Read Online Jadde - The Fragile Sanctuary by Clive Ousley - Free Book Online
Authors: Clive Ousley
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priest’s eyes had
shown sincerity, and he really did enjoy learning. ‘Of course Sire, knowledge
is what I crave – knowledge of the scriptures bound in my love of the great Goddess.’
‘You are a competent and keen pupil, how
the High of Priests could have been suspicious of you I do not know.’
‘I am glad of your support Sire.’
‘Do not address me as Sire again, a simple
Steth will suffice.’
‘Thank you Steth.’
‘I had been commanded to report on your
progress to the High of Priests after every lesson. Another priest checks your transcriptions.
I think I will recommend ceasing surveillance. You are too willing, and too
useful for the priesthood to continue being suspicious.’ He sighed, ‘if only
you had been born to serve us and not just to hunt and farm, you could have
risen to high rank in time.’
‘It is my life Steth. I must provide for my
wife and children. But I do what I can to learn and elevate myself whenever
possible.’
‘High ideals young friend – I admire you.’
And now back in Jadde’s hall Nardin was
just relieved that only Malkrin had a highsense that could read his thoughts as
he watched his friend led away. It had all been going so well – until Malkrin’s
arrest. Nardin wondered whether he would ever see his friend again.
Malkrin felt the sorrow of his friends, the
triumph of his few enemies, the indifference of the priesthood and the
satisfaction of the Brenna. The warped translation of Jadde’s laws was once
again completed.
‘Open the Gates of Justice,’ Bredon the
Fox boomed the ceremonial words to end the trial. Malkrin was led to barred
iron doors by the two guards that had stood either side of him during the trial.
A Brenna guard swung the doors open. Once out of sight of the people in the
hall the two guards pushed him down the stone steps to his cell. Malkrin’s
manacles and chains rattled in a demons accompaniment as he tottered down the
damp steps lit by flaming torches. The finality of the heavy cell door slamming
cut any lingering murmuring in his highsense.
CHAPTER SIX
M alkrin felt the cold wind stinging his raw ankles
where the shackles had rubbed. With a limp he trudged along an animal path
meandering along the only route from the mountainous valleys of Cyprusnia. The
frontier sentry posts and the palisade guarding the fertile valleys were over
two days march behind him. Before him stretched the massive cleft called Darent
Pass which wandered between rain-lashed mountain ridges. The wind channelled along
this wide crevice causing him to lean into it to make headway. Coarse switch-grass
amongst the moss covered rocks blew horizontally as he continued to stumble
along the narrow pass. The path led in a day’s travel to the unknown lands and
nameless dangers.
He’d been deposited two days ago by Brenna
warriors commanded by the priest Sire Helm Rantiss. They’d struck the fetters
from his wrists and ankles with a hammer against the nearest rock, jarring his
limbs. The young priest had laughed at the pain caused as the circulation
returned to Malkrin’s hands and feet.
‘On your way outcast, and may your
lowsense guard you.’ He’d laughed at his insult, normally only spoken to
murderers and rapists. It was obvious the priest never expected to see him
again.
‘I’ll be back for you Rantiss,’
Malkrin had rasped between gritted teeth. He turned his back on his antagonist,
picked up his meagre pack and limped off.
They’d thrown him a battered leather backpack
and an old goatskin coat he’d used to cover a leak in his and Cabryce’s cottage
roof. His baggy leggings were bound around his ankles with leather thongs; he
had been allowed to keep his stout footwear. At least I’ll keep fairly dry, he
thought as he trudged further from all he’d known. Someone had managed to
smuggle some cheese, bread, oatcake and a sharp flint into his pack along with
a leather water container and a fur for
shown sincerity, and he really did enjoy learning. ‘Of course Sire, knowledge
is what I crave – knowledge of the scriptures bound in my love of the great Goddess.’
‘You are a competent and keen pupil, how
the High of Priests could have been suspicious of you I do not know.’
‘I am glad of your support Sire.’
‘Do not address me as Sire again, a simple
Steth will suffice.’
‘Thank you Steth.’
‘I had been commanded to report on your
progress to the High of Priests after every lesson. Another priest checks your transcriptions.
I think I will recommend ceasing surveillance. You are too willing, and too
useful for the priesthood to continue being suspicious.’ He sighed, ‘if only
you had been born to serve us and not just to hunt and farm, you could have
risen to high rank in time.’
‘It is my life Steth. I must provide for my
wife and children. But I do what I can to learn and elevate myself whenever
possible.’
‘High ideals young friend – I admire you.’
And now back in Jadde’s hall Nardin was
just relieved that only Malkrin had a highsense that could read his thoughts as
he watched his friend led away. It had all been going so well – until Malkrin’s
arrest. Nardin wondered whether he would ever see his friend again.
Malkrin felt the sorrow of his friends, the
triumph of his few enemies, the indifference of the priesthood and the
satisfaction of the Brenna. The warped translation of Jadde’s laws was once
again completed.
‘Open the Gates of Justice,’ Bredon the
Fox boomed the ceremonial words to end the trial. Malkrin was led to barred
iron doors by the two guards that had stood either side of him during the trial.
A Brenna guard swung the doors open. Once out of sight of the people in the
hall the two guards pushed him down the stone steps to his cell. Malkrin’s
manacles and chains rattled in a demons accompaniment as he tottered down the
damp steps lit by flaming torches. The finality of the heavy cell door slamming
cut any lingering murmuring in his highsense.
CHAPTER SIX
M alkrin felt the cold wind stinging his raw ankles
where the shackles had rubbed. With a limp he trudged along an animal path
meandering along the only route from the mountainous valleys of Cyprusnia. The
frontier sentry posts and the palisade guarding the fertile valleys were over
two days march behind him. Before him stretched the massive cleft called Darent
Pass which wandered between rain-lashed mountain ridges. The wind channelled along
this wide crevice causing him to lean into it to make headway. Coarse switch-grass
amongst the moss covered rocks blew horizontally as he continued to stumble
along the narrow pass. The path led in a day’s travel to the unknown lands and
nameless dangers.
He’d been deposited two days ago by Brenna
warriors commanded by the priest Sire Helm Rantiss. They’d struck the fetters
from his wrists and ankles with a hammer against the nearest rock, jarring his
limbs. The young priest had laughed at the pain caused as the circulation
returned to Malkrin’s hands and feet.
‘On your way outcast, and may your
lowsense guard you.’ He’d laughed at his insult, normally only spoken to
murderers and rapists. It was obvious the priest never expected to see him
again.
‘I’ll be back for you Rantiss,’
Malkrin had rasped between gritted teeth. He turned his back on his antagonist,
picked up his meagre pack and limped off.
They’d thrown him a battered leather backpack
and an old goatskin coat he’d used to cover a leak in his and Cabryce’s cottage
roof. His baggy leggings were bound around his ankles with leather thongs; he
had been allowed to keep his stout footwear. At least I’ll keep fairly dry, he
thought as he trudged further from all he’d known. Someone had managed to
smuggle some cheese, bread, oatcake and a sharp flint into his pack along with
a leather water container and a fur for
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