Sadie wiped her face on the towel and handed the cloth and her glass to the waiting youth. But before she could unsheathe her sword, a chime rang through the air.
Gracefully, the Zacatlanders dropped into sitting positions, kilts discretely tucked around their legs. The soldiers from Ocean’s Glory were half a beat behind. The men from Seagem awkwardly sank to the ground.
Sadie knelt and closed her eyes. She took deep breaths, centered into the core of her othersense, and offered up her essence to the Deity. In the last days, she’d grown accustomed to the practice. Now she could ease into a connection with Guinheld and send a flow of energy to strengthen the Goddess.
For someone who didn’t believe in God a few weeks ago, I’ve come a long way.
The time in the meditation session stretched on, and Sadie realized the Goddess must be drawing energy for tomorrow. Guinheld probably needed to absorb a great deal from all of her people in order to transport a large group to another country and from there, join with Withea to send them across the sea.
The Goddesses will need to replenish again before the battle. But will there be enough time for Them to do so?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
On the plain just outside the forest of Exonlah, the five clans of the Che-da-wah had pitched their gruptahs in rows that followed the curve of the trees. Those who were too young or too old to fight went about the business of cooking, mending harness and sharpening spears while the warriors trained. Jasmine, Sha-na, and the rest of the healers worked with Arvintor, tending the people who’d been injured.
After long deliberation, this morning they’d released Ontarem’s soldiers. Although the prisoners hadn’t wanted to return to their army, Indaran felt, and Arvintor agreed, that they could look for ways to sabotage Ontarem’s forces and continue to spread the dissent seeded by Jasmine and Landers, the guard she’d befriended in Penutar and who’d died in her defense.
Indaran had experienced a pang in watching the men march bravely back to Ontarem’s army. He knew only too well how it felt to be free of the Evil One’s leash, and, yet, return to take up arms against Him, knowing that you were risking possible torture and death. Even now, he sometimes spared a moment from battle practice to wonder how they were doing.
Mounted on his white stallion, Indaran watched the Che-da-wah ride down lines and throw spears at targets made of dried grass. The wind blew, hot and strong—unusual for this time of year, sometimes catching a spear in a gust and pushing it off center. As he studied the nomads, he tried to absorb what they could do and figure out how best to use their abilities in the battle he knew was coming.
Indaran glanced over to his left to check on his sister. Daria oversaw a mixed group of the Ocean’s Glory soldiers and the men and women from Seagem who’d returned with them. She’d outfitted Ontarem’s former prisoners with uniforms from the extras they’d brought along, and the emerald green blended into the teal grass waving in the breeze.
His sister had the foot soldiers conducting basic sword drills, while Khan worked with the mounted archers from Ocean’s Glory, teaching them how to shoot from horseback. Some looked to have caught on to the skill, and others flopped about their saddles so much, he doubted they’d be able to hit the side of a palace. They might as well give up and shoot from their own two feet. If they didn’t improve soon, Khan would have to split them into two groups.
After cantering around his group, Khan ended up near Indaran and nudged his horse closer. He studied the Che-da-wah. “Too bad they don’t use arrows. In America…” He paused and made a face. “In a country in my world, there was a grassland much like this. The nomads who roamed the plains were unparalleled horsemen and warriors. They would braid a loop of rope into their mounts’ manes so they could slip to the side of the horse and fire arrows from underneath…at a gallop.”
Indaran looked with interest at his brother-in-law. “Jasmine has told me much of your world. Would that we had some of your weapons.”
Khan’s dark eyes grew serious. “With great weapons comes great responsibility. I think it’s just as well you don’t.” He paused. “Besides, the other side usually manages to get a hold of your advanced weapons and then they use them against you.”
Indaran figured his brother-in-law was right.
“On my travels,” Khan went on, “I was fascinated by those nomads. When I returned home, I worked hard to learn to shoot from horseback. But only upright in the saddle.”
“The Che-da-wah are interested in our bows and arrows. I’m sure they’ll start using them.”
Khan’s expression shuttered. “If they live long enough.” He jerked his head in the direction of the archers. “I need to get back to my men.” He wheeled his horse around and cantered off.
Indaran watched him for a moment. Then his gaze moved on to the distance, to the scouts he’d sent out, wondering when they’d be back with their reports. Then he scanned the whole area, checking out the army he’d assembled, hoping he was doing enough to keep them alive.
~ ~ ~
Standing in front of the temple window that led to Withea’s land, Thaddis couldn’t control the nervousness churning in his belly. Guinheld had decreed he needed to make peace with Withea before the army left Zacatlan, or he wouldn’t have access to the desert Goddess’s power. So he’d risen early before his forces would assemble for departure to have the conversation that was the last thing he wanted to do this morning.
He’d never been in Withea’s shrine, although Sadie had described the sanctuary to him, and if the choice had been his, he’d never set foot in the place, nor come near the formidable Goddess of the desert, who now ruled Ocean’s Glory as well.
The arched window opened.
Without giving himself time to think, Thaddis stepped over the threshold and into the smaller room that housed the Goddess. Lights set into the ceiling sparkled like stars, casting bright illumination. The pale marble walls sparkled with gold flecks.
Accompanied by the musical sound of a small water fountain, Thaddis walked forward until he found himself on the edge of a pool. He faced a large statue of a Goddess wearing a robe and veil. One outstretched hand dripped water into the pool.
Apprehension raced down his spine. In his last encounter with Withea, she’d turned him into a feeble old man. He made the statue a low bow. “Goddess, I’m glad to meet you under more…pleasant circumstances.”
The statue inclined Her head. Proud am I of you, Thaddis of Ocean’s Glory, for facing your past, accepting your present, and changing your future.
At the approval in Her tone, relief rolled through him. “Thank you for freeing me. Although—” he edged his tone with irony “—I could have done without the aging, paralysis, senility…”
It was necessary. Freeing you from Ontarem’s bondage wouldn’t have been enough to change you to your very core.
He thought back to the arrogant prince he’d been. “I know that now.”
You will face Ontarem, Thaddis. Guinheld and I have prepared you as best we could. But we have little power in Ontarem’s land, and to send you all on this journey will take much of what we have. We’ll need time after your journey to replenish. The people of Ocean’s Glory still struggle with their feelings of betrayal and the breaking of their generations-old bond with Besolet. The shift of allegiance to me will take time.
Worry niggled at him. “You’re saying we’re on our own?”
Call upon s only when we are most needed. If we can aid, we will.
He bowed his head. “Thank you…for everything.”
Go with my blessing, Thaddis of Ocean’s Glory.
Feeling lighter than when he’d entered the shrine, Thaddis saluted Her. Then he strode around the curve of the pool and headed back to Zacatlan.
~ ~ ~
Clad in a uniform of Seagem’s green that she’d been fitted for several days earlier, Sadie trotted down the hallway of the guest “egg,” anticipation and fear causing a knot in her stomach. Her backpack jiggled, and h
er sword in the scabbard bounced against her thigh. She’d padded her pants pocket with a scarf to absorb the impact when she moved.
Cheta, wearing a green leather collar, kept pace with her. The Goddess had decreed the dog needed to go with Sadie.
Once outside, she slowed. People in white robes packed the walkways. Here and there, a splash of green or black indicated the presence of a soldier heading to the temple. As she approached the building, the people stopped walking and parted for her to pass, murmuring Guinheld’s blessing on her. She caught up with a green-uniformed man, whom she recognized from his back as Lial, and fell into step with him.
“Quite a turn-out,” Sadie commented.
“I think this is Zacatlan’s version of a send-off parade.” Lial’s blue eyes shone with interest, and he craned his head, trying to see everything. “I can’t get over the color, the energy.”
“Do you remember the last months?”
“Sort of,” Lial said, his eyes darkening with remembered pain. “I was living…no functioning in a dull gray haze, with leaden limbs, and…” He shook his head. “Like the living dead.”
“Ah, a zombie,” Sadie used a light tone, trying to pull him back from the bad memories. “Of course, you actually have to be dead to turn into a zombie.”
Lial stared at her with a horrified expression.
Sadie waved in a canceling-out gesture. “No. No, forget I said that. I was just joking. My world doesn’t really have zombies. We just like to make up stories about them to entertain ourselves.”
He shuddered. “Your world sounds strange, indeed.”
“You have no idea,” Sadie muttered, glad the approach of the other soldiers made for a change in subject.
They all greeted each other by name. After a long day of working in groups or in pairs, no one was a stranger. Her comrades radiated the same combination of excitement and tenseness that thrummed through Sadie’s body.
They entered the temple, welcomed by the citrusy scent and a feeling of warmth from Guinheld. The walls looked solid, probably to spare the energy needed to make them into windows, and the space was packed with more people—citizens of Seagem and Zacatlan—as well as the rest of the soldiers. Instead of the normal hush and peace, the sound of low-voiced conversations buzzed around her.
For a moment, Sadie debated about opening the walls but decided to conserve her power. Who knows how soon I’ll need all my resources? She moved to join Wenda.
The priestess had changed from a white robe to a green one and pulled her curly hair into a puffy ponytail. She greeted Sadie with a hug.
Through her othersense, Sadie could feel the excitement and anxiousness of the people around her, especially from the Zacatlan soldiers, although their faces remained impassive.
Archpriest Devore waited near the window. New worry lines had appeared around his eyes. At his side stood the tiny, aged figure of Rodna. Sadie had met the Archpriestess several days earlier.
Thaddis, wearing a green uniform and looking every inch a warrior, strode to join them. He turned to survey the crowd as if looking for someone.
Knowing he was searching for her, Sadie’s heart gave a traitorous jump. She forced herself to look away, to find the rest of her team.
Behind her, the patchwork fighting force bunched together, although today their green uniforms gave everyone the look of solidarity. Only the gold-embroidered symbols on their chests distinguished the country of origin. When asked, Sadie had chosen an American flag, red, white, and blue trimmed in gold.
In unison, Devore and Rodna raised their arms for silence.
Rodna stepped forward. Although stooped and wrinkled, she radiated authority, and when she spoke, her voice sounded clear and charged with power. “The fate of the world rests upon your shoulders.” She smiled, sending crinkles across her face. “Although that pronouncement sounds dire, you take with you all our good will and the strength of our Goddess.”
Devore slid forward to her side. “You will have the support of all of Zacatlan as we give our energy in your cause. May the Goddesses and Gods go with you.” He and Rodna turned as one and stared at the wall—a different area between the window for Seagem and the one for Withea’s temple—and the stone flashed open.
Apprehension spiked through Sadie. Our mission has begun. How many would die to free the enslaved and save this world from tyranny?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Even though the temple overflowed with more people than he’d ever seen in Zacatlan, part of Thaddis’s awareness remained with Sadie. Now that they were actually about to cross over into his country, tension tightened his muscles. He could be met with anything from formal politeness to veiled hostility to actual attack, and he didn’t want Sadie to be made to feel uncomfortable nor to be caught up in any violence directed at him.
His hands tightened on the long tube he carried, containing the rolled up maps he’d drawn. He glanced over his shoulder to check on Sadie, relieved to see her surrounded by soldiers. Not that she couldn’t hold her own with the best of what Ocean’s Glory could throw their way, he just didn’t want to take the risk.
Boerk caught his eye and gave Thaddis a short bow. “My…” The man paused, obviously not knowing how to address his former king.
Devore came to Boerk’s rescue. “My Lord Commander,” he supplied the title.
“Ah, thank you, Archpriest Devore.” Boerk turned back to Thaddis. “My Lord Commander, I believe it will be wise to allow me and some of my men to precede you into the temple. Your…resurrection into a man of strength...” He waved his hand toward Thaddis in an up-and-down motion. “Will be quite a shock.”
Devore smiled. “The Archpriestess Tranca and Archpriestess Binkcal have been informed of the changes to The Lord Commander.”
“That is good.” Boerk’s troubled expression belied his words. “Yet, being told and seeing are two different things. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Nor do I, Captain Boerk,” Thaddis gestured toward the window. “Please proceed. I will follow your men.”
Boerk gave Thaddis another of his short bows, picked up his backpack from the floor, heaved the load over his shoulders, and climbed through the window.
Boerk and Philan led the small army from Guinheld’s temple through the window. Thaddis stood to the side, inspecting the soldiers from three countries as they marched by. He studied each person’s face and, with his othersense, analyzed the level of fear or anticipation. From all he could tell, everyone seemed excited to begin the journey. A good start.
One by one, the soldiers from Ocean’s Glory, clad in Seagem’s green uniforms, passed him. When all of them had climbed through, Thaddis looked to Devore and Rodna and inclined his head in respect. “My thanks to you and to the Goddess for your healing and…hospitality.”
With a maternal air, Rodna reached up and patted Thaddis’s arm. “You’re a good man, Thaddis of Ocean’s Glory. Never forget that.” She stepped back.
He hadn’t spent much time with the elderly Archpriestess, but the warmth of her good will surprised him. “Thank you.”
Archpriest Devore gave him an approving smile, placed a hand on Thaddis’s shoulder, and squeezed. “You’ve come far in your time here, Thaddis. My othersense tells me that you will need what you learned here, and thus I say to you—remember Guinheld’s ordeal.”
Thaddis nodded, tucking away the Archpriest’s words to consider later.
Devore raised his hand. “May the Goddesses and Gods go with you,” he repeated the blessing.
Thaddis said a quiet goodbye and thanks, scooped up his backpack, and settled the straps on his shoulders, then picked up a tube containing maps and tucked it under his left arm. He wanted his sword hand free, even though he had no intention of harming anyone in Ocean’s Glory…unless they attacked Sadie, which wasn’t likely.
All his senses alert, he climbed over the threshold and came face to face with Archpriestess Tranca, dressed in her formal red robe, her grey hair covered by a hood em
broidered in gold.
Seeing Thaddis, she gasped, and her eyes widened in shock.
Archpriest Binkcal, plump and balding, wearing an identical robe, placed a supportive hand on the small of her back. With round faces, gingery hair, and green eyes, the couple looked more like siblings than mates.
Tranca’s hand flew to cover her mouth, before the Archpriestess gathered her dignity, lowered her arm, and straightened. “We welcome you home,” she said in a monotone, reciting the rote greeting she must have given to the men before him, although they probably received far more warmth with the words.
When Thaddis was a child, he’d considered the two to be almost second parents to him. They tried, as best they could, to fill the hole left by his mother’s death and his father’s emotional abandonment. With grief, he remembered the loss of their nephew, Jun, killed in the attack of Seagem. Although he hadn’t been close with Jun, who’d been a few years older, while growing up the youth had always been good to him. And I repaid him with death. No wonder they greet me without their previous warmth.
He dropped to one knee. “I am truly sorry for the loss of Jun, and even more so for the attack on Seagem, which has brought suffering and loss to so many.”
“Withea has told us of Ontarem’s hold on you,” Tranca said, her tone as stiff as her back.
“Rise,” the Archpriest commanded.
The heavy pack and the roll of maps unbalancing him, Thaddis clambered to his feet. “Knowing the reasons for my actions does not take away the grief from the death of loved ones. Nor alter your feelings about me.”
With narrowed gaze, Tranca raised her chin. “No, it does not.”
The Archpriest took his wife’s hand. “As is our duty, we strive to forgive. But in this situation, our journey there is…will be…difficult.”
“I understand, and I thank you for your duty.” Thaddis motioned for them to move to the side so others could come through the window behind him. After Sadie and Cheta climbed through, he went over to her, took her hand, and led her three steps to the couple. “I’d like you to meet Ocean’s Glory Archpriest Binkcal and Archpriestess Tranca.” To them, he said, “Sadie Issacson is the outworlder who has come to help us in our war against Ontarem.”
Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy) Page 27