Book 2 The Gods of Light and Liars

Chapter Sixteen: The Pavillion

This didn't last for long. A few moments before her panic peaked, a green-robe came for Hawk. This one seemed like a timid child, who looked at the treats Hawk had gleaned from her Archon with some envy. Somehow, a great deal of these spilled, to the glee of at least one round-eyed girl. Several others appeared and joined the first, and their laughter made her feel better.

She felt a different, dancing sort of emotion here, on the fringes of holiness. There was no risk of the Earth-Archon seeing anyone here, because there was little beauty out here. The finest cloth was in her pavilion. Here was a girl with one leg, dancing with a golden ribbon. Hawk gave her a sweet because it felt like the thing to do, and the poor thing scampered off singing a song to the goddess. There were four more hurt and broken people within reach, a woman and child in rags, an elderly creature rendered genderless by starvation, reaching with a bowl tied to a stick. Hawk gave them a double portion of bread.

What amazed her wasn't the neglect of the preists. The archons and their acolytes. That was to be expected—was, in fact, a requirement of this phenomenon, that the face of God's representatives be turned away and blinded. The pavilion grew as Hawk watched. The beasts of burden were struck by this master, by that one, and groans of pain echoed through their field. Another banner would be raised towards the God, another wall erected in Her service. And beneath it danced a girl with one leg, singing off-key prayers in the hope of a miracle. One of the workers got too close to her. She tripped and fell into the mud and got back up, this bright little child with her golden ribbon, and kept to dancing and laughing. And inside the pavilion would be a thousand perfect bodies with a thousand perfect, practiced dances. Could they equal the movements of this one precious child? Could they rival the beauty of her golden ribbon?

What was the purpose of a temple that could not see its most precious treasure was dancing outside of its walls?

What was the point of a God who could not see them?

"Ah. There you are," Her Archon said, and crossed over. "Well. I bent the knee well enough to find her good side. We'll be seated near enough to her to see the show, but not so near that she'll remember us when she's wrathful. What are you looking at?"

Hawk wiped at her face. She must have been crying, for some reason. "I'm looking at the children. There's a lot of them and they look sick."

"Ah. Yes. There always are. Beggers for alms, or for a want of better chores. And some...well, some will for more and won't get it. Our Gods value perfection, and that's not for such at these. Did you give them bread?"

"Yes," she said.

"Then you've granted the prayer they had today. Perhaps they will stay sated until after we've left tomorrow. Then they'll be taking the pavilion down. It is because the Temples don't care for the work, but it will change the lives of the people around us. Is that not good?" and the Archon looked to her as if it were a real question one could ask, and as if the answer could be anything other than yes.

And now it was back inside the pavilion of green and gold, on the Archon's arm. They were greeted with a shower of flowers and strips of ribbon. The Archon collected a few of these with his free hand, so Hawk did the same, catching and coiling them up for favors. Probably valuable in this society. She remembered vaguely reading about how ribbons were once valuable. There were huge columns of flowers, rose facsimiles, cala lilies, something like geraniums. All close to the real plant, but not really. It was a daisy if you had drawn a daisy a thousand times from reference, each painting referencing the last, a copy a thousand times removed from its original. Wreaths of these Not-Daisies were given to Hawk and the Archon, and the Archon wore his, so Hawk did too. The Archon walked to an array of food and made a few motions blessing it, so Hawk collected gifts aimed in his direction and kept him from being interrupted. She watched the Earth-Archon do the same, pouring blessings of her God on the food, while her own lackey fielded all interlopers. Finally, at some signal Hawk did not see or understand, all the musicians began to play with harp and horn and decorated drum, and the rest of the tent fell on the feast while the holy ones—the Archons and their lackies, which Hawk supposed included herself—fell back to a set of cushions. Hawk and her Archon made their way towards a pair of white upholstered divans, with a white silk blanket each and nothing else.