assessments and calculations, knowing that what was coming was going to be horrible indeed, and it was better to face something like that without thinking about it.
He laid there for what seemed like hours, unmoving, his joints and muscles painfully rigid and unyielding. Unable to blink, barely able to breath. Hugh tried to think of every possible way out of this mess, but he came up empty. Hopelessly bound to this inevitable course of action he began to accept that he would be unable to change his fate; at least that is what he would let his tormentors believe.
Hugh was thinking of something he learned long ago during his studies as member of the Order of the Open Palm, a monastic order devoted to Zuhr. There were methods of meditation and mental escape that could help one endure suffering and pain and he was certainly skilled in those. But the monks also taught him something he desperately hoped he hadn’t thought of too late; the surrender . The surrender had been used with success by the monks whose roots went back centuries before the advent of the Order of the Open Palm. In those days of strife and war, the monks had been trusted to carry out highly secret missions for the church. According to his mentors, a few had successfully employed this method to save themselves from horrible torture and to protect the secrets of their god. However, one must define success, he thought, pragmatically. Then, he reconsidered.
There was no need to define that at all.
Judging that any fate on his own terms would be far better than having his soul sent to serve Qra’z in the afterlife and his body turned into a willing vessel for one of the cursed Cjii to possess and steal his thoughts, he began the meditation process that he hoped would end his life on his own terms. The surrender had one purpose; to free the soul and send it to join the father of all gods, Zuhr, in paradise.
For a long time he remained alone in the chamber with the not-so-lifeless corpses watching over him. Dimly he became aware of voices but he efficiently tuned them out and concentrated on surrendering his soul to heaven. Slowly he became tired and concentration became more difficult as his mind tried to wander off into the dream world. But he knew that was a trap for the unwary, and the dream world would lead him to wakefulness and pain and the betrayal of those he trusted most; including his new faith in Zuhr. No, he focused his mind on the goal at hand and the dream world slipped by him. Now he seemed in another place, far from his own world, drifting among the stars. A bright light shined, blinding him, as though a door had been opened to illuminate the darkness. Finally, he could see again and walked toward the door. As he entered the doorway, leaving his mortal world behind, pure knowledge flooded his mind and he understood. Everything. There were no more questions. Now he understood why.
His vision and hearing and other senses left him then and all he knew was the pure happiness of being with Zuhr. Pain was a distant memory and was gone. He left the world behind then, and nothing else mattered.
C H A P T E R
4
Powyss.
Zach spent a good deal of time in the Fighting Hens Inn attempting to learn the extent of Morloth’s powers and waiting to see if anyone else decided to try murdering him in his sleep. But he did not learn much that he had not already known in those first few days and encountered no assassins; so decided he would venture out and explore the city. Zach spent the morning walking the streets of the Port of Powyss and otherwise enjoying himself immensely. In the port area, Zach found there were shops and restaurants and inns and brothels and even traveling shows. At one point he thought he saw the familiar form of Bart, the bard, and the other companions he had been traveling with before they were all drawn to their doom at Castle Tyrannus. Zach drifted through the crowd toward the swiftly moving form but lost him in the crowds.
He laid there for what seemed like hours, unmoving, his joints and muscles painfully rigid and unyielding. Unable to blink, barely able to breath. Hugh tried to think of every possible way out of this mess, but he came up empty. Hopelessly bound to this inevitable course of action he began to accept that he would be unable to change his fate; at least that is what he would let his tormentors believe.
Hugh was thinking of something he learned long ago during his studies as member of the Order of the Open Palm, a monastic order devoted to Zuhr. There were methods of meditation and mental escape that could help one endure suffering and pain and he was certainly skilled in those. But the monks also taught him something he desperately hoped he hadn’t thought of too late; the surrender . The surrender had been used with success by the monks whose roots went back centuries before the advent of the Order of the Open Palm. In those days of strife and war, the monks had been trusted to carry out highly secret missions for the church. According to his mentors, a few had successfully employed this method to save themselves from horrible torture and to protect the secrets of their god. However, one must define success, he thought, pragmatically. Then, he reconsidered.
There was no need to define that at all.
Judging that any fate on his own terms would be far better than having his soul sent to serve Qra’z in the afterlife and his body turned into a willing vessel for one of the cursed Cjii to possess and steal his thoughts, he began the meditation process that he hoped would end his life on his own terms. The surrender had one purpose; to free the soul and send it to join the father of all gods, Zuhr, in paradise.
For a long time he remained alone in the chamber with the not-so-lifeless corpses watching over him. Dimly he became aware of voices but he efficiently tuned them out and concentrated on surrendering his soul to heaven. Slowly he became tired and concentration became more difficult as his mind tried to wander off into the dream world. But he knew that was a trap for the unwary, and the dream world would lead him to wakefulness and pain and the betrayal of those he trusted most; including his new faith in Zuhr. No, he focused his mind on the goal at hand and the dream world slipped by him. Now he seemed in another place, far from his own world, drifting among the stars. A bright light shined, blinding him, as though a door had been opened to illuminate the darkness. Finally, he could see again and walked toward the door. As he entered the doorway, leaving his mortal world behind, pure knowledge flooded his mind and he understood. Everything. There were no more questions. Now he understood why.
His vision and hearing and other senses left him then and all he knew was the pure happiness of being with Zuhr. Pain was a distant memory and was gone. He left the world behind then, and nothing else mattered.
C H A P T E R
4
Powyss.
Zach spent a good deal of time in the Fighting Hens Inn attempting to learn the extent of Morloth’s powers and waiting to see if anyone else decided to try murdering him in his sleep. But he did not learn much that he had not already known in those first few days and encountered no assassins; so decided he would venture out and explore the city. Zach spent the morning walking the streets of the Port of Powyss and otherwise enjoying himself immensely. In the port area, Zach found there were shops and restaurants and inns and brothels and even traveling shows. At one point he thought he saw the familiar form of Bart, the bard, and the other companions he had been traveling with before they were all drawn to their doom at Castle Tyrannus. Zach drifted through the crowd toward the swiftly moving form but lost him in the crowds.
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