Slow Turns The World (23 page)

They did not walk alone; many others issued from the web of passages and were converging upon the throne chamber.  Finally they passed through open doors that were greater than the city gates of Etoradom into an enormous hall.  It was, as Torrin might have guessed, a triangle, but it was also a pyramid and three huge inclined walls rose to a summit high above them.  The lower walls were stone but wooden shutters obscured the upper half.  Torrin guessed correctly that the higher section was glass and that when this part of the world lay beneath the sun the chamber was bathed in light and warmth.  Now the darkness was held back, and what warmth there was in this chill cavernous space was contained a little longer.

Standing empty was a throne carved from stone, entwined with creatures good and evil, noble and corrupt.  Low balustrades divided the chamber.  His Lordship turned to Torrin.

“You will remain in the outer area with the other servants and those not of the priesthood.  I advise you to make some attempt to participate in the worship.  Bowing the head and mumbling at the appropriate moments will be sufficient.  Instruct your young friend likewise.”  

His Lordship walked on to take his place nearer the throne.  Valhad was already amongst those waiting in the outer zone and was gazing all around in bemused wonder.   There were many people gathered in the chamber now, perhaps two hundred, but still it seemed a vast empty space waiting to be filled.  Torrin gently guided Valhad to the back of the hall where they might be less observed and passed on His Lordship's instructions.  Valhad laughed a little.

“For a deeply religious people they spend little time in worship.”

“You are mistaken,” whispered Torrin, “They are most devout in their worship of wealth and power.”

A fanfare silenced them and, at the opposite end of the chamber, doors swung slowly inwards.  A procession of priests shuffled in, dressed in white robes.  They were elders of the church, stooped and shuffling in their walk, gray in their dwindling hair.   Next came a smaller group of younger priests, heavily armed with alert watchful eyes; the Emperor’s guard slid silently into their places, spacing themselves around the throne while the old men stood in a wider semicircle.  Silence descended upon the chamber and was then disturbed by a distant sound growing louder; the tap, tap, of a staff upon the stone floor.  

Torrin's first impression of the Emperor was to remind him of Perrith.  There was a similarity in the upright posture, the deep thoughtful eyes, the skin creased like worn leather.  But His Supreme Holiness was older, his close-cropped hair and beard snow-white, and his upright stance seemed brittle.  He tried to hold the staff as if it were no more than a symbol of power, but when he took his deliberate steps across the chamber the knuckles squeezed it hard.  He climbed the few steps to the throne and sat, resting the staff across his knees.   Amongst those gathered a chanting voice began to recite some verses in an ancient tongue.  The priests bowed their heads and mumbled occasional responses while the Emperor scanned them distastefully and remained silent.

Prayers followed, then a reading from the Text; finally there was an expectant silence and all eyes looked to the throne.   The Emperor gave the subtlest of nods, which seemed to pass down through a hierarchy until Cardinal Saloxe was beckoned to step forward.  He approached the throne and bowed subserviently.

“Supreme Holiness, I bring with me records of the city and its environs for your inspection.”

The Emperor fixed a predatory gaze upon the cardinal.

“How many volumes this time?” he demanded in an irritated, impatient tone.

“There are ten volumes, Supreme Holiness; the records are most comprehensive.”

“Cardinal, I have no interest in how many sacks of flour were sold last moon.  What are you doing about the heretics?  Tell me that.”

“There is a full report within the records.”

“Hidden in the records, buried in the records.   Does you think I am stupid?  Have your clerks extract from the volumes all matters relating to heresy and let them remain here until it is done.”

“Supreme Holiness, this will be done swiftly.  Do not concern yourself overmuch with tales that reach you here; all is well in order.  For our success in this we must thank Lord Vagis, who has taken charge of this issue in the city.”

Torrin saw His Lordship’s lip twitch slightly.

‘
Yes
,’ thought Torrin, ‘
for our success, but also for our failure. Saloxe damns with praise.’
 

“Yes, indeed, Lord Vagis,” said the Emperor, “have him brought to the throne.”

His Lordship heard the words but waited for the chain of whispered summonses to reach him before walking forward to stand beside Saloxe.

“Lord Vagis,” said His Supreme Holiness,  “I was pleased to hear of your return and of the cargo you brought to the treasury.”

“It is my honour to serve, Holiness.”

“The world has turned some since we were last in council, Lord Vagis.”

“It has, Holiness.”

“And have our plans progressed as intended?”

“Indeed, Holiness; all is now in place.”

“And no word of our purpose has escaped?”

“No, Holiness; it was as you commanded.”

“We should not forget it was my then clerk, now Cardinal Saloxe, who argued most forcibly for the measures to be taken.”

“I have not forgotten, Holiness, that your clerk… I beg forgiveness… that the Cardinal ensured that our activities and intentions could not be known to our enemies.”

‘They are talking about the ship,’
thought Torrin
. ‘
They paid the Qualzes to take the ship when it left Etoradom and to slaughter everyone aboard.  That was Saloxe’s plan.  It was part of the bargain they made at the Straits of Nencuz; but only part; there was another greater purpose that is still hidden.’
 

“All of you should know this,” said the Emperor, scanning the chamber, “that when I asked the Synod for one man to be my agent, to travel far and expand God’s empire, that only one man, only this man had both the courage to offer himself and the wisdom to complete the task.  We thank God for his safe return.”

He looked again distastefully at the white-robed clerics.

“Will you look at these wise men, Lord Vagis?  I asked you for service and you gave it to me.  I ask these men one question; these, our most eminent theologians, and they fail me.   Do you know I had them dragged from their beds, from their fine villas and warm concubines, to be brought here, just to answer this one question?   But perhaps you, Lord Vagis, perhaps you might know an answer.”

“I am not a theologian, Holiness.”

“Let us show Lord Vagis why we spend our time here.”  The elders shuffled uncomfortably; the Emperor barked at them impatiently.

“Well come on, make ready!”

The clerics dispersed and, after a little nervous confusion, spread around the room.  Assisted by priests of lower ranks they lowered down the chandeliers and stubbed out the wicks, so that gradually the hall became dark.   Only a few candles gathered around the throne remained and in their faint light the Emperor rose upon his staff.  There was no sound of wind from outside now, only an expectant silence filled with heartbeats.

“Show us!” The Emperor's voice filled the darkness.  For a moment all was quiet, and then the cords were pulled to release the shutters.  High above them the countless wooden panels slid down within their runners, clattering, falling, cascading down to thudding impacts.   A crashing wave of noise, followed by a moment’s silence, then two hundred intakes of breath released together as a single sigh of wonder.

The clouds had blown away, and beneath the glass pyramid the sea of upturned faces was bathed in starlight.  Through all that is creation eyes turn to heaven and gaze upon many skies.  For some there is but a scattering of stars across the velvet black, for others myriad moons, silver tailed comets and the wheels of fire that are galaxies.  So it was here, in this little part of all that is, the sky was filled with glittering jewels and spirals of white fire.  The Emperor's white hair glowed in the starlight as he looked again upon those gathered.

“We have heard many rumours, Lord Vagis, through many turnings of the world, about those that wandered into the darkness and saw jewels upon the sky.  So I sent a mission here, into deep darkness, where no man has ever walked or lived.  Not until now, for only Etoradom has the power to warm and feed a palace in this night of the world.  They told me what they had seen and then I came.  And I will not leave until I have an answer.  What is this that we see?”

“Holiness,” said His Lordship, “I see how great is the Creation of God.”

“But what is it?”

“Surely Holiness, the Text…”

“The Text?  All these so-called wise men have looked for the answer in the Text.  And what is the best that they can do?   The book of Grogram, chapter 24, verse 5:  'God shall scatter seeds to the winds of heaven'.  What does that tell me?  What use is that?”

His Lordship, gazing upwards, seemed distracted and thoughtful as he replied.

“Are we to know all of God's work, Holiness?”

“Do you know what the heretics will say?  That it is not in the Text because men did not know of it, and men it was that wrote the Text; that it is not God's word.  They already use our own scripture against us.  I am not blind, I have seen the scrawling on the walls of the temples.”

“Such offences are much reduced, Holiness.”

“For how long?  Even you, Lord Vagis, with all your efficiency, will not hold back the tide.  And even you can give no answer to my question.  Is there no one who can tell me of this?”

The Emperor stared again at the night sky and shook his head.

“Holiness.”  Valhad's voice called across the chamber.  Torrin cursed to himself and wished he had clamped a hand across his friend's mouth the moment the question was asked.   The crowd turned as in the silver light Valhad stepped forward and spoke.

“Holiness.  I am from a people far away and was not brought up in your faith.  It is only recently that I have become a... scholar of the Text.  My people are simple, we have no written scriptures, but to my tribe God is the Maker of all Things.  Maker, not ruler or judge.  After He made the world long ago, He made us and gave us a knowing of what is right and wrong.  First he left the world standing still in the sky and then, long after passed by again and found us fat and lazy; that was why he breathed upon the world and made it slowly turn, so that we might never be still.  But he is a maker, maker of worlds, maker of all things, maker of mischief…  His work is never done.  I think what you see now is his work; the countless suns that he has made to give light to countless worlds.”

There were mumbles in the chamber.  'Blasphemy' was whispered.  The Emperor motioned for silence.

“Young man, I thank God you have come to our faith from heathen darkness but you have much still to learn.  Study your Text with greater care and know that it is written that this world is the heart of all creation.   We are unique, not one of many.   To believe otherwise diminishes us.    Learn this well before you speak out lest it be the Brothers of Redemption who complete your education.  Now all of you listen, even this heathen born in ignorance can offer me an answer to this question but you fail me.  There is some news for the heretics to delight in.  Give me an answer, according to the Text.  Or stay here until the sun rises again.”

The Emperor walked briskly from the chamber, staff tapping a swift rhythm, his entourage following in disarray.   

His Lordship beckoned Torrin to him.

“You will ensure that your friend does not express his opinions publicly again.”

“I will do that, Lord, I promise you.”

“I will shortly take private council with His Holiness.”

His Lordship was summoned soon after and Torrin found himself redundant for a while.  His first thought was to find a warm spot and sleep but then he saw that Valhad had gone from the chamber.  Had he really brought his young friend here in a bid to keep him out of trouble?  Quietly cursing this miscalculation he left the hall.  Another servant had seen Valhad pass and directed Torrin down a long winding passage ending in a doorway.  He pulled the door open, looked out into the night, and felt at once the piercing cold.  Cloaks were hung beside the door; he wrapped himself well and stepped outside.   

The great moon Azex had risen and had combined with the myriad stars to light the world in a ghostly radiance.   In the crisp snow that layered the path a single set of footprints led away.  He followed, with soft crunching steps, between rows of rianna trees that stretched their naked limbs upwards into moonlight.  A broad flight of steps led him to a high place, a viewpoint set upon a tower of rock.   Valhad was there, gazing out toward the palace.  Torrin saw its shape now for the first time; a cluster of triple sided pyramids upon a high rocky seat.  Valhad cast a glance at Torrin and sighed.

“Is His Lordship angry with me?” he asked.

“I do not think you will be his first choice to accompany any future visits.”

“I was careful in my choice of words.”

“Silence might have been a better.”

“Silence, yes.  That's why I came out here.  What do the Vasagi teach, Torrin, of knowing right and wrong?”

“They teach that which you know well, Valhad, that within us there is a tiny gift from the Maker; a knowing what is right, and what is wrong.  And that if we seek silence and listen for the quietest voice in our hearts it will tell us what should be.”

“When I listen, Torrin, I hear so much more.  It is good that we have come here; it has shown me something more than I could have guessed.  The words whisper within me, what they say is so simple, and yet it is the greatest thing that a man can know.”

“What are these words, Valhad?”

Valhad breathed deeply the biting cold air as if it were some delicious scent.  He looked up at the sky blazing with a million stars, and then he looked to Torrin and spoke.

“That there is no darkness.”