Crown of Shadows - C. S. Friedman [215]
Watch now, he bade Vryce silently. Gaze upon true faith, in all its fearsome glory.
He raised up a hand to still the group, and dozens of whispered conversations ceased. In the silence that resulted, it seemed to him he could hear their hearts pounding ... and maybe, with the fae underscoring his every thought with power, he could. An adept’s damnation.
“Praised be God,” he pronounced, “who has brought us to this day of triumph.” He could see waves of power spreading out from where he stood, echoing the rhythm of his speech. “Praised be the courage of the fallen, who gave all that they had to defend their fellows.” Had it always been thus, and he had simply lacked the power to See it? He watched as the shimmering futures shifted in response to those fae-waves, and he shivered inwardly. How could a man live with such vision, and still remain a man?
He led them in the Prayer for the Dead, a recitation crafted ages ago by some anonymous hand. It was beautiful, it was comforting, it was a somber reminder that their victory had cost them dearly. He wondered if the Prophet had written it.
When they were done, he gave them a moment to revel in their pride, taking the time to draw in a deep breath, trying to still the trembling of his flesh so that they would see only the image he wanted them to see, a leader serene and confident. Not a man overcome by hesitancy, remorse ... and yes, he had to admit it, fear. Not the truth.
“There comes a time,” he began at last, “when a man is tested. Sometimes the test is of his courage, or his strength, or his endurance. Sometimes it is of his inner conviction, his faith.” He drew in a deep breath. “Sometimes it is of his judgment. That is the most difficult test of all, my children ... and it can be the most painful.
“Like the father who steals a loaf of bread to feed his starving child, daring the vengeance of the law because he feels that the law of life is more pressing, we each make our choices when we must. Who can judge a man in such an instance, or say with certainty that the course of his heart is wrong? What is the will of government, when contrasted against a man’s innate morality?
“Such are the ways of the laws of man, which are by definition imperfect. But human governments come and go, and statutes change daily in response to circumstance. The Law of the One God is a different thing. Written by God’s own Prophet, affirmed by generations of priests, it was meant to be an absolute Law, which would endure for all time. A reflection of God’s own Spirit, whose wisdom would be unquestionable. A pathway to salvation.
“Decry violence, the Law instructs. Reject sorcery. Resist, above all else, corruption of the human spirit.”
His throat was dry. He drew in a deep breath, and wished he could reach down into the water and draw up a handful to cool his mouth. But his wounded leg throbbed and his muscles felt weak, and he thought that if he tried he might not rise up again.
“It came to pass that an Evil was born into our world, so great that faith alone could not do battle with it. We tried, my children, we tried. Five centuries ago we marched against the Forest with an army vast enough to tame a continent, with standards and with sorcery and with a host of weapons ... and we lost. We lost. We suffered a defeat so devastating that in the five centuries since we haven’t managed yet to recover, in numbers or in faith.
“What would have happened after that war, if the soldiers of the One God had succeeded? Would those men and women have gone back to their homes and their families and enjoyed