Hederick the Theocrat

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beat in time with the pounding. He felt young and powerful, tall
and vital as a vallenwood. The priests joined in. The Great Chamber rang with a chorus at least two
centuries old:
"Centuris shirak nex des.
Centuris shirak nex des.
Centuris shirak nex des.
We seek the truth of the New Gods."
"I invoke you, Omalthea," Hederick shouted over the voices. "I invoke you, Sauvay, once her
consort!"
"Centuris shirak nex des."
"I call to your daughter, Ferae, issue of Omalthea and Sauvay!"
The converts had joined in. Some of the newcomers couldn't keep from sobbing, Hederick noted
through slit-ted eyelids.
"Centuris shirak nex des."
"I cry out to you, Cadithal, consort of Ferae! Share your gifts. Offer us wealth!"
"Centuris shirak nex des."
"Come to us, Zeshun, queen of the night!"
"We seek the truth of the New Gods."
"Be with us now, New Gods, true gods! Speak to the faithful! I, Hederick, High Theocrat of Solace,
await your healing wisdom!"
The crowd sang the hymn again and again. Finally the room was still, its occupants waiting in an
expectant, breathless hush. Hederick pressed his hand to his chest until the diamond figure cut into
his flesh. Be with me now, Sauvay, he prayed.
Hederick took his time. He stared pointedly at one convert after another, holding each one's gaze
until he felt the person grow frightened, then he frowned and moving on to the next victim. When
the tension was at the breaking point, the New Gods would speak through him. The revelations
would commence. This had never failed.
Hederick beheld a young woman. She flushed deeply but dared not look away. He felt himself draw
power from
her. Then suddenly Omalthea, not Sauvay, was upon him, the first of the divine visitors tonight,
filling him with her strength. Hederick closed his eyes. He sensed, without seeing, the woman
collapse against the young man at her side as the High Theocrat's eyelids fluttered shut.
"Omalthea, arbiter of all virtue, is with us." To begin with the Motherlord of the Pantheons what
promise that held for the night! Hederick rocked back on his heels, smiling up at the ceiling. An
auspicious beginning. Then he frowned again. "Omalthea is displeased. For some of you talk of
virtue but talk more than you care to practice."
Hederick suddenly looked again at the young woman. She was pretty, with a face and form that
surely attracted the attentions of many men. Now her face was colorless, lips parted. Seeing
Hederick's gaze, her husband looked at her with horror.
"Some of you sin greatly ... and regularly ... and happily," Hederick intoned. "To sin against virtue
is to blaspheme Omalthea herself. Truly the Motherlord is angered."
Hederick touched his chin: the signal. Dahos, out of sight, touched a flame to a hair-thin line of
string. The flame coursed on its track beneath the aisle stairs, turned at the highest step, and shot
toward the statue of Omalthea that graced the top of the amphitheater. "Omalthea, be with us!"
At that instant, an explosion rocked the room. Red smoke billowed from the base of Omalthea's
statue. Smelling of burned metal, the cloud spread over the room.
The young woman gave a cry and fainted. Her husband let her slip unchecked to the marble floor.
Smoke and noise did wonders for increasing people's faith, Hederick thought. It was all perfectly
acceptable in the service of the New Gods. The people demanded the spectacular.
The explosion over, he let his gaze rove toward a man in the first row whose face wore a decidedly
self-satisfied expression. The man, probably a merchant, wore silk hose, billowing silk shirt, and a
fine leather doublet tooled with griffins; the splendor of his outfit matched the arrogance of his
expression. Hederick pressed the dragon to his breast and waited for another spirit to inspire him
Cadithal's, this time.
"Cadithal, God of Wealth, is with us. He is pleased at our generosity this evening." Hederick's voice
was practically a whisper, yet the room was so still that every word was audible, even to the last
row, he knew. The smug-looking man was smiling and nodding, chin outthrust. "And yet..."
Hederick drew out the words as he stared at the sinner. The man's smile faded.
"And yet. .. Cadithal, consort of Ferae, Goddess of Growing Things, is unhappy tonight. For there
are some here ..." Hederick let the suggestion trail off meaningfully. He stood in the gods' stead
now; he was imposing and terrifying and godlike. "There are some tonight who remain miserly,
who think the New Gods can be fooled by a 'considerable' gift measured in mere steel coins, but a
gift that in reality amounts to a pittance of what ought to be contributed."
The well-dressed man whom Hederick had targeted slouched as if trying to make himself smaller.
"What a cruel, cruel joke to play upon the gods and upon one's own soul," Hederick said softly,
"and upon the souls of one's family." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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