Chapter XV

For years Sir Gilad had been the ruler of the city of Bogeid in Nihilus. When the entire city rioted and its citizens killed the Arxian soldiers there Duke Jachai sent Sir Gilad to retaliate and bring the city back under control. By the time he’d arrived the citizens had closed the gates and fortified themselves. Sir Gilad responded by capturing some of the sparrows that flew out of the city, tying burning candlewicks on the ends of strings to their legs, and then releasing them again. When the sparrows returned to their nests, in the rooftops of Bogeid the entire city soon caught fire, and then the citizens were in a hurry to surrender.

Ever since then Sir Gilad “kept the peace” in Bogeid. Every week the soldiers under his command would search each house in the city, looking for contraband such as weapons or Blackstar Talismans. Each family had at least one family member in Sir Gilad’s dungeons, not because they had done anything wrong, but because they were being held hostage in case they should try to rebel again. At the end of every week, when religious services were held in the temple, which had been converted into an Agalmite temple, Sir Gilad would have his soldiers go through the town and arrest anyone not attending the services. The punishment was one week in the dungeons, with constant flogging, as well as a fine that was the equivalent of a month’s wages.

As Ardal and the Nihilite followers he took with him approached the city walls, and his followers filled him in on this history, he could see why Elykos wanted Sir Gilad to pay for his crimes. Entering the city would be a problem, though, the city guards questioned everyone who tried to get in the gate, and besieging the city would be impossible with their current resources.

Waiting in the dead woods outside the city, Ardal addressed his followers, “Any ideas on how to get in there?”

“We thought you were our leader?” one of them asked.

Ardal had only been appointed leader because Elykos said he should lead, not because he wanted the position or because he felt he was worthy of it, so every time his followers said something like that he groaned. “I am your leader, but that doesn’t mean I always have the answers. Besides, I think a leader should lift up his followers, and listen to their advice.”

“Wasn't it Elykos himself who told you to bring us here?”

“Yes, and that was the end of what he told me. 'Go to Bogeid and punish Sir Gilad,'” Ardal said. “He never said a thing about how to get into the city, or for that matter how a handful of loyal Nihilites are going to get anywhere near a tyrannical, Arxian knight!” Ardal was getting more than a little frustrated with Elykos. He was grateful that Elykos saved him from the Inquisition, sure, but he couldn't help but feel his blood burn whenever he thought about the mission Elykos had sent him on. He'd saved his life only to order him to perform an impossible task, perhaps even a suicide mission. On the way to Bogeid, when they'd camped for the night, Ardal had prayed to Elykos, asking him for guidance, but he received none.

Ardal looked down at his right hand. The entire thing, plus most of his forearm now, had crystallized, and his shoulder on that side sagged from the weight. He needed to find that priestess, in any case, get himself healed. A part of him felt like just finding her, receiving her healing, and then abandoning the mission, leaving Elykos to fight his own stupid war. Then he realized just how ungrateful that truly would be. Normally an Agalmite priestess in Nihilus would only agree to cure someone afflicted with Gavish was if they swore loyalty to the Agalmite God, it was Elykos who had made sure the priestess in this city would heal him regardless, it was Elykos who was saving his life yet again.

And, as Ardal sat pondering this, as if thoughts could conjure up realities, he saw a young woman in clerical robes, followed by an old man in paladin's armor, walking down the road to the city. The young woman's beauty was positively breath-taking. Her blonde hair was cut short, falling just below her ear-lobes. Her robe was a pale blue, with diamonds woven into the fabric, and scripture passages, written in the ancient script, embroidered on the sleeves. Her cheeks were round just under her eyes, but narrowed down as they came down to her slim, short chin. Her lips were scarlet, though this was clearly natural, as priestesses wore no make-up. Her sapphire blue eyes, even from a distance, looked kind and soft, and large, like the eyes of a doe. As she approached the city of Bogeid Ardal could see a sad look in her eyes, and in that instant he was certain that she was the priestess Elykos had told him about.

“Wait here,” Ardal told his followers, before running off toward the priestess. He kicked up dirt and mud as he ran, waving his good arm in the air to get the priestess' attention once he was clear of the trees. “Hey! Help! Please help!” he shouted.

“By Prunikos, what is he doing?” one of his followers whispered to the others.

“Priestess! Please help!” Ardal shouted as he got closer.

Just as Ardal got close, the old paladin drew his diamond longsword and seized Ardal by his petrified arm. He swung him around until the paladin was standing behind Ardal, with the sword blade held against his throat. “What business have you with Mother Galia?”

“Sir Kedem!” the priestess yelled, clearly appalled at the old paladin's actions.

Ardal froze up, his skin going cold as the old paladin's blade touched his neck. Kedem's mouth was right next to his ear, when he spoke back to the priestess, “A stranger runs up to you and you're not suspicious? Here in Nihilus of all places?”

“Look at his arm, Sir Kedem, he has the Gavish! He needs help!” Mother Galia pleaded with the old paladin.

“Yes! That's all I want, I swear! I'll be on my way...” Ardal said.

Kedem shook Ardal by his petrified arm. “He has the Gavish and he's let it grow up his forearm. Anyone faithful to our God would have had many chances to get that healed before it got this bad.”

“That doesn't mean he doesn't deserve our help!” Mother Galia said. Her voice was so sweet, something Ardal might have taken a moment to admire if he didn't already have a sword pressed to his neck.

“Mark my words, priestess! He's a demon-worshiper!”

“Let him go, Sir Kedem.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes! Let him go!”

Kedem whispered in Ardal's ear, “I'm watching you,” before pulling his sword away from Ardal's neck and shoving him away. The old man was surprisingly strong for his age, and Ardal stumbled for a moment, struggling not to fall.

“Let me see it,” Mother Galia said, reaching for Ardal's arm.

Ardal extended his petrified arm to Mother Galia, and she rolled up his sleeve, running her fingers along the crystals there. He realized, then, just how bad the Gavish had truly gotten, as he wasn't able to feel her hand touching his arm until she got to the end of the crystals and touched the skin of his bicep. Her fingertips on his skin tickled a little and he shivered.

“This is really bad...I can't deal with it all with just one prayer,” Galia said. “Would you be opposed to staying in the temple a few days, in the guest room? I'll say prayers over your arm every day until you're healed.”

This could not have been more perfect. Not only was she going to heal him, but she was going to bring him into Bogeid. He'd have plenty of opportunities to find ways to let his comrades in and liberate the city, especially if he was there for a few days. “I'd love that,” Ardal said. For a moment he wanted to ask her if she was sure she wanted to let a non-believer into the temple, but he thought better of it.

“You're going to trust this total stranger?” Sir Kedem asked.

“He needs my help. Whether he believes in our God or not our God loves him too, I can't refuse him.”

“What if he turns out to be a demon-conjurer?”

“Then it will be up to you to defend our people, Sir Kedem, as it always is.”

“What if he turns on you?”

“Then I guess I'll die. I'm not terribly worried about it. If he sends me to Heaven while I'm still young then let it be.”

“Must be nice to be so utterly unafraid of death,” Ardal thought. “Though perhaps misguided.” With Sir Kedem at his back Ardal followed Galia to the city gates. The guards did not even bother to ask who Ardal was, simply bowed their heads and opened the gate when Galia approached. As they passed through the gate Ardal looked around to make a quick assessment of the security. On the battlements of the city walls above were four archers, directly over the gate. Two men with spears stood by the mechanism that raised or lowered the portcullis, two men stood just outside the city walls, and the barracks was not far away.

The Agalmite temple stood on the other end of the city, on a slight hill. At the top of the steeple Ardal could see what had clearly been the symbol of his faith, a four-pointed star, shaped like an X, but many many more points had been added to it, changing it into the symbol of the Agalmite faith. Where previously there had been skylights, intended for the astronomers to observe the stars while divining the future, there was now a closed roof.

On the way to the temple, Ardal could see that the people of the city were avoiding eye-contact with the city guard. Children scurried past the guards, clearly afraid of them, as if the guards could just attack anyone they wanted on a whim without fear of retribution. The city guards, in turn, glared at every citizen they passed. Ardal made eye contact with one of the guards by accident, but once the contact was made Ardal refused to look away as the other citizens did, instead choosing to keep the gaze. If the look the guard gave him was any indication he could swear that he'd have attacked Ardal, or at the very least taken him in for questioning then and there, were he not with Galia.

Ardal's staring contest with the city guard caused him to be caught by surprise when a man in a black cassock, an inquisitor, approached, two witch-hunters in tow. “Mother Galia,” the inquisitor said, his voice clearly feigning respect. “You've brought a new guest to our city I see.”

“I did indeed,” said Galia, “And he's under my protection while he's here.”

“Oh, he's one of the faithful, then?” the inquisitor asked.

“Whether he is or not is none of your concern,” Galia replied, her voice suddenly sounding much harsher than it had before, and she stood between Ardal and the inquisitor. Sir Kedem placed a hand on Ardal's shoulder and glared at the inquisitor as well.

“You heard her,” Sir Kedem said. “He has been taken under our wings, the Inquisition has no claim to him.”

The inquisitor nodded to Sir Kedem, “Fair enough, fair enough. Then you will be held responsible for any wrongdoings he may commit while in our city.”

“May the blame be on my head,” said Galia.

That seemed to be enough to end the argument, and the inquisitor walked away, gesturing for his witch-hunters to follow.

“You don't suppose they'll go to Sir Gilad, do you?” Sir Kedem said.

“What, to try to get him to turn my guest over to them? They can try, but Sir Gilad knows better than to oppose the clergy. If he arrested someone under my protection I'd write to the Arch-Bishop, and she'd see him removed from power so fast...”

“I hope you're right,” said Sir Kedem. “No one deserves what the Inquisition does to those they deem heretics.” Just minutes ago Sir Kedem was all but ready to kill Ardal and now he was acting all protective of him? Ardal felt he would never understand these foreigners.

Finally they arrived at the temple, and once inside Ardal was surprised to see many young children running around, chasing each other, dashing between the pews and seats. He cringed when he realized that for a few days he'd have to share living space with children as young as four.

“Why are there so many children in here?” Ardal asked.

“They have no parents,” Galia said, sorrow hanging on her words. “Each of them were the children of people accused of treachery and executed.”

“So you take care of all of the children whose parents Sir Gilad has killed?”

“Not all,” Galia said, “Just as many as I can. I worked out a deal with him. Every other orphan lives with me in the temple and is raised to be a member of the clergy, while the other half go to Sir Gilad, either to become laborers or to become pages.”

There was a lovely thought. Those children who lost their parents either were brain-washed into joining the clergy that was oppressing them and stamping out their families' religious beliefs or they were trained to kill their own people by the very people who'd orphaned them in the first place.

“They don't appear to be studying,” said Kedem.

“No, they appear to be behaving like children,” Galia said. “And that's fine for now, let them be children for the time being, they'll be grown up all too soon.”

Everything about Galia reminded Ardal of what he used to say to his students at Leti Academy, sixteen years ago, “The idolaters are not evil, they're just misled. Their false God has them fooled, believing this world is a gift and not a curse, a palace and not a prison.” For so long he'd seen the cruelty and intolerance of the Arxian Agalmites in Nihilus that he'd forgotten that he'd ever said that. Over the years he believed it less and less every day, but now, in this beautiful, kind-hearted young priestess, he was reminded of the truth in those words.

Then, up at the altar, he saw a graven image of the true enemy. Hanging from the wall was an enormous statue, made of marble, shaped like a sea-urchin, the likeness of the Agalmite God. Standing on either side of this idol were statues of angels, made of glass. Their likeness was so similar to the real angel he'd encountered just a few days ago that Ardal jumped at first when he saw them, getting ready to run. One of the older children, roughly eleven years old, was kneeling before the idol, her hands clasped together, eyes closed, and lips muttering near-silent prayers. In that moment, Ardal would have liked nothing more than to summon Kamwi and tear down the statues, crushing them to bits, but he knew he needed to cooperate for the time being. He was thankful to Galia, even if he silently cursed her God.

While Sir Kedem waited by the front doors of the temple, Galia led Ardal to a small room off to the side, with an old, worn-out cot. “I'm sorry that the guest room is in such disrepair,” Galia said, “We've been spending most of our budget to keep the children fed.”

“A noble cause,” Ardal said. “I appreciate what you're doing for me, Mother Galia, really.”

Galia smiled and nodded to him. “God commanded us to love and care for everyone, even our enemies. The Law specifically says to have respect for life. A lot of priests in this land seem to be forgetting that. What is your name?”

For a moment he tried to think of a lie, a name to tell her other than his own, in case she had heard of him. He'd been a professor at Leti Academy for years before it fell, and word might yet have gotten around about his recent activity with the Nihilite rebels. However, he was unable to think of a good alias, so he just said, “Ardal. My name is Ardal.”

“Ardal. Let me see your arm again, Ardal.”

Ardal held out his arm to Galia and Galia took it in her hands, pressing her thumbs into his wrists and holding the back of his crystallized hand to her forehead. “Oh merciful and beneficent One, you who created all of Erets and resides deep beneath the earth, please pour forth your love and mercy upon Ardal and heal him of this affliction.” As she spoke, some of the crystals on Ardal's arm began to shrink away, and some feeling returned to his arm. He could feel the pressure of her thumbs on his wrist, and of her forehead on the back of his hand, but though he could feel the pressure he could not actually feel her skin. As she had said, the prayer had not healed him completely, but it had made significant progress. At this rate he'd be fully healed within a few days.

This was the first time that it really sank in for him; he wasn't going to die so soon after all. If he stayed with Galia, waited out the healing process, and kept a low profile while he was there he'd be healthy again. He felt a weight lift in his heart, a sense of relief so strong, he'd never felt anything like it, and he couldn't help but smile as tears filled his eyes and blurred his sight.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice wavering. Who was he thanking? Well, he meant it as a thank you to Galia, but as soon as the words left his lips he remembered that it was Elykos who had led him to this moment, and so he thanked him as well.

“You're welcome, my friend,” Galia said. “If you want breakfast tomorrow morning be in the sanctuary just a few minutes after the bell rings, understand? Now, I have some duties to attend to. Get some rest.”

Galia left Ardal in the room by himself, closing the door behind her, and making her way back to the sanctuary.

Sir Kedem was waiting for Galia in the sanctuary, his arms folded, “Is he who I think he is?”

Galia nodded and gave a guilty smile.

Sir Kedem rolled his eyes, “So you've let a former professor of Leti Academy into the temple, a man who not only conjures demons but has taught others to do the same.”

“That's not all he taught,” said Galia. “He was the one who taught me compassion for those of other faiths. He'd always taught that Agalmites were just misled, not evil. He may have been mistaken about a few things, but his heart was always in the right place.”

“Yes yes, he's a good man, I'm sure, but he's still the enemy,” Sir Kedem said.

“The scriptures teach us to love our enemies.”

“That doesn't mean we have to trust them, Galia. The scriptures also say to kill our enemies if that will protect those we love. Then you also have to consider the way this whole situation looks.”

“How it looks?”

“Sixteen years ago you were a student at Leti Academy. You were only a child at the time, but when I found you you'd clearly been indoctrinated into their beliefs. The greatest miracle of your life seems to be that not only did you come into the light, in spite of their teachings, but you actually became a priestess.” Sir Kedem's eyes got misty as he remembered watching her grow all these years, seeing her progress from puppet of a demon-worshiping faith to devout follower of God. “Honestly, you're an inspiration! And you've converted more Nihilites to the Agalmite faith than any other missionary in these parts, but there are those who are looking to discredit you. I've lost count of the number of times you stopped the Inquisition form executing heretics because you said they could be converted, reformed, and the more the bishops talk about the possibility of you joining their ranks the more the other priests and priestesses get jealous. You have more enemies than you realize, Galia. Taking in a former professor of Leti...you're risking it all for him. They'll accuse you of having too much sympathy for warlocks, maybe even accuse you of secretly being a witch yourself.”

“Let them accuse,” Galia said. “It's not their approval I seek, it's God's.”

“Galia...”

“Besides, if I, who was raised to worship demons, can become a priestess don't you think Professor Ardal can convert? And if I convert him what do you think my enemies will say then?”

“If you can convert him...sincerely convert him they'll probably make you a bishop, I know, but...”

“And if they make me a bishop imagine all the good I could do with that kind of power? There's nowhere near enough compassion in the church for the Nihilite people. I could change that! Think of all the souls who'd turn to God if only his followers showed them more compassion.”

Sir Kedem sighed, realizing that he could not change her mind, but further realizing that he might not need to. Maybe she was right. Maybe she was doing exactly what she needed to be doing. He feared for her, but perhaps one far stronger than himself was guiding her steps. “In any case be careful. Watch your step. I care about you, Galia. You're my whole world.”