Chapter Five
People filled the Great House of Listening for the annual ritual that ushered in the time of the Contemptible. As she gazed at the upturned faces in front of her Tiatra remembered how she had shivered her way through the Contemptible’s cold days in her remote Hall of Listening.
Her Devotees had kept the fires well banked but she had never seemed to get warm there. Here, further south, in the great capital of Simmon, it was not the cold that caused her to shiver. As soon as she had followed Ciara out onto the dais she had spotted the sneering features of Lord D’Braggatio in the front row of the nobles present.
The ceremony commenced with removing the image of the Sprightly from the Hall. She was glad to see him go this time. He had played her a merry trick this season, having her leave her home and enter the Great House as hand maiden to a mock Hearer. But the season of the Sprightly had passed and Ciara had performed her role well.
Tiatra noticed some of the other nobles who sat near to D’Braggatio. There were his smiling supporters and behind them the sadder faces of those who upheld the Will of the Worthy.
Several of them had conferred with the Interpreter and Ciara at frequent intervals. There had been a tense meeting just yesterday.
‘Interpreter, D’Braggatio’s political position has grown stronger. The Lords Harte and Stutley have now also disappeared. It is put about that they have returned to their estates but we cannot believe that. They opposed him openly and have vanished. Now there are only a few of us left.’ Eorl Kenwal spoke with urgency. ‘Since his marriage to the silent lady his dark powers seem also to have grown. With stealth it has spread its roots under those we once regarded as friends and like a mighty bramble, entangles all who come near. The voices of reason and experience are being silenced. Those who should lead are divided and fearful.’ There was no mistaking the concern in the young man’s voice. Tiatra stood to one side in the room as befitted a handmaiden. Ariena and Ciara sat around the table and listened to the concerns of the three Lords who entered into the Great House in a furtive manner after dark.
‘As was done to ourselves when I first came to this Hall,’ Ariena’s tone was wistful. ‘It is how he works. He undermines people, perverts them and then destroys them. Taking their power and position at the same time.’
‘What can we few do? Help us Interpreter. Has not the Worthy given any words of guidance on this yet?’ The three men looked hopefully towards Ciara, who sadly shook her head. The three men looked at each other in despair. Pulling hard on handfuls of his hair, Eorl Kenwal said in a low voice.
‘We are lost.’
‘Surely the rule of Lordship will not be broken?’ Tiatra interrupted. Eorl Kenwal looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.
‘Broken, no. Eroded yes. All that our forefathers fought for; the overthrow of a corrupt regime; the creation of the code of Lordship and the oaths of honour. All of this is being worn away without a hand raised. To be replaced by what? D’Braggatio. A single archimage of immense and yet still growing powers. Why will the Worthy not help us?’
‘Where were you when the Great House needed help? When D’Braggatio smote us with his then much weaker powers? Not one member of the Lordship aided us then when our Hearer was taken from us.’ snapped Tiatra.
‘Alas I was too young. My elders, my poor father included, felt they should not meddle in your house. They believed that the Will of the Worthy would prevail. They did not see that D’Braggatio would succeed. They even believed his whispered lies about the Great House. I regret they did not see he was hand in hand with the Contemptible. My father was killed along with others and so we are where we are.’ He hung his head, then sighed and pushed himself up from the table. His companions rose with him.
‘The Will be done Interpreter. I trust you will send word at once if the Worthy speaks.’ Ariena nodded, the three men bowed to Ciara and then had left in silence.
‘The Will of the Worthy moves all things’ chanted Airena, who stood in front of Tiatra on the dais, facing the body of the Hall. ‘To appreciate his wisdom and deeds he gives us this period of darkness to reflect. The Will of the Contemptible dominates. We ask that he does not bring his worst powers against us.’
The Contemptible’s oak casket was carried up onto the dais by four Devotees and lowered onto its awaiting stand. Ariena stepped in front of it and bowing to it she opened its lid. Then standing to one side she spread her arms wide.
‘I bend to the Will of the Worthy.’
The Contemptible was loose and dominated their lives once more.
‘We bend to the Will of the Worthy,’ chorused the gathered people. Tiatra saw that D’Braggatio did not move his lips during the response. Ariena began the closing anthem, a thanks for the harvest and past days of plenty. D’Braggatio stayed tight lipped. The people sat to hear the closing message from the Worthy. Tiatra had studied the records for words given at this time of year and had selected a passage delivered by the previous Hearer for Ariena to issue. The people now believed Ciara received these words straight from the Worthy and hungered for Ariena to give them new advice each week.
‘The growing days for grain are past, but let not your hearts cease to grow. In your homes, by your fires during the dark days, let in the light. Seek knowledge as you sought grain from the fields. Gather and treasure it. Use it to guide you and to help others. This should be your warmth during the cold to come.’
‘This message is old, we have heard this before Interpreter!’ D’Braggatio’s angry tones resounded round the Hall. Tiatra saw him rise to his feet. The people were hushed and looked at him in fear. ‘You deceive us! That is no Hearer!’ He pointed an angry finger at Ciara. D’Braggatio sneered in contempt and seemed to dare the Interpreter to deny his words. Tiatra moved to step forward but Ciara stayed her and stepped forward herself. She did not usually speak during the ceremonies. Tiatra could feel the silent thrill in the audience as they awaited her words. Ciara smiled at Ariena as she came beside her. She stood tall and erect gazing around the packed Hall. Tiatra swelled at her Devotee’s proud but graceful stance. At last the girl’s eyes rested on D’Braggatio, who stood hand on hip, confident in his challege.
‘For those who have faith no proof is necessary,’ her voice was soft. But had she spoken in a whisper everyone would have heard her. The Hall itself seemed to hold its breath. ‘For those without faith, no proof is ever enough. The Worthy knows these words have been delivered to you in times past, but did you listen? Do you remember? Seek not to know his very heart. I am content with the corner he reveals to me and so should you all.’ She stepped back. Ariena bowed to her and raised her voice in the words of the closing ritual. Tiatra stood, head erect, encouraged by the girl’s words. She watched Lord D’Braggatio’s face draw as dark as thunder. He could not deny the truth of those words and she could see that this response rankled him. He sniffed and swirled his cloak up over his shoulder and marched out of the Hall before Ariena had concluded. Tiatra realised a battle had begun.
The silence of the people as they stood and filed out of the Hall struck Tiatra. She knew that they also felt the implications of the confrontation that had just occurred. Tiatra turned to escort Ciara back to her room and saw that the girl was looking at something. Among the seats and pillars, head bowed and covered, someone was still sitting. Ciara stepped down from the dais heading towards the person. Ariena and the Devotees attended to their duties, moving about tidying up after the ceremony. Tiatra followed Ciara. As they approached the hunched figure she put a hand on Ciara’s shoulder and whispered.
‘I t is the time of the Contemptible, already he has shown his hand here today. Have a care.’ Ciara smiled back at her and knelt beside the figure. It was a woman, bent as with age, lean and impoverished. Ciara reached out and gently lifted the woman’s head. Tiatra stepped back and gasped. The face was a mass of blisters, red and oozing, hair matted into the mess. From out of the disfigurement shone two sad blue eyes on the verge of tears. Ciara did not react to the putrid smell or the repulsive sight. With her hand supporting the woman’s chin she smiled kindly.
‘How came you to this?’ The woman did not reply, but tears started to fall from the yellow encrusted eyes. ‘Come.’ Ciara said and helped the woman from her seat. Tiatra said nothing. She followed the pair as the pretend Hearer escorted the woman into the room behind the dais.
Tiatra marvelled at Ciara’s care of the silent woman. She fetched water and cloths and watched Ciara gently bathe the woman’s face and neck. Tiatra had seen evidence of plague symptoms previously and although these boils were similar she felt that they were not infectious. But they puzzled her. Ciara had a Devotee bring broth and she tended the woman as she ate. Once the bowl was emptied the woman looked up at them both with gratitude.
‘It is beyond me to thank you for your kindness. But I must not stay here, though I would give everything to do so.’
‘Why can you not stay?’ enquired Ciara.
‘I saw what happened in the Hall with my Lord D’Braggatio. You have troubles enough with him. He’s angry with me. He cast this illness upon me. Even if I survive this I shall be scarred for life.’ She pushed Ciara’s hand away and lowered her head again.
‘You shall stay here at least until you are stronger.’ Ariena’s voice came from behind Tiatra; she had not noticed the Interpreter enter. ‘Among the Devotees you will not be noticed. Leave us to worry about Lord D’Braggatio.’
‘I should have been a Devotee, I pledged myself to be the handmaiden to the Hearer when I was young.’
‘The Hearer has a handmaiden.’ Tiatra said. The woman looked up, a light of defiance in the troubled eyes.
‘There is not a true Hearer here, I know that.’ Her words had a spark in them but then she lowered her head again. ‘I am sorry. You are kind and I follow the Will of the Worthy. I know enough to realise why you present an image of a Hearer to the people.’
‘Why do you think I am not a true Hearer?’ Ciara did not sound as shocked as Tiatra felt. It had been on her tongue to deny the woman’s words but Ciara’s warm concern stopped her speaking.
‘At home, as a child I believed in the mother earth and the old spirits. I spoke to them.’
‘Ah, the old ways,’ Ariena said.
‘Yes the old ways. I heard the voice of the Dryad there. She told me that a false Hearer would be installed in a time of need. When is that time if not now? But I was to be handmaiden to the true Hearer. When the Dryad no longer spoke to me I knew the time had come to follow the Will of the Worthy. It was then that I was taken into D’Braggatio’s household as a servant. I never entered a Hall of Listening from then until today. I felt I would find some comfort here.’
‘You shall my d - .’ Ciara began
‘The Dryad told you you would be handmaiden to the true Hearer?’ Ariena’s eagerness cut off Ciara’s comforting words. The woman nodded. Ariena turned to Tiatra with a huge smile on her face.
‘Do you know what this means?’ Tiatra nodded. She had never followed the old faith but she knew its spirits had been as powerful as the Worthy in their day.
‘That the true Hearer must be alive, somewhere.’
‘Do you believe the old spirits then?’ asked Ciara. Tiatra smiled at her.
‘Before the Will of the Worthy was made known to us Dryads and Nyads, spirits of the trees and the earth, created order in the land. Man’s growth drove them to seek the quiet corners of the world. An old yew was said to be the last of the Dryads. D’Braggatio had it cut back to almost nothing and its roots planted in the garden of one of his houses. Yes, I believe the words of the old spirits. Do not worry my Devotee. This gives us much hope, a reason to continue the search.’
‘Come away now and rest. We shall find you a safe place to sleep. What is your name?’ Ariena turned back to the sick woman cowed before them.
‘Silvinatra,’ she said. ‘But I also have proof.’
‘Proof?’ said Ariena.
‘Yes, in this scroll. I took it from my Lord D’Braggatio’s room.’ She pulled a flattened and muddy roll of parchment from under her cloak. Ariena looked at Ciara and Tiatra in wonder before taking the scroll. She stood up to read it and as she did so her eyebrows drew together. It was a face Tiatra knew, it meant that what was on the parchment was serious. Tiatra was on tenter hooks to find out what the scroll said.
‘Well,’ said Ariena putting the scroll down. ‘I take it D’Braggatio does not know this is missing?’
‘Not yet,’ replied Silva. ‘But I know he regarded it as valuable information.’
‘What does it say Interpreter?’ asked Tiatra.
‘That is not for here. Take it back child and keep it safe. Now, Silvinatra, come and rest. We shall tend you and no one shall know you are here but those who live in the Great House of Listening. Then when you are stronger you can tell us more about yourself.’ Ariena helped her to rise and led her away to their small sanatorium.
‘Teacher I am disquieted by the things this Silvinatra has told us.’ Ciara moved to look out of the window into the inner courtyard of the Great House. ‘I feel my role is ending and I do not know how I can serve the Will of the Worthy when the Hearer is found.’
‘My best Devotee, you have served the Worthy well. I was so proud of you today. If nothing more is asked of you think of it as a reward for what you have already done.’ Tiatra stood beside her but the girl broke away in impatience and threw herself back into a chair.
‘But that is just it. I do not feel I have done anything. I stand on the dais and smile, that’s all. You and the Interpreter, you take the risk, do all the work. I no longer even dress myself. At our Hall of Listening I always had work to do, cleaning, preparation, gardening – oh a hundred chores. Here I sit all day and smile at the other Interpreters. I speak the words you find for me. I contribute nothing.’
‘Dear girl you contribute everything. You have given up your way of life to take on this role, all for the sake of the Worthy. That is a sacrifice many would not undertake. Nor could many sustain it as you have. How many would have been brave enough to step forward and openly challege the faith of the most powerful man in the land as you did? Trust me, the Worthy would let us know if we were astray in our efforts. Your doubts, this woman’s words and D’Braggatio’s outburst, it is the Contemptible trying to overthrow us. You must be strong and resist this poison that is whispered into your ear.’
‘It is fine for you, a new Hearer will need you, but what will become of me?’
‘I am old. My time will soon be done. Who knows if the Hearer will be found before I pass away, and who then would she need? Even Silvinatra may not live that long. Take courage you have done much and, I believe, have much left to do. The Worthy will help us.’ Then Ciara cried, tears tracking down her cheeks and Tiatra held her. It was all she could offer in the way of comfort.
On her way to devotion the next morning Tiatra was passed by a group of Devotees hurrying off in the opposite direction from the Hall of Listening.
‘Students!’ she called out amazed at their behaviour. The women stopped and stood respectfully gazing down at the wood floor of the corridor.
‘Do you not know the hour?’ Tiatra asked puzzled. After a few sideways glances at each other one spoke up.
‘Teacher, we do know and would be to our devotions except – except-’
‘Except I gave them permission to miss the morning devotion for other, more pressing duties.’ Ariena’s voice came down the corridor from behind Tiatra. She turned to see the Interpreter walking towards them.
‘What duties could be more pressing than the first devotion of the day, the dawn meeting?’ Tiatra asked.
‘You may go on Devotees.’ Ariena was quiet but firm. The four girls turned and continued on their way. ‘I would not have you question my orders in front of Devotees like that Tiatra. Even though your wisdom and experience far exceeds mine, I am supposed to be your senior.’
‘Interpreter, I am justly rebuked. I have grown so used to our confidential discussions I forgot myself in front of others. I will try not to do so again. I am old and this is all too much for me.’
‘Do not try to deceive me with that talk.’ said Ariena with a smile, ‘come walk with me to the Hall. I have had tree trunks brought in from the countryside. Allegedly they are for fuel during the winter, but I intend them to fortify the doorways in our surrounding wall. I am not going to just sit and wait for events to take their own way without taking any steps to protect ourselves. We do not want to be caught unaware as before. I thought it best to act after our last meeting with Eorl Kenwal. After what happened yesterday, I am glad I have begun preparations for our defence. Those Devotees have been instructed to block the side gates by placing the logs in stacks against them.’
‘Your insight over reaches mine Interpreter.’
‘We need to talk, after the dawn meeting. I will have food brought to my study for us both.’
Tiatra went through the ceremony in a disconnected manner. Her head was buzzing and her responses were automatic. She stared at the plain oak casket that stood open on the dais. It represented the Contemptible, an empty mysterious interior with all its dark contents dispersed throughout the world. Working what evil they could while the Will of the Worthy was subdued. Tiatra wished the season had passed. She would welcome even the image of the mischievous Sprightly being brought inside the Hall once again.