Chapter 366 — What He Saw on the Spirit Plains

The slave owners were glad to send their slaves here to be whipped; it seemed to them a matter of great face, and more importantly the commandant paid compensation, and if a slave happened to be beaten to death in the process, the money was enough for the owner to buy two healthy new ones. So those in the city who owned slaves treated the Fire Month festival as a sort of lottery, and even bribed the soldiers who did the whipping...

These memories surfaced in Wright's mind, and he could not help frowning.

He had once thought it barbaric, thought it cruel; but never before today had he thought it steeped in sin.

After seeing in Cecil Territory so many serfs, slaves, and bond laborers trade hard work for freedom, gain homes and property of their own, even go to school and learn their letters and become "Cecil citizens" like everyone else, after seeing with his own eyes that those reckoned "stupid, inferior stock" could live as ordinary people do, in full dignity, he found he could no longer stomach these so-called "refined entertainments of civilized society" in the central regions.

And then there was this city, unchanging... this city that had not changed in decades, in a hundred years.

Not a single newly built house was in sight.

Wright shook his head, turned, and left the butcher's square, all appetite for lingering and resting in the city gone.

He bought only some dry rations, clean water, and beer that would keep, and left Stonehold soon after; passing through the gate in the fortress's northern wall, he set foot formally on the soil of the Spirit Plains.

He walked a long way over the wild land outside the walls, walked a whole day through, and only before sunset did he finally see a small village.

Glancing at the sky, Wright decided to rest in the village. He had little money for the road, but villagers seldom refused lodging to a priest, and he could chop wood for a supper, which was far cheaper than a night in a city.

He entered the village, walking the rutted, muddy road between low, shabby thatched huts and timber houses. He asked where the village's manager could be found, and set off in that direction.

But a sudden commotion behind him brought him to a halt.

He turned and saw the people on the muddy road scattering, while two soldiers in armor dragged a man out of a nearby house by his arm and his hair. A woman in a ragged dress ran out after them, weeping and screaming, and threw herself at the soldiers' feet. Behind the two soldiers came a priest of the holy light, in clerical robes and a soft white cap with gold trim.

Clearly the holy light priest, a transcendent, was the one in control.

Wright strode over at once.

"What's happening here?" He came before the holy light priest in the robe and asked with a frown, "What crime has this man committed?"

The woman on her knees saw another priest appear and at once wailed all the louder: "My lord! We truly never worshipped an evil god! It was only an old ledger—"

The woman's wailing broke off mid-cry, for a divine spell—a Decree of Silence—had descended upon her. She could only gape, eyes bulging, clawing desperately at her own throat. The priest of the Holy Light who had cast it drew back his hand, studied Wright before him with a flicker of curiosity, and only after confirming that this was a brother of the Church did he speak: "Brother, this is none of your concern. I suspect this family has dealings with dark rites and sacrifice."

The man being dragged along the ground by two soldiers muttered under his breath: "There really isn't... there really isn't..."

Wright frowned at the scene, then turned to the priest with the greatest patience: "What evidence do you have?"

"A book was found in his house," the priest said, waving an old, worn volume in his hand. "That is proof of contact with blasphemous knowledge!"

The man on the ground began to weep: "It's only an old account book... I just wanted to teach my wife a few words..."

He did not finish. The soldier beside him drove an iron boot into him, and the rest of his words went down with the blood frothing in his mouth. The soldier planted his foot on the man's head, his voice pitilessly stern: "You are not to bewitch the hearts of the people! What business does a commoner have learning to read? How could a commoner's house possibly hold a book?"

"A book kept in a commoner's home is a dangerous sign. Such a book was most likely placed there by the devil. Even if what it records seems ordinary, blasphemous knowledge hides between the lines; when an illiterate commoner looks at these books, he does not read the words—he reads the words of the devil." The priest traced the symbol of the Lord of Holy Light over his chest, his face grave and severe. "This is the warning given by Bishop Megol."