"One of the novices' rooms" the monk explained. "I thought you'd prefer to have some light even if it’s a bit draughty. Now if you'd like to leave your packs here, I'll take you down to the refectory. It will be supper time soon and it's unwise to be late."
"I'm more interested in your news than your food, Vizzik," the tutor said quietly. "Can you talk openly here?"
The monk glanced involuntarily at the single doorway, then nodded. "Yes, if we speak quickly and quietly."
"Then tell me what's wrong."
Vizzik drew a deep breath and began. "I don't know exactly. Things were normal, until about four years ago. At that time one of the Summoners said that he wasn't sure about the authenticity of a novice he had sent to us."
The monk glanced at the other three, but continued when Idressin said he would explain anything unknown to them later. "We didn't know what to do. Not even Master Dzar. I mean, a Summoner unsure! It had never occurred before in the whole recorded history of the Brotherhood. Anyway we took the questionable novice. Nothing seemed wrong and he became a model member of the monastery. It appeared that the Summoner had been merely uncertain, not mistaken. In fact he was an exceptional pupil in every way. Not only did he excel at the psycho-physical exercises - he passed through the whole novitiate series in one year instead of the usual five - he was also cheerful, willing, obedient, humble, everything one would wish for in a Brother.
Then about two years ago we suddenly lost communication with the Summoners altogether. They sent word by messenger that the Dreams of Inquiry had ceased completely and they wished to know what was amiss at the monastery. We didn't know. Despite all our efforts there continued to be no communication and no Dreams. Then one day the flame in the sanctuary went out. You know its significance for us. It was the manifestation of everything of value here.
Master Dzar meditated for seven days and nights, and then announced that, since he was unable to discover the reasons for the disasters overtaking the Brotherhood, he would go into indefinite retreat and expend all the powers at his disposal, even to the death, to try to rekindle the flame. He’s near to death now and he hasn’t succeeded."
"He's been a long time dying." Idressin remarked almost flippantly. "Then he always was a tough old bird." Vizzik stared at him open-mouthed, shocked out of his immersion in the monastery's tragedies. "Come on, Vizzik. I'm sure there's more. Those young puppies today didn't try to murder us because the lightings's gone out in the sanctuary."
Vizzik looked hard at the tutor. "You always were irreverent at the most inappropriate times, Fadeen. But then reverence hasn't served us too well recently. Yes, you're right. Things didn't end there. Before Master Dzar went into retreat, he appointed Brother Pelterrin to take charge of the monastery. For a time life here was normal, or as normal as it could be in the circumstances. Then little by little Brother Behenna, that's the novice I mentioned to you, began to challenge Pelterrin's authority.
Well, you remember Pelterrin; a good man, I might even say a holy man, but not one with the inner strength to deal with this kind of conflict. And believe me, Behenna’s no cheeky upstart. There's real force there and he knows how to use it. The result’s been a strange sort of compromise. Pelterrin’s still the official head of the Brotherhood. He presides at the morning rituals, confirms the candidates at each level, and so on. But everyone knows the power here rests with Behenna. He's in charge of all the training, physical and spiritual, he allots all tasks, exercises, punishments, rewards. And he has a group of younger monks devoted to him personally, who inform him of all that passes and execute his orders."
"The two we met up on the East Pass …."
" ….are two of his disciples, yes. I don't know what they did, or attempted to do, to you; but they were surprised and frightened by your response. I haven't seen such animation on their faces for a long time. They tend to go about it a kind of trance most of the time. Come, we should go down to the refectory before someone comes up here to spy on us."
He turned in the doorway and added, "There are many here, like me, who still value the old ways of the Brotherhood. But we have no leader and individuals who protest are given terrible punishments. The bravest of them have 'gone into retreat' and never come out. You see now why we fear for Master Dzar."
*
The monk led them along gloomy passageways and down more stairs. All at once they came through an open doorway into an enormous room, lit by narrow windows piercing the left wall high up. There were hundreds of monks already there, seated silently at the tables. Vizzik led the newcomers to places on the right just inside the door and signed to them to sit down and not to talk.
A few moments later a group of about ten people entered by another doorway and took their seats at an empty table at the centre of the long wall opposite. An old man in a white robe remained standing and spoke some sort of ritual blessing to which the monks responded in unison. At that point he sat down and the quiet scene burst into activity as brothers from each table scurried off to fetch and serve the food.
At some signal, unseen by the travellers, all motion in the room suddenly stopped. In the ensuing silence a commanding voice was raised, sharp with question. It belonged to one of the grey-robed figures at the central table and it appeared to render the brothers paralysed with fear. No one moved or made a sound. Again the questions were asked, more insistently. This time two figures came slowly forward, and Caldar recognised the young monks they had encountered up at the pass. A swift one-sided interrogation appeared to follow, until they were dismissed, ashen-faced and visibly trembling.
Yet another harsh question was put to the silent assembly, and in response Vizzik rose to his feet. His face was impassive as he replied, but Caldar could see the slight tremor in his hands which he clasped behind his back. For some reason it was the old man in white who spoke next, and clearly the questioner decided to let the matter drop, albeit with reluctance. Vizzik sat down again with a sigh of relief.
"So, Brethren, we have unbidden guests in our midst." Caldar realised with a start that it was the same grey-robed man, speaking now in Shattun. "Mark well tomorrow what happens to those who disobey the orders of their superior. We will have a special assembly one hour after dawn and I will see to the punishment of the guards personally. Now we must decide what to do with our visitors." It was hard to make out much of the speaker in the dim light, but the voice was both powerful and threatening and Caldar felt a little ripple run up his spine.
"Oh, don't bother yourself about us." This was Idressin's voice loud, clear and cheerful. It pierced the menacing atmosphere like a startling ray of sunshine. "We don't really need entertaining; it’s fascinating enough to watch you all doing your brotherly business. Bit gloomy, but each to his own. Anyway we won't be here long enough to be much inconvenience to you."
"Indeed? You may be here longer than you expect." The words were almost a snarl. This man did not like being taken lightly.
Idressin laughed merrily and many a pair of eyes glanced surreptitiously his way in amazement. "No, no. It's most kind of you to offer, but we are in rather a hurry. It's nice and restful in your lovely little valley; but the great big world goes on turning out there you know, all hustle and bustle. It would be nice to stop for a while, but we really can't. By the way, there is one thing I'd like to do tomorrow before we move on. I would like to pay my respects to Master Dzar."
"No. That will be impossible. And ….."
"And by the way, " Idressin cut right across the monk's words, "what's happened to all the birds and game that used to live in the forest? Not even deer and rabbits to be seen."
"We make better use of them now. They serve a useful purpose in some of the exercises we set for the brethren."
"That's interesting. Of course you wouldn't break the Brotherhood Rule which forbids the killing of animals", then after a pause, the tutor added, "or men."
This time there was a protracted silence.
The words hung in the air like a chall
enge, and the brethren sat as if petrified, waiting for the response. It was a long time coming. When the grey-habited monk did finally reply, it was not what Caldar had expected.
"I see that you know something of the Brotherhood already, although it is a little out of date. I think maybe we can allow you to see Master Dzar after all. I can only allow one visitor. His condition is extremely weak. I'll arrange for you to be escorted to his retreat cell in the morning." Then he waved a finger and the serving of the meal abruptly resumed.
Supper was eaten in silence, so it was not until they had returned to their room that they were able to ask Idressin to interpret what had taken place.
"You've probably guessed most of it already. The old man in white was Pelterrin, who stood up for Vizzik and said that it was on his authority that Vizzik had welcomed us in. The nasty piece of work in grey was Behenna. He started by saying we shouldn't have been let into the valley at all - he's going to punish the guards tomorrow. Then he asked who had welcomed us into the monastery; that's when Vizzik got involved."
"It's dreadful here." Berin shivered. "All those hundreds of monks and they're completely dominated by one sadistic bully."
"It wasn't normally like this. It was a wonderful place, full of gentleness and hard-won spiritual peace. But when you have a lot of dedicated people in one community, the effect of all that effort can give power to evil and cruelty just as it does to wisdom or holiness. And a lot more speedily too. A stone rolling downhill gathers momentum very quickly."
"What can you do about it, Idressin?" Caldar asked.
"I'm not really intending to do anything, except to visit Master Dzar," the tutor replied to their disappointment. "Then we'll see." He would say no more, and they went to sleep still burdened with vague apprehensions about the next day.
Dawn was just touching the highest peaks above the west side of the valley when Vizzik woke them for breakfast. This was also taken in the large hall in silence and the boys were glad when it was over and they could escape to the open air. A young monk came to show Idressin where to go, while the other three strolled off to visit the ponies which Vizzik had put to graze in the meadows below the monastery.
They were still on their way, when another monk hurried up to them and said that their presence was requested in the main courtyard. The polite message and the smiling messenger did nothing to prepare them for what was waiting. The internal square of the monastery formed one vast grassy open space and in the middle was a large circle, composed of hundreds and hundreds of brethren, seated in rows. As they came closer, they could see that there was a space in the centre of the gathering, occupied at present only by two wooden posts. They halted behind the outermost row, unwilling to go further into something they did not understand. The silence was already oppressive, almost ominous.
There was movement at the far side of the courtyard. A small procession of monks came slowly forward, preceded by two hooded figures in white. They came to a halt in the centre space. One of the group, robed in grey, began to speak and immediately they recognised the voice of Behenna. Seen in daylight, his face was at once handsome and arresting. Black hair, black brows and striking black eyes, with a look of natural authority and strength as well as grace in his controlled movements. He was once more using Shattun and that immediately put Caldar on his guard.
"We have brought these two brothers to the Place of Reckoning. They have confessed to their errors and it only remains for us to allot the appropriate punishment which will serve as a lesson to them and be of value to the rest of the brethren." It was clear by now that the two swaying figures in white were yesterday's young guards. "We sentence them to the thousand and one prayers." A half-stifled gasp ran around the assembly. "I would remind you, brothers, that each cut represents one prayer for the soul of him who receives it, for the advancement of the giver, and for the good of the community. Take heed to what you do and the power of the Brotherhood will surely increase."
The three visitors were just realising with horror the implications of what they had heard, when Behenna gave an order and the offending pair were stripped and tied to the wooden posts. Then he turned and looked straight at the small party standing on the fringe of the scene.
"In honour of our guests, I think it would be appropriate for them to make the first cuts. And to strengthen our resolve throughout the ceremony, we will all chant the Prayer of Self-sacrifice."
At once a kind of low hum began among the seated rows, a palpable sound that washed over them wave after wave. After a moment, Behenna smiled at the three friends and held up across both hands a long glittering knife. Caldar felt himself frozen into immobility. A voice deep inside was saying, "Come. Step forward. Take the knife." It seemed to grow more powerful with each passing moment, drawing strength from the all-pervading drone of the chant which swelled and resonated inside him. In quite another place he was recoiling from every aspect of what was before him. And at the same time an idiotic little message kept hopping around in his head, "Idressin says you must think. Idressin says you must think."
With an effort Caldar wrenched his gaze from Behenna's compelling eyes and turned his head to look at his friends. He saw with relief that Berin was involved in a struggle similar to his own, but was making no move to obey the summons. At that very moment however Rasscu started forward. Caldar tried to rouse himself and stop his friend. Too late, there was not enough time even to cry out in protest. The Tesserit seemed to reach Behenna in one swift movement and grasp the knife. The monk's smile was thick with anticipation and Caldar could see that he was literally feeding off the atmosphere of growing terror.
Rasscu turned, not towards the two bound figures, but towards the rows of the brethren. Quite slowly and simply he held up his hand, and as if by magic, the chanting stopped. Then he began to speak in a deep commanding voice that Caldar had never heard before.
"You chant a sacred prayer you call the Prayer of Self-sacrifice. This knife too is sacred. It is called the Blade of Self-sacrifice. Does any man know the words inscribed on the hilt?" No one answered.
"It says 'I am the giver and the taker of life. Use me at your peril. The pure shall be restored. The impure shall be consumed.' Are you so certain of your purity, all of you, that you would use this blade? Do you dare to take part in this perversion? Do you understand nothing?"
There was another moment of absolute stillness, and then, quicker than thought, Behenna leapt forward to Rasscu's side and snatched the knife. With a shout of triumph he drove it deep into the Tesserit's chest. Caldar could see his friend's face throughout and observed with wonder that his level gaze did not even flicker. The pair were locked together motionless in the shocked aftermath of the attack, then Behenna slowly crumpled and fell backwards to the ground, dragging the knife with him. The blade was bright and clean and there was no mark on Rasscu's breast, while a dark red stain began to spread swiftly across the monk's grey habit.
Every eye had seen it. The awe engendered by the stupefying event they had witnessed held them still, not daring to move. What might have happened next, had the monks been given time to recover, remained conjecture. Before anyone stirred, a well-known voice broke the spell.
"You gave that pervert his come-uppance very nicely, me lad." It was of course Idressin. "Bit risky, the whole thing, you had me worried there for a minute. But I guess these gentlemen will have learned something from it. And maybe the pervert will too. By the way, he's still alive, so perhaps someone should see to him."
The tutor had approached unseen behind the boys while everyone's attention had been riveted on what was happening in front of them. With him was a frail old man with a smile which shone in his large gentle eyes. Idressin walked forward, casually picked up the sacred knife, and cut free the guards.
The old man also came to the front, slowly and with difficulty. Then he turned to face the assembled monks, and in a voice thin and clear as a reed flute said, "It is time to begin again, my brothers. For me. For you. Go to your tas
ks for the day and rejoice. Renewal is at hand." He beamed at them all and nodded his dismissal.
While the monks dispersed, the four travellers were reunited. Introductions followed, each of the friends having the uncomfortable feeling that Master Dzar's wise old eyes saw through all their pretences and weighed what little was left with supreme accuracy. After meeting them all, he turned to the tutor, the smile in his voice as well this time.
"Perhaps I can in part repay you and your friends for your service to the Brotherhood. You say you are not sure where the Talisman is destined to appear? That is one question I can answer."
Chapter 18
The story which surfaces from time to time about a secret valley peopled by monks who are able to fly can safely be treated as an entertaining fiction. Variously placed in the Holonai mountains, the Chentar peninsula, or even on an unknown island in the Western Ocean, this intriguing monastery has always remained stubbornly invisible to human perception.
Travels in The Empire - Axer Floody
Empire, Dendria
The Grand Caravan was camped in a broad valley, which had been rising steadily for days, channelling the highway towards the unseen passes ahead and the Malefor border. They had left the last city on the South Dendrian plains a week before and the wind was bitter as they penetrated the low barren mountains.
Without Idressin to gainsay her, Tariska wandered the camp freely, overruling S’Bissi's half-hearted attempts to insist that G'shenni accompany her. The merchant assured her that she would meet her friends again in Razimir, but she did not entirely believe him, leaving her with a future so bleak and full of doubts that she did her best to blank it out with restless activity. This evening she had been outside the campground, walking by the river until the light began to fade. Then she headed back for the area of small tents which housed the entertainers, intending to make one of her frequent visits to Tintrip's family. The first tents were still a hundred yards ahead when she thought she glimpsed Milaiya's small figure behind a ruined shed on her right. There was someone with her, Hiwal perhaps? Automatically Tariska headed towards the pair, only realising when she came closer that it was indeed Tintrip's daughter, but that the person with her was not her mother.
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