She thought for a few seconds. “The Oracle told me that I don’t belong here, that I was supposed to go to Earth, and then it said I needed to find my companion because I can’t go alone. Well, the only companion I’ve had is D’Molay. He’s the first person I traveled with, so I guess I need to find him. Then we have to go to Earth. But I don’t know why. I don’t know anything about Earth!”
Kafele trusted there was no error in the Oracle’s prophecy. Whatever prediction it gave would surely come to be. But the ignorant could be easily delayed from meeting their destiny when seeds of doubt were planted. “I’m not sure D’Molay can go to Earth, Aavi, even if he wanted to. Sometimes he is busy for months or years on end doing a mission. Finding him won’t be as easy as just going over to his home and knocking on the door.”
As Kafele spoke, Aavi noticed his heart glow. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. It was mixed. She could tell Kafele had good feelings towards her, but there was another, deeper blue color mixed in. Beyond that she saw something dark and red that felt like . . . fear? She wondered why he would be afraid. Suddenly she felt a slight grip on her arm that shook her mind back to the carriage.
“Aavi? Did you hear me?” Kafele asked as he gently shook her arm. He looked genuinely concerned.
“I - I’m sorry. I was just thinking,” she answered. Aavi stared at Kafele again. “So you don’t know where D’Molay is?” she asked, unsure that he was telling her the truth now. She subconsciously shifted away from him, though there was little room in the moving carriage to get too far away.
Kafele took an appraising look at her and tried to sound reassuring. “No, Aavi, I don’t know where he is, but I’m sure there’s some way to find him.” He could tell by the look on her face that something he said had scared her in some way.
“What’s to become of me, Kafele? What are you going to do with me?” she asked in a pleading and confused voice. Aavi curled up with her legs bent up to her chin, and her arms wrapped around them. Her face disappeared behind her knees. Only her luminous eyes stared back at him waiting for an answer. She looked like a timid owl sitting on the seat across from him. If it weren’t for the fact that he could tell she was worried and suspicious, he would have been laughing at her. Instead, he tried to make his amusement part of his answer.
Kafele tried to chuckle jovially as he repeated her question, “What’s to become of you? Why I’m sure you’ll be fine. We’ll go back to my home, you can freshen up, get something to eat and then perhaps rest a bit. Then we can look for D’Molay tomorrow and see if there is anything else we can do about your missing memories. You want them back, don’t you?” he asked, knowing full well what her answer would be.
Aavi looked back at him, hope beginning to rise in her again. “Really, we can do all that?” she said naively.
“Of course. Everything will be fine, Aavi. We’re almost there.” Kafele smiled and pointed out the carriage window. “See the large pyramid? I live there.”
“Py-ra-mid? Which place is that?” she asked, now excitedly looking out the window. She could see several temples and buildings nearby but didn’t really know what a ‘py-ra-mid’ was supposed to look like.
“Ah, I forget - it’s that one, the big triangle” he said, extending his hand through the window and pointing at the Egyptos pyramid looming up before them.
Aavi eyed the magnificent pyramid. It was a huge, and looked like a yellow-orange mountain sitting against the pale blue sky. An elaborately decorated white wall with a large gate surrounded it. The place was much larger than the slave auction building of the High Sulgi, and there were many more guards protecting it.
Kafele leaned back in his seat, put his hands behind his head, and breathed out a sigh of relief. Everything was going as he hoped it would.
The carriage stopped at the gate and a guard looked in its window. He had dark, shoulder length hair arranged in braids and wore a large metal collar marked with hieroglyphs. “Who wishes to enter the temple of Egyptos?” he asked.
“Kafele of Babedh-Dhra. You know I live here,” he answered confidently.
The guard bowed his head slightly. “Ah yes, the Healer. Let them pass,” he called to the gatekeeper. He stepped away from the carriage, the coachman flicked the reins, and it rolled forward. As it moved into the large courtyard, Aavi looked out the window at the huge pyramid and the city beyond it. She wondered if she would ever see D’Molay again. Did he even miss her while he was having exciting adventures? Aavi wondered if he even remembered her. She would never forget him.
“When we get out, pretend you are my slave,” Kafele instructed Aavi. “That way we won’t have to explain who you are to those who have no business knowing.”
The ornate carriage came to a halt and several attendants came to aid its occupants. A bald Egyptian servant opened the carriage door and Kafele stepped out, leading Aavi by her neck chain. She stepped down from the carriage and took a look at her surroundings. The high stone columns and large sandstone statues of Egyptian gods were imposing and ostentatious. Aavi had no idea who the statues represented, but many of them had animal faces, tails and wings. This reminded her of the High Sulgi. Each statue was about twenty feet tall and they seemed to surround the pyramid in a circle on all sides. “There must be a hundred of them,” she said out loud.
Kafele looked back at her as he led her toward the grand entrance. “Actually, there are 360 of them, one for each god in the Egyptian pantheon. Come along, there’s much more to see.”
They walked down the huge granite-floored hallway, past gleaming polished columns with gods and golden writing painted on each one. As they walked, Kafele’s footsteps echoed off the wall and her own bare feet made a pattering sound as she kept up with him. Aavi stopped at one of the columns and stared at it, intensely curious. She had never seen this kind of writing before, and yet there were shapes that she recognized. She picked out birds, people, and snakes. “How do you read this, Kafele? What does it say?”
He gathered up her chain as he took a step or two back to the column. “This part says ‘Nut senem urt s-uab-ees Ou.’ It means Nut, the fashioner great, she purify thee, O Pepi. Nut is a great goddess. She is the guardian of the night sky.”
“Oh,” Aavi replied, still not completely sure what that meant.
“You’ll see many dedications to the gods here, Aavi. We Egyptians honor our masters. I have been pledged to the god Set since I was a child. In fact, you owe Set a great debt of gratitude. If he had not been willing to give me all that gold, you would not be here now.” He turned to move, giving the chain a very gentle tug.
After crossing more hallways, great rooms and lobbies, each more detailed and beautiful than the last, they came to an open courtyard about five stories tall. Lush plants ringed a stone-ringed pool filled with golden fish. Kafele stood by the pond a bit impatiently as Aavi lagged to peer at the fish. To get her moving again, Kafele pointed up at a deep blue door on the third floor. “Come see where I live. Up there.”
A moment later, they had walked up the stairs and Kafele unlocked the blue door. His home consisted of a series of connected rooms, each separated by a rounded arch. Many of the arches had burgundy fabric curtains hanging down in front of them to provide some privacy between the rooms. There was a kitchen with a brick hearth for cooking, a large main room with a couch and many pillows and short tables, a bedroom, and an office, with a desk and shelves for medical books and scrolls. Each room was meticulously tidy and clean. Everything looked like it was all placed quite purposely. The door through which they entered was the only way in or out.
Kafele gave Aavi a full tour of his home and they ended up back in the main room again. “Do you mind if I just lie down here, Kafele?” Aavi said, looking longingly at the couch. The day’s excitement, the long walk, and lack of food had finally taken their toll. She half collapsed onto the soft-cushions.
“That’s fine, but don’t fall asleep yet, Aavi. You need to eat and drink first.” Kafele left her. In a fe
w moments he returned, pausing in the kitchen archway holding a wooden tray bearing bread, fruits, cheeses, and drinks. He saw her lying on the couch, motionless. “You are a sight to behold, so like your brethren,” he whispered to himself.
He placed the tray on the short alabaster table near the couch and then sat down next to Aavi, his medical training automatically kicking in as he gently tried to wake her. “Aavi? Come on, wake up. You need to eat.” Aavi slowly opened her eyes and saw Kafele gazing down at her. “Here, drink this.” Kafele handed her a glass of sweetened water. She took the glass and looked shyly around the room. She was still wary every time she woke up, for on most occasions she seemed to arise somewhere different or meet someone different than when she had closed her eyes. Kafele then took the glass away and offered Aavi a piece of bread with some cheese on it. “Now, eat something if you can. There’s more on the tray. You can eat without help?” Kafele asked her somewhat sarcastically.
“Yes, I’ve figured how to eat most things now,” she said with some small pride as she chewed on some bread. “Oh, I like this!” she remarked as she tasted cheese for the first time.
“Good for you,” he replied with a bemused smirk on his face. Kafele got up and went over to a table on the other side of the room. “Eat and drink as much as you want. If you get tired, just lie back down and sleep for a bit. I have to attend to some business, so I’ll be gone for a little while.” He walked over to the front door. “I’ll probably return before you wake back up though. I’m going to lock the door so no one can sneak in on you, all right?”
“All right. Thank you for the food. You were right, I was hungry. Guess I’m still getting used to that feeling,” Aavi said as she pushed some more bread and cheese into her mouth. Kafele turned to leave. Aavi swallowed, feeling her throat press against the collar that still encircled her neck. She tried to call out to Kafele to ask him to take it off, but she could not get the words out quickly enough. He was gone.
Chapter 19 - Soldiers on the March
D‘Molay sidestepped another pothole then turned to gauge the progress of Herikos, Kastor and the oxcart hauling the beast. The condition of the wide road had worsened as it neared the fortress. The rest of the caravan had fallen far behind D’Molay’s head start. Examining the cracks and loose chunks of stone at his feet, the tracker deduced that the roadbed was simply no match for the constant stream of armies and war machines that Ares spewed from his keep. The weight of such traffic had taken its toll. Apparently there were few road engineers in the service of the Greek god of war.
As he watched the cart jostle along, he took a swig from his water flask. D’Molay almost choked as the vehicle lurched, a wheel finding a deep rut. Thankfully, Herikos was a skilled teamster and he directed the oxen to perfectly compensate for the drop. The wagon bobbed from side to side as more dips and rises were crossed, reminding D’Molay of a ship at sea. Confident now that the beast would reach the fortress safely, he corked his flask and resumed his own march. He was soon close enough to see guards watching the caravan’s progress from several points along the high walls. He offered a friendly wave but received none in return.
When he reached the first of several gates to the dark stone complex, a priest and two soldiers were waiting for him. This was the first time he’d had any cause to visit Ares’ holdings. Unsure of this god’s protocol, D’Molay waited to be addressed.
“You are the tracker, I suppose,” the priest said by way of greeting. D’Molay studied him, watching as the man’s hand drifted to the butt of a dagger worn at his right hip. The weapon’s hilt was studded with gems, and its scabbard tooled with intricate designs. This did not lull D’Molay into assuming the piece was ceremonial, however. He fully expected the ornamentation hid a sharp and functional blade. Perhaps the guards were the ones there for show; this priest’s demeanor indicated he was willing and able to dispatch unwelcome visitors with his own hand. Sometimes the minions of gods were more dangerous than the deities themselves. D’Molay proceeded carefully and spoke humbly to the priest.
“Yes, I’m D’Molay, pressed into service by Eros and Zephyrus.” The slow removal of the priest’s hand from his dagger indicated that he was satisfied with the answer, one which surely confirmed facts he already knew. Nodding, he reached into a pocket and produced several large golden coins which he held out for the taking.
“Ares and Zeus are pleased with your work. You may go.”
The coins glittered temptingly, but D’Molay hesitated to take them. He couldn’t risk being summarily dismissed. He had to get into the fortress and study the beast and learn what connection it had to Aavi. The coins might give him that chance.
“What little I have done is not worthy of such a price,” D’Molay demurred, “but I would not insult the gods by refusing their gift. Therefore, I accept these coins, and ask that I may offer them immediately, through you, to the glory of Ares.”
The priests fingers snapped shut over the coins that had been waiting on his palm. A slight smile crossed his face as he recited a formal thank you. “Ares accepts your offering. May your enemies flee at your approach and the walls of cities give way at your trumpet.”
D’Molay bowed then turned away from the fortress, for all appearances taking his leave. But he wasn’t planning to go anywhere.
“Kastor!” D’Molay hailed as he met the approaching cart. “A hand up, if you please!” Kastor grinned, leaning over to extend his arm to D’Molay, who pulled himself up into the slow-moving vehicle.
“Changed your mind, have you?” the Greek asked with a laugh. “Since we’ve come all this way without being eaten, it seems safe now, eh?” Kastor scooted over a bit toward Herikos, giving D’Molay plenty of room to sit beside them. D’Molay settled in, leaning against the back of the seat. It was so hard and splintery he immediately tilted forward again. Propping himself comfortably with his forearms on his thighs, D’Molay cocked his head to address Kastor.
“I decided not to let my fear rob me of a chance to see the inside of Ares’ Fortress,” he said. “Think of the look in the eyes of my future sons when I tell them I was in the halls of your great god of war.”
Kastor slung a consoling arm around D’Molay’s shoulders. “Any boy would be impressed,” he agreed. “But I’m sorry to tell you they won’t let you in. You’re not Greek, and even worse, you’re not a soldier.”
“Sadly true,” D’Molay responded in a cheerful tone which belied any disappointment. “But I’m the friend of the brave captain who caught the Great Beast. Surely that counts for something.”
Kastor removed his arm from around D’Molay and tapped his own knee thoughtfully. “Of course, of course,” he muttered, not wanting to give any hint that he had doubts about his own importance or authority. Next to him, Herikos scoffed.
“Three dinars say that they keep him out.”
“Are you betting against your captain?” Kastor demanded to know in a friendly bluster. “Shine your coins now, Herikos. If the priest will let your smelly cows in, he will certainly admit my brave companion D’Molay.” D’Molay smiled as the oxen’s tails flicked as if responding to Kastor’s insult. His plan to use Kastor’s pride as a gate key was working. Now it was just a matter of how impressed the priest was with his somewhat disguised bribe.
As it turned out, there was less drama at the gate than D’Molay anticipated. When the wagon finally rolled up to the guards, Kastor gave a hearty speech about his ‘comrade in arms’ deserving to see the interior of the fortress. The priest, one hand in his pocket - no doubt caressing the golden coins - merely waved them as he stared at the beast. Herikos sighed and dug three dinars out of his belt.
Kastor took his winnings with a grin, elbowing D’Molay. “There, you see! A captain’s friendship is worth the world.”
“It is, it is,” D’Molay agreed.
Several more gates of heavy iron swung open before them as they arrived in an expansive, well-trampled lot that ran up against the massive base of the tower itsel
f. Off to one side, men with pikes were practicing their attack technique against a squad of clockwork mannequins with multiple arms, each hand bearing a sword or shield. A water boy who was hurrying with a bucket and ladle to refresh them paused to gape at the beast on the cart. His slacking was immediately reprimanded by another temple official, who slapped him soundly round the ear and sent him running. D’Molay noted that although this dignitary wore no gems or fine robes, it was clear from the way he ceaselessly surveyed the yard that he had his finger on the pulse of everything that was going on there.
“Panos,” Kastor said, the man’s name dripping from his lips as if the saying of it left a bad taste. Herikos slowed the oxen to a stop as his captain and Panos glared at one another. Panos wore soldier’s gear, but it was different than the trappings of Kastor and Herikos. D’Molay guessed that Panos belonged to an elite unit connected to the fortress. The tension between Kastor and Panos was obvious even to an outsider such as himself. D’Molay raised an eyebrow and looked toward Herikos for an explanation of the men’s mutual enmity. For his part, Herikos looked like he was bursting with a story, but clearly this was not the time to tell it. He shrugged his shoulders in response to D’Molay’s uplifted brow.
“And how is it that you’re not dead, Kastor?” Panos smirked.
“Clearly Ares favors us,” Herikos interjected before Kastor could sting Panos with his own retort. Panos snorted disdainfully before striding toward the back of the wagon to take a look at their delivery. His departure allowed Kastor to vent some of his anger. Under his breath, he expressed his willingness to lose Ares’ favor by severing certain bits of Panos and inserting them into other bits of Panos, a plan for which Herikos prodded him sharply in the ribs with his elbow. “Don’t give him reason to have you punished again,” he warned.
As Kastor growled and Herikos whispered more calming words, D’Molay craned around in his seat to see what Panos was doing. “Shouldn’t we get the beast under lock and key?” he called back to this new gatekeeper. “This creature might heal quickly and overcome the power of the nets. Where is its prison?”
CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN Page 19