The Sword

by Bryan M. Litfin

  “I think you’re wise to believe me wise.”

  “You’re a spiritual seeker, aren’t you?”

  Valent nodded. “And a finder.”

  Shaphan lowered his head and glanced around the room. He leaned close to Valent and asked in a whisper, “Do you want to know about some new wisdom coming to Chiveis?”

  “All wisdom is my domain.”

  “I have access to a secret book. A book of the Ancients.”

  Valent’s ears perked up when he heard these words. In his youth he had led a group of religious dissidents seeking a more personal experience of the divine than the state cults could provide. Eventually the group had disbanded, but Valent always remembered the thrill of exploring radical ideas and the exhilaration of being revered as an authority. He looked across the table at the innocent young man with the naive smile and the puppy-dog eyes.

  “Tell me more, Shaphan,” he said.

  Teo set down his quill and rubbed his forehead between his fingers. Translating the Fluid Tongue of the Ancients was no easy task.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Yes?”

  “Professor Teofil, you have a visitor waiting at the gate.”

  Teo sighed. “Alright. Let him in. I’ll meet him at the waterfall.”

  “It’s a woman, sir. I’ll admit her.”

  A woman? Teo considered the possibilities. He decided to hope for one of two outcomes—that it would be Ana, or it wouldn’t be Habiloho.

  What if it is Ana? Teo knew he had been beating around the bush with her for too long. The guys at the local barracks of the First Regiment had been ribbing him about his lack of progress. Maybe it’s time I made this beautiful woman my lover. He chided himself for being so slow and resolved to turn on the charm. It had never failed him before.

  When Teo arrived in the University’s courtyard, he knew right away he’d gotten the outcome he wanted. Though the woman standing by the waterfall had her back to him, Teo had ridden too many trails staring at that long, honey-colored hair not to recognize it at once.

  “Hello, Ana.”

  She was wearing a green velvet dress with an embroidered neckline. Purple amethysts hung from her ears, and she wore a delicate silver bracelet around her wrist. Her heart-shaped mouth broke into a smile when she turned to greet him. She was absolutely stunning.

  “Teo! I hope I’m not interrupting your work! It’s just that—well, I wanted to tell you something.”

  He gave her a rakish grin. “I think I’ve been wanting to tell you the same thing.”

  Ana reacted with a funny look, but he dismissed it. “You go first,” he said. “I’m listening.”

  She took Teo’s hand and pulled him down until they were seated on the low wall that encircled the waterfall’s plunge pool. It was a sunny day, and a rainbow arced through the mist. A good setting, Teo thought.

  “I’ve come to realize something,” Ana said, her tone earnest. “Something so important, it has consumed my soul. Changed the whole course of my life, in fact.”

  Teo nodded in an understanding way. “Go on.”

  “I’ve pledged my heart—my life—”

  “I know. Just go ahead and say it.” Teo beamed as he took her delicate hand in his.

  Ana inhaled deeply and looked Teo in the eyes. “I’ve given my life to Deu!” she said triumphantly.

  Huh?

  Teo jumped up from the plunge pool and turned away, his hands on his hips. She’s given her life to Deu? What is she talking about? Quickly, he tried to collect his thoughts.

  “What do you think of that?” Ana’s voice was uncertain. “Do you feel the same way about him?”

  Teo turned back toward Ana, forcing himself to be as polite as possible. “Well, uh . . .” He kicked a pebble with his toe and scratched his head. What should I say? “I . . . I’ve certainly enjoyed my study of the ancient book,” he said at last.

  “But what about Deu himself? He has shown me his goodness. Don’t you sense it too?”

  “I guess . . . I guess I would have to say no. Mine is more of an academic interest.”

  “Academic? Aren’t you moved by what you read about him?”

  “Moved intellectually, yes.”

  Ana stood up and approached Teo, her lovely face crestfallen.

  This isn’t going like you had hoped, he thought. Maybe you can salvage it. “Ana, listen. I think it’s great that you’ve found religion. I really do. It’s just not something I need.”

  “I think we all need the one true God.” There was deep hurt in Ana’s voice.

  “That’s not all a woman needs,” Teo said, stepping closer to Ana.

  “Teo, what are you doing? I’m trying to talk about Deu.”

  “I don’t care about Deu!” Teo burst out in frustration. “I care about you!” He started to take Ana in his arms but immediately recognized it was the wrong move and recoiled. At the same moment, Ana pushed him away. Thrown off balance, Teo slipped on a patch of moss and fell against the low wall of the plunge pool. Before he could catch himself, he toppled backward into the freezing water.

  Horrified, Ana stared at him with her mouth open as he sputtered in the pool.

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry I came,” she stammered, then ran from the courtyard.

  Lewth was eating a meager meal of bread and water in his hovel at the High Priestess’s temple—his only food for the day—when someone rapped on his door. He poked his head outside and peered at the visitor from deep within his cowl.

  “The abbot summons you,” the messenger said without further explanation.

  Lewth’s heart lurched. My secret meetings with the house community must have been discovered! Torture was probable, and because he was a monk sworn to the High Priestess, she had the power to execute him. He prayed as he strapped on his sandals and hurried outside. May Deu be with me!

  In the chapter house, the abbot of the Fraternal Order of Astrebril was seated on his throne, accompanied by some government officials from the royal palace. Lewth swallowed and slowly approached the throne, whispering another prayer for divine aid.

  “Brother Lewth, greet me.”

  Lewth fell to his knees and kissed the ring on the abbot’s extended hand. His lips trembled as he did so, but he hoped the abbot wouldn’t notice.

  “You may rise,” the abbot said. “I have sad news to report today, my son. One of our own, Brother Tumas, has passed on to Astrebril’s halls. Did you know Brother Tumas, by chance?” The abbot arched his eyebrows.

  “Reverend Father, I knew him only by reputation.”

  “And what was his reputation?”

  “That he was a learned man, adept in many forms of knowledge, both natural and divine.”

  “Brother Lewth, take pride in the fact that such is also your reputation.”

  “I take pride in it, Reverend Father, as you command.”

  The abbot smiled benevolently as he gazed down at Lewth from on high. The whiskers of his chin were waxed to a sharp point, making him resemble Astrebril himself. Lewth shuddered at the thought.

  “Do you know what task occupied Brother Tumas during the years preceding his demise?” the abbot asked.

  “I do not. I only knew him from his scholarly writings on flora and fauna.”

  “He was a teacher. Several years ago, our blessed and glorious King Piair”—the abbot paused to receive nods of acknowledgment from the royal officials standing beside him—“requested a learned monk of Astrebril to tutor the crown prince.”

  Suddenly Lewth understood. Though he felt some relief that he wouldn’t be sent to the rack, he also experienced a new sense of unease. He feared an immense set of complications was about to invade his life.

  “Reverend Father, how may I be of service in this matter?”

  “You are to become the next tutor of Crown Prince Piair II.” There was no equivocation in the abbot’s voice. It was a direct command.

  Lewth didn’t respond right away, for his mind was racing. He n
o longer believed the theology of the Order of Astrebril, so how could he teach it to the prince? Of course, most of their discussions would dwell on scientific matters, not religious ones. Even so, the question of religion was bound to come up. What then? Would he be courageous enough to say something about Deu to the heir apparent? Lewth’s pulse quickened as he considered the incredible opportunities his new role would offer. Could this be how Deu will come to the people of Chiveis?

  “I await your response!” The abbot’s tone was sharp with impatience. Lewth snapped out of his reverie.

  “It is an honor I willingly accept.”

  Deu, give me strength!

  The house community had already arrived at Stratetix’s chalet in Vingin by the time Maurice got there—everyone except Shaphan and his two guests.

  Helena took Maurice’s cloak and hung it up as he turned to address the expectant group. “Our brother Shaphan will be here shortly,” Maurice announced. “He has invited two visitors to attend our meeting. Their names are Valent and Sucula, a husband and wife who wish to learn of Deu.”

  From the murmuring and fidgeting in the room, Maurice could see the community was uncomfortable with the announcement. They all knew how much trouble would come to them if the religious authorities got word of their gathering. Although no laws forbade spiritual exploration, the High Priestess and her clergy had a reputation for harassment.

  “Master Maurice, I’m not sure that’s wise,” Stratetix said. “We can’t go speaking about Deu to everyone we encounter.”

  “I understand your concerns, Stratetix, and I share them in part. I confess, when Shaphan proposed the idea of inviting guests, I too was skeptical. But Shaphan insisted his friends were genuine seekers of divine truth. As I thought about the matter, I realized that if Deu is the All-Creator, then he’s a God for all of Chiveis, not just for us. We must consider how we can bring the people of this kingdom to him, even if it involves risk. Perhaps Shaphan has begun that process already.”

  “Here he comes now,” Helena said as she looked out the window. “With his guests.” She opened the door.

  Valent entered first, followed by Sucula, then Shaphan. Valent was a handsome man, around forty years old, with a well-trimmed beard and a powerful physique. His clothes were outdoorsy but impeccably kept. Maurice discerned right away he was a capable and charismatic individual. Valent’s petite wife, Sucula, was much younger than he, perhaps in her late twenties. She was unquestionably beautiful, with raven hair and full red lips. Though she didn’t have the commanding presence her husband possessed, she was by no means shy; she carried herself with confidence as she entered a room full of strangers.

  “Welcome to our gathering, friends,” Maurice said. He introduced himself, then everyone else. Valent and Sucula greeted each member of the community, shaking hands with them before taking their seats next to Shaphan. Helena distributed mugs of hot cider to her guests.

  Maurice stood. “May the blessings of Deu be on each of you,” he said. “As we begin our gathering this evening, Anastasia has something she’d like to propose.” He held out his hand toward Ana.

  Ana rose from her seat. “We’re just starting to learn about Deu. He’s a good and loving God who made the entire world. And I think he must also enjoy music if his book contains—I forget—how many hymns? Do you remember, Teofil?”

  Teo glanced up from the loose thread he was picking on his sleeve. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “How many hymns are in the Sacred Writing?”

  “Oh. A hundred and fifty.”

  “Right, a hundred and fifty. That’s a lot of songs, and they must be important to Deu’s worship. I thought perhaps we could sing one of them?” Receiving several nods of affirmation, she continued, “I took the liberty of setting one to music. I’ll teach it to you, and we can sing it whenever we gather. I have my harp.”

  “A worthy idea, Anastasia,” said Stratetix. “Teach it to us.”

  “The hymn is called ‘Utter to the Eternal One a Cry of Joy.’ It goes like this.” Ana plucked a prelude on her harp, then began to sing. Her crystal voice mingled with the harp’s resonant notes to create a sweet melody in the chalet. She increased her volume and let the music carry her away as a spirit of holiness entered the room. With the final words, His kindness always endures, and his fidelity, from generation to generation, she lowered the harp and looked up.

  “That was beautiful, Ana,” Lina breathed.

  “I think we should all sing it,” Maurice said.

  Ana recited the lyrics to the group, indicating the proper tune as she went along. Soon everyone seemed to have it, so on Ana’s cue, they began to sing. The addition of male voices created a pleasing harmony as the community worshiped their newfound God. Maurice smiled as he surveyed his flock. Most of them were singing with enthusiasm, though he did notice Teo’s contributions appeared halfhearted. Maurice resolved to speak to his student about it later.

  After the hymn was sung, Maurice motioned toward Lewth, who announced his new appointment as tutor to the crown prince. The assembly seemed to grasp the potential significance of this turn of events.

  “I’m terrified,” Lewth admitted, “so I ask for your prayers. Pray that I might be resolute when the time comes.”

  “Deu has put you in a strategic place,” Maurice said with conviction. “Let us be praying for our brother Lewth, and also for the heart of Crown Prince Piair.”

  Maurice reached into his sleeve and produced a scroll. “It’s time for the reading. Professor Teofil has worked hard to translate this for us, and Shaphan has copied it for our use. We thank them both for their efforts. I hold here the third chapter of the book of Beginning. It has some difficult things to tell us. Listen now to the words of Deu.”

  By the flickering light of a candle, Maurice began to read as the community listened intently. He described how the serpent, a crafty beast, tempted the woman named Eve to eat from a magical tree whose fruit Deu had forbidden. She also gave some fruit to her husband, Adam, who ate it as well.

  “Notice that Deu is displeased,” Maurice said. He described how Deu came to the garden and found the man and woman hiding their nakedness. Deu inquired about the magical tree, and Adam confessed he had eaten of it, blaming his wife for the sin. Deu then confronted Eve, and she blamed the serpent. In response, Deu instituted three grievous curses. The serpent was condemned to go about on its belly and to be hated by mankind. The woman would have increased pain in childbirth. In addition, her desires would be directed toward her husband, but he would dominate her. Finally, the man’s labors would be made difficult. Deu declared the ground itself accursed, requiring much toil to make it productive.

  Maurice paused his reading and glanced around the silent room. Every eye was focused on him; several mouths were agape. Maurice concluded the narrative by describing how Deu banished the man and woman from the garden forever, placing a flaming angel at its gate to prevent reentry. Adam and Eve were prevented from attaining eternal life.

  “Deu was angry at this disobedience of his law,” Lewth observed. “His penalties are severe.”

  “Indeed. And what else do you discern from this reading, my friends?” Maurice asked.

  “I see damage to relationships,” Helena said, her voice tinged with sadness. “The man and his wife were together in their nakedness, with no shame between them. But after they transgressed, they felt compelled to hide. Their oneness was lost. Did you notice how Adam’s protective instinct became corrupted? When he was confronted with his sin, he tried to divert Deu’s anger toward Eve! The Sacred Writing teaches that a wife’s desire will be for her husband, but sadly, he will dominate her.”

  “It’s true,” Stratetix agreed. “Men are stronger than women. Our constant temptation is to mistreat our wives instead of loving them.”

  Helena took her husband’s hand and stroked it gently.

  “Let us consider what we have learned here,” Maurice said. “This chapter reveals something new about the
All-Creator. He is a God who will not tolerate sin and punishes it when it occurs.”

  Valent stood and began to pace, his brow furrowed. At length he turned to the assembly and spoke. “I know I’m just a guest tonight,” he said. “But may I offer something?”

  Maurice nodded. “Of course.”

  Valent heaved a sigh. “I’m not sure we’re on the right path here. I think we’re reading these holy words at face value without accessing the secret knowledge they contain.”

  “What are you trying to say, Valent?” Lewth asked.

  “Might we be reading these words too simply? I think there’s something hidden within them.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, to begin, let’s not jump to the conclusion that Deu is an angry God or that he’s worried about our sins. Is it worthy of the All-Creator to be concerned with our day-to-day morality? I don’t think so. Wouldn’t he focus on more important things? I suggest we read the text symbolically to uncover its arcane meaning.”

  “Master Valent has a good point,” Shaphan said. “Deu is too lofty to care about the minor sins we commit.” Lina nodded in agreement.

  “Thank you for that affirmation, Shaphan.” Valent wandered the room, looking each person in the eye. “I think what we find in the book of Beginning is a symbolic account of how to attain knowledge. What is sin? I don’t think it’s a moral failing. It’s our lack of divine enlightenment! Think about it. The real hero of the story is the serpent, for he’s the one who offers access to the Tree of Knowledge. Adam stands for the common man, the man who dares to take hold of knowledge but then turns away from it as if it’s something shameful. He hides because he fears the nakedness of possessing elite wisdom. Don’t you see? The reason Deu is displeased isn’t because Adam broke some arbitrary law. It’s because after Adam had tasted knowledge, he shrank back from using it to the fullest! Therefore, Deu banished him from the garden of further enlightenment.”

  “So you’re saying we’re supposed to finish what Adam started,” Rosetta said. “To reach out and take hold of forbidden knowledge.” She looked around the room. “That makes sense to me.”