Doulos turned back toward the doors barring their way and thrust out a palm. The doors flew inward, torn from their hinges. The guards standing inside were knocked down by the wooden slabs and others just missed being hit as they scrambled away.
A long table laden with food dominated the room. Seven men sat around it, staring wide-eyed at the violent interruption of their feast. The man at the head of the table stood with his sword at the ready—The Fang.
The only armed man at the table, a golden crown in the shape of a snake devouring itself rested atop his head. A man in a green cloak stood at the usurper’s side with his hood drawn up to obscure his face. The cloaked man’s hands looked wrong, belonging to something old and not quite human.
One of those hands held a writhing white snake.
“What is this outrage?” The Fang screamed. “How dare you disturb me at dinner and bring that…that khathat filth in here.”
He was using his sword to point at Y’neth but she ignored him, looking past him at something beyond. She lifted a trembling hand to point at a throne-like chair at the head of the room and the sword hanging above.
“Dilkah.”
66
Parthiy
A voice hissed from under the dark hood, “Perhapss I sshould take care of thiss, my lord.”
The Fang seemed startled by the voice and the rage on his face melted into placid blandness. He blinked rapidly, as if he’d been staring into the sun.
The usurper’s reply was toneless, wooden. “Yes, shaman, I believe you should.”
He tried to sheath his sword but missed his scabbard several times before lining it up properly and finally snapping it home. The Fang picked up his overturned chair then sat down and began to eat as if nothing had happened.
Doulos spoke to the shaman but kept his eyes on The Fang. “I see you received my message.”
“Thiss?” Scaly hands held out the writhing white snake. “A neat trick, but ssimply done.”
The shaman seemed to squeeze the snake and it hissed and bit in panic. Suddenly it became a rod of solid wood once again. “Sshall we ssee whosse ssnake iss sstronger?”
The hooded man tossed the rod onto the table where it sprang to life again. The assembled chiefs backed away in surprise as the snake coiled up in hissing anger, ready to strike.
The jelefe sat oblivious, continuing his dinner.
Doulos stared hard at the shaman, his blue eyes trying to pierce the darkness of his hood. He shrugged and threw the red-headed rod on the table where it landed as another living snake. It was larger than the shaman’s but seemed calm. Instead of hissing it bobbed back and forth, mesmerizing the smaller snake.
Spellbound, the little white snake never realized the danger until it was too late.
The red snake struck, its head whipping to sink its fangs into the other’s head. The white snake reverted back to wood and splintered into a thousand splinters.
The Fang paused in his meal long enough to pick slivers of wood from his meal.
The shaman didn’t flinch but lifted a hand and pointed at Doulos. “Well played, old man. It sseemss your fangss are ssharper than mine. Pity you have sso few when I have sso many.”
His hand snapped down and an arrow split the red snake’s head in two, driving down into the table with a sharp thunk. Where the shaman’s snake had turned back to wood when injured, the wizard’s stayed living flesh, splashing a gory mess across the table.
Snake-helmeted warriors stepped out of alcoves around the room, each bearing nocked arrows aimed at the hearts of the company.
“You are not welcome here, old man,” the shaman’s voice rose to a shrill pitch. “The Fang hass closed our borderss. Foreignerss and khathat are enemiess of Ulquiy.”
“You would refuse our help if we offered it?” Zalas asked.
“Would you fight against your own people, Maehdrassian?” the shaman taunted. “Our land iss under judgment for allowing foreign ideass and people to influence uss. All foreign filth musst be purged.”
“We’re not leaving without that sword,” Y’neth said from behind clenched teeth.
“Easy,” Stile cautioned.
“How do you intend to take it, witch?” the shaman asked.
Y’neth snarled and moved toward the shaman. Doulos raised a hand and she found herself frozen in place. She struggle against the invisible bonds. “Release me, old man,” she demanded.
“He cannot,” the shaman said, “for if he doess, you will die. Iss thiss not true, wizard?”
“You have the advantage for now, charlatan,” Doulos said, “but not for long. I’ll find a way to expose you.”
“No, wizard,” the shaman hissed. “The whole world will ssee the power of the Ssnake god. All will worsship him.”
“The Snake is no god, shaman. Beware, I’ll be back for you.”
“I look forward to the day,” the shaman gave a mocking little bow. “For now, begone. Your sship musst be gone before nightfall or all life on board iss forfeit.”
Doulos turned and stormed from the hall, the others falling behind in his wake. Y’neth was pulled along by the wizard’s power. She stared at the shaman with eyes full of righteous anger until he was lost from sight.
The Fang looked up at the shaman with a childlike face. “What did those people want?”
“Nothing you need to worry about, my lord,” the shaman soothed. “I’ll take care of them for you.”
“Alright,” the jelefe shrugged, and turned back to his plate. The surrounding clan chiefs looked on in horror as the man continued to eat, chunks of raw, bloody snake mixed unnoticed into his food.
Doulos refused to slow down or talk all the way back to the ship. The others tried to question him about what had happened, but he ignored them and kept a brisk pace through the streets of Parthiy. Without the red headed staff to guaranteed safe passage, groups of soldiers moved to apprehend them. The wizard simply waved a hand at them and they would walk away dizzy.
Doulos rounded on Y’neth as they set foot on the ship’s deck, standing nose to nose with her and breathing hard. His eyes seemed to glow like a fresh bolt of lightning. “You will stay on this ship until we’re clear of Parthiy.”
Y’neth rocked back on her heels in fear. “But…I’ve got to get Dilkah back.”
“We’ll get it back,” Doulos said, “but not with you. I barely got us out of there alive. You nearly brought death down on us all.”
“He let us go,” she protested, suddenly angry. “What did you do back there other than meet your match?”
“When two wizards battle, there’s far more going on than mortal eyes can see. If you’d stepped one foot beyond my protection you would have met a swift and agonizing death. You’ll obey me and stay on the ship.”
Y’neth turned pale and nodded.
“Do you know this shaman?” Zalas asked.
“I have my suspicions,” Doulos nodded. “There’s no doubt there’s a Huwm behind this.”
“Didn’t the jelefe seem to be…I don’t know…wrong?” Tenna asked.
“Yes,” Doulos said. “He’s under compulsion, little more than the shaman’s puppet. He probably started out as a truly charismatic leader but fell under the shaman’s sway little by little. I’d lay odds he never had a second thought about taking the jelefe’s chair before he met that snake.”
Y’neth had finally had enough time to calm down and think. “You think he had the power to raid Tower Island?”
“With an entire ship of Snake warriors under his command, I’d wager,” Stile said.
“That sounds likely,” Doulos said, “but it means little to us now that we know he has Dilkah.”
“Means little?” Y’neth balled her fists and quick-stepped toward Doulos. “How can you say that after what they did to us?”
The wizard’s face softened as he met her gaze. “We’re not agents of justice, Y’neth, and certainly not agent of vengeance. Our task is to retrieve the aword and nothing can distract us from t
hat goal. We can’t stop to right every wrong when the fate of the world rests on the decisions we make.”
“We may be able to do both,” said a melodious voice. They turned to see Quist step up from belowdecks.
Doulos raised an eyebrow. “You found him?”
“Yes,” Quist nodded. “Silent Runner is hiding in the Old House. The tale of his flight from Parthiy to Mailliw was a well-crafted ruse.”
“Can he help us?”
Quist nodded. “He says there are secret passages honeycombing the New House. He’ll guide us in return for helping him reclaim the chair of Ulquiy.”
“No,” Doulos said, “we can’t get tangled up in a civil war, we’ve got greater responsibilities.”
“We may have no other choice,” Quist shrugged. “I searched for a way into New House myself and found nothing.”
“How’d you even get off the ship?” Zalas asked. “Elves aren’t welcomed. Surely someone would have see you.”
Quist’s face broke into a mischievous smile. “Trust me when I say only those I wanted to notice me noticed me.”
Baffled, Zalas could only shrug. “So what now?” he asked.
Doulos furrowed his brow in thought and looked down at the deck. When he looked up again, his face was grim.
“Quist,” he said, “get back to Silent Runner and tell him we’ll meet, but under these conditions. I want him to send out a crew that can hide the ship close to the city, and I want them here before sundown. Then he needs to sneak me, Zalas, and Tander into the Old House without being seen. We can’t risk word getting back to the shaman that we’re still in the city.”
Quist nodded and turned to go, but Doulos held up a hand to stop him.
“Tell him he’d better be telling the truth about those secret passages. I’ll tear the New House down around the shaman’s head if I have to.”
67
Parthiy
Dawn found the Sunset’s Trace anchored in a narrow, reed choked switchback a few miles downstream from the city. One of Silent Runner’s scouts had come shortly before sunset to lead the ship out of the harbor. They made a show of leaving the city then followed a different distributary as the sun’s light faded. It left them rowing by lamplight and trusting the scout’s abilities to lead them to safety.
A boat arrived just before dawn to retrieve the wizard and his pair. They spent almost two hours poling through shallow water as they worked their way to the city’s outskirts. The cliff face of Parthiy’s plateau loomed larger until they came up alongside, passing under a low ledge hanging out over the river.
Wolf clan warriors appeared from a cleft in the rock to pull the boat in against the limestone. The group disembarked and made their way up a narrow path chiseled from the stone. The scout who had helped them hide the ship led the way until he suddenly disappeared into a crevasse running up the wall. Tander followed and the day’s early light fled away. There was only one way to go, onward through the narrow but smoothed passage.
Tander began to make out the scout’s silhouette as a soft glow appeared ahead. The light radiated from behind a thick tapestry hung over the exit of the crevasse.
“Stay,” the scout ordered then ducked around the tapestry.
Tander tried to visualize where they were in relation to the city above. He knew they were near the southern end of the cliff as it ran along the river. The path up the crevasse had been a gentle but steady incline, so he guessed they had made it at least as high as the second level and at least a hundred yards or more into the cliff. They were potentially beneath the outlying districts of the city itself.
Maybe those tracking lessons were paying off.
The tapestry was pulled aside, bathing the crevasse in warm candlelight. A large man with a long, peppery beard towered over the boy.
“Well, boy,” the big man rumbled, “stop standing there in the dark.” Tander was yanked into the room beyond by a massive hand. Zalas and the wizard stepped in beside him. The big man turned to look at the wizard and Doulos met him stare for stare.
“Did you really tell that strange elf of yours that you’d pull the New House down?”
“Yes, Silent Runner,” Doulos said, “I did.”
Tander realized the big man was the ousted jelefe. Tensions rose as he stood there with a sour scowl on his face and Tander feared swords were about to be drawn. Then, Silent Runner’s face broke into a wide, toothy smile.
“Ha! It might improve the look of the city if you did.” Silent Runner pulled the wizard into a bear hug. “I’ve always thought it was hideous thing anyway.”
He let the wizard go, and Tander saw the old wizard’s face split with smile of his own.
“Welcome to Parthiy,” Silent Runner boomed. “Though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“As do I,” Doulos’s voice was cutting, “but we can’t always choose the path to our destination. And there will always be others to pull you off the path to better serve their own journey.”
Silent Runner turned a deep shade of red. “Well…surely you see how helping me will give you what you want. Without my knowledge—and my warriors—it’s doubful you could succeed.”
“Hmph,” Doulos grumbled.
“Who are these two fine warriors with you?” Silent Runner decided to change the subject.
Doulos glared at the jelefe. “Zalas of Madhebah, and Tander of Lorranos, two of the long-foretold Bearers.”
“Bearers?” Silent Runner’s eyes went wide. “Are the days so late?”
“Why else do you think the world is in such turmoil?” Doulos said. “You’re not ignorant of the prophecies, Silent Runner. The Deceiver is here, along with his minions, and they’ve come with chaos and destruction in tow. War is coming Runner, and they don’t care who survives as long as those survivors bow down in worship.”
“I must reclaim the chair,” Silent Runner threw his arms out like a child pleading for attention. “This usurper’s done nothing to defend the land or the people, and that fool Eldinn’s allied himself with yrch.”
“I know you want to save your people, Runner,” Doulos said, “but if the sword is lost then the whole world burns, including your people.”
“I’ll do all I can.”
Doulos arched an eyebrow at the jelefe and the big man blushed again, more than a little ashamed at the conditions he’d tried to press on the wizard.
“How are you able to hide here?” Zalas asked. “I’m astonished you haven’t been found.”
“Every clan has their own caverns beneath the city,” Silent Runner said, “caverns held sacred and therefore sacrosanct. That very tradition allows me to hide my men here as long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves.”
“You mean your presence isn’t really a secret?” Tander asked. “Why would they allow that?”
“In the days before the clans were united under the Faith, all of Parthiy was revered as sacred land. Each tribe built their shrines here, worshipping the Elder Gods down here in this labyrinth. Those shrines were considered inviolate. Trespass by another clan, even accidentally, was a desecration punishable by the death of the offending clan’s firstborn.”
“Firstborn?” Tander squirmed.
Silent Runner gave the boy a sad nod. “My people were barbaric. The slightest provocation was justification for war. Acts of desecration would cause the clans to rise up and slaughter the firstborn of the offending clan, weakening that clan for a generation or more. The penalty was so heavy that it was only enacted twice in all our history. Tradition runs deep in my people, and no clan would dare trespass the sacred caves of another, not unless driven to it in some unthinkable way.”
“We’d heard your people escaped to Mailliw,” Zalas said.
“Our women, children, the infirm, and half my warriors,” the chief nodded. “It’s a close thing, but Mailliw should be able to hold out for several months.”
“What’s your plan for getting us in the New House?” Doulos asked.
“Ah,�
�� Silent Runner touched a finger to his nose. “I may hate the structure, but there’s an advantage to having been the jelefe who oversaw much of its construction. My father’s plans called for a latticework of passages within the walls. That fool usurping Snake and his shaman know nothing about them. I can sneak you in anytime.”
“Is there a secret entrance from the outside?” Tander asked.
“Of course not.”
“Then how are you going to get us in?” Zalas asked.
Silent Runner’s face broke out in a mischievous grin. “Why, I had those passages connected to the Wolf clan caves, of course.”
68
Parthiy
Tenna struggled toward consciousness as Mas kneaded her shoulder with his claws. Beams of morning sunshine streamed in through the cabin’s port hole. She groaned and squinted against the offensive light. Sleep hadn’t come easily because she’d grown accustomed to the gentle rocking of the ocean’s waves.
She swung her legs over the edge of her bed and padded over to the washbasin. Her breath caught as she splashed her face with water, the cold jarring her wide awake. The luxury of port afforded fresh water to spare. Tenna wished for a bath but settled for washing her face and sponging the worst of the last week’s grime from her body.
More awake now, she glanced at herself in the mirror and what she saw made her pause in confusion. Her own face stared back at her but it was different somehow. She would have been hard pressed to say what was different. Overtired from her troubled sleep?
Mas rubbed against her leg and brought her back to the moment. She shook her head and shoved those thoughts aside.
Dressed for the day, she made her way to the ship’s mess. Everyone else in the company had been up since the dawn so the pickings were slim. She found an apple for herself and flicked a bit of salt bacon onto the floor for Mas.
She found Karah and Quist on deck a few minutes later. They stood at the rail looking out over the wetlands. Mas scampered over and rubbed himself on the High Keeper’s bare feet and she bent to pick him up. It was then Tenna noticed he’d doubled in size since the beginning of the voyage, approaching the size of a full-grown house cat.
The Foundlings (The Swords of Xigara) Page 36