To Storm Heaven - Esther Friesner [78]
“Do you question me, Bilik oberyin?” she challenged. “Or do you question the teachings of holy Evramur itself?.” Her words sent the villagers into a panic of renewed songs and prayers. Some of the brawnier men in the crowd began muttering among themselves, giving the oberyin dark looks that promised whose side they’d take in a confrontation between him and Ma’adrys. Bilik noted this, pursed his lips, bowed his submission to the girl, and led the way back down the mountain without another word.
Leadership, intelligence, and courage, Troi mused.
No wonder the Ne’elatians spirited her away. She could be very dangerous to them. And she is.
The oberyin conducted the crowd to a modest house that stood well removed from any other habitation, even the rough hillside huts of the shepherds.
Even at a distance, Troi could hear the sounds of a struggle coming from within the little dwelling.
“Sounds like Houdini’s still safe,” Geordi remarked. “‘These people know how to tie knots that stay.” “Who?” Troi asked.
“Avren, the so-called shepherd. When we first showed up, he tried to turn the people against us the way he did with your group. He might’ve succeeded too, if Bilik had helped him.” “Bilik was ready enough to attack us,” Troi said.
“Why did he refuse this time?” “He didn’t refuse, he didn’t do anything. One look at Ma’adrys and it was like he’d had his own mental powers turned back against himself. He froze. That gave us time to throw the whole fireworks show, and time for Ma’adrys to make the villagers believe that the real ‘evil spirit’ among them is Avren. When Ma’adrys gave the word they grabbed him, hogtied him, and left him tucked away safe in Bilik’s house there while we came to fetch you and Ambassador Lelys.” They were nearer the oberyin’s house now, and Troi noted a change in the temper of the crowd. Their first flush of religious awe was fading, replaced by a darker, more dangerous emotion. There was a cold, angry purpose impelling them toward the sound of Avren’s useless struggles against his bonds. She knew what it meant and she was afraid.
“Geordi.” She clutched his arm urgently. “We must hold them back, we must do something. They’ll kill—” Even as she spoke, the crowd was gathering fury.
Bilik, too, noticed this and redoubled his pace so that he was the first to reach the door. “Wait!” he eornmanded, spreading his arms wide to bar the way.
“This man is not yours to touch.” “So you say,” came a sarcastic voice from the crowd. “Why’s that?” “In with him, are you?” came another.
“Yes, why else would you stand up for him!” “Evil spirits are known for their fine promises.
What’d he promise you, Bilik oberyin? That you’d get your girl back? Well, there she stands, but not in any state for the likes of you to touch!” “Lead us wrong, make us lay hands on innocent folk. If the judgment of Evramur falls on our backs it’ll be all your doing! You and your pacts with Yaro’s own!” “Stop!” Ma’adrys stepped forward to place herself between Bilik and the snarling mob. “Have you learned nothing?” she demanded of her fellow villagers. “Does the Lady of the Balances look kindly on killing?” “That one in there has violated the sacred balance!” someone in the crowd shouted. “To destroy him is to restore it! To kill him is to serve the Lady?
“To kill him is to destroy yourselves!” Ma’adrys shouted back. “You speak from ignorance and fear. I speak from knowledge. Have I not walked the white ways of Evramur? Have I not learned the true nature of that place you call holy?” The crowd fell back a little, muttering.
Troi tapped Data’s wrist discreetly and whispered, “What has she told them of Ne’elat?” “She has not yet revealed to them that it is merely their sisterworld,” Data replied. “However, neither has she confirmed that it is the spirit-home they believe it to be.” “I have returned to help you, my people,” Ma’adrys continued. “I cannot allow you to do that which will harm your souls beyond hope. Avren has deceived us for a long time. Yes, he must be punished for it, but there are