Rocalla's Saga: Arrival

9: The Clergy House and Mariyiybha’s Home ‑

1054 Riika 15

After showing us the washroom, and giving us some time to rest, Father Krohen leads us to the dining hall. We are given seats near the head of the table, next to the bishop. All of the men present at the table rise for our arrival. I curtsey gracefully and take my seat; Dierdra does her best to do the same.

After everyone is seated, the bishop offers a prayer. Not knowing Franhkallan well enough to follow, I offer my own silent prayer. There are a total of fourteen of us sitting at the table, twelve men, Dierdra, and myself.

“It seems that you will be our guests tonight,” says the bishop. “We don’t often have guests, and even more rarely do we have women visitors. But no one deserves to be imprisoned because they are late getting home.

“Do you speak Franhkallan, Miss Rastama?”

“No, your excellency,” I reply.

“Then we will hold our conversations in Gallish tonight, to accommodate you.

“I ask all of you not to speak of our discovery of Bishop Narvaan Kel’s remains to anyone outside of this room, until we have given the matter due consideration. That request would include you ladies as well. The discovery has possible implications, and certain political considerations, which require that we not jump to any quick actions.”

“I’m not sure who I would discuss it with anyway, your excellency,” I say.

We all start to eat, enjoying a meal of potato soup, bread, wine, and a side dish of spiced grain. The bread is hot, fresh from the oven, and delicious. The grain dish is also very tasty, heavily spiced with aromatic herbs, and the wine is excellent. My mind is full of questions, but I fear that it would be impolite to ask many of them, so I enjoy my meal silently. Most of the conversation is about local events, preparations for the coming winter, and the status of household tasks. As we are nearing the end of the meal, the topic of the dead bodies comes to the surface again.

“What are we going to do with our dear departed bishop’s remains, your excellency?” The question comes from a middle-aged priest that I have not met. “We are not going to let him just hang there, are we?”

Bishop Rul glares at the priest, looks at us, and then speaks, “Unfortunately, yes, for now we are. We need to determine who is responsible for his death. As soon as we can, we will move his body to a proper resting place.”

“And who do you think might be responsible, your excellency?” I ask. I cannot help my curiosity, although the bishop’s unwelcoming glance in my direction makes me regret my lack of reserve.

“We will need to complete our investigation, but my initial guess would be that the Circle Cultists are responsible.”

“And why do you think that, your excellency?” asks Father Hafhmar. The glance that he receives is even more severe than the one I got.

Bishop Rul turns to us to explain. “Just before Bishop Kel disappeared, he told us that he had made an important discovery. He did not give any details, but he hinted that wizardry was involved somehow. Unfortunately, he disappeared the next day. No one knew where he was until today. If he uncovered evidence against the Circle Cultists, it is likely that they would want to murder him so that his discoveries would not be made public.

“As for you, Miss Rastama, how long have you been living in Mandelbroggen?”

“A couple of months,” I say.

“And what do you think of our fine city?”

The conversation turns entirely to myself and Dierdra. It is clear that no further discussion of the dead is desired. We complete our meal pleasantly, and then we are shown a room that Dierdra and I may share for the night. It is a spare but functional chamber, with two bunk beds. Dierdra and I visit the library while the priests attend vespers. Once we are alone, I feel more comfortable speaking.

“That was an interesting meal,” Dierdra says.

“Yes, it was. A bit more tense than I would have liked. What do you think of the bishop’s explanation of the crime?”

“If the dead bishop had evidence against the Circle Cultists, it would make sense.”

“Only if the Circle Cultists are somehow involved with the Pyrusian Empire.”

“Why do you say that?” she asks.

“Because the passage is clearly connected to the castle.”

“That doesn’t mean that the killer entered or left that way. They may just have walled up the passage after the deed was done.”

“I am sure that they did,” I say.

“Maybe they put the bodies there to make it look like the Pyrusian Empire was involved,” Dierdra says.

“Perhaps, but I am also sure that someone from the castle would have discovered the bodies by now, regardless.”

“And if they had?” she asks.

“Why wouldn’t they have let anyone know, if they had no involvement themselves?”

“Oh, I see your point.”

The library is well stocked with a variety of books. While most are written in Franhkallan, many are in Gallish, and at least seven other languages are represented as well. Not surprisingly, I do not find a single volume written in Kopa Teidhwardadya.

After about an hour in the library, we retire to our rooms and get some sleep. We are treated to breakfast the next morning, and I spend several hours engaged in theological discussions with Father Krohen. He asks that we stay for lunch before departing, as he does not want the town guard to suspect that we have spent the night on the island. After a pleasant light lunch, we say our goodbyes and depart.

“So what do we do with what remains of the day?” Dierdra asks once we are walking away from the bridge that separates Castle Island from the rest of the city.

“When are the Circle Cultists next planning to meet?”

“Four nights from tonight.”

“I want to speak to Mariyiybha before then. Would you like to come with me?”

“It’s not my first choice, but I suppose it’s a good idea. Could it wait until after dinner? After standing and sitting around all day yesterday and half of today, I’d like to get some archery practice in while it is light out.”

“That sounds fine. I’ll go with you if you don’t mind. The fresh air will do me some good.”

“What about your knee?” she asks.

“It’ll be fine,” I say.

We return to The Happy Pilgrim to gather our weapons, then walk to an isolated wood beyond the port area. Along the way, Dierdra asks me about myself.

“So, you told the bishop that you were a priestess,” she says.

“That’s right, I am.”

“I’ve never met a woman priest. I didn’t know there was such a thing. Are you the same as a man priest? I mean, do you lead religious services, marry people, that sort of thing?”

“Yes, I can,” I say.

“But you don’t hang around a church all day, like they do.”

“I still spend time praying and meditating. I don’t lead formal services, because there is no Zariinyeida church here.”

“Are you going to start one?”

“If I thought there was a need for one and the people were receptive, I might. But for now, I have no plans.”

“Does it bother you that you have no congregation to lead, that you are not practicing your religion?” Dierdra asks.

“I’m still practicing it; I don’t need to be running a church to practice my faith and vocation. I guess that I’m more of an academic religious than a parish priestess. My goal is to learn about and understand other cultures, especially from a religious perspective. Our order tries to gather as much knowledge about Creation and the people in it as we can.”

“So you don’t go around trying to convert people to your way of thinking?”

“I teach by example,” I say. “If people like what they see, or are merely curious, I am happy to instruct them further in the ways of our faith. But I don’t go out of my way to proselytize. That’s more likely to lead to conflict than converts anyway.”

About a kilometer beyond the edge of the city, we come to a wooded area surrounding a babbling brook. Dierdra lays a large leaf on a mossy bank, and pulls her bow from its case. I have never seen one that looked like it. It is strangely bent, composed of wood overlaid with strips of horn on the inside and sinew laid along the back, all glued together and painted with crimson lacquer. The grip is stiffened with three ivory laths wrapped in fine leather. Despite what looks like an awkward construction to me, Dierdra quickly strings it with a quick motion, then takes fifty steps, turns and immediately unleashes an arrow. It lands an arm’s length wide to the right. A second shot, more carefully aimed, pierces the center of the leaf.

“That’s better,” Dierdra says.

“That’s great,” I say. “I can barely see the leaf from here, and you hit it perfectly.”

Dierdra takes a third shot. This one just misses the target to the left. “Plejsta,” Dierdra mutters.

“What’s wrong with that?” I ask. “You can’t have missed it by more than the width of my finger.”

“A finger’s width is too much,” Dierdra says. “A miss is a miss.”

“It just means you take another shot.”

“You may not have another shot.”

She lets fly another three arrows, then walks over to the bank to collect them. Three of the six are in the target, two others have just missed their mark. “I’m out of practice,” Dierdra says. “Five weeks of harvesting grass didn’t leave me much time to work on my archery skills.” She removes the target leaf and replaces it with another, slightly smaller one. Then we return to the spot where she takes another six shots in quick succession.

When she is done, we return to the moss bank to see that five arrows have entered the target. “Not good enough,” Dierdra says.

“Five out of six hit and the last didn’t miss by much. You’re too hard on yourself,” I say.

“It’s still a miss, and a miss can mean the difference between eating well or going hungry that night. In the most extreme case, a miss can mean the difference between life and death.” She removes the shredded leaf and replaces it with one half the size of the first.

We spend close to two hours there. Dierdra constantly challenges herself, taking shots without hesitation, even turning and shooting on the fly. I am amazed by her accuracy and persistence. Near the end of her practice session, the shots start to go wild. Breathing heavily and rotating her shoulder, she rests only briefly before shooting another two dozen arrows.

“That’s enough,” she says. “I’m getting tired. I’ll have to come back again tomorrow.”

“I think you did great,” I say.

“I can do better.”

We return for an early dinner, then start our walk to Mariyiybha’s dwelling just as the sun is setting.

Dierdra has never been to Mariyiybha’s home, and she seems amused by the place. It is a small single floored structure inside the city wall on the southeast side of town. There are stacks of books, papers, and journals everywhere, and it is difficult to walk around without bumping into something. Mariyiybha welcomes us, clears a spot for us to sit down at her small table, and serves us tea.

“It is very nice that you could join Rocalla on this visit,” Mariyiybha says.

“Thank you,” says Dierdra, “although I feel awkward making you both speak Gallish instead of Kopa Teidhwardadya.”

“Well, you are also speaking Gallish, instead of your native Franhkallan, so I don’t think it is unreasonable to expect us to do the same. What news do you bring today, Rocalla? Or would Dierdra like to discuss something?”

“Actually, I would like to know what you can tell us about Bishop Narvaan Kel.” Dierdra flashes me a quick, worried glance.

“Narvaan Kel was the Bishop of Mandelbroggen before Genhgën Rul. In fact, he was bishop when I arrived here. He was a very good man, as far as I could tell. The people liked and respected him. And he was always out in the city, amongst the people, talking to them and keeping track of what was going on. He was very different from Genhgën Rul in that way.

“I got to speak with him on many occasions. It was always a pleasure. An intelligent and insightful man, he and I had many interesting discussions.”

“What about his disappearance?”

Mariyiybha looks at me, her interest piqued. “You learn your local history quickly. Narvaan Kel disappeared about twelve years ago. That was a very strange time. In the month or two before his disappearance, he seemed troubled. He was deeply reflective, and was not as outgoing as before. I wanted to know what was bothering him, but I only had a few brief meetings with him during that time, out in the city. And then, a week later, he was gone.”

“What was the explanation?” Dierdra again gives me a sharp, warning glance, but doesn’t say a word.

“The explanation from the Imperial Governor was that Bishop Narvaan Kel was involved in dealings with wizardry and magic, and had fled Mandelbroggen because he had been discovered and was about to be arrested.”

I pause a moment to reflect on that. “What was the response from the church?”

“There were denials, of course, and a lot of confusion. Narvaan Kel was a great leader, but he had not prepared anyone to take his place. The priests of the church weren’t ready to deal with his sudden disappearance.”

“So Genhgën Rul assumed the office of bishop then?”

“Not immediately. As I said, no one was prepared for this, and there was confusion. Also, accusing the church’s most admired leader of wizardry and magic had a devastating effect on the population of Mandelbroggen. Until Narvaan Kel’s disappearance, the people were absolutely certain of the authority of the church. They hated and despised the Imperial Governor and his occupying force. But when Narvaan Kel vanished, there was a vacuum of authority, and the Imperial Governor rushed to fill it.”

“Was there trouble?”

“Not as much as you might imagine. A few crowds took to the streets, defending Narvaan Kel. But the governor sent out additional town guardsmen to keep order, and most folks just continued their lives in disbelief.”

I sit there in silence for a few minutes to take this in.

“I never knew any of this,” says Dierdra. “It all happened when I was quite young, and we lived a long way outside of the city. I only remember a time of uncertainty and disturbance around then.”

The room fills with the soothing aroma of mint as Mariyiybha gets us some more tea. She continues, “You haven’t asked me what I think became of Narvaan Kel.”

“That’s because I know where he is,” I say.

“Rocalla!” objects Dierdra.

“It’s all right, Dierdra, we can trust Mariyiybha.”

“But we promised the bishop!”

“No, we were asked by the bishop. I never explicitly agreed, and if I remember correctly, neither did you. In any case, Mariyiybha, what I want to tell you must be kept in confidence. If you share this information with anyone, Bishop Rul and the priests of the church will know where you got it from. It will not be good for us if that happens.”

“I understand,” says Mariyiybha. “Whatever you have to tell me I will not discuss with anyone else. If I write anything, it will be in Kopa Teidhwardadya, and I will only do that if I need to get a message to you and cannot come myself.”

“Is that okay with you, Dierdra?” I ask.

“I suppose so. It just seems weird, the way we are deceiving the bishop of all people.”

“I understand your concern. But I agree with the bishop when he says that this may have severe implications. And I don’t expect that he is going to consult us further on the matter.”

“I’m okay with it,” Dierdra says.

I turn and face Mariyiybha. “We found a skeleton in an underground passage between the cathedral and the castle. Bishop Rul identified the remains as belonging to Narvaan Kel.”

“Interesting. The cathedral and castle are connected?”

“More or less. The skeleton was chained to the wall by its wrists.”

“Then I assume that he was murdered.”

“Yes. We also found a second skeleton lying in the corridor, closer to the castle.” I give Mariyiybha the rest of the details that we know.

“What is the church’s reaction to all of this?” she asks.

“Bishop Rul asked everyone to keep it quiet until their investigation is complete. His first inclination is to blame the Circle Cultists for the murder.”

“I see. And what do you think?”

“I don’t know. But I find it difficult to believe that the imperial government is not involved.”

“While I am not nearly as fond of Bishop Rul as I was of Narvaan Kel, I know that he is no idiot. I am sure that he has the same suspicions. But he needs to be careful how he acts on them.”

“Would he go so far as to hide the truth?” Dierdra asks. “Even hide the body perhaps?”

“I doubt it,” says Mariyiybha. “But he will attempt to find a way to reveal the death in such a way that it increases the authority and standing of the church, without pushing the Imperial Governor so far that it becomes dangerous.”

We finish our second cup of tea, and graciously decline Mariyiybha’s offer of a third.

“So what are you going to do now?” asks Mariyiybha.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Remember our first meeting? The advice that I offered?”

“That if I remain a neutral observer, and do not involve myself in the affairs of society, I can do no harm and will not be harmed. Nor can I do any good, and I will have no effect on the passage of history. I will be only an observer, not a participant.”

“‘And when you pass away, the sum total of your life will vanish with the morning fog.’ You remember. You have a decision to make.”

“I don’t think that I am ready to make that decision yet.”

“You may not have the luxury of lots of time to decide,” Mariyiybha says.

“I know. You also said that this was your great regret. Do you mean that you wish that you had taken a more active role in events?” I ask.

“Something like that.”

“Well, Mariyiybha, I will think carefully on that. Thank you for your hospitality. Thank you for the tea, the history lesson, and the advice. You are a trusted friend.”

“As are you, Rocalla, and you, Dierdra. Go in peace.”

With that we take our leave and return to The Happy Pilgrim. The dark streets of the night seem more menacing than they did a few days before. On the way back, Dierdra is quieter than usual.

“Was it necessary to tell Mariyiybha about the body?” she asks.

“It didn’t hurt to get her opinion of the situation. She has been in Mandelbroggen longer than either of us.”

“I wish that you had discussed it with me first.”

“Why? She isn’t going to tell anyone,” I say.

“Maybe she won’t, but that is not what bothers me. We made the discovery, and we’re in this together, and I wish that you would have discussed it with me first before blurting it out.”

“Do you disagree with what I did?” I ask.

“No.”

We walk on in silence for another couple of minutes.

“It would have been better to talk to you about it first,” I say. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better next time.”

“I don’t mean to cause trouble,” says Dierdra.

“You didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

The streets are just as dark, and our future is quite uncertain.