The roofs of the surrounding buildings were peaked, but lacked the sharp angle Derian had seen in regions where snow was a regular occurrence and must be encouraged to slide off lest its weight collapse the building onto itself. In u-Seeheera, the slope of the roofs was more gentle. The architectural motif of each unit of buildings was maintained in the materials used for shingling and even to the pattern in which those shingles were cut and layered. Slate dominated some sections, in others tiles rounded to further channel water were the favored choice.
Down near the harbor, the buildings had a sturdy, practical appearance that mutely reminded Derian how violent hurricanes could be. The city streets sloped uphill, and where the chance of flooding was reduced, the buildings became more elaborately decorated. The brickwork trim was set in regularly repeating geometric designs. The closer they drew to the towering step pyramid, the more often animal-inspired designs began to be seen. These were not merely painted onto the brick, but molded, so that twenty or more bricks were needed to complete a design.
The creatures represented were not always ones Derian recognized, though there were the familiar, if stylized, forms of horses, dogs, snakes, and large cats. Fanciful renditions of many of these same animals, but with wings or strangely patterned coats, were also depicted. Once Derian would have dismissed these monsters as whimsy—creatures from Old Country tales told to amuse children on cold winter nights. Now he had seen too much to do so, and he found himself wondering if there really were creatures with human heads, the bodies of bulls, and the wings of eagles.
From the way Barnet was looking around, Derian guessed that the other man had not come so far into the city on his earlier visit. Barnet confirmed his guess.
"Last time they kept us in one of the buildings down by the harbor. We were treated well, even had a nice interior courtyard in which we could take the air, but our hosts seemed eager not to expose us to the bulk of the population."
"Like now," Derian said, dropping his voice, though he really didn't care if anyone overheard. "I've been looking, but unless the locals can look out the windows without being seen, we might as well be marching along the bottom of the ocean for all we're being noticed."
"Less so," Barnet agreed. "I'd guess on the seabottom the fish might drop down to take a look."
"Is it just that by local standards we're weird-looking and they don't want to start a riot?" Derian asked.
"I don't think so," Barnet replied. "The sailors on Fayonejunjal didn't seem unduly impressed or frightened by our differences. They seemed to feel superior rather than otherwise, especially when they learned how easily some of us sunburn."
Then I guess we're a state secret of some sort, Derian thought, but he didn't say it aloud. He figured Barnet was along to continue as a language teacher, more for Harjeedian than for Derian. They were reaching the point where Derian would need a local to help him along. Barnet was still ahead of him, but the minstrel often needed to ask Harjeedian to explain why some part of speech worked the way it did.
However, there was another possible reason Barnet had been included in their party—as a spy. His easygoing manner and affability made it easy to confide in him, but Derian hadn't forgotten that Barnet had gathered much of the information that had been used to capture them. The minstrel might be doing a related job now, except his goal would be to keep them from escaping without warning.
Unaccustomed as their time at sea had made him to walking long distances, Derian was beginning to regret not letting himself be carried to his destination, even if the conveyance in question would have been a cage, when he heard a soft gasp of wonder from Firekeeper.
He looked up—for a long while now his gaze had been on his own plodding boot toes—and saw that they had reached the end of the road. "Culmination" might be a better word. Derian knew without explanation that this entire grand progression was meant to inspire just such a gasp of wonder.
Before them stood a towering gate, the midpoint between walls that swept away side to side, their upper edge shaped to evoke the rise and fall of ocean waves. The walls were made of bricks glazed a shining blue-green, but the gate was a brilliant golden yellow. Something glittery—mica fragments, Derian thought—had been set in the glaze, so that the bricks sparkled. They must be magnificent at sunrise. Even now, at midday, the effect was remarkable.
Both gate and walls were set with molded designs. Those on the walls showed sea creatures, both fanciful and real. The gate depicted animals, but here Derian noticed a marked difference. Every animal represented was real. There were peculiar shades and textures to coats, but in no instance did he see wings on a creature that shouldn't have them, or that unsettling melding of human and animal characteristics.
"This," Harjeedian said with what Derian felt was perfectly excusable pride, "is Heeranenahalm, the City of Temples. It is where the elect live, and the deities are honored. Walk with respect, for many of even our own citizens are restricted from coming here except for special feasts."
Derian glanced at Firekeeper.
"Got that?" he asked.
Firekeeper nodded with more solemnity than he expected.
"This is a formal dress place," she said.
Harjeedian led them through the gate into a plaza walled with buildings several stories high. Crossing the plaza, he turned left. The walls surrounding them might have been oppressive but for the omnipresent greenery and the width of the road. Again Derian was made strongly aware of the planning that had gone into this city.
Harjeedian was setting a rapid enough pace that Derian couldn't look around as much as he'd like, but he had the impression of more gleaming bricks and even more incredible flowers. Unlike along the road through the city, here he saw they were watched, but the watchers looked out from over walls or from balconies, and made no sound or comment. The uniform silence was more disturbing than any shouting or jeering could have been, and soon Derian focused his eyes directly in front of him rather than risk catching someone's gaze.
Their escort stopped before a building made from bricks glazed an unnaturally bright and shining green. Harjeedian motioned for them to wait, and went forward to a gate trimmed in golden yellow. He said something in his own language and received a measured reply. Then he spoke again.
This had to be ritual of some sort, Derian decided. There was no way they weren't expected. He wondered that they hadn't been cleaned up more, then wondered if the contrast of their own workday grubbiness was meant to make them feel humbled. Well, he'd lived several moonspans in Dragon's Breath, the capital of New Kelvin, and though u-Seeheera was impressive, he was beyond being awed by tall buildings and intricate architecture.
Barnet looked a bit pale, though, and Derian felt a completely unkind surge of satisfaction. It was good to know the Islander wasn't always on top of the situation.
Stepping back a pace and craning his neck, Derian looked around with assumed nonchalance. He guessed that this green wall was not part of a building, but rather the wall of a compound of related buildings. A smaller step pyramid rose from the center of the complex, its apex topped with a statue of a coiled snake, mouth gaping and ready to strike. The exterior walls continued this serpentine motif. The arched doorway, in which Harjeedian stood conversing with several men dressed much like himself, was carved in the shape of a large snake, coiled around and holding its tail in its mouth.
The carved snake atop the pyramid looked slightly cross-eyed, and Derian had to fight back what he was certain was a very unwise urge to laugh. Firekeeper seemed to have no such impulse. Indeed, her dark eyes were wide and unguardedly frightened as she inspected what was obviously their destination.
"This place smell of poison," she said. "We no go in?"
She spoke not as one who plans to defy, but as one who knows that defiance is not an option and hopes against hope that what one dreads will not happen.
"I think this is our destination," Derian said, putting a hand on her arm. "You won't cause trouble, will you?"
Chapter VI
For all the ceremony at the gateway between Harjeedian and the ones who stood within, the three captives and their escort passed into the compound with hardly any recognition at all of their coming.
"You will be greeted by all the great teachers," Harjeedian said, "at one time and in one place. For now you are to wash and rest, and pray to whomever you make offerings. So it is said."
Firekeeper noticed a new rhythm had entered Harjeedian's speech, and the strange, precise accent with which he spoke his excellent Pellish had become stronger.
She also sensed he was a bit miffed.
"So the welcome by his Ones did not happen as he dreamed," she said to Blind Seer. "I wish my ears were more keen."
"Mine are sharp enough" the wolf boasted, as was his way. Modesty was not considered a virtue among the wolves. "But though I have been studying this new language as have you, I did not understand enough to account for his unhappiness. All I could gather was that Harjeedian's teachers were not having things their own way and that student shared his masters' unhappiness."
Firekeeper thought about this.
"I noticed that after we passed through the golden gate we passed other compounds like this one. I wonder if each one houses a hive of these teachers. It would explain much. We are but one flower, and they are many bees."
"Many bees and many hives," Blind Seer agreed, "though this hive into which Harjeedian has taken us has about it the reek of a nest of snakes rather than honey."
Firekeeper nodded her agreement.
Unspeaking, Harjeedian led them through a maze of cool shaded walkways to a twisted, wrought-iron gate. Harjeedian unlocked the gate, waving them before him into a flower- and vine-adorned courtyard. There was a small pool at the courtyard's center. Alongside the pool were a low table and several chairs. Flowering plants grew both from the soil and from ornate, mosaic-adorned pots, perfuming the air so heavily that Blind Seer sneezed.
The back edge of the courtyard was flanked with two arched doorways. These proved to lead into large rooms with cool, tiled floors, furnished with heavy pieces worked from intricately carved wood: beds, clothes chests, and tables overhung with framed mirrors. The beds were covered with embroidered quilts that seemed too heavy for the warm air, and overhung with fine mesh nets.
Harjeedian turned to the three.
"Here is where you will stay," he said. "Decide how you will divide up the sleeping rooms as best suits you."
He turned to Firekeeper and looked at her very sternly.
"Your parole does not give you leave to roam outside of this courtyard and these rooms. Do you understand?"
Firekeeper nodded, amused and pleased by the care Harjeedian took to set her limits. It spoke of respect for her cleverness.
"Food will be brought to you," Harjeedian went on more generally, "and drink, and a change of clothing."
With that, he hurried away, and they were left to contemplate their new situation.
Blind Seer padded over to the pool and drank deeply. He raised his head and sneezed, backing away from the water, shaking as if he were wet all over.
"What's with him?" Derian asked. "Get a fish up his nose?"
The pool was home to many small, brightly scaled carp, but these were not the source of the wolf's distress. Blind Seer sneezed again, and Firekeeper crossed and knelt beside him.
"Beware the pool, sweet Firekeeper" the wolf said. "The water is not as fresh as its sparkle seems to show—though I have drank worse without becoming ill. Snakes lair within its waters."
Firekeeper leaned over the water to inspect the edges of the pool and saw several sleek greenish black forms coiled about the rocks and water plants. One had half consumed a small fish, and the carcass hung from its gaping mouth. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and looked at Derian and Barnet.
"Snakes in the pool," she said. "Water is tainted."
Derian gagged. "And to think I was considering taking a dip. I hope they bring us wash water along with the fresh clothing."
As if in reply, a clanking sound announced the iron gate being opened. A young woman stepped through, holding the gate open while dropping a key back into the folds of her blouse. She was clad in a similar fashion to Harjeedian's formal attire—though without demonstrating his obsession with snakes and lacking the conical hat. Her skin was the color of toasted bread, and the hair that fell past the middle of her back was the precise shade of wet ink. There was something of wet ink as well in her hair's silkiness, and in the liquid way it fell from the loose clip that gathered it at the nape of her neck.
The young woman smiled shyly at them, and in that smile Firekeeper recognized something of Harjeedian, but a younger Harjeedian, gentler and more curious. The same high cheekbones that distorted his face and made his eyes seem slitted were as elegant as sculpture on her, and the same brown eyes were warm and inquisitive.
Firekeeper heard twin intakes of breath from Derian and Barnet and knew that what she guessed was indeed true. This was a young woman of surpassing beauty.
Clapping her hands twice in a signal that Firekeeper already knew from shipboard meant "come," the young woman motioned to some who stood outside the gate. Three large men answered her command. They were all simply clad in loose breeches and smocks, and had the air of servants about them. One wheeled a cart on which was a metal container that radiated much heat. One carried a tray on which was an array of good-smelling food. The last carried a tightly woven basket.
The tray of food was set on the low table near the pool before the servant hurried away, his hard-soled sandals tapping on the bricks of the courtyard floor. The man with the cart wheeled his burden into the nearest of the sleeping rooms. He exited empty-handed, said something to the woman, and hurried away. The third man paused, indecisive, and asked a question of the woman.
Firekeeper caught a few words of what he said, and wasn't at all surprised when Barnet turned to ask her, "Which room do you two want, or do you plan to sleep out here with the snakes?"
Normally, Firekeeper would have declined the offer of a sleeping chamber, but the snakes made her reconsider. She didn't think these snakes were poisonous, but snakes were known to nestle near any source of warmth, and the idea of waking to find one of the pool dwellers wrapped around her in the same fashion that Harjeedian carried his pets was unpleasant.
She recalled that one of the rooms had held a single large bed, the other two smaller ones.
"I take room with one bed," she said.
Barnet relayed this information, and the man with the basket went first into Firekeeper's chosen room, then into the other. When he returned, he carried the basket as if it was much lighter and Firekeeper guessed that it had been his task to deliver fresh clothing.
Meanwhile the young woman motioned them toward the tray of food.
"Eat," she said in her own language. "It is very good."
Firekeeper was hungry, but what she'd tasted of local cooking on the ship hadn't pleased her. The Liglimom had a liking for heavily flavored sauces that seemed to serve mostly to hide when the food underneath was near spoiling.
To her pleasure, she saw that among the sauced dishes there was also a selection of clean grilled meats and lightly cooked vegetables quite suited to her tastes. For Blind Seer, the tray carrier returned a moment later with a haunch of some type of deer, raw and butchered no later than that morning.
"I am Rahniseeta," the woman said, still in her own language, but speaking very carefully. "I am Harjeedian's sister, and will assist him in making you welcome."
Derian was looking very stiff and awkward and couldn't seem to find his voice. Barnet was not so discommoded, but smiled warmly, awakening an answering smile from Rahniseeta.
"Thank you," Barnet said in Liglimosh. "We are grateful."
Rahniseeta sank gracefully onto one of the low chairs placed n
ear the table and picked up a metal pitcher that was sweating from the coolness of whatever was inside.
"This is a fruit drink," she said. "Very good. This," she lifted another pitcher, "is fresh water."
Firekeeper reached for the water. No bowl had been put on the tray for Blind Seer, so she supplied one by pouring apricots out onto the food tray. Then she set the bowl on the brick floor of the courtyard and filled it with water.
Rahniseeta watched without either comment or complaint. When Firekeeper set the water pitcher back on the tray, she said, "We remembered food for your companion, but thought he would drink from the pool."
Firekeeper struggled to answer in Liglimosh.
"It taste like snake shit," she managed. She knew when she saw Derian color that she was using cruder language than was proper, but the sailors' terms she had heard dozens of times a day came more readily to mind.
Rahniseeta nodded.
"How do you know this?"
Firekeeper answered guardedly, not certain whether or not she was being insulted.
"He not like."
Rahniseeta's grin was unguarded and friendly.
"I would not care to drink tainted water either. You will be pleased to know that your bathwater is not taken from this pool or any like it. Hot water has been brought. Cool is being brought, along with a tub."
Derian found his voice for two words.
"Thank you."
Rahniseeta robbed him of his voice with another of her smiles before continuing.
"There are baths here in the compound with running water, both hot and cold, but we thought you would like privacy."
Firekeeper said to Blind Seer, "And to let us go there and bathe would make it difficult to keep us in hiding."
Blind Seer laughed, beating his tail on the floor. His powerful jaws cracked the deer bone at its thickest point and he grunted in satisfaction as he licked out the marrow. Firekeeper noticed with some satisfaction that Rahniseeta was impressed.
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