Hederick the Theocrat v-4

by Ellen Dodge Severson

  Hederick's voice trailed off, and he felt the strength drain from him. The fallen priest was laughing! Mirth so filled Tarscenian that tears streamed from his eyes. He fell backward against the rug, chortling.

  "By the True Gods!" Tarscenian roared. "He's as crazy as his mother!"

  Ancilla reached across and placed her hand comfortingly on Hederick's arm. "You could not have seen a god that doesn't exist, little brother," she murmured. "You are hysterical. Forgive Tarscenian; he's had no sleep in a week. Calm yourself. Perhaps when you have rested, you will come to see, as Tarscenian has…"

  Hederick snatched up the dragon figurine and leaped 1 to his feet. Ancilla grabbed for the charm, but Hederick held it away from her, eyes flashing.

  "I saw Sauvay, I tell you!" he roared. "He warned me about you, witch. It was Sauvay, and he spoke only to me. He praised me, Ancilla. He praised me! Whether you accept it or not, the Old Gods are gone. I will lead the followers of the New Gods, and together we will annihilate magic and cleanse the world. It is ordained!"

  Alarmed by the boy's words, Tarscenian stopped laughing and sat up.

  Hederick, clutching the dragon in his left hand, launched himself at his former mentor. Hederick heard Ancilla chanting, and out of the corner of his eye, saw her fling dried herbs in the fire and move her hands in a spell. Sauvay guided his blow; Hederick's punch knocked the priest back on his elbows.

  Blood dripped from one corner of Tarscenian's mouth, but he seemed not to notice. "The magic?" Tarscenian asked Ancilla apprehensively as he stood and pulled her to her feet.

  Hederick's sister was noticeably upset. "I tried, my love," she replied disconsolately. "Nothing…"

  "Magic will not work against a true believer, you fools!" Hederick thundered. They fell back a step, surprised at his vehemence.

  "What shall we do, Ancilla?" Tarscenian pressed.

  "Hederick has the dragon," she whispered back. "We must get it!"

  "Sauvay!" Hederick bellowed to the skies. "Kill them both!" He yanked the cloth from a table and whisked it toward the fireplace. The fringe touched the flames, and soon Hederick was whirling the blazing cloth like a flag. The curtains caught fire, and likewise the sleeve of Tarscenian's robe, but Ancilla's silk robe seemed impervious. "Fire purifies!" Hederick shouted.

  The roof thatch seeped smoke. "We must leave, Tarscenian!" Ancilla cried. "I'm bound by my vow to him. I can't hurt my brother. I am powerless!"

  "Of course you are, witch," Hederick snarled. Now it was his turn to laugh. "I am the righteous one. You have seduced Tarscenian away from virtue. You have doomed both of you. You are…"

  Ancilla hurled more of the herbs into the fire. "Ranay nansensharn," she chanted desperately. Again her fingers danced wicked figures. "Ranay nansensharn."

  Hederick threw himself at Tarscenian and Ancilla.

  One moment the two traitors stood together, arms entwined, surrounded by flame. The next moment they were gone. Hederick found himself sprawled on the smoldering rug before the mantel. He escaped from the evil dwelling just as the roof began to collapse.

  It seemed as if no time at all had passed when Hederick returned to the sleeping village of Garlund. The glow from the flames that were eagerly devouring Ancilla's cottage and the copse around it lit up the sky. The moons had set. Hederick lit a lantern and set it on the back of a wagon in the courtyard.

  "People of Garlund, arise!" he shouted. Sauvay was watching over him; his voice had never been so deep and confident. The boy crawled up onto the back of the wagon so that he was gazing down upon the sleepy Garlunders when they spilled out of their houses and into the village courtyard.

  "A great moment has arrived!" Hederick called. "The New Gods are about to present us with a precious gift!"

  In every face, from the youngest to the eldest, Hederick detected godlessness. How could he have been so blind, creeping into houses one by one to find evidence of individual crimes? It would have been better to search for those who hadn't sinned.

  "A gift!" Hederick shouted again.

  Voices churned around him. "What's the boy doing, waking us at such an hour?" "What's wrong?" "Is someone hurt?" "It's Venessi's boy, causing trouble again." "Where's the priest? The lad answers to him now." "Tarscenian is gone. The prayer house is empty. His things are missing."

  Hederick raised his hands. "The false priest has abandoned us. He's betrayed us and joined the witch, Ancilla."

  "What's the idiot talking about?" "Tarscenian was as devout as I." "Send the boy back to bed." "Where's his mother?" "Let Venessi deal with him." "But where is the priest?" "Has Hederick hurt him?" "That weasel, hurt anyone?" The voices surrounded Hederick, firming his resolve.

  At last the boy's mother pushed through the crowd, angrily shoving the villagers out of her way. "What are you doing, Hederick?" Venessi snapped, scowling. "Haven't you sinned enough? Must I banish you permanently? See where your willfulness has gotten us! Tiolanthe will punish you!" She reached into the wagon, but Hederick easily slipped away from her grasp.

  "Venessi"-Hederick would call her "mother" no more, for the Seeker gods were his parents now-"Tiolanthe is a myth." He sneered down at her, glad that at last the tables were turned. She was beneath him, and powerless to hurt him now. "You imagined him-to lead these people into sin and satisfy your greed. But Tiolanthe does not exist, and never did."

  "Hederick, get down!" Venessi ordered. "You are a mere boy. That heathen priest has filled you with grandiose ideas. Get down, I say!"

  "No."

  "Tarscenian has fled like a cheat and a thief," she continued, satisfaction ripe in her tones. "I knew he would. Tiolanthe will forgive you, Hederick, if you stop this now. Even I will forgive you. Recant at once."

  Again he refused.

  "Then you will die," she announced with smug satisfaction. "I'll not permit such viciousness, not when I can so easily prevent it." Venessi pointed to three of the largest men in the crowd of villagers. "Peren Volen. Willad Oberl. Jerad Oberl. Fetch my worthless son!"

  The men hurried to do Venessi's bidding. "Sauvay, god of vengeance, stand for me," Hederick prayed. He expected Sauvay to strike the three dead, but they advanced up onto the wagon, towering over him with balled fists. All looked delighted with their mission. "Sauvay, your servant awaits," he whispered. "Come to me now."

  There was no rushing wind, no circle of brilliance. Sauvay had said he'd be with Hederick as long as the boy was faithful, but now there was no sign of the god. Had Hederick weakened? Was Sauvay angry with him for

  some reason? Perhaps this was a test of his resolve. "I will show myself worthy, Sauvay," he murmured.

  Hederick searched his pockets for some weapon. There was nothing but the glittering dragon he'd taken from the witch. Garlunders were simple people, he thought, perhaps the gaudy thing would distract them like crows, just long enough for him to escape.

  He cradled the dragon in his bare hand. It felt warm to the touch. "Stop!" he cried. He raised one arm to throw the dragon-then halted, stunned.

  All the villagers, Venessi included, looked at him as though entranced. The bauble was bathed in an eerie glow. A miracle!

  "The sign!" Hederick breathed. "Sauvay is with me! Blessed be the Seeker gods," he intoned, raising his voice. "People of Garlund!"

  They gaped. Some actually beamed inanely. "Look," said a woman who'd berated him earlier, "it's young Hederick. Hasn't he grown! Venessi must be proud."

  Venessi emitted a beatific smile. "Certainly, Marta. Hederick is the joy of my life. All my trials become nothing when I see his triumph. Everything I have done, I have done for him. I am blessed."

  Now all were speaking, smiling, pointing. "What a pious young man!" "Aren't we lucky to have a saint among us." "He is destined for great acts." "I always saw promise in the lad." "He has been set apart for a higher calling." "Blessed be the Seeker gods!"

  They cheered, and the boy who stood above them felt the power of their acclamation. Sauvay had been bountiful beyond Hederi
ck's imagining. He stroked the dragon and sighed a prayer of thanks.

  "People of Garlund," he repeated, purposely pitching his voice low. The villagers had to fall silent to hear his every word. "We are at a holy crossroads tonight. Venessi has led us down a false path. For a long time we followed

  her fraudulent gods, but the real gods, the gods of the Seekers, cry out for justice. Venessi deserves punishment. She cares nothing for us."

  Frowns fell across their dull faces like flickering lamplight, and they began to mutter. "Lad's right." "Venessi would see us damned before she'd admit to being only a common woman." "She's too proud." "She murdered her own husband!" "See her fine house-so much nicer than ours." "We fed her, served her, and for what?" "She must think we are fools." "Cast her out! Banish her!"

  "People!" Hederick interjected forcefully when their emotions had been raised to fever pitch. All heads turned his way. Venessi backed away from the wagon, but two women caught her arms and prevented further retreat.

  "This woman tricked you into duplicity and sin!" Hederick cried, pointing at the woman who had been his tormentor for thirteen years.

  "That's true," one man shouted. "Listen to Hederick."

  'This woman used your piety against you!"

  "That's so," another man responded.

  "This woman stole from you!"

  "Yes."

  "She starved you and your families!"

  "Vile witch."

  "This woman endangered your souls by leading you to a deity she knew to be false-and by spurning the very gods who could redeem you!"

  Peren Volen spoke from behind him. "She is evil," he said.

  "This woman led her own daughter to witchcraft, sent her away to study the black arts!"

  "She is evil." Jerad Oberl added his voice.

  "This woman slew her own husband!"

  "She is evil," Willad Oberl agreed.

  "And you would do no more than banish her?" Hederick's eyes blazed, and he raised his hands before the crowd.

  "Kill her!" Peren and the Oberls howled.

  "You would leave her alive to lead others into blasphemy?"

  "Kill her!"

  "The Seeker gods watch you now, people of Garlund, to see if you will prove your faith. Do you love the New Gods, villagers of Garlund? Do you fear them, adore them?"

  The people screamed and shouted. They danced, leaping into the night air as though ecstacy forced them to take vigorous action or die.

  "Kill the sinner!" Hederick shouted. He swept his hand toward Venessi. She struggled against the women who held her, then cowered as strong, determined hands twisted her arms and vicious fingers pinched and pulled at her.

  "Let not such an evildoer remain alive to infect you and your children. Kill her!"

  With a roar, the crowd fell upon Venessi, drowning out her screams with their cries of righteous rage. Hederick caught one last glimpse of his mother's terrified face, then she was swept under clawlike hands and booted feet like a leaf in a whirlwind.

  At length, the people drew back. Some looked bewildered, as though they had awakened only that moment to find Venessi inexplicably trampled and beaten to death on the ground before them.

  "People of Garlund." Hederick held the dragon aloft and offered another silent prayer to Sauvay. "See what you have done," he remonstrated quietly. "This dear woman lived only for you. She risked her life bringing you out of the decay of Caergoth to the richness of these plains. Venessi gave up her beloved husband for you because he had sinned and no longer could set the example she knew you needed. She sent her daughter away for the same reason: to keep you safe. It was through her actions that you, the people of Garlund, came to the altar of the New Gods. She tried her utmost to warn you about the false priest, yet you have so little love in your hearts that you…"

  Hederick sighed, gesturing at the body. He clasped the dragon so tightly that the diamonds cut his hand; tears welled in his eyes. He let a few drops spill onto his cheeks. "She was my mother, never forget." He forced more tears to flow, and several villagers began to cry. All avoided looking at Venessi's dead body.

  "This is murder," Hederick whispered, so piercingly that all could hear him. "You have sinned, people of Garlund. You know such a heinous act cannot be expiated by prayer and fasting, or by sacrifices and gifts to the gods and their priests. There is only one punishment for such a crime.

  "Willad, Jerad, Peren, attend me." The three men straightened as if hypnotized. "I order you, in the name of Sauvay, god of power and vengeance, to execute the sinners of this village." To the villagers, Hederick said, "I order you, in the name of Sauvay and the Seeker pantheons, to accept your just punishment."

  The villagers stood, sheeplike, awaiting their fate. Hederick rejoiced inwardly to Sauvay.

  The three men set silently to work. Not one villager ran or struggled. The Oberl brothers and Peren Volen strangled the life's breath out of each. Frideline Bacque, who'd worked so hard to attract Peren Volen, did not even blink when he killed her.

  When there were but the three men left, Hederick ordered Peren to slay the Oberls. Then, at Hederick's command, Peren Volen walked obediently down to the river and drowned himself, and the people of Garlund were no more.

  Soon Hederick had the Oberls' best horse harnessed to the wagon. A short time later, the back of the vehicle was piled with items for his travels. Then he set fire to Gar-lund.

  "Fire purifies," he murmured, reveling in the heat and cleansing power of the blaze. Once again flames lit Heder-ick's way as he left a place of sin. Soon he and the horse and wagon were miles away, and the sun had begun to rise.

  "Think of the converts I can bring to the Seekers, and to Sauvay!" he whispered to himself. He wrapped the dragon figurine in a scrap of leather, tied a thong to it, and slipped it around his neck, inside his shirt.

  Hederick faced the world alone, but he knew a god watched over him.

  For more than three decades Hederick traveled the lands, a wandering Seeker priest, bringing the words of the New Gods to the people. The Praxis, his constant companion, served as both inspiration and confirmation that his purpose was preordained by the gods themselves. As he grew older and more experienced in the ways of the world and its peoples, his gift of oratory grew accordingly. Soon he was able to assess a crowd in moments and know how best to handle it. Some needed fire and brimstone, some only gentle persuasion.

  And just as he made good use of his gift for speaking, he made use, also, of the sleight-of-hand tricks that Tarscenian had taught him so many years ago.

  Fame followed him. Hederick, the holy man of the north, converted hundreds of thousands of people to the New Gods.

  The devout cheered as Hederick entered their towns. He always took care to hold the Diamond Dragon against his palm as he entered a village. Time and again, townspeople vied to offer him lodging for as long as he wanted it, presented him with fine clothes, and fed him the very best their tables had to offer. He lived well-as was proper for a prophet of the gods. He was the favored of Sauvay, after all.

  Always, upon arrival in a new location, Hederick was careful to ferret out the irretrievable sinners. The Diamond Dragon, macaba root, and Sauvay helped him ease them out of this world. They were poor and rich, of low status and high, men and women, young and old.

  No one stood above Seeker doctrine.

  Finally, when Hederick was well into middle age, Sauvay sent the Highseeker Elistan to persuade him to come to Haven to join the main body of Seekers. Elistan seemed to have no awareness of Sauvay's hand in his mission-a sign, to Hederick, that much of the recognition Elistan had received was undeserved. Elistan told Hederick what the wandering priest already knew-that the Highseekers Council in Haven had need of his powers of oratory.

  The pious and crafty Hederick rose quickly in the Seeker hierarchy. He knew Seeker law well. It was a simple matter for him to have superiors removed for transgressions that few others had detected. Those few who were impervious to slander or blackmail succumb
ed readily to the poison of the macaba root.

  Through all of this, Hederick basked in the approval of Sauvay.

  "There," Eban said, dumping the huge scroll on the desk in the Great Library. Olven sat at the desk, quill pen in hand, before an empty piece of parchment. "I've done my part, and in only half a day! Hederick s background"-Eban lovingly patted the curl of paper-"all set down here in black and white. I could have gone on twice as long as I did. Oh, you should see the scrolls back there, you two! And the bound parchments. By the gods!" Eban whistled. "More books than I've seen in my life, all together in one room. It's absolutely amaz… Why, what's the matter?"

  Olven was looking sourly at the red-haired youth. Marya, leaning against a bookshelf, also scowled.

  "Your youthful enthusiasm is wonderful, child," she said sarcastically, "but we seem to have a problem."

  "We?" Eban echoed. "Me, too?"

  "We're in this together," she reminded him in a surly tone. "Loot"

  Eban followed her gesture and finally took in the empty parchment before the luckless Olven. "Nothing?" Eban cried, prompting a duet of "shhhh" from his fellow apprentices. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "You two have been here for four hours, and you haven't written a thing? Not a word? What have you been doing?"

  "Well, I sharpened all the quills," Olven muttered.

  "And I went for an extra supply of ink," Marya added mul-ishly. "We didn't have the luxury of writing down things that are already well in the past and skillfully recorded. We three have all done countless research papers, Eban; anyone can do that. Olven and I were in charge of writing the present-and the present as it occurs nowhere near Palanthas. That's considerably harder, I'd say." She sniffed.

  "And…?" Eban shot back. "What's happening?"

  "Nothing's happening," Olven mourned. He rested his forehead on the parchment and tore a piece of white fluff from the quill pen. "Astinus said to sit here. The history would come to us, Astinus said. But it hasn't. I thought it was magic. Now I don't think so. It's just a test, and I've failed."