Ch 34: Sermon

The Herald is the lazy man’s god. You don’t need to learn the truth of the gods, who is who, all you need to do is trust him with your prayers and know that he will take them where they need to go. True belief is forged in study and blood, and the Herald is a crutch for those without the will to truly seek the divine.

• Writing of Mad Bayne

Solomon stepped out of the carriage, thanking Melissa for opening the door, and Duncan for driving before turning to the other wagon and watching his other servants exit and head for the church. They had arrived only ten minutes prior to the start of service and so the street in front of the church was very busy.

Solomon walked casually forward and noticed a number of eyes on him as he did so. That wasn’t unusual, he’d been experiencing them since he’d arrived in Moonfallow. He didn’t take them personally, a man of his station living in a town like this one was an oddity. This time though the gazes he was receiving were much friendlier. He noticed a number of smiles and respectful nods in his direction.

For a moment he thought he saw some elves mixed in among the crowd. Their long ears and earth coloured clothes standing in stark contrast with those around them. He blinked and they were gone.

He kept his composure and nodded back at few of the crowd as he walked, recognizing a few of those staring as men and women that he’d recently given temporary employment. The number of eyes seemed to be inflated beyond just those he’d met though.

He walked through to the front of the church and settled in next to Dame Pryor. They didn’t have time to chat before the service began, but she did give him a nod of acknowledgement. He glanced for a moment at Threen, seeing the mana beneath his skin move, and felt more certain that he was a Homunculus of his uncle’s creation.

Solomon expected to see Luterne taking his usual place at the altar, but instead it was the older priest, Hinds. Solomon hadn’t gotten a clear look at him, but now that he was standing in the light of the altar he could see that he was a short man with wispy gray hair. Along with the baggy brown robes he was a perfect picture of a country priest.

He stood at the altar and rang a small bell that sat in the corner twice. This drew everyone’s attention to him and quieted the room.

Hinds looked around, satisfied that the attention was on him.

“I welcome you all to this church. May the Herald sing you forward.”

“And may his song find you well,” responded the congregation.

“The Herald is in some ways the greatest of the gods. Though he has never been considered the most powerful, or the most cunning, he has made himself the most useful and in doing so he is the representative of all of the gods, both known and unknown.”

“Today I wish to speak of one of those unknown gods. The Herald’s sister, The Harbinger.”

He paused, his eyes sweeping over the crowd.

“She, like her brother, delivers messages to both gods and men. She tells us that doom is oncoming. That suffering will come for us soon. Many consider her an evil god because of this, but those with wisdom see something different. She is not the cause of the trouble that is coming to us, she is simply giving us a warning that it is oncoming. A chance to prepare for it, and to answer it properly when it arrives. It is easy for us to thank the Herald for what he does, but let us not forget to honor his sister as well. She is the one who needs our thanks the most.”

The priest had another pause, this time coughing, his lungs seeming to rattle in his chest as he did so. He then reached for a cup behind the altar and had a small drink to clear his throat.

“In this next week I ask you to think of those who do thankless work. Work you may not appreciate. The guard who threw you into jail because you decided to drink too much, but kept you from hurting yourself or others. The carpenter who tells you that your wagon is no longer safe to carry goods in. And of course, the old priest who tells you to spend less time in Etling pubs and more in church.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

That drew a light chuckle from the congregation.

“May the laborer bring you the chance at great works,” he said, holding up a fist in one hand and grasping his wrist in the sign of the laborer.

“And may those works be complete,” responded the congregation in unison.

Solomon found himself much preferring Hinds to Luterne. He was much more traditional, using doctrine and dogma and weaving it into the day to day. As the sermon wrapped up, Hinds performed the rest of the service and ended everything with a prayer for the young girls that were still missing.

Solomon sat with Dame Pryor as he waited for the back rows of the church to clear out.

“I heard quite the tale about you saving that trapper.”

“Oh?”

“Fought off a bear with your walking stick and dragged him through a hundred miles of thick woods to get him help. Quite the accomplishment for one so… pampered.”

Solomon laughed lightly. “I’m not sure that it was a bear, and it was certainly less than a hundred miles of thick woods. I was barely on my feet when it was done.”

“Still, the people here have been taking notice of you. Your generous pay, helping that trapper and getting hurt yourself, putting more guards on the streets. I’ve also heard rumors that you’ll be having the roads rebuilt and I have a few guesses as to what you were in the woods for.”

“Oh?”

“Just give an old woman a chance to invest when things are moving forward.”

Solomon nodded. “Of course.”

He turned to the exit, noticing that it was nearly clear, and was about to offer the Dame his arm so that he could walk her out, but before he could Hinds approached them.