Robert Silverberg - The Seventh Shrine

The place of the sacrifice.

The place where the terrible madness of the Defilement was to happen. Where Valentine the Pontifex of Majipoor waited with the long gleaming blade in his hand.

“Majesty? Majesty?”

Valentine blinked and came groggily awake. A Shapeshifter stood above him, extremely tall and greatly attenuated of form, his eyes so sharply slanted and narrowed that it seemed at first glance that he had none at all. Valentine began to jump up in alarm; and then, recognizing the intruder after a moment as Aarisiim, he relaxed.

“You cried out,” the Metamorph said. “I was on my way to you to tell you some strange news I have learned, and when I was outside your tent I heard your voice. Are you all right, your majesty?”

“A dream, only. A very nasty dream.” Which still lingered disagreeably at the edges of his mind. Valentine shivered and tried to shake himself free of its grasp. “What time is it, Aarisiim?”

“The Hour of the Haigus, majesty.”

Past the middle of the night, that was. Well along towards dawn.

Valentine forced himself the rest of the way into wakefulness. Eyes fully open now, he stared up into the practically featureless face. “There’s news, you say? What news?”

The Metamorph’s colour deepened from pale green to a rich chartreuse, and his eye-slits fluttered swiftly three or four times.I have had a conversation this night with one of the archaeologists, the woman Hieekraad, she who keeps the records of the discovered artefacts. The foreman of the diggers brought her to me, the man Vathnmeraak, from the village. He and this Hieekraad are lovers, it seems.”

Valentine stirred impatiently. “Get to the point, Aarisiim.”

T approach it, sir. The woman Hieekraad, it seems, has revealed things to the man Vathiimeraak about the excavations that a mere foreman might otherwise not have known. He has told those things to me this evening.”

“Well?”

“They have been lying to us, majesty—all the archaeologists, the whole pack of them, deliberately concealing something important. Something quite important, a major discovery. Vathiimeraak, when he learned from this Hieekraad that we had been deceived in this way, made the woman come with him to me, and compelled her to reveal the whole story to me.”

“Go on.”

“It was this,” said Aarisiim. He paused a moment, swaying a little as though he were about to plunge into a fathomless abyss. “Dr Huukaminaan, two weeks before he died, uncovered a burial site that had never been detected before. This was in an otherwise desolate region out at the western edge of the city. Magadone Sambisa was with him. It was a post-abandonment site, dating from the historic era. From a time not long after Lord Stiamot, actually.”

“But how could that be?” said Valentine, frowning. “Completely aside from the little matter that there was a curse on this place and no Piurivar would have dared to set foot in it after it was destroyed, there weren’t any Piurivars living on this continent at that time anyway. Stiamot had sent them all into the reservations on Zimroel. You know that very well, Aarisiim. Something’s wrong here,”

This was not a Piurivar burial, your majesty.”

“What?”

“It was the tomb of a human,” Aarisiim said. “The tomb of a Pontifex, according to the woman Hieekraad.”

Valentine would not have been more surprised if Aarisiim had set off an explosive charge. “A Pontifex?” he repeated numbly. “The tomb of a Pontifex, here in Velalisier?”

“So did this Hieekraad say. A definite identification. The symbols on the wall of the tomb—the Labyrinth sign, and other things of that sort—the ceremonial objects found lying next to the body—inscriptions—everything indicated that this was a Pontifex’s grave, thousands of years old. So she said; and I think she was telling the truth. Vathiimeraak was standing over her, scowling, as she spoke. She was too frightened of him to have uttered any falsehoods just then.”

Valentine rose and paced fiercely about the tent. “By the Divine, Aarisiim! If this is true, it’s something that should have been brought to my attention as soon as it came to light. Or at least mentioned to me upon my arrival here. The tomb of some ancient Pontifex, and they hide it from me? Unbelievable. Unbelievable!”

“It was Magadone Sambisa herself who ordered that all news of the discovery was to be suppressed. There would be no public announcement whatever. Not even the diggers were told what had been uncovered. It was to be a secret known to the archaeologists of the dig, only.”

“This according to Hieekraad also?”

“Yes, majesty. She said that Magadone Sambisa gave those orders the very day the tomb was found. This Hieekraad furthermore told me that Dr Huukaminaam disagreed strenuously with Magadone Sambisa’s decision, that indeed they had a major quarrel over it. But in the end he gave in. And when the murder happened, and word came that you were going to visit Velalisier, Magadone Sambisa called a meeting of the staff and reiterated that nothing was to be said to you about it. Everyone involved with the dig was specifically told to keep all knowledge of it from you,”

“Absolutely incredible,” Valentine muttered.

Earnestly Aarisiim said, “You must protect the woman Hieekraad, majesty, as you investigate this thing. She will be in great trouble if Magadone Sambisa learns that she’s the one who let the story of the tomb get out.”

“Hieekraad’s not the only one who’s going to be in trouble,” Valentine said. He slipped from his nightclothes and started to dress.

“One more thing, majesty. The khivanivod—Torkkinuuminaad? He’s at the tomb site right now. That’s where he went to make his prayer retreat. I have this information from the foreman Vathiimeraak.”

“Splendid,” Valentine said. His head was whirling. “The village khivanivod mumbling Piurivar prayers in the tomb of a Pontifex! Beautiful! Wonderful! Get me Magadone Sambisa, right away, Aarisiim.”

“Majesty, the hour is very early, and—”

“Did you hear me, Aarisiim?”

“Majesty,” said the Shapeshifter, more subserviently this time. He bowed deeply. And went out to fetch Magadone Sambisa.

“An ancient Pontifex’s tomb, Magadone Sambisa, and no announcement is made? An ancient Pontifex’s tomb, and when the current Pontifex comes to inspect your dig, you go out of your way to keep him from learning about it? This is all extremely difficult for me to believe, let me assure you,”

Dawn was still an hour away. Magadone Sambisa, called from her bed for this interview, looked even paler and more haggard than she had yesterday, and now there might have been a glint of fear in her eyes as well. But for all that, she still was capable of summoning some of the unrelenting strength that had propelled her to the forefront of her profession: there was even a steely touch of defiance in her voice as she said, “Who told you about this tomb, your majesty?”

Valentine ignored the sally. “It was at your order, was it, that the story was suppressed?”

“Yes,”

“Over Dr Huukaminaan’s strong objections, so I understand,”

How fury flashed across her features. They’ve told you everything, haven’t they? Who was it? Who?”

“Let me remind you, lady, that I am the one asking the questions here. It’s true, then, that Huukaminaan disagreed with you about concealing the discovery?”

“Yes.” In a very small voice.

“Why was that?”

“He saw it as a crime against the truth,” Magadone Sambisa said, still speaking very quietly now, “You have to understand, majesty, that Dr Huukaminaan was utterly dedicated to his work. Which was, as it is for us all, the recovery of the lost aspects of our past through rigorous application of formal archaeological disciplines. He was totally committed to this, a true and pure scientist.”