4.Kassir had no choice but to follow Bushir down dark corridors, towards where the strange chanting persisted, its notes unwavering and unchanging. Bushir was silent, and Kassir decided not to say anything, either. He did not want to unknowingly break protocol. They kept walking through the temple, looking neither left nor right. Kassir was becoming increasingly aware of the dark figures watching him from hidden corners. Their silent observing unnerved him. As they walked, the chanting grew louder. Now Kassir could discern words in the incessant murmur. He could not tell what they meant, though. They sounded familiar, but whenever he tried to grasp their significance, he found himself unable to do so.
Finally, Bushir stopped in front of a large hall. Kassir stood with him, gaping at what was in front of his eyes. He had never seen a chamber so large before. The ceiling was so high, he could barely glimpse its vaulted shape. The walls were made of some black stone that looked as if it had fallen from the skies. Thick columns adorned the hall and slabs of stone depicting the sun riding inside a winged chariot were everywhere.
Unlike the other places in the temple, the chamber had wide windows, letting the rays of the afternoon sun in. They shone on a large slab in the centre. A cup of pure gold and one of silver adorned with a blue gem were placed there. This had to be the Prayer Hall, of which everyone in the desert had heard. In there, the Sun Gods descended to inspire the Priests, telling them what laws to uphold and how to rule the desert people. That was also the place where, in the years when it rained more than once, a young priestess of the Rain Goddesses was sacrificed to the Sun Gods.
The chamber was not empty. Dozens of figures in black knelt in rows facing the large slab – the Altar of the Sun, as it was called. Beside it stood a tall man wearing golden robes. He was surprisingly young, but there was sheer determination on his face. His eyes were cold and empty, though, and when he glanced at him, Kassir had the impression that he was looking into the eyes of a man who had no soul.
Bushir stepped inside, motioning to Kassir to follow him. They walked past the rows of kneeling figures. Kassir could feel their eyes follow them as they approached the altar. They stopped in front of it and Bushir bowed to the golden-clad man.
“High Priest Adar,” he greeted. “Resplendent One, may I present to you Kassir of the village of Red-stones, a Light-tender. He now stands before you, requesting to enter the service of the Gods.”
Kassir stood with his head bowed, secretly bristling at Bushir’s words. He knew there was a way of saying and doing things, but he still did not like the way someone spoke for him, not giving him the chance of saying anything.
Wordlessly, Adar indicated to Bushir that his work was done. Bushir withdrew with a bow. Kassir remained standing in front of the altar, his eyes lowered. He knew he was not supposed to look at the High Priest until he was given permission. Adar inspected Kassir for a long time. In the end, he stepped away from the altar and approached the boy. He took Kassir by the chin and raised his head slowly. Once again, their eyes met. Close by, Kassir could see more clearly how expressionless his eyes were, without any flicker of life or warmth. Even his hand was cold, like the hand of a dead man. He suppressed a shiver.
“Welcome, Kassir,” Adar said, letting the boy go. “It is always good when a Light-tender joins our ranks. Your kind is most valuable. Many of the enemies of the Gods have been discovered by the diligence of those with your gifts.”
“I hope you will find me just as diligent, Resplendent One,” Kassir said. “I am willing to serve the Gods and the people of the desert in any way that I can.”
Adar’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly. He said nothing but turned Kassir to face the kneeling priests. His hands were on the boy’s shoulders.
“Here, brothers, is Kassir,” he declared in a firm tone that echoed against the stone walls of the chamber. “Here is one blessed by the Gods with keen sight and hearing, and he returns willingly to us to offer his services in gratitude. From now on, his life shall be dedicated to the Sun Gods and Rain Goddesses, and he shall be their humble servant. Welcome him in your midst, brothers.”
The priests raised their voices in welcome. The walls of the chamber shook. Kassir found no friendliness in the gesture. On the contrary, he felt as if he was being fettered to the priests and their ways, forced to be bound to them now and forever.
5.After his introduction to the Sun Priests, Kassir was taken to a small room where he could rest after his toils in the desert. He had accomplished much reaching this place, the priests told him, and he deserved a night’s rest. The next day Adar would explain to him his duties and how important his actions would be in keeping the people of the desert in the good graces of the Gods.
The stone room had only one bed and a lamp. It would be the first time Kassir slept alone. In the village, he had shared his bed with his younger brother and their sister slept in the same room with them. Now, the nearest person was separated from him by an impenetrable stone wall. The idea was both appealing and frightening. In many ways, he was beginning to feel lonely.
Kassir wondered what Tar and the others were doing. He missed all of them and doubted he would see any of them again. And even if it happened, things would be different. He would be a full-fledged Light-tender then. He would be treated differently. Yes, he thought gloomily, it would be a lonely life.
It would also be an exciting life, he reminded himself. He would see more of the desert than many of his people. A Light-tender had plenty of privileges as well as duties. It was ungrateful of him to think only of the disadvantages his condition brought to him. One did not do such things when it came to gifts from the Gods. He went to bed and fell asleep, dreaming about the new life he would be starting the next day.
He woke up the next morning fully rested, the last vestiges of his weariness all gone. His head felt clear now and it finally sank in, what he had been unable to comprehend the day before. He was in the Temple of the Sun Gods. He had made it. He had survived the desert crossing.
Kassir got up. He noticed new clothes were laid out for him on the bed. His old clothes were nowhere to be seen. He got dressed and stepped out of the small room but did not know where to go afterwards. Luckily, he did not have to make any decisions. As soon as he opened his door, a priest approached him. He must have been waiting outside for Kassir to make a move.
“Follow me, Light-tender,” he said.
Kassir was not being led back to the great hall. Instead, he was taken somewhere entirely different. He guessed the priest was leading him to Adar’s chambers. He and the High Priest would have a private talk about his future. He thought ruefully that they could have waited until he had eaten something.
Adar’s chamber was as small as the room Kassir had spent the night in. The walls, however, were adorned with golden tapestries that glimmered in the lamplight. It was like stepping inside the sun itself. Kassir blinked heavily, blinded for a moment. Adar watched him amused.
“Your eyesight is quite keen, I see,” he observed drily.
“You know it is,” Kassir spoke boldly. “I am a Light-tender after all.”
He heard the man that had taken him to Adar’s chamber gasp at the way he addressed the High Priest of the Sun Gods. At any other time, Kassir too would have been surprised by his own daring. But he had just been on a desert journey with caravan guards who did not mince their words. He still had to remember how to conduct himself in civilized company. Judging from the vaguely indulgent way Adar looked at him, the High Priest thought the same.
“Leave us,” he told his assistant.
The priest left with a bow. Wordlessly, Adar pointed Kassir to a low chair. He sat down, resolutely not looking at the bright walls.
“You should not be afraid to look at the brilliance of the sun, Kassir,” Adar told him.
Kassir’s eyes narrowed, surprised to hear that from the High Priest of the Sun Gods of all people.
“Wouldn’t that be irreverence, Resplendent One?”
Adar nodded shortly.
“For the simple folk, yes. But not for those in the service of the Sun Gods. Those of us who truly understand, we have to look them in the eye. It would be a sin not to. We have a right and an obligation to see them in all their splendour, however dangerous that might be to us.”
Kassir found himself not knowing what to say. No one else had put it like this to him before. And he was not sure he could claim to understand the mind of the Desert Gods. Adar eyed him with a vaguely condescending expression.
“Oh, but you will. If you want to be a good Light-tender, you will have to.”
Kassir gaped at the priest. He could not believe it. He had heard of such things, of course. The Sun Gods and Rain Goddesses offered many gifts. Heightened senses were just an example. There were also those who could read the thoughts of fellow men. And, apparently, the High Priest of the Sun Gods possessed such a skill. Adar’s mouth tilted upwards in a faint smirk when he realised Kassir guessed the truth.
“Indeed. It is not talked about – not outside the temple – but I have been gifted by the Gods – just like you. I have served the Sun Gods in many ways, some pleasant, others less so. I have grown to understand them. This is how I got this position. I am proof of the heights people like you and I can reach – if we are able to serve the Gods exactly as they want us to. Who knows? In years to come, perhaps you will take my place.”
Kassir’s attention piqued up at Adar’s words. Some of his previous pride and ambitions – much tempered by the desert crossing and Run’s death, but still present deep inside him – were aroused by the prospect. He thought he deserved respect, especially after his childhood. And who was respected more than the High Priest of the Sun Gods? Adar was living proof that it could be done. And, even though he was slightly nervous of the High Priest, Kassir decided then and there that he was willing to follow in Adar’s footsteps.
“What must I do?” he asked. “To serve the Gods, I mean. What do I have to do?”
Adar’s eyes twinkled.
“You are an eager one, I see. That is good. Many are hesitant at first. We cannot have hesitation within the ranks of the soldiers of the Gods.”
“Of course not. What must I do, then? What will my job be?”
Adar did not answer right away. He got up and started pacing the small room, taking slow and deliberate steps. Kassir watched him, barely containing his impatience. He refrained from asking the question again. Adar would answer him when he saw fit.
“Tell me,” the High Priest said in the end, stopping with his back to Kassir. “What do you know about the World Without?”
Kassir felt slightly cold. Carefully, he kept his mind blank. Adar could not find out that he had dreams about what was possibly the City of White Marble.
“I only know rumours that travellers tell us,” he answered calmly. “I have never been there myself, of course.”
He did not know if it was working. Adar still had his back to him. And perhaps that was a good thing. Perhaps he could not tell what Kassir was thinking if he was not looking at him.
“Of course,” Adar nodded thoughtfully, having yet to turn around. “And what do you think about the rumours you have heard? Could you say they were reliable?”
Kassir shrugged.
“I have no way of knowing, Resplendent One. Although I think merchants believe the more they impress us with wild stories, the likelier we are to buy their goods.”
Adar turned around then. He was faintly amused.
“In short, you do not know much about the World Without,” he concluded.
“No more than anyone else from the desert who has never been there.”
Adar eyed Kassir closely.
“Would you care to find out more?”
“Resplendent One?” Kassir asked half-fearful. “Do you intend to send me to the World Without?”
Adar gave a short bark of laughter.
“Definitely not. You are the last person we would send there. When the priests tell people to go to the World Without, it is a punishment, and it is forever.”
“Exile.”
He did not know why the word frightened him so much. Adar was right. He was a servant of the Gods. It was hardly likely that he would do anything that would warrant him to be sent into exile.
“We cannot stop people going to the World Without of their own free will, though,” Adar informed Kassir. “We do not really condone the practice and we try our best to limit the exposure, but we cannot put a stop to it completely. The World Without is a good place for trading. They pay heavy sums for what we have to offer them. And, in turn, they have some good merchandise themselves. The wine from the World Without, I am told, is particularly good. We also cannot stop people from the World Without from entering the desert, although we do keep a close watch on them and send them away as quickly as possible.”
Kassir looked up in surprise. It was the first time he heard of someone from the World Without entering the desert. Adar smiled knowingly.
“Of course, that is another thing the priests and priestesses try to keep secret. We do not want the news of foreigners here spreading from village to village. It would tempt people. Make them curious. And curiosity can be a dangerous thing, you know.”
Kassir kept silent. He did not agree with Adar. He knew he possessed a healthy dose of curiosity himself and, until now, it had not been a bad thing.
“You are young still,” Adar observed. “There are many things you might not understand, yet. But no matter. You will, eventually. The point, my dear Kassir, is that there is more contamination from the World Without than we would like. The people who travel there and those who meet strangers should be watched carefully. Their movements, their words should be reported to us at all times. I am not saying they are bad people. But they have come into contact with something that does not belong to us – with something that does not fall under the influence of our beloved Sun Gods and Rain Goddesses. You know, I presume, that those from the World Without do not even know the names of our protectors.”
Kassir nodded slowly. Adar’s previously impassive face was now lit by bright passion.
“The people who come in contact with the World Without, we need to know what they are doing and saying. They need our guidance more than anyone else in the desert, Kassir. Usually, we have the village priests report on their movements. But that is a flawed system. They might watch what they say in front of the priests. They might share what they feel with close friends and family, people they know they can trust, talking only in whispers. A Light-tender can pick up such whispers, Kassir. No one need even know he was there.”
Kassir frowned. He was beginning to understand what Adar wanted from him. It was not something he had expected. He used to think serving the Gods meant serving the people of the desert, too. He thought a Light-tender’s duties would be to help people hunt, slay shadow-bears for them, accompany them on desert crossings and protect them from what lurked out there. That was the job he was prepared to do.
“That is quite admirable,” Adar conceded to Kassir’s thoughts. “But then you would be helping the people only in their daily lives. What I am offering you is beyond that. In this way, you will be saving their souls. What could be better? What could be nobler? You will be the best thing that happens to these people. Most might never find out and, of those that do, many will not appreciate it. But glory will come to you in the end, Kassir. The Gods will see to that. If you serve them well, if you do exactly as they say, they will reward you.”
Kassir’s chest swelled. The picture Adar painted was an attractive one. He wanted to help in the best way he could. And his job sounded important. It sounded like the kind of job he had always longed for.
“I promise to do my best,” he declared formally. “I promise to do all that I can to please the Sun Gods and Rain Goddesses. And I promise to do all that I can to act in the best interest of the people of the desert.”
In the end, Kassir managed to keep only one of his vows. But he would always agree that it was the most important one, after all.
6.The next day Kassir was taken to a low chamber full of dusty, leather-bound books. It was the Library of the Gods. The name made the place more impressive than it actually was. The chamber was most of the time empty. Not many of the priests felt any need to enter it.
The room contained accurate maps of the desert – and a few of the World Without, too. There were books on the beasts that were a danger to desert travellers and how one could defeat them. There were works that told about the people from the World Without, and how one could recognise them and their tricks. Kassir was given a month to study as many maps and read as many works as possible. He had a month to familiarise himself with the desert and what awaited him on the road. After that time, he would leave for his lifelong mission in the service of the Gods.
“I will be travelling alone, of course,” Kassir said, trying his best to hide his disappointment.
“That is inevitable,” Adar said. “You belong to the Gods and not to other men. As do I, so I understand. Ours is a lonely job. From time to time, though, there will be others. There are Light-tenders who sometimes work in pairs. It makes jobs easier.”
Kassir chewed on his lip, thoughtfully.
“I do not think I have met other Light-tenders before, but I would like to. It would make me see I am not alone.”
There was not a single trace of sympathy on Adar’s face.
“You are not alone, Kassir,” he declared sharply. “The Sun Gods and Rain Goddesses walk always by your side. As they do with me.”
The thought sustained Adar and kept him going. But Kassir doubted it would ever be enough for him.
***
Over the next few days, Kassir barely ate or slept. He sat in the small library, his face buried in maps. The priests did not let him copy any of them. He was supposed to commit them to memory, even though there was a lot of information to remember. He concentrated mostly on the parts of the desert he did not know since he saw no point in looking at maps of the region of Red-stones. He knew that place, after all. It was highly unlikely he would be sent there. People knew who he was. Perhaps in later years, when he was grown-up, and no one would recognise him… not even Rashed and Malna… He firmly told himself not to think of such things.
Kassir also looked at maps of the World Without, though Adar had already told him he would never be sent there. He could not help himself. The World Without called out to him. Such curiosity might have been considered irreverent coming from a servant of the Desert Gods, but he could not deny its existence.
One day, Kassir uncovered a faded plan of the City of White Marble. He did not know how the map came to be in the hands of the Sun Priests. Probably from one of the foreign travellers Adar had mentioned. He knew he should not study it, but the images drew him to them. Kassir did not know how old – or how accurate – the plan was; he still memorised it as he should have learned the desert paths. He thought long and hard about the strange names written there – The Library of Knowledge, the Golden Feather Inn, the Silver Palace. He wondered about the story behind each name. It did not take long for him to start dreaming about the City of White Marble again.
Despite his dreams, he did not have the luxury of exploring the City of White Marble or any other place in the World Without as much as he wanted to. His attention had to turn to harsh desert paths under the deadly sun, to the few and far between oases and the settlements that appeared here and there as if in challenge of the cruel conditions. This was to be his domain. These were the people he was supposed to help.
It was lonely in the temple library. Kassir did not see anyone, except for the priest who came to bring him food and water twice a day. He barely acknowledged the boy. Adar did not visit him at all, and Kassir was grateful for that. He was afraid of Adar – not because of his authority but because of his abilities. The fear made Kassir feel a little ashamed of himself. He had resented all his life the villagers who treated him differently because of who he was. And now here he was, directing the same fear and mistrust at someone else, someone who, just like Kassir, had not asked for any gifts.
One day, four weeks after Kassir had been taken to the library, the priest who brought him food informed him that he would be leaving the next morning. There was need of a Light-tender in a village a week and a half west of the temple. Kassir’s apprenticeship was over. His real job was about to begin. That evening, he studied the road to the village. He would miss Tar. Someone as experienced as him would come in handy on such a journey. He would make a good guide. But there would be no guides for him on his journeys. Most of the time, it would be just him.
The door to the library opened suddenly. He looked up in surprise, half-expecting Adar. Instead, it was Rhea who walked in. He had thought she was no longer in the temple. The tribute caravan had left a few days before – without any goodbyes to him. He had been sure Rhea had left with them. But then he remembered Rhea was not part of the caravan. She worked for the Priests.
“Hello, Kassir,” she greeted.
He nodded nervously. Even in the desert he had not known how to take Rhea. There was a bond between them, true, created by the long empty roads. Such journeys brought people closer. He might have known he could trust her, but he was still taken aback by her. There was something about her – her outlandish looks, her fanatical devotion to the Sun Priests, her black-and-white view of the world – they all made him uneasy.
“Have you come to wish me a good journey?” he asked, trying to hide his nervousness.
Rhea shook her head.
“I hardly need to do that. I will be accompanying you on this mission.”
Kassir raised his eyebrows. As a rule, Light-tenders travelled alone. But this was to be his first mission. The Sun Priests must have decided to send Rhea along to help him – or to spy on him and make sure he did his job right. Pride stirred in him. He did not know which of the two options irritated him more.
“This is unexpected,” was all he had to offer.
“But good, I hope. I did not get much chance to talk to you in the desert.”
There was no hint of accusation in her voice, but Kassir wondered if she was not referring to the nights he had spent with the caravan guards listening to Run’s stories of the World Without. He hoped that she would not say something bad about Run. But she made no mention of him. She took a step inside the room and glanced at the papers littered all over the table. Kassir was glad he had not taken out any maps of the World Without that day. He would have had some explaining to do then.
“You do not have to look at too many maps,” Rhea announced. “I know the village well. I was born there.”
Kassir’s curiosity was woken by that.
“Your parents live there, then?”
Rhea shrugged, dismissively.
“My mother does, at least. I cannot say about my father. I do not know who he was.”
Kassir bit his lips. He knew the caravan guards would have had plenty to say about Rhea’s father and his less than human origins. Some had even said it to Rhea’s face. He noticed that Rhea was looking at him knowingly and suddenly felt ashamed.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I know what you are thinking, and you are not the first. Nor will you be the last, I am sure. Actually, I think my father must have been from the World Without, which is just as bad. My mother did a good thing, sending me to the Temple of the Rain Goddesses when I was even younger than you.”
Kassir nearly asked her if it had been bad. But he would not get the answer he was looking for. The Rhea of today was different from the frightened girl left among strangers in an unfamiliar place. She was proud of the work she did for the Desert Gods and glad that she had the opportunity to do it. If there had been a time of fear and homesickness, she quite likely no longer remembered it. Kassir wondered if he would ever become like her. How many years would it take anyway?
“I see her sometimes,” Rhea went on thoughtfully. “My mother, I mean. The priests allow me a few days every year to visit her.”
Rhea might have been a servant of the Priests, but she was not one of the Gifted. She did not belong completely to them, not the way Kassir did. He found that he envied Rhea her freedom, limited though it was. He knew she would be irritated if she found out. After all, she envied him his position just as much. At times, Kassir thought the Desert Gods might not be as infallible as everyone claimed them to be. Otherwise, why would they give powers to someone who did not really want them, instead of to those eager to serve?
“I am sure you will be glad to see your mother soon,” he said tonelessly.
Rhea gave a small shrug.
“I suppose. Although glad is maybe too strong a word. I am her shame, after all, and she is mine. It is hard to explain to someone who isn’t like us. I am not sure you would understand.”
Kassir did not understand the part about shame, it was true. He knew it had not been shame that had caused Malna to push him away in those later years.
“It must be hard,” he said in the end.
Rhea looked sharply at him. For a moment he was afraid he had said too much. Then, unexpectedly, her features softened slightly.
“Work for the gods usually is,” she said. “They do not make things easy for us. Maybe they are testing us. Or maybe they know our strength and do not give us any more than we can handle. But it is never easy.”
“You make it seem easy.”
“But I do not know what else to do. I do not know who else to be. I was molded into the perfect servant. I know nothing but devotion – to the Desert Gods and the priests. Even if I wanted to choose a different path – and I do not think that would be right, anyway – I would not be able to. Because I am afraid I can never be anyone else.”
It did not sound too appealing, not for somebody as fiercely independent as Kassir. And that was what he was supposed to become, what Adar and the other priests were hoping he would eventually be.
“It is a frightening thought.”
A flash of understanding brightened Rhea’s features.
“Maybe it is. But that is the lot given to us. There is nothing more we can do, you and I, save bear our burden with dignity. It pleases the Gods if we do so.”
With a curt nod, Rhea turned away and left. Kassir remained where he was. He was not looking at the maps. He was thinking that Tar’s guards had not really known Rhea - that he himself had not wanted to see beyond the mask she was taught to wear. And he felt somewhat humbled that tonight she had chosen to show him a glimpse of her true self.
Copyright Simina Lungu 2022
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