Book 2 The Gods of Light and Liars

Chapter 14: Fires that Burn

The Archon of Light pulled her from the tent, silent behind his mask's security. She envied him that ivory board, because she was sobbing hysterically. And she'd done it in front of the woman torturing that poor man to death. And for what? Refusing her.

"Be at peace," the Archon of Light said. "Be at peace."

"She killed that man," Hawk said. "She just...pulled out a blade and—"

"He'd questioned her will. Which normally would not be lethal, but I'd needled her too much. I'd misjudged her wrath, and where it would go. And now the whole tent is going to reek of holiness—do not repeat those remarks. The stench of sacrifice is the greatest of perfumes, exet, exet."

"I screamed."

"As did half of her green robes. The guardians of the Earth are best known for their ability to hold back screaming families. They offer the most sacrifices, for the Earth is a benevolent Mother, and must be respected better than our own blood. And for every child who screams, every warrior who would storm the holy places and pull the altars down, there is a devout man to hold him back...and a man thirsty for heretic blood stands behind them both. What I find curious, Hawk, is that there are a dozen volunteers for every unwilling sacrifice. Here, today, there are enough fools in robes—I mean honored penitents, yes, honored, and they could keep the blood flowing for twenty four hours. I have seen it done during disaster and hellstorm. Twenty four hours of men and women, and their children too, lead singing to the altars of the Earth—even the Air and Water, if they are invoked."

They were well out of the stinking, smoking, gloriously beautiful silk tent. It was mostly the Archon. She looked around and saw dozens of other people standing about in little clusters, sobbing. Most of these were white robes, but there were more than a few green ones. These were sitting on the ground, almost screaming. One girl seemed to have clawed at her own face.

"How can anyone do this?" Hawk whispered.

"I am told that the first time human blood was spilt for a God was when Hadaras, the daughter of a great merchant king, was given in marriage to another great merchant king, who happened to be older than her father. So she swore her life and maidenhead to Illyris, in the hope that the God would claim what was Hers and spare Hadaras from being married.

"Illyris was less than pleased about being dragged from her own city to some god-forsaken patch of road, and she told the girl that the only use she had for a virgin was as a sacrifice by fire and light, with the ashes fed to Her Waters. Hadaras was given a choice: Marriage or fire. She chose fire."

"But did she really choose it?" Hawk said.

"The Archon's records are better than legends or stories. It wasn't a marriage. It was a land dispute. Hadaras was his oldest child, the other land baron had a son. Illyris first offered that the children be wed together, so the land dispute would be solved by marriage. But the blood was bad. So instead Illyris said that the first to sacrifice their child in her name would get the land. I am told that both children's blood was spilled over logs, but Hadaras's father moved faster.

"I tell these stories to remember their names. Hadaras was only twelve, according to our records."

"And no one revolted." Hawk whispered.

"On the contrary. They began bringing their unwanted children, bastards, orphans, even the elderly, and slaughtering them on the stones of every Temple. It started with Illyris, who was disgusted. But when her temple ran red with blood, the others envied her, and whispers went through Fire, Air, and Earth that the blood gift was the sweetest of all. And soon there was such a loss of life that the blood-gift had to be forbidden amongst men. Only the Archons are allowed to kill." These last words were bitter again.