Sanctuary - Lynn Abbey [53]
“Should I write that—‘never mind about the mountains’?”
“No, write what’s important. In Ranke—which was a kingdom itself, then; the Empire hadn’t been founded yet—we called those same mountains the World’s End Mountains or the Spine, which is exactly what the Irrune called them when they first saw them some twenty years ago, though the folk they drove from the mountains—the folk who’ve lived in these parts longer than any of us—called the mountains Gunderpah, for the clouds that hide their peaks—”
“Gunderpah!” Bec complained. “You better spell me that one. What kind of word is Gunderpah?”
“The same kind as Bec or Cauvin or Molin Torchholder. It’s a name, boy; the name the mountain folk gave to hills where they lived. The Ilsigi king said to the mountain folk: Defend us from the king of Ranke and his armies! The tribes did, or tried. In those days, when Vashanka’s star was rising, we Rankans never lost a battle, not even a skirmish. The mountain tribes were no match for a well-led disciplined army. And when the Ilsigi army finally came down to the World’s End, they faced not only the Rankan army, but the mountain tribes as well—for it’s a truth, boy, that such folk will fight for gold and for whoever gives them the most gold.”
Bec laid down the quill. “Is any of this important?” He’d missed most of that last part anyway.
“I’m telling you the history of Sanctuary, boy—your history, and it’s a damn fool who isn’t interested in his own history. While that Ilsigi army was losing ground in the Spine, the Ilsigi king was taxing his people to the breaking point. There were uprisings throughout the Ilsigi kingdom. Their army had a choice—stand and fight, and lose everything; or make peace with Ranke, pay tribute, and hightail it home before the king’s own city was in flames.”
“So, what’s that got to do with Sanctuary?” Bec held the quill over the puddled ink. He squeezed the vane gently and drew up a column of the black liquid.
“This miserable city was founded by Ilsigi rabble—slaves, whores, gladiators, and all the rest who struck out on their own rather than stay in Ilsig once its king and army were humbled. And humbled they were, boy—”
“My name is Bec!”
“And humbled they were, boy, because the rabble got away, and the rest—the good folk who carry any kingdom or empire on their shoulders—saw their king’s weakness and lost heart—”
“The way the Enders have lost heart?” Bec met Grandfather’s eyes and held them a moment before looking away.
“Just so, Bec. Just so. A king can hold his people together after they are defeated by a worthy enemy, but when the enemy is unworthy or—worse—if the enemy is inside the kingdom, only the greatest kings or emperors will prevail. Our Empire had no great emperor when it needed him most. Men like Serripines retreated to Sanctuary, hoping a great man would emerge to lead the Empire back to glory. What he found here, of course, was worse than what he’d left behind.”
“What happened here, Grandfather? What really happened here that was worse than anywhere else?”
“Our gods abandoned us, and we abandoned our gods.”
Bec shook his head. “Dyareela,” he said solemnly. “What happened with Dyareela? Everybody remembers. Everybody tells me, ‘be glad you weren’t born yet,’ but nobody says why. Momma cries sometimes, and Poppa drinks. Batty Dol talks to ghosts, old Bilibot, too. And Cauvin—you made Cauvin remember Dyareela when you mocked him; that’s why he got all dark and scary. You know he’s got a great big scar on his chest? Two scars, like a crossroads … I asked him, and he wouldn’t talk for a week, so I asked Poppa, and he said the ’Reelans would sometimes cut through a man’s chest and take out his heart so quick that he was still alive and screaming. But they couldn’t have done that to Cauvin, could they have? If they’d cut through his chest, he’d be dead, wouldn’t he, whether or not they took out his heart?”
It was the wrong question to