Chapter 7 - 1-7
That Siddim was bathed in a divine sunset. Bats, letting out Mouse-like squeaks, flew over a pond dyed the color of blood.
It was the Pallen Cathedral in Malfa City.
The ones who greeted Urgil Necrat were old men in filthy attire.
"Who the hell is this?" one old man shouted,
"Doesn't look like Zarko," another said, looking away.
"This isn't what we were told!" the first old man shouted again. "We've been left waiting, only to have to deal with types like this. What is this guy? What's he here for?"
"I don't know. Anyway, he ain't Zarko."
A third man standing behind the two old men admonished them in a mild tone, "Stop it."
Wrinkles fine enough to look like scales were etched into the three faces. Their skin and eyes were a blackness of unknown nationality. Then again, once one reaches this age, one's country of birth likely matters little; one could see a longevity that transcended race.
"I have come to see Bishop Kofie. Are you all monks?"
Necrat asked the three elders, feeling somewhat intimidated.
"Fool."
"As if that were the case."
"Can't you tell by looking?"
"Where exactly are your eyes fixed?"
They spoke these insults while staring straight into Necrat's eyes. The two in front of him had faces like sculptures of greed and passion, but the old man behind them had civilized, well-proportioned features.
"Nezumo, Persa, that's rude. My apologies, Lord Necrat."
"How do you know my name?"
"I am called Manam. We are astronomers, and we have come all this way from the southern lands in search of lost ancient records in Siddim. It is said that two of the four volumes of the Manilul Documents are kept in this library. Please, Bishop Kofie should be on the second floor. We are meeting here in the cathedral while we conduct our research. We are waiting for someone, so please, don't mind us."
"Get lost!"
"Beat it!"
The more vicious of the old men barked like wild dogs.
While feeling grateful that his bushy mustache hid the curses he muttered under his breath, Urgil Necrat entered the Pallen Cathedral and began to climb the stairs.
"I heard you loud and clear!"
"Which one of you is the beggar!"
Ignoring them, he headed for the Bishop's office. Bishop Kofie was sitting at his desk wearing pince-nez.
"Ah, Count." He did not lift his eyes from the documents.
"Bishop." Necrat sat on the reception sofa and unbuckled his sword from his belt, placing it beside him. "I met your new friends downstairs."
"They aren't friends. It's just that they heard there were rare books in our cathedral..."
"I heard. Just who are they?"
"Astrologers—no, likely mages."
"Mages?" Necrat frowned.
Bishop Kofie straightened the edges of his documents, rang a bell, and ordered wine.
The Bishop had a strong tolerance for alcohol. Necrat had a weak stomach, so he envied this bald man's internal organs.
"Mages are bad news." Sitting across from the Bishop while sipping wine, the Count offered a warning.
Kyle VIII, who had been appointed Archbishop of the holy city Kindary, was famous for his hatred of magic.
"It will affect your promotion."
"It'll be fine."
His Grace the Archbishop simply doesn't know how to use mages, Bishop Kofie laughed.
"They are useful. Did you hear what those old men downstairs are researching?"
The three scholars calling themselves Manam, Persa, and Nezumo had apparently traveled all the way from the southern lands to investigate an ominous star that had appeared in the far north. Necrat had seen the red star as well. In early spring of last year, it had appeared in the northern sky, shining eerily—he believed it disappeared after about three days.
"They are dead serious. A red star appears in the north, and heaven and earth are thrown into chaos. It's interesting; even those crazed types have their own consistent logic. It seems that the appearance of a divine throne in the heavens signifies the birth of a king who shall rule the earth. What happens in the celestial realm shall also happen upon the earth. Well, it doesn't matter. If they spread unsettling rumors, anxiety will arise among the people. Once the populace falls into anxiety, they are easy to manipulate. All one has to do is send a preacher to shout about 'benevolent governance'! And by benevolent governance, I mean, in short, tax cuts and debt forgiveness. One can incite an uprising quite easily that way."
Necrat felt a sense of distaste. "Why don't you take up a hobby other than scheming?"
"Spoken like a true..." Bishop Kofie's head was already beginning to turn a reddish-black. "Even though you came here because you were dying to hear how things are in the East."
"Elder Gilmond is being loud about demanding a summons for the Lords' Conference."
"It's going well, but it's still too early."
It looks like it will take time, the Bishop said.
"Bishop, I hate to be repetitive, but you must not get too deeply involved."
"Don't worry. If we withdraw our funding, they'll revert to being mere barbarians. More importantly, Count, have you met Gilma Rigardie lately?"
Even though you know. Necrat thought. "Yes. There was a proposal from His Excellency the Prime Minister regarding whether my son should become His Majesty's page."
"Are you putting him in the King's school?"
"I can't refuse. It is an honor, and they are offering a deal. For us, it is merely a matter of putting one of our four sons up as collateral. Marquis Anavis is..."
The window made a jarring sound. When he looked, a large crow was perched on the window frame, tilting its head. The crow then hopped away.
The Count turned his eyes back to the Bishop.
"Paishal Anavis seems to suspect that I have been won over by Gilma Rigardie. I would appreciate it if you could explain to him that I haven't exactly been swayed by that Eberian."
"Paishal lacks courage, despite appearances." The Bishop was smirking.
"However, he is popular."
Necrat stopped the movement of his mustache. He had no intention of responding to Bishop Kofie's bait.