stone with tiny windows in the style of churches built in the chaotic years that folowed the breakup of the Empire.
This can’t be right,” said Hugo. “How could they have built the earlier building second?”
“Wait until you see the whole thing,” said Joachim with a smile.
“You mean we haven’t yet?”
As we rode closer, we saw that the dark stone structure we had thought was the church’s lower storey was, in fact, built on top of another church, this one highly decorated with elaborate carvings; that under this was another level where the stonework was smooth and polished, the stained-glass windows tal and pointed; and that at the very bottom was a fifth church built in the modern assymetrical style where, even though the wals had to be very thick to support the levels above, there were stil broad expanses of glass, and dark red stones had been set into the white wals to make abstract designs. The whole five-storey church was sunk into a wide hole in the ground.
“It used to be on a little hil,” said Joachim, enjoying our surprise. “The hil was made mostly of smal stones and the stones became popular among pilgrims, as souvenirs of their visit—and even, for those of simple faith, holy relics in their own right. Soon the hil disappeared, leaving the original church standing wel above the new ground level. So the priests here decided to add a new church, under the old one.” He swung down from his horse and picked up a loose stone himself. The process was repeated three more times.”
We visited al five levels and Joachim talked to the priests there. I tried to contemplate how many pilgrims it must have taken to wear away a hole as big as the one in which the church now sat. There’s a major pilgrimage here every Midsummer,” said Joachim, consulting his book, “and two other smaler religious festivals. The hils are covered with the tents of the pious at Midsummer as far as two miles away.” I had also not realy appreciated before how relatively scarce wizards were in the western kingdoms compared to priests. The latter would be found in every vilage, in isolated churches like this one, and in every—or nearly every—aristocratic court, whereas even a large kingdom might have only a handful of wizards. The king, too, took a stone when we left.
Toward the end of our third day of riding east, we saw an enormous castle rising before us at the very base of the mountains. Dozens of towers and turrets rose above high wals that encircled not just the castle itself but al the hiltops around it. Those wals, pierced with arrowslits and guarded by towers at every corner, must have been at least a mile long. I had once assumed the royal castle of Yurt was a good example of an impregnable castle built for war, but this journey was showing me I was mistaken.
We zigzagged up a steep approach beneath those wals, but the gates before us stood wide and welcoming. Tel your king that King Haimeric of Yurt is here to visit him,” the king told the armed guardsman who met us. Although a second guardsman immediately stepped up to take his place as the first went off with the message, he showed no sign of attacking us and instead gave us an interested look.
King Warm, word came back almost immediately, would be happy to receive us. We passed through the wal, up another zigzag stretch so steep we had to lead the horses, then across a bridge over a deep and narrow ditch and through another set of gates into the castle itself. We were then led through the courtyard, where servants took the horses, and into the great hal.
The hal was about the same size as the great hal in Yurt, but there the comparison stopped. The outer castle wals may have been dark granite, but the interior wals of this room were green marble, set with semi-precious stones that flashed in the light of the magic lamps. Even the flooring was marble. It seemed very cold, I told myself in loyalty to Yurt.
King Warin was seated on his throne on the
This can’t be right,” said Hugo. “How could they have built the earlier building second?”
“Wait until you see the whole thing,” said Joachim with a smile.
“You mean we haven’t yet?”
As we rode closer, we saw that the dark stone structure we had thought was the church’s lower storey was, in fact, built on top of another church, this one highly decorated with elaborate carvings; that under this was another level where the stonework was smooth and polished, the stained-glass windows tal and pointed; and that at the very bottom was a fifth church built in the modern assymetrical style where, even though the wals had to be very thick to support the levels above, there were stil broad expanses of glass, and dark red stones had been set into the white wals to make abstract designs. The whole five-storey church was sunk into a wide hole in the ground.
“It used to be on a little hil,” said Joachim, enjoying our surprise. “The hil was made mostly of smal stones and the stones became popular among pilgrims, as souvenirs of their visit—and even, for those of simple faith, holy relics in their own right. Soon the hil disappeared, leaving the original church standing wel above the new ground level. So the priests here decided to add a new church, under the old one.” He swung down from his horse and picked up a loose stone himself. The process was repeated three more times.”
We visited al five levels and Joachim talked to the priests there. I tried to contemplate how many pilgrims it must have taken to wear away a hole as big as the one in which the church now sat. There’s a major pilgrimage here every Midsummer,” said Joachim, consulting his book, “and two other smaler religious festivals. The hils are covered with the tents of the pious at Midsummer as far as two miles away.” I had also not realy appreciated before how relatively scarce wizards were in the western kingdoms compared to priests. The latter would be found in every vilage, in isolated churches like this one, and in every—or nearly every—aristocratic court, whereas even a large kingdom might have only a handful of wizards. The king, too, took a stone when we left.
Toward the end of our third day of riding east, we saw an enormous castle rising before us at the very base of the mountains. Dozens of towers and turrets rose above high wals that encircled not just the castle itself but al the hiltops around it. Those wals, pierced with arrowslits and guarded by towers at every corner, must have been at least a mile long. I had once assumed the royal castle of Yurt was a good example of an impregnable castle built for war, but this journey was showing me I was mistaken.
We zigzagged up a steep approach beneath those wals, but the gates before us stood wide and welcoming. Tel your king that King Haimeric of Yurt is here to visit him,” the king told the armed guardsman who met us. Although a second guardsman immediately stepped up to take his place as the first went off with the message, he showed no sign of attacking us and instead gave us an interested look.
King Warm, word came back almost immediately, would be happy to receive us. We passed through the wal, up another zigzag stretch so steep we had to lead the horses, then across a bridge over a deep and narrow ditch and through another set of gates into the castle itself. We were then led through the courtyard, where servants took the horses, and into the great hal.
The hal was about the same size as the great hal in Yurt, but there the comparison stopped. The outer castle wals may have been dark granite, but the interior wals of this room were green marble, set with semi-precious stones that flashed in the light of the magic lamps. Even the flooring was marble. It seemed very cold, I told myself in loyalty to Yurt.
King Warin was seated on his throne on the
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