Schisms Read online

Chapter Twelve

  Shishak waited patiently in his study while the evening sun sank down behind thin, blood red clouds. The call to Night Prayers had sounded not too long ago. He ignored it, for this night he had special business. Jhis was more crowded than usual with satraps and vassals and all their retinues coming in and looking for lodgings. The most important were lodged right in the palace and the temple would be more than full of worshipers. He tapped his fingers absently to the sound of the lash. Below in the temple courtyard a man was being whipped. He had yet to hear from Bakku but he knew the new queen's family and her entourage were well on their way. Just a few days ago he had received a message by falcon from Bakku that they had just crossed back over the river. He got back to work and finished stamping his seal of approval on the letter Demos wrote up for him. The city was pregnant with anticipation – and threats of unrest. Not everyone was happy to see the king replace the queen with this new woman and some had been a little too outspoken for the taste of the high priest. The former queen, now the Most Honored Lady Diti, was still seen in some quarters as the true queen. That would have to change. The man outside had dared to reproach him and other priests and the council for supporting this new marriage. Shishak despised the low people and the Aishanna-La especially for their silly ideas about what was holy. Principles were fine for simple wretches with nothing to gain or live for, but the priesthood understood these things to be relative. The only thing not relative in Shishak's mind was every man's place. Every man had a place and the place of the common man as far as he was concerned, was to remain quiet. Besides, he had long distrusted Lady Diti the moment the usurping barbarian had decided to marry her. She had done nothing to support the Golden Temple and had long been a hindrance to those who supported it at court. He heard foot footfalls coming toward his chamber door. He lit another candle for extra light. A knock.

  “Come!” It was Teman, Demos and the arena master.

  “We have dredged up many fighters for the wedding celebrations, Shishak.” Said Teman proudly.

  “Dredged up? One hopes they are in good condition. How many? This will require a celebration of great proportions. The king stated before he left that he wanted a sea of blood spilled in the arena.”

  “Good sir, he will get his “sea of blood”. Not only do we have the usual seasoned fighters and volunteers but we have managed to procure many others for the lions and the dog fights. My men gleaned them from the taverns and inns, drunk, and a few off some merchant ships in Haiga.” Said the arena master.

  “Good, good, Amat! I have brought you here because I have a new crop for you, arena master.” The man had a strange gleam in his eye that Shishak found unsettling.

  “Do you?”

  “I do. There are many Aishanna-La here in the city who, suddenly, cannot pay the temple tax. The King's Guard will round up the men and the woman, young and old and any children and put them in the games.” The Arena master's eyes went wide with surprise.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Is this. . legal? What will the king say?” The man asked, hesitant. Shishak took up the letter with his own seal and what looked like the official seal of the king and waved it in his face, giving Teman a knowing glance. Amat squinted at it, muttering the contents to himself with difficulty. Teman turned to him.

  “As I told you before, you need not worry about the king. He has left the priesthood in complete charge of these sorts of internal temple matters, those dealing with the people of the Golden Temple, and he is in agreement with us on this matter. You have only to read the letter and see the king's seal on it.” Teman pointed to the letter. “Look, those who do not pay the temple tax are also many of those who do not pay the royal tax. You know the law. Those who refuse to pay the royal tax commit treason against the king and must be put to death. Among our own it is the same way with the temple tax. And you would do well to remember, tax evaders are rebels and are no friends to the people of Hec, who carry this city upon their backs.” Said Teman. Shishak nodded.

  “And besides, the captain of the King's Guard has already been made aware of the situation and is preparing to arrest them. If you will agree to hold them in the prisons and put them in the arenas, there will be a generous reward for you. You need not say anything about this nor will anyone besides us and the captain know of it.” Shishak lifted up a large, wooden box from under his desk and opened it. In it was a small fortune of gold and silver coins. The arena master's eyes glittered at seeing the money, nearly six years' worth of wages. Far more than he ever saw. He would be nearly as well off as the best arena fighters. He then looked from Teman to Demos and smiled. Shishak grinned.

  “We have a deal then?”

  “Looks official to me. What terms?”

  “I will send a message to you by falcon with the names of the families who are in violation. These monies are besides the payment for the dregs and the foreigners you managed to scrounge up from the inns and the docks looking for glory or gold. Find more if you can. I want them in the arenas for the wedding celebrations. Afterward, if there are no games scheduled after that, keep them in the prisons until the next round of games.”

  “What about goods? If they have valuables or houses. . .”

  “Any household goods and possessions, you and your men can keep if you can get them. You must see to that with the captain of the King's Guard. Divide it up between yourselves. But all the deeds to houses and businesses will be sent to the temple. The captain knows this already. Understood?” Amat nodded quickly.

  “Indeed, we have a deal.” He said.

  “Then, we are all agreed on this?”

  “We are all agreed.” Said all the men. Shishak closed the lid and pushed the box toward Amat who snatched it up into his arms.

  “Besides that, I shall pay you a gold coin for every extra man, a silver for every extra woman and a copper for every child you can manage to find on your own that is not on the list.” Amat started, thinking it over again.

  “It is not allowed to put children in the arenas.” He said, gazing intently at him through narrowed eyes. Shishak shrugged.

  “As to the lame, the old and children, throw them to the furnace. Or sell them to the slavers. I leave it to you.”

  “Fair enough. You Ainash must have great stores of gold.” Amat said, his voice thick and eager. Shishak smiled and said nothing. Amat took his booty and left. Teman closed the door and laughed. Demos sat down slowly.

  “Dealing with outsiders is hard work, my brothers. I wonder that God allows them to exist side by side with us.” Shishak said disdainfully. Teman shrugged and picked a black grape from a bowl and ate it.

  “It is a sin we are forced to commit every day. Why worry over it?” He said.

  “He allows nothing and everything.” Said Demos.

  “Ah, Demos! Very true, very true, son. Nothing for the gullible that still read the book without understanding and everything for those of us who have sense. We have everything we need and He has not shown any displeasure. Why should it matter as long as we have our temple and our positions? One day we will have the kingship as well.”

  “We may already have it, Teman. Bakku has the ear and the confidence of this new queen and her family. If we can bend her, and these Strabs are like us in many ways when it comes to dealing with womenfolk, we already have it. If not, we may find a way to get a third queen. One of the high priest's sisters as a wife, or perhaps even one of your sisters, Teman!” Said Shishak. Teman smiled.

  “Any of them would make him a fine wife and queen.” Said Demos quietly.

  “I am always one step ahead. Teman, have the wretch in the courtyard thrown in prison.” Teman got up and left. The sound of strokes had finally stopped and there was only the sound of the intoning hum of prayers and the late evening noises of the city. Shishak felt satisfied. The most important business of the day had just ended. It would be the grandest celebration the city had ever seen.

  Demos said his goodbyes to his elders and w
ent late to Night Prayers in the Courtyard of Sacrifice. This time he went through the motions as his mind was burning with the agonizing task he had - the letter he had to forge. Shishak came to his cell earlier than day with a forged signet seal of the king and dictated the letter. His ears burned as he wrote it down and now he had to find a way to warn the people. After Night Prayers, Demos went quickly back to his cell, walking briskly while in the courtyard and then running as fast as he could once he'd reached the second staircase. The halls were dark with the exception of a few torches casting long shadows. He took a candle, lit it and set it down on the desk, his hands trembling. Demos rummaged through his papers in a near panic, nearly toppling over his ivory box of tools. He'd made copies of the tax ledgers after they had raised the tax, wondering what evil they were up to this time. Now he knew. He swept up a swirling storm of papers until he found the ledgers. All of the names of the families who could not pay the new tax and how many months these families were in arrears. There were so many. Demos's heart dropped. How would he get to them before the King's Guard? There were five long pages. He carefully rolled them up and stuffed them in a side pocket in his robe, went downstairs and allowed himself to be pulled in by the swell of the crowds leaving the main courtyard. Sure that no one noticed him he broke away and turned left down a narrow street, lost to sight in the deepening dusk. The moons, like the milk-colored eyes of a blind snake were low on the horizon. He imagined grimly that he was being watched by some sky demon who stalked his movements and worked to foil him. He had to get to Eliaz as quickly as possible. It had all come so suddenly and then he was obliged to join Teman, the Father Scribe of the temple, in this meeting. But he now knew that it was the will of someone unseen that he be there to witness it and for that he was glad, though he barely had time to think of what to do. He fled down the street until he could turn a corner and found himself in a smaller, familiar looking enclave, away from the noise of the crowds. Eliaz did not live far from the temple, thankfully. When he finally saw Eliaz's house he sighed in relief. Looking around carefully, he listened for footsteps beside his own. He stood, listening for what seemed an age. Nothing. The street was quiet, save for the soft laughter of a woman in one of the houses across the street. He strode up as if he belonged there and knocked. He knocked again, this time more urgently. The lantern hanging by the front door bobbed gently in the breeze, the flame flickering precariously.

  “It is late. Who is at the door?” Rasped a voice from the balcony. Demos stepped back and looked up. He made a show of being on official business.

  “Master, you have forgotten something at the temple! I have brought it for you. May I come in? It is I, your scribal student!” He did not want to reveal too much. Ears were everywhere these days and especially at night. The old man peered down from his balcony.

  “Please, Master!” Demos insisted. Eliaz frowned but consented.

  “I shall come down.” After some time Demos heard Eliaz come to the door. He opened it and Demos slipped in.

  “Demos! I know you would not have come if this was not important.” Eliaz shut the door firmly behind him.

  “No, I would not! Master! Shishak and Teman are planning something most foul! You know the temple tax was raised some months ago?”

  “Of course.”

  “Shishak came to me today and had me write a letter for him. A forgery.”

  “Not unusual from Shishak.”

  “But listen! He wrote a letter supposedly from the king and he had a forged seal that he put upon it. It looks exactly like the one the king gave to Bakku. I know it is not the real one because I saw Bakku leave the city and he was wearing it on his finger. In this letter, it gives the captain of the King's Guard the authority to arrest those who cannot pay the temple tax and throw them into the arenas for execution!” Demos spit out in a panic. Even in the dim candle light he could see Eliaz's face turn as white as bleached paper. He stumbled and Demos had to catch him and help him sit down.

  “Oh Lord in the heavens! Do you mean he had this letter sent out today?”

  “I do not know when he will send it but I am sure it will be within the week, before the king arrives! They also bribed the captain of the King's Guard, from what I learned and then brought the arena master to the temple this night and payed him a small fortune in gold and silver to put them in the arena prisons!” Demos sat down, waiting on Eliaz for some instruction. Eliaz put his head in his hands.

  “Of all the faithful not allowed in, they would bring an outsider into the temple of God! And now this treachery! Demos, my son, for the first time I am not sure what to do. It would seem we have been outsmarted!” Eliaz mourned. He looked stricken.

  “Do they know about us, Master? They. . .” Demos started but Eliaz shook his head. Demos pulled out the papers from his robe.

  “I have made copies of all the families, the names of the people to be thrown to the lions or the dogs in the arenas. Men, women and children, old and young, it does not matter. It will be for the entertainment for the new wedding celebration. Master Eliaz, we must do something and soon!” Demos pleaded. Eliaz suddenly sat up.

  “Demos! You are young! Do you know some of them? Some of these people, where they live?”

  “Only a few.”

  “Go to them, Demos, now! Tell them of this. Now that I think on it, I know of someone that might be able to help. It will be very dangerous but there is hope. We shall see.”

  “Your falcon, Master! Can you use him?”

  “It will attract attention. I shall use a different messenger. Go and do what you can!” He gave Demos a hooded black cloak to hide his face. Demos left immediately to alert the few families he knew personally, hoping this rescue effort would stay under cover of darkness. He also hoped he would not encounter patrolling city guards.

  Eliaz said a prayer, weeping profusely, then he steeled himself. If only Ilim were here, but he had to find his own courage. He could not hide behind Ilim's skirts any longer. Not if he would save these people from certain death. It was for this reason, he told himself, that I stayed with the temple. Even through all the excesses and evil doings of the priesthood. Not just because he was afraid to leave the comfort and familiarity of the community but because he had to save the Aishanna-La from their own priesthood. Wolves! Besides, where else could a man go if not the Golden Temple? If a man were cast out of the temple like Ilim. . . he shuddered to think of such a desperate existence. Eliaz ambled over to his writing desk and took out a reed pen, a bottle of ink, some water and a roll of paper. He also took out a small, gold metal bird with gold-laced wings and set it carefully on the desk before him.

  “You must fly, my little forbidden friend.” The new woman had not yet arrived. There was still the true queen, though she was now officially deposed, who still held some sway among the people, if not at court. He would appeal to her.