Chapter 23
848th cycle of God, 40th day of Genasfall 15th year of the true Ascendancy
Gorian felt more special, more important than he ever had before. Like an actor perhaps, only this was better because an actor merely entertained. What he was doing could affect all their destinies. Ossacer had been selected too, but he had been almost too scared to do any work. Lucky they had selected easy tasks for him or he would have failed and made them all look foolish. Gorian determined to show them something far better.
Father Kessian had asked him to go slow and explain everything as he went but he wasn't sure they'd be able to hear that much. The noise in the shed was terrible. The cow was in extraordinary pain, the calf inside her was a breech. She was dying and so would her young one unless he did something quickly. Surgery would only help the newborn. He could save them both.
Gwythen Terol was with him. She had taught him everything she knew about the skills of a Herd Master and still she could help him. But by the time he was nine, he had known more than she ever would. The moment they had walked into the barn, the heifer's legs had collapsed beneath her, unable to take her body weight now the pain had become so intense.
She had turned her head to Gorian, recognising his aura and pleading with her eyes for him to help her. His calming touch allowed the herdsmen to place ropes around her body and over beams above to haul her upright when the time came. Her head was turned away from him and held by two men to keep her from damaging herself. Her body rippled with the effort of staying alive. Her lungs heaved and she was soaked with sweat.
Gorian moved to one side of her while Gwythen went to the other side. Both placed hands on her flanks. 'Can you feel the calf?' she asked.
Gorian nodded. He let the wildly pulsing energies in the heifer enter him and filtered out the pain to leave two beats. One, frail and terribly fast, was the calf's.
'It's still alive but very distressed,' he said. 'What I've done is allow the mother's lifelines to run through me. It means I can feel much more than Gwythen who is only able to work out general physical states. I can tell you things about every individual muscle, nerve and vein.'
'How is that possible?' asked one man, voice only just carrying over the din of the heifer.
Gorian looked round at him briefly. He was quite old and had only ever frowned since he'd got off his horse. An engineer or scientist apparently. 'Because I am connected to the nature of all living things. And if I concentrate, I can feel and change anything I want to. I don't expect you to understand because you will never know what I see through my senses.'
'Gorian, concentrate on the job in hand,' said Marshal Vasselis, whose proud and pompous son stood next to him, hand on a sword he could probably hardly use. 'We all agree that this cow will soon die along with her calf. What we are here to see is the result of your intervention.'
'Yes, Marshal,' said Gorian. 'I need to establish the exact position of the calf. We know it is breech but it might be possible to turn it and so save them both.'
He leaned in closer to the heifer. The animal stank of sweat, faeces and fear. Its hide rippled and in the enclosure, Gorian felt a few nerves. Should it buck or shift with any remaining mote of strength it could crush him. But it seemed able only to bellow its pain and its helpless rage. He breathed in the strong scents and tried to shut the stench from his mind.
'Not long now,' he whispered to them both.
The heifer's life energies were uneven and they pulsed stress and fading strength through him. He traced back along them to where they were sheared or trapped. He drew in a sharp breath. At that moment the heifer shuddered violently and vomited bile and blood.
'What is it?' asked Gwythen. 'I can feel strain in many muscles. There must be some torn.'
'Yes,' said Gorian. 'And it's worse, too. They are all in spasm around the womb. The calf is not quite breech. She is lying with her lower back across the birth canal and the mother can't relax to let her move.' He raised his voice. 'I can trace all the individual lines of energy that signify the womb muscles and the way they are reacting with each other. What I must do is use myself to force the cow's own energy through those lines so the muscles relax and contract in the correct order. I hope you understand what needs to happen even if not the way I will make it happen.'
'You will use your mind?' asked the tall, severe man, Jhered. The Gatherer who scared them with a sharp look.
'Not exactly,' said Gorian. 'My mind understands what my senses can see and makes pictures in my head of it all. I use my whole body to change or amplify the energy I bring into myself from outside.'
'Good enough for now, lad,' said Jhered. 'Get on and do what you must. This noise and stink is making my head spin.'
It was quite easy, really. Gwythen kept her eye on the heifer to make sure he wasn't causing her too much more pain while he worked out the way to use the animal's own body to move her calf. There was a rhythm to it and the moment he began it, the heifer did a great part of the work herself. The calf reacted too, jerking to point its nose down, seeking its way out.
Gorian could feel the mother relax as the pain eased and the birth neared. He fed energy into the last of the lines and the calf entered the birth canal. The heifer reacted the way nature intended she should, and tried to stand.
'Gwythen, move!'
Gorian dived out of the front of the stall. The cow shifted and struck the side where he'd been crouched. Strong arms pulled on ropes and dragged her upright. She lowed, long and pained. Gorian could feel the strain of her body through the air itself and saw the rippling in her flanks.
The calf was born in a tremendous rush. It spilled out in its sac, bringing blood and slime with it and sprawled in the hay. Gorian rushed forwards and took the slithering new born in his arms, freeing its nose, mouth and eyes. The owner reached in to free it from the umbilical cord and immediately, the calf tried to rise while its mother sought to turn to lick it clean and push it to suckle.
'All safe now little one,' said Gorian, stroking its slimy, quivering body. 'I had your life in my hands there, didn't I? Lucky I wanted you to live, eh?'
He stood up and wiped his hands down his tunic. It was covered in sludge and blood. He smiled at Kessian and the Marshal. Everyone seemed to be frowning back at him.
'I did it,' he said, in case they'd failed to see his triumph. 'They would both have died without me.'
'What did you mean, "Lucky I wanted you to live"?' asked Jhered.
'Just that,' said Gorian, irritable that his work had been taken so lightly.
'And does that mean that you could have killed it just as easily with your . . .' He waved his hands searching for the words. 'Abilities.'
Gorian frowned. 'I just meant that because I wanted it to live, it lived. I was here, I could help, I gave it its life. No one else could have done that. What's wrong with you, can't you see that?'
'All right, Gorian,' said Kessian. 'He has to ask his questions. Try not to get upset.'
'I gave it its life,' he said, staring at Jhered and finding himself unafraid. 'And I would do the same for you, too, if you asked me. Would you be so suspicious then?' He looked for his mother. Meera was there nodding at him, telling him he'd done well. I need to rest. I'm tired.'
They parted to let him go but he could still hear them talking after him but not about him. Already, they'd forgotten what he'd done. None of them could do it. Why weren't they amazed?
'Where to now, Lord Jhered?' Marshal Vasselis asked the Gatherer.
'Your Reader, I think. She has some questions of a difficult theological nature to answer. Then, uh, Kessian, isn't it? Kessian, I will want to talk to you. Don't go far.'
Their voices became indistinct.
'What will they do?' Gorian asked his mother.
'I don't know, my darling,' she said, holding him close to her. 'But you have shown them how much good you can do. So have Ossacer and the others but you saved two lives. They cannot congratulate you, they have to suspect you. That is their job. Try not to worry. Get some rest instead. They'll want to talk to you more, I am sure.'
'Why can't they just accept us like everyone else here?'
Meera sighed. 'Oh, love, that is a hard question. The world is a big and mistrustful place and people are scared of things they don't understand. Most of Westfallen were too for a time. The Order doesn't see things quite the way Elsa Gueran does. One day you'll understand.'
'So why aren't they here asking questions?'
Meera's face clouded. 'Because they are not interested in asking questions, only in making judgements. Be happy we are under investigation by the Advocacy and not the Order.'
And though he pressed her, she would not say more.
Elsa Gueran did not know whether to be scared or relieved, quiescent or defiant. She faced Jhered, Harkov and D'Allinnius alone in the House of Masks. If any here were truly guilty of heresy then surely it began with this woman. Pretty, even beautiful in her facial features but a woman who had systematically abused the teachings of the Order for her own and Westfallen's purposes. Such was Jhered's assumption when he faced her. Could she convince him otherwise. Or perhaps it would be Harkov who would do that in the analysis that would follow.
'I know you will think little of me, Exchequer Jhered. All I ask is that you question me fairly and listen to my answers. Everything I do I believe to be God's will.'
'Let me assure you I think nothing of you whatsoever. That you wear the robes of a Reader and sit proud in a House of Masks is an affront. And that you must have had complicity within the Order to maintain your deception makes me sick to my stomach. How far does this go towards Estorr, I wonder?'
'Do you want an answer to that question?' she asked, trying not to show her nervousness at his vehemence.
'It is as good a place to start as any and perhaps the easiest question you will have to answer today,' he said. 'Go ahead. I'm listening.'
'Whatever my feelings towards the Order as an organisation and the disbursement of its strictures, I will not implicate it in any way in the extraordinary things we are doing here,' said Elsa. And she surprised Jhered by smiling. 'After all, why should they take the credit?'
'You have not answered my question,' said Jhered.
Elsa met his gaze squarely. The light of late afternoon streamed in through the open double doors. It shone from the polished root scrollwork that embossed every inch of wood in the House and the masks that covered the walls, low domed ceiling and racks of shelving. The cooling sea breeze ruffled the stacked volumes of the Chronicles of Memory, exposing the early pages of the topmost to reveal flashes of colour, intricate design and likenesses of the dead in detail laden with emotion.
'Westfallen's Reader has always believed in the truth as presented by the banished strand of the Order because we are not scared of what it represents. We do not believe it will undermine our authority, quite the reverse. But this means the Reader is chosen from a small pool of Order acolytes, many of whom have never been granted the keys to a House of Masks or the lawn on which to preach.
'We are in careful contact, building what must be built because it is the true word of God as we see it.' She held up her hands. 'But I know most do not agree with us so we do not seek to force our views on any to whom they are unwelcome.
'And because we do not want the interference of the wider Order, Westfallen is kept apart. If you have the allies, it is easy to dissuade others from travelling here. After all, I can just as easily report on such a quiet and faithful place by making the journey to Cirandon. And as you know, we have one very powerful ally.'
Jhered's hands had been cupping nose and mouth. It had been an unconscious move and he removed them slowly. The woman's arrogance was breathtaking. He had expected her to hide behind the scriptures, quote obscure passages that justified her heretic views. But she was brazen, confident in those she assumed would protect her because the Order was not there to deliver its justice. Jhered might have had little time for the zealous pronouncements of a Chancellor in pursuit of control but this was surely just as bad. Innocents would have been misled, perverted from the path of faith and God.
He looked across at Harkov and D'Allinnius. The latter was impassive, the former regarded Gueran with apparent respect and a slight smile. He quashed his immediate anger. It was why he had picked them to help him after all. Vasselis deserved balance if nothing else.
'What you have said is an admission of guilt under the law of the Order,' said Jhered. 'You mock the place in which we sit and the title before your name. Your actions should see you burn. You're lucky it is me you will answer to.'
'I am,' agreed Elsa. 'But then that is why you are here without the Order, isn't it? You are supposed to represent reason and impartiality, aren't you?'
'No,' said Jhered firmly. 'I am here at the request of the Advocate, following admissions from Marshal Defender Vasselis, to assess whether your . . . experiments, are a crime against the Conquord, the Omniscient or both. I am not impartial and you will do well to bear that in mind. Now. Questions and straight answers.
'The Order discredited and outlawed the splinter faith hundreds of years ago. Its observance is forbidden to followers of any faith as a perversion of God's teachings. What right do you have to preach it here?'
'I preach the teachings of the scriptures. The splinter faith, if that is how you want to describe it, is not preached. It is everywhere, in all our lives. I do not need to tell what all here already know.'
'You're saying that none in Westfallen reject your beliefs?' asked Harkov.
Elsa smiled and shook her head. 'I don't think that any of you have the remotest conception of what you have come to investigate. The splinter faith, which we term the Ascendancy by the way, has been part of the life of Westfallen for centuries. Ever since it was rejected by the Order. It is the natural order of life to us as it should be to all who follow our faith.'
Jhered scoffed. 'You are pushing your luck, Reader Gueran. I have studied the scriptures at great length. I am a true follower, a faithful believer in the Order of Omniscience. You play with heresy just as you play with nature. How can it be the natural order of life to bring rain where God has brought blue sky. Or to take control of the body of a cow to bring a life into the world that God had clearly decided should not be begun? Where in the scriptures is this written?'