by Rowe, Andrew
“Certainly, I’ve met the man myself,” Lydia said. “He only looks to be about thirty or thirty-five. The people of Orlyn say he is a god. Do you have a reason to believe otherwise?”
“Oh, yes,” Jonan said, grinning and folding the fingers of his bound hands together. “I have discovered who he once was.”
Lydia adjusted her glasses again, her gaze shifting to the side for the first time. Nervousness, perhaps? Jonan couldn’t quite tell.
“What have you found?” Lydia asked, her tone sounding more suspicious, rather than curious. She looked back to Jonan, pressing her lips together.
Perhaps I stumbled upon a line of conversation I should have avoided, but it’s too late now.
“We believe Edon was once Redeemer Donovan Tailor,” Jonan said.
“A former Priest of Sytira of some repute,” Lydia added, speaking to Taelien, and then turning back toward Jonan. “Go on.”
“We believe he is preserving his life by stealing the lives of others.”
Lydia folded her arms across her chest. While she was trying to look taciturn, Jonan thought he caught a flicker of something – concern, perhaps? – in her eyes. “And what led you to that conclusion?”
Careful, now. Too late to back out, but if she discovers too much, I might end up eating a yard of steel instead of that delicious bread.
Jonan took a deep breath, considering where to begin.
“About twenty years ago, Donovan Tailor was expelled from the priesthood of Sytira for heresy. As a Sytiran, I’m sure you’ve heard about it,” Jonan offered, gesticulating dismissively with one of his bound hands.
“Certainly,” Lydia said. “He claimed that because our gods were once mortals, our priests should aspire to achieve godhood themselves. The viewpoint gained some popularity among his contemporaries, and his superiors in the priesthood most likely saw it as a threat to their control. He published an essay on the subject, and he was excommunicated shortly thereafter.”
Jonan raised an eyebrow. He had been expecting more religious fervor.
The spectacled man shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Yes, precisely,” he said. “Excommunication robbed Donovan of many of his friends, allies, and resources. He left Velthryn and traveled for a handful of years, eventually making his way to Keldris. That was where the priesthood of Vaelien took note of him.”
Taelien looked up from nibbling on his bread, gave Jonan a brief quizzical look, and then went back to eating.
“Donovan Tailor was in Keldris to beg for a meeting with the city’s ruler, King Haldariel. Tailor sent word that he had discovered something of vast import. Knowing that Donovan was a former priest, Haldariel wisely invited one of our priests to the meeting to help evaluate Donovan’s claims.”
Lydia nodded. “I take it Donovan was insulted?”
Jonan shrugged. “I assume he was, but the meeting didn’t end explosively. From our priest’s report, Donovan claimed he had discovered the source of the power of the gods. He planned to make himself a god, and he offered godhood to Haldariel in exchange for protection until he could complete the process.”
Taelien nodded along, looking interested in the tale, while Lydia’s expression began to darken.
“And what did Haldariel say?” Taelien asked.
“He refused, naturally,” Jonan replied. “The claim sounded preposterous. Our priest assumed that Donovan was attempting to hide from Sytiran assassins and hoping that the king’s protection would deter them.”
“The paladins of Sytira don’t have assassins.” Lydia grimaced in distaste.
Jonan shook his head. “Regardless, Tailor was clearly afraid of someone. If not from the priesthood, perhaps he had made other enemies. Power rarely comes without conflict,” he noted, pausing to invite her to dispute his point.
Lydia simply half-nodded thoughtfully, brushing a stray hair away from her eyes. “Continue.”
“Donovan pleaded at first, but when it was clear the rejection was final, he departed from the city. Over the next several days, a half dozen Rethri were reported missing. No bodies were found, no ransoms demanded. By the time someone thought to connect the disappearances with Donovan Tailor, his trail had long vanished. Those Rethri were never found,” Jonan explained.
The Rethri were a people with no sclera – or white portion - in their eyes. It was commonly debated among scholars whether or not Rethri and humans were the same species. While their eyes were the only way to reliably tell a Rethri apart from a human on sight, Rethri biology had some other distinctions. The most well-known of these is that each Rethri had a strong connection to a single dominion, and that this connection was reinforced during a secret coming of age ritual.
Rethri were as common as humans in Liadra, where Jonan spent most of his life, but he had never seen one of their coming of age rituals.
“And you believe that Tailor took these Rethri to use in some sort of sacrificial sorcery?” Lydia inquired.
Jonan nodded. “Yes, but only because of recent events. Let me explain.”
“Go on,” Taelien urged him, picking up another slice of bread to eat. There was an odd gleam in the swordsman’s blue eyes, a hint of interest that had been absent when the conversation started. Jonan took a mental note of that, wondering what had aroused the man’s attention.
“It was about two years later that Orlyn, which had never previously been affiliated with any of the major religions, proclaimed that the city had a new official religion. King Osric claimed that he had been visited by a new god, Edon, and that he would be the city’s patron deity. When Osric passed away, the then-Queen Tylan – became the queen regent. Osric and Tylan had a son, Byron, but he was just a baby – he couldn’t legally take the throne. The city has been always strictly patriarchal, so even with Tylan ostensibly ruling, Edon’s influence has grown steadily over time,” Jonan explained.
“And Edon’s new religion espoused a belief in ‘ascension through worship’, that anyone could become a god through sufficient service,” Lydia added, “Similar to what Donovan was attempting to encourage as a priest. I’ve seen the connections drawn between the Edonate religion and Donovan’s treatises before. It’s not an uncommon subject of discussion. The key difference lies in that Donovan claimed that people should seize their own path to divinity, whereas Edon’s religion was more about him offering godhood directly to people who pleased him.”
“A better business model, to be certain,” Jonan said with a grin. “We believe that Donovan eventually came to the conclusion that he could use his discovery – whatever it was – as powerful leverage. King Osric most likely accepted the offer that King Haldariel refused – or maybe Tylan did, and had her husband killed. After all, now she is worshipped as one of the four ‘gods’ of Orlyn.”
Taelien finished a piece of bread and rubbed his fingers together over the plate, ridding them of crumbs. “That makes some sense, but why are you investigating this now? It sounds like your priesthood had this information years ago.”
Jonan nodded. “About seven months ago, Edon paid a diplomatic visit to the city of Selyr – another city in Rethri territory.”
“I’ve been there,” Taelien said with a nod, drawing a dubious look from Lydia. “What happened during the visit?”
“Edon visiting any other city was unusual enough in itself to warrant attention. Part of the key to Edon’s claim that he deserves worship is that he actively watches over his people, tending to the sick and performing miracles. For that reason, he rarely leaves Orlyn – at least not publicly, or for extended periods of time,” Jonan began.
“Edon offered to extend his protection to the city, claiming that he would assign Myros, his god of battle, to be their patron if they adopted his faith. The city council refused, their ties to Vaelien running far too deep. Edon left shortly thereafter, but not alone.”
Lydia tapped her fingers against the table. “There were Rethri disappearances again,” she surmised aloud.
“Precisely. And
more of them this time – nearly twenty citizens disappeared. Obviously, this could no longer be a coincidence, and a thorough investigation was launched. As I’m certain you know, the priests of Vaelien have a military branch, which we call the Thornguard. Among the Thornguard, there are specialists in many types of sorcery, including tracking and information gathering. They found no evidence of kidnapping. Rather, it appeared that these Rethri picked up and left the city without telling a single body. They were, of course, headed for Orlyn.”
“So, this Edon was recruiting followers among the Rethri, then?” Taelien asked.
“Possibly, but not by simply talking to them. The Thornguard managed to catch some of the Rethri on the road before they reached Orlyn. The people the Thornguard talked to refused to give their reasons for heading to Orlyn, claiming it was personal business. The Thornguard checked for signs of thought sorcery, but they didn’t find any. Edon wasn’t traveling with the Rethri, and there were no signs of any kind of conflict having occurred, so the Thornguard went back to Selyr to report,” Jonan explained.
“The Thornguard simply let the Rethri go to Orlyn?” Taelien asked.
Jonan nodded. “There was no evidence that they were being coerced, and the Thornguard had no legal authority to act outside of Kesite lands, anyway.”
“Did the Rethri travelers show any indications of new wealth?” Lydia asked.
Jonan furrowed his brow thoughtfully. “I don’t recall anything about that in the report. It’s a good question, though. I doubt they were just being paid to go to Orlyn. Their families seemed universally unaware of the spontaneous traveling, with the exception of a couple cases where family members were traveling together. If it was just about money, there would be no reason for such secrecy.”
“Interesting,” Lydia mused. “Very interesting.”
“It gets better still. After the Thornguard returned, we sent a diplomatic party to Orlyn. The city of Orlyn claimed that none of the Rethri we listed had been registered as citizens in the city. One of our ambassadors tried to arrange for a meeting with Edon, but he was turned away,” Jonan explained.
Lydia nodded. “I remember hearing about an ambassador from Selyr being in the city, and I wondered why, but he left in such a hurry that I never had a chance to meet him myself.”
“And so,” Jonan said, folding his still-bound hands together in front of him, “I have been sent to investigate these disappearances. We have no conclusive evidence that the Rethri are being sacrificed, but it seems to be an answer that provides a unified answer to multiple questions.”
“Does it, though?” Lydia asked. “People have been trying to research methods of achieving immortality for centuries. At least five other sorcerers in our time have found ways to extend their lifespans, although the two members of House Theas may be using the same method.”
Lydia paused, grimacing. “Frankly, as gruesome as it sounds, sacrificing lives to fuel your own is one of the most obvious things to attempt. The priests of Lysandri have a tradition of asking a sorcerer to try to transfer their remaining life to another when they are dying, for example. Numerous methods have been attempted, and none of them have produced any measurable results.”
Manipulating scholars of sorcery is so much harder than dealing with civilians, Jonan considered, measuring his words carefully. “Certainly, I agree with you. I am not claiming this is the only possible answer, merely one probable one. Consider the possibility that Donovan discovered a method of transferring life, but it is simply very inefficient. Perhaps it only extends his life a single year for each person he sacrifices. It may also require Rethri, specifically, since they live much longer than humans.”
Lydia shrugged. “That’s not outside the dominion of possibility,” she admitted. “But you still have several key gaps in your information. You have established that Edon and Donovan have similar, but not identical, ideologies. Rethri disappeared both when Donovan visited Keldris and when Edon visited Selyr – those are strong similarities of circumstance, but they do not confirm that these two are the same person. Perhaps Donovan shared his secrets with this Edon, and Edon either helped him or stole whatever methods Donovan taught him.”
Jonan cracked his knuckles. “That is absolutely possible. Since they are both male, and appeared to be of similar ages when Edon first appeared, it simply seems easier to assume they are the same person until we find evidence otherwise. We have no records of Donovan Tailor being anywhere else after Edon appeared – do you?”
Lydia shrugged. “I can’t say for certain without consulting our records, I don’t have quite everything memorized.”
Jonan chuckled, assuming Lydia was being hyperbolic, but she didn’t join him in his laughter. After a moment of awkward silence, Jonan blinked and righted his thoughts. “Of...course. Well, if you do have a chance to check any records that would be most helpful in the investigation.”
“I have not precisely agreed to help you yet,” Lydia reminded him.
Taelien glanced at her. “You would consider abandoning these missing Rethri to whatever fate Edon has in store for them?”
Jonan mentally thanked Taelien for his innocence.
Lydia sighed pointedly, looking back toward Taelien. “You can’t take everything this man is saying as god-spoken.” She turned to Jonan. “No offense intended.”
“Of course,” Jonan said, waving his bound hands dismissively. “By all means, confirm my claims on your own. In fact, I’d prefer it. I always try to do the same myself.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Taelien admitted, his hand floating to the hilt of his sword. It didn’t seem to be a hostile gesture, or even a conscious one. Jonan surmised that it was a nervous gesture, and the weapon comforted him.
“I have contacts and records I can consult, Taelien,” Lydia offered, adjusting her glasses. “Your priority should still be to exit the city as quickly as possible without detection.”
Taelien shook his head. “I will not bend on this matter. I need to find Erik Tarren before I leave the city. Perhaps he can even provide us with more information on this Edon – he is, as you have both noted, a renowned scholar. Now that I have disguised the weapon, I should be much less conspicuous.”
“Actually,” Jonan said, “I’d really rather you not bring anyone else into this. If you want to find your scholar, that’s great – but if you do find him, please don’t consult him unless I ask you to. I’m entrusting you with very sensitive information here. If Edon discovered that I was looking into his method of obtaining his power, it could easily get me killed.” Jonan gave Lydia a meaningful look.
“I have no intention of turning you in, at least not immediately,” Lydia said. “If your motive is truly to investigate disappearing civilians, I have no objections to cooperating with you for the time being. Your investigation, however, is not my primary concern.”
She turned to look at Taelien. “If you insist on staying in the city, we will have to find you some new clothes and make you a cover identity.”
Jonan scratched at his chin. “You know, Lydia, you keep mentioning that Taelien should be leaving the city. Aren’t you at even greater risk? If you just broke him out of prison, people are probably looking for both of you, and you’ll be more easily recognized.”
Lydia shook her head. “The people in the palace would have just seen me walking around with Istavan, which is perfectly normal. Istavan himself is a bit of a risk, but I’ve taken some precautions with him. He’s always been reclusive – I don’t think he’ll go to the city guard or the sorcerers even if he suspects I was involved in the prison break. The evidence in the jail cell will look like Taelien broke his chains, which wouldn’t require an accomplice. And I never had the key to his cell.”
Jonan briefly pondered how she had gotten into the cell without a key, but it wasn’t really relevant at the moment.
“It’s a risk, you’re right, but it’s necessary. I’m not going to leave Taelien alone here.”
Taelien frowned. “You don’t have to take any risks for my sake. Now that I’m aware of the situation, I can take care of myself.”
She gave Taelien a conciliatory glance. “I’m sure you’re a very competent swordsman, but you have to understand that the sword you’re carrying is the single most important object to my faith. Leaving you alone in the city with the Sae’kes would be unforgivable. Especially considering Myros is going to be looking for you.”
Jonan’s eyes widened at that. “Myros? What, why?”
“One of the sorcerers called him in. He should be here within a few days.”
“Um, I don’t like saying this, but you probably should both just leave in that case,” Jonan mumbled. Vaelien curse it, why can’t things ever be simple? Myros getting his hands on that Sae’kes would be colossally bad.
“Why are you so concerned? Is Myros known for some sort of divine tracking capabilities or some such?” Taelien stretched his neck from side to side.
Lydia shook her head. “No, he’s the local god of battle. It’s not that he’s known for any particular type of sorcery. If Myros arrives and you haven’t already been caught, he’s going to throw the entire city’s resources at finding you. I might be able to slow that process down somewhat, but Jonan is right – we’d be smarter to leave before he arrives.”
Taelien tightened his jaw. “Fine. I don’t like it, but we can plan to leave before Myros arrives. In the meantime, we can help Jonan and look for Erik Tarren.”
“You’ll still need a way to avoid notice in the meantime. The house we’re staying in belongs to a man about your size,” Jonan offered. “You can probably fit into some of his clothes.”
“Are those really yours to offer?” Taelien inquired dubiously.
Jonan nodded. “Yes, everything here is at my disposal.”
“Very well, then,” Taelien said. “I suppose we should free your hands.”
“I’ll do it,” Lydia said, surprising Jonan. He had not expected her to agree. She moved gracefully over to him and began fidgeting with the knots.
