Fires of Mastery (The Tale of Azaran Book 3)

by Zackery Arbela

  At the far end was a tall statue of Sagosh the Thunderer, seated on his throne, the Mansion carved on the wall behind him. Sagosh here was a tall, muscular man with his hair shaved along the front and back of his head, leaving a narrow strip running along the center from each to ear, which was raised up into tall spikes rising form the head like a the rays of the sun. In one hand he held a large sword whose blade was shaped like a thunderbolt, while his other arm was raised in a sign of greeting. Seated below him were smaller statues representing the various other gods subject to the great one. An altar was set on the below, with a line or chanting priests standing behind, their hair shaved and spiked to match their of their god, while a senior member of their order, naked to the waist and wearing nothing but a dark blue loincloth, his body marked by tattooed lines of script, methodically cut the throat of a bleating ram, an assistant gutting the beast and hurling the intestines and internal organs onto a smoking brazier.

  Most of the worshipers in the temple were locals, but there were a number of foreigners as well. Some were residents of the city who had taken to the worship of its gods, others visitors seeking the favor of Sagosh while they were in his city. Segovac looked up at the face of the Thunderer and bowed his head slightly in respect.

  "I have heard a Rhennari of the north was in Kedaj." A man spoke beside him, a priest of Sagosh. Like his fellows, his hair was shaved and spiked, he wore a plain breech clout, and the lines of text tattooed on his torso were at least double that of the man officiating at the sacrifice.

  Segovac glanced at the fellow. Somewhere in his fifth decade, the hair on his head visible streaked with lines of silver. One eye shone with a greenish gleam and it took Segovac a moment to realize it was not an eye but an emerald affixed in his socket.

  "An tragedy of a misspent youth," said the man. "Too much wine, too many daggers in the wrong place at the wrong time. I lost an eye, but as compensation Sagosh gifted me with some wisdom."

  "A worthy exchange. Is it this wisdom that tells you who I am?"

  "It depends. Am I right?"

  "Yes. But I am not the first Rhennari to visit the cities of the south."

  "You are the first to come here in twenty years. That makes you unusual, at least here in Kedaj."

  "Not just in Kedaj," Segovac said with a wry smile. "I am called Segovac.."

  "I know," said the priest. "My lord Shapurashi has spoken of you. I am Nashurensi, high priest of Sagosh."

  Segovac frowned. "You are the high priest?"

  "Were you expecting golden robes and a big belly?"

  "To be honest, yes."

  "All men are equal in the eyes of Sagosh," said the priest. "To put on fine clothes and golden crowns to raise yourself to the same status as the gods, though the temples of other gods indulge in such frippery. Such arrogance brings terrible costs, as this city is discovering."

  Nashurensi turned away from the sacrifice. "Follow me. Too many eyes are watching."

  They crossed the Holy Hall, exiting through a side door, passing through a number of side chambers before emerging outside in a small courtyard on the eastern end of the temple. A large awning extended out from the wall, providing a measure of shade. Half a dozen men stood there, richly dressed and talking softly with one another. A small table stood nearby, on which was placed a small pitcher of water and a few clay cups. The men glanced at Segovac, but said nothing. A few muttered greetings to Nashurensi.

  "The great and good of Kedaj," said the high priest in a low voice. "At least, that part of it which has reason to hate the King. Ostensibly they are here to give honor and praise to the god."

  A cup of water was thrust into Segovac's hand. Nashurensi left without a word. The Kedaji lords looked on him, clearly curious at his presence, yet none seemed willing to make the first move. Segovac for his part was willing to wait. He drank his water.

  He did not have to wait long. Nashurensi reappeared, and which him was Shapurashi. The other men in the courtyard quickly gathered around him, offering praises and greetings, which he returned in kind. He then approached Segovac. "Thank you for coming."

  "Of course," Segovac replied. "Though it would be helpful to know why I am here."

  "All will be made clear in a moment. We await one last guest...and here he is!"

  A man entered the courtyard. He wore a simple gray tunic and brown cloak, but carried himself like a warrior. "My lord," he said, bowing before Shapurashi.

  "Hatugali." Shapurashi addressed him by name. "You are not missed at the palace?"

  "No one will begrudge a humble soldier giving praise and honor to the gods, since we have more need of their favor than most." Hatugali chuckled at that. "The King holds a feast tonight. I must return before sundown, or it will be noted."

  "This won't take long. My lords!"

  Shapurashi called their attention. He then nodded at Nashurensi, who addressed them all.

  "Heaven will smile upon this gathering," said the high priest. "For on this day will Kedaj, the city of Sagosh, will be brought back into his good graces. You have seen the decline of our city, my friends. For two decades we have walked a road to ruin. The land is destroyed by drought. Our people pollute themselves with the Tears and other vile substances! They debase their bodies with foul pleasures once only embraced by the degenerate few. Sons murder their fathers, brothers violate their sisters, mothers sell their daughters. Our women have become whores, our men weaklings and in all lands the name of our city has become synonymous with wickedness. Even now the gods turn their eyes from us, for we have turned from their ways. Unless we return to righteousness, they shall cast Kedaj beyond their protection. Demons shall rise up from the darkness to consume us all."

  The men nodded at this, their faces grim. Nashurensi met their gazes. "You know I am right. This city was founded by a son of Sagosh, who placed the stones of its walls with his blessed hands. Now the name of the Thunderer is blasphemed in our streets. The man who sits in the palace, on the throne one held by those who claimed descent from the god, he is a monster in human form! He sells our people into slavery, he drives them to perversion for his own amusement. The end is close at hand, my friends. Unless we act now."

  The priest stepped aside at that point. Shapurashi took over. "You know who I am," he said to the other men. "You know my family, as I know yours. When Enmer-Galila killed his way to the throne, my father was among those who stood against him, and for that died at the end of an assassins blade. In the years that followed, others who once opposed the King made their peace with him, but not I. Enmer-Galila took our wealth and lands to ruin us, but I rebuilt our fortunes. Three times have his assassins come for my life. Three times they have failed, though not at personal cost. Three scars do I bear on my body. My only son was murdered before my eyes. My wife died from grief and before she passed on to the gods, made me swear an oath of vengeance. You all know this, and I repeat only to remind you of the injustices you have suffered at the hands of Enmer-Galila. To remind you that once this city was different place. That once we could call ourselves men of Kedaj with pride. Now it is a mark of shame. Nashurensi is right, now is the time to strike."

  "That's been said before," said one of the men. "I was there ten years ago, with Agash-Pel. We all remember how that ended, with the chief conspirators hanging heels high at the city gates."

  Shapurashi nodded. "A valid question. To answer that, let us turn to the man who broke that conspiracy. He stands here with us today. Hatugali?"

  All eyes turned to the captain of the palace guard. They looked on him with suspicion. He was the strong whip hand of Enmer-Galila, the sword that struck down the Kings enemies. They feared him as they feared death. Now he stood before them, one of their number.

  Hatugali was not one for speeches. "Enmer-Galila is weak," he said bluntly. "He is drunk nine hours out of ten. He insults the great and mighty of his court to their faces, while their fellows watch. His son openly quarrels with Lugalzaeer and only two days ago he exiled both from his
presence. His heir and his strongest ally, driven from the Kings presence like a pair of dogs. Without them, he has only the Palace guard to protect him...and they obey me."

  "But why should we trust you?" asked one of the men. "You serve the King. All Kedaj knows of your loyalty to him. His enemies are your enemies. Why betray him now? Do you really expect us to believe you?"

  Yes," Hatugali responded. "I was loyal to him because it was in my interest. For twenty years, he offered me more than any man. Wealth, power, women...all came to me from his hands. Those who sought to overthrow him, like your friend Agash-Pel, they could not give me half as much. But now he is weak. He will fall, and when he does, I will fall with him."

  "Unless you betray him," said another of the men. "Bah! You sell your honor like a fishmonger at market!'

  "All men sell themselves," said Hatugali with a sneer. "Some try to cloak it behind fine words and high ideals. But we are all whores in the end. I just choose to be honest about it."

  "Enough!" Shapurashi ended the argument. "Hatugali's reasons for joining us are his own, but in end he is still with us." He looked Hatugali in the eye. "And he knows that should he betray us, there is no place this side of Hell he can hide from my vengeance. Isn't that right, Captain?"

  Hatugali shrugged. "Once I am bought," he said, "I stay bought. And right now there is no one who can offer me more than you."

  "We are not alone in this," said Shapurashi. "The priests of Sagosh stand with us, as do two of the three admirals of the fleet."

  "Who is the hold out?" asked one of the other conspirators.

  "Parbazenner. But he is an old man, and a coward. He will not resist. And we have something else. A man who can see the future."

  Now all eyes turned to Segovac. "Him?" asked one of the men. "A barbarian?"

  "A Rhennari from the north." Nashurensi spoke up. "The god they serve gives them powers of divination..."

  "Which I have tested," said Shapurashi. "He see's true. I vouch for him, as does Shuaraensi, who you all know to be a man whose word is impeccable."

  The other men looked at one another. Some nodded others shrugged. "What do you propose?" asked one of them.

  "That our friend Segovac call upon his power, here and now. If he foretells success, you will swear an oath to Sagosh that you follow me to the end. We will raise the city in revolt, hurl Enmer-Galila from the throne and into Hell..."

  "And raise you in his stead?" said a conspirator. "Why you?"

  "I have a claim, stronger than anyone else, stronger than Enmer-Galila's even," Shapurashi answered. "I have prospered in the face of his hate, which shows my acumen. I have aided you all in times of hardship and asked for nothing in return. I can lead this city...no. I can save it, from its enemies and most of all, from itself."

  "If Shapurashi comes to the throne," said Nashurensi, "Sagosh will bless him and any who stands by him."

  "This is the time," said Hatugali. "He is vulnerable. You will never have a better chance."

  The men looked at each other. One by one they nodded.

  "So be it." Shapurashi turned to Segovac. "Call upon your god, my friend. And tell me if we shall know victory."

  Saerec is not your servant, Segovac wanted to shout back. But instead he asked, "What of my friend, Azaran? Do not forget why I am here."

  Shapurashi glanced at Hatugali, who said, "Azaran is alive, if that is what you are asking. He has been placed under the care of Zeyaana, the Kings daughter."

  Murmurs arose at that, men looking grim at the news. "I take it that is not a good thing?" Segovac asked.

  "Zeyaana is...different." Hatugali struggled to finds the words. “Until a few months ago, she was nothing, another woman of the harem, bound to wed whichever lord the King her father chose. But now she is a power in her own right. Half the court is held fast in her hand, while the other half is afraid to speak against her."

  "Some say she is a witch," said one of the conspirators. "That she bound her soul to vile demons of the underworld, that she sacrifices noble-born infants in bloody rituals. In return, her infernal masters give her the power to control the minds of men. Even the King cannot resist her, she but smiles and Enmer-Galila dances to her tune like a trained monkey."

  "Another mark of his weakness," said Hatugali.

  Segovac rubbed side of his temple. "This all sounds depressingly familiar. Is he in any danger?"

  "For now...no. But Zeyaana does not keep him on her leash for mere pleasure. She has a purpose in mind and it will not be to his benefit, I can assure you."

  "The only way to free your friend," said Sahourashi, "is to pull down Enmer-Galila and every one of the swine infesting his court. But we cannot move unless we are certain of victory."

  Segovac nodded. "Very well. Clear a space."

  The men pulled back. Segovac knelt down on the ground, glancing over at Nashurensi. "This ground belongs to your god," he said. "Saerec will not trespass on the sanctuary of Sagosh."

  "In the cause of freeing his city," Nashurensi answered, "Sagosh welcomes the god of your people into his sacred ground. Do what you must."

  Segovac closed his eyes and began the Chant. There was no stick in his hand, no dust on which to draw the spiral. In truth, they were not actually needed, mere focii for the mind, a way to clear random thoughts that might distract him from the Divine. He concentrated, reached out to his god.

  Saerec ! Shaper of Fate!

  Your sons place their trust in you...

  The vision, when it came, was sharp to his eyes. A great mountain of stone, wreathed in flame, which he recognized as the pyramid of the royal palace. Skulls placed around the base, cracked and crumbling even as he watched, flesh and bone turning to dust and them to nothingness. The stench of death was in the air. No good would come of this.

  Atop one of the skulls, a crown of gold. He reached out to touch it and the crown fell to the ground and shattered like glass. Great cries rose up, shouts of victory that seemed more beast than man. Victory...but at a price.

  He looked up at the sky. Where the Mansion should have been was a great blue spiral, carved on the very heavens. He sensed the presence within it, a mind beyond time, the Shaper of All Things, looking down on him.

  Soon. The voice shook the foundations of existence and everything around him shattered into pieces. He fell into darkness, but he was not afraid, for the Spiral of the One was above, a promise to all mankind. Soon, my friend. But not just yet...

  Segovac opened his eyes. There was a wide space around him, Shapurashi and the other conspirators pressed back against the walls if the courtyard, their eyes wide with shock. He looked down and saw the glowing spiral etched into the stone floor, fading away before his eyes. A powerful vision, to leave such a marker behind.

  He looked up at Nashurensi. The High Priest of Sagosh bowed to him, hand on his chest. "Honor and praise to the god of the north," he said, one holy man to another.

  "Honor and praise to Sagosh of Kedaj," Segovac answered, rising stiffly to his feet, his knees aching.

  Shapurashi cleared his throat. "You were down there for a while," he said. "What did you see?"

  "Violence," Segovac answer. "Death. Fire. A broken crown before the skulls of the fallen. There will be victory...but at a great price."

  "But there will be victory," said Shapurashi. "Yes."

  Segovac nodded, feeling very tired. "Yes. At great cost."

  "Our victory?" asked one of the conspirators.

  "That," Segovac answered, "lies in your hands. Victory is promised to someone. If it would be you, then you must seize it by your own hands. Saerec foretells the opportunity, what you make of it is up to you."

  The men looked at each other. "That is enough for me," said the man who asked the question.

  "And me," said another. "I am with you, Shapurashi. Where you lead, I shall follow."

  "And I," said another."

  "And I."

  "And I!"

  One by one they all made their pledge. At
the end Nashurensi gave blessing over them all. Shapurashi gave his orders, men leaving the temple to other parts of the city, carrying the spark of revolt. Shapurashi himself was the last to leave, headed not to his house but to the harbor, where a meeting with the Admirals of the fleet beckoned.

  "Stay here," he told Segovac. "I may have need of your abilities in the days to come. Things will be chaotic and you can help me find order in it."

  "As Saerec will, I will help you," was his answer.

  "Good. And when it is done, your friend shall be free. My word, as the man who will be King of Kedaj."

  The priests found him a room. Of necessity it was a small, mean chamber in the part of the temple outsiders never went. But it suited Segovac's mood quite well. A simple meal was provided, along with a pitcher of water to wash it down. Then Sagosh's priests left him alone.

  He sat down on the simple stood that was one of the few pieces of furniture in, staring at the wall but really staring within.

  Why am I here? Not for the first time, he asked himself this question. Oh, he knew why he had come here, oaths sworn and all that. But deep down he wondered what any of that was truly worth.

  Eburrea was free. Its surviving Rhennari were returning to rebuild their order. Its new King considered him a friend and was in need of his counsel. My place is to the north, with my own kin.

  So again, why was he here? Twenty years of tyranny had left their mark in his homeland. The profanities of Brannegaia and her Ghelenai left the Eburreans adrift, cut off from their traditions, the folkways and beliefs that bound his people together. By rights he should have never crossed the sea. He was needed elsewhere.