4.That night, Kassir lay in his bed, staring wide-eyed at the low-beamed ceiling. Ranar was snoring peacefully on a mattress beside him. His conscience was clear. The ghosts of all the people he had reported on, all the people he had sent to death, did not trouble his dreams at all. Kassir, however, could not sleep. His thoughts were all in turmoil, making him physically ill. All the pride he had felt ever since he found out what he was from the priest in Red-stones village was now fading away like ashes in a strong wind. There was no glory in what he was doing. There could never be any glamour when you were just an executioner’s tool.
And no one had seen fit to tell him. Perhaps they thought he already knew. Perhaps they wanted to wait a few years, until his unwavering loyalty to the Desert Gods was proven without question. Or maybe they intended to keep it hidden from him for as long as possible, knowing he would never like it. Adar surely knew. It had to be the reason why he had tried to discourage Kassir from helping the people of the desert. Because he did not work for them. He did not really know who he was supposed to serve, but he was sure of one thing: he had not been acting for the good of the people.
Kassir bit his lips. He did not know what he was feeling. He wanted to cry and scream and – terrible and blasphemous as it sounded – curse the Gods and Goddesses into oblivion for bestowing him with such gifts and then allowing them to be used in such a manner.
Most of all, he remembered the wealthy village that had been wiped out, its people all probably dead. Its neighbours said it was the will of the Gods. But he knew now the Gods would not have committed such an act if he had not sent a message to Adar, telling him about the village master’s words and the three objects from the World Without kept like relics in the temple. The priests must have decided to purge the village completely. And Kassir had played a crucial part in its destruction.
Kassir shivered. He did not know what to think anymore. He did not know what to believe. He was responsible for the death of so many. His hands were stained with blood, and he doubted he would ever be able to wash it off completely. And how many more would come? How many more executions would he take part in if he kept doing what he did?
But no. There would not be any more. Things had to change. He would no longer be the puppet of the priests. He would preserve life in the desert, instead of sending people to their doom. And he would start that very night.
He glanced uneasily at Ranar. He was fast asleep. Light-tenders could wake up at the smallest sounds, though. It was difficult to sneak off when one was near. But Kassir remembered that day when Ranar had visited Red-stones. He had told Malna that he allowed himself to fall into a deep sleep in villages – a luxury he ordinarily denied himself. He would not wake up, not until the morning and by then Kassir’s work would be done. Moving slowly, Kassir got off the bed and went to his pack. He always kept parchments there for whenever he needed to send messages to the Temple of the Sun Gods. He started writing. He had torn up three parchments before he finally had a message he found satisfactory.
“The priests are after you,” he wrote. “They want to punish you and they will kill you both if they find you here. If you value your lives, you will make for the World Without as quick as you can. Be careful what you say around others – there might be Light-tenders about.”
Kassir wanted to add an “I’m sorry” to the message, but in the end decided against it. There was no adequate apology for uprooting a young girl and sending a barely healed traveller on a long and perilous journey. There could be no wiping out of all the other deaths Kassir had contributed to over the past three years, either.
But perhaps there was a way to better the future. And Kassir was willing to endure years of torture if it could somehow lead to something that would make up for his sins as a Light-tender.
5.Kassir and Ranar left the next day. Kassir did not stay to find out if the two lovers would take his warning to heart and prepare to run away. It was too risky with Ranar still there. Outside the town, Ranar graciously offered Kassir to accompany him for a while longer. It would help assuage their loneliness, he said. Kassir, however, politely declined. He was lonely most of the time, but he did not want to be anywhere near Ranar. He did not want to be near any of the servants of the Gods, after what he knew.
He was also sure Ranar would never approve of his next destination. Kassir intended to make straight for the Temple of the Sun Gods. He would get there long before the Festival of the Sun – at a time when Light-tenders had no business being there at all. It was a grave offence, but he figured that what he had to say would be graver still – so it did not matter. After all was done, his fate would probably be sealed anyway.
Kassir walked for many days, heading deeper into the desert. He felt as if a will stronger than his own was urging him forward, taking him ever closer to the Temple of the Sun Gods. He was so taken in by the sensation, he did not have time to be afraid. He knew he was playing a dangerous game. His life might very well be in jeopardy. But, since he had caused the death of so many, perhaps his own death at the hands of the Sun Priests would bring some balance into the world.
The days passed quickly, and he finally found himself gazing out at the blackened walls of the Temple of the Sun Gods. He no longer felt humbled by them, although he thought the building was as terrifying as ever. It was, he knew now, a lair of tyrants who casually dealt death as a punishment, without pausing to get acquainted with the people they were controlling. He did not know whether the Desert Gods or the Priests were more to blame. But at that moment, he could hardly respect any of them. He felt that both the Gods and the Priests had failed him – and failed the people in their charge as well.
The novice at the gates gaped at Kassir when he caught sight of him.
“What in the name of the Gods are you doing?” he snapped. “This is not the time for you to be here.”
Kassir held himself firm. He had long decided not to be intimidated by any of the priests. He was not going to start now by letting their latest novice order him in such a manner.
“My message is for the High Priest alone,” he said firmly. “I have urgent things to speak with him and I cannot afford to wait until the Festival of the Sun. You will let me in, lad, and you will do so now.”
The novice hesitated. His eyes grew wide. While it was true that, as a Light-tender, Kassir was within his right to give a novice orders, no one could cast aside the decrees of the Priests so wilfully.
“I cannot let you in, Sir,” he insisted in a panicked voice. “If I do that – they might sacrifice me at the next year of drought.”
Kassir softened. He looked at the boy, who was much younger than him. He did not know why he was there – perhaps he came, like Rhea, from a questionable background, perhaps his parents had too many mouths to feed. Quite likely, he had not asked to be there. He was just as much a victim as the rest of the people of the desert.
“Do let me in,” he insisted in a kinder tone. “I promise that what I have to tell Adar is bad enough. After I am done, he will be so furious with me, he will forget about you altogether.”
In the end, the novice bit his lips and moved aside. Kassir nodded his thanks as he passed him. But the boy refused to look at him.
Kassir walked the dark corridors now familiar to him. As before, he was aware of figures watching him from hidden corners. He could sense their agitation at his daring. For once, he did not care. They could come with him to Adar if they wanted to hear what he had to say. But they would be unable to stop him.
Only when he reached Adar’s chamber, did his nerves start to fail him. Adar was inside. Kassir could hear him. Perhaps he knew Kassir was there. The Gifted were usually aware of each other and Adar was more talented than most. Maybe he had known Kassir was coming ever since the Light-tender decided to do so – and maybe he also knew why.
He pushed the door open and walked in. Adar was sitting at the table. He looked unchanged. His eyes flashed when he saw Kassir. Then, surprise quickly turned to scandalized indignation.
“This is highly irregular,” he choked. “It goes against all the decrees of the Gods. It’s a punishable offence to be here when it’s not your time.”
Kassir held his head high.
“What I have to say cannot wait six months. Resplendent One, I wish to be relieved of my duties. I can serve the Gods no longer.”
Adar sprang up at that, his eyes blazing. For a moment, he looked about to strike Kassir. Then he abruptly composed himself and fell back into his chair. His face was once again cool, no hint of life in it, save for his eyes. They burned with fury.
“You do not leave the service of the Gods. That is one of the worst sins one of the Gifted could do. The Gods have blessed you, Kassir, do you not understand? It is your duty to return the favour – to stand by them no matter what.”
“Not when my gifts are used to hurt the people of the desert.”
He allowed Adar to look into his eyes – into his mind. Adar saw all there was to see there, although Kassir hoped he had managed to keep secret that he had warned off the two lovers from the Hidden Town. He did not know if they were out of the desert yet. Adar shook his head, regret flashing briefly on his face.
“Since the beginning I feared your… affinity for the people of the desert,” he commented ruefully. “And the Gods are my witnesses that I tried to cure you of it. I saw the potential in you, Kassir. Your talents are great. You are the best of the Light-tenders, young though you are. And your personality shows you have the strength to do great things. You have the look of one the Gods would entrust with an important job. For a long time, I thought I could choose you as my successor. I still do. Renounce your foolish ideas here and now and they will be forgotten. I am even willing to overlook your arrival at a forbidden time. Nothing more will be said if you stop this madness.”
“And if I do not?”
Adar’s eyes were hard as flint.
“There will be consequences. You should know by now there are always consequences when acting against the Gods – or speaking ill of them.”
“I would not be here if I didn’t know that.”
For a second, Adar looked about to start pleading.
“What shall it be then, Light-tender? Will you continue on our side? In many ways, we are helping the people of the desert. We are keeping the place stable. There is no violence, no outside influences, no dangerous ideas. There are only the decrees of the Gods, and with them we keep the peace. Stay and keep the peace with us, Kassir. Your reward will be beyond your wildest dreams.”
There was a time when Kassir would have been tempted. There was no chance of appealing to his desire for fame and respect now. Those longings had vanished as soon as Ranar made it clear what the job of Light-tender was truly about. Kassir was surprised Adar was desperate enough to attempt this approach.
“If you can really see inside my mind, Resplendent One, then there is really no need for me to voice my thoughts aloud, is there?”
Adar stood up.
“There isn’t,” he said quietly. “Very well. If this is how you want things to end – so be it.”
6.Kassir was taken to the dungeons deep beneath the Temple of the Sun Gods. He was left there in a small damp cell with no light and little air. He wondered if that was to be his death. It certainly fitted the newly-discovered cruelty of the Sun Priests. But no, he knew it would not be that easy. What he had done was unprecedented. He was a servant of the Gods. They never turned against their masters. He would have to be made an example of. Whatever they would do to him, it would be public, so that other servants of the Gods would be discouraged from taking the same actions.
He did not know how long he was kept in the cell, while Adar decided what to do with him. He was sure it was more than a week. During that time, the only living being he saw was a wizened priest who brought him food and water once a day. He never spoke to the prisoner. He did not even look at him. Eventually, they came for him. Kassir had almost forgotten by then that there existed a world beyond the grey walls of his cell.
He was taken to the Great Hall of the temple. It was the same place where he had been greeted so enthusiastically when he had come to offer his services to the Desert Gods. The same priests that had cheered for him then were now surveying him grimly, disgust barely hidden on their harsh features. Kassir was not one of them anymore. He was a mistake, an anomaly that should not have existed in the ordered world of the Desert Gods. And he had to be dealt with before his heresies spread to poison the minds of others.
Once again, Adar stood in front of the altar. His face was carved in stone, his eyes lifeless. He could have been one of the Sun Gods himself, so removed did he seem from the passions of mortal men. He did not look at Kassir, as if gazing upon a sinner was beneath his dignity.
“Light-tender Kassir, former resident of the village of Red-stones, you were promised to the Desert Gods long before your birth. You were given magnificent gifts in exchange for your service. And for three years you have used these gifts well. The Sun Priests are grateful for your services – with your help, we have foiled many plots from the World Without. You helped us know where the dangerous influences were, and so we were able to eliminate them. What have you to say to that?”
Kassir held his head high. They might paint him as an ungrateful traitor. But he had every intention of showing them just how proud he was of his treachery.
“The only thing I have to say is that I regret my gifts. I regret the way they have been used. I might have done good work, as you say, but I take no pride in it. Every plot I have supposedly uncovered, I am sorry for it. I am sorry for all the innocent lives I have helped you ruin. If this indeed is the work of the Desert Gods, then I want no part in it.”
He had the satisfaction of seeing Adar’s mask crumble briefly. For one moment the granite impassivity vanished, allowing anger to shine on his god-like face. The wrath did not bode well for him. But in that hopeless hour it was worth it. It pleased him to know he had struck such a chord, that he managed to shake even the remote Adar.
At Kassir’s words, a scandalized murmur arose from the ranks of the priests. No doubt they were talking about his punishment and hoping it was the harshest they could devise. It was then that his reserve began to crumble. This was a road with no return. Unless he repented now and took back all his harsh words against the Priests and the Gods, the Sun Priests were entitled to do their worst to him. And he still remembered the village from the oasis. He could see in front of his eyes the deserted streets with the half-levelled houses. If they could strike down an entire village, who knew what they were capable of doing to him?
The furious whispers ceased. The priests now stood as stone statues in the vast ancient chamber. Watching them, Kassir bit his lips. A shiver ran through him. During his captivity, he had stood firm and brave. But now that his final judgement was approaching, he was not sure he could see this through.
It was then that he felt Adar’s searching gaze on him. For the first time, the High Priest was looking straight at him. He must have sensed him wavering and was drawing satisfaction from it. No doubt he planned to use it to his own advantage.
“Is this your final decision?” Adar asked, and his voice was mellow. “Think carefully. If you admit your mistake, if you repent and ask the Gods and Goddesses for forgiveness, we will be lenient. You will be punished, for I am afraid we cannot overlook your transgressions. But we will show you as much mercy as we can.”
Kassir hesitated. Adar was standing in front of him with his hand outstretched, ready to lead him back into the light. And he yearned to answer. What was he doing, anyway? What was the point of his protests? They would never be enough to change the ways of the desert. Why should he keep trying?
“Come back to us,” Adar pressed on, kindly. “We are not without mercy. We are not the monsters you suddenly believe us to be. We only ever act in the best interest of the desert. We are only trying to preserve order in what would otherwise be a chaotic place. The desert would be much worse without our rule.”
And, just like that, the spell was broken. In his attempts to persuade Kassir, Adar overreached himself with his words. Once again, Kassir recalled the day he entered the deserted village and looked upon its ruins. Only this time it was not terror that took hold of him, but anger.
“You say you are not monsters. What are you, then? You slaughtered an entire settlement. Were those not the actions of monsters? Or what about your decision to send someone to death even when he was willing to adopt our laws and our Gods – and to also punish an innocent girl whose only crime was to fall in love with him? Let me say nothing of the law that leaves merchants exiled in an unknown place, barred for ever from their homes and their families if they exceed the designated time spent in the World Without, even by a day! You talk of lenience, but I am not sure you know the meaning of the word.”
Dead silence reigned in the wake of Kassir’s words. If at first the priests had been indignant, now they were cold and deadly. He knew that his latest accusations had sealed the door for ever. He had no hope now. He looked at Adar defiantly. The High Priest recoiled slightly, as if Kassir was a dangerous snake that needed to be stopped. He recovered quickly, though. He became remote once again.
“Very well,” he stated coldly. “Let it not be said that we did not offer you a chance to redeem yourself. You refused to take it. Now all that is left is for me to pronounce my judgement.”
He paused. Kassir could feel his heart beating so hard, it was trying to escape his chest. He did not want to die in the dark chamber. He wanted to see the world outside once more and feel the hot sun on his face. He hoped that, if they executed him, it would not be inside the walls of their temple.
“As I tried to tell you before, we are not cruel,” Adar went on. “If we were, we would devise the worst punishment we could think of, without caring who you are. But we cannot do that. Not to you. You have helped us much, Light-tender. You have uncovered plots that would have been devastating, left undiscovered. We must take this into account. We must show you gratitude. Had you kept to the right path, this gratitude would have led us to make a High Priest out of you one day. I did tell you on our first meeting that I saw great potential in you. But you insisted on choosing this madness instead. And the only way we can show our gratitude now is by keeping you alive. Had you been anyone else, we would have put you to death here and now.
“Here is my judgement. You have six months to depart from the desert. You will make for the World Without, where you will be exiled, in accordance with our laws. From then on, you will no longer be Kassir. You will be forbidden to say your name out loud, or the name of any of the desert people. You will not call out to the Sun Gods and Rain Goddesses, nor may you pray to them henceforth. If you are still within the borders of the desert after six months, or if you ever return, you will be put to death. Do you understand our judgement, Kassir Light-tender?”
Kassir swayed. His throat was dry, and he heard blood roaring in his ears. He was afraid he was going to faint. He took a deep breath and nodded, in a daze. He had expected to die. Instead, he was being sent into exile. He would never see the desert again. He would no longer be Kassir. Adar might say he had shown leniency. To Kassir, it felt as if he had been dealt the greater punishment.
Copyright Simina Lungu 2022
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