Read Online The Law of Isolation by Angela Holder - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Angela Holder
Ads: Link
that he questioned his fitness for the Mother’s service, her faith had remained unwavering, and her calm, gentle guidance had helped him find the way back to his true calling.
If Master Dabiel was so troubled by the present situation that she let it show, things must be far worse than Josiah had realized.
Four
T he Matriarch’s audience chamber sweltered in the late summer heat. Hundreds of eyes stared at Gevan. Rank on rank of courtiers, swathed in velvet and satin and shimmering Girodan silk, encircled the room. On the high dais Verinna Fovarre, the Matriarch of Ramunna, sat enthroned. Her skirts were heavy with layers of golden lace, and the gold chain of her office lay against her snowy lace collar. She watched him, her eyes attentive, though most of the men and women attending her exhibited various signs of boredom.
Only the leaders of Ramunna’s three religious factions displayed as much interest. Emirre Rothen, First Keeper of the Temple, sat calmly in his flowing embroidered robes, his thick shock of white hair appearing part of his vestments. In his seventy years, thirty of them as First Keeper, he had seen war, disaster and upheaval sweep over Ramunna, and Gevan doubted any of them had perturbed him in the slightest. He’d certainly never seen the Keeper display anything but serene calm. Gevan expected Rothen to accept the revelation of the window-glass with equanimity. But what he might do afterwards was the real question. He had great influence with the Matriarch, and a few pleasant words in favor of or in opposition to the new device could sway her reaction one way or the other.
Yoran Lirolla, leader of the Purifiers, perched on the edge of his chair. His hands gripped its arms, and his dark eyes bored into Gevan from under the hood of his plain black robe. He’d come to Ramunna from Marvanna ten years ago when he was barely twenty, afire with zeal to spread the Purifier doctrine which dominated their northern neighbor. He’d won many converts. Nearly a third of the Temples in the city were Purifier, and an even higher proportion in the rural areas. It wasn’t enough for him, though. Gevan was sure he would never be happy until every follower of the Mother professed the austere, fanatic beliefs of the Purifiers. For now, the Temple considered the Purifier sect an acceptable variation in the worship of the Mother, but Gevan wondered how long that could last. Yoran constantly declaimed against the laxness and decadence of the Temple and its leaders. Gevan couldn’t deny there was a certain amount of truth to his allegations. But Yoran had alienated Gevan and every other scholar at the University with his sweeping denunciations of any attempt to gain a deeper understanding of the Mother’s universe than was contained within the few ancient documents the Purifiers considered holy.
Far down the ranks of aristocrats, Elder Davon, leader of the Dualist minority, sat quietly, ignoring the space that had formed around him as those seated next to him scooted their chairs aside. Like all good followers of the Mother, Gevan despised the Dualists. But privately he considered them less objectionable than the Purifiers. At least they kept to themselves in the sector of the city reserved to them. Their trading ships were among the most profitable, and they never complained about the double taxes the Matriarch demanded in exchange for her tolerance of their presence. Not that they had much choice; Ramunna was one of the few places in Ravanetha they could find refuge. In Marvanna their faith was illegal, and its adherents were subject to imprisonment or execution if they were discovered. Gevan thought that extreme, even if their beliefs did blaspheme the Mother. The Dualist students he’d had in his classes had been hard working and studious, though lacking in the imagination that made for a truly great scholar. Of course, most of the young men who passed through the University’s halls lacked that quality, so
If Master Dabiel was so troubled by the present situation that she let it show, things must be far worse than Josiah had realized.
Four
T he Matriarch’s audience chamber sweltered in the late summer heat. Hundreds of eyes stared at Gevan. Rank on rank of courtiers, swathed in velvet and satin and shimmering Girodan silk, encircled the room. On the high dais Verinna Fovarre, the Matriarch of Ramunna, sat enthroned. Her skirts were heavy with layers of golden lace, and the gold chain of her office lay against her snowy lace collar. She watched him, her eyes attentive, though most of the men and women attending her exhibited various signs of boredom.
Only the leaders of Ramunna’s three religious factions displayed as much interest. Emirre Rothen, First Keeper of the Temple, sat calmly in his flowing embroidered robes, his thick shock of white hair appearing part of his vestments. In his seventy years, thirty of them as First Keeper, he had seen war, disaster and upheaval sweep over Ramunna, and Gevan doubted any of them had perturbed him in the slightest. He’d certainly never seen the Keeper display anything but serene calm. Gevan expected Rothen to accept the revelation of the window-glass with equanimity. But what he might do afterwards was the real question. He had great influence with the Matriarch, and a few pleasant words in favor of or in opposition to the new device could sway her reaction one way or the other.
Yoran Lirolla, leader of the Purifiers, perched on the edge of his chair. His hands gripped its arms, and his dark eyes bored into Gevan from under the hood of his plain black robe. He’d come to Ramunna from Marvanna ten years ago when he was barely twenty, afire with zeal to spread the Purifier doctrine which dominated their northern neighbor. He’d won many converts. Nearly a third of the Temples in the city were Purifier, and an even higher proportion in the rural areas. It wasn’t enough for him, though. Gevan was sure he would never be happy until every follower of the Mother professed the austere, fanatic beliefs of the Purifiers. For now, the Temple considered the Purifier sect an acceptable variation in the worship of the Mother, but Gevan wondered how long that could last. Yoran constantly declaimed against the laxness and decadence of the Temple and its leaders. Gevan couldn’t deny there was a certain amount of truth to his allegations. But Yoran had alienated Gevan and every other scholar at the University with his sweeping denunciations of any attempt to gain a deeper understanding of the Mother’s universe than was contained within the few ancient documents the Purifiers considered holy.
Far down the ranks of aristocrats, Elder Davon, leader of the Dualist minority, sat quietly, ignoring the space that had formed around him as those seated next to him scooted their chairs aside. Like all good followers of the Mother, Gevan despised the Dualists. But privately he considered them less objectionable than the Purifiers. At least they kept to themselves in the sector of the city reserved to them. Their trading ships were among the most profitable, and they never complained about the double taxes the Matriarch demanded in exchange for her tolerance of their presence. Not that they had much choice; Ramunna was one of the few places in Ravanetha they could find refuge. In Marvanna their faith was illegal, and its adherents were subject to imprisonment or execution if they were discovered. Gevan thought that extreme, even if their beliefs did blaspheme the Mother. The Dualist students he’d had in his classes had been hard working and studious, though lacking in the imagination that made for a truly great scholar. Of course, most of the young men who passed through the University’s halls lacked that quality, so
Similar Books
