'Do not be overly concerned,' Mother Gwendolin said, sensing her thoughts. 'Ohmahold is well defended and well provisioned. We can be completely self-sufficient in the event of a siege, and the Zjhon will have to battle the Wastes. When they launched their attack on the Godfist, they sent nearly two-thirds of their strength, and now they are left with insufficient troops to hold lands only recently conquered. I'm told the armies are now conscripting young women into service. These nations have already lost most of their working-age men, and now the Zjhon are sapping them of young women as well. The rural farmers have been the hardest hit. The Zjhon come unexpectedly, and the farmers have been ill prepared to defend themselves. The Zjhon take their young folk and livestock, and they make notes of any small children, so they can return for them later.
'In the meantime, the elderly and the very young are left with all of the work of growing food and caring for what remains of their livestock. The Greatland is on the cusp of famine and a full-scale revolution. I fear there are dark days ahead of us, and there is little we can do to stop it.'
'I must accept the things I cannot change and focus on what I can do, I suppose,' Catrin said, trying to find some escape from the futility. She glanced at Sister Hanna, who had not said a word since their introduction. 'Sister Hanna, perhaps there is something you can help me with. I've been trying to translate a phrase from High Script. Do you know what Om'Sa means?' she asked.
Sister Hanna appeared impressed that Catrin would attempt to translate High Script. 'I've seen that phrase only once in all my studies, and that was in one of the oldest texts we have. High Script evolved over the centuries, and the earliest versions are the most difficult to translate. From the context in which I saw the phrase, I interpreted it to mean departure or exodus of the first men. I cannot be certain my translation is correct, for phrases in early High Script can have many meanings, depending on the order of the words and their context, which makes the translation more art than science. In what context, may I ask, did you see this phrase?'
'Om'Sa is the name of a book that was given to me. It's very old, and I could not translate much of it. It's in my room at the First Inn, perhaps we could ask Benjin to bring it with him this evening,' Catrin said, and Sister Hanna seemed genuinely excited about the prospect.
Mother Gwendolin added the request to her missive and sent the young monk to deliver the message.
'I know this has been a trying day for you, Catrin, and for me as well, but I sense events are beginning to accelerate. I'm sorry to bring this up, but I think it will be important for you to understand the nature and properties of noonstone,' Mother Gwendolin said, and Catrin wondered what noonstone was.
'From what we know, the fish figurine you found, Imeteri's Fish, was carved from noonstone. Noonstone is very rare, and as you found, it can be used to store a finite amount of Istra's energy. In truth, noonstones are actually crystals that only form under the most rare circumstances. The old texts say they only form during the Istran noon, when thousands of comets can be seen in the skies at any given time. Even then, it is written that they only form under deep salt water and only when the wind is blowing east.'
Catrin found it hard to imagine anything could be so rare, and again she felt the sting of having destroyed Imeteri's Fish. 'How did the ancients find and retrieve the crystals if they were under deep water?'
'We don't know,' Mother Gwendolin admitted. 'While that remains a mystery, there are some things I do know. Noonstone is clear and shiny when it is fully charged, and it becomes chalky and porous when its store of energy has been depleted. When energy is drawn from the stone, it grows warm to the touch, and if you draw too much energy too fast, then it will get hot. If you continue to draw upon a depleted stone, it will eventually disintegrate, and the crumbled remains will no longer be viable. The stone will be destroyed.'
Catrin nodded in acceptance. Much of what Mother Gwendolin said confirmed what she had deduced on her own-only too late. It was good to have the information confirmed, but Catrin doubted she would ever find another noonstone, which made the discussion seem pointless.
'What is Istra? Is she a goddess or a bunch of rocks in the sky?' Catrin asked, partially in an attempt to change the subject.
Mother Gwendolin laughed and shook her head. 'You've a talent for asking questions that are nearly impossible to answer,' she said. 'Again, understand that this is my opinion. I believe the ancient peoples had no way to explain heavenly bodies, so they made up stories of gods and goddesses to define the unknown. Istra was their personification of the comet storm that lasted for over a hundred and fifty years. And comets are not big rocks in the sky; those are called asteroids. We believe comets are made of ice and they radiate their own energy. It is this energy you feel, much like you feel the warmth of the sun.
'If you explore ancient legends and stories of the gods and goddesses, you will find all the major heavenly bodies represented in some way or another. The sun is known as Vestra, the periodic comet storm is known as Istra, and the moon is known as the Dead God, father of the gods and goddesses, who was said to have been killed by his children. Groups of stars were given names and attributed grand deeds. It was even believed that great kings and heroes would become chains of stars upon their deaths. I believe the comet storm is a very natural occurrence, and some of our order have even hypothesized that comets may have been the very source of life itself. If comets are truly made of ice, then it could have been a comet that collided with Godsland and provided her oceans.'
Catrin watched as her simple world of gods and goddesses dissolved into a highly complex universe of endless possibilities. If the gods did not really exist, at least in the form of omniscient super-beings, then who decided fate? Could life possibly be nothing more than a series of random occurrences? The evidence pointed toward something even grander than predestination and far more logical than random chaos. Life seemed to consist of many patterns and appeared to follow certain rules. The rules allow for a certain amount of predictability, whereas the complexity of the interacting forces provide entropy, resulting in a constantly changing universe based on orderly precepts-order within chaos.
The thoughts were as confusing to Catrin as they were revealing, and she had a difficult time coming to terms with the multitude of possibilities. She sat quietly for a time, simply allowing her thoughts to flow.
Mother Gwendolin must have sensed that she was overwhelmed because she adjourned their meeting for the day. In addition, the afternoon shadows had grown long, and they needed to get back to the Outer Sanctuary to meet with Benjin. The other monks bade Catrin and Mother Gwendolin a good evening and returned to their own tasks, and Catrin followed Mother Gwendolin back to the Outer Sanctuary.
When they arrived at one of the private dining rooms, they found Benjin already seated and in the middle of a glass of wine. Catrin's waxed leather bookcase sat on the table. Mother Gwendolin left Benjin and Catrin in privacy for a while.
'How are the others faring?' Catrin asked and was relieved to see him smile.
'Better than I would have anticipated, which is a blessing; it could have been a very long winter. Instead, Osbourne has taken up glassmaking and has really shown some promise. Milo seems truly thrilled to have an apprentice. Gustad has taken Strom under his wing, and I think he might be the father figure the boy needed. Strom has already proven himself a capable smith under Gustad's instruction, and I foresee a new future ahead of him. Vertook is in his absolute glory. He's managed to get Brunson to attempt the Arghast method of horse training. Brunson allowed Vertook to select any foal he desired, and then he selected one for himself. Now the two of them are spending every waking moment bonding with the foals. They even sleep in the fields with the animals.
'I've been working with Chase on his swordsmanship. He's quickly becoming a capable fighter, and the exercise is helping his arm heal. We spend a good deal of time discussing strategies and gambits. He's made it quite clear that he's committed to protecting you. He doesn't begrudge the others their pursuits, but he'll have none of it. All his efforts are dedicated to preparation for what may lie ahead.' He paused when Mother Gwendolin returned, her face an impassive mask, and Benjin was clearly taken aback by her stark visage. Catrin sat in quiet suspense, trying to decide if she should leave the two in privacy, but she could not make herself move.
'Benjin, I have wronged you, and I am very sorry,' Mother Gwendolin began. 'I'll put this as kindly as I can, but there is no easy way to tell you. When we first met, I fell in love with you, and I was envious of your feelings for Elsa. You pined after her when I was right there for the taking.' She stopped a moment when she saw the look of shock on Benjin's face, which slowly turned to one of comprehension and shame.
'How could I have been so blind?' he said softly, but Mother Gwendolin gave him no time to feel guilty.
'Do you remember when you asked me to help you transcribe my notes?' she asked, and he nodded mutely. 'I was angry and my feelings were hurt, and I did a poor job on the pages I transcribed. I copied what I considered the most important things and left out some of the cursory details. My omission cost you dearly, and again, I'm very sorry. I would change it if I could,' she said, and she handed him a page from her notes-the page describing mother's root.
He looked baffled at first as he read over the information he had memorized years ago, but then he came to
