A Voice That Thunders (Voice that Thunders #1)

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A Voice That Thunders (Voice that Thunders #1) Page 6

by Cully Mack


  ‘She will, be all right? Won’t she?’ Mirah asked.

  ‘The Azu understand Abela’s purpose here. They serve my stepfather and would never dare defy him. Come, we need to go.’

  He went to walk off but Mirah refused to move. ‘What will they do to her?’

  ‘I told you. They are healers.’

  ‘Yes, but how?’

  He exhaled a long breath. ‘What does it matter? When she returns, she will be healed.’

  Mirah crossed her arms over her chest. ‘It matters to me.’

  Nate’s impatience made it clear he would not give her answers or maybe he didn’t even know. He dropped his fist over the pommel of his sword and his men standing behind them stepped closer. Ready to herd them on if they continued to resist.

  ‘Mirah asked you a question,’ Neviah pressed.

  Nate ignored her and guided them on through a network of sandy cut stone roads, some of which ran adjacent to what he called canals. They passed by rustic homes shaped like rounded towers created from clay bricks with reed and bitumen thatch roofs.

  Now and then they came across vast decimated spaces filled with substantial sized boulders. Stonecutters nearby chipped and cut angled edges into the stone. The sound of their labour tinkling into a rhythm similar to the pattering of rain. When they reached an even wider area of devastation, labourers with arms stretched wide carried boulders away.

  Mirah put her silent protest to the side and caught up to Nate. ‘What happened here?’

  He kept walking as he explained, ‘Those are the remains of the temple of Enki, the god of sweet waters. He used to be the keeper of the decrees of the gods. When my stepfather arrived, he gave the order to tear down the temples. He said, he had pushed back the powers of chaos and there is only one we must serve now.’

  She had a thousand questions but didn’t know how to phrase them. She didn’t understand these gods or the loss of them or about the changes his stepfather had made.

  ‘It’s simpler now with just one.’ Nate said to himself.

  ‘And you serve him?’

  He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t meet her eyes. ‘I brought you and your friends here, didn’t I?’

  They moved towards a more populated area where homes were covered in white plaster. Small slits for windows were set high in the walls but through their large open doorways, she spied exotic courtyards with fruit-bearing trees which the homes appeared to be built around.

  They came up behind a procession of people meandering down a sloping passage. The women dressed in vibrant coloured sleeved dresses with fitted bodices. Lapis lazuli beaded necklaces and bracelets in silver and gold jangled on their wrists.

  Dara adjusted her skirts and Mirah noted she wasn’t the only one to realise how dull they were in comparison. They had never seen such a display of coloured fabrics.

  ‘Look at their eyes,’ Dara said. ‘They’ve painted their faces.’

  They watched in awe as women paraded, smiling and chit-chatting with eyelids painted in shades of lilac, pinks and greens.

  The men, dipping their heads or averting their eyes wore wraparound garments, decorated with tiered petal shaped fringes and around their waists, rounded belts fastened the fabric in place. Musicians with lyres, sistras and cymbals manoeuvred through the crowds with children dancing around their feet.

  The passage opened onto a wide square plaza paved with sandstone slabs cut to precision. Stationed around the edges were horse drawn carts and from the carts, men were selling an array of produce, from corn and grain to pottery and ornate carved figurines. They weaved through the parting crowds with ease.

  Surrounding the mountain up ahead a deep blue boundary wall ascended towards the sky. It towered so high it was difficult to determine where the wall ceased and the heavens began.

  On nearing its arched gatehouse, Mirah saw a mosaic of lapis lazuli gems covered the wall and two inlaid winged golden bulls rising on each side of the gatehouse. It was the most spectacular creation she had ever seen.

  ‘I guess this is it then. We finally meet our destiny,’ Neviah mumbled at her.

  They crossed under the gatehouse into a mammoth square courtyard with barrack houses surrounding it. The clatter of wielded swords and pear-shaped maces echoed around the courtyard as sparring warriors, soaked in sweat, fought with ferocity as though their souls were on fire. Off to the side, others with slingshots launched small clay balls into bales of straw with deadening thuds.

  Beyond them, the mountain cloaked in crystalline blue mediated between the heavens and the ground. She wondered as she craned her neck what hidden secrets it held within and dreaded the thought of them being revealed.

  Nate dismissed his men and turning to the girls, he said, ‘Follow me.’

  ‘We’ve been following you all day,’ Neviah grumbled under her breath.

  Nate refused to wait.

  On the far side of the courtyard, a gaping chasm opened at the base of the mountain. As they approached, two men in raven black with high buttoned jackets in the same fashion as Nate’s stood to attention. The light shimmered on curved, steel blades sheathed across their backs and as they drew closer Mirah saw jagged edged daggers strapped to their black calf-length boots.

  Nate stopped in front of a tall, broad-shouldered man with an adventurous gleam in his brown eyes and asked, ‘Is he here?’

  ‘Not yet,’ he answered.

  The man attempted to stay on his guard but a held back smile betrayed a flicker of friendship.

  ‘It’s good to see you, Zeev,’ Nate said, patting him on the shoulder. ‘Anything I should know?’

  Zeev surveyed the girls, giving a brief pause on Neviah. He shrugged off his thoughts and smirked. ‘Nothing you can’t handle.’

  ‘Report to me in an hour. You can update me then. And bring beer.’

  ‘Yes, Captain.’

  Nate led them through a wide rough cut tunnel which opened into a circular chamber. The far side housed an unusual wooden contraption. Set against the chamber wall, its base was made of long planks of wood and all around a lattice of reeds fixed to a wooden frame. From somewhere above, thick ropes suspended and attached to its base. He made them squash together on its platform and then stepped on board.

  The platform rose into the heart of the mountain. Thrust into darkness, it jolted and Mirah grabbed onto the person closest as they swung and jerked their way upwards. Water drips and the sound of stretching ropes masked their shallow breaths as they climbed higher and higher. In the pitch black Mirah couldn’t see her hand as she waved it across her face. Time felt eternal as every second extended beyond her reach.

  Nate’s voice echoed up through the shaft when he announced, ‘There are two ways off this mountain. One exit is back the way we’ve come. The other is to descend from outside. I warn you now, there are worse things than Dagani roaming on this mountain.’

  When they were nearing the top, torchlight filtered into the shaft. Mirah blinked, adjusting her vision to the brightness. She spied Nate with a self-assured grin on his face.

  ‘A captain never kisses and tells,’ he whispered, admiring her hand on his arm.

  Mirah blazed red and released her hand. She didn’t know what was worse that he implied they’d been intimate or that the others would believe him. She was about to defend herself when she spotted Neviah’s bared white teeth which told her all she needed to know. She glared at Nate who chuckled under his breath.

  He raised his hands in mock defence. ‘What?’ he said. ‘It was funny.’

  When they reached the top, three women dressed in pastel fabrics, with elegant gold butterfly pins holding back their hair greeted them.

  ‘Take them to their rooms,’ Nate said. Without looking back, he left.

  ❊ 5 ❊

  Nate reprimanded himself as he paced through the tunnels leading to his chambers. The first opportunity without his men or Bishnor’s eyes watching his every move and he’d been foolish enough to reveal a small part
of himself. Mirah had looked mortified. He rebuked himself for repeating a familiar joke, of course she’d never heard it.

  He reached his chambers uninterrupted and closed the door. Everything appeared as he’d left it. Cut out of the mountain rock his first room was filled with rolled up scrolls and pigskin maps of territories, some captured and some Shemyaza still itched to claim.

  He regarded weapons stacked against the walls, making note they needed attention and dipped under an archway leading into his bedchamber. Throwing his sword on the bed, he unsheathed a dagger from his boot and another from a belt at his side. He stripped and bathed. He’d not long finished when a knocking thud interrupted his thoughts.

  ‘Beer,’ Zeev said, holding up a clay jug as he entered.

  Zeev had grown up with Nate. He was the youngest son of Nate’s old nursemaid Sumer. They were both twenty-one and Nate trusted no one as much as Zeev. Without waiting, Zeev pushed through the door and grabbed a cup from Nate’s table.

  After pouring, he waited until Nate swigged on his beer and said, ‘Zamani’s been slain.’

  Nate choked and spluttered.

  ‘I thought that would get your attention.’ Zeev’s grin spread so wide crease lines formed on his tanned cheeks.

  Wiping his mouth, Nate asked, ‘What? How?’

  Zamani was Shemyaza’s firstborn. He had been the largest and strongest of all Shemyaza’s sons.

  ‘A few days after you left, we heard a rumour of warriors arriving in Anat from across the sea. We don’t know where they came from. Shemyaza ordered Zamani to take reinforcements up through the desert plains to see if the rumour was true.’

  He grabbed a chair, gesturing for Zeev to take the other and sat. ‘If they were that far north, they wouldn’t have been a threat unless they passed into the desert. Why didn’t Shemyaza wait until then?’

  ‘He said he didn’t want them gathering in numbers and to tear down any threat before it arose.’

  ‘And Zamani’s men?’

  ‘One returned, rambling on about how a dark haired woman with a crossbow had killed Zamani. He was sent to the Azu for his injuries but died the same night. We haven’t seen Shemyaza since the news first broke. He’s been in council on the mount since then. No one is sure when he will return for the testing.’

  Nate gulped down his beer. ‘What woman?’ He held out his cup to Zeev for a refill. ‘I can’t believe one woman could kill Zamani.’

  ‘No one knows. People are saying she’s a rogue Chashmalim.’

  A rogue Chashmalim. He’d never heard of such a thing.

  From what he knew only three of Shemyaza’s offspring had ever been slain and the others had been weaklings, like runt pups in a litter. What would this mean? How would Shemyaza’s enemies interpret this if word spread?

  Cutting into his thoughts, Zeev said, ‘I guess Bishnor could become a Chieftain now.’

  Nate let out a hefty sigh. Bishnor had always been jealous because Shemyaza accepted Nate as one of his own. Until now Nate outranked him, maybe that will soon change.

  As if reading his mind, Zeev asked, ‘How was he?’

  ‘As bloodthirsty as always. I refused to let him ashore after what he did at Barakel.’

  ‘Did you find him? The one Shemyaza sent you after?’

  ‘They’re all dead except for the six we took for the tithe, Bishnor made sure of that.’

  Conviction flashed through his mind as he remembered bending the truth in his favour. In truth, Mirah’s clan had drawn blood first but even if they hadn’t, the outcome would have been the same. Shemyaza had instructed Bishnor to leave no survivors at Barakel and he’d been powerless to do anything about it. Nate knew Shemyaza selected someone there for destruction, he just didn’t know who, or why.

  Nate offered a sly smile. ‘If it’s any consolation Bishnor lost his sword. During his bloodlust, he dropped it and somehow it got covered in sand.’

  ‘You never.’ Zeev said, sitting back and squaring his ankle over his knee.

  ‘He spent the rest of the time sulking on the bow of the ship.’

  ‘I’d loved to have seen his face.’

  Nate wasn’t sure if anyone survived to find it but knew where the sword would lead if they did. He’d known before leaving the middle deck which girl to select to find out answers.

  Abela, had been sat, leaning up against the side of the ship, cast pale, any colour, any remnants of life washed clean away. He knew if he pressed her, she’d start wheezing and be unable to provide anything useful. He’d considered her sister Ayla but her concern was for her sister, she had no thoughts for anyone else. Huldah had been so overwhelmed with shyness, she’d reveal nothing and Dara, had a wisdom about her, enough to hold on to words and select what to say. He’d taken an instant disliking to Neviah and the thought of spending any time with her undesirable, besides she was too guarded. After discerning them all, he knew Mirah would be the best choice.

  He admired that, despite her fears, she had risen above them, requesting he consider her friends’ needs. Her eyes reminded him of spring meadow green grass, glossy and watered. Even though she avoided his gaze, he’d seen in her a gentleness and innocence so rare he’d had to push down the urge to protect it.

  From afar, he admired her sensitivity towards the others and the way they gravitated around her, relying on her for support. It touched him how she’d brush her graceful hand along her brow, inhaling a deep breath to rejuvenate what she’d depleted.

  He knew he could lean up against her naivety, teasing out whether she’d known if anyone was missing that day. It hadn’t even been difficult. Her slight hesitation when he’d asked if she’d lost more than her mother told him what he’d needed. Someone survived. Someone who for whatever reason had not been at Barakel. If not her father, then possibly a sibling or a lover. He’d studied her often as she stood beneath the stars, hiding behind her hair. The thought that she protected a lover, built into a crescendo of resentment inside him.

  ‘Esha has been testing the boundaries,’ Zeev said.

  He didn’t want to know but found himself asking, ‘What has she done now?’

  ‘Whilst you were gone she took it upon herself to dominate a few of your men. Ordering them around as if they were her own.’

  ‘You let her?’

  ‘Of course not. But she has an art of persuasion too difficult to decline.’

  Nate understood full well how persuasive Esha, the Fire Wielder could be. He still remembered the warmth of her heat, the way she would wield her fire over his flesh in bed, not burning but holding the balance so finely between the embers of pleasure and pain. She’d used him to gain her position then flicked him aside, a hot coal dying without the intensity of the flame. It had taken all his strength to rise out of the ash that remained. He was stronger for it, a lesson well learned.

  ‘I’m glad you’re back,’ Zeev grinned.

  A knock at the door saved him from Zeev’s jibes at how foolish he’d been.

  ‘Come,’ Nate said.

  Sumer rushed across the room and swept her arms around him. ‘I’m so delighted to see you returned.’

  Nate let her hug him and whispered in her ear, ‘I’ve missed you.’

  Any memory of his true mother had been nurtured through her. She retreated to brush her gaze over him, scanning for injuries. Deep lines crossed her brow. ‘You’ve lost weight,’ she observed. ‘I’ll go fetch you something to eat.’

  ‘No, don’t bother. You have enough on your hands.’

  Nate stayed silent for a moment tripping over the question he resisted asking.

  ‘Out with it,’ she prompted.

  He glanced at Zeev’s, quizzical expression. ‘Among them is a redhead with long flowing wavy hair. Mirah. I’d like it if you took care of her personally.’

  ‘As you wish,’ Sumer replied. She never forced the issue or pushed him for more. ‘I’ll send someone else with food.’

  She smiled at her son before retreating.


  After the door clicked, Zeev wasn’t as considerate. He shifted in his seat and leaned forward. ‘Well?’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing to tell.’ Nate shot Zeev a warning stare urging him to back off.

  ‘Are you mad? You know why the tithes are here.’

  Nate knew. He’d spent the previous year and the year before that collecting Shemyaza’s tithes.

  Sumer still believed the earth was as flat as bread without yeast but she’d never left Hermonial’s borders. To reach Barakel, they’d travelled further than he’d gone before and though Shemyaza insisted the world was shaped like an orb, he couldn’t help keeping his eye on the horizon.

  He hadn’t wanted any tithes on board longer than necessary so after Barakel they’d returned via Talamu, Palasu, Nadanu and Kasadu, all habitations along the coastline of Alme, a territory closer to Hermonial conquered long ago.

  Before reaching the river Buranuna they’d collected the final tithes from Ana Sepiya, a small city reaping the rewards of Shemyaza’s favour. As with each conquered territory, Shemyaza renamed it. Ana Sepiya meant at my feet and he’d wondered how long it might be before someone enlightened Shayla.

  Regardless of how he felt, the tithes would first be tested, then trained and this time, now Shemyaza’s sons were old enough, they’d become their brides.

  ‘Of course, I know,’ Nate snapped.

  They sat in silence, taking swigs of beer that no longer refreshed Nate’s thirst. ‘I’m sorry, Zeev,’ he said, stifling a yawn. ‘Maybe you should check on the guards. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.’

  ‘It’s good to have you home,’ Zeev said, before leaving.

  Nate picked at the food delivered to him before laying on his bed. He could see through the cut hole in the rock wall, the Star of Dignity, shining bright in the darkening sky.

  After that first night with Mirah standing under the stars beside him, he’d craved to be near her again. She hadn’t even realised she’d shone brighter than them all.

  Many times on dark ocean nights he’d dreamed of helping her escape, he’d even dared to dream of escaping with her. His heart had leaped at those dangerous dreams but the morning light always delivered the obvious truth. They might have escaped Bishnor, but he’d never escape Shemyaza.

 

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