I nodded hesitantly. 'By the grace of God and by your teaching, yes, I believe so, of course.'

'You believe in God, you believe in the Voice?' he said anxiously, urgently, squeezing my hand even tighter.  It was starting to hurt.

'Yes,' I said. 'Yes, of course.'

'You believe in what is said, what is heard, what I am told?'

'With all my heart and soul,' I assured him, trying to flex the hand he gripped.

'Then why are you lying to me?' he roared, throwing his glass to one side and throwing himself at me.  I fell back, toppling over as he thumped into me and pushed me down, pinning me down by the shoulders, my still-crossed legs pressed up into my chest by his belly; I had to put my hand holding the whisky glass out to one side to avoid spilling it, while my other hand lay on my chest, clutching involuntarily at the neck of my shirt.  I stared up at my Grandfather's furiously livid face.

'I'm not lying!' I cried.

'You are, child!  Admit you are!  Open your soul!  Let out this poison!' His body pressed down on mine, forcing my knees into my chest.  He shook me by the shoulders; I felt whisky slop out of my glass onto my hand, chilling it.  I felt around, trying to find anywhere I could leave the glass without it tipping over and spilling its contents, so I could have two hands free, but all I could feel was rumpled bedclothes, nowhere firm.

'What poison?' I gasped, breathless from the pressure on my chest. 'There is no poison!  My conscience is clear!'

'Don't lie to me, Isis!'

'I'm not lying!' I shouted again. 'It is all true!'

'Why persist?' he roared, shaking me again. 'Why add to your sin?' His breath was warm and smelled of whisky.

'I am not!  There is no sin to add to!'

'You took that sacrament!  You stole it!'

'No!  No!  Why should I?'

'Because you hate me!' he yelled.

'I don't!' I gasped painfully. 'I don't; I love you!  Grandfather, why are you doing this?  Please get off me!'

He slid off me to one side, falling against the bottom of the tumbled slope of pillows and cushions, lying on his side next to me, staring at me, eyes still wet with tears. 'You don't love me,' he said, his voice hoarse. 'You want me dead, out of the way.  You want everything for yourself now.'

I struggled upright onto my knees, put the whisky glass on the shelf at last and kneeled by him, my hand on his shoulder as he lay there, wheezing, staring away at the far wall.

'Don't love me,' he mumbled. 'You don't love me…'

'Grandfather, I love you for yourself, for all you've done for me, the way you've looked after Allan and me as though we were your own children, but I love you doubly; I love you as our Faith's Founder, too.  I can't imagine ever loving anybody half as much, not ever; not a quarter as much!' I lowered my face until it was beside his. 'Please; you must believe me.  You're the most important person there will ever be in my life!  No matter what happens!  I love you beyond… everything!'

He turned his face from me, into the bedclothes. 'No,' he said, his voice muffled but steady and calm. 'No, I don't believe that is so; I have listened to God's Voice and They have given me the measure of your love for me.  It has been beyond everything but it is not now… though I think it is beyond you, indeed.'

I didn't understand. 'Grandfather; you are everything to all of us.  You are our light, our guide, our OverSeer!  We rely on you.  Without you we shall all be orphans, but with your teachings, with your Orthography and your example we shall at least have hope, no matter what the future holds.  I know I can never be you and never equal you; I would never even attempt to do so, but perhaps, as the Elect, and as your son's daughter, I can reflect some part of your glory without disgracing it, and, with your teachings as my guide, eventually grow to be a fit leader of the Order.  That is my-'

He turned his head to look at me, eyes bright with tears in the soft yellow candlelight. 'These are fine words, Isis, but you have known an easy life.  We have kept you away from the harshness of it, from sacrifice and doubt and pain.'

'I am ready for all of them, for my Faith!'

His eyes searched mine. 'I doubt it,' he said, giving the smallest shake of his head. 'You say so, but… I doubt it.  You only think you have faith.'

'I do have faith!'

'Untested, Isis.  Mine has been tested, yours-'

'Test mine, then!'

'I cannot,' he said. 'God can, and would do, through me, but I'd risk losing you.'

'What?' I cried, pressing closer to him. 'What have They said?'

He looked away again, face in the bedclothes. 'Do you trust me?'

'With my life!' I said, hugging him fiercely.

He turned to me again. 'Do you trust me?'

'I do.'

His gaze shifted across my eyes. 'Isis,' he said.  He seemed to hesitate.

'What?' I said, hugging him.

'Will you trust me?' he whispered.

'I will trust you.'

'Will you believe me?'

'I will believe you.'

He gave a deep, deep sigh, and rose slowly, almost painfully up from the bed covers.  I helped him up and he nodded in thanks.  He stood facing the shelf where the whisky bottle sat between the scented candles and the joss-sticks burned in their brassy holders.  Standing there on that unsteady, shifting surface with him, my head was filled with the intoxicating warmth of the perfumed room.  He took a step forward and blew out several candles, leaving one burning by the whisky bottle.  He stepped to one side, and blew out more of the candles, dimming the room.  He went along the wall, blowing out all but one other candle, then started blowing out the candles on the shelf beside the door to the sitting room beyond.  I turned, watching him, wondering.  He blew out all but two candles on the far wall, beneath the heavily curtained windows.  By the door to the bathroom, he paused, his back to me. 'We must disrobe,' he said.

'Disrobe?' I asked.

He nodded. 'Disrobe,' he said, and leaning forward, blew out another candle.

I swallowed.  I could barely think.  What else was I to do?  I had said I believed, I had said that I trusted.  I did not know what it might be Grandfather had in mind, what he had been told to do by God, but I knew that it must be holy and blessed and - to my shame I thought of it, I confess - at least I knew that it could not be what the most prurient minds might imagine, for that was banned by the Orthography.

'Of course,' I said.  I took off my jacket and placed it folded on the bed at my feet.  I began to undo my shirt buttons.  Grandfather took a deep breath and blew out another line of candles, not looking at me as I took off my shirt and then undid the button and zip on my leather trousers.  He extinguished a last couple of candles.  There were only half a dozen left burning round the walls of the whole large room now, their frugal light reducing everything, so that where there had been soft light there was now shadow, and where there had been shadows there was now darkness.

My mouth was dry as I slid my trousers off and placed them with my shirt and jacket.  Grandfather faced away from me, turned towards the huge pile of pillows.  He crossed his arms, reached down to his waist and with a grunt, and a slight stagger, pulled his robe up over his head.  Underneath, he was quite naked.  I had taken off my socks and now wore only my knickers.  Seen from behind, Grandfather's body was bulky and solid; not as fat and soft as I'd thought.  Certainly it was an old man's waist, bowing out, not narrowing, but there was a bull-like flatness across the small of his back that I doubted many men his age could boast. 'We must be quite naked,' he said quietly, still facing away from me, addressing the wall.

I felt my heart thud in my chest.  My hands were shaking as I slipped off my undergarments.