Past Imperative [Round One of The Great Game]

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Past Imperative [Round One of The Great Game] Page 27

by Dave Duncan


  T'lin shot a penetrating green glare at her. “No. I earned this. You can thank the gods or thank me, as you prefer."

  Even Eleal was surprised by that, and Gim looked truly shocked, but he said nothing. Sister Ahn was hobbling over to them, leaning on her staff and weighted down with her ridiculous sword.

  "What's at Thogwalby?” Gim asked. He was apparently waiting for the nun to arrive before starting to eat.

  Eleal bit into a peach. “A monastery."

  "Not much else,” T'lin said with his mouth full. “Green brothers. Don't allow women near the place."

  "Not even these two?” Gim grinned shyly.

  Dragontrader shook his head.

  "Garward Karzon, god of strength,” Eleal explained. “Men go there to train for the festival.” She had never been to Thogwalby and was annoyed to hear that she might miss it this time. “Some of them stay there year after year!"

  "And never see a woman,” T'lin agreed. “Lot of sacrifice for a miserable flower in their hair, if you ask me."

  Gim bristled. “The principle is that all mortal achievement is transitory, sir, and the roses fade after—"

  "I know the principle, lad. It's the practice that would bother me."

  Gim clenched his lips and did not reply.

  Sister Ahn settled awkwardly to the ground, clasped her hands in prayer, then helped herself to a slice of bread and a piece of cheese. Apparently she considered the cost of food to be included in the fare, because she did not offer additional payment. Her face was gray with fatigue.

  T'lin chewed for a while, studying her. Finally he said, “Sister? We're going to come down somewhere near Thogwalby. Where do we deliver our Maiden of Destiny?"

  The nun blinked her faded, filmy eyes at him. “I am not familiar with the geography, T'lin Dragontrader. The prophecies do not specify a location. I am sure the gods will provide."

  "One way or the other? According to our little Toast of the World, there are at least two reapers skulking around Sussia now, and at least one of them knows her and will kill her on sight."

  "Two reapers?” Sister Ahn turned her head stiffly to look at Eleal. “Tell me, child."

  All the taste had gone out of the food. Eleal recounted the tale of Dolm Actor again.

  The nun frowned as if worried, but did not comment. There was a long silence while everyone waited for her to finish chewing, but she just kept on and on. Dragons crunched grass in the background.

  "Why don't you mention his name?” Gim asked. “You didn't last night, either."

  "Because if you know a reaper, he will know you know him! I am trying to spare your life, that's all."

  Gim gulped, and looked at the other two for confirmation. The nun was still chewing, staring at the ground. T'lin was frowning. After a while he said, “The convent at Filoby will take you in, Sister."

  The old woman nodded, not looking up.

  "And the girl also."

  "Zappan to that!” Eleal said. “I did not escape from the red just to be trapped by the blue. To be a priestess is not my ambition, T'lin Dragontrader!"

  "No self-respecting goddess would have you anyway, minx. You want to go to Suss and join your friends?"

  "Er, no.” One of those “friends” was a reaper, and from the glint in T'lin's eye he had guessed as much.

  "The sisters will grant you shelter while the festival is on, I'm sure.” T'lin popped a last fragment of cheese in his mouth. “What happens after depends on what happens during. Maybe nothing."

  Life, Eleal decided, had become very much like that journey in the mist—straight down with no clear future in sight. What happened after she had delivered that unthinkable baby? Would Tion reward her when she had fulfilled the prophecy? Would the Lady bear a grudge, so she would have to wander the world forever like Hoinyok in The Monk's Curse?

  "Eleal?” Gim said, “tell me about the festival.” He was smiling wistfully. Sister Ahn had drifted off to sleep where she sat, head down, a small huddle of threadbare blue cloth. T'lin had stretched out on the grass, soaking up sunshine.

  "Well!” Eleal pondered. “It would take me all day to tell you everything. It always begins on Thighday evening, with a service in the temple. That's not in the city, it's outside. The next day there's the dedication. Then all the athletes go off on the circuit and the artistic events begin."

  "Circuit of what?"

  "Sussvale. It takes four days. They stay at Thogwalby, and Filoby, and Jogby. Every day the last few are disqualified and lots just drop out."

  Gim's blue eyes widened. “Why?"

  "Exhaustion, of course! Sussland's always hot as an oven. At Thogwalby they honor Garward. At Filoby they have another dedication, to lilah. She's goddess of athletes. They spend the night in the sacred grove there.” She sniggered. “One year there was a thunderstorm and they all caught colds! Next day they march to Jogby."

  "What do they do there?"

  "Lick their blisters."

  "I mean what god do they worship?” Gim said crossly.

  Eleal could not recall ever hearing of a temple at Jogby. “None! You don't have to go round by Jogby to get to Suss, so I've never been there. I suspect it's just a ploy to keep them out of the way. By the time the brawn gets back to Suss, we artists've usually got most of the individual performances out of the way, and a lot of the plays, too. The end is on Headday, of course. The roses are awarded and the winners parade into the temple to thank Tion, and all the cripples and invalids are brought in and the god performs a miracle ... What are you grinning about?"

  Gim scrambled to his feet and went sauntering off as if to admire the view. Eleal went after him.

  "What's the matter?"

  He grinned sheepishly. “Nothing."

  "Tell me! I told you about the festival!"

  He was turning pink. “Oh, I was just wondering if Holy Tion looks anything like ... like Dad's statue of Kirb'l."

  "He doesn't look at all! Don't you even know that? There's no image of Tion in the temple. No mortal artist could do justice to the lord of beauty."

  "Oh. Dad's carving...” Gim squirmed.

  "I'm sure it comes very close!"

  His milky complexion reddened perceptibly. “Little monster!"

  "That's what T'lin meant by the gold rose. There's one yellow rose given out, and the winner of that stands before the altar and represents Tion. He hands out the red roses."

  Gim glowered. “I know that!"

  "I am sure you will win the gold rose!"

  She had thought that his face was red, but it had been barely pink compared with what it now turned. Scarlet spread from the roots of his hair to the collar of his smock. His misty mustache became fairer in contrast. She was fascinated. She couldn't recall ever managing to provoke such an all-encompassing blush, like a stormy sunset all over the sky.

  "Go jump off a mountain!” Gim spun on his heel.

  She hobbled after him. “But it's a very great honor to portray a god, and in your case you would be entering as a likeness of your father's carving. Perhaps the god is telling us that he wants your father brought here to make—"

  Gim spun around furiously. “Go away and stop pestering me, little girl!"

  Oo! “But I am drawn to your beauty as stenchbugs to honey—"

  "Stenchbugs get stamped on!"

  "But beauty should be recognized and all women—"

  "What's the argument?” asked T'lin Dragontrader, strolling over to them. He had stripped down to a smock and baggy Joalian breeches, both colored like a flock of rainbow birds. His sword dangled at his belt. The little gold ring glinted in his earlobe.

  "Nothing!” Gim barked.

  "I was just explaining about the gold rose."

  "Ah.” T'lin shrugged. “Myself, I don't think good looks are anything to brag about. But they're nothing to be ashamed of, either, and you'll grow out of them soon enough. Don't let this little queen bee get under your skin, lad. How well can you play that lyre of yours?"

 
"I'll show you!” Gim said, eager for a distraction.

  "I'm no judge."

  "I am,” Eleal said.

  T'lin folded red-hairy arms. “You keep out of this, pest. Can you twang a note or two well enough to enter? Not win, necessarily, just reasonably enter?"

  "Think so."

  "Good. Then you'll do that. You can be our scout at the festival."

  Gim frowned. “The festival is to honor the—"

  "Then why are there reapers there? Your god told you to rescue this half-size bellyache, didn't he?"

  Both men looked down at Eleal while she tried to think of a witty alternative to kicking Dragontrader's shins.

  "I'm suggesting your responsibilities aren't over yet,” T'lin said. “We've got her here, you and me, and we've got to try to keep her alive. Or do you put your trust in Sister Ahn's swords-manship?"

  Gim smiled. “No, sir."

  "Ah, the old bag's awake, we can be on our way. Let's see you saddle up, Wrangler. Come, Jewel of the...."

  Eleal spun around to see why T'lin was staring. She saw smoke. Something big was burning in Sussland.

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  38

  "PIOL POET WAS PLANNING TO WRITE A DRAMA CALLED the Zoruatiad, about the siege of Ruat,” Eleal explained, “so of course that year we went there to let him look over the place. He never did write it, though. Once this was all Ruatland, and Ruat was a fair and mighty city. There was a bridge there in those days. Then came the Lemodland War. Ruatia fought for the Thargians, but the Joalians won, at least hereabouts, and Trathor Battlemaster razed the city and threw down the bridge. They made Sussby into the new capital, on their side of the river, but there's still only the two bridges, at Rotby and Lameby. So Sussby grew up to became Suss, Ruatwater became Susswat—"

  "Do you ever stop talking?” Gim asked.

  "Not when faced with such an abundance of ignorance in need of instruction.” That was a quote from last year's comedy, and quite witty under the circumstance, Eleal decided. She would forgive him, then. Besides, he had smiled enough to take the sting out of his words and Gim Wrangler's smile would melt a statue of the Maiden. His face was scorched by the sun already and so coated with road dust that his eyebrows and mustache had vanished altogether. The latter looked much better when it wasn't visible.

  T'lin was in the lead. Behind him Sister Ahn lolled in Blaze's saddle like a bag of cordroot. Even if she was as unconscious as she looked, she was well strapped on. The youngsters were bringing up the rear. They had gained enough control over their mounts now that they could ride side by side and converse.

  The descent of Susslope had been easier than Eleal had expected, following the steepest route to avoid trees and then down avalanche cuts. Those in turn had led to a sizable river, which had soon entered a cultivated valley, and since then it had been all dirt road and dust and sweat. She had forgotten just how hot Sussvale was, or else the quick descent had given her no time to adjust. She had stripped down to breechclout and smock. Her legs were getting burned. So were Gim's, because he was wearing no more than she was.

  Dragons did poorly in heat, and T'lin was holding them to a gentle zaib. On either hand sun blazed on lurid green paddy fields, where brown-chested men in wide straw hats would straighten from their work to inspect the travelers, and sometimes return their waves. Eleal suspected the water round their legs would be as warm as a hot bath. Some crop she should recognize and didn't was flowering in acres of pale pink, scenting the air like custard. Once in a while the road passed through orchards of the great dark bellfruit trees, and the black shade was a blessing. Sometimes, too, watchcats would yowl from the little farms as the four dragons ran by.

  In Suss itself, and in the villages, men and women dressed in smocks that were no more than tubes of cotton with shoulder straps. Here the field hands wore only loincloths. For everyone, though, the brutal sun of Sussvale made the wheel-sized straw hats essential wear. Turbans were just not adequate. T'lin outfitted himself and his companions by buying hats right off the heads of children who ran out to see the dragons. Four copper mites bought four serviceable hats, which the original owners could replace with a few minutes’ work. Even Sister Ahn made no complaint when T'lin leaned over and placed one on her head.

  "We're still heading northeast,” Eleal said. “So we're not going to come out near Thogwalby at all. Probably nearer Filoby. And I wish I knew what that smoke was!"

  The black pillar had not dispersed; indeed it still seemed to be thickening. It stood almost dead ahead, towering over the hills like a menacing giant. The top spread out in a sooty layer, drifting gently westward, but for most of its height it was a vertical scar upon the hot, still afternoon.

  "I expect we'll find out soon enough,” she added. The side valley was about to enter Sussvale proper.

  "How big is Filoby?"

  To avoid saying she had no idea, Eleal risked a guess. “About a hundred homes, more or less."

  Gim nodded. “Built of what?"

  "Er. White stuff. Like those.” She pointed to a cluster of farm buildings.

  "Adobe. That doesn't burn very well. What else is there at Filoby?"

  "A waterfall."

  Gim rolled his eyes and joined in her laugh.

  "The Convent of Iilah,” she said.

  "Describe it."

  "I'm not sure,” she admitted. “I've only passed by. The buildings are mostly hidden in the trees. There's this sacred grove, you see. It's a little round hill covered with mighty oaks. The temple is quite small. All you can see is the dome and some red tile roofs."

  "Tiles need beams. Anything else?"

  "No,” she admitted, worried.

  "Then there's your answer,” Gim said with a frown. He nodded at the smoke. “The late sacred grove."

  Almost imperceptibly, the valley widened into Sussflat. The peaks of Susswall came into sight to the north, shimmering behind veils of heat haze. The rich plain was familiar to Eleal—a mosaic of orchards, bright green crops, tiny white hamlets—but she knew it must seem strange to Gim, native of a bleaker land. At times a star flashed in the distance; she pointed it out to him, explaining that it was sunlight reflecting from the temple roof in Suss itself. To the east, the ominous smoke still crawled into the sky.

  Red dirt tracks between the fields led eventually to the main Filoby—Thogwalby highway, which was no more than a wider version of the same rutted trail. In this hottest part of the day traffic was light: scrawny herds being driven to fresh pasture, a few ox wagons. Once Gim cried out in astonishment and pointed to a party of men riding long-legged moas in the distance. Eleal suspected they were soldiers and was relieved to have missed them.

  Eventually T'lin halted Starlight and waited for the others to gather around. “We must take a break,” he said, scowling at the mounts. “They can't take this heat.” He nodded at a hillock ahead, capped by tall trees. “Head over there; I'll catch up with you.” He rode off toward a cluster of farmhands, who were gaping at the dragons.

  Normally the others would have tried to follow Starlight, but now they were too dispirited to argue. Gim persuaded Beauty to move. Lightning and Blaze followed. The trees were smooth pillars, erupting into green canopies very high from the ground. Their shade seemed dark as a cave, and nothing else grew in it.

  Gim said, “Wosok!” and beamed when all three dragons obeyed him. He looked around approvingly at the grove. “Cool!"

  Eleal slithered down from Lightning's saddle, feeling as old and stiff as Sister Ahn. “It isn't really. It just seems cool after the heat outside."

  "You have to argue, don't you? What are these trees called?"

  "Parasol trees."

  "Do you know that, or are you guessing?"

  "I know that, of course.” After all, she had just called them parasol trees, so they were called parasol trees by her, even if other people had other names for them. She sat down on the sand and leaned back against one of the great leathery trunks. The air did feel sort
of cool. Filoby could not be much more than five or six miles away; even the flames were visible now.

  Gim had helped the nun dismount. The old woman seemed barely conscious. She did not ask for her sword, which was a bad sign.

  Ahn had never said that she was Eleal Singer's protector. Although the sword seemed to imply that, the nun had firmly denied that it was a weapon. Nor had she ever claimed that the Maiden had sent her, only that she was fulfilling the prophecy. The Youth had designated Gim to rescue Eleal from the temple, but had sent him no further orders, no vision of later events. T'lin Dragontrader was Eleal's guardian and keeper now. Her secret friend had turned out to be the most important person in her life. He was big and gruff, and she knew he had secrets she did not share, but she had no one else to trust. She wished she knew which god had sent him.

  T'lin joined them in a few minutes. He sat down, wiping his forehead with a brawny arm. His face was as red as his beard, and he was glaring. “Well, that's the sacred grove, as we thought. Last night a large group of men went by here, heading for Filoby. Fifty or sixty of them. They joked that they were going to call on the goddess."

  "What?” Eleal shouted. “You mean it was deliberate?"

  "Typical Sussian atrocity."

  Defile the abode of a goddess? “Who were these savages?"

  Gim was frowning. Sister Ahn was slumped over, apparently barely conscious.

  T'lin's green eyes were cold as ice. “The trainees from Garward's monastery, led by some of the monks. At dawn they roused the people of Filoby to join them, and they sacked the convent. Anyone who refused to help was beaten and his house destroyed."

  "Why would they do such a thing, sir?” Gim asked softly.

  "What happened to the nuns?” Eleal demanded.

  T'lin shrugged, apparently in answer to both queries.

  Despite the heat, Eleal now felt thoroughly chilled. “Last night you said there was a serious squabble in the Pentatheon, didn't you?"

  "Seems I was right, then."

  She was a token in a game being played by the gods. Garward was another avatar of Karzon and apparently just as much involved in this affair as Zath. The Man and the Lady were against her in all their aspects. The Youth was helping her, and now it seemed that the Maiden was on her side also—or at least on the opposite side from the Man, which must mean the same thing ... mustn't it? And the stake in this whole evil game was the Liberator, a baby.

 

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