to discover over many centuries. He was at a complete loss for words and could only stare back at this man of the Church who now threatened all that the druids took painstaking care to hide from the world. All the other druids, the full Stocs, the journeymen Craobhs and even the fledgling Duilleogs were spread all across the land tending to their tasks and now completely at risk of discovery as druids with magyc powers. The balance was in jeopardy. Benjamin's ears began to ring loudly in shock.
"And?" he said, seeing no reason to lie about the order at this
point. He was certain that this learned man had read some of the words and then simply put the pieces together, no matter how slight, over his many years of secular study to conclude what his order was. The Bishop was a very intelligent man.
"Hmm. How to best answer that?" The Bishop looked to the vaulted ceiling in their quiet corner for a moment and then glanced at the priests to make sure they were still out of earshot. "I think I always suspected something grander was at work within the Realm. It was not a simple matter. It was just a few tantalizing bits here and there. Words from priests returning from the villages and towns. Strange happenings that many attempted to credit to the work of the Lord. But I knew better – these were not the miracles the Lord typically conducted in the Realm. And so, after many years, the tapestry was built for me, as it were." The Bishop smiled, looked over to his wine cup and took it into his grasp. "A scant word here and there in books – you could find them if you knew what to look for. I won't pretend it was easy and I doubt anyone else could have put it all together. It took me years." The Bishop gave a small smile and took a sip of his wine.
Benjamin regarded his friend with some fondness. Only this man could have figured it out, he knew. He took pleasure in such pursuits and that he admitted that it took him so many years was a comfort to him. It meant that the Tree was still secure and still safe. He relaxed, thumbed open the book and looked at the contents. A passable copy. Clearly a forgery, since no life magycs emanated from it. Whomever had created the copy had to have had an original in their hands and for long enough to painstakingly copy each image and word. The five books were held in their most sacred groves and hidden from all eyes except those of the order. He would need to study this copy and find clues to its maker. He had to discover whether anyone else knew about them.
"I haven't been able to determine its maker, Benjamin," answered the Bishop to his unspoken question. Benjamin sighed at the powers of this man's mind. He would have made a great druid had the Earth Mother granted him her powers. "Perhaps you can, hmm?"
"Perhaps, perhaps," murmured the druid and he closed the book and set it on the table beside him. He raised his own mug and tapped the rim to the Bishop's. "A toast then, to integrity and honesty."
The Bishop smiled and visibly relaxed at the words as he drained the last of his wine in one swallow. He bowed his head in reflection.
A long moment of silence passed between them, each lost in his own thoughts. Benjamin calmly stared at the stop of the Bishop's head until finally, he looked up.
"You need to win the debate, you said?" he asked, reminding the Bishop of his earlier statement.
"Yes, I'm afraid. You must concede. The realm is poised for a terrible time should the Church lose the debate. You must know this."
"Yes, I'm afraid I do. I would like nothing better than to concede to you, but I fear that I may be unable to without seeming to be purposely throwing the debate." Benjamin looked sad. "I've word from the towns and villages. They have always been strong to the Word – you know that. Well, it seems that the city is being quickly converted over. Fights have broken out all over the city in the past few weeks. Church fighting the Word and the Word fighting the Church. And it's only getting worse."
The Bishop nodded. "I've been getting reports on the increased violence particularly right after our debate sessions. Word of the results is now spreading like wildfire. But what concerns me the most is the King. His temper, already terrible as you know, it's becoming increasingly erratic. The Archbishop does nothing to help. He's withdrawn from the public eye as much as possible and this, I'm afraid, is only fuelling the anger in the streets." The Bishop wrung his hands. "He's no longer meeting with me to discuss strategies and options. He has closed himself off from all save his personal attendant, a friend and priest from his childhood."
Benjamin sipped his wine. He had the same reports. He had also seen the same anger in the eyes of the King. And for good reason, his power was tied to the grace of the Church. This debate was becoming a true threat to the balance. He had spent hours discussing strategies with the Cill Darae. Little had come from those sessions; she seemed distracted, distant and upset about the whole issue. She had claimed that Gaea had a plan. Nothing more. It was so frustrating!
The Bishop reached out and touched Benjamin's hand and drew him out of his thoughts. "My friend, should the Word win the debate, chaos and anarchy will descend throughout the Realm. The only solution is for the Church to win. Sanity will return in time. It will secure the King's power and provide stability to the masses."
"I've had similar reports. And with the King unbalanced, he needs something to stabilise the politics..."
"Hmm. It's far worse than you may know. The Church has come under direct attack in the villages to the North. Buildings have been burned. People killed."
"I'm afraid the balance of the Realm is upset. The pendulum has swung too far away from the Church. I think we both know what needs to be done..." Benjamin grew quiet.
He would direct the Tree to restore the balance. And not a moment too soon. First I would need to concede the debate. At that thought Benjamin felt the presence of the Earth Mother turn her attention directly on the library. Stillness filled the world. It was if a thousand eyes all turned to stare at you and Benjamin felt infinitesimally unimportant and small. A faint smell of loam and flowers caught his nose and he looked around in alarm. Only someone with Gaea's powers could sense her, unless you were very sensitive. Animals and insects always felt her. It was people that seemed almost numb to nature and Gaea. Sweat formed under his collar and he pulled it away from his neck.
"Yes, you were saying?" asked the Bishop, looking at his friend in surprise and unaware of the focus filling the room. He swivelled his head around to try and catch what Benjamin was looking for. Just then a chill filled the room, and the Bishop rubbed his arms for warmth. He could see the two priests nearby look up in confusion and peer around the room with frowns.
Benjamin suddenly felt as if every hair on his body stood up on end. His teeth rattled in his mouth and he was unable to speak as waves of power flowed through the library and his body. Each pulse of power reverberated in his skull and stole his breath away. Motes of dust seemed to freeze in the air, and glinted in the candlelight. Time seemed to slow and then stop.
FREAMHAIGH. YOU MUST NOT CONCEDE. OBEY.
The voice was a roar in his head and he blinked against the enormity of it. The Bishop sat, oblivious across from him with concern starting to etch into his face. As quickly as the words and the presence of power came, they were gone. Benjamin felt as if he was dropped from a great height and he reached out to the desk to steady himself, lest he fall out of his chair. Sweat poured down his face. With an effort he forced himself to draw in a breath.
"My friend," said the Bishop, leaning forward to grasp the hand on the desk corner. "You've gone white as bone. Are you alright?"
"Y–yes," he said slowly, his tongue feeling too large for his mouth. "Just give me a moment." Internally, Benjamin was reeling. The Earth Mother had only spoken once to him before and that was at his inauguration as Freamhaigh. Gaea had simply and quietly said to him "Obey me in all things" and then she had gone silent. He had felt her presence almost daily in small ways but never words and never with such intensity. Gaea simply did not interact with the world in that way – she was the world – and he and this entire realm were just one tiny part of her. Suddenly, the Freamhaigh was very afraid. Something terrible would be sure to follow. Gaea did nothing in half measures. She also knew nothing of pain and death. It was all about balance, regardless of cost to individuals.
It was the purpose of the Tree to maintain that balance and protect humanity from Gaea.
"I'm sorry, Bishop," he said quickly and rose and steadied himself once more with a hand to the table when his head swam. "I have to go. We will talk about this soon, I promise."
Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the Draoi manuscript copy and hurried out of the library. He felt
unsteady on his feet but pushed himself to move quickly. The two priests rose in alarm and reached out to help him but he pushed them away. He had to find the Cill Darae. The High Priestess of the Tree would need to commune with him and try to determine what was happening. Then his wife, a wonderful Stoc and his daughter Belle, a new Duilleog with great promise, would need to leave the city and head to the woods and the nearby commune. That, perhaps, would be the hardest thing to manage. They would not want to leave him behind.
As Benjamin rushed out of the library, he failed to notice a thin man emerge from the deep shadows of the massive library bookcases. The man's eyes were locked on the book Benjamin carried under his arm. The man was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and all the hairs on his body were standing on end and he rubbed a hand down each arm to calm them.
He had felt the presence of God in the room only a moment ago and he was still lost in the joy that it had brought him. He had heard the word of God. The ecstasy of the moment remained strong within him still. He felt a new energy within him and he could sense the world around him much clearer than before.
He had listened in to everything the Bishop and the Advisor had spoken of. Each week he eavesdropped in on their strange conversations and reported back to the Archbishop. The Tree, they had said. This was new and might explain what had been happening during the Great Debate. He had to learn more, and he needed to get his hands on that book.
Seth Farlow grinned to himself. This was something he was uniquely talented at doing. The Archbishop would be pleased.
Seventeen
Munsten, 879 A.C.
BENJAMIN WAS NERVOUS. He noticed the Bishop smiling down at him as he shuffled his speaking notes high up on the podium and he smiled back at the Bishop. Benjamin looked out over the massive audience that filled the Church. Attendance was high once the word had spread that today was likely to be the end of the debate.
Leaf and Branch (New Druids Series Vol 1 & 2) Page 28
