By the time they reached the ground, Sulrad had put Ignal’s worries out of his thoughts. She often reminded him that there was always time for renewal, even when things looked dark. He had his whole life ahead of him. Ran had work for him to do, but he had lost focus. He knew that now. He would return to that work, and Ran would bless him once more.
Rather than retire to his rooms after the grueling climb, Sulrad made his way to the private gathering room where the temple staff ate. The cooks were experts in preparing meals without meat, even though they tended to over-spice every dish. The dining area functioned as an informal gathering room where the faithful congregated to hear his words.
“Call everyone together,” Sulrad told Ignal. “Tell them I have word from Ran that they urgently need to hear.”
“As you wish.” Ignal departed, and soon the staff started to trickle in. There were guards, gardeners, maids, cook staff, carpenters, acolytes in light blue robes, and lay persons who did not wear the robes of the priesthood, but common clothes. They sported hair shorn to half a digit in length. What was missing was another priest. No one sported the black robes of the priesthood. Not one. Some of the acolytes had proven the ability to wield magic in small ways. Young men and women who would one day make passable healers, but none with true strength.
Surely he was not the only one who possessed powers on a grand scale? Those few wizards he had brought into the temple had been spies sent to do him harm. Perhaps that was over now. With Amedon tamed, he could recruit those with power and train them up as priests. It would take part of the burden off him and allow him to focus on bringing the word of Ran to those who most desperately needed it.
Sulrad surveyed those assembled before him. Who would have thought he would one day be responsible for so many folks? The temple fed them and their families. They in turn served Ran, but it was Sulrad who was responsible for them. If he failed, they starved. It was sobering.
“You may know that we have faced troubles in the past, but those are in the past.” He stepped up on a chair so they could all see him. “A new day has dawned. The wizards of Amedon are restrained like the dogs they are.” Sulrad shuddered inwardly. He wasn’t certain he spoke the truth, but that was not what his people needed to hear. “We no longer have to fear them. Ran has brought us though this trial and prepared us for the days ahead. I have a task for each and every one of you. I wish you to seek out those with power. Wizards and sorceresses. Find them. Bring them here so that we may present them to Ran and they can do his work.” He paused and pointed at one of the lay folk. “Do you have a nephew or niece who shows signs of the power? Bring them here. Let Ran see that you are faithful.” He pointed at an acolyte in light blue robes. “Do you have a younger sister? Keep an eye on her. When the time comes, if the power awakens in her, bring her here.
“Do you know what those dogs in Amedon do? When they find one with the power, they command them to wander the land for moons on end. Alone. Untaught. They send these young wizards out into the wilds to learn to control their magic, and why?” He paused, looking over the astonished faces. “Because young wizards are dangerous until they learn to control their magic. The cowards up in their lofty towers are not hoping to train these wizards. They are hoping that the young wizards learn on their own or die trying. Half of those who are set on this path do die. Some by their own hand, others by mishap.” The staff was fidgeting now. He was making them uncomfortable. Good. They needed to be uncomfortable. Needed a kick in the backside to get them going.
“You. You have magic.” He jutted his chin at another acolyte. “Tell everyone how you came to be here.”
“Yes, Father.” The young boy nodded and looked around, clearly uncomfortable.
“Go on. Tell them your story.”
“I had a dream one night. I was lighting the cook fire. I woke to screaming. My folks were throwing water on the curtains in our home. They’d caught fire.” The acolyte hung his head. “I almost killed my family.”
“And you?” Sulrad jabbed his finger at another acolyte.
“I was always good with the animals. They came to me when they were injured. I cared for them. One day, our cat got too close to a kine while it was being milked. The kine stepped on the poor cat’s leg and broke it. I cried. I picked it up and soothed it. It was in so much pain, I could hardly stand it. I stroked its leg, and I grew all warm inside. It was strange, but it felt right. I grew dizzy as the magic came to life. When things calmed down, the cat was fine. Its leg was straight. I’d healed it.” The girl looked around as if searching for someone. “After that, my ma. She said I was a healer and brought me here.” The girl smiled. “And she was right. I am a healer.”
“See. No two stories are the same. Out there, somewhere, there is a young boy or a girl who has just had the power awaken in them. Find them. Tell them of Ran and how we are training young wizards and sorceresses. We’re not afraid of a budding new wizard. We welcome them. Encourage them. We will keep them safe.” Sulrad cast a quick glance at the boy who had started a fire in his own home. “Them, and those around them.
“You are Ran’s servants. Find those with power. Bring them here. We need each and every one of you to do your best. And when you do, the temple will grow and more will hear of Ran and benefit from his mercy.” Sulrad jabbed a finger at the floor beneath him. “This is what we have been called to do. This is what Ran had brought us here for. He will bless your efforts. Of that I am certain.”
He jumped down from the chair, planning to leave immediately and retire to his personal quarters, but the staff was having none of it. They crowded around him, reaching out to touch him.
“I have a nephew,” one said.
“And me, a brother,” another one added.
“I know of a girl. She is also good with animals. I’ll bring her here,” another added.
Perhaps he had been a bit hasty. “When you do find them, bring them to Ignal. She will arrange for them to be tested. If they have the power, they will be welcomed into the fold.” He held up his hands. “Now, I really must retire. It’s been a long day and I have prayers to make.”
“Please, Father.” The acolyte who had given her testimony about the animals grabbed at his hand. “Pray over us. You are Ran’s hand on earth. His voice. Please bless us with his words.”
Sulrad paused. He hadn’t considered praying over his staff. He was so used to keeping his devotions to himself that it had never occurred to him. Perhaps this was something he should have thought of earlier.
“To the great hall,” he said.
“What are you doing?” Ignal said, taking up step beside him.
“Evening prayers.”
“Should I add these to your schedule?” Ignal asked.
“It seems like a good idea.”
Ignal studied his face. She had that look about her. The one that said she was more in tune with what he needed than he was. “I think it’s a great idea. Every evening. Just after the evening meal?”
“Yes. That should do. And in the morning. Just before morning meal.”
“I will see to it.” Ignal stepped aside as Sulrad stepped up to the dais. He raised his arms and began. “Ran bless you. Ran keep you safe.”
As he uttered the words, he felt the rightness of them. It was as if Ran himself was speaking through him. What came out was not his normal prayers, but a litany of blessings and exhortations to follow Ran and seek his favor. The prayers he had intended to be brief lasted almost half a glass before he ran out of words. He concluded his prayer with a blessing and stepped down from the dais.
“That was beautiful,” Ignal said. She nodded to a scribe standing at the edge of the dais. “He was able to catch most of it. He will have to fill in the rest later and polish it up a bit. I think the refrains and responses could be more crisp.”
Sulrad shook his head. “You never cease to amaze me. I would not have thought to write it down.”
Ignal reached out and took his hand. “How else will we t
each it to the faithful?”
Her familiarity still made him uncomfortable. He had his suspicions that was why she constantly did it. In his mind, it was a way of showing off her special status in front of the staff. At least she restrained herself in front of the faithful.
“We need help,” Sulrad said. “I feel like today we started on that path.”
“Certainly. You said it yourself. We can train the young wizards, and if they don’t take well to training, well, there are other ways to deal with them.” Her hand fell to the sky iron knife she wore in imitation of his own. It was a subtle reminder that Sulrad had taken the magic of more than one wizard in the past, and might need to do so again in the future. An untrained wizard was a danger, that was true, but one who refused to cooperate… well, that could be an even greater danger.
Ignal had a point.
She always did.
He just hoped it would not happen too often.
3
Sulrad sat quietly in his study just after the noon meal had concluded. He coveted this time of the day, not just because it afforded him time to rest, but because it helped him clear his mind. He fingered the statue of Ran that his father had carved. The wood, cut from a tree that had been struck by lightning, had been fashioned into a crude figure. Over time, the figure had become more and more distinct. Even the face, which had remained obscured for a handful of summers, was becoming clear now. Surely this meant that Ran was happy with his progress. How could it mean otherwise? Still, he was uneasy. The thought that somehow he was failing Ran was hard to shake.
In the moon since Ignal had taken him to the top of the spire, Sulrad had accomplished much. Did that mean Sulrad had accomplished what Ran desired of him? The temple was nearly complete, the great spire rising to the heavens themselves. The faithful were growing in numbers. Yet he couldn’t help but feel that something was in the air. Ran never allowed him to rest on his accomplishments. He was a taskmaster tougher than Sulrad’s father ever had been.
Yet, when he examined his heart, Sulrad felt happy. That was the feeling, one he had rarely felt, or acknowledged, before. Certainly the trials with the wizard Zhimosom and the sorceress Rotiaqua had left him scarred and despondent, but he had healed. Things were settling in. Life was growing peaceful. Perhaps that was what Ran had in store for him — a quiet life of contemplation.
A rap sounded at the door.
He heaved a sigh. “Come in.”
“Holy Father.” The person at the door was an acolyte, one of the young wizards Ignal had recruited and was training. “A messenger from the baron awaits you.”
“What does he want?”
“He wishes to speak with you.”
“Tell him I am engaged in prayer and contemplation and will be with him when I am done.”
The acolyte bowed and backed away. “Yes, Holy Father.”
For a moment, he dithered. If he appeared too eager to do the baron’s bidding, it made him look weak. If he delayed too long, the baron might well take it as a slight, and the baron had made it clear that Sulrad and the temple existed because he permitted it.
Perhaps just a slight delay?
“Father. You need to see the insult the baron has perpetrated on us.” Ignal stood in the doorway tapping her foot. “He has sent a delegation to speak with you. Armed castle guards are in the square demanding admittance.”
“We have an agreement,” Sulrad said. “He stays out of the temple. Why are they here?”
“Something about a temple tax.”
Sulrad rose from his chair, checked his robes, and turned to Ignal. “There is no temple tax.”
Ignal held the door for him. “There will be if you let this stand.”
He brushed past her and headed for the main entrance, heedless of the pace he forced on her. The baron had agreed. One part in fifteen on the temple receipts. Sulrad had been careful to provide the levy every moon. What now? Was the baron upset about his daughter’s departure? Rotiaqua and the wizard had departed for foreign lands, but Sulrad played no part in that. He had agreed to train her, but not restrain her.
When he reached the great doors, Sulrad saw that Ignal had understated the size of the force the baron had sent against him. There must have been two score of lancers, not palace guards. This was no delegation, it was an invasion. An invasion of the temple itself.
Sulrad strode up the officer in charge. “What is the meaning of this?”
The officer stood stock still as if presenting himself for inspection as he spoke. “The baron sends his regards and wishes to inform you that the temple tax has been increased from one part in fifteen to one part in five.”
“What? One part in five! That’s outrageous.”
The officer remained silent.
“Take me to the baron,” Sulrad demanded.
The officer nodded to a riderless horse being led by one of his men.
Sulrad leaped into the saddle and followed the officer to the castle, where he was told to wait outside the audience chamber. Not a hand of moons in the past, he had been an honored guest at the table; now he was treated like a commoner who came seeking a crumb from the baron. It rankled him to have to wait. He would have to think of something suitable to reward the baron with when the time came.
He sat there for over a glass as petitioners were escorted into and out of the audience chamber before the guard motioned him in.
Baron Reik sat in the ornately craved throne he used for audiences. Another slight against Sulrad.
“Ah, Sulrad,” the baron said. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
Sulrad bowed only enough to signal the minimum courtesy allowed. “By your command.”
“I see your temple is coming along well.”
“Ran has blessed us. As have you, your grace.”
“Yes. Truly blessed. It’s that blessing I have summoned you to speak of. When we first set out our bargain, I agreed to one part in fifteen, but what I failed to take into account is that the faithful discount their tithe to me by the amount they offer to Ran. That reduces the golds I receive. The barony needs gold. How will I pay for the troops that keep you safe?”
“Ran keeps me safe,” Sulrad said.
“Not from what I’ve heard.”
“Your grace?” Sulrad had no idea where the baron was going with this.
“Were you not abed recovering from the wounds received by the wizard who absconded with my daughter? The daughter I charged you with training?”
“Your grace. How could I have known? The two of them were in league well before she came to live in the temple. They had been working together for summers already. There was no way to know.”
“Indeed. So you say, but we are not here to speak of my daughter. Rotiaqua left with this Zhimosom and good riddance to her. But she has left me without an heir and that is most definitely not in my best interest. I have sought out a suitable mate, but royalty comes at a price, and as I just explained, the treasury is falling low due to your good fortune. That is why I have adjusted the tax on the temple to one part in five. Betrothing costs golds, and my golds are going to your temple, from what I can tell.”
The baron folded his arms across his chest.
Was he expecting Sulrad to refute his decision?
What good would that do?
“You have nothing to say?” the baron spat.
“What is there to say? Will you change your mind at my words? I would not expect so, so there is little I can do.”
“Good. Recall that I gifted you the land. I gifted you the lumber. I gifted you the manpower to get things started. You owe more than you can ever repay. I will receive the golds I am due, or I will take it all back. The land and your fancy temple.” The baron leaned forward. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes, your grace.” Sulrad bowed deeply and backed out of the audience chamber, all the while imagining how he might take revenge on the baron. One part in five. That would make running the temple even harder. Was this punishment from Ra
n or a reminder that he should place his faith in his god? The answer to that sort of question came more often from Ignal than his own mind. She was the mover behind the temple and the golds. She would have an idea of what to do.
He found Ignal in her study. She was bent over the ledgers where she recorded the temple account. She had tried to explain it all to him, but he soon lost the thread of what she was saying. She had since refrained from explaining what it was she did with those accounts. He trusted her. Besides, the golds were something she desired, not him. He had everything he could ask for. He lacked for nothing.
She handed over a tome filled with numbers and descriptions of all manner. “Give him this.” He read the entries. Some of them Sulrad recognized as gifts from the wealthier patrons. Others were for things he had no idea the temple actually consumed.
“What are these?” Sulrad asked.
“The books recording the temple accounts. Every copper, every silver, every gold, every donation of goods. They are all here.” She gestured to the set of books before her. “Well, in these. Not the ones I just gave you. Those,” she jutted her chin at the tome she had handed him, “are slightly different. Not a lot. Not enough to raise suspicions, but enough to cut the amount we pay the baron as much as I dare.”
“How did you do this so quickly?” Sulrad shook his head. Had Ignal prepared these since the guards arrived a few glasses ago, or did she have them in her possession all along? He had his suspicion that she had them prepared well in advance of this day. She was clever that way. Always two steps ahead of him.
“The baron was always trouble. He was just less trouble for a while than he might have been.” She smiled smugly. “I knew the day would come when he coveted the wealth we are amassing, I mean, Ran is amassing. The great spire is a constant reminder of Ran’s power and wealth. What did you expect was going to happen? The baron thought that Ran was ineffective. He thought granting you some land and lumber would be enough for you. He never believed that the wealthy would come to believe in Ran, much less offer such generous support to our efforts. I was ready.” She shrugged. “Isn’t that what you keep me around for?”
Dragon Lord: An Epic Fantasy Saga (Origins Book 2) Page 2
