|
Louis R
Rear Admiral
Posts: 1298
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 2015 9:25 pm
|
hmmm... this is the passage. The Road to Hell, ch15]Zindel walked alone through the ringing silence to the rail about the temple sanctuary, passing his watching wife and daughters, seated in the temple’s front puke, without even acknowledging their presence. He bent his head reverently, raising his hands, the first three fingers of each spread to signify the presence of the Double Triad, then folded those hands—fingers still spread—across his breast, fingertips touching each shoulder, and sank to his knees before Chezdahn Myrkosah, High Priest of Vothan and the senior cleric of the Ternathian Empire.
Myrkosah was an old, old man, yet his spine was straight, his silver hair still thick, his beard immaculately clipped. His robes were far less ornate than the Seneschal’s splendor, cut in a style which was—literally—thousands of years old, yet he wore them with an assurance that, like the plainness of Zindel’s clothing, was its own form of arrogance, Raynarg thought bitterly.
“Who comes before the gods to seek their blessing?” Myrkosah intoned. Like every Ternathian cleric, he possessed a rolling, powerful voice that filled the temple like a living thing.
“My name,” the kneeling emperor replied, “is Zindel.”
“And why are you here, Zindel?” Myrkosah asked.
“To take up my burden.”
“What burden?”
“The burden of service,” Zindel said, his deep voice even more powerful than the high priest’s, and yet somehow hushed, almost humble.
“And who calls you to assume that burden?”
“The people of Sharona.”
“And by what right do you answer that call?”
“I am the son of the House of Calirath, descendent of Halian and Erthain the Great.”
“And what service do you offer to the people of Sharona?”
“The service of heart, of mind, of body, of spirit, and of Talent,” Zindel replied unflinchingly, lifting his head to meet the priest’s searching gaze.
“And what is your duty to the people of Sharona?”
“To stand between.” The words came out levelly, almost softly, yet they reached every ear in that temple. “To stand between evil and its victims, between darkness and light. Between right and wrong. Between my people and their enemies…and between the people I am sworn to protect and death.”
“And will you meet that duty?” Myrkosah’s level voice was the very balance scale of the gods, and Zindel chan Calirath’s nostrils flared.
“With my life. Chunika s’hari, Halian. Sho warak.”
“Will you pledge that upon the Winged Crown? Upon the Sword of Erthain? Upon the altar of the Double Triad and under the eye of the gods themselves?”
“I will so pledge.”
“Then we will hear your oath, Zindel,” Myrkosah said, and the High Priestess of Shalana and the High Priestess of Marnilay joined him.
They formed a triangle about the kneeling emperor, reaching out their arms, fingers spread in the presence of the Double Triad as they held the Winged Crown of Celaryon above his head. It was over forty-eight hundred years old, that crown—a heavy, angular thing of thick gold plaques and the outstretched wings of a falcon, forged by the goldsmiths of Farnalia to commemorate the treaty binding their land to Ternathia. It had been used in every coronation of every Ternathian emperor or empress in all those long, dusty millennia, and now—as they held it above his head—their fingers hummed with a silent vibration only they could perceive.
They stood a moment, and then Myrkosah said, “The gods are listening.”
Zindel drew a deep breath. This was an oath he’d sworn before, and unlike the watching Seneschal, or Chava Busar, or anyone beyond the House of Calirath and the high priest and high priestesses standing about him at this moment, he knew what that oath truly meant. It was not a simple formality, not a mere promise.
Much of Sharona—perhaps most of it—believed that Erthain the Great was mere legend, a figure of myth created by the Calirath Dynasty to justify its claim upon the imperial power. But the emperors and empresses of Ternathia knew better than that. Zindel knew better than that, and he remembered every time he’d cursed that “legendary” ancestor, for Erthain had been the very first Calirath to possess the Calirath Talent, and his Talent had been a tsunami. The secret records of the House of Calirath had not recorded what Erthain had Glimpsed in the moment his Talent awoke, but they did record what he’d done about it, and five thousand years of Caliraths had bound themselves to that same unforgiving, merciless oath.
Not all of them had lived up to the totality of its harsh, unyielding demands. Some had broken under its weight…and under the weight of their Talent. But the compulsion Erthain had set, the compulsion with which Celaryon had imbued his crown, held them all. They must take that oath willingly, but once taken, it could never be untaken. Perhaps some of them hadn’t realized that before they swore it, but afterward…afterward they knew.
And now, the oath, the compulsion—the Talent—which had bound all those countless generations of Caliraths to the service and protection of Ternathia would henceforth bind them to the service and protection of all Sharona. They might make mistakes, they might be guilty of misjudgment, they might misunderstand a crisis, they might be unequal to the task, but they would meet that crisis…or die in the trying.
And so Zindel chan Calirath looked into the eyes of the High Priest of Vothan and opened his mouth.
“I, Zindel, son of Kairnos, descendent of Halian, descendent of Celaryon, descendent of Erthain, do pledge myself and my House unto the end of time to the service, the guidance, and the protection of the people of Sharona. I will bear true service to them all the days of my life. I will stand between them and the darkness, between them and danger, between them and death. I will offer to them the very best that I have of heart and soul and Talent, and may the gods themselves deal with me as I deal with them.”[/quote]
[quote="Isilith wrote:Louis R wrote:It's nature, and the fact that it _binds_ the wearer to act in the best interest of the Empire - to keep his coronation oath, in effect. And that nature would be? Seeing as I just asked what the revelation about it was, telling me it was about its nature didn't really enlighten me.  Any chance you remember where, and in which book, this was located? I read the books, but I am drawing a blank on remembering any great reveal on the winged crown itself.
|
