The Three Lands Omnibus Part 71

Orel considered this fact as he licked the sugar from his fingers; his face was caked with the white crystals. Prosper resisted an impulse to wipe the boy's mouth for him. Instead he said, "Now clean your hands and face, please."

Orel stooped obediently and dipped his hands so briefly into the river that Prosper sighed and crouched down on the gra.s.sy bank beside him. "Wash them thoroughly," he said. "You will be touching valuable ma.n.u.scripts." He doused his own hands in the water as demonstration.

Orel, watching him, said, "n.o.body can be so dirty that they need that much was.h.i.+ng."

"The was.h.i.+ng is not merely for the body but for the mind as well," Prosper told him. "Huard will no doubt have taught you the prayers to say before memorizing pa.s.sages of the G.o.d's Law. Even ma.n.u.scripts that deal with temporal matters require that sort of cleansing of the mind."

Orel looked skeptical. Touching the boy's face to remind him of the dirt there, Prosper said, "Before Huard begins any service, he spends several minutes purifying himself, so that both his body and his spirit will be clean when he enters the sanctuary. The first time he entered the altar area, he had to undergo a day and night of full-body purification. The purification helped to still his spirit, so that he was ready to accept any message the G.o.d might send him when he was lighting the sacred flame. It is the same with those of us who are temporal: we must take a few minutes before beginning language lessons to still our minds, so that we can enter fully into what we are taught. As you grow older, you may find your own method for stilling your mind. Was.h.i.+ng is the one I use."

"Oh." Orel looked down at the water, leaping and tugging at the riverside plants, then plunged his head suddenly into the water. He emerged as wet as a fish, shaking his hair so that droplets spattered onto Prosper.

Prosper fought to hold back his laughter. "I did not mean for you to wash yourself that thoroughly."

Orel looked at him with surprise. "But you said that, the first time, Huard purified his whole body. I'd wash all of myself, but Huard said not to bathe here; the current is too strong... . Why are you smiling?"

"Because Huard's predecessor gave me the same teaching when I was a boy. In fact, he gave a thundering lecture to me when he found me trying to venture into the water when I was six. He told me how my body would be pulled away from the tribal territory and end up buried under a rock, so that I would die unpurified by a priest. It was quite an effective lecture; I was terrified to go near the river for weeks after that."

"Huard wasn't that frightening. But in the catechism cla.s.s, he did have us memorize the pa.s.sage in the law against self-slaying, about how willful recklessness leading to death can be considered self-slaying. He didn't say anything about the river, but we were sitting on the riverbank that day, and he kept tossing branches into the water and watching them be sucked under by the current."

Prosper reflected, not for the first time, that Huard's indirect methods of instilling discipline could be quite as effective as his own. He was tempted to hand Orel over to Huard for his language lessons. But the truth was a and Prosper again hoped that he was not engaging in vainglory in believing this a that none of the priests who had taught at Prosper's school over the years had ever been able to match him in his ability to impress upon boys the difficult spellings and vowel changes and grammatical forms and nightmarish p.r.o.nunciations of the ancient tongue. True, the language was not an end in itself, but learning it properly was.

The sunlight's slant had deepened, sending bright rays into Prosper's eyes. He winced, then helped Orel to his feet and led the way to Huard's hut. As they reached the doorway, Orel hesitated. He looked up at his teacher and said, "This is like when Huard goes behind the G.o.d-mask and lights the sacred flame, isn't it?"

"It is."

Orel made an attempt to press down the tangle of wet hair at the back of his head, then looked up again at Prosper. "Tomorrow I'll make sure my hair is combed," he said.

Prosper did laugh then. Smoothing the boy's hair down with his hand, he guided him into the hut and into the back chamber, where the scrolls lay open, awaiting teacher and pupil.

During his years at the training school, Prosper had sometimes visited the nearby military yard to watch the soldiers there do mock battle. He had no intrinsic interest in the skills of warfare, but as City Priest he had sometimes been asked by the priest who had care over the soldiers to intervene in important disciplinary cases. Over the years, Prosper had found that he could learn much about the spiritual state of temporal men and women by observing them at their work. Now, shoving aside all temptation to ascertain the spiritual state of the boys doing mock battle before him, Prosper set out to discern what could be told of the states of their minds.

Dust scattered into the morning light as men and boys practiced their fighting skills in the small military yard of the Feasters. The two youngest boys of Orel's family were wrestling in a corner with each other, like mountain cubs at play. Orel's father had disappeared into the nearby armory with the tribe's smith, who had once flung a horseshoe at Prosper. Prosper barely noticed the father's departure, however. His gaze was upon a battle taking place near the tribe's stone pillar.

The younger of the boys in the battle was of about age ten, two years short of his catechism lessons. He had already learned enough of the G.o.d's Language to be able to partic.i.p.ate in the recital of names, for Prosper had heard him begin his recital during the brief interval that it took each day for Prosper to slide his way carefully out the side door of the sanctuary. The boy's p.r.o.nunciation of the names was atrocious, but Prosper guessed, as he watched the battle, that this was due to a lack of gift for languages rather than due to a lack of concentration, for the younger boy was now so intent on his work that he squinted his eyes and flared his nostrils.

The older boy was a different matter. His stance and position of blade were sloppy a even Prosper, uneducated in warfare, could tell as much. The older boy had a tendency to become distracted from the battle, though his occasional moments of clarity showed that he was by far the more skilled of the two boys in swordplay. The end result was that the younger boy was besting the older in two battles out of three. Prosper frowned.

At that moment, the older boy caught sight of him and lost all interest in what he was doing. If the younger boy had not been as alert as he was, his blade would have cut into the older boy's arm. The older boy, quite unaware of this, turned his head and said something briefly to the younger boy. Clearly relieved to be rid of so lackadaisical an opponent, the younger boy turned away in search of a fresh partner.

Now free of his younger brother, Orel came running forward, not bothering to sheathe his sword. As he reached Prosper, he asked breathlessly, "Did you wish to speak with me?"

"Not especially. I am sorry to see that your lessons with me have been wasted."

The shock on the boy's face was so sharp that Prosper's newly disciplined spirit immediately sent out a cry of warning. Quickly Prosper reached forward and laid a rea.s.suring hand on Orel's shoulder.

"I spoke with undue harshness," he said. "What I meant to say was that I wish you would put to use the training I have been giving you in discipline. You were not focussing your full mind on your work there."

The boy was clearly startled at this criticism. After a moment, though, his face cleared and he boasted, "I was remembering the verb forms you had me memorize."

"That won't do," replied Prosper, letting his hand fall. "If you're thinking of language lessons during swordplay, you'll soon be thinking of swordplay lessons during your time at language. Whatever you do a be it scribe-learning or battle preparation or a mundane task such as fetching water for the soldiers a you must give your whole mind to the task. Otherwise, your ill discipline in one aspect of life will affect your discipline in other aspects."

"Oh." Orel's face brightened. "It's like combing my hair."

Prosper nearly sent up a prayer to the G.o.d in thankfulness for being given such a bright pupil. He stopped himself in time, though, from breaking his discipline of wors.h.i.+p. "Exactly so. Now seek out your brother again and see whether you can give as much concentration to your task as he was."

"All right." But Orel did not seem inclined to move. He scuffed his toes on the ground for a moment before catching himself. Prosper, watching him dip his head shyly, was pleased to note that Orel was indeed keeping his hair combed and his appearance neat, even when at energetic battle work. Prosper had to resist an impulse to reach out and smooth down a bit of hair that had flown free as Orel ran toward him.

Orel said, without looking up, "I was wondering ... When you leave the service this evening, at the recital of names, could I come with you? I've finished my vocabulary memorization a not only the ones you asked me to memorize, but the rest of the words as well. I can recite all of the ancient words now."

"Not all of them," said Prosper. "There remains one word which neither you nor I are permitted to speak. You may hear it at the wors.h.i.+p service, if you give your full attention to it."

Orel looked up then. Prosper was pleased to see that the boy seemed properly abashed. Placing his hand once more on Orel's shoulder, Prosper said gently, "No, you may not neglect your wors.h.i.+p discipline in favor of your lessons, but I will look forward to hearing your recital tonight. -See, your father is searching for you."

Orel looked over his shoulder at the same moment that his father, emerging from the armory, caught sight of the boy. The father frowned and took a step forward, only to be distracted at that moment by his two youngest sons, who came tumbling over and clung to his legs, like puppies seeking to be petted. Orel, seeing that he had been granted a moment's reprieve, looked back at Prosper and said quickly, "When you become a priest again, may I come to one of your services and listen to you say the sacred word?"

"Perhaps," Prosper replied non-committally. "Go now; your father looks as though he wishes to slice me open with his blade for interrupting your swordplay."

He spoke lightly, but the words were no exaggeration. Prosper was becoming alarmed by the look that Orel's father was giving him as the soldier sought to free himself from the embrace of his affectionate sons. Orel turned and ran to his father. As he did so, the father spoke sharply to him, in words that were lost amidst the tumult of the military yard, but which clearly chastened the boy.

Prosper decided that it would be politic to remove himself at this point, and he swiftly stepped behind the stone pillar. After a moment, however, he could not resist the impulse to look back at the military yard to see how matters were going between father and son. He found that the man and boy were now on the point of doing sword-battle against each other. Orel's eyes were narrow with concentration, and his sword was in the proper position for preparation.

Prosper felt something brush his arm. He turned to see that Huard was also watching the military yard. The priest, Prosper decided, must have had a particularly difficult struggle to keep discipline during the mid-morning meal-hostings, for he was sipping at a cup of water, as he was wont to do at moments of greatest stress.

Huard said nothing about this, though, remarking only, "A few years ago, I asked Iolo to teach me swordplay. I thought that the exercise would keep my body slender and that it would be good for me to know inwardly some of the duties of temporal men."

"Were you an apt pupil?" Prosper asked.

Huard smiled. "After the first lesson, Iolo told me that some men were meant to be temporal and some men were meant to be spiritual, and that I should stick with the discipline that suited my spirit best."

Prosper laughed. He found it easy to do so these days; the lesson time with Orel had lifted his spirits to a degree that he could not have imagined earlier in the summer. Turning his gaze back to the military yard where the man and boy were continuing to clash swords against each other, Prosper said, "There was a time when I would have thrown scorn upon you for spending your energy in temporal activities, but the truth is, Huard, it now seems a shame to me that temporal boys such as Orel do not normally receive the benefits of scribe-learning to the extent that priest-pupils do. If I had been aware of this fact in past years, I would have encouraged more temporal boys to spend time at the training school."

Huard shook his head. "I fear that would be like sending a hunting-boy to learn spear-throwing from a soldier. The hunting-boy is likely to learn much about how to kill an enemy on the field, but he will be left with no notion of how to kill a mountain cat... . I agree with you about the need to offer more learning to temporal boys, and I am sorry that I do not have the time to give such training myself. I suspect, though, that it is just as well. I think that such a task should be left to a temporal man, who knows from his own experience what aspects of scribe-learning are needful for a temporal life."

"Perhaps Orel will become such a man," Prosper murmured, his gaze still focussed upon the boy. "As for disciplines that suit one's spirit, I find that my present discipline fits me very well. I trust that you agree."

The priest was slow in replying. He took several sips of water before saying, "It was a risk, you know, for me to give you permission to resume teaching."

"Yes, I realize that, and I am grateful," said Prosper, his gaze still upon Orel and his father. "My demon of judgment had centered its destruction upon the priest-pupils whom I taught. I had fears myself that it might gain stronger hold over me when I began teaching Orel. As it is ... It is hard to describe the difference, Huard. In the old days, if a priest-pupil took half the time that I would in memorizing a vocabulary list, I would say to myself, *This boy lacks discipline of mind; therefore it is likely that he lacks spiritual discipline.' And I would go searching for flaws in his spiritual state so that I could chastise him for them. I can see quite clearly now how my native demon worked. Yet when Orel was slow this week in memorizing his vocabulary, I thought only to myself, *This boy lacks discipline of mind. Perhaps it would be best to start him on the verb forms.' And I set aside all concerns as to whether Orel was drawing closer to the G.o.d through his work. I didn't even try to compare Orel's progress with my own when I was his age."

"I am glad to hear that," said Huard. "I had hoped that it might be that way for you. Some men who are tempted toward demonic judgment in spiritual matters find it far easier to resist such temptation in temporal matters."

"Oh, I will have to rid myself of my demon of judgment as far as spiritual matters are concerned as well, of course. That is necessary before I reapply for the priesthood." Prosper's mind was only half on what he was saying. He was waiting in suspense as Orel's father turned his sword in such a manner that Prosper was convinced a in one heart-clenching moment a that the boy's sword-arm would be severed. Instead, Orel's father neatly disarmed the boy. Orel, with that look of eager curiosity which Prosper had begun to know well, began to pour out what Prosper guessed were questions about how his father had achieved the disarming.

Beside him, Huard said, "You are certainly focussing a great deal of attention on your lessons with Orel."

"Yes," said Prosper with a smile. Then something about Huard's voice reached him, and he turned to look at the priest. Huard was not looking his way, but he was sipping from his cup as though his life depended on it.

"Huard," Prosper said, "do you have any advice to give me concerning my lessons with Orel?"

The priest lowered his cup. He said, "I remember clearly the speech you once gave to all of us priest-pupils in my time. It was when we were discussing the law on marriage. You said that even a man entering into purified love with his wife must never forget the G.o.d. If he did, his lovemaking would become demonic."

Prosper said slowly, "I have a faint memory of that lecture, but I'm not sure how it's applicable here."

"You went on to say that it was even more important for those of us whose work required us to care for a number of people a priests and chieftains and commanders a never to become too absorbed in one person, for dire consequences could result."

"Too much time?" Prosper frowned. "Huard, I only spend two hours of the day with Orel-"

"-and spend much of the remainder of the day preparing for his lessons or wandering over to this yard to watch him at his duties."

Prosper found that he was having to turn aside a p.r.i.c.kly desire to become angry. "Huard, you've taught catechism cla.s.ses; you know how much work it takes to prepare for them. As for unfortunate consequences-"

"*Dire' is the word you used when you taught me. You cited the example of a priest who, spending all of his time taking the confessions of one woman under his care, found himself unable to resist the demon of impure love when it came in temptation. You said that such a man had to be burned... . You are shaking your head."

"Not at your advice," Prosper said quickly. "I am simply saddened that other priests have been burdened with temptations that I have been spared. In all my years as priest, I've never been troubled by l.u.s.tful desires. I suppose I owe that fact to the good fortune of having taken my vows of service to the G.o.d at an early age, before desires normally arise. Still," he added thoughtfully, "I see what you are saying: you are concerned that I am spending time with Orel as a way to become intimate with his mother. Huard, I a.s.sure you, I've had no contact with either of Orel's parents since the teaching began. Indeed, I have been feeling guilt over that fact. I really ought to have visited them before now, to let them know how their son is progressing."

Huard sighed. He still had not looked Prosper's way. "Prosper, I truly do not know which demon will decide to take advantage of your new duties to attack you in a way that you do not expect. I do remember, though, that you once told me that the surest way to know of a change in a person's spiritual condition is to note any changes in his regular routine."

"Yes?" said Prosper and waited, but the priest did not speak further. After a moment, Prosper realized that, under the G.o.d's Law, Huard was not permitted to speak further.

Hearing the first faint fanfare of fear, Prosper put his mind to the task of discerning what warning Huard was giving him. It did not take him long. "I have broken my discipline of silence," he said slowly. "Huard, I am sorry. There were times when, as a priest, I cut back on my wors.h.i.+p discipline in order to devote more time to my lessons with my priest-pupils. I should have realized that it would be dangerous to my spirit if I did so during my year of exile. The truth is, though," he added, his mouth taking on a rueful smile, "that it is easier to listen to someone who speaks to you."

Huard did not smile in return. "Do not forget that the G.o.d is speaking to you continuously, Prosper, even during your exile; you have simply closed yourself to his voice. You will be able to hear him if you listen carefully."

"Our fellow living spirits are voices for the G.o.d as well," Prosper reminded him.

"Certainly, and I have been pleased by how far your discipline has carried you in enabling you to listen carefully to Orel's needs. Do not forget the G.o.d's needs, though. Remember the husband and his demonic lovemaking."

Prosper shook his head. "I understand now what you're telling me, Huard. I should never have allowed my discipline of reaching out to Orel in his need to interfere with my wors.h.i.+p discipline. I will return to my discipline of silence immediately. As for the time I spend with Orel-"

He stopped abruptly; out of the corner of his eye, he had seen a flash of light, accompanied by a cry. He turned in time to see the sword that Orel's father had been wielding spin to the ground, blown aside by Orel's successful completion of the maneuver that his father had just taught him. For a moment, father and son alike looked stunned. Then Orel gave a whoop of delight and dropped his sword, rus.h.i.+ng into his father's awaiting arms.

Huard's voice said, "I am going now to Iolo's hut. He wounded his arm while hunting yesterday. Will you come with me and help me apply the healing herbs?"

"Yes, certainly," said Prosper. He was smiling, watching the boy joyfully embrace his father, and he was thinking that this would mean he must change his lesson plans again. When discipline was rewarded by the acquisition of new skills, that was the right time in which to undertake harder disciplines which might daunt the pupil if introduced at times of discouragement. Tonight, he thought, he would set Orel to the difficult task of beginning to learn the ancient p.r.o.nunciation, a task that had caused more than one of Prosper's pupils to beg to be released from his training as a priest. Somehow, Prosper doubted that Orel would seek to be released from his temporal lessons. Prosper's smile deepened.

He did not hear the priest leave. Nor did he see Huard's frown.

CHAPTER FOUR.

"Again," said Prosper.

He and Orel were seated in the corner of Huard's inner chamber, settled upon seat cus.h.i.+ons with the scroll unrolled on a low table before them. It was a position that Prosper would once have thought far too indulgent for proper discipline in scribe-training, but with his newly heightened awareness of what his pupil needed, he had realized that the boy a.s.sociated seat-cus.h.i.+ons with the years he had spent sitting on the ground, watching his father demonstrate proper battle maneuvers. Thus Orel was far more alert while sitting upon cus.h.i.+ons than he was when seated at the table.

"I don't understand why it matters whether I p.r.o.nounce it correctly," complained the boy. "n.o.body speaks the ancient tongue any more."

"It matters because, if you are to do a task, you should do it as well as you can, rather than willfully adopt errors. At sword-play, would you teach yourself to disarm an opponent, but neglect to teach yourself to kill him, just because killing him was more difficult?"

"But I can't say it!"

"You can. Try again."

Orel leaned forward over the scroll, his hair touching the soft fuzz beginning to appear on his cheek, which was otherwise as smooth as a maiden's. He bit his lip, which was the color of winter berries, and then said aloud, "*The ancient lands were destroyed by the demons, but the Mercy above all mercies will a.s.sist us to destroy our demons before they destroy us. In order to receive the G.o.d's a.s.sistance, we must kiet our minds-"

"No. Try again."

Orel sighed and leaned back against the wall, his shoulder brus.h.i.+ng against his tutor's shoulder. "Sir, it's so late a I'm already missing the evening meal, and Father will wonder why I'm late tonight. He may come looking for me."

"Let him come. I will tell him that he had best give up training you in swordplay, because you do not have the strength to hold a sword when you are weary."

Orel groaned and leaned forward again. "*In order to receive the G.o.d's a.s.sistance, you must kiet-"

"No. You are not listening. *Quiet,' not kiet."

"I'm trying!" The boy's voice was strained. "I hear what you say, and I try to say it, but my mouth won't speak the word properly."

"That is because you are trying to speak the word through your own effort. Listen to the meaning of the pa.s.sage, not just the letters. *You must quiet your mind and receive the G.o.d's training in silence.' Quiet your mind; do not attempt to think about what you are doing. Simply listen to the word I say, and repeat it. Quiet."

"Kiet."

"Quiet."

"Kiet."

"Listen. Quiet."

"K-kwiet."

"Very close. Now try it in the sentence. Do not think; merely still your mind. *To receive the G.o.d's a.s.sistance-'"

"*You must kiet your-' Oh, Prosper, I can't do it."

"Very well." Prosper's voice turned cold. "If you cannot do it, then there is no need for me to train you further. We have reached your limits. Leave now."

Orel had been sagging back against the wall, his eyes closed. Now he jerked upright and stared at Prosper with wide eyes. "You can't send me away," he whispered. "I'm making such progress. You said so yourself."

"You are not here to learn a language; you are here to learn discipline. If you have no discipline a if you are unwilling to strain beyond the limits you believe that you have, are unwilling to hold that sword for a minute longer than your body bids you to hold it a then you are of no use on the field of battle against demons. What sort of soldier, when battle-weary and torn with wounds, drops his sword and tells the comrades he was defending, *I'm too tired. I've missed my supper. I can't do this, so I must leave you to die'?"

The boy's face was white. In the silence that followed, Prosper entered into his own silence, listening, as Huard had trained him to do, for the warning he would receive that he was being too harsh on the boy.

The warning came. Proper slid his arm over the boy's shoulders and said gently, "You are a very fine pupil indeed a I would not press you so hard if I did not believe that you are able to go beyond the limits that most boys would have reached by this time. There is a reason that I am pressing you now, when you are so tired. You must trust me in this matter."

Some of the color returned to Orel's face, and Prosper had a moment to reflect that Huard, quite unintentionally, had given training to his exiled guest which was enabling Prosper to be a better teacher than he had been for many years. Then the boy closed his eyes, let out his breath slowly, and said, with a voice clear and bright, like that of a sword moving in a beautiful arc, "*The ancient lands were destroyed by the demons, but the Mercy above all mercies will a.s.sist us to destroy our demons before they destroy us. In order to receive the G.o.d's a.s.sistance, we must quiet our minds-' Prosper, I did it!" His face alight, Orel flung his arms around his teacher.

Prosper smiled as he enfolded the boy's warm body into his embrace. "It happens that way sometimes, when the body and mind are weary. We have no strength then for any thoughts or fears, and so the G.o.d is able to enter into us at such moments and take us beyond what we can normally achieve."

"And that's why you wanted me to stay late. I'm sorry; I should have trusted you." The boy pulled back just enough to lean his head against Prosper's shoulder. Prosper kept his arm around the boy as he smiled in the dim light of the autumn evening. He had often thought that men not trained as priests, who received their chief pleasures from the body, must feel this way when they lay in love with their wives: the exultation at the end of an act of love, driving out all thoughts except for that of the beloved. Or so Prosper had been told by men who spoke to him in confession, seeking rea.s.surance that it was normal at such times to lose thought even of the G.o.d. For truly, Prosper thought, training a pupil is an act of love, and as much a service to the G.o.d as a married man's act of purified love with his wife.