Rest was not something that came easily here, so close to the Shrine of the god. Deepest of all were the crypts, where the eminent dead among the Followers of the Unspoken Name were sealed to strive for rest. In the underbelly of the House there were many cellars, hollowed out in the grey strata of the sacred mountain. She was down in the crypt, listening to the dead. One month before the day of Csorwe’s death, a stranger came to the House of Silence. It splashes on the frozen stone and flows into the vessel. The blood runs black in the dim spring light. The girl leads the calf to the altar and they cut its throat. Here is a vessel set at the lowest point of the channel. Here is a stone altar, in which a channel is carved. The procession halts at the foot of the steps to the Shrine. At her side she leads a spotless bull calf on a gilded chain. Going before them all is a girl of fourteen, wreathed with flowers and veiled in white.

They walk the road of white stones that leads into the hills. Every other day of every other year they are farmers and woodsmen, but on this day they have an ancient purpose to serve. Despite the cold these bearers are naked from the waist up. The Prioress rides in a palanquin with six bearers. Its acolytes leave offerings at the foot of the steps that lead up to the Shrine, but they do not come any closer.Įvery fourteen years, in spring, when the streams in the hills begin to thaw, a procession leaves the House of Silence. In the valley below the Shrine is a temple known as the House of Silence. Birds and insects keep away from the place. This is a quiet country, but the Shrine of the Unspoken One is quieter still. The forest covers these hills like a shroud. IN THE DEEP WILDS of the north, there is a Shrine cut into the mountainside.

The unspoken name