Princeps: A Novel in the Imager Portfolio by L. E. Modesitt Jr.
Authors: L. E. Modesitt Jr.
Ads: Link
departure, Quaeryt did locate Phargos, several glasses later, actually in the anomen.
“The word is that you and Third Regiment will be leaving in the next day or so.”
“Mardi morning, if it’s not storming.” Quaeryt paused. “I made you a promise…”
“I hope you intend to keep it.” Phargos grinned. “I was worried about the homily for this evening anyway.”
“I will.” But you may well worry about the homily after it’s delivered.
After he left the anomen, Quaeryt returned to his various tasks, eventually getting back to his and Vaelora’s quarters in time to eat and then for the two of them to make their way to the anomen for services.
They stood near the front, but to one side through the first part of the service.
When it came time for the homily, Phargos did not step up to the pulpit, but stood in the middle of the sacristy and began to speak. “As all of you know, Princeps Quaeryt will be leaving with Third Regiment. So I thought it would be fitting for him to deliver the homily this evening.” Phargos offered a benevolent smile.
As Quaeryt turned to move to the pulpit, the first time he’d actually delivered a homily from there, he did catch the glimpse of an almost impish expression on the regimental chorister’s face. Without being excessively slow, he moved to the pulpit deliberately, then stood there for several moments before speaking, in Bovarian, as was the custom at the anomen in the Telaryn Palace.
“Under the Nameless, all evenings are reckoned as good, but, unhappily, at times, we all have our doubts about that reckoning.” After delivering that phrase as wryly as he could, he paused slightly. He could see several nods and heard a rueful chuckle before he went on. “The reason Third Regiment is leaving Tilbora early is that there is great destruction in Extela. Mount Extel erupted and destroyed much of the city. I doubt most seriously that many in Extela feel that this is a good evening. Nor would many of thoughtful mind have said that the Solayi following the fall of the last hill hold was especially good, not with all the deaths and the agonizing injuries. Yet all evenings under the Nameless are good … so it is said.
“Well … certainly being able to be alive and well enough to see the evening is better than the alternative, but is that what is meant by a good evening? Is mere survival enough to make the evening good? There’s certainly nothing I’ve read or heard that makes such a claim. Nor has the Nameless whispered in my ear and said, ‘All evenings are good because I said so.’ And, while it may be personal vanity on my part, somehow I don’t think that the Nameless would say that. I’m going to go out on a limb—or stand at the edge of a cliff, if you will, in this storm that we call life and say that what is meant by those words is something quite different from the simple meaning we hear in them.” Quaeryt paused again.
“What if … what if those words really mean that all evenings are good because we have the ability to discern between what is good and what is not? That we have the capability to choose between a course of good or a course of evil or a course somewhere in between. Now … some will say that the Nameless has the power to do anything, and question why evil things happen to good people, especially evil things not made by people. In one way or another, we choose whether to fight, as do those against whom we fight, but no one chooses to have a mountain explode and kill them or their family. Yet … let me put the question in another way. What value, what integrity, would lie in life if the Nameless mandated and ordered life in such a fashion that there were no evils … of any sort? Or even a world where evildoers were struck down by lightning or plague sent by the Nameless? Could it be that all evenings are good, because each one offers us the possibility of affirming what we are and what we can be at our best?
“If there were
“The word is that you and Third Regiment will be leaving in the next day or so.”
“Mardi morning, if it’s not storming.” Quaeryt paused. “I made you a promise…”
“I hope you intend to keep it.” Phargos grinned. “I was worried about the homily for this evening anyway.”
“I will.” But you may well worry about the homily after it’s delivered.
After he left the anomen, Quaeryt returned to his various tasks, eventually getting back to his and Vaelora’s quarters in time to eat and then for the two of them to make their way to the anomen for services.
They stood near the front, but to one side through the first part of the service.
When it came time for the homily, Phargos did not step up to the pulpit, but stood in the middle of the sacristy and began to speak. “As all of you know, Princeps Quaeryt will be leaving with Third Regiment. So I thought it would be fitting for him to deliver the homily this evening.” Phargos offered a benevolent smile.
As Quaeryt turned to move to the pulpit, the first time he’d actually delivered a homily from there, he did catch the glimpse of an almost impish expression on the regimental chorister’s face. Without being excessively slow, he moved to the pulpit deliberately, then stood there for several moments before speaking, in Bovarian, as was the custom at the anomen in the Telaryn Palace.
“Under the Nameless, all evenings are reckoned as good, but, unhappily, at times, we all have our doubts about that reckoning.” After delivering that phrase as wryly as he could, he paused slightly. He could see several nods and heard a rueful chuckle before he went on. “The reason Third Regiment is leaving Tilbora early is that there is great destruction in Extela. Mount Extel erupted and destroyed much of the city. I doubt most seriously that many in Extela feel that this is a good evening. Nor would many of thoughtful mind have said that the Solayi following the fall of the last hill hold was especially good, not with all the deaths and the agonizing injuries. Yet all evenings under the Nameless are good … so it is said.
“Well … certainly being able to be alive and well enough to see the evening is better than the alternative, but is that what is meant by a good evening? Is mere survival enough to make the evening good? There’s certainly nothing I’ve read or heard that makes such a claim. Nor has the Nameless whispered in my ear and said, ‘All evenings are good because I said so.’ And, while it may be personal vanity on my part, somehow I don’t think that the Nameless would say that. I’m going to go out on a limb—or stand at the edge of a cliff, if you will, in this storm that we call life and say that what is meant by those words is something quite different from the simple meaning we hear in them.” Quaeryt paused again.
“What if … what if those words really mean that all evenings are good because we have the ability to discern between what is good and what is not? That we have the capability to choose between a course of good or a course of evil or a course somewhere in between. Now … some will say that the Nameless has the power to do anything, and question why evil things happen to good people, especially evil things not made by people. In one way or another, we choose whether to fight, as do those against whom we fight, but no one chooses to have a mountain explode and kill them or their family. Yet … let me put the question in another way. What value, what integrity, would lie in life if the Nameless mandated and ordered life in such a fashion that there were no evils … of any sort? Or even a world where evildoers were struck down by lightning or plague sent by the Nameless? Could it be that all evenings are good, because each one offers us the possibility of affirming what we are and what we can be at our best?
“If there were
Similar Books
