Cheilin Saga ~ 12 The
Abbey at Samishaan 2
By Len Morgan
The Reverend Father Abbot was amused when Sister Constance confessed and begged to be relieved of the responsibility for her charge. When questioned she freely confessed what
had transpired including her perceived misconduct.
“Correct me if I am wrong. You were charged to see to all of his
physical needs?”
She nodded demurely.
“Physical needs would include correct bodily
functions, respiration, elimination, providing him with food, water, and
exercising his limbs?”
Again she nodded, unsure where this was
leading.
“And other functions of a more
intimate nature?”
She reddened visibly.
“Sister Constance, we are not prudes or a chaste order. That you have resisted making a personal liaison, with a Brother, for so long does you credit but I can see no fault in your handling of this matter. Sex is merely a bodily function. I cannot authorise your transfer for fulfilling your allotted task. Your request is denied, now I have work to complete, and you have your charge to attend too. We are pleased with your care and concern and recommend that you continue seeing to his welfare. Continue to experiment with his regime and try to encourage him to do more on his own behalf…”
At which point her emotions got the better of
her and she expressed a flood of tears, he supposed in gratitude, but who can
say? His eyes left her at that moment, he
began to shuffle papers to appear busy and signify the discussion was at an
end. When he looked up she was gone,
he smiled only just managed to stifle a fit of amused laughter. But her commitment was admirable.
Brother Ignatius had also taken his responsibilities very seriously. Of late he had taken to sleeping alongside the orb, in the covered garden, beneath the stars. He recounted his dreams, in the guise of his charge, as a person with great responsibility on his shoulders he acted, always in the best interests of the people. He communed with an off worlder, a strange man-like creature. He did not know what it was but knew it to be a power for good. When he relayed these dream images to the reverend Father Abbot, he was told they were probably just the machinations of an over inventive mind. Fanciful images conjured up in his efforts to make sense of the strange state in between dream and reality. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of removing Brother Ignatius from the orb, but decided against it and instead ordered him to sleep in his own room in future, away from the influence of the orb. As he had expected, the dreams ceased. He had considered sleeping next to the orb himself, to test its potency. But, after assurances from the good Brother that he had spoken to nobody, he resolved to assign Sister Constance to a night in silent vigil within touching distance of the orb. She was instructed to reflect on and resolve her inner turmoil. It would be an act of penance for her imagined wrongdoing. If he had really expected this to resolve the situation, he was sadly mistaken.
Brother Ignatius watched from the cell door as the empty shell of Aldor performed a complicated Kata designed to sharpen his reflexes, exercise every muscle and sinew in order to keep the body in peak condition. After a short while his movements became a blur, he was moving so fast the watcher became disorientated, certain it was an illusion. He shook his head in disbelief when his gaze returned to Aldor all movement had ceased. The pale blue eyes were directed at him, passive and unblinking. He opened the door and stepped in. The gaze was disconcerting, so he momentarily glanced away, to give himself respite or he would wilt. When he looked back the cell was empty.
Sister Constance gazed at the orb, into those unwavering eyes that mirrored her own. Such a pale ice blue she thought, not cold, but warm and welcoming; the pupils of her own hazel eyes grew large. She felt drowsy and after only moments she succumbed. She slept, dreaming of a boy groomed to rule, who discovered the decapitated body of a young woman he loved. He was accused of the crime and left staked out in the desert to die. In the morning she awoke, cheeks crusted with her own dried tears. His words in her mind…
‘It was not your fault, your family died because bad men attacked your farm. Had you barred the door, as you were told, they would simply have broken it down. It was your parent's time to return to the wheel of life and yours to survive!’
She shook her head and smiled, ‘It was not my fault’ she repeated to
herself. For ten long years, she had
subconsciously held herself responsible for the deaths of her two older
brothers and her parents, slain in a bandit attack.
When
she was ten, her responsibilities were milking and husbandry; she loved the animals
they were her friends. The last words her father said, as she slipped out the kitchen door to feed an orphaned calf
that was off its feed, were…
“Be sure to bar the door when you return
Emmiline.”
Hand rearing required a high degree of
patience, perseverance, and above all time.
She fell asleep with the calf draped across her knees and was awakened
by unfamiliar shouts and the smell of burning.
She hid in the hay until things went quiet but when the Barn caught fire
she herded its occupants out, hiding amongst them. The raiders had gone, the house was burned
to the ground, and she had survived and, thanks to her, so had the
animals. Her family all perished, but
what hurt her most was their refusal to show her the bodies.
Neighbours took her in, together with her
animals, treating her as an unpaid servant.
At the next conjunction, they selected many of her cattle, including her
calf, to provide the blood sacrifice for Bedelacq. Their cries of pain unlocked something in
her mind. Emmiline was suddenly able to read the thoughts of animals and
people. She was able to read the minds
of the family that had taken her in, and what she discovered of their
intentions determined her to leave. She
stowed away on a boat travelling upriver, from Tain Point in Bluttland to
After
a few months alone on the streets, she realised it would be advantageous to
join with others, so she beguiled one of the many orphan gangs that roamed the streets around the port area.
They were just a band of undernourished ragamuffins who worked together
because they were too small or too weak to survive alone. Their leader was a spineless bully, who preyed on the younger ones, claiming to be their protector. She got into his mind and controlled him. She took on the role of parent,
almost by default, years of husbandry had partitioned her mind and taught her to
think logically. She organised them
into three groups of four and sent them out to opposite sides of the city, to
increase their shared income. Several times
they were attacked by other groups who considered a particular area was their
exclusive preserve. Finally, they took
to attacking drunks leaving the riverside taverns but often, they had already
spent their money. Then she
discovered travellers were often just seeking something. Usually, it was the gratification of an
immediate need such as a bed for the night, somewhere to eat and drink, or the
company of a pliant young woman. She would
identify that need and, on the pretext of fulfilling it, would lead her mark to
where the gang lay in wait. As far as
the others were concerned, she displayed an uncanny ability to select and lure
easy victims to their ambush. For two
years it worked just fine. Nobody was
suspicious of her talent. The band of misfits prospered and grew. She never needed to get involved in the
messy business of robbing, and bruising their victims, she was the lure. She never waited around to see what they did
to him. Then, one day she entered the
mind of a street trader, a purveyor of charms trinkets, and potions but when
she tried to leave she found herself trapped.
She recalled being in a dark place for an indefinite period, like sleeping but in a non-dream state. Moreover, she found she was unable to sleep, which meant she was forced to occupy her mind, controlling and directing her own thoughts. Her mind was separated from her body, but she had no way of knowing that, she began to feel hot; the temperature increased and she started to perspire. She began to itch as though ants were crawling all over her. She tried to scratch but was unable to make physical contact. She started to scream and cry out in terror. She cried for help but there was no response. She tried to use her talent but the only mind she found was her own. She ranged the totality of her short life, but in particular the last two years. She reflected on the tricks she had used to entice gullible men to a place of her choosing. She remembered the illusion of power this gave her. At first, she was smug and self-congratulatory. Then she began to wonder how they fared with the others; some of whom were downright evil. She began to feel regret, then guilt. Just because she had not been in at the kill, as they so vividly called it, did not mean she was absolved of blame. She was as guilty as they were. She began to recall the faces of her victims, one by one. They looked accusingly at her mouthing the word 'guilty'. The good the kind, the lonely and considerate, the vicious and malevolent, all had wound up as her victims. All had motives for following her. All were viciously attacked and robbed and some almost certainly died.
She was separated from her body for just four weeks, during which time she relived her life over and over, going through a whole gamut of emotions until finally settling for an uneasy acceptance that things had happened and she had to live with the consequences. Now her eyes were open she resolved to conduct her life differently in future. When her mind and body were reunited she became a novice in the Samishaan order of Geoffe.
There were between five and eight new conscripts each year. At her joining ceremony, she was renamed Sister Constance, after one of the founder members of the order. A new name was appropriate and even desirable considering her conversion. In a sense, she was reborn, and from that moment she would be a new person. Sister Constance embraced the order wholeheartedly and for the next four years worked tirelessly to erase the shame of her past, and to assimilate their teachings. Then finally her devotion was rewarded, and she received her first charge. She was determined not to ruin this opportunity simply because of her physical attraction to the man. Then she was charged with observing the orb.
She had expected him to be self-centered and selfish like all the others she had come into contact with. He was not, and now, after four years, she felt truly reborn.
His words still rang in her ears. ‘It was not your fault.’
This man was no simple criminal of that, she was assured. He was sent by Geoffe. He was the one! As she thought on this matter a strong pair of hands reached past her, she recognised that wholesome clean presence immediately. She watched him take the orb in his sure hands and raise it above his head. She took a sharp intake of breath and came to her feet. Even as she did so she knew it was too late.
(to be Continued)
Copyright
Len Morgan
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