The Sword

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The Sword Page 18

by Bryan M. Litfin


  “Don’t worry, I’ll get you home eventually. But first we have to find the trésor.”

  “What’s a trésor?”

  “The word I found carved on the lamb. It was written very small. You’d have to climb up there to see it. You were right—the eye was a signal to look closer.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “It’s a word in the Fluid Tongue of the Ancients. In our language it means treasure.”

  “Treasure! Maybe there’s treasure buried around here somewhere!”

  “Perhaps, but where? This is a pretty big place.”

  Ana scanned the spacious hall. “If I were an Ancient, where would I bury my treasure?”

  “There’s no way we’ll find it. The building is far too big. We’d still be searching for it next summer! I know you don’t want that.”

  “Maybe there’s another clue in the painting?”

  “No, I examined it thoroughly. There’s nothing more.”

  “Then where else might you look, Professor?”

  Teo shrugged. Ana pointed over his shoulder at the fresco on the right. “You haven’t looked at that one yet.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Not a bad idea.”

  Teo scaled a different column until he was balanced in front of the bearded man with the upraised knife. He inspected the painting for a long time. Finally he waved to Ana and pointed to the boy in the picture. “The other carvings were etched onto the sacrifices—the bread and the lamb. So I would expect to find something on the boy being sacrificed here. However, I’ve looked at it closely, and there’s nothing.”

  “I don’t think the boy is the sacrifice.”

  “What? Clearly he is. He’s bound. The man’s about to slit his neck.”

  “No, look again, Captain. The god is stopping him. See his hand from heaven? There’s another sacrifice in the scene.”

  Teo was silent. Nodding his head, he squatted on the column’s capital and studied the ram at the man’s feet. Satisfied, he jumped to the floor. Ana approached him expectantly.

  “What did you find?”

  “I hope you don’t mind heights,” Teo said. “We need to get to the roof.”

  Teo was breathing hard as he climbed one step after another. It had taken some time to locate the spiral staircase, but eventually he found the entrance on the temple’s exterior. Now he regretted the weight of the rope looped over his shoulders, which he had retrieved from his gear because of his prior experience on a rickety staircase of the Ancients. Certainly there was nothing rickety about this one. It was made of solid stone, built to last the ages.

  “I think we’re getting close!” he yelled over his shoulder. Ana was several stories below him because she kept stopping at every window to admire the view, making gushy noises. Teo, on the other hand, wanted to press on to the goal.

  He reached a balcony, thinking he had made it to the top. But more stairs awaited at the far end, so he kept plodding upward.

  At last he reached a room that housed two giant wooden wheels. He leaned against the wall to catch his breath. Before long, Ana came trudging up the final steps. Her cheeks were flushed pink. The effect was rather nice.

  “What—are those—big wheels?” she asked between breathy gasps.

  “I’m not sure. They look like waterwheels at a mill.”

  Ana reflected for a moment, catching her wind. “Maybe the Ancients would grind grain for sacrifices on the rooftop?”

  “Perhaps. Whatever it was, something big and heavy used to turn up here. Let’s go outside.”

  The sun was lowering in the sky when Teo and Ana emerged onto the roof. They found themselves on a three-sectioned platform directly above the three great entrances on the ground below. One section was occupied by the temple’s spire, which reached into the sky. The opposite section contained no spire, only a squat building that served as the exit of the spiral staircase they had just ascended. The middle section held the flat viewing deck where they now stood. The entire platform capped an ornate tower, so it was much higher than the copper roof of the great hall, which they could see below them. The lofty height afforded expansive views of the lost city, with its red rooftops peeking from the trees that had engulfed the buildings.

  “How high do you think we are?” Ana asked.

  “I counted 330 steps.”

  Teo and Ana walked to the edge of the roof. “Even if we don’t find any treasure,” she said, leaning on the railing, “just being up here is enough for me.” She lifted her chin to the breeze with her eyes closed, inhaling deeply through her nose, letting the moment take her away.

  Teo looked sideways at the woman standing next to him. The wind toyed with her honey-colored hair, and the afternoon sunshine gave it an amber tint. Ana’s high cheekbones were still flushed, and her dark lashes seemed impossibly long as they brushed her cheeks. As for her lips—well, they were the kind of lips to make a man look twice. Teo knew Anastasia was savoring the temple’s exquisite beauty, but to him, the real work of beauty was an arm’s length away.

  Cut it out, Teo, warned a voice in his head. Keep your mind on the mission: return the girl to her parents.

  “Shall we search for the treasure?” he asked.

  Ana awoke from her reverie. “Yes! What exactly did you see carved into that painting?”

  “No doubt you’ve noticed this temple is lopsided?”

  “You mean how there’s a spire on only one side?”

  “Right. Up here on this platform I’d expect twin spires. There should be one over there.” Teo pointed to the southern section of the roof.

  “But there’s not,” Ana agreed. “Just on the north. So what did the carving show?”

  “It was simply a box with a point on it, like this.” Teo stooped and arranged four twigs in a rectangle standing on its short side. On top of it—on the left side only—he laid two twigs to form a point.

  “A diagram of the temple from the front,” Ana said, kneeling beside Teo. “We’re standing here on top. Anything else?”

  “Yes. There was an X where the point rises from the box.” He gestured at his twigs. “In other words, at the base of the spire, where it meets this roof!”

  Ana looked at Teo with her eyebrows arched and her mouth open. She jumped up and ran to the spire, touching the stone with her hand. Teo joined her, and they wandered along its base, looking for anything unusual.

  “Any luck?” Teo called.

  “No, nothing. Wait! Look at this!”

  Teo came and peered over Ana’s shoulder as she knelt inside a niche in the spire. On the floor, markings had been carved into the flagstone. “A cross!” Teo exclaimed. “And letters!”

  Ana turned her head and looked up at Teo. “What does it say?”

  “It doesn’t make sense to me. It says, ‘J.D. MMXLV.”’

  “I don’t know what that means, but let’s lift this stone!” Ana began to clear the dirt from its edge.

  “Let me do it.” Ana moved aside as Teo dug around the stone with his knife. Soon he was able to slip the blade underneath to pry it up.

  “You found the treasure, Anastasia. You look.”

  Ana bent to the hole and squinted into the darkness. “I see something!” As she reached for it, Teo realized even his atheistic heart was beating more rapidly than usual. He told himself it was nothing more than the scholar’s joy of discovery.

  Ana lifted a strongbox from the hole. A broad smile lit her face, and she could barely contain her girlish enthusiasm. “What do you think it is?” she asked, clapping her hands together.

  “Let’s find out.” Teo gave the lock a whack with his ax and lifted the lid. Inside, he found a package wrapped in cloth and string. Judging from the decay of the cloth, the package was very, very old.

  “Open it!”

  Teo unfolded the cloth to find a strange bag inside. It was clear like glass, yet flexible like fabric. Along one edge was a seal. He had never seen anything like it.

  “I could think of a lot of use
s for a bag like that,” Ana remarked.

  Teo broke the seal on the bag and removed a rectangular, paper-wrapped object. As he carefully opened the folded paper, Ana recognized what it was. “A book!”

  The volume was bound in fine leather, its pages gilt along their edges. The first two-thirds of the book had survived the years well. The pages were in good condition despite the passage of time. However, the final third had gotten wet and moldy at some point, and the thin pages were destroyed.

  As Teo flipped the book over, he heard Ana’s sharp intake of breath when she saw what was on the cover. There was a cross and two words Teo had seen before: Écriture Sacrée. “Sacred Writing,” he translated aloud. He felt a thrill rush though his body. “Do you realize what this is, Anastasia?”

  “Yes! It’s the holy book of the Ancients’ high god!”

  “It’s the scholarly discovery of a lifetime! I’ll be the envy of every professor in Lekovil!”

  From Ana’s crestfallen expression, Teo guessed she didn’t care too much about groundbreaking scholarship. “What’s that paper sticking out?” she asked.

  Teo extracted a loose sheet from between the pages. It was written in the Fluid Tongue. Time had faded the ink so that all but the last few lines were illegible. He squinted at the faint handwriting and slowly translated for Ana:

  . . . the Word of Dieu cannot die. I have hidden this Book in the church as a treasure for you. Only if you are led by Dieu himself could you have found it. O finder, may the Eternal One bless you. I give you a precious gift—the Sacred Scripture. Know this: the truth will set you free.

  My name is Jacques Dalsace. Remember me! By the grace of Dieu, I have shared with you the gift of rebirth. Soli Deo Gloria. Amen.

  Teo looked up from the paper. “That’s all it says.”

  “Teofil, did you hear that? The letter gives us the god’s name! It names the high god of the Ancients! He’s called—how did you say it? Die . . . dei . . .”

  “I think it would be pronounced ‘Deu’ in our speech.”

  “Deu.” Ana practiced the sound. “Deu. I like it. I want to know more of him.”

  Teo slapped his forehead. “No—you can’t!”

  “What? Why not?”

  Teo gripped Ana by the shoulders, and she seemed taken aback by his change in tone. Her desire to know more about Deu had jogged Teo’s memory, reminding him of his conversation with the monk Lewth, who had been terrified at the prospect of being connected with this religion.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. But in all the excitement I forgot: this faith is prohibited in Chiveis! The Astrebrilian monks curse the god of the cross in their chants, but no one else can know about him. The High Priestess hates him. She forbids his name to become known.”

  “No, that can’t be! I want to know everything about this god. I have to learn more!”

  “Anastasia, listen to me. You cannot speak of this. Do you want the High Priestess coming after you?” Ana shuddered. “Then you have to keep this book a secret! Here’s what I can do—I’ll make you a private translation of it as soon as we get back. Well, actually, I might not get to that project right away because—” He paused, smiling ruefully and shaking his head.

  “Because what?”

  “Because I’m going to be in a little trouble with the Warlord when I go home. I’m not exactly supposed to be on this mission. It’s what we might call unauthorized.”

  “Yet very much appreciated, Captain Teofil,” Ana said. “Even more so now that I know it comes at a cost to you.”

  “To be honest, I never considered anything else. There was no question but that I’d come for you, Anastasia. The point is, the Warlord won’t be pleased when I return. I imagine he’s going to assign me to a nasty winter post as punishment. Probably some cold hut on the frontier, keeping watch on the passes until the spring thaw. So I won’t be able to do any translation work right away. But when I get back to Lekovil, I promise to turn my attention to the book. Then you can have your words of spiritual comfort, and I can satisfy my scholar’s curiosity.”

  “Okay, Teofil, I can live with that. I won’t say a word to anyone about the Sacred Writing. But I have your promise: you’ll eventually give me the holy words of Deu.”

  “Yes, yes, I promise. I’ll give you what you want. Hail to the great Deu and all that.” Teo waved his hands. Ana frowned at his inept joke.

  From far below, the faint sound of a horse’s nicker reached Teo’s ears. A sinking feeling began to gather in his gut. That’s the sound a horse makes when it senses a threat.

  Teo crept to the edge of the roof and looked over. When he turned back toward Ana, his expression must have been grim, for the color drained from her face, and she rushed to his side.

  “What is it? What did you see?” Ana’s fear was palpable.

  “Outsiders. They’ve found us again.”

  Ana had started down the spiral staircase when she heard the echoes of rough voices reverberating up the steps. She turned toward Teo, and he motioned her back to the roof. Ramming the door shut with his shoulder, he braced it with a piece of steel railing that would take some work to dislodge.

  “Now what?” Ana felt the butterflies flitting in her stomach as panic began to rise. “There’s no other way down!”

  “There is another way.”

  Ana scanned Teo’s face, searching for the answer. When he pulled the coil of rope from his shoulder, her stomach jumped, and her butterflies turned into outright nausea.

  “No! I can’t do that. I’m terrified of heights!”

  Teo came to her, putting his hands on her cheeks, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You can do it. I’ll help you. It’s the only way.”

  She trembled as she watched Teo tie the rope to the railing and drop it over the back of the tower platform. He turned to her, beckoning with his hand.

  “I can’t!”

  “You must! There’s no time!”

  She approached the railing and peeked over. The rope’s end dangled in the breeze, very far above the green copper roof of the temple’s great hall.

  “It’s not long enough!”

  “I know. I had to, uh, use some before.”

  “It’s too far to drop!”

  “We’ll have to improvise. Climb onto my back, and hold on tight.”

  Ana backed away, waving her hands. Her breath was coming in shallow pants. Behind her, the sound of angry men rattling the door forced her decision. Leaping onto Teo’s back, she clasped his chest in the tightest bear hug she could manage. She wrapped her legs around him and intertwined her feet.

  “I trust you,” she said, closing her eyes. And then they went over the wall.

  The helpless feeling of swaying in midair on the thin rope made Ana feel like she was about to faint. Her forehead was sweating profusely, and not just from exertion. She opened an eye and peeked over her shoulder. It’s so far down! Help me! Her heart pounded in her chest.

  As they neared the end of the rope, the wind picked up, and a pendulum effect began to swing them back and forth in increasing arcs. Ana’s stomach swam, and she felt she was about to vomit.

  They lurched to an abrupt stop. Ana shrieked. Teofil had grabbed an indentation in the wall to arrest their swaying motion.

  She heard men shouting from above. Something whizzed past her ear and clanged off the copper roof below. They’re shooting at us!

  “We’re at the end of the rope! Jump!”

  “It’s too far! I can’t!”

  “You can make it!”

  “I can’t!” Another arrow flew past.

  “Climb down my body and hang from my feet! Augh!” Teo grunted as blood spattered onto Ana’s cheek.

  “What is it?” she cried.

  “Nothing! Climb down!”

  Ana slid down Teo’s torso, squeezing his legs in her arms. Finally she hung from his ankles, her arms extended. She saw empty space beneath her feet.

  “Drop!”

  With the loudest
squeal she had ever uttered, she did.

  Ana hit the copper roof to the left of its central ridge, tumbling down its pitched surface until she came to rest at a parapet along its eave. She rolled over to look up at Teo. She couldn’t believe what she saw.

  The captain had climbed hand over hand partway up the rope. Even at this distance, she noticed the blood glistening on his head. She watched, horrified, as he pulled his hunting knife from his boot and put it to the rope. No! Not from there! It’s too high! He slit the rope. She gasped.

  It must have been only a few seconds, but to Ana it seemed Teo fell through the air for an age. She saw his lean body plummeting down, down, down until he smashed into the roof on the far side of the central ridge and she could no longer see him.

  Some of the outsiders had descended from the tower platform, and now they emerged on a much lower balcony not far from Ana’s position on the roof of the great hall. With a yelp she leaped to her feet and ran along the eave. Arrows flew past her, but she ignored them and kept running until she reached the opposite end of the building. Now what?

  A scrambling sound made her turn her head. Teofil slid down the roof’s steep pitch and hobbled to her side. His thick hair was matted with blood.

  “You’re hurt!”

  “Got grazed by an arrow and twisted my ankle. I’ll shake it off. Come on! We’re not out of this yet! Over the side!”

  “Where?” Ana felt sick at the thought of more precarious dangling.

  “See those arches? You’re going to slide down that one!”

  Like the wings of a bird, the arches flew from the temple’s sides as they buttressed the weight of its stone ceiling. Teo gripped Ana’s wrist and lowered her over the parapet, while her free hand and her feet sought traction on the crumbling wall. She slipped, dropped a short way, and smacked her rear end on a bumpy protuberance. Easing her body over it, she straddled the flying buttress. The bump was a rainspout shaped like a wild boar, and it gaped at her in mute disdain as she slid away from it on her belly. At the end of the smooth, downward arc, she scrambled onto a much lower green roof.

 

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