Old Habits

4 - Equality

They had walked from the Palace. Father Abaye had half-expected the King to order the court brought closer, given that the weather hadn't improved, but the rain seemed to avoid him. Given Abaye's own feelings about his ruler, the monk wouldn't have been surprised if the weather itself was intimidated. Malkior had that effect on the world.

The surprise came in what the King did next. It wasn't that he strode into the courtroom in the middle of a trial, without prior warning. It wasn't that his presence commanded instant silence. That, of course, was normal. What he filled the silence with, on the other hand, was anything but.

An apology.

"Good morning, Justice Deems. I regret having to interrupt your work in such a manner, but this court is hereby adjourned sine die. Ms. Tabun, we must concede, is correct. Gross inequalities have been allowed to fester in this city, and I can ignore them no longer".

Abaye gaped. He didn't have to do this; the King was answerable to nobody, even if his actions were often questionable. If the people had ever given him a mandate, he'd have tossed it aside. He didn't need one. He didn't have to listen to the people's opinions, which was probably an impossible task anyway.

You couldn't throw a stone in Lydelia without hitting at least ten opinionated protesters, triggering another twenty to campaign for the abolishment of stones, and inspiring another thirty to fight for your freedom to throw small geological objects of your choice. Abaye considered voicing his uncertainties, one leader to another, but the King must have read his mind.

"Father, the reasons for my decision are for me to know, and for you..."

"Yes?" Abaye offered.

"...and for you to not know", Malkior finished bluntly. "As it stands, I am the monarch here. I am able to make the Justice Deems' decision for him. I am able to make Ms. Tabun's decision for her. I am able to make your decision for you. Do not question whether I am capable of making my own."

It wasn't that Father Abaye felt that the King had crossed a line. This sort of behaviour was nothing new. The King crossed lines when he wasn't busy going over tops, or beyond pales. It was probably, the Abbot considered, one of the perks of the job. Being the physical embodiment of law was probably all perks, mind you. King Malkior could have all of the lines rounded up and executed if he wanted, so they'd probably learnt to tolerate a little crossing.

But, until now, he'd never interfered with the running of the Monastery. Yes, of course there'd been that business about the tax: religious organisations had been made exempt from taxation in Lydelia, and many businesses had suddenly and convincingly presented the case that they worshipped money. Profit, they argued, was their Prophet.

King Malkior had pointed out that, historically, it had been the job of the dominant religion in the area to stomp out any inconvenient heretics, and made the Abbot responsible.

After much begging and pleading, Abaye had persuaded the businessmen to stop being difficult, please. It had meant sacrificing a large part of the Monastery's East Wall as advertising space, but these were modern times, and wasn't sacrifice what religion was all about, really? At least now the Church could claim to be the only institution offering escape from both death and taxes.

This Tabun girl, though, was something different.

"Father, you believe in an omnipotent God; do you not?" the King continued.

"Yes, your majesty."

"And yet you follow the state's every command, even when it contradicts your usual doctrine?"

"I suppose so, yes."

"Why? Surely you do not fear me more than an all-powerful deity? Surely mortal law cannot compare to, let alone contradict, the immortal?"

Abaye thought about this. 

Firstly, though omnipotent, said deity was also omnibenevolent. He forgave. The state did not. Secondly, his religion allowed free will. The state did not. Thirdly, many of the scriptures and their rules were subject to a certain degree of interpretation. When the King sent round his private guards, however, the scope of interpretation was rather limited. They could be astonishingly clear with their commands, and you wouldn't forget them in a hurry, either.

Out loud, he mumbled something about there being complicated theological reasons, incomprehensible to the untrained mind. The King nodded in approval.

"Then that is settled. Regardless of their nature, if you already have several reasons to obey my commands over even your most sacred beliefs, you will not trouble me today to provide you with more! You will take Ms. Tabun into your care. You will treat her as any other priest in such circumstances. Is this understood? I can see that it is. Good day to you both."

That was that, thought Abaye. It was settled, simply because the King had said so. But it was now up to him, as Abbot, to ensure that it remained settled. It was up to him to deal with all of the people who would inevitably become unsettled. The Tabun woman, for her part, didn't look particularly pleased. All he knew of her was that she disliked the monastery, and that she fancied herself a rebel. Neither of those attributes were typically rewarded, and yet the King had given her everything she had asked for. Who, then, benefited here? Anybody? What was Malkior planning? Anything?

He forced himself to remain calm. Abaye knew that he had a tendency to panic when situations seemed out of his control, and he'd developed coping mechanisms. Predominantly these consisted of going into empty rooms and whimpering until the stress went away. Malkior, though, always threw him. Partially because he was the man, the strong leader that Abaye had always aspired to become. The monarch did effortlessly what it took Abaye weeks to rehearse, and this did little for his self-belief.

A deeply religious man, Abaye could have unwavering faith in ancient legends and miracles, but when it came to his own abilities he had always struggled to have any faith at all. Was the King so confident because he was in power, or had he held onto power because he was so confident? Repeated attempts to work out Malkior's secret, and the subsequent repeated failures, only added to Abaye's fear of the monarch.

The Abbot's discomfort around the King was partially because of that. It was also partially because the King somehow knew how he felt, and adapted his tone accordingly. After a minute in the man's company, Abaye could feel condescension forming on the windows.