This is a fan translation of Cold Shores (Холодные берега) by the Russian science fiction and fantasy author Sergei Lukyanenko. The novel is the first in the Seekers of the Sky (Искатели неба) duology.

Chapter 5

In Which I Learn Who Holy Paladins Fear but Don't yet Know Why

After their filling meal, Brother Ruud relaxed. He no longer wanted to wander the streets, he was ready to sit near the improper fountain with the improper sculpture and drink strong Russian tea, which turned out to be to his taste.

I was pleased. There was no need to expose ourselves more than necessary. Although rumors were already spreading through the city, of course. Still, belated caution was better than none at all.

"Ilmar, tell me, a humble servant of the Sister…" Ruud began.

He loved underscoring his humility after putting on the crimson cloak!

"What drives you in life?"

"Huh?"

I hadn't expected a question like that.

"What is the meaning behind your existence?"

"Nothing special, holy brother. If the Lord has graced me with life, then I live. I try not to sin, or at least sin less… That's all."

"That's how wild beasts live!" Brother Ruud was firmly determined to put me on the righteous path.

"Forgive me, holy brother."

"The Sister will forgive you," Ruud grunted in displeasure. "There are two paths in life. One is to fill your belly, indulge in lust, and lift your pride to the heavens. But that is exactly the life of beasts the Sister and the Redeemer have taught us to avoid!"

"I don't really recall any animals that suffer from pride…"

But the holy paladin ignored my words.

"But there is a second path, the human path. Chasing away vices, humbling the soul, getting close to the Lord's image."

I was silent, not sure what he was driving at.

"There is a seed sown by the Redeemer within you," Ruud informed me. "You're a sinner, a great sinner. But at times you've turned to the truth, donated sacred scrolls to temples…"

"Well… Ruud, I've only done that once. And only because I hadn't expected any profit from them…"

"That's honesty talking right now," Ruud nodded in approval. "But tell me, you didn't expect any use from that, did you? Didn't indulge in pride, didn't expect to gain anything, wasn't trying to pay off the Sister's wrath."

"What does the Sister care about a gift like that?.." I muttered. "All the world's treasures belong to her anyway…"

"Then you did the right thing. So there, Ilmar…"

He shouldn't have spoken so loudly! Sure, there didn't seem to be anyone close to us, people tended to be shy about sitting close to priests, but still.

"It was the hand of the Sister! She brought you to the temple, directed you to me. Tell me, what will you do after you tell everything to the Lord's Stepson?"

"I don't know."

I'd first like to know what would be done to me! I could figure out later what to do myself.

"A church rank has been given to you. This is your chance to get close to God. To lead an honest life from now on. To go to distant lands and bring the holy word to the people there. Or to retreat into a stern monastery, to pray for forgiveness with fasting, prayers, and self-flagellation. I don't want your soul to die, Ilmar."

There. That was what I'd thought. I had no idea what God's Stepson, the Redeemer's Successor was going to tell me. But the holy paladin had already said what he wanted.

"I'm unworthy of such an honor, Brother Ruud…"

"That is an excuse, brother! It's the life of a beast talking in you! Come to your senses!"

The holy paladin was seriously angry now. He spent a minute drilling me with a stern gaze, then sighed, poured himself some more tea, and added gently, "Come to your senses, Ilmar, think about your soul! There is no true salvation except in the service of the Lord."

"Ruud…" I finished examining the cleanly mopped stone floor and lifted my gaze, "Tell me, Ruud, who is more pleasing to the Redeemer and the Sister? One who has lived an honest life, spilled no blood, worked without rest, raised children, leaving them his business… Or one who has spent an entire life praying in the walls of a monastery?"

I felt scared as soon as the words left my mouth. But, against all expectations, the holy paladin didn't get upset.

"That is a right question. Everything is pleasing to God: an honestly worldly life and service in a temple. But for you, Ilmar, a thief and a libertine…"

If there was one thing I didn't consider myself to be, it was a libertine. He shouldn't have called me that…

"There is only one path for you: repentance. You can wash away your sins with humility and hardship."

"Thank you for your wisdom, brother…"

Ruud nodded. He touched my shoulder gently.

"Light the fire of faith in your heart, brother!"

It was all well and good. And he spoke with a passion, not every preacher could talk like that from a pulpit. And each word of his seemed to have come from the holy books.

But one thought kept bothering me.

Was it really necessary to hide away in monastic walls in order to pray away the old sins, to not only stop doing evil, but also good? Was doing nothing was more pleasing to God than doing good? Or was I really supposed to punish myself? But then it turned out that God was like some torturing murderer, happy to see others suffer. It was wrong to think that!

Or was it?

There was so much evil in the world. And all payback was on the other side of the coffin, in the afterlife. Some got the gardens of paradise, others got the icy deserts of hell. There, God would comfort the offended, reward them with joy, while the evildoers would be punished… I'd known a man who lived next to us when I was little. He was always ready to mock his wife, hit her, humiliate her with words, even in public. And then it was as if he'd come to his senses. He would caress her, apologize. And she was happy too…

So why would the Lord do that? To test one's faith? But he already knew everything about everyone. He could see right through people, know their deepest secrets.

The far likelier possibility was that God didn't care about us. He'd created us and left us to flounder in the spiritual darkness. Only the Redeemer mourned over everyone, but the Redeemer only had power over souls and could only lament and judge us sinners when our time on earth was up…

I knew I was falling into heresy. And it was such primitive and well-known heresy that there was nothing to feel proud of. Atheists always said the same thing when someone was trying to set them on the righteous path. Priests were tired of explaining about God's providence and that each of us was given a chance to redeem our sins… Priests had many explanations. So many that it was obvious that none of them knew the truth.

It was simpler for me—forgive me, Sister—to think that God had forgotten about us…

Brother Ruud seemed to have decided that I was deep in pious reflections. He was sitting quietly, staring in front of him, and not bothering me. Oh, brother, I did not have as much faith inside me as you. I wasn't cut out to be a missionary. A monk's life wouldn't suit me either. Maybe I could be an honest man, but you yourself had said that I wouldn't redeem my sins that way.

But how would I tell you that, Brother Ruud?..

"Let's take a walk through the city," the holy paladin said.

"As you wish, brother…" I replied.

We walked through Brussels until nightfall. Twice more we stopped at restaurants to drink coffee and grab a bite of thick from the heat waffles with whipped cream. We spent a particularly long time sitting in one of them. It had a newfangled orchestrion. Through the glass door it was clear that there was no deception. The machine did indeed play by itself, levers moved, the bow slid along the double violin, mallets kept the beat on little drums and bells, the organ's bellows expanded, valves opened and closed. A man was assigned to work the machine, spinning the stiff handle and changing large metal disks with holes on them upon request for a few coins. Each disk had music recorded on it. I wanted to choose a song too, but I doubted they had psalms and canons, an it wouldn't do for me in my current position to request "Suburban Girls"…

This gray autumn day, there weren't particularly many people on the streets, except, of course, for the neighborhoods with shops and the best restaurants, like Rue de Chesnay and Grand Place, so I calmed down. Very few guards too. The gas lights on Place des Palais weren't lit yet, city workers were lazily walking in the park with rakes, fighting a losing battle against falling leaves. The telegraph tower atop the viceroy's palace was flapping its wings lazily, the gold-plated imperial eagle was sitting bored atop the gate…

We walked on the carpet of yellow leaves that, despite the efforts of the city workers, covered the park's stone paths; we reached a small dual church that was dedicated to both the Sister and the Redeemer. These were rare. Ruud immediately led me to the image of the Redeemer, which was right. Both of us prayed to the Lord through the Sister, which meant that right now it was important to give a prayer to the Redeemer.

The acolyte, who seemed to be one of the Sister's priests, respectfully kept his distance, unwilling to get in a paladin's way. Both of us prayed in silence. Kneeling, I looked at the mournful countenance of the Redeemer, who'd been tied to the sacred pole with a rough-hewn rope.

Enlighten me!

You were the adopted son of the Lord himself, standing next to him. I rarely addressed you, you were stern with sinners, it was easier to ask for forgiveness through the Sister. But now… could you show me the way? What should I do? Take the faith to the dark-skinned people? Hide out in a monastery?

The Redeemer said nothing. Did he really not care about me either?

Enlighten me!

I'd probably prayed so hard for a moment that everything turned into a blur. I thought I was seeing… no, not a wooden sculpture, even if produced by a holy master and with all possible mastery. I thought I was seeing the Redeemer in the flesh. I was just seeing things…

For a moment.

If that had been the Redeemer's answer, I didn't understand it.

Brother Ruud finished praying and walked up to the priest. They exchanged kisses and spoke for a minute. Then the paladin went to the image of the Sister. I spent some more time on my knees, trying to feel the disappeared sensation… the sensation of life frozen in dead wood.

No. There nothing else.

I rose and, trying not to look into the Redeemer's eyes, went to Brother Ruud.

Before we left the city, I tried my best to tell everyone that the holy paladin and I, unworthy of the honor of accompanying a paladin, were returning home to Amsterdam. Let them guess why we'd been visiting here. Maybe holy brother Ruud had simply wanted to taste some Russian dishes.

I even hinted at that to the workers of the horse station, claiming that the holy paladin was preparing for a distant pilgrimage into the wild snowy lands. So he'd decided to familiarize himself with barbarian cuisine ahead of time…

It was a stupid version, of course. Were there really no connoisseurs of foreign cuisine in Amsterdam? And was it really that important to ride a carriage for two hundred kilometers?

But the more ridiculous an explanation was, the easier it was to believe. People were used to looking for tricks everywhere. So I was leaving the city with a lighter heart.

After getting some distance from the city, the coachmen turned onto an unnoticeable forest road and, rounding Brussels, we headed south. I had no idea how they were going to get to Rome—through Bern or Paris, choosing a roundabout way but on good roads or no longer stopping by large cities—and wasn't going to ask.

It was getting dark fast. Soon the coachmen lit bright carbide lanterns, but they still had to slow down. The road wasn't the same as between Amsterdam and Brussels…

"Would you like some wine, brother?" Ruud asked.

"What about humility and the hardships that cleanse the soul?"

"Not on a mission, brother, not on a mission… there are plenty of those here without that, no need to deliberately humble the flesh…"

I accepted the glass without a word. The carriage was shaking heavily, so Ruud was pouring very little but often. In the east, that was how tea was poured, so that the host had to get up often and refill the guest's cup…

"Brother Ilmar, tell me, what did you think of Prince Marcus?"

I shrugged.

"Nothing special. Just a boy. Well, of course you can sense the breeding. Smart, willful, collected… Stubborn."

Brother Ruud nodded.

"Where could he have gone, Ilmar?"

"No idea. I don't know anything about him, Ruud. Really! I happened upon him… and got involved in his problems. I wish I hadn't met him!"

The holy paladin sighed, "If we found the boy ourselves… and brought him to the Successor. Now that would've been service to the Sister!"

"Maybe he's no longer among the living," I noted.

Brother Ruud fell into grim thought.

"What did he steal?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"But can you guess?"

"Maybe I can," Ruud answered reluctantly. But he wasn't going to share his thoughts.

The carriage suddenly jerked and began slowing. The holy paladin glanced out the window and suddenly twitched and dropped his glass on the floor. The wine stained the expensive upholstery with juicy sprays.

"Problem, Ilmar," he said quietly.

I also peered through the glass.

Another carriage could be seen up ahead in the dull dusk light. It was blocking the way, with a log lying across the road just in case. I could see silhouettes near it, maybe five or six people…

"Ready your slug-thrower, thief," Ruud said sharply. "And pray to the Sister for help…"

He threw open the door and jumped down. He began walking forward. The coachmen also climbed down and walked alongside him. I hesitated, wondering if I ought to slip out through the other door and run into the woods under the cover of the carriage…

What kind of thoughts were those?! I'd never been a traitor and wasn't about to start now!

I climbed out as well, pulling the hood over my face. The slug-thrower was heavy in my pocket.

Who'd stopped us, and in such a thieving manner? The Guard? Or just forest bandits? If it was murderers, they'd let them through, they wouldn't risk the Sister's wrath by touching holy brothers… What?

The carriage blocking the road had church symbols on it: the sacred pole and the bishop's crown. Just like on ours, except there was the emblem of the city of Cologne below it.

And it wasn't hesitant soldiers, frowning guards, or dirty murderers standing in front of the carriage. They were priests in yellow cloaks. And another in a crimson cloak with a blue hem.

A holy paladin.

Another one!

Tension left me for a moment. Had the bishop decided to send us help? Sent a message to Cologne via telegraph or some other fast way…

No, that was way too fast. And why would those coming to aid us be blocking the road?

"Peace be with you, brothers," the other paladin said.

"And with you," Brother Ruud replied. His voice was calm, but it didn't calm me.

"By the grace of the Redeemer, we have met…"

"By the grace of the Redeemer and the Sister."

Right!

These priests weren't from the temple of the Sister, they were from the Church of the Redeemer. Not much difference, of course… they all served the same God…

"Where are you heading, brother?"

The other paladin was deliberately ignoring everyone except for Brother Ruud. His companions—strong, gloomy men—were standing impassively and indifferently.

"On a holy task."

"Going far? Do you need aid on your way?"

"Thank you, brother, I don't."

Maybe we'd be able to go our separate ways. After standing here and talking, exchanging kisses and handshakes.

"May I ask, brother, who is accompanying you on your journey?"

"Holy brothers from our temple. And now help me drag away these trees that have accidentally fallen onto the road and to move your carriage to the side."

I was amazed by Brother Ruud. At the moment, he was behaving the way a real man was supposed to in the face of danger. Without excessive bravado, but also without fear.

"Hold on, brother. These trees didn't fall by accident, but by the will of the Redeemer."

"What happened, brother?"

My ears were ringing from the excessive "brothers". God save me from relatives like that!

"We have blocked the path to prevent villains from coming through."

"And who are these villains?"

"The runaway Prince Marcus and the convict and murderer Ilmar the Slick."

I wasn't scared. I'd expected to hear something like that. But I was offended by "murderer."

"I am unaware of the location of the runaway Prince Marcus," Ruud sighed.

"Too bad. But maybe we should check your carriage. What if the scoundrels have snuck into your carriage?"

There was a note of mockery in the paladin's voice.

"Check it, brothers. It pays to be cautious," Ruud agreed calmly.

The other paladin said nothing for a few moments.

"I believe you that they aren't inside. Tell me, brother, may we be permitted to look at your face as well as at the faces of your companions?"

"Do you suspect us of harboring criminals? Come to your senses, brother!" Ruud's voice rose sharply.

"In the name of the Redeemer, brother! His truth is in me! Show your faces!"

"In the name of the Patron! Her truth is in me! Let us pass!"

Silence fell. Something frightening, ridiculous, impossible was happening on a remote road. A holy paladin of the Redeemer and a holy paladin of the Sister were facing off against one another, threatening each other with the name of the one God, to whom the Redeemer was the adopted son and the Sister was the adopted daughter…

Then the other paladin lifted the sacred pole hanging on his chest towards Ruud.

"By the wood to which the Redeemer was tied, by his blood…"

"By the iron touched by the Redeemer…" Ruud replied, lifting his own sign in response.

Another tie. Each had a high rank given for great deeds. Each was holding a holy relic that had to be obeyed. Did that mean that the Sister was arguing with the Redeemer? Or did God himself not know what to do?

"Brother…"

The other paladin reached out and touched Ruud's shoulder.

"We serve the same God. The Redeemer and the Sister are two banners of the faith, two supports of the heavenly throne…"

"You speak the truth, brother…"

"Why would we lie to one another? Our rank allows us to speak untruths. But why? Do the Redeemer and the Patron not know the truth? The convict Ilmar is with you, and maybe Prince Marcus as well…"

My palms were sweaty. I glanced at the woods and started figuring out how to leap into the bushes. They wouldn't find me. Not in the darkness.

"You're not right about everything, brother. Ilmar is with me, but Marcus is not. I am taking the convict…"

I wasn't a convict! I was a holy missionary now!

"In Urbis, they will help him remember everything that will help us find the prince."

"It's unlikely the thief knows anything," the other paladin said squeamishly. "Brother to find and kill Marcus is our sacred duty…"

What?

I took a step back. The other paladin threw a brief glance at me. Now he knew who was who. But how could he be speaking of killing, they were forbidden from spilling blood! They didn't carry swords or slug-throwers! How could he be speaking of killing the boy! How had his tongue not turned into a toad?

And how could the Redeemer allow his paladin to think that way?

"Brother, our duty is to find Prince Marcus—"

"Kill," the other paladin said coldly.

"You speak heresy. The Successor said—"

"God's Stepson is immeasurably kind. He is prepared to take this sin upon himself. But our duty is to take it upon ourselves."

"No."

"Brother, give us Ilmar."

It was time to run. Holy paladin Ruud wasn't going to fight with another paladin over me.

"We can both go to Urbis," Ruud said heavily, as if pushing sand out of his mouth.

Pride! Maybe Brother Ruud himself didn't suspect it. But he couldn't just kill me or leave me in the forest, and not because he thought of me as a friend or was full of love for his fellow man. It was out of pride. He wanted to fall on his knees before the Successor and deliver me to God's Stepson.

"No, brother, the danger is too great. Ilmar has to die. And you can go back to Amsterdam—"

That was the wrong thing to say.

"In the name of the Sister, let us pass!" Ruud barked. He took a step back, throwing off the other paladin's hand, tossing his cloak to the ground, and pulling out his sword. He did that skillfully, the sword was alive in his hands.

"In the name of the Redeemer…"

The other paladin didn't have a sword. He also threw his cloak off and pulled out something like a flail, two clubs tied together with a strong rope. I'd seen a weapon like that in China, which was how I knew that the matter was serious. The servant of the Redeemer wasn't going to spill any blood. But he could easily kill.

"Careful, Ruud!" I shouted. It seemed that he understood the danger of the unassuming weapon. He circled, drawing quick and deadly figures in the darkness. The Chinese flail spun in the hands of the other paladin.

The other brothers didn't risk getting close to them. Maybe they were afraid of getting hit by accident, or maybe none of them wanted to risk raising a hand on a paladin. Instead, the four other priests rushed the two ours.

Shots rang out. It turned out the coachmen also had slug-throwers! One of the others fell, another one grabbed his shoulder and stepped back to his carriage, swaying. But the two remaining one managed to reach the coachmen. Their clubs raised in the air, and the screams of a dying man echoed in the forest.

Trouble…

The holy brothers were hitting one another skillfully and mercilessly. Before dying, our second coachman managed to pull out another slug-thrower and unload it in the gut of an enemy. Blood sprayed, visible even in the darkness. But then a club fell upon his head too. The other priest put his hands in a pole shape for a moment, then began advancing on me.

"It's a sin for you to kill!" I shouted foolishly, stepping back to our carriage. My legs were barely obeying me but wanted to run. "A sin!"

But he kept on advancing, and when he stepped into the circle of light from our lantern, I saw his face. The eyes were glassy, maddened, filled with faith.

I was afraid of such faith.

Reaching for my slug-thrower, I aimed at the priest's forehead and cocked the hammer.

I whispered, "Stop, brother, stop…"

"Die in peace," he answered. As if certain that I was going to obediently offer my head to his club.

He shouldn't have thought that.

"Forgive me, Sister," I whispered and pulled the trigger. The slug-thrower thundered and kicked my hand. A hole appeared in the priest's forehead. His eyes faded. He stood there for a moment, then fell over.

I hadn't wanted to kill him, a holy brother, but what was I to do when I was being asked to die?

The other paladin finally managed to reach Brother Ruud. He caught Ruud's legs with the flail, causing him to drop to his knees.

"In the name of the Redeemer!" the other paladin shouted, raising his hands to the sky. He swung the flail once again and moved forward…

Right onto the blade extended by Brother Ruud. The steel pierced through human flesh, but there was no way to stop the swing. Brother Ruud did his best to dodge, but the flail struck him in the chest, on the ribs, making him produce a plaintive scream.

The entire fight hadn't even lasted a minute. And now it was over. The wounded priest of the Redeemer was sitting next to his carriage, fruitlessly pressing against the large wound in his shoulder. It seemed our coachmen had been shooting pellets rather than ordinary bullets. I walked up to him, took a closer look, but decided not to help; there was far too much hatred in those fading eyes.

"Die in peace," I said, remembering that I also had a church rank. I walked up to the paladins.

The other paladin was lying in a large pool of blood, as if a pig had been slaughtered. It seemed the blade had severed an artery. I didn't even bother looking. But Brother Ruud was breathing. I dragged him away, doing my best to avoid disturbing his chest. Something wheezing, gurgling there, blood was bubbling on his lips. His chest was wet too; apparently a piece of a rib had torn through the skin.

"Brother Ilmar…" Ruud whispered, opening his eyes. "Run…"

"Don't worry, brother," I said. My throat felt stuffy and there were tears in my eyes. "It's over. The battle is over. We've won…"

"Ilmar… to Rome… to Urbis… Tell God's Stepson that I… humble Ruud… saved you and to him…"

I took his hand and nodded.

"Dark… nothing… dark…" I could barely make out his words, as the blood was gurgling in Ruud's throat. "Ilmar…"

"I'll do everything," I said. "If I find myself in God's Stepson's company, I'll tell him about your heroism…"

Brother Ruud shook his head and spat out blood. He said almost clearly, with immeasurable surprise, "How can that be… I'm a holy paladin… I have to do great deeds…"

I was silent. How could I tell a dying man that no rank and no title could save one from death? Duty, responsibility, love, faith — none of them can protect from it. It was all the same to the old crone. Brother Ruud's earthly live was ending, and his heavenly life was beginning.

"Cold…" Ruud said plaintively. "It's… cold… brother!"

With the last burst of strength, he tried to lift his hand, "I know the Word… weak, but still the Word… take it, I give…"

"Tell me." I got closer to the paladin's face. "Tell me, brother! Tell me!"

"A…"

He tried to inhale and began to convulse.

"Tell me, you have no need of it!" I shouted, shaking Ruud by the shoulders. "Tell me!"

He wouldn't tell anyone anything anymore. He'd departed with his weak Word, on which he'd been holding something. I wondered what it was.

I rose from the lifeless body and walked around everyone again. No one was showing signs of life. Before dying, the wounded one had pulled out a thin silk garrote from his pocket and crawled about five meters towards me while I was speaking to Ruud. He didn't make it.

He's also wanted to do something great. And probably couldn't figure out why he didn't have the strength for it.

"What have you done, holy brothers?" I asked. I felt terrible, almost preferring to have been struck by clubs. "We all serve the same God, want good, but you're ready to go against the faith in order to kill a boy and a convict?"

There wasn't anyone left to answer me. Otherwise the brothers would've found the words. They'd have convinced me to stick my head into a noose.

I placed all the bodies into our carriage. There was no time to bury them, and it wouldn't have been decent to leave them for the animals to feast on. I didn't rifle through their pockets or the other carriage, only checking to make sure there wasn't anyone inside. I might have been a thief, but I wasn't going to take what belonged to God. I only took some food and a bottle of cognac; that wasn't a sin…

"What does it all mean, Sister?" I asked, dragging the heavy, mangled bodies. "Redeemer, answer me. Does God himself not know what to do with me? Or maybe he isn't even looking at us, and we villains are just putting faith in nothing?"

No answer. None. Just the cold and darkness, almost like for Brother Ruud, the poor paladin.

I unharnessed the horses and let all but one go. There was a cage with carrier pigeons in the other carriage, so I let them go free too. There was no reason for the birds and horses to die.

Before closing the carriage door, I touched Brother Ruud's hand and said, "Forgive me, holy paladin, but I'm not going to Urbis and the Successor. There's nothing for me to do there. I've lived as a thief, and I'll die a thief. I'll glorify the Sister any way I can. But I'm not going to stick my head under a club."

Ruud had nothing to say to that. The dead didn't argue.

I mounted the horse; it was nervous, and there was no saddle, but I'd had to ride every which way before. I patted its mane and whispered, "Just get me to a city, dear. I'll leave you in good hands, I promise. Or maybe I'll let you go free. Freedom is better, right?"

The horse didn't argue with me either. So I rode through the night, away from the place where eight holy brothers had killed one another, and each of them had a place prepared in Paradise, for each of them had served God.

How would they avoid fighting one another up there, in those heavenly gardens? Or would they hug it out and praise the Sister and the Redeemer? Or would they place all the blame on me and wait? Maybe it was a good thing I would never see Heaven now, nothing but the ices of Hell…