And?”
“And when I left Ұiờ I went to Fortesta to receive my assignation, then I came straight to you, so I haven’t had a chance to go back yet.”
Which was an answer, and also not an answer at all. He settled back down and we lay in silence for a bit.
“Is Lya Myn really a Nea’thi goddess?”
He sighed quietly. “Oh no, she’s not a goddess.”
There was silence again. I was almost asleep when I’m sure I heard him mutter “She’s pretty close though.”
I thought about questioning him further, but weariness clouded my mind and before I could think of anything else to say, I was asleep.
he highway grew steadily busier as we travelled north-west towards Lille, and our pace slowed considerably with the increased traffic on the highway. We managed to find wayside inns to stay at every night, each one showing signs of being closer to the Capitol. Each had more travellers staying, the food was richer, the beds more comfortable. With so much more population in evidence, Charlie and I were not remarkable, and though we had excellent service everywhere we stayed, the innkeepers were too busy, almost distracted to afford us the congeniality we had been shown by Myr Rudi. Nevertheless, by the end of every evening in the common rooms of these highway inns, Charlie had gathered around him groups of other travellers eager for his stories and the gentle fun of his company. He continued to amaze me with the easy way he seemed to slot into the company of any given tavern.
Since the incident with the bridge guards however, he had started placing protective barriers on the doors and windows of our rooms, just in case.
Just in case of what? I wondered, but didn’t ask. Surely people wouldn’t try to break into our rooms, but I didn’t want to seem naïve.
On the ninth day of our travels Charlie woke me early, before dawn. I protested and rolled over, desperate for more sleep, but he was insistent.
“Come on kiddo, if we leave now we can get to Lille by nightfall.”
We were almost there! Charlie’s excitement was contagious, so I struggled out of bed, packed my things and ate a quick breakfast, and our horses were saddled and ready to go by the time the sun was reaching pale fingers of light across the hills.
We rode steadily all morning. It was a clear, beautiful day, a hint of a breeze rustling the leaves of the groves of trees nestled in the small valleys, their topmost leaves touched gold by autumn. At lunchtime we came across a small temple of Queen Lilbecz, and we dismounted and led our horses through a verdigrised copper gate to be met by a young, bald, yellow-robed Acolyte. As I had told Charlie, our family never had much to do with the Temple at home, so I was unsure as how to proceed, but he bowed to her respectfully so I followed suit.
“Welcome friends, let me take your mounts, you must be weary from your ride.” She gestured that we were to enter the temple as she led our horses around the side and tethered them close to a small pool. Inside, my eyes took a while to adjust after the bright sunlight outside, but Charlie moved unerringly forward.
Branches of candelabra glittered around the outside and down the centre aisle, while above, beautiful round windows of coloured glass glowed. Rows of benches faced a large altar at the front, and behind that on a high pedestal stood a statue of a bald woman, clearly Nea’thi, the word
remember
inscribed clearly on the stone sash draped across her shoulder.
Queen Lilbecz was not a goddess, or even really worshipped as such, but she had been the leader of the Leaving, persuading the rest of her race to leave their subterranean homes to aidthe war and poverty-stricken Humans of the Outside, in the end sacrificing her own life for peace. The Nea’thi had realised upon the Leaving that religious divisions and dogma had caused insufferable harm to Human society. They themselves had followed no particular religious beliefs in the Enclaves, their
“And when I left Ұiờ I went to Fortesta to receive my assignation, then I came straight to you, so I haven’t had a chance to go back yet.”
Which was an answer, and also not an answer at all. He settled back down and we lay in silence for a bit.
“Is Lya Myn really a Nea’thi goddess?”
He sighed quietly. “Oh no, she’s not a goddess.”
There was silence again. I was almost asleep when I’m sure I heard him mutter “She’s pretty close though.”
I thought about questioning him further, but weariness clouded my mind and before I could think of anything else to say, I was asleep.
he highway grew steadily busier as we travelled north-west towards Lille, and our pace slowed considerably with the increased traffic on the highway. We managed to find wayside inns to stay at every night, each one showing signs of being closer to the Capitol. Each had more travellers staying, the food was richer, the beds more comfortable. With so much more population in evidence, Charlie and I were not remarkable, and though we had excellent service everywhere we stayed, the innkeepers were too busy, almost distracted to afford us the congeniality we had been shown by Myr Rudi. Nevertheless, by the end of every evening in the common rooms of these highway inns, Charlie had gathered around him groups of other travellers eager for his stories and the gentle fun of his company. He continued to amaze me with the easy way he seemed to slot into the company of any given tavern.
Since the incident with the bridge guards however, he had started placing protective barriers on the doors and windows of our rooms, just in case.
Just in case of what? I wondered, but didn’t ask. Surely people wouldn’t try to break into our rooms, but I didn’t want to seem naïve.
On the ninth day of our travels Charlie woke me early, before dawn. I protested and rolled over, desperate for more sleep, but he was insistent.
“Come on kiddo, if we leave now we can get to Lille by nightfall.”
We were almost there! Charlie’s excitement was contagious, so I struggled out of bed, packed my things and ate a quick breakfast, and our horses were saddled and ready to go by the time the sun was reaching pale fingers of light across the hills.
We rode steadily all morning. It was a clear, beautiful day, a hint of a breeze rustling the leaves of the groves of trees nestled in the small valleys, their topmost leaves touched gold by autumn. At lunchtime we came across a small temple of Queen Lilbecz, and we dismounted and led our horses through a verdigrised copper gate to be met by a young, bald, yellow-robed Acolyte. As I had told Charlie, our family never had much to do with the Temple at home, so I was unsure as how to proceed, but he bowed to her respectfully so I followed suit.
“Welcome friends, let me take your mounts, you must be weary from your ride.” She gestured that we were to enter the temple as she led our horses around the side and tethered them close to a small pool. Inside, my eyes took a while to adjust after the bright sunlight outside, but Charlie moved unerringly forward.
Branches of candelabra glittered around the outside and down the centre aisle, while above, beautiful round windows of coloured glass glowed. Rows of benches faced a large altar at the front, and behind that on a high pedestal stood a statue of a bald woman, clearly Nea’thi, the word
remember
inscribed clearly on the stone sash draped across her shoulder.
Queen Lilbecz was not a goddess, or even really worshipped as such, but she had been the leader of the Leaving, persuading the rest of her race to leave their subterranean homes to aidthe war and poverty-stricken Humans of the Outside, in the end sacrificing her own life for peace. The Nea’thi had realised upon the Leaving that religious divisions and dogma had caused insufferable harm to Human society. They themselves had followed no particular religious beliefs in the Enclaves, their
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