'Well, what if they did?' Olyvria said. 'The pious men and women who'd abandoned the world would be safe in Phos' heaven, and the invaders would surely go to the ice when their days were done.'
'Yes, and the worship of Phos would go out of the world, for the Makuraners reverence their Four Prophets, not the good god,' Phostis said. 'No one who worshiped Phos would be left, and Skotos would have the victory in this world. The realm beyond the sun would gain no new recruits, but the dark god would have to carve new caverns into the ice.' He spat in ritual rejection of Skotos.
Olyvria frowned. The very tip of her tongue poked out of her mouth for a moment. Her voice was troubled as she said, 'This argument has more weight than I would have looked for.'
'No it don't,' Syagrios said with a raucous laugh. 'The two of you's quarreling over whether you'd like your cow's eggs better poached or fried. Truth is, a cow ain't about to lay no eggs—and whole flocks of people ain't about to starve themselves to death, neither. Come to that, is either one o'
'No,' Olyvria said quietly. Phostis shook his head.
'Well, then,' Syagrios said, and laughed even louder.
'But if you're not ready to leave the world behind, how can you be a proper Thanasiot?' Phostis asked with the relentless logic of the young.
'That's a bloody good question.' Syagrios whacked Phostis on the back, almost hard enough to knock him sprawling into the muck that passed for a street. 'You ain't as dumb as you look, kid.' The day was gloomy, the sky an inverted bowl full of thick gray clouds. The gold ring in Syagrios' ear glinted nonetheless. In Etchmiadzin he did not wear it to deceive those not of his faith, for the Thanasioi ruled the town. But he did not take it out, either.
'Syagrios, to say one can be a good Thanasiot only through starvation contradicts the faith as the holy Thanasios set it forth, which you know perfectly well.' Olyvria sounded as if she were holding onto patience with both hands.
Syagrios caught the warning in her voice. Suddenly he reverted to being a guardsman rather than an equal. 'As you say. my lady,' he answered. Had Phostis told him the same thing, the ruffian would have torn into him in argument and likely j with fists and booted feet, as well.
But Phostis, though prisoner in Etchmiadzin, was not Olyvria's servitor. Moreover, he actively enjoyed theological disputation. Turning to Olyvria, he said, 'But if you choose to live in Skotos' world, surely you compromise with evil, and compromise with evil takes you to the ice, not so?'
'But not everyone is or can be suited to leaving the world of his own will,' Olyvria said. 'The holy Thanasios teaches that those who feel they must remain in Skotos' realm may yet gain merit along two byroads of the gleaming path. In one, they may lessen the temptations of the material for themselves and for those around them.'
'Those who follow that byroad would be the men your father leads,' Phostis said.
Olyvria nodded. 'Them among others. But it is also virtuous to content yourself with simple things: black bread instead of white, coarse cloth rather than fine. The more you do without, the less you subject yourself to Skotos.'
'Yes, I see the point,' Phostis said slowly.
'Why, ministering to those who have chosen the path of greater abnegation,' Olyvria answered. 'By helping them as they advance along the gleaming path, those who stay behind bask in their reflected piety, so to speak.'
'Hmm,' Phostis said. At first hearing, that sounded good. But after a moment, he said, 'How does that make their dealings with those of greater holiness different from any peasant's dealings with a noble?'
Olyvria gave him an exasperated glare. 'It's different because the usual run of noble wallows in corruption, thinking mostly of his purse and his, ah, member, and so a peasant who serves such a man is but drawn deeper into the sensual mire. But our pious heroes reject all the lures of the world and inspire others to do likewise to the degree that is in their power.'
'Hmm,' Phostis said again. 'Something to that, I suppose.' He wondered how much. A good noble of the non- Thanasiot sort helped the peasants on his land get through hard times, defended them against raiders if he lived near a frontier, and didn't go around seducing their women. Phostis knew a good many nobles, and knew of a good many more. He wondered how maintaining one's dependents rated against the individual pursuit of piety. The good god knew for certain, but Phostis doubted whether anyone merely human did.
Before he could say as much, a familiar figure from Livanios' miniature court at the keep came stamping up the street: the fellow who seemed to be the heresiarch's chief wizard. Despite all his time in Etchmiadzin, Phostis still had not learned the man's name. Now he wore a thick wool caftan with bright vertical stripes, and on his head a fur cap with ear-flaps that might have come straight off the plains of Pardraya.
He touched his forehead, lips, and chest in greeting to Olyvria, gave Phostis a measuring stare, and ignored Syagrios. 'He's going into Strabon's house,' Phostis said. 'What does he want with someone who likely won't be here two weeks from now and may riot be here tomorrow?'
'He visits everyone he can who chooses to leave the world of evil things,' Olyvria answered. 'I don't know why; if he's as curious as most mages, perhaps he seeks to learn as much as he can about the world to come while still remaining in this one.'
'Maybe.' Phostis supposed one did not cease to be a mage, or a tanner, or a tailor, on becoming a Thanasiot. 'What
Olyvria paused visibly before she answered. Syagrios stepped into the breach: 'He doesn't like people knowin' his name, for fear they'll work magic with it.'
'That's silly. He must not be much of a wizard, then,' Phostis said. 'My father's chief mage is named Zaidas, and he doesn't care who knows it. He says if you can't protect yourself from name magic, you have no business taking up sorcery in the first place.'
'Not all wizards have the same ways,' Olyvria said. Since that was too obviously true to require comment, Phostis let it go.
