Profane rites, p.2
Profane Rites, page 2
“Be careful with what you say, Yonas. It is not my role to pass judgement on these men. Their violence is an abomination; no good ever comes from raising one’s fist in anger, but through the grace of Devi, perhaps I can make a difference.”
“And through the grace of Devi, they’re ready to fight again.”
“The whole point to my Trial is to demonstrate that there is another way. To show the people through humility and devotion and prayer they too can hear the Song of Devi.” And to prove my own worth, she thought. There were countless tales whispered around Rampura Abbey of unworthy acolytes making a fatal misstep during the ancient Trial. Honorata was determined to not add her own name to that folklore.
“Yes, Sister, I have listened to the preachers many times myself. I know what Devi says about the peaceful man, but don’t forget why you need me along on this journey. If you were so convinced about the grace of Devi, you wouldn’t need a bodyguard.”
Honorata did her best to not let her annoyance show. She took two deep breaths before replying. “Peace demands a most heroic labor and the most painful sacrifice. Peace demands greater heroism than war. Peace demands greater devotion to the truth and a purity of conscience. The path to peace is the most difficult path that a man can walk.”
“Parroting the words of the Bhagava won’t do much to enlighten me, Sister. I’ve lost count of the sermons I’ve sat through since joining Edessa.” They walked for a while in silence before Yonas continued, his tone softer. “I don’t claim to be the wisest man, I don’t know if what I do is always right, but I’ve got a job to do and sometimes it means spilling blood. I don’t take any pleasure in it; in fact, I’ve seen far too much blood in my life. I’d be happy to never see it again. Even though you’re preaching the way of the pacifist, I’ll be by your side, tulwar in hand.”
“You’re a good man, Yonas. I am sorry if the way I speak has offended you.” She touched him on the arm as she spoke. “I truly do appreciate your company on this journey. I know that you’re loyal. Devoted to your oath to the Order. You will have to forgive me if my views seem naïve—I have spent most of my life cloistered in Rampura. Even raising one’s voice in anger in that place would bring about a swift punishment. I will meditate upon this. Perhaps the path of humility means that I need to consider how hard it is for others to hear that wisdom.”
“Don’t take what I say to heart, Sister. We come from different places, but you’re doing good work. I try and take care of the dirty stuff so that you can focus on what’s pure.”
They arrived at the makeshift cemetery. Honorata offered Yonas a smile, hoping that it was warm enough to demonstrate her gratitude before changing the subject. “Yonas, please, go and find some food. It has been too long since you enjoyed some comfort. I am safe here.”
“As you wish, Sister.” He bowed slightly before turning to leave.
Honorata moved to face the graves. Four mounds of freshly dug dirt marked the places where the soldiers had been laid to rest. No one had left any markings, nor were there any signs of a proper burial devotion having been performed.
Honorata knelt by the first grave. She produced from her satchel three sticks of incense and placed their ends in the dirt. Next was the small, metal tinderbox that she carried. She worked the steel and flint until she had enough heat to produce a flame on a piece of dry hemp. One by one, she transferred that flame to the incense and soon the familiar scent filled her nostrils and the swirl of smoke encircled her.
Still kneeling, she took up the beads from around her neck, the smooth wood familiar to her fingers after so many years. Fingering the first bead, she began the first prayer of the many that she would recite that day, “Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine . . .”
* * *
It was night when she found Yonas speaking to a handful of soldiers over a bowl of food, gathered around the light of a cooking fire. The jungle fowl that they saw roasting earlier that day had been added to a paste of pungent spices and mixed with boiled rice. Honorata tried not to show how tantalising the smell of that food was to her, but she suspected that she failed to keep up the proper decorum expected from her. It had been most of the day since she had eaten, and she was ravenous.
She sat with Yonas and one of the other men passed her a bowl to share. The soldiers chatted amongst themselves, and, for a while, she enjoyed the food in silence, the meal a welcome change from the monotony of their rations endured on the road.
It was Yonas who broke that peaceful moment. “That man Morcant has gone downhill.”
“What do you mean?” she said. It had only been a few hours. Honorata wondered what could have changed in that short time.
“His fever. It was only an hour or so after you blessed him that it really took hold. Drenched in sweat and thrashing about. Murmuring at first, and then shouting like a lunatic before long. We didn’t want to disturb you while you were praying. He’s asleep now anyway, so there’s nothing to be done.”
Honorata felt a sense of dread and the silence returned for a while as she thought about what this meant.
“I will soothe you and I will heal you. I will bring you roses, for, I too have been covered with thorns.” The words felt empty to Honorata in that moment.
“Hmm, yes. Mysterious ways and all that,” replied Yonas. “I don’t get to listen in on the conversation between you and Devi, but there’s obviously something powerful to what you do. You can feel it in the air when you perform the ritual. That light is proof that there’s something happening. I guess sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t.” Yonas shrugged.
He had finished his food by this time, and he stood to leave. “Get some sleep, Sister, you’ve had a long day.” Yonas walked into the night, leaving Honorata with her thoughts by the fire.
* * *
“Thank you for all you’ve done, Sister.” Brewer poured black tea into three fine, porcelain cups as he spoke. “You’ve done a lot to lift spirits around here. Sitting around in the jungle for months on end, fighting off mosquitos and fearing something worse from tigers and rebels is hard on morale. Just seeing a friendly face in your robes reminds us all that Rampura hasn’t forgotten us.” He sat down and took a gentle sip from his cup.
Yonas picked up his tea and sipped politely before admiring the crockery. “Surprised to see something as delicate as this in the middle of the jungle.”
Brewer laughed. “You’re not wrong. These things have been more of a pain than you could imagine keeping safe on the way out here. Just one of those small comforts that I never leave home without. They came west from Bagan, and who knows how old they are. They made their way to Rampura, and I’ve held onto them ever since. Drinking tea out of a proper teacup makes all of the difference.” He took an exaggerated sip as if to illustrate his point.
“Captain, we thank you for your hospitality,” said Honorata. “Might I enquire about the health of your man Morcant?”
“Morcant is fine. He was carrying on about his fever, acting as if the world was ending, but there’s nothing to worry about. He’s got a gory wound and he’ll be wearing an eye patch for the rest of his days, but our surgeon cleaned it out good and proper and reckons he’s strong enough to fight through. Not your fault, Sister. The work you did could only have helped. Maybe he’d be dead already without Devi’s aid. The only ones to blame are the rebels and we’ll get them back sooner or later.”
No matter what Brewer said, Honorata did feel responsible. She had performed countless blessings before, and while no healer that she knew of has ever had the power to breathe life into the wounded immediately, she had never heard of someone deteriorating quite like Morcant had.
“I sincerely hope that he recovers, Captain. War is a terrible thing and if my presence here can alleviate some suffering, even in the slightest, then I would consider this journey to be a success.” She took a sip of tea. “But there was another purpose to our visit.”
“And what might that be, Sister?”
“The Trial of Saint Mirai is the main reason that I’m here, but the Bishop of Rampura has asked me to ascertain the whereabouts of a missing priestess. Her name is Mother Severa. I am told that she was sent to this region some twenty years ago. Her letters gradually became fewer over the years until all contact was lost. And then the rebellion began, and I think all hope was lost of hearing from her.”
“It’s not a name I’m familiar with, Sister. I must say though, we haven’t had much of a chance to get a feel for the locals. We marched into this jungle and pretty quick we had the rebel soldiers harrying us. We’ve been into Aluia a few times, but the headman there doesn’t want to be seen dealing with us. So, we can’t offer you much information to help, unfortunately.”
Brewer paused to take a sip of his tea, before stopping with his cup halfway to his mouth. “Ah wait, there might be something else; there’s a shaman in Aluia! Her name is Rani. I’ve only spoken to her briefly but she’s a local who took up the robes. Nothing to do with Rampura as far as I know. But surely, she’d know the whereabouts of this missing woman? If Mother Severa and Rani were both preaching in this area, they must have known of each other.”
“Thank you, Captain, that is a very sensible idea. We will go to Aluia.”
“Just one more thing, Sister, a word of warning. The rebel warlord in this area is a man named Partho Nasrin. I don’t think he grew up around here, but he found himself leading the local rebel forces at about the time when the real fighting moved north. I reckon they must have ordered him to stay so that we couldn’t get a foothold back around Aluia. He’s camped up in the hills, maybe about five miles north of the village. Be careful of the man. I doubt he’d risk attacking you directly, but he’s not a man to be trusted. He’s a savage and a butcher.”
“I will remember that, Captain. I must be honest with you though; my mission does not allow me to pick sides in this conflict. We both serve the Queen, but in different ways. Her soldiers in this world fight the rebellion, but I am a soldier in a much more important battle. It is my duty to offer my services to anyone who needs it, and if that turns out to be this man Partho, then he will receive Devi’s blessing at my hand.”
“I wouldn’t ask anything else, Sister. I’ve heard enough about how the Trial works. I just want you to stay safe.”
“I’ll take care of that, Captain, don’t worry,” said Yonas. “Let’s let the Sister do her good works and I’ll keep an eye out for Partho.”
Chapter Two
The jungle had been forced back to clear the way for the disorder of Aluia. Fenced by wooden walls, the village nestled against a lazy river. The wall captured a portion of the river, the village extending its four piers into the water, those limbs anchoring a handful of fishing boats. Watch towers loomed over the walls at regular intervals. Clusters of thatched huts populated the area, interwoven with dirt paths. A market square stood out amongst the jumble of dwellings, the open area holding a mess of market stalls covered by colourful awnings. Plumes of smoke meandered through the air above the village, merging and spreading until they only eventually hinted at a grey haze.
The sun hung high overhead as Honorata and Yonas walked down a slight hill, flanked by the thinning jungle. As they emerged into the open, they took in the fields on either side. Thick clumps of sugarcane were being harvested by youths with machetes. Wheat and barley grew in the broad fields, which bordered the path. Groves of trees, laden with bananas, mangoes, and coconuts, peppered the landscape. The path carried carts, drawn by hand, piled high with recent harvest.
They walked through this scene, the traffic intensifying as they approached Aluia proper. The stink of civilisation reached Honorata’s nostrils. Smoke and filth—familiar scents to anyone who had lived in a city. The jungle may have been hot and humid, a miserable place at times, but Honorata had enjoyed the freedom from other people for as long as it lasted. Her memories of Rampura were not tainted by that stench, but perhaps she was just acclimatized by now, maybe even romanticising her home. Or perhaps the abbey was a sanctuary from more than just the uncultured.
There was no challenge as they approached the gate. Honorata’s robes and Yonas’s sword drew wide-eyed stares from curious children. Men and women in simple but colourful garb did their best to be seen to ignore them, although Honorata noted an exaggerated silence as she passed. As they moved through, an unmanned watch tower stood to their left, dilapidated barracks to their right. Ahead was the market square with the circular stone of a well now visible amongst the throng. Behind that, the spire of a church rose above the confusion. As the path became more crowded the interest in them dwindled, the villagers more intent on their own business. They continued, pushing through the throng at times until they were near enough to the centre of the village, outside the church, which stood alongside a proud manor. The rough stone of both buildings was the product of an inexperienced stonemason, but plainly far better than the haphazard construction of the surrounding huts.
A thin man in a dark suit barked directions to three dirty workers. He looked up and started when he saw Honorata, and before long had hurried over to her.
“Hello, Sister! My name is Falgun and it is my pleasure to humbly welcome you to Aluia. In Devi’s name, where do you hail from?”
The man’s flippant reference to her religion annoyed her, and she responded rigidly. “We have travelled from Rampura. We seek to speak to the headman.”
“Ah yes, of course. Mihir is the man you’re after. It is very lucky for us that you are here, Sister! There are so many terrible things that happen in a war and it’s always the innocents who bear the brunt.” He wiped sweat from his brow with a white cloth from his pocket.
“Please, Falgun, we have travelled a long way and it is most important that we speak to Mihir. I appreciate that there may be much that I can do for Aluia, but those things will have to wait.”
“I won’t delay you any longer, Sister, please follow me. I will take you to Mihir immediately!” His tone communicated an officiousness, which managed to irk Honorata despite the inoffensive nature of what he said.
Falgun turned and strode towards the nearby door to the manor. Yonas looked at Honorata and said, “That man couldn’t be more annoying if he tried”.
“Quiet, Yonas, I am sure that he can hear you.”
“I hope he can, Sister.”
If Falgun had heard Yonas’s slight, he showed no sign of it as he opened the door to the manor and ushered them inside. The richly furnished room contrasted sharply with the dirty street outside. Polished wood floors, rustic but well-made furniture, the sweet scent of fragrant woods and oils, it was an oasis of finery in the midst of the mundane.
Falgun led them through that room into a dining room with a long table lined by wooden chairs, and then up a flight of stairs. At the top of the stars, he rapped sharply on a door before pushing it open and gesturing to Honorata that she should enter.
An elderly man sat at a fine desk littered with papers, his writing pausing at their entry. He was portly in build, perhaps in his seventh decade, and dressed in a dark suit much like Falgun was. In what was becoming a familiar experience, he was quick to smile once he saw Honorata’s robes and holy symbol.
“Come in, come in. Falgun, please send for some tea for our esteemed guests. Sister, please, sit over here. You man, what’s your name?”
“Yonas.”
“Yonas, my good man, drag that chair from over there and please sit as well. We have much to discuss.”
“Pardon me, but you are Mihir?” The man nodded in response to Honorata’s question. “May Devi bless you, Mihir. My name is Sister Honorata from the Rampura Abbey. This is Yonas, he is my companion from the Order of Edessa. I have come to Aluia as part of a spiritual journey to complete the Trial of Saint Mirai.”
“Yes, Sister, and surely you bring news from Rampura? I have sent many messages but have heard nothing about the help that we so desperately need.”
Honorata looked puzzled, and Mihir took that confusion as an invitation to continue.
“We have endured much here. The rebellion and the Queen’s army have destroyed much of what we have worked so hard to build in this place. Both sides pillage and steal anything they can. They both say they fight for us, but all they do is leave our bellies empty and our children starving. My people grow desperate for food, and I pray that you bring hope that help will soon arrive.”
“I am sorry, Mihir. I bring no news, and the only aid I can provide is to sing with the Song of Devi and to tend to your sick and wounded. I know nothing about your messages. I know nothing about the Queen’s plan. I come at the behest of the Bishop, and she has told me nothing of this.”
Mihir’s smile vanished, replaced by furrowed brows. He rubbed at his face with both hands. He turned to stare out the window, the silence soon growing uncomfortable. After an extended moment he spoke. “I suppose it is not your fault, Sister, but things have been hard here. When I saw that you had arrived, I thought that you were the answer to our prayers. A sign that help was finally on its way. But that is unfair on you. We should be pleased that you are here, and I assure you that we are.” His smile had returned, although it looked forced.
“If there is anything within my power that can be done to help, I promise you that I am at your service,” Honorata said. Yonas shifted uncomfortably in his chair at this.
“Thank you for that, Sister. There is indeed much that you can do for us. I should be thanking Devi for the blessings we have, not lamenting the fact that we haven’t been delivered a miracle.”
“I have taken no offence, Mihir, do not worry. It is actually you that is granting me a favour. The Trial requires me to humbly serve those in need. I should not lose sight of the fact that I have something to gain by giving to you and your village. But, can I ask a question of you before we discuss those matters?”
