our souls in peril if we don’t do this. That we must stand up for what we know Vkandis Sunlord wishes for his children in this world. How could he look down on us and be pleased if we let the children be put to the Fires?”
And there it was . . . the lurking fear that had plagued him. Only five days left now before the Feast of the Children, when a priest came to the village all the way from Sunhame to test the children.
Test the children. What a bland way to put it. In the old days, that was exactly what it had been. Priests went from city to city, town to town, and village to village to test children for their talents. Talents that were now becoming spoken of in whispers as “witch powers” and were said to be evil in the sight of the Sunlord. But Pytor knew better . . . by the Light of Vkandis, he knew it was not so.
Even when he had studied for the priesthood, things had started to change in Sunhame. The Son of the Sun was no priest he would have chosen, had he had been Vkandis Sunlord, to be the God’s representative on earth. And through the years, the Son of the Sun’s actions had proved him right. Far more interested in temporal power, Hanovar had gathered priests around him who told him exactly what he wanted to hear, all eager to increase whatever powers and positions they thought were rightfully theirs.
“What we’re doing—” He started and abandoned his words, and tried again. “It goes against what I’ve been taught. Our allegiance to the Son of the Sun is paramount. But I know what’s going on in the priestly circles is not what I was led to believe Vkandis wants for his children. How could he wish to destroy those of us he granted these powers to at birth?”
“More the reason,” she said in her quiet voice, “to give’em a chance to grow into those powers in a place they won’t have to live in fear. Najan be our cousin. He’s told of the place we’re going. It be not that far off, and he’s lived there over a year. Two Trees be close enough to the border so we can make it there in three days. A few priests be there already. You know that. Other families followed’em. They be afraid of what could happen to their children who have talents when the Feast of the Children comes. What be so different ’bout this time?”
He cleared his throat. “It’s you . . . I don’t know how I could live without you. We’re all we have left of our family, what with Father gone, Mother dying last year, and your husband the year before. Both you and I are childless. If anything happens—”
“You be avoiding my question,” she said and smiled slightly. “What be so different ’bout this time? And who be the one to say I won’t come back? Once the children be safely ’cross the border, Najan will take care of ’em and I can come home.”
Here it is, Pytor thought. Here’s where I tell her or trust Vkandis to keep my secret.
“You know I have confidence in you and Najan. And it’s not that the children will be too close to the border of Valdemar. Neither Karse nor Valdemar seems too concerned with what goes on in that territory.” He sighed. “What I’ve not told you, is this: the priest who’s coming to Two Trees is Chardan.”
For a moment his sister’s face went totally blank. Suddenly, sadness replaced the emptiness of her features, a sadness that spoke more than anything she could have said.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Chardan. My friend from my earliest days of study in Sunhame. The one I swore an oath to, promising there would never be anything between us. I’ll have to lie to him, Selenna, about those children. Lie! And in doing that, I’ll have to break my oath to him.”
To say nothing of what might happen if Chardan detected the lie .
“But what happened to Durban?”
Durban, the Red-robe priest who had become a Black-robe, who had come year after year to Two Trees and who, despite his talents as a demon summoner, had seemingly possessed a soft spot in his
And there it was . . . the lurking fear that had plagued him. Only five days left now before the Feast of the Children, when a priest came to the village all the way from Sunhame to test the children.
Test the children. What a bland way to put it. In the old days, that was exactly what it had been. Priests went from city to city, town to town, and village to village to test children for their talents. Talents that were now becoming spoken of in whispers as “witch powers” and were said to be evil in the sight of the Sunlord. But Pytor knew better . . . by the Light of Vkandis, he knew it was not so.
Even when he had studied for the priesthood, things had started to change in Sunhame. The Son of the Sun was no priest he would have chosen, had he had been Vkandis Sunlord, to be the God’s representative on earth. And through the years, the Son of the Sun’s actions had proved him right. Far more interested in temporal power, Hanovar had gathered priests around him who told him exactly what he wanted to hear, all eager to increase whatever powers and positions they thought were rightfully theirs.
“What we’re doing—” He started and abandoned his words, and tried again. “It goes against what I’ve been taught. Our allegiance to the Son of the Sun is paramount. But I know what’s going on in the priestly circles is not what I was led to believe Vkandis wants for his children. How could he wish to destroy those of us he granted these powers to at birth?”
“More the reason,” she said in her quiet voice, “to give’em a chance to grow into those powers in a place they won’t have to live in fear. Najan be our cousin. He’s told of the place we’re going. It be not that far off, and he’s lived there over a year. Two Trees be close enough to the border so we can make it there in three days. A few priests be there already. You know that. Other families followed’em. They be afraid of what could happen to their children who have talents when the Feast of the Children comes. What be so different ’bout this time?”
He cleared his throat. “It’s you . . . I don’t know how I could live without you. We’re all we have left of our family, what with Father gone, Mother dying last year, and your husband the year before. Both you and I are childless. If anything happens—”
“You be avoiding my question,” she said and smiled slightly. “What be so different ’bout this time? And who be the one to say I won’t come back? Once the children be safely ’cross the border, Najan will take care of ’em and I can come home.”
Here it is, Pytor thought. Here’s where I tell her or trust Vkandis to keep my secret.
“You know I have confidence in you and Najan. And it’s not that the children will be too close to the border of Valdemar. Neither Karse nor Valdemar seems too concerned with what goes on in that territory.” He sighed. “What I’ve not told you, is this: the priest who’s coming to Two Trees is Chardan.”
For a moment his sister’s face went totally blank. Suddenly, sadness replaced the emptiness of her features, a sadness that spoke more than anything she could have said.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Chardan. My friend from my earliest days of study in Sunhame. The one I swore an oath to, promising there would never be anything between us. I’ll have to lie to him, Selenna, about those children. Lie! And in doing that, I’ll have to break my oath to him.”
To say nothing of what might happen if Chardan detected the lie .
“But what happened to Durban?”
Durban, the Red-robe priest who had become a Black-robe, who had come year after year to Two Trees and who, despite his talents as a demon summoner, had seemingly possessed a soft spot in his
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