“Elder Hosdaq, you’re dressed for ceremony. Had we known, mayhaps we could’ve donned our fine garb as well,” Vot said, raising his cup.
“This is a day of special significance, I’m told. I believe the fate of everyone in Bandari hangs upon the feeblest of filaments and the shifting lusts of a young man’s loins. Such important affairs deserve the appropriate attire and attention,” Hosdaq said, popping a piece of bread in his mouth.
“Do you mock these issues?” Olam asked.
“Elders, I do not mock. I’ve given our circumstances careful consideration. It’s the importance of this day and it’s decisions that demanded such honor. We can only hope that our guests understand the consequences of those decisions. Being led by our hearts usually leads to ruin, but when we allow reason and logic to lead, the outcome is more desirable. We must give wise counsel, despite our predilection for the amatory. It isn’t our place to instruct, but we are meant to guide.”
“Indeed,” Huname said. “We are here to guide. Everyone in Bandari has the right to choose. Each of us made a choice long ago to begin a new life here. That wasn’t due to force or coercion, nor can anyone force us from here.”
“No, Elder, on that you’re mistaken.” Hosdaq smirked. “Yes, we decided to build here after Hyorin was destroyed, but are we not seeking a new home now? Is this due to our choice? No. We’re being forced from our home by the choice of another. No one wants to leave our home, and we haven’t willingly decided to do so. So, we’re leaving not from choice, but out of necessity and self-preservation. Ofttimes we need to do what’s necessary, above what’s preferred.”
“You’re not wrong,” Emet said. “To preserve what we’ve built, it might become necessary to abandon our home. Although, some might choose to remain in Bandari, and it would be their right to do so. We don’t force or forbid, Elder. The Hosdaq of past seasons, the one I admired would know this.”
Hosdaq’s head snapped up, and Emet continued. “Elder, we aren’t minimalizing your concerns. All of our fates are intertwined. However, this decision isn’t ours. Olam’s visions have revealed more than what Brahanu and Pentanimir know. Allow them the same curtesy that was afforded to you. Allow them to choose.”
Pentanimir remained kneeling when the door creaked open. He held Brahanu’s hand to his chest, watching the rhythm of her breathing. She seemed comfortable now and free from pain. He smiled wistfully, dabbing her forehead again, and moistening her lips.
“How’s Brahanu?” Nzuri asked, entering with the Elders.
“She’s resting peacefully now,” Pentanimir said. “I gave her the tincture when she awakened not long ago. Since your leave, her stomach has calmed and the pain lessened.”
Brahanu nodded weakly as he approached the bed.
“I’ve brought some more kuzbarah oil and a tea you’ll need to drink,” Nzuri said. “The fever steals fluid from the body, and you’ll need to replenish it. I’ll be in the dawa with Saifu if you need me. The Elders wish words with you now.”
“Thank you,” Brahanu said. “For all that you’ve done.”
“The pleasure was mine, my lady,” he said, leaving them to talk.
“Brahanu, are you well enough to speak with us?” Huname asked.
“I’m tired, but I can manage.”
Olam nodded. “Pentanimir, we spoke many seasons ago about numerous future events and others from your past that I shouldn’t have known. You didn’t believe everything I revealed, but you did listen. When you returned, you admitted that those tellings or visions came to pass. Do you remember?”
“I do, Elder.”
“I’ve had another partial vision. It’s my belief that the rest of that vision depends upon you.”
“Upon me?”
“Yes,” Olam said. “This road has two paths. Until one is chosen, the complete vision can’t be revealed. It’s like a tale with alternate endings: the decision is what determines the outcome. That decision belongs to you. But the battle waging inside of you is hindering that choice and obfuscating my vision.”
“But Elder—”
“It’s not an admonition or an easy road. Your heart is in conflict with your mind, First Chosen. You must still your thoughts and realign your spirit.”
“These pointless riddles are causing delay,” Hosdaq interrupted. “Speak plainly, Olam. Isn’t this why we’re here. Tell them your vision so that they can decide.”
“Please, Elders, tell us. If we’re a part of this…this vision, we must know,” Brahanu said, pushing up in the bed.
“Yes,” Pentanimir agreed. “Is there peril ahead?”
“Peril, jubilance...who’s to say with certainty? Your decisions will dictate events. Within these events lie both, for there can’t be one without the other,” Olam said. “Pentanimir, you’re the First Chosen of Nazil, yet you are in love with Brahanu.” Olam raised his hand to silence any retort. “I knew this before your arrival. Never have I felt such a prevalent impression.”
Brahanu swallowed hard, clasping Pentanimir’s hand. “I was in your vision, Elder?”
“You were, yet I only saw a shadow at your side, one who would guide and protect you. That shadow was Pentanimir. Mayhaps it wasn’t until he submitted to the will of the One god that his face was revealed. There’s always choice, and choice predicts outcome.”
“But Elder, I didn’t hesitate to aid Brahanu.”
“Whether you realize it or not, Pentanimir, you did consider another path. This wouldn’t have led you directly here with Brahanu, but another in your place. It wasn’t the aid that was to be decided, but he who would provide it.”
Pentanimir gazed off in contemplation, recalling the events of that night. The voices, images, and conversations rushed through his mind like a torrential current in a storm. With a gasp, he met Olam’s eyes.
“Ah, it’s come back to you,” Olam said. “Choice predicts outcome. The sight showed your coming here, but the shadow was a decision yet to be made.”
“You cannot relive what has passed in hopes of changing it,” Huname said. “Take comfort in knowing that you made the correct choice.”
“The Elder speaks true,” Olam said. “We must focus on the present as we prepare for the future. Whether near or far, it starts with this day.
“Brahanu, I feel the love that you hold for Pentanimir. When our head priest, Kuhani, came to you, his merge allowed him an unambiguous glimpse into your mind and heart. The ease of your acceptance of him joining his mind to yours only amplified the truth already known. The intensity of your emotion is overpowering, and this is why you’re confused and afraid. You’re conflicted between the love of another, and your passion for the First Chosen.”
She only nodded, lowering her gaze.
“This isn’t a thing of shame. Love is one of the greatest gifts that we can bestow upon another.”
Olam stepped closer, lowering his voice. “It was this same love that caused you to become one with each other.”
Brahanu gasped, burying her face in her hands. As she continued to weep, Pentanimir embraced her.
“Do you attempt to shame her?” Pentanimir asked, angrily. “I’m to blame for this, not her. Why would you say this, Olam, why?”
“I speak only what’s necessary, First Chosen. We shame no one by speaking truth. Some truths are sharp, but they must be faced regardless of their edge.
“You’ve set important events into motion. Right or wrong the choice, the consequence forever follows. Remember that,” he said, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“What I must reveal will be difficult, but it’s the most prevalent vision, and it’s come to me often. The reoccurrence of a vision is powerful. Of everything I’ve said, this is of the greatest importance,” Olam said, meeting their eyes.
“Brahanu, you are with child.”
Whores and Honor
Danimore pulled up on his reins, staring out over the city. The trip to the temple would be far too short and he dreaded meeting with his uncle. Beil
zen’s visit was a presage to this, and the chill trickling down his spine confirmed that feeling. Danimore had already begun contemplating his responses concerning Zeta. Although, such preparation wasn’t truly necessary. Oxilon’s umbrage would be prevalent, regardless of his explanation. But on this, he would not be moved.
The cloud-covered sky was still grey with the threat of more storms. He skirted puddles on the cobbled streets, his horse clopping past the Kadul in the city’s center. Danimore paused, admiring the ornate marble pit. It had stood since Nazil’s beginning, and remained one of the most exquisite features of the city. He’d only witnessed the Kadul’s ceremonial fires once. The hickory smoke-filled air lingered about the city and his memory. Although he was aware of the solemn significance of the Kadul’s flames, its beauty was as no other.
Danimore turned, an approaching horse pulling him from his thoughts.
“Nakaris.” He smiled. “Good morrow to you. Has your duty ended?”
“It has. The night was long, my friend. The early cold is upon us. Yael should have eggs, crispy bacon, and warm bread prepared. Would you care to break your fast with us?”
“Many thanks, but I’ve broken my fast and need to meet my uncle.”
“Broken your fast? Not pottage again? You’re a high lord, Danimore, but still eat as one of the Lowers,” he chuckled. “Enjoy some comforts that come with your position.”
“I enjoy much, Nakaris. Pottage warms the body and fills the belly. My mother prepared it often, and that memory warms me as well.”
“Forgive my jest, Dani. I didn’t mean to offend, and I remember your sweet mother well.”
“She embraced you as her son, just as you are my brother,” Danimore said. “Don’t worry about my meals, I’ll be stopping by the market once my meeting is at an end. I’ll have a fine meal tonight.”
“Your cooking skills must be much improved. Last I knew muladorn stew, fish, and pottage were all you could manage.”
Danimore chuckled. “I won’t be doing the cooking. We have a new attendant, and she’ll prepare the meals.”
“Truly? I might just have to stop by some time. Now that the food will be edible, I can quit making excuses.” Nakaris laughed, turning his mount. “I’ll speak with you again, Dani, for now, my wife awaits.”
“Give her and your son my regards. I promise to visit soon.”
Nakaris raised up a hand, kicking his heels into his mount.
Of all those in Nazil, Danimore felt Nakaris his truest friend. Nakaris would look commanding to most. He stood tall and muscular like his uncle, and was just as imposing. But his heart was true, and Nakaris loved Danimore as a brother, as he in turn loved him.
He smiled, passing the bustling marketplace. Merchants called out, trying to make a sale, but his thoughts were elsewhere, speeding his way to the temple. The clopping sounds of hoof beats soon drowned out the clamor of the market. His rapid pace slowed, marveling at the exquisite edifice. It was the same each time he passed. The gods of Nazil looked fierce upon their plinths: War, Power, Courage, and Judgment, the epigraph beneath telling of each. “Honor Above All,” he said, moving beneath the archway where the same was engraved.
After leaving his horse with the handlers and being granted passage, Danimore inclined his head, stepping through the barred door past the sanctuary. As he continued down the corridor, Allister d’Garrion stepped out from his chamber. The elder scribe had an arm full of parchments as he made his way, peering over his spectacles.
“Greetings, Sir Benoist.” The man, still handsome despite his years, offered a warm smile.
“Greetings,” Danimore said, continuing his pace.
“Sir Benoist, a moment,” Allister called after him. “My daughter has requested that you join us for evening meal, and I promised to ask when next I saw you.”
Danimore smiled, knowing he meant well. Everyone in Nazil was aware that Nikolina favored Danimore for pledge, and he avoided Allister for just that reason. It wasn’t because Nikolina was unattractive: the opposite was true. Danimore had no interest in a wife; not yet. But he would honor Allister d’Garrion’s invitation. Allister was one of the few men in Nazil that Danimore truly respected.
“There’s much happening in the city of late, Sir d’Garrion. If it pleases you, I’d be honored to sup with you five suns hence. I’ll have duty until then.”
Allister’s smile broadened. “The honor will be ours, Sir Benoist. Nikolina will be pleased.”
“As will I,” Danimore said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with my uncle.”
“Oh, yes. Indeed, Sir Benoist. Thank you.”
Once Allister disappeared down the corridor, Danimore took a deep and steadying breath. Acknowledging the guards beside the doors, he fidgeted with his clothing and hair, waiting for them to finish announcing him.
“Uncle, Cha Reaglen,” Danimore said respectfully, entering the room.
Reaglen smiled, motioning for him to sit. “Please, will you take refreshment?”
“No, thank you, Cha. I’m quite satisfied.”
“Danimore,” Oxilon said. “I’ve just come from a meeting with the Zaxson, and we have much to discuss. Against my advice, he’s selected you to accompany Pentanimir upon his return.”
“Me? What would the Zaxson have of us, Uncle?”
“He needs a report of the wood at the foot of the Dessalonian Mountains.”
“What does the Zaxson wish to learn?”
“If the land is adequate, it’ll be home to the next Nazilian city. With protection from the mountains and the Raphar, it would make an excellent stronghold. Pentanimir will lead a party of four. Beilzen and Nakaris will accompany you.”
“Beilzen? That knave doesn’t have any experience with such matters. Pentanimir won’t even assign him to our patrols. Mayhaps Yannick, Velnic or Elodie would be a better choice.”
“I alone will decide who’s to accompany Pentanimir. Beilzen will serve my purpose well. He’s loyal to Nazil and to me.”
“Your nephew raises a valid point, Oxilon. Beilzen has taken no assignment away from the city. His skill as a tracker is lacking, as is his prowess. He didn’t even have enough strength to execute a full draw at the last tourney. We all know that you trust in young de Braose, yet no one else shares that confidence. Had you not elevated his position, he’d still be assisting Perrin with the temple’s finances. He may prove to slow or impede the project. Is it your final decision to send him on an assignment of this importance?”
“With all due respect, Cha, if Beilzen de Braose isn’t allowed the opportunity to gain experience, how do we expect him to improve his skills?” There was acid in Oxilon’s tone. “Besides, the Zaxson gave me the choice of who’s to serve. With the exception of Pentanimir and Danimore, the selection was mine. If I didn’t have need of Yannick, I would’ve chosen him.”
“As you say,” Reaglen shrugged, regarding Danimore. “There’s another matter we must discuss. The Zaxson mentioned the gift he bestowed upon your household. Usually, there’d be no question as to motive regarding such matters. However, your uncle has a great concern, and has brought that concern to my attention.”
Danimore peered at his uncle. His arms were folded across his broad chest, consternation on his face.
“Uncle, what’s your concern?” Danimore asked, feigning ignorance.
“You shame our home with this whore and ask of concern?”
“Whore? I don’t understand.”
“Just because you’ve never lain with a woman doesn’t mean you can’t understand the meaning of the word whore. Are you that daft?”
“I’m far from daft, and Zeta is no whore. Before our soldiers took her, she was maiden and pledged. After her capture she became pregnant, and the babe’s father is Nazilian. How do you name her a whore when rape is what caused her condition?”
Oxilon stood, slamming a hand down on the table. “How dare you speak with such insolence in this temple! Do you raise this whore above those of you
r own blood? She gave herself freely thinking it would save her from service. She’s filth, and everyone knows it. She’s swallowed the cock of every guard and slave in the citadel. Now, she serves in the home of one pledged to the Zaxson’s daughter! It’s outrageous, and I’ll not have it!”
“What say you of this, Danimore?” Reaglen asked, calmly.
“Lady Denotra, Lord Daracus, and the Zaxson himself were displeased with Zeta’s service,” Danimore said. “Pentanimir and I are but two. Zeta’s duties are significantly decreased, and I’ve aided the Zaxson’s family as well. When I came upon Zeta in the citadel, she’d been severely beaten. Accepting her as our attendant was a kindness, not only for Zeta, but more importantly, for our leader. She works well, and I’ve found no fault with her.”
Cha Reaglen shrugged. “Oxilon, I see no reason for the Cha to take possession of the girl. In her state, we couldn’t continue her use for even our purge. It’s true that she angered the Zaxson’s family and her discipline came swiftly and often. If Danimore is pleased with her service, there’s little that I can do.”
Oxilon’s face darkened. “What about the child? That abomination can’t be allowed to live.”
“Uncle, what’s to be gained by killing a babe? Are we such monsters now that we take the lives of innocents?”
“Innocents? It’s our way, or have you forgotten? Your blood is thin, indeed.”
“My blood is the same as yours, Uncle. I’m Nazilian and honor my heritage. That doesn’t include the killing of innocent children.”
“Innocent! Honor is above all. Had you been a Chosen, you’d understand that truth.”
“I don’t need to be a Chosen to understand honor or to be honorable. My father and brother both served as First Chosen’s and neither would murder a child…human or no,” he said, standing. “I serve my Zaxson and Nazil with honor, as all in my family have. What I won’t do is forswear my morality to satiate someone’s malignant proclivity. Our gods don’t demand such deaths, those commands come from the prejudices of the men claiming to serve them.”
The Rise of Nazil Page 11