The Invisible Chains - Part 2: Bonds of Fear (12 page)

given real responsibility and power. More and more they began to

demand a part in the decision making process. It took centuries, but

eventually they supplanted and subjugated women. There followed

a long period of literally millennia of war and suffering, culminating

in the Darkening when mankind almost ceased to exist. The records,

even those of the Order, are scant, and I’m not too sure what can

be believed or not, but they speak of terrible weapons. It must

have seemed as if the Gods themselves waged war upon mankind.

Extinction was narrowly avoided. We don’t know how long it took.

During the Darkening no records were kept, or if they were, they

were lost. Until one thousand four hundred and fifty-three years ago,

mankind emerged from the Darkening. Or so it was declared. As far

as the Order is concerned, we are still in the Darkening—”

“Can we get to today, please, Trysulda. I feel a splitting headache

coming.”

“Ever since,” the First Daughter continued, unperturbed, “the

Order has sought for ways to restore the rule of women. Griswinda

thought she had found a shortcut. The day she heard that little prince

Anaxantis had fallen gravely ill and that the Ximerionian doctors

were seemingly powerless, the Stratagem of the Weak King was

born. In short and without going into the finer details it amounted

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to putting someone on the throne of a powerful country and ruling

through him until we would be strong enough to come forth into

the daylight. We knew Emelasuntha would do everything in her

power to put the Devil’s Crown on the head of her boy. It was also no

secret that Kurtigaill, her brother, doesn’t want to be king. First he

offered the crown to her, which she refused, and then he proposed

to abdicate in favor of Anaxantis on his tenth birthday. He reckoned

that Emelasuntha could be regent until her son’s majority. He had no

problem declaring that she would be a lot better at it than he was.

Most people agreed with him. It was too early, she said. What she

meant was that she would be going after the Devil’s Crown first. The

throne of Zyntrea already was a sure thing.”

Martillia whistled.

“A woman after my heart,” she said. “She sees something she

wants and she goes straight for it.”

Her look wandered to a weeping willow in the distance where

Dirina was minding the three horses. Trysulda saw her look and

smiled.

“No doubt,” she said. Anyway, you can imagine how she panicked

when her precious boy fell ill. You can’t order a sickness to be

strangled. Griswinda, on the other hand, saw a golden opportunity.

We had a very good doctor who was — how shall I put this? — in our

employ. Griswinda went herself to present him to Emelasuntha, and

the boy recovered. Sort of. At least he didn’t die. What Emelasuntha

didn’t know was that Griswinda had given Birnac Maelar instructions

to cure the boy, but at the same time to keep him weak. Weak in

bodily strength and willpower. The Order would help Emelasuntha

in gaining the Devil’s Crown for her son. The Order would also train

and advise him... and of course make sure that there would always be

enough of the medicine he so obviously needed to survive, but which

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in fact kept him weak.”

“I see,” Martillia said. “In one fell swoop the Order would become

a political force as well as a spiritual one.”

“Exactly. Anaxantis would govern Ximerion and Zyntrea. The

Order would govern Anaxantis. Or that was how it was supposed to

go. You know what happened. By a string of unforeseeable incidents,

Anaxantis was deprived for a long period of the medicines that were

to keep him docile. He must have been gravely ill and even must

have thought he was dying at some point. Of course that was how

the drugs were designed to begin with. If ever Emelasuntha would

have tried to wean her son off the medicines, she would have soon

changed her mind when she saw how he was suffering.”

“It seems to me Griswinda’s plan was sound.”

“By all calculations it should have worked. Only, it didn’t, did it?

The plan also had one great weakness. Or rather the Order had and

still has. When something unforeseen, and probably unforeseeable,

happened we couldn’t react adequately.”

“I did everything humanly possible—”

“Oh, dear, nobody is blaming you. We know you did more

than could be expected of you. We were simply outnumbered and

outflanked. One crisis and our chapters couldn’t bear the strain. The

simple fact is that we haven’t got the financial means nor the women

power.”

“What now, Trysulda?”

The First Daughter sighed.

“Come, let’s visit the temple. It would be a shame to have come

all this way and not enter it.”

She started climbing the marble stairs.

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“Are you giving up?” Martillia asked, while following her.

Trysulda waited until she had reached the platform of the temple.

“No, not at all,” she said when she had regained her breath. “But

I plan to be more circumspect about our true aims and more open

at the same time. For ages the Order has hidden behind the skirts of

the Goddess Astonema. My aim is to gradually identify her with the

Great Mother. After all, Astonema is only an emanation, an aspect of

her. And so are all the other Goddesses.”

She smiled at her daughter.

“I call it the New Order. And a New Order needs a New Doctrine.

In a few decades I want to unite all the followers of all the Goddesses.

They can continue worshiping whoever they are worshiping now, as

long as they understand that all those Goddesses are just the Great

Mother in another disguise. After a few decades the Great Mother

will let it be known that she wishes to be revered only in her true

state. That of the one and only Goddess.”

“You want to abolish all the other Goddesses?” Martillia said in

awe.

“Not only the Goddesses, my child. The Gods as well. They are an

abomination anyhow. Whoever heard of a male God? The concept is

too ridiculous for words.”

“I agree, of course, but it seems your plan is even more ambitious

than Griswinda’s was.”

“It is. But remember, children learn their prayers from their

mothers, not from their fathers. The Order has existed for ages, so

what are a few decades... Unlike Griswinda I have no hope to see my

plans come to full fruition. The best I can do is set us firmly on a new

course.”

The First Daughter fell silent. Martillia put a hand on her shoulder.

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“Ah, well,” she sighed, “you can readily see that we need to

reinforce our armed branch, the Sisterhood. That’s why I asked you

here. Most of the priestesses of the other Goddesses are not going to

be very happy. Some convincing is likely to be necessary, don’t you

think?”

“Just leave it to me.” Martillia grinned. “You know me. I can be

very persuasive.”

They entered the temple. It was not very imposing, but rather

cozy, comforting. It also wasn’t kept up very well. Votive offerings lay

on the floor as well as on the altar.

“And Anaxantis?” Martillia asked after a while.

“We’ll see. Anyway, we are not going after him. Griswinda’s plan

died with her. We’ll wait till he comes here, to Zyntrea. If he ever

does. He has to survive the Mukthars and his family first. I don’t

know which is the greater danger. In the meantime we’ll concentrate

all our efforts here, where we are strong. Where we have many

chapters. Where we already have a weak king. And then, when and if

he comes, hopefully he’ll find us in a far stronger position.”

She smiled thinly.

“I also want to do something about our finances. We are rich of

course, but I want us to become immensely, unimaginably rich.”

She took a small golden ring from the altar.

“Look here,” she said. “Someone left this very recently, or the

locals would already have stolen it. It’s not worth very much. The

gold is not very pure and the workmanship is shoddy. Yet, I’m sure

this was very valuable for someone. An heirloom of some kind and

probably the only jewelery of any substance the poor soul possessed.

I want to reorganize all that. Offerings should be brought only to the

Great Mother. We will teach people that not even the one and only

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Goddess works for free. We will revive the concept of Murochdill, the

terrible place where wicked people go when they die. We will teach

them that they are all wicked and that only the Great Mother can

save them.”

“And that offerings are the best way to make her smile upon you,”

Martillia scoffed. “I thought the Order didn’t believe in Murochdill?”

“We don’t. But what is known in the inner sanctum of the Order

and what is said to simple people are two different things, my dear.”

She laid the small ring carefully back on the altar.

“Let’s go back outside. We will discuss how we will make the

Sisterhood even more into a finely honed weapon than it is today. I

have a few modest suggestions.”

She went outside. When she had turned her back, Martillia took

the small ring from the altar, grinned at the Goddess and her dove,

and followed the First Daughter.

A few hours later the women were done talking. Martillia

gestured to Dirina to bring the horses.

“Remember what I said about her,” the First Daughter said.

“I will,” Martillia answered.

“But will you do something about it?”

Martillia laughed out loud.

“You’re very pushy, you know, mother?”

Trysulda looked at her with astonishment.

“I think that is the first time since you were five that you have

called me mother,” she said, clearly moved.

“As you tell me so often yourself, you are my mother, aren’t you?”

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They looked at each other and laughed.

“Yes, my daughter, that I am.”

When the First Daughter was gone, Martillia and Dirina mounted

their horses in their turn. Martillia set a leisurely pace.

“So,” she said to the still brooding girl, “I was thinking of not going

immediately immediately to the chapter house.”

“Oh?” was all she got by way of response.

“No, I fancy a good meal and some pitchers of strong wine. You

could go to the chapter house on your own, I suppose, but there is

this quiet tavern I know.”

“And you want me to go with you?”

Martillia nodded.

“My treat. And don’t worry about the wine. They have a stable

and clean rooms.”

“Do they now?” Dirina said with budding enthusiasm.

Martillia smiled at her.

“I can’t afford two rooms, though, so you will have to share the

bed with me. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll manage somehow,” Dirina said, barely capable of restraining

herself from jumping on Martillia’s horse and smothering her with

kisses.

“It works. It works. I prayed to the great Goddess Murandana and

already she is fulfilling my wish. She truly is the Goddess of lost causes,

for if ever there was a hopeless case it was Martillia. A shame it cost me

mother’s ring though.”

“Before I forget,” Martillia said casually, groping around in her

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pouch and retrieving a small object, “here is your ring back. I found

it on the floor of the temple. You must have lost it.”

Dirina took the ring with open mouth and thanked the Goddess

even more. She obviously didn’t want to get paid for her kindness.

“You should be more careful, my dear. It would be a shame to lose

such a beautiful ring. Not that you need it, but it looks so pretty on

your hand. What you do need, however, is someone to take care of

you.”

Dirina smiled sheepishly. She would have happily died then and

there.

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“Thank you,” Emelasuntha said, and she smiled radiantly. She