Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [296]
Heavy cloud rolled overhead. The scorching wind, the thordotter, blew from the southeast, picking at their petticoats, blowing its hot breath in their faces till their eyes dried. It was a relief to gain the narrow alleys at the foot of the hill, despite the dust that whipped at their heels.
‘We’ll seek a blessing in the church,’ said MyrdemInggala. There was a church at the end of the street, with steps winding down round its curving wall in the traditional way of Old Borlienese church architecture. Little of the church was above ground except the dome. In this way, the fathers of the church imitated the desire to live underground which possessed the Takers, those holy men of Pannoval who had brought the faith to Borlien, centuries ago.
The two women were not alone in their descent. An old peasant shuffled before them, led by a boy. He held out a hand to them. His story was that he had given up his holding because the heat had killed his crops, and had come to beg in town. The queen gave him a silver coin.
Darkness prevailed inside the church. The congregation knelt in a pool of darkness intended to remind them of their mortal state. Light filtered down from above. The painted image of Akhanaba behind the circular altar was lit by candles. The long bovine face, blue-painted, the eyes kind but inhuman – these were lapped by uncertain shadows.
To these traditional elements was added a more modern embellishment. Near the door, lit by one candle, stood a stylised portrait of a mother, with sad downcast eyes, her hands spread. Many of the women shuffling in kissed the original beholder as they passed her.
No formal service was in progress but, since the church was nevertheless half full, a priest was praying aloud in a high nasal singsong.
‘Many come to knock at thy door, O Akhanaba, and many turn away without a knock.
‘And to those who turn away and those who stand in all piety knocking.
‘Thou sayest, “Cease to cry ‘When willst thou open to me, O All-Powerful One?’
‘“For I say that all the while the door stands open, and never has been shut.” These things are there to be seen but you see them not.’
MyrdemInggala thought of what her mother’s gossie had said. They communicated with a greater voice. Yet Shannana did not mention Akhanaba. Looking up at the face of the All-Powerful, she thought, it’s true, we are surrounded by mystery. Even Rushven can’t understand it.
‘All about you lies all that you need, if you will accept and not take by force. If you would but lay down your self, you would find what is greater than yourself.
‘All things are equal in this world, but also greater.
‘“Ask not therefore if I am man or animal or stone:
‘“All these I am and more that you must learn to perceive.”’
The chanting went on, the choir joining in. The queen reflected how excellently the alto voices chimed with the stone vaulting overhead; here indeed were spirit and stone united.
She put a hand under her clothes and placed it on her breast, trying to still the beating of her heart.
Despite the beauty of the singing, the apprehension in her would not be soothed. There was no time to contemplate eternity under the pressure of dire events.
When the priest had blessed them, she was ready to go on. The two women, shawls about their heads, went out again into the wind and daylight.
The queen led them to the quayside, where the River Takissa looked dark and choppy, like a narrow sea. A boat just in from Oldorando was mooring with some difficulty. Small boats were being loaded, but there was less activity than usual because of the thordotter. Empty carts, barrels, timbers, winches, and other equipment essential to river life stood about. A tarpaulin whipped back and forth in the wind. The queen walked on determinedly until they reached a warehouse over which was a sign reading: LORDRYARDRY ICE TRADING COMPANY.
This was the Matrassyl headquarters of the famous ice captain, Krillio Muntras of Lordryardry.