Fall of Light (The Kharkanas Trilogy 2)

Mother Dark continued, ‘Grizzin Farl, leave us now.’

‘As you wish. High Priestess, I will await you in the corridor.’ He turned and departed, closing the door behind him.

‘Mother, Lord Anomander—’

‘Is not of your concern,’ the goddess interrupted. ‘You shall place two high-backed chairs in the old throne room. I believe the raised dais is broad enough to accommodate them. One shall be of blackwood, the other bonewood. On the outside of the white chair you will set an embrasure. On the outside of my chair, an empty brazier, blackened inside and out. Also upon the outside of each chair, affix a scabbard for a sceptre. Coordinate these details with High Priestess Syntara. Lord Urusander and I will take upon ourselves the authority of this union, in the name of the realm. You and Syntara will attend as witnesses. For the ceremony itself, none other shall be present. A formal announcement afterwards will constitute the only public acknowledgement of the marriage. Three days of feasting will follow. Each and every Greater or Lesser House will give freely of its largesse.’

Emral Lanear listened to these instructions, delivered with an utter absence of warmth, and looked upon a face devoid of emotion. It was better than she had expected. ‘Lord Urusander leads his legion to the city, Mother. How soon do you wish this private ceremony?’

‘As soon as possible. Inform Lord Anomander that the highborn must convene. It is expected that Lord Urusander will wish to advance reparations on behalf of his soldiers, although it is likely that he will delegate in that regard. The Greater Houses must yield land, wealth and labour, but these are matters of administration and, one presumes, bargaining. Bring no details to my attention – I have little interest in how the carcass is apportioned.’

‘And in matters of faith, Mother?’

The goddess seemed to flinch at the question. ‘I offered you all an empty vessel, or so you imagined it. I was witness, then, to your varied ways of filling it. Yet what was hidden within, which none of you chose to see, is now displaced, and now, perhaps, must be considered dead.’ She raised a thin hand. ‘Are you eager for a list of prohibitions? For prescribed positions and holy ordinances? Am I to tell you the way to live your life? Am I to lock doors, draw close shutters? Am I to guide you like children, with all the maternal needs of a mother upon whose tit you will all feed, until your dying day? What words do you wish from me, Emral Lanear? A list of all the deeds that will earn the slap of my hand, or my eternal condemnation? What crimes are acceptable in the eyes of your goddess? Whose murder is justified by your faith in me? Whose suffering shall be considered righteously earned, by virtue of what you judge a failing of faith, or indeed sacrilege? Describe to me the apostate, the infidel, the blasphemer – for surely such accusations come not from me, but from you, High Priestess, you and all who will follow you, in your appointed role of speaking for me, deciding for me, acting in my name, and justifying all that you would do in your worship of your goddess.’

‘From faith,’ replied Emral Lanear, ‘do we not seek guidance?’

‘Guidance, or the organized assembly and reification of all the prejudices you collectively hold dear?’

‘You would not speak to us!’

‘I grew to fear the power of words – their power, and their powerlessness. No matter how profound or perceptive, no matter how deafening their truth, they are helpless to defend themselves. I could have given you a list. I could have stated, in the simplest terms, that this is how I want you to behave, and this must be the nature of your belief, and your service, and your sacrifice. But how long, I wonder, before that list twisted in interpretation? How long before deviation yielded condemnation, torture, death?’ She slowly leaned forward. ‘How long, before my simple rules to a proper life become a call to war? To the slaughter of unbelievers? How long, Emral Lanear, before you begin killing in my name?’

‘Then what do you want of us?’ Lanear demanded.

‘You could have stopped thinking like children who need to be told what’s right and what’s wrong. You damned well know what’s right and what’s wrong. It’s pretty simple, really. It’s all about harm. It’s about hurting, and not just physical, either. You want a statement for your faith in me? You wish me to offer you the words you claim to need, the rules by which you are to live your lives? Very well, but I should warn you, every deity worthy of worship will offer you the same prescription. Here it is, then. Don’t hurt other people. In fact, don’t hurt anything capable of suffering. Don’t hurt the world you live in, either, or its myriad creatures. If gods and goddesses are to have any purpose at all, let us be the ones you must face for the crimes of your life. Let us be the answer to every unfeeling, callous, cruel act you committed, every hateful word you uttered, and every spiteful wound you delivered.’

‘At last!’ cried Emral Lanear.

‘You didn’t need me for that rule.’

‘No, Mother, we didn’t. We don’t. But now, at least, we have you to tell us that doing the right thing is actually worth something. Abyss knows, this mortal world rarely rewards such generosity of spirit!’

‘Doesn’t it? Well, if you believe that wealth and power are rewards, then yes, you would be right. Alas, they’re not.’

‘But those who have neither will suffer, often at the hands of those who do.’

‘Alas, the wealthiest among us are also the most childish of us, in their acquisitiveness, their selfishness, their stubborn denial of the obvious truth that it is better to share than to hoard, for hoarding breeds resentment, and resentment will, in the end, get you killed. The face of the one sitting atop a hoard is a child’s face, obstinate and stubborn. Is it any wonder such people would twi

st and distort any and every faith that preaches love?’

‘Love?’

Mother Dark was silent for a long moment, and then she leaned back. ‘Oh, Emral Lanear. Even when I but showed it, when I refused to give it a word, see how quickly it was poisoned by all who looked upon it. None of you could abide it, could you? It is yet to occur to any of you, I think, that in naming you all children, I was not being complimentary.’

‘Then I deem you presumptuous.’

‘As you will. As you will.’

‘So, Mother, is that all? Our realm is now divided in its faith. You can expect Syntara to have taken her religion into that place of prescription and prohibition. She will have made her list, her rules.’

‘Father Light shall prove more than just a title,’ Mother Dark replied. ‘As Syntara shall soon discover. I know Vatha Urusander. I admire him, and respect him. Syntara’s present freedom shall not last. If I can give Urusander very little, I will at least awaken him to his newfound power. Beyond that, let there be justice.’

The promise chilled the heart of Emral Lanear.

* * *

Heavy with mud and spattered gore, Captain Kellaras turned his head, blinking blood from his eyes as he scanned the heaps of dead and dying men and women. He could see where Ivis had gone down, ringed in the corpses of those who’d fought at his side, and those Legion soldiers who had surrounded them. Perhaps Draconus was among them, yet one more cold body leaking into the mud. But he doubted it. There had been strange blooms of impenetrable darkness, stains in the air. There had been a hoarse cry, filled with grief and rage, dwindling as if the one voicing that cry had retreated, fleeing, or had been somehow devoured by the darkness itself.