Renado 63

For the first time in his life, Renado attended a religious service.  It was a sunny, hot day, but the warm gale outdoors was nothing compared to the stifling heat inside the Grey Temple, where one of the Atmos Septi Archpriests addressed an enormous congregation of Saanazar’s commoners.  Renado sat with Ira near the back of the auditorium, barely able to see any details of the sixty-year-old Brethren.  Asar and Kal sat closer to the front, while Urro and another of his men loitered outdoors, sharing a puff of a pipe with some of the holy guards.

The Grey Temple itself was a monstrous building, dwarfed only by the brute masonry of the Burnt Keep.  The latter was scarcely more than a ruin, while the Temple framed a white marble roof with a ring of flying buttresses.  The customary opening in the center allowed the brilliant sunlight to illuminate the huge room.  Script too old to read adorned that orifice as though it was the most sacred of artifacts.  The chair Ren sat in was as polished and well-crafted as his father’s office seat had once been in their estate in Sheld—simply furnishing this auditorium would have cost more money than Ren had seen in his life.

Archpriest Morrus spoke today.  Each day a different priest read passages to whomever attended the Temple grounds; every few days, someone would accompany the scriptures with insights or preaching.  Morrus spoke sternly and authoritatively.  His voice echoed around the room without strain: “Hold fast, like Vayakas the Bold, in these troubled times!  As evil spreads across the south, we will all be called into Atmos’ service.  He will protect us.  He will protect us all.”

To Ren’s chagrin, Morrus’ sermon was accompanied by a call to arms.  He spoke of many being recruited for a fleet.  Sometimes they had to be the tools and weapons of their Sky God, to prevent his violent rage from blasting the world with storms and other cataclysms from above.

The Grey Brethren had destroyed Ren’s family and his home—their increased military was deeply troubling to him.

All the better to waste it against the Conclave, he thought.  But he held Ira’s hand as they sat side-by-side, and he did his best to appear a devout man.

Renado and his friends had learned a lot about the Atmos Septi by attending services like these.  Though he had not yet started to delve into Saanazar’s secrets, he had learned that the religion was organized around a council of Archpriests.  Though technically of equal rank, they were tended by Speaker Serand, a spiritual chancellor of sorts.  Each Archpriest commanded one branch of the institution, a Creed.

Archpriest Par kept order in The Cardinal Creed which oversaw the governance of the Brethren in Saanazar and the religion’s treasury.

The Reformer’s Creed, on the other hand, was responsible for spreading the teachings of Atmos to the lands beyond their city; this one was presided over by Archpriest Bradach.

Archpriest Morrus, who spoke today, commanded The Militant Creed and the religion’s sizeable military endeavors.  Renado suspected it would have been Morrus’ decision to raid Sheld and butcher the Family of Lerran.

Archpriest Hatho of The Sage’s Creed pursued scholarly matters of a theological nature and of a scientific nature.

Lastly, Serand sat in leadership over The Speaker’s Creed.  This holiest of orders was tasked with discerning the will of Atmos and communicating it to the Brethren—both their priesthood and the public.  Ren was still unclear if the Speaker was an Archpriest himself.  He had heard of a fifth Archpriest—Roithe—and rumours of a Sixth Creed.  Asar had risked asking about this of a Grey Sister: supposedly, Roithe was the Archpriest of The Speaker’s Creed while Speaker Serand was ranked separately.  According to the official channels, there was no such thing as a Sixth Creed.

Renado spent the morning considering Brother Morrus’ place in all of this.  If Ren and his friends obtained proof that the Archpriest of The Militant Creed had given the orders for Sheld, it would be very tempting to simply kill the man and call it a good day in Saanazar.  Renado’s goal was to get vengeance, but he could not yet decide whether he wanted a single man to pay… or the religion as a whole.

Another obstacle facing Ren was the Tether.  The magical oaths he had sworn on the Isle of Dusk would not permit him to speak to members of the Brethren about the Conclave unless they already knew such secrets.  If Ren wanted his enemies in Saanazar to help wage war against Gravagan and the lying, manipulating magical coven, he would need to find a way.

When Morrus finished his teaching, Ren followed the procession of commoners into the street.  Many went about their day, while Ren and his friends quietly sought out their own respective accommodations.  Renado had decided, after a few days, that each loyal man should provide for his own needs independently.  His men and women had all found jobs now; only Ren and a few others lived in Parla’s Place, while most had moved to taverns closer to their respective employers.

If anyone was looking for Ren and his people, they would be searching for a rock in the ocean.

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