The Last Tale of Yajikali

Chapter XXVII - Clutching Shards

by Charles Matthias

Cover | Contents | Prologue | Book I | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Interlude I
Book II | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | Interlude II
Book III | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | Interlude III
Book IV | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65
66 | 67 | 68 | 69 | 70 | 71 | 72 | 73 | 74 | 75 | Epilogue

The sword was hungry. Jothay could feel its appetite stalking his mind like a wolf. It had been a few days since he’d given it any blood, but with so much to ready for that evening, he’d been unable to see to its needs. It took all his willpower to keep from biting his lip again. Escorting the disgraced and excommunicated raccoon Vinsah from the Council Chambers was far too visible a place to give in to the blade’s needs.

Of course, now that Geshter had publically announced that he’d been at Marzac, their enemies would be looking at him too. Jothay wanted to take the foolish Pontiff and shove his mitre down his throat. But Geshter was too useful as the Patriarch. There was no one better to fulfill the role. And if they were successful, it wouldn’t matter any more anyway.

But he had to keep up appearances for just a bit longer. “Just come with me, Vinsah. You need to sit down for a bit,” Jothay counselled, doing his best to convey the correct amount of sympathetic remorse. He used to be very good at it, but it was a trial now. Every time his tongue passed between his teeth they tried to bite.

The raccoon was stumbling along at his side, green eyes staring ahead in shock. If he could tell where they were going it would have been impressive. Vinsah’s jaw was slack. Too shocked to even cry just yet. “What... by Eli... what...”

“Stay with me,” Jothay assured him. They were out into the main hallway now. He saw Bishop Rott with arms crossed in triumph standing before them in the passage. The elder priest’s smile was mocking. Jothay began to smile giddily at him. He could not hold back his giggling. “Oh, your grace, you must pardon me. I don’t think you should be here right now.”

Rott sneered. “He’s been excommunicated like the beast he is. Get rid of him before we who fear Eli do so.”

Jothay smiled, his eyes grabbing hold of Rott’s. Rott stared at him for a moment and then began to flinch, stepping backwards, his sneer gone. “Get out of my way, graceless worm. I will do what I will do.” And then he bit his lips once, letting the blood begin to ooze free.

Rott lifted one hand to his mouth, and then stumbled back down the hallway. Jothay licked the blood and savoured the iron flavour. He glanced over to Vinsah who was staring at the pouch in his paws that held the remnants of his yew. Jothay gripped his shoulder and tugged. “Come, I will take you back to my quarters for a time.”

Vinsah wordlessly followed Jothay. They were not stopped by any of the other Bishops for which Jothay was grateful. Rott may be a useful tool, but he was an irritation the rest of the time. If not for his reliable support for Jothay’s real intentions on the Council, it might have been satisfying to introduce the Marilyth cleric to his sword.

When they reached the Bishop’s quarters, Jothay guided Vinsah back to the small room that he’d spent the previous night in. The small bundle of his personal things was still there undisturbed. “Here,” Jothay said, gesturing for Vinsah to sit. “If I had known what would have happened... I do not know what I could have done. I am sorry, Vinsah. It should never have happened.”

Vinsah sat cross-legged on the clay floor, tail curling around into his lap. He clutched the pouch between his paws. Pointed ears drooped, and his cheek fur was beginning to sag. His whole posture was one of complete defeat.

“I will help you leave Yesulam,” Jothay said, but saw only the flick of a whisker in reply to his words. “You need to get out of the city, Vinsah. It will not be safe for you to stay here. I will make sure you leave here this night.”

“Leave?” It was so surprising to hear him talk that Jothay giggled before he could stop himself.

“Yes, leave Yesulam.” He did not have time to explain it all. He needed to get to the altar. “Very soon Czestadt will return and he will escort you to where I will see you the rest of the way. I must go and prepare it for you. Wait here for him, Vinsah. He will come soon.”

Vinsah nodded slowly and then slumped even further, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. Jothay saw it and smiled. “I will see you again soon, Vinsah. It is not the end of the world. Not yet.”

With another giggle he turned from the room and let the veil fall back into place. He rushed madly into his private bedchambers and threw off his Bishop’s robes. He stripped down to his white linens, and wiped the blood off his lips with one sleeve. The time had finally come. All their planning and waiting, and now his part in the Marquis’s grand plan was about to transpire! His heart pounded in excitement!

Pressing the hidden latch in one wall, he slipped into the secret passage and for a moment felt alarm. The golden blade was not where he had left it propped into the small alcove. A moment later he began to giggle again. The blade was clearly visible thirty feet down the hall. It too was eager for tonight’s ceremony.

Jothay bent down and lifted the blade to his sleeve. He rested it on the blood stain and watched as the fabric was sucked tight to the metal. A moment later and the stain was gone. The sword thrummed in his hands and he felt a drumbeat beginning in his mind. The hour was nearly upon them.

“Yes, yes, I am ready!” he crowed, his fingers caressing the golden sheen. “I am ready, my love! My sweet! My sword!”

He continued down the passage, giggling hysterically as he took the first flight of stairs into the deep.

Although Kehthaek had always suspected the Council session would not go well for poor Vinsah, he had underestimated the severity of the Patriarch’s wrath. He had expected censure and perhaps a temporary denial of the priestly gifts Yahshua had presented all clerics of The Way. But excommunication? And even worse, excommunication in perpetua? Could there be any fate worse for a priest?

Kehthaek disregarded such thoughts. As he had feared, it was no longer safe for Vinsah in the city. It was essential that they see him safely away on the Sondeckis ship. The Magyars would still need to follow Czestadt to the altar, but Kehthaek and Felsah could tend to the disgraced raccoon.

“I cannot believe it,” Kehthaek admitted as he and Felsah slipped behind a large palm frond and through a hidden door. “I feel a fool. I should have seen it.”

“Seen what?” Felsah asked, his own voice strained. “That Geshter was an enemy all this time? How could we have known? The record of the exorcism at Marzac was erased from the archives.”

Kehthaek shook his head. “Vinsah was targeted because he was close to Akabaieth. They thought they were going to kill him at Metamor too. So now they will silence him. Any other voices who think to cry out for peace will now think again.” The Questioner sighed, but made his way through the dark tunnel quickly, one hand feeling across the walls. “I should have seen this coming.”

Felsah said nothing but followed him closely. The passage turned and went down a short flight of steps. Another twenty feet and it intersected a cross passage. The Magyars waited for them with only a single oil lamp providing any illumination. They looked to the Questioners curiously, but said nothing. It was the Questioner who stood amongst them, Akaleth, that spoke, “The Driheli found us. We’ve been waiting here all day long for you. What happened at the Council session?”

Kehthaek lowered his eyes. “Vinsah was excommunicated in perpetua by Patriarch Geshter. His Eminence also admitted before the Council that it was he who performed the exorcism at the Chateau Marzac. The extent of Jothay’s allies and our enemies only continues to grow.”

“Excommunicated!” Akaleth said in surprise. A guilty expression soon came across his face. “I fear that my words may have led to this. I... I...”

“There is nothing for you to say,” Kehthaek assured him. His eyes turned to Nemgas. “Are you ready?”

Nemgas nodded slowly. “We hath waited only for thee two. Delius waits at the docks. Thou shalt deliver Vinsah unto him?”

“Yes,” Kehthaek replied. “Even if we rescue him from Jothay, there are others in this city who will try to silence him forever. Now let us hurry. Sunset will be upon us soon.”

The Magyars were all armed with axes and bows. Only Nemgas and Sir Poznan carried blades. The Driheli knight looked ashen, and his lips murmured silent prayers. Nemgas’s face betrayed nothing. The other Magyars were all nervous, but trembling with excitement. Even Gelel, who looked so very young to hold a weapon. If all went well, then tonight they would finally bring an end to Jothay and this abomination beneath the city. And perhaps they even pondered if they could return home afterwards.

The dark clay passage between the walls led down another set of steps before going up again. It dead ended at the top of the stairs, and Nemgas listened at the wall for half a minute before he gestured that it was safe. Slowly, gently, he edged the door open enough to slip his heavy frame through. A few seconds later he motioned for the rest of them to come through.

After Chamag, Pelgan and Gamran entered, the Questioners all emerged into the bright room. It was the Bishop’s private office and bedroom. They had watched and listened to the Bishop there for some time now, but they could never see where the Bishop went when he disappeared. Nemgas could not find in Kashin’s memories any recollection of a second passage leaving this room.

The room was mostly in order. The Bishop’s garments had been heaped in a pile on the bed, and they stank of his sweat. But as always, there was no indication where the priest had gone. But they could faintly hear through the veil into the other room someone sobbing.

“Vinsah,” Kehthaek said softly. Nemgas nodded and motioned for them all to be still. Berkon and Kaspel kept watch back down the secret passage while Nemgas leaned against the wall. He lifted his fingers to the veil and peered out into the room beyond. He stayed that way for several seconds, turning his head so that he could see as much as possible. At last, he pushed the veil aside and stepped through.

The room beyond was Jothay’s greeting room. The centre of the room was lowered with pillows spread about the carpeted interior. A bright window overlooked one of the garden courtyards in St. Kephas’s Cathedral. Pelgan lowered the drapes over the windows while Nemgas pulled a set of gold curtains before the entranceway.

Kehthaek took a deep breath and pulled back the veil through which they heard the sobbing. Before them in a bare little room was the raccoon. He was slouched over the small pouch in which Kehthaek had seen Geshter deposit the pieces to his yew. The raccoon did not look up at them, his eyes streaming tears. His sobbing was almost the whining wail of a beast. The Magyars stared at him open mouthed, unable to believe what they saw. Sir Petriz made the sign of the yew.

Akaleth saw that and slapped him across the cheek. “Don’t you dare make such a sign before this man!”

Sir Petriz looked stunned and then lowered his face, ashamed. “Forgive me.”

Vinsah was gazing up at them with unthinking eyes. He saw Kehthaek and recognition began to blossom there. “Father. Why? Why did this happen?” His voice was raw from all his sobbing. He held out the pouch in supplication. “Why? I did everything Eli asked of me!”

Kehthaek pushed the pouch down and knelt before the raccoon. “I fear you were betrayed, Vinsah. Betrayed just as Patriarch Akabaieth was. We must get you out of here before those evil men come to finish what they started.”

Vinsah snorted and dropped his head. “Why does it matter now? I’ve been damned for all eternity. I can never see Heaven. I have been denied Yahshua and all of His grace. What is there left?”

“Do not talk nonsense, Vinsah. You were betrayed by evil men who have usurped St. Kephas’s seat.”

“But they were in his seat. So what does it matter?”

Nemgas snorted. “It always matters.”

Vinsah turned to gaze at him and then his eyes widened. “You.. You... You... Kashin?”

Nemgas shook his head. “I dost carry what Kashin started. But it always matters, Vinsah. Eli didst not create thee to wallow in misery. If you doth not survive, then evil wilt prevail.”

Vinsah looked back to Kehthaek who began to nod. “He speaks the truth. Jothay has betrayed you. He is allied with Zagrosek. Zagrosek even now waits for him down at an evil altar beneath the city. Czestadt was ordered to bring you there at sunset. It was Jothay who told Zagrosek the Patriarch’s itinerary. And it was Jothay who orchestrated your excommunication. You were a target just as Akabaieth was. As long as you are alive, you are a threat to them.”

“So what would you have me do?” The raccoon stared up at them with green eyes. His whiskers drooped, and his ears were folded back in fright. “I cannot even claim to be a Follower without committing further sin!”

Kehthaek sucked down his breath. It hurt to see his friend of old brought to this. The pain was palpable, and more visceral than any victim of an overzealous Questioner. “A ship is waiting for you. It will set sail this very night, and deliver you to Metamor where you can wait in safety. The rest of us here will do what we can to root out the evil in the Ecclesia. One day, this may all be undone.”

Vinsah sighed heavily. “So be it. I believe you, Father.”

Kehthaek nodded. “Felsah, take his things. We must leave now.”

Felsah shook his head. He sucked in his breath and there was a deep weight in his eyes. “I have to stay here, Father. I have to wait in Vinsah’s place.”

“What?” Nemgas barked. “Dost thee know what Czestadt may do to thee when he finds thee instead of Vinsah?”

“I know,” Felsah said. “But somebody has to be here to keep him from searching for Vinsah. He must take us to the altar. If he finds nothing here, he may go searching for Vinsah. If I can hold him here long enough, he may go to the altar without him.”

“Or he may take thee,” Nemgas pointed out.

“Either way, he’ll be going to the altar.” He turned to Kehthaek, a plea brimming in his eyes. “Father, please, you know I speak the truth.”

Kehthaek considered the words for a moment, but found nothing he could say against it. With a heavy heart, he began to nod. “You do speak the truth. Very well. Remain here. Nemgas, you know what must be done. I will escort Vinsah to the ship and then return here. When you are finished destroying that evil place, come back here so we may plan. There is still much that must be done.”

Chamag slipped beyond them and began putting Vinsah’s things away. He drew out a long cloak from the pack and handed it to the raccoon. “Here, this shouldst hide thee from the eyes of men.”

Vinsah took it and pulled it over his shoulders. “Who are you people? Why do you help?”

The burly man nodded. “We art Magyars, and we hath long wanted to see one of thy kind. Now go and be safe. We wilt do the rest.”

Vinsah pulled the cloak over his ears and looped the pouch within his belt. Chamag slipped the travel bag over his shoulders, while Kehthaek guided him out the door. The raccoon’s eyes were still lifeless, but he was moving at least. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he saw the secret passage in Jothay’s bedroom. “Jothay was the one who betrayed Akabaieth and so many others to their deaths?”

Kehthaek nodded. “It was he. Akaleth heard it from his own mouth.”

Vinsah examined the young Questioner intently for a moment. “You seem different.”

An unhappy smile crossed Akaleth’s lips. “I have seen... the light.” He almost laughed the last word, but it was bitter and contained no joy. “Forgive me, Vinsah, for what I have done to you. I shall pray for thy soul to Eli.”

“I have been excommunicated in perpetua,” Vinsah snapped, a bestial churr under his words. “That would be a sin.” He turned down the passageway and stepped into the darkness. His body shuddered with another sob. Kehthaek gave his companions one last determined look before helping the beleaguered raccoon find his way. Amile handed the lantern to the Questioner and then closed the door behind him.

Kehthaek quickly caught up with Vinsah but said nothing. There was nothing he could say that would make the pain any less. He too would pray to Eli for this man, sin or not.

“Who was he?” Amile asked, her voice a quiet whisper in the silence that fell upon the Magyars and Questioners after Kehthaek left with the strange, melancholic raccoon man. Her words echoed the other Magyar’s thoughts, all apart from Nemgas who was perhaps an even better person than even the priests to answer her question.

“He was once Bishop Vinsah of Abaef,” Nemgas said, looking at the cold empty room they had rescued him from. It was almost a cell in comparison with the posh suite Jothay occupied. “Thou dost remember the tale I told thee of the great man Patriarch Akabaieth who didst visit Metamor Keep?”

Amile nodded, as did the other Magyas. Akaleth only dimly paid attention. His eyes were upon Felsah who was running his fingers across the wall of the small chamber, lips mumbling words of a prayer.

“Aye,” Gamran said, a grin crossing his lips. “‘Twas a sad tale. Was that man the one priest who didst survive?”

Nemgas nodded. “Aye, ‘twas him. Kashin ne’er saw what form the curses of Metamor did lay upon Vinsah, but it was that man. Thou didst hear him call me by Kashin’s name, as he didst recognize Kashin’s countenance upon me.” The Magyar frowned and began to run his fingers across the jewelled Sathmoran blade at his hip. Caur-Merripen, the black and silver blade he had found in the ancient Åelf city Carethedor, rested upon his other hip.

“Well, he hast gone,” Chamag said with a grunt. “We shouldst not delay. Czestadt wilt be here soon.”

“Aye,” Nemgas agreed with a quick nod. “Thou wishest to remain here, Father Felsah?”

“It is what I must do,” Feslah replied as he knelt down in the centre of the room. He smoothed out his black robes, the red cross at its centre clearly visible. “Do not worry about me.”

Akaleth knelt beside him for a moment. “Are you certain? These men are evil and must be destroyed. Giving yourself to them is foolish.”

“I will play my part,” Felsah replied, lifting his eyes. “Please,” he asked, “let me do this.”

Akaleth took a deep breath and nodded. A unhappy smile came to his lips. “I still think this is foolish but if this is what you want to do, then do it.” He frowned and stood up. “I know I have not always thought well of you. I will never do so again.”

“Nor I you, Father.”

Nemgas growled. “We hath no time. Akaleth, get back in the tunnel. Sir Petriz, go with him. We must conceal our tracks. Ja!”

Sir Petriz went wordlessly. Akaleth scowled but followed. He did not need to give any further instructions to the Magyars who quickly scoured the floor for any traces of boot prints or scuff marks. Nemgas watched Felsah lower his head in prayer, sucked in his breath, and then turned away. There was nothing more he could do but wait.

It was a long walk to the wharves. Most of it by necessity was spent beneath the city streets. Vinsah said nothing of the extensive network of sewers and secret passages; either he had seen them before or his sullen apathy had returned. Judging by the sluggish, almost lifeless pace of his steps the Questioner knew it to be the latter.

After the first ten minutes, Vinsah did begin to speak. His first words were the beginning of a prayer, but they died in mid-sentence. Helplessly, he managed to ask, “Am I even allowed to pray the prayers of the Ecclesia anymore? Would it do me any good even if I did?”

“It is always of benefit to pray to Eli,” Kehthaek replied. “You of all people should know this. You have more reason to pray than most. Did not your mentor Akabaieth once say that the best time to pray is now?”

Vinsah churred unhappily. “My mentor. And Jothay was responsible for sending the assassin?”

“Akaleth witnessed the man who you and others described doing Jothay’s bidding.”

“And Akaleth survived to speak of it?”

Kehthaek kept his face still, and gestured for the raccoon to take the left tunnel at the branch just ahead. “Akaleth only escaped through Eli’s grace. He was being tortured by Zagrosek. They wished to know who Akaleth’s allies were. Unwittingly, Akaleth revealed to Jothay that they had uncovered that Akabaieth’s killer was corrupted by Marzac. Do you remember Bishop Morean of Sondeshara?”

Vinsah nodded slowly. “Jothay told me that he’d gone missing.”

“Jothay murdered him,” Kehthaek replied. “Akaleth was forced to watch. He never told Jothay or Zagrosek our names, or anything else once he realized that they were evil. It was not easy for him to accept that he had been wrong.”

Vinsah could well remember Akaleth’s manner when he’d come to Metamor to question them all. Quick to accuse and eager to brandish his whip, Vinsah had even slapped him across the cheek for uttering foul words against Akabaieth. And yet now the very same Questioner had apologized to him. If any of them had sided with evil, he had always thought it would be that one.

“What else do you know of Jothay?” As long as he could focus on Akabaieth’s betrayal, it was something concrete. His heart was able to beat in anger over that. And it kept him from thinking about what had just happened in the Council Chamber.

Kehthaek narrowed his eyes. “He is in possession of the Sword of Yajakali spoken of in the Marzac legend. Tonight he wishes to perform some rite at an altar that lays hidden beneath the city.”

“An altar?”

“A place of evil. Jothay has kidnapped children from the poor districts and sacrificed them to the sword. Akaleth was forced to watch that too. He and the Magyars will be following Czestadt there to destroy Jothay and his ally. With luck, tonight the Patriarch’s assassins will all die.”

“Is there a woman?” Vinsah asked. “There was a woman mage with Zagrosek that night. Is she here too?”

Kehthaek shook his head. “I have heard nothing of her. If she is here, then we have yet to see her.”

“So, what else will you do?”

Kehthaek pointed to a set of stairs that led down off the passage. “It is not much farther.” He took a quick breath and continued. “With Patriarch Geshter’s revelation that it was he who performed the exorcism at Marzac, it has become painfully apparent that Jothay is not our only enemy. It is my belief that Jothay and Geshter have cultivated all the worst tendencies and impulses of the Bishop’s. Few have been able to oppose them. They conspired to kill Akabaieth and yourself. Morean they have murdered. I fear it may be only a matter of time before those like Gavroche are also killed.”

Vinsah let out a bitter laugh. “Will you trust Gavroche so easily? I trusted Jothay. Before we left for Metamor, Jothay was one of our firmest supporters on the Council. He was a reliable voice of moderation, and Akabaieth even wrote in his journals that there were few apart from Jothay and I that he would trust. Yet all that time he was a traitor. How do you know Gavroche won’t be the same?”

Kehthaek did not smile. He let the mask of the Questioner fall across his features. His footsteps glided across the clay passage, and for a moment the only sound was the clop of Vinsah’s sandals. “I cannot act alone, and I fear that I will not have the support of the Magyars much longer. Already they grow restless and wish to leave this city. They have no safe haven here anymore, and after tonight, the man who sent the Driheli to kill them will be dead. I do not believe I can keep them here after that.”

The passage turned and led to another staircase that continued down a long way. At its end Kehthaek knew they would find a doorway into one of the wharf-side taverns. Captain Delius would be waiting for them there. As they began their descent, Kehthaek continued in a much quieter voice, “I need allies, Vinsah. We need them. It is not just Geshter, or even Rott and Temasah. Grand Questioner Mizrahek has acted to stymie any further investigation of Akabaieth’s assassination. I have come to the conclusion that I was selected deliberately to go on the Questioning to Metamor to prevent me from becoming Grand Questioner.”

“How deep does the conspiracy go then?”

“I do not know. Tonight we will destroy one of its instigators, if Eli wills it. Tomorrow we begin finding the rest.”

Vinsah let out a long sigh. “Either way, I will never be coming back. I am cast out forever.”

“Only of the Ecclesia. You are not a fool, Vinsah. I do not believe that of you ever. You have longed the whole of your life to be in service to He who fashioned you in the womb. You will find what you need to do to continue to serve Him.”

But the raccoon could not say anymore. The emptiness he felt was beginning to gnaw at his heart. How could his beloved Ecclesia have come to such a poor state? Had both he and Akabaieth been blind all of this time? It seemed an even crueler joke than the Council Session had been.

“Here we are,” Kehthaek announced. The stairwell ended in a wooden wall. Kehthaek gave it two soft knocks, and it opened inwards.

“What kept you?” Delius said in a low growl. “My men are getting restless.”

Beyond the doorway was the backroom to the tavern. It was only big enough for a handful of people. Delius was a large imposing man dressed in the purple of a Sondeckis. His robes were cut close to his hip to allow him more freedom of movement as befitting a sailor. Dark eyes bored into Kehthaek and the raccoon beside him. “Vinsah?” he asked in a low whisper.

“It is he,” the elder Questioner replied. He was a bit out of breath after climbing down all the stairs, but Vinsah was not even breathing heavy. The raccoon looked up at the Sondecki with unconcerned eyes. “You will need to set sail immediately. Others will come looking for him to bring him harm.”

“I will have to put you in the hold, Vinsah,” Delius said, turning to regard the raccoon without any hint of revulsion at his inhuman appearance. “And you wish to be delivered to Metamor?”

“Where else can I go?” Vinsah asked, his voice hollow.

“There is no place in this world better for you,” Kehthaek said. “The people of Metamor are good people. They are your kind, by choice or not.” The Questioner paused and patted Vinsah on one shoulder. “I am sorry that it came to this, my old friend. I will do what I can to help the Ecclesia regain her footing.”

Vinsah nodded and then turned to one side so that the Questioner could see more than just his nose protruding from the cloak. Green eyes met him, shrouded in a mask of black. For the first time, Kehthaek truly saw the beast that Metamor had made him. His heart shuddered.

“Thank you, Father. Do what you must. I will... do something.” Vinsah turned to the sailor. “Lead me on. Take me... home.”

Delius nodded first to Vinsah and then to Kehthaek. He slipped a heavy hand over Vinsah’s shoulder and guided him out into the main tavern, keeping his body before the raccoon’s protruding snout. Kehthaek stood for several seconds watching the pair disappear.

When the door to the main room fell shut behind them, Kehthaek took several seconds to draw over his face the façade of the Questioner. His cheeks grew stiff, lips locked in a firm rictus. Eyes became cold and grey. His breathing stilled. With unfathomable grace, he glided up the staircase back into Yesulam proper.

There was work to do.

Cover | Contents | Prologue | Book I | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Interlude I
Book II | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | Interlude II
Book III | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | Interlude III
Book IV | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65
66 | 67 | 68 | 69 | 70 | 71 | 72 | 73 | 74 | 75 | Epilogue

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