The False Martyr (107 page)

“
The governor has been
called away,” Valati Lareno said as if that were an
answer.

“
Everyone’s still asleep,”
Dasen said through a yawn as the valati helped him into the back of
the wagon then took a seat by the driver. “We can’t collect food
now.”

“
It’s Teaching Day. We
were never planning to collect food today.” The valati touched the
arm of the driver at his side. The wiry old man snapped his reins
but made no call as the horses began to pull. Only one other wagons
followed behind with only the creek of wood and rattle of wheels to
mark their passage.

“
Go back to sleep, my
lady,” the valati said before Dasen could get his head around what
was happening. “We have a long trip before us. You might as well
rest.”

How had he not remembered
that it was Teaching Day, that they had already told the people
that there would be no food collection today? It made this all the
more nonsensical. What were they doing with the wagons if not
gathering food? And why so early? In violation of the curfew? When
everyone who might donate was asleep? Another yawn took Dasen as
his questions mounted. He tried to formulate them, but his eyes
refused to stay open, his thoughts refused to coalesce. And sleep
claimed him before he could form any of the questions into words
much less find their answers.

He woke at the camp. The
sun was just rising and Valati Lareno was calling to the guards to
lower the drawbridge. Remembering to rub his eyes carefully so that
he would not smear the cosmetics, Dasen sat up and looked around as
the wagons rumbled over the bridge into a place a world removed
from the one he’d visited only a week before.

A crowd greeted them.
Clustered into families, the people here were still ragged, dirty,
wasted, barely human, but they were no longer dying. They stood
straight, eyes clear and focused, faces filled with resolve. The
death wagons to the sides held food and water now. The sickness was
gone – attributed to Lady Esther but more a testament to Teth’s
abilities as an herbalist. The well had been closed to ensure it
didn’t return. The latrines had been moved to another island that
was accessed through the gap they had created in the fence that
first day. More of that fence had been deconstructed to create the
bridge that led to that island. In fact, almost all the fences were
down now, the remaining wood having been used for fires. In the
middle of the camp, the doors to the tower stood open. The soldiers
who had patrolled it with crossbows stood among the refugees now
without arms or armor, differentiated from their prisoners only by
the relative cleanliness of their uniforms and flesh that still
clung on their bones. This was Deena Esther’s true miracle, and
every time Dasen saw it, his heart soared. He had saved these
people. They were alive because of him. For all of Lareno’s false
miracles, this was possible because of him. It was and always would
be his greatest achievement.

When Dasen rose, the crowd
bowed low as if meeting the highest form of royalty. Instantly
awake, he waved at them from the back of the wagon and returned the
bow. “My friends,” he declared, honestly pleased to see them. “I am
so glad to see that you are well.” He looked around the wagon
beneath him. It was empty. Why were they here? “I am sorry to say
that we have brought nothing for you today.”

He looked around confused
and found Valati Lareno. He was smiling like an idiot. We’ll see
about that, Dasen thought as his own grin formed. “We have come so
that the valati can provide a lesson. It is Teaching Day, and no
one should be denied the words of our savior and knowledge of the
great and all powerful Order he served.”

To Dasen’s surprise,
Valati Lareno smiled, nodded, and rose to stand beside him. From
Dasen’s experience, the ugly little man hated to speak in public.
He had been sure that delivering a lesson would be the last thing
he wanted to do, but he accepted the challenge as if it was what he
had planned all along.

“
May the Order continue to
guide and bless Lady Deena Esther,” the valati started, weak voice
rising as loud as Dasen had ever heard. “We have all seen Its power
working through her. She is our proof that It seeks to protect all
those who believe, that It is protecting us even when all else has
failed. But more than anything, she is proof that
WE are the Order
. It
works through our actions, through our faith, through our desire to
see Its will done.”

The crowd mumbled their
responses, but the lack of enthusiasm was wrought by a profundity
of emotion not a dearth. Tears ran down cheeks. Families clutched
one another, head bowed, hands rose as if seeking to feel the power
emanating from the god before them.

Dasen gulped.

The valati smiled. He
continued his sermon, going through the entirety of the ceremony
that marked the weekly lessons, and the people listened, they
responded as Dasen had never heard. They hung on every word, said
ever response as if promising their very souls, nodded and cried
and laughed. These people had not only seen the miracle. They had
been saved by it. The Order meant something more to them, It was
real, It had come to their rescue. It was no longer a distant
thing. It was as substantial as the woman standing before
them.

Valati Lareno finished his
lesson by describing all the ways the Order worked through average
people, every day. Rather than speak about the miracles performed
by their savior, the valati talked about the actions of the people
who surrounded him of their devotion and sacrifices. Rather than
talk about the miracles performed by Lady Esther in multiplying the
food they received, he spoke about the people of Gorin West who had
been giving up their meals.

“
And what is the Order’s
reward for those sacrifices?” the valati asked as his lesson drew
to a close. “What do they ask in return? Only that the Order’s will
is done. But how do they know that their sacrifice has been
worthwhile, that it has been received by the Order, that it has
succeeded in restoring us to the Order’s path?” He looked around
the crowd as if seeking an answer. “Faith. They know because they
believe, but we all know how difficult faith is to maintain when we
see only the hunger in our children’s eyes. Even Valatarian, as he
asked for the greatest sacrifices from his followers showed them
the result of those sacrifices, showed them how they were used to
defeat the Lawbreakers. And if those people had not seen that
proof, would their faith have carried them far enough to make the
Exile possible? I do not know the answer, but I know that
Valatarian did not risk such an outcome. He gave his followers
miracles to show them that the Order was with them. Should the
people of Gorin West be expected to have more faith than the first
followers of Valatarian? I ask you, should they rely only on faith
to keep denying meals to their families?”

“
What can we do?” a man
called from the crowd. Stirred from his reverie, Dasen found the
man. It was the same one who had seemed to lead the refugees that
first day. He stepped forward and addressed the valati. “We, every
one of us, are eternally grateful to those people. It was only
their generosity, their compassion that allowed the Order to work
Its will here. We owe them everything, but what can we
do?”

“
Feed them,” Valati Lareno
answered. “For a week, they have fed you. Now, you can return their
kindness.”

The people looked at each
other, mumbling and nodding. “Gladly,” the man said. “But we have
so little. You may take it all. It was never ours, but I am afraid
it will feed very few of them.”

“
It is the symbol not the
substance that is important. Give what you can. It will be
enough.”

And that was all that was
required. The people of the camp moved in groups to the wagon where
their meager stock of food was held. They grabbed bags of hard
bread, dried meat, cheese, and beans and brought them to the
valati. The guards fetched their own food and added it to the pile.
Even so, it was barely enough to cover the bottom of a single
wagon. The valati had it spread across the two so that it looked
like a truly meager supply, then with a few more words of thanks
from him and Lady Esther, they departed.

“
Hurry,” he said to the
driver as they rumbled back over the drawbridge. “Time is short. We
need to make it to the temple before the lessons are
finished.”

#

The bells rang to close
the lessons just as the wagons arrived at the base of the hill.
Ironically, it was only Lady Esther’s absence that provided her
with the time to climb that hill before the crowds had gone. People
streamed from the temple in the hundreds then milled in the
courtyard, held by the morning’s shocking absences and the need to
speculate about them with their neighbors. The fact that the
governor had not attended only added to the intrigue. Rumor and
conjecture flew, grew, and mutated until many were certain that
some great battle had taken place in the night between the Exiles
and the Order with the governor and the Lady Esther as the
proxies.

Dasen was sitting in the
driver’s seat of the coach now with Valati Lareno, feeling the
intensity of the rising sun as it beat on his wig and cosmetics. He
felt his stomach rumbling and fought to keep from wiping the sweat
from his brow as it ran down his forehead into his eyes. A few
hours from its height, the sun was already threatening to break the
string of cooler day’s they’d enjoyed throughout the week. Dasen
was not sure how he’d survive it.

The crowd was beginning to
disperse when the wagons crested the hill and entered the temple’s
expansive courtyard. The words “Lady Esther” rose from the crowd in
waves as small groups heard the name, turned to see, and repeated
it on to their neighbors. Soon, every eye was on Dasen and the
crowd was parting slowly around the wagons. Men doffed their hats,
women bowed, children pointed and stared as the wagon passed by.
Dasen smiled and nodded at as many as he could, even reaching down
to pat the head of children who were held up for his blessing. The
people mumbled between themselves, seeming to build on the rumors
they’d started.

Scanning the crowd for
Garth, hoping to catch a glimpse of Teth, Dasen marveled at the
number of people packed around him. The crowd filled the courtyard
in its entirety with still more issuing from the temple doors.
There were thousands. It appeared to be an even larger turnout than
the previous week when free food had been on offer. Dasen had no
idea how they had all squeezed in.
Come to
see if the saint would perform another miracle no doubt and
disappointed when she didn’t even show up
,
Dasen thought.
Good thing, they didn’t
leave early then.
If he knew Gian Lareno,
their wish would be fulfilled soon enough.

“
Lady Esther is sorry to
have missed the lesson,” Valati Lareno called as the wagons
maneuvered to the doors at the back of the temple, “but she
insisted that if we were not going to take food to the poor souls
at the camp, that we, at least, bring them the Order’s
lessons.”

The wagon came to a halt
and the valati rose from his seat to address the crowd that was
gathering around. With a gesture, Dasen joined him, towering over
the little man. “To our surprise, they gave us one. Though they
tremble still on the precipice of starvation, the people of the
camp saved back a portion of the miracle-wrought food that we took
them only yesterday. Rather than eat it today when no new food will
be arriving, they insisted that we return it to you as their only
means of thanks.” He looked to Dasen, who could think of nothing
more to do than nod.

“
I begged them to
reconsider,” he continued. “Though Lady Esther performed another
miracle in ridding their camp of the illness that had ravaged them,
though the Order has worked through her to create enough for them
to survive the week, the governor had reduced them to such a state
that they can ill afford to miss a single grain. I insisted that
they keep the food for themselves. I told them that though you also
know hunger, the knowledge that you are doing the Order’s work is
enough to sustain you.”

He stopped again at that
then turned to Dasen. “Lady Esther made me reconsider. She said
that there is balance in the Order. That those who receive must
also give and, thereby, see their thanks returned again and again.
Since the people of the camp have nothing else to give, she said
that this would serve as their thanks. She, who is closer to the
Order than any I have ever known, assured me that this is the
Order’s will, that by thanking you who made all this possible, they
are thanking It, and It will return that thanks.”

By this time, Dasen had
grown sufficiently accustomed to Lareno’s distortions that he
managed to keep from reacting to the bold-faced lie. The crowd, of
course, loved it. Their murmurs rose to a roar with the words,
“Order’s will”, “Lady Esther”, and “miracle” in extensive use.
Whatever the valati had in mind, the people of Gorin West were
ready to believe.

“
I am sorry to say, that
the people of the camp had only the barest amount to give,” Valati
Lareno continued. He held up one of the bags to show that it was
nearly empty. “Holding to our promise, we will give it out as we
have in the past, but I ask you to understand that you will each
receive very little. Please, form a line at the front of the
temple. We will open the doors when we are ready.”