Free Revelation (Rai Kirah) by Carol Berg Page B

at Talar’s far left, interrupted the recitation at that point. “I thought we agreed that this particular event would not be mentioned. It is no crime to lose in demon combat. On the contrary, it is imperative that a Warden withdraw when facing an unwinnable conflict. He must put his safety and that of the Aife above pride.”
    Kenehyr nodded in agreement, his wrinkled face troubled. The round-cheeked Maire answered. “We know all this, Catrin, and will certainly not hold a withdrawal as evidence of treason. Yet I see value in hearing the pattern of these past days. The complete view of events helps us see everything in proper perspective. But truly the loss should not have been listed as a charge.” This last was directed at Talar, who nodded formally to Maire and made a notation on the paper.
    At this point I resigned myself to a very long day. No hope of a quick review of the battle in question, a quick vote, and a reprimand warning me to be more careful in rituals when our understanding of our own traditions was so limited. I had hoped to spend the afternoon and evening talking with Kenehyr. The old man had worked closely with our best scholars through the years, and knew as much as any Ezzarian about demon-possession.
    Instead, I would spend the day explaining why I thought wiping the floor of the temple was not necessary after a battle, and why, since one recitation of the closing chant was soothing and healing, did I not see that three recitations were even better? And I would have to be on my best behavior and not insinuate that the innate hostility I detected in Fiona prevented her from giving a fair appraisal of my actions. Although her observations were scrupulously honest, her interpretation of my motives was always the worst it could be.
    Indeed, it was mid-afternoon before we got to the crux of the matter. We had been brought food and wine at midday. I had gone to stand beside one of the windows while I ate. Several times I caught Catrin watching me. Of course she could not come and talk to me, but I expected some sign, some gesture of reassurance. Yet she remained expressionless and didn’t eat. I felt more than a little uneasy.
    After only a quarter of an hour, we resumed. The Council members moved to the edge of their chairs as Talar uttered the most important command of the day. “Tell us of your last demon encounter, Warden.”
    I had to ignore my growing disturbance and bring all of my senses to bear on my telling. I tried to recall every detail, every word, every sensation, every smell and taste and sound, and relay it to the five who sat in judgment, so they could experience it as truly as I had done. I wanted to make them hear and see and wonder at it as I did. Every passing moment led me to believe that my experience was, in many ways, as significant as my battle with the Lord of Demons, a portent that we could not ignore.
    “No evil!” Caddoc had a harsh dry laugh that grated on the ear. “You deemed yourself fit to judge such a thing. Interesting that it was after the creature had shown you its prowess with a sword that you made this determination.”
    “I have no shame in losing a battle,” I said. “Since you included the one I lost in this telling, then take it as evidence of that, at least. I deemed this rai-kirah not attracted to evil, and that it was not to our benefit to destroy him. Bring other evidence of my cowardice, if that’s your claim.”
    “Not cowardice,” said Talar. “No one accuses you of cowardice.”
    Maire leaned forward, her long braid stark white against the dark red of her shapeless dress. “You make it sound as if this demon was expecting you personally. It knew that you transformed beyond the portal. It claimed that it would very much like to get to know you, and that it would remember you. Was this not a concern?”
    “Demons always say such things . . .” But even as I made the claim, I heard the voice again.
    . . . Next time we meet . . . “It was