The Sultanah Ch. 03

I looked out the window as I considered my plight. The sun had already reached its apex and was now starting to slip back down towards the horizon. The light had taken on a slightly orange glow that gave my throne room an intimate air. I saw the light splashing through nearest window, and spilling out over the floor like a flaming sword through the darkness.

"My Sultanah," Cin said suddenly. I jolted, as though I had been asleep and looked at my priestess. She was looking up from the floor, her beautiful face looking serene, as it always did. I noticed that a streak of that beautiful light was across Cin's eyes, giving them a shimmering brightness.

"Yes Cin?" I said in response.

"As I said, this gambit will fail," She replied. Her eyes stayed on me, locked with an intensity they had not possessed of late.

"Yes, I heard you," I said, feeling a bit annoyed. I had made a decision about that. I was sticking to it. It was all I could do to avoid rolling my eyes. Cin shook her head, as though I did not understand her.

"I think, Sultanah, that you have been focused on the wrong problem," she explained, "I have had a new thought. You have been looking at this siege as a material, military, and political problem."

"Are you suggesting it is not those things?" I said. I stood now, this was a different tack that taken before. Cin was going to suggest something new. Anything new was better. I walked down the stairs of the throne slowly, to stand with the priestesses, my sister and Arkadas stood as well.

"Not primarily," Cin replied.

"Well what is it then?" Kardes asked. I appreciated that my sister always seemed able to ask the curt, blunt questions that I feared to ask, even when surrounded only by my female advisors.

"It is a spiritual battle," Cin stated, "Spiritual impurity haunts this city." I felt my heart sink. This was hardly what I needed now.

"Cin, I do not have time for ecclesiastical matters now. You see my heart, you know I love Gunes as I love the sun, for Gunes is the sun," I replied, "but have more pressing matters now," I said, now unable to hide my annoyance.

"You are not only an individual, you represent the empire, and the spirit of the Empire is ripped in two," Cin responded, nodding to herself slowly. I looked at Arkadas, who seemed not to be paying attention. Kardes' brow was furrowed. The other sun priestess stared at me impassively.

"Cin, what good would converting everyone to Gunes be if we are all dead in a week anyway?" Kardes asked, her words dripping with malice. A just question. I could not believe that Cin would worry about such distant matters when we balanced on the knife's edge of total destruction.

"Do not create artificial distinctions in your mind," Gunes responded, not returning Kardes' heat, "the solution to your material, military, and political problems can only be solved by curing the spiritual problem in our midst."

"I have eliminated Cardinal Rahip," I replied, "He is 500 feet below us in the darkest dungeon of the palace. He is in a place that light cannot reach, sitting in a pool of water filled with rats. He must relieve himself in the same water he drinks. He is not given a food ration. As a holy man, I cannot execute him. But he will not last much longer." For a moment I considered the fate of the old man, who I had known all my life, and shivered. But he had crossed me and threatened my dynasty. It was imperative that I not succumb to pity or mercy.

"So when you pull the snakes fangs from your flesh you simultaneously draw the venom?" Cin asked sharply.

"Don't speak in riddles!" Kardes shot back. But I felt the hair pricking up on my head. I felt a chill, but suddenly the sun felt brighter in the room, growing yellow where it was once orange. I looked at Cin.

"What are you saying?" I asked. Cin took a breath and looked at her sister priestesses before speaking.

"All throughout this city, people are becoming more desperate. People who might not usually turn to prayer are finding they have nothing left but to ask for guidance. While many correctly pray to Gunes, many from ignorance and habit pray to the false god. That god is the god of our enemies. When they ask Tanri to deliver the city, to whom does Tanri look? Their prayers aid our enemy. And every day there are more prayers. Prayers for peace through our destruction. Tanri's strength grows greater in the city. You feel it yourself, you feel you cannot say Gunes' name at your meeting for fear of offending your enemies. You have eliminated Rahip, but there are thousands of other people in this city who are infected with his views. With knowledge or not, they bring the calamity to our city. When you clean this spiritual impurity, you will cure your political problems as well."

"Oh, so religious babble disguised as political advice then?" Kardes said angrily. But Cin's words had washed over me in an almost physical way as they poured from her mouth. I could sense Gunes in her words, just as certainly as her red light had guided me to Rahip in the past. I did not know how, but I could sense that Cin was right. Perhaps not in the direct way that she implied, but the core of her point seemed nonetheless absolutely true.

There were still people in the city who wished it to fall to our enemies, that they took solace in Tanri, and that they led astray citizens who would otherwise be loyal. Other people, who only wanted peace, could be driven to accept the fall of the city if it meant an end to war. The will of the city to resist was falling and some of that drop in morale was caused by those who worshipped Tanri. I had to stem the tide and reverse this action. I had to convince the people that we could resist somehow, that Gunes (or something) was more powerful than our enemies' god and that we could be protected. If I could solve that problem, perhaps it would put my other problems in perspective, give my city unity, and show us a path to victory. I didn't know the mechanics of how the solution would work itself, but I could sense the truth in Cin's suggestion. I owed everything to Gunes, perhaps she would reward me again if I served her now.

And, to a certain extent, I was tired of sitting on my throne worrying. I wanted something I could actually do, something that could make me feel like I was actively seeking a solution to my city's doom. Cin's words had placed some action in my mind, a desire to stop hunkering down and waiting for a savior, a desire to make something happen. I had become the Sultanah and I was tired of waiting for something to happen that would allow me to lead. I had to just do it. I turned and started to walk towards the door of the throne room.

"Are we dismissed?" Arkadas asked sleepily. She had clearly not been paying attention.

"Where are you going?" Kardes asked. I turned and looked over my shoulder at my advisors.

"To suck out the poison," I said and turned and left.

* * * * *

Half an hour later I was out in the middle of Şehir. There were thousands of people in the streets, so much so that even the wide boulevards felt like they were crammed from doorway to doorway on either side. This was not surprising; farmers and their families had been sneaking into the city at night with the aid of their families in town (a major security concern, but something I could not bear to end). On top of that, the constant shelling from our enemies' siege machines had destroyed many homes and businesses. People had few places to go other than out into the street.

Despite the bulging crowds, the streets if Şehir lacked their usual vibrancy. There were more people in the public squares, but less life. The people of the city, and therefore most of the people of the empire, had an air of gloom about them that I had never felt before. I had always loved venturing into the city to see the street performers, hear the merchants yelling at customers, and breathe in the excitement of life. But that city no longer seemed to exist. Large crowds were mostly silent. Stooped shouldered men and glassy-eyed women stood with long faces in lines for their daily rations of food. Children, too tired from fear to play, lay on straw heaps looking at the sky while their mothers and fathers gazed around nervously. You could hear the shuffle of feet on the ground and the sound of an individual cough.

As I moved through the listless crowd, I wore dark, peasant clothing and covered my face against recognition, but I wondered if it was necessary. Everyone seemed so engrossed by their own fears and misery that it was unlikely they would have noticed me if I'd walked naked down the thoroughfares. Well...perhaps not naked. But the point remained, the people of Şehir appeared to have been beaten already.

This was the morale crises that I had feared. If the enemy had come crashing into the city now, I believed the people would simply drop to their knees and beg for mercy. They would turn me over quickly. Not because they hated me, but because they found no reason to resist. They could think only of their own worries. Those worries were all they had left, I could not blame them. But I had to change the tenor. I had to make the people believe that we could win.

As I left wended my way slowly through the streets, I did not so much have an idea of what I was doing or where I was going as I had an urge to move. I trekked through markets and alleys, always keeping my eyes open but not seeing anything. Despite the tension I felt in the streets, it was good to be out of the palace. Seeing my own worry reflected in the eyes of my subjects was oddly comforting. Ideas, half formed, percolated up from the sympathy I felt for their strife. Nothing solid yet, but I felt closer than I had in days to some sort of breakthrough.

About an hour into my journey I suddenly found myself standing in a large square near the center of the city. I had not been paying attention to where I was walking, so engrossed was I in thought. But I briefly looked up as I heard more noise in the street than that to which I had become accustomed. There was a slight murmur in the crowd and a little bit of electricity. After a moment, I looked up and instantly recognized where I was located. Kilise Square. Here was the Ibadethane Cathedral, the chief house of worship for Tanri in the city. It was one of the tallest and most beautiful buildings in the city, with sweeping pillars, beautiful stained glass windows, and a massive, ornate bell tower. It was Rahip's former seat and a symbol of the new God's power

As I looked up I heard a loud clanging sound. I heard the murmur in the crowd grow louder and all turned towards the bell tower. It was 5:00 o'clock, time for prayers. As the clock began to chime, the large oak doors to the Cathedral flew open. The crowd grew silent, and actually took a few collective steps back. As the second chime of the bell rang, people began to make their way out of the Cathedral. On the left were men wearing loose brown robes, their heads shaved in the monkish fashion. On the right were the nuns, wearing long, loose white dresses and elaborate headscarves. I thought for a moment that it was strange that in a different life, I would have been joining them. That didn't feel as though it was just a few weeks in the past.

But I quickly pushed those thoughts out of my mind. Instead, I was intrigued by what was happening. I pushed my way slowly through the crowd, trying to get closer. Of course, I had seen the hourly prayers of the followers of Tanri in the past. This was not a new tradition; they had been doing it since they first came to the city. But it had a new urgency now, and I wanted to gauge the reactions of the people.

The monks and the nuns worked their way down the steps of the Cathedral as the bell continued to toll. Their heads were bowed reverently and they moved in perfect unison. They looked like a snake, slithering over the steps. As they made their way out of the doors they fanned out, the monks to the left and the nuns to the right, spreading out in front of the Cathedral. In a few moments, all twenty nuns and all twenty monks (there were hundreds of Tanri followers in the community, but only 40 participated in each hourly prayer ceremony on a rotating basis. Forty was a sacred number to Tanri). As they reached their final positions in a semi-circle in front of the church, they all turned in an instant. In unison, their heads shifted so their eyes were facing the church.

"Glory be to Tanri!" they all yelled at once. In the silence of the square, their voices carried impressively. While I was still a few ranks back in the crowd, I was almost overwhelmed by the sound. I had seen this ceremony before. But never in so quiet a square. Usually, most people just ignored the zealots and commenced their shopping. Today was different. I found that it made my stomach turn and my head ache just to hear their overwhelming noise. Others in the crowd had a different reaction. As the holy men and holy women spoke, many of my subjects reflexively fell to their knees in prayer. I would not say that it was half of the crowd, but it was not far short. Further, even those who did not dropped to pray looked reverently at the Cathedral.

And not just the Cathedral. They were looking at what the nuns and the monks were looking at, the object of their prayers. When Sultan Kâfir III had tried to move the seat of worship for the New Religion from Kasaba to Şehir, he had attempted to entice the leaders of the religion through the purchase of a holy relic. In fact, the Sultan had still been a wealthy man at that time, and he had purchased one of the most important artifacts of the religion. It was a gem of enormous size. I had never been close enough to the object to know what it was, but I could not deny its beauty. It was the size of two men's heads and it was cut into a perfect sphere. Its color was a pale, ephemeral blue that gave the gem the appearance of ice or of a grandfather's eyes. Legend had it that the gem had appeared in the exact spot Tanri had been standing when he ascended into the heavens.

Kâfir III's attempt to woo the leaders of the New Religion to the city had failed, but the gem had stayed. The Cardinals of Şehir were still renowned figures in the New Religion and the gem stood as a symbol of their power. They had placed it in the center of their great clock tower and, as their religion required, they prayed towards it every hour on the hour from sun up until the sun finally set.

Evidently, the people felt the same reverence for the gem that the nuns and the monks felt. It was a physical manifestation of the authority of Tanri. A physical link to the spiritual word. Despite the fact that I no longer felt any affinity towards Tanri, I could feel the power of that symbol. And if I could feel it, how could my subjects in their misery fail to feel.

"Lord Tanri," a voice called out, emanating from one of the monks, "We humbly pray that you deliver us from the scourge of war. We ask that you give our Sultan..ah, the wisdom to put aside her pride and to think first of her people who suffer greatly. We ask that your will be done so that peace may come without further bloodshed. Amen!" The crowd, even those who were not on their knees, largely repeated the "Amen" to close the prayer. I felt a chill run down my spine. It was exactly as Cin had explained and what I feared. The New Religion was truly undermining me in the guise of calling for peace. I had eliminated their Cardinal, but the roots of the New Religion were too deep. This was a cancer in my Empire, it made certain subjects more closely aligned with my enemies than with me. I had to rip it out. But how?

I was watching as the nuns and the monks slowly began to file back into the Cathedral, the prayer was over. People in the square remained largely still and reverent. I tried to overhear conversations, but everyone was whispering and I could not make anything out without leaning in too closely. But I could tell from the tone of the group that there was great reverence for the New Religion and its followers. And I now understood that each gram of respect the New Religion received was yet another nail in the coffin of the Empire.

As I was thinking these dreary thoughts, I found myself walking towards the Cathedral. I certainly had no intention of going inside, but I found myself drawn to the building. I gazed at its stone pillars and bright windows, searching for the key, for the way of undermining its authority. But the building yielded no secrets. It, and the stone that crowned it, were a symbol of authority, not the authority itself. That authority was granted from the hearts of my people, cleaved in two with divided loyalty.

I looked back over my shoulder and saw those people, still standing quietly and appearing humble. I wondered briefly if they would kill me for their God in that moment if they knew who I was. If they would answer their own prayers. But as I looked at them, I noticed something. While the vast majority of people were on their knees or standing with mouths agape, there was someone moving around.

The person was wearing a long black robe and their head was covered such that only the eyes were exposed. In a dark alley this person would be invisible. My years moving through the city had sharpened my eyes to all of the various activities in the city. I had always prided myself on my ability to spot pickpockets and this one was particularly bold. I watched the thief walk up behind anxious mothers and reach into their backs quickly, or rifle imperceptibly through the pockets of a worshipping farmer. No doubt the thief was looking for food. I did not raise the alarm; instead I watched the pickpocket work.

After a few seconds in which the pickpocket had silently and without notice extracted goods from ten different people in the square, he quickly began to move towards the cathedral, towards me. I knew that the pickpocket was likely trying to get out before anyone noticed their items were missing. I briefly considered calling out "thief!" and summoning guards to arrest the pickpocket. People would once again be surprised and delighted by the adventures of their Sultanah, perhaps it would buy me a little more good will.

But, something more powerful was at work inside of me. Here was the only person in the square besides me who had been completely unaffected by the Tanril Hours Ceremony. If nothing else, that should have earned my silence. But beyond that, this person, so brazen and purposeful, intrigued me. For reasons I could not explained, I chose to simply watch the pickpocket move.

He was walking towards me at first, but before he reached the area directly in front of the cathedral he turned right. He started walking down the side of the cathedral, into a somewhat darkened alley off the square. After a moment to give him space, I turned and followed. I don't know why I followed; I just wanted to see where this type of person might be going.

He moved slowly, likely so that he would not draw attention if people in the square began to notice their thefts. But as the alley got darker and darker along the length of the cathedral, he began to move faster. Soon, he was jogging and I was jogging behind him, as quiet as possible. About three quarters of the way down the length of the cathedral, the pickpocket suddenly stopped, turned and faced the building, and dove forward towards the base. He disappeared in an instant.

I began to spring towards where the pickpocket had disappeared. I would have expected that his head would have been crushed against the base of the building by the speed with which he had dived toward it. But from the distance, there was no sign of him. I was confused and a little scared. What sort of sorcery was this?

After a few seconds, I made it to the place where the pickpocket had disappeared. I realized quickly that there was no sorcery at all. A large hole existed where the cobbles of the alley met the base of the cathedral. It was about two feet high and four feet wide. It was so dark that I would have believed it a mere pothole if I had not seen the pickpocket act. I realized that the pickpocket had entered the cathedral basement through the hole.