night’s Giving of Praise unto the One of Mouths. Would it not be salutary for Hele’a of Ghaton to be guested at that feast? There will be many present-and some who will doubtless report our hospitality back to the Baron of Yan Kor. He shall thus gain fresh insight into our alertness and our unwillingness to be spied upon.”
The blank, black marble eyes turned to Harsan and thence to Eyil. “These two shall join our celebrations as well-another lesson in obedience may not be superfluous. And there will be one there whom I wish them to meet. Do you unbind them, Vridekka, place them in a cell, and then escort them to the great hall of our Temple of Rising from the Tomb when the time draws nigh.”
Chapter Nineteen
Evil collapsed upon the stone floor of the little cell, rubbing her wrists and ankles. One of the guards tossed her soiled street-cloak into the chamber after them, and this Harsan wrapped about her shoulders. He reached for her hand, and silently she drew it to her cheek. He felt hot tears upon his fingers.
“He will slay us, Harsan,” she said, “just as soon as he has the Man of Gold.” She rocked her body back and forth so that her long tresses cascaded down over his wrists.
“Prince Dhich’une shall not have it, Eyil. I know now. The Globe will not let me speak. I-tried-when he would have hurt you.”
“I know. I saw. Yet he does not need your telling, my love. He can make you guide him, and at each turning of the path that hateful old man will be there to try you, to test you, and to trick you. Whenever the seal drops across your mind, Vridekka will know that he stands all the closer to the truth.”
“There will be a way-”
“He will use me against you!” she burst out. She realised, as though struck by a summer lightning bolt, that this man-this Harsan, this priest of a God opposed to hers-meant much indeed. His wide, high-boned, serious, rustic-silly-scholarly face was more dear than ever she had thought her emerald and purple Goddess to be. Prince Dhich’une had inadvertently opened one door too many within her mind.
How could she right this wrong?
“Oh, Harsan, the Skull-Prince made me agree to aid him-to plead with you, to let you play the romantic hero of the epics-” Her fingers tightened about his wrists, nails digging into his flesh. “Listen well, Harsan! If ever you felt-affection-for me, you must cease to feel it now! You must hate me, care nothing for me. If you do not, he will herd you before him as a peasant goads his Chlen- beast, and the Man of Gold will be his.”
“How can I hate you, Eyil?”
“You-you will.” She drew a deep and ragged breath. He saw that she was trembling, near to breaking, still so shaken by the events of this awful night that she could hardly collect her thoughts.
“I shall tell you what I am, and then you will despise me. The Eyil you know is head to foot a scroll of lies, Harsan! I am no worshipper of your motherly, cherubic Avanthe! I am a priestess of Lady Hrihayal, the Whore of the Five Worlds and Mistress of the Thirty-Two Unspeakable Acts! There is no Lord Retlan, no clan-elders sending a naive little girl to be wed in Bey Sii! I am Aridani, Harsan, Aridani — one who has renounced your domestic, bucolic life-and obedience to her clan, and all else that you seem to hold dear!”
It had all poured out in a rush. She paused for breath, then hurried on. It was important to say it before the Worm Prince-or her own devious subconscious mind-made her stop, dissemble, and try to befool him again.
‘‘For twenty generations we of the Green Kirtle Clan have sent our most beautiful and talented daughters to serve either mighty Dlamelish or else her Cohort, Lady Hrihayal. Five of those women became High Priestesses, three achieved the final and greatest of all devotions, the Thirty-Second Act! I am one of Hrihayal’s handmaidens, Harsan, a member of the Fourth Circle. The things I have done-and have gladly had done to me-the rituajs-your sexless, high-minded grey-robes could never imagine-!”
He stood blinking at her. “Eyil-it does not matter now.” “You ask why I drew you into my net? Because our temple desires your treasure too, as badly as does the Skull-Prince-or your pious Lord Durugen hiNashomai, or a half dozen other temples. What we would do with the Man of Gold I know not-I was not told. But we sought it so mightily that the Lady Misenla, our High Priestess, sent to the Lady Elulen hiQolyelmu, the Commandant of the Rituals in our temple in Tumissa, and bid her choose just such a girl who could appeal to you, a young scholar of Thumis, untried in the world outside of his monastery, filled with zeal and-and-” She strove to gain control of her voice. “Yes, I was to prevent you from reaching the Man of Gold, steal its secrets if possible, and above all to make certain that it fell into no hands but ours.”
“Why, then, did you not slay me and take the relics?” he asked gently. “You had every opportunity.”
She waved him to silence. “My Lady Elulen is not of the Clan of the Emerald and Silver Crown, the inner society within our hierarchy which Lady Misenla leads. The Clan favours violent action. But Lady Elulen is not eager to break the Concordat- there are political reasons, as well as theological ones. She thus chose me-she knows I am no murderer-and she was sure that Misenla did not know me. I was to do with my body-and my arts-what Misenla would have accomplished with a dagger or with poison or with sorcery. Our teachings say that the flame of sex will always' triumph; little need for swords or arrows or spells!”
“In this your teachings speak truth,” Harsan muttered ruefully. “Yes, and soon I would have had it all, too. Then that stupid girl Sriya tried to drug you-Misenla’s doing, for she is impatient and would not wait for my slower methods to work. Sriya’s blunder did open a path into the heart of your temple for me. Oh, Harsan, I could have made you betray your God and your duty and your soul itself with no more than these poor, small breasts and these thighs! Do you not hate me for this?”
“No. I guessed long ago that you were not what you seemed.” “I did make mistakes. But-”
“There were many little things. Even on the road I think I had doubts, though I explained them all away to myself. You knew too little of the doctrines of Lady Avanthe, yet you argued so cleverly about theology. Had you really been just a naive little clan-girl, you could hardly have disputed with me so. And then there was the amulet of Tahele, the Maiden of Beauty, that I bought you. You did not wear it. At first I thought that you did not care for me, or that it was too poor a gift. But it is the custom of the worshippers of Lady Avanthe to wear a symbol of Tahele, especially when it is given by a lover, a suitor… I felt that no true devotee of the Blue Goddess would refuse Her protection thus. Tahele shields a young girl’s beauty from harm and keeps old age at bay.”
“I see.” Her hands brought his up to cup tear-wet cheeks. “Then th ere was the Legion of Kaikama. I could not have known at the time, but when I met a soldier of that Legion in the governor’s garden, I reali sed that he served Hrihayal-the purple and green uniform…”
“I had a lie ready for you. That Legion is generalled by Lord Kaikama hiMrachiyaku, a brilliant young man who prefers men. I would have told you that Retlan’s ‘son’ was of that predilection, and that he had abandoned the faith of Avanthe to follow a lover of our sect.”
“I might have believed it,” he replied, “though by then I was adding up all too many of these little wrongnesses. Still-I managed to conceal all of this from myself. My capacity for self-deception is well-nigh as great as that of others for duping me-alas, greater!” He sighed.
“As we say, ‘self-deception is one of the Greater Aspects of love.’ ” She pushed him away, then drew him back again with a convulsive shudder. “Hate me, Harsan, hate me! Make me useless to the accursed Skull-Prince! He may kill me, but he may also cast me aside as a pawn who has been captured! In any case I shall not then be a halter for your neck, and they will have to use Vridekka to play at guess-me-not with you! You may find some way to win! Perhaps you can mislead them, delay them, and halloo them hither and thither until there is a chance for escape-or rescue-or for others to find the Man of Gold first! Or at least you can die your own death and cheat them of their goal!”
The cell was cold. He warmed her body with his.
“I cannot, Eyil. I care nothing for who you are, or who you were. Now I cannot do your bidding, for you have wrought only too well with your arts.”
Above them, in the darkness, a tiny aperture closed. Vridekka smiled to himself and rubbed skeletal fingers together. How very wise of his master to place these two together thus. The youthful, gallant bonds Harsan had forged with his lady-love were now reinforced a thousand times over by this exchange of confidences! A city defended by such strength would be impregnable! He chuckled and crept away down the winding passage to report to Prince Dhich’une.
