Profane rites, p.3
Profane Rites, page 3
“Yes, of course, Sister. Anything,” he said.
“Do you know of a priestess from Rampura named Mother Severa? The Bishop has instructed me that she came to these parts and we have sadly lost contact with her.”
Mihir rubbed his chin. “It was years ago now, but I think I know the one you mean. A woman of few words, she did not stay long in Aluia. Our local shaman, Rani, spent time with her. You should speak to her and I pray that she may be able to help.”
“Thank you, Mihir, I am sure that your advice will prove fruitful. Now, please tell me about how Aluia fares.”
Falgun chose that moment to return. With a smile, he arranged a steaming pot of tea and three cups on the table. Honorata noticed that these cups were made from clay; quality but nothing compared to Brewer’s crockery. As Falgun worked, Mihir stood and walked to the window, which looked out over the square.
“These are unusual times. We are squeezed between two armies, both of which see us as nothing more than a source of food and recruits. But that’s a problem that I can understand. That’s a problem that I can deal with. The real problems we have are far more troubling.”
Falgun stood off to the side, intent on listening to the conversation. Honorata picked up her cup and took a tentative sip. Mihir turned from the window, his expression grave. “We have captured a heretic. A man named Shankar.”
Honorata fumbled and clattered her teacup at that. “Where is he? There can be no safety with a heretic nearby.”
“Do not fear, we have him drugged and held in a basement. He is harmless there, trust me. The man was terrorising the countryside for years; he was almost a legend in these parts. An evil man, a completely vile character. I am sure that much of the hardships we’ve suffered over the years can be explained by his misdeeds. Butchered cattle, sacrificed in some dark ritual. Guards being savaged in the night with no memory of what happened to them. Countless quantities of food and tools, and who knows what else, stolen. We finally got him though. A group of us ambushed him in the jungle about five miles to the west. Knocked him out before he could curse them and dragged him back here. That was just a few days back.”
“Mihir, I implore you to send to Rampura immediately with this news. A heretic is an abomination that threatens the safety of us all. Time is of the essence.” Honorata spoke with intensity, unable to moderate the urgency in her voice.
“It won’t be a problem for much longer. We’re going to chop his head off. Simple as that. There could be no doubt that he’s a guilty man, and we’ll see the thing ended.”
Honorata was horrified. “That is not the way, Mihir. The Church has ways of dealing with men who twist the Song of Devi into heresy. You cannot take this into your own hands, I beg you.”
“I’m afraid that it’s too late for that, Sister. I truly am sorry, but the plans are underway, and the deed will be done in two days from now. If I tell the people that we now can’t put to an end the man who has been haunting them for years, they’ll riot. They’ll probably end up doing it themselves. He’ll end up dead either way, but a proper execution is the right way to do it. No one else gets hurt. But there’s more to our problems than just a heretic.”
“Just a heretic? I do not know what a more pressing issue could possibly be than a man like that in your midst.”
Mihir took a sip of his tea before continuing. “There’s a monster on the loose. It’s not Shankar because the beast has struck while we’ve had the man under lock and key. But the people have seen it. I could chalk it all to the heretic when it was just one or two stories, but it’s gotten out of hand. More than a few have seen the thing. Twisted and evil, vicious and bloodthirsty. The thing has been seen skulking through the village at night, scavenging and scaring the life out of everyone. It was seen just last night. I wondered whether this heretic could be some kind of shapeshifter, changing form at night to cause havoc, but the warden is certain; there is no way that Shankar left his prison.”
Shock had turned to curiosity as Honorata listened. “I have never heard of anything so strange. If this was just the word of a drunkard or an imbecile then you could dismiss the story, but you seem certain.” Mihir nodded at that. “And if there is truth to this tale, then we must investigate. The Trial demands that I seek out anything unholy. To purge the profane is a most noble deed.”
“What are we to do with it?” Yonas chose that moment to interrupt. “I’m sworn to protect you from any threat, but what use is my tulwar against an unholy beast?”
“There are rituals to exorcise evil spirits, Yonas. Ancient words with immense power. They are rarely used because such a threat is rarely seen—in fact, I cannot recall hearing about anything of the like outside of the holy texts. But, I know the words and I must serve Devi’s will in this.”
She wished that she felt the confidence that her words claimed. The ancient words that she spoke of were really a matter of curiosity for bored scholars, such as Honorata in her youth, rather than anything to actually be used. Those words had fascinated her and she remembered them clearly, even now. Perhaps this could work, she thought.
Memory of Rampura
A murmur of excitement pulsed through the crowd gathered on the steps to the Rampura cathedral, signaling the appearance of the Queen. Draped in vibrant silks, a thin golden circlet on her head, she rode high in a palanquin perched on the back of a monstrous elephant. The beast’s sides were adorned with intricate scenes of glorious days past etched in fine ivory and jade. The Queens’s guard, a hundred strong, marched alongside the elephant in unison, their movements sharp and precise with red sashes of silk covering their chests, wicked curved blades at their sides.
As the procession approached the ancient steps, Mother Benedicta’s voice rang out, barking the order for the novices to begin.
Honorata responded almost instinctively, raising her voice in perfect unison with the other novices, months of practice for this very moment guiding their timing. An ancient song of worship began with the novices weaving a complex melody. A hush fell over the crowd as the hymn began and soon the square was dominated by the sound of the forty novices’ song.
As they sang, Honorata felt the familiar sense of calm fall over her. Her mind seemed to fall naturally into focus, a sense of togetherness and connection with her fellow novices enveloping her.
This was different though, this time more than just a rehearsal. This time they lent their focus to Mother Benedicta, and Honorata felt the old woman shape their song into something more, their unified worship and devotion harnessed and controlled, focused and projected. It felt mystical, as if she was touching the divine. It was as if she gave something more to the hymn than just the breath from her chest or the voice from her mouth, and with Mother Benedicta’s help, she gave something of herself along with her song.
A pale blue nimbus of light grew around the choir. Honorata was overwhelmed with joy. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she sang, overcome by the power of the occasion.
A halo of blue light began to grow around the Queen as she rode by. At first, just the hint of colour. But it grew in intensity, and before long, the sight was dazzling.
When the light was at its zenith, their song of praise at its peak, the Queen turned her head slightly towards the choir of novices and smiled, just the briefest upturning of her lips, before moving on. Honorata’s heart soared, her years of study and devotion all made worthwhile by that one perfect moment.
Chapter Three
The monster was seen again that night. Honorata had been provided a clean but basic room in Mihir’s manor, and she awoke to that news as she and Yonas joined Mihir to break their morning fast.
“The stonemason saw it.” The headman told the tale in a matter-of-fact way as he chewed his food. “He heard a noise behind his house last night and went to investigate. He stumbled upon the foul thing lurking in the dark. He reckons the thing came at him, full of fury and flashing claws if you believe the man. Reckons he was just inches away from being murdered by that horror. He’s not normally a man who’s known to exaggerate so I put some stock in what he says.” Mihir wiped at his forehead and sighed. “So, Sister, I’ve been thinking about this. It’s too much of a coincidence.”
“What do you mean by that, Mihir?” Honorata said as she sat down opposite Mihir at a small round table laden with plates of spiced potatoes and roti. Yonas joined her and turned his attention to the food, seemingly ignoring the conversation happening around him.
“The heretic and the beast. They’re calling it a ghoul, you know. It sounds like the stuff of faerie tales and it’s something vile all right, but a ghoul? I believe that we have a monster on our hands, but I’m not so sure that I’m willing to believe that the dead are walking amongst us.”
“The Church says that such things are impossible. The Song of Devi does not allow someone to interfere with a corpse; our power only works with the living. We can protect or prolong life, but it is unheard of for someone to be able to force life back into the dead.” Honorata found herself adopting the lecturing tone of her teachers.
“Maybe this isn’t the work of Devi? Maybe it’s something else?”
“Blasphemy!” She said that louder than she intended. Taking a moment to compose herself, she continued, determined to remain measured. “There is no other power in this world than Devi. Her Song is a miraculous gift and there is nothing like it. To suggest that there is some strange evil force at work is nonsense.”
“But what about what heretics do with the Song?”
“What they do is an abomination! We are taught that it is the same power that I use to heal and to bless that they twist to their own evil ends. That is why heresy must be rooted out, wherever it is found!”
“I don’t claim to know all the answers, Sister. All I know is that we have a monster running around Aluia and we’ve got a heretic tied up in a basement nearby. I can’t see the connection just yet, but it’s impossible that these two things have just happened at the same time by chance.”
Honorata contemplated that. She had never read anything in the ancient books about the dead being brought back to life. For that matter, there was nothing about monsters either. This was something for which she felt entirely unprepared, and her previous plan to call upon the prayers of exorcism had begun to seem naive. Was it possible that there was another power of which she was ignorant? Surely not. Surely, that was blasphemous lunacy.
Mihir broke her train of thought. “I want you to speak to the heretic.”
Yonas spoke before she had the chance. “Hold on a moment, Mihir, that’s unfair. You know that the Sister would do anything for you and this village, but that’s a step too far. You can’t ask her to put herself in peril like that. She’s likely to be murdered if she does that.”
“Yonas, I will speak for myself.” Honorata placed a hand on his forearm. “What would that achieve Mihir? What do you see coming from me confronting that man? I fear that there is little that I could achieve.”
“He won’t speak to us. He refuses to say a word under our interrogations.”
“Maybe that’s because he’s drugged?”
“Perhaps. But we can’t risk him gaining access to his powers.”
Honorata considered that for a moment before replying. “I will do it. Firstly, I will speak to Rani. Finding Mother Severa is more important, and I am eager to discover what Rani has to say. But once I am done, I will see this heretic. At the very least, I will offer him the proper rites before he faces his fate tomorrow. Even an evil man deserves that.”
* * *
They found Rani on her knees outside the church, pulling thorned weeds, which ventured around the building’s door. Yonas lingered behind as Honorata approached. Rani looked twice Honorata’s age, a plain woman, barefoot with a rough dress of green and brown. Her long hair was tied back, her head covered by a red scarf. Prayer beads hung loosely around her neck.
Honorata felt self-conscious at the quality of her clothing as she looked at the woman. Where she wore humble and simple clothes, Honorata’s robes were finely tailored. The black dress, the yellow cincture and scapular, all works of art compared to the quality of Rani’s clothing. She wore her black mantle for this occasion, thinking that it was only appropriate to do so when entering a church, but it somehow felt ostentatious now that she was here to see the humble place for herself. Honorata felt silly that she was almost jealous of Rani’s bare feet in comparison to her leather sandals. She didn’t have a choice in what she wore—the Church demanded it—but Rani’s path to humility seemed an easier one in some ways. Virtue forced upon the woman rather than sought out.
“Excuse me, I do not mean to interrupt, but is your name Rani?”
The woman turned from where she knelt. As she saw Honorata’s robes, she scrambled to her feet. “Sister, I had heard you had arrived in Aluia. Welcome to our humble church.”
“Thank you, daughter. This is Yonas, a member of the Order of Edessa. May we come inside?” Yonas nodded with a hint of a smile as he was introduced.
“Of course, Sister, everyone is welcome in this place.” Rani opened the door and ushered Honorata and Yonas inside. The interior of the church was lit by candles; the scent of burning incense hung heavily in the air. Wooden pews lined the room with a simple altar at the front. The altar held a bronze statuette of the entwined fish that mirrored the symbol at Honorata’s belt.
“Please take a seat, Sister.” Rani gestured to a nearby pew. Honorata accepted the offer while Yonas ambled around the room, as he casually inspected the etchings adorning the walls. Rani sat on the same pew as Honorata.
“My daughter, I commend the hard work you so clearly put into maintaining this holy place. You would be shocked to see the dilapidated state of some churches in villages throughout Pala. Your work is worthy of much praise.”
“Your words mean more to me than you know, Sister. It truly is an honour to serve Devi in whatever way I can. Aluia is a good place. The people here are not perfect, but they respect the word of Devi, and I am treated well. I hope to repay that kindness in my own way.”
“That is good news, my daughter. Very welcome news indeed. But I have not come here to investigate you on behalf of the Church. I am in the midst of the Trial of Saint Mirai. The Bishop sent me here to minister to those in need on the field of battle. While the war has moved on, there is still plenty for me to do.” She folded her hands across her lap as she said, “I have also come in search of information.”
“I don’t see how I could know anything that would be of assistance, but please, just ask, Sister, and I will tell you what I can. But I must warn you, there is one favour that I will ask of you once we are done.”
Honorata smiled at that. “I will also do whatever I can to help, my daughter. You have only to ask. The information that I seek is the whereabouts of a priestess. Mother Severa. Do you know her?”
“Yes, of course. I could never forget that woman, but that was years ago, Sister. She left Aluia long ago and has never returned.”
Honorata’s heart sank at that and she fought down a sensation of hopelessness. “Yet, I must persist with this. What can you tell me of her? Did she stay in this village? Did you speak to her? Do you have any idea as to her destination?”
Rani shook her head slightly. “I don’t know much about her. She came into Aluia unannounced much like yourself. She never truly confided in me, but I suppose I was the closest she had to a friend while she stayed here. I let her sleep in my quarters at the back of the church. She was an . . . unusual woman. Intense. Went days without saying a word and then, when she would talk, you could feel the woman’s passion.”
“Did she say anything about what she was doing here? Anything at all?” Honorata probed with a gentle voice.
“No, she never told me that. I remember she said she had come from Rampura and had journeyed alone. One time she spoke about her family, but that . . .”
Honorata interrupted at that, her thoughts suddenly scattered at the implications of that revelation. “Her family? That cannot be. Those who can hear the Song of Devi have no family but the Church.”
“She spoke of them, Sister. I cannot explain it, but she mentioned them as if she knew them. I know what happens to children when they hear the Song for the first time. It is a sad thing in some ways—no one deserves to have their family torn away from them—but it is a joyous thing to welcome a new priestess into the Church. That is why I remember this detail; it seemed strange to me then and it is strange to me now.”
“And did she say where she was going?”
“No, Sister. One morning I awoke, and she was gone. As if she had never been here.”
“Thank you, my daughter. That information will prove helpful, of that, I am sure. Now, what was the favour you wanted to ask of me?”
* * *
The child was kept in a dark room. Honorata entered alone and the girl stirred at the sound. The window was covered, but enough light seeped in to let Honorata see the weeping sores marking the girl’s face and arms. She wore a linen dress, and Honorata saw that it was soaked through in too many places. The sores must have covered much of her body.
The girl sat up and faced Honorata. Her face looked tired, almost vacant. Honorata thought she saw hopelessness in her expression, but she wondered if that was just because she herself feared this was hopeless. The room stunk of sweat and human waste, the pot in the corner in urgent need of emptying. Honorata was not sure if her senses were playing tricks on her when she sensed the faint odour of rot in the air.
“Hello, Yadhana, I am here to help you, my daughter. My name is Sister Honorata . . . but you can call me Jiya.” She could not remember the last time that she had used that name, but it felt right to share that private memory of an old life with this child. Honorata knelt before the bed. The girl stared at her, arms wrapped around her legs folded before her. She could not be older than eight years. Her family had said that she had been confined to this room for the last six months, an eternity for a child.
