City of Gods [Book 3 of the Teadai Prophecies]

by Dana Davis

  Wren tensed again, and Haranda’s breaths came in short spurts. Finlor cursed quietly as Raith stepped to join him. The ruddy complexioned man had been somewhat quiet lately but his back stiffened and his broad shoulders seemed to grow in width. Xiath could see that even in the moonlight. He forced himself to remain calm as he tightened his arm around his bedfriend’s shoulders.

  “I am not your wife. I will never forget what you did. And I won’t allow you to harm me or any of my kin.”

  Lombreeth threw back his head and laughed. “You can’t stop me. You’ll do as I say, wife, and stop this foolishness. Come back to my bed. I have yet to plant my seed in you. Ah, and what a babe it will be.” He reached his hand toward her and she took a step to him. “That’s it. Come to me, my wife. Come to me.”

  Tsianina took another step and Xiath wanted to run to the girl and shake her, but she drew a dagger from beneath her cloak instead, the blade catching the moonlight.

  “Whore! You dare threaten me with middling weapons. I’ll tear you apart.” He lunged but several wolves pounced and dragged him to the cold street. He cried out in agony as they tore at him. Frantic arms slapped at them until several whined and they backed off. Minimal sparking. Any who harnessed could use it that way. Lombreeth staggered to his feet and whirled on Tsianina. Before he could get to her, he fell to the ground in a heap, cursing and writhing as though restrained by many hands and his orb suddenly winked out.

  Saldia! Bless that girl. It has to be her.

  Just as the thoughts entered Xiath’s mind, Lombreeth’s hands and legs were bound and his voice came in muffled sounds beneath a gag. Xiath couldn’t see what they’d tied him with, and frankly, he didn’t care even a whit. Every Gypsy here knew what that man had done to Tsianina, how he used masking Energy to fool her and the rest of the people on Fire Island into believing he was a handsome, loving man. How he had forced the girl to marry him then took her to his bed under those falsehoods and tried to get her pregnant. When she got the calling, she saw his true disfigured form and fled.

  Xiath was convinced the Goddess had led the girl across the water to the life circle on the next island. He hated to think what would have happened had Tsianina become pregnant, since she was destined to become a Gypsy, and what kind of child could come of a union built on that level of deceit.

  Lombreeth continued to struggle but didn’t refresh his orb. Bel’keive, no doubt. That girl had enough binding Energy to hold a single Gypsy. Xiath didn’t want to think about what Lombreeth’s future held. The man had already broken countless oaths, a severe crime that would require the attention of the Elder’s tribunal.

  Finlor called for them to advance as Tsianina made her way to the fallen man, and Saldia revealed her little band of saviors. Taniras, Cass, Bel’keive, Murel, Snowy and Thad. The rest must have stayed behind to watch the women and children.

  The guards hauled the prone man to his feet and pushed his hood back, revealing a pockmarked face with one eye burned shut from decades of forsaken oaths. He should have died by now or at least lost the ability to harness.

  Finlor stepped forward and focused on Saldia. “Good work. Are there any more around that could cause us danger?”

  The shade walker’s eyes grew distant for a heartbeat and she shook her head. “There are a few hiding out in that building, Elder, and that one, but they don’t have weapons. And I believe Lombreeth’s latest victim, Mwerynde, is in that one over there.” Her voice climbed with shock or excitement. “And she’s a youngling!”

  Lombreeth struggled again without success, the bloody rapist. He must have known. Every Gypsy here knew he’d been trying to create a powerful offspring. He wanted to become one of the Vedi, a delusion that made him that much more dangerous. Thank the Goddess they found this youngling. If she was unlucky enough to be with Lombreeth’s child then Thad could take care of that problem tonight.

  Saldia turned to Taniras and the singer nodded. “That’s what I sense too. The wolves smell fear in the youngling, as well.”

  “Elder.” Saldia spoke with such authority that she reminded Xiath of Ved’nuri. “I think we should send Cass and Ebbi for Mwerynde. The youngling’s probably scared out of her wits by now.”

  Finlor nodded. “All right. Taniras, you accompany them.”

  “Yes, Elder.”

  “I’ll fetch Ebbi.” Cass started for the tallest building, the one Saldia’s group had been ordered to sequester.

  Finlor turned to the crowd at his back. “Haranda? How do you feel about a new clan daughter?”

  The woman gave him a weary smile. “Only fair, I guess, since Xiath has the Guana youngling underfoot.” The Elder didn’t mention Haranda’s other youngling, Henny, and he wondered how the girl fared.

  Wren pulled him down a bit and put her lips to his ear. “Looks like my days as an advisor have been extended.”

  He hid a smile. “You do like to stay busy.”

  Several kin chuckled and Xiath realized the conversation hadn’t been a private as he thought. He glanced at his kin. Some had incurred injuries the healers had no chance to mend. Did he look as bad as they did? The kin, Gypsies and Sages alike, needed food and a good night’s sleep, maybe several. Sage Lyssinya looked as drawn and gaunt as ever. She had been silent since the fighting started. She had been as much a mother to Adelsik as Haranda had and stayed close to the new-oathed even now. Adelsik’s doll-like face was unreadable as she studied Tsianina.

  Finlor motioned to two guards. “You and you send runners back to camp and get the supply wagons moving, along with The Big Iron. I want Henny and the other injured placed in Saldia’s sequestered building. We can retrieve the rest of the wagons tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Elder,” they said in unison and started barking out orders.

  “And someone round up those middlings who fled when the fighting started. We can’t take a chance that they’ll suddenly become brave and head back here.”

  “Already taken care of, Elder,” Taniras said. Her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, very much like a wolf. “The wolves herded them into the old livery.” She showed her teeth. “Mighty cold in there, though. Probably not a good place to leave them.”

  Xiath fought a smile as the Elder’s tiny eyes widened. After Finlor praised the singer, he ordered several guards to get to the livery and haul those men to The Big Iron with the other prisoners until he decided what to do with them.

  Lombreeth mumbled something beneath the scarf that bound his mouth, Saldia’s scarf. The shade walker’s long hair was loose now. She kept her focus on the vicious man and Thad stayed close by her side.

  “Did you get all the women and children to safety?”

  Saldia turned her gaze on Finlor. “Yes, Elder. Though some were none too happy with us. A small sparking demonstration from Thad convinced them to obey. Most were too beaten down to put up much of a fight, anyway. We should get back to them.”

  “What will happen to him,” Tsianina said. Her lilting voice hard.

  Finlor glanced at the bound man. “For now, he can live in The Big Iron. When we have our strength back, we can deal with him. Meanwhile, Gwen can keep him under control with the amulet until Siri’s capable again.” He placed a hand on Bel’keive’s shoulder and she turned to him, the gold hoop in her nose catching the moonlight. “Can you keep him bound until Gwen arrives?”

  “Yes, Elder.” Pride colored her voice. “I’m hardly tired.”

  “All right. Thad can heal the worst of us tonight. Let’s get out of this blasted cold before my bloody ears fall off.”

  A few chuckled at that as they made their way to the tallest stone building. Taniras, Cass and Ebbi, who were now on their way back with the frightened youngling, joined them. Saldia stepped onto the porch and gave three knocks. The door opened. Muroth stood with a lantern and a pleased look as he held the large door for them.

  “Where are they?” Finlor said.

  “Upstairs, Elder.” Saldia took up a lantern and led the way.
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br />   Finlor motioned for Xiath, Siri, Wren, Haranda and Predula to follow.

  Except for the stone floor and columns, the second level looked much like any home with hallways and rooms. At the third level, Xiath couldn’t believe what he saw. A child’s nursery, complete with beds and toys. Women and children huddled in small groups. There were at least fifty of them, he estimated now, and they filled this room quite to the brim.

  A tall woman, who appeared in her thirties, stepped to them. “Did you defeat Thombrele?” Hope filled her voice.

  “Yes, Valda,” Saldia told her. “He’s captive now.”

  “Oh, thank the Goddess.” She began to weep and a shorter woman, a few years her junior, comforted her.

  The wolf singer stepped to them. “Valda?” When the woman looked at her she said, “We need to keep everyone together tonight. We need food and the rooms you spoke of earlier.”

  The woman sniffed and dragged her sleeve across her runny nose. “Yes, of course. Gypsies, welcome. I’m Valda. This is Lucy.” She motioned to the shorter woman. “We have enough room for everyone to sleep but it’ll be cramped, I’m afraid. The prisoners can be put in the cellar if you like. And there’s enough room down there for guards and such. We have a fireplace down there too.”

  “Thank you, Mistress Valda,” Finlor said. “We accept the accommodations.”

  The two women actually giggled then clapped their hands and began to bustle around. Xiath, for one, would be able to sleep on the cold stone floor without a mattress if that’s where he landed.

  Chapter 11

  Morning came too quickly for Xiath’s liking after last night’s exertion. His shoulder was sore and stiff despite Predula’s healing and his back ached from the hard floor. Several kin shuffled about in the hallway, some whispering, but he and Wren were the only ones in the room now. She still slept beside him and he rolled to his side to face her. He stroked stray, white hairs from her brow and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She stirred and pressed her body close as his responded with an urging that had nothing to do with the Energy.

  His bedfriend opened weary eyes and peered at him over that prominent nose he loved so much. A slight smile shaped the corner of her mouth and fine lines formed around her eyes. Even with white hair, she looked to be somewhere in her middle to late thirties, but she had been in this world two-hundred and eleven years now, just three years his junior. They had been younglings together.

  She glanced around the empty room and smiled. “Morning,” she said in a tender and seductive voice reserved only for him.

  He grinned. “Is it morning? I hadn’t noticed.” He kissed her firmly on the lips and they lingered that way for several heartbeats until children squealed out in the hall. Then they both pulled away and chuckled softly. “So much for privacy.” He caught the scent of dirty bodies. They both needed a bath.

  “This must be what it’s like to have children.” Wren stretched languishingly against him. “Not something I desire.”

  “Nor I.” Gypsy duties of father and teacher had quelled any desire for little ones long ago, the fantasy of that life burst by the reality of fostering younglings. The children squealed again and he pulled from the covers to sit and stretch his sore body.

  “How are you? That shoulder still hurt?”

  “A bit. Just stiff mostly.” He harnessed the Energy just to see if it would respond and silently thanked the Goddess when awareness filled him. So many heats from kin and middlings in this one building, large as it was, made the place seem small. The stiffness returned as he allowed the Energy to seep from his body. “At least I can harness. You?”

  Wren paused a heartbeat then smiled. “Yes. After last night, I wasn’t certain any of us would ever have that ability again.”

  He chuckled and stood, pulling her up with him. “I have a youngling to check on today. And you have duties as well with Haranda’s new girl.”

  Wren nodded. “How’s Har’guana doing?” She began to retrieve the blankets and fold them.

  “As well as I could expect considering all the dreamweed that was in his body. He’s learning to communicate. I think it’s easier for him to learn than for us. The Guana language has several odd nuances that are much easier to learn as a child.”

  “Mmm. He must feel homesick.”

  “On occasion. But he’s adjusting. It will take a while, though. I hope to get him to the Land of the Goddess soon. Nym would be a good mentor for him.”

  Wren nodded. “I want to check on Henny.”

  The unconscious girl had grown thinner over the past few days but the healers kept feeding her liquids through a flexible straw they’d fashioned from some reed or other. Xiath got a knot in his stomach thinking about the youngling, who now rested in Valda and Lacy’s bed. The two women had insisted she be put there to spend her last days in comfort.

  Valda popped her head inside the doorway. “Morning meal is served, Gypsies. I can’t guarantee how long it will last.” She smiled and disappeared.

  “Well,” Xiath said. “I’m certainly not going to miss one of Valda’s meals.”

  Last night before they bedded down, the woman had served up a stew that tasted better than any Xiath ever remembered having. Though the kin cooks made tasty meals, they could learn a thing or two from her. Finlor would definitely want to oath this one. Her bedfriend, Lucy, made all their children’s clothes, as well as hers and Valda’s. Gypsy kin could use another talented seamstress too.

  But the problem with oathing these two was the children. Immature bodies couldn’t survive the intensity of an oathing. The Elders didn’t know why this happened, but horrific examples from centuries past had been painstakingly recorded in the teaching scrolls. Anyone younger than marriage age was forbidden to take oaths. The fact that any child who crossed into the Land of the Goddess immediately had their body aged to maturity seemed further proof of the danger. So children didn’t accompany Gypsy kin unless they were younglings.

  Though there were rare exceptions, like Ebbi. The Elders allowed that child to remain since she’d threatened to kill herself if they put her out. Wren could urge those thoughts from the child but she told them that Cass had a special bond with Ebbi as that an older sister, and the child had no place to go except back to the taverns. Cass didn’t need that extra strain right now, so the Elders allowed Ebbi to stay on, subject to rules and punishments of oathed servants. The servants took to the girl right away and had already begun teaching her basic skills. As soon as she became marriage age, she would take the oaths. Xiath had no doubt about that.

  He had felt no fluctuating heat from any of the hamlet children, other than Mwerynde, who, as it turned out, was one of Zarenia’s distant cousins. For now, there were no other new younglings present, though that could change with each passing day.

  The body-healers, slumberers, a few new-oathed girls, and the new youngling slept in Henny’s room last night. The unconscious girl was somehow still alive, thanks to the healers’ ministrations, but she hadn’t awakened.

  Wren tugged at him and he followed her out into the hall. They walked to Henny’s room and Xiath waited outside while Wren spoke with Predula. Middling children ran toward the stairs that led to the upper floor while kin headed downstairs to the first, saying their good-morning greetings along the way.

  “How is she?” Xiath said when his bedfriend returned.

  “No change.”

  He nodded and led Wren down the stone stairs.

  Many had gathered already with bowls of steaming food and what smelled like cider wine. Kin and middling women bustled here and there, carrying items, shooing children, some cursing when a child got underfoot. The door to the outside opened and closed periodically with foot traffic and Xiath smiled at the activity.

  Cold air brushed against his face as he led Wren into the large dining room between the hall and the kitchen. They nodded to the others already seated at the long table as they took two empty spots. This home was much larger inside than it appeared
from the street.

  When Valda began to serve them, he studied the woman. “How did this hamlet survive all these years without anyone knowing much about it?”

  Valda smiled at him and he noticed a tiny mole at the corner of her lips. She was an attractive woman, shorter than Wren, but at least as tall as Taniras. “Our grandsires’ grandsires,” Valda said in her slight accent, “wanted it that way. They found this place by accident, since it had been abandoned and covered over in growth, and spent several years digging out the buildings and the old road. Since they didn’t want intruders, the road leading here stayed concealed under grasses and completely invisible until Thombr—Lombreeth decided to uncover it for easy access to the Tandiar Province.” Her face grew taught for a heartbeat.

  “Our ancestors brought their children up in the beliefs of the Goddess, teachings that could get a person hung in Brev, at least back then, so it was best to stay invisible to outsiders. Those beliefs stayed with each new generation. Life here was good for our ancestors, despite the hard work. We even had storytellers. We still fish the stream, hunt the forest, and get fresh vegetation from our gardens, meager as they are now.” She pursed her lips. “And when there’s no snow on the ground. Our ancestors’ clothes came from local sheep. And milk and cheese from the goats. Had everything they needed right here. What they didn’t have or couldn’t make, they did without.”

  Xiath gave a solemn nod. “Lombreeth ruined that happy life.”

  “Yes. Though we are still self-sufficient.” She scooped some of the steaming gray mass with tiny speckles of seasonings into his bowl. “This is one of Lacy’s grandmother’s recipes. I found it when we came to live here and have added to it over the years. It looks like gruel but wait until you taste it.”

  Xiath took that as an invitation and downed a spoonful of the warm stuff. It practically melted in his mouth and the sweetness was perfect. There was a hint of cinnamon, which he adored, and something else that he couldn’t place. “Delicious.”