by Roger Taylor
'Are you all right?’ he asked again.
Privv looked up sharply, making Horld start. ‘Yes, yes,’ he nodded. He searched for a convenient lie. ‘I think I've been working too hard lately,’ he said, then realized as soon as he had spoken that it was not a reply likely to induce sympathy in Horld. ‘But I'm fine now, thank you,’ he added hastily. With an effort, he set his concerns about Leck aside. Whatever had happened had happened. She was obviously in no danger now and, doubtless, he would learn about everything in due course. Thus, at least partly unburdened, the opportunist in him began to reassert itself fully.
'If I could perhaps sit a moment,’ he said, looking around the entrance hall with its ornate mosaic floor, sweeping staircases and fluted columns rising to the high domed roof. ‘It's very calming here. And would it be an imposition to ask for a glass of water?'
Horld pondered the request, his mistrust of the Sheeter returning in direct proportion to Privv's recovery. ‘No, not at all,’ he said slowly, but he looked around for a servant to undertake the errand rather than risk leaving Privv alone. At that moment, however, Morem appeared bearing a glass of water and a large blanket and looking very businesslike. Privv rejected the blanket with a gesture, but gulped down the water greedily. He was parched ... indeed, his throat was painfully dry. Fear, he realized. Leck's fear. He reached out again tentatively but, though he could feel the cat's presence, there was no acknowledgement.
Morem was looking at him, at once concerned and shrewd-eyed. He was hefting the blanket purposefully, apparently loath to relinquish it before he had put it to good medical use. Privv stood up to demonstrate his returned well-being.
'Thank you ... Brother Morem, isn't it?’ he said, returning the empty glass to him in order to still the fidgeting blanket. Morem smiled broadly, lured on by this unexpected recognition. As he was about to speak though, Horld, his face darkening, stepped protectively between them. He laid a comradely, but strong arm around Privv's shoulders and began ushering him towards the door.
'Well, if you're sure you're all right now I'm afraid I'll have to see you out. We still have our meeting to finish, and it's already been a long one.'
'I understand, of course,’ Privv managed, risking a brief stop. ‘And I'm sorry to have been such a trouble. But as I'm here, I wonder if it would be possible to have a word with Brother Cassraw? If I picked up a rumour about his being hurt, then it'll be all over Haven Parish tomorrow. A word in my Sheet would help to stop a lot of foolish gossip.'
Horld moved him on again. ‘I'm sorry. As I just told you, Brother Cassraw's resting. He's less than happy about his little tumble and he certainly doesn't want to be disturbed.’ He looked significantly at Morem. ‘As Brother Morem will confirm. Besides, I doubt anyone will be seriously interested in such a trivial incident, do you?’ he concluded as they reached the door.
Untypically, Privv had almost been reduced to stammering as Horld opened the door and pushed him gently, but determinedly through it. ‘Well, thank you ... er ...'
His eyes looked past Horld and back into the entrance hall. Coming down the stairs was Cassraw.
'Ah!’ he exclaimed, his face lighting up.
Both Horld and Morem caught the look and turned round. Morem reacted with unfeigned surprise, but Horld merely kept his arm across the doorway to keep Privv out.
'There you are,’ he said to Privv, without looking at him. ‘As I said, Brother Cassraw's fine. No reason for anyone to be concerned. I'm afraid you've had a wasted journey. Still, I'm sure that you'll find plenty of other things to ... reassure ... your readers about.'
But Privv was not one to be hindered by politeness when need arose.
'Brother Cassraw,’ he shouted, waving his hand past Horld. ‘Brother Cassraw. Can you spare me a minute?'
He sensed Horld's great hand curling up into a most unclerical fist, but he broadened his smile and redoubled his waving. Cassraw had by now reached the foot of the stairs and was being accosted by an anxious Morem. He nodded to something that Morem was saying, then looked towards the door. Horld, considerably unsettled by the sudden appearance of the man he thought was still lying comatose in his room, was about to push Privv bodily away from the door and slam it after him. He had visions of Privv bombarding Cassraw with questions and being treated to the eerie nodding and smiling that had hallmarked Cassraw's conduct prior to his collapse. He was already reading the consequences amplified beyond recognition in Privv's Sheet.
Even as he was bracing himself to give this wretched man a good push, Cassraw called out, ‘Who is it, Brother?’ and moved Morem to one side. He sounded quite his old self again.
This time it was Horld who stammered. ‘It's only a Sheeter, Brother Cassraw. He's just leaving.'
'Brother Cassraw—a minute, if you please.’ Privv continued his barrage regardless of this exchange.
Cassraw stared at him for a moment, then raised his hand and beckoned him forward. ‘Let him in,’ he said to Horld. ‘I'm sure we can spare him a minute or two. We mustn't turn our backs on these new ways, must we?'
Horld could have disputed that at great length but, with blatant reluctance, he lowered his arm. Released, Privv bustled past him and made straight for Cassraw like a dog sighting food, Horld staring after him in open distaste.
Cassraw redirected the Sheeter towards the bench-seat and then sat down beside him. Horld, shepherd-like, hovered over them both while Morem stood back and watched uneasily.
'We have to get on with our meeting, Brother Cassraw,’ Horld said significantly. ‘There is a great deal to discuss yet.'
Cassraw nodded. ‘I know,’ he said. Then he turned to Privv, confidential. ‘I'm afraid my little walk yesterday not only cost me a bruise or two, it's caused no small number of administrative problems so I can't talk for long. What is it you wanted to see me about?'
Before Privv could answer, Cassraw gave a slight start. Then he smiled and shook his head. ‘Come on,’ he said to someone other than Privv and, reaching down, he picked something up. ‘I don't know how you got in here, but you've been haunting me ever since I left my room, haven't you?'
He placed the burden on his knee.
Privv found himself looking down at Leck, nestling comfortably in Cassraw's lap.
* * * *
Cassraw held open his arms and addressed the assembled Chapter Brothers. His hands and face showed the damage he had suffered the previous day, but he was groomed and immaculate and, seemingly, in complete control of himself.
'My friends, what can I say?’ he began. ‘My apologies, certainly. And my thanks—for your patience, and for your prayers. And my special thanks to Brothers Vredech and Horld and the others for their courage and compassion in venturing out into the darkness to find me. Not to mention their good practical help in bringing me back here.’ He turned to the head of the table. ‘Brother Mueran, in particular I ask your forgiveness for more than the trouble I caused yesterday. My behaviour of late has left much to be desired. I'm all too well aware of that now.’ He clasped his hands and looked upwards. ‘The ways of Ishryth are indeed often beyond our knowing, and whatever led me into my ... escapade ... yesterday, and held me in that mysterious sleep through the night and most of this day has brought me to my senses.'
He held out the torn and stained cassock that he had been wearing. ‘I shall hang this in a special place in my living quarters at the Meeting House to serve as a constant reminder of the folly into which men can be led by their arrogance.’ His manner eased and he smiled in self-reproach. ‘And, to ensure a reminder of a different kind, should you at any time find me setting my face against the ways of the church, or being obdurate beyond reason in debate, then I give you my permission here and now to turn to me and say: “Brother Cassraw, remember the lessons you learned in the darkness."’ Then, with a slight, deprecating wave of his hands, he sat down.
There was a spontaneous burst of applause from several of the Brothers, and most of the remainder were nodding in approval and
relief at this speech. For though it had been short, its simplicity and the openness of its delivery had held all its hearers spellbound; Cassraw had considerable presence as an orator when he chose. Only Vredech seemed to be uncertain about this sudden change of heart by his friend. It showed on his face and, unfortunately, Mueran noticed it. With yesterday's awful problems apparently evaporating before his eyes, and the prospect of normality returning once more, he felt a great burden being lifted from him and he was desperately anxious to ensure the complete unanimity of the Chapter in accepting Cassraw's recantation. It had been fortuitous that Cassraw had suddenly emerged from his strange coma in time to appease that wretched Sheeter, but one couldn't be too careful. Sheeters could present the slightest disagreement as Schism, and the slightest misdemeanour as scandal. A unified front was essential, if only for the next few days, until Cassraw had made his peace with those of his flock whom he had offended.
'Brother Vredech, you seem unhappy,’ he risked.
Vredech felt himself the focus of the surprised but good-natured attention of his colleagues. Under its pressure he forced his face into a smile that he did not feel. He looked at Cassraw who was still standing, his head bowed, as if awaiting judgement. He felt the will of the meeting and the great momentum of the minutiae of everyday life seeking to reassert itself. Let everything be as it was. He was not immune to such pressure. Change is a fearful thing.
'I'm sorry,’ he said with a disarming shrug as he gathered his thoughts. ‘I'm a little out of sorts. I slept badly last night, despite the day's exertions.'
'I doubt any of us slept well,’ Mueran said, allowing himself a tone of gentle rebuke. ‘With Brother Cassraw lying unconscious amongst us.'
Vredech was anxious now to be away from this scrutiny. Words seemed reluctant to come to him, however, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that he managed to say, ‘I'm truly glad that Brother Cassraw is back with us in every way.'
It was enough for Mueran. He turned to Cassraw and motioned him to sit down. Before he did so, Cassraw turned and looked at Vredech, his face full of gratitude and thanks. He was the Cassraw whom everyone knew and loved, the man whose diligence and ability had been such that he had shown himself suitable to receive the Haven Parish.
No! Voices deep inside Vredech called out in denial.
This was not that Cassraw. He was different. Something was askew, not right.
Not right.
He pushed the voices down, crushing them with his own need to be at ease with everything again. At his acknowledging nod, Cassraw finally sat down. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the carefully folded cassock.
Mueran speedily guided the meeting through such of the business as had been abandoned at Cassraw's explosive exit the previous day, and the Chapter Members dispersed quickly and without ceremony.
As they were all milling about the entrance hall, Cassraw formed a natural focal point for the activity. Watching him from some way away, Vredech found himself noting that while everyone took Cassraw's hand and wished him well, one or two spoke to him at length, heads inclined forward, as though they were lowering their voices, despite the din all about them. Like plotters, the thought occurred to him. A twinge of guilt came in its wake. Where could such a ridiculous idea have come from?
He shrugged it off. He was tired after a bad night, that was all. Cassraw was well and with them again; that was all that mattered, surely?
Another unwelcome thought came to him. Could it be that he was jealous of his old friend, his star now apparently ascendant again? Although they had entered the church together, Cassraw had risen further and faster than Vredech had. But then, he had not wanted what Cassraw had wanted. He had wanted only what he had subsequently managed to achieve. There had been no competition between them. Still, one never knew. He smiled to himself. All the time we find new measures of ourselves, he thought. And, like the rest, he gravitated towards Cassraw, shook his hand and wished him well.
Yet even as he did so, the voices returned.
Not right.
Not right.
* * * *
Privv's trap clattered down the winding road that led from the Witness House.
'All right. Truce,’ he said, after a long silence. ‘I'm sorry I did what I did, but you were completely out of control. I'd have been spitting and clawing on the floor if I hadn't stopped you somehow.’ He could not avoid some self-pity. ‘And it took it out of me, I can tell you. I'm still feeling shaky.'
He could not match Leck's sense of injury, however. ‘Oh, you don't have to tell me. I know how it is with you humans only too well,’ she said, her tone massively injured. ‘Anything goes wrong—kick the cat. Besides, what's wrong with spitting and clawing? They're infinitely preferable to some of the things you get up to. Especially with ...'
Images began to form in Privv's mind. ‘Yes, very well,’ he said hastily. ‘I've said I'm sorry. Let's leave it. Tell me what it was all about, anyway, and what were you doing crawling all over Cassraw?'
'My job,’ Leck replied tartly.
The answer caught Privv off-balance. His elation at succeeding in entering the Witness House, together with speaking to Cassraw under such circumstances, not to mention Leck's bizarre outburst which these successes had momentarily eclipsed, had so preoccupied him that he had almost forgotten why he had gone up there in the first place. Leck's terse reminder deflated him somewhat.
'Ah yes,’ he said weakly, adding, ‘and well you did too, finding Cassraw and all. Pity there's no worthwhile story though.'
'I wouldn't say that,’ Leck retorted.
'What? “Chapter Member goes for a walk and falls over",’ Privv sneered. ‘It'd have to be a quiet day indeed for that to rouse anyone's interest. I think I'll liven up that business with the market officials. It's beginning to look really promising. I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't a Heinder lurking in the background there somewhere.’ He began to speculate. ‘We haven't had a decent PlasHein scandal in ...'
'Days,’ Leck said scornfully. ‘And you made that one up as well. Let someone else do the next one or you'll find yourself on the Keepers’ special list.'
Privv shrugged dismissively. ‘Sheeters’ privilege,’ he parroted. ‘Can't touch me for reasonable speculation. Besides, no one denied it.'
Leck did not argue. ‘Suit yourself,’ she replied, with considerable indifference. ‘But don't blame me if you get the dawn knock.’ She yawned and scratched.
Privv gave her a sulky look, and they drove on in silence for a little while. As they passed through the ornate gates that marked the end of the church's official territory, they nearly collided with a carriage travelling along the public road. It was, as usual, Privv's fault, though the details of his error were by no means fully clarified in the exchange of abuse that followed. Nevertheless, it brushed away the uneasy atmosphere between the two.
'What was all that business about up there?’ Privv asked as he finally regained control of the pony. ‘It wasn't some dog, I could tell that.'
Immediately, a wave of confused emotions swept through him. He glanced down at the cat to see if there was any outward manifestation of this, but she was lying motionless, apparently asleep. Her voice, though, was wide awake and sharp. ‘I don't know,’ she said. ‘It was something to do with Cassraw. There's something odd about him. Very odd. Something I've never felt in any human before.'
'What do you mean?’ Privv asked.
'I just said I didn't know, didn't I?’ came the irritable response. ‘Why don't you listen?'
'How would you like to walk home, cat?'
'It'd probably be safer than riding with you. Do you want to hear about Cassraw or not?'
'Sorry, go on,’ Privv replied gracelessly.
Suddenly, Leck was earnest. ‘This is important, Privv,’ she said. ‘There's something really strange about Cassraw.’ Then, rather embarrassed, ‘I even tried to reach him.'
Privv looked down in surprise. ‘And?’ he asked after a mom
ent.
'Nothing, of course,’ Leck replied, after a short pause. ‘But ...’ She hesitated. ‘It was almost as if he were keeping me out. It was very peculiar.'
Privv felt let down. ‘The man's a cleric, for pity's sake,’ he said. ‘They're all a bit peculiar. We should know. They've given us some rare stories at times—better than any we could make up.’ He laughed.
Leck's response was caustic. ‘Those were just ordinary humans,’ she said, ‘doing what you all do. Nothing strange about them at all, just more guilt and hypocrisy. Cassraw's different.’ She hesitated again, then sat up suddenly. ‘He's not human,’ she blurted out, almost as if against her will. Her unexpected movement coupled with the force behind her words made Privv jump, but before he could say anything his mind was filled with wild, animal images.
'Stop it. You'll have us over,’ he said, nudging the cat with his foot.
Leck hissed at him viciously. ‘And you stop that,’ she snarled, raising a paw, its claws extended. ‘I'm trying to think. That ... man ... frightened me witless when I first saw him.'
'Why?’ Privv asked.
'I've told you, I don't know,’ Leck snapped back. Again, strange images surged into Privv's mind. This time he did not react.
'Why were you all over him then?’ he asked quietly when Leck seemed to be more settled.
'Because he's ... powerful,’ Leck replied after a long silence. Her voice was thoughtful. ‘We must watch Cassraw, Privv. Be his allies. Things are going to happen all about him. Spectacular things. Dangerous things.'
* * *
Chapter 8
Vredech threw his cloak on to a chair and slumped into another one. He put his hands to his head. He had hoped that the leisurely ride down from the Witness House and through the town would have settled and relaxed him, but it had not. If anything, he felt more tense and disturbed now than before Cassraw's seemingly miraculous recovery. He took a deep breath and laid his hand on a copy of the Santyth that was resting on a small table by the chair. It was an old, battered copy and its position on the table was both permanent and one of honour, as it had originally belonged to his father. By an irony which Vredech always appreciated, his father had been that rarity in Madren society, an unbeliever. ‘Some good tales in there, lad. And a deal of wisdom—no denying. And some fine writing. But the Great Creator of all things? Ishryth?’ He would shake his head. ‘No. Men's work, this. Only men would create a creator in their own image. I doubt they meant any harm by it, but it's men's work all the same. Men railing against the dark. As ignorant as the rest of us.'
