Our Little Gods 1: RABATEA, the first World of the Daughters.

Chapter 27.

Triarch Feletones had been reading linen squares all morning with a growing sense of dread. The tall bold monk was preparing for the extraordinary council of the Eight Triarchs that had been called for to address the situation developing in Lower Limore since the conversion of Radelyes. He had the feeling that a pattern was on the verge of emerging right under his eyes but it had remained hidden so far. Upon hearing the call for the rise of the second moon he motioned his assistant to gather the squares on his table and follow him. He went on ahead walking briskly to clear his head, He understood that the conversion of their young king to the singular faith of the Veviensis meant that the lower Limorite had no more use for the monasteries of the Triad but why did they systematically demanded that the monks leave monasteries and healing rooms naked. if the purpose had been to humiliate the monks, why then give them clothes as soon as they had passed the gates. It was almost as if they believed the monks would steal goods or properties from the monasteries. Yet, the lower part of historical Limore even in the time of unity had never been the wealthiest nor the most populous and its monasteries had always been simple affairs most built on the usual rectangular plan with two adjacent square buildings, a cloister in the middle of each, one for the Heal and the sick and the other accommodations of the monks and preparations of the simples and the seals. The only monastery more elaborate than that was in the palace in Medsit and had been entirely rebuilt by Radelyes' father after a fire had destroyed the old one and the ancient granaries.

Even there the monks had been escorted out of the monastery naked and provided with garments in the courtyard of the palace. The young king had also provided the monks with ships to leave his lands and it was so that two dozen transport barges had left the harbors of Lott and Medsit and sailed to Kriebar in Ziom. The small harbor town simply did not have the capacity to accommodate such an influx of people whose sole property was the mismatched often miss fitted garments covering their backs. Some had been seriously sick during the passage and a few who had been too old to travel had passed away on board the ships or upon landing.

The other disturbing thing was the reports from Limero: The Warlords united, Balà war fleets, Natab and Havenite troops marching towards Taleb. The attacks on the boys and their forced sheltering in the mountain village of Zilia when the monastery of Luz was closed down by the soldiers of the king. Something was happening below the Ignos and in Lower Limore, Feletones felt it in his guts that somehow the Veviensis and her goons had a plan but there was not one single clue to guide him towards understanding what it was. One did not simply go to people and told them to their face 'I don't like you and I think you are responsible for stuff happening that I don't like either.' It was childish and counterproductive. Ever since he had been voted onto the board of the Eight Triarchs,; Feletones had constantly been impressed with the maturity and wisdom of his companions, but recently the world had been a little too rough for the like of the aging Aeges and more often than not the old man refused to add his thoughts to the debate and simply agreed with the most federative voice. He was from the Inan church and sometimes his colleagues would joke between themselves that the silent one had taught her Triarch the Standing Rabatean popular saying that went something like: 'Silence is a strength.'

As the corridor connected with a second coming from the side, Feletones met with Murcas his support and censor in the council. Together they constituted the voice of Dinié for the debates and the votes, dissent or contradictory votes was not allowed between the mutual censors of one of the goddess. Only the censors of the three could dissent one with the other and vote against one another.

"Well met, my friend." Feletones smiled at the short Vaarati women who , to his eyes, always looked like she had climbed off a horse this very instant. The compact body, lean hard muscles and bowed legs reinforced the caricatural image of the upper tribes constantly riding horses across the vast plains to the Hard Sea. The fair haired Vaarati had spent her time on the sacred islands since being voted on the council three years ago and had had no opportunity to ride anything else but a barge to commute between the islands though. She looked preoccupied as she saluted her elder.