'Well, it says Tormond admits the Brothen Patriarch has a say in our affairs. That sets a bad precedent all by itself. Also, it diminishes the Patriarch at Viscesment. And he's the legal Patriarch. Right?'
Brother Candle said, 'Diminishing that man isn't hard to do. How many of you — by show of hands — know who the anti-Patriarch is? See. Immaculate the Second, Brothers and Sisters. Those of you who do know most likely do because somebody tried to kill him last spring.'
'Pathetic,' Raulet said.
'Yes,' Brother Candle agreed. 'And he's supposed to be our Patriarch. The Patriarch who represents all Chaldareans. Arianist, Antast, Episcopal, Eastern Rite, Shaker, or Maysalean.' Most Maysaleans did consider themselves good Chaldareans, in the Antast mode. 'He's the Patriarch who's supposed to stop the Five Families of Brothe from treating the Church as their own private pot at the end of the rainbow.'
'The thing I don't understand,' Madame Archimbault said, 'is why the Duke would do this despite his advisers. That doesn't make sense.' Among Seekers After Light, women stood equal to men, with a full right to speak and question. 'They must have explained everything to him.'
Brother Candle nodded. 'Absolutely. Over and over. I was there once when Tormond heard it all, point by point. He said he understood. But, as all of you who have raised children know, you can't make someone hear what he doesn't want to hear.'
Scarre the Baker, asked, 'Could he have been stricken mad?'
A little voice piped, 'It must be the Night.'
Raulet offered, 'Or Sublime's god touched him. Maybe the Brothen Episcopal god agrees with Sublime about us.' Raulet was trying to make a joke but everybody took him seriously.
Brother Candle said, 'I ought to get together with Bishop LeCroes and see what he thinks.'
'Unbelievable,' someone muttered.
Madame Archimbault inquired, 'Will the men around Tormond interfere? Brother, you've said Brothe has no friends in Tormond's court.'
'Not many, no. But Tormond's men are loyal and honorable. They'll do what they're told once they know they can't change his mind.'
Someone said, 'What will Count Raymone do?'
'A critical question,' Brother Candle replied. 'And one only Raymone Garete can answer. He doesn't hide his disgust.'
Madame Archimbault observed, 'Raymone is young. The young praise action for its own sake.'
The Maysalean Heresy appealed mainly to those who had left youth's distractions behind.
Brother Candle accepted wine from his host's daughter, Kedle, who was thrilled to be auditing the meeting. She was thirteen, a woman by some standards, but would never speak up while a Perfect was present.
Seekers After Light were convinced they were true Chaldareans. They claimed their teachings harkened back to those of Aaron, Eis, Lalitha, and the other Founders, before those became twisted and perverted by the successors of Josephus Alegiant and his clique. The god of the Arianists, and of the Episcopals who came after them, was actually the Great Adversary reproached by the Founders.
The Great Adversary had wrought a thousand deceptions while hiding amongst the Instrumentalities of the Night. It was impossible to untangle the skein of lies. Because there was always another lie in line.
Brother Candle relaxed and observed as the discussion drifted to reincarnation, which had leaked into the Maysalean Creed despite being an oriental concept.
The group wanted to examine the moral implications of reincarnation. Some thought rebirth gave you an out if you behaved badly. You could do your next incarnation as a makeup.
Brother Candle had not yet worked out where he stood regarding reincarnation. He found the idea comforting. Reincarnation meant a second chance to get life right. It was the Great Wheel of Life.
Someone wanted his attention. 'Yes?'
Madame Scarre asked if he believed Seekers After Light were obliged to fight back if attacked.
'Absolutely. It's one more way to resist evil. If we don't fight evil we become accessories to evil.'
Nothing but hurried breathing sounded in the Archimbault household. A great Maysalean mind was about to share a thought.
Brother Candle disappointed everyone. 'That's it. That's the truth. The lines are never clear. There is no absolute right. There is absolute wrong but it's hard to identify. It manages to adopt a great many disguises.'
Scarre the Baker asked, 'What do you mean, Brother?'
He began to preach. 'We are slaves to reason. Reason exterminates every argument our enemies throw up. Righteousness slides through their fingers like water. All they have left in hand is emotion. Our weakness is, we don't recognize it when dreams and emotion guide us. So we're as much victims of the Instrumentalities of the Night as those we disdain for being less thoughtful.'
Brother Candle was afraid he had failed to express himself in a way the others could understand. Not even he was equipped to comprehend the full nature of mankind's relationship with the Instrumentalities of the Night.
Despite a moral code being part of every religion, with innumerable admonitions to do good put into the mouths of the gods, Brother Candle had yet to see any direct evidence that the Instrumentalities of the Night, at any level, demonstrated any innate moral polarity. Like earth, wind, water, and fire, they just were. And, like life itself, they wanted.
Good and evil were concepts imposed by men, through their perceptions and beliefs, or directly by force of sorcery.
Brother Candle found it difficult to be a spiritual adviser and guide in a world where there were few absolutes to serve as navigational beacons when he charted his own course.
He said, 'If we Seekers After Light disappear from the grand pageant of history it won't be because logic and persuasion overwhelmed us. It will be because a superior weight of arms and terror were deployed.'
Brother Candle dreaded any future that had roots sunk into the ordure of Duke Tormond's incredible decision to try dealing with Sublime V. The Brothen Patriarch was not a man like him, simple and moved by goodwill toward all.
Perhaps Honario Benedocto was a cosmic prank being played by the Instrumentalities of the Night. Some old religions declared their gods capable of far worse, just for the amusement to be gained by kicking the anthill.
21. Brothe, in the Gathering of the War
Brothe was in a ferment. Neither a Patriarchal nor a Collegium delegation came out to greet Principatй Doneto. Sublime's limited forces were desperately trying to keep order, busy as a three-legged cat in a room full of mice.
The Five Families hurled accusations and pointed fingers. Their young men found excuses to duel. Every duelist who came in second added fuel to the emotional holocaust The law forbid family forces larger than a personal guard. In the past they had shown themselves unable to refrain from throwing swords at every little problem. Now they sought ways to get around the law.
The Brotherhood of War was mad at everybody.
Word of the troubles, with mystic swiftness, reached the Calziran pirates. A small fleet tried to come up the Teragi River but was driven back by the Collegium.
Then there was the Brothen mob, which had behaved itself for far too long. Riots and looting broke out most every day. Luckily, the civil disorders remained small and localized.
The Devedian and Dainshaukin minorities, working together, resisted the madness. Though they did incense the Episcopal mob by kicking the snot out of would-be looters.
Their situation never grew as bad as had that of the Deves of Sonsa.
The worst was over by the time Bronte Doneto's band reached the city. Today's Brothens couldn't live up to the standards of bad behavior shown by their forbears.
The party's passage through the streets was uncomfortable, though the day itself was clear, cool, and crisp and recent heavy rains had swept away most of the offal usually lending piquancy to the city air. Doneto moved as fast as he could. He wanted to be off the streets before his return became common knowledge.
