The Balance Ch. 25-26

"Well," said the king, rubbing his hands together, "I think that about wraps things up. If the High Priestess and Priest would like to join me in the royal quarters with our new-found friends, I think..."

"Your Majesty?" interrupted a voice.

"Yes, what is it, Ariana?" the king asked impatiently. "What else do we have to deal with? An invasion of unicorns? Is the Great Sultan waiting at the Gate of Dawn?"

"I think," Ariana said carefully, as a high, musical note, aching in its purity, sounded in the room, "that you will want to see this."

A beam of light came blazing down through the high windows. Where it met the earth, twelve figures stood. They were human-sized, human-shaped, but there was a sense that within them was a power sufficient to move mountains or to cause rivers to boil.

As one, the guests in the audience chamber dropped to their knees, prostrating themselves before the twelve incarnations of the Deity. Remaining on their feet were the royal family and the clergy, Angela and Paul, blinking in confusion, and one atheist guardsman.

The royal family walked slowly forward. They stood before the Deity, then made their obeisance in unison, Benedictos and Alan bowing low, Cassieopeia and Hannah curtsying deeply. Beside them, Abiron and Ariana knelt, but kept their heads high, glorying in the honor which had been given to them.

Angela felt Paul come to her side. Her hand reached out and clasped his. "What do we do?" he whispered.

"Damned if I know," she answered him. She fought off an insane urge to laugh. "Be polite, I guess. I don't want to offend another god today."

"It's all a lot of nonsense," she heard Sean mutter from behind them, but he sounded unsure, as if even his bedrock-firm disbelief was undergoing a seismic shift. "They do it all with mirrors."

In front of them, the Deity was exchanging soft words with the royal family, and with Ariana and Abiron, who had now stood. Various incarnations spoke with each in turn, though they were too far away for them to make out the words. After a long moment, the royals and the priests turned to look at Paul and Angela. Hand in hand they walked forward, footfalls slow and firm, Sean a steady presence behind their shoulders.

Angela looked at the Deity. Six male, Six female. From her time with Abiron she knew them all. Graybeard and Crone. Mother and Father. Warrior and Huntress. Wanton and Lover. Youth and Maiden. Lass and Lad. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. The Maiden looked an awful like the quiet maid from her chambers. And wasn't the Lad the same boy who had helped draw the pairings the day the contest began?

The Wanton walked forward. Angela's breath caught as the edge of Her divine sensuality brushed by her. She stopped in front of Paul. Her lips curled in a smile over delicate white teeth, Her eyes hot with lust.

"You served my handmaiden well, gentle brother, and you have acted with great courage this day," She said, and her voice was the deep purr of a satisfied cat. "What reward will you have of Us?"

Paul bowed low and cleared his throat. "I ask for no reward beyond that which I have already asked. It is enough to be allowed to undergo training as Your priest." A look of hope entered his eyes. "My Lady, I never knew who my parents were. It has long been my wish to know the truth. Are they alive? Why did they give me up?" His eyes misted. "Do they think of me?"

The Wanton nodded, her eyes dark. "Our powers do not reach far beyond the borders of Our land. However, We will make inquiries."

Paul nodded his thanks. Suddenly, he frowned. "I hope my actions won't cause You...difficulty? I have never met a divine being, and am curious to know what happens when a priest of one faith abandons it for another."

The Wanton laughed, her voice music, "Your former master has many servants. Too many, I have long thought. Perhaps the events of this day will teach him a measure of humility. Do not fear on Our part, little brother. We can hold Our own." She strutted back into line, pausing only to drop a kiss onto the mouth of the Lover.

A few paces down, the Father came forward. He stopped in front of Angela, face stern.

"Tell, me, daughter. If Paul had not declared his faith, what would you have done? Would you have abandoned us to Lambert, or would you have risked all for a faith which you do not share?"

Angela raised her chin and looked the Deity in His eyes. "I do not know. I knew that Lambert was a monster. I knew that if I denied You, I might be consigning Your country to a terrible fate. But I was afraid. And I think, my Lord, if I may say so without offending, that You were far more able to protect Yourself than I was."

The Father smiled, "An honest answer, and a good one. Paul is staying here to undergo instruction and to become Our priest. What will you do, Sister? Is that your desire as well?"

Angela looked at Abiron. He was gazing at her, his heart in his eyes.

She shook her head, and watched his heart break. She turned back to the Father.

"My Lord, I have had my faith shattered once, years ago in another land. I think it is now beginning to heal. But I cannot force it. I need time. If His Majesty will give me leave, I would like to see his country and determine for myself if this is a place I wish to stay, and if becoming Your priestess is the right choice for me."

The Father nodded, His eyes so loving that Angela wished she was a little girl, just so she could sit in His lap. He snapped His fingers, and a staff appeared in His hand.

"Hey, that's mine!" came a querulous voice from behind him.

"Pipe down, Granddad," said the Father. "You can make another one." He passed the staff to Angela. "A staff is a help on the road. We cannot guarantee that you will be always left unmolested. This will aid you should you ever have need."

Angela hefted the staff. It was sturdy, but not too heavy, and shod at each end with iron. It fit her hand as if it had carved for her personally. She bowed her head in thanks.

Lastly, the Maiden came forward. She paused to wink at Angela, and she blushed scarlet. Her voice was cool and clear as she spoke to Sean.

"Guardsman, you saved the life of Our daughter today. Without your swift thought, this day still may have ended in tragedy. What gift will you have of your Deity? We have determined that the High Priestess and High Priest will take up residence in the Great Temple. If you wish, you may be head of their Guard."

Sean scowled. "I don't believe in Gods. Or Deities. And even if I did, you're not my God." The room gasped at his audacity.

The Maiden smiled a tiny smile. Stepping forward, she cradled his injured hand, clever fingers picking at the knots Paul had made. "Silly man. Do you really think you have a choice?" The pieces of cloth fell to the floor. Paul stared. Sean's gnarled fingers were straight and clean, with no evidence of past injury. Wondering, Sean flexed his hands.

"Awww, dammit," he said. "Twelve years of atheism, shot to hell.

"Right then," he said to the Maiden, arms crossed and feet wide-spread. "I have two requests. First," he jerked his head to the back of the room, where Kris stood slack-jawed and staring, watching his best friend talk back to a divine being. "My buddy Kris there needs an annulment from Rome. He is sweet on a lady here in town, but can't get married on account of he did it once already back in his home country. I want him to have the money to buy his annulment."

"What did he say?" came a voice from the back.

The Maiden grinned at Sean, completely unfazed by his tone, "Done."

"Second, I want to go with the lass here when she leaves. Your man there said himself that she might not be safe. No sense in saving her life here if some bastard cuts her throat for her coin three weeks from now. The Lady Angela needs a keeper. Do that," he said, blue eyes grim, "and I'll be your Captain when I get back."

The Maiden nodded again, face serious, "And done again, Sean Dealrach." She drew near him, and her lips traced a kiss, pure and chaste, on the corner of his mouth.

And then They were gone.

Chapter 26

An hour later, the nine of them were in the royal chambers. Abiron looked at the faces around him. They all bore some indication of the momentous events of the morning. Only Princess Hannah seemed immune to the cataclysmic shift in their fortunes. She was talking softly to Paul on one of the couches. Nearby, dressed warmly and with a heavy cloak thrown over one arm, Angela sat stiffly in a chair. Sean stood uncomfortably behind her, bags containing their clothing and other items in an untidy heap near the door. Prince Alan walked restlessly from one spot to the next, eating an apple which he had filched from a gilded bowl. The king and queen were seated together on a well-worn love-seat. The king was murmuring softly to Cassieopeia, who was shaking from the aftereffects of the stress of the morning. In front of the fireplace, where a small blaze glowed, Abiron could hear his mother muttering dire imprecations as she worked herself into a state of fury he had not seen in years.

"By the Father's Hands. By the Lass' Smile. By the Lover's Balls. By the Wanton's Tits. By all the demons of the Seven Hells!" She strode to Paul where he sat and grabbed him by his robe. Punctuating each word with a shake as her voice rose to a shout, she yelled, "Why the FUCK didn't you tell me what you were doing, you stupid, arrogant, GORGEOUS man?" She looked for an instant like she was going to strike him, but then flung up her hands. "By the Graybeard's...Beard! I am so torn between happiness and rage, that if I do not explode, it should be counted a marvel!"

"You speak for me, also, my Lady Priestess," said Cassiopeia. She looked at Paul darkly. "Despite his actions on this day, I am still not convinced he is our friend. Why should we trust one who so obviously does not trust us?"

Paul rose and bowed. "I beg your pardon, my lady High Priestess, and yours, Your Majesty. I did not seek to deceive you because I wanted to do so. I sought to protect you from those who wished you ill."

He smiled crookedly. "One ancient philosopher, when commenting on the perils of statecraft, said, "Three can keep a secret, if two are dead." As the others smiled, he continued, "During my visit to the temple with Ariana," and here he blushed deeply, "I came to the realization that the only way to protect you would be to keep you ignorant. I had no idea of whom among your close advisers may have been corrupted by Titus. If you had confided in one of them there is no telling what lengths they may have gone to.

"And even if that did not come to pass, I feared lest you betray your growing confidence to Lambert. If he suspected that either Sister Angela or myself was to come down on your side, he would have tried to remove us. Think on what he threatened Sister Angela with. And that was when he believed she was his ally."

"Sister Angela no longer, Paul. You can address me by my given name from now on."

Paul nodded. "My best hope was to keep the four of us who knew about the spy protected. Keep Lambert off balance by my sudden demand for an immediate audience and the end of the contest, and then produce the spy when I denounced Lambert publicly.

"Although I will say that I was more than a bit surprised when Captain...Diogenes, wasn't it? When the Captain showed up with Lambert's records. And when the other guardsman came in with Kris. I guess you spent some time trying to figure out what I was up to."

"A long night," said the queen. "It was Hannah who took the first steps down that path. Otherwise, I think you may have caught us all by surprise. As it was, I don't think any of us were expecting you come over to us entirely. The best we expected was that you would expose Lambert, produce the spy, and help us somehow stave off an invasion."

Paul smiled. "At least part of my plan came about, then."

"Did it ever! Boy, if Ariana decides you aren't fit for the priesthood, come and see me. I know some playwrights in town who would love to have an actor of your quality. And that voice! You sounded as if you were casting a sinner into the Outer Darkness! I wouldn't be surprised if right now there aren't a dozen ink-stained wretches who are writing The Saga of Paul and Angela," said the prince. He grinned at Paul and seemed to have put his earlier anger behind him.

"Well, what now, my friends? By the grace of the Deity, we are told that Ariana and Abiron will take up residence in the Great Temple, the better to serve and advise us in the days ahead. What of Paul and Angela? You had words with the Deity, did you not? Will you join them in the Temple?"

Paul nodded. "I have received permission of the Deity to receive instruction as Her priest." he said. "I hope that High Priestess Ariana and High Priest Abiron will undertake my teaching."

Alan smiled. "Good. Perhaps we can meet again soon, and you can explain the animosity that led you to destroy my undertunic, which I had lent to you out of the charity of my heart." He put on an aggrieved face. "Surely our hospitality has not been so ill as to deserve that?"

Paul smiled. "Indeed it has not. But necessity existed, and no other way lay before me. I thought that I would need an honest guard with two functioning hands. And the only way to guarantee that was to bind Sean's fingers. And the only way to do that was with cloth from your clothes. I apologize for the damage done. With the first monies I earn from my new position as a priest of the Deity, I will make good the damage."

"Speaking of money," the king frowned. "Lady Angela, is it still your purpose to travel throughout Heklos to learn more about us and our people, as we heard you tell the Deity?"

"It is," said Angela. "Sean will accompany me."

"And I," said Abiron, stepping forward.

Angela gazed at him, her eyes steady. "Like hell you will."

"Angela, please!" said Abiron, his voice unsteady. "I love you. I do not wish to be parted from you. And if you have to go on this mad journey, at least allow me to travel with you and keep you safe!" Nearby, Ariana's face was expressionless.

"I think not." When Abiron drew in breath to protest further, she raised her hand. "Abiron, I love you as well. But what I told the Deity is true. I have had my faith broken once already. I will not risk it again unless I see that the cause I bind it to is a worthy one. Can I do that honestly when I have a lover beside me, explaining this, excusing that, and hiding from me what he would rather I do not see? Would you hide the truth from me, only to have me doubly enraged when I find out not all is as you say it is? No. I will learn on my own. I take Sean with me because I need protection. But I deem he will advise me honestly in the days ahead. At the very least," she said with a tiny smile, "he does not have a long history of faith and will offer his true opinions. He does not seem to...filter them."

She got up and laid a hand on his cheek, caressing his beloved face. When she removed it, her fingers were wet with his tears.

"Do not fret so, my love. If this land is all you have told me it is, I will be by your side anon."

The king nodded and addressed Abiron, "Have done, lad. She has made up her mind. Push her any more and she'll probably smack you one." He frowned at Angela. "How do you mean to travel?"

Angela gestured at the pile of bags and clothes, topped by the staff the Deity had given her. "Even as you see us."

"On foot? In winter?" A flush touched Angela's pale face. "Deity save me from fools," the king muttered. Rising, he walked into the chambers he shared with the queen. When he emerged, he held a small leather sack, strangely heavy for its size. He tossed it to Angela. She caught it, feeling the clink of metal in her palm.

"Buy a donkey, at least. Horses if you can. But on foot, in this season, you won't make five miles a day. If you get off the main roads you'll be hip-deep in mud. A donkey or a mule for your luggage will allow you to make at least ten. And for the love of the Deity, stay at inns if you can."

"Or at temples." Ariana's voice was cool but kind. She handed each of them a leather cord. Threaded onto them were copper disks emblazoned with the sunburst of the Deity.

"Show this at any temple you reach, and you will be given food and shelter for as long as you need to stay."

Sean and Angela strung the cords over their necks. Reaching down, Angela grabbed her knapsack and slung it over her shoulders. Uncertain, she looked at her friends in the room, then met Sean's eyes.

"Well, I guess we should be going." At his nod she took her staff in her right hand and prepared to leave. She first nodded politely at Alan and Hannah. She then curtsied to the king and queen. Crossing to Paul, she gave him a fierce hug. Looking into his eyes, she read a serenity there that matched what she had sometimes seen in Ariana and Abiron.

He will do well here, she thought. With a mischievous smile, she reached up and kissed the corner of his mouth briefly.

"Be well, brother. For so I name you in truth. You have treated me with more kindness than my blood-brothers, gone these many years. Learn quickly and well, and protect my friends."

"Be well, my lady, for so I name you in truth," he replied. "You deserve the name far more than many with blood far loftier than yours."

With a bow of her head, she accepted the compliment, then turned to Abiron.

"Dry your eyes," she said, some of her trademark asperity back in her voice. "For goodness' sake, you would think that I was dying." She cupped his face in her hands and drew him down for a long, sweet kiss. Cradling her hips in her palms, he returned it with vigor.

Somehow she managed to tear herself away, and turned to the only person to whom she had not yet said farewell.

"My Lady..." she stopped, at a loss for words.

Ariana embraced her. How strange, she thought, that these two have grown so in my heart over the past few weeks. She ran a hand over Angela's golden head.

"Be well, child, and come back to us," she said softly. "We will have need of you in the days ahead. These two," she said, cocking her head at Abiron and Paul, "are gentle souls. There are times when the passion of anger is needed as much as the passion of desire.

"We will look for you at sunset. May your road be clear and your steps light. And may you find joy at your returning."

Released from Ariana's embrace, Angela took a last look around. She ran an arm across her face to clear away the signs of her grief and nodded to Sean.

"Let's go."