Jarvit

Jarvit Ch10 p4

The people arranged themselves on the benches. Mrs Anders sat in the front row as if she expected a show, the bodgers sat together with Hep at the back. Jarvit, Holen and the Professor stood by the door looking at the low dias, where there was a large wooden chest with the lid open. Jarvit realised it was the same as the one he had seen in Gilgothan when he had attended his first devotion with the bodgers and the Worthy had spoken to him.

         ‘What’s the box for?’ he whispered to the Professor. The Executioner mounted the stage and Devotees began to file into the Hall and line the walls.

         ‘That represents the Contemptible. It shouldn’t be here now as it is the time of the Sprightly. It concerns me as it means the Worthy must be weak,’ Professor Klimpt replied also in a whisper, although in a Hall buzzing with people talking no one would have heard what they had said. The Executioner raised her arms.

         ‘People, you have come here without bidding, what would you have of us?’ she cried. In an instant there was hush and all eyes turned to the Professor who looked at Jarvit. Jarvit realised that he was the centre of attention for a large expectant crowd and all the strange Devotees in long robes. Jarvit gulped. He did not know what to do. A woman leaned to her neighbour and whispered, they both laughed. A withering glance from Mrs Anders silenced them. She turned back to face the front of the Hall and sat ram rod straight, a powerful control over the rows of women behind her. People shuffled their feet. Jarvit hung his head.

         ‘As you do not know why you have come we will commence the ritual for the Contemptible as is his due,’ the Executioner said.

         No

         ‘No!’ shouted Jarvit and all eyes turned to him once more.

         They must perform the Gratitude, go and close the Contemptible’s chest.

         Jarvit, his heart beating, made his way to the front. He felt all eyes upon him as he approached the open box. He put a hand out towards the lid. The Executioner moved towards him.

         ‘What do you think you are doing?’ she said. ‘Get off the dais at once and do not touch the Contemptible’s casket.’ Holen, his long tail twitching, stepped in between Jarvit and the Executioner, he hissed. The Executioner stepped back in alarm. Jarvit put his hand on the lid. He did not expect the burning sensation that ran through his fingers. It felt as though his flesh was being welded to the chest lid and he could not let go. Jarvit gripped the lid and gritting his teeth against the pain he pulled. Above the roaring in his ears he heard those watching gasp as the reluctant lid came forward and crashed down, closing the casket. The skin was pulled from the tips of Jarvit’s fingers and in his agony he stuck them into his mouth.

         ‘Dissenter!’ cried out the Executioner not daring to step closer. ‘You have upset the order!’

         ‘No, you have upset the order! Why was the Contemptible returned to the Hall when it should be the time of the Worthy, the Gratitude?’ shouted Professor Klimpt. ‘Tell us why?’

         ‘It was - the Sprightly’s time waned and the sign of the Worthy was hidden from us. It is written that if this is so then the Contemptible shall be returned to the Hall. We follow the Will of the Worthy.’ Jarvit pulled his fingers from his mouth.

         ‘It is the Will of the Worthy that you perform the Gratitude,’ he said.

         ‘The Gratitude? But where is the sign from the Worthy?’ the Executioner said in surprise.