Profane rites, p.6
Profane Rites, page 6
“I don’t think you’ve got much choice, to be fair,” said Yonas, as he savoured the liquor. “Maybe you need a pack of butchers to deal with a threat like Shankar and the ghoul? I’d rather have them on our side than against us.”
Mihir rubbed at his chin, before standing and taking his usual position looking out the window over Aluia. “Perhaps you’re right, Yonas. I don’t like it, but what choice do I have? Rampura won’t send help. Brewer is too cowardly to do anything. I don’t have enough capable men here to scour the jungle to flush out our enemies. And doing nothing means that all of Aluia will go on living in fear. That is, until those monsters choose to end us.”
Turning from the window to Honorata, Mihir said, “Sister, would you go speak to Partho for us? The Church will be seen as neutral in all of this, and your word will carry weight with him. For all his flaws, I still believe Partho to fear Devi. You might be able to convince him to act.”
“Yes, of course, Mihir. I will do that for Aluia. I want nothing of this conflict, which has caused so much pain to the people of Pala, but something must be done to root out the evil that has gripped this place. Yes, Partho is your best hope. I will speak to him.”
“Thank you, Sister. May Devi bless you.”
Honorata stood, having no desire to spend more time than necessary watching these two men drink. “I will leave tomorrow. But, before I go, I wish to do what I can for those that the ghoul wounded in the market today. Could you tell me where they are being cared for?”
“Yes, of course, Sister. We have a hospice set up not far from here. Beside the tanner’s workshop alongside the river. You will find the wounded there, and I hope that you can do something for them. In the meantime, I will have some rations and supplies prepared for you and Yonas.”
“Thank you, Mihir,” she said. Honorata turned to leave. Yonas gulped the rest of his drink before following.
* * *
The hospice was a squat building, painted white and made from the chuna surkhi—bricks and lime mortar—which seemed to be the preferred way for the villagers of Aluia to construct their more important structures. It was indeed near the tanner as Mihir had described, and the awful stink of that place combined with the swampy mud of the banks of the river overwhelmed Honorata’s nose.
Yonas waited outside when she went in, content to rest in the shade by the door. She wanted her bodyguard to enjoy any small comfort he could that day. He had more than proven his worth in the first experience of real danger that they had come across since leaving Rampura together. Still quite a withdrawn man despite their weeks traveling together, Honorata thought, but a fine companion to have in these dangerous parts.
It felt comparatively cool inside the hospice. The bricks brought the temperature down and what little wind there was flowed through the place, reducing the stickiness of the humid air somewhat. Ten pallets were lined up against the walls, five on each side. All but two were occupied. Honorata saw Rani working with another woman to try and clean the wounds of an injured man. His arm had been savaged by the ghoul and Honorata could tell at just a glance that he was likely to lose that limb. If not, surely an infection was almost certain, and even if he survived that, the arm would surely be next to useless.
But it was not her place to direct them as to how to tend to these men. Both Rani and the other woman had noticed Honorata enter now, and they offered her a small bow—an acknowledgment of her standing, which made Honorata uncomfortable. Even an acolyte garnered respect in a place like this. She signaled for them to return to their work with a nod as she went to the first pallet.
There Falgun lay, his face almost entirely covered in bandages. She recognised him by his dark suit, now torn and disheveled, soaked in his own blood. “Falgun, my child, it is Sister Honorata.”
“Sister! Your voice is a most welcome sound.” Honorata could sense that he was trying to sound positive, but she could discern the despair in the man’s tone. She did not want to ask, but she suspected the man’s eyes were destroyed by the ghoul’s claws. A most terrible wound. The man’s life was as surely ruined as his sight.
“With your permission, Falgun, I would pray for you. I do not claim to be a miracle worker, but Devi’s blessing can be a most mysterious boon. I would not give up hope for your recovery just yet.”
Falgun’s facade of optimism disappeared at that, and his body began to shake as he was wracked with sobs. Without a further word, Honorata placed both hands upon his head and began to pray. Her well-worn prayer of healing. The hopeful plea for Devi to intervene. The blessing of the forlorn. The blue nimbus surrounded them both, flowing from Honorata to Falgun. The light calmed him, distancing him from his emotions, erecting a barrier between him and the agony of adjusting to his new reality.
Once she had finished, she said, “Sleep now, Falgun. I have done all that I can, and the rest is up to Devi.”
“Thank you, Sister,” said Falgun before he lay back in his bed. She could not tell if he slept, but he seemed calmer. That was all that she could do for the man. Perhaps it was all that anyone, Devi included, could do for one so grievously injured.
The next man was the heavyset guard who had attacked the ghoul with the gurz. He was awake, having watched Honorata as she had prayed over Falgun. His shirt was removed, his chest and shoulders heavily bandaged. A hint of blood was shown through the white fabric.
“I saw you fight today, my child. You faced a foe evil beyond our comprehension, and you showed great bravery.”
“I was terrified, Sister. The thing almost ripped me apart in the end. I could feel the hate coming off that monster as it tore into me.” He looked pale, his skin betraying the slight sheen of sweat. Too soon for an infection to have set in, and Honorata surmised that the man was close to panic.
“Rest easy, you have done your duty and you are to be commended. There is no shame in feeling fear, particularly when your actions were so bold.” And with that, she placed her hands upon his shoulder and began to pray. The blue glow allowed the man to calm himself, colour returning to his flesh, and he seemed to rest more comfortably having heard Honorata’s words and experienced Devi’s blessing.
And so, she went around the room. Blessing each injured man, offering words of comfort and support. Hiding her despair as she saw injuries that she knew that no one could recover from, fearful of the harm that she would cause if she let her concern for them show. Some would not survive, even with the finest surgeon in Rampura, let alone the basic treatment that they were receiving here.
She left with a heavy heart.
Memory of Rampura
“The wicked flee when there is no one to confront them, but the righteous are as bold as a tiger. When a land turns to sin, it has many lords, but with a woman of humility and devotion, the strength of that place will long continue. A poor man who oppresses the weak is a barren season that leaves no food. Those who forsake the law praise the cruel and the wicked, but those who keep the law strive against them. Evil men do not understand justice, but those who devote themselves to Devi understand it completely.”
Mother Benedicta’s voice boomed around the room. Honorata had heard these words many times before, but the Church favoured repetition to educate their acolytes. She sat on a hard wooden pew, much like those in the chapel, but there had never been a ceremony performed in this place. This was a place for education, where the acolytes came daily to be taught the proper way of thinking, the right way to follow Devi’s word.
“And so it is, my children, that the Bhagava has taught us much about how to live a life that Devi would be proud of. Before she came to us, the Church was a very different thing. There were more good words than good deeds, and those who called themselves the most devout often walked furthest from Devi’s path.”
She paced in front of the class, twenty-four acolytes who spent every day together enduring these lessons. She spoke slowly, deliberately, savouring each word, over-emphasising her points, as if her vigour would make her lessons all the more compelling.
“But since we were blessed with her wisdom, the Church became a place to be proud of. She built everything you see around you by the force of her wisdom alone. The most humble of teachers. The most intelligent of thinkers. The most devout of all. It may seem strange to think of this, but the things I teach you were once unorthodox and controversial. This land was once a place filled with heathens and heretics.”
Honorata battled a yawn, shifting subtly in her seat in an attempt to invigorate herself. She knew the punishment for ill-discipline, and it was simply not worth it to allow Mother Benedicta to have any reason to inflict that pain. She had spent too many weeks on her hands and knees scrubbing stone floors when she first joined the abbey, and she was careful now to avoid that same fate repeating itself. The other acolytes were similarly disciplined; they all had gone through that process together, and now it was a rarity for punishment to be required.
“Her words could not be denied. And the Song of Devi made it abundantly clear—the Bhagava was Devi’s chosen one. How else could she have discovered the Song? How else could she have performed such miracles? Even the unbelievers were compelled to accept her truth in the end. With the Pope in Rome swearing himself to her, Rampura became the jewel that we all know today. Pala became the centre of the civilised world. My children, you have no idea how lucky you are to be brought into the Church at such an incredible time. You truly are all blessed.”
Honorata often thought of her family at moments like that. The mother and father whose faces she could barely recall. Her siblings whom she had never really known and who had surely forgotten her after so many years apart. Another life in a fishing village, a life free of structure and rules, a life she could have made for herself. A life that she had been denied when the Song began to flow through her.
“For even if the greatest sinner kneels before me and offers me his soul, he must be considered most righteous; because Devi recognises that man’s righteous will. And so, he shall soon become pure and reach everlasting peace, through rebirth and eternal life and the humility of devotion.”
Chapter Seven
The road to Partho’s fort wound through some of the deepest jungle that Honorata had ever encountered. They had been warned about the dangers of this journey. Tigers were known to hunt these wilds. The path crossed numerous streams and there was the ever-present danger of crocodiles. There were even stories about rhinoceros and elephants attacking travelers who stumbled upon them.
And more than the threats posed by wildlife, the route itself was difficult for Honorata. Her heavy robes did not help, although she had removed her yellow scapular so that she wore only her black dress, fastened at her waist with the yellow cincture, along with her leather sandals. She was thankful for her shorn head at times like these. She could only imagine how uncomfortable long hair would be in these surrounds, as the sweat dripped easily from her scalp.
She was struggling up a difficult hill, the path a hazardous maze of errant stones and roots twisting their way to the surface, when Yonas put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up from her feet to see him with a single finger held against his lips. Her ears searched for any sound beyond the heave of her own breathing. The only sounds she could make out were the dueling calls of jungle birds, those animals unconcerned with the travelers in their midst. Yonas indicated with a tilt of his head that they should continue on. He led her a few feet more before dropping to his knees, and then prone on the ground. She mimicked his movements, ignoring the fact that she was dirtying her dress in doing so. They crawled to the rise.
Peeking over the top of the hill, Honorata saw what it was that had caused Yonas pause. The path continued, sloping down and to the left, cutting its way through the dense foliage, which pressed in from each side and loomed overhead. As the path curved, a small clearing had opened to the right.
Camping in that space were four men. Dirty, ragged, and well-armed. One tended a small fire, an empty pot and a recently killed rabbit to his side. He was a wiry man, not much taller than Honorata, wearing a lungi but shirtless and barefoot. A bow and a bundle of arrows lay within reach.
Two others sat nearby, chatting idly. One was portly and bald, wearing only a pair of dirty trousers, his exposed gut hanging over the waist of his pants. A spear rested across his lap. The other was a man of medium build, missing his left eye having traded an ugly scar in its place. He wore a filthy kurta – a loose shirt which had long list its colour - over a pair of trousers and carried a knife.
The last man was a brute. He was tall, with long hair, and a thick beard covered his face. He wore only a simple pair of trousers, his exposed torso heavy with muscle. At his waist, hung a sukhela— a straight sword, about four feet in length. He was standing side on to where Honorata watched him, attending to some task amongst the pile of belongings that rested in their camp.
Honorata and Yonas watched the men for a long while before Yonas indicated that they should move back down the path. Once a safe distance away, he spoke.
“These men, surely they are up to no good. We are an hour’s walk from anywhere where good people live, and apart from that archer, they don’t carry the weapons of hunters. I fear they are bandits.”
Honorata thought on that. She abhorred violence and she could see a confrontation brewing if Yonas was correct in his assessment of these men. They did not appear to be a terrible threat to Honorata’s eye, but she knew that she was untrained in these matters. Far better to rely on the opinion of the one versed in martial affairs.
“What should we do, Yonas? I do not want to see blood shed this day, either ours or theirs.”
“I’m not sure that we’ve many options, Sister. I don’t know another route to Partho’s fort. I fear getting lost in this jungle much more than I’m afraid of some ruffians by the side of the road. I think it’s simple: either we go on or we go back.”
“And what do we do about these men?”
“Either we fight them, or we don’t.” Yonas became uncharacteristically serious as he gave Honorata his assessment of the situation. She suspected that he was already resigned to the fact that he would need to draw his sword shortly.
“Perhaps we could talk to them? If they fear Devi, then surely the sight of the symbol I carry would be enough to dissuade them from combat?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m happy for you to have a chat with them, Sister, but we need a plan for if things go wrong. I’m praying to Devi that they don’t, and maybe I’ll be shown to be jumping at shadows, but I’d much rather be ready for this lot than to be caught by surprise.”
“We have spent half the day getting here, Yonas. I am reluctant to turn back. I think I can convince these men that we are no threat and that we should be left to go on our way.”
Yonas nodded. “You do that, Sister, and I pray for your success. But I’ll be ready. Please forgive me if I need to do something you don’t like over there, Sister.”
“I trust you to do the right thing, Yonas. I accept that I am walking us into this with your warning in mind. But, surely four against one is too far a challenge, even for you?”
Yonas smiled at that. “Let me worry about that, Sister. The Order of Edessa takes on some poor-quality men, but they turn them into pretty good fighters, I can assure you of that.”
After having seen Yonas so skillfully fight the ghoul just the day before, she believed him. Her worry was that there were four other lives in the balance.
“Come, let us do this now. I will walk into their camp in the spirit of peace and announce ourselves.”
She strode up the hill again, Yonas in tow, this time with no effort at remaining stealthy. The men came back into view as they crested the rise. The wiry man had managed to skin the hare and had it roasting over the flames of the cook fire. The brute had joined the other two who waited nearby for their share of the food. It was the big man who saw them first. He nudged one of his companions and said something quietly, and before long all four men were facing them, watching as they approached.
The brute stepped forward to meet Honorata. “Hello, Sister. You’re a long way from home.”
“May Devi bless you, my child. Yes, my companion and I have traveled far, and we still have quite a way to go.” As she spoke, she felt an odd sensation. Like a scratch at the back of her mind. A feeling which became stronger the closer she came to the men’s camp. “What can you tell us about the road ahead?”
She stopped walking now, Yonas two paces behind her. That odd feeling still tickling her senses. Something familiar, yet alien.
The brute paused, as if listening to an imperceptible sound for a moment, before responding. “We don’t know much about the road ahead, but there’s plenty of dangers in this area. You two should sit with us and rest a while. We could share stories about our travels and keep each other safe.”
It was Honorata’s turn to pause. Something was not right. That sensation remained, and she began to realise that it was an aura emanating from the brute. And then it struck her as to what it reminded her of. Shankar’s aura. It felt quite different, almost as if it was a related sensation rather than the same thing, but once she examined it, she sensed the hint of that roiling feeling of discomfort. Traces of that aura of revulsion. Alien and profane, and terrifying in its strangeness.
Honorata took a step backwards. She heard Yonas shift at that, but she was not willing to take her eyes off the man. She was not sure if it was her eyes playing tricks on her, but thought for a moment that she saw a glimmer of purple flash in his eyes.
