Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [68]
I nodded reluctantly. I didn’t like it, and I didn’t agree with it, but I understood his meaning.
“Very good.” He had a portable writing desk on his lap. Now he dipped a quill pen in the inkpot. “I will record your confession. I do not expect to succeed all at once. It may be that some boils are more stubborn than others, and must be lanced many times before they are fully drained. This document will be helpful, and I hope my notes will prove useful over the course of history.”
“I’m so very pleased.” I could not keep the bitterness from my tone. “All that was missing in my life was a written catalogue of my every folly.”
The Patriarch’s expression turned stern. “We are not speaking of mere folly, child. We are speaking of beast-worship, witchcraft, unholy fornication, demon-summoning, and blasphemy. These are things that are abominations in the eyes of God.”
“Why?” I asked.
He blinked, startled. “Have you not been listening to the scripture Aleksei reads to you? Did you not just say you were beginning to gain understanding of God’s will?”
“What he wills, aye, but not why he wills it,” I said honestly. “Not always, anyway. Obviously, it is a very bad and foolish idea to summon fallen spirits, and if God wishes to call it a sin, I will not argue. I wish—” It was on the tip of my tongue to say I wished I had never taken part in it, but then I remembered the gift that the spirit Marbas had given me, the charm to reveal hidden things. Had it not been for Marbas’ gift, the dragon’s spirit would have remained trapped in the princess’ mortal being.
Rostov was still staring at me with incomprehension. “Yes? You wish what?”
I took a different tack. “For greater understanding. Why does it matter who I bed, so long as we are both consenting?”
“Naamah’s curse has a strong hold on you indeed,” he murmured. “But do not despair, Moirin. No one comes to understanding without guidance. It is my role to help you understand the word of God and his son Yeshua.”
I waited.
“Our goal in life is to join with God in a perfect spiritual union,” he said patiently. “That is pure joy, and pure love. Anything that distracts from this goal is a trap, and the pleasures of the flesh is one of the greatest traps in existence. God allows us the sacrament of marriage that we might obey his command to be fruitful and multiply. To abuse the flesh in pursuit of carnal pleasure is an abomination to him, for it causes us to stray far, far from our true goal. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I think so.” Again, I didn’t agree, but at least the logic was clearer to me. “Thank you, my lord.”
The Patriarch rewetted his pen in the inkwell. “Let us set aside matters of the flesh for the moment,” he said in a judicious manner. “Let us begin at the very beginning. Is it true that the Maghuin Dhonn worship a bear?”
I did my best to answer his questions honestly, reckoning I had nothing to lose; and too, I was wary of his perceptive shrewdness. He could track a lie like a hound on the scent. The truth was a greater struggle for him.
It had always been difficult to explain the existence of a diadh-anam to folk who had none, and the Patriarch of Riva was no exception. And I had no words to describe the Maghuin Dhonn Herself.
The irony of it was that when he spoke of a perfect union with his God, of pure joy and pure love, I knew what he meant. Beyond the stone doorway, when the Maghuin Dhonn Herself had come to me, I had felt it. Half-blood though I may be, with my patron D’Angeline gods attendant on my life, She had claimed me as Her child, then and always. She had laid a grave destiny on me, but She had claimed me.
It had been a moment of perfect bliss, and if it had gone on forever and ever, I would have been content.
But I could not convey it—not the joy, not the immense, overwhelming nature of Her presence. Not the way the earth had trembled beneath Her tread, not the awe and humility I had felt as She dwindled