 
Schisms

Book One of the Red World trilogy

By V. A. Jeffrey

Copyright © 2012

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved.

Artwork By Ferdinand Ladera

An Epistle Publishing book

The stories contained in this book are works of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, past or present is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Book I

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Appendixes

Author Notes

Notes and Information

**I.**

Long ago during the Age of the Void when God sat alone He made six Pillars, He being the first. They were great engines of stardust and cloud and He set them in seven places in the universe. Then He made a small world. Beautiful it was and He named it Chialis, which means: Red Jewel. He set it in the very center of the Pillars and covered it with a mantle of stardust and cloud and inside it was the spark of His Essence. These things were the primordial makings of Man. Then He made others like Himself, lesser gods, and after the Void of time these set to work throughout the heavens. The mantle of veils was lifted from time and space and these gods made the other stars and the worlds of the heavens. Then they asked to see the jewel God had made, Chialis, the Red Eye of heaven, the Eye of God. Some gods set to work crafting and weaving life here from the spark and during the Age of Creation the Eye began to thrust out its light and beauty. There are many worlds in the heavens but Chialis is the very birthplace of life and greater than all others for it was made from the First Pillar of Creation.

**-** _Sha 1:1_ **, Translations of The Holy Aishanna**

**Chapter One**

1650 A. T. V.

The way was long and the road invisible to all but the hardy peoples of the desert. They knew the land from one end of the horizon to the other, whether the endless dunes and deep powder sands of the deep desert, the rocky ground and tough greenery of the plains or the mountainous regions of the high deserts in the north, with their mazes of gorges and caves. They had secret ways through the sands, hidden from unfriendly eyes. A protection in the dark days. They used these on the hottest days of the year, when an entire tribe was on the move or during a Great Gathering such as this.

The soft eye of the first milk moon had risen and the sky had settled in a hazy mass of deep blue and violet. The blue evening star Elitaph shined like a sapphire set in a kingly diadem. Dahlan had first perceived the blood mark in the sky. Not the usual red-pink, orange or lilac colors, depending upon the season or the weather, but the blood-red that always heralded a change in the affairs of mankind.

"The red! The red! He is come!" He'd said to the other elders. For days he proclaimed it. And so they were in keen expectation of the prophecy from then on.

The other moon had already set and would rise again just before dawn, leaving them with less light to see by. It was a good thing they'd managed to ford the Mowret before darkness had fallen. They were traveling to the Plain of The White Bones, a shallow, wide valley of flat rock and sand of the mountainous land north of Hybron. A Great Gathering had not happened since the Destruction and before that, since the Revolt of Tribes, a time so long ago that it was no longer counted in years by the tribes. But something had changed. Every man and woman who still lived among their tribe, the ones that kept the old ways, knew it. It was on the lips of many in the outlying towns and villages and even some among the soft _epolei_ in the cities that still knew their tribal roots: "A king will rise again and set matters straight respecting kingdoms and princedoms and tribes and peoples."

"Signs and portents I have studied for years and I have lived long enough to see a promise come alive. It will be the last time I see such a thing." Said Dahlan.

"I wonder it is that you can still see anything. I cannot!" Said his friend.

"Mighty, Dahlan has always been! He still leads us now, even from his palanquin!" Said another elder. The others laughed, joking with him good-naturedly.

"Perhaps, my brothers, but truly, it will be the last time. I feel the death in my bones and my soul these days. I wonder if it will lie with my great-grandson?" He thought of Khalit. The child was not yet six years. His brothers showed no indication of seeking kingship. There was precious little time left and he would likely not see the child grow up.

"It may." Said one of the men. "The seed has been spread among us. Your sons have always been mighty, Dahlan. Perhaps the king shall really come from your seed."

"I hope to know of it before I go. My youngest nephew's elixirs have kept me alive these many years. Where is Jabi, eh? He must stay close! I could die at any moment!" Cried Dahlan in mock panic.

"Jabi's quass keeps us all alive longer than we deserve but he will not give up his secrets." He laughed and the others laughed again but there was a note of sadness in it. Dahlan, foremost elder and head chieftain of the Karig had lived to be one hundred and forty-five years old. Men did not live that long anymore. Most died before reaching one hundred and twenty years and men in the cities did not even live to be that long. With him would go the oldest living memory of stories, histories and great wisdom of the past.

The tribal elders and tribal mothers, one thousand in all among the Karig, streamed toward the line of large cactus that told that they were getting close to the plains. Shaikhs and tribal mothers from other tribes were streaming from all directions: the Karigites and the Raeanites – the most numerous and powerful, the Petrites and Gilphaens from the north and west, the Makebites of the South Lands, Elapu and Holamites of southern Hybron, Corelians of the east in Zapulia and the Nalianites from the west.

The tribes were the progenitors of all of the peoples of Chialis that settled all over the world. Many city people had forgotten this fact but a tribesman never did, whether he worshiped the First Pillar or not. Not all tribes followed the old ways. Many chose other gods. Even so, some from each kept the worship of the First Pillar. And most from the Raea and Karig tribes did so.

Once they had converged there were thousands, as if many caravans were converging on a great caravan city. Dahlan felt his heart leap. The oneness of the tribes was strongest when they gathered in sacred places. He reveled in the feeling. All had seen and heard of the mysterious man, a new desert holy father who came to some in dreams and visions, to awaken the people to prepare for what lay ahead.

After a few hours they all entered the Plain of the White Bones. Originally, in this place there had been a mighty battle between two male _yaryebu_ , and both had died. It had another significance. A terrible war happened here ages ago between those that wanted empire and those that wanted the wild ways. It left countless dead. It was the scene and birthplace of many empires, kingdoms and massacres. When the carcasses of the god-elephants rotted away until there were only mountains of bleached bones left, resembling the ruins of primeval temples it became a sacred meeting place for the tribes. The bones gleamed bright in the pale moonlight. They began dislodging from their camels and horses and unloading the pack animals and lead them down the gentle slope to set up the camps. Tents were raised and pinioned and the cooking fires were stoked. Evening faded into an ocean of deep violet-black with the stars splayed across like sea-spray. The young fighting men chosen to accompany this great host all stood apart until the elders had all settled onto the low plain and they set up camp all around the ridge. Their torches ringed the ridge, glowing and flickering like firebugs. The red ram's horn call was made on the ring of the plain. Another inside the low plain was made in response. But this time there would not be the traditional Night Prayers.

The man appeared during the call, in robes seemingly made of pure, white starlight. The light of the fires paled in comparison. His eyes seemed to burn with an inner fire and even those gathered along the ridge could perceive the figure in white clearly.

"You know the time is coming." His voice was like that of rushing waters. "Dispersed within you is the seed of the line of the Red Kings, the true kings! Airend-Ur has gathered you together to look for the coming of the new king. Many of you will die before he rises but he will come in your sons' generation. The corruption of the priesthood has been noted and they will be called to account. He will come to cleanse the temple and raise the kingdom of Hybron again for its rightful heirs. Some will rise up against you and persecute you but take heart! God will deliver His promise. He will come like a flaming star-sword and you must follow in the fiery wake! Do not do the way the treacherous Ainash have done in defiling the Holy Writings and the temple and oppressing the people! Keep true and the king will rise among you and lead you to victory! Those that die shall go to paradise!"

"Hool! Hool! Hool!" They all shouted the exclamation of joy. The plains roared and echoed with the thousands of voices,

"Airend-Ur shall give a sign, one sign for you this night to tell your children and grandchildren that He is with you people!" Said the man and he pointed to the sky. Suddenly in the sky all around them there appeared spirits, what looked like visions of gods in the mists - it was the army of heaven at God's right hand, dazzling like the stars. There were gasps of shock and shouts of elation.

"Fear not you people for He is with you!"

"He is with His people!" The gathered crowd shouted in near frenzy.

"Blessed be His will and His name, the First Pillar who set all others in their places. He is the First and the Last. He rises up through the sands of time a king in His name. Ellah Kaifah!" He intoned.

"Ellah Kaifah!" The crowd roared in agreement. "Hool! Hool! Hool!"

Thus, it began.

In the year 1663 A. T. V. Khalit Ka Dahlan of the Karigites rose up against the Kushigyar of Jhis and gathered many valiant, mighty men to himself to put the Kushigyar to death by the sword and he took power. During a night of festival when the rulers were drunk amidst revelries he rose up against them with Zarammelech and Aquillam who were in the City Guard and with three thousand men he overtook the city. He then tore down the walls of Rhuctium and of Haiga and established himself as ruler over all the attendant city-states of Hybron that used to be under the ancient kingdom, except Zapulia, which was also called Ellah. Egi then rose up in rebellion against him and with a great military force he came by way of the north and destroyed towns and cities in the north of Egi. Then he went to its capital, Egium, and threatened the ruling chieftain with destruction of his land and execution of all his family. Egi then also submitted under him. He then waged war against Temuz the king of Zapulia, also called Ellah, the one making it difficult for the people in Jhis because of his waging war against them and his waging war on the Karigites. He then defeated King Temuz and King Temuz went limping back to Zapulia. After these things occurred, Khalit then became king of Hybron and he was called Khalit-Aisu, meaning "King by God's Hand", or "First True King". And he went rebuilding the walls of the cities in the land and expanding his army and exacting tribute to increase the treasury. It was then, when he took power that he turned away completely from serving Airend-Ur.

\- _The Third Book of the Kings 14:2,_ **Translations of The Holy Aishanna**

1685 A. T. V.

"I am in a mood, Bakku!"

"My king? Would you like music? Theater, perhaps? There is a new play in the. . ."

"No! I am in a mood for a new wife. You know I hate theater. What is the matter with you?"

"There are many worthy concubines you already have. One of them could be queen?" Bakku quested, watching the king with a sidelong glance. The king gave him a withering look. Bakku bowed low and started again.

"There are high-born chieftains' daughters and noblewomen here and in the surrounding cities. I shall send word out."

"Discreetly. I do not want the queen to get wind of it, yet. The woman is barren as the high desert. All my concubines have given me children. Healthy sons! But none from the queen. There is some evil design here, I think."

"Of that I have no doubt, Your Greatness. Yet, there is the one from Egi. Chieftain Tenan Seht's daughter."

"The Strabian woman, again?" The king said in exasperation. Bakku cleared his throat quietly.

"She is high-born, Your Greatness." Far higher born than you, barbarian! He thought contemptuously. "She is a lady. The Strabians have taken root within the cities hundreds of years ago, as I've said before. Wildness has been bred out of them. She would be an excellent choice for queen, Your Greatness. Refined they are, well bred. Also, there is the matter of her family wealth and strength. King Kufun continues to raid the southern borders and King Temuz keeps spreading the wicked lie that you are a usurper and the son of cannibals. Yet, he controls cities that used to be part of this land. Important trade cities. Trade cities that might be won back, Your Greatness." Bakku stressed. He watched intently as the king's face darkened in anger. Bakku continued.

"They both become bolder with each passing year. Soon you will have to go to war again and you need more monies and more forces at your disposal, Your Greatness."

"I defeated them."

"You did not destroy them, my king." There was a long silence.

"Any inheritance from her family goes to her brothers. Strabians are not like those of my tribe. Their women can inherit nothing on their own."

"They are the highest caste tribe in the region, in all regions, in fact. They are also the wealthiest and most of all, the house of Seht. In fact, they are not even truly counted or thought of as a tribe any longer but an ethnic people that dominate the city of Egium. Her father is very old. She is still young and unmarried. Some say he may die before the year is out."

"Which means her brothers will inherit his wealth."

"Oh, but did you not hear the news, my king? His sons are dead. Only the daughter remains."

"How? Why did I not hear of this?"

"No one knows for sure. I only very recently heard this news. But may I remind you that the likelihood of the two rival kings on your borders making an alliance is growing. You have only half of what you began with in the treasury, fighting wars and securing the borders. Lady Taliat is now the proper heir to her father's fortune and household and the many warriors of that land."

"And when her father dies with no sons, it will go to his brother." Insisted the king. Bakku sighed in irritation but was careful to do so quietly. He marveled at how such a fool could seize power and hold on to it for as long as he did. Bakku hated the wild people. They were _luti_! Filth! They refused to live in the cities, could not read and were as ignorant as the day was long. No refinement. No education. This usurping king being the prime example of desert filth. But King Khalit was charismatic and had the love of the people of Hybron. They saw him as a so-called hero, liberating them from the ruling Kushimen and the Kushigyar. He still remembered seeing the body of the Kushigyar he had served being dragged through the main boulevard behind the king's chariot after the execution. He remembered the riotous, deafening cheers of the people. A threat to the rest of the ruling Kushimen like him of the city if they did not bow to the tyrant king. He shuddered inwardly, knowing he and his fellow Kushimen narrowly missed that same fate. He swept those dark thoughts from his mind. Bakku had a plan and needed to make sure the plan succeeded.

"Oh, my king," he began again, folding his hands together. "That is true only if she remains unmarried at his death. If she is married, or betrothed before that happens, the wealth goes to her husband." He remained silent, letting it sink in. The king gazed at him for a long time.

"She is very beautiful, is she not?" He finally said. Bakku nodded slyly.

"And wealthy."

"How old is he? Her father? One hundred years, I think."

"One hundred twenty-five."

"Mighty in age."

"Indeed, but no man can live forever." The king fingered his signet ring.

"Take a delegation with you Bakku and go to Egium. Let it be known that we seek a wife from the House of Seht, the great chieftain, lord of Egi. Report back to me. If everything is satisfactory you will bring her up from Egi, a very great retinue with much fanfare. Wedding preparations will begin the same week of confirmation of the marriage betrothal. Be sure you are right about this, Bakku."

"I am sure of it, my king or I would never have made mention of it. It would be an excellent match."

"Call for my secretary. I will have letters written and you must be ready to leave in three days for Egi. As for the queen, I will tell her myself. You may go, Bakku." The king handed him one of his signet rings with the golden lion figurine.

"Anyone seeing this ring will know that you bring messages from the king." With a feeling of deep satisfaction welling up in him, Bakku took the ring and hid it in one of the deep folds of his robe, bowed low and left quickly on the king's business.

**Chapter Two**

Letters had been written and sealed and preparations had been made to make way for the delegation to Egi, a small land west of Hybron, ruled by vassal king, Tenan Seht. Falcons darkened the skies as they were sent to inform all the king's counselors and officials in all the cities and towns throughout the land of his plan to take a new queen.

The capital, Egium, was a major trading center, second only to Yallas-by-the-Sea, the great port city in Zapulia, in the southeast. In the past these lands were once part of the kingdom of Hybron. Zapulia was once known by an older name, Ellah.

Egi still remained under its authority and much of the grains, staples of the Hybronian diet, came in great caravans from Egi; teff, wheat, millet, barley and the most precious grain, rice. As it was difficult to grow rice in these arid lands, when one could grow rice, it commanded very high prices. Even higher than salt.

Egi itself was a land of opposites. There was the great river Mowret. Thriving towns and fishing villages had grown along its banks because of the fertile land surrounding it and there was the soft beauty of tall, swaying date palms up and down the river. Farther north the land rose into steep, sharp mountains and crevices with streams that poured into the Mowret. Its most fortified and wealthiest city was Egium. The capital was built into the side of the rock face of a mountain that sat near small, crystal streams. The entrance was a narrow gorge that served as the passage way into the city with great walls of deep red rock, fearfully high, rising on either side. It was one of the great trading centers for merchants traveling by land and there was rarely a day that one did not see long lines of caravans streaming through the gorge.

Hurrying on his way from the king's secretary he saw a fellow priest of the temple, Ilim, making his way down from the other end of the hall. The wild peoples called him a sage. He hated Ilim. He was the most contentious, disagreeable and foul-tempered man he had ever encountered and he often consorted with the wild peoples. He even smelled like them! However, Bakku, ever a man of refinement and manners, put on a wide grin and gave him a courteous head nod.

"Greetings, my brother." He said. As usual Ilim merely glowered and said nothing, sweeping past him. This pitched Bakku into a scarlet rage but he fought it down. _He thinks himself better than his fellows! Better than me, even!_ This Ilim was beside himself with pride and rudeness. Bakku glared back to see Ilim turn the corner of the long hall and then he tip-toed down the hall to watch where Ilim was headed. As he'd suspected, Ilim was headed straight to the king's chambers. Of all the men in the kingdom, only Ilim was allowed to come and go into the king's presence without appointment or announcement, being a former friend to Khalit's family and a teacher and sage to the king's tribe. Such effrontery! _One day you will pay for your insolence and disrespect, Ilim_. He vowed. Ilim was a growing thorn in the side of the temple priests and always he found opportunity to display his raw contempt for the honored men, scribes and teachers at the temple, calling them "Corrupted and rotten." – Ilim's favorite accusation. Had it not been for the king's affection for him, Ilim would have been barred from the temple. But things were in motion. Bakku could feel it, put his finger on the invisible line of event-movement, like a snake slipping under the sand along a dune. One day, Ilim would pay a high price for his disrespect.

Bakku continued on his way, passing along one of the many wide balconies of the palace. It was a very hot mid-winter day. Uncharacteristically hot. An omen. The air smelled of spices, smoke, incense and mountains of burning flesh. The arenas were filled with the games all winter long and it infused the city with a special wildness and uncertainty in the air. The victors left with ladre, honor and love from the people, the losers left honor to their families and were ushered by the sun god's sister-wife, Hari, to the great halls of fire, or so the heathens believed. Corpses, human and animal were burned on the arena altar to Hec or in the case of the criminals who were deemed unworthy to fight in the arenas, they were swiftly executed and thrown in the eternal fires outside the city. Bakku made a warding sign as he thought of that accursed place. Across from the eastern edge of the palace from his vantage point was the great Golden Temple of the Aishanna-La. He made his way to his apartments. He would soon send for a messenger to keep his brothers of the temple abreast of the momentous news. He passed by the queen's apartments, glancing at the intricate latticework of the windows and mused at what her reaction would be to her new position. Witch! He wondered if she was even watching him through those maze decorated windows. He sneered at that thought. She was instrumental in putting the king at odds with the interests of the temple but she had finally fallen in favor. He felt a wicked surge of satisfaction in that. He'd thought this day would never come. Too bad it had not ended in an execution. But who knew? Bakku had no intention of leaving that string untied.

"Your Greatness, Ilim has come." Said a servant.

"Bring him in." The guard bowed low before the king and then to Ilim, ushering him into the king's private chamber. The doors to the balcony were wide open, letting what little breeze was left of the afternoon in.

"Have someone fan us. Bring the large peacock fans, and something cold to drink." Khalit said. A servant bowed and hurried off.

"So what now, Ilim? Have you have come to scold me again?" The king picked at some dates in a jeweled bowl.

"I have not come to scold. Your decisions are your own. Only that these games are becoming increasingly bloody and brutal."

"I see. You have come to scold. You do not approve of the fighting? Of the hunting games?"

"I see no sense in them. I saw a great _yaryebu_ brought from the far north. A magnificent beast! I had thought they no longer existed. You intend to slaughter this animal as well?"

"I do, if it is what the people desire, and they do desire it. It makes them – and the sun god – happy. Keeps their minds off their troubles."

"Why do you not address their troubles instead? And why worship a god that demands such cruelty?"

"What is cruelty? It is but the cry of the coward! I can see Him. He rides high in the sky, every day. He answers my prayers. He is not far off somewhere, invisible and distant. He requires courage whether it be in battle or in the arena. To show courage is to shed blood. To risk life! Savage beasts tearing men to pieces, men getting the mastery over wild beasts, the arena battles, wars! Nothing is held back! The smell of the blood, the roasted meat of bone, brains and sweat, the sight of torn flesh and the bloody maw; it is there in the open for the people to savor. No barricade exists between Hec and the savage beauty of life in the arenas. It is a fiery world with harshness and cruelty married to beauty and glory and we who worship him live in it from moment to moment!"

"You think your tribesmen weak then? You think Hec is the only god that requires great courage? That war and bloodshed is the only courage, Khalit? Is it such a little matter to you that you have turned away from the true path?"

"Do not trouble me with this again, Ilim! Your god is dead. He did not win me my throne, nor will he help me keep it. Besides, I have other matters to deal with."

"Do you not heed the prophecy? Is it for you to be king? Is not God the one who decides these things? Those who simply seize power are rarely fit for it." The king's eyes blazed and he slammed his fist onto the table.

"Watch yourself, Ilim! I am not one of those priests at the temple! I tolerate enough insolence from you but I will not tolerate treasonous words." Khalit warned. Ilim bowed and changed the subject.

"Caravans have arrived at the East Gate. The tribute from the vassals in the south has come. However, the salt caravan has not arrived."

"Why not?"

"King Kufun is harrying the caravans crossing the Sidunna. There was a recent attack on one of the southern villages again. I have heard rumor that he is massing an army on the last island in the Gaspa."

"Tarkal." The king sighed heavily. "He has recently finished building a fortress city there, from what I have heard. I did not worry over it because it was so far away."

"It is far, but he has recently acquired _drekar_." Said Ilim. The king heaved another a deep sigh. He stroked his beard.

"I wonder. An entire fleet of _drekar_ in the South Lands. I had only heard tales of such ships in the far cold West Lands, where no men I know will go. Yet, he has acquired them. Small wonder his raiders are able to get to the southern coast so quickly. I will put a stop to him soon enough. There is a plan in motion, Ilim. I have made a momentous decision." Ilim raised his brow.

"You may not like it, though you rarely approve of anything I do. I am planning to put aside the current queen and I am taking a new one." Ilim was genuinely surprised. His mouth opened, wordlessly, turning into an 'oh'. He did not speak for a while as the realization sank in. Khalit watched him closely.

"She has not given me a son, Ilim."

"But the queen is a good and virtuous woman. And besides, you have many healthy sons already!"

"None of them born from a queen."

"Since when has that ever been an impediment to kingship?"

"It is an impediment when a king must secure his line amidst upheaval. Since I have sat upon the throne I have had nothing but uprisings, rebellions and raiders from the south and the east. Bastards can sit on the throne and rule without care when times are easy."

"But she is of noble birth! Will you just cast her aside as if she were a rag?"

"I have no choice, Ilim. I know what people say, the nobles of the city. Savage! A tyrant who would be a king! Usurper! I know what they whisper."

"You did take away their power, my king."

"They were no better. How is a city-state ruled by nobles better than a king? They pretend to have some knowledge and refinement but they desire power just as I do. I do not pretend to anything."

"It must be said, though the nobles hate you, the people love their king."

"That is what matters to me. So, I give the people what they want. Blood and bone for sport, grain in their bowls and meat in their cooking pots."

"Say what they might about you, you are no bastard, my king." Said Ilim.

"It does not change the fact that my sons are. I need a younger, fertile queen. I will not treat Diti poorly. I have never abused her. You know that, but I must do this in the interests of my legacy. In the interests of peace and security." The king said with finality. Ilim sighed. This was not good news to his mind but everything this year boded ill. Winter had come and gone like a gazelle and spring had not arrived, yet it was unusually hot, even for Hybron. It was the month of Lali, a winter month, yet it was as hot and dry as the month of Yin. It was going to be a very long summer and very long summers, Ilim noted, always signaled great trouble in the land. Khalit had completely abandoned the old ways. Once a man of the Karig got married, he married for life. He could marry as many women as he could afford but putting away a mate was a serious offense to the tribe, to the families involved and to God. But Khalit did not worship the god of the Aishanna-La any longer and Diti's natural family were long dead. There was no one to stand for the queen's honor and matters of kingdom politics and wealth mattered far more than honor in Jhis. Ilim had tutored him and taught him from infancy the Holy Writings. Trouble. A great sadness washed over him but he pulled himself together as he heard the doors open. Servants came in bringing massive, wide feathered peacock fans and stationed themselves by the king's chair. Others came in with trays of delicate ewers of ice cold wines, goblets and bowls of sherbets with iced fruit.

"Let us retire to the balcony." Said the king and the small train followed him out to his favorite spot, a slim, lacquered bone table amidst stone benches littered with embroidered throws and pillows. Thin veils hung from the balcony rooftop to keep out the insects and protect from the sun's heat. The trays were set before them and the fans began gently waving on either side. Khalit poured some iced, soured milk for himself and mixed in some plum juice. He could not stand the refined wines of the cities. At least with that, Ilim noticed with approval, he was still a tribesman. Ilim took an iced plum and sucked on it. His eyes were drawn to the Golden Temple with its gold-tipped towers and dome. Thick columns of incense smoke streamed from the vents of its central dome. He had serious business at the temple soon enough. Anger rose in him and he quelled it by taking a deep breath and averting his eyes from it. He turned to the king.

"Does she know yet?" The king glanced at the servants and made a hand signal.

"Leave us!" The servants bowed and scurried away. "No."

"And who will the new queen be?"

"Perhaps a Strab chieftain's daughter from Egi. I am sending Bakku to Egi to see about the matter more fully." Ilim frowned. However, he did not permit himself runaway thoughts. Khalit was fickle when it came to women. It had been difficult to convince him to marry in the first place and right after he wedded Diti he took many concubines. He could very well find some reason to put this new wife away also, if she displeased him.

"She lives in Egium. Her father is ancient, but very wealthy. The dowry can be used for rebuilding the treasury. What I can gain from her family is more ladre to buy what I need to build up my army. The chieftain has a small army of valiant, mighty men of his own. I will add them to my own army if I think the match satisfactory. If what I hear and see about this woman does not satisfy me, there are others."

"And Bakku, who has been urgently arguing her case in front of you for many months now is in charge? Do you think you will receive a dispassionate report on her?"

"I would send you if I could. I know you would tell me the truth, Ilim. However, I have others in the delegation who will balance Bakku's praise with a cooler opinion. Even if she is ugly or unacceptable in some way, there is the more important question of ladre. I need to rebuild the treasury."

"If you are building up your army then I suppose the tribute has come just in time." As much as he hated to see it happen it was inevitable. The queen had not given the king any children. _Why had not God seen fit to bless the marriage with sons?_ He wondered.

"Indeed." Said the king, sipping his wine. Ilim looked out across the city. He was sure after having seen Bakku slithering down the hall that somehow the entire Ainash priesthood was behind this. They disliked the current queen and had worked toward her downfall from the beginning. It seemed to him that there was no devilry they were not behind. Yet, Ilim could sense that many forces were at work. He would have to talk with Queen Diti. It had been some time since he had spoken with her. She was a holy woman and perceptive, for a woman. Perhaps there was some reason why she had not borne children beyond what he could ascertain. If Ilim was right about things, it was likely that she already knew what was coming.

**Chapter Three**

The queen listened intently for the small scratchings of her messenger cat as she was practicing her calligraphy script. She was cleaning one of the brushes when she heard the gentle, telltale noises. She got up and lifted her skirts, stood on the chair near the trap door in the wall and unlocked the latticework door. Fricka shook herself, finally back from her wanderings. The little copper ball fastened to her collar gleamed with tiny lights, suggesting that information had been recorded. Fricka lept down from the ledge and rubbed up against her skirts.

"Let us see what you have found." Her senses were alert. Something was going on in the palace, just out of sight. It was the feeling of a sinister, veiled thing that seemed to twist, flutter and touch everyone in the palace except her. She felt she was at a loss. Fricka was extraordinarily good at gathering information and secrets, keeping her one step ahead of everyone else but this time it was as if something invisible was purposely staying just out of reach of her senses and she was deeply disturbed about it. Yet, had she not agreed to this life for a higher purpose than her own comfort and status? She sensed that whatever was buzzing around the palace, it was about her. The king had not sent for her in months, yet even that was not so unusual. Whatever it was, she had fallen in esteem in the eyes of the concubines as well, like foolish Salayma who thought herself the king's next favorite, even having the effrontery to sit in her place in the Queen's Banquet Hall and in the sitting rooms, smirking at her. All this fighting over attention from a king who barely took notice once he had what he wanted. She pitied them more than anything. If she had the interest in court politics and intrigues that they did she would truly be a holy terror but everyone rendered an accounting in the end. There were none who escaped the Eye of God. So, she held herself aloof from it all. She saw herself as one small part of a long, inexorable moving line of fire that was reaching for a purpose in the future. Everyone was. Even these others, squabbling over thrones and power, played a part in the moving line of the future, whether they wanted to or not.

And then, there were the strange visions she'd had recently.

She unhooked the metal ball from Fricka's collar, locked her bedroom door and went to the far wall of her inner sanctum, a room hidden behind luxuriant hangings and filled with walled chests. Chests with drawers filled with many forbidden things, such as tablets inscribed with forbidden information. She fished out a key hidden beneath her sash belt and went to a small panel on the far right side of the wall. She touched the polished wood panel, pushing gently. It clicked and dislodged itself and turned, sliding down. The true drawer was then revealed. She stuck in the key and turned it. It clicked and unlocked. Listening for anyone who might be approaching, she glanced back at the cat. Fricka would alert her if anyone approached. The cat stood behind her, gazing serenely with wide, gray-green eyes. The queen pulled out an object wrapped in cloth and set it on a nearby table. She unwrapped it. It was a small electrum and wooden box with a thin electrum rod with spiral ridges. She screwed the ball, made of the same metal as the machine, on to this rod until it tightened and fit snugly. She opened the box and set a small candle inside, lit it and waited. The flame heated the wires inside but instead of burning them the wires began to light up and then the ball itself began to glow. She quickly got one of her bronze hand mirrors and held it up to the ball. Images began to appear in the mirror. First she saw servants busy about their chores, and the image of stone and then carpeted floors - Fricka traveling down halls and through rooms and in between hangings. There were images of the cavernous kitchens, roaring cooking fires and then the fires themselves seem to engulf the images in the mirror. Fricka had gone through the huge fireplace through some secret hole or tunnel – they were numerous in the palace – and then darkness. Then a pale light appeared at the end of the tunnel and then there was an upper chamber. It was one of the king's private rooms. Two men were talking. One of them was the king, the other had his back turned but her heart froze in her. He wore the scarlet robes of a man of high rank or wealth and his long, stringy black hair was pulled back into a knot at the base of his head. His sleeves were shortened to show off the three silver arm bands of intricate filigree work on his right arm. _Bakku!_

Bakku was her greatest enemy in the palace and she had noticed lately that whenever that jackal was prowling around the king, the less he would send for her. In growing alarm she watched as the king handed Bakku his signet ring. Bakku was once a priestly scribe who had recently become a scribe and a messenger of the royal court and he had influence among the Ainash priesthood and wealthy patron families of the Golden Temple. The image showed Bakku leaving the room and making his way to his own apartments. Fricka had been trained to keep an eye on Bakku's movements and she'd learned to find secret ways to follow him and go to and from his apartments, unseen. She fled from the secret peep-door at the king's chamber and soon the images showed Queen Diti that Fricka had made it to the king's study where the secretary waited. He had the secretary prepare a letter but nothing could be ascertained, only that great haste was made. Fricka had waited patiently until the many letters were finished. Then wax was melted and the seals affixed, the king's seal of the lion of Hybron with his initials below. Both men left the room and went to the balcony, waiting for the seals to dry. Fricka gingerly lept upon the table and recorded the letters more closely. The ball magnified the paper of the letters until it seemed she could almost read fragments here and there, though they were enclosed. She could not read all of them, only a few words from the letter on the top of the pile. It was addressed to the chieftain Tenan in Egium. She caught two words that made her heart stop once more.

New queen.

She now new her deepest suspicions were correct. Khalit wanted a new queen. She'd known this day would come, but it still wounded her. She blew out the candle, unscrewed the ball and put the machine back in its hidden place. She picked up the cat and went to a divan. She took off one of her delicate veils and draped it over her bronze mirror to obscure her reflection. She could not bear to see herself now. She sat down, stroking Fricka's soft gray fur. No matter her greater duty, tears fell silently from her face. She'd thought these feelings toward Khalit had all but disappeared, but they had not.

"You did well, Fricka. You did well." Fricka mewled softly.

**Chapter Four**

Ilim stood in front of the assembly of priests and scribes, his brothers of the temple. Lower scribes sat in the lower pit behind him. The priests sat up high on the platform, the higher scribes on the lower level platform, most looking down at him with various shades of disdain, some with unconcealed hatred. They all wore their golden and silver bands proudly, even rolling up their sleeves to show their obedience to the Law of the temple. Such as it was among them. His activities at the temple had lately drawn larger and larger crowds of people, some curious and looking for entertainment, others, looking for trouble. He could feel hatred seething around him like a stoked fire. He looked in all the faces gathered for Eliaz, one of the few friends he had, but could not find him. He said a silent prayer of thankfulness. Eliaz usually managed to avoid involving himself with the most egregious crimes of these men.

This was not the first time he had brought a complaint against them for ignoring the words of the Holy Aishanna for their own ends. The priesthood was rife with corruption and with the newly elected High Priest, Silam Tybbl-Awat, they had become particularly cruel in their punishments, mostly against their own people. The Tybbl-Awat family had been close to the former Kushigyar and had never forgiven the king for what he did. They despised Ilim for his genuine friendship with the king. Silam sneered at him, his eyes, a near pale, colorless amber, narrowed almost like slits. He reminded Ilim of a cobra. If only he could put his foot upon the head of that cobra. . .

Just a few days ago a young man was stoned to death by the "law-givers" of the Ainash, the Hatchet Men, good-for-nothing men looking for controversy to occupy the time. The young man was found concealing his sister, a girl of fifteen, forced to marry one of the wealthy patrons of the temple, who was regularly beaten and in one instance nearly beaten to death. She fled from her husband and his family. Both the girl and her brother were put to death. Many of the Aishanna-La were in an uproar over the incident but feared the Hatchet Men. Yet, the priests disregarded the Law in the Holy Writings that such disputes were to be resolved in tribunal. Never was death to be meted out to a husband or wife who could not live together. Any man or woman that abused their mate in such a way that ended in death could be subject to retribution by the victim's family. These laws had long been ignored and derided by the priesthood as incorrectly written and so abuses like these had begun to flourish. Ilim was here once again, like a gadfly, to denounce them.

"You have among you a wicked man, a devil who is known for beating to death two wives already and yet you do not bring him before the tribunal!"

"Pestilent man! Here he comes again with his nattering and chattering as if he were a sage of old." Sneered one of the scribes.

"Who are you to challenge us?" Shouted one of them.

"I am one who still has regard for the Holy Writings! Writings you discard like so much refuse when it does not justify your wicked desires! You commit all sorts of enormities with impunity! Do you think that God does not see you? You have the man among you! He has flouted the law and all that is right before God's eyes! Bring him out! Bring him out and cleanse yourselves of this evil! To refuse to bring him to justice is an affront to God and all that is holy!" Ilim's voice coursed through the Golden Temple like thunder but it did nothing to move them. Except to scream in rage at his boldness. Many beat themselves in a show of public anguish and hurled curses at him. Ilim had seen it many times before and wondered why he always came back.

"Dak Rullak!"

"May your goah shrivel up and turn black!"

"This man would counsel us, yet he runs with the savages and the animals of the desert!"

"Savage! Shut your mouth, Ilim!"

"You dare to threaten us?"

"May Airend-Ur rebuke you all! I am one of you and so I dare and more if you do not do what is right! You have a murderer among you and he has shed innocent blood! The family cannot call for justice because they fear what you have become! Corrupt, wicked! Yet, I do not fear my own brethren. I chastise you instead. Do what is right or God Himself will bring retribution! Do you think you can call yourselves servants of the Lord of the Deep Heavens and do this in His sight and He will not become enraged at you?"

"We already have His approval and always have since the beginning when the Aishanna was given to our forefathers!" Shouted the high priest. "Throw him out! Throw him out!" A great din was raised by the priests, scribes and elders. Some even called for his head.

"That is enough of you, Ilim! You are no brother to the Ainash! We host no criminal among us but we have allowed a heathen like you to remain too long among our ranks. You have forgotten yourself! We do not need you telling us the Writings, we know them for ourselves! You go back to writings that are old and apocryphal. Any woman who is unsatisfactory to her husband is subject to her husband's law and if he has decided she is found wicked and should die, it is not for you to reinterpret the Aishanna!" Shouted the chief priest. Ilim bristled.

"You show me where you have read such a thing!" Ilim countered but they would have no more of him. Bakku sat with the other higher level scribes, with a look of smug satisfaction on his face. Ilim shook with rage. With one accord they rose up and rushed him. Ilim was shocked. They dare not kill him when he had the ear of the king!

They did not, but they took him and threw him out of the temple. They ripped his robe to shreds until he had nothing but his undergarment and they began beating him. The mob outside joined in. The only thing that stopped them were the guards who knew Ilim and knew that the king might revisit death upon anyone who harmed one of his friends. After the guards broke up the mob, Ilim, now bloodied and only half conscious, still managed to struggle to his feet, with help, and spat in the direction of the temple and threw up dust against it. He still had his leather bands.

"You are cursed and you will pay for your evil! Not to me but to all the people you have ill-treated and murdered. Their blood cries out from the sand! You will pay and this temple will be cleansed one day." Vowed Ilim. And it was done. He was now an outcast.

Ilim sat in his one room house, his manservant Vai tending his wounds.

"They are nasty wounds master, but not infected, so far as I can see. You will be badly bruised for a while but they will heal."

"I do not know why I remained with the Ainash for so long when I could see the filth they cover up. They are even worse than the priesthood of Hec."

"You will always be an Ainash teacher, master. It is they who are false."

"Be careful how you talk Vai or they will come after you as well."

"Yes, master."

"Water. I need water. After this week Vai, I shall not have the money to pay you. I will give you your wages for the week and then you must find other employment."

"But master, can you not find work at the king's court?"

"I have not the temperament for court intrigues or court life. No, I shall go into the high desert. The desert will hold my fate now. I will write a reference for you."

"Thank you, master." Said Vai. He put his liniments in a wooden box after putting clean bandages on Ilim's wounds. He drew a cup of water from the cistern by the fireplace and gave it to Ilim who drank it down thirstily. He gazed at the clay cup, wondering what would become of him. It was evening and the sun filled the room with light and heat. Ilim rested himself on his bed and listened. Far away he heard dogs barking. A goat bleated and the women in the neighborhood were preparing cooking fires. He had chosen to live among the working and the poor, and among the tribes when in the desert, himself living simply and desiring hardly any possessions. But where would he go now and what would he do? The Golden Temple was the very life of one who followed the Aishanna-La. Being cast out was unthinkable to most, and he, an old man. Vai's voice suddenly interrupted his gloomy solitude.

"Master! Someone is here to see you. It is Laita!" Ilim nearly started at the name but he was too weak to move.

"Let her in, let her in." He waved at Vai. A woman, heavily veiled in gray, the colors of an unmarried woman, appeared at the doorway. Her clothing was plain but her carriage and demeanor told Ilim she was not a common woman. In fact, he knew who "Laita" was. Another woman dressed in plain robes stood behind her.

"Come in. Vai, leave us." He said. He handed Vai his key.

"Madam." Vai said to her, bowing and went on his way home. Laita closed the door behind her and lifted her veils.

"You came alone, Your Greatness?"

"It was not easy but I came with my personal guard. Uwain is outside. I can care for myself. You know this."

"Do not let yourself become offended at me, my queen, but as you can see, I cannot get up. Why have you come?" She stared at his wounds and bruises in horror. His face was swollen and barely recognizable.

"What happened, Ilim!"

"I had a controversy with the priestly murderers at the temple. I will recover."

"They did this to you?" Ilim nodded.

"I will tell the king! Murderers indeed! I will. . ."

"No! Do not do that! I will recover. There is nothing to be done."

"But Ilim. . ."

"God has always been with me and is with me now. I say I will recover, my queen!" He snapped and then groaned in pain. He softened, after forgetting who he was addressing in his pain and anger.

"Forgive me, Your Greatness, but it will only cause more trouble in the end. I have washed my hands of them and they of me." Anyone else who addressed her that way would have had been soundly whipped. She smiled slightly, seeing that Ilim was in a sour mood because of his pain. It would not do to fuss over him for he would not tolerate it.

"Fine. I will have a physician come to see you." He waved his hand dismissively at this. She shook her head.

"Have you not heard the news? I am being put aside. The king seeks a new queen." Ilim spread his hands over his face.

"You know then?" She asked. He nodded and then looked up at her. There was a sad look in his eyes.

"It would seem I am the last to know everything these days. Even with Fricka working on my behalf."

"I hated to hear of it, my queen."

"Do not worry for me, Ilim. I have warned my sisters of what is to happen. They will instruct me on what to do next. I am a servant of God in all this."

"As we all are."

"It was revealed to me long ago in a vision, the rise of a king will come soon. But that king will not come from me. It might surprise you that I was instructed by the Temple Mother before we were even married, not to bear children for the king. That is why we do not have children." Ilim looked at her in surprise. He tried to sit up but could not. He grunted at hearing her mention the women of the citadel.

"But why? I do not understand."

"Many ages ago the sons of the last Red King," she looked around warily as she said it. "were dispersed throughout some tribes in Hybron and of the surrounding lands. Fragments of that line have been preserved and found from what Mother Berenice has told me. She saw it in a vision and later so did I. Even the king himself is a descendent. This new queen, whoever she is, is also of the blood. A child will come from these two, it was told to me in this dream."

"I wonder, why did the king choose to marry you?"

"I have discerned that I am a wall to prevent any other line or seed from coming to the throne of Hybron. What is important, the seed of the paternal and maternal lines is what will survive." She smoothed out her veils. Ilim looked thoughtful.

"So you are a seer as well? You should leave the court, Your Greatness and go back to that citadel." The queen smiled.

"I have often thought of it. The Mother of the citadel was my mentor for years before I was sent off to be married. Perhaps I will someday but there is work yet to be done."

"I mean what I say. Do not stay at court. There are dangerous people there. You do not belong amongst those jackals. And this new one from Egium. . ."

"I am viewed by all in the kingdom as a barren woman and by all intents and purposes I am a barren woman. I am no threat to this new queen."

"You may say that but who knows what any woman thinks? The thoughts of a woman make no sense to me, if you will forgive me, Your Greatness. Still, there is rarely room for two queen bees in one hive. Remember that." Queen Diti was not surprised that he often angered so many of his brethren but she'd always liked his boldness. With Ilim there was bluntness but no lies. A refreshing change from the atmosphere at court.

"I must go, Ilim. Do you need anything from me? A position at court or perhaps elsewhere in the city? Your wisdom and knowledge would be valuable to many a school in the land. And the king could use your guidance."

"But not my tongue. No, my queen. I do not need anything. Go in peace, my queen." He said.

"There is one more thing. How soon will you leave?"

"What do you mean?"

"I need you to go to the citadel. I had another vision some days ago. A young girl is living among them. Her name is Anet. You must find her, Ilim. In some way she will play an important part in all this." Ilim felt apprehensive. An order of women was strange and he did not approve of those desert women out there without the guidance of priests to teach them.

"You are sure of this, Your Greatness?" He asked, doubtful.

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life. I have the visions only rarely but when they come I know they are true."

"I shall think on it."

"Please do, Ilim. It is very important. Thank you." He heard the heartfelt plea in her voice and it moved him. The queen covered herself and left.

It was the last time he saw her.

His head was now splitting in pain. He was beginning to feel sorry that he'd dismissed Vai from his service early. He mustered up the strength to get up and he made a pot of boiling water and poured nigella sativa oil into it. Soon the room was filled with its strong, warm, musky scent and it eventually dulled the pain, helping him fall into deep sleep.

Ilim dreamed a dream. He was walking amidst the eternal fires outside the city. All around him the air swirled and folded with black smoke from the great heat. His own skin did not burn even as he walked through the fire. He approached a monstrous mountain, the largest of the old mountains beyond the ruins of Assenna. The Mountain of God. It rose before him like a waking beast. Then he heard a voice.

Ilim! I have called you to my holy mountain. Look! Change is coming. The time for the Red King to rise has come again. I have set you as a prophet. I am Airend-Ur, the First Pillar, the First One. Get up and ready yourself for the road is long and after you come to my mountain you must go to the holy women in Gamina.

But Lord, these women! Why must I go to them?

Because they have kept the old ways. The Ainash have left the true path. I shall cleanse the temple in due time and cut off their corruption and their evil. Listen to the queen's voice and go to the citadel. There you shall speak with my servant, Berenice. She will tell you what is to come next. A girl you will meet and you must instruct her in the ways of the prophets and the future king you must also instruct. You are no longer an Ainash priest but you are my prophet and when you get back to the city of Jhis you must denounce the priesthood and all those in the city, for I am sweeping many things away and they must pass through the fire before the king comes. Jhis is full of bloodshed and the innocent blood they have spilled cries out to me. There will be a cleansing for my temple is defiled and is an offense to me. Tell them to come back to the true path and stop my wrath. Come to the Mountain of God and I shall give you a sign and there I shall instruct you.

When Ilim awoke, he felt no pain. He felt much stronger than he'd felt before, even renewed. He was excited and afraid. He wished he could give Eliaz and Demos a message but there was no time. At dawn the next morning he immediately packed a sack, strapped on his old, rusted machete, put on his sturdiest sandals, wrote a letter of reference for Vai and left his last wages, a silver coin and a small block of salt in a bowl on the table. He found a small group of Raeanite tribesmen finishing their business in the city leaving for one of the western-most towns in Hybron. They were headed for Rhe.

"Why do you wish to travel with us?" Asked one of the older men. Ilim had very little money and not near enough to satisfy the cost of traveling with a caravan but he was on a spiritual mission now and trusted God would help him find a way. Still, being broke, he felt foolish. What else could he do but tell them the truth?

"I had a vision from God, my brothers." They studied him for a while and began to recognize him as the Ainash priest who lived among the Karig tribesmen some years ago. They warmed to him and became more respectful. The eldest of the group, Kesh'i tied the last of his goods to one of the pack camels and allowed Ilim to travel with them. Ilim was thankful he had found them in time.

"Where do you go, Ilim my brother?" Asked Kesh'i.

"I need to go as far west as I can. I shall go with you men to Rhe and then I shall move on farther west."

"How far?"

"To the Holy Mountain." At this the men were very surprised.

"The Holy Mountain? But that means you must cross. . ." One of the younger men said, stopping short. Ilim nodded gravely.

"But why? It is an accursed place. The ruins before you even get to the mountains are full of robbers lurking in the tombs."

"And worse!" Said another of the younger men. His name was Nasim.

"I know my brothers, but would you believe me if I told you I had a vision and it leads me there. There is something important I must see at the mountain and to get there I must cross the ruins." The others discussed this amongst themselves, then tried to persuade him from his journey but Ilim would not hear of it. Finally they left off dissuading him and told him that any man on a journey from God need not pay them anything but they wanted a blessing before he parted from them. They made their way through the city and after a few hours they arrived at and passed through the West Gate. Once outside the city, Kesh'i began to sing an old tribal song. As they made distance between their destination and the city the air smelled fresher. Ilim felt his spirit lifting. The heavy, oppressive smells and the scents and the decaying spirit of the city was like an invisible cloud that he'd barely noticed, now gone. The other men joined in the song. It was a tune Ilim recognized but did not know the words. A lullaby sung by tribal women to their babies but it was a very old song of the death of the Last Red King and the fall of Assenna.

"To speak of them is a curse among the people. Many will not even speak to such ones." Warned Ilim. He himself was hesitant to speak of them.

"We know, Ilim, but out here in the desert only the insects, snakes and the gods can hear. The animals do not speak our language and the gods do not care." He said wryly.

"Besides," said Nasim. "Ever since the fall of Assenna and the Red Kings we have been living in the dark times. There are many tales of wonderful things that we do not have names for that existed during that time."

"I have spent years living with the Karig and I have heard many such stories from them as well." Ilim did not approve of such tales. The fact was, no one really knew what happened. It gave opportunity for people to embellish and lie in the telling and the next thing one knew it was all of a sudden, history. The Ainash hated even the words "Red Kings" and it was considered an offense to even speak of them. Most people saw it as a curse upon them and their families to speak of the Red Kings. So, no one spoke of them or of the Veiled Age, as it was now called. In that, at least, Ilim agreed with the Ainash.

The Veiled Age.

The time in history that was lost. No priests or teachers spoke of it unless it was to say that it was a time of great evil and darkness in Hybron which even spread to other kingdoms. But tribal people saw it differently. Most city people assumed that they had odd, superstitious notions. It never occurred to them that the tribal people had knowledge others did not, which amused tribes people to no end.

What everyone agreed on was that a great destruction rained down on Assenna, the ancient capital and the fires from that terrible time burn down even to this day. They destroyed the city and all the towns and villages surrounding it. These fires stopped just outside of the walls of Jhis, the next largest city in the land. The eternal fires, which were no longer seen as holy, were still fear inspiring in a terrible way. Many saw it as the gate to the realm of dark gods. Or at least that is what heathens believed, as Ilim saw it. Whatever the mysticism that surrounded it, the eternal fires was a huge plateau used as a garbage heap. Everything that needed to be destroyed was thrown there and vultures circled above the fires ceaselessly.

The fires were northeast of them in the distance as they approached. Three black-clothed figures stood away some paces from the city's northern wall on a wide built ledge of stone. They were carrying staffs and pitchforks, tending the fires outside the city. One of the lowest vocations in the land, dealing with the dead. Other men were throwing refuse over the wall which collapsed into a pile. A body was heaved over the wall.

"We must pass by the fires for some time before we can make toward Rhe. A foul place!" Said Kesh'i. As they passed, Ilim could feel the heat pushing against his skin in waves. He rolled up his sleeves and wiped the sweat away from his forehead and neck.

"Please! Wait for me, my brothers. I must see something." The others consented. He rode his camel toward the wall. A morbid thought came to him.

"You men!" He called to the men in black. One of them looked up.

"Greetings! What is it you want from us?"

"The body thrown over the wall. I need to see it." Ilim had a sense of dread in his belly but he had to see the face. The man shrugged and helped Ilim up the ledge. Ilim went down the ledge toward the body. The other tenderers parted and allowed him to examine it. It had not yet been thrown in the fires but was among a heap of other bodies and trash waiting to be thrown in. It was the body of the young man executed days earlier by the priesthood. They could not even give him, one of their own people, a decent burial. Ilim was enraged. So enraged he began to shake. His eyes looked upward to the sky as if to shout at God. Only the bodies of criminals of the worst sort were thrown into the fires outside the city. But he knew better. If the Ainash decided one was a criminal, no one could answer back.

"Do you know the man?" Asked one of the tenderers. Ilim was silent for a long time as he stared at the mangled and bloodied body. Then he opened his mouth to speak.

"He was innocent of any crime."

"So why is his body here?"

"Because Jhis is a black pit full of wicked men." The man blinked at him as if he did not understand. The first tenderer, a much older man approached.

"What is the matter." It was more a statement than a question.

"This man says the body of this one should not be here, that he was innocent."

"The bodies of innocent men are not thrown here." Said the third man. The first one gave him a wry look then turned to Ilim. His skin was deeply creased, leathery and colored burnt bronze from his long years at his station. He had a symbol branded into his forehead. The flame. These fires were not a mere vocation but his lifelong devotion. Ilim felt this man was a brother-priest in spirit if not in actual religion.

"I know of what you speak. I'd heard of the whole controversy. But there is nothing we can do, less we be executed and thrown into the fires ourselves."

"I know. I am not blaming you." Ilim said despondently. He turned and walked down the ledge. The first man hailed him.

"My friend," he called, "perhaps there is one thing we may do to ease matters. You men of the Golden Temple, you bury your dead whole in the ground, do you not? I will dig a grave for this one and bury him. I will not allow his body to pass through the dark fires."

"You will not be punished for it? You do not have to do this." Said Ilim. The man shook his head.

"I am the guardian of the first gate of the fires. That much I can do for him and for the honor of his family. Whether men do evil or good in life, it will all be sorted out before the Lord of Heaven in the end." Ilim turned and faced him. He did not know if this man was once part of the Aishanna-La or just knew something of his religion. He thought on it. He was going to the Holy Mountain, based on a voice in a vision and he knew in his bones it was divine. And like Nagilla the sage, he might meet friends in strange places. Like this man. Ilim nodded and bowed to the man.

"You are right. I thank you. Ellah Kaifah."

"Ellah Kaifah." Said the man and he turned and called for the shovels.

**Chapter Five**

Anet fumbled and dropped her knife. If Instructress Helga saw her bumbling like this she would have put her on floor- scrubbing duty. Getting down from the stool to reach for it, she bumped the basket of beets she had been peeling, hands red as blood from the raw beet juice. Beets rolled all over the floor.

"Aich!" She yelled in frustration.

"What is the matter?" Asked Kaisha.

"Nothing!" Anet snapped. Kaisha laughed.

"You just hate chores, don't you? You're lazier than I am, Anet! If Instructress Helga sees this you'll be on kitchen duty all week!" Kaisha dried the last dish and set it on top of the other washed and dried dishes. They were visiting the city, Yallas-by-the-Sea on a healing mission. The Scions of the Desert Mothers, as they were called these days, or Desert Sisters, were well known for their healing abilities. The more experienced women were even more skilled at healing than the physicians and were often called upon when deadly diseases took hold in a place or when hard childbirths might cause death. Often, one large party would leave the citadel and once they reached their destination they broke up into two parties, one visiting from house to house in the neighborhoods and the other staying in the town or village square, healing those that came to them.

Yallas-by-the-Sea was once part of Hybron before the Veiled Age but was annexed by the king of Zapulia, King Temuz.

The mission gave her a chance to escape the drudgery of endless chores she was forced to do at the citadel. Or so she'd thought. Back home there was sweeping, weaving baskets, fixing looms, repairing bricks (the worst) peeling and preserving vegetables and fruit, tending chickens and goats or laundry. That was besides the history studies and the reading of the holy book. Then there was attending Instructress Matha and her apprentice, Sorrell, when she needed to create tinctures, salves and other medicines. Sometimes she was sent out with Sorrell to find plants, roots and other things for these herbal potions and she liked that. Instructress Matha, the expert herbalist of the citadel, also wrote down the ingredients and the recipes for making them into medicines, which were legion. She also drew botanical illustrations of all the plants and herbs they used and these were made into books and stored in the library. Anet found these drawings fascinating.

Unfortunately, even in a new and wonderful city with so much to experience, Mother Berenice had found chores for them to do.

They were at the home of a man named Ladin and his wife, whose daughter was having a difficult birth. Her own husband, a sailor, was out at sea and so she was staying with her family until his return. She had been in labor for many hours by the time the Scions had arrived and her father had run to see them, pleading with them to help his daughter. This would be her first child. When Anet heard the woman's piercing screams upstairs she grew quiet. She was glad she had not started bleeding. It seemed that once that happened, a girl was rushed off to be married. Anet did not want to be a married woman. Having a baby seemed wonderful but also frightening and some women died from the birth itself or childbed fever if they did not have a scion as a midwife.

While the midwives were attending her, Kaisha and Anet were helping the household with the cooking. They had prepared many meals already and put them away for the family's later use, washed clothing and bedding, swept the house clean and even administered medicines to other families in the neighborhood that week who needed them. After all, as Mother Berenice often reasoned, a woman had little time for housework and chores after a babe was newly born and some fell into a black mood. It was imperative that she get help during this time. And for the black moods, Mother Berenice prescribed meat fat and generous quantities of fresh butter, if the family could get it.

"Does this mean we would be here forever, doing this woman's work for her?" Anet had complained earlier that morning. Mother Berenice chided her.

"If and when you become a wife and mother you will understand, my little Anetji. All servants of God live to be in service to others and women, most of all." As far as Anet was concerned, she would never be a wife and mother. The blood and screaming at childbirth, the chores! No!

Footsteps fled downstairs and into the kitchen. A steaming pot of water was sitting in front of the hearth. Instructress Zipporah heaved it up and pushed through the door and back upstairs. Kaisha and Anet remained quiet as the screams descended into moans from the laboring woman upstairs. Zipporah had come down hours earlier to fetch her sewing needles – huge frightening looking things – while the other midwives prepared long strings of hardened tripe. "To sew up bad wounds!" She'd told Anet once. Anet shivered at the thought and now worked to keep busy to take her mind off of the childbirth. She filled pots with sliced beets, salt, garlic and whey from an ewer and filled them with water and sealed them. Kaisha fried potatoes with vegetables and fat and then began slicing up the eels. Anet rinsed the soaked beans, pouring the water in a large tub for the family bath the next day and poured the beans in a new pot, boiled them in the bone broth with herbs and salt. Their hands were busy with work, their minds were still on whether they would hear of triumph or death upstairs. She sorely hoped nothing bad would happen. As they set the table and prepared the evening meal they heard the long awaited cry of a newborn baby. The mother and the woman's sisters were upstairs while the little ones and the rest of the family were downstairs. Finally, Mother Berenice came down, her apron was bloodied but she had a big smile on her face.

"A healthy boy is born to the family." The family rejoiced. Both Anet and Kaisha hugged each other in great relief.

"But how is she? My daughter? Will she. . ." Asked the mother. Mother Berenice took her aside. Anet, always curious, followed them, careful to stay hidden under the staircase.

"She will survive as long as you keep everything around her and the baby well cleaned. There are wounds and tearing around her birth opening. Her wounds are serious and will take a long time to heal. Much healing salve must be applied to the wounds three times a day and keep giving her the lady's mantle tea and the salve on the wounds. You must do this for the next two months."

"Of course you must join us for evening meal, Mother! All of you!" Called the father. This was Anet's favorite part of traveling, sharing meals with new people. Everywhere the scions went people paid them either in livestock, expensive goods, copper, gold or silver or if they were poor, with sharing a meal. This family had already given them a tiny bottle of myrrh. However, payment was never required and the scions only took enough to cover traveling expenses and necessities. The rest was given as an offering at the citadel or to help poor townspeople or the people of the land when they reached Gamina. They never passed up an opportunity to share a meal.

After sending up a meal for the young mother and her sisters the rest of the family sat down to eat. This was Anet's first time having fried eel. It smelled good. People here ate seafood nearly every day. Jhis and Gamina were landlocked and creatures of the sea were very expensive, making any seafood a delicacy. Mother Berenice said a prayer to Airend-Ur and they sat down to eat. Anet looked around the room. The rough wooden columns were carved with little symbols the fish goddess and her attendants. An altar to her sat in the far end of the dining hall with tiny stone bowls of water, bones and candles and a small wooden image of the goddess with her long fish tail sat above, held upon a stand. Many gods were worshiped in Zapulia and Hybron. Yallas-by-the-Sea was a rich medley of many cultures from both lands. People worshiped lions, the sea, the moon, the sun, horses, mountains and many more things she could not count. Some of these gods were frightening and made her glad hers only seemed to required study, prayer and chores. She also noted that when they had just arrived in the city there was a strange celebration being held. An effigy of the king of Hybron was being burned and people were shouting insults and curses at it, saying: "Khalit the usurper who eats the flesh of men!" And they laid it upon an altar and burned it to a god she did not know.

But there were so many wonderful things to see at the markets and the docks, especially the great ships docked at the ports. There were rows and rows of ships as far as the eye could see, some with rows of oars, others with no oarsmen and many carried exotic things and exotic people. Like the Valierite sailors' glittering swords, axes and the ivory, whalebone, luxurious animal furs and amber. They were very pale people from the Great Ridge Lands. Some even with hair like fire! And there were the black-skinned peoples of the South Lands with their fine gold, precious gems of all sorts, tin, ivory and flax. There were the great fat ships with golden bows with some great god or goddess at its head, ships always laden with precious things like gold and silver, hundreds of spices, salt and cloth of silk, wool or cotton and exotic animals out of stories. Then there was the bounty of food. Yallas-by-the-Sea was a wealthy city, more interesting than even the prosperous Yallas-of-the-Valley. Even with all the jumble of sights and sounds new and exotic, Alhar, the dominant tongue in Hybron, was the universal tongue in many lands; the language of commerce, as Mother Berenice had put it. A great stone image of Dana stood before the port, the massive lighthouse and identifying mark of the city, her arm outstretched, holding an oil lamp and at night that lamp was lit with fires. One night when it was foggy Instructress Zipporah took her and the other young ones to see it. It was a mystical sight to Anet.

She poured herself a bit of white wine in her water cup. The wines in Yallas were often sweet and white. She liked any fermented drink, when she was allowed to have it, but wine was most delicious and it was not often that she had it.

"We do not normally eat so lavishly but it is a blessing to have you all with us." Said Ladin in his slightly accented Alhar.

"Where will you go next? Whom will you visit? We have an old friend who has such terrible aches in his back, he could surely use one of your ointments."

"Old Enkil? Still around, is he?" Chuckled Maia.

"Indeed. He holds on to life like a barnacle on a ship!" He said, laughing.

"We will be sure to visit him in the morning before we leave. There is another party of scions elsewhere in the city. I wonder if they have gotten around to this quarter?" Said Mother Berenice.

"No. Instructress Iddina and her party have stayed in the city square." Said Maia.

"Ah! In any case, we thank you for the work you do."

"It is no work for us." Said Mother Berenice.

"How long will you be in the city?" Asked Behth, the wife.

"Only six more days but I am sure we will be back within the year."

"We will be glad of you, Mother Berenice." Mother Berenice waved her hand and shook her head.

"Only Berenice, thank you." She said. Suddenly, there was a frantic knocking at the door. The man got up to answer it. There was a boy standing there breathing heavily.

"Yes?"

"I have a message for the Desert Sisters!" Mother Berenice rose from the table.

"What is it, son?"

"A caravan that just arrived in the city! The merchants say that the Hatchet Men are waiting to kill you when you leave the city! They say do not go that way! There is an ambush that way!" Anet felt fear rising in the room. The Ainash somehow found out! Always, the Ainash were seeking to stamp them out.

"What will we do? How do we get out of the city?" Cried Kaisha.

"Shh! A way will be provided. No need to panic, yet." Mother Berenice said but her expression was grave.

"You must go by ship." Said Ladin. "It is too late tonight but on the morrow, I will go to the docks and ask about a ship for you."

"Thank you. That is kind of you."

"But you have to hurry! Some of them are headed toward the city. If they find you here. . ." Said the boy urgently.

"Here? In a foreign city? They would dare to make trouble so far from home?" Asked Instructress Zipporah.

"Do not under estimate the Ainash. They make trouble wherever they can. The Hatchet Men do their dirty work. They themselves are not here to be blamed for anything." Said Instructress Helga.

"Who are the Hatchet Men?" Asked the Behth..

"Good-for-nothing men that hang around the marketplaces in Jhis. Robbers and murderers put to use as strongmen and hired killers for the priesthood."

"From whom did you hear this from. . ." But the boy had disappeared down the street. The man got up and closed and locked the door.

"Mother, do you think our sisters in the square will be safe? If they are coming. . ?" Asked Helga. Berenice shook her head. The wife spoke up.

"Please! If you can find them, tell them to come here and stay. Things are becoming more dangerous these days and if those men are coming to search you out. . ." She shook her head. "No! All of you must come and stay here. It will be very crowded but please! You saved our daughter's life. It is the least we can do." Anet volunteered.

"I will go and bring them here! Mother?" She asked, giving Mother Berenice a questing look.

"Not by yourself and at this hour! It is evening, girl!" Said Helga.

"I can send one of my sons to go along with her." Said Ladin. "Ganem! Get up and gird yourself and go with mistress Anet to find the other party." Ganem, one of the youngest boys, got up immediately and put on his sandals and a tunic over his pants. Anet grabbed a wide scarf from Kaisha and wrapped it around her shoulders and hair. They both dashed from the house.

Ganem, no more than about eight years, was swift as a gazelle. She could barely keep up on his heels as they twisted through many narrow streets, passing by rows and rows of tiny, jumbled houses and under clotheslines and flew by wandering goats and dogs. They passed by one of the city wells. An old man was drawing water. When he saw Anet's gray robe and scarf, he bowed and smiled. Anet smiled back but did not have time to say anything, less she lose sight of Ganem.

"Come sister, we are almost there! To the eastern square!" Anet felt energized as they ran and leaped over raised gutters and paved streets. They passed by a fountain of the goddess Dana with her fishtailed babies swimming all around her fishtail and just as they passed the Fountain of Dana, there was the eastern square. Crowds were still gathered to be healed or to beg for some herbal remedy. The merchants were closing up shop for the day. The scions were very busy boiling water, washing scraps of cloth, chopping roots or grinding ingredients in mortars and pestle, administering medicines or talking with people about their various ailments. Anet was nearly winded when they'd reached the square.

"What do I say? I don't want to cause a panic." Whispered Anet, mostly to herself. Ganem shrugged.

"Do you mind helping us even more, Ganem?" Ganem's dark eyes lit up.

"I want to help!"

"Good! Follow me." Anet approached the square and Instructress Iddina saw her while administering ointment to a woman's eczematous arm.

"You must bathe it twice a day and put the salve upon it twice a day and drink the root tea four times a day for two weeks to cleanse yourself." Said Iddina. The woman nodded. She then turned to Anet.

"Anetji! What are you doing here so soon?"

"Instructress Iddina, I must speak with you. It's important." Anet looked around fearfully. Iddina seemed to understand they needed some privacy. Anet motioned for Ganem to follow her. Another sister took over Iddina's work and they wound through the knots of crowds. They finally came to the small pavilion where the scions slept.

"Ganem, stand guard right outside here." Anet said to the boy. Ganem obeyed. Iddina gave them both an amused look. They went inside. "What is it, Anet, Your Greatness?" She teased. Usually Anet enjoyed Iddina's mischievousness but this was serious.

"Hatchet Men. A messenger came to the house to warn us. They plan to ambush us after we leave the city." Iddina's expression soured.

"Ambush? But we travel with armed guards!"

"They are getting bolder and we do not travel with enough guards. It will get them killed too. Besides that, he said that they were making their way into the city to hunt us down."

" _Gudzhinza_!" Cursed Iddina in her mother tongue. Anet nearly jumped in surprise.

"What does that mean?"

"Forgive me. And never mind what it means." She said apologetically.

"The man in whose home we are staying says he will find a ship that can take us back."

"A ship? And how will he find a ship to carry twenty extra people?"

"I do not know."

"And besides, where will this ship take us? How far will we have to travel to get back to the citadel?" Iddina was wagging her head, her long, coily twists of hair shaking and quivering. She was of the ebony-skinned tribes of the South Lands, a Makebitess, and her tribe often traveled near the boundaries of the kingdom of Jura. Then she stopped and laughed.

"It may very well take me home and perhaps I will see my brothers again, but everyone else will be out of their way. Then there is the question of food on such a long and arduous journey back."

"Perhaps we should pray to Airend-Ur the Lord of the Deep and do what we always do, rely on the goodwill of the people we help. We are known far and wide." Said Anet. Iddina smiled.

"Well! You are wise, Anet. Here I am, a desert sister for some years and did not think to look to God first. You may become a Mother of the Citadel yet!" Anet beamed. It seemed a very good thing. But Mother Berenice did not go on missions very often. Because of her many duties she was tied to the fortress. Anet preferred to be one of the courier scions or an emissary. But sometimes they were killed. There were the guardian and warrior scions, who on rare occasion showed her how to use a bow and arrow or a dagger. Then she thought of the southern lands Iddina hailed from. She had never been there. Perhaps she would get her adventure after all.

They left the square when the moons were high in the sky and a small crowd of young and old men with lanterns and torches escorted the scions to the house, all proudly lead by little Ganem.

"I am concerned, Anet." Whispered Iddina.

"Why? We are safe now, Iddina."

"But the people here, the family. If the Hatchet Men are coming, they will come in cover of darkness. Even though the people are friendly to us, gold and silver can despoil the hearts of some. Perhaps someone in the city can be bought off to find those that are helping us."

"Oh." Anet had not thought of that and a knot began to grow in her belly at the thought.

"Do not worry over much, Iddina." Said an elderly sister who had been listening. "I am sure by the time they get here we will be long gone. Besides, I find that when we pray for those, especially those who show us kindness, God listens and acts on that request. Be not worried, my sister." She said warmly. This would be the last mission for Carisse. She, like Helga, was from the Great Ridge Lands, fair skinned and fair haired. Carisse had gentle brown eyes and hair white as clean cotton and fine as silk. She was being helped along by another young sister Anet's age, Nirka, and half-hobbling along on her elaborately carved cane given to her as a gift long ago. It came from the family of a wood-carver for healing their child of leprosy. The man risked punishment for making such a beautiful thing for someone not of high station. Such was the condition of Jhis, back when it was a city-state. A few things had changed since then. One being that it was dangerous for the scions to ever go back to Jhis. Their enemies, the Ainash remained a powerful influence there.

Once they'd reached the house the small crowd bade them good night and called for the gods to bless them. They all packed in, unfolding robes, tunics and blankets to sleep on. It was very crowded but Anet loved it. She was surrounded by sisters everywhere. She felt excited because they slept under different stars and safe because they were all together.

**Chapter Six**

A force was moving in Hybron. He could feel it like a slow burn in his bones and nerves. Normally it was just the pain of rheumy joints but lately it was something else. The controversies at the temple between Ilim and "the rest of them" had finally come to a head but other schemes were being hatched all around him. Eliaz was an old scribe, respected but no longer privy to the most important matters at the temple. Or rather, schemes. However, this did not mean that he did not hear things. He heard much and pretended otherwise. He'd heard it from Ilim before many other priests that the king was taking a new queen. This was distressing but what could one expect for a woman who could not bear children? Worse yet, the king was going down to Egi, of all places, to bring up this new woman. There was the old saying: "Out of Egi comes grain and grief!" _What good ever came from Egi?_ he thought in dismay. There would be extravagant pomp and celebration at her arrival according to Bakku. It would only be a matter of time before this was on the lips of everyone in the city and all around the land. He knew Bakku was behind this. He and the high priest's other minions were all up to something. He could feel it. After the execution of the Kushigyar they were no longer allowed to create any law concerning a tax or a tribute unless it was first approved by the king. A few taxes were even lifted from the peoples, specifically the birth tax and the tax of the guilds which enraged the priesthood. But the king had imposed a law: that any religious institution could only collect tithes for strictly religious reasons and they could not share in the monies for the taxes of government. Of course, as far as the priests were concerned, this would not do, but they could not openly defy the king. So plans hatched in secret meetings and in the middle of the night. The new temple tax, for instance, had arisen from these meetings.

Bakku had just left the city, the king following a few days later with a great retinue to fetch the new woman. Meanwhile, the priesthood was looking for ways to curry favor with this new queen and looked to Bakku for a way in.

"Bakku the snake!" He spat. He wished more and more these days for the village of his childhood, Uzimor, among the fragrant cedar and poplar forests of the southwest. Of olive groves in the village, even more ancient than he was. A simple, unsullied life. He sighed wistfully. Meanwhile, he had duties to perform besides writing letters, copying old books and keeping track of genealogies. Of the Aishanna-La that remained in Jhis, they needed care and attention. Many were poor. Some had some means, being craftsmen or merchants and some were wealthy. But the working poor were in a desperate plight and the holy days of First Festival were approaching.

There were also the rumors; growing undercurrents that looked to become an overwhelming tide among the people. It was the rumor of the rise of a new king. It was whispered and looked for but no one had truly seen any sign as far as he knew. Some claimed to have seen signs and wonders in the desert here and there, mostly overly excited folk or false seers. _False seers! May their eyes grow black and rot inside their heads!_ Even the heathens among them looked for this sign when they heard it but it was mostly batted about in the homes and the inns of the Aishanna-La. Eliaz himself hoped and looked, at times. It had been five ages since the Destruction. How he wanted to see the temple and the faith restored to righteousness and justice again but he was too old to spearhead any reclamation and most of his fellows in the temple looked on the prophecy with derision at best, with fear and hatred at the worst. Priests like him who looked forward to it did not speak of it often. When they did, it was in carefully constructed speech, in somber, solemn tones.

It was becoming very hot inside his cell. His robes, made of the finest scarlet silks and damasks were weighing him down. He sorely wished he could throw them off and get into the pools. Instead he sipped his lukewarm tea, fishing out the mint leaves and then cast his gaze outside. The holy week was a charity week. Many people would need meals and use of the healing pools. There were plenty of funds to care for that need – that had been diverted to other uses at Bakku's behest. There was also the new temple tax, which had been raised to the cry of dismay of the people. It was harder than ever to feed and minister to those who came to the temple on the festival days. He thought on the few families he tried to shepherd. And those that died in the temple riots years ago. He remembered Anet's parents, faithful worshipers at the temple. Anet's mother was one of the few women fierce enough to walk into the temple. She refused to wait outside in the courtyard, stating that it was her right to enter. On her third time entering she was dragged out, stripped and whipped. Her husband, one of the minor nobles of the city withdrew his financial support from the temple at this outrage. This did not go unnoticed. Months later their home was burned down in a mysterious fire. Eliaz remembered because he was visiting with them, unbeknownst to anyone else, administering to them spiritually in secret. He was in the guest room when it happened. They had only one child. Eliaz saved the baby but her parents burned to death. He took a female goat and a camel and traveled to the citadel in Gamina and handed the child to the women there. Riots ensued as the husband and wife were well known in the community who helped the poor and not just the poor of their own people. Many died in those riots. Those were ugly days and the city had not fully recovered from it. Peace in Jhis was only intermittent. People saw the ugliness of the Golden Temple laid bare. The priesthood fooled no one. It reminded them of the oppression of city-state days. He wondered how Anet was doing and he was glad that she was not being raised in Jhis.

He eventually called for his palanquin, got up and hobbled through the high halls and waited by the broad columns at the steps promenade. He felt engulfed by its loftiness, but where once he felt uplifted, now he felt swallowed up, like an ant. His bands were hurting. He wished he had been bold enough switch from these damnable gold ones to leather, like Ilim, who did not care to impress anyone. The metal dug into his skin. _I wear them for God._ he thought dryly. _I shall bear it._ He supposed he was just irritable and old. The smell of incense was strong, masking other, oppressive scents. Like the ever present scent of blood, both fresh and rancid, at the meat markets on the hottest days, and the smell of corpses. One could never escape that scent in Jhis.

In the center of the city sat the grand arena, where the battles fought were becoming more elaborate. Or horrific, in Eliaz's opinion. The blood lust of Hec could never be sated. But then it seemed the bloodlust of his own god could not be satisfied either, when one considered the priesthood. Ilim had disappeared from the city, which worried him greatly. They were usually able to secretly pass messages to each other but Ilim had been tossed out like refuse. Ilim was the best of them and never shrank from boldly proclaiming Holy Writ and exposing hypocrisy. He hoped his friend had not met an untimely end. Eliaz felt more despondent as all these troubling thoughts tormented him. Footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Two priests approached and bowed to him. He groaned inwardly. Courtesies had to be observed. Or endured.

"Ahaifa, brother." They smiled. He bowed to them.

"Peace to you from God, my brothers. How did it go today?"

"No doubt you have heard the news about the queen?" Asked one of them. His name was Rutaz. Eliaz nodded. They smiled as if conspiring with him, or, he thought, perhaps to test him. But maybe his old mind was just growing more suspicious.

"It will be good to have this new queen on our side. Bakku knows the family quite well, I hear."

"What can the Ainash accomplish through a woman?" Said Eliaz disapprovingly. The other two laughed glibly.

"Well, you are right to question such dealings but in this case we have no choice. For one thing, we may get her support in putting an end to the citadel problem. It is the end result that matters most."

"Ah. The desert women. They have managed to stay just beyond our grasp." Said Eliaz.

"The marriage will bring not only wealth and a new ally but more military might to the city." Said the other priest.

"And what makes Bakku think this new marriage will work for our benefit? I do not wish to see temples to Strabian gods implanted in Jhis." Said Eliaz, this time in earnest. His concern was growing. Egi was a dark place, Egium the very apex of evil, in his mind. He feared anything from Egium infecting Hybronian culture. Things were bad enough in the land as it was. He viewed Anet as his own great-granddaughter and wished to see no harm come to the women but he crowed and pretended to conspire anyway. The second priest chided him.

"Always the skeptic, Eliaz! She, like all women, is under authority. Until she marries the king she is under her father, whom Bakku has befriended."

"You are speaking right, Ganu." Said Eliaz. "Bakku has always been clever and has always made useful connections. But soon her family will go back to Egi and whether she will have any sway with the king is anyone's guess. We all know the king is hot-blooded. He is a proud sun-worshiper and he is capricious. Then there is the problem if Ilim." He watched them as he said the name. Rutaz made a warding motion with his hands, the other did not seem put off by the name. Eliaz continued.

"He likes Ilim because Ilim was his instructor as a child. It does not follow that he will be concerned with our causes. In fact, many times it has been the opposite with this king." Eliaz warned.

"Causes?" One of the priests looked at him, puzzled.

"Well, there is the matter of the taxes. . ." Said Eliaz slyly.

"Ah, well. According to Lord Tybble-Awat, that will require a careful approach. We do not yet know how that cause can be championed. But as he says, a way will be found."

"Hmm." Said Eliaz, stroking his long beard.

"It is all in how he is approached. And when. Besides that, there is the matter of the former queen. There have been rumors for quite some time that she still has close ties to the citadel." Said Ganu.

"Ah, but where is the evidence? I hear many rumors but no one has produced so much as a letter proving she still communicates with them. If only we had some proof." Said Eliaz.

"True. Solid proof would help but I think that there is enough indirect evidence that she serves their interests. No doubt she has had some influence on the king, which is why the citadel still stands." Said Rutaz. "One could even say she has secretly trod the rope of treason. But of course, these things all require careful work." Eliaz did not want to hear the rest of this conversation and did not like this evil talk of treason.

"Well my brothers, you are speaking right. But my ancient mind is too feeble for these complex things. I must get to my books. Let me know when the citadel comes crashing down and I shall record it in the current Book of Histories." They laughed at this. Then they gave him blessings, bowed and said goodbye just as his palanquin arrived.

By now Eliaz had discerned a pattern in the Holy Writings, even if the rest did not. God often shown His favor upon those doing His will and throughout written history Eliaz had come to know that this favor was not shown to the Ainash. He could recall, after the destruction of Assenna and the Scattering, a few desert mothers had escaped slaughter, privation and the diseases that come with chaos. With a few faithful Aishanna-La, they took hold of a long abandoned citadel in Gamina and managed to fortify it against attack again and again, though there were no trained warriors among them. Four times in history the Ainash had tried to slaughter them, to raze the citadel and its town to the ground and all four times they had failed. The last time they'd laid siege to it was fifty years ago. Yet, does not the citadel still stand?

**Chapter Seven**

When the four travelers had reached Rhe, they reluctantly parted with Ilim. He did not have the coin to buy the camel but he did have enough to purchase an old mule in the town.

"When you come back from your journey, if you come back, do not hesitate to ask the townspeople for me." Said Kesh'i. It turned out that he was not only one of the most respected shaikhs among his tribal brethren but a man of great repute in the town as well. Ilim was given a special cloth of blue and gold with the image of the teraphim of the Raea tribe.

"This will keep you if local tribesmen see you on your way. They will not molest you if they see this." Ilim bowed, grateful to them.

"To get to the mountain you must go through the ruins. That is the shortest way, though it is frightening to think about." Said one of the men.

"Truly, you men have been sent by God. This is a good sign. May there be peace within you." Said Ilim. They embraced him and gave him dried raisin cakes, dates, hard bread and a skin of water. Ilim set off farther west.

In truth, there were three mountains where he was going, but the Mountain of God was the largest and still active, though it did not rumble but every thousand years, from what anyone knew. Most people who went there never came back. Ilim trembled at the thought. One, an ancient wise man revered among many had gone and come back. His whole body was filled with rays of light. Nagilla, the One who spoke with God's voice, he was called. How could I even dare to fill his footsteps? Ilim wondered, yet he was compelled. As the days bled away, the land grew rocky and the sand dunes shallow, until they altogether disappeared. On rare occasions he saw travelers in the far distance but no one crossed his path or harassed him. When he'd passed by the ruins of the Mountain Citadel he said a silent prayer.

"Curse those that rebelled against all that was holy!" The Mountain Citadel was seen as a haunted place of demons. No one dared to go there. Some years ago a group of priests and scribes with an army of carpenters and mason workers tried to rebuild it but the rebuilding work mysteriously stopped and these men had all vanished. Ilim recalled one of the more ridiculous legends that sprang up from that historical fact; that they'd turned up as shades that haunted the desert around the ruins. Once, he had to administer a few good beatings to some young scribes-in-training who were behind the temple relating the story. Stories like that only served one purpose in Ilim's mind; to give credit to dark forces. Those men, according to history, had been warned not to rebuild it but they did not listen, thinking their mission a holy command from God. It was an accursed place, an affront to God and a reminder of the great apostasy of his brethren near the end of the Veiled Age and most likely they were destroyed by His hand for their disobedience.

"Never shall it be rebuilt but sown down, a place where the jackals cackle and dragons find their dens. No kingdom shall be raised up in it again, for I am Airend-Ur and that is my word." Ilim recalled the passage, a prophecy concerning the Mountain Citadel.

He traveled early in the morning, broke for rest in the heat of the day and then continued in the evening until it was too dark to travel. The land was becoming patchy, with poor grasses and cactus here and there. There were shallow sinks, some plain and smooth and others littered with bones. He gathered a few cactus stems, hacking and cutting off the spines with his machete and fed one to the mule. Ilim had emptied his waterskin after traveling for three days, five days in total and he had finally come to a small spring. Both he and the mule drank their fill and Ilim refilled his skin. The landscape grew sharper and steeper as they began to climb. He could see the mountains drawing closer and the sun a white flame in the pale, red sky. He tore a strip of cactus leaf, peeled it and chewed it. The juice refreshed him. He stopped and listened, straining to hear anything. Only a slight, hot breeze and the occasional skitter of an insect or sand lizard. The city of Galieh was northeast of this place but that would be too far out of the way. He was approaching the ruins. Again, he said a silent prayer and then spurred the mule on. Evening was coming on and he thought of going the long way around just as the tribesmen's words rose in his memory. He might encounter robbers here or the other way, or worse! It was too late to turn back. He continued on as the light faded, thinking of what to do. He would go around the ruins first, but how long would it take? It was already going to be a long and difficult journey. After a few hours of traveling and stewing in his thoughts he finally found and settled in a small cave, tethering his mule and wrapping himself in a blanket. He was glad he would not have to sleep under the sand dunes. He went to sleep and dreamed again.

This time he dreamed he walked the streets of Assenna. Except it was not in ruins. It was the image of glory and beauty that he'd only heard about and read in scrolls and books. He walked about as if in a haze of fog and mist. The streets were paved with mosaics, gleaming fountains, temples of perfection with towers that floated toward the sky, some with domes of ivory, gold or bronze, some made of polished red rock, black stone and every precious stone. There were temples, gardens of rare flowers, groves of olive trees and paved streets lined with graceful date palms and obelisks that told of the grandeur of the Red Kings. Lifted above these glorious things was the palace, sitting within its hanging gardens in gleaming white stone, its lofty towers and spires seemingly reaching for the sun. Had he ascended to heaven itself? He looked again and the palace sat behind a glittering green lake and an arched walkway stretched from its gate to the doors which were inlaid with pure gold. Ilim picked fruit from the trees in the gardens: oranges, pomegranates, lemons and plums. Every tree with fruit he picked from and ate his fill. He drank from the fountain before him and the water was sweet and cold as ice. He was refreshed yet it made him feel as if he had drank sparkling star wine. He felt joy as he heard the beautiful songs of the pyrrhus. A tiny hummingbird appeared near him, flitting its way to and fro as if to say: "follow me."

Then he noticed that the city was filled with people - joyful, happy people but they did not see or hear him. Nor could he touch or talk to them. He reached a hand out to touch a cart standing by the fountain and his hand went through it as if it were mere mist. Yet the hummingbird seemed vividly real. He could hear the soft beating of its tiny wings. It flew toward the palace gate and Ilim followed it across the paved walkway and steps. He looked into the water and he could see the constellations of stars in the lake. They sat like crystals set in a mirror. He crept up to the doors and they opened before he could touch them. Before him stood nothing but thick cloud and mists. The little bird had disappeared. Ilim walked through the doors and soon found himself engulfed in light and cloud. When these subsided, he was at the foot of the Holy Mountain. And then he woke up.

And now he was not dreaming but here he was, at the mountain. He looked around in amazement. The city and the palace were gone. There was nothing but desert and the mountain before him. He could hear what sounded like distant thunders and mists rolling down from its summit. Ilim became afraid. Then he heard a voice.

Ilim. I have called you to become my prophet. The time has come to prepare the way, to raise up the throne of the Red Kings of old times and to bring back the Old Ways among my people.

"Why me? I cannot bring back the old ways."

I shall bring them back. I have chosen you for your boldness of heart and tongue. You do not shrink back from telling the truth nor have you sullied your hands with corruption. Three things I will do. Warn the people of the coming of the way, purify the temple and the priesthood and protect the heir to the throne. You, I am choosing to bring my denunciations to the people of Hybron to turn back from the way they have gone and it is you that I have chosen to guide the boy.

"Lord, was not Khalit an heir to the throne? Is he not king already?"

Khalit is not the heir that was foretold. It is his son who is the heir. As for Khalit, he has turned aside from the way. Do you consent to go, Ilim?

"I shall go. But where from here?"

I am sending you first to the citadel in Gamina. Seek out the Temple Mother, Berenice. A child is traveling with her, a girl named Anet. This girl you must instruct for there is a purpose for her. Teach her the ways of the desert and the ways of judging for I shall raise up judges; prophets and prophetesses out of the desert once again into the world. You are the first. Go and I shall lead you by the way to the citadel. From there you will go back to Jhis and station yourself between the temple and the palace and you must speak denunciations against the priests who have profaned my temple and abused my people. I am giving you this: that the Red King is coming and he is sweeping away the corruption of the Ainash, the savagery of the land and all those who oppose justice.

"But are not these women disobedient to you? Why must I meet with these women?"

If I say a thing will be done it will be done. They are my servants as you are my servant. You know the Writings. Where do you read otherwise? You show me, as you know them well. Ilim could not remember reading any such thing.

Where do you see that I approve of the Ainash and their new laws? I do not approve. If I have made a woman a prophet it is not for the sons of men to contradict me. The Ainash have taught you wrong in this. I have raised up prophets and judges, men and woman from long ago and I shall do it again and will you question me?

"No, my lord!" Ilim fell to his face in fear.

Get up, Ilim! You must be cleansed before you begin the work. Go into your cave and there you will find water to cleanse yourself. After this all who have minds to see will know that you have been washed from the former things and that you are my holy prophet. The holy words are upon your skin. Go, cleanse yourself and when you are done, go your way to the citadel. The ass you have brought will be guided there. When you get to Jhis I will set a sign by you so that everyone seeing will know you are my prophet.

Slowly he rose and shielded his eyes from the light and heat. His sandals under him felt as if they were melting off his soles. Ilim's eyes were blinded, the light was so bright. His feet burned as if the skin were being seared into the ground and then he felt darkness envelope him, a soft coolness and he fell asleep. When he woke again, he was in his cave. He looked upon his skin under his clothes and found his body painted in the white flowing script in Old Alhar, passages of the holy book. Deeper in the cave there was a steaming lake. He had not noticed it the day before. He got up and bathed himself until there were no painted letters left. He felt his skin sting and then it cooled, as if the letters were some healing balm upon his skin. It was early morning and the sun was beginning its trek across the sky but it had not yet crowned the horizon. Ilim drank his water until he was sated. He now had a new purpose. He had been commanded to go to the citadel to meet with the Scions of the Desert Mothers. He marveled at the quickness his life had changed. For years he, like all Ainash scribes and priests had been taught they were witches, whores, the very evil of evil! Women who pretended to powers of the supernatural. He never truly believed these women were wicked like many of his fellows, but merely misguided. Could he have been wrong all these years? A hawk dipped from the sky with a fresh piece of meat in its beak. It dropped it on a rock in front of the cave, called out to him three times with a wailing cry and cocked its head at him and then flew off. Ilim laughed, feeling nearly delirious. Was it not all a fevered dream? he thought.

"Along the way He shall lead me, through darkness and haunts of the red rams and on desert plains he will feed me, toward paths of righteousness. . ." He ate the raw meat, wishing he had at least a bit of salt. He got up and fastened his packs to the mule and got on his way, letting the mule lead him on the long journey to Gamina.

**Chapter Eight**

The royal proclamation was given throughout the land that the king was setting aside Queen Diti and that he sought a new woman as queen in the land, for she had not given him any sons.

**-** _The Third Book of the Kings 17:32,_ **Translations of The Holy Aishanna.**

The last of Diti's possessions were being packed away and moved. Nearly everyone from her household had been taken away except for Zigal who came with her from Gamina, and a few from her personal guard. When the king had finally come in to tell her what she already knew she was serene and supremely composed and bowed to him, to his seeming relief. But what had he expected from her? She had always given him the utmost respect and never acted out of turn or in any disgraceful manner. She'd bowed to his whims graciously and with courtesy, mainly in order to help carry out the Divine Purpose.

Ten years they had been married, three of them very pleasurable, the rest saw her settling into her true reason for leaving the citadel, keeping an eye on the Ainash and their intrigues and reporting back to the citadel. Khalit satisfied himself with corralling every pretty and willing girl in his sight into his harem. It pained her at times that she did not bear children for him. Other times she was relieved. They would most likely be worshipers of the sun, especially if they were boys. Hec and his fiery consorts demanded death and blood through the games or death through war. Glory was everything and woe betide the able-bodied man who died from accident or illness. He brought dishonor to himself and his family. But could a man help it if he fell sick? No, she was content that she obeyed the needs of the Divine Purpose.

Fricka, sensing that something was wrong for many days now stayed very close to Diti, sometimes getting underfoot when servants came near to move furniture. She gave Diti at least some comfort. She was tired of the intriguing around her and told herself that this was an improvement. Norda, an older woman from the territories of the far north, was her only friend at court. Norda had died a few years ago from a fever while she and the king were away in Egi. Something the scions could have easily treated. She pulled on an elaborately embroidered shawl with the long, silken thread fringe Norda had given her as a gift. Dark and light blue with silver thread, rare colors and precious in this part of the world, it had the emblems of the woman's clan, wild boars. It was even more precious to her than the many jewels Khalit had given her. She wrapped it around her shoulders. At least when she walked to the House of Mourning she would give them all one last sign that she had been queen of this place. None of the concubines were permitted to wear blue. Only a queen. Cradling Fricka in her arms she held her head erect and swept from the room with Zigal behind her. The House of Mourning was north of the palace, proper, with its own separate gardens. The king's servants conducted her through the long, paneled halls and over familiar polished stone walkways. She was forced to pass by the rooms of the new favorites. They and their attendants would be watching the procession and whispering behind golden-latticed windows. Salayma was now foremost among the new favorites from what Zigal had told her. As soon as they turned the corner the brash rival who always tried to contend with her, Salayma, confronted her. Salayma was now very pregnant and had made sure everyone in the palace knew that she was carrying a son. Salayma's retinue was now larger than her own and she'd come to gloat over Diti's misfortune.

"There is nothing more pitiable than an old woman being put away like a useless mare. It is no wonder he did not do it years ago, Most Precious One." She held her swollen belly and grinned. "See where he has been and weep old woman. If it were left up to me, you would not be allowed to stay in the palace at all." Diti sighed. Salayma was never one for much subtlety or sense.

"Perhaps it has escaped your notice Salayma, but the king has already chosen his new bride, who I hear, is of high birth."

"He put you away and you are a noblewoman." She sneered. "So why not her? Besides, there are ways to prevent a woman from giving birth." She grinned proudly. And it was true. Diti had known the taste of certain bitter herbs in her tea, her wine, her food and she was not fooled. She learned to avoid this most of the time by having her foods prepared right before her eyes and having her food tasted before she ate. Diti lifted a brow in disdain at the concubine. This one was a mere tool. It was too bad Salayma did not realize that she and her puppet-masters had wasted their time. Besides, the puppet-masters had found golden pastures in Egi. She fixed the concubine with a withering look.

"Good day Salayma and I do hope it is a son you are carrying. For your sake." Salayma's laughter was loud and derisive as Diti motioned for her retinue to continue on. Salayma's servants did not move.

"Step aside!" Diti commanded sharply. Her voice sliced through the air like a sword. They all snapped to attention at this and looked at each other apprehensively. Even Uwain, the head of her personal guard was surprised at the harsh edge of authority in her voice. Finally, they obeyed. Diti turned to Salayma. Salayma's face turned bright red in anger.

"Until Her Greatness arrives in all the pomp and circumstance due a queenly bride, there are no queens here in the palace. You forget yourself, concubine." Zigal glared at Salayma, offended at her open disrespect.

"Do not trouble yourself over her, Zigal. She is a fool. A fool should be pitied."

"Yes, Your Greatness." Zigal murmured. Salayma would need it, for if it had turned out that she was not carrying a son after all her boasting and demands, the king would likely have her thrown in the furnace. For all Khalit's generosity, he hated being tricked or lied to and he punished people savagely for it. Yet, tricksters abounded in his court.

And she the biggest one of all.

**Chapter Nine**

Anet sat upon a rock taking in the salty sea air, watching the waves of commotion and activity at the docks. They were waiting for a ship to take them out of the city. Their plan to wait at the house for a ship that could carry them all did not work. The next ship with enough room to carry all of them that wasn't headed far north by the western route or even farther east was captained by a Zapulian named Erdeth and he was headed to the city of Murka in Jura. Erdeth's ship was leaving today and after that there would not be another ship with room available to take them for another two weeks. Mother Berenice and the elder sisters were haggling over the price with the captain while the rest waited. Anet saw the famed great-horned, armored beasts that she'd only read about in legends and the Holy Writings and heard about in fantastic accounts from travelers to the citadel. She'd seen elephanta, or _yebu_ as Sister Iddina said they were called in her homeland and was always fascinated by them but these beasts looked like giant lizards with plated armor and long, tusk-like horns, like elephanta, but the tusks were growing from their heads. They were squat, half as big as the majestic elephanta of the south, bigger than even the great _aurochs_ she had seen a year ago in Yallas-of-the-Valley, their wide eyes wild and rolling in their heads. Anet wondered if this is what men meant when they spoke of dragons. Still, impressive as they were, they did not seem big enough to be dragons. They were sedated and chained and were being led off a great ship with golden sails. She would be sad to leave Yallas-by-the-Sea.

"Anet come! We are ready to leave now." Called Iddina. They had to wait until all goods were loaded. The ship was transporting linens, wool, cotton and silk, besides that there were other travelers and their own goods and then the scions and all their goods. Mother Berenice and Iddina and Helga haggled and ended up paying the captain most of their remaining coppers - quite a lot - and none of the three happy about it, but passage to Murka was bought and from there they would seek a caravan traveling to Hybron. They boarded the wide plank. The water below looked murky and dark from Anet's vantage, like one of Matha's mysterious-looking, churning ointment pots on the fire. She wondered excitedly whether they would encounter any sea monsters. After a few hours of getting everything on board, they finally embarked on the Gaspa Sea. It was the Sea of Llordis where famed sea monsters lurked, some that required tribute before passing, or so she'd heard. She heard the lizard beasts at the port roar and moan, the whips driving them on. She felt imaginary whips driving them all toward some destination she could not discern. Anet dreamed often and sometimes those dreams came true but she had not dreamed this and wondered what it all meant.

The weather was clear and bright and the winds seemed fair. She gazed at the colorful pavilions, rooftops and brilliant orange, scarlet and yellow pennants that fluttered in the breeze, gradually growing smaller as they sailed farther out.

"Will we have enough food, I wonder?" Asked Kaisha worriedly. Kaisha was always worried about the morning, noon and evening meals. And sweets, if she could get them behind Instructress Helga's back.

"No. We'll have to tighten our tunics until we disappear Kaisha!" Teased Anet.

"That's not funny, Anet! We could starve out there on the open sea and I've never been on a boat before!" Complained Kaisha.

"Well it won't matter when the great dragon of the sea demands tribute. He'll rear up his ugly head, ask us what we will give him to allow passage, we will say we have nothing left and he will swallow us all whole, so stop worrying."

"Anet!" Kaisha wailed.

"Anet, where did you get such foolish ideas from?" Scolded Instructress Helga.

"Sorry, Instructress Helga. I was just teasing." Anet said. She would never tell on Iddina.

"Teasing is not a trait of a devout young woman!" Anet lowered her head and remained quiet. But there was a tiny niggling thought that it might be true. Not including the twenty scions or the ship's crew there were sixty-five people in all on board. A generous meal for any hungry dragon!

The first few hours the weather was clement and the winds cooperative. Anet, not wanting to be stuck below deck was allowed on deck to watch as they sailed the silver-blue waters. The dip and weave and sway of the ship exhilarated her. She felt free, though confined to the ship. She walked from one end of the deck to the other end, the crew respectfully distant, some tipping their caps or turbans or touching their beards to her as a sign of respect. The captain's crew were made up of men from many lands. Most had the deep copper skin and black hair of the Hybronians or Zapulians. But some were deep brown or light brown-skinned. Some were ebony-skinned men of the south land kingdoms, some were the almond-shaped eyed people of the north and then some were the very pale peoples of the Great Ridge lands to the far west and north. Yet, even then Anet had noticed that within all these races, skin colors differed. Some of the white skinned peoples were rather light copper, some blacks were light and those of people of the north with slanted eyes could be nearly bronze or fair. She wanted to ask the men who they were and what lands they hailed from but felt too shy and the men were quite busy and probably had no time for an inquisitive child. Lost in thought for a few hours, Anet had nearly missed the change in weather. The sky grew shadowed and from the east gray clouds formed far off. They were headed south by way of western port cities. She started to feel a little chill in the air. Anet went below deck and sat by Kaisha who was wrapped in a blanket. Iddina was slicing a roll of dried meat with fat and passing the pieces around the group. They were centered around a corner of the ship near many wooden boxes. Mother Berenice had pieces of hard, flat bread, passing pieces of them around. And so they ate and drank some water from a shared waterskin. Anet ate hungrily. She felt tired after the day's activity and the possibility of danger from the Hatchet Men. After eating she lay her head on Kaisha's shoulder and went to sleep.

They awoke to a violent start. It was night. Two small lanterns were the only light they could see by below deck. Most had been sleeping when the jolt bolted everyone awake. A baby began to cry somewhere in the ship. Suddenly a powerful clap of thunder sounded. They were in the middle of a brewing storm. She heard the soft whimpering of a woman. The wind had grown from a balmy breeze in the morning to a monstrous boil, roaring and whipping around the vessel like a raging demon. Tossed and turned this way and that, Anet's belly roiled with all the food she'd eaten earlier. Kaisha whimpered and grabbed hold of Anet's shoulder. There was a violent lunge and there were screams of terror. The crew were roaring orders and commands to lower the mainsail. Anet could feel water spray from above as the ship was buffered against high waves spraying on boards. This went on all night as the crew struggled mightily to keep the ship on course. They got a reprieve once the ship approached the small port on the island of Jutu and were able to pull in the small towing boat and empty it of water. Anet took this time to vomit overboard. Her head was spinning. Carisse managed to make it, with help from one of the other passengers, to the top deck. She put her hands upon Anet's forehead and after a few moments Anet's head and stomach settled.

"How do you do that, Carisse?" She asked.

"Practice, knowing the proper place of the hands, and prayer. Take off your head covering and get some air for your head and scalp. I have others to help before we move on, my child." Carisse smiled and winked at her and shuffled on. Anet obeyed eagerly and pulled off her head covering and let her long braids hang loose. Loose curled tendrils had escaped and she swept them back. The weather still looked threatening but the storm had abated. The captain was talking worriedly in clipped, heavily accented Alhar with one of his men. She sidled over closer to catch snatches of the conversation.

"The cloud cover will get worse by the time we leave here. If we cannot see the stars how will we direct the ship?" Asked the sailor. The captain shook his head, frowning.

"We cannot. We will stay here for the night and hope tomorrow is clearer." Anet wondered if they would encounter the dragons of the sea. The sailor and the captain did not seem concerned, strangely, over this but over the storm. _But would this not be the perfect time for a dragon to strike them? In a maelstrom?_

"I think this storm is a demon storm." Said the captain.

"You do? Why?" Asked the sailor.

"I prayed to Dana for calm waters and to Hec for sunny skies and that his light would not be obscured by the cloud masses of Turok but it would seem the storm god has prevailed, for now. We cannot even see the evening star, Elitaph. Bad fortune, that is. Very bad."

"Well, we have these wise women on board. Perhaps they will bring us luck. I hear the gods listen when they pray. Not all is lost."

"We will see." Said the captain. Anet paid little attention to Hec or Turok or the many other gods and goddesses in the world. From Gamina they were all so far away. But the sea monsters! If they encountered one what could they do? She wandered the deck looking for someone to talk to about the things on her mind and she thought the sailors would know more than anyone else. She found a sailor pulling together and fixing some planks.

"Excuse me, sir." She asked. The sailor turned around.

"Are there any sea dragons in the Gaspa Sea?"

"Dragons? No, girl. No dragons in the Gaspa Sea. Only in the Llordis Sea, as far as I know."

"The Llordis Sea!"

"Yes. The great Lord of the Llordis is Abgaron, son of Garon, one of Turok's names in the north and the far west. It would be well if we were traveling the Llordis, little one. For we could throw a pretty maiden to the sea, into the maw of Abgaron as an offering to make the storm go away!" He said and laughed. Anet was not amused. She fixed him with her most severe, Instructress-Helga frown.

"And why would you do such a thing?" She asked, indignant.

"Why, that is what the sailors of old times did to appease the gods of storm and sea. Seemed to work well back then. Still does. Or so I hear." He winked at her. Anet sniffed and turned and stalked off. She was a Scion of the citadel. How dare he tease her like that! Perhaps Instructress Helga was right. Scions did not have time for such superstitions, though now that she thought on it, she probably should like to look upon Abgaron's great scales and head and tail looming over the ship, breathing smoke and hot steam before they threw her overboard. She was quite sure that Airend-Ur, who made everything and everyone, would give her a great star-sword so that she could defeat the evil dragon. She wondered if such creatures could be controlled or commanded by anyone besides the gods themselves. And it made her marvel at how little most Hybronians knew about the wide world unless they traveled the deserts or sailed the seas. She'd heard it more than once recounted by the gentle Gaminite townspeople and farmers, who were as provincial as they came, that there was not much to the world but this: to the north was The Great Ridge, to the south was Jura, to the west was Egi and to the east was Zapulia, with Hybron the very center of the world. This was the compass and thought of most people in Hybron and how they saw their place in the world. There was so much they did not know and they did not seem to care. But she cared a great deal. She saw some of the younger sisters off ashore fishing or looking for plants to take home or just sunning their legs and feet. She went off to find Kaisha. At least she had new information, disappointing and comforting to her and Kaisha, respectively: there were no dragons, from those who knew, in the Gaspa Sea.

After that day of rest in Jutu, the next day they sailed on and unfortunately the seas became rough again. The sky was a thick mash of light and dark gray storm clouds and they had to endure the tempestuous winds and rough seas for five more days. The women spent most of this time in fervent prayer, Mother Berenice keeping the lanterns lit and seemingly the only source of light and hope on board as the other passengers prayed and wondered in silence when the storms would abate and if they would make it to shore alive. The baby wailed in terror whenever he was not nursing or sleeping. The scions took the mother and baby among them and made sure the mother always had food before anyone else to keep her breasts full of milk.

On the sixth day, the rain was unrelenting and the storm grew even worse. Anet spent that entire day grasping for any sister beside her for comfort. Kaisha had to be given constant sedative droughts to keep from screaming. At any moment they thought the ship would burst apart on the open sea and all would be lost. Anet saw in the far corner a man, tall and gaunt, staring pointedly at her. He seemed to carry his own lantern. She had not remembered seeing him on board before now but she had not paid close attention to all the passengers. He nodded to her mysteriously, his dark eyes like pools of ink and he himself the color of opal stone. She looked around to see if anyone else saw him. No one seemed to notice or care as they were preoccupied with their own souls. She thought that maybe she had imagined him. The man was still there, staring and then she heard a voice in her mind.

Do not fear the storm, child. You have been chosen for a purpose. No one on this ship will die, you least of all will come to harm, for you are blessed.

Anet felt a calm come over her that she had not felt before. She was no longer afraid. She looked for the man and it was then that she did _not_ see him. It then occurred to her that perhaps she'd had a waking dream. She turned toward Mother Berenice who was looking at her in wonder. Mother Berenice looked toward the corner where the mysterious figure sat but there was no one there. Then she glanced at Anet and a knowing look dawned on Mother Berenice's face. Anet was confused by this but she knew Mother Berenice was graced with perceptive powers and visions of her own. Anet knew she had not imagined the man.

Hours later that night a violent jerk nearly overturned the ship and everyone screamed. Terror was rising in the crew and the passengers and the crew got ready to throw the cargo overboard. Mother Berenice stood up, steadied herself and gathered her tunic and skirts underneath her, affixed her head covering and her mantle upon her and addressed the crowd huddled together.

"Men, women, all who are here, listen to me! I tell you, none of us shall die on this voyage, though it seem dire!"

"And how do you know, woman? We are lost at sea and no god has answered our prayers, including yours!" Shot a man.

"I know it would seem so but but we will not die, nor will the ship sink or go under. Be of good faith. I am a servant of the First Pillar. I would not lie to you for He would strike me down if I said so, though it be false! Do I seem to you a feather brained filly, covered in step chains and full of gossip to you?" Mother Berenice's voice took on a force of deep timbre and tone that made the air vibrate and everyone fell silent as she spoke. It was rare when she did this. Anet had only heard her speak in this way once and that was when they were threatened by Hatchet Men encamped outside the citadel, when she cursed the Ainash over the walls of the fortress. It was like a wave of fire that rolled over the room of the lower deck. Everyone strained to listen. Mother Berenice then softened her voice a bit and she called all the people to her. They made their way toward the scions.

"Come and let us pray together, for many who pray together with all sincerity are a powerful force." She beckoned the people and they gathered together around the scions and as one group, all the people and the scions held hands and bowed and Mother Berenice raised her voice in prayer to God and they prayed with her all night. When the morning came the storm had gone and the sky was as clear as the morning call to prayer at the citadel of Gamina.

**Chapter Ten**

Bakku fanned himself wearily as his palanquin atop the elephanta swayed slightly. He was thankful for the screen dividing him from the insects - but would rather it all be over. His falcon was stoically perched on her bar next to his seat. He fed her a morsel of raw meat and she snapped it up hungrily. They had entered Egi and crossed the river Mowret yesterday with no little amount of effort and he was in a hurry to seek some comfort in a cool, luxurious, stone-hewn mansion, somewhere. Anywhere. They had passed countless dirty little villages full of dirty people gawking at the great procession and he was sick of it all. Egium was finally within sight, a mountain-clad city standing over the land amid sharp, dagger-like cliffs. Even in the distance the buildings and towers in the towns along the main road were long, high and slender, the opposite of Jhis's monstrous structures. In dimensions Egium's splendid grace matched Jhis's massive grossness.

They passed between two giant stone images of the ancient moon goddess Elyshe, mother of Nimnet. Someone was strumming an oud somewhere below him. He wished he could strike them but he was too tired. He hated music. He felt a pain in his left hand and saw that it was bleeding from his fingernails digging wounds in his palm. It was his anger at the inconvenience of travel. He steeled himself and renewed his fanning, furiously this time. The train was as slow going as a procession of mud snails.

The king, suddenly had decided that he would come to Egi after all. After carefully placed prodding from Bakku, the king had decided in the middle of the trip that he would marry the woman, whether she be pretty or hideous. Bakku was nearly out of patience with this trip and everything else. Even this great wedding celebration that would encompass games at the grand arena and feasting and revelries. It was the treasury that mattered. Elephanta and horned beasts as well as lions, tigers and wolves would be in the fighting games as well as the bravest fighters. Joy and blood would be in the air and the streets all week during that time and it was his duty to make sure everything worked out. For the priesthood as much as for the king. He had to ensure that the bride and her family arrived safely and that the bride was physically sound for the king. For that, physicians had been brought along. He knew the family, an old family with ties to the old kingdom before the Destruction. The House of Seht was the undisputed ruling family of Egium and chieftain Seht ruled as vassal of Egi.

Bakku's mind wandered to the temple and then to Ilim. Anger rose again. _He should have been executed! If only Ilim did not know the king so well. If only the king did not care for him!_ But he could not deal in if-onlys. He heard the call of a temple-crier in the city, far in the distance He poured himself a goblet of sweet wine from Zapulia – he detested the fermented elixirs, beers and the sour milk wines of Hybron.

By evening they had arrived at Egium, passing through the familiar high corridor cliff face. The pennants with the symbols of the king's tribe flew proudly up and down the train and the guards at the gates demanded the roads cleared. The king's train – though the king himself had decided to break camp and dwell temporarily a few miles outside of Egium, as he did not like the gods of Egi - was not stopped but given as wide a berth as possible as they began the climb up to the city. The king's capriciousness drove Bakku to distraction but at least he had not backed out of the marriage. Bakku reminded Khalit of the great wealth that was his if he went through with the marriage. Khalit, he'd thought in unnecessary irritation, commanded him to go and bring her. Then he sat down with his court favorites to a game of hadana.

The train followed the stream along the road and as they climbed, the houses grew closer together in tight rows upon rows and then there were no discernible rows but houses and mansions and shops carved right into the cliff face on either side. Bakku surveyed the city from his high vantage point in satisfaction. They passed the wide tents of the vast day bazaar of Egium and as they ascended to the main street the houses became bigger, more slender and more elaborate, some built with stone and wood and others built into the rock high above and below. Temples and obelisks stood like trees lining the main boulevard. Much of the traveling in the city happened behind the rock of the mountains. Most walkways, passages and bridges were built within the mountains themselves and these hidden streets were not dirty or dusty but paved with beautiful colored stones and tunnels and halls decorated with tiled mosaics and lit with soft lanterns. Egium was named the City of Eternal Night, as nearly half of its activity took place out of daylight.

Before them rose a temple with a silver sphere ensconced in the wall at the top and under it a large statue of Nimnet, the moon goddess, prime deity of the Strabians and the patron goddess of Egium. She held herself serene in a sitting pose, with two opal stones for eyes and under her feet were the silver overlaid doors to her temple. Bakku knew that in that temple there was a secret way to the infamous Night Market. He would have to pay another visit there again. One could buy things there that one could buy nowhere else. He loved Egium. It was a city hidden in sharp, mountainous land - remote, mysterious and full of secrets. The opposite of gross, common, open-faced Jhis. Egium was a city, mysterious; secret roads, secret passages, secret rites, secret enclaves. A city of shadows and hidden things.

Finally they reached the house of Tenan Seht. It was more of a small castle than a house. The subjects were all aflutter at the grand train of the king's court arriving. There was chatter in the street everywhere. Tenan and his house had come out to greet them. The old man himself, ancient as the mountain, was being carried upon a chair by servants. Bakku climbed down from his palanquin and climbed up the steps to meet him. Tenan gave a command and his chair was lowered.

"Greetings, Bakku na' Lafeh. It has been a long time. It is good to see you again."

"I thank you, Lord Seht, Most Honored One. Egium is just as beautiful as ever." Bakku bowed.

"As always. I trust the king is on his way? It has been reported to me that he was not seen in the train."

"His Greatness has set up his camp just outside the gate. He awaits her there."

"I see." Tenan lowered his voice. A look of disdain briefly flickered across his face at this offense. "Well, it is good to see one who keeps to the ways of civilized men. Come and let us refresh you. I know your journey has been long and dusty. I have much sweet wine that we will drink over conversation." Just what he wanted to hear.

"And your daughter? How does she fare?" He supposed he must ask as she was the entire reason for this business. He would not mind gazing upon her great beauty again, either. Bakku was proud of himself. The king would not find a better match anywhere. As soon as he saw her, Bakku knew the king would agree to the match. It would be perfect and such a match would make Bakku rise in esteem of the king and his court and it would bring culture and refinement to the barbarian king he had to serve. For the time being.

"My daughter is well and is ready for the wedding. She looks forward to it, as does much of the family. The House of Seht is honored by the match." Tenan said but the subtle distaste in his voice told otherwise. The re-subjugation of Egi would never be forgotten. Bakku new better than to speak of the family's misfortune openly as Strabians did not like to acknowledge grief or misfortune in public. Some of the king's men approached.

"My lords of Hybron. Welcome." Said Tenan. His voice was deep and ragged from age and though he was ancient his eyes always had the look of embers of cold fire burning in a void. They bowed to him.

"Our lord of Egi. Blessings upon you and your house."

"I thank you. The air grows chilly and I am old. Let us go inside. There are arrangements of course, to be made. I hear the king wants barges of all sorts." Said the chieftain. Bakku bowed again.

"If the king is happy with her after our inspection, he will want no expense spared." He said. Bakku and the king's administrators followed them in as Tenan's servants began the arduous task of unpacking belongings. They would be here for three days before going back to the city and this time it would be an even bigger train, with the bride traveling with them.

The house was richly decorated and there was much in the way of blue, the sign of the very wealthy. Blue cushions everywhere, blue delicate glass, blue gossamer veils and hangings that separated each room and the floors were inlaid with silver coins with resin on top so that they glittered like the moons. The administrators were taken to their sleeping apartments. Bakku was escorted to the chieftain's sitting room, to his balcony where he looked onto the shaded streets of the city below. A manservant poured them sweet wine in crystal, gold-rimmed goblets that glittered with prisms of color.

"As you know, my sons have died and I am an old man. My brother in Yilphaeus sees an opportunity. I have had to put up a mighty fight to keep him away from my daughter. He is offended that I have not done my duty and collapsed down and died yet. So now he seeks my death, of that I have no doubt."

"You believe he is behind the deaths?"

"Certainly and now he seeks to make my daughter his wife to gain my fortune. Twice I believe he has tried to poison me. We do not have time to waste for this marriage. Inspect Taliat first thing in the morning. I am sure you will find her more than pleasing and sound in health for the king and her dowry a great one. I have but one request, Bakku."

"What is that?"

"That I be allowed to see the wedding celebrations at court. She is my only child left and I would see her safely ensconced in the Hybronian court. I shall travel to Jhis."

"Of course, Lord Seht. I am sure the king will welcome his most loyal vassal."

"King Khalit. You work in his court. How do you find him these days?" Tenan took a sip of wine. Bakku grinned.

"When approached the right way, he can be. . .persuaded. One must be careful. He is intemperate. Volatile, much like all his kind. Full of emotionality. It is a tightrope but keep the levers that move him working and he can be, properly persuaded."

"And what levers have you found profitable?"

"Glory and gold. And women."

"To the gods! I like to hear it!" He clapped. "What made him decide upon a new queen so suddenly? I thought it would take forever and then Taliat would have been past her prime."

"But as you see, my lord, patience has worked for us. The barren queen needed removing. We made sure no heir would be born from her. Then, it was only a matter of reminding the king of a match with your daughter, whose family and father are allies of the court." Tenan croaked with laughter like a bullfrog. Bakku joined in.

"And no doubt the harrying of his borders by Kufun causes him to seek for strength and allies." Said Tenan. Bakku nodded.

"We build the maze and he comes running to us, finally." Said the chieftain in glee. A tiny bell rang.

"Ah. Supper is served. You will find it to your liking, I think. None of that muddy, greasy fare from Hybron. Blood poached grouse with gelled roots, lamb tajine, soft eggs in blood soup, white rice and some of that star wine from one of the Great Ridge lands. Also, some sweet cream and honey cakes afterward. I know you will be pleased, Bakku."  
"Actually, I was wondering Lord Seht if you happened to have one of your specialty wines?"

"I do. Scorpion or snake wine?"

"Snake."

"Steeped or mixed?"

"Steeped, if you do not mind?"

"I do not mind at all."

"Delightful." _Refinement. No greasy, sour foods here!_ Bakku thought and followed the shuffling chieftain toward the main dining hall.

. . .

It was long into the night and after a long smoke on the water pipe and planning the wedding procession details with a few of Lord Seht's household administrators, he climbed the long stair and wandered the cool halls of blue tiled rooms. It was night and the streets below were dotted with soft lantern lights. He heard the far away sound of flutes and ouds playing somewhere in the streets. He gazed at the mosaics and the calligraphy displaying and telling the family history. It was nearly as beautiful as the Golden Temple. Taliat had not presented herself for the evening meal. He was not surprised. She was but a child when he'd last saw her and he'd told her of a possible marriage to the king then. This arrangement had been years in the making. He'd thought to marry her himself, briefly, but he was not as highborn as she. He was only the king's messenger. _But who knew._ Bakku thought. Kings lived and died and not always naturally. This royal marriage was a far more equitable arrangement for all concerned. For now.

The lower servants remained out of sight, to his satisfaction. He was looking for a special air column along the wall in the narrowed hallway. _Ah! That is right._ It was just outside his usual guest quarters. He sauntered along, his hand moving along the smooth tiles until he found the tile that felt looser than the others. It was hidden beneath a richly colored blue and yellow embroidered hanging. He looked around furtively and satisfied no one was around, he pushed it in. A doorway thus far hidden, now opened to a long and very narrow, dark stair below. Bakku then sauntered down, the door closing behind him, making his way to the Night Market.

But someone _was_ watching and she had her own secret passage into the bowels of the house. Silently, she followed him.

Bakku made his way through catacombs long abandoned by the inhabitants for natural burial. He himself kept a thin black cloak about him under his robes, and a mask. Many people who visited the Night Market wore masks, especially those who might be recognized. He partially unwrapped his robes and pulled out his cloak and pulled it over himself. He put on the deep hood and his simple, black mask. As he went on, the halls became wider, the echoes of strange and eerie sounds flew and bounced against the walls like trapped bats. The voices and sounds became more numerous and louder and the dim lights of torches brightened as he approached the market. The Night Market was just as vibrant as any day market, yet there were many things that could be bought here that could not be bought out in the open. Bakku was here to find, among other things, poisons. Poisons in herbs, potions and candles. There were poisons that could be worked into tallow making and when the candles were lit they could do their work slowly with the burning flame. Different poisons produced different colors. Very few people knew about such things. He made his way through the roar and tangle of merchants, vendors and customers. The black stalled and black veiled merchant stalls beckoned with sensual scents of perfumes made of exotic ingredients, incense, foods and things for far darker purposes. There were brothels as well. There were special carved teraphim and other idols made of all sorts of materials for sorcery; dried animal parts, human parts and fluids and also live specimens. Bakku saw the merchant he needed straight ahead and behind his stall was a sign with a four-armed, long-tailed dancing woman. A place greatly sought after for those who _knew_. He felt sweat beading under his clothing as he thought of seeing Senneta again.

Vali padded nimbly from stall to stall, following, watching where ever he went. She deftly climbed upon the giant, crumbled, headless idol of Elyshe that once overlooked the catacombs. She watched with keen eye what Bakku purchased. Then he had his goods wrapped in black silk and the merchant packed them into a small chest. Among all the smells of the market, each scent was its own and Vali was not put off or confused by any of them. She licked her paw casually and glanced up when he started off toward the brothel. She saw all the merchants he talked to, what he bought and which merchant he bought the poisons from. And now she saw that he had unusual tastes for sensual pleasure. Valuable things to report back. Mistress would be pleased.

**Chapter Eleven**

Ilim began to bemoan his old age and wished he could leap like a gazelle, like the young men. The traveling was getting hard and especially on the back of the mule. After many days of traveling Ilim eventually met some Raea tribesmen. On first catching sight of him they marveled at him and Ilim wondered why until one youth exclaimed that he was Nagilla come back in the flesh. Ilim rebuked the youth for it, thinking he was drunk but an older man approached him slowly, gently pulling Ilim aside and told him what they all saw.

"Ahaifa! You have the light of God streaming from your face and it is wondrous to our eyes. Though you may no longer perceive it, we can."

"Such is the countenance of a man who communes with God. He no longer sees the glory in the same way lesser men do." Said another man. Ilim was struck silent at this, touching his face. So it was not a fever dream in any way. It was truly confirmed for him now. God had made another way for him, another path and caused him to meet up with friends on the plains.

In fact, they had come looking for him, sent by the elder men he'd set off with earlier. Once they'd found him traveling back he left with them and it so happened that some among the group were going to make the trek south to Rhuctium to buy salt. At first they'd thought to head east to Zapulia to buy the sea salt harvested there but word traveled that one of the massive Elapu caravans of the south had finally arrived from the salt basin in the Sidunna Desert and that there was now much good salt to be bought and sold in the markets there. Besides, word also traveled that Hatchet Men were near the Zapulian border and they had no wish to encounter them. Tribesmen had little fear of outsiders but they had business to conduct and were not looking for trouble and they were traveling as a small group to buy salt, not as a large armed band of warriors.

He was now traveling with the caravan and he was given the honored position of traveling by camel.

"A prophet has risen up!" Many of them began to say excitedly. But Ilim stopped them.

"I do not know yet what life entails for me. Do not say a thing before a thing is sure, my brothers." But Ilim was much happier. He now had a grand purpose in life and he thanked God inwardly for it. They began preparations for a feast once they arrived at Rhe and showed Ilim their underground bathhouse. After taking his clothes off he was first sanded down vigorously until his skin turned a dark, ruddy color. An old woman grabbed the robes and tunic and went off to have them washed. Then he entered the steam room with the other old men and then to the pools to bathe. Afterward, he was refreshed, once again and thoroughly cleansed.

The town consisted of permanent dwellings, the small one and two-story stone houses of the townspeople, and temporary dwellings, long houses of the Raea when they were not traveling the open desert.

After all of the proper greetings among the tribes people were observed they made a feast to share their joy with with him that reminded him of his time living with the Karig. Hundreds had come out to share in the meal and to see and speak with him and to give and receive blessings. Someone brought out a flute and another an oud and there was music and clapping and singing and laughing and much fellowship. It brought back good memories. He felt as if he could again delve into the oneness of the tribe. He had observed one thing among more than one tribe: They were fiercely independent people yet adhered to a strict sense of hierarchy and honor within the group. Every individual and family had their place but everyone had a voice in matters, yet to the outsider they moved and breathed as one organism. The musky odors of the tribal dwellings and the scenery of their surroundings created a stark and simple beauty, a reminder of all that was elemental and pure. They hunted, sometimes on foot, great and fierce beasts, they fought when necessary and could be savage. Life was hard and men were tested in regards their strength. But they revered the world around them and the One that formed it. It was strength that was not forced or created in an arena. It was what it was, given to them by Divine Hand and honed by the land and the beasts that inhabited it and they respected it as all glory to God, or to the gods if they did not worship the First Pillar. Some of the men had married Karig women, Ilim noticed when he arrived into town. He himself had thought of marrying one long ago but he had devoted himself to God completely after his one great love died of fever many, many years ago.

The meal was rich. There was milk wine - a soured milk from camel, sheep, goat or mare - mixed with red sweet wine, quass, flat breads with olive oil, dried fruits, stewed goat and mutton and their own version of lapirim.

Lapirim was a staple of the tribal peoples. It was called different names by different tribes but it was always quite similar – organ meats aged and mixed with layers of herbs and salt and spread with the fat when deemed ready to eat. Some prized the hearts, others livers or kidneys or brains and spleens. But it was also made with eyeballs, lungs or genitals. It could be made from nearly any plant eating animal but sometimes predators too, the most prized lapirim made from horned beasts, _aurochs_ or wild elephanta, but meat from those animals were rare. It was often stored underground for preservation. How much lapirim was served at a celebration feast was often a sign of the wealth of a family and sometimes there were even lapirim eating contests. The Raea usually preferred hearts and brains in their lapirim, but nothing of the animal was wasted. It had given its life to the tribe so that they might live, therefore it was necessary to eat everything. To do anything less was a sign of disrespect to the life given up. Ilim had nearly forgotten how much he'd missed it. He was feeling tired and needed it to strengthen himself for the long journey ahead. Generous portions were sliced and he piled them upon his flat bread and ate his fill, washing it down with milk wine. Later he ate dried plums and raisins and some honeycomb – the Raea were truly a wealthy tribe – and talked with the men after the feast, while they drank tea and gazed at the stars above.

"We are glad you made it back my friend. Tell us! What did you see?" Asked Kesh'i.

"I have glimpsed the mind of God. He has given me a commission." They all nodded.

"We saw the rays from your face. Truly, you spoke with God. What was His will?"

"Messages of denunciations. To denounce the corruption in Jhis." Said Ilim. He took a sip of tea. Kesh'i chuckled.

"The Ainash will not like that much." Said one of the other men.

"The Ainash do not like anything that requires forthrightness. Why I became one I will never understand."

"Ah, my brother, you are from an important family. You were trained to be one all your life. God put you there for a reason. Who better to clean a house than one who has lived in it?" Said Kesh'i. Ilim permitted himself a smile.

"You are speaking right, Kesh'i. Things do have reasons that we may not know." He took another sip. It was flavored with cardamom and cinnamon. He savored the scented bloom of steam and a thought came to him. "Tell me, why do you not simply go to Jhis and buy salt there?"

"Jhis! Dak Ellak!" Kesh'i cursed.

"Juhi!" Said another. "They think us simple and stupid in Jhis. Salt is three times higher there than anywhere else and they think tribesmen cannot count. The sellers even saw it down and put it in pots and cut it with powdered white rock. Thieves and robbers, all of them!"

"We prefer the slab salt. That way we can see for ourselves what we are getting. Nothing but corruption and treachery from top to bottom in Jhis. Besides, Jhis becomes more dangerous each year for those who hold to the old ways."

"That is true." Ilim had to agree. Was he not going back there to denounce them for these very reasons?

"One of my friend's sons, a young man not more than fourteen years, was kidnapped while there and thrown into the arenas. He was a rebellious ram's ass who wanted the city life, but even so, he was a child of the tribe. We have not heard anything about him since. Lately, we have heard through the voices of the sands that they have taken to acting like the Egians. Kidnapping the poor and foreigners with no powerful family ties and throwing them into the games, or, from what we hear, in Egi, forced conscription, slavery or even prostitution, if they have youth and a fair look to them. Either way, it is an accursed place these days."

"Was it ever a blessed place?" Asked Ilim and the others murmured in agreement. Ilim sighed. He thought of Khalit, another one rebellious against his elders and against God, looking for a way to make a name for himself after finding out about his Reshaim ancestors. He often thought of the king as his own son. His ears burned for good news but it was not to be found in Jhis and he wondered. Powerful as he was and wild of spirit, Khalit was not a schemer by heart. Everything he did was in the open. He worried for the king.

After the meal they gathered by a fire in the home of Kesh'i and retold accounts of the Reshaim and stories of honor and great warriors of old. Then they asked Ilim for any important official news. He told them of the king's intention to take a new queen. They scoffed at this.

"A Strab. It is no good, Ilim. The king has set himself on the path to death." Said one man.

"Strabians, they call themselves. Puh! Back when I was young they were simply known as Strabs. High-minded, strange people. Never trust a Strab and do not marry one, nor take their daughters for your sons or give your daughters to their sons in marriage. It was known wisdom." Said another man, shaking his finger in the air.

"May it always be known." Said Ilim. The others raised their voices in approval.

Quite a few new babies had been born that week and now that it was known that Ilim was a prophet of God the tribal mothers approached and requested a blessing from him. The shaikhs gladly approved it so Ilim asked for a public call to prayer. A young man took up an old red ram's horn and blew it. Many town's people came out and soon there was an even bigger crowd of tribes people and townspeople. Ilim prayed before them. The call and response.

"Blessed are those of the desert for they have not forgotten the First Pillar."

"Ellah Kaifah."

"Blessed be all the babes born in the desert for they have been given the true life from God."

"Ellah Kaifah."

"May they always recognize the First One and may God watch over them all the days of their lives."

"Ellah."

"Blessed be the tribes people that they keep to the way of the First One."

"Ellah Kaifah."

"May God rebuke those who deceive us and curse those who would veil Him from the people. He has opened the way and is sending his king to bring us back to the Red Path."

"Ellah."

"May we all seek His light in the darkness and seek His will in the face of all the gods for He is first. May we keep our eyes on the one He will send to straighten the way. Ellah Kaifah."

"Ellah Kaifah." Ilim felt as if a weight was lifted from his heart. He _would_ seek the way and clear the path for the one who was coming. An invisible storm was coming over the world, a storm of darkness and light. And he had much work to do. Whether he would live to see it to completion he did not know but it made him glad of purpose, nonetheless. Many kissed and embraced him and went back to their homes.

"My brother, you are always welcome among the Raea." Said Kesh'i.

"I will never forget your kindness to me, Kesh'i." Said Ilim. The next morning Ilim left just before sunrise, when the sky was a faint dawning blush of orange and pink. Others had risen while it was still dark to see him off.

"Blessed be the prophet of God!" Some of the townspeople and tribesmen called. The camels and pack mules were loaded and they began their journey south where they would eventually travel west to Rhuctium and he would go east to Gamina to meet this mysterious girl-child.

**Chapter Twelve**

Shishak waited patiently in his study while the evening sun sank down behind thin, blood red clouds. The call to Night Prayers had sounded not too long ago. He ignored it, for this night he had special business. Jhis was more crowded than usual with satraps and vassals and all their retinues coming in and looking for lodgings. The most important were lodged right in the palace and the temple would be more than full of worshipers. He tapped his fingers absently to the sound of the lash. Below in the temple courtyard a man was being whipped. He had yet to hear from Bakku but he knew the new queen's family and her entourage were well on their way. Just a few days ago he had received a message by falcon from Bakku that they had just crossed back over the river. He got back to work and finished stamping his seal of approval on the letter Demos wrote up for him. The city was pregnant with anticipation – and threats of unrest. Not everyone was happy to see the king replace the queen with this new woman and some had been a little too outspoken for the taste of the high priest. The former queen, now the Most Honored Lady Diti, was still seen in some quarters as the true queen. That would have to change. The man outside had dared to reproach him and other priests and the council for supporting this new marriage. Shishak despised the low people and the Aishanna-La especially for their silly ideas about what was holy. Principles were fine for simple wretches with nothing to gain or live for, but the priesthood understood these things to be relative. The only thing not relative in Shishak's mind was every man's place. Every man had a place and the place of the common man as far as he was concerned, was to remain quiet. Besides, he had long distrusted Lady Diti the moment the usurping barbarian had decided to marry her. She had done nothing to support the Golden Temple and had long been a hindrance to those who supported it at court. He heard foot footfalls coming toward his chamber door. He lit another candle for extra light. A knock.

"Come!" It was Teman, Demos and the arena master.

"We have dredged up many fighters for the wedding celebrations, Shishak." Said Teman proudly.

"Dredged up? One hopes they are in good condition. How many? This will require a celebration of great proportions. The king stated before he left that he wanted a sea of blood spilled in the arena."

"Good sir, he will get his "sea of blood". Not only do we have the usual seasoned fighters and volunteers but we have managed to procure many others for the lions and the dog fights. My men gleaned them from the taverns and inns, drunk, and a few off some merchant ships in Haiga." Said the arena master.

"Good, good, Amat! I have brought you here because I have a new crop for you, arena master." The man had a strange gleam in his eye that Shishak found unsettling.

"Do you?"

"I do. There are many Aishanna-La here in the city who, suddenly, cannot pay the temple tax. The King's Guard will round up the men and the woman, young and old and any children and put them in the games." The Arena master's eyes went wide with surprise.

"Is there a problem?"

"Is this. . legal? What will the king say?" The man asked, hesitant. Shishak took up the letter with his own seal and what looked like the official seal of the king and waved it in his face, giving Teman a knowing glance. Amat squinted at it, muttering the contents to himself with difficulty. Teman turned to him.

"As I told you before, you need not worry about the king. He has left the priesthood in complete charge of these sorts of internal temple matters, those dealing with the people of the Golden Temple, and he is in agreement with us on this matter. You have only to read the letter and see the king's seal on it." Teman pointed to the letter. "Look, those who do not pay the temple tax are also many of those who do not pay the royal tax. You know the law. Those who refuse to pay the royal tax commit treason against the king and must be put to death. Among our own it is the same way with the temple tax. And you would do well to remember, tax evaders are rebels and are no friends to the people of Hec, who carry this city upon their backs." Said Teman. Shishak nodded.

"And besides, the captain of the King's Guard has already been made aware of the situation and is preparing to arrest them. If you will agree to hold them in the prisons and put them in the arenas, there will be a generous reward for you. You need not say anything about this nor will anyone besides us and the captain know of it." Shishak lifted up a large, wooden box from under his desk and opened it. In it was a small fortune of gold and silver coins. The arena master's eyes glittered at seeing the money, nearly six years' worth of wages. Far more than he ever saw. He would be nearly as well off as the best arena fighters. He then looked from Teman to Demos and smiled. Shishak grinned.

"We have a deal then?"

"Looks official to me. What terms?"

"I will send a message to you by falcon with the names of the families who are in violation. These monies are besides the payment for the dregs and the foreigners you managed to scrounge up from the inns and the docks looking for glory or gold. Find more if you can. I want them in the arenas for the wedding celebrations. Afterward, if there are no games scheduled after that, keep them in the prisons until the next round of games."

"What about goods? If they have valuables or houses. . ."

"Any household goods and possessions, you and your men can keep if you can get them. You must see to that with the captain of the King's Guard. Divide it up between yourselves. But all the deeds to houses and businesses will be sent to the temple. The captain knows this already. Understood?" Amat nodded quickly.

"Indeed, we have a deal." He said.

"Then, we are _all_ agreed on this?"

"We are all agreed." Said all the men. Shishak closed the lid and pushed the box toward Amat who snatched it up into his arms.

"Besides that, I shall pay you a gold coin for every extra man, a silver for every extra woman and a copper for every child you can manage to find on your own that is not on the list." Amat started, thinking it over again.

"It is not allowed to put children in the arenas." He said, gazing intently at him through narrowed eyes. Shishak shrugged.

"As to the lame, the old and children, throw them to the furnace. Or sell them to the slavers. I leave it to you."

"Fair enough. You Ainash must have great stores of gold." Amat said, his voice thick and eager. Shishak smiled and said nothing. Amat took his booty and left. Teman closed the door and laughed. Demos sat down slowly.

"Dealing with outsiders is hard work, my brothers. I wonder that God allows them to exist side by side with us." Shishak said disdainfully. Teman shrugged and picked a black grape from a bowl and ate it.

"It is a sin we are forced to commit every day. Why worry over it?" He said.

"He allows nothing and everything." Said Demos.

"Ah, Demos! Very true, very true, son. Nothing for the gullible that still read the book without understanding and everything for those of us who have sense. We have everything we need and He has not shown any displeasure. Why should it matter as long as we have our temple and our positions? One day we will have the kingship as well."

"We may already have it, Teman. Bakku has the ear and the confidence of this new queen and her family. If we can bend her, and these Strabs are like us in many ways when it comes to dealing with womenfolk, we already have it. If not, we may find a way to get a third queen. One of the high priest's sisters as a wife, or perhaps even one of _your_ sisters, Teman!" Said Shishak. Teman smiled.

"Any of them would make him a fine wife and queen." Said Demos quietly.

"I am always one step ahead. Teman, have the wretch in the courtyard thrown in prison." Teman got up and left. The sound of strokes had finally stopped and there was only the sound of the intoning hum of prayers and the late evening noises of the city. Shishak felt satisfied. The most important business of the day had just ended. It would be the grandest celebration the city had ever seen.

Demos said his goodbyes to his elders and went late to Night Prayers in the Courtyard of Sacrifice. This time he went through the motions as his mind was burning with the agonizing task he had - the letter he had to forge. Shishak came to his cell earlier than day with a forged signet seal of the king and dictated the letter. His ears burned as he wrote it down and now he had to find a way to warn the people. After Night Prayers, Demos went quickly back to his cell, walking briskly while in the courtyard and then running as fast as he could once he'd reached the second staircase. The halls were dark with the exception of a few torches casting long shadows. He took a candle, lit it and set it down on the desk, his hands trembling. Demos rummaged through his papers in a near panic, nearly toppling over his ivory box of tools. He'd made copies of the tax ledgers after they had raised the tax, wondering what evil they were up to this time. Now he knew. He swept up a swirling storm of papers until he found the ledgers. All of the names of the families who could not pay the new tax and how many months these families were in arrears. There were so many. Demos's heart dropped. How would he get to them before the King's Guard? There were five long pages. He carefully rolled them up and stuffed them in a side pocket in his robe, went downstairs and allowed himself to be pulled in by the swell of the crowds leaving the main courtyard. Sure that no one noticed him he broke away and turned left down a narrow street, lost to sight in the deepening dusk. The moons, like the milk-colored eyes of a blind snake were low on the horizon. He imagined grimly that he was being watched by some sky demon who stalked his movements and worked to foil him. He had to get to Eliaz as quickly as possible. It had all come so suddenly and then he was obliged to join Teman, the Father Scribe of the temple, in this meeting. But he now knew that it was the will of someone unseen that he be there to witness it and for that he was glad, though he barely had time to think of what to do. He fled down the street until he could turn a corner and found himself in a smaller, familiar looking enclave, away from the noise of the crowds. Eliaz did not live far from the temple, thankfully. When he finally saw Eliaz's house he sighed in relief. Looking around carefully, he listened for footsteps beside his own. He stood, listening for what seemed an age. Nothing. The street was quiet, save for the soft laughter of a woman in one of the houses across the street. He strode up as if he belonged there and knocked. He knocked again, this time more urgently. The lantern hanging by the front door bobbed gently in the breeze, the flame flickering precariously.

"It is late. Who is at the door?" Rasped a voice from the balcony. Demos stepped back and looked up. He made a show of being on official business.

"Master, you have forgotten something at the temple! I have brought it for you. May I come in? It is I, your scribal student!" He did not want to reveal too much. Ears were everywhere these days and especially at night. The old man peered down from his balcony.

"Please, Master!" Demos insisted. Eliaz frowned but consented.

"I shall come down." After some time Demos heard Eliaz come to the door. He opened it and Demos slipped in.

"Demos! I know you would not have come if this was not important." Eliaz shut the door firmly behind him.

"No, I would not! Master! Shishak and Teman are planning something most foul! You know the temple tax was raised some months ago?"

"Of course."

"Shishak came to me today and had me write a letter for him. A forgery."

"Not unusual from Shishak."

"But listen! He wrote a letter supposedly from the king and he had a forged seal that he put upon it. It looks exactly like the one the king gave to Bakku. I know it is not the real one because I saw Bakku leave the city and he was wearing it on his finger. In this letter, it gives the captain of the King's Guard the authority to arrest those who cannot pay the temple tax and throw them into the arenas for execution!" Demos spit out in a panic. Even in the dim candle light he could see Eliaz's face turn as white as bleached paper. He stumbled and Demos had to catch him and help him sit down.

"Oh Lord in the heavens! Do you mean he had this letter sent out today?"

"I do not know when he will send it but I am sure it will be within the week, before the king arrives! They also bribed the captain of the King's Guard, from what I learned and then brought the arena master to the temple this night and payed him a small fortune in gold and silver to put them in the arena prisons!" Demos sat down, waiting on Eliaz for some instruction. Eliaz put his head in his hands.

"Of all the faithful not allowed in, they would bring an outsider into the temple of God! And now this treachery! Demos, my son, for the first time I am not sure what to do. It would seem we have been outsmarted!" Eliaz mourned. He looked stricken.

"Do they know about us, Master? They. . ." Demos started but Eliaz shook his head. Demos pulled out the papers from his robe.

"I have made copies of all the families, the names of the people to be thrown to the lions or the dogs in the arenas. Men, women and children, old and young, it does not matter. It will be for the entertainment for the new wedding celebration. Master Eliaz, we must do _something_ and soon!" Demos pleaded. Eliaz suddenly sat up.

"Demos! You are young! Do you know some of them? Some of these people, where they live?"

"Only a few."

"Go to them, Demos, now! Tell them of this. Now that I think on it, I know of someone that might be able to help. It will be very dangerous but there is hope. We shall see."

"Your falcon, Master! Can you use him?"

"It will attract attention. I shall use a different messenger. Go and do what you can!" He gave Demos a hooded black cloak to hide his face. Demos left immediately to alert the few families he knew personally, hoping this rescue effort would stay under cover of darkness. He also hoped he would not encounter patrolling city guards.

Eliaz said a prayer, weeping profusely, then he steeled himself. If only Ilim were here, but he had to find his own courage. He could not hide behind Ilim's skirts any longer. Not if he would save these people from certain death. _It was for this reason,_ he told himself, _that I stayed with the temple._ Even through all the excesses and evil doings of the priesthood. Not just because he was afraid to leave the comfort and familiarity of the community but because he had to save the Aishanna-La from their own priesthood. _Wolves! Besides, where else could a man go if not the Golden Temple? If a man were cast out of the temple like Ilim_. . . he shuddered to think of such a desperate existence. Eliaz ambled over to his writing desk and took out a reed pen, a bottle of ink, some water and a roll of paper. He also took out a small, gold metal bird with gold-laced wings and set it carefully on the desk before him.

"You must fly, my little forbidden friend." The new woman had not yet arrived. There was still the _true_ queen, though she was now officially deposed, who still held some sway among the people, if not at court. He would appeal to her.

**Chapter Thirteen**

They reached the port of Kukuma in Murka in total, ten days, after being out on the stormy sea. The storm had followed them from the Gaspa all the way into the South Ocean and did not abate until they reached the Dakanar Sea, off the northern coast of Jura.

Murka was every bit as large and busy as Yallas-by-the-Sea but instead of the vibrant colors of the houses and buildings these here were bright, white stone houses or brown, mud brick houses and there were many dwellings that were round.

They had not eaten for three days, feeling too ill. The crew gave Mother Berenice kisses of respect but also out of gratefulness and affection for her as they de-boarded. They also offered what little food or goods they had of which the scions and Mother Berenice would not accept but the passengers insisted and they finally relented. Mother Berenice kissed the baby and blessed him and the young mother. The woman wept, overcome with emotion and for the first time since they had all set off aboard the baby smiled and gurgled.

"May the gods grant you good fortune, sister." The passengers would say.

"Thank you, my sister. For our very lives!" Or

"May the gods keep you, sisters." Of which they were all grateful and Mother Berenice would bow and smile and say:

"Go forward with God's blessing." Climbing on to firm ground again, they were unsteady and Anet felt dizzy. The sun was even hotter and brighter in this land than the one they'd left. Great hangings of the House of Juta fluttered boldly in their orange and black colors with _yaryebu_ symbols on nearly every major building and everywhere she could smell delicious foods being cooked. There was the broad and scintillating smell of fresh bread baking in a communal oven nearby. All these scents mingled with the scent of raw fish and the salt sea which weaved together the suggestion of an imaginary feast fit for a king in Anet's mind. The rows upon rows of great ships stood like sentinels along the dock and workers toiled to and fro over the walkways carrying great loads of goods on their heads or herding cattle and other animals from the larger ships and into the port. One ship in particular caught her attention. It was a great ship, far bigger than any ship in the port. It was also the farthest away. It was a massive golden ship with sails that seemed to be made of delicate silver spiderwebs. They flew in the slight breeze like diaphanous, delicate sheets and in the sunlight at times seemed to disappear from the eye's view so that it seemed a great fantastical thing out of dreams, floating in and out of sea mists, though it was a bright and clear day. Anet tried to call to the others to show them this wonderful ship but when she had turned back to look for it again it was gone. After what seemed like forever they finally left the docks. They followed Mother Berenice down the streets, passing by a market, one of many in Murka. The women were dressed in their bright flower-like wraparound dresses. They looked like birds of paradise with their great head wraps of red, orange, yellow or green and some wore white head wraps with gold or silver chains if they were wealthy. The men wore their pants and shammas made of brilliant colors. In Hybron only the wealthiest people could afford to wear such brilliant colors and even only the wealthiest of the wealthy could afford to wear blue, the rarest color. There was not much blue here but red, green, white, yellow, orange, and many tints and shades in-between.

Anet noticed that some only wore bright white linen or cotton, both men and women. There were camels everywhere in the city and zebras imported from further south. Anet was fascinated with these black and white horse-like creatures. She had only seen drawings of them in books. Murka was a city of contrasts. The clothes were colorful and the dwellings were smooth, simplicity - sunbaked mud brick houses with wooden poles. Most of the residences were long, one story dwellings. Some, especially those of the wealthier inhabitants or the royal buildings were three or four story buildings. The doors, Anet noted, stood out among the simplicity of the houses. The doors were of heavy wood and depending on the status or wealth of the family would be elaborately carved, even with myths and family legends on them and inlaid with precious stone, bone, gold, silver or copper. Or if it was the home of a government official that would be evident with the symbol of the king of Jura, of the royal _yaryebu_. The rich also had door-knockers of engraved gold, silver or electrum fastened to the door. There was a saying in Murka: _"Do not judge a house by its door."_ Yet, this also signified to those entering who had wealth and prominence – or aspired to it - and who did not. To Anet it was all a marvelous sight. They passed by many stalls which stoked the fires of hunger. Anet's legs felt like heavy logs and Kaisha was complaining of hunger. She was three years older than Anet's ten years but Anet swore sometimes she behaved like a three year old. After all, everyone was becoming hungry, the bad voyage now a memory. Mother Berenice, even in her fatigue was unwilling to stop and rest until she'd found a suitable inn.

The inn she had settled on had the sign of a star and a dot within which signaled the inn keeper was one of the Aishanna-La. The door was carved with pictographs of a man and woman and there was a simple script in iron fastened to the door: Yar-Airun.

The Jurite name for God.

"Our people are in this place?" Asked Kaisha. Anet frowned.

"Of course, Kaisha! Do not be stupid. Do you not remember our lessons?"

"I am not stupid! Do not call me that!"

"The faithful dispersed to all parts of the world. . ."

"I know our lessons, Anet!" Now Kaisha was angry but Anet did not care as long as she was quiet. Kaisha talked too much sometimes and it was usually of some handsome, imaginary swordsman or lord who would come and marry her. Mother Berenice gave them a sharp warning look and that was the end of it. The inn was small but clean with only a few patrons at the tables sipping beer. They had to step down into a recessed floor. Inside was slightly cooler, a welcome respite from the merciless heat. The innkeeper, an unassuming, short, black man who was lugging in a large amphora of honey beer looked up at them in surprise and then in recognition, seeing their gray tunics and robes.

"Yamma!"

"Yamma! Greetings, my brother!" Said Iddina. The man laughed, happy to see them.

"Sisters, welcome! How is it you have come so far?"

"Thank you, my brother! I am Berenice. Our journey here is a long story but we've had to come far out of the way to avoid trouble. Do you have some lodging for us? Until we can procure some way to get to Hybron?" Asked Mother Berenice.

"I do indeed! Do not worry about money. Any scion of the citadel stays here for free. Come, let me show you where we have available lodging." He said. As it turned out, there was a small room available for the eldest scions along with Mother Berenice to stay in. The rest of them had to sleep in the stable out back but there was an upstairs loft there, which was comfortable enough for ship- worn guests. He had a manservant put in new straw and had large tin bath tubs brought in and filled with fresh water for which they were very glad and took turns washing. Anet and Kaisha being among the youngest were last to bathe but even so, they were grateful for it. Sitting in her sleeveless shift after they had all washed up, Anet dunked her veils and robes in the water, cleaned them and hung them on a ledge. It was so hot that she was sure they would dry within a few moments. She lay back on her pallet and listened to the sounds outside. The language, Ulu, was not completely foreign to her as she'd heard it before but she could not speak it. There were plenty of Jurite people in Hybron, travelers, merchants or those married into Hybronian families but she had never been to Jura. She glanced out the window outside as Kaisha followed her lead and washed her own clothes. The other sisters were now fast asleep, worn out from the long and troublesome voyage. In the distance, nearly like a dream she could see monuments of gods and goddesses and pyramid-shaped temples just outside the city. Smaller than the ones in Egi. She had seen drawings and paintings of those at the citadel library and they were lovely just the same. These buildings far off were white as fine bleached linen and even farther in the distance out in the desert she thought she saw a rounded pyramid, a mountain-like temple with a gleaming top of what looked like electrum. It seemed there were two creatures holding up a great arch over its doorway. It reminded her of the painted walls and sculptures she saw at the palace in Jhis, except in Jhis lions were the king's royal symbol. These looked like the god-elephanta she'd heard of. She wanted to see these stone elephanta up close, or real ones, better yet. She'd seen the elephanta of the deep southern kingdoms only once, a royal tribute to the king in Hybron and they were sights to behold with their palaces on top of their backs and the king and queen sitting in them, black and shining as polished ebony and covered in gold.

Kaisha brought out a small tin and turned to Anet.

"Anet, please rub this on." This was a ritual Kaisha engaged in faithfully so that she would not burn. Anet obliged and rubbed it on her back and arms. Anet thought of the many lands she'd read about, like the lands of the great steppes, far east. Kaisha's people came from there. They were fairer than she was, not bronze or olive like most Hybronians or the wild tribes in Hybron but not as fair as Helga. Kaisha had dark brown hair. Like her, Kaisha was an orphan. Anet still remembered the conversation between older sisters, one not made for her ears.

Kaisha's mother was a village girl kidnapped by raiders and violated by her captors. They traveled west along the trade route between the East and Egi. The girl escaped and was found by a scion of the citadel and taken to the citadel to stay until she gave birth. Unfortunately, the girl died in childbirth. No one could save her. Before dying she asked the scions to name the baby girl Kaisha, after the girl's mother. She was buried in a plot outside the citadel and Kaisha was raised by the scions. So many scions had such sad and dismal pasts. Anet wondered what would be their fates, all of them. Would she be a desert mother? An emissary or envoy of the citadel? Would she remain a scion and eventually become Mother of the citadel? Or would she eventually become a lord's wife with children of her own? There were different paths a girl raised by the scions could take if she were an orphan. It all depended upon the girl. Anet was told many times how fortunate she was. Most girls did not have any choice outside of the citadel. They were married off as soon as they started to bleed and in rare cases they were offered to a temple to become a priestess or a slave. Only the sun worshiping peoples had more freedom. Their women could even become arena fighters. But Anet did not want to fight ferocious animals unless she had a star sword. And star swords no longer existed. Only in legends did one hear about them. Most men that did fight in the arenas died horribly. She did not want to think of what happened to the women in the arenas of the cruel sun god, who loved blood and war and glory above all things. She thought that he must be especially powerful here because it was even hotter in this land than it was back home.

"Ow, Anet! Watch what you're doing!" Complained Kaisha. Anet giggled nervously.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me!"

"I was wondering if Hec was even stronger here than back home."

"Hec is strong everywhere there is war or fighting. He loves that, Anetji." Anet frowned.

"I am not little anymore. Do not call me that."

"Do not call you what? Anetji?" Kaisha teased.

"If you call me that again I am going to throw your precious salve out the window and you can burn under sun on the way back!"

"Fine. But I am still older, you know."

"I wonder if they have arenas here." Anet said to change the subject.

"Why? Those places are hellish! I heard that once they held games so bloody that the whole arena floor was awash in blood until there was a sea of blood and then the king floated ships on it and they had a ship battle on the blood sea!"

"I don't know about the ships but I am sure there was the sea of blood. Once I saw it, the last time we were allowed into the city, before the Ainash threatened to kill us. And the whole city stank for all that blood!"

"Jhis always stinks."

"I know."

"And I hate the Ainash!" Grumbled Kaisha.

"Me too!"

"What are you going to do when you get your blood, Anet?" Anet opened her mouth than closed it. She was still unsure. Kaisha turned around and looked at her, smelling like shea butter and olive oil. Anet sat back and frowned in thought.

"I don't know. Maybe a desert prophetess?" Kaisha's face was wide in wonderment at this.

"Only the most special people can be desert mothers, Anet, because no one has the gift. God does not bestow them upon the people anymore. None of us are good enough for that. Not even you!"

"Fine! I want to travel and see the world and I want to help people."

"It sounds like you will be an emissary. That would be good for you. I am going to get married and have lots of babies."

"Will you marry a lord, a scribe or a satrap?"

"Probably a lord. I am pretty enough. But Instructress Zipporah says she will teach me how to assist midwives so when I get married I can help the other Aishanna-La in the community where I will live. I hope my future husband will be one of the faithful, anyway."

"Queen Diti married someone who was not."

"Sometimes Mother Berenice says that things are done in a way to serve higher purposes and we do not always understand them until afterward. There was a reason she had to marry him. A good one. I just don't know why." This startled Anet. Kaisha actually heard and knew things that she had not. But it got her to wondering: what was her path? What would she do when the time came to choose?

The innkeeper's wife had sent four of her nephews to guard and watch over the younger scions in the stable loft. They stationed themselves outside the stable doors, their machetes at their sides, and a few older scions were lodged with the young ones as well. Supper was served late but it was wondrous all the same. The innkeeper's wife labored long and hard on it but she was happy to have them. It was like: " _A blessing from Galam'akmet._ " as she told them. Of course, any ailments the patrons had they begged for relief and the sisters gladly obliged. Mother Berenice was tireless in her efforts to heal and soothe pains and diseases where she could and gave healing words of comfort and blessings to those she could not. She and three older sisters had the subtle powers to heal the spirit and the body. Anet wondered of she could ever be that good and helpful. She did not think so and felt blue because of it. She could barely peel or cook potatoes and once, studying under Instructress Matha in making salves and healing potions she nearly burned down the workshop at the citadel. Matha did not get angry with her but she was soon given kitchen duty and scholarly studies which were less dangerous. There was a small stint where she ran messages all over the citadel and even through the town just outside the citadel walls. She'd loved that. Perhaps Kaisha was right. She might be primed for emissary work. Suddenly, she thought of the mysterious man on the ship. Would he come back? What did he want from her?

In any case, the meal was delicious and the hungry sisters, Anet especially, enjoyed every morsel. There were heaping bowls of goat stew with peppers and yam, sponge bread, local honey beer and a good barley beer imported from Egi – the innkeeper was very proud of this and saved it for special occasions. The youngest ones were given watered down beer with ice. Where they'd managed to get the ice from she did not know but Anet was thankful for it and drank several cups of it before she began eating. The stew was spiced differently but goat stew was goat stew no matter where they were. She and Kaisha beamed at each other in full-bellied happiness. The oil lamps were lit and helped fill the modest inn with a convivial glow. It was full of happy voices and even joyful bursts of song. She wondered why the sisters always said inns were bad. This one wasn't. The young sisters were given small bowls and then a large bowl of fragrant banana custard was set in front of them topped with chopped nanasi.

"We get these from the interior, sisters, these luscious fruits, bananas, pineapple, jackfruit. Enjoy!" The innkeeper's wife said.

"Iddina is this where you came from? This city?" Asked Anet. Iddina nodded.

"My family has since moved to a village south of here. We descended from the Makebites. Further in the interior there are great forests drowned in clouds as if the heavens have come upon the earth to rest. Great tangles of trees and plants, a land of only verdant green and blue and full of water. Beautiful! That is where the ancestors of the Makebites originally came from. There are also _savannahs_ of tall grasses, plains where the lion prides hide and also many animals you have never seen. There is a legend in Jura that at the end of the world, farthest south beyond the hot deserts and the humid forests there is a . . .what is the word? A _frigid_ land of snow and at the tip of the world there is a sea, now mostly ice. Long ago before the Age of Empires all of the South Lands were cold for most of the year. In a mountain lived Gikunda-giki, the great ice dragon made by one of the most powerful, evil sons of God, Lumu. The people there once kept the old ways of Yar-Airun but abandoned Him and went after other gods to worship, so He left them to their new gods. These new gods could not help them against Lumu. He created Gikunda-giki to plague the peoples who did not bring tribute every year. The dragon would rise from the great sea at the bottom of the world to terrorize the lands all around until the people cried out to God for relief. Galam'akmet, a messenger of God was sent to tame and punish the dragon. Galam'akmet brought the requested tithe. The dragon always requested man-flesh so he made straw people, clothed them and planted within them special quick-sprouting seeds – the seeds of many trees and plants. Gikunda-giki ate them and became very sick and each time that he let out foul, hot winds or squatted, instead of the deadly destruction that he usually wreaked, he fertilized the ground and the soil and where ever he went savannahs and green plains sprang up and forests grew. This vegetation and all that hot wind caused the lands to become warm. Enraged, Lumu tried to stop him but God took him and his dragon son and threw them both into the sea and blew His breath upon it, causing it to freeze over. There they are forever trapped." Anet and Kaisha and the other young sisters laughed out loud. Anet loved fables and legends. Everyone, no matter where they were had a different legend or the same one told differently.

"Did Galam'akmet have a star sword?"

"No. Only Ishuye from the Hybronian legends had a star sword. But remember, when God's arm is with you, any weapon is powerful. Even a word in prayer, but only those who are worthy of Him will wield that power." Now there was a new dragon she could put to memory. Gikunda-giki. She wondered if this was really the same dragon as the one in the Llordis sea. But Iddina was not finished.

"There is one thing that turns this tale into something more serious, young ones."

"What is that?" They all asked.

"There are some who reside in the far kingdom near the bottom of the world that still worship Lumu and Gikunda-giki. In the very face of the true God they would worship a demon and they do many terrible things in the name of that demon god. There is a certain point, called Calla, a monument, an altar to Yar-Airun at the edge of the great cloud forest that separates the southern lands from that place. Wise men do not go past that point. It has been decreed by God himself that that land is evil. Even those in the land that worship other gods fear to go there, as most never return. It may be legends to some but it is real to others and many legends come from something that was once true." This sobered everyone just in time for Night Prayers and the sisters gathered together with most of the patrons at the inn, the innkeeper and his wife and three sons and two daughters and they all bowed and prayed. The older women thought to go to the nearest temple but it was late and everyone was very tired. Having the scions in their midst was like having the temple right there among them.

The innkeepers girls, seven and nine cleared the tables and helped with the kitchen cleaning. They gave friendly glances at the young scions. She wished she could stay here longer. Perhaps she would have made more friends but it was not to be. Anet's eyes were heavy. She dragged herself back to the stables behind Kaisha, Sorrell, Nirka and the others and she lay down on her pallet next to Kaisha and Sorrell, listening to the night sounds of chirping insects. When she'd finally gone to sleep, she dreamed her strange dreams again.

Early the next morning she awoke late. The loft was aflutter with activity. They were getting ready to set off in a hurry.

"Why didn't anyone wake me?" She complained.

"Mother Berenice said not to wake you. To let you wake on your own."

"Oh." Anet had dreamed one of her odd dreams again and she could remember it clearly this time. She was running across the deep desert, over deep sand dunes, fleet as a gazelle. The sun, high above, was beating down mercilessly and all around she could see nothing but sweltering, red desert. She did not know why she was running or where she was running to. She finally reached the top of a hill and on that hill, dug into the sand was a small tent. She stopped and crept toward it. Just as she always did. Beyond the tent she saw the ruins of Assenna rise in the distance, in cloud and smoke, a fearsome sight. She went inside the tent. Deafening silence and darkness inside, a darkness even blacker than night and then she woke up. She had no idea what it meant but she'd had this dream many times now. Mother Berenice had told her before that recurring dreams were sometimes useful and sometimes in some people were messages from beyond the world. This did not make Anet feel comforted. She got up slowly, groggy from sleep running and packed her few things together in a small sack and put on her clothes and followed everyone downstairs. The heat was already rising and a few horses whinnied softly at the disturbance.

"Why are we leaving so soon? The sun isn't even up!" She complained.

"Shh!" Said Kaisha.

"Don't you shush me!" Anet spat back. Nitara frowned at her severely.

"Behave yourself, young one or you'll get a thrashing. We do not do things simply to annoy you. We have a good reason for it."

"What reason?" Demanded Anet. Nitara was only sixteen but often acted as if she were one of the instructors.

"When you've gathered yourself together and change your attitude you can ask Mother Berenice!" Nitara said peremptorily. Anet scowled fell into a moody silence. When they had gathered into the inn the morning meal had been prepared and laid out for them. They sat around Mother Berenice for Morning Prayers and then ate quickly the soured millet cereal with butter and a little honey. Carisse was looking very worn and ill. Anet worried for her. She was frail and of all the sisters did not recover so quickly from the sea voyage. In fact, none of them had really recovered. They were still fatigued so they were given quass to drink.

"Drink, Carisse. You will need it." Said Mother Berenice. She glanced at Anet and smiled. After the meal they were ready to go. They all thanked the innkeeper and his wife profusely.

"Mother Berenice, why are we leaving so soon?" Asked Anet later.

"I just heard word late last night that the king and half his army are in the city and more are coming. King Kufun is launching many ships toward Hybron. There may be difficulties, as we are Hybronian, you see. And many ships here will not be able to carry us home. The innkeeper feels it would be safer for us to leave as soon as possible. We will be traveling the Golden Road."

"Will we see many caravans full of gold and other jewels, then?"

"Perhaps." Anet was quiet for a moment. Then,

"Mother, I had another dream last night."

"Was it one you've had before?"

"Yes." She did not tell her of the vision of the ruins.

"So did I. I saw a vision of the Red King. It is interesting that we seem to have dreams on the same nights. Great things are in store for you, child. When you arrive back home you will start your training again. I myself have had visions about you."

"Training for what?"

"Something special. I do not know what it is yet, but we both will find out soon enough. Stay close to me and if you want, tell me of your dreams as you have them." A man came to retrieve the scions and they traveled with him to the city gate. Just outside was a great caravan waiting for them.

"There is no guarantee we will be allowed passage into the land because of the king's raiding!" Muttered one of the men. But when he saw the scions would be coming along with them his mood brightened. It brightened even more when Mother Berenice paid for their passage with the bottle of myrrh.

"Ah! What a good omen this is for a long journey!" Said their guide. His name was Yemi. Though Yemi was black like most Jurites he was not of Jura but from a land of the cloud forests, as Iddina mentioned. He, like the innkeeper and his wife, was shorter and broader than most Jurites. Anet was again fascinated by meeting new people and she was happy that her camel was next to his. After helping the women mount the camels and their baggage onto the asses, they were off across the plains - plains dotted with grasses and brush, ponds and water plants here and there, even white kata flowers that looked like large butterflies which turned colors in the evening and under the moons' light.

"Where do you come from?" Anet asked the guide. He looked at her, surprised by her boldness.

"I come from the city of Esofo from the land of Funda. It is ruled by a queen."

"A queen ruling? I've never heard of that! Doesn't a queen always have a king?" The man laughed.

"No little one, not always. There are a few lands that are ruled by queens. Mine is such a place. It is a wondrous place of green, verdant mountains and hills and many trees! So many trees and flowers that you cannot see the ground and there is no desert!"

"I want to see it!"

"You remind me of an ancient queen of Funda. She looked very much like you. She came from Hybron. She could even see visions of the future!"

"Really?" The man nodded, his eyes twinkling. Anet did not really believe him. She could not tell if he was teasing or not.

"How did she get there, to be queen?"

"She was a young princess and was married to the king of Funda but he died in battle and left her with one son. She ruled in her son's stead until he became of age to rule himself. She had to fight off many suitors and greedy people to protect the throne for her son. She was a fearsome woman."

"I will read about her when I get back."

"I do not remember her name, it was very long ago. But perhaps you will find her in your books, yes. It is said when she came to marry the king that she rode on the back of a _yaryebu_!" He teased.

"That's not true! _Yaryebu's_ do not exist anymore. Not since the Age of Creation. I wish they did though." But she was not quite sure.

"You really saw one?" She asked. He nodded.

"We go in the right direction if you want to see one. They live in very cold places. South at the very bottom of the world and north at the top of the world. They are covered in wooly fur and have tusks as long as towers. They are the forefathers of the elephanta. Once, they roamed in many places of the world. Until, as your people say, the Age of Empires."

"They must have been killed off." She said sadly.

"Mostly."

"Yemi, why did you come here?"

"I was sent by my family to study at Juranni, the center of all education in the South Lands. Great schools are there, where I learned the history of many of the south land peoples, art, literature and mathematics. Then I was sent to Hybron, to a school in Rhuctium to learn about architecture, medicine, alchemy and about how to map the stars and how to build wonderful machines, things only the ancient of ancients used to know."

"Machines? Like the moving machines that had their own life? I heard those were all destroyed in the Great Destruction. I wish I could see them now." She said.

"I do too. I have heard of this Great Destruction that took place in your land long ago. Badness was everywhere but some good things were swept away with the bad, it seemed. But perhaps we can uncover the good things that were swept away and bring them back. It is dangerous though. Not everyone wants that knowledge to come about."

"It is the fault of the Ainash. The Ainash hate anything that gives others more knowledge or power than them. They were part of the reasons why Assenna was destroyed."

"Ah! Little one, I do not know of what you speak but I have heard of these Ainash. It was they who stopped our schooling in Rhuctium, took away the ancient texts our teachers found in the ruins of Assenna and burned them. We were expelled and I fear what might have happened to our teachers." Said Yemi. Anet shivered. She could guess what might have happened.

"We're not allowed to speak of that or of the Red Kings in Hybron. People will think you are trying to curse them when you mention them." Anet lowered her voice.

"A curious thing. The Red Kings were known far and wide for their great wisdom, righteousness and justice. Under them everyone prospered and lived well and they ruled during some of the greatest achievements known to Man. They truly were the kings of the whole red world. Kings from far away lands would make pilgrimages to Assenna to learn from them. I hear there are many great things they built, still under the ruins of the city there. Secrets that many seek but they fear to go to the ruins. Those that go there lose their way and do not return."

"I have heard that too." Said Anet. She was determined to go there, to the ruins but she would tell no one. One day she would uncover the secrets that everyone whispered about but would not openly speak of. This superstition even affected some of the faithful. The very mention of the Red Kings was a curse and sometimes could have a man thrown in prison. Anet wondered what they had done to gain such fear and hatred in people. The Ainash were foremost in fostering this hatred and no one dared speak of them in an Ainash priest's or scribe's presence, less they be ostracized. Anet was determined to go there to defy them. Perhaps she would embark on her course in a great ship. Like the one she saw at Kukuma.

"Yemi?"

"Yes?"

"I saw a wonderful ship at the port yesterday. It was golden with silvery sails that appeared and disappeared in the air. It looked like it could sail in the air! Have you ever seen it?" Yemi drew a sudden, sharp breath in amazement.

"My, my! You have seen the fabled golden ship of Milukem. Hardly anyone ever sees it these days. Only those with great imagination see it now."

"What is it and who is Milukem?"

"Milukem was a sailor ages ago when Jura had another name, when it was the old kingdom of Nebur. Pirates often raided and killed in the cities up and down the sea and terrified the people. Milukem, a humble sailor, prayed one day that he would be able to help the kingdom and was chosen by God and king to wreak vengeance against those sea scoundrels. The king gave him a golden ship and he also asked his mother for help. She weaved sails out of spiderwebs for the ship, which meant that it would be a trap to those with wrong motives or those who were unsuspecting. Then he set sail, luring pirates out toward lost and unknown seas. So obsessed the pirates became with catching the ship, for they just knew it was full of mountains of untold treasures, that they always chased him down but he always escaped and the pirate ships that tried to give chase always sank. His ship became a powerful siren call and any pirate captain that saw it could not resist the chase. Pirates feared to come to the Dakanar Sea anymore for fear that they might catch sight of the golden ship. When he grew very old he asked God to let the mission continue indefinitely and so God set a sign in the heavens and made the ship sail the stars forever. Pirates to this day fear it but if anyone else sees it, it is considered a good thing. It usually means you have a goodly and righteous mission ahead."

"Oh. So it isn't real?"

"It was real, long ago. The memory of it is still real. The most important thing is this Anet, the golden ship represents the riches and blessings heaven bestows upon those who are humble and want to do the right thing for others. It is a scourge to those with wicked inclinations. Always guard your heart's intentions, Anet and you may see it again. It is a blessed sign."

They traveled across land that seemed to changed gradually before their eyes from plains of grass and the white kata flowers to more sparse land with low, shifting dunes. They passed by a lake, taking a little time to fill their waterskins. Yemi picked a flower for Anet and she giggled. The scent was light but fragrant like fresh linen and honey. The flowers were edible and often eaten as treats at home. Kaisha looked hungrily at it and she shared some with her. They crossed a low set of hills and in the far distance Anet spied the great monument, the mountain-sized pyramid temple with the arched doorway held up by massive white stone elephanta and its gleaming tip. It reminded her of the palace in Jhis, except the king's archway at the gate was held up by great red stone lions and there were many figures of lions painted in the stone. An imposing priest, like an ebony statue dressed in bright white robes and a golden turban stood like a sentinel in the doorway. The men in the caravan raised their hands in respect and he raised his and nodded curtly.

"Those are like the pyramids in Egi. Different from the ones in Zapulia, the ones with flat tops." Said Yemi.

"I did not see ziggurats in Zapulia." Said Anet.

"Mother Berenice tells me you all came from Yallas-by-the-Sea." He said. She nodded.

"We did."

" The ziggurats were built in Yallas, proper. In the valley city."

"I want to go there."

"You want to go everywhere!" He laughed. "Do you want to be a merchant or an explorer?"

"I do! Besides, I have seen those temples in drawings in the library."

"Have you, little one? You must have an extensive library in your citadel home."

"We do."

"Yet, I do not think you would want to go to Yallas by yourself. Make sure you are an old married woman."

"Why?"

"Their patron goddess is a serpent who requires the blood of many young people each year."

"Dana?"

"No. This is a far darker creature. Real gods require sacrifice. Always remember that. In time, in money, in life or blood and flesh. I understand the desire to see the world, yet take care. I perceive you are a bright child but from a sheltered home. To explore is a wonderful thing but there is no guarantee of comfort, of safety or mercy from anyone or anything." He opened his shirt and showed her a very long, terrible and ugly scar. It looked as if he had once been opened from neck to belly and then sewn together. She was so shocked she could only stare at it. Kaisha shrank back in horror and refused to look at him thereafter.

"I have traveled to many places in this world, some wonderful and some terrifying. I am fortunate I have lived to tell my tales." She grew quiet after that. Sometimes she thought God mean or indifferent when she had to do things she did not like or when He did not perform great signs when she thought He should have. Perhaps He was not so bad as that.

**Chapter Fourteen**

The Most Honored Lady Diti, still being the foremost woman in the land, even in her current demoted state had far greater independence than was thought prudent among some courtiers at the palace. She exercised it on rare occasions and this was one such occasion. She'd managed to convince the eunuch guard of the women, Ruz, to allow her to leave the palace grounds whenever she willed, without the king's consent or the knowledge of the courtiers. She was no longer the king's favorite and was considered too old to have children. This was enough for Ruz to turn a blind eye. _God is with me surely!_ she thought. This was urgent. She gathered her few trusted and loyal people around her.

Most Honorable Scribe Eliaz,

I shall send Fricka to you. Keep her with you until the letter is found and then have her bring it to me. Find that letter! May God cloak our cause, bless His name.

Most Honored Lady Diti

She had instructed Eliaz in her letter. That was days ago and now the King's Guard was busy turning out these families and putting them in the prisons. There was no telling if Eliaz could even get his hands on it. Diti had decided to create a distraction. The king would be arriving any day with his new bride but she felt she had at least some small sway with the people and though the king was dissatisfied with her, he held no ill will toward her. She broke into a sweat after she'd read Eliaz's letter. Her signet ring and the secret globe she kept, both of which also were homing beacons, lit up that night, telling her his mechanical hummingbird was searching for a resting place and had a message. Which truly alarmed her. The few who had such things used them only rarely but this told her that Eliaz did not trust anyone with the message. She remembered how it seemed to slip in and out of shadow. The mechanical birds could seem to disappear at times, depending on how the light fell upon them. She had her own bird, hidden in her interior room.

She would go to the arena prisons and speak to the arena master. She was not sure what would happen but if she could at least save the children. . .

A big commotion was made as she and her guards and her maidservant Zigal raced through the streets in her bronze chariot with her red stallions. She was dressed in her greatest finery, a wrap dress of gold and golden threaded veils and her circlet of electrum and lapis lazuli and diamonds. Her rings and gold armlets glittered. Her step chains tinkled restlessly from the speed of the chariot. The housewives and maidservants at the main water-well looked to see the great commotion and began whispering and wondering at the sight of the former queen riding by. They bowed as she passed and called out blessings.

"May you even live forever!"

"May the king realize his true queen!"

"Bless you our great lady of Hybron!" The chariot turned a corner and approached the arena, massive and monstrous. It stood like a threatening maw in the middle of the city. Uwain wheeled the chariot around and stopped. She and her servant woman climbed out. Her guards dismounted from their horses.

"My Lady Diti. . ." Sputtered a guardsman stationed at the doorway, surprised at her immediate presence.

"Amat! Take me to him." She commanded. He led them in. They descended deep into the bowels of the arena into the dungeons where men practiced in the fighting rooms and others slated to die waited in the prison cells. At the gate it was locked. They banged on the gate. Torches guttered slightly.

"Open the doors!" Uwain, the queen's guard, barked.

"Who is it? It is early yet!" Snapped a voice.

"It is the queen!" Said Uwain. Footsteps hurried at those words.

"The queen?" The voice called out, incredulous. Amat gazed at the queen and her guards at the door.

"Why, Lady Diti, I. . well. . ." Amat looked confused. "Why do you come to this place? Who are you here to see, my lady?"

"As if you did not know!"

"She is still Her Greatness!" Growled Uwain.

"It is all right, Uwain. I am queen no longer, even in name. Still," She said resting her gaze upon Amat, "I am here to see _you_. We will speak in private, Amat." Amat looked unsure but let them in, bowing nervously, clearly taken by surprise. He led them to a little room at the end of a hall. Ten candles were burning, the whole room was illuminated. Amat had been at his desk counting stones and recording his accounts in the clay tablets on the desk. She thought of each stone as a person he had been paid for, herded into these dank, filthy prison holes.

"My Lady Diti, if you would care to sit down. . ."

"I will stand, thank you. Let us get to the heart of the matter. It is unseemly for me to be seen about the city and even more, to be seen with a man who is not my husband. So, I come here risking my reputation and even my life on a grave matter. I would not do this otherwise." Amat's surprised expression turned into a suspicious look.

"Yes, my Lady?" He asked, looking from her to the guards.

"I was told that you were given instructions to put to death people of the Aishanna-La, those who have not paid the new temple tax."

"What? I have never received any such instruction! I do not know what you mean!"

"Come now! You were not given a box of gold for this? A promise of gold coins for men, silver for women and coppers for children? Do not lie to me."

"Who told you this?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I am afraid someone is filling your ears with false information. Who is it?"

"You will address me as my lady, nor will you question me."

"You are not queen. I take no orders from you and not from any woman!" He sneered. Diti's gaze did not waver and neither did his.

"I may not be queen any longer but the king is still my husband. The letter Shishak showed you was a forgery. Please believe me when I say that this letter was not from the king. This scheme does not have the approval of the king and yet it will be done in his name under his very nose at his own wedding celebration?"

"And why would it matter to him about some rabble who cannot pay their taxes? People are thrown in the arenas to die every week, _my lady_!" He sneered.

"It will matter when I tell him. For you see, he is born of the Aishanna-La himself, though he left. He will not look kindly on the massacre of these people in his name without his consent. The issue here is authority and King Khalit is a proud man with a quick temper and he expects swift obedience. He will not take kindly to subjects who have gone in with those who wish to usurp his kingship! With traitors!" She snapped.

"Surely you cannot mean this! Traitors? You are mad!"

"Am I? You may forge ahead if you dare but remember, Shishak and Teman are Ainash, first and foremost. They all despise you and all others who do not worship as they do. They are not above using outsiders to do their bidding but when the time comes for the truth to come out, YOU will be laid bare before the king. Do you have the letter they showed you in your possession? When you are questioned about this, how will you defend yourself? How will you prove they had anything to do with this? Someone will have to pay. It will either be the captain of the guard or yourself. Perhaps the Hatchet Men will pay you a visit to prevent the truth getting out about how they bribed you. Do not let them catch you up in their games Amat, because it will be you and your men who work in the dungeons burning as torches during the winter festivals, lighting up the grand streets of Jhis. A high price to pay for a box of metal rounds." This had the intended effect. The color drained from the arena master's face. Amat glanced frantically from her to her guards, licking his lips again.

"I do not know that you are telling the truth, my lady. As far as I know, I have received a royal command. You. . .you cannot stop that!" The sneer had fallen from his face and the derisive tone from his voice.

"But you did not receive a royal command. However, do as you will. Believe as you will. You are right, I cannot stop you. Just make sure you produce the king's letter when he inquires of you as to why you have done this and looks for this so-called official letter written in the king's own hand. No one but the king gives an order for execution. And especially of children." Amat's eyes widened like round clay tablets but he said nothing. Diti pulled her veils and mantle about her and readied herself to leave. Her servants glowered at Amat. The arena master dropped to his chair, looking up at them, pale and in a panic. She glanced around the dingy room with disdain and then fixed him with a hard stare.

"I wonder, Amat. How do you think you will die in here? You have seen many men go bravely to their deaths. How will you go? I wonder if this letter from the king will somehow disappear?" With that she left. Though she felt panic rising in her, she did not let it show.

"My lady, what can we do now?" Asked Uwain once they had ascended the stairs. Diti said a silent prayer. Then she suddenly had an idea.

"Uwain, take me back to the palace! I know what I shall do!"

"But Your Greatness, is it true? Did the king truly give this order?"

"No! What I say is true, Uwain. This order did not come from the king. Let it suffice to say that the one who told me speaks truth and would know."

"But does the king really care, Your Greatness?" Asked Zigal. Lady Diti shook her head.

"Who can really know? What I _do_ know is that he cares a great deal about his pride. If I make it a public matter, that will get his attention." They rode to the palace and Diti spoke to her most trusted maidservants about what was about to happen to her people and she began to weep. They tried to comfort her but she took off her jewelry, had them dress her in a long, plain black wrap gown that bared her shoulders and put a black mantle over her head and a black veil over her face. She turned to her maidservants and she said:

"If you care for me in my distress, join me in my grief. What evil seeks to remain private must be made public." She wore her circlet over the veil and had her guards take her to the royal square where she would be seen by everyone. She sent Zigal to hire the professional mourners and when they came, she and all her women servants and the mourners sat in the square and they prayed and fasted all that day and that night and when the call to Night Prayers came she and her women raised up a loud crying and wailing all that night and the next day in front of the people. It attracted many hundreds to her as they found it was the former queen. Then she got up and addressed the people.

"Listen, oh people of Jhis! Listen, for I have a controversy with the priests of the Golden Temple. A great evil will take place at the king's wedding. The priests have gone astray in their wickedness and scheme to kill their own. How much better will those who do not worship their god fare when they get a whim? We are none of us safe while this evil takes place!"

"Listen to my voice, my people! I do not weep for my fate. If it pleases the king to take another queen I do not dispute it but great evil is being done in the king's name when he is not here to defend it! I will defend it! Tell those that because the king is away does not give them them right to do bad in his name! Innocent people, men, women and children will be thrown into the games and how do you know your own families will not be next? The Ainash scheme to pour more gold into their temple! If you ignore this, perhaps they will come after your own families next! An order has been given by them to execute those who are poor, who cannot pay the temple tax. But will it stop there? Can men who grasp for power and receive it stop at one morsel? And will you be able to save your own hides? Has not the king rescued you from the evils of the Kushigyar and his men? Many of whom still live and serve in the Golden Temple?" She wailed. Soon such a terrible commotion was wrought that she and her women had the entire city in an uproar and as many people in Jhis did not trust the priesthood of the Golden Temple, they began to consider her words.

"The queen wails and weeps for the king! Let her be blessed and curse the Ainash!"

"Let the priests of Airend-Ur be cursed and go down into the dark fires of Helus!"

"The queen! The queen weeps! Hear her, oh people of Jhis!" Cried one of the Mourning Women. Diti had managed to whip up such a controversy that it reached the temple within a few hours that day and it was only just after sunrise. Shishak and the others, including the high priest became enraged. When he'd heard of the commotion, Amat hurried to the temple to tell them of her visit.

"Let her create her theater!"

"But the king is coming soon!" Cried Amat.

"And when he comes he will see a cast out, unwanted harlot wailing before him to put a stop to his new wedding. Do you think this will make him happy? He may very well hang the stupid woman on a stake!"

"But if I could only have a copy of the letter." Pleaded Amat. Shishak narrowed his eyes.

"You shall have a copy of it by the end of the day. I promise you."

"What will happen now?"

"We will put a stop to the arrests, temporarily. It is a delicate matter because of Lady Diti. Do not worry. We will handle her." Amat's face turned ugly.

"Be sure you do, _priest_! I do not like being crossed." He grunted and left, furious and fearful. Shishak sat back, in thought.

"What now?" Asked Teman.

"Let her make her controversy. When the king arrives with all his retinue and sees this, he will put her to death for dishonoring him." Said Shishak.

"Or he may listen to her and demand to see what this is all about. Or Amat and the captain of the guard could turn on us."

The Herald of King Khalit went riding before them and came to the city as far as the West Gate and when he got to see the commotion the entire city was in, he was aghast.

"What is the meaning of this lawlessness! What is happening here?" He demanded. "The king is less than two days from here! What is all this?"

"It is the queen!"

"The queen? She has not yet arrived!"

"It is a matter between Lady Diti and the Golden Temple." Said one of the King's Guard at the gate.

"Queen Diti! Queen Diti!" He heard everyone chanting which flustered and angered the herald.

"You men!" He shouted at the King's Guard, "contain these people! I will get to the bottom of this." He took his own men and went to the royal square. With great difficulty they took the queen and brought her before the head of the chief tribunal of the city to question her.

"Why have you created this disturbance, Lady Diti? And near the eve of the king's wedding and all his vassals here in the city! Do you think to dishonor him?"

"My lords! You are all well aware that the king has chosen a new queen. It is not that, that I object to, but to an order that the priests of the temple have said comes from the king. A letter with his seal, yet one that he did not sign or seal at all."

"What letter do you speak of?"

"An order of execution for those too poor to pay the new temple tax."

"How do you know this is not from the king?"

"I know because it is being carried on in secret. The king would never carry on a thing like this in secret. This thing has been done while he was away. If he has ordered the execution of hundreds of people at his wedding I would have learned about it at court well before now. This order did not come from the king."

"And how did you come to know of this letter?"

"I cannot tell you."

"Then it would seem, my lady, that we have a problem. We cannot investigate if we do not know." Said one of the judges, smugly.

"I appeal to the king himself!"

"He will not see you." Said the chief judge.

"He will see me on this matter! I appeal to the king when he arrives! I shall appeal to him in front of the people that this great badness should not be done!" She did not trust the tribunal. There were Ainash supporters among them. Yet, not all had love for the Ainash. One spoke up, an ancient man, a worshiper of the sun god.

"Let the queen alone. If her cause is right, things will be sorted out. If she be wrong she will be punished, yet, I think she may be right. I say she must see the king, if he consents." The chief judge tugged at his beard for a few moments, thinking on it, his gray brows furrowing in deep thought. Then he nodded.

"The Most Honored Lady Diti shall have the right to appeal to the king on the matter." His voice was the final word on the matter until the king arrived. Diti was escorted back to her house. As she was taken away she heard the riots as the city was in turmoil over the looming fate of many families.

"Curse the Ainash! Curse the Ainash!" They screamed. Diti really had no idea what the king's reaction would be or whether she herself would be thrown into the furnace for her actions but she had risked everything and now all she could do was wait and see. Later that evening, as she gazed out of the windows from her room she heard the soft pattering of Fricka's feet. She turned and saw that something was in Fricka's pack. It was exactly what she'd hoped Demos and Eliaz would find. She took the letter from Fricka, read it and hid it beneath her veils. She called for her guards and commanded them to have the herald come see her immediately.

**Chapter Fifteen**

The Citadel was small as fortresses went and stood right at the front of the hill. It was the first building one saw when entering the town. There was a gate that was closed each night and anyone coming or going could be seen from the hill by its denizens. Gamina, the town and the land around it, had always been a peaceful place and its land nearly as fertile as Zapulia's famed orchards and vineyards. Gamina also had vineyards and always since old times had given a tithe of wine and wool to Hybron, back when the old kings ruled, in exchange for protection from raiders and foreign occupation. Later, during the times of the city-state skirmishes between Jhis and Yallas-of-the-Valley, the forces of Yallas twice tried to annex Gamina – and failed. Of all the intermittent wars and battles in these lands, Gamina, it was said, was blessed with peace. A peace attributed by the people of Gamina to the holy women at the citadel.

Along the journey Ilim felt freer than he'd ever felt in Jhis. There was much talk of the prophecies among the people of the land and when they would see their fulfillment. Ilim's new mission only stoked these fires. After ten days of travel they finally spotted the hilly, green terrain along the southeastern border of Hybron and the little fortress town of Gamina. A small group of shepherds were making their way up the hill toward the town gate, their flocks of sheep milling around about them. The small caravan followed behind the flock for a little ways and then Ilim finally parted ways with them when they'd reached the bottom of the hill.

"We will see you again Ilim, if God wills it. You are always welcome among the Raea. May your steps upon the sand always be blessed!"

"I thank you! I thank you for your kindnesses upon a humble man!" They went on their way further south and Ilim followed the shepherds up the hill.

Ilim's arm bands were itching him and he was tired. As they passed through the gate high above on the parapets he saw a strange sight that nearly stopped him cold. He saw women dressed in their long, flowing skirts and mantles with bows in their hands and quivers on their backs.

"Women allowed to carry weapons?" He exclaimed aloud. He knew sometimes some tribal women would fight if necessary but women from the cities? It galled him. They stared down at him just as intently as he stared up at them. Upon entering the town he saw soft, rolling hills and what looked like a small lake in the distance and small gardens. The town was nearly covered in greenery as if the green plains all around it were encroaching the desert. The town was alive and bustling, if a bit more primitive than he was expecting. Women were gathering water by the central well and laughing and talking. Most people smiled but did not molest him. He could see the blue-veined purple sunset atop this hill, a dramatic, panoramic sight from the hill town. He went up the steps to the huge wooden and iron doors of the citadel. Above was a written passage carved in the stone above the door: " _Blessed is the woman of God._ "

"The Sayings of the Desert Fathers, the book of Emah 6:29. Blessed indeed." He knocked. And knocked. Finally, the door opened, slowly. A dour looking old scion gazed at him. She looked at his robes and confusion grew on her face. Then suspicion.

"Who do you seek? We rarely get visitors."

"I am Ilim Gulin na-Shayin, once a temple priest of the Ainash. I am here to see someone named Anet. Surely you must have heard that I was coming?" The woman's expression turned to incredulity and then a slow realization seemed to settle on her face.

"Well woman, what will it be? Will I be made to sit out here all day in the hot sun?" He snapped.

"Oh no, no! Come in, come in!" Ilim was relieved. He was very tired. She ushered him inside and down the hall.

"Mother Berenice has told us of this moment!"

"Where is she? I must speak with her."

"She has not arrived back. She is on a mission-journey and the sisters are late. We were expecting them back several days ago but we have not seen them."

"What about the girl?"

"Anet is with them. They were in Zapulia last I heard. But we got message that the Hatchet Men, ever thorns in our sides, were seeking to kill them and they had to go by sea." Ilim grunted in dismay. The Hatchet Men were one more black mark on the temple. He hated them. Thieves, idlers and murderers put to use by the Ainash.

"Hatchet Men! A curse on them! The women up there," he motioned to the ceiling, "are they there because of them?"

"Yes. We always have to be vigilant against them."

"So they had to go by ship, you say?"

"Yes. We have not heard from them since. God be good to them, they will be safe where ever they are."

"I perceive they must be making their way here and not lost. I had a vision and I was told to come here to seek the child, to train her."

"What vision, my brother?"

"I have been given a sign and a commission. I must denounce the Ainash in the city of Jhis, where the great temple is. God has left them. This child will be important in God's purpose in removing corruption and evil in the land."

"Denounce the Ainash? You are _the_ Ilim, the one who creates trouble for them?"

"I am. I do not know whether I shall survive this commission but we will see. What is your name?"

"Ava. I make and mend the clothes and tend the looms here in the fortress. I am sorry but I have been talking too much. Come and let me show you the sleeping quarters. Mother Berenice arranged a separate small house near the gardens for you. I shall have someone bring fresh water and food. Come!" The woman chattered on endlessly it seemed to Ilim and it took all his patience not to snap at her again but finally she brought him to his quarters and left and he set about making himself at home. It was a one room house, solid enough, built of unmortared stone with a small fire pit for warming and cooking, a long sturdy table, a chair and a small bed with some rough blankets and one window covered by a thick, worn tapestry. On the table there was a small supply of candles wrapped in cloth and tied with a strip of cotton and a wide, shallow, fired-clay vessel filled with water. He immediately rolled up his garment and washed his arms and hands and then he put the vessel on the ground and washed his feet. In a dark little corner he heard the rustling of mice. There was a strong, musty, old smell to the house which signaled to him that it had been a very long time since anyone had resided in it. It made him think on his commission. It was an age since a message had been brought to the people of Hybron. The land was rotten with corruption and like this house, had to be swept clean. He wondered how he would tell his message to the people. It would not be a message anyone wanted to hear but he had no intention of shrinking back. He also wondered what this child was like. He had never mentored a girl, only boys and men, being as they were smarter and could learn faster. Everyone knew this. Yet, if God said that she was his next one to train, that was that. Ilim had found many things strange recently. The very atmosphere of the land was charged with destiny. Prophecy was on everyone's lips, whether they looked forward to it or feared it. He looked to the future as a distant but bright star in the night. He wanted that light to shine upon the whole red world. Others wanted to hide from it or stamp it out. He used to wonder why Khalit had not been the one to bring about the new era. Now he was bringing in a new queen, one from a strange culture. Would this child really come from her? It chilled him, briefly. Ilim was still unhappy over the fact that the Divine Purpose would not be worked out between Khalit and Diti. In his mind, she was a most excellent woman. There could be none better. He sighed and wandered outside. The sun's waning light still held on to dusk but the stars were peeking through the sky and it was turning from soft violet to blue-black. From his little hill on the citadel grounds he could see a small herd of sheep settling down in their stone pen for the night. The little houses dotted the town between gardens, workshops and roads. A wild dog barked somewhere far away. Ilim plucked a few long grasses and began chewing them. The Festival of Firsts would be upon the land soon. People from many places near and far would be traveling to Jhis. Some would travel to the citadel instead. He saw that the women were busy making preparations for this very occasion. A figure was approaching a small distance away. One of the older girls of the temple. She was carrying a large bundle of firewood. She was paler than most of the women in the citadel with jet black hair and black almond shaped-eyes. He called to her.

"My daughter!"

"Yes? I am sorry, who are you?"

"I am Ilim. I am here to see Mother Berenice, when she arrives."

"Oh, yes. Greetings to you, my father."

"What is your name, child?"

"Irtal."

"What sort of name is that?"

"I am from the north. Where the sands turn to ice and snow and the dunes to mounds. My name means 'waiting'.

"A beautiful name. It would seem we all are waiting for something to happen."

"Yes, father." Said Irtal.

"I wonder, my child, do many people come here for the Festival of Firsts?"

"People in Gamina come here instead of traveling to Jhis. Or it used to be that way. But lately we have noticed more people from far away coming here instead of traveling to Jhis. Once we even had a dear family travel all the way from Egi. They refused to even enter Jhis."

"Did they say why?"

"The Ainash have made it more difficult for the people. Especially for foreigners. They offend the people. I remember hearing once from a man who had come here with his family for the festival that in order to even enter the temple they had to have many coppers or some gold or silver and if they did not they had to stand at the foregate for most of the festival. Not once were they allowed into the temple for the deep readings and instructions nor for prayers in the morning and night nor the healing pools. They could only attend the public Morning and Night Prayers in the main courtyard. The temple is the heritage of all those who worship God but it has been taken from us. I hear that those who refuse to pay the new temple tax are now being punished with death."

"Ai! What? I have not heard so!"

"You have been away for a long time, father. Many things can happen in a few weeks. We have birds that bring messages from everywhere so that we might know what is happening in the land. The Ainash have made it punishable by death not to pay it. Many of the people, of course, cannot pay. It is a way, I suspect, for them to winnow out the poor from the temple. Those who are unable to pay, it is said are being sent to the arenas to be torn apart in the games – for the king's wedding celebrations." Ilim was aghast.

"Who was this letter from?" He finally said when he recovered.

"From the Lady Diti. But do not let anyone in Gamina hear you call her "lady". She is still the only true queen as far as they see it."

"Blessed be Lady Diti, but has no one said anything in their defense?" Cried Ilim.

"She found out through one of the priests loyal to the old ways." He knew immediately who it was.

"Also, Lady Diti has caused a controversy in the city. She went wearing clothes of mourning, fasting and weeping and sitting herself in the marketplace in front of all the people. Many of the women came to weep with her and now the whole city is in an uproar and the king will be back any day now with his new bride. What will happen, I do not know and what she can accomplish with this? I fear for her." The girl's eyes brimmed with tears.

"The king will think it a ploy to derail the wedding or set the people in opposition to him."

"You think so?"

"I helped raise him. I know his pride. I hope I am wrong. Here Irtal, let me carry these for you, child." He took the bundle of wood from her arms. "Great is the Lady Diti for doing this in behalf of the people. What she has done could put her in the fires but she has risked her life for the innocent. I pray He will protect and keep her. Daughter, may I see this letter?"

"I think I can have one of the sisters in charge of Mother Berenice's study find it for you." Ilim was stunned at the events that had taken place in just a few weeks and now the wedding was mere days away. In all this, he was now to give severe denouncements. Things were becoming darker indeed. Yet, there was at least one thing that brightened his sinking mood. He could smell the pungent and delicious scent of the evening meal cooking.

"It would seem the temple is completely bereft of godly things now." She said sadly.

"Yes, it is."

"But not here. Here we do what God has instructed and we do not show favoritism toward those with wealth or power. There is no love, joy or peace at the grand temple, beautiful as it is, but there are the foundational stones from the Golden Temple that have been laid here in the citadel's foundation, though our citadel is mean and primitive."

"There are?"

"Yes," she said, nodding, "when the original desert mothers came here they found buried here old tablets that partially told of how it was constructed and that there was a note saying that some of the stones in its foundation came from the Golden Temple."

"Interesting. I have always wondered who built it. That is very interesting, indeed. Do you have a priest who comes to read the Holy Words for the crowds?"

"No brother." Then she looked at him pointedly. "But we do now?" She smiled. "Would you take the lead for us when the festival comes?"

"I would be happy to. It does not surprise me that more people trickle here. It is a good thing, my daughter. It is a good thing."

"The wild tribes do not ever come for the festivals. Do you know why?"

"The tribal people that follow the old ways have their own "temples". One day, everyone will worship at the great temple, one that is clean and free from corruption."

"We look forward to that day, father. Ah! Supper is ready. There is cold water, soft eggs in pepper and tomato soup and bread. We have no meat for supper as Medeah is saving what meat is left for the festivities of Holy Week."

"A wise decision. I can smell it and I am glad to hear it." Said Ilim. They walked back to the citadel in silence, ready to eat.

That night God began speaking to Ilim as to what he must say to the people of Jhis, saying: _This is the Holy Word of Airend-Ur, your God, and this is what you must say to the people: "Oh people of Jhis, pay attention that you may live. A new king is coming and to the old ways he will turn and he will turn the temple back to the ways of God, the ways of Airend-Ur, for the keepers of the law have sinned and prostituted themselves for gold and for silver and they must face destruction. . ._

**Chapter Sixteen**

It was a long, hot journey but Anet managed to entertain herself by relentlessly questioning Yemi and he did not seem to mind. He was amused and obliged her. He told her of all his travels from the far north and his dealings with two northern tribes, the Ostrites who worshiped an ice and wind god and the Petra who worshiped Airend-Ur, by a different name. He recounted his treks through the western mountains, of seeing the secret rivers that flowed from there, his journey to the Great Ridge Lands in the vast rift canyon where it was said that one could stand on one side of the rift without seeing the other side. He told her of the dark forests below in the mighty gorge that hid the mysterious lands of the Valierite peoples. There were lands in the Great Ridge engulfed in forests and great monstrous beasts called _bullbears_. He told her of his travels to the great steppes east of Zapulia where the unknown wild tribes often intermarried, raided the villages, travailed north and fought with the Ostrites and Petrites, and were expert horsemen. He told her of strange, giant plants in his homeland that trapped and ate animals and humans if they could get them and of massive snake like-vines in the woods of the far east that would grab and choke any creature that came too close, swallowing them whole. There was the Dragon of the Llordis sea who demanded tribute before he allowed anyone to pass and once they really did throw a murderous thief overboard for the dragon to eat and were then allowed passage. There were many other things he spoke of, both wondrous and dark. It invigorated her imagination to think how vast the world was. Finally, though, her thoughts turned back to the dark parts of his tales. She glanced at his chest, thinking of the scar he'd once shown her.

"Your scar. How did it happen?" Yemi looked at Mother Berenice. Mother Berenice had listened quietly to all this and did not interfere. She remained silent still.

"I was in Yallas-of-the-Valley, purchasing spices at a merchant's stall. It was night. Men came that night looking for human sacrifices, posing as mendicants of some minor temple. I will not go into detail as later you may come to know many terrible things done for blood-thirsty gods, if you live long enough. There were many fresh corpses that had been thrown down the steps of the temple already when I was taken there. It was horrifying and the same was done to me. But men found me, men from a far away land and they were on a mission, I found out later, to save many people who had been taken."

"But how did you survive that?"

"You see, there was a moment when my whole soul cried out to any god who would listen, a deep soul cry that is difficult to explain, born of terror and agony when you are given up, the moment before you die. I believe He heard my distress and His power kept me alive, a sort of half-death for a little while. It is a terrible experience for you can feel the pain of your heart being taken from you, torn out. These men took those of us they thought they could still save and with their skill of healing and wondrous machines they gave us new hearts." At this he opened his shirt tunic again and just beside his scar with the skin stitched together like a bad patchwork quilt he opened a large flap of tough skin. Just below the flap of his breast she could see an odd, red thumping thing; a hole was in his chest with a criss-crossing of glowing tubes of blood and attached therein, a metal thing. His heart. It frightened her. She started to wonder if he was cursed.

"It is not demonism or witchcraft little one, but high medicine. From men of the Far Eastern lands. People demonize the wrong things today. There are times I feel as if people who see my new heart feel that I should have died instead of being saved by a machine. I am a freak of nature. Sadly, among many of my own people I have become an object of reproach. They fear me and say that I have a demon. So, I travel constantly these days. Always I am looking for those whose minds are open." The tone in his voice had changed from animated to pensive.

"What _is_ that?" She whispered.

"A machine heart. The first of its kind, I am told." Anet was astonished at this revelation for the entire day and this finally rendered her speechless. She remained silent, thinking of all he said. He was saved from a demon by a machine. But did not God save? Why did He not simply make him a new heart? She would have to ask Mother Berenice because this confused her. Still, he was fascinating and did not seem daunted by the terrible thing done to him. He fought to survive and he was not bitter nor did she hear him curse the gods or the First Pillar for this. Was this the strength Mother Bernice said was needed for the faithful? How could she be strong like that? She would pray for strength like Yemi's in tonight's prayer. She would also pray that horrible things would not happen to her or the people she loved and hoped God listened. She was quiet that evening as they broke for camp, as the wild rams grunted and lept upon the crags on far away hills and cliffs in the distance. It reminded her, distantly, of the blowing of the horns for Night Prayers back home.

They slept under the vast sky full of stars glittering like precious jewels. There were the soft grunts of the camels and asses, a few whistling calls between the guides getting ready for the first watch and the flickering, licking blossoms of the fire. They ate dried meat and bread, drank water and a hole was dug away from camp for toilet. After eating and relieving themselves they all went down for sleep. Anet watched as Yemi and a few of the men took the first watch. She had seen and learned many things that could not be learned from books, scrolls, tablets and idle gossip. She had once heard of machines or the "tinkering things", as Instructress Helga called them, here and there. Most people looked upon them with disdain, even as an evil. Once she thought she saw a tiny, tinkering bird of gold in Mother Berenice's study room. It had flown in with a message, a duty usually reserved for falcons. But it was gold like precious jewelry with little sapphires for eyes. A marvelous thing! It had a tiny perch in a small golden cage in the study. She never told Mother Berenice that she saw it. Most people did not like these things, seeing them as evil magic but the scions did not see them as such. Only Helga, who came from the very lands that some of these things were still known to be built, disapproved of them. Not because of evil magic but because she said they made people lazy. And that they were extraordinarily expensive.

"I have seen many a man become soft and fat as a pregnant woman using all manner of machines, until his own godly-made machine could not work any longer. A shame for a man to forget himself so! They cost many a copper that could be put to better use!" Anet could hear her stern, scolding voice in her head. Instructress Helga had said that people began to dislike them because during the Veiled Age, at the height of their use, they made people not want to work and some of their uses enslaved innocent people and this fact morphed, told and retold through the ages, was finally twisted into the saying: "Machines are the works of demons and monsters who want to enslave and destroy their fellow man." Instructress Iddina also defied this superstitious reasoning. She said that the machines themselves were not wrong but it was how they were used that became wrong. Much like a machete, a sword or even a ship, a machine was a thing, not good, not wicked. Each could be useful for good purposes or used for evil ones. In fact, there was an old scroll that Iddina once read to her and the other young sisters. A crumbling thing now gone to ash it was so old, but it was about the first Red King and the great inventions people made during his reign. But it was only one scroll. One of the scribal scions made a permanent copy of it on clay tablets. Most information about the Red Kings and the things they did was forbidden in Hybron. Knowledge of them had been destroyed by the Ainash and also the priests of the temple of Hec. Sometimes Anet thought the Red Kings were a fairy tale but the holy book itself mentioned them and even a few of these kings put their own writings in the Holy Aishanna. And only the scions she was told, had the entire Aishanna of God. Most others of the faith only had parts of it, the "proper" parts. Anet felt her eyes finally growing heavy with sleep and she finally fell asleep into dreams. Dreaming of that strange, metal beating heart surrounded by waves of blood as high and violent around her as a stormy sea and out of these the strange man on the voyage rose with robes as white and bright as stardust, riding the great golden ship with silvery sails and he had the look of the sons of the gods and he reached out his hand to her but she grew afraid and did not reach for it but drew back and found herself drowning.

**Chapter Seventeen**

The herald gazed at her intently and then back at the letter. Was this letter from the king or was this woman lying? He needed to know, yet all of this had erupted at such a terrible time. The king would be enraged no matter how this would come out. Still, Lady Diti was not known to cause controversy. Perhaps the woman was misguided?

"I am on my way to meet with the king. I shall take it to him myself. We will see what he makes of all this."

"I thank you, Master Caina. Please, let only the eyes of the king see this letter and no one else, and keep a strong guard about you until the letter is delivered to the king, along with my message." Master Caina readied himself and his men and they left the city to rejoin the royal procession. Before leaving, he made sure to have the King's Guard quell the riots and mayhem by standing in the square and reminding them that the king and his new bride and his army and her family's army were only hours from the city. This threat finally calmed the crowds, along with some bashing of heads and flogging of a few rebels as an example.

"Do you not know how much he has done for you? That you should now rebel against his rule and rise up against him? Let the matter of the Most Honored Lady Diti be tried before the tribunal and the king when he arrives, for he is a just king, as you well know and is father of the city. Do not risk your lives but let the matter be handled by the king and the judges and you must go to your homes!" Though this seemed to work, the unrest had already revealed dangerous undercurrents. The blood and dirt of the city had been stirred up and had brought to a head simmering anger and a multitude of old resentments.

The king's procession met with the bride's caravan and now both were traveling back to Jhis. The bride's family had spent obscene amounts of gold on a fabulous procession. There was a large group of dancing girls riding before the bride on a barge dripping with lilies and katas, a barge of a great golden lion pulled by tawny horses, one of a falcon pulled by gray horses, hundreds of marching Egian soldiers decked in silver, wearing the twin moons emblem on their helmets and carrying a great standard of the silver twin moons with a falcon carved in the lower moon. There were servants dressed in fine linens and silks, many great elephanta that would be used in the games, all decked in garlands of white katas and atop those sat the tents of the king's administrators, the bride's personal servants and family and finally, in the back there was the great float of the queens of the heavens, Nimnet, patron goddess of Egi and the queen mother, Elyshe. This float was the most beautiful, statues of the goddess sitting in serene repose in gleaming silver and her mother standing behind her with the same face of serenity. Inside this was the bride herself. There were many foot-soldiers in the front and the rear of the procession carrying pennants of the lion in red and gold. It was a massive sight and could be seen from far off by those at the city wall.

Master Caina finally reached them. He hailed the procession.

"I must speak with the king, there is a message for him! It is of dire importance!"

"Go, then, to the king. There he is, riding." Pointed one of the commanders. Farther up, the king, riding upon his red stallion saw that his herald had come back. He called to him.

"Caina! What are you doing here? Did I not send you ahead to tell the people of my coming? Why have you come back?"

"I have a message for you, my king!" Caina raced his horse back to meet him.

"This letter here is for you. It is said that you wrote this letter with your own hand and sealed it with your seal." He wheeled his horse around and rode up beside the king and handed him the letter. King Khalit took the letter. He looked it over, then tore open the seal and read it. His face furrowed in a deep frown.

"I do not recall giving any such orders before I left." He shook his head.

"Treachery may be at work here, my king."

"Treachery indeed! It is not my hand that this was written in and I did not seal this! I never gave any such order! Who gave you this letter?"

"The Most Honored Lady Diti found it. She says that it was forged by the Ainash priest Shishak and another man, Teman, a scribe of the Golden Temple. She created a great commotion among the people over it. When I had returned the city was rioting over this very matter, my king. What do you think? Do you believe her?" The king was silent for a long moment. His face darkened.

"Rioting. Does she think to humiliate me? I do not know what to think of this, yet. But I am not inclined to believe she would make this up. I will get to the the bottom of the pot when I arrive. For her own sake, she had better be telling the truth!" He said, folding the letter up and putting it away. Then he smiled a wicked smile.

"What, my king?" Asked Caina.

"I have seen and heard the schemers for quite some time and I have learned a small thing if nothing else, from them. The Ainash want to play a game, do they? I shall cast a piece they do not expect on the board, then." He glanced back at the great looming float in the back of the procession, his expression oddly ambivalent.

"The Ainash are as bad as the Egians. My bride's father would enjoy such a game. Of that, I am sure."

**Chapter Eighteen**

Before the king left the city the word was sent to all the officials of the city and the land all around and to the priests of the major temples of the land. Now that the king was arriving, tens of thousands were gathered and all were looking forward to the festivities that would unfold over the next several weeks. Even with the recent commotion. Flower sellers were doing brisk business, especially for the procession.

Thus, came the new queen of King Khalit into Jhis.

First came the one hundred dancing girls in their glittering veils with ribbons of silk they wound and fluttered about themselves in graceful movements. Then the impressive marching of the battalions, Hybronian and Egian. First the charioteers, then foot soldiers, two thousand in all their finery bearing the standards of both lands, the lion and the falcon moon. Then the great barge of the lion pulled by mules and the float of the queen's family of the falcon, next the long line of elephanta, their tusks decorated in garlands. The people threw flowers at the grand procession, cheering. The towers on top of these elephants waved from side to side and sitting within them were the queen's father and extended relatives in wooden benches on these towers, waving to the crowds. Finally, from the arched way of the city gate was the last barge, the barge of Queen Taliat who was sitting on a throne between the images of the goddess and goddess-mother. She sat atop her throne looking like a delicate white flower mirroring the repose of the goddesses and she was even more beautiful than the former queen. Her hair was long and black as raven's feathers yet she was pale as alabaster with dark eyes and her lips were scarlet, painted with kohl and crushed red beetle. She wore a silver headdress of a falcon and white wraparound dress of delicately woven linens that exposed her shoulders and a silk belt around her waist with many step chains of silver around her legs and silver and gold bracelets on her arms. She was still as stone as the crowds and they roared with pleasure at the sight of her. It was an impressive sight and cemented the power of these two families at court, the lion and the moon falcon. The crowds, only a day before enraged and riotous over the words of Lady Diti and her mourners were now cheering just as passionately for their king and his new bride. Garlands and flower petals filled the air like snow. Shaikhs and valiant, mighty men of the Karig entered from the opposite way down the main street, aloof and prideful. They were some Khalit's brothers and uncles who remained desert men, dressed in their wild finery of furs, bones and leathers and long black beards and hair. They came to pay their respects. It would be a momentous affair for the next several days.

"It would seem the people love their queen." Said Khalit proudly to Bakku. The messenger-courtier bowed and smiled obsequiously. He'd invited Bakku to ride with him the last league into Jhis. Bakku seemed elated to be able to be seen with the king on this auspicious day.

"Indeed, Your Greatness, they do." Bakku was all grin and merriment as he glanced from side to side at the joyous crowds.

"You did well with this match, Bakku. You shall be duly rewarded if she gives me a son." Everything hinged upon this but Bakku was not worried. The Strabians had ways of doing things to get exactly what they needed.

"I am sure she will provide the needed son, my king."

"There is another matter I will have to deal with and I would like you to be present, Bakku."

"Oh, my king?"

"Oh, yes. It concerns a letter I received some hours before. You were sleeping in your palanquin when this letter came to me. I think you will find it quite interesting." He said, staring pointedly at Bakku. The king had stopped smiling and his expression hardened. Bakku smiled and bowed again slightly, but wondered at this. A slight nervousness now began to set in, though he was expert at smoothing over any inner turmoil. His face was a mask of pleasantness but inside his thoughts began to roil like the sea. _What letter_?

. . .

Lady Diti could hear the raucous cries and cheers as the royal procession came down the main boulevard. She had Zigal simmer a large pot of herbs. The perfumed steam calmed her nerves. The king was back. Surely he had the letter! What would happen now? Would he punish her? Laud her or just ignore her? Those innocent people! She wished could have done more. And the children! She shuddered to think what would happen to them if the false edict was not rescinded by the king. She had seen too many brothels full of children. Then there were the slave camps and slave ships. She wished at times the city would burn down simply to get rid of such abominations. She lay on her divan holding in a sickness in her belly.

"Zigal, it is not a good thing to be a queen in this age."

"Yes, my lady."

"I wonder if this new one will satisfy him?"

"She may, my lady."

"A Strabian woman. They do not even see the light of day, do they?"

"It is said. Or, it is true for the noblewomen among them. Keeps them paler than the rest of us. And naive. The wealthy families prize that sort of look. There are also other strange things about them."

"Like what?"

"I have heard more than once that they never age. At least not like other women do." Diti laughed half-heartedly.

"Well, she should keep him happy for a long time indeed." Zigal, ever serious, did not laugh.

"Do you wish to win back his favor, my lady? I could go and get a look at her. . ."

"No. I am tired of that. Let the other concubines contend with her. My interests lie with protecting those few Aishanna-La left within the realm. If I can."

"It is good God chose you, my lady, to come here. I fear we all would have been wiped out if not for you. But I think your time here is at an end. You must not stay here. You must leave soon, my lady."

"I thank you, Zigal but it took the actions of more than one person. Besides, I believe there is more I can do. Much, much more. I have no intention of being chased out of the palace. I was once queen here and many still remember and respect that." Diti said, bristling. Then she changed the subject. "I hear that she worships a moon goddess." Zigal's shoulder's fell. Her face darkened.

"The Mother-daughter moon goddesses, Nimnet and Elyshe, yes, my lady."

"I wonder if a new temple will go up in their honor?"

"It will cost much ladre, I am sure. Perhaps you should send out Fricka, my lady. To watch things, to see how it will go for us."

"I plan to do so. But first I must send a letter."

"I worry for you, my lady. If you can go back to the citadel and live would that not be safest?"

"Zigal, I stay for the people, for the Aishanna-La. They need me here to watch over them. There is also something else."

"Personally, I feel they should have left this city long ago. Jhis is a poisonous den, my lady."

"And where should they go, Zigal? Is it a simple matter to just move?"

"No, but it is better than living among serpents and wolves. Even our own priesthood hates us and there have never been easy relations between the Aishanna-La and the worshipers of the sun god and now that the king is here and the games begin I fear things will ignite. Most families I know have moved to Rhuctium or Haiga or moved west to Rhe or even intermarried with the wild tribes that roam the plains and the deserts. Gamina is best of all for the faithful. Anywhere but Jhis. And that is why I worry for your life here. This is no place for peace loving people."

"I know, but it is not a simple matter to pull up roots, Zigal. Many who stay have family lines going back generations and Jhis is the largest city in the land and the richest city. I know why people stay. There are the theaters, the arena games, the many shops full of fancy delicacies, the best and biggest market places with every kind of food, craft and artistry imaginable, the many paved streets and aqueducts that bring cold water in from the mountains for everyone. It is the ease of life and the comforts here that keep them."

"Do those comforts keep _you_ here, my lady?" At this Lady Diti's face burned hot with anger.

"Zigal! How dare you! Do not ever question me that way!"

"I am sorry. I did not mean to offend. It is just that sometimes those things are a trap, my lady." Said Zigal. Diti nodded sadly.

"You are speaking right, Zigal. But I am no prophetess or desert mother to tell the people what is right. And even if one rose up, would they listen?" The servant woman's expression was despondent.

"You mentioned that there was something also something else, my lady."

"Not now. Perhaps when it is clear to me." Zigal looked away and continued to unpack and put away Lady Diti's veils. She was now settled in her new apartments in the House of Mourning, smaller than the Queen's Apartments and spare but her furnishings, tapestries and hangings gave it some semblance of luxury.

"Fricka!" Diti called. Fricka came scampering from her basket and stood at her mistress's, feet looking up at her.

"I have another mission for you." Fricka mewled and stood on her hind legs gently pawing Diti's skirts.

"Zigal, bring me Fricka's seeing ball and bring me the mechanical bird." Zigal obeyed. She lit a candle in it and the contraption became alive with a dull humming and she brought the contraption near to Lady Diti and unwrapped a silk kerchief. In it lay an exquisite golden hummingbird with sapphires for eyes. She brought a stylus with a tablet of clay attached to the contraption with wire. The metal of the bird was cool to the touch. The bird was fastened on to a thin rod and turned and as it was turned it wound up and then it clicked. Suddenly the eyes began to slowly light up and the tiny leaflet gold wings began to quiver rapidly. Lady Diti wrote her letter in the clay:

Mother Berenice,

It is your faithful student. The new queen has arrived today. Riding along inside a great statue in the procession of the Egian moon goddesses. It may be a sign that the king's heart may be inclined to this new religion but I do not know. The king's army is much greater now with the queen's house enjoined to the court and supplying more men.

But for the true reason I am writing again, Mother Berenice, the letter has been found and so far as I know, I have put it in the right hands to get to the king. The king has now arrived. I presume he has the letter with the false edict against the people. I have done my duty and all we can do now is wait. I know that you have said to weigh the circumstances carefully and to know when it is time to leave and I may, but it is hard. Jhis and the grand palace is my home. But I will watch and listen to the times and seasons as you have asked. May the name of Airend-Ur be blessed.

Most Honored Lady Diti

As she wrote the letter, after a few seconds her first words disappeared into the clay as the stylus sunk into it and formed new words and by the time she got to signing it and impressing her seal in the tablet, her first sentences had disappeared into the clay. When the entire contents of the letter disappeared she put away the stylus and unwound the bird from its dock. The bird-machine hummed softly and it had grown slightly warm. Fricka's eyes lit up at the sight of it.

"No Fricka. Not for you." She then inserted it into a small globe filled with gold and copper wires of longitude and latitude and fixed its destination by moving the lines on the globe until it was set right above the marked, general area of the citadel town of Gamina. She let it hover there for a few moments and then the bird's wings fluttered slightly. It lit up like lightening for a moment as it registered its destination. She took it off the globe and handed it to Zigal and Zigal went to a latticed window and let the tiny bird fly off.

"The things they make in those lands amaze me still, my lady."

"They were originally made in Hybron. But some peoples in other lands have retained the knowledge of the old crafts and alchemy their forefathers learned here. Let us hope no one ever sees either of us using these things, lest we be roasted for _"destroying the kingdom"_." She said.

"Never mind that the games do that all on their own, my lady."

"Ah, but _"to criticize the games is to hate life itself"_." She quoted a famous saying in Jhis. Then she laughed, mirthlessly.

**Chapter Nineteen**

They passed by Rhuctium and several other towns before they had arrived, after two weeks traveling in the caravan to Gamina. Anet did not know when she'd been so tired of traveling and so terribly sore. What was she thinking? Wanting to travel the wide world! She longed for some soft eggs and pepper soup, good bread that wasn't hard as a rock or meat that wasn't dried and tough. She wanted fish, honey, milk, dates and figs or juicy olives in brine and lots of cold water! Anything was better than traveling like this and she was so happy to see the rough-hewn towers of the citadel that she nearly cried. Her dreams were intermittent but all of a similar theme: blood and the strange man. She did not see the beating mechanical heart any longer in her dreams. It also seemed that Mother Berenice knew whenever she had a dream. It was as if they were both riding a line of understanding that no one else could see.

As they made their way up the hill toward the citadel many sisters came running out to meet them. Lots of little ones came to greet them and even a few of the townspeople.

"Oh, blessed way! We'd thought something terrible happened! You are all safe! God is good!" Cried Medeah.

"We managed to avoid the Hatchet Men by going by sea." Said Mother Berenice.

"By sea? Oh my!"

"Yes. We had to make a rush to find a way out of the city as quickly as we could! We sailed to Murka and found an inn owned by a fellow brother and his wife there. From there we made our way back by the Golden Road."

"We saw war ships leaving the port at Murka. King Kufun is amassing ships at Tarkal." Said Helga.

"We have heard many disturbing things from the south. This time they have done more than steal goods and burn villages. They have stolen women from numerous towns on the coast, even raiding up near Haiga." Said Olimah.

"Just recently?" Asked Mother Berenice.

"Well, no. The last was a few months ago but we are hearing rumors again, of ships coming from Jura. Helga has just confirmed it."

"Will the king do nothing?" Exclaimed Ava.

"It would seem he does not care about the people outside of the big cities." Said Mother Berenice. There was a look of worry on their faces.

However, these things were far away from Anet, Kaisha, Nirka and all the young ones. They saw the small vineyards, green land and hills and listened to the bleating herds of sheep with their jumping lambs and the happy voices of the people of the land. This was home and there was no reason for fear. They ran to the heavy front doors, exuberant at seeing the rest of their sisterhood. Hugging and belated greetings filled the halls until a stranger had walked in among them. The sisters who stayed at home did not seem surprised by this man. He stood apart, a deep frown etched in his long, bearded face. He wore the striped robes of the Ainash and he wore three, plain leather bands around his left arm. Anet was suddenly afraid. _Why is this man here? Are not the Ainash evil?_ She pointed at the man. He turned his hard gaze on her, as if appraising her out of all the girls there. The others who had just arrived finally turned to see him. Mother Berenice immediately approached and greeted him.

"Ahaifa, Ilim Gulin na-Shayin, my brother of the temple." She bowed slightly and he did the same.

"Ahaifa, Mother Berenice of the citadel of Gamina. I have come in God's name. As the Lord of the Deep Heavens decreed that I must be here, here I am."

"Sisters, this man has been sent by God himself." The ones who had just arrived fell silent, giving Mother Berenice questioning glances.

"Come sisters. We are all weary so let us rest today. Many things must take place in the future. Momentous things." She glanced at Anet as she said this.

"Supper will be ready in the dining hall in a few hours." Said Medeah, the head cook. The large gathering of scions followed Mother Berenice and Ilim down the hall. Some went off to rest or bathe themselves before the evening meal. Anet trailed after them, suspicious about their new guest and curious about what any of this had to do with her.

During supper Anet took the opportunity to take sideways glances at this man named Ilim. He did not speak much and always he had a frown on his face as dour and cranky looking as Instructress Helga's, who by the way, did not seem especially pleased at the presence of an Ainash priest, but she did not raise a fuss at supper. Supper consisted of a very special meal, almost as if the festival were upon them: roasted lamb bones with the marrow – the head cook relented on her rule not to serve meat before Holy Week because everyone was so glad they had arrived back home safe and sound - roasted root vegetables and currants and flat bread with olive oil and milk wine. He glanced at her a few times but seemed mostly lost in his own thoughts. Anet wondered if he was a bringer of good or evil. Mother Berenice and Carisse and a few of the older scions seemed to think his coming a good sign. Something about "things moving, the light of the future" and all that. But all she saw was a gloomy old man. Anet decided she did not like him and resented his intrusion into their citadel home. She would hide tomorrow so no one could find her. As this thought burst through her mind he suddenly glared at her. Anet looked down at her plate while everyone else talked, paying no heed to her. She felt tears well up inside. What was he doing here and what did this have to do with her?

**Chapter Twenty**

The month of Zali, 1685 A.T.V.

The king rode up with his grand procession to the grand palace and handed his red stallion off to an attendant. All the courtiers that had not traveled with him, the most important city officials of the land and all the palace servants were arrayed in the front courtyard and ready to administer to his new bride and her household. They all bowed low. It was a sea of finery but none so fine as his new queen. She was being carried from her magnificent barge to a chair under a ceremonial canopy of red and gold.

He strode up the steps and into his palace, intent on mischief and he kept Bakku close. Tiny beads of sweat formed on the royal messenger's brow. As soon as he reached the first hall he commanded the servants:

"Take my bride and her household to their quarters in the west wing. Send for the Lady Diti and for Shishak and Teman. There is a matter that must be attended to before the wedding tomorrow." Bakku felt his knees grow weak but he revealed no emotion except a slight smile. The king strode up the dais and sat on his throne between his red stone lions. A servant handed him his scepter and he stabbed it against the dais. The sound rang through the hall like an ax ringing against stone.

"Bring them before me!" All who were present, hundreds together with his courtiers, the princes and lords of the land and his officials were silent, keenly watching for which faction at court had displeased him – and who would be uplifted and who would be brought low - as Shishak and Teman came before him. Teman's eyes were filled with fear, yet Shishak looked around with what the king thought was undisguised pride. Eliaz and other older priests and scribes were among the crowd in the court.

"Shishak, what is this that you have done in my name in that you have forged an edict of death against the people of the Golden Temple?" Shishak bowed low to the ground.

"Oh king, may you live even forever and ever, oh Great One! But I do not know of what you speak." The king raised a brow and looked from him to Teman.

"You do not know?"

"Who has accused me of this thing?"

"You will not question me. You will answer. Did you give the command to execute certain followers at your temple?"

"No my king! Never did I do such a thing as that!"

"Did you not raise the tax at the temple?"

" We did, with your permission, Your Greatness."

"And did I give you permission to use my seal on this edict?" The king asked, taking out the letter and opening it.

"Herald, come forward." The king commanded. Master Caina stepped forward and cleared his throat. Shishak's countenance changed at once from pride to fear.

"You informed me of this forged letter. How did you come to know of it? Repeat it for me again."

"My king, Your Greatness. You sent me back to the city to tell forth of your coming and to ready the city. The city was in turmoil because of Lady Diti. Lady Diti positioned herself in the city square dressed in mourning and her women with her and they rose up such a cry that they had the city in an uproar. Some of the officials here can tell you it is the truth. They saw it for themselves."

"And why did Lady Diti do this thing?"

"Because, as she said, she felt sorry for the people about to be killed over the tax. It was she that told me of the letter and it was she who gave it to me."

"Bakku come forward and bring me the signet ring I gave to you." It took all of Bakku's reserve to keep from trembling and he did as he was bid. The king snatched the ring and looked it over, then at the seal on the letter. He glared at Bakku. Bakku bowed to the ground.

"Why is my seal upon this letter? The seal that I gave to you?"

"I know not why, Your Greatness! I have had this ring all along upon my person. I know nothing of this letter, I swear to you, lord king!"

"Yet, here is the seal of this ring upon the letter. You are of the Ainash, Bakku and I gave you the ring. You will be held partially responsible for this. You are behind this as well."

"No! I swear!" Cried Bakku. The king ignored him.

"Where is the eunuch in charge of the courtly women? Find him and throw him in the dungeon! Bring the Lady Diti before me." Guards hurried from the room to find Ruz. Lady Diti was brought forward and she fell upon her face.

"Get up! Why have you done this? Is it to humiliate me in front of the queen and her family for which you have done this?" Lady Diti fell to the floor in front of the king again.

"No, my lord the king! Please do not do anything at all to Ruz for he heard my pleas to help the people and took pity on me. For you know that I am also one of the Aishanna-La and I could not see this done and do nothing in the sight of God! It is because these men here," she pointed to Shishak and Teman, "who planned something wicked in your name. Did you create the edict that the Aishanna-La who cannot pay the new tax must go to the their deaths? They, with their wives and their little ones?"

"I have said that I did not."

"I have learned that these men have lied and made the edict themselves and to have this done in the arena for your wedding celebration. You were not here to stop them and there was no one raising a cry for them. Many are in the arena prisons now awaiting their fates because they are poor and have no money. Their children will be sold into slavery. I had no power to do anything at all so I sat in the square and mourned and wept for them for they are my people. This is why I have done this. Please, my lord king, do with me as you will." She cried and bowed low before the king. The king rubbed his chin in thought.

"Who told you this thing, my lady?"

"Oh king! If I told you before all these people who it was that told me of the forged letter, that one might be in fear for their life for Shishak and Teman and others in league with them may seek to kill that one."

"My lord king," said Shishak, whose face was drained of all color, "it is Eliaz who has done this thing!"

"And why should Eliaz do this?" Asked the king sitting back and appraising him.

"It is he who keeps a seal, one that looks like yours in his desk. I saw him with it. I thought you gave it to him but I saw it. You will find it there if you search for it." The king looked at Eliaz who had the stiff look of shock on his face.

"Your Greatness, this is a lie! Never would I commit such a treasonous act against the king! Shishak and Teman lie against me!" The king turned to look for the arena master.

"You are in charge for the games for the wedding festivities. You are packed in this controversy. What do you have to say?" Amat cleared his throat.

"Shishak and Teman are right. It was Eliaz who gave me money to jail those who did not pay the tax." Lady Diti and Eliaz gasped.

"He is lying! I went to confront him on this matter, oh king! My guards can attest to this! He did not deny that it was Shishak and Teman who did this thing!"

"I see. You, my lady, I shall not punish for I believe you did in your heart what was right for these people. Yet, I will not tolerate your inciting the people's passions. What you have done is dangerous and the next time you are involved in such a thing I will have you whipped. And I will have the name from you later. However, I am looking at this letter and it is not in my hand and though it would seem to be my seal," he gave Bakku a sharp look, "I did not write this letter nor did I even think to have something like this done to the people. Someone else has signed my name here. I do remember that Shishak and Teman and others from the temple came to me demanding a higher tax at the temple and I did approve it and now I see there are many who cannot or will not pay it. I do not know for sure who is lying but this letter is a lie. But we have refined people at court now. So I shall settle the matter in this way, to please the gods and to bring honor to Hec, above all else, though I should have every one of you executed immediately. You, Amat, must choose a man among those jailed who did not pay the tax to fight in the games. Make sure he is strong and courageous. He must fight against a great and terrible beast. Choose a powerful beast or I will have you impaled. This man will champion the Ainash priests here at court." He then turned his attention upon all the priests and scribes who were gathered at the court. "If this man wins, you shall all live. But if he loses, Amat, Shishak, Teman and Eliaz and all those who came to me requesting the new tax shall be impaled!" Eliaz nearly fainted. Lady Diti came to him and caught him before he fell. Bakku remained in his groveling position with his face to the floor and did not stir.

"Eliaz is innocent. . ."

"There are no innocent priests in Jhis, my lady. He will die like the rest!"

"You Greatness, I beg to make one more request?" She begged.

"What is it?" He was becoming irritated.

"If this champion wins, I request that you lower the tax."

"I shall think on it. And remember, my lady, the matter here is not sentiment for your people or for anyone else! It is authority. My authority which has been challenged by deception. You also challenged it by your public weeping in the square. Do not ever do it again! Guards! Find Ruz and bring him out and whip him. If he ever allows any of my wives to leave this palace without my consent next time he must be put to death! Take these men with Amat to the dungeons of the arena. See that my orders are carried out, exactly!" A mass of guards corralled the priests, now stricken with fear, and marched them out of the throne room. Eliaz, being very old and frail finally had to be lifted and carried out. The king's eyes flickered over Bakku who remained bowed. Diti also noted that a man, dressed in the rich silver finery of an Egian king looked on the affair with cruel, smirking approval. It was chieftain Tenan. The crowds silence was broken and there was much commotion and whispering among the vassals and officials gathered. Lady Diti followed at a distance, her heart pained for Eliaz. She did not know what else to do. Perhaps this time, since Amat's own life now hung in the balance she could actually find a way to work with him. She went to her own quarters feeling drained and afraid. Never did she hate the priests of the Golden Temple before like she hated them now!

**Chapter Twenty-One**

It was early dawn and the sky was light pink from a crowning sun. Demos's head was spinning. He'd spent a few nights at his family's home, Priti-Vast, a very large house in the High Quarter, after having spied for Eliaz and Lady Diti. The wealthy patrons of the Golden Temple, in fact, the entire community was divided among the Aishanna-La. Some viewed it as a needed winnowing out of the unwanted and others were outraged. Those who worshiped other gods began to fear the power of the Ainash.

"It will be like during the times of the Kushigyar!" Were the mutterings in many homes, around humble fire hearths and in richly decorated interior rooms. His own family was in consternation as to what it meant for the future, but they had no answers. His father, a pragmatic man, was resolutely behind the prevailing order of things after a long night of worried discussion around the evening meal.

"This family has nothing to fear from the Ainash. Because of our financial support of the temple our family name has always been in good standing in this community and we are liked by the priestly families and the nobility. Why, even the high priest has spoken well of you, Demos. In fact, all of your instructors speak well of you. Do not allow the passions of others to derail your future. When you go back to the temple keep your head down and do not cause trouble. Do as you are told, perform your work well, as you always do, and perhaps you will rise even higher at the temple and in the good fathers' esteem. That is the best way. Do not worry over this drama, my son. It will blow away like everything else. A good name in his community is what keeps a man. The good name stays forever." Said his father.

"Yes," agreed his mother, an elegant, willowy woman who managed to retain some respect among the nobility though she married beneath her station, "listen to your father and ignore this trouble. It will be over soon enough." Demos inwardly shuddered at the mention of the high priest. He was no longer convinced that currying favor and aspiring to be on the scribal council was the right thing to do. Everything the priesthood did seemed tainted but he dare not share these thoughts with his parents, especially his father.

He took time to visit an inn. The wedding celebrations were set for late in the morning and then the king would introduce the new queen to the public again at the arena. Everyone in the city would be there. There was a heavy air of wildness coupled with uncertainty. Emotions were high and people were growing restive. Even this early in the morning the most popular inns were brimming with more people than usual. His parents hated the inns but he felt and heard the pulse the bowels of Jhis in the inns. Dressed in an old, slightly worn tunic and sandals he asked for his usual light wheat beer and sat in his usual corner. The ever irreverent Zephyros, a casual and slightly reckless friend entered, saw him and went to his table. Demos was slightly relieved. Perhaps he would have some useful news. He usually did.

"Demos! I have not seen you in so long. Some wedding it will be, eh?"

"I was at home. We all watched the procession from the rooftop. Impressive."

"It looked as if the sky rained flower petals! And after all that screeching the former queen did right before they came into the city. The hag is lucky she wasn't whipped and thrown into a cell."

"Well, I am glad it did not come to that." Zephyros laughed broadly. Demos forced a chuckle and drank his beer.

"So Zephyros, have you heard anything, besides the wedding?"

"Oho!" His friend rubbed his hands together with relish.

"What?"

"The word around the city is that the king has something special prepared for his bride in the games today." Demos lifted a brow.

"Special? Like what?" He asked. Zephyros slapped him on the arm.

"You might know. After all," he said, looking around, "you work at the temple." He whispered this last part. Demos felt heat rising in him. "And I do not mean that business the deposed queen was wailing about."

"I've been at home these past few days."

"So those greedy slavers let you have a day off?"

"When their whips are worn down." Demos joked but he was keen to know what his sometime friend meant.

"Come Zephyros, what is it? Don't tantalize me." Said Demos. Zephyros grinned, which irritated him. He stifled the urge to punch him.

"Well, they've gathered a fair amount of people for the arenas. Something about taxes not being paid. None of them are people you know, are they?"

"Not personally." Demos was beginning to feel sick. He already knew this, before the city had found out.

"One man is to be chosen to fight in the games instead of all of them. He will champion the Ainash."

"Champion the priesthood? They do not have anything to do with the games."

"They will this time. Some of them were already arrested, Demos. They are arresting even more. The whole priesthood, it seems. The gods! Where have you been? The temple is surrounded by the King's Guard."

"The temple." Demos felt as if cotton had filled his mouth. It was as if the conversation had slipped into mere dream.

"Demos? I did not mean. . .I hope you are not in trouble?" Zephyros now seemed at least a little concerned. Suddenly Demos could not finish his beer.

"No, no trouble for me. It would seem things change with the flip of a coin. Excuse me, Zephyros but I need to go!"

"But they won't let you in! Demos, wait! They might arrest you!" But Demos was already leaving the inn. His thoughts were racing, spinning. Things were being turned upside down. He worried for Eliaz, the old man he often secretly worked for. He raced through the streets. He could see the rise of the temple towers and the minarets of the palace up ahead and the looming arena to the left across the bridge. The main streets were becoming crowded. Women were gathering at the cisterns and the central well. He slowed down so as not to draw attention and rounded a corner. Down the street, sure as Zephyros had said, the King's Guard had surrounded the temple and some soldiers had a group of nine priests in custody. There was Undum, Luriah and Mustapheh among the arrested and the one man he secretly loathed even more than all the other priests, the high priest Silam Tybbl-Awat, Lord Tybbl-Awat's son, to his surprise were among them but to his horror, so was Eliaz. Eliaz looked even more frail and ill than usual. Demos approached a man who was leading along a pack mule.

"What is happening at the temple? Why is the King's Guard there?" The man shrugged and kept on his way. Exasperated Demos looked around for anyone to speak to.

"What do you need my son?" Asked an old Jurite man. He was tall, wiry and he was leaning upon a wooden staff.

"What is happening at the temple? Do you know?"

"Do you not know what is happening? One small breeze can blow along many things. Where the breeze itself comes from the things blown cannot see with eyes."

" _What?_ "

"You are a part of what is happening, what is moving here. It was decreed by the king that those who instituted the higher tax in the temple upon the people who could not pay it be brought to the arena. One, among those whom these very men sought to kill will be chosen to champion them. Interesting how these things work out, is it not?" Realization dawned in Demos.

"Yes, yes. So you see now."

"But this is my fault! My friend Eliaz, he is with them but he does not deserve this? Why would the king do this?" Demos thought the man strange and his gaze was intense, as if he could read his naked thoughts.

"The king is capricious and unwise. He has no love for the priests of this temple nor does he have any real love for the Aishanna-La but for his own pride, desires and pleasures. As for your friend, long has he chosen to serve the corrupt priests of the temple, yet he will not suffer the fate you imagine. One day the temple will be swept clean and the old ways returned. Do not do like your friend and hide yourself and what you are. Eliaz is a good man, but he is a part of a corrupt priesthood. When the ax falls, it falls upon all, not this one here and that one there. Stop gazing at the temple and go to the arena dungeons. See your friend there for he has one last request of you, Demos."

"Sir, are you a seer?"

"That and more." The man said and pointed a long arm toward the arena. Crowds were making their way there already, across the bridge over King's Lake. Demos thought for a moment. He turned back.

"How did you know my. . ." The man was gone. But the man's voice still sounded in his mind like an echo. Demos followed the wagon the priests had been roped to at a distance through the city, across the bridge, barely able to keep on his feet through the jostling crowds headed for the arena. As he got nearer to the arena he could hear the exuberance of the crowd. The royal wedding was being performed at the palace. The king and queen had not yet arrived. He stayed back as the guards herded the priests downstairs into the dungeons. He waited and when they'd come back up and he saw a chance he quietly descended into the dungeons. He heard footsteps behind him. It was Uwain, Lady Diti's personal guard. Uwain only took the slightest notice of him, pushing past him, descending quickly. He looked like he was on a mission. _From Lady Diti?_ Uwain seemed determined and if he was aware that someone was following behind him he did not seem to care. Around the corner Uwain swept until he was a mere shadow. Demos had not realized what a soul despairing place the arena was until he'd come to its bowels. Cheap incense burned in holders everywhere to mask entrenched, evil smells. Here the sun god's light did not touch, only the flame from torches. The growing roar of the crowds filling in above seemed a lifetime away but he heard the wails and moans of people who were brought here for execution, the talk of fighters prepared for battle, death and glory and the roaring, wailing beasts, all these noises mingling together in a soup if fear, rage and despair. Demos turned the corner of the hall and saw a small phalanx of soldiers standing by the main doors to the dungeon.

"What are you doing down here?" Asked a guard.

"I came to see someone. A priest of the temple. His name is Eliaz."

"What do you need to see him for?" Demos thought fast. He could not find anything clever to say but the strange man had told him that he must see Eliaz.

"He is an old family friend. I came to give him comfort. Please?" The guards looked at each other and the first one shrugged.

"The man will die. It is a surety. First, we need to make sure you are not carrying anything. Stand there." Said the guard and they searched him and let him enter. One of the guards started to lead him to a tiny room where the priests were all sitting.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I need to speak with him alone." The guard gave him a puzzled look but then he had Eliaz carried from the cell and they put them in another room together. This room was cleaner than the rest. Eliaz was very sick and sweating. Demos nearly fell to tears.

"Eliaz, my father. What have they done?" He said when they were finally alone.

"Do not weep, child. You did well."

"What they have done is not fair! This was not supposed to happen!"

"I know. But it has and who knows how these things will go? What matters is that there is a chance the people can escape."

"But how? They are all going to die, Eliaz!"

"We do not know that. And there is something burning within me. Important things you must get from my house. It is at my writing desk. . ." Eliaz shook with convulsions and clutched at his chest.

"Eliaz!"

"My son. It has all been too much for me. Get the keys from my pocket and the book. The book of the writings of Nagilla the desert father."

"You have a copy of it? The Book of Nagilla?" Demos was surprised. "But why do I need it? Is it not kept in the temple library?"

"Long ago I made a copy for myself. Right when they began changing things and they discarded the writings of Nagilla. His wisdom, transmitted from God will be lost. In my old age, God has granted even me, a vision, one vision and he said I must record and expound on the writings of Nagilla, and the writings of other prophets and scribes moved by God to write the holy book. These writings I kept and hid them but I did not teach them. You must get them before someone else finds and destroys them or they will be lost forever. Please Demos, do this for me. There is also the matter of the girl. The girl I rescued from the fires. . ." Demos looked in confusion. Eliaz's voice rasped raggedly.

"What girl, father?" But Eliaz was growing incoherent. Finally, after some time, he became lucid again.

"Please. . . ," He labored heavily with the words, "do these things for me, my son."

"I will, father."

"Now. . . let me rest. . . to my resting place, now." Demos fetched the house keys from him and hid them in his own clothes, shedding tears. Eliaz was dying in his arms. Demos did not understand what any of this meant. All he did his entire life was copy and write and follow orders. What would he do now?

"Someone, help! Help me!" Demos cried out. A guard quickly came in.

"What is it? What is wrong with him?"

"He's very ill. All of this, it is too much for him!" Eliaz's breathing labored under a death rattle now, beads of sweat pouring from his temples.

"There is nothing I can do. He is here by royal order." Said the guard, not unkindly.

"Water." Eliaz rasped. The guard looked uncertain.

"Water!" Demos demanded. The guard called for water for Eliaz.

"Eliaz. I never thought things would turn out like this."

"Just get the book, Demos and make sure the other priests do not see it. No one but Ilim should have it. Ilim the difficult. Ilim the faithful." When the guard had come back with a cup of water Eliaz was dead. Demos wept bitterly.

Uwain wondered in all this mess how the queen – in his mind she would never simply be a lady – would fare. He had thought numerous times of going back to his home, the vast, dark forests of green and the frosts of his homeland where sandals were only worn in the summer months. He had grown weary of living here, tired of the sand in his eyes, tired of court intrigues, tired of all of it, but he could never leave Queen Diti while she was afloat in the mire of Khalit's court. He hoped this plan worked better than the last one or else they would all find themselves in the furnace or in front of wild lions in the arena. He had no fear of fighting in the arena, but the furnace! – he shivered. To meet Sollus, the sun god in such a state would not gain His respect. Bound and burned. There was no glory in such a death.

Seeing he was a queen's guard, they allowed him entry. He was here to see Amat.

Amat, who looked washed out and shrunken, his eyes darting about like flies, led him into his dank, jailer's room.

"We need to speak privately, Amat." Amat got up again and closed the door. Though he tried hard to hide it Uwain knew he was in dread for his life.

"What is it? You were here before with the Lady Diti. It was she who got me into this!"

"No, it was your greed that got you into this or have you forgotten the gold you were given for all the innocent people you have locked up in here?" Uwain spat the words in disgust and nodded to the accounting tablets Amat had lying under his table in a basket. Amat turned even paler.

"I will get to the point. I am here on orders from the Most Honored Lady Diti. You are supposed to choose the champion, is this right?"

"Yes." Amat wiped his brow with a rag, his hand shaking.

"Have you done so, Amat? We do not have much time. The king and the queen will be arriving within a few hours." He reached into a secret fold within his tunic and pulled out a satchel. He handed it to the arena master.

"What is it?" Asked Amat, taking the satchel.

"Venom of the giki serpent. Apply it on whatever weapons your champion chooses." Uwain saw the light of hope dawn on Amat's face.

"Tell the Most Honored Lady Diti that I thank her! I thank her from the very pit of my heart!" He groveled.

"Pit, indeed! You heed the ways of the sun god?" He asked. Amat nodded.

"May your life end in glory and fire."

"And to you also, my friend." Said Amat. Uwain bowed curtly and left the dungeons. On his way up the stairs and into the bright light of the sun he thought on it. A man who saw a chance to live again. It was a marvelous thing, for he had seen it and even experienced it. At one moment in time a man either panics in dread or resigns himself to die and then a corner is turned and he finds hope. Nothing much lifted his spirits these days except Queen Diti's beautiful, kind face. And circumstances like these. Even in a faithless dog like Amat.

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

After three days of rest for the sisters that had returned activity resumed at the citadel. Early as always, everyone rose for prayer, the readings and breakfast and then either chores or some sort of study or other work. Anet was expecting to be sent to the library again to work on her letters and reciting history lessons. They had gone through the books of the old kings of Hybron and next there were the doings of the desert mothers. This was the smallest book in the holy book but Anet looked forward to reading it the most because it was the only book written by a prophetess, Ranna, daughter of one of the legendary judges and desert holy men, Rannadur. Great feats he was able to perform and he even slayed one of the great dragons of old, Kivorok, one of the elder sons of the sea god Turok, before he made Abgaron. This angered Turok but as Rannadur had the power of Airend-Ur in him, Turok could do nothing against him. Ranna took over the judgeship from her father and did many great things in God's name on her own. Anet wondered. How could anything compare with slaying dragons and casting windstorms? Things were different this morning, however. Helga instructed Anet to stay with the guardian scions that morning who were outside playing rings.

"You will be called when your lesson is ready." She said. Anet thought it strange but playing rings seemed like a fun way to pass time.

Rings was a favorite game of the scions who stood watch over the citadel. In fact, these women seemed to live on a different plane than all the rest. They mostly were up and about at evening and at night. They were also good at fencing and archery. Each of the guardian scions had thin, curved swords in scabbards at their sides that they carried at all times and they practiced archery and fencing much of the day if they were not reading the holy book, praying or eating. Sometimes they played games but these games usually involved dexterity or play-fighting. This time they were outside playing rings. There were several iron rings and at a distance small poles stuck low to the ground. Each ring had a wide hole in the middle and one had to catch the pole by throwing a ring. If a player hit the pole that was one mark for the player. If a player was able to throw the ring so that it caught itself upon on the pole that was ten marks. The rings, to Anet's disappointment were very heavy and the pole was too far. There were a series of rings, three sets, each set bigger than the last. The biggest, heaviest rings also had the smallest holes in the middle. If these landed around a pole, that was fifty marks. She was amazed at how good some of them were at making their targets.

"Try a little one Anet, or else you may drop one and break your foot." Encouraged Lita. Anet took a small ring. The stone was surprisingly heavy though it was not much bigger than her hand. She could fit her whole arm through the hole. It was smooth and polished. She drew a deep breath, watching Lita throw hers and make her target. Anet threw her ring, clumsily trying to copy Lita's technique. It hopped off the pole and plopped back just a few feet from her and elicited laughter from the older players.

"Ten marks for the beginner!" said Lita.

"I want to try again!"

"So try again. This time shift your weight to your right foot if you are right-handed to help your aim."

"Take your time." Said Semmarah. Anet tried again with the same ring and this time she managed to throw it a few feet farther.

"Aw!" She said, stamping her foot.

"Patience child!" Said Semmarah as they all laughed good-naturedly. "Do you think it took us a day to learn? It is a simple game but it takes skill, which requires practice and patience."

"Yes. Some of us still need practice!" Teased Lita. Another, Odwyn came forward.

"Here, watch how I do it!" She took one of the largest - Odwyn was a very tall and muscular girl with bright golden hair and gray eyes who always maintained that she descended from the giantesses of the northern black forests. Anet half-believed her. She took the ring, crouched slightly and stood as still as a sand lizard, concentrating on her target and with one fluid, quick motion she drew her arm over her body, then hurled the ring like an arrow being loosed and it encircled its target. The ring circled around the pole several times and then fell to the ground. She looked around proudly.

"Concentration is key!" She said.

"Anet! Time for your lessons now!" It was Instructress Helga. She did not want to go but she knew better than to keep Instructress Helga waiting too long.

"Bye, sisters!" She said and went running inside. Helga was waiting.

"Come!" Anet frowned in deep suspicion. She seemed uncharacteristically cheerful. She led Anet up the many flights of stairs. Were they going to the small library today? They passed by many rooms she had never seen the insides of. They were headed to such a one. One of the many lone rooms near the top of the citadel. Helga knocked on the door.

"Come in!" They walked in and Helga pushed Anet into the room.

"This is Ilim. He will be your new teacher, Anet. Learn from him." And with that Instructress Helga bowed curtly to him and left. Ilim's dark gaze was intense, as if he were seeking some answer, scratching his thick, gray beard. Anet did not know what to say and felt awkward and slightly fearful in the presence of this strange man. He was silent for what seemed like an eternity.

"You are from the Ainash." She blurted out and then immediately regretted opening her mouth. She was now afraid that he would strike her for speaking first. He narrowed his eyes.

"Hedged within this fortress I see that you are unaware of proper custom, child."

"I am sorry, father."

"Normally a child is beaten for speaking before his elders have spoken. However, we live in strange times. You are very bold, I can see that about you. That is good, for timidness will not do. How old are you?"

"Ten years."

"What is your name?"

"Anet."

"I _know_ that. What is your given _family_ name?" He snapped. She flinched as if he really had struck her.

"Well go on, child. Your name." He softened the edge in his voice.

"Anetaliat na-Kuyin, daughter of. . .oh."

"It is important to know yourself, who you descended from and who you are now, to know where you may be going. Do you know your father and mother?"

"No."

"One day I shall tell you about them."

"You knew my family?"

"Silence! Do you know the Law and the Writings?"

"Some of them."

"Some of them? Who was King Kaiga I?"

"He was the first Red King. He built Assenna and made it his capital and united all the peoples in Hybron. He was given the star scepter by God Himself."

"You do not fear to speak of the Red Ones?" She shook her head.

"Good. Recite the prayer of King Kaiga when he inaugurated the first temple."

" _Oh God, may you find delight in this which we the people have built for the glory of your name. The first prophet Kelamm said long ago : " "You will maintain a Holy City for your name in Hybron for the peoples to stream to."" May you keep us upon the Red Path of righteousness and may you work through me to do your will always and to judge with justice with mercy and goodness and may our eyes never tolerate wickedness in all your holy land. Ellah Kaifah._ "

"Huh. I see they have the true Aishanna here."

"What does that mean?"

"The Ainash hate the Red Kings and have taken certain books out of the Aishanna in order to obscure knowledge. Many things they have taken away and other things which have nothing to do with the true word they have added. One thing is the book of the writings of the women."

"I. . ." She began.

"We are at lesson now! I will question you and you will answer me. Pay attention! Recite for me the prayer of the last Red King, King Dahlan, written down in the Book of Prayers." Anet thought for a moment. Iddina used to read it to them before bed each night. She closed her eyes and the silence was deafening but it finally came to her. She could sense the old man waiting.

" _Lord of the Deep heavens may your name be glorified. May you carve a way in the dark for the light to shine again. Even though darkness and my enemies surround me you lift me up and bring before me a path out of the mire. May your will take place as you have spoken it. You have prophesied and given me a promise to bless all the peoples of the world who stream to you, may it take place just as you have said, oh my God. Ellah, Ellah Kaifah._ " Anet felt as if she were in a trance and she took a deep breath after reciting it and finally opened her eyes. Ilim was looking at her in wonder. Then he nodded.

"You are the one He has told me about. Do you know why I had you recite prophetic prayers?" She shook her head.

"As you know, the old capital, Assenna was destroyed by God's hand though many believe it was simply a terrible natural disaster. It was divine retribution. It was once called the Decoration of kingdoms, Hybron the great land and Assenna, the jeweled city. But it became corrupt in the extreme. When you find you have a garment that has become filthy, so filthy it cannot be washed clean what do you do with it?"

"Use it for cleaning or throw it out."

"So it was that way with the people of Assenna and even throughout Hybron but Assenna, mainly. God became incensed at their wickedness and destroyed it. Every man was doing bad all the time. However, He did not forget His promise to keep a holy city for His name and those who worship him. Many people have been looking forward to the fulfillment of this prophecy. I tell you now that we are going to bring it about, Anet. Those who have stayed true to the Old Ways of God. Many will look and fear it, others will rejoice and many will not know but God is bringing about another Red King to bring justice back to the land."

"What do the priests say?"

"They do not want to hear of it and some do not believe it. They scoff. Those that do believe it are the ones we must beware of, for they will work to destroy this new king."

"Who is the new king?"

"I do not know. God has not revealed him yet. He may not even be born. I have had many dreams. I know you have had dreams too, have you not?" She nodded.

"They are prophetic dreams. We will talk about them for God is a revealer of signs and dreams, Anet. When the king comes we will know it. We and others like us have been raised up to prepare the way for the future. He is bringing back the desert prophets into the world."

"Is Mother Berenice like us?"

"In a way. He uses many people with different talents and strengths to bring about His will. You have been brought here by those who may not have perceived your talent but took pity upon you and saved you from death or worse when they did not have to. Then there are those like Mother Berenice who have their own path to follow. She has nurtured and fostered you among many young girls here, saw your gifts, kept you safe and tutored you in many things."

"So my training here is finished?" She asked, confused. Ilim frowned.

"Of course it is not! Do not be silly. You have a great deal more to learn, not just about history but about the world, about the land all around. . .and weaponry." He said this last reluctantly.

"Weaponry?"

"Yes. I must travel back to Jhis soon but I shall be back and forth and I shall send messages to Mother Berenice for you to follow, lessons and instructions. First, you will begin your training with the guardian scions. You will learn how to wield a sword and to shoot a bow and arrow. And your first lesson will be how to find your way in the darkness and how to hunt by the light of the moons. Both moons shall be out tonight, so there shall be some light to see by. You will be taught how to hide yourself in the bright moonlight when the moons are high. You will learn why later." Anet felt as if her feet were not touching the ground. What would this lesson be like? She felt that life had suddenly become vastly more interesting. Maybe this priest was not so terrible after all.

"Father Ilim?"

"Yes child?"

"What is your given family name?"

"I am Ilim Gulin na Shayin, son of Elimmilek of the Arvadite tribe.

"I want to know which tribe I came from."

"You will know, in time."

"Will all these things help me fight dragons?"

"Dragons! Why do you speak of dragons?"

"I hear people talk about them. And how great warriors fought them and sailors do things to appease them." He heaved a great sigh before speaking, as if he were weary.

"There are many things in the world, great and terrible and there different types of men God raises up to fight against them. The great sages, like Nagilla the Great and Galam'akmet, the warriors like Ishuye, Rannadur and Zarupheh, the judges like the early shaikhs before the Age of Empires and the kings of old. You speak of dragons but these are mere distractions from the real darkness. There are things more dangerous and far more subtle then they. Life in the desert is a protection from the real darkness. So, let us speak no more of dragons." He gave her a stern, disapproving look. Anet gulped, the wind temporarily slapped out of her sails.

"Did you speak to God?" She asked quietly. Ilim nodded.

"In a dream He spoke to me."

"What did He say?"

"That the time for change has come and that there is much work to do. Let us get to it."

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

They arrived in barges filled with kata flowers and shaded in white and gold veils from the heat of the high morning sun. Queen Taliat sat amongst creamy silk pillows. Her long, thick black hair streamed down her back and entwined in her tresses were long strings of tiny pearls and her dark amber eyes painted with the faintest shadow of kohl. She was all smiles and serenity, her golden bangles jingled as she waved at the crowds gathered everywhere to see their new queen again. The people outside of the arena followed the royal barges as they floated along King's Lake, a long, narrow man-made lake stretching from the palace to the arena.

The king thought he had never laid eyes on a woman more desirable. She was even more beautiful than Diti, now that he thought on it. Surely, he could begin building his dynasty with this one. Petals filled the air and the roars of the crowd were deafening. Taliat shined like a star in her gold and white wedding silks and her gold and ruby headdress, like Hetar, the first Queen of Heaven.

"Does she not shine like Hetar herself, my lords?" The king said laughing, his heart filled with pride. His favorite courtiers who were riding with them all nodded in agreement.

"The queen is more beautiful than all three of Hec's wives together. Perhaps His Greatness will have to fight the sun god himself when he catches a glimpse of her. His eye is upon her even now!" Said one of the officials from Rhuctium. Bakku glanced nervously at the king. The king preened.

"Do not let Hec hear you say such a thing or he will steal her away and sweep her up in his chariot like he did to Hari." Said Tenan, grinning widely, his pride just as mighty as the king's.

"I may have to brandish my golden sword against him if it comes to that!" Said the king lightly but when he rested his gaze upon Bakku it was bright and pointed, like a cat playing with a mouse before killing it.

The king's heart was light, or so it seemed, but one never knew with King Khalit any longer. He was changed. More changeable than ever and more temperamental than usual All others were jubilant at the new wedding festivities but Bakku was in fear. He had downed nearly an entire vial of neru serum to keep calm. He had been humiliated before the entire court and his allies from Egi and the king's signet ring taken from him. Why the king kept him with him at this time he did not know nor could he guess what it portended.. He smoothed his silks and glanced at Taliat who seemed both present and far away, like a high, thin cloud on a sunny day. There was no comfort in gazing there nor was it wise to gaze at the queen for too long in the king's presence. He was too humiliated to look the chieftain in the eye and guessed that Tenan would leave him to his fate. A dead man had no allies. He concentrated on the crowds instead. He now dreaded the games more than ever. He did not know what game the king was playing but he knew he'd been caught out. He was on frantic alert, thinking carefully how he would weather this new storm, looking for any tiny opportunity to save face – and save his own skin.

They reached the arena, floating under the bridge and to the steps where just up a few flights were the royal seats of the king, shaded by awnings and veils. He arrived at his box with his court and queen and surveyed the arena. All the nobles of the city were gathered in the tiers below his. They rose and bowed before him like a great crowd of noisy hens. He gave them the barest recognition. The arena was filled wall to wall with people. The great statues of Hec and his three wives by his side, his first wife the queen, standing in his chariot with him, the others on either side of the chariot. It made him think on his own first wife. He shook it from his mind. He should have made Diti come along but took pity on her because of her humiliation. Still, now that he thought on it, every gesture to the people was an opportunity to establish authority. She was still his wife. Next time he would not be lenient with her. But he had brought along his concubines in the other barges. He turned to a servant.

"Have something to drink brought to all of the court." Then the king stood up and the crowds began to settle and quiet. They were sitting in a special place where the king's voice could carry across the vast arena. He spoke.

"You see the sun god before you and his sister-wives who all look upon us now. Let all those here praise him for he will welcome many people this day into his halls of glorious fire!" This drew cheers from the crowds.

"You men! You fathers and sons! Rejoice for the games for when there is no war there is glory in the games when one meets death! You women rejoice for there is glory in the death of the menfolk who fight and die in them!" More cheers.

"Let the games begin!" The sand was clean and fresh and the looming images of the sun god and his wives cleaned, white stone shined from their pedestals in the middle of the arena.

"I trust a champion has been chosen for the Ainash?" He turned to his herald.

"Yes, Your Greatness. I hear he is a strong warrior."

"Good. Perhaps we will get a thrilling fight before he dies." He turned a wicked look upon Bakku and leaned in closer.

"If this man wins, you shall keep your position. If not, I have a special pole being fired just for you to impale you upon. Pray for his victory, Bakku." Whispered the king.

There were sly, even pitying looks from the other courtiers and officials. Some looked faintly amused at his plight, others apprehensive. None came to his defense. Bakku swallowed, sweating heavily, managed a faint smile but said nothing. In truth, the king had not allowed him to go near the temple, keeping him away from any of his co-conspirators all that day and the day before. He prayed indeed, inwardly, fervently for the victory of this unknown champion. He looked up to see Lord Seht and his daughter both staring at him, their expressions fathomless.

The south gate opened and two fighters entered, heavily armored, one carrying a sword, the other an ax. At the other end the north gate opened and two more entered, opponents. All four were volunteers from poor families looking for honor and glory and a chance for fame and wealth. Any who died, the dead themselves would be whisked to the fiery halls of the sun god to eat and drink and fight forever, their families would gain prominence, if not in money then with favors and status in the community and those who won would win money and more chances at games. But to fight and win or die at the king's wedding! They had all been promised great riches. They climbed the high steps to the platform stationed just below the great images of Hec and his wives, one team ascending the one side of the stair, the other fighters, the other side. They gave the obligatory bow to the opponents and took their stances. The king gave the signal for the fight to begin with his red silk and the fighters, driven on stimulants tore after each other like enraged beasts. It was a thrilling fight but did not last long. One fighter from the north gate had pinned the other fighter on the other team down after he had fumbled and dropped his sword, and took his head. He ascended the steps, raised the head and the crowds screamed and whistled. He threw the head down the steps. The body was then taken from the arena and another fighter entered to take his place. It went this way for some while and King Khalit and his court ate and drank. Rarely did he pay any attention to the fights as he had eyes only for food and his new bride. He noted with great pride that many other men also noticed her, casting their sideways glances, with envy. The queen herself basked in their gazes. Rarely did any one see a Strabian woman outside of Egi and for that alone she drew whispers and stares, besides her great beauty. _Let them stare and choke themselves on envy._ Khalit had plans they did not dream of. He would build a great dynasty and one day all his sons would rule half the world.

"How is my lord the king? Is it not a wondrous day? So many souls would go to the halls of glory today." She said, her voice was low and mellifluous like honey.

"Souls who are loyal to the king in every way. I wonder that everyone in your court is so loyal, like the common people who go to death and glory without being asked. Yet, some who should set the supreme example in loyalty to the king have created so dangerous a commotion." Said her father. He sipped on a goblet of wine, his jeweled rings glinting in the sunlight.

"What do you mean?" Asked Khalit.

"I only mean that a wife of yours seems to hold sway here, though she is no longer queen. Will she sway them from my daughter? One wonders how she managed. I do not say this to offend you, Your Greatness, but it is a matter of serious concern to me. Why, at home a woman, especially a wife of such high stature is always attended closely."

"She is attended so."

"Like I have said, I wonder at some of your court. Why did they allow this to happen? If something else were to upset the Lady Diti, I mean no disrespect to her, I am sure she is a fine woman, but an angry, humiliated woman in one's house can be a dangerous creature. . . you must understand. I am only concerned for the welfare of my daughter and your future _royal_ sons."

"We have nothing to fear from the Lady Diti, Lord Seht. It is the Ainash who have created this controversy."

"Yet, she seemed to have had full reign at court while you were away. I hear she used it to help the people, a noble deed, but things can change with two queens at court. Once a queen, can a woman truly accept being put aside?" Tenan said, giving the king a sidelong glance. He and Taliat had the same dark eyes with those strange lights in them. Tenan pointed and exclaimed in surprise as another head was raised in tribute to the king.

"It would seem the people of the sand and salt appreciate their king and the glory he bestows upon them." He said, smiling and stroking his long, braided beard. Khalit sat back, took a drink and looked from the father to the daughter.

"I have said she will cause no more trouble and that is the end of it. Your point is made, Lord Seht. A wise point. Still, let us not speak of unpleasant things on such a day. That is for another day." He hated Tenan and wondered when the old mummy would finally pass on from the world. _If it takes too long, he may need some help._ Khalit thought.

"Surely, you are right, Your Greatness." Said Tenan.

"Glory and hope. What more can men ask for? That and a beautiful wife." Said Khalit, turning to Taliat to gaze upon her again. She smiled with coral lips and milk white teeth.

"A wife and queen that will give you many strong sons with the power of maned young lions and the glory of gods in them." She said, her dark amber eyes flashing hints of light in the sun. This excited the king. _Sons from her are the key, not only to securing my throne but she herself it is said descended from illustrious stock!_ Her father had said that their very line from the beginning was fathered by a demigod of the underworld. The "god" part is what concerned Khalit. Where he or she came from was of no concern to him. Greatness he would have, at any cost. He could just taste it and she was his key. Both father and daughter smiled at him with those same strange eyes of fire. Perhaps it was really true about their family line. He sat back and enjoyed the games, savoring a goblet of sweet red wine.

As soon as Uwain had left, Amat prayed fervently to any god who would listen for a chance to survive this disaster. He did not know whether to hate her even more or continue to praise her for his predicament. Amat looked at the great wall and its rows of weapons. Axes, swords, scimitars, lances, spears, knives, scourges and whips of varying sizes and make; all well used and maintained. Amongst the practicing of tried and true fighters who had little fear in the arena there were the new people, those who could not pay, families and the elderly. Soft crying and whimpering could be heard amongst them. Amat felt a twinge of guilt, which immediately angered him. If he survived this day, those priests would pay for getting him into this. He pulled the vial of venom from its satchel and stepped out of the jailer's room. He glared at the crowds of fearful people in the cells around him. There were hundreds of them. He addressed them.

"Listen to me! I have been given a command from the king! I must choose a man, a champion to go before you to fight for all of us! If this man wins, all of us will gain back our lives. Who will go for us? I will give you the chance to choose a few men amongst yourselves and out of those I shall choose the one." Silence.

"Is there no one willing to fight for their Ainash brethren?" He asked bitterly. "Or shall we all die today in the arena?"

"Who said you will die?" Asked one man from the crowd.

"The king has decided this. If the champion loses we all go to the lions. You, me and even my guards. But I have a way out for us all. It is this!" He lifted up the vial to show them. "Serpent's venom upon the blade will give any strong man willing to face the arena a powerful edge against any wild beast. It can fell a _yaryebu_!" The thick silence broke into furious whispering, then the loud hum of murmuring rose among the men.

"Venom of the giki, is it?" Asked the man.

"Yes."

"And how sharp are your weapons there?"

"Are you volunteering?"

"Perhaps. I have a request. There is no man among us, besides myself who can fight in the arena or has skill with a blade who does not have a wife and children. You have rounded up the aged and family men with wives and children and aged parents to care for. Except me."

"You are a warrior?"

"I can wield an ax, a scimitar and a sword and I can ride a horse as well as any tribesman of the grassy steppes."

"What is your request?"

"If I win this battle, I want to know who was behind this. I know this order to have the people thrown into the prisons did not come from the king."

"And how would you know? The king changes his mind as the wind changes direction."

"Come now, sir! We are all dead men! Do not play!"

"It was your priesthood responsible for it."

"They are not my priesthood."

"Very well. I will grant you your request. Bring this man out!" A guard unlocked the gate and the man began speaking and saying to those gathered around him: "Courage men! We have not been given a choice in this. We can die as valiant men or as cowards and a coward has no honor. If I die, then face your deaths valiantly. Choose for yourselves what you will do if that time comes. As for me, I will die a valiant, mighty man in battle!"

"May God give you even more mightiness!" Cried out an old man. He bowed to the old man. Then he strode out and stood before Amat. He was of average height but solid and sinewy strong, very muscular. He looked stout enough.

"Win the challenge and kill the lions and I will give you the names of those that wrote up the execution order." Amat said, lowering his voice.

"Give me your word as oath."

"I am Amat Zerehet, son of Alat. You have my oath by Hec's golden chariot. I shall do it."

"Good."

"What is your name?"

"Rhajit Ka' Mahaj. I am of the Karig." Said the man. Amat stood taller now. He had not heard an oath or made an oath or named his family name in many years. It stirred something in him.

"My father is from the land of Egi, a Strabian." Amat led him to the wall of weapons. He suddenly saw them in a different light, as sacred things, the path to life or death to meet glory in the fires of Hec or to meet the elder brother instead, in the Black Fires. He shuddered. They now walked a thin line and it balanced on the venom being placed carefully on the weapon chosen and on the skill of this man.

"You must choose two. Choose your weapons and I will anoint them with the venom. Do not let the weapon touch your skin. And may the gods be with you."

When Rhajit walked through the gate and entered the arena he could hear the deafening roar of the crowds baying for blood. He was numb to their wild cries. It was as if they were merely a haze of specters. The sudden presence of harsh sunlight nearly blinded him but he had the axes firmly in hand, feeling their tough, hide grips. He swung them as if they were extensions of his arms, ignoring the jeers and whistles. He refused to look in the direction of the king or anything else but kept his eye focused on the north gate. He was told two lions would come out from there. He had two axes, sharp as the best sword blades and iced with venom. His father had taught him hunting and how to wield weapons. When he was ten he had killed a small desert lion and his brothers helped him skin it. He still wore the tunic, fifteen years later. If he died perhaps he would find himself resurrected in paradise to meet Airend-Ur and he would have questions for Him. Like why did He allow such things like these to happen to His people? Rhajit immediately pushed these thoughts away. There was no time to be angry with the gods now. There were lives to save, if he could manage it, his own the least of these. The immense statues were the second things he saw after coming from the dimness of the prisons. The whiteness of the stone was bright like fire. There were the three sister-wives of Hec; the queen, Hetar. She who judged whether one was worthy to go to the halls of fire, Helia, the second wife that healed and bounded up the dead to go to Hec or to the Black Fires, Hari the youngest who rode, like Hec, a golden chariot and took the souls counted worthy by her sisters in her chariot to the halls where Hec himself stood and judged finally for himself and allowed entry. At least that was what those who worshiped him believed. Then there were Hec's brothers, Heros, the forger and maker of all weapons and Hinurayu the singer of lays and songs of glory and battle. Then there was the unnamed one of the Black Fires. Rhajit worshiped no god and viewed it all as useless. It enraged him that any god would demand the innocent lives of men and women just to sit in some hall drinking and eating. Perhaps if he died he would go there and then he would have questions for Hec as well. He shook these thoughts away and steadied himself as the gates at the other end began to lift. It seemed to take forever. Rhajit's eyes began to adjust to the light and he shifted his attention to both his sight and his sense of smell. Finally, two lions strode out into the arena, one roaring and shaking his great mane. Rhajit suddenly felt his bowels turn and the knots turn over in his stomach. He had never had to face two predators before.

"If there is a god in the heavens, be with me now. Help me save these people and myself, if you will do nothing else." He drew a deep breath as the crowd grew quiet and he took his stance, the axes ready, heavy in his hands. The barest stains of the venom created odd waves of color patterns in the metal. The bolder lion came at a gallop. His mind extinguished all conscious thought and became a swirling red storm of instinct and emotion. He raced forward at the lion, his left arm over his chest to protect against a lunge attack against his throat. He did not have time for more than one or two blows and he was thankful for the fearfully sharp iron blades. He leaped up like the joyful rams at play he often saw in his childhood – the young men of the Karig tribes were known for jumping many feet high like the mountain red-horned rams. His arms flew up beside him like wings and he landed on his feet, painfully, right behind the beast. The lion, turned quick as lightening and reared up and pounced upon him as he drove the axes with all his might into the beast's underbelly. The lion roared as he dug the blades in but could not push any further. The lion had bitten into the side of his head but the venom worked its evil quickly. As it tried to break his neck, sinking its teeth into his skin, its body grew rigid. Rhajit screamed, in pain, in fear and exhilaration and rolled himself out from under the lion's weight. It roared again but this time in pain from the venom. It's eyes had the look of rage as it snarled at him. He hated to kill an animal for the amusement of lazy city people and such a majestic one at that. Somewhere, a pride of lionesses wondered where their king was. It's roars turned into wails. He felt his own hot blood streaming from the side of his head. The lion had ripped a gash in his scalp. In a rage against the crowd he thought to finish the beast quickly when in the corner of his eye he saw movement. It was the other lion moving in for the kill. Rhajit was bleeding, his body hurting from the mauling with the first lion and blood was in his eyes. His soul was emboldened again and he lept on his feet. The second lion, younger and smaller than the first came at him, fangs bared. It leaped forward and then instead of pouncing, swiped his chest with long claws, ripping his leather-hide armor and then jumping to the side and circling around again. They circled each other for what seemed like an eternity with the crowd in rapt attention. He paid no heed to anything or anyone outside of their deadly circle. He only heard his own heart beat in his ears and the snarls of the lion before him. Sweat poured off him like water. The axes handles felt damp in his hands. He felt himself tiring from the loss of blood. He kept his eyes on the beast and said a silent prayer to Airend-Ur. The sun was high across the sky, glittering like a bright white gemstone. So bright, in fact, that Rhajit saw his opportunity. The sunlight glinted off the polished metal of his axes. He turned them over. Suddenly the lion came in for the attack but stopped for a moment, as if to look for him, blinded by the fierce flash of sunlight. He would have only one chance. Like an attacking bird of prey Rhajit leaped in the air and swiped the lion's back with a hard blow from one of his axes. It roared in pain and rage and jumped at him but he was just out of reach. He landed on the ground on his back and the lion pounced upon him and held his arm fast in its teeth and would not let go. Rhajit had dropped one of the axes and shouted in agony and exhilaration but the other ax he used to slit a gash across the side of lion's head, opening a long cut and drawing blood, infecting it with the serpent venom. He nearly came close to cutting himself with it. The lion loosened its bite, ripping out a small chunk of his arm, staggered and rolled over. Rhajit then turned over, with great difficulty, crawled to pick up the other ax and he buried it deep, with all his might with his uninjured arm into the young lion's neck taking off the head in four powerful blows. His own strength, which was great, shocked him in that moment. The crowd screamed in elation. Then, with great difficulty, he took the head of the other lion. He was now trembling, ripped and bleeding and sweating profusely. It was over. He saw the king wave a white silk. He was the victor. Garlands were landing at his feet and there was the roar of fevered adoration from the people. But he had no love for them or the king. He felt the feral, animal-like instinct subsiding within, finally, and his capacity to think reappeared. And the only thing on his mind was revenge. Now he would have the names of the greedy cowards who caused this uproar. And he made a silent vow. If Amat did not keep his oath he would seek him out in a dark alley somewhere and take his head, shrink it and hang it from his belt.

His eyesight became blurred and he soon saw the world turning dark.

When he woke again, he was lying on a hard table, back in the arena dungeons.

"Awake?" It was Amat. A physician was dressing his wounds. He felt heavy with drowsiness and a mighty soreness all over his body.

"What is happening?" Rhajit mumbled.

"You were kissed by the gods today and survived. Which is why you are here and not in the halls of Hec and why the rest are not in the Black Fires." Something stung him greatly, an ointment that the physician was administering one of the nasty wounds on his arm. The pungency of the strong ointments flooded his nose.

"Hold still!" The physician demanded. "Some of your wounds are showing the beginning signs of infection. You are not out of sight of death yet, my brave friend."

"You may have anything you request, Rhajit! The king has granted it! And when you step out of these dungeons, you will be a king!" Said Amat happily, sharpening a blade.

"I do not care. I told you what I wanted. I also require something else. The livers, the kidneys and the hearts and the brains of the lions I killed. Get them for me, Amat. I will have them." He mumbled through the pain relieving draught the physician had given him.

"It is done. They are being slaughtered as we speak, meat for the poor in the crowds but you will certainly get all the things you request. They will be sent to the Victor's House. What do you need them for anyway? You want to know your fortune?" _Fortunes!_ Rhajit groaned in disgust at this city man. _Have they completely forgotten who they were?_

"No." He said finally. "What I will do with them is my business. Just give me what you promised me." The physician squeezed and washed out the cleaning cloths and washed his other wounds, dressed them with more garlic ointment and wrapped them. Rhajit winced but remained silent.

"You must stay in one place. You cannot go about any time soon until the infection resolves itself. It must heal, which means you must rest! Else this time you will find your soul wandering the gray between-way, with no one to guide you. No glory in that. Now, you feel no sharp pain because I gave you a sedative. Rest, I say for the king will require it. He is mighty impressed with your prowess young man and you have a bright future ahead, the gods willing. Your business, whatever it is, can wait." Rhajit grunted stubbornly. The physician put away his instruments and ointments and left.

"So, you want to know the names of the men who were behind this?"

"Yes."

"It was two men, Ainash priests, Shishak and Teman. They gave the order to execute the people who could not pay the tax. They forged the execution document and made it look as if it came from the king."

"Shishak and Teman. Teman and Shishak. Good. I will remember." Mumbled Rhajit. Amat narrowed his eyes, watching him intently, but said nothing. Rhajit wondered how Amat would even know this unless he also had something to do with it. And why would the king punish Amat along with the Ainash? But he did not question him further. Rhajit closed his eyes. He would kill them one day. It would not be easy to get to them but he would find a way. And then, perhaps he would come after Amat, the snake that sat before him. There was a sharp knock on the door, interrupting his dark thoughts.

"A carriage has come for the champion! You are to be taken to the Victor's House!" Said one of the prison guards.

"Let us all drink to his health, and our lives!" Shouted another one.

"The Victor's House." said Amat, laughing. "Lucky man! There you will train, relax and be oiled and massaged, be given the choicest foods and live in luxury, Rhajit! And the women who come there every night. . ." They came and took the reluctant victor and loaded him carefully into the palanquin. He was too weak to fight them off so he accepted the fanfare, silently plotting how he would get to Shishak and Teman. He was still undecided if Amat should join them in death. Rhajit thought that his head would still make a good decoration hanging from his belt.

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

The past few weeks Anet had started her training under Ilim, whom some of the scions and many of the people in Gamina started calling The Prophet. Since he had come, the readings of the Law and the Writings had gone to him and he read with such vigor and charisma that he drew rapt attention from the crowds. Anet was sent to work with the guardian scions on how to wield weapons. She felt sore all over for days but she'd never had this much excitement. It was even more fun than perusing the citadel library, especially even the more fanciful sounding and exciting parts of the Holy Aishanna. She pretended when she wielded her skinny, wooden scimitar that she was fighting the great Gikunda-giki or the Lord dragon of the Llordis Sea. But each night she went to the citadel apothecary or to Tala's adjoining rooms for relief as she had many bruises, scrapes and sore body parts. When she wasn't practicing swordplay she was at her history lessons, same as all other scions. Or she had another new thing to do – surveying the land all around from the citadel. Ilim demanded that she pay close attention to certain land features, which direction she saw them, what was around them and at night for a few days she was made to sleep outside. Kaisha slept with her for comfort the first three days but after that she had to do it alone. He always questioned her on what she heard, the sounds and what animals they came from, what she smelled. She was already familiar with certain plants and what they did so what this was all for, she did not know. Nor did he enlighten her but it was far better than peeling beets.

However, after Night Prayers this night there was something special in store. Ilim had told her to pack a sack and wait for him by his house and so she did. He took her by mule to a place outside the citadel but still within the confines of the town and he had given her instruction. Three hard boiled eggs he had hidden and told her the features of each place where each egg was hidden and she was charged with finding them. The first egg was easy to find. It was only a few paces away from his house, near a cropping of red long grass. Anet tasted the long grass. She recognized its sharp, spicy flavor. She caught wind of a slight sulfurous scent and figured the egg was hidden within and went cautiously foraging through the grass toward the scent. She was right. She picked it up and put it in her sack. The first moon was high and the second moon was rising. She saw better than she had thought she would. Then she went for the second egg. He told her it was hidden on a hill north of the citadel but before the town wall. From where she stood, in the moons' light she could see the black shadows of the mountains they'd studied earlier against the dark horizon. Anet pulled her gray mantle over her head and shoulders as it was getting slightly chilly. When she was sure she saw no one, she made her way toward what she thought was the hill, northward. A tiny moth fluttered nearby. She watched it's sylph-like shadow against the ground and followed it, nearly forgetting the egg. _"Observe the beasts. They know the hidden way."_ She heard Ilim's voice in her head. Moths knew how to hide themselves in plain sight. At first its wings were a delicate, gleaming white. She followed it as it made its staggered path along the way. It finally rested upon a long blade of grass, crawled underside and folded its wings. Its color then blended into that of the grass blade, the faint light emanating from it had gone out, and she could not see it any longer. Anet looked at the underside of her covering garment. It was brown on the inside and gray on the outside. Perhaps she could be like the moth. She slipped along as quietly as she could until she found a large dug out hole in a clump of the tall grasses. She hid among them, flattening herself against the ground. She stayed there under the moonlight watching the stars for a long time until she heard a shuffling sound in the grasses. Peeking out from her hiding place she saw in the distance the shadow of an animal which made her heart beat faster. A lone wolf come up from the desert? A lion from the plains? How could it get in here with the gates to the town closed? She watched intently and as soon she could make out the silhouette better it looked more like a wild dog. It's eyes shined like starry pinpoints. It snuffled and sniffed here and there. She quietly lay upon her sack to hide the scent of the egg as much as she could. She had brought a blade with her but was afraid to use it. She pulled it out anyway in case it came too close. She had learned not to scream or make noise during these lessons by getting a few beatings from Ilim for making too much noise. He told her one day she may have to find her way in the desert alone and it would not do to jump at every sight and sound she heard. She hated him for that. Soon the creature moved on. She would have to train harder with weapons in case she encountered an animal looking for meat on one of these night lessons. When she was sure the animal had truly moved from the area she lay on her back to watch the night sky. She gazed into the eyes of the moons and the far stars dotting the sky. Was He even higher than all this? She closed her eyes, no longer listening to the night sounds. The night reminded her of the dark backdrop in her dreams. She closed her eyes and prayed about them. _What did they mean? Who is the dark man? Is he real? Was he wicked? What did he want?_ she asked fervently in her young heart for an answer, for she was confused. A few moments afterward, she went back to studying the night around her. Like a tiny ringing bell it came to her after a few hours, quite out of nowhere, one word: purpose.

"Purpose." She whispered. _Purpose_. She soon fell asleep. When she woke it was barely dawn but she could see the hill in the north clearly. The first moon was slipping beneath the horizon and the second moon was rising once again. The crimson line of dawn was bleeding in. It was dark enough to still give her privacy and quiet from the sounds of people and animals stirring but light enough to see shadows clearly. She could make out the sulfurous scent of egg, and not just the one she had already collected. Anet bounded toward the hill and digging carefully through the bushes and tufts of grass she found the second egg and then she ran home back to the citadel. Tala who was waiting for her, let her in.

"Child, I was so worried! These lessons! If you ask me the prophet should be ashamed having a young girl out there by herself!" She clucked. Anet smiled tiredly.

"Come child, let's get you something to eat in the kitchen. Medeah has something prepared for you." Anet followed her and gave Medeah the eggs. She was given one of the eggs, a generous piece of bread and some milk which she ate hungrily and then went to bed. Anet now slept mostly during the mornings, after Morning Prayer.

However, later this morning she was beaten again.

"Why?" She cried.

"There were three eggs you were sent to find! Why did you come back with only two?" He snapped. Her face fell. She had forgotten the third egg.

"Oh."

"Is that all you have to say? When you are out on the desert and you must use your wits with nothing else but the windstorm of the open desert and God's eye upon you, you cannot afford to forget anything or to play around! It is life or death beyond these walls. Many a man has died because of not respecting the majesty of the desert or the dangers of the world around him. A desert prophet must be even more careful to respect not only the wild but the Holy Word of God. If He asks that you make a trek here or there and does not tell you why immediately and you do not do the way He asks, it could mean your very life. Obedience to the desert trains one for obedience to God. It is the way of life, Anet. If you are to be a prophetess, you cannot afford to be careless."

"Desert prophetess?"

"What in the world do you thing I am training you for, child?" Anet shrugged. She had momentarily forgotten her sore bottom.

"It is in you to foretell the future Anet, to expound on the Word of God and to lead the people to righteousness, like me. He is raising up prophets once again in the land. . .what is the matter?"

"Kaisha said that people no longer have the power to do that any longer. That no one is special enough."

"Do not listen to foolishness! You may be able to listen and see things others cannot because it is God who gives the messages. It does not come from you or me or anyone else. Any man who boasts of such gifts without giving praise to God is either a liar or he works with demons. It is the spirit world that gives messages in dreams and we are simply portals for those messages, much like a man uses the ram's horn to call the people to congregate. A god may use a human to give a message. Beware which side you are on, whether it is good or bad, so that you are not used as an instrument of wicked spirits, Anet. Of those, there are many in this world."

"Like the Unnamed One?" She asked quietly.

"Speak not of him!"

"Can I try again tonight, Father Ilim?" His expression softened for a moment.

"Yes. And this time do not let yourself be distracted. You must not forget. This is training but one day you will be on your own out there and enemies will abound against you, seen and unseen. You must be bold like the ram, cautious like the serpent and wise as the hawk. Even those touched by God can die if they behave foolishly."

" _'Do not test the hand of God less He is angered and let you fall.'_ " She recited a passage of the book of Izingu, written by the scribe Izingu, leader of the Makebites, who took the true faith to them long ago.

"That is correct. Soon I must leave here, Anet. I have duties in Jhis."

"Will you go back to the temple?"

"You are bold. I will give you that. Perhaps that is why you were chosen though it may have been better to choose a boy. In any case, no, I will not go back to the temple. I go back to denounce the priests at the temple for their evil and treachery against God and the people. I do not know if I will come back. I might survive the message or they may kill me for it. Never the less, I am commanded by God to give them this message. One day, perhaps when you are a woman the temple will be swept clean from the evil that resides there now. It is up to us to speak boldly for what is right even against those who claim to know the Law and the Writings." Anet nodded. It all sounded very scary to her.

"Why would you want to do it if you might die? Won't they kill you as soon as you get there?"

"Not before the message of God is given. We each fight our own monsters and must be fearless. Not all monsters breathe fire or ice or have scales and sharp teeth. Not all warriors use swords. Some use words and visions and fight monsters that look like men." _Monsters in men_. Anet thought on this.

"Well. Make sure you eat well and attend to your studies Anet. Instructress Helga and Mother Berenice will continue with your lessons. I will write to you instructions by falcon when the need arises for more information and instruction. You are well read for one so young. Be better read and continue to memorize what you read for one day you will have to give your own proclamations against wickedness and you will have to be bold about doing it. You may not always have access to scrolls and books in a warm library." Said Ilim, then he got up and left on his own business for the day. She was both relieved and a little sad. She did not like this man but he had a great presence and zeal that impressed her. Still, it would be better to get her lessons through the guardian scions and Mother Berenice. They weren't as grim as he was.

Each morning, afternoon and night there was the ram's horn call to prayer, the recitation of the Law and the Writings. Ilim had known this ritual all his life yet he missed the elemental, primitive ways of the worship of the wild peoples who followed it. It was the very center of life and brought them to life, a circle in which everyone danced around and around. Not the stilted ritualistic mummery at the temple which had come to mean nothing but behind it was blackness. It struck in him a fervor he'd thought vanished. Here, there were no court intrigues, politicking, gaming or bribes for this and that. It reminded him of his time living with the Karig, teaching and instructing many children of the tribe and his thoughts went to Khalit, who rejected the old ways for the world. A world now that stood condemned and one that Khalit helped to further corrupt. It saddened him. The king was now his enemy. He packed his few things and went to see Mother Berenice one last time.

"My sister, I shall leave you now. I will write to you and send instructions for Anet, as they come to me."

"You go to pave the way." She said smiling serenely. He bowed his head slightly.

"One never knows what is in store during tumultuous times as these." He said.

"It is strange too since we are doing the roiling and tumult!" She said. Ilim smiled at this.

"Say not that we are, but that God is." He chided, She laughed gently.

"My brother, you are right, you are right. I meant to ask you, how is Anet coming along?"

"She is coming along all right. She needs to concentrate better but she is young. She is also sharp. I have arranged for two of the warriors to help in her training. Night training, weapons training, also her regular studies of history and the holy book. Concentrate on the prophets, the sayings and the histories especially, for her. Memorization is important. Take her aside and train her privately if you can. God has made it known to me that she shall be the first desert prophetess raised up." Mother Berenice's eyes widened with excitement.

"Long have I desired to see this day when a desert prophet would come again. I thought I'd never see it and now I see two before me. A desert prophetess. Think the Ainash will hate that?"

"Who should care? They have acted disgracefully and have not kept the ways of holiness. Because of them some of the people are losing their way. I have seen many evil things in my dreams. Some of our people have even turned to other gods. Gods that require far more than readings and prayers. Has she come to you about her dreams, Mother Berenice?"

"Not yet. I have encouraged her to come to me but she has not truly done so."

"She may and she will need your guiding hand through prayer in understanding them." He said and sighed heavily. "Well, I must go."

"Do you have enough food for your journey?"

"I do and I thank you and your sisters and your kindness to a poor brother of the desert." He said.

"Then I hope to see you again. May there be peace within you, brother. You are always welcome here."

"And may there be peace within you and with this house." He said. With that he took his leave upon a mule. The townspeople and the people of the land came up to see him off.

"Be careful, father!" A man said.

"Jhis is a dangerous and evil place! Badness abounds everywhere there!" Cried a woman. Ilim smiled but did not say a word. Gaminites were good-natured but very provincial and firmly set in their ideas about anything outside of their province. But there were many good people even in Jhis and many were not part of the faithful. He was being sent not only to warn and denounce the wicked but to give heart to the faithful and to others inclined to listen, to teach the ignorant of the God whose arm was coming to crush the scorpions' nests and rebuild a kingdom. A prophet was now in the land.

"Perhaps now we shall see the prophecy come true." Said the people as they watched the prophet riding upon his mule down the hill that morning and toward the city.

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

Celebrations had gone on far longer than any one had anticipated after the royal wedding. The city was drunk on wild abandon, of the pleasures of food and flesh. It was in this state that Ilim had come back and he did not hold back. He took his position at the gate of the temple and preached denunciations against the excesses of the priesthood and their hypocrisy with a voice like that of a demi-god, frightening - and angering - many. There were times when people perceived that his whole countenance glowed with white fury. This drew crowds, especially some who were awaiting prophecy. It also drew the curious who thought he might perform some wondrous trick.

It also drew the ire of the royal court and the Golden Temple and the priests sought to have him killed.

King Khalit found it all amusing - as Ilim had not yet turned his attention upon him - and let the prophet be, busying himself with every pleasure he could find or create. It was now seven months after the wedding but to the king and queen life was blissful and full of frivolity. They traveled to watch the camel races on the western outskirts of the city, setting up great pavilions for the court to stay at the games which was extended for weeks. There were chariot races and horse races at the arena and much gaming that went on in those races of which the king won and lost great amounts of gold and silver, wild revelries at night which extended to the streets, from noble to commoner. Part of this revelry was encouraged because of the new temple being built to Elyshe and Nimnet, at the request of the queen and her father. They encouraged the people to enjoy themselves as the queens of the night, it was said, would be well pleased by it. Cedar from the forests of the south of Hybron, strong Hybronian iron from the north, red stone and great amounts of silver were imported to Jhis and the temple building began in earnest after the first week of the wedding celebrations and was still in progress. Queen Taliat was now seven months pregnant and her father's counselors and fortune-tellers had all assured the king that she was carrying a son. They had shown him many signs and even the queen herself was preparing for the son to be born, having her body painted with the symbols of her house to aid in good fortune for the birth. All this swayed the king's heart toward her even more.

"Rejoice my love and do not hold back your hand from doing anything you desire for you shall have a strong and worthy son!" She said to him in the night when he came to visit her.

And when the king was away she and her servants studied the lay of the palace and the movements of everyone in it.

"So much freedom the former queen must have had. To come and go as one pleases. So wonderful for a woman."

"He will not allow it for Your Greatness. She has made it difficult." Said the maidservant as she slowly painted another falcon on the center of her swollen belly. Her hands, feet, legs, arms and back were covered in painted symbols and family names. A mute maidservant polished the queen's bronze and silver mirrors, filled her many perfume flasks of alabaster with myrrh, frankincense and other oils and perfumes and ground the kohl and brilliantly colored dye powders for the queen's ivory and stone cosmetic palettes. A faint shifting noise was heard in the lidded basket that sat on a stone table by the bed. Vala stiffened slightly, switching her tail sharply while watching the basket carefully.

"What shall we do about Salayma, mistress?" The servant woman giggled, an unnerving, high-pitched sound.

"Ah, Salayma. I had almost forgotten her. Did she not have a daughter for the king?" She said softly.

"She did. Or so I hear."

"I have heard that she would boast even to the face of the former queen. How unbecoming. I shall invite her to dine with me tonight, Setimet. Use the red paint there, mixed with the venom." The queen pointed to a red stone palette on the bed. "Salayma. Yes. I have a plan, Setimet."

"You do, Your greatness?" Asked Setimet eagerly.

"Yes. She will not understand her sudden and mysterious powers over me after supper." The queen smiled slyly. Vala made a concerned mewl, looking up at her.

"Do not worry over the basket, my beloved Vala. I will attend to it, later, when the time is right. Besides Setimet, it is Diti that I actually want to speak to." The maidservant giggled.

"He has been in there for some time, mistress. Perhaps the Lady Diti would like a visit." The queen's gaze was cool and unblinking. Setimet finished painting.

"Her heart is with her people. Yet, she has changed a thing and now that I have taken her place, I find it is not to my liking. My father would have it so, kept in dim and luxurious rooms with no windows to the outside world, as if I were still unmarried and not a queen."

"It is too bad this thing has been done. She is like an old hen who cannot lay eggs. She should die!"

"Shh! Your tongue is loose, Setimet. Would you like to be like Yadua over there?" She pointed to the sullen, mute maid- servant who did not even look up but continued on with her tasks.

"Oh no, no. . ." Cried Setimet.

"Be quiet. We must tread carefully with Lady Diti. She is no small matter." She said, stroking Vala'a sleek black fur. "Is it, Vala?" Vala purred and the queen laughed, low and throaty. Then she set the cat aside. Vala padded to her pallet of pillows under the bed. The queen gestured to the little table.

"Bring me the basket."

Tenan slept lightly that night. A soothing breeze bathed his damp skin with the blessed breath of the queens of the night sky. He had not thought he would spend so much time here but it was time to go back home. He wanted to die on his own soil in Egium. He had decided some weeks ago that he would stop taking Lady Sawda's potions. He was bone tired and ready to pass on and join the gods but he still had a few last preparations for his tomb to oversee. But he could not sleep. The thin voluminous curtains at the windows billowed and flew open like wide, delicate wings. The first eye of the moons looked on, high in the sky, casting shadows in the room. He lifted himself up with great effort and reached for the small silver goblet on the stand by his bed. He poured a bit of water from the ewer and drank. It was refreshingly cool and he was glad of it, considering how hot the last few days had been, even this far into fall. _An unusually hot year._ he thought. But the nights were gradually becoming chillier. His daughter, married to the king and pregnant, his family now had the throne in their grasp. _A barbarian on the throne._ He sniffed. It was no small matter to allow her to marry, after all he could not say no and he hated the thought of his daughter even being touched by the heathen but the throne was at stake. There was wisdom in it. Though they hated each other, his brother would take over family power when he died. Unless the king said otherwise. His brother was still far superior to any savage. The family name itself would go on and Strabians would eventually rule Hybron as they had ruled Egi.Tenan laughed to himself. _Egi has won out after all_. He would have a letter sent to his brother as soon as he arrived home. He would leave later this week but there needed to be family influence here in Jhis. The more, the better. He sipped water, dreaming on the glories of times past of Egium and the famed Night Markets. He looked down at his arm. In the moonlight he could still see the wounds made by the knife to draw blood for the painting ritual. All precautions had to be taken to protect this child. A woman was but a vessel, some better than others but all in the service of creating heirs. The counselors had told him she had done well in producing what looked to be a healthy son by their portents. If she hadn't he would have found a way to have her strangled for shaming him.

Immersed in thought he did not notice the small shadow that crept slowly into his room. Vala's shining eyes were the only thing visible in the darkness away from the moonlit windows. She slipped under the bed. After her, it came, sliding across the floor just has silently as she, long and dark, it's tongue slipping in and out, sensing the air around it and picking up the scent of its target. She crept close to Tenan's feet to mark where the target sat. It stared at Vala and stopped. And then it suddenly glided across the floor with frightening swiftness, reared up and made the deadly strike. Tenan cried out but the venom worked nearly as fast as his sudden, shocked cry, which was cut off as his body began to stiffen and turn white. He dropped the goblet and fell over into the bed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on land. After some moments he finally drew his last struggling breaths as the venom worked quickly, spreading through his body with deadly efficiency with each exhalation. Vala slipped from the room. The serpent, its jeweled colors dulled in the dimness of night, followed lazily behind.

Rhajit enjoyed himself at the Victor's House. The food was the best that could be found in the city besides the palace and he was allowed to heal and relax for as long as was needed until he was strong enough for the battles in the arena. The organs of the lions had long been delivered and he fed upon it, gaining strength every day to the amazement of the other warriors. He had gained the esteem and respect of most of them when he was challenged by several and quickly dispatched them. Everyone wanted to meet him and he had his pick of nearly any woman in the city, of which he gladly took. But Rhajit had business. He was practically a prisoner as he was not allowed to leave the city since he was the city's top victor, to his dismay. He "belonged to the palace" and now existed for the king's pleasure, as he was told by one of the house guards. Other than that, he had command of the house, money, the best trainers, invitations to train for the chariot teams, everything a man could want. He also found that he had a way to achieve his ends through this ascent in status. He had befriended a guard who knew a few people and a few things in the bowels of the city. Day after day, week after week they would talk and Rhajit would invite him to eat with him. It was one afternoon after a massage that he approached the matter fully. He was eating roasted figs and lamb and invited the guard to eat with him, as usual. He poured a rich, spicy olive oil over the meat, anointing it and poured the guard wine and they talked and laughed of gaming, childhood mishaps, troubles and fights. Soon Rhajit came to what he actually wanted to know.

"Do you know anything about a man named Teman? He is one of the priests of the Golden Temple."

"What about him?"

"I need to find this man. As you know, long ago I left my family to come to the city. They have since moved away and I do not know where they are. He used to be an old family friend. He may have some news or know where they are."

"An old friend, eh? I have no idea who this man is." Rhajit reached into a large satchel by the table and set several gold coins in front of him.

"Perhaps you know someone who can find out?" The man grabbed the coins and looked at Rhajit with a knowing grin.

"I may be able to make inquiries as to who he is. What do you need?"

"Where he resides, when he comes and goes from the temple. Be discreet. I do not want questions coming back to me."

"Huh. Friend, you say?" The guardian asked dryly. Rhajit grinned.

"As long as I am here, there is more gold and silver, should I need more information. Do you foresee any problems?" Rhajit asked, sucking the fat off his fingers. The man smiled, showing a huge gap from teeth broken in a fight long ago.

"As long as there is gold, no problem at all."

. . .

The last one finally arrived. It was midnight but he called for tea service anyway. They would be here for some time.

"The streets are rife with rabble. Whores everywhere! When will it end? And since when does _Bakku_ call for us to meet?" Complained one of the nobles, a young man. The high priest, Silam Tybbl-Awat, gave him a disdainful look.

"Bakku is the king's messenger. If he has something to say I am sure it is important." Said one of the older noblemen.

"Do you come from a mud village that you should be astonished at the normal comings and goings in the city? So long as it does not affect what we do here why be concerned about what is in the street?" Said Silam. He ignored the snipe at Bakku. They were meeting in his father's home, one of the foremost nobles of the land. His father was once one of the ruling officials, one of the Kushimen, before the tyrant invaded the city and made himself king. They would never forgive King Khalit for this but they also feared him. And secretly looked for a way to bring about his downfall.

Bakku had called for the meeting. Months after the horror of the arena, nerves were still frayed to the very edge and tempers often flared at the temple. They needed to do something to ensure their own security. It was twice now he survived a death sentence under this tyrant and it was time to act before a third incident presented itself. And there was a way out.

Finally, all of the most important ones of the temple and the community had gathered, thirteen priests, including the high priest and a few of the most important noblemen. Tea was set out on the table by a servant. Bowls of water were set for washing, which they all did, religiously.

"So," began Silam, "Bakku. What shall we do?" Bakku rose. Everyone gathered was still visibly shaken.

"I have a message from the queen. Her father is dead. He died last night. Now listen to me carefully. The queen is ready to support us in our cause if we support her. The chief princes and officials of the court are low men like the tyrant himself and they support him. However, this support for the king is not strong among the men who came with the queen. She seeks allies in Hybron. We here, who have been robbed by this heathen on the throne and the queen also wish to see the proper order of things restored to the land. And a proper nobleman upon the throne."

"What of her uncle?" Asked one of the priests.

"What of him?"

"Won't he try to exert influence with the king now that her father is dead?"

"It is a possibility. . ."

"Rather, it is an eventuality." Interjected Silam.

"Not if we put our full support behind the queen and the Egians at court. Besides, he is intolerant to any people or religion not born of Egi. We have only an enemy in him. It is through her that we can gain control. Both we and she can take care of any trouble from him if we support her. She will need our help and we will need hers to rid the land of the tyrant. Besides, we have our own militia to deal with Teraht, should he decide to rouse himself and come to Hybron."

"And there are ways for a man to meet his end on the road." Said Shishak. This sent a wave of frank and relieved murmurs among the old men and oldest priests among them but some shot him dark looks.

"With the Egian warriors who came with the queen's house and the Hatchet Men, we have our own power base!" Said the young nobleman with excitement in his voice, banging the table with his fist.

"But is it strong enough to contend with the king's army? Or the queen's uncle and his army? The Hatchet Men are cutthroats and criminals, not a military force. If we move against him without surety of success it will be fatal for us and our families!" Said a priest named Zarhaz.

"It is still not enough. We need another lever. Something else is in the way that needs to be moved." Said Silam.

"What?"

"The king."

"That simple is it? Just move the king. And what will move the king? Can you move him?" Argued Zarhaz.

"He is easily moved enough." Said Shishak.

"Pah! That from a man who was nearly torn apart by lions in the arena, per the king's whim! We all were nearly finished because of your stupidity, Shishak!" Spat one of the priests, an elderly man named Garu.

"I see you had no issue with more coppers for the temple when we all went in to the king for that!" Countered Shishak.

"So what? You went too far and without our consent! We ought to have you and Teman removed from the council!" Shouted Zarhaz.

"Those two ought to be whipped!" Shouted another priest. Shishak turned dark with anger which only angered the others more. Emotions were running high again.

"Men, brothers! Calm yourselves, please! What matters now is that we are still alive and that next time," he stared pointedly at Shishak, " _none_ of us will act without the consent with everyone on the council." He reached out his hand toward Shishak.

"The seal, Shishak." Shishak reluctantly took the forged seal out of a fold in his robe and handed it to him.

"Next time I shall be more wise in who I allow to have such a precious thing." He said coldly and then he put the forged signet ring away in a small wooden box and continued. "Change is in the air. Can you not feel it? I have spoken with many wise men. Things will change in our favor." Said Bakku.

"What do you mean, Bakku? Have you some knowledge we do not?" Asked another priest.

"It is not just for desert madmen to get to know the times and the seasons. Many wise men of the temple of Hec I have spoken with. They have seen the death of the king in battle, a tower in Gamina. They see a change of power but have not spoken with anyone on the matter outside of their temple, besides me. These visions are in our favor. All we must do is bide our time and wait for an opportunity. We need not do _anything_ yet. " _The snake shall strike down the lion while he rears his mighty head._ " As the priests of Hec say." Said Bakku. At this many eager voices rose with questions.

"The death of the king. Are you sure?" Asked the high priest.

"It has been seen by the high priest of Hec himself."

"What mean you? Since when does a man of our community consult with fortune-tellers and sorcerers?" Zarhaz spat.

"Since I have an interest in keeping my family name, lands and position intact. You would do well to do the same, Zarhaz." Said Bakku.

"Yes, I agree with this. All we must do is wait." Said another nobleman.

"The snake. You mean this new woman of his?" Asked Silam, who seemed to be thinking the matter over seriously.

"The same." Said Bakku. "She is our key. She will help us rid ourselves of the tyrant. And there are others in the land who would support a plan to remove him from the throne. We have allies in different places but she is our key ally."

"Aich! A woman! Could not her father or uncles do the same for us?" Said the nobleman in disdain.

"They are not here. She is here and women are malleable."

"A puppet? How delightful." Said Silam. Some of the priests looked doubtful and Zarhaz looked downright unhappy.

"I do not like this. If she is the so-called snake to do this, perhaps she is not so malleable as you suppose?" He said. Silam waved his hand in dismissal of Zarhaz's protest.

"Prophecies contain obscure sayings and figures of speech, Zarhaz. Could your thoughts be any more concrete? So Bakku, how long must we wait for this vision?" He asked.

"Not long. There will come a time for us to act. It will be obvious when it comes. No need to act before thinking and before it is necessary, like some have." He gave Shishak another withering stare. Shishak was angry and shamed but remained silent. The high-priest cleared his throat.

"It would seem the way forward is easier than we thought. Signs and portents and seasons have always been heeded by our people. We have been saved from death by God Himself. Let us wait upon Him for the sign. Bakku has found allies all around. It is wise to listen to the signs and portents of all wise men. How do we know what will or will not benefit us if we do not consider all sides? Let us listen to his voice. I perceive that Bakku is speaking wisdom on this matter. This woman will be the key to eventually bringing the city-states back to the land."

"A queen in a city-state? How can this be?" Asked young nobleman.

"I see no reason why there cannot be a figure-head queen." Said Garu.

"We will have to contend with her family, eventually." Said another nobleman.

"A wall is built, one stone at a time, my brother. We will lift that stone when we get to it." Said Silam.

"The lord high-priest is wise like his father. Let us listen to his voice, brothers." Said one of the older noblemen and finally there seemed to be some consensus forming around Bakku's plans to back the queen.

"And also, let us listen to Bakku. I trust he knows the way out and forward for our purpose, being a friend of the queen." Said Garu and then he took a sip of tea. He motioned for Bakku to continue.

"Just smile and bow as before, my brothers. It will be only a matter of weeks and the king will die." Said Bakku. This gained their sudden and rapt attention. Bakku grinned. "Only a matter of weeks. . ."

The matter was birthed that very night. It was Rhajit who would unwittingly give the Ainash priesthood their chance. The guard at the Victor's House had various ties to rogues, good-for-nothing men, the arena and underground brotherhoods. He had eventually learned from a source who knew a man that worked at the arena Teman's movements; when Teman went into the temple and when he left to go home and all his other movements. Shishak, he found out, was not as easy to get to. Yet. _One villain at a time._ he thought. He had Teman followed for weeks until the night when he was ready to act. It was the twelfth day of the month of Aiphaz and the yearly harvest festival was coming in three weeks. The city was unusually busy and Rhajit saw this as his time to see about his business. Teman was often spied coming through the Southern Quarter on certain nights, on the whispered information from his guard. He slipped out under cloak and made his way toward the temple and waited patiently in the shadows. It was before Night Prayers and he was told that Teman had taken to leaving before the call to Night Prayers on the fifth night of the week – to visit the house of a woman named Seena. Rhajit, along with some fellow toughs came to see Seena one night and made it clear to her that he had business with Teman and that she would go along. He paid her handsomely to go along with his plan the following week. She saw that it was the one who had defeated the two lions in the arena and her demeanor changed from fear and suspicion to coyness.

That next fifth night he donned her veils while she lit a bar of incense, a few candles and strewed the petals of kata flowers in a path toward the bed. Rhajit sat himself on her bed behind the hangings, waiting. Sure enough came Teman, covered in a black, hooded cloak, a few hours later to his nightly affair with Seena.

"Seena." Teman called. The door was unlocked and Rhajit heard Teman's footsteps padding toward the bedroom. Rhajit unsheathed a long knife as Teman took off his robe and grappled at his tunic. Seena smiled and disrobed. A noisy stirring came up behind the scribe. The bed hangings flew back with a sharp whip of breeze against her back. When Teman looked up, Rhajit was upon him. Teman gasped and cried out.

"Whore! Deceiver!" Rhajit knocked the woman to the side and bore down on the scribe. Teman tried to run, now naked as the night but Rhajit pinned him to the ground on his belly. He wrapped a powerful arm around the man's head and with the knife in his left hand cut his throat. He got up and looked at the twitching body.

"What did you expect from a harlot?" He said with scorn. He glowered at the woman. "You did not see anything here." The woman nodded, a sly look crept across her face. He threw the bed hangings over the body and rolled it up. She gathered a robe and threw it over herself and sat in a nearby chair, watching him.

"If anyone comes asking, what am I to say?" She asked.

"He is a priest. Why would anyone come asking?" She laughed.

"Many priests have come in and out of here." Rhajit glared at her.

"Tell them he did not come in to you this week. That he never made it here."

"Are you not Rhajit the Ram? The one who killed two lions?" He did not answer her, heaving the dead weight over his back.

"Come and see me anytime, love." She said.

"Just keep your mouth shut or I will have business with you as well." He disappeared with the body down a dark alley. Besides the faint, scattered sounds of people inside readying for bed there were only the noises of small scavengers skulking the streets. Rhajit was growing tired under Teman's dead weight. He finally found what looked like an abandoned stall. He threw the body in the stall. Finding a long stick he tore a piece from the hanging around the body and wrapped it around the end, went to a lone, guttering torch ensconced on a wall on an old building nearby and lit the rag. He lit the hanging wrapped around the body and then threw the stick inside the stall, setting it on fire, then slipped off into the night.

The fire spread from that stall to half of the Southern Quarter. Later, many older people would remember that when they woke and saw the fires it seemed as if the eternal fires had engulfed the city, finally, in divine anger over the evil in Jhis. It seemed that the whole world had descended into the pit. Others said the dark fires of the Unnamed One had rushed from a crack in the earth from the eternal fires and cast everyone into his realm. Either way, it was a nightmare that no one forgot and that many did not even live to see because they died in their sleep, unaware or died burning, struggling to get out of their houses, trapped by the fires. It was as if Hec's brother opened up his forge and pitched coals into the city to smelt it. The smoke ascended to the sky for nights and days afterward and in the morning much of the Southern Quarter was destroyed and hundreds of people dead. The Southern Quarter comprised much of the people who worshiped Hec and when they found that their great temple of marble and majestic columns was burned down the cry arose that the priests of Airend-Ur were behind it for Lady Diti's public mourning was still called to remembrance. And yet, the Ainash priesthood's Golden Temple, their grand temple still stood, " _protected by the Hatchet Men!_ ", it was said. Just days afterward there were numerous clashes between the worshipers of Hec and the worshipers of Airend-Ur and fights so vicious that the death toll went from seven hundred from the fires to one thousand five-hundred dead. The king called for Hard Law, as in seven days so many people had died. Anyone caught on the streets after dark who was not on city or royal business was executed.

The priests of the Golden Temple, through Bakku, seized upon this incident to go to the queen with a solution. As they put it, there was the problem of the desert women. "We are innocent of this wickedness! A curse this was! It is the witches," they said, "who sit in their tower in Gamina committing many sorts of evils, speaking black treacheries, inciting the people to call down evil upon their queen and wreaking havoc on the entire kingdom, who must not be endured any longer if the kingdom is to survive."

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

The queen was deathly ill and it greatly disturbed the king as she was carrying his hoped for son. Her maidservants and the royal physician were all at her side. She was wet with sweat, fading in and out of delirium.

"What has happened to her!" Demanded the king.

"Your Greatness, I believe she has caught a chill but these woman insist other things more sinister."

"Do not let my lord king become incensed at us! For it is one of your concubines behind this. One who has bragged to you all this time of carrying a son and yet she has had a daughter instead. She has breathed threat and murder among her own women against the queen and consulted with diviners and witches to curse your future son and the queen!" Said Tryga.

"Salayma? She is too simple. . ." His attention snapped back to the queen as she rose from unconsciousness again. The queen's feverish murmurs grew louder.

"Salayma cursed me! She cursed me!" She whispered, her eyes rolling sightlessly. Sweat beaded upon her brow. The king came to the other side of the bed.

"When? How?" He demanded.

"She cursed. . .me. . ." She fell silent again. Her whole body was red and the skin burning hot. She closed her eyes.

"What is she saying?" Demanded the king to the maidservants.

"The queen invited Salayma to dine with her yesterday and then this morning. . .she became ill!" Cried Setimet.

"Your Greatness, we will keep her well covered and swaddled to make the fever burn out and subside." Said the physician.

"How long has she been like this?"

"Only a few hours. I was called in as soon as she began to complain of sickness. My lord king, I have never seen a fever take hold so quickly!"

"She has cursed her with evil magic! She has seen witches, I tell you, Your Greatness! We do not lie! We have watched over the queen and would protect her with our very lives! There was no poison in the food nor in anything near the queen when she came or we would all be dead as we handle and taste everything before she does."

"Yet, my queen suffers on the brink of death and my son may not live! You women I will put to death if she dies! Physician, do what you can! Bring Salayma to me!" He shouted to the guards behind the door. The maidservants all bowed low to the ground before the king as he left, calling for every physician in the city to be brought to the palace.

Miraculously a few hours later, the queen recovered and sat amidst many little jade figurines of Elyshe and Nimnet around her bed. Incense burned on a small alter in the queen's bedroom. She sat propped up on pillows, her hair disheveled but herself fully recovered.

Salayma was brought before the king, terrified and in ignorance of the queen's episode.

"You have committed treason!" He accused and laid out the charges against her. The queen's maidservants were called in to recount what they knew and saw.

"My lord! I have not done this! She invited me to dine with her and I thought we would be friends! I thought. . ."

"You took that as a reason to move against her! She deigned to show loving kindness to you and you would turn it into black witchcraft to kill her and my son! _My_ son, who is descended from the very gods and you would lift your hand against him in treason! A son, which you did not have. If I recall it, was a daughter you gave me. Jealousy and envy in a woman is deadly. I have had enough of you, Salayma! Throw her in the furnace!" They grabbed her, screaming and wailing in terror, stripped her and threw her into the fires.

And when the king found that the queen was recovered and doing well, his rage finally subsided.

. . .

It was early morning that found the prophet Ilim back in Jhis after he had been warned that the priests and scribes sought his life. He hid himself in a small village west of Jhis and came back two weeks later to resume his commission. He found that things had grown worse since he'd left. Summer was gone with the chill of fall finally settling in. The harvest festival had already started and the holy season of First Things would soon be upon the land. Except that the festive air that usually permeated the city during this time was not in evidence. Although it was quiet and only a few were beginning to stir for the daily morning ministrations Ilim could feel rage, bitterness, despair like an oppressive wave. Since he had changed, since he had seen and heard the glory of the Lord of the Heavens Ilim was sensitive to the emotions of others. He could feel it as a physical thing like waves washing over him at sea. It was nearly a frightening experience and it seemed to grow stronger every day, this new perception. Besides, he saw evidence of great trouble before he had even gotten to the city. Smoke rising and not from the usual direction in the north. It was coming from inside the city! It was on fire, or had been. Ilim's heart grew heavy with fear and worry for the Lady Diti. The men at the gate knew him instantly upon seeing him and did not question or stop him but merely bowed curtly at his approach.

"My sons, what has happened here?" He asked.

"Ten days ago there was a fire, started in the southern district. Burned much of the Southern Quarter including the great temple of the sun god, father."

"How did this happen?" The men shrugged.

"The gods, perhaps? Parts of the city still burn. It was as if the whole world was ending. Fire at night like a roaring sea, a sea of fire as if the dark god himself had risen from the depths to punish us all!" Said one.

"Yes, father! Nothing but smoke and fire choked the Southern Quarter and the fires themselves could be seen for leagues around. It was a terrible sight. I nearly thought the eternal fires had engulfed the city. Hundreds of people are dead. They are still counting corpses and those are just the ones they've found. Over six hundred so far. The fires stopped mostly after the temple burned down. As if Hec said: _"Enough! It must stop here."_ I thought the whole world would burn."

"Juhi!" Ilim exclaimed. "I hope you did not lose anyone you know?"

"No, thank the gods! I did not know anyone who died in the fires."

"Neither did I." Said the other guard. Ilim could forgive these men their superstitions over the dark fires and the Unnamed One. Such a sight would frighten the wits out of anyone.

"How does the city stand now? Is there trouble? Besides this inferno?" He asked.

"There is trouble. Some people are saying that the Ainash are behind it because of what happened during the wedding festivities."

"What happened with the Ainash?" He asked. The two guards looked at each other and then at him in disbelief.

"My brothers, I have been away from the city."

"Well," said one of the guards, "the king ordered some in the Ainash priesthood into the arena prisons. A champion had to be chosen to win a battle against two lions. If the champion lost, which most assumed he would, they would all be put to death. The champion won, so the priests were allowed to live. Some say they got their vengeance upon their enemies by attacking the sun god's temple."

"But which enemies, I wonder? This is a bad turn of events." He was astonished that this news had missed him.

"Perhaps this is a war between gods." Said one of the men.

"You are more right than you realize." Said Ilim.

"Be careful, good father. We know you do not hold with much nonsense and have nothing to do with the politicking in the city but as for your fellows at the Golden Temple, they are not held in high esteem in the city by all. The only thing that keeps armed mobs at bay from tearing down your temple are the Hatchet Men, whom many men fear. Tensions are running high between the people of Hec and the people of Airend-Ur. Some of the Aishanna-La saw the arena fight as an attack on them and now it is perceived that the worshipers of Airend-Ur have struck back against the sun god for this mess."

"Who is this champion?"

"A man, a great warrior named Rhajit. People call him Rhajit the Ram."

"Rhajit the Ram. I do not know of him. I thank you my sons, but the message I have will not please either those of Hec or those of the Golden Temple. What does the king say?"

"We do not know but there is a mandatory curfew until the villains who started the fires are found. Any caught out past sundown will be executed. Activity by the guard and the king's warriors have increased."

"I thank you. I have this to say, the temple may be gold on the outside but inside it is full of blood and bones of the innocent ones. It is not holy to me or to God. The time is coming my sons, when He will clean out what is bad in Hybron. And He will start with His own people." Ilim said. With this news on his mind he entered Jhis, now with a heavier heart. Indeed the air was misted with a thin layer of smoke everywhere. He made his way as quickly as he could to his little house before the streets were bustling with people. Whatever the problem, Ilim had a harsh message to bring to the people once again. Perhaps all this was another sign that things were changing, yet most people did not have the wit to see it. His message would start with the house of Airend-Ur and they would not be happy to see him again.

Once he arrived home he went about setting a fire from the few branches that were left by the hearth. He blew dust off the table and sat down at his kitchen table, wondering morbidly while eating some dried meat leftover from his traveling whether he would be beheaded or thrown to the lions or into the fires. He wondered how much pain he would endure before he died. Then he wondered at this mysterious man, Rhajit. This champion that prevented the very men that he was sure had caused this mess to come about from getting just what they deserved and he grew wrathful at the thought. _This will not do!_ he said to himself. Ilim prayed incessantly all that night for the strength and for boldness to carry out his message, come what may. He also made a mental note to keep abreast of important news in the city. He fell asleep in his chair and when he woke it was predawn.

Ilim went to the Golden Temple and began denouncing the priesthood and the people of the city to turn back from doing bad.

"Why do you allow this ruffian? This man! He has positioned himself at the foregate of the temple and he is speaking with a voice as if from heaven and he has showed disrespect to the king with his pronouncing the city and its people fit for destruction! Something must be done! Everything is allowed here! The Jurite king raids the south with impunity and now this rebel!" Raged one of the officials. They were in Bakku's apartments at the palace. Bakku sipped his tea and then set the delicate bone cup down before speaking.

"Calm yourself, Caullas. It is Ilim. He has styled himself a prophet but his downfall is coming."

"But why does the king allow it? Why does the king not put him to death? Is he not doing these things against the king?"

"The king tolerates him out of some misguided affection or loyalty, so long as he does not say anything against the king. As long as he rails against the priesthood the king ignores it. Besides, I have spoken to him on the matter. The king has other matters that are far more serious. Temuz and Kufun, for instance."

"I do not think you understand, Bakku. This _luti_ prophet," Caullas spat, "is gaining esteem in the eyes of the people. I do not know what the people here think of him but those in my district of Galieh, also as far as Rhuctium and even farther south and in the east people are talking about a desert prophet having been raised up! This fraud is styling himself to be that one and he is drawing people away from the temple in Jhis and even from the temples of Hec."

"Yes." Said another official. "Have you not heard? He draws people away from the Golden Temple and toward that den of witches in the Gamina province."

"I have heard." Said Bakku.

"You seem undisturbed. Do you know something we do not?"

"I know that the fire in the city that destroyed part of the southern district and the great temple of Hec has caused riots between the Aishanna-La and the people of Hec. I know that many view this as the fault of the Ainash. We are working to correct that and it may be that we will be able to take care the problem very soon. Besides, you two do not worship as I do. Why do you care?"

"Because in my experience, prophets who speak with power and charisma like him can cause great trouble if they are ignored for too long. They foment violence. I remember many years ago the false prophet Yarlaam came talking of raining fires and the coming of the One of the dark fires. He nearly toppled the natural ruling order of Haiga, back when it was a city-state. False prophets abound when times are uncertain." Said the other official.

"True." Agreed Caullas. "Even Hec has his own gaggle of doomsayers. Besides, how do you know he is not the cause of these riots?"

"He may be, but the matter is. . .difficult."

"What do you mean by _difficult_?"

"People fear him. We sought to have him arrested some weeks ago and he somehow slipped through our fingers. Some now fear to approach him, even some of our own militia are in awe and claim he is a holy man and do not dare to lift up their hands against him. When he speaks, like you say, it has a certain power."

"So he has a demon! Kill him, I say! Before he causes real trouble!" Caullas was growing impatient.

"I cannot do a thing!" Bakku said in irritation.

"So perhaps the priesthood will be moved to do something when no one comes to the precious Golden Temple for the festival! Perhaps they will go elsewhere. Like Gamina." The other satrap goaded.

"That will not happen! Why would anyone travel to some dusty outpost in the middle of nowhere filled with goat and camel dung to a crumbling castle when they could come to the beautiful temple we have here? Really." Bakku sniffed. The satrap leaned in conspiratorially.

"So what is this plan? You brought us here for some good reason, did you not?"

"There are plans afoot but we must be careful. Remember the fate of the Kushigyar." He warned. They muttered mercies at hearing this. He nodded.

"And do not forget what nearly happened to the me, to the priesthood during the wedding festivities. This king is unpredictable. He is dangerous. First he is your friend, then he is your enemy and do not think any official is safe. He hates nobles, and any officials with ties to the noble families, of which all three of us have, he does not trust. Consider what he did to gain the throne." He allowed this to sink in. Then he continued.

"So, the plan is to allow Ilim to continue his defamatory speeches, for now. There is growing dissent and while the people do not like the Ainash we have a certain protected place here. They will not attack us. However, they will eventually wage an all out war between each other, the low peoples. Enough fighting and unrest and it may partially destabilize the realm and the people will stop looking at the king as their great savior. They will be afraid. Ilim will only help that endeavor with his preaching. The people will get tired of him one day. Eventually, we will use him to go after the heart of all of our problems, the women of the citadel."

"I do not understand."

"Then allow me to explain further. The king of Zapulia heaps insults upon Khalit and we are hearing reports from officials in the east that he and King Kufun plan to meet to seal an alliance between Temuz's daughter and one of Kufun's sons. This cannot be allowed. The King of Jura is massing ships off our coast. Things are coming to a head, my friends. And much of it will be laid upon the witches in Gamina who sympathize with the people of the earth and the _luti_ of the deserts. They all talk of change and overturning the order of things. Treasonous talk. The king is getting ready to marshal his forces against both Temuz and Kufun and in one fell swoop he will also deal with the witches." The others looked at him quizzically.

"What do those witches have to do with any of this?"

"Nothing. But they will take the fall for what has happened in the city and be blamed as rebels of the king and Ilim along with them. It will seem as if they have fomented this and caused the fire in Jhis. In fact, this is already being said. All of these things serves the purpose of the Golden Temple. After all, while he is gone, occupied with war, those of us who wish to see the re-institution of the city-state will have the opportunity to strengthen our hands."

"Who else is with us?" Asked Caullas. Bakku leaned in and lowered his voice.

"I cannot say as of yet. Powerful ones of the court, from Egi." They both gave him astonished looks.

"You mean to attempt what I think you mean?" Bakku gave him a meaningful stare.

"Ahhh. Finally, after all these long years of barbarism and filth, something is being done." Said the other official.

"This is careful work. We do not wish to move before it is time. I shall keep you both appraised of the plan and there will be rich rewards for those who back us in our cause." Promised Bakku. In truth, Bakku feared for his life while King Khalit was alive and no amount of prayers or offerings at the temple could ease his mind. The king's animosity toward the Ainash seemed to grow each day. He had an important ally in the queen and the Egian captains, but moving too swiftly could cause civil war. However, he noted that the firmament could melt in fire and fall to Chialis before the king would lift a hand to do anything to Ilim the prophet. Whatever happened to Ilim when he left the city it was something supernatural. A powerful demon he had within him, Bakku and many of his friends were now thoroughly convinced of this.

And he had the effrontery to come back.

There were times when he preached against the so-called calumnies of the priesthood that his very face shined as if it were light itself. He drew more crowds each day and he spoke as if he had a god in him. Bakku shrank from Ilim now and wished he were dead but noted that Ilim fascinated the queen. Unnaturally, in Bakku's opinion. She asked to know what things Ilim had to say each day and sent people to listen to his endless tirades. It was all hurtling toward some event. Bakku hoped that event was the utter destruction of all those who stood against the Golden Temple, most of all, Ilim.

Ilim grabbed a handful of dust and blew it into the air until it became a dervish. And he continued: "This is what the First Pillar has said: " 'Listen you people of Jhis for the First Pillar that you and your forefathers have left for others gods has a matter against you in that your hands are filled with the blood of innocent ones and lust for the gold and for the silver in that you sell your poor men and the foreigner to the god of fire, you sell your young men for blood games in droves, you sell children to the slavers for a bowl of stew and to the whorehouses for a loaf of bread. You go lusting after the sheer rush of the lion's roar and your feet go running after false prophets and fortune-tellers who whisper guttural sounds and roll their eyes as if they have a deep message. And you have said: _"I want only pleasure and excitement and who can sate me?"_ You have said: "Ah! I do not know Airend-Ur!" Yet, have I not made all other gods? Am I not the First One from whom all things come? Hear what I have said: I shall overturn your tables of gold and electrum and your weaved baskets full of dark things you have hidden away. I shall turn the sun on to your dark places and expose your dealings and treacheries! Oh Jhis, come back to the way of the Red Path that your forefathers walked and I shall not bring to remembrance your wickedness. Do you not know what is right? Turn to doing good and I shall shower the land with rain and all manner of good things will flow to all the peoples and I shall bless you and you will prosper all your days and your sons will prosper all their days and there will be peace. If you do not, you will have to reap the bitterness that is coming, the horrors that will eat up your children and the rotten seedlings you have planted and the bad seed you have sown and there will be black evil in the land because of your deeds and you will have to eat it and become sickened and die from it and there will be no peace or rest in the land and you will have to face the darkness. . .' "
**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

The month of Udipaz was now upon them and it was the week of the Festival of Firsts. The myriads of crowds that had come to gather and worship at the citadel nearly overwhelmed the sisters but Anet and all the young ones were excited to see so many people, which also meant that there were many more children to play with. She was improving steadily in her lessons with swords and bow and arrow and even got a little better had the rings game. Her outdoor overnight trips with sisters were the most fun of all. She was getting better at seeing things in the dark, hearing and listening closely and even hunting for objects in the dark. Once they had made a short overnight excursion to the Hill of Shima near a wide stream. Sleeping on the ground and learning how to catch food was exhilarating. But now that many people had come to Gamina the overnight trips and sword fighting lessons were paused for other duties. The kitchens were constantly at work and there was food everywhere and even sweet treats! She loved the festival days. There were many breads and treats made with honey and rich, fresh milk to drink along with roasted meats. Gamina was filled as far as the eye could see with temporary tents full of families that had traveled to the citadel. Many more were always coming up the hill into the town. It was like a marvelous family gathering. She got a chance to play with little boys and girls who had traveled from all over Hybron.

The first day everyone had gathered at the town square with Mother Berenice, her head covered with a special red silk, to do the reading of the first book, Sha, the beginning of the world told in the Holy Aishanna and God's hand in creating Man and all the tribes who then covered all the face of Chialis. It was called the Great Migration. Those first tribes then populated the whole world. It was at that time that God gave Man the first laws that he should know and follow and sent them lesser gods who showed them how to hunt, farm, to reap bounty from the land, how to build, mine the mountains and care for the animals; all the great things that Man later achieved were first shown to him from God. So, He commanded them to remember this birth, all the first things he showed them through a festival, the Festival of Firsts. Anet could nearly recite the entire first chapter now and many did recite along with Mother Berenice's reading. Great logs of expensive incense from the far east were burned during this week and the sky at times was filled with great swathes of incense mist and the fragrance mingled with the natural scent of the chilly fall air. The sun was setting earlier and the weather was cold in the morning and at night. The crowds were so thick that one had to step over people and animals to get anywhere outside the citadel walls. Anet, when not in attendance to the readings was on duty serving food to those who had none and administering healing ointments and water to tired, aching souls. She was carrying a water jar to a family near the town square when she happened to hear more talk from the pilgrims. Another thing she'd learned from Mother Berenice and Ilim, to listen to everything and learn what might be useful and what might not be. She didn't know what was useful so she just listened intently, as the gossip among the camps was interesting. Later, Kaisha would grill her and she would gladly gush.

"They say that tensions are growing in Jhis. The temple to Hec was burned down and the people of the Golden Temple are being blamed for it." Said an old man, one who needed ointments after the long journey. He was the apparent patriarch of this family and he was resting with his feet up on a basket and pointed to the water urn she was carrying.

"Here child, bring that water here. We are thirsty."

"Why would our people have anything to do with it?" Said another man, his brother. The women sat by the fire cooking and making flat bread. Anet poured water into their urns for which they thanked her.

"Come child! The children are sleeping now but you can sit and have something to eat with us." Said the old man's wife. Anet gladly accepted. She took a piece of bread and dipped it into a small bowl of hot fat. She could smell the mouth- watering scent of roasted mutton and spices over the fires.

"I do not believe we had anything to do with it. But, as the saying is going now, it is _"revenge upon the good peoples of the sun god"_ that we are doing this. Pah!" Said the first old man.

"Revenge! Some evil mischief is behind this. I swear it."

"We, the poor and the working ones. If ever there is some ill in the city, somehow we will pay for it. We are the beasts with all the burdens." Said one of the younger men.

"You are right. It is the hand of the Unnamed One behind it. The whole thing is a travesty if you ask me. There are riots and more fires, fights break out nearly every week now. Curse the whole of it!"

"And to think, everyone got along so well for so long. You cannot even go into the Southern Quarter now unless you want your throat slashed and it is the same way with those of Hec in our neighborhoods. Shameful!" One of his younger wives said, shaking her head.

"That is not the way God's people should do." Said the first old man's wife.

"I know it, yet many have become inflamed with passionate feelings over all this and who can blame them?" Said the old man.

"I blame the priesthood. They are always behind some devilry in the land. Or at least half of it. It is a wonder too. We are blamed for the fires and attacked for it and naturally some of our young people get impassioned and attack back and it is all a mess. Yet the priests and scribes are safe in their gold-tipped tower away from the rabble, scrawl and scrapping! Somehow they have brought this evil upon us." Said the man's brother.

"Yet they demand more money and taxes with no shame! Thieves and bandits dressed in silk and gold!" Said the old man. This received a resounding _"Ellah Kaifah!"_ from the whole family.

"It is a good thing we do not live in Jhis. I feel afraid for those poor brothers and sisters in that wretched city." Said another wife.

"If you ask me they should have moved out of there in droves." Said her husband, the old man's brother.

"They are, my brother. They are. My first wife's family, they live there but they are planning to move to Hevan, where _nothing_ happens. Praise be to God!" Said the old man.

"Is there even a temple in Hevan?"

"Does there always need to be a temple? There is no temple there and some of us would prefer it that way. But there is a special place, a field where the faithful gather for readings and prayer. A small city and those there do not molest the Aishanna-La. Everyone keeps to themselves, like it should be and none of those detestable games and theater travesties you have in Jhis."

"It is a good thing to be here. We can speak freely about the games here." Said his brother.

"What are the games?" Anet finally interjected.

"An ingenious way of torturing and killing animals and men. Destruction of life for the amusement of others and though many claim it is for those who volunteer only the poor and the convicted criminals do so in order to get out of a dire situation. When there are not enough who volunteer it is well known that they send agents who lie in wait in taverns, inns and on the streets at night for unsuspecting souls in the poor districts to kidnap for the games. That is why it is said in the Writings: "My son be wise and avoid the many vices of the cities for there are traps there more dangerous than the traps of the hunter." Said the old patriarch.

"Ellah Kaifah." They all said.

"Yes, my daughter. It is a lesson. I have seen too many of our young ones fall into the trap and end up fresh meat in the arenas and there is nothing we can do once that happens." He said despondently. Anet felt sad at hearing this. _Did they really do such things to people in the cities?_

"Of course, some cities are better than others. Jhis is simply one of the biggest and worst." Said the brother.

"The golden days of Assenna were not like that. Now that must have been a place!" Said his wife.

"Indeed!" Said her husband.

"It was a wondrous place until the apostasy. And then the Ainash made it an evil thing to even speak of those times." Said the patriarch.

"The Veiled Time." Said Anet. They all nodded.

"Most books and writings about it have been burned but you dear sisters here have the true holy book, not the one obscuring truth like the one read at the Golden Temple. Get used to seeing this, my daughter. You will see more faithful ones coming here instead of the temple."

"I like it when people come here." Said Anet.

"You do, do you? That is well! Many of us enjoy coming here. Here we are among our own and safe." He said.

"And there is the natural beauty of the land without all that stinking smoke from the fires outside the city!" Said his first wife. They all crowed in agreement over this. Anet had heard of the eternal fires. Like dragons, she wanted to see them some day.

"Yet, there is the holy prophet Ilim who speaks great things against those _hikras_ in the temple! I have heard the wild peoples talk of him and his coming. The hypocrites do not dare to touch him." The old man said and took a generous drink of water. Anet's ears perked up even more at Ilim's name.

"Not yet." Said his first wife.

"Do you hear much about the prophet here, child?" Asked one of the younger men.

"He came here in early fall. He left a few weeks ago. He is certainly a prophet. He said that God spoke to him."

"Indeed He did! One day those priests will have to answer for their error."

"Do you think all the priests bad?" Asked Anet. The younger man shrugged.

"I would say so. I do not see evidence to the contrary. Why anyone would want to keep going to them is beyond me." Said the patriarch.

"Some still go because of the prominence it gives them. For many, it is the whole world and all they have." Said a younger wife.

"Yet, you will not catch a poor one going any longer. Not after the tax and the mess that came after! Only those who have some prominence or wish to have it still attend there." Said the first wife.

"They will punish us for it. Watch. There is always some evil lurking among those _hikras_! I wish the Lord of the Deep Heavens would strike them down! Curse them!" Said the patriarch.

"And there are the mobs and riots in the city over this matter now. I am afraid to go back home, to tell you the truth." Said his brother.

"So am I."

"May you be rebuked, Zabi my love! It is not for you to curse the appointed of God. He will deal with them in His due time and it will go ill with those who follow them." Said the first wife.

"You are right, Haida." He said.

"Tell me child, do you see many of the tribal people here?" He asked.

"Sometimes they trade with us but it is rare to see them."

"I ask because I miss lapirim. I am an old man of the wild tribes who was enchanted by a city girl," he winked at his first wife and she smiled and shook her head. "but I do miss it."

"As if he does not get enough meat in his meals!" She said.

"I know but there is nothing like lapirim. Really, is not lapirim better on the third day?"

"That would all depend on your own tastes, my brother." Said his brother. They all laughed.

"We do not have any lapirim. I am sorry." Anet said apologetically.

"That is well. Your meat and bread and drink here are fit for gods. Who knows? They may show up and look for lodging and then you will have to entertain them. Some holy ones did just that!" Anet could hear her name being called.

"Excuse me fathers but I must go." She was very sorry to have to go. She was fascinated by the gossip.

"Ahaifa, child." Said the old man. Anet bowed and picked up her empty water vessel and ran back to the fortress.

"Where have you been child?"

"Sorry but one of the families out there invited me to dinner."

"My goodness Anet, you will be as big as a tent after the festival! No matter. It is well to find fellowship with the faithful but there are others who need drinking water. Ease their burdens this night, please. Here, get more water and see about who needs it."

"Yes, Mother Berenice." Mother Berenice seemed distracted and unusually grouchy this week and she wondered at it but she soon forgot this as she went about her chores. When the call for Night Prayers came she was very tired but also stuffed with food. She did not have the stomach for the late supper prepared at the citadel. Irtal replenished the incense and helped with organizing the offerings of incense and food. The last day of the festival was coming in two days and a fattened ram would be sacrificed and shared among the scions and the qualified men in the town who read from the Law and the Writings and the blood would be sprinkled among all. There was so much to do. Anet's head was spinning. She'd heard all manner of rumors. This man named Rhajit the Ram, a great hero in Jhis who rescued the poor people but also rescued the Ainash from certain death, disturbed her. Then there was the burning of the city and now so many people coming here. What did it all mean? And she wondered why it was that so many women here could not read. She found that strangest of all. Every girl and woman at the citadel could read and according to the holy book all the people of God should know how to read and write. It was in the Law. But the Ainash saw it as a crime for a woman to read anything unless it was being read to her. Even though she disliked the prophet Ilim for beating her he did not seem to share their hatred of girls and women and she feared that he would not be safe in Jhis. Would he be able to come back and continue teaching her? There was much she wanted to know. Even Kaisha was happy to know how to read and write and thought it strange that so many women outside of the citadel did not know how. Was it that way for all women everywhere or just in Hybron? She would ask Mother Berenice when it was all over. Late that night, they lay in their bedroom, she and Kaisha and a few other girls after the Prayers of the Night ritual when a huge cry was raised outside.

"Hool! Hool! Hool!" Came the calls from the thousands of people gathered outside.

"What is it?" The girls all jumped out of bed. Anet and Kaisha raced downstairs first, followed by the others and soon they were met by other women and girls coming down from their rooms to see what the commotion was about. The heavy doors were locked fast. Anet grabbed a torch and unlocked them. An elderly scion was hobbling down the hall.

"Stop! Wait, girls!"

"But we want to see what is happening outside!" Cried Anet breathlessly. They rushed outside and found people pointing up at the sky and chattering in excitement. The sky was lit with myriads of stars like a black blanket covered in glittering jewels. But right seemingly in the middle of the grand night sky there was a great spray of red stars streaking across the horizon like leaping red desert rams of fire. It seemed almost that the sky began to light up like the bright dawn. This went on for hours. Eventually all the scions had come out of the citadel to see the sight.

"A great omen! Like the one I heard tell of when I was but a babe in the desert!" Cried a woman.

"I well remember it! I was a younger man then. A warrior who guarded the camp of the elders on that night!" Exclaimed an old man. "It is just like that night, when the gathered shaikhs and the tribal mothers went to the plain of the White Bones and saw the host of heaven! The very sons of God themselves!" They could not hold back; all were filled with joy. Everyone was so caught up in rapturous elation at the event that they noticed nothing else but Anet noticed a tiny, bright golden thing, like a spark of light on the ground near the steps. Had some celestial dust or object from these stars fallen to the ground? She dashed over to the steps and picked it up. It was a tiny bird made of gold. There were hundreds of golden wires inside of its metal body and jewels for eyes. She looked around but no one paid any attention to her. She put it in a pocket of her shift and gazed at the red-tinged sky. She recalled once the tale from an old man in the town a few years ago who said he had been to the far lands up north and the far east where there was snow and great cities and that they had what he called "fire stars" that exploded which they used in celebrations that lit up the night sky. But these were not stars from men. This was a sign from above. The joyful cry: "Hool! Hool! Hool!" soon rang out through all of Gamina.

"Hool, hool, hool aja! Look, look, look and see!" Everyone cried until it was a sea of roaring voices.

It was nearly morning. Anet could not sleep so she sat in bed looking into the dark. She did not want the Festival of Firsts to end. She turned the golden bird around in her hands. It felt warm. She had found a wonderful treasure, on top of all the signs and portents of the week.

"That belongs to Mother Berenice." Whispered Kaisha. She was staring at Anet in the dark.

"What? This?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

"I have seen her with it before. I think she dropped it." Kaisha got up and walked across the room to sit on her bed. She examined it intently.

"It will not do you any good to keep it Anet because it is a machine. It has to be fastened to one of her contraptions she keeps in her study in order to get the message from it." Anet's eyes widened at this information.

"This is one of those things Iddina told us about? The things that are banned?" She asked. Kaisha nodded and then she lit a candle.

"Instructress Helga will beat our hides if she catches us using candles without permission." Whispered Anet.

"Then we must hurry, Anet. To Mother Berenice's study room." They donned their robes and crept around the other sleeping girls, Kaisha holding the candle and leading the way. They sneaked out of their room and crept along the hall to the upper staircase. They glanced down to the bottom floor all the way down. She could hear noises from other sisters who were still awake, likely talking of the omen. The stone floor was cold beneath their feet and it was dark except for the candle light. They passed by a room with the door cracked slightly. Anet saw in the dim candle light of the room three sisters making wooden arrows. After climbing two more flights of long stairs they came to a narrow hall and at the end was the wooden and iron door to Mother Berenice's study. Anet pulled on the iron door pull. It opened, with some creaking. The study was empty but the windows to the small balcony were open. They crept in and went for the globe contraption with the thin golden poles sticking out at the northern and southern poles. Except this one was wondrously different! It looked like one of the globes in the lessons they used at first sight but looking closer even in the dimness this one seemed magical. It was a massive floor globe made of copper, gold, wood and even delicate vellum with longitude and latitude wires criss-crossing its width and length. The seas, rivers and lakes drawn upon it swayed gently across the surface and there were what looked like thin steam clouds moving across, just above the surface. There were what looked like dyed or oiled colors of green where huge swathes of forests held sway on the surface. It was even more magnificent than the detailed new maps that one scion-sister had brought to the citadel a few years ago from far away lands. Such a wide world out there. Anet and Kaisha was silent in awe at it. It sat on a silver stand. Its copper metal surface seemed to shimmer slightly.

"How do we make it work?" Asked Kaisha, finally.

"I do not know. We will just have to figure it out." Said Anet. She pulled the machine out of her robe and examined the rods on the globe. The globe stood nearly as high as Anet's shoulders and the golden rods came from inside the center and through the bottom and inside the metal surface there was also crystal and behind this crystal she saw through the dim light of the candle the suggestion of an elaborate system of metal circles, pulleys and boxes.

"Well, we. . ." Behind them at the door they heard someone clear her throat. They both turned. It was Mother Berenice.

"Oh, Mother Berenice!" Kaisha started. Mother Berenice held her hand up to silence them. She swept over to the corner where they stood and touched the globe and then looked up at the sky.

"What did it mean, Mother?" Asked Anet. "The falling stars?"

"Portents. It was a portent of good coming, a portent of evil coming. Much blood will be spilled. And how is it that you two are out of bed?" Anet showed her the little metal bird.

"So there it is. I'd thought I had lost it." She took it into her hand and turned it around.

"How do you use it? What message does it have?" Asked Anet. She looked at Anet for a moment then she sighed.

"Out of all the young ones here you two seem to be the most perceptive, and especially you Anet, so I will tell you. After all, it may eventually involve you. Yes, it is one of those evil machines that the Ainash and many others throughout the realm have banned. But I have one and so does another person that I know. She is in Jhis and I fear that her life is in great danger."

"Who is it?"

"That I will not say but I will tell you this, she keeps me apprised of what is happening in the city. Things are dire. As you may have heard we have a new queen. She is from Egi and she is having a new temple built in Jhis. There has been a terrible fire in the city."

"The temple of Hec was burned down." Said Anet. Mother nodded.

"You have heard, then?" She asked. Anet nodded. Kaisha looked surprised.

"At first it was thought that the Ainash were behind it. Now, the Aishanna-La, we at the citadel in particular, are being blamed for it. The sad thing is, it is our own priesthood that is behind the rumor."

"Why would they blame us?" Asked Anet.

"Because of the sign of the citadel. They have never succeeded in getting rid of us. Our continued existence is a hard blow to their pride and to their philosophies. I fear that soon, once again, we will have to prepare for war. What you two must understand is that this citadel has stood against the priesthood for generations. We have the holy power of God and each time they have tried to mount an attack on us they failed. God allows the attacks and seeks our endurance of it to show His might and to make a point. The people now see that the priesthood is completely bereft of holiness and have lost God's favor. They come here in droves now to worship on the great days of the year and this fact has stewed in the priesthood for years. They seek a way to get rid of us and this most recent ploy, though it seems far away, involves a plot to strike at the citadel. It will be said that we, the scions of the desert citadel have encouraged this. That we are fanatical witches that drove the Aishanna-La in Jhis to burn down the temple of Hec. There are fights and mobs and violence in the city of Jhis. Do not be deceived. The Ainash are defaming us in the land and that is what this message in the machine brings. There is someone in Jhis who can see much of what transpires there and brings this information to me. Be on alert children, because though there are good things ahead it will not be gotten without suffering and pain. " _'To get to paradise and be the beloved and approved of the Lord of the Deep one must swim the sea of hardship and pain.' "_ You remember that passage?" She asked.

"Yes, Mother. That was recorded and written by the brother of the desert prophetess Medella when she lost all of her family in the Revolt of the Tribes." Said Anet. Mother Berenice nodded.

"She was also violated by warriors of the ruling king at that time and tortured and left to die for refusing to worship him as a god. I say this not to frighten you but to remind you that to be who you are and to worship there will come a time when you must make a stand. For some it means death for others it means trials and for one who does not take this seriously trials will break them. Her trials did not break her but made her stronger and she gained triumph in the end and her words were written down in the holy book for all to learn from. We will all go through trials before long but these are the fires that strengthen or destroy. Whether it strengthens or destroys you is up to you. So take this and all you have seen and heard and think on it. Pray on it and read the holy words with renewed vigor and understanding. Peer into them. Rejoice and do your tasks, always mindful that the dark one will demand that you will be put through trials and God will allow it, to test your resolve. He is there for you always but will not shield you. We must all travel the road of tribulation before we gain paradise."

"But why? Why must these bad things happen to us?"

"If you have raw gold do you simply sell it as fine jewelry?"

"No."

"What must you do?"

"Refine it." Said Kaisha.

"Likewise, the people who say they worship Him must be refined to see if they are true servants, if they are worthy of Him. Remember the words of Yemi: "Real gods require sacrifice." Ours is no exception to that rule and in fact, He instituted it." She put the tiny machine away.

"It is late children and there will be many duties tomorrow." She suddenly looked far older than her fifty years. And very tired. Kaisha held on to Anet as she escorted them downstairs quietly back to their room. She put them both to bed and reminded them to pray before going to sleep. Anet finally fell to sleep, thinking upon those last words. Yemi's voice echoed in her head and she dreamed once again, but this time of the calm, blue sea.

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

And the word of Airend-Ur occurred to the prophet Ilim in the days of King Khalit the king of Hybron in the twenty-second year of his reign. And the prophet Ilim did not hold back from prophesying the word of God and to the king. And each day he would station himself at the foregate of the Golden Temple to make his pronouncements and denunciations.

**-** _Book of Prophets II 1:1,_ **Translations of The Holy Aishanna**

"Hear the word of Airend-Ur all you families and peoples in Jhis for this is what He has said: You keep doing what is wicked in the eyes of God and you priests of Airend-Ur, you Ainash! You have long left the God of the temple, you have rebelled against him in your hearts. Why do you keep saying God is great? It is for nothing because he sees your hearts. Why do you keep doing the prayers? The tithing and the mumblings of many prayers and the sacrifices at the festivals? It is all refuse to Him for you have not kept his ways. You have abused the people. You keep putting them in darkness and you keep deceiving the peoples. Turn back from your ways you Ainash for the brunt of these denunciations will come to you and you will have to be stripped naked and humiliated and you will have to come down from your high pedestals and eat dust and sand.

The people all over Hybron will stare in amazement at you and will whistle at your humiliation. You have lied and cheated and you talk falsehoods! Stop doing that way and turn back and you shall receive my blessing. If you do not I will cut you off and remove you like a butcher cuts the meat from the bone and puts it in the cooking pot. And I shall become heated up against you and in my rage I shall have to bring you to death. Put away your ill-gotten riches, your golden chains and your silver chains, your jeweled rings and your fanciful arm bands. Stop slavering for the copper and gold coins in your coffers. Turn them out to the poor for they have been stolen from them. I will not accept your tithes or your gift offering because you have defiled my name and my temple and your worship is unacceptable. Stop mixing the worship of Hec and the goddesses of the night with me for I have no part in them. Read the holy writings and humble yourselves and come back to me in repentance. If you do not, this is what I shall do, I shall allow your enemies to destroy you, all you Ainash and all who follow after you and admire you and your wickedness."

Because he seemed to emanate light from his face the king left him alone. However, lately, Ilim began denouncing the king and the queen.

"You, oh king, the word of God occurred to me and He said: you have left the path of good to follow after other gods, you who have within you the seed of the king. You have cast aside the one giving you strength and teaching you the way in which you should walk and you have brought within your bosom rats from the temple and a snake from Egi. The Lady has inclined your heart to wickedness. Protect your son from her! Cast her aside and turn back from your folly and your wickedness and the Lord of the Heavens will bless you. If you do not, oh king, you will suffer defeat from your enemies and there will be no god to strengthen your arm when you go rearing up like a lion and you will have to be shot down with many arrows like a great beast during the hunt."

The king was disturbed. He had come back early from a great hunting party because of reports from the southern border. Yet, the queen had just given birth to a healthy baby son. He had thought to at least come home to see the queen in a good mood but the queen was in a dark mood. Immediately when he had come she begged to see him. He came to her and found her holding their newborn child.

"My son! My little Rafka! Finally!" His face lit up and he took up the bundle in his arms.

"Have you heard what this prophet is saying?" She cried.

"This again?" He frowned at her.

"He is speaking against the king, Your Greatness!"

"My great lady, what is it that he has said this time?"

"That you are wicked and that you shall be destroyed by his god for turning away from his god and for choosing me as queen. It would seem that you have married a snake, Khalit. How like you that?" The king's face darkened.

"I like it not."

"He even said to protect our son from me! _From me_ , Khalit! I am a mother like any mother who loves her child and especially this child, your precious son! I only wanted to give you what would make you happy, Khalit." Tears fell from her eyes. She began to weep profusely. Khalit turned to the nursemaid, Zigal who took the baby from him, bowed and left the room.

"Is this so? He has spoken against me! Even me? He has gone too far! I have had enough of this people of that accursed citadel! Even Bakku has warned me of them, repeatedly! I should have listened! They are worse than the Ainash!"

"There is something brewing among the low peoples, else why would they speak thus against you, my love? Temples burning and riots in the streets and this man who speaks abominations against you and the whole kingdom! They plan your ruin, Khalit! You must act to protect your name and your house! This is a strange thing that all these omens have crowded so upon you. Who knows what the witches in the desert have said against you to him. I hear he has been having dealings with them since he was thrown out of the temple. They are against you, Khalit! I do not trust them and I believe Ilim is their instrument sent to cause more havoc in the city. Perhaps they use him as a distraction while they plot treason! What good does it do to have a son when your very subjects seek to destroy the security and foundation of the kingdom? Did you not take the cities and the land away from the city fathers only some years ago? And now look, your own subjects have forgotten their oppression, their rescue from the Kushigyar and they seek to do the same to you. If you are to leave the kingdom to our son it must be secure. Which means traitors must be dealt with. Else, he will have to fight not only his brothers for the kingdom but his subjects as well. Do you want that for your son?"

"I will not have it. Guards!" He shouted. The doors swung wide open and several came.

"Yes, Your Greatness?"

"Ilim the prophet has been speaking treason! Seize him and bring him to me. And for those who are protesting, those of the Aishanna-La found in the streets protesting, you have orders to put to death!" They bowed and left quickly. Khalit was in a fury. Half his city was burned and there was unrest in the streets and the disrespect heaped upon him from enemies on all sides was too much to bear.

"Attendant! Call my counselors. There will be war against King Kufun, against King Temuz and against the witches of the citadel. You and Bakku were right all along. It is those witches behind this evil and now they have beguiled Ilim, who used to be my friend. I will finally put the matter to rest!"

"Please my lord, do not be too hard on the people of the city for they have been deceived by witches. And this man Ilim is their tool planted in the city to stir up violence and evil against my lord the king and his heir. Once their influence is gone the evil that permeates the minds of the innocent and gullible will be no more and there will be no need to punish them." She said, watching him closely.

"No, Taliat but all treason must be addressed within and without. It has spread across my kingdom like poison! I will deal with the outside and when I come back I will search out all traitors! All of the communities of the Aishanna-La will be searched and questioned. I do not trust them." He stormed out of the queen's bedchamber and to his council chamber, calling for his scribes, messengers, tartans and top palace officials to hold council.

Bakku was the first to appear. He bowed low to the ground.

"Your Greatness!" He said unctuously.

"Bakku! You were right about this situation. I have allowed it to go on for too long. Little did I realize the designs those witches in Gamina had on the kingdom and this Ilim has been controlled by them, sent as a devilish messenger to confuse the people!" Bakku bowed deeply, smiling with great pleasure inwardly. Anything to divert the king's hostility toward the Golden Temple was most welcome. Things were working in their favor!

"Your Greatness, I am so very glad that you have seen fit to deal with this evil in the kingdom. Righteousness is always with you, my king."

"I had reports while I was out hunting that have disturbed me greatly. That the raids in the south have gone closer inland. That they are more violent than before. That they have attacked the town of Beth-Ayin."

"That is only a few leagues from Rhuctium, my lord king!"

"Indeed! And now I hear reports that there may be a marriage alliance between Zapulia and Jura. Not if I have a say, and I will have my say."

"And you shall win back Zapulia which was stolen from you years ago by Temuz the invader!"

"And I shall silence his tongue, no, I will get hold of him and cut it out of his head and tear out his heart and feed it to his own god upon his own temple mount!" He slammed his fists on the table so hard that the goblets toppled over. A fervor was building in him, his eyes blazed. The men around him became agitated and roused.

"My lord king, long have we waited for this moment, to exact vengeance against these foreign kings!" Said Aquillam, one of the tartans.

"We will smash Kufun's raiding ships and move on toward Zapulia and I will make war with Temuz. And along the way we shall enter Gamina and raze the witches' citadel to the ground."

"Yes. Get rid of the witches." Said one of the officials. Which roused them even further.

"But why these women?" Asked one of the tartans, Zarammelech.

"Because it is they that are behind this mess in the city. Did you not see the red omen in the skies just days ago? Their black witchcraft has led to this, to the burning of the temple of Hec and the burning of the city and the deaths of thousands! I have allowed them to stay there too long, not thinking of their danger to me and to my kingdom! Many look at the actions of enemy kings as the greatest threat and pay little heed to those who divine and squawk of visions by demons! Where is my seal and my secretary? Where are my messengers? Bakku, send for them all! There will be war!"

And letters were written, letters with orders from the king to search out those within the Aishanna-La community and any other community that might be responsible for working with the witches in Gamina. The messengers and guards were dismissed while the king sat with his officials to plan out a strategy.

"But how shall we know or carry this out?" Asked one of the King's Guard later in Bakku's study.

"You must start with those that went to Gamina for the Festival of Firsts instead of coming to the Golden Temple. They may either be involved in rebellion or they may know someone who is. Start with them. There were many who were persuaded to go to the witches of the citadel instead of here. The witches wish to bring down the kingdom and they wish all to be under their influence. This so-called Red King prophecy, it is a fable. They wish to set up their own puppet king to control the kingdom. Why, they would even make an attack on Hec! These witches have grand plans." Said Bakku.

"I have no issue with killing any raider from Jura found in the south or a war with the king of Zapulia but the women of the citadel saved my boy from leprosy. I see no evil from them."

"I know it is difficult to exact punishment when we do not see evil acts committed openly but much that is evil is hidden from innocent eyes, my friend. Still, it must be rooted out and dealt with. The gods demand it."

"Did not the gods demand the deaths of the Ainash priests in the arena?" Bakku stiffened suddenly. He drew himself up.

"We are still here, are we not, sir? Evidently not. It was treachery, treachery that your captain of the King's Guard and others of your ilk have known. Do not speak of it, for it is not your place to question the king's desires or his orders. Look at the foul things that have happened to this city because we have allowed it to fester in the kingdom! Many who pretend to be good hide behind good works. So your boy was cured of leprosy, was he? What about the children that died in the fires?You would do well to remember that we are commanded by the king." The guard regarded him skeptically but said nothing. Bakku watched him closely as the guard left. He made a note of his name and station.

The next three days found the king marshaling his forces. The city was abloom with the warriors of Hybron and Egi; foot soldiers, charioteers and cavalry at the palace gate. Fricka made her way frantically back to the House of Mourning after the second war council had adjourned.

"So it begins. I feared this day would come, Fricka. But we have more work to do just yet." Diti's household had been greatly reduced and even her most trusted servant Zigal had been taken from her, who now worked as a nursemaid to the queen's newborn son, a thing that had actually worked toward Diti's purpose. Her dreams of the new queen of late frightened her. She'd made Zigal swear an oath to her that she would protect the child the day the her maidservant was taken away. She remembered Zigal's stricken look, but it was all for the grand purpose. She had to believe it. She'd managed to hide Fricka but she wouldn't be able to hide the cat forever. Khalit had indeed gathered a snake into their midst and his rage against the Scions of the Desert Mothers meant that her own life now hung in the balance. She had completely fallen from favor. In fact, there were times when she was only allowed a meal once a day but at least she still had her own quarters. Zigal had sent a message that the new queen hated the fact that she still had her own apartments and would work to change that. Diti would have to find a way out of the city and back to the citadel.

Or that was her plan until the most recent news Fricka had brought her. There would be an attack on the citadel and they would destroy it before moving on to Zapulia. Diti wept when she received this news but there was still the prophet Ilim to see about. He needed to flee the city before the king marched south.

"Fricka, I have one more message for you to send. I am imprisoned here and I see now that I shall die here but Ilim must escape and so must you." She wrote a message for Ilim on a small piece of vellum, folded it many times and put her secret seal upon it and put it in Fricka's little pack that hung from her collar.

"You must go to the prophet Ilim, Fricka and give him this message. Then you must stay with him. You cannot come back." She jingled the little ball on Fricka's collar then said a prayer for Fricka's journey and for Ilim. The cat mewled sadly at her mistress. Lady Diti finally pushed her away.

Fricka left by one of her secret passageways and made her way nimbly out of the palace. Ilim lived a long way from the palace and there would be many dangers along the way there. It was then that she caught the scent of something trailing her. It was getting closer. She was almost near the King's Lake when she realized what it was. The black cat, Vala. She had caught wind of Vala before on her own secret rounds but had always found ways to avoid her. Vala quickened her pace into a run, hissing at her. Fricka raised up her back, her fur fanning like a lion's mane and she hissed but she was trapped and unused to fighting. Vala lunged at her, revealing unnaturally long fangs. Fricka leaped to the side and batted her head away but not before Vala's fangs caught and punctured her left paw. Vala then came in for the attack and sunk her teeth into Fricka's back. Fricka yowled in pain and twisted around to get out of the corner. She lept and slapped Vala in the face with sharp little claws but this did nothing to deter the queen's cat. Fricka raced from the tunnel and out on to the grounds looking for a way out the palace gate with Vala fast on her heels. Vala lept upon her back again and grabbed hold of her collar with her fangs and they went tumbling across the steps and onto the grass below. It was not until a large vulture headed toward the Eternal Fires caught sight of them and thinking to grab a quick meal, swooped down and hopped toward the battling cats that the fight ended. The vulture lunged, flapping his wide wings at the two and Vala hissed and spat at the great bird, sprang away and ran back to the palace, disappearing into the secret tunnel beneath the underground lake while Fricka jumped into the lake itself. At this disappointing turn of events the bird lifted off and flew away. Fricka struggled onto a large lily pad, then swam, desperately looking for a way out of the water. A weak current carried her down past the palace and under the bridge until she was able to swim back to a low ledge. She struggled up the side, bedraggled and half drowned. She shook herself of water. The message ball around her collar was still intact. She had to find safety but did not think that Vala would follow her again. Thankfully. She was not used to such violence and it was unusual that she had to leave the palace. There were only two other times that she'd had to leave to send a message but mistress had conveyed that this was one of the most important messages of her life and it had to be sent. She fled for cover inside an empty stall and stayed there for a while, licking her wounds. It was only now that the fight was over that she began to feel the pain in her left paw. When the first moon was full she finally ventured from her hiding place. She waited in little hideouts along the way, in the shadows and under market stalls when she sensed danger might be on her tail. She climbed, with difficulty, over rooftops and limped over ledges, stopping periodically to mark the passage of the second moons which journeyed across the sky like floating paper lamps in a lake. As the night wore on she felt as if she had lost her way and sat forlorn, looking at the moon. Had she failed? Suddenly a strange, tiny red star appeared above. Her ears twitched as she heard in the great distance a city crier give the time of night. It was high night. The crier would cry no more until day break. Fricka's entire body felt alight, not in a painful way but on fire to move again. The star seemed to float along. Curious, she followed it through the city streets and finally the narrow streets started to look and smell familiar to her. She was finally nearing Ilim's house. She jumped upon the narrow window ledge. There sat an urn of water. She drank from it and then she looked up to gaze at the strange red star but it was gone. She scratched at the window for what seemingly felt like hours when finally someone got up. She heard the noises of shuffling around the window hanging and then footsteps coming to unlock the door. He had a lit oil lamp in his hand. Fricka jumped down from the window ledge and mewled at him plaintively, looking up.

"Who is it?" The man rasped warily, glancing around. He looked down. "Fricka. What brings you here at this hour?" He picked the cat up and brought her inside and set the lamp down. It cast dim shadows along the walls of the tiny house.

"You are injured, Fricka!" He wrapped her in a small blanket. She began licking her wounded paw in earnest. "Let us see what the queen has to tell me." He took the message ball from her collar and opened it with some difficulty. The tiny paper in it was still dry. He unfolded it many times until he could lay it flat on the table. He read it and seemed to sit in thought for a long while.

"So the time as come. Once again. I knew it would but it seems Fricka that you must come with me. The queen commands it in order to save my life and yours. You are now my messenger cat, Fricka. I fear neither of us will look upon the queen again, may God protect her."

He rubbed Fricka's back to comfort her, then he began packing his things. He did not know when he would come back to this city, or even if he would ever be back. In truth, he could not take Fricka with him. She would not be able to survive the open desert. He packed everything he would ever need, which was not much and he put the cat in a small pack on his back and set off for the High Quarter. The city was marshaling and soon he would not be able to come or go. Tensions were high and rage everywhere. Every day there was some new devilry and more riots as the people of Hec demanded retribution for the destruction of their temple and for their neighborhood. The king was furious with him and his denunciations and would soon order his death; the Lady, as he called her, urged for it. He had to find a way to warn the faithful that a time of trial and tribulation would begin if any chose to stay in the city. When he preached he new not when that would be the last day of his life but he was strengthened by God each night at Night Prayers at which he chose to pray at home. It was as if a fire ran through him and he was enlivened and enraged at the injustices he witnessed and the corruption at the temple and the city and his courage was resurrected anew each day to plague them. With his oil lamp he set off in the darkness and made his way to Priti-Vast House, Demostus's home, Demos's father, a wealthy textile merchant who married into a minor noble family. He was a good man who did many good works. He, like many wealthy Aishanna-La remained loyal to the priesthood, being that they were not seen as dirt by the priests and so felt no need to seek comfort outside of Jhis. But Demostus was friendly to Ilim, in secret. It was here that Ilim knew there would be little danger for Fricka. Messenger animals were valuable, used by a very few wealthy people or those of high governmental rank. _Perhaps the Mistress of the house would like to have such an animal in her household._ He would not stay, for he did not want to arouse trouble or suspicion for the family. It was then that he wondered about Demos. He'd heard that Demos had not been seen since the arena fights. Also, Teman had gone missing. Ilim had been careful to keep his ears low to the streets for any news. Teman and Demos's disappearances had given cause among the Ainash to terrorize the city. The Golden Temple sent out their Hatchet Men to question many and a few had been killed. But it wasn't until a reward was set for information on their whereabouts that any information showed up.

It showed up in the form of the woman Seena. It was known by some that a priest would go visiting her some nights and the fire happened in that district. It was suspected that he was dead. Seena confirmed it as she explained what happened that night, seeking the reward money. At first they did not believe her and threatened to have her killed but she produced one of his striped robes and a jewel, a ring that he often wore and had given her. Then they accused her of stealing these from him and being a part of the murder, especially when she told them that it was Rhajit the Ram, their champion who did it, but the high priest cautioned them.

"My brothers, she may speak truth. Why should she lie about such a thing? Why steal a man's robe? She has one of his rings. How would such a woman get it unless he gave it to her? It is well known among some that he had a mistress. We will know if she lies or not by finding our so-called champion. Besides, the people of Hec are in a fury against us all, priesthood and common believer alike. If we harm this woman, who wears the eye of Hec painted upon her head there will be blood for it." It was also noted the Rhajit had disappeared. The Hatchet Men were dispatched to find him but he could not be found anywhere in the city. No one knew where he had gone. Not even the guards at the Victor's House.

. . .

As to the letter, she had written: Good Master Ilim, I am writing to you for the last time. The king, persuaded by the foul Bakku who is apart of the queen's faction, is calling for war. He has found evidence of a future alliance of Zapulia and Jura and plans to run the raiders off his southern borders and to make war upon Zapulia. He also plans through the urging of the priesthood to purge the city of so-called traitors to the kingdom. This is to mean those that do not follow the demands of the priesthood among the faithful. Those who have left the city to celebrate the Festival of Firsts instead of at the temple will come under scrutiny. Letters, decrees, orders have been written, sealed official letters of the king. There will be a purging soon. The king and his forces in a few days will go south toward the coast. He will also move eastward to destroy the citadel and all those in it before heading to retake Zapulia. His plan has been brewing to retake Zapulia for some time and to deal with the raiders in the south but this planned attack on the citadel is a new thing. Your prophesying has marked you as a traitor and the king is in a furious rage against you and all those perceived to be in league with the citadel. You know what this means. The king's wrath means death.

Your friend,

Lady Diti.

Ilim left the city before dawn, just as the king was getting ready to send the order to have him arrested. He found through his preaching those willing to listen and help him when in need. So, he found a way out of the city and he was back into the high desert with Fricka safely residing in her new home. Under cover of night with the help of a merchant family and guards at the West Gate, Ilim once again went into hiding.

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

Demos rummaged around at Eliaz's writing desk, through tablets, scrolls and papers expertly organized. He had no idea what the book looked like. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. Then he looked through Eliaz's study room, again, for the Book of Nagilla. All this time he had thought it was a fable. There was a wooden box under the desk that for some reason he had ignored. He got down on the ground and pulled it out. It did not seem to have a lid or an opening. He frowned. There was a small indentation of a thumb print in the wood. He pushed it and he heard the box click and the lid slid open. In it was a book bound in dark red leather. He lifted it out and ran his hand over the cover. It's grain was rich. He opened the book carefully. The first vellum leaf page said: The Book of Nagilla. _Ah._ He thought. He looked in the box again and there was a small wooden box in it. He set the book aside and took the box out and opened it. In it was a family seal carved in lapis lazuli and ivory, a silver ring set with a black pearl and a white pearl and there was a fired clay tablet, the deed of a house. The seal symbol was of a kata flower wound around a pole and the initials of the owner and the seal was stamped on the tablet as well. On the tablet he saw names: Ific na Kuyin, Anetaliat na Seht. House of Kuyin. It was a noble family name from what it looked like. He closed the small box and put the book and the small box in a sack. He was afraid to go home and stay there. What if they suspected him and Eliaz of stealing the letter? Eliaz was dead and had no worries but Demos was afraid to go back and he no longer wanted to work under the corrupt scribes and priests at the temple. He had some money. He decided he would set off south to Rhuctium. Rhuctium was renowned for its schools. Surely he could find good work there as a scribe at a school or in a noble household or even for a merchant! He could not stay here too long. A dead man's house would eventually pass to the family or in case of Eliaz, it would become the property of the temple. He would stay here for the night, hide the book and the box in his family's garden early in the morning and set off. He would be free of Jhis. He was very proud of his plan. Finally, Demos felt as if he were setting off to find his own way in the world, even if the circumstances were not ideal.

It certainly was not ideal. It had been weeks since the fire. Demos, unaccustomed to anything but the creature comforts of city life had found a rude awakening after he'd left Jhis. He wondered why he'd left. Perhaps he could have found room with Zephyros. He was afraid to go home but it made no sense staying out here. He was sun-burnt, cold at night, hungry, thirsty and dirty. He hated dirt! It was nearly sunrise and he had hidden out in a cave somewhere between the small village he had left yesterday and Rhuctium. In fact, he was only a few days away from the city, according to his crudely drawn map and he could certainly find work there. All he needed was patience and time to think. Yes. He was an educated man and Rhuctium was a great city of learning. It was decided then. _Rhuctium_. Perhaps he would rise and become a man of his own. He did not want to go back to the Golden Temple. He had long lost respect for the priesthood but there was no question of not working there if he went back home. His family would demand it and he had no wish to cross his father. _Rhuctium, then. Yes._ He hated that he vacillated so much. He was used to others giving him instructions. Demos got up and climbed on his ass, stolen from his father's stable and continued on his way further south. He'd only traveled an hour when he heard someone hail him. He turned to look for the sound of the voice. There were men on horseback, wild men by the look of them, approaching. One was dressed in a rough looking fur-lined cloak. He became immediately wary and spurred his donkey forward.

"Wait! I must ask you a question!" Called the one in the cloak. They hurried to catch up with him.

"What is it?" He asked suspiciously, feeling nervous as they approached. He guessed that they must be a westerly tribe from the horses, for they were certainly not warriors of the king. The man who spoke got down from his horse and lead it behind him, approaching Demos. Demos felt a little less nervous.

"Ahaifa! We are trying to get to Rhuctium and we are not sure of where we are. Would you happen to know which direction it is?" The man asked. He had long, shaggy black hair with bold strips of gray running through it and a long, thick beard with copper ringlets tied within with hard, black eyes. Demos could not quite place his accent.

"I believe it is further south, my friend." The man bowed and clasped his hands together. He did not seem so bad after all. Demos spoke up again.

"I am going that way. You may follow me."

"Thank you, my son! Come, men. This man knows the way to the city." The man grinned at him, calling to his companions.

"Are you traders? Why do you not go to Jhis?"

"Jhis is too fiery these days. You look as if you come from there. Do you not know?" Asked the man, climbing back upon his horse.

"Know what?" Asked Demos. He felt himself break out in a sweat, even against the cool air. The men looked at each other, then at him, like hungry wolves.

"There is an edict, a new one from the king from what we have heard. There are many people leaving there that went to Gamina instead of the Golden Temple." The first man said. "Then there was the burning of the sun god's temple. Riots. Of course you know, I am sure. The edict is this: any man or woman leaving Jhis for Gamina for a festival or holy day is suspected of harboring treasonous rebels or being rebels themselves. Such ones will be questioned and everyone coming back to the city now will be suspect." Demos's heart hammered in his chest. He looked from one man to the other. Their expressions suddenly went hard and menacing.

"I see. That is really too. . .too bad. Well, I am going to Rhuctium." He said weakly.

"No, my son. You are not going there." The man in the furs said and suddenly Demos was very afraid. One of them brandished a long knife. Demos spurred his donkey on and tried to outrun them. He did not get far when the poor beast was shot down with arrows from under him. The donkey wailed, rolled over, breaking a leg and nearly crushed him. He heard one of the men cursing even as Demos cried out in agony.

"You fool! He will be of no use to us damaged!"

"He looks like a scribe or someone with some education. He will not be put in the pits. We can still get a good price for him." Said another.

"With a broken leg he could die on us before we get there!"

"He is wearing very fine, warm robes. He won't need them where he is going. We can sell or trade those too." He felt rough hands pick him up and tie him in strong cloth bands. Someone stuffed a rag in his mouth and they rolled him up in thick cloths to hide him so that he looked like a rolled carpet. He could smell a faint, acrid scent – and he began to drift off into blackness.

The king was at the front gates of the palace and was too busy to pay much attention to her - and she would have it that way. Things were moving exactly in the right direction. Which left her only one more problem to deal with. She called for her guard.

"I would speak with the Most Honored Lady Diti. Bring her here." She stepped out of the hot pool, dripping wet, her hair heavy with water, creating a fat trail of bathwater along the polished stone-tiled floor. A maidservant covered her with a large silken, diaphanous wrap and she lounged upon a divan to receive one of her many daily massages. The air, heavy with steam, was perfumed with olive and kata flower oils. And the slight scent of myrrh. Vala sat on her tiny divan, licking her paws. She stopped and stretched lazily as her mistress rubbed her back. Her collar of sapphires and silver glistened with droplets of steam.

"Vala. You have done well but you failed in your last task. Still, we shall take care of this loose end once and for all." The maidservant massaged her with oils as another squeezed out her hair and began to oil it and comb it. Eventually it was announced that the Lady Diti had arrived.

"Come." Said the queen. A guard brought her in. Lady Diti bowed slightly, her eyes taking a flick across the room. The corners were obscured by steam.

"You bring me to your bathhouse, Your Greatness?"

"You will speak when spoken to. I will forgive the insult because you were once a queen. I called you here because there is a problem, Lady Diti and I believe that together we can solve it."

"What problem, Your Greatness?"

"The problem of things falling into the wrong hands and being heard by the wrong ears. You see, I love the king very much and now that I have born him a healthy son," she paused at this, stared pointedly at Lady Diti, then went on, "I am _especially_ afraid. This Jhis is a wild and dangerous place. Would you not agree?" Lady Diti was not sure what she could divine from this so she kept silent and gave her a curt nod.

"Oh, I am so sorry. Please, sit down and relax yourself." The queen motioned toward a divan and a small marble table across from her. A slender blue glass ewer of wine and a few glass goblets sat on the table. Diti noted the beauty in the intricate, delicate Egian glass work. Probably laced with poison.

"I have no need of food or drink. Thank you, Your Greatness." Lady Diti smoothed her robes slowly and sat down, gazing levelly at the queen. The queen smiled but her gaze was hard as iron.

"Suit yourself. Bring me a drink." She looked at one of her servants who immediately went to the table and poured wine and handed one of the goblets to her. Lady Diti could detect the faint scent of poison in the goblet. A snake venom. One she had been trained to detect by Instructress Matha before she was even married. She then realized the true danger in this woman before her, who could drink poison. To her wonder the queen swallowed it down before speaking again, as if to make a point. She threw the goblet aside, smashing it against the stone on the floor. Then she continued. Their eyes never left each other.

"Would you not agree, Lady Diti?" The queen's smooth voice was now laced with an iron edge. Vala hopped onto the queen's divan and settled herself around her feet, ears twitching.

"I would agree, Your Greatness. It is a dangerous place." She finally said.

"Far more dangerous than your high citadel in Gamina. A queen must have her ways of finding out about things around her. You have done the same, I see. We live in a world created by and for men, do we not? The only way we survive and thrive is by the best way a woman can. Through her own wiles and wit. You understand that two queens cannot live under one roof."

"There is only one queen, Your Greatness. Only and ever has there been one queen in Hybron, at a time."

"You think so? Ah, but you see, there is always more than one side to everything. More than one thing in any situation. A thing that is seen and a thing that is hidden. Sometimes this is good and sometimes it is not."

"Say what you mean."

"I mean this: I cannot be queen while you are here."

"But Your Greatness is queen already. There is no one but the king who can change that."

"Not so. You have more power than I do. You see, many of the people here still regard you as queen over me. We both know this. Do not be coy with me, Lady Diti. We both have our means of finding out what we need. I have gathered enough knowledge to know that there can only be one of us in all the land of Hybron. Right now there are two. To be queen I must not only wear the crown but I must have their hearts."

"And what makes Her Greatness feel as if she does not? When Her Greatness first arrived in Jhis she came in all fanfare and pomp and everyone has fallen in love with her."

"But it is such a fleeting thing, Lady Diti. So fleeting. Now that the bloom of that has worn off we still have two queens who sit in Hybron, one in name and the other in hearts and minds. The hearts and minds of those who would go against their king. Who would rise up against his person and persecute even the people who worship the great god Hec. Who burn his temple, who would create mayhem at the behest of their beloved queen who was put away, who did not bear her king an heir. How is it that there were riots in the street before my coming? Who caused the people to do this? Was it on their own that they rioted in the street before the king's royal wedding? Or was it at your behest? Such power you have. More than the Ainash or the king himself realizes or will acknowledge. Let me be plain. I did not simply arrive in Jhis as a maiden who has not seen the light of day, coddled behind walls and palace caves but one who has come into the world through darkness and sees the world through darkness. I arrived with an army. I arrived with the intent to have a son and I brought forth a son. I arrived in power and I shall keep it from everyone. From you, especially. You are right. You do not wear the crown. But you rule here though many do not see it. I see it and I will have none of it. Your movements are restricted already. I ask you to restrict them once more. I will give you the dignity to do this on your own. The king is gone. You have no friends here in the palace. You were once a queen and I wish to give you your dignity as a gift. But if you cannot see my meaning it will go ill with you." Lady Diti pulled in a sharp breath. The queen's gaze was unblinking and cold, her complexion, even in the hot steam was cold and bloodless. Lady Diti felt the blood draining from her face. After a long silence between them:

"May I go, Your Greatness?" Queen Taliat waved her hand. Her face was impassive and her dark eyes glinting with red lights. The cat was attentive, it's long tail curled around her mistress's feet. They stared at her, cold and menacing like shades in a dream she'd once had. But a thought came to her before she left.

"You speak of hearts and minds, Your Greatness. But the hearts and minds of the people are not taken by force. They are earned. They must love you and respect you. Not fear you." Queen Taliat was silent and unmoved. Lady Diti gathered her voluminous robes and left the bathhouse. She new the queen's meaning. But she still had something left to do. A dream that had come to her for years that finally needed to be brought to life and born out in truth.

The eunuch of the women was brought to her later that day at her request. The king was only now just leaving the city. Lady Diti stared out of her window facing south. There were a forest of standards bobbing as they set off in a great cloud for war, hundreds on horses and thousands on foot. No such great gathering of men had she ever seen since her own wedding day gathered in Jhis. She heard the doors open. It was Ruz. He bowed low, his once smooth face heavily scarred and he moved with a limp.

"Please, do one last thing for me, Ruz." He gave her a suspicious look.

"It is not for me that I ask but for the good of the kingdom."

"What would you ask of me?"

"Tell Zigal that she must save the child, the queen's son. I have had a vision of his death." She then chose her words very carefully. "Please – it may sound strange to you but listen to me! She must save him from certain death. She must watch and listen carefully. When she hears of the king's death, she must save the child."

"The king's death? To even mention such a thing is treason, Lady Diti! I do not understand. . ."

"It is not for you to understand! Only just give her this message. Zigal will understand my meaning. I know that my last request caused you great punishment. I promise you this will be the very last time I ask anything of you. I beg you, please tell her."

He bowed to her, still frowning. She lowered her voice so that only he could hear.

"You well know this new queen and the faction behind her is dangerous, Ruz. You saw what happened to poor Salayma." She reminded him. Ruz swallowed hard and nodded.

"I know, my lady." He said quietly. Then, "I do not understand, but as you say, she may understand the message and I perceived long ago that you are a seer. I will give it to her, Lady Diti."

"Thank you." She collapsed down in a chair and nearly began to sob. His expression softened but she waved him away. After Ruz left she felt as if a great weight had been lifted. Zigal would surely know what she meant. It was out of her hands now. Her greatest task was finished. She did not fear the queen, not truly. She was put here as a place holder and a protectress. God had seen all and guided her. But she regretted that she had not listened to Zigal, that she did not leave sooner but lingered here too long and now there was no way out but one.

. . .

As for the king, he sent out many letters to his officials and vassals in the land. One letter, the most important one, was sent out first and it commanded every vassal and official to send warriors to Jhis and then he made this speech before the gate of the palace with all his army and the people of Jhis:

" _By the power of the Sun God who is mightier than all gods who exist in heaven or in this world or beneath it, I, Khalit-Aisu, who took power by my own mightiness from the hands of my enemies will once again show my might to my enemies. By the might of the One who made me King of Hybron I will make war on Zapulia for the peoples of Zapulia have rebelled against me and their king has made a boast of it. I have sent warnings to them and they did not listen to me. They have refused to stop their wicked deeds and heaped insults upon me in their boasting, accounting their absence of punishment to their demon gods that drink the blood of men. I shall make war upon them and bring them under my rule. I shall crush their gods into dust. I call upon the scribes. May it be written in letter, inscribed upon tablets and etched in stone, my word and my deeds. O Hec, praised."_ And he then left with his army to the south.

**Chapter Thirty**

The king and all his host made south for Beth-Ayin and camped there and took the measure of the town. The reports there were disturbing. The raiders were headed to the coast to their ships. Upon entering the town he found the south wall undermined and near the town square a mass grave of hundreds of men. The raiders had not even spared the male children but had dashed them against the walls and thrown them in the grave. All women and girls of child-bearing age had been taken and those left were the old women. The weeping, wails and shrieks filled the air like a shroud. The king took six garrisons with him and left the foot soldiers and charioteers at the town and went chasing after the raiders. When they had caught up with them on horses they slaughtered all of the raiders there on the beach and carried the women and girls back to Beth-Ayin. He camped there for three days and drew up plans to have the town enlarged and a great wall built around it to fortify it and also the south border all along the coast to the rocky desert border of the far west, the High Lands. He left two garrisons there at the town to secure it and to make preparations for the fortifications. He then moved east to Gamina. And they took up the chant: _"Death to the witches! By the Hand of God! Death to the witches!"_

They arrived at the hill town after nearly nine days of marching, visiting villages in between Jhis and Gamina for supplies. The army encamped around the foot of the town. The gate was barred and locked. The high hill ringed with natural rock made a natural strong wall around the city.

"Set up camp for the night. I will send message to them in the morning. I give the witches two days before we break it down and annihilate everyone in the town and move on." Said the king. In truth, he had far bigger enemies than these women holed up in the citadel. He would be merciful if they opened their gates to him and brought out the Mother of the citadel and her eldest attendants. The rest would be spared. He set about bringing up terms for their surrender. Then he sat back in his tent, thinking of all the things he had yet to accomplish. There was much to do and taking back Zapulia piece by piece, especially it's biggest seaport would be the most important thing in carrying out the rest of his plan. He dreamed of all the heaps of wealth that passed through the port city. He would commission another stela for himself and also a statue of fine marble of the queen to be set in the city square. Then his thoughts settled upon his son. _My strong little Rafka._ His mind was eased somewhat now that things were more secure but he would need more sons to secure his plans for expansion.

"Bring me wine and food and a game. Call my chief court officers, Zarammelech, my tartan of the left and Aquillam, my tartan of the right. Call Caina, my the herald! We shall play Hounds and Jackals!" The personal guard bowed and went his way. Khalit went to the opening of his tent and pulled away the flap. The sky was deepening pink and as the sun sank down it descended into a stew of hazy purple and deep red but there was no other omen he could see. The warriors' hearts were light and confident with a fresh, easy victory and the matter of Gamina would be another easy one. He saw his tartans and the herald approaching, merry with drink, even in the face all the evil omens. And why not? Khalit was convinced now from his council and even the word of the queen that these women in Gamina were the cause of these omens. Did not these desert holy men and woman perform great feats magic and power in the old days? They would not do so any longer while he was on the throne. Not from this temple and not without his say. Even the priests of the temple of Airend-Ur did not believe these things came from God but from demons. He would wipe them all away in a day and then he would deal with Temuz. He would bring Zapulia back into the fold and raise up its true, old name when it was rightfully under Hybronian rule - Ellah, the Land of Bounteous Blessedness.

"My lord king, when you arrive back in Jhis it is time you dealt with those lying priests at the temple."

"It is interesting that you mention it Aquillam. Come! Tell me your thoughts." They were sitting around the table in the king's tent at a long game. Zarammelech nodded eagerly.

"Here is what I and Zarammelech have discussed. That the current priesthood should be removed from their positions. The high priest especially Your Greatness is dangerous. I do not trust him at all! Or his father. And a tax should be levied against the temple. The Golden Temple owes much to its flourishing wealth to you, yet what do they do for the kingdom?" Aquillam urged. The king stroked his beard in thought. He glanced at Zarammelech who took the opportunity to bolster Aquillam's position.

"I agree lord king! And another thing – there are many dangerous people - snakes slithering around your court."

"Are there not devious people in every kingly court Zarammelech?"

"Yes, but usually they fight one another in order to gain the king's favor. These snakes in your court plot against you, my lord king."

"Snakes!" The king laughed.

"But it is a serious matter. And Bakku is at the heart of it. He is the sneakiest serpent of them all. I believe he is a spy for the temple priesthood. I would say this, not only should you remove the head priests and appoint those who would be loyal to the Hybronian throne but to make the matter secure you should create an edict in the land that all those officials living in the land must, at an appointed time, gather together in the city before you and bow down before you publicly as a son of the gods. Kiss your feet even. On the great holy day of the sun god you should declare it and all those refusing will be seen as traitors and must be put to death!" Said Aquillam.

"I like this plan. Furthermore, when I come back to the palace I will have Bakku and all the priests of Airend-Ur brought before me to present this new tax and I shall make the edict. I will see how far I can push them. How far will they go to worship their lord and king? To keep their positions? Interesting. Yes, they _must_ do an act of worship to me in front of the people to prove their loyalty, to test them out."

"And if that does not sift them out there are other ways." Said Aquillam. The king stroked his long, luxuriant curled beard, the rings tied within tinkled together. He glanced at them both.

"Yes, Aquillam and Zarammelech, you both are speaking right, for am I not strong and is not my son a son of the gods? After this is over, you two must come up with all the details of the plan to test them all out. Bring it to me and I shall sign it and put my seal upon it."

"Indeed lord king!" Said Aquillam. "It is an excellent way to find those who are disloyal to you and of those there are many among the Ainash."

They had only days left to prepare for a siege and now the army was approaching. They looked like a great crowd of locusts, ready to overtake the town. The people of the land had either fled into the desert or entered the courtyard of the citadel. People were stepping on top of each other with their livestock and meager possessions. Anet, Kaisha and the other younger girls were in charge of seeing about the people of the land who had come for refuge. The guardian scions were ready to take aim with arrow at anyone approaching the citadel. Torches and pitch were at the ready for flaming arrows and they wore tunics of metal over their robes and swords at their sides under their sash belts. Anything that could be used to throw down was piled up around in the courtyard and soon Anet was put in charge of this task for the guardian scions. They stood like grim sentinels ringed around the parapets of the towers.

"Can they get in here?" She asked fearfully.

"It is possible." Said Lita. "But do not fear. God sees all and even if we do not win we have our reward for being true. Paradise." Anet knew this but she still wanted to be here, at least for a little while.

"Look at it another way, Anet. Several times in history men have tried to take this citadel down and they failed."

"But those men were Hatchet Men. This is a true army."

"Indeed it is, but if God sees fit to help us He will and if He does not there is a reason for it and it does not pay to dwell upon it. What is, is what is. But I do not think we shall fail." She winked at Anet. Anet looked over the balcony wall at the army below down the hill. It seemed vast.

"Are you afraid Lita?"

"A little. It is not wrong to have fear. What does one do when fear overtakes, Anet?"

"Pray."

"Then pray." As the dusk deepened she watched as they brought out the battering rams. There were two of them with great carved lions' heads mounted on the battering ends. The trunks were so big, Anet had not seen anything like them in her life. The army camps bloomed at night with camp fires and as the night wore on there were mists that descended and the fires looked like fluttering moths of light in the blackness. The moons were completely obscured and there was only the fire light in the citadel and the dim pinpoints of fire light within the camps below. Out of the gloom was the ram's horn call.

"Sisters, come! People, come to the courtyard! Let us all pray!" And they did so with Mother Berenice leading the prayers. Anet, even in the cold mists no longer felt cold but a heat, a fire within. They prayed, man, woman and child, into the early hours of the morning. Then the men took up their own weapons if they had them or any weapons they could find and stationed themselves either in the citadel parapets or behind the town gate. The women busied themselves by further reinforcing the gate with barricades. In the morning they heard a voice outside the gate.

"This is what my lord the king of Hybron has said: ' _"Why do you sit here under siege in Gamina? Is it to die with the witches that you sit here?" '._ Here the town of Gamina and the land all around will certainly be given into my lord the king's hand and he is also your lord and king but the king is merciful. Do not be deceived, you people of Gamina. The king is ready to show mercy to all those showing loyalty to him so that he will not have to put you to death, you, your women and your little ones. It is the god Hec that has given the king all that he has, that has given Hybron into his hand and it is these witches of the citadel who must answer for their treason against the king. Do not share in their folly. Come out to us and we will not burn the town down. Do you not see the cavalry? Do you not see his host? Come out to us and bring out the witches, the old ones, the ones cackling over entrails and deceiving you with evil signs and portents, who rule this citadel. Bring them out to us and we shall not destroy you. If you do not, this is what King Khalit, the king of Hybron, your king has said: _"For it is treason that you are gathered here against me and I shall come up against it like a wind against a pile of feathers and I shall raze it to the ground. I will set it to fire and burn it and all of you within its walls and the town shall have to be burned down and sown with salt."_ Listen to my voice, oh people of Gamina and open your gates and you shall be spared the king's wrath!" It was the tartan Zarammelech. He had a hollowed out horn so great that three attendants had to hold it up to his lips as he spoke through it but it made his voice carry throughout the town and it frightened the people. Mother Berenice stood as still as a statue and she the raised her hand as the murmuring grew into a great outcry of fear from the people inside.

"Will you be afraid in this hour? Please, do not be afraid for God is with us. If you bring us out to them or let them cause us to fight amongst ourselves they will certainly kill all of us anyway. Why should they spare us? How do you know he is being truthful? Do not do this thing to us! We have served you all these years faithfully!" The town-keeper came to the front and faced the crowds.

"She speaks right! Do not fear them! This is not the first time men have come to destroy the town. It still stands."

"But they will burn us all alive in here!" Shouted someone.

"They will not. Look. He sends a sign to us." Said Mother Berenice pointing to the sky. The morning was covered in low clouds, dark gray and thick. From far off rain began to fall. Over the wall they could hear the jeers and derision from the warriors of the king's army.

"They will set nothing to fire today!" She said triumphantly.

"Men, get to your stations!" The town-keeper commanded. A sign was given and their fear passed and they readied themselves.

"Madam, this feels like treason though I know it be right. I have never in my life gone up against the king. May God protect us." He said. Then the town-keeper steeled himself and went to the wall to answer the chief official. And he said:

"We will not open the gate to you and we will not deliver the women of the citadel to you for what you are seeking is not right. If what we do is right we shall succeed. If what we do is wrong we will fail but we will not open the gates to you or deliver the women into your hand." And Mother Berenice approached the wall, filled with boldness and she said to them: "Tell the king this: because you have left the path of wisdom and because you have killed many innocent men and women and you come to kill those who are doing good in the eyes of God, this is what Airend-Ur is saying to you – you will die and you will not march on to Zapulia nor will you get the glory for yourself for God has left you because you left Him. Encamp against it and fight against the citadel but you will not prevail and you must die and your men will scatter like dust!" She prophesied. Zarammelech cursed her and called down evil on her and the town-keeper. Then he went back to the king. When the tartan informed the king of all the things they had said he became so enraged that he broke the tables in his tent, smashing them to pieces.

And the battle of Gamina began.

They could not burn it with fire because it began to rain with fury so they began ramming the doors of the gate. The people inside put up carts, millstones, heavy stones anything they could find that would be used. The archers of the citadel let loose hundreds of arrows, a shock to the army outside the gate as they had assumed there were no warriors amongst them. But there were the guardian scions and some of the men among the townsfolk who were skilled with the bow and arrow and they rained poisoned arrows down upon them. Mother Berenice herself prayed for their release and deliverance. Anet ran to the utmost tower with Nitara and Nirka, lugging bags of heavy rock. They quickly passed behind the guardian scions loosing their arrows. Several had fallen, injured by the arrows of soldiers below. One of them was Lita, who was riddled with arrows. Anet tried to stop to see about her but Nitara warned her.

"Anet! Please hurry! We do not have time! Worry not for her and keep going! Someone will see about her!" Anet choked down her sobs as she took up the sack and kept going until they made it up the long stairs to the top tower. There was a giant slingshot stationed there. Anet could see the guardian scions and the townsmen below letting loose volleys of arrows. Lightening flashed and flickered silently within the thick blanket of clouds. The archers in the king's army began flying flaming arrows but they had no effect because of the rain. A terrible streak of lightening, like a great, hideous arm of light tore through the camp and with it blew a tempestuous wind from the north. It was so bright it lit up the entire sky and the land and for only a moment, it seemed like daylight. A great white fire exploded within the middle of the army camp throwing it into mass confusion. In the confusion the king could be seen close by the gate. And at last, when most of the stones to hurl down into the army ranks had been thrown one of the guardian scions picked up a large gaming ring and hurled it with all her might and skill down below. It smashed open the king's skull as he was sitting upon his horse.

One of the attendants caught him as he fell. The lightening kept striking the camp and a few more fell by the arrows slung from the citadel. The king's breathing became heavy and labored.

"Aquillam, please, I am dying and I know not where I will go after this."

"May your soul find itself in the halls of the sun god, my lord king!"

"I. . .do not know. . . if only I would be judged righteous by Hetar. By Ai. . ."

"My lord king?"

"I am dying. The regency. . .with her uncle. . .must be called up from Egium."

"I shall do this with all speed Your Greatness!" Said Aquillam. Zarammelech came by his side.

"Here. Take my signet ring. You men, see this here. . .that. . .is one that has authority as messenger to take over and send all my letters I have prepared. Among them I have made arrangements for regency. You two. . .my chief generals and my chief princes of the court, Bedai and Ekka and the queen's uncle must take over until my son. . .my Rafka is of age." He began to breathe raggedly.

"Zarammelech, take your sword and run me through or I shall be shamed. Never let it be said that I was killed by a woman." At this Zarammelech took his sword and before Aquillam and the king's closest attendants he ran him through and the king died at Gamina at the gate.

And the gate was never broken through for the camp broke and scattered in confusion, most of them heading west, back to Jhis in fear of the storm for they knew it was a sign from above.

Yet, is it not written in the book of the Holy Aishanna that Khalit, who took power upon himself in the year 1663 of the month of Zali, putting the Kushigyar, the head ruler of the city of Jhis to death was himself killed in the Battle of Gamina by a woman of the Citadel? His body was then taken and laid in the Tomb of the Kings near the city of Jhis. He was not laid down with his tribal forefathers. Test these words out and find them true.

**-** _The Third Book of the Kings, 15:57,_ **Translations of The Holy Aishanna.**

**Chapter Thirty-One**

The month of Kiphaz, 1685 A.T.V.

Zigal had never seen such signs in the sky before. First, the blood pour of stars during the child's birth and now, this strange storm. She felt numb and lost without the Lady Diti, the true queen, in her heart. Lady Diti had instructed her to pretend to act as a spy for the queen and it had worked. Or so she thought, at first. She finished her cup of mother's tea, to make more milk in her breasts. The babe, now just eight weeks old, nursed quietly as she wept softly. It was only a week ago that she had found out even worse news. Lady Diti had fallen from her balcony window and now this message. Where could she flee to that would be safe for a young baby? And now there was this dreadful storm! She had no time to grieve properly and dared not do it openly with the queen's spies around. The message had been slipped under the door late one night, a few weeks ago, after the maidservant had left.

She waited until he was finished nursing, wrapped him in swaddling cloths and she put him in his cradle and took out her knife from underneath the cradle covers and slipped it under her robes. She quickly wiped her face. She was being watched like prey under the eyes of jackals. She would have to take quick action and it meant the death of one of the queen's servants. Tryga, who trailed her like a shadow had forced Zigal to curtail her movements. And she wondered about the black cat. She was sure that it was a messenger cat but this night she felt an alarming sensation within, like a soul-scream impelling her to move upon the Lady Diti's words or else all would fail. There was no time for planning. _If this child is the one foretold, may I escape, unseen. . ._

"Tryga, the baby's swaddlings are all dirty. We will need more for tomorrow." The room was flooded with light from the flickering lightening, making everything turn to a shadow-self for fleet moments. The maidservant seemed wholly unaffected by this. Most people feared such storms. Most people who were reverent and had the fear of the gods in them, but she wondered about this sinister woman who served the queen. She wondered about the queen as well but there was no time for wondering this night.

"Yes, Zigal. I will have some ready by the morning. Will there be anything else?" She said in that cold, sharp voice. Tryga's eyes, which looked like black holes in her face bored into hers.

"No, except that please take these bands of linen and wool to the wash rooms. They stink and I cannot take the smell." She lifted up a neat bundle of dirty swaddling bands for the maidservant. As she approached she slipped the knife from her robes, it's long blade cold against her skin. She shoved the sack against the woman and then with a quick, powerful motion jabbed the blade into the side of her torso, deep into the kidneys. The maidservant began to cry out. Zigal shoved the woman to the ground, took the sack and smothered her face with it and turned the knife. And kept the sack over her head until the maidservant's body finally lay still. She listened for any sound. There was no sound that she could hear except the thunder. She detected a moving shadow under a chair. It was the queen's cat. She took the knife and threw it at the cat. The cat disappeared swiftly into the other bedroom, her room. The blade missed its mark and stood rooted in the rug. She picked it up, wiped it off and slid it beneath her robes next to her waist. Zigal took the baby and put him in a carrying sack and tied it along her shoulder and put this under her robes and she snatched the keys from Tryga's tunic. She was free from the room, at least. They had taken to locking her in with the baby at night. She opened the doors and looked around. Far down the hall she heard a guard approaching. She could see the slip of his shadow against the wall down the hall. She turned the other way and slipped down, covering her head with her veil. She looked like a fat, old woman, an extremely religious one who covered her face. Good enough disguise. There was a door that the servants used not far from here and now that it was night there would not be much movement for a few hours still. She thought she could hear eerie, creeping noises everywhere. She began to sweat and the baby began to stir. She found the narrow door, one of many in the palace that took one behind the walls and rooms of the king and queen and their councilors and officers and into the bowels of the palace; the workrooms and the servants' quarters, and finally leading to a secret tunnel out into the city. There were still a few secret places in the palace the queen did not know of. From there she would have to find the old, forgotten cistern that led into the abandoned catacombs underneath Jhis, to an underground river, which led to the city that was not named above the ground. She feared as to whether she would make it with the child. Zigal said a silent prayer, shed tears for her dear lady and her regret over slaying Tryga. She took a torch from its sconce and fled in the storm by this dark and secret way.

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

He drifted in and out of consciousness for what seemed like many days. Or weeks. He did not know which, nor did he know whether it was day or night. He could hear muffled noises of horses and wagon wheels and men talking and laughing every now and then before he fell back into drugged sleep. His body was racked with pain. He remembered being beaten several times for trying to run away. The last time they had wrapped him up in thick blankets and mercilessly beat him into submission. He was so afraid he wept like a child, which garnered mocking and derision. He'd guessed by now that they were traveling along a trade route, perhaps the slave trade route to Egi and it shocked him that it did not matter to them that he was of high birth.

"What is that to us? It means he can read, which will fetch us a good price. He is good-looking as well." Said the one who was always leering at him.

"We will see once we get to Yilphaeus. He will fetch a good price as a scribe, I think. A little old for the brothels. Too bad we haven't found anyone else along the way." Said the one in furs, the leader. They uncovered his wraps to allow him to go to toilet and to eat and drink, feeding him millet mush and milk and water and a little bird meat. Demos's head hurt but he was careful to remain as quite as a mouse. It was night when they had finally stopped. They left him in the wagon and set up camp. Demos wondered how he had come to this miserable end when he tried to only help. God had turned his back on him. Was he being punished? Did he not do enough? Tears streamed from his face as he wondered how he would die. He wanted to die. There was nothing worse than slavery. That was a fate for lesser people. He never imagined it would turn out like this. He wanted to die but he could not even do that without the permission of these men. He thought on it. Their accents and looks, now that they did not drug him again this night and he had retained a little sense of perception, said that they were of the Gilphaen tribe in Egi, who loathed city people. They worshiped gods he knew not. He felt the wagon wobble. Someone was climbing in.

"Water. Drink." Someone pushed the water skin to his mouth. He drank as if he were a hungry infant at the breast. Then the water skin was taken away. His bands were eased. A hand went over his mouth.

"A pretty thing. I am not so sure you are a boy. Maybe we should find out." It was the one he feared most, who roughed him up in ways that suggested ill intentions besides selling him off. Demos twisted to get away from him and he slammed him against the side of the wagon and began tearing at his clothes. With his mouth covered Demos tried with his might to yell. It came out a pitifully muffled sound. The man turned him over and mounted him. He took a knife and pinned his hand to the floor boards with it, enjoying Demos's useless struggle. Demos wailed in terror.

"Caius! Leave him!" Called one of the others. Caius ignored him.

"I said leave the boy! We need a clean uninjured slave not you damaging the goods!"

"Shut up, Gorass! I will do what I will!" Then there was a different voice. The leader of the group opened the hangings.

"Get off of him and get out of there. _I_ am telling you. I will not tell you again." The man's voice was cold and quiet. "We will be in Egium soon enough. You can have all the _kuya_ you want. Go sit down somewhere and cool yourself before I cut off your _lujus_." There was a flash of metal, a long, curved ugly knife the leader flashed under his cloak. Caius got up and pulled down his tunic. He took the knife from Demos's bloodied hand and climbed out of the wagon, scowling.

"Excited, are you? I am sorry there are no sheep around for you to abuse but you will not satisfy yourself on this slave. Go rub your _lujus_ down with sand!" The leader said scornfully. The other men laughed and jeered. The man peered into the wagon, then climbed in to check on him. He sucked his teeth at seeing the wound in Demos's hand. Blood was seeping out everywhere.

"That could become infected. Emaz! Come and treat the boy's hand. Caius, the damned fool, cut him up for fun it looks like." The man was angry. He jumped out of the wagon after Caius and threatened him.

"If we do not get the price we are looking for I will beat you like a man beats a stupid dog, you hear me?" He shouted. Caius said nothing. Emaz came in and washed and dressed the wound and fed him some cactus and bird stew. He was then wrapped again in bands and blankets and given wine to drink. Hoping his life would end soon, Demos fell into fitful sleep.

After many more days of travel he detected that they had reached a city. Yilphaeus. He'd resorted to counting how many times he felt a bump in the road to keep himself from falling into madness. There were so many he stopped counting for a few days but boredom and fear of the unknown got him counting again. At least there was no more trouble from Caius. The loud noisy sounds of a market gradually became louder. A slave market. Demos felt himself being hoisted up and carried, then set on the ground. His bonds and wraps were taken off. The sun was blindingly bright and it pained his eyes to open them. He was stripped naked and pushed into a tent and onto the ground.

"Only one?"

"Yes, this time only one. There will be more next time."

"He has bruises all over him. What is that on his hand?" Asked a man.

"A bandage. It was a long journey and he had some spirit still left in him. We had to break him."

"Not too much, I hope?"

"Not too much." Said the lead tribesman. The stranger lowered his voice.

"Follow me and bring him. My master hosts a private auction. There are two men at his house who want a look your finds." They put him in back in the wagon and went to see the stranger's master. Demos peeked out of the covering of the wagon. They passed a large plaza where he saw hundreds of naked people from all over many lands, standing; men, women and children, held in ropes. Slaves.

After a time of bumpy travel through the dizzying maze of streets they arrived at a palatial house. Demos's body pained him so he did not know what to do. He no longer had the will to weep. He felt dead inside and tried to think about the many ways he could die by his own hand. If he was sold to a brothel. . .

He was woken abruptly.

"Wake up, boy!" They grabbed him by his ankles and his bonds and hauled him into a room beneath the house, a large cellar, of a sort. It was dim enough that his head was no longer in pain. He was set in front of three men, one of them the owner of the house.

"Master, we have a youth. For a better price than a man would pay at the market." Demos stood there, all his dignity gone. The leader of the tribesmen that captured him, the master of the house, his servant and two other men were there studying him as if he were a hindquarter at the market. Two of them leered, the others appraised him with cold eyes.

"Hmm. How old is he?" Asked the owner.

"How old are you, boy?" Asked the tribesman.

"Sixteen years." Demos said timidly. The brothel owner, heavily made up with kohl around his eyes, wearing bright green fancy silks and peacock feathers in his hair and a gold sash and many rings on his fingers made a disappointed sound.

"A little older than I am seeking. May I inspect him?" The owner nodded. Demos became frightened. Too frightened to move.

"Stand up, boy." He stood and the man began running his hands over him. When he was done there was no place he had not probed. He had been raped only without the man's own member. The man looked satisfied, then waved his hand dismissively.

"Too old." Demos did not know whether to be relieved or frightened. How would he be humiliated next?

"I will take him. After your inspection I can see he is healthy enough for what I need him for." Said the other man. He turned to Demos and looked him straight in the eye.

"Can you read and write, boy?" Demos nodded briskly.

"How many languages?"

"Alhar, Egian and Shirpul."

"Excellent. I will pay for this one." He said. This man wore plain, black robes. He was stooped with wispy hair that barely covered his scalp and with no adornment but one piece of simple jewelry – a symbol in silver hanging from a silver chain. It was the symbol of two half moons on either side of a golden sun. He was an alchemist. Demos had only heard things about them and none of them good. Their guilds and the very practice of alchemy was outlawed in Jhis. He did not know if he should weep or laugh. Was this really a better choice?

"I ask one hundred-fifty silver pieces for him."

"One hundred-fifty?" The man in black asked, incredulous. "How about a sack of scented pearl rice? It is the finest. . ."

"Keep your rice! I came for money."

"But it is the finest, most delicately perfumed white rice in all of Egi!" Said the alchemist. The others in the room chuckled.

"Come, sir! What do you say?"

"We do not eat rice."

"You cannot _afford_ rice, you mean." He sneered.

"I meant what I said." The tribesman was becoming impatient.

"But one hundred-fifty pieces of silver?" Complained the alchemist.

"What do you expect to trade for such an educated slave? A bowl of rocks? Olive pits? Come now! You insult me!"

"Fifty silver pieces then."

"One hundred-fifty." They went on this way for some time until it was agreed that he was worth one hundred silver pieces. An obscenely low price for someone of his education.

"Not cheap, but I will buy. One hundred pieces of silver." The alchemist said and took out a bag of silver coins and counted the pieces and gave them to the owner. The owner than shared half of these with the leader of the tribe. Then he turned to the other men gathered there.

"I have other traders coming here soon with slaves for you to take a look at. I will operate here in my house so long as the Trader's Guild does not catch wind of it." He turned to the tribe leader. "Find more from Jhis. Good, healthy ones with good breeding if you can manage it. This was a good find!" The alchemist gave Demos a plain black tunic and a plain black robe to put on. Then he led him outside to his horse. The horse was an old gelding, nearly as stooped and gray as the alchemist. The man scrambled up upon his horse and holding on to Demos's ropes they left the property. The alchemist gave him a calculating look.

"It looks like they broke you in well enough. It is good that fop from the brothel did not want you. He'd put you to work immediately. When we get home I'll get you something to eat and you can take your ease for the rest of the day but there is work to be done tomorrow. Lots of work. And in case you get a notion of running away," he brought out a scourging whip from beneath his robes and cracked it on Demos's back. The bones and metal balls at the end cracked over his skin and drew blood. Demos winced and whimpered, "do not even think to try anything foolish and do not let my feeble looks fool you. I am very good with a whip and with knives and I paid my price for you." Demos, beaten and sullen, looked around him. Yilphaeus was a ramshackle place, disorganized and dirty, even filthier than Jhis. There were no monuments or palaces as far as he could see. Nothing of the beauty of Egium or the grandness of Jhis. It was just a city with lots of buildings and houses. A big, dirty, ugly city full of loud, shouting people, bawling, squalling animals and filth. Filth of human and animal waste in the streets, filth from the slaughtering tents. People yelling and selling wares, and people and animals being sold. He never imagined from the high, hallowed halls of the Golden Temple and his endless tasks of dull but important recopying of holy texts and writing letters and being among his own people that he would have fallen so low. He felt the weight of crushing grief and desperation dragging him down into darkness. He was lost, to his family, to the world, to God who had turned His back upon him. He'd lost his freedom, he'd lost his honor. As a slave he would never be allowed to grow a beard, to truly become a man. He trudged carefully behind his new master's horse as they made their way through the jungle of flies, mosquitoes, rats and people and caravans. This was his new life.

Ilim finally made it back within the protective arms of the Raea tribe. It was Nasim and several of his brothers who saw him and took him with them. Smuggled out of the city, he would have to find a way to get to the king's son or find someone who could. How he would accomplish this he did not know. Airend-Ur often put his servants in positions that seemed impossible and this looked like one more impossible trial. It was a rainy, stormy night but the tent, the poles and the stakes held fast. They were camping only two days away from the city of Rhe, reclining in the tent of Nasim who was newly betrothed, and sharing a pot of tea among them and a dish of Pufok, ground raw mutton with raw eggs and peppers to strengthen them for the journey ahead when the mysterious desert holy man appeared. His robes were aglow, white as lightening and flashing like new crystal as he appeared before them. He called out to Ilim.

"Ilim, my brother! Come out!" Ilim pulled back the entrance flap and saw him standing there. He was now used to mysterious sights but he marveled at the man in white all the same.

"It is I, Saujiah, the one who has come to raise up the desert prophets in His name. You have seen me in your dreams Ilim." Ilim came on out and when he saw him he fell down upon his face.

"Do not do that. I am only a messenger, come to strengthen you for the days ahead. The dark days are coming in Jhis and all the land and you will be one that will show the way of the light into the world and you will prepare the way for the Red King. The child is safe. Do not worry for him now. You will know where he is when the time is right. But you must know now that the king is dead. His attack on the citadel failed. Dark days will become darker before the light of the king comes. I give you this message from Airend-Ur Himself." The other men exclaimed in joy and fear at seeing him and bowed down.

"I shall now reside in the north on the plains of the White Bones but only those who are holy and true of heart shall approach me. I shall be there when the greatest need arises and my role shall change from messenger to guardian, for you and others must eventually takeover from me, Ilim."

"Surely we have seen it now. God moves upon the ground of the world in this day." Said one of the men. At that, the messenger disappeared.

"It is now like in the days of Nagilla the Great One of God. He has now raised up Saujiah, a holy one." said Ilim.

"Ellah Kaifah." They murmured.

"I hope I can live up to this commission." Said Ilim worriedly.

"Do not fear, father. You will do all that you must and you will triumph. When God's arm is with you, you cannot fail. Not even in death." Said Nasim. For the rest of that night the men recited passages from the holy book to strengthen themselves until they all thought that they could not have more joy in their hearts; then they recited the legends, songs and poems of kings, chroniclers and the warriors of old. Though Ilim did not usually care for these legends and epics, as they were often overly fanciful and often had little to do with the Holy Aishanna, this night he was full of happiness and he had to admit that there was a grain of truth in some legends. He listened as they recited one of the legends of the ancient holy warrior Ishuye who looked upon the Llordis Sea, the only warrior from the holy book to ever travel that far, to battle with the dragon Abgaron and take back a holy scroll the dragon had stolen from a cave:

Standing upon the shore of the deep dark sea

I journeyed, through seas of sand in the south.

Specter of death moves beneath the north waters

mighty Abgaron in his watery lair knew not of me.

His father it was who showed him the first scrolls

wishing to obscure the knowledge of Airend-Ur,

to slander the First Pillar who made all there is.

To burn it, he cast them upon his dark fired-coals.

Seeing that they would not burn, being of Light

He cast them in the Llordis, cold and dark

and commanded Abgaron to swallow them,

Great and Mighty Abgaron, black as Night.

He came up and took the Holy Writings down,

into his lair, where no man goeth, save by death

but I, with the arm of God, I dove in the dark sea

to its very heart, not for glory, not for renown.

Not for gold or silver, electrum or pearl

did I do this thing but for the greatest thing -

the Writings of Life, did I do it, with a sword

of star-fire I sought him and with it I did hurl

right into it's mouth I threw it and followed down

into the maw of darkness I sank and sank,

but look! A light in the black, the scrolls,

there! I carved the beast when the scrolls I found,

He roared in rage and anguish but could not stand

against the might of the sword of the First Pillar

and so I took the scrolls and gave them to the Tribes

and thereafter the Word of God went forth and filled the land.

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

The town gate, nearly broken down, was still barricaded shut against all outsiders, though the armies had left. A few scions had died, hit by arrows but there was victory for the citadel once again. Yet the mournful wails for the dead ones continued, a dirge that many of the scions and the people kept up all the night and into the morning. Anet no longer had any tears left to cry for the fallen. Like Lita.

Anet, Kaisha, Irtal and the other young ones lay huddled in their room. It was still overwhelming for them, even now that the battle was over and they were safe. Anet did not know how she would have fared if she had not prayed every hour of the day and night and through all her tears. Footsteps pattered down the hall outside their bedroom door. She had a burning desire in her, she needed to know something. Slowly she got up to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Asked Kaisha.

"To see Mother Berenice. I have to ask her something important." She said. Kaisha just nodded.

"Stay with them, Kaisha." She left the room and climbed the stairs to Mother Berenice's study. The falling footsteps belonged to Mother Berenice.

"Mother! Mother!" Anet called. Mother Berenice stopped and turned around. Her face was drawn and colorless yet she looked serene.

"Yes, Anet?"

"Mother Berenice, my dreams. I want to know what they mean. I need to know." Mother Berenice smiled.

"I wondered when you'd ask. Come child, tell me your dreams in full and we will pray on the matter and He will give us an answer as He has given us the victory."

"Find him! This pestilent man! Oh! I am in a mood tonight!" She raged. "This false prophet who has been preaching against the city and raining down curses upon the land and the king! It is now a fact from the king's own lips, anyone harboring this man is no friend to the crown and is indeed a traitor! Why is it that he is cursing the peoples of Hybron? Is it that he desires the death of the peoples and of the king? He is a wicked man and anyone helping him must be put to death!" Cried the queen to Bakku. This was the first time in years that he had truly felt apprehensive about his plans and his schemes. A twinge of fear rose in him when he looked at the queen. Her eyes blazed bright with a weird fire. He sat with all of the letters of the king before him, new edicts to hunt for traitors, all those that it was noted who left the city around the time of the Festival of Firsts. He had the very will in his hand for the regency if the king died, which no one believed could happen. Many of the traitors had not returned but some had. There was a record made by the King's Guard at the East and West Gates. There were also the edicts for new stelae, one of his triumph, new buildings and a new, even more grand temple to Hec. The queen had gathered all of her men who came with her and her father out of Egi and in fact as of now, there were now more of them than there were of Hybronian warriors in the city. Some of the priests had complained of seeing so many foreign warriors patrolling the city to Bakku. They did not like it and secretly strove to recruit more men to their unofficial militia. The deeds they had seized from some of the low peoples, deeds to homes and businesses were now used as generous bribes for those interested in joining the Hatchet Men. Bakku told his brethren that they would soon jointly run the kingdom with the queen and this made them suspicious and now he had to contend with the more contentious ones on the priestly council, like Zarhaz.

Until the day came. The very day the queen was railing against Ilim. Everyone thought it good to follow her demands to have him executed and anyone who helped him. Yet, the armies had come back from the battle in Gamina with the news. It was Zarammelech and Aquillam and the king's closest attendants that brought back the news to the palace, to the queen and her ladies and assembled councilors, to their surprise. Among them was Bakku with the edicts and the will hidden in a bound, skin folder.

The king's men found her in the banquet hall of the King's House with her ladies and councilors, sitting by a fire in the brazier. They bowed slightly before her.

"My lords. Why do you look so distressed?"

"We came as soon as we could. The raiders in Beth-Ayin we killed, all of them and took their boats and the women they took and we brought them back, yet at Gamina, the king was killed." Dead silence.

"The king was killed." She stated as if dumbfounded.

"Do you remember just over nine days ago the first rain storm that came? It was a terrible storm from the gods! From Turok himself!"

"I remember, Zarammelech. There have been several more since that morning. It was an omen." She well remembered it and did not see it the same way the people of Hybron did. In fact, she had wished it. The storms of wind and rain. The blood star spray during the birth of the child. It foretold her ascension to greatness. To godhood. Her face remained a mask.

"There is the matter of the regency, for your son, Your Greatness." He said. She snapped her head up suddenly and looked at him as if he'd reminded her of something she'd long forgotten. She had not seen or sent for the child in over ten days. Yet, she thought she'd heard condescension in his voice. Aquillam glowered at her and at those assembled around her in suspicion.

"Yes, my lords. But let me mourn my husband and king. And please, I must see his body. You must bring it to me." Her voice broke.

"I am truly sorry, Your Greatness. May he live forever." Zarammelech said sadly.

"Perhaps a more fitting place for your mourning would be the Queen's Apartments." Said Aquillam, his voice clipped and cold. She lowered her eyes and wept.

"Forgive me, my lords. I have been too forward in coming to the King's House. Allow me, please, to compose myself first." They bowed to her and left for the king's study. As soon as their footsteps had receded she asked for all of the new written edicts, letters and the king's seals. Bakku handed her the bound folder and she carefully looked through all of the letters and the will. She took a long, thin knife and tore the will into pieces and threw them into the brazier. And then she gave the order. And before the king's generals, attendants and officials had gotten very far in the palace they were put to death by the sword in the king's throne room by the queen's chief officials and their warriors.

As soon as she had known that the king had died she rose up and she put everyone known to be loyal to the king to death. She also commanded and put all of the king's women, his concubines and all their children, all the king's sons and daughters to death and she ordered that the king's heir, her son be dashed to pieces but he had been concealed before she gave the order. Thus, it was that Queen Taliat began ruling as queen in Hybron and Egi.

**-** _The Third Book of the Kings 20:1_ **, Translations of The Holy Aishanna**

End of Book One

APPENDIXES

**Appendix A**

Religion

A most important element needed to understand the antiquity cultures of the Red Planet is the study of religion. Whether the time, what is now called the Fertile Age, between 5125 B.T.V. And 2099 B.T.V. or the place, south of Jura or north of Volgur, each culture should be understood by their religious beliefs and customs.

\- M.H. Lady Faruma Oudem, Royal Historian and Head Instructress of King's Outer Planets College of History

It is chiefly understood that Divine Purpose was the driving force in the great upheavals of many societies across the planet. We find that whether the culture upheld religious customs that were Monotheistic or Polytheistic, myriad ancient historical and religious texts and clay tablets inform us that upheavals were believed by these ancient peoples to be created and guided by divine forces. And surely there were numerous strange things that cannot be explained within the framework of naturalism. For instance, if we focus upon the ancient kingdom of Hybron, there are many things that do not add up in any natural way but led to the precipitous second rise of the Reshaim, of which there are still descendents today.

Let us look at just a few things that lead us to the conclusion of Divine Purpose. The great sages that were sent forth. There are many records of ancient writers, not only in Hybron that record their many astounding feats. Ancient historians from Hybron, Jura, Funda and other lands have recorded them. Of the authenticity of these documents there is no question. The greatest messenger-servant of God, Nagilla, had been called back to his heavenly abode but Saujiah, at a later time, was sent forth in his stead to reinvigorate and reawaken the Divine Purpose in the land. Also, after the Destruction the Aishanna-La were largely scattered and remained so for centuries. As the accounts tell us, a few desert holy women made the very dangerous trek across the deserts and found the ancient, abandoned fortress in Gamina. How? Besides that, they, with the help of the humble people already living there and a few others that came with them out of the darkness and chaos of Hybron at that time built it up and defended it for many years against powerful military invaders. How?

Then there is the question of preserving the genetic line of the Reshaim all through the dark ages which spanned about five hundred years. How might such a thing be preserved in ancient cultures that did not have the knowledge and the tools we have today? Yet, we modern peoples of the stars know they have been preserved when we study and match the genetic material from living descendents with that of the preserved mummies of the ancient Reshaim. Divine Purpose is also evident when we note the _Renaissance_ that never truly ended, that brought an end to the Age of Darkness.

The Role of The Feminine

The Aishanna-La were and are a people of one god. Oneness in everything is important to them. In the old times they had men called judges, or desert holy men - and a few women - to teach and move the people and effect events at key times along the timeline of Purpose in history. During the days before the Veiled Time these holy men were more numerous. Large portions of the Aishanna they did not have that we have in our time which has eliminated the need for "desert fathers" though there are still the revered instructors of the Law, the History and the Writings. It is interesting to note how the religion shifted and changed over time, as all religions do, specifically for women. Things roll back or they shift forward, depending upon the needs or desires of the people living in a particular time period. Ancient peoples did not understand it but seen from the clear sight of distance, it is very much tied to the entire revelation of the Ascension and the Unification of Man and Woman into a whole, oneness; a lesson for us. In the "old days" most women cared for home and family – and that aspect has not really changed – but there were those that either were chosen by external powers or chose on their own to follow the godly path of the desert holy woman. After the great apostasy of the Aishanna-La priesthood – who began calling themselves Ainash, meaning "separate men" in Alhar, which lead to the Destruction and then the Scattering, there were precious few desert holy men, much less women. A few women escaped to a citadel in Gamina and rebuilt it, retaining the core religious customs, no doubt guided by a Purposeful Hand. The core beliefs did not change but other things did. Most of their later spiritual descendents did not have the same divinely given gifts. Perceiving this lessening of holy talents they then called themselves scions, The Scions of the Desert Mothers, specifically. This sudden and unintentional group became a strong religious community that served three purposes; first, to shine as a light in the land and set an example to outsiders as to what the essence of the old ways are, Second, to preserve alive these faithful women and third, through them, preserve the old ways in the land for the people. But things changed over time. In this case, all for the better. An excerpt from the "History of Religions of the Southern Hemisphere on Chialis, Volume Three":

" _The citadel housed the women of the Aishanna religion who were devoted to serving God wholly, either until they reached the age of marriage, which was sixteen years, or for their entire lives. They lived and worked a life of study, practical work, prayer and service to any community they came in contact with. Many Scions were children from faithful families who were too poor to care for them. Some were girls old enough to express desire for full time devotion to God and this was especially so if her family perceived that she was of a spiritual mind. In fact, it was one of the only places a girl child could receive an education. They were all taught to read and write at an early age, some math, music and history. There were, of course religious training: reading and reciting the holy book daily, Morning and Night Prayers and also domestic or practical training which was also called mission training. Mission training was separated into disciplines: herbal lore and apothecary, weaving, sewing, midwifery, animal husbandry, cleaning, medicinal foods and also cooking. Special disciplines were drawing, painting, accounting and fighting/weapons. Each girl was watched carefully for signs of any talent. Most eventually left and married, usually within the Aishanna-La community but sometimes they married outside of it and were often a boon to those they came to live with. Some stayed at the citadel and served this way for the rest of their lives. As it was, most women in Hybron during the age of the Twilight Kingdoms never learned to read or write so one who had a Scion in their family, whether that family was wealthy, middling class or poor, had an educated woman. This made them oddities to outsiders except to those who worshiped the sun deity, Hec._

A Scion had many avenues open to her while in citadel training but she was still under the law of her family unless she was an orphan. When an orphan became grown she had total freedom. She could become a religious historian or scholar, a scribe, an envoy or emissary for the citadel – a dangerous, perilous position - or a midwife, herbal wise woman, musician, storyteller or chronicler; many things, all to the glory of God.

Then there were the rare few who had visions. Those usually became leaders, Mothers of the citadel. In the old days some of them were known as Temple Mothers. On rare occasions some became holy judges or desert mothers; the prophetesses of old. As they always stayed in or close to desert places they were called desert mothers. The most elemental desert mothers who were filled with visions stayed in caves or huts in the remote desert but they were rare. Even desert prophets or fathers as they were called in the old days, were rare. Desert prophetesses, even more so.

All of this gained the hatred of the Ainash priesthood who thought women had no place in religious life whatever and thought that women poisoned everything they touched outside of home and hearth. They worked to rewrite the Aishanna to reflect this changed view. Some priests still had the true writings and hid them and passed these scrolls and leaves around so the knowledge was not lost among all the people. In these latter days the women of the citadel were viewed more as a charity group and a place for girls to refine themselves before marriage instead of what they were intended to be – the religious education and devotion of holy women to God in order to be able to effectively nurture and in some cases, judge the peoples of the land, along with the men who had also devoted themselves to God. The Scions viewed this role important, as it was, but they lamented the change in view. But they also knew that God worked in different ways according to the times and saw marriage as an excellent way for a woman to continue to influence her family in the way of truth. Thus, they helped spread the hope of prophecy among the Aishanna-La over the centuries and even among a few outside of the community. In later times most who stayed on were orphans, girls rescued from brothels, abandoned when they were babies or who fled from other terrible circumstances and this drew the hatred of some people. Those who dared to attack them and take a daughter or wife back whom they'd mistreated often found themselves mysteriously struck with boils or leprosy or struck down dead and among some, the name against the Scions was whispered "witches." The Scions themselves had nothing to do with witchcraft. As far as they saw it, those who did evil brought evil down on themselves and God judged and punished them appropriately.

Always, the Ainash looked for reasons to destroy the citadel. Each time they had failed and this revealed in the eyes of many common people who was approved by God and who was not. The remembrance of the common people of who had saved a laboring wife from a hard birth, a child dying from a fever or a grandparent from painful aches and the hated ailments of old age while they were viewed as dirt by the Ainash made a silent and powerful impression in the minds of the people, and not just the faithful, for the Scions served all who needed it."

It is after this time that things changed again for these women were in the prime position to foster and spearhead the education of women and girls in the kingdom and when that happened the full flowering of the kingdom – the _Renaissance_ – came into being. Such a community of only woman no longer exists among the Aishanna-La but it had its purpose for a time and it and the prophets of old that came before and after all left their marks on all humans. Divine Purpose, once again, may have been at work for what profit does a society and its culture have when half its people are not educated? What profit is there when rulership and kingship is comprised of only the strength of male qualities without the temperance of the qualities of the female? _"All things flow from the king."_ , as the saying goes and any imbalance in leadership in any way works itself down into all other aspects of society. The near perfect union of both is by God's own design and we modern peoples have seen the greatness and all the benefits of this in society today. That is the oneness that is meant, true unity in thought and purpose, the separate powers of the masculine and the feminine equally respected, utilized and valued in society. This seed-lesson began with the Reshaim, though it was imperfect and flawed through them, but through that flaw God brought about perfection in Hybronian society and taught a lesson. Society needs the intrinsically different powers of both the Man and the Woman. One is not better than the other. One is not good while the other is bad. If one is bad, both are bad because both are irrevocably tied to one another. Woman came from man and was created for him, yet there would be no human race at all without her. May we never forget this lesson.

The quoted passage from the book is also interesting for what else it reveals; how others outside of the religion viewed those that adhered to its moral precepts and those that were primarily concerned with self-interest. Interests that required the subjugation of many peoples, especially women. An important clue in the later spread and growth of the religion.

APPENDIX B

Machines and Technology

It must be said that the issue of machines and the progress of technology has always been a struggle for mankind. What have they really done for us? Do they serve any truly good purpose? The obvious answer to that is yes, but it is far more complicated than that and has served to create riots, bans and wars over their use and perceived "evil".

Over the many ages the use of technology has risen and fallen. During the first great age, that dark but proud and ultra violent age – the Age of Empires – there were some important advances made, especially in the middle of the world, in and around Hybron, that allowed for such great and massive empires to form and rise in the first place. This primitive technology, such as the wheel, water clocks, the building of bigger and better scaffolding, the craft of forging weapons from metal was immediately used to advance military might in the region and with that came wars on a previously unimaginable scale. Those empires soon disintegrated and then rose the Reshaim kingdom. Under these kings technology came to a full flowering and many good things were produced for learning, agriculture and the like. The notion of "science" or what the ancients in Hybron and in many other lands called alchemy* rose then and this study not only increased mankind's understanding of his world and the universe but his appreciation for the One that created it. For a time.

Many wondrous things came about: the study of the stars and constellations in greater detail, the making of the first primitive airships, small machines for important but menial tasks, better clocks, the rise of the Age of Iron where weapons became more powerful, the rise of metallurgy which rose with weapon making, advanced medicine and the study of the human and animal body; structure of the skeleton, muscles and the heart and brain which lead to achievements in medicine only surpassed by our modern day. Aqueducts that brought fresh water from very far away to the city, better irrigation and the like. Along with the good things came the darker uses: experiments on animals and humans for purely selfish reasons or financial gain, the idea that because of Man's achievements there was no longer any need for God or any of the gods, after all, once man un-cracked the code of the human body and the code of the universe what need he of gods? The problem is that the code is infinite and once one looks at one piece and thinks he has the answer to all, look! There is more. Much more. These dark things led many to view the old ways of worship of any religion as quaint or even foolish or backward, including moral precepts, or what we call ethics. Even before the Destruction things were not going well as anyone who has read the history of the Red Kingdom knows. All sorts of negative consequences resulted. Experiments gone awry resulted in people being engineered and enslaved for the selfish and perverted uses of others, machines used so much that they made some people lazy and others were made obsolete in their craft or work; whole economies stopped and toppled over because of this unrestrained and disrespectful use of technology and the machines it produced. The twisted metallurgy and alchemy from it led to the extreme actions of banning alchemy, metallurgy and all advanced technology and its uses altogether in the kingdom. This was a mistake in the other direction. By then Hybronian, culture fell back into a dark age. It must be noted that not all societies around the world came to this conclusion. Some societies that learned of these techniques and alchemies kept them, to some degree.

What stops this back and forth between ultra freedom and ultra-conservatism? For one side is simply a constant and knee-jerk reaction to the other and leaves a society swinging here and there without proper purpose and no rational way of looking at the root problem of all this societal lurching. One forgets balance is what is needed. One asks the question: How can the beneficial be taken or extracted from these practices and leave the detrimental behind? Ah! But that is where the moral precepts come in. One cannot abandon them just because one has "grown up" so to speak. There is wisdom in the Law and the Writings that can guide us down the path that leads not to darkness but to ever increasing progress and light, Not a meaningless, floundering progress with no Ultimate Guiding Hand, which is no progress at all, but a progress that is in accord with the Divine Purpose. One that eventually reunites the human family with the First One in absolute perfection as was meant to be from the beginning.

A Note On The Iron Age

Although it is not mentioned as much as other worldwide epochs, the Iron Age was possibly one of the most pivotal. The very redness of the planet, its very "blood" is made of iron and it is from iron that the cultures of war and glory rose around the world. The making of glass and crystal arose during this time as well, though those crafts remained for the longest time in Egi and Pallinona but iron truly ran the world. Iron making gave many a kingdom a powerful military edge and many cities and even individual merchants grew wealthy. There is a deep reverence and romance associated with that metal in mankind's history that no other has attained. Even now with starships that travel through space, deep cultural pride and the shared reverence for iron causes many a man or woman to harken back to the times of old; the warrior-glories of the past with all the sagas, legends, dirges, songs and poetry of red iron pouring forth at large family gatherings. Weapons and old forges from those ancient times are still being found in the ruins of archeological sites and many of the most intricate swords and axeheads rest in the solar system's great museums of antiquity. Besides that, the study of metallurgy in other lands developed and with that came a stronger form of iron that created stronger weapons: steel. With the use of steel in Hybron many things came together like a wave crashing down, the birth of a new king, the use of steel weapons, though it was said that the king himself used a sword made of stardust and fire, a weapon that would probably be seen as a holy relic today, which brought about his own rule and through that rule many needed changes which helped produce the conditions for the great advances we benefit from today.

*It must be noted that though alchemy refers specifically to the work of transforming other low metals into high metals it came to encompass almost any science endeavor in Hybron and is used as a general term for science.

APPENDIX C

Chialis, The Red Planet

This supplementary material has been concerned mainly with Hybron but there were, of course, many cultures across the planet and history books are still being written about them. There was much trade between the Middle World of Hybron, Ellah and Egi, and the largest of the Far Southern kingdoms: Jura, Iyaye, Tisran and Funda. In fact, many archeologists believe that these kingdoms arose and expanded roughly around the same time and during this growth there were also much warring between them before and during the Age of Empires. But there were many kingdoms in other parts of the world fighting for supremacy. To the northwestern part of the planet were the lands of the Great Ridge, that vast valley of dark green forests and rain and cold and snows in winter, one of the few places where rain fell regularly and in it grew kingdoms starkly different from the Middle Word kingdoms and the Southern Kingdoms. A few of those lands that had the most contact with the Middle World and the South are Volgur, Icyt of the far north in that place, Dyrland and Pallinona. It must be said that because of its low elevation and difficulty traveling there in the deep past and because the climate was so different the cultures there were considered "hidden kingdoms" or very mysterious places. To the far north outside of the Great Ridge are the Far Northern and Far Eastern kingdoms and lands and there was not much contact between these lands and the Middle Kingdoms until many years after the Twilight Age had ended. However, some in Hybron had dealings and contact with the nomadic tribes of the eastern steppes throughout the centuries. Sometimes this was beneficial, sometimes it was not. Occasionally, these horsemen would kidnap women and girls from villages and sometimes marry them and sometimes nomadic men from the Middle Lands would do the same. It must be noted that many people in Hybron and even to this day have the tribal steppes genetic material in them, whether they know it or not.

Chialis is far drier now than even it was back then, and the storms in the worst centuries can last for over a year and rage over nearly half the planet. Thankfully we have been raised up to the stars. The forests, lakes, rivers and oceans, though greatly diminished, are still there. The natural flora and fauna all over the world suffer; many, regrettably, are now extinct and those left are endangered. The great beasts of the deep past are long gone, for now. Even so, there has been a movement to find and preserve species genetic material from bones and preserved animal remains found near the polar ice caps and in the deep deserts, a very expensive and arduous work but necessary. Perhaps one day future generations will see a _yaryebu_ in real life! The work being done by the Royal Planetary Conservation Arch-confraternity is a great and vast work and they, within time, centuries from now, will make Chialis whole again while humans inhabit other places and explore new territory in the heavens. For now it remains a place for many to study and preserve what is left. It is very much like Elitaph in many ways – what ancient people once thought was a beautiful blue star in the heavens is now known to be another planet. However, Chialis remains unique and is a harsher mistress. For those born on it there is nothing like its fierce and stark beauty, its silver-gray seas of the north and the silver-blue waters of the south, its unique vegetation - some would say, even frightening.

I cannot end without saying something of the ancient tribal people, the forebears of all humans on Chialis. They are still with us, not only in genetic material but also physically. Most still choose to live on Chialis and often work with archeologists and scientists as guides and revered keepers of man's shared history. They know the planet best as they have always lived close to it and never left it. Divine Purpose has preserved them alive to help us preserve and revitalize our home in its hard times of the natural and necessary yet devastating cycle of climate change. In the past they endured many abuses, violence and at times misappropriation of their cultures whether they live in the middle of the world, the south, the west, the east or the north. It is a lesson to those who would try to rid themselves of "primitive" peoples or to "civilize" them. They are keepers of ancient wisdom and when Man goes too far in unhinged and unfocused unrestrained progress these are the peoples that anchor and remind us of where we came from and where we should be going. If we go too far they are there to say: "You have gone too far over here or over there and you need to come back to the traditional wisdom, to the old ways in this or that." Now we have the best of both worlds, the modern and the ancient, so that we do not become staid and unmoving and calcified but also we do not fly off into the great unknown without purpose and guidance. Such is the great lesson of living and connecting with the Red Planet. It is a teacher of peoples, for it is written: _"Chialis is the Eye of God."_

Finally, a thank you for the patience of the reader and to those who compiled all the vast histories and myriads of other reference materials used for this supplementary material. Most of this information was gleaned from the works of the Most Honorable Lady Faruma Oudem, with her permission, and that ancient and greatest of scribes Demos, who wrote the venerable book _Second Dawn of the Reshaim_ and The Third Book of the Kings of the Holy Aishanna.

**From the Author**

Notes on Origins

I first thought about writing this story years and years ago. In fact, I might as well be honest. When I was a teenager I'd read Frank Herbert's _Dune_ and like Tolkien's work, it had a major effect on me as a writer. I knew after reading it that I wanted to write an epic story, or something close to an epic. I have always been fascinated with the celestial heavens and all that is out there or might be out there. Also, I wanted to write something akin to what Tolkien wrote but I'd figured he did high epic fantasy with elves, dwarves, knights, etc. best of all and there were many others who came along after him with stories of their own in that vein. I didn't feel that I could contribute anything interesting there that wasn't already written. But an epic set on Mars? That was somewhat biblical in nature? That seemed like a interesting idea. _Dune_ was the closest thing to that. I wanted to write something like that but in my own way, naturally. Instead of spaceships and intergalactic-travel I chose Antiquity and many sources from the Bible. Of course, as Mars is a desert planet, the cultures that I chose are ones that were inspired by ancient Mesopotamian, Eastern and Northern African and southern European cultures. There is also inspiration from ancient west African kingdoms as well. Written from the point of view of a person who was born and raised in the West, obviously. So if you see things that don't quite line up with Mesopotamian or African cultures or lands, that is the reason why. What you read in this book are certainly not one on one stand-ins. Many things are not authentic; they are made up but are there to give the flavor of some ancient culture in antiquity that arose on Earth.

For this first book in the trilogy I focused on drawing inspiration from the following ancient kingdoms and empires: Babylon, Assyria, Egypt, Israel, Axum, Nubia, the Ajuraan Empire, ancient Greece and the Roman Empire. I imagined Mars as it might be or as it could have been billions of years ago if there were water flowing there and a stronger atmosphere, something very different from what we currently know of the planet. And why not? In the solar system it is virtually a twin of the earth and has fired our imaginations since ancient times. I remember as a kid seeing many astronomy shows and reading many books on what Mars and other planets would be like if we were on the surface. So I tried to do the same. I tried to imagine what human cultures might look like there? For those who actually know something about science and the planet Mars I hope you will forgive me. Like with any fantasy or science fiction work we writers sometimes take obscene liberties to tell the story. There are many things that I have chosen to overlook and say: "See here! I am imagining the planet as it could be if it could hold life!" So liberties have been taken and with great relish, I must say. As to the wedding procession of Queen Taliat? Yeah, I totally stole that from Mankiewicz's 1963 film _Cleopatra_!

But there are similarities that continue to fascinate me and the rovers there only spur the imagination. Have you seen the 360 degree video of the Martian desert from the Curiosity Rover? Wonderful! There are mountain ranges, "seas", valleys, plains, basins, polar ice caps and deserts galore, many features that Earth also has. I imagined a Martian planet nearly as varied as earth with a climate amenable to carbon-based life. Mars even has its own seasons and its own moons. Moons are another planetary body I find fascinating and Mars has two of them. I imagined the constellations must look a little different from the Martian surface as well. I came up with the name Chialis, which I thought sounded like "chalice" - a word with religious connotations. A vessel set on a pedestal and used for ceremonial purposes, something set aside as special and precious. In a way it is how I see the Earth and it is how I pictured Mars in the story.

Lastly, books like _Dune_ or _The Lord of the Rings_ aren't just long but complex. They, like another great book, the Bible, require more than one reading to really "get the sense of it". So I have taken to reading _Dune_ every summer. I find that each reading gets more nuanced. More information and new understandings that I may have missed previously come to the fore. It makes me sad that Frank Herbert is no longer with us. I've read much of his work. Who knows what other great stories he might have weaved? Even so, I am glad he gave us the _Dune_ series and I hope it continues to dazzle new young science fiction and fantasy writers coming up, like it did for me.

Notes on Constellations and the Night Sky

They were always amazing to me, the stars in the heavens. Still are. One thing I've found in my reading is that at times the sunsets on Mars are bluish looking. Usually when we think of sunsets we think warm or hot colors. So that was surprising information and I tried to match that in my writing of sunsets in the story. Also, I wondered what does the night sky look like on Mars's surface? One thing I learned was that the earth is an evening star in the Martian sky. A beautiful, blue star-like body. So I named it Elitaph in the story, an important star for sailors. I do not make much of constellations in this particular story because it is only the first book. More information may come about this in the next two books. It is something that I continue to read and learn about.

Coming in spring, 2013

Cryptic Tongues

Book Two of the _Red World_ trilogy

Check out _Edge of Darkness_ , the short story prequel to _Schisms_!

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Dedications:

Mostly, I am thankful to Frank Herbert for writing his phenomenal _Dune_ series, a foundational inspiration for this story.

Schisms

By V. A. Jeffrey

Artwork by

Ferdinand Ladera

An Epistle Publishing book

Copyright © 2012

All rights reserved.

Also by V. A. Jeffrey:

_Secret Doorway Tales_ series:

The Green Door

The Pumpkin Princess

The Winter Wolves

The Lady Moons

The Mountain King

The Battle of Dusk and Dawn

Short story collections:

Keeping Strange Time

Rainfall

Dust and Bones

The Candy Shop

Edge of Darkness

3 Fables

Poetry:

When The Sky Is Gray

Half Light

City Life

Other works:

Fairy Tales and Fables

And watch for book two of the Red World trilogy, summer, 2012:

Cryptic Tongues

and check out

the _Red World_ trilogy short story prequel:

Edge of Darkness

