The Admonishments of Kherishdar
M.C.A. Hogarth

TOLERANCE

manais [ mah NEYES ], (noun) — duties a lord owes to those in his or her charge

      "I have called you here because I need Correction," I said. "I submit myself to you for this."
      The osulkedi, the minister, studied me from across the room. He was hard as a spear; in his frost eyes I saw nothing but a considered evaluation, as if I were an interesting problem to be solved.
      "What is your sin, rathkedi?" he asked at last.
      I bowed my head. "I cannot bring myself to Correct my own, though I know it is my responsibility."
      One of his brows rose. "Why?"
      I looked away. "I... hate to make those in my charge uncomfortable."
      Again that regard. Then Shame nodded and said, "Very well. You will have what you ask."
      I was nervous and greatly wanted to pace while he waited for his tools to arrive... but I did not. I stood in the center of the room, humility burning my ears.
      And then he approached me... touched me... and I let out a long breath. It had begun. I was in his hands and his hands gave me no space for fear. They were too competent.
      He drew me to the wall and bade me kneel to face it, turning me from the world. He bound my hands together with a single narrow cord and my shoulders loosened, for I could no longer act. He hooked a gag onto my teeth and absolved me from the responsibility of speech. And with the blindfold came a blessed dark, and in my helplessness I was freed.
      "Now," Shame said, "you will listen as I read the duties of the rathked to you."
      I heard him pull a chair to my side. Pages flipped beneath his fingers as incense began to perfume the room. Then he began to recite from the Book of Precedents. My duties were significant; as a rathkedi, a Regal born above the Wall of Birth, I was charged with the maintenance of part of the capital and its surrounding lands and all the Ai-Naidar who lived and worked there. But Shame read with the trained diction of a priest and the words soon blent into a panorama of duty and right action, until I felt flushed with exaltation at all I had been entrusted to do.
      When Shame untied my hands, when he removed the bit and the blindfold, I found I was trembling from exhaustion. He steadied my shoulders.
      "We are done," he said.
      His eyes rested on mine, waiting. I frowned as I met them. "Is there something else?" I asked, fretful.
      He said, "This is your Correction, rathkedi. How do you feel?"
      "Clean," I answered unthinking, and then my breath stopped. "Oh. This is what I deny them...!"
      Shame smiled and touched my shoulder once before rising. I heard the door shut behind him. Long after he left I remained by the wall, the rope in my hands.


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© 2007, M. C. A. Hogarth