"Of course.” Eleal forced herself to take another bite of pie. She did not want to think about what was happening in the Lady's temple. Before she could ask about the sword and the reaper instead, the lecture resumed.
"The gods made us to serve them.” Sister Ahn wiped gravy from her chin with a gnarled hand. “In this world we learn to do their will. When we have completed our apprenticeship, Zath gathers us to their judgment, to serve in whatever manner we have shown ourselves best fit for. In the Red Scriptures, the Book of Eemeth, it is written, Among the heavens and the constellations thereof shall they be set, lighting the world as the lesser gods."
Eleal had never understood the attraction of being hung in the sky like laundry for all eternity.
"To do what we want is easy,” the nun said, still chewing. “To do what the gods want may not be. The reaper upset you, and a deal of other people also, but he worships Zath as Zath commands him. To take life is a sin for most of us. To obey the dictate of a god is never sin. A reaper can slay with a touch of his hand, but only because Zath has given him that power. Likely the god gave him other powers also, to help him in his unhappy task. He must put the god's gifts to their intended use. What for you or me would be murder is for him both a sacrament and a duty."
Eleal shivered. “And the Lady?"
"Likewise. To offer your body to a man for money would be a crime most foul. To do so as a sacrifice to the Lady when she commands it is a holy, precious thing. Obedience is all."
The faded gray eyes turned from Eleal to stare blankly across the windy meadow. “I have never lain with a man. I have never killed anyone. That does not make me better than those who do such things in holy service. I am sworn to obey another goddess in other ways, that is all."
A troop of armed citizens went striding past, returning from their drill. They all seemed to glance sideways at Eleal's odd companion, and she realized that no other passersby had come as close. Apparently a Daughter of Irepit was to be avoided—not given as wide a berth as a reaper would merit, but wide enough to remind Eleal of Uthiam's wary expression when she faced this cryptic crone.
"What goddess? Irepit? Is she an avatar of the Maiden?"
"Of course—Astina in her aspect as goddess of repentance. A stern goddess! Not as stern as Ursula, her aspect of justice, but—"
"Why drag that sword around if you don't use it?"
The old woman smiled her gruesome smile happily. “Because the Holy Irepit has so commanded, of course. It is a reminder and a burden, a burden I bear gladly."
"A reminder of what?"
"A reminder of mortality and obedience.” She pointed a bony finger at Eleal's right boot, with its two-inch sole. “You also bear a burden, child."
"Not willingly!” Eleal was annoyed to feel her face flushing.
"But perhaps the gods had their reasons for laying it upon you."
It was very impolite to discuss people's infirmities. The sword was not the same thing at all.
"Swords are valuable! Suppose some man covets it and threatens to kill you for it?"
The nun shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Then I refuse and he kills me. If he takes it without killing me, then I must kill myself in penance for whatever evil he may someday do with it. I said it was a burden."
"You may never use it?"
"Only in ritual. Some of my sisters have frozen to death rather than profane their swords by chopping wood with them."
"Well!” Eleal said crossly. “You tell me that everything has a purpose. Obviously the purpose of a sword is to kill people, er, men, I mean."
"Oh, I never said it had not killed people!” The nun patted the hilt of the weapon lovingly. “It has belonged to my order for a long time, so I expect it has been the death of many."
That made no sense at all. The woman was as crazy as the equally ancient priest who had first mentioned her. The two of them must be in cahoots somehow. Feeling very uneasy, Eleal scrambled to her feet.
"To endure without complaint, to obey without question,” Sister Ahn said, as if unaware of the movement, “this is what life is for. It is written in the Book of Shajug how holy P'ter, having ruled over the Thargians for tenscore years and seven—"
"Why are you traveling to Suss?"
The nun sighed. “The play was written long ago. By your definition it is a tragedy, for the gods are involved. There is a part in this play for one of my order. I deemed ... I was deemed the most expendable."
"And me? You knew my name!"
"Your part is written also."
"Namely?"
Sister Ahn peered up awkwardly at this impertinent young questioner. Tears were trickling down her cheeks. “So many questions! In the Blue Scriptures, the Book of Alyath, we read, Ask not lest the answer displease you; seek not lest you become lost; knock and you may open a dangerous door."
Crazy as a drunken bat!
"I really must be off!” Eleal said royally. “Business, you know. I do wish you would find yourself some warmer garments. Now, pray excuse me."
She stalked away. She half expected to hear an order that she stay and listen to more, but it did not come.
11
SUNDAY NEVER REALLY EXISTED FOR EDWARD EXETER. From time to time the pain in his leg would solidify out of the fog and he would open his eyes and see the mess of bandages and ropes and discover that he could not move. His head throbbed. He faded in and faded out. Often he would try to turn over and again be balked by those ropes and that leg stuck up in the air. He was vaguely aware of nurses coming around at intervals and talking to him. As soon as he grunted a few words, they would go away satisfied. Sometimes they tucked thermometers under his tongue and scolded when he went to sleep and dropped them. There was a nasty business with a bottle, too.
Often the world was filled with silent music, sometimes music soaring like a Puccini aria, sometimes funny music, like a Gilbert and Sullivan patter song, although he heard no words.
Once or twice he noted the drab brown walls and the stink of carbolic and ether. Then he would deduce yet again that he must be in a hospital and therefore was being cared for and could safely drift off again. At other times he thought he was back in Paris and reflected that Smedley's uncle kept jolly hard beds. Once he had a memory of pain and streaming blood; he started to cry out then. Someone came and jabbed a needle in him and the music returned.
A voice he knew spoke his name, very far away. His eyelids were heavy as coffin lids, but he forced them open and saw Alice.
"I'm dead, aren't I?” His tongue was too thick, his lips too stiff.
"Not very."
"Then why am I seeing angels?"
She squeezed his hand. “How do you feel?"
"Not quite as good as usual."
"You'll be better tomorrow, they say."
He blinked to try and make his eyes work correctly. There was an electric light up there. “What time is it?"
"Evening. Sunday evening. You had a bang on the head. I told them there wasn't much brain there to start with."
He tried to say, “Tell me you love me and I'll die happy.” He wasn't sure if he managed to. They woke him later to give him a back rub, but Alice had gone.
12
ELEAL HAD BEEN WANDERING AIMLESSLY AROUND THE city's dreary gray streets until eventually her feet brought her into the temple quarter. The house of Ois was easily the tallest building in town, but no less ugly than any of the others. She did not want to visit that! Old Sister Ahn might describe what was happening there as a great and holy sacrifice, but Eleal still felt that it was degradation, and she would not witness her friends’ shame.