“Just by numbers,” Marek said simply. “Physically, two or three men can usually pin another, and the same is true of Speaking. Then they put a bridle on you, an iron gag with a tongue piece, so that you cannot Speak.”
“You honestly believe that the Voices come from the devil?”
Another nod. “I saved that boy’s life-Hans. But you tell me he committed a terrible crime.”
“Your thinking has been warped!” Wulf said angrily. “If I see a child drowning and rescue that child, am I responsible for every sin that child commits thereafter? How can you reconcile that idea with the doctrine that God gave us all free will?”
“Doctrine is a matter for the Church to determine, Brother.”
“And lie about?”
Marek hesitated. “No. The Holy Father would not lie about that. But small lies… Sometimes the Church is forced to employ things that are otherwise evil in order to do God’s work.”
“Like attracting rich sick people to Koupel and having Speakers cure them so that they will enrich the monastery?”
“We have to pay the abbot’s grocery bill somehow.”
“That remark ought to earn you another dozen lashes.”
“Or a forty-day fast.” The little man’s eyes twinkled, so perhaps they were drawing closer to the truth at last. “You have no idea how good it feels to be able to say things like that again!”
But he still wasn’t saying all he knew.
“When we came to see you, you talked about a first sin and a second sin. There are steps to Speaking, aren’t there? How many?” If his brother’s repentance was genuine, then Wulf might now learn some of the hidden lore of Speaking. If Marek was still playing false, of course, then he would just be pelted with more lies.
The monk wrung his hands. “I don’t know. We are only taught as much as we need to know. The first sin, or first step, as I told you, is hearing the Voices at all. That temptation comes to very few people. The second sin is to listen to them and come to understand what they are saying. Many who are tempted manage to resist that step, so Speakers are very rare. I knew of five in Jorgary-two Dominicans plus three in Koupel, including me. You are the only other one I know of, and you were just starting when I left here, so I wasn’t sure about you until you came to Koupel on Sunday. You make six. There may be more. The third step is to ask the Voices for their help. Just in little things, at first-to find a lost coin, to cure a baby’s colic. It seems so harmless! Then comes the fourth step, undeniable false miracles and acceptance of the pain that is their price.”
“That’s where you are now?”
For the first time, the monk looked truly abashed. “Don’t you remember how sick I was after I healed the boy, Hans? No, you probably don’t, but for two days I felt that there was a thunderstorm going on inside my head. It was the worst pain I have ever known-until Brother Lodnicka’s chastisement yesterday. I might never have Spoken again after what healing the boy cost me. As it was, of course, the Dominicans came for me and made me swear not to. And I never did until today. On Monday I was released from my oath for the purpose of locating you. I was offered a lighter penance if I promised to redress my sin in letting you escape. I had to find you and then fetch the, um
… we call them missionaries.”
Wulf suppressed a shiver, remembering the day his brother had been taken away. “The Lord’s hounds?”
“They get called that, too. The first part of my penance remained the same.”
“To stand for fifty lashes?”
“Forty-two that day, the other eight on Tuesday. I had to ask for a rest. Today I was judged fit enough to start looking, so I came to Dobkov as the best place to begin. And it worked! The pain in my back kept the other pain away.”
“Or they were lying and I was right. You accepted pain that you could have refused altogether. They want you to believe the pain is inevitable so you will not call on your Voices without permission.” Receiving no answer, Wulf said, “Try it now if you don’t believe me. Walk through limbo to Koupel and then back here. Refuse the price, and you will be given the power as a gift.”
Marek grimaced. “I will believe you. After all these years in Koupel being fed lies, I will believe you.” He sighed. “I thought my search was over almost before it began. The moment I arrived here at Dobkov I was told that you had been here and were expected to return soon. My orders were to wait until dark and then go back and tell the abbot where you could be found.” He paused and looked away. “Except that I knew I couldn’t. Even before you walked in just now, I knew I wouldn’t. I am sorry, Brother! I was wrong even to think of it. Please believe me. It is so good to be home,” he added wistfully.
The first story had been a lie; was the second true? Lies could qualify as “things otherwise evil” that might be employed to do the Lord’s work. Wulf donned a fresh tunic and a short cloak.
“So what’s the fifth step in Speaking?”
Marek shook his head. “I’m not sure. I once overheard someone saying that there are eight ranks or grades in all. When you were able to refuse the cost and feel no pain, then that may have been when you reached the fifth level. I do know about the sixth, and now you have reached that.”
“Which is?” Wulf asked uneasily.
“The sixth step is when you start believing in the saints-truly believing what the Voices tell you, rejecting the Church’s teaching that they are devils. That’s when the nimbus appears.”
“Nimbus?”
“Well, you didn’t have it when you came to Koupel.”
Wulf crossed the room in two bounds to peer in the mirror. Light of no color and all colors glowed around his head as if he were a saint in an icon. He was still staring at it in horror when a concerned Marek appeared in the reflection.
“You didn’t know?” he said.
“No! It wasn’t there when I shaved this morning.”
“Then it must have just come. Only other Speakers can see it.”
“All other Speakers will see me like this now?”
“Perhaps not those with very low rank, but when the Dominican missionaries came here to Dobkov for me, the main reason I went with them so readily was that I saw them glowing like images of Christ.”
This was appalling! Wulf was literally a marked man, branded like a thief. “Will it fade if I stop Speaking to my Voices?”
“I don’t think so.” Marek was looking genuinely sympathetic.
“Abbot Bohdan doesn’t have a halo, not that I could see.”
“I don’t think Bohdan is a Speaker. If he was, he wouldn’t have needed my help to eavesdrop on you. But there must be higher steps that I don’t know. Higher ranks may be able to hide their nimbus.”
“They don’t need you to track me down now, do they?” Wulf wailed. “Any Speaker I meet will see me glowing like a bonfire.”
“Most of them will be equally visible to you, though,” Marek said. “Some won’t be, like me, but those ones are probably not dangerous to you.”
“So you still believe your Voices are sent by the devil? And mine?”
Marek bowed his head. “I suppose I must. Maybe, when I have had a few days away from the monastery and have practiced Speaking again, I will come to agree with your view. But, Wulf, I swear I will not betray you to the missionaries! By my immortal soul, I swear! Now I see myself through your eyes and know that no Magnus should ever betray another the way I was going to betray you. I won’t go back to Koupel… willingly.”
“I am glad,” Wulf said. Glad but not convinced. He ran fingers through his hair and pulled on his flowerpot-shaped hat to hide it. “You can’t go around in a Benedictine habit, though. We’ll see if Branka’s seamstresses can turn you into a Franciscan. Monk to friar, black to brown.”
“You’ll forgive me?”
“Nothing to forgive!” Wulf hugged him. “They had you for five years. They preached at you night and day, I suppose? Half starved you? Beat you? Kept you short of sleep? Their message was all you ever heard. You wouldn’t be human if you could withstand such treatment. But you must do one thing to prove that you’re truly repentant.”