<blockquote>
_30th Nemesis 332_<br>
To the Clergy of the Chapter,<br>
Both Severally and Collectively<br>
Greetings in the name of Pas, in the name of Scylla, and in
the names of all gods! Know that you are ever in my
thoughts, as in my heart.
The present disturbed state of Our Sacred City obliges us
to be even more conscious of our sacred duty to minister to
the dying, not only to those amongst them with whose recent
actions we may sympathize, but to all those to whom, as we
apprehend, Hierax may swiftly reveal his compassionate
power. Thus it is that I implore you this day to cultivate the
perpetual and indefatigable--
</blockquote>
Patera Remora composed this, Silk thought; and as though Remora
sat before him, he saw Remora's long, sallow, uplifted face, the tip
of the quill just brushing his lips as he sought for a complexity of
syntax that would satisfy his insatiate longing for caution and
precision.
<blockquote>
The perpetual and indefatigable predisposition toward
mercy and pardon whose conduit you so frequently must be.
Many of you have appealed for guidance in these most
disturbing days. Nay, many appeal so still, even hourly.
Most of you will have learned before you read this epistle of
the lamented demise of the presiding officer of the Ayuntamiento.
The late Councillor Lemur was a man of extraordinary
gifts, and his passing cannot but leave a void in every heart.
How I long to devote the remainder of this necessarily
curtailed missive to mourning his passing. Instead, for such
are the exactions of this sad whorl, the whorl that passes, my
duty to you requires that I forewarn you without delay
against the baseless pretexts of certain vile insurgents who
would have you to believe that they act in the late Councillor
Lemur's name.
Let us set aside, my beloved clergy, all fruitless debate
regarding the propriety of an intercaldean caesura spanning
some two decades. That the press of unhappy events then
rendered an interval of that kind, if not desirable, then
unquestionably attractive, we can all agree. That it represented,
to judgements not daily schooled to the nice discriminations
of the law, a severe strain upon the elasticity of
our Charter, we can agree likewise, can we not? The
argument is wholly historical now. O beloved, let us resign it
to the historians.
What is inarguable is that this caesura, to which I have had
reason to refer above, has attained to its ordained culmination.
It cannot, O my beloved clergy, as it should not,
survive the grievous loss which it has so recently endured.
What, then, we may not illegitimately inquire, is to succeed
that just, beneficent and ascendant government so sadly
terminated?
Beloved clergy, let us not be unmindful of the wisdom of
the past, wisdom which lies in no less a vehicle than our own
Chrasmologic Writings. Has it not declared, '_Vox poputi,
vox dei_'? which is to say, in the will of the masses we may
discern words of Pas's. At the present critical moment in the
lengthy epic of Our Sacred City, Pas's grave words are not to
be mistaken. With many voices they cry out that the time has
arrived for a precipitate return to that Charteral guardianship
which once our city knew. Shall it be said of us that we
stop our ears to Pas's words?
Nor is their message so brief, and so less than mistakable.
From forest to lake, from the proud crown of the Palatine to
the humblest of alleys they proclaim him. O my beloved
clergy, with what incommunicable joy shall I do so additionally.
For Supreme Pas has, as never previously, espoused for
our city a calde from within our own ranks, an anointed
augur, holy, pious, and redolent of sanctity.
May I name him? I shall, yet surely I need not. There is
not one amongst you, Beloved Clergy, who will not know
that name prior to mine overjoyed acclamation. It is Patera
Silk. Again I say, Patera Silk!
How readily here might I inscribe, let us welcome him and
obey him as one of ourselves. With what delight shall I
inscribe in its place, let us welcome him and obey him, for he
is one of ourselves!
May every god favor you, beloved clergy. Blessed be you
in the Most Sacred Name of Pas, Father of the Gods, in that
of Gradous Echidna, His Consort, in those of their Sons and
their Daughters alike, this day and forever, in the name of
their eldest child, Scylla, Patroness of this, Our Holy City of
Viron. Thus say I, Pa. Quetzal, Prolocutor.
</blockquote>
As Silk refolded the letter, Shell said, 'His Cognizance has come
down completely on your side, you see, and brought the Chapter
with him. You said--I hope you were mistaken in this, Patera, really
I do. But you said a minute ago that if the Ayuntamiento knew you
were here they'd have you shot. If that's true--' He cleared his
throat nervously. 'If it's true, they'll have His Cognizance shot too.
And--and some of the rest of us.'
'The coadjutor,' Silk said, 'he drafted this. He'll die as well, if
they can get their hands on him.' It was strange to think of Remora,
that circumspect diplomatist, tangled and dead in his own web of
ink.
Of Remora dying for him.
'I suppose so, Patera.' Shell hesitated, plainly ill at ease. 'I'd call
