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“I know. I believe. She is safe. She longs to return.”
“And will she?” I demanded.
“Not soon enough. Not as soon as you or I might like,” Merlin replied. “We must go on. We must deal with this state of things on our own.”
“And what is the state of things?” I asked, my voice already bitter. “What else have women been barred from? I’m surprised they aren’t burning us alive yet.”
“Not yet. Things have not reached that state,” Merlin said diplomatically. She did not deny that they might. “A new temple has been erected. The king makes plans to do away with the worship of the Three. Perun is the god we must all serve now. The High Priest of Perun presides over the new temple, while the High Priest of the Three does the same here.”
“You’ve been usurped by a man?” I shook my head in disbelief. “This is untenable, Merlin. How can you bear it?”
“A man, yes, but at least a good man–in this temple at least,” Merlin mused. “And how? We bear what we must because we must bear it.”
That cryptic comment made no sense to me.
“You’d be surprised at how much you can bear, Lancelet,” Merlin reminded me. “A person can live with just about anything if the desire to go on is strong enough.”
“I don’t know if I have that desire,” I said, and then was shocked by my own admission.
“You’re still here,” Merlin said simply. “There is nothing you must do but be. You are still with us. That is enough.” She sighed and touched her brow briefly. “The High Priest of this temple. A man, yes. But a good man. His name is Tyre. He was already one of my closest counselors.” She shrugged. “Not much has changed. You will see. Tyre does what he must to placate the king.”
“But you are the true power of the temple?” I guessed.
“We will not say that. Now, the other High Priest. The same cannot be said for him as for Tyre. Cavan is his name. He might have been a good man once, who can say. But like the king, the lust for power has become too strong in him. That nebulous notion of purity? It is in him, too. Let the merciful Three shield us from man’s ideals of purity.”
Merlin looked more tired than when she had entered. Guiltily, I knew I was putting her through this. This verbal test of her own endurance–and mine. But I could not stop.
“What else?”
“The war continues. The land burns. We prevail.”
“We are winning, you mean?”
“Somehow, despite war on three fronts, we have not yet lost. When the people starve and the land burns and the people in other lands starve and burn as well... I cannot call that winning.”
“What about the food shortages?” I asked.
“Few complain these days. The king has ensured the capital has more than elsewhere. Who can complain when that is the case? Some praise the king’s wisdom in ensuring Camelot would have more than others.” Her lips twisted bleakly.
“His wisdom? He set aside food because he knew this would happen,” I said. “He took care of himself, nothing more. True foresight would have been preparing without knowing he was staging an invasion. Warmongering, treacherous bastard.”
“Most here would agree with you. Though they are prudent enough not to speak such thoughts aloud,” Merlin remarked.
Despite myself, I was growing sleepy. I stifled a yawn.
“Any other terrible things you think I should know about?”
“I think you should go to sleep. Your body needs rest right now more than it does knowledge. Especially knowledge that will depress your spirits. There is enough hopelessness in your heart to deal with right now, Lancelet, without my adding to it.”
They were wise words and what was more they were true, but would I heed them?
Was my name Lancelet de Troyes?
“Tell me,” I said mutinously. “Tell me everything.”
Merlin gave me a contemplative look then slowly nodded. “Perhaps knowing there are people faring far worse than you will leave you with something to contemplate besides your own plight.”
“I am already aware,” I claimed. But was I? Didn’t I have it worse than anyone? Part of me wondered how Merlin could deny it. Chunks of my flesh had been ripped away by human mouths. How many in Pendrath could say the same?
