Chapter VIII:
The Kingdom of Seasons
Sky Prison
Agonas and the other elves of Sunlan understood very little of what happened to them in the next several months following their capture. They remained bound nearly all the while, only being allowed the use of their hands for a short time each day, and only when it was necessary for the sake of cleanliness or for eating. They were never given enough light or freedom to discover where they were held. They were not permitted to see the sun and they could get no answers from their captors.
They were quickly handed off to another group of warriors and brought after several weeks to a large city - or so Agonas guessed from the sounds and smells. They were placed before a large group of people, who seemed to be deliberating about them fiercely. Xan spoke quickly and angrily in the language of their captors, protesting their accusations violently. From what little Agonas could discern, they had been put on trial for some crime (trespassing he assumed) and found guilty. The term 'LofBrusht' was one of the few words that he recognized, and it was spoken over and over throughout the trial. When all was finished, a loud bang echoed through the hall, and a booming voice cried out, 'Ifin, adto LofBrusht!' The elves were immediately grabbed and pushed out of the hall, thrown into a carriage and transported far from the city in a direction Agonas could not hope to guess. For a long period of time they traveled in this manner, stopping sometimes to spend a few days in this or that village, but never being allowed to see their surroundings or have any respite from their rough treatment.
Finally, after a few more weeks they came to a place that smelled heavily of tree sap. They were forced to drink something rather foul, and then a black, dreamless sleep took them for a long while.
When Agonas awoke he thought for a moment that he was back upon his ship. But even as he opened his eyes he began to remember how the ship had been wrecked, and everything else that had come to pass since that time. Having spent so much time bound and blinded of late, however, he could not guess how long ago it had been.
Even as he thought on these things, though, he noticed that the place where he lay was indeed tipping like a ship tossed about on the waves. He rose, clumsily from his bed - it was not at all an uncomfortable bed, much to his surprise. He began to walk toward an open doorway through which he could see a great deal of greenery, but as he approached he felt the whole building tip and he lost his footing. He fell to the ground with a thud and grasped for something to hold onto. Out the window he now saw that the house in which he had awoken was built atop an enormous pine tree. The ground loomed toward him as the tree bent under the weight of the house and under the power of a gentle but steady breeze. He gasped, and braced himself for the crash, though he knew that from this height there was no chance that he might survive the fall. Just as he became certain that he was falling the tree halted, paused, and then swung back in the opposite direction, the great strength of the tree trunk fighting against the wind.
'It was like that for me when I awoke,' Zefru admitted, laying upon his own soft bed staring up at the ceiling as if he were perfectly at his leisure.
'Where are we?' Agonas said, slowly coming to terms with the constant movement of their - 'prison?'
'If this is what prison means to the Sesana,' Zefru said with a laugh, 'then I have been a thief in the wrong land!'
'Perhaps the prisons in Sunlan are like this too - you have never been caught,' Agonas replied in jest.
'That is true enough,' Zefru said. 'But that does not mean that I have not seen the stink pits they have built in Sunlan for those they deem unworthy of freedom.'
'What is going on?' Agonas asked, remembering their purpose. 'Where are the others?'
'They are near,' Zefru said. 'In a tree just a potato's throw north of here. You can hear them talking in the night - and so I threw potato at them to silence them. It was just about as far as I could toss it.'
'How long have I been sleeping?' Agonas said, realizing that Zefru's comfort must have meant that he had been awake for much longer.
'You have slept a full two days longer than I. But do not worry, I,' and Zefru placed great emphasis on that word, 'have not picked your pockets.'
'Curse those blabbering fools,' Agonas said with a hiss, remembering how they had taken his sword from him. 'What are they going to do with us?'
'Hopefully leave us up here forever,' Zefru said. 'I am one for the city. Make no mistake, my lord, but I think I could get used to a life like this one. Fresh meals are sent up in buckets each day - not great food - but fresh and wholesome. The wind at night is a bit frightening, but the Sesana have assured us that these trees have stood here for nearly an age of the world. They call them "Dragon-thorn", or something like that.'
'Then our captors have spoken with you?' Agonas said curiously.
'Not directly,' Zefru said. 'Most of what I have learned came from Xan; but there is only so much information that he was willing to shout at me. There is a grey-haired man, however - a learned man by the look of him - who came for the past few days and poured soup down your throat and kept your bed clean. He and several guards came up and spoke for a little while.'
'What sort of a man is he?' Agonas said suspiciously.
'He might have been a priest of some kind, or perhaps a sage. He spent a good deal of time over in the love-nest yesterday,' Zefru shook his head in the direction of Xan's tree. 'The two of them never seem to tire of learning - it is enough to make one sick. "Tell me of your people's legends, oh Xan of Thure,"' Zefru said with a false whine. '"Oh Gheshtick, wise man of the north,"' he continued to mock, '"tell me of the economics in Centan - and of the twistings and windings of the River Esse on which your sage-peasants dwell."'
Agonas chuckled. 'I should be happy, then, I guess,' he laughed, 'that I have been put here in your company rather than in theirs.'
'You should thank all the gods, my lord - and do not forget the God of gods, or the Jinn of the Sparkans.'
'The Sparkans,' Agonas said, remembering their dwarven companions. 'I don't suppose we will see them again.'
'If I were one of them, I would return to Sparka and forget they ever knew what an elf was - or,' he said with a slight grin, 'I would sneak over here to LofBrusht and chop down these trees. Or maybe I would send up a Gargantan.'
'I don't think you can make those monsters do what you want them to do,' Agonas said, remembering the terror of GarBrusht. The memory of the sound of Udraja's cracking skull made his knees feel weak for a moment. He sat down upon his bed again. It really was a nice bed, he thought. 'Can we climb down from here?' he asked after a little time had passed.
'You can try,' Zefru said. 'But there are not many branches, and we are not the tree's only inhabitants. There are enormous nests of serpents and some frogs that Xan assured me were deadly poisonous. Since I cannot ask the old man myself I figured I would trust what I hear. I don't think Xan would warn me if he meant me any ill will.'
'How do we eat?' Agonas said, suddenly turning his attention to his empty stomach.
'Oh, there is a rope and a pulley, as I said, too weak to bear a man's weight, but strong enough to bring up food and drink.'
'Where?' Agonas said anxiously.
'There, next to the stove,' Zefru pointed.
The prison in which they were kept - if prison is the right word for such a place - was fastened to the trunk of the tree by a great leathern cord that seemed to wrap around the trunk a thousand time, securing the 'box' in which their beds were built to the tree while still allowing a significant amount of movement to take place. As the tree swayed, the box swayed, and were it not for the fact that all the furniture was fastened to the wooden floorboards, everything would spill out over the edge whenever the wind blew hard enough. The box in which their quarters lay was like the inside of a tiny house, but there was no door, and no windows either. There were leather tarps that could be tied down, and these did a great deal to hold the warmth of a smal
l iron stove within the box. Next to the stove lay a pile of wood, a small basket filled with bread and a pitcher of water heavy enough to stay put despite all the motion of the tree.
For a long while Agonas did nothing more than stuff himself with stale bread and cold ham.
Distant Kinship
From shouting back and forth across the space between their two trees, Agonas learned from Xan that they had been captured for trespassing, just as he had suspected. Thure and the Adapnan were known to the Sesana, and they believed Xan's claim that he was the lord of that northern village. In fact it was only because they believed their tale that they did not place them in a less pleasant prison, and they had assured Xan that they had many such places within their kingdom.
The man who had come to see them was named Robern, and after the elves had been in the prison of LofBrusht for two more weeks he returned, this time with a great deal of parchment and ink. He went first to see Agonas, and to make sure that he and Zefru were in good health.
Spring had come, and the forest had become quite beautiful. The Dragon-thorn pine trees were green throughout the year, but in spring they were decked with beautiful purple and pink flowers the size of a man's chest that blossomed from great coiling vines that grew around their trunks. In every direction these great swaying gardens could be seen dancing on the gentle spring breeze. During that time Agonas became convinced that these cells had not been made to be prisons originally.
Robern was old enough to be fully grey, but not so old that he showed any sign of world-weariness or senility. His eyes were bright grey and filled with life and wisdom. He was a lettered man, and could speak many tongues, though he knew very little of the language of Thure (which was quite similar to the language of Bel Albor). Xan knew the tongue of Sesana well enough, however and the two spent a great deal of time in conversation.
'It is not like a man of Kharku,' Robern said to Xan, 'to cast his lot so fully with foreign adventurers. What of your people? What of your family? What of the legacy of Thure and its Adapnan?'
'My people are well cared for,' Xan replied. 'I would not, nor have I left them without a protector.'
'But you are Adapnan,' he replied. 'Surely they could have no better protector.'
'Whether that is the case or not is unclear,' Xan replied. 'If you were so certain that the Adapnan were the best rulers, then you would have made my ancestors your lords ages ago. No, the Sesana have always distrusted the Adapnan, and so your question is insincere. Is it any wonder, then, that you find me to be so distrustful of you? Perhaps the people of Thure are better off without me.'
'Very well,' Robern said, scratching his head thoughtfully, 'But still, why have you cast your lot with these outsiders? What are you here in Sesana to accomplish? You know as well as I that one cannot simply let anyone march through their land armed as if for battle.'
'We are not here to trouble the Kingdom of Seasons,' Xan said firmly.
'I believe you, master of Thure,' Robern said patiently. 'But nonetheless, you are here for something. What is it? It may not be to harm Sesana - I cannot pretend to know. But only by knowing the truth can I truly rule out that which you deny. Shall we remain here until I have guessed and you have denied every purpose, so that only one remains? The Kingdom of Seasons is an ancient kingdom, and we can wait for an answer. You, my dear Adapnan, can wait too.'
Xan breathed out slowly through his nose. He had no intention of telling this man anything. It was not for him to reveal Agonas' mission, and he knew that the Sesana would look upon them with disdain if they knew their purposes. In their chief city there was a sculpture of the Great Beast, which was credited with the long survival of the city of Sesno.
'You must understand,' Xan said sorrowfully, 'I cannot tell you that. I would be willing to tell you anything, and I know why you must know that which you ask of me - for I too am a guardian of souls- but what you ask of me would be a betrayal.'
'If that is the way it must be, then so it must be,' Robern said. 'Know, however, that I would not ask such a thing were it not for the duty that presses against me - my duty to this country and its thousands.'
'I understand as well.'
Robern rose from his seat and gathered up his parchments and his quill, which were disappointingly blank. He stretched and made a motion toward his guards, who approached him and took up the empty baskets which had brought provisions to the prisoners. Gheshtick sat on a chair nearby, watching curiously. Robern had taken a brief look at him to make sure that he was in good health, but since he knew nothing of the language of Sesana, there was little more that could be learned from him.
'But may I ask, for my own understanding,' Robern said suddenly, pausing as he made his way toward the lift that had brought him and the guards up to the prison. 'Why these foreigners? I do not press you for an answer on his purpose, but I do wish to understand why it is that you would forsake all for these strangers. Why would you leave Thure? Why would you risk life and freedom for them?'
'They are as I am,' Xan said, not sure if it was wise to share this information with his captor.
'They are Adapnan?' Robern said, his brow furrowed in amazement. 'I thought the Adapnan were only born in Thure.'
'There is a kingdom of them in the far north,' Xan said, 'A great kingdom, where the king lives in a palace of gold. They have come from B'alboru, whence my ancestors departed in an age long passed. In them I see the answer to many riddles, and from them I stand to learn the history of my people.'
'Is this truly the reason? You are faithful to these Adapnan for the sake of history? For the sake of curiosity?' Robern said, somewhat incredulously.
'There are few coincidences, properly so called, in this world, master Robern,' Xan said. 'What a coincidence it would be, if my people left their ancient homes in search of the goddess Eva'Nai and these Adapnan - or, 'elves' as they call themselves - should depart from a port named Evnai - named for a goddess of the same denomination. And how great a coincidence it would be that they and we of Thure should speak the same tongue, though much has apparently changed in the pronunciation. No, master Robern, I do not believe in such coincidences easily. Rather, I ascribe these strange facts to a common cause, and our peoples to a common people. The people of Thure have long been held in disdain as strangers among the Kharukers. But we are strangers; our history and our people lie elsewhere.'
'Then it is,' Robern said with a pause, 'out of kinship? You follow them because they are, however distantly, relatives to the people of Thure?'
'Do you have children, master Robern?' Xan asked.
After giving it a moment of thought, and looking around the prison suspiciously, Robern decided it would be safe to answer him. 'I have three sons,' he said.
'And what do they owe one another? And what do you owe them?' Xan asked. 'If one were in danger, would you not give your life for him?'
'Without delay, master Adapnan,' Robern said without any sign of hesitation.
'And what do you wish for them? Do you wish for them to abandon one another, or do you want them to care one for the other? You would not, for instance, want the eldest to leave his younger brother to drown, without some small effort to save his brother's life.'
'No, I would not want that,' Robern affirmed.
'And what of your grandchildren?' Xan continued. 'You would want your sons to value and preserve them, even as you have valued and preserved your own sons. They would, in fact, be ungrateful if they treated their own children with less regard than you had for them. But should the children of the elder be utterly neglected by your youngest child? If, the gods forbid it, your eldest were to perish, would it not be the responsibility of the other brothers to look after the care and upbringing of their brother's children?'
'It would be, according to the laws of Sesana, and according to the laws of mankind.'
'This is all that I do here,' Xan said suddenly. 'I am looking after my father's sons.'
After ta
king a moment to reflect upon this, Robern nodded pensively. 'It is true what they say about the wisdom of Thure,' he said as he began to leave once again. 'I hope that all ends well with you and your companions,' he added. 'But you understand that I can do nothing for you if you are not willing to answer me fully.'
Xan nodded understandingly.
'Until we speak again, master Xan of Thure, let the winds blow warm upon you!' Robern said.
'Let them blow warm upon you as well,' Xan replied, taking the blessing to be some custom of Sesana.
The Changing Land
The hours and days soon turned to weeks and months, and the prisoners of LofBrusht, which Agonas learned meant 'High-Forest', soon began to find that they understood the language of the Sesana.
Robern returned every other week, bringing leather bound books and scrolls for the elves to read and examine. And soon they could read as well as speak the language of the Kingdom of Seasons. Robern could now ask, and not just examine them to determine their health.
Zefru, much to Agonas' amazement, seemed to have an unbreakable contentedness while they were imprisoned in the sky. Perhaps it was because he had spent uncountable years fleeing imprisonment that the sudden release - though it came in the form of the imprisonment he feared - was restful to his soul. He had no worries, no distresses, and no fears. He took to rope-making, which he joked was going to be their means of escape. He soon learned to make ropes from the vines that grew upon the great Dragon-thorn trees. He also learned that the vines with red leaves should NEVER be handled, and that none of the berries that grew in LofBrusht were fit for eating. He wished, however, that he had learned these things from conversations with Robern, and not through his own experience.
The Dragon-thorn were easy enough trees to climb, though no man could hope to climb all the way to the ground without a good, sturdy rope. There were guards patrolling the forest below, and they would discover anyone trying to climb down long before they could reach the ground. This was especially the case since, as the elves learned from Robern, they were currently the only prisoners in LofBrusht. It was, as Agonas suspected; these little houses were not originally built to be a prison. The Sesana had put the elves here, in part, Agonas thought, to win them over by the beauty and tranquility of the forest. If they were enemies of Sesana, then they must reckon with that which they hoped to destroy. In truth it was mostly out of respect for Xan, who was a legitimate ruler in Kharku. They could not let them go, according to their laws and their customs, but they would not harm or maltreat one who was a lord of men.
Zefru took to climbing the Dragon-thorn, and for many hours at a time he would disappear from the box and return with eggs or sometimes even birds for eating. 'There are some big snakes not far from here,' he told Agonas. They could swallow a child,' he exclaimed. 'We should not sleep too soundly I think.' But Zefru slept as soundly as anyone ever had. He, for the only time in his life, had peace in the prison of LofBrusht.
Agonas, on the other hand, spent his ours in torment of mind. The beauty of the prison had much the same effect upon him as it had upon Zefru and the others. But every moment that passed he thought about his brother, and whether or not he had succeeded in his own mission. If too much time passed, he thought, they would think that he was dead, and, the thought gnawed upon him, they would give the hand of Indra, daughter of Ijjan, to another.
Untold months passed, and soon they knew the language of Sesana well enough to be questioned themselves. From Zefru Robern could learn nothing, and all of his questions seemed to be directed toward convincing their captors to keep them in LofBrusht indefinitely. This agitated Agonas, since he knew that it was ridiculous to think that they would maintain the expense of keeping and feeding them forever - and it would be forever, since they were elves, or Adapnan, as the Kharukers called them.
In his conversations with Gheshtick, Robern always walked away with the feeling that he had been the one who had been interrogated. For the most part this was the case. He had gone up to see if he could learn anything about their mission from Gheshtick, but he had spent three hours explaining the doctrines and practices of the Sesana priests. How this had happened he could not recall. But it was impossible to ask the elf anything without answering ten questions yourself.
Agonas was polite to him, but he would say nothing to him concerning their mission. As time went on, however, Agonas despaired of the possibility that he would find some way to escape. Pelas would be only too happy to return from his quest alone, and would make no effort to learn what had happened to his brother. That bitter thought was particularly strong in his mind one day when Robern ascended to the prison. So powerful was its influence upon his mood that he found himself angrily responding, 'We have come to slay the Drake-Ya - the Beast of the Earth.'
When first he heard this Robern laughed. When he saw the sincerity in Agonas' face, however, he halted, realizing that it was no jest. When he further saw the immortal passion behind the elf's gaze he was almost convinced that the elf might succeed.
'The Drake'Ya is called the Changer in Sesana,' Robern said, taking a seat by the stove. He looked curiously for a moment at a basket filled with blue and crimson eggs that Zefru had gathered from the high branches of the Dragon-thorn. He sighed and then continued, 'The world is change. Life is change. Death is change. All is change,' he said as though reciting something. 'He who fights it sets themselves against the order of all things. And he who strives against the world will be crushed thereby.' He then looked Agonas straight in the eyes and said, 'We cannot allow you to harm the Beast.'
Agonas sat down and shrugged his shoulders. 'How could I harm it?' he asked grumpily. 'I cannot escape from a tree-house; what chance have I against such a beast?'
'An ill wind can carry a disease upon its gentle flows,' Robern said. 'And a little wind in a sickly village can spread death to thousands. You may feel yourself to be small and insignificant; any decent man is aware of as much. But the good man understands that even a little person can do great harm.'
'Harm?' Agonas said, puzzled. 'Would I not be hailed as a hero for slaying the Beast?'
'By some,' Robern answered. 'By most,' he admitted. 'But not in Sesana,' added firmly.
'Do the Sesana worship the Beast, then?' Agonas asked.
'Hardly,' the old man replied in frustration. 'You do not understand the our kingdom, master elf.'
'Then explain it to me,' Agonas said, crossing his arms. 'I am not going anywhere and I have plenty of time to sit and listen.'
Robern was not quite sure whether the other man was sincere in his interest or not. When Agonas made no further comments, he began to speak about Sesana.
'Ours is a Kingdom of Seasons,' he began, 'for that is what the term Sesana means in the common tongue of Kharku. But a season is not a season for remaining idle. Here in the south it is not like the Peppered Desert, where there is but heat and sand throughout the year. Here change comes to the land and the air. The winter buries us beneath mounds of snow. The summer scorches our flesh, the spring eases our labors with cool breezes and waters our crops with heavy rains. The autumn nourishes the land with the passing of the leaves, and fills our storehouses for the coming winter. All of this is change, and we have embraced it as a people and as a land. Many kingdoms strive to maintain themselves the same way at all times. But ages of the world are like seasons too. And he who thrives in a summer age might perish in the winter - I speak here of ages and kingdoms, not of men. The Kingdom of Seasons has understood this; and we know that the time will come when we must abandon our cities perhaps, or when we must take to the seas, or when we must make a living among the rocks of the mountains, or even in the desert. Change rolls through all lands, and we alone welcome it and embrace it. The Beast is a destroyer. All change destroys that which was with that which now is. So also with the Beast. He will awaken, and perhaps he will consume Sesno itself - he has done as much many times before. But we have embraced it. For a destr
uction is also a creation.'
Agonas looked at him with wonder for minute, but then a grin came over his face. 'You have embraced change, indeed, old man of Sesana. You love it so much that you wish for it always to remain the same. Perhaps the Beast need not always ravage Kharku - THAT would be a change.'
Robern sighed, 'What about yourself?' he asked. 'What have you against the Drake'Ya, that you would traverse the mighty seas to slay him?'
'I do it not for any hatred of the Monster,' Agonas explained. 'I do it because it is only by accomplishing this feat that I can hope to win the hand-'
Before Agonas could finish his explanation Robern interrupted, 'A woman? You will slay the Lord of the Earth for a woman's hand? Will she even love you for it? If she was worthy of you she would love you whether you were a beast-slayer or not.'
'You know not the beauty of the elves,' Agonas said. 'And you do not know the beauty of Indra, princess of Sunlan. Speak to me about things you understand, or speak to me not at all.'
Robern backed away and said, 'I meant no offense. I understand how fiercely passion can motivate a man. But think of all those who stand to suffer for what you will do.'
'There are as many, I think, who will suffer regardless. I may as well test my fate against the beast.'
'You don't have to live this life,' Robern said, suddenly. 'Whatever else you think or believe, I wish only for you to understand that this path that has been set before you is not the only path. If you and your companions will lay aside your ambitions, you may all live in Sesana as free men. But if you will not repent from your plans, you will dwell in LofBrusht until the day you die. The Drake'Ya, I should add, does not come to this forest. The trees are called Dragon-thorn for a reason - it is the only region of Kharku that he cannot tread, and if the Beast awakens the people of LofBrusht will fly to the forest, and live upon the treetops until the Monster once again ceases from his feasting and raging. And for all that while you will dwell with us. Dwell with us as friends, then, and leave the old path behind. Take a wife from among our daughters - they are not goddesses, perhaps, but I do not think you will be able to say that they are ALL uncomely.'
Agonas sat down upon the edge of his bed and ran his fingers through his long black hair.
They spoke no more that day.
Arrowheads And Sundials
By the time the elves had been imprisoned for a month, Xan would later jest, Gheshtick had learned everything the other elf had ever learned. They certainly spent a great deal of time in conversation, only speaking to the other elves when they had some news to report concerning the words of their captors. And once the other elves learned to speak in the tongue of Sesana, they had little need for such conversations. Xan was not altogether unhappy with his partner in imprisonment, but he was not nearly so interested in the Far North as was Gheshtick in the ways of Thure and Kharku. He had always considered himself a learner and a scholar, but when he went two nights with barely a wink of sleep, answering complex queries about the ideas and customs of the Manlands, he decided that he no longer deserved to be called a scholar. Gheshtick was the lord of all scholars - or so he would be when at last he gave up the role of the student.
They continued to discuss the ideas of the Essenes, who Gheshtick considered the most sagacious of mortals.
Xan was respectful of what they had to say, but he was sharp with his criticism. During their long imprisonment Gheshtick brought forward many other ideas to see what Xan would say. Xan had little patience for their prophecies. 'Too vague! I have never heard a prophecy that did not utterly confuse me. And I did not ever see a prophecy fulfilled after the manner in which it was given.'
But Gheshtick was mostly interested in hearing what Xan would say about the arguments and so-called proofs of the Essenes. 'The Essenes,' he began one night, when he perceived that Xan was not in his usual irritable mood. 'believe that there is nothing more certain than that this world was formed and molded by a deeply wise creator. The ground of this belief, they say, is in the order and beauty of the world, and how fitted all things are for one another. They say that, if a man found a parchment upon the ground with letters and symbols written upon it, they would know at once that it was the work of a learned man. But lo, the world is more beautiful and more neatly ordered than a parchment. Everything is so ordered that men ought to understand, just as they understand concerning the maker of the parchment, that the world has a good and wise maker. They say that the world bears the fingerprints of its maker, and everything with such marks demonstrates the being of the great and wise God. For, they say, how can something be planned without a planner?'
Xan stepped back for a moment and thought about the doctrine. But it was not long before he smiled and said, 'There was once a man who saw a woman's name written in the stars. His name was Idu, and there are many fables about him in Kharku. But the story of Idu the Stargazer is perhaps the most humorous. Idu was torn between two women. The one he loved and the other was beloved by his mother, who did not want him to marry a woman with golden hair. Well, one night she filled his cup with wine and showed to him the starry hosts of heaven. The Astral Lords, she said to her son, have declared and decreed what is best for all men in every age. Behold, there in the heavens is the name of your spouse. If you seek an answer, look no further than the heavens. He looked, and, following the motions of her fingers, he saw the name of his mother's favorite written in the heavens. The story ends by saying, he married the girl and was miserable until the end of his days.'
Gheshtick laughed, but was giving the story deep consideration. 'What inspired this story, master Xan?' he asked. 'I think I have understood, but I would like a further explanation, if you do not mind.'
'Very well,' Xan said, 'You see, the stars will spell very nearly anything you wish to spell, especially if you are drunk enough to bend the lines a little. He might just as easily have beheld his beloved's name in the sky, and not his mother's chosen wife. But when he looked, he saw what she wanted him to see. Because it was in his mind that the heavens might choose his bride for him, he thought it to be too great a coincidence to ignore. But in truth, the stars were perfectly indifferent to his circumstances.'
'So you are saying,' Gheshtick suggested, 'that men will see what they want to see in the world.'
'Not just that,' Xan said, leaning forward in his chair. 'You would agree with me if I said that sundials are the work of men, would you not?'
'Of course,' Gheshtick answered.
'And arrowheads also? They do not, after all, grow upon trees.'
'Yes, they are made by men as well.'
'But a stick may fall in such a way as to form a sundial, and it is not, for being in the form of a sundial, the work of intelligence.'
'No,' Gheshtick admitted.
'It is recognized not because of its form alone, but because of its utility. If a thousand stones fell upon one another, we would call it an accident. But if we found them piled upon one another so as to form a house, we would believe it to have a maker. But we would believe it, not for anything in its shape or form, but because WE know what sort of creatures live in such dwellings. Having seen such things, and then seeing another, it is quite natural that we should extend our expectation to the new discovery. But if we knew nothing of man and his needs, what would we think of the house except that it was a curiosity - an odd arrangement of stones, but not any more or less fantastic than any other arrangement. It is because we know the maker, and we know his will that we can look at the devises of man and, recognizing them, assert that they have a wise maker.
'Furthermore,' Xan continued, 'A parchment is contrasted with the works of nature, in the argument of the Essenes. They have suggested that we would recognize it as the work of an intelligent creature because it is ordered and made for a purpose. But why would they not think such a thing of the soil upon which the parchment was discovered? It is because the soil shows no signs of such purpose, is it not? Otherwise, what is so significant abou
t the parchment. The arrowhead, the sundial, and any other mechanism of man is the work of wisdom for being opposed to that which is found in nature. If nature is the work of a wise God, then the examples are quite out of place. We could find the God just as well in a teaspoon of water as in a siege-tower.
'Consider it in this way,' Xan said, his words flowing faster and faster from his lips as he grew more excited. 'If the world were a place utterly unfriendly to mankind, so much so that no man could even survive - if the whole world and every other world was filled to the brim with fireballs and mud-pits, who then would say that it was the work of a wise lord?'
'I think I understand what you are saying,' Gheshtick said thoughtfully. 'It is because we value ourselves that we are wont to assume that we, like the arrowheads and sundials, were created by a wise maker. If we are not so filled with our own greatness, however, then we may be happy accidents, but we do not prove anything.'
'That is exactly right,' Xan said. 'And that is how I would answer your dear Essenes.
Gheshtick took a few moments to think over what had been said. But before he blew out his candle and took to his bed he said, 'One final thing. The Essenes insist that without the being of their God, man can neither do good or evil. He could rape and plunder without fear of punishment, and without committing sin or iniquity. Moreover, he could have every virtue without being righteous, since there would be no rewarder of works to ensure that the good and just receive their due.
Xan barked with laughter when he heard this. 'What devils!' he exclaimed. His mouth was wide open with amazement. 'They truly are the very greatest of cowards!' he said with a guffaw. 'If the only thing that makes the difference between he who murders and he who refrains is whether or not there is an angry God about, then he who does not murder is different from he who kills only for being an absolute coward! And he who strives for virtue only if he is ensured his just reward is more like a cunning merchant than a saint. Every time he gives a poor man his bread it is as though he were purchasing goods to sell in the next town for twice their worth. If that is virtue, then let the Essenes have it and their God. What a disgusting thought!'
Gheshtick laughed at the thought. 'True,' he said, 'your judgment is true. But what have you to say, then, concerning the good and the evil?'
'I say what all men know already. You do not need a terrible God in the skies to do what is right. You do not need his hells and his tortures to be kind toward your kin, or to act rightly and with propriety. Those who say otherwise reveal only their lack of wisdom, and their lack of kindness. Rewards? Punishments? This life has enough of them both to satisfy any seeker of goodness. If they need to fear hell and darkness to refrain from murder, then they are, in heart at least, enemies of mankind.'
It did not occur to Gheshtick, even as it has never occurred to the Mages of Lapulia, whose doctrines have ever mirrored the teachings of Xanthur, that to deny this last proof of the Essenes they denied man the very value upon which they found his rights and upon which they found their rules for conduct. For, if man has value in his eyes alone, then the argument of the Essenes is of no utility. But if you have, by denying man his worth, rendered the argument invalid, how do you go about restoring man's dignity?
This should not seem utterly strange to my readers, however, since men of all ages and of all peoples are wont to hold different rules when it suits them. They might say that there is nothing special about a man in order to argue that there is nothing remarkable in his coming to be; but then, when they must explain why it is a crime to slaughter a man, but it is a profession to slaughter a pig, they say it is because there is something special about the man.
The son of Falruvis said it well when he, as it was recorded in the Wars of Weldera, said that, '...a man's son is not more valuable than a pig to a pig, but only to himself.'
Fate Is In Your Hands
Agonas did not say anything to Robern about his rivalry with his brother Pelas. He was content to let the man think that his entire purpose was to win the hand of a princess. He did not think that Robern would think any more highly of him if he understood the full reason, and so he decided that one bad reason was enough. He did not need to make himself out to be doubly foolish.
The things that Robern had said to him echoed through his mind as he lay in his bed.
He could choose a different life.
He could forget about Parganas, the history of Vitiai, the elves of Thedua and the secret kingdom they had founded in Ilvas. He could forget about Sunlan and its golden palace, he could forget about his brother. He could forget about - and this forced him to swallow as pain entered his throat - Indra.
Whenever he thought about Indra he remembered what he had done to the kinswoman of Amro. He had kidnapped Ele, the kindest soul he had ever met. But she was beyond his grasp now. Indra was his by right. He had sacrificed many other things for his brother's sake. He had given so much of himself to his twin. It was not easy to abandon the old path, with so many things left unfinished, so many investments uncollected, and so many wrongs left unavenged. He did not want to think about how much of his life would prove to be an absolute waste if he turned aside now. Passion arose within him, and it threatened to consume him. He felt as if he could, merely by willing it, topple his prison to the ground and take the Drake'Ya by the tail.
But in the end he released all of this anger and frustration. He released Pelas and his ambitions. He decided to leave it all behind him, and to take Robern's offer. 'Farewell, Indra,' he said, resolving to abandon even her memory if he could manage it.
'I will never again involve myself in my brother's life. I have severed the ties of Fate. It no longer binds me to the North.'
He could not have been more mistaken.