"^X J^" akim Douan was truly surprised to learn that the Chezhou Kaliit, the master of that warrior order, was in Jacintha to meet with Jl him, for though the Chezhou-Lei were dedicated to the Yatol priests, serving as bodyguards who would throw their own bodies in front of a spear aimed for a Yatol, the Kaliit, an old barrel-chested man named Thog Timig, rarely left his home village, some hundred miles south of Jacin-tha. His mere presence told Yakim Douan that something extraordinary was afoot.
The door to the private audience chamber cracked open and Merwan Ma entered, leading the old and bent man. The Kaliit was hunched at the loulders, and while his torso had retained the size and strength of his for-mer warrior years, his arms and legs were spindly things, withered and crooked from an assortment of injuries. But if there was any infirmity in the Kaliit's physical body, it didn't show in his dark and sparkling eyes, strong and intense. He fixed a glare on Douan from the moment he strode through the door, one that showed appropriate respect, but also conveyed the inner power of the man.
"Welcome, Kaliit Timig," Douan greeted warmly. ?I have oft feared that I would not have the chance to greet you again before Yatol took one of us or the other to his side."
The Kaliit stiffly, but with great dignity, slid into a chair beside the Chezru Chieftain.
"It will not be long," he replied dryly. ?Every storm rages in my body be-fore the sky has clouded."
Douan nodded and smiled, more to himself than to his visitor. He had no idea of the Kaliit s true age, but the man was very, very old, ancient even. Thog Timig had risen to the position of Kaliit early on during Douan's reign as Chezru Chieftain, but while Yakim Douan had been barely more than a boy at that time, those few decades ago, Thog Timig had already been a middle-aged man. ?Which makes your decision to visit me at this time all the more mysteri-ous, I must admit," Douan said a moment later, when the God-Voice noted that the Kaliit seemed to be staring off into nothingness.
The old man turned his head slowly to regard the man beside him. ?The Chezhou-Lei will march as one," he explained. ?For the first time in three hundred years, the warriors will be recalled from every corner of Behren."
Yakim Douan stared at the man incredulously. What was he talking about? The To-gai-ru had been put down, and definitively, outside the gates of Dharyan, and there had been little stirring over the last months from any would-be rebels. So secure had the situation become that Yatol Grysh had sent the Jacintha twenty-squares marching home again. Even the ever-present pirates along the coast had quieted in recent months, now that the eyes of all of Behren's military power could be turned upon them.
"Recalled to march where?" Douan asked, trying hard to hide his sur-prise at all of this. ?To the west? The north? Do you mean to swim out into the Mirianic and throttle the rag-tag pirates?"
"To the south," Kaliit Timig said.
"The south? To the hot jungles and the great Serpent Masur?"
"To the Mountains of Fire and the Jhesta Tu mystics," the Kaliit admitted.
"Jhesta Tu?" Mixed in with Douan's surprise was a fair degree of bud-ding anger. Why would the Chezhou-Lei desire to wake the sleeping tiger that was Jhesta Tu? The old mystics sat up on their mountaintops, removed from all the world - just the way that Yakim Douan wanted it!
"Chezhou-Lei Dahmed Blie did not return with your soldiers from Dharyan," Kaliit Timig remarked.
"No," Douan admitted. ?He was among the fallen. The few fallen. And I admit my surprise and dismay when I learned that a Chezhou-Lei warrior had been killed at Dharyan. I never would have believed that the pitiful rebels could have struck such a blow!"
"Chezhou-Lei Dahmed Blie was killed, not by a rebel Ru, but by a Jhesta Tu mystic, God-Voice," Kaliit Timig explained. ?Our ancient enemies have come down from their mountains and have begun a war."
"You cannot be certain of this."
"The Jhesta Tu was seen in southern To-gai earlier," Kaliit Timig croaked, his voice rising in anger for the first time since he had entered, and for one of the very few times in the dispassionate man's entire life. ?The wound was quite telling," he went on, holding forth his crooked fingers as straight as he could get them, thrusting them out, hooking them farther, and pulling back, an imitation of the strike Pagonel had used to kill Dahmed Blie. ?It confirmed for us what those who witnessed Dahmed Blie's fall have told. Jhesta Tu killed Chezhou-Lei. There can be no doubt."
"The actions of a rogue mystic, then," a hopeful Douan remarked.
"Fven if that were so, God-Voice, the actions of that day were consum-he killing strike of order against order.
It is not a challenge that ^Yakim Douan blew out an expression of his complete frustration. Would he web of politics never free him enough that he could leave this old and broken frame in peace?
"A challenge?" Douan asked, skepticism clear in his voice. A rogue Thesta Tu joins with the fool Ru and wins a battle against a Chezhou-Lei. You must view that as a challenge? Perhaps this Jhesta Tu is still running about the steppes of northern To-gai. Send Yatol Grysh's warrior, Wan Atenn, and some of his warriors scouring the land."
"We have, God- Voice."
That set Yakim Douan back a bit. The Chezhou-Lei were not an inde-pendent order. They reported to him, and to him alone. Or at least, they were supposed to.
"We have inquired all about the region concerning the Jhesta Tu," Kaliit Timig explained.
"And was his presence part of a larger conspiracy from the mystics of the Mountains of Fire?"
The Kaliit shrugged, a stiff and crooked motion. ?We have learned little, God- Voice," he admitted. ?But it is believed that the slayer of Dahmed Blie has retreated to the south, back to his fortress in the Mountains of Fire. ?
"And you wish to march the Chezhou-Lei there?"
"We must march, God-Voice," the Kaliit explained. ?We must answer this challenge with the sword. ?
Yakim Douan stood up and walked around to the front of the Kaliit 's chair, then bent low very suddenly, his scowling face only a few inches from that of the older man. ?You must?" he asked. ?Has the God-Voice so di-rected you? ?
"No, God-Voice," the Kaliit admitted.
"Then why do you presume that you must do anything, Kaliit Timig?"
"Our battle with the Jhesta Tu began two thousand years ago, God-Voice," Thog Timig tried to explain. ?It is among the most important duties of the Chezhou-Lei, to hold back the infidel Jhesta Tu. We have protected many Chezru Chieftains from the pagans throughout the centuries. Did we not rescue Jacintha from the devilish Jhesta Tu-inspired hordes three cen-turies ago? Did we not..."
Yakim Douan let the Kaliit's words slip past him then, amused by the first reference. He remembered well the day of rioting in Jacintha, when the Chezhou-Lei warriors slaughtered several thousand on the streets out-side of the great temple. Yes, there had been rumors that the Jhesta Tu had inspired the insurrection against the Yatol rule, but those were thor-oughly overblown, Yakim Douan knew well. The people had rioted out of desperation, because of short food supplies in a time of devastating drought. But the Chezhou-Lei warriors had clung to the belief - the hope, and the heroic legend - that the Jhesta Tu had inspired that mob, and even that sev-eral of the mystics had been among the rioters.
When he tuned back into the present, Yakim Douan realized that Kaliit Timig's recounting of the glorious Chezhou-Lei victories had only gained momentum, and so he stopped the man abruptly with an upraised hand.
"No one doubts the value of the Chezhou-Lei, Kaliit," he admitted. ?You are the greatest of Jacintha's warriors, and your loyalty is not, and has never been, in question. But you say that you must travel south, and yet, I have reached no such conclusion, nor have I offered any such edict."
"God-Voice." Kaliit Thog Timig said, rising with great effort to stand as straight and tall as his old and battered frame would allow. ?I pray that you will see the truth of my plea. The Chezhou-Lei must answer this act of murder - "
"It was a battlefield, Kaliit," Yakim Douan reminded, and off to the side, Merwan Ma sucked in his breath nervously.
"A battle that did not involve the Jhesta Tu," Kaliit Timig replied steadily. ?Their mere presence there should frighten you, God-Voice, for they are a powerful foe."
"One," Yakim reminded, holding up a single finger. ?One of them was there. A single warrior."
"It is your decision to make, God-Voice," Kaliit Timig conceded. ?I wish only to impress upon you the urgent need for the Chezhou-Lei to respond to this act of murder. We must march south, or all that we are will diminish. I pray that Yatol gives you the guidance you need, that you can see our needs clearly in this matter."
With that, the old man stiffly bowed and shuffled out of the room.
Merwan Ma stood at the door, looking back at Yakim Douan, his ex-pression showing that he was unsure of whether or not he should remain behind.
The Chezru Chieftain waved him away.
Yakim Douan sat for a long time, playing through his options. He truly did not want the Chezhou-Lei marching to some distant land to do battle with the Jhesta Tu. The Chezhou-Lei were Yakim Douan's elite guard, the iron gauntlet upon the closed fist with which he held Behren. He could ill afford to have their ranks decimated in some far-off land, and even if they marched out there and proved victorious, the length of the journey itself would keep them away from Douan's needs for the better part of a year.
And yet, how could he refuse the request of the Kaliit? The Chezhou-Lei were undyingly loyal to the Yatols, to the Chezru Chieftain above all. They asked little in return. And among the Chezhou-Lei, the most important ideals of all were pride and honor. If they felt slighted now by their hated emies, the Thesta Tu, then, for the sake of their own sensibilities, they had 20 and retaliate. If he said no to them, Yakim Douan knew that they ->uld obey. But what price would they, and he, pay for that decision? What the cost of denying the Chezhou-Lei their honor?
The weary Chezru Chieftain rubbed his tired eyes.
And what if Kaliit Timig was right in his suppositions about the Jhesta Tu being involved in the battle at Dharyan? What if this ancient order was now siding with the To-gai-ru against the Yatols? Douan knew that he had never been a hero to the heretical Jhesta Tu. The Yatol religion was not one that tolerated their strange views of the world long before he had ascended the position as Chezru Chieftain those generations ago. At one point, in a previ-ous incarnation as Chezru Chieftain, Douan had made some overtures that he might try to mend the division between the Yatols and the Jhesta Tu. That thought had been thrown aside before it had ever manifested itself into any action that would move beyond the temple in Jacintha, for Douan had nearly been overthrown by his own priests for simply suggesting such a thing.
For the Yatols hated the Jhesta Tu as profoundly as did the Chezhou-Lei warriors. This was not a battle that Douan could easily avoid.
And did Yakim Douan really want to hold back his Chezhou-Lei war-riors? If the Kaliit was correct, then what might be the implications to him? The Jhesta Tu were the ghosts of the world, mysterious and powerful, and Douan held no doubt at all that they could be the deadliest of assassins if they so chose. If the mysterious mystics had indeed taken up the To-gai-ru cause, then was he, as leader of the conquering Behrenese, truly safe?
This was just one more problem that Yakim Douan did not wish thrust upon him at that time, when he wanted only peace and stability. But like so many of the other problems, it was one that he could not ignore.
He understood then what he must do.
Yakim Douan and Merwan Ma knew from the moment that Master Mackaront of St. Entel walked into their midst that something was terribly wrong in Honce-the-Bear.
"Olin is dead?" the Chezru Chieftain asked, purely on reflex, and Douan bit his lip as he finished the words, angry at himself for the uncharacteristic loss of composure. It was just a thought, an answer to Mackaront's troubled expression, but as God-Voice of Behren, as the unquestioned leader of the Yatol religion, it was not Douan's place to make guesses.
"No, Chezru," Mackaront answered, seeming somewhat confused, as did Merwan Ma, who looked upon his leader questioningly.
It was not a look that Yakim Douan desired to elicit from his flock.
"The College of Abbots has chosen Master Fio Bou-raiy of St.-Mere-Abelle as the successor to Father Abbot Agronguerre," Mackaront explained.
"Abbot Olin is dead," Douan reiterated, this time as a definitive state-ment and not a question. ?His place in the Church is diminished, for he has reached the pinnacle of his power. His road ahead is set, to the end."
Mackaront breathed hard, obviously trying to hold himself steady.
Yakim Douan took a good measure of him, and of Merwan Ma, standing by his side. He had dodged that errant question, he believed, but he knew that he was stretching here. ?That is how Abbot Olin feels, at least,"
he of-fered. ?Else he would not have sent you here."
Mackaront shifted on his feet and straightened somewhat.
"This is unfortunate," Douan remarked, turning away and heading for the chairs. ?For Abbot Olin is among the wisest men of your land, among the wisest I have ever known. It is a sad day for Olin, and for the Abellican Church, which would have grown far greater under his leadership. But we cannot change what has happened, and so we must find now our next best road." Douan understood that he was being a bit condescending, because, obviously, the defeat of Olin didn't weigh upon him as catastrophically as it did with Mackaront.
"The new Queen Jilseponie of Honce-the-Bear voted against Abbot Olin, Chezru," Mackaront explained.
"Surely that signal from King Danube is of interest to you."
Yakim Douan sat down, motioning for the other two to join him. He con-sidered Mackaront's words carefully for a few minutes. Was there really a signal here, anything more than the obvious fact that King Danube of Honce-the-Bear preferred his kingdom as free of Behrenese influence as possible?
Not really, Douan concluded, and he recognized that Mackaront was just being a bit overly dramatic, and perhaps a bit retributive against Douan's inevitable disinterest.
"Abbot Olin holds my friendship - that has not changed," the Chezru Chieftain went on, then he launched into a long series of stories about some of his past dealings with Abbot Olin, even admitting that he had once trav-eled to Entel in disguise to dine with the man at St. Bondabruce.
Master Mackaront listened to it all with growing comfort, and Merwan Ma listened with growing confusion, even concern.
When he had finished, Yakim Douan stood up suddenly, with more en-ergy than any had seen from him in a long time. ?Take our friend out to the docks, to his boat, that he might return to Entel and Abbot Olin," he in-structed Merwan Ma. ?Give to him the tapestry that hangs on the left wall of the entryway - it is a battle that Olin, I am sure, holds dear!" he finished with a chuckle, one that melted any forthcoming questions from the obvi-ously stunned Merwan Ma. The tapestry in question, a beautiful and vi-brant work, and one of Douan's favorites, depicted a great sea battle, in which the Jacintha fleet chased the ships of Honce-the-Bear back to the port of Entel.
"Abbot Olin will like it!" Douan said to the stunned Merwan Ma. ?He have discussed that ancient battle in great detail - he insists that Entel that battle, sinking the Jacintha fleet before it could return. We know truth, of course, that our proud ships had won a great victory over the If rior Entel ships, bottling them in their harbor and sinking most. On glorious return to Entel, though, they happened upon a great storm, i ? and many were lost. He paused and chuckled again. ?Ah yes, we all have our own truths."
When the pair had gone, Yakim Douan stood staring at the door, a grin tamped upon his old face. What a strange and momentous few weeks it had been. First comes news that the Chezhou-Lei wish to march south to do battle with the Jhesta Tu, and now the Abellican Church had just thrown aside the plans of Abbot Olin. Douan knew that this latest news from the northern kingdom should have troubled him, should have once again denied him that which he so desperately wanted, Transcendence. And yet, with these two events, the old Chezru Chieftain felt somehow more alive than he had in so many years.
His had become a cautious existence.
Merwan Ma returned a short while later, his expression showing that he was still perplexed about Douan's reaction to the news from Mackaront and the decision to give away such a prized tapestry.
"Abbot Olin was in need of my consolation," Douan explained.
Merwan Ma seemed to wince a bit at that.
"You wonder why I care?" Douan asked. ?He is Abellican, after all. You have never been comfortable with my relationship with the Abbot of St. Bondabruce."
"God-Voice, it is not my place - "To question me? No, it is not, and so you do not - openly. But in your heart, my young friend, you have questioned me often."
"No, God-Voice!" the younger man declared.
Yakim Douan held up his hands to show his attendant that it was quite all right, that there was no offense here, and none taken. ?Abbot Olin's faith has been shaken yet again by the Abellican Church, and not surpris-ingly," Douan explained. ?Often has he been disappointed by his peers, as we would expect, since they follow a wayward path. Our generosity toward the man has always acted to push him farther from the heretical beliefs of his Church."
"Do you believe that Abbot Olin might be brought to the light of Yatol?" Merwan Ma asked incredulously, and Yakim Douan laughed heartily at that thought.
"I believe that he understands much of the truth of our ways," he ex-plained. ?I expect no overt conversion, nor would I desire one, for that would cause the Abellican Church to excommunicate the man, and likely burn him at the stake. No, the transformation of others to the way of Yatol may sometimes be done with abrupt force, as with the pitiful To-gai-ru, but with the more cultured and entrenched societies, such as Honce-the-Bear our victory will come over the years, the decades, the centuries, as their own failings dishearten them. Abbot Olin was not the first abbot in Entel sym-pathetic to the way of Yatol, nor will he be the last.
"In the end, we will win, because we are right, my son."
Merwan Ma's smile was genuine, and Yakim Douan knew that he had once again satisfied the man that he was indeed in the presence of a God-Voice, that the machinations of Yakim Douan's actions were far beyond his immediate comprehension.
It was a bluff that Yakim Douan had perfected over many lifetimes.
"What is it?" Yakim Douan asked his attendant, seeing the curious look upon Merwan Ma's face.
Merwan Ma shook his head and seemed embarrassed.
"Tell me, son," Yakim Douan said comfortingly, and he moved over and patted Merwan Ma's shoulder, uncharacteristic behavior that seemed to confuse Merwan Ma even more.
"You seem happier of late, God-Voice," the young man admitted.
Yakim Douan stepped back, surprised by the bluntness, and in truth, sur-prised a bit by the accuracy of the observation. He was feeling better, and was possessed of more energy of late. It was the gemstone, he knew. Falling into its magical swirl every day was filling him with health and strength.
"I am freed of the bonds of responsibility for now," he replied. ?You have gotten your wish, my son, for Transcendence is now an event for the future. Yatol has called upon me to remain here and oversee the momen-tous events of the day. Our Chezhou-Lei warriors will march south, likely within a couple of months, to do battle with the Jhesta Tu. And now this, Abbot Olin defeated by his brethren. No, Yatol will not let his flock be vul-nerable during these times, and so I am called to lead. And lead I shall."
Merwan Ma beamed at the proclamation, but there was something else in his expression that Yakim Douan could not quite decipher, and that unknown reminded the Chezru Chieftain poignantly that he had to remain careful.
Still, Douan could not help but feel refreshed.
Yes, Transcendence had been taken away from him, and yes, the hematite hidden in the chalice was giving him new strength and vitality. But the true change here, the true reason why a smile was often evident on his face, was exactly as he had explained it to Merwan Ma. For months, years even, his focus had been on tidying up so that he could make the transformation to a younger body. Even as the events of the day had continually dictated other-wise, Yakim Douan had stubbornly held on to his hope for Transcendence.
Now he had let go of that dream for the foreseeable future. These two events, with the Kaliit and the abbot, had shut the door and locked it. Now Douan was focused on the events at hand.
Perhaps it was time for him to revel in the present glory.