“Life for the Sartan on Arianus was extremely difficult. There was so much needed to be done, but not enough people to do it. The mensch populations were increasing rapidly. They had gained in magical talent and in mechanical skills. There were far too many of them for us to control. And that, I think, was our mistake. We weren’t content to advise or counsel, offer our wisdom. We wanted to control. And since we couldn’t, we left them, retreated below ground. We were afraid.
“Our Council decided that since there were so few of us remaining, we should place some of our young people in stasis, to be brought back to life some time in the future when, hopefully, the situation had improved. We were confident, you see, that by then we would establish contact with the other three worlds.
“There were many of us who volunteered to enter the crystal chambers. I was one of them. It was a world,” Alfred said quietly, “I was glad to leave.
“Unfortunately, I was the only one to come back.” Samah, who had seemed to be only half-listening, a patient, indulgent expression on his face, sat up straight at this and frowned. The other members of the Council murmured among themselves. Orla saw the anguish, the bitter loneliness of that time, reflected on Alfred’s face, felt her heart wrung with compassion, pity.
“When I woke, I discovered that all the others, all my brothers and sisters, were dead. I was alone in a world of mensch. I was afraid, terribly afraid. I feared the mensch might find out who and what I was, discover my talent for magic, try to make me use that talent to aid them in their ambitions.
“At first, I hid from them. I lived ... I don’t know how many years of my life in the underground world to which the Sartan had retreated long ago. But, during those rare times I visited the mensch in the worlds above, I couldn’t help but see what dreadful things were happening. I found myself wanting to help them. I knew I could help them, and it occurred to me that helping them was what we Sartan were supposed to be doing. I began to think that it was selfish of me to hide myself away, when I might, in some small way, try to make things right. But, instead, as usual, I only seemed to have made things all wrong.”[41]
Samah stirred, somewhat restlessly. “Truly your story is tragic, Brother, and we are grieved to have lost so many of our people on Arianus, but much of this we knew already and I fail to see—”
“Please, bear with me, Samah,” Alfred said, with a quiet dignity that was, Orla thought, most becoming to him. “All that time I spent with the mensch, I thought of my people, missed them. And I knew, to my regret, that I’d taken them for granted. I had paid some attention to their stories of the past, but not enough. I had never asked questions, I wasn’t interested. I knew, I realized, very little about being a Sartan, very little about the Sundering. I grew hungry for that knowledge. I’m still hungry for it.” Alfred gazed at the members in wistful pleading. “Can’t you understand? I want to know who I am. Why I’m here. What I’m expected to do.”
“These are mensch questions,” said Samah, rebuking. “Not worthy of a Sartan. A Sartan knows why he is here. He knows his purpose and he acts upon his knowledge.”
“Undoubtedly, if I had not been so much on my own, I would have never been forced to ask such questions,” Alfred answered. “But I didn’t have anyone to turn to.” He stood tall, no longer crushed with awe, no longer meek, apologetic. He was strong with the lightness of his cause. “And it seems, from what I read in the library, that others asked the same questions before me. And that they found answers.”
Several Council members glanced uneasily at each other, then all eyes turned to Samah.
He looked grave and sad, not angry. “I understand you better now, Brother. I wish you had trusted us enough to tell us this before.” Alfred flushed, but did not lower his gaze to his shoes, as he was wont. He regarded Samah steadily, intently, with that clear-eyed gaze that had often disturbed Orla.
“Let me describe our world to you, Brother,” said the Councillor, leaning forward, fingertips together on the top of the table. “Earth, it was called. Once, many thousands of years ago, it was ruled exclusively by humans. Consistent with their warring, destructive nature, they unleashed a dreadful war upon themselves. The war did not destroy the world, as so many had feared and predicted. But it changed the world irretrievably. New races, they say, were born out of the cataclysmic smoke and flame. I doubt the truth of that. I believe these races were always present, but had remained hidden in the shadows, until the light of a new day should dawn.
“Magic came into the world then, supposedly, though all know that this ancient force has been in existence since the beginning of time. It, too, was waiting for the dawn.
“There had been many religions in the world over the centuries; the mensch being glad to toss all their problems and frustrations into the lap of some nebulous Supreme Being. Such Beings were numerous and varied. They were never seen, capricious, demanded to be taken on faith and faith alone. No wonder, when we Sartan came to power, the mensch were thankful to switch their allegiance to us, to flesh and blood beings, who laid down strict laws that were fair and just.
“All would have been well, had it not been that our opposite number, the Patryns, rose to power at the same time.[42] The mensch were confused, many began to follow the Patryns, who rewarded their slaves with power and wealth seized at the expense of others.
“We fought our enemy, but battle proved difficult. The Patryns are subtle, tricky. A Patryn would never be crowned king of a realm, for example. They left that to the mensch. But you would be sure to find one of their number acting in the role of ‘adviser’ or ‘councillor.’ ”
“And yet,” Alfred inserted mildly, “from what I have read, the Sartan were often to be found in such roles themselves.”
Samah frowned at the implication. “We were true advisers; we offered counsel and wisdom and guidance. We did not use the role to usurp thrones, to reduce the mensch to little more than puppets. We sought to teach, to elevate, to correct.”
“And if the mensch didn’t follow your advice,” Alfred asked in a low voice, clear eyes unwavering, “you punished them, didn’t you?”
“It is the responsibility of the parent to chastise the child who has behaved heedlessly, foolishly. Certainly we made the mensch see the error of their ways. How would they learn otherwise?”
“But what about freedom of will?” Alfred took several steps toward Samah, passion carrying him forward. “Freedom to learn on their own? To make their own choices? Who gave us the right to determine the fate of others?” He was earnest, articulate, confident. He moved with grace, with ease. Orla thrilled to hear him. He was speaking aloud the questions she had asked often in her own heart.
The Councillor sat silent during the onslaught, cold, unassailable. He let Alfred’s words hang in the quiet, tense atmosphere for a moment, then caught and returned them with studied calm.
“Can a child raise itself, Brother? No, it cannot. It needs parents to feed it, teach it, guide it.”
“The mensch are not our children,” Alfred returned angrily. “We did not create them! We did not bring them into this world. We have no right to try to rule their lives!”
“We did not try to rule them!” Samah rose to his feet. His hand flattened on the table, as if he might have struck it, but he controlled himself. “We permitted them to act. Often, we watched their actions with deep sadness and regret. It was the Patryns who sought to rule the mensch. And they would have succeeded, but for us!
“At the time of the Sundering, the power of our enemy was growing exceedingly strong. More and more governments had fallen under their sway. The world was embroiled in wars, race against race, nation against nation, those who had nothing slitting the throats of those who had everything. No darker time had ever been and it seemed worse must come.
41
A reference to Alfred’s adventures with the child Bane, the assassin Hugh the Hand, and his first meeting with Haplo, recounted in Dragon Wing, vol. 1 of The Death Gate Cycle.
42
A more complete history of the Patryns can be found in Fire Sea, vol. 3 of The Death Gate Cycle.