Profane rites, p.17
Profane Rites, page 17
Honorata walked with him. “Thank you for understanding, Yonas,” she said.
Yonas replied with a grunt as he began his task of searching through the wet undergrowth. It took them about an hour, but they had found enough wood so that Yonas was satisfied he could build a fire. He had scavenged some dry grass for kindling and they constructed their small fire on the opposite side of the clearing to the rebel soldiers. Those men seemed to have gone to sleep by the time that Yonas began working with his flint, the faint light of the moon providing barely enough illumination. It was not long before he had a flame burning, which gradually grew amongst the pyramid of firewood that he had built around it.
Honorata sat and watched as he worked, numb and sullen. Once he was satisfied that the fire would last, Yonas sat next to her. He offered her a small bundle, food that had been brought by Finlay and his men. Honorata took it in her hand but did not move to eat. She saw that Yonas’s bundle contained a mix of vegetables with clumps of brown rice, but she did not feel like eating. For some time, they stared into the flames together, letting the silence linger. It was Yonas who broke the solitude.
“You know, Sister, I’ve met plenty of priestesses. Perhaps not as many acolytes, but they’re not so different to the fully fledged ones at the end of the day,” he said, speaking quietly, still staring into the fire. “You all look the same; same black robes and shorn heads, and you’re all so hard to get a smile out of.” Honorata found herself resisting a smile at that jibe despite the way that she felt.
“But I’ve come to realise that there’s a lot of difference from woman to woman,” he said, chewing in between sentences. “Some talk about Devi constantly, barely taking a breath. Others go about their business with barely a word whatsoever. You wouldn’t even know that they’re there half the time. I’ve seen some priestesses who you know they’d lay their life down for their god. And others, you get the feeling that they’re just saying these things because it’s expected of them.”
Honorata listened silently, not quite sure what Yonas’s point was but unwilling to interrupt the man. He rarely spoke so freely, and rarely so earnestly.
“The thing is, I reckon I’ve got a good sense of what makes a good woman. And you’re one that I trust, Sister. You might look around us today and wonder about how in Devi’s name did you end up in this mess. I don’t have the answer to the tough questions like that. I’ve got no blasted idea how we came to end up in this position. But I’ve been by your side every step of the way, and I’ve seen the choices you’ve made to lead us here. And I still reckon you’re still a good woman.” Honorata found herself unable to meet the swordsman’s gaze at the unexpected compliment, her own doubts mixing with
Yonas let that linger as he took a mouthful of his own food, before continuing. “It’s not your fault that these bastards did what they did today. You’re right that it’s unforgiveable. I don’t claim to know what goes on inside your head and your heart in situations like this. You’ve got your way and I’ve got mine, but I’ll never forget about what happened today.” He glowered at the rebel soldiers, his voice betraying the emotion swirling underneath. “And it’s not your fault that your prayers can’t change things like this. It is what it is. I’ve got faith in you, Sister, and that isn’t changing anytime soon.”
He returned to his food, seemingly not expecting an answer, and Honorata was content to let the silence resume. Yonas’s loyalty and respect tore her in two different directions—she still felt like she was not worthy of others thinking of her in that way, but then again, Yonas was wise in his own way. Perhaps there was something in what he said, she thought, but perhaps there was something else that he had stumbled upon without quite realising.
It was true that her prayers could not change situations like this, she thought. All too often she found herself blessing the sick and injured, or worse, the already dead. How often had her prayers actually made a difference? Plenty of those in need had worsened after she did her work. And of course, there was no helping the dead, at least not in this world. But since meeting Severa, she was not quite sure as to what the Song could achieve. What was Severa capable of? Plainly the old woman knew far more about the boundaries of the Song’s power and what it could achieve than she did, perhaps even more than the priestesses in Rampura, although she was not sure about that. If Severa was capable of much more, did that mean that she was capable of the same? And if that is true, then perhaps it was wrong to assume that she could not influence situations such as the horrors of the past day. Perhaps, in fact, there was more that she could have done, Honorata thought.
She barely slept that night, turning these ideas over in her head, meditating upon her actions, the nature of her power and her relationship with her god.
Chapter Seventeen
In the morning, the rebel soldiers quietly collected their belongings and left without a further word to Honorata or Yonas. The elephant, subdued now, trailed along behind them, seemingly uncaring that the body of its trainer lay in a shallow grave nearby, content to be led along the path that wound its way into the belly of the jungle.
Their fire had died overnight, charcoal and ash all that remained. They did not bother to rebuild it in the morning, instead eating their morning meal cold. It was hard bread, wrapped in a banana leaf with some equally hard, salted meat. An unenjoyable and bitter meal. The right meal to celebrate the occasion, Honorata thought. She gathered up her possessions quickly and they began walking. Yonas wanted to reach Brewer’s stockade that day, and there should have been plenty of time to make it given how long their journey here had taken them.
They entered the jungle, taking a different path than that chosen by the rebels, and the wild swallowed them again, leaving behind the scene of the previous day’s slaughter. There was no rain this day although the humidity hung heavily in the air. Honorata’s dress was still smeared with mud and damp from the hours spent digging graves in the wet dirt the previous day. It hung uncomfortably and she felt the fabric chafing at her skin as she walked. It would be a long and difficult day’s travel, but she almost relished the idea of the pain. Something to distract her from the memories of the battle of Red Goat Hill. Something to help her forget that she had blood on her hands, that her good intentions had cost good men their lives.
The further they walked, the heavier the air hung around her. She sweated profusely, the moist surrounds encouraging the mosquitoes to hound her. She was thankful that her long dress covered most of her legs and arms, although her hands and bare feet were exposed, not to mention her neck and face. The buzz of the bloodthirsty insects became a constant companion as they followed the winding path through the thick undergrowth. The occasional call of jungle birds punctuated the jungle soundscape.
It was about an hour before midday when they saw the tiger.
They rounded a tight corner, the path finding its way around the trunk of an ancient tree, its upper half reaching through the thick canopy into the sky. As they rounded the girth of the tree, they stopped in their tracks in unison, the great cat before them. It moved slowly, its powerful muscles rippling under its striped coat, its tail whipping lazily behind it. The tiger sniffed at something amongst the undergrowth, curious about something that had moved to hide as the animal passed. The beast looked well-fed and healthy, a prime example of what one would imagine a tiger to be but made terrifying by its closeness.
It did not see them at first. Drawn to whatever it was that it had followed off the edge of the path, it lowered its head, sniffing loudly at that spot, its tail signaling a warning behind it. Honorata did not dare to breathe, although she felt her heart pounding, adrenaline running through her instantly as the shock from stumbling upon this beast gripped her. She watched Yonas from the corner of her eye, too petrified by fear to move. She saw that he was frozen as well, his hand near the hilt of his sword, but the weapon remained in its sheath.
The tiger raised its head as it turned to face them. Honorata saw its nostrils flare and its ears flatten, their scent reaching its nose. The distraction amongst the undergrowth was forgotten as the huge cat tensed its body, its powerful muscles coiled like springs, ready to move in an instant. Honorata felt like her heart was trying to escape through her throat as the tiger watched her, its tail whipping back and forth aggressively now, as its fierce eyes pierced her with their gaze.
Yonas slowly began to draw his sword, the soft sound of steel against soft leather telling Honorata all that she needed to know despite her being too fearful to turn her head to see for herself. The tiger lowered itself further, seemingly ready to pounce.
Through the terror and shock of the moment, Honorata felt a familiar scratching at the back of her mind. The hint of a presence, a soothing sensation. Foreign, yet familiar; the touch of the aura of another entering her brain and tempering her emotions. The tiger sensed it too apparently because its muscles seemed to relax in that moment, the tension evaporating from its body. The beast almost seemed confused, its feline features expressing uncertainty, and it turned its head from side to side.
Sensing the fact that their immediate death had been delayed, for a short time at least, Yonas took a step forward, his sword drawn now, and he entered a fighting stance, occupying the space between Honorata and the animal. But the tiger had forgotten that they were there in that moment. It sniffed the air, seemingly bewildered as to the feeling that had enveloped it. Honorata felt it too. A blanket of calm had fallen over them. It had silenced the terror that had threatened to consume her just moments earlier. She still felt it deep within her, but it was muted now; a fire, which had been dampened by water, its flames expunged, although there were the hot coals of emotions still buried beneath the surface.
“Yonas, stand down. I do not think this beast will harm us now,” said Honorata.
“What do you mean, Sister? The cursed thing is ready to attack,” Yonas replied.
“Can you not feel it? Something has happened. Someone is using the Song. I cannot explain it, but it has calmed the tiger.”
Honorata watched as Yonas furrowed his brow, evidently searching his senses for the feeling that Honorata described. Searching and failing to find anything, Honorata thought, as she watched confusion rule his features.
The tiger sniffed the air once more and, with a dismissive flick of its tail, turned and stalked into the jungle, leaving Honorata and Yonas stunned. That sense of the Song at work lingered in Honorata’s mind for a moment more before dissipating. Shortly after the predator’s disappearance, wrapped in the tattered robes of a priestess, emerged a familiar figure. Mother Severa.
Severa walked along the path towards them, an enigmatic smile on her face. “Hello, Sister Honorata. And it is a pleasure to see you again, Yonas.”
Yonas nodded awkwardly, plainly unsure of what to say and how to handle the appearance of an elderly priestess in the jungle so distant from Rampura. Severa did not wait long to give either of them a chance to respond, “Come with me. I have lunch waiting for you.”
The old woman turned and limped along the path, her bare feet squelching in the mud as she went, supported by her gnarled walking stick. Honorata turned to Yonas. He looked back and shrugged. What else could they do but follow her, thought Honorata. There did not seem to be any threat. In fact, Severa had obviously saved them from the tiger, although Honorata had never conceived of the Song being used in such a way. She had never heard anything, even gossip, about the Song being able to influence the minds of others, even if only the simple mind of an animal.
Severa turned to them and beckoned impatiently, which was enough to pull Honorata and Yonas from their hesitation, and they hurried along the path after the woman. Severa made no effort to speak to them on the walk, only plodding along the trail as fast as she was able, so Honorata and Yonas fell in behind her. It was not long before they came upon a small clearing alongside the path, a circle of space with a campfire burning between two fallen tree trunks. The smell of hot food tantalised Honorata’s nostrils as she hungrily observed the low iron pan resting in the embers of the fire, filled with a thick, brown liquid.
“Come, sit. Let me share my meal with you,” said the old priestess. Honorata and Yonas obeyed without hesitation on this occasion, both sitting on one of the logs beside the fire. The food smelled delicious, and despite the heat and humidity of the day, she was more than eager to taste the curry. The cold and uninspiring breakfast she had endured, along with being uninterested in her previous night’s meal, had left her ravenous it seemed.
Severa produced three wooden bowls and a ladle and went about serving each of them in turn. She handed Yonas a bowl brimming with the liquid first along with a carved wooden spoon. The man immediately began to eat. Honorata was next. The proximity of the food tempted her to follow Yonas’s lead, but she restrained herself, determined to resist the urge to gorge herself so that she could display some semblance of manners. Severa served herself and sat opposite them. She offered Honorata a gap-toothed smile, her clouded eyes unsettling, and they both began to eat.
For a moment longer, nothing was said. Honorata simply enjoyed the meal. A rich, thick curry of chicken and vegetables, spiced in a way that she was unfamiliar with. It was subtly different to anything she had tasted before, but she enjoyed it immensely. How had the woman produced such a meal out here in the jungle? And how in Devi’s name had she managed to find them here and then miraculously have a meal ready for them? The thoughts troubled Honorata but not enough to distract her from the food.
“I have been watching you, Sister.” Honorata was surprised to find Severa staring at her, the old woman’s bowl placed to one side and forgotten. “You are devout. You strive to walk the path of Devi. You are a fine acolyte.”
Honorata felt her cheeks colour at the unexpected praise.
“Thank you, Mother,” Honorata replied once she had regained some composure. “This has not been an easy journey, but I have done my best. I hope that I have made a positive difference to the people of this region, although I fear that, at times, I have failed.”
“We all face challenges along the path of Devi. That is what it is all about at the end of the day; the best of us never lose perspective on that. They are able to hold to their principles, even when things seem bleak beyond any hope whatsoever,” Severa said, while cocking her head curiously at Honorata, observing her as she spoke.
Honorata nodded but said nothing. Intellectually, she knew that the priestess was right, but the wounds of the previous day were too raw to simply reason out of existence.
“Yonas, I want you to leave us,” said Severa. “Not for long, but there are some things that we need to discuss, which should not be shared with anyone who is not a priestess.”
Yonas, having finished his meal, stood up and stretched his arms above his head. “Of course, Mother. I’ll take a walk along the path ahead and scout the way for a while. I’ll be back before long.” He looked to Honorata for reassurance as he went, and she gave him a small nod of approval.
Once he was out of earshot, Severa continued. “Speak the truth, Sister. What has happened to you to cause you to fear that you have failed?”
Honorata was jolted by the direct nature of the question. She had not had the chance to consider whether Severa was a person whom she could truly trust with such personal matters. Her old instincts of blind obedience to older priestesses took over and her mouth began to work before her mind had a chance to catch up.
“To be honest, I do not feel like I have achieved much since arriving here. I have blessed many who were in need, but I do not know if that has made any difference. There was a girl in Rampura, deathly ill, and my prayers did nothing to keep her from the grave. There was a wounded soldier in the nearby fort, his eye lost and wracked with infection, his condition worsened after my touch.” Honorata paused, shaking her head as she remembered the past few weeks. “Now that I think about it, I do not know whether I have truly helped anyone. I have seen precious little improvement in those that I have healed. I know we are far from Rampura, but I can still feel the flow of the Song when I call upon it. The blessings should have worked!”
“And what of yesterday’s events?” asked Severa.
“That was the worst of all. I thought I was doing the right thing, leading eleven men to investigate a threat that had been terrorising the villagers of Aluia. All I managed to do was to lead them into a trap set by the rebels. They slaughtered them. They left Yonas and I unharmed. Apparently, despite being willing to shed the blood of the Queen’s army, they pretended to respect the Church too much to cause me harm,” said Honorata, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice.
“Such is the way of Devi’s path, child.” Severa looked at Honorata, almost with pity. “We serve our faith in ways that you would never have comprehended from the safety of the abbey in Rampura. Would you believe that I was the best singer of my cohort? They all were jealous of my voice back then,” Severa said, somewhat wistfully. Her voice hardened almost instantly though as she continued. “But those are days long gone. Many years ago. Such a long time. And yet I endure. And the reason that I endure, Sister, is that I see the world for what it is. I do not blind myself to the potential that hides within all of us. Some have more potential than others, but it is there all the same.”
Honorata knew where the conversation was headed. That bewildering experience, deep in the jungle, at the foot of that ancient and bizarre temple to a heathen religion. That day had twisted how she saw the world, revealed so much but ultimately leaving her more confused. It felt like a dream as she thought back on it; she had retained glimpses and hints of what she had seen, more the sensation of the memories rather than anything tangible. But she knew that Severa had command of incredible powers. Powers so far beyond anything she had seen before, so foreign, so strange, yet so familiar as well. Truly she was a woman whose command of the Song dwarfed all others, at least those that she had personally seen.
