Robert Hughes - The Prophet of Lamath

Poison. Ligne pushed her own cup away with one finger, and softly chided, “I wish you hadn’t done that. I was going to have such fun with you.” Then she left the room as swiftly as she had come, ignoring the dying woman’s groans.

She climbed to the battlements where Kherda waited, and announced, “It’s done.” Kherda turned to look at her. The woman’s face was flushed, as if she’d come fresh from the bed of her lover.

Kherda nodded. He felt no different, now that the thing was done. The sky had not fallen. The ground had not opened up to swallow him. He had betrayed and overthrown his own King—yet he survived. He made his way to the reassuring confines of his familiar apartments. As the golden city fell, the man who had planned its conquest enjoyed the soundest sleep he had known in months.

Pelmen had planned to make a public announcement of his prophethood. That was the common practice, and he felt this continuity with Lamathian tradition might help to soften the blow of his unorthodox teachings. The experience of the whirlwind, however, made any public announcement unnecessary. Those who had witnessed it from the manor departed in every direction the moment the storm abated, and there was only one subject on their lips. A new Prophet had come to Lamath.

Everywhere the announcement was made it met the same response: “What will the Priestess say to this?” Within days, the news had made its way to Serphila, searching out new ears the way tree roots search for water—in order to continue to live. By the time the tale was told in the village, the story had grown like spring grass after the rain.

“A Prophet has come to Lamath! He wears no symbol, and they say he is a Divisionist, but he has power over nature and can bend the world to his will. He cut a tornado in half with a snap of his fingers! He laughed and stars fell from the sky. He cannot pass a burial place without bodies rising to follow him! No, I’m not lying! It means that the Lord Dragon knows Chaomonous threatens us, and has sent us a Prophet as a sign!” Those closest to Serphimera could scarcely contain themselves when they heard the news. It was not that they believed it. Instinctively they feared it.

But the Priestess certainly needed to hear. They raced one another to tell her, and found her tending the garden that had sprouted in the field surrounding the crater made by the dragon.

“Stay off the peas,” she shouted to them as they picked their way toward her.

“A Prophet has come to Lamath!” one shouted and the others chimed in with their echoes. Serphimera absorbed the news with little more reaction than a blink of the eyes, and held up her hands for silence.

“The Lord Dragon’s garden is not the place for such a tale. Let’s make our way to the chapel.” There was much excitement and noise in the chapel that afternoon. The Priestess had a vision of a Prophet in blue being torn in two by the dragon. They were powerful things, Serphimera’s visions. Usually they came true.

Pelmen was speaking quietly to Bronwynn and Rosha, explaining a passage of extreme complexity, when someone cleared his throat beyond the entry hole.

“Yes, my father?” Pelmen called through the wall. He had heard that sound many times before, usually when his teacher had wished to call him back from vague speculations to the realities of the lesson at hand.

This summons proved to have some of that same quality, as Pelmen discovered after he made the transit on his stomach and stood beside the toothless little man. “I hate to disturb your study again,” the Elder began, but his sardonic smile belied his words. “However, there is a matter I felt you needed to be aware of. Your fame has reached the ears of the Priestess of the dragon. The lady is on the way here, it appears, and I was wondering. Do you think you could meet her somewhere along the way? It would do none of us any good if she were to discover exactly where you stay.” The old man loved Pelmen and he supported the new Prophet’s mission with the utmost enthusiasm. But he also loved the other brothers. Was it fair, he wondered, to penalize them and stifle their spiritual progress for this one, when there was no need even to involve them? Pelmen nodded curtly. While it was too late to keep this place hidden, he too saw wisdom in disassociating himself from the monastery. ”

“Rosha! Bronwynn! Come quickly.” As the two young people slid noisily out of the chamber, Pelmen turned to the Elder and put his hands on the man’s shoulders. “You know that you may store your library here if you wish…”

“What?” the little man said, his head jerking. “Why should the bears want to read my books? I certainly wouldn’t be reading them down here!” Then the baldheaded scholar joined himself to Rosha as they all walked back to the ladder. The lad was the only one who had the good sense to carry a sword into this cavern.

Central Lamath was dotted with small farming communities, where life was slow and travel infrequent. How then did news travel so quickly? Without aid of crier or public proclamation, everyone seemed to know everything that was going on anywhere locally. Before Pelmen knew, before Serphimera knew, the locals had calculated exactly where their meeting would take place, and began to gather there to wait for the event.

“Give them plenty of room,” a self-appointed crowd manager was yelling as he pushed groups of seated peasants into an ever-widening circle. “There’ll be wonders and signs aplenty when these two meet, and we’ll all want to be able to see.” Grudgingly people responded, outwardly complaining but inwardly glad that someone had assumed the responsibility. Behind the crowds petty merchants had set up tables, and now displayed their wares. Everywhere there were groups of young boys, and so quickly did these gangs run from one place to the other that there seemed to be twice as many groups as there actually were. In the absence of professional jugglers and acrobats, amateurs entertained the crowds. This was a spontaneous carnival, all realized, and since such events were rare, everyone made the most •of the occasion.

“What is g-g-going on?” Rosha asked as they rode within sight of the growing throng.

“Looks like a fair,” Bronwynn said matter-of-factly. “Can we ride around it?” Pelmen felt an irresponsible quickening in his pulse rate, and fought to calm it. He was, after all, a player—or had been—and the excitement and noise of the crowd re-awoke strange impulses within him. “We would disappoint them greatly, Bronwynn. From the looks on these faces, I believe we are the main act—or half of it.” He referred to a group of boys who hid in the bushes beside the. road. As the three riders passed, they would bolt from their cover and sprint ahead to hide in still more bushes farther along the way. Finally one ran all the way to the crowd, and from the sudden roar of approval Pelmen knew his arrival had been announced. “Shall we wait until the Priestess arrives before we enter the arena?” he asked mockingly. Bronwynn gave him a puzzled look, and they rode on.

A chill shook Pelmen a few moments later, when there was another great shout from the crowd and he realized that it was not for him but for Serphimera. His stomach began to knot up with tension. Try as he might, he could not stifle the self-doubt that sprang unbidden to his mind. He glanced over at Bronwynn and drew some reassurance from the expression on her face. She did not question that she rode beside the Prophet foretold in the days of the breaking of the one land. Bronwynn had no doubts at all.

But surely even she was affected by the sight of that surging flood of blue-gowned humanity that quickly filled up the hard-won space in the center of the giant circle. This army of believers had accompanied their Priestess, and they proudly took their places in front of the local peasants. As Pelmen dismounted from his horse and walked across the opening toward the lady, the air was filled with complaints and curses and the sounds of petty scuffles. There was such confusion that most of the assembled crowd missed the first few exchanges between the Prophet who had split the wind, and the Priestess who had captivated even the King.