On A Dark Night

On A Dark Night

On a dark night,
I went forth without being observed,
In secret, when none saw me
And I could see nothing,
Without light or guide,
Save that which burned in my heart

Dearest brothers and sisters, I write this to satisfy the request of our beloved mother and sister, Odani, who asked that I set the story down with my own hand before I passed into Oneness. I confess that many years have passed since she begged this of me, but I was reluctant, since my own sufferings are slight when compared with others', and yet I do not find the memories of my own experience pleasant. Sensing that I will soon join Odani and the others who were witnesses, however, I commend this story to you, my children, so that you do not forget the reasons that we fight, and the reasons we do not. Indeed, there are some knighted now who were not born during the time of Athovair, and who do not know what it is to be a slave to war.

I was a young man at that time, and full of the zeal of recent conversion to my cause. How wise the Force was to hide from me the speed with which that conversion would be tested! If I had known what lay before me, I might have returned to Athovair's court with my tail between my legs, renounced the teachings of Odani, and accepted the penalty of having my tongue pierced with a burning iron, so that I could no longer spread her "lies." After all, what was pain to a Jedi-Bendu, especially one taught from childhood that it was a dishonor to die anywhere but on the battlefield, fighting for his General?

But I did not know what lay in the future, and so I traveled to the Jedi-Bendu chapter house in Laightos, foolishly thinking that the knights who had withdrawn for contemplation might be sympathetic to my cause. I was heartened when I was admitted immediately, and granted an audience with Master Bluar, Doyen of that house, and his senior Knights-Councilor. I spoke to them for some time on how the office of the Imperial General had perverted the teachings of the Jedi-Bendu, about how we were never meant to be conquerors or rulers, and about how General Athovair had no right to usurp the authority of the Empress.

Bluar and his Councilors listened in grave silence until I was finished, and I flattered myself in thinking that I had done very well. When Bluar spoke at last, he said, "Well, Knight Kearath, I can see that some of the things I have been hearing are true." My heart leapt up with hope and pride, thinking that my first attempt at seeking allies against Athovair had been successful. I was chastened at once when Bluar said, "I can see you are a heretic. Take him to the cells!"

I instinctively went for my blade, ready to fight, and the Councilors all went for theirs. It was only when I was gazing down the lengths of half a dozen weapons that I remembered Odani's insistence that we not fight one another. It was thirst for each other's blood that had turned the Fair Empire into a great graveyard, and this was what we wanted to stop.

I controlled my fear by telling myself that many of our greatest Knights were already one with the Force, and so I should have excellent company if I were sent to join them. Then I relinquished my blade unignited. Bluar and his followers mistook my surrender for cowardice, and had a great laugh at my expense. "The General has little to fear if this is what he can expect from the rest of the rebel heretics," Bluar said.

I was then taken from the audience hall and thrown into a tiny cell. The conditions in that place were beyond describing. It was so small that a man had to choose whether to stand or sit. He could not lie down unless he wished to lie curled up around the waste bucket. Even if he were desperate enough to do that, the floor was of uneven packed earth, with high sides and a hollow in the middle. It was also damp, since the cell was partly underground, and the soil was freezing even in the spring season.

My new "home" was entirely dark, except for a single block of some translucent green material, set high in the wall and mortared in place. Its color was a deep one, so that most of the day it appeared a shiny, slick black. For a few hours in the late afternoon and early evening, however, the sun shone directly through it, and my tiny world was bathed in a dappled, underwater light.

The little cell was so outrageous an accommodation that at first I assumed it was temporary. I would be kept there for a day or two, I thought, until arrangements could be made to transport me to Radeesha Castle as a prisoner--unless I was to be executed at once, and only my preserved head would be taken to Athovair, as a trophy. By the time the light had shone through my green stone five or six times, however, I began to suspect the truth. The next time my jailer--actually the chapter house castellan, but only ever "Jailer" to me--came down to empty my waste bucket and hand me a bowl of watery soup with spoiled vegetables floating in it, I asked him what was to be done with me.