37.

Sacrifices

There was a reflexive tightening of my body at the mention of the box.

“Yes.

Smaller sins are punished not by prison but by… people are put in a coffin in their neighborhood’s Rodwin church.

And they are made to lie there for days at a time.

No reprieve or sustenance and… other faithful parishioners pray over them as they repent.”

How I got through that explanation, I did not know.

I had never even told Helena about the box.

I thought of the voices that had prayed over my many boxings, the voices meant to ask for grace, damning me instead.

A dishonor upon your husband.

Rebellious.

Barren.

Useless.

A waste of a womb.

We were not meant to know who was boxed, but they knew when it was me.

I thought of pissing on myself and the one shameful time I had been forced to defecate in the box.

I thought of the hunger and thirst.

I thought of the loneliness.

I thought of the lack of light.

I blinked rapidly.

Cian was shaking his head.

“And they call us savages.

You moved to Eccleston then?”

“I believe life is meant to be lived.

Not confined.”

I smiled, hoping I had deflected.

“I am in agreement.”

“As one raised in the church of Rodwin, I have been brought up to believe that behavior is everything.

Is that so with your faith?”

“Smart question.

The answer is yes and no.

And my answer may lead to another lecture.

Are you hungry? I can have lunch served for us in here.”

“Only if you think that best.”

“We will see how long I drone on.

In order to use our magic, we must make sacrifices.

The easiest is a blood offering.

Even Tintarians without magic often worship via a few drops of blood to their chosen god.

Fire drops it into flame.

Sea drops it into water.

Air worshippers blow the droplets from the cut.

And of course, those of us who worship our Mother, give blood to the ground.

That is the easiest way to access the magic.

And most blessed Tintarians can only use their blood.

Then there is meditation, but it takes many winters of practice to use magic that way.

And a third method is abstract and dangerous and that is sacrifice of the self.”

“Sacrifice of the self?”

“The heart.

The soul.

The mind.”

Cian lifted an elegant hand.

“See? It’s abstract sacrifice.

Body parts are another facet of this but it is a desperate attempt to regain what Tintar had when we were an ancient, powerful people.

It has not been successfully done other than Yro’s eyes in my lifetime or the lifetime before that.”

“His eyes?”

“Yes.

I’m sure you noticed them in the throne room.

Our archpriest of Brother Air is a great prophet and mystic.

He begged Brother Air for true sight and lost his natural sight.

He is a powerful man.

Quiet though.

I would imagine those truths are heavy.”

I shuddered.

“And so, as I learn what magic I have… I must bleed?”

“Small incisions.

On your hand, like what I gave you on your wedding day.”

“Is it daily? The cutting?”

I thought of Alric’s bloodied left hand on mornings in Nyossa.

Cian chuckled.

“Oh, gods, no, Edie.

We will guide you gradually.

Just a drop here and there.

I’m sorry.

I have no intention of frightening you.

I have yet to explain all else that we do in the Mother’s temple and that is bureaucracy.

Once you finish those three books, I will hand you an absolutely mind-numbing account of our farming practices, laws and taxes.

For that is also what we manage here in this temple.

I’m sure you observed that in the antechamber.”

“Oh, yes.

This functions as an office of agriculture for Pikestully.”

“Yes.

And smaller cities and towns that have farming issues that cannot be managed by their local priests bring their troubles to us.”

“So I will learn my penchant, learn how to use it and learn how to be a type of judge?”

“I like how succinct you are and yes, to all three.

The third one I will not impose the responsibility of upon you any time soon.

You will have time to educate yourself and observe us.”

“I have but one more question. I am,”

I paused, thinking of Alric’s words the night before we married.

“I was kingless and godless.

I return to behavior.

I think I know how to show respect to the king and his brother.

But I have not had a faith for many winters.

I worry about showing the appropriate respect and conduct for… her.”

Cian’s smile was wide.

“Unlike your Saint Rodwin, the Four do not hold grudges against non-believers.

A good example would be your husband’s sergeants.

Sergeant Thatcher is blessed by Brother Air and yet, he does not even habitually bleed for Brother Air or pray.

The man makes no sound when he moves.

He is stealth itself.

You know he was raised by Helmsmen?”

I shook my head.

“Do you know about the Helmsmen?”

I nodded.

All continent dwellers knew of the barbaric Helmsmen clans in the Hintercliff mountain range that bordered the northern part of Tintar.

They bore their name as they claimed they had sailed the sea long before Tintar ruled the coastline.

They had been battling with Tintar over the territory for winters, but Hinnom’s armies had beaten them back into the mountains.

“They raided his village when he was a small child.

He was the only survivor as far we know.

It was a settlement on a small peat bog in one of the shallower valleys that border the Hintercliff.

Very sad story.

Do not tell him I tell you it.

He was raised by them until he was perhaps ten winters.

Then, our army, wanting to reclaim the peat bog, set up camp there and he escaped, running to the units encamped.

I think he knew he was not a Helms child.

Anyway, he always thought his stealth was from being raised by Helmsmen.

But his blessing was quickly recognized.

Again it is that third, nebulous method of sacrifice.

He lost his entire family so young and I understand he has suffered other hardships.

Brother Air blessed him, but Sergeant Thatcher rarely worships.

Brother Air holds it not against him.”

“They are not vindictive, the Four?”

“No.

Perhaps his magic would be even more powerful if he did worship more, but Brother Air does not take it away.

And, on the other hand, Sergeant Spinner is obsessively devout to the Brother, to all the Four and has much in the way of sword craft.

There is no better swordsman in Tintar.

If you get a chance to watch him in the training yards, do so.”

“Perch’s family name is Spinner?”

“He is of a large fishing family.

They not only fish, they make, and have made, for as long as can be remembered, a specialized lure called a spinner.

They worship Sister Sea, but their son is gifted by Brother Air.

It can never be explained, sometimes a family that worships one god is blessed by another.”

“So our behavior is almost without consequence?”

“Yes.

It is better to err on the side of heedfulness, but they are not punishing deities.

Let us take luncheon in the hall.

We can continue later.

It has been hours!”

I stood as he did.

“It has been, but I confess, this is fascinating to me.”