The Cult of Sutek

by Joshua P. Simon

How noble.

  “So, I am to be a prisoner?”

  “Until the Heka. Then you will be a participant.”

  “I would never participate.”

  “You really don’t have a choice.” He nodded to Haji. “Take her to the chamber with the others.”

  “Wait,” said Dendera, trying to jerk her arm away from the captain’s grip as he pulled her back. “Will I be released after the Heka?”

  Menetnashte smiled. “In a sense.”

  “Wh—”

  “Silence,” hissed the captain while dragging her through the door. “You should consider yourself lucky that Sutek’s high priest would even speak to you. Quiet or I will keep the promise I made to you on the road.”

  They reached the chamber after several winding twists and turns, most of which led her farther into the mountain fortress.

  They stopped at a door guarded by two men, each carrying a spear. The guards opened the door and pushed her inside without a word before shutting it.

  Dendera froze inside the vast chamber filled with dozens of young girls. The young girls all dressed in simple white gowns, smelling of lavender. Many had been sitting or lying down but all rose to their feet and turned toward her.

  Unlike the rest of the rooms and passages she had traveled, she could see that this place had been created naturally. Four large stalagmites rose from the ground some ten feet at the room’s center. Up higher, smaller stalactites descended downward like giant drops of water.

  A sobering thought struck her as her attention returned to the hopeless expressions of the girls.

  “Gods, what are we here for?” she whispered, the question was one she meant to speak to herself, but in her alarm said it aloud.

  “That’s an answer you may not wish to learn,” came a voice to Dendera’s right.

  A young woman with black hair, deep brown eyes, and perfectly tanned skin walked toward her.

  The Emperor’s daughter.

  “Princess Oni?”

  Oni nodded as she approached, stopping several feet from Dendera. “Given Menetnashte’s dislike of your father, I knew it was only a matter of time before he sought you too. I had hoped you might have been able to get away. But I should have known better. It’s impossible to run from the cult.”

  Dendera blinked away her daze. Though her head spun by all that she had seen since reaching the mountain, the shock of seeing so many young women held against their wills, the Emperor’s daughter among them, sent her mind reeling with questions.

  “I . . . What . . .” started Dendera, unsure what to say next.

  Oni reached out and gave her a warm embrace she did not expect. It brought her comfort. Oni released her and took her hand. “Let’s find a seat. We have much to talk about.”

  * * *

  Andrasta came at Rondel in a flurry of cuts and thrusts. He shuffled back, ducking and weaving away from her darting blade. Occasionally, he managed to deflect an attack with his sword, but not once did he have time to counter. He stepped into a hole and fell. He expected Andrasta to give him a moment to right himself. He looked up with barely enough time to dive away from her descending sword.

  Rondel rolled to his feet. “By the gods, are you trying to kill me?”

  Andrasta renewed her attacks, faster than before. Rondel ceased with shuffling, practically running backward to avoid the blows, maneuvering all around the space they fought.

  “What’s the matter with you?” he yelled.

  Andrasta’s even breathing contrasted against his racing heart as she drove him back with cold eyes narrowed. Never had the woman come at him while carrying the look of death she wore when facing others.

  She’s lost it. And I’m going to die. In the past such a revelation may have caused him to falter and give up. No. Never again.

  Rondel lunged in desperation. Andrasta tapped his blade aside. He stepped to the left, swinging his sword up to her head. She blocked it. He tried to twist away before Andrasta countered, but she caught his wrist and disarmed him. In one fluid motion, she spun him around, came up from behind, and rested the edge of her sword against his throat.

  Rondel held his breath.

  Just get it over with.

  She released him. “Your defense has improved. However, you still let your emotions get the best of you when you attack. We will need to focus more on that.”

  “Wait, what? That was all a test?”

  “Of course.”

  “Gods, I thought you were trying to kill me!”

  “If I wanted to kill you, you would have been dead long ago.”

  “Then why not tell me it was a test? You’re never that intense unless you’re trying to disembowel someone.”

  “Because people fight differently when they think their life is on the line. I wanted to judge you by that.”

  “You’re insane.”

  She shrugged and walked away.

  “Unbelievable,” he muttered before following after her. A thought struck him. “Wait a minute. You gave me a compliment.”

  She gave him a confused look.

  “You did. You said my defense had improved significantly.”

  “I never said significantly. I also said your offense is not where it should be.”

  “Regardless,” he said, huffing for air. “You gave me a compliment and the moment we come across a quill and ink, I’m marking the occasion.”

  Andrasta came to a halt. She ignored his remark. “Go and run. Your breathing is too heavy from our sparring.”

  Rondel scowled while noticing she favored one side. “Fine. But you need to rest.”

  “I have to train on my own.”

  “You’re not helping yourself heal by training that hard with an injury.”

  “Still, I must.”

  “Why do you have an obligation to kill yourself each and every day? Is it because of what you said back in prison about women in Juntark being strong fighters? Are you trying to maintain their reputation?”

  “Piss on their reputation,” she spat.

  Rondel took a step back at her tone.

  “They should be concerned about tarnishing mine. Women in Juntark are only strong when it’s easy for them to be. They never make a stand if they think it’ll draw the ire of the men. The women of Juntark can rot in hell for all I care. The men too.”

  Gods, what brought that on? “But you said—”

  “I know what I said. I was trying to convince you to escape. I would have told you the sky was green if it would have worked.”

  Once more, I learn something new about her, but it answers none of the questions I had before. In fact, many are now irrelevant. He paused, quickly thinking of where to take the conversation. He wanted to ask her more about Juntark’s culture and the people she grew up with, but knew from past experience that if he pressed her, Andrasta would say no more. She likely only said what she did because I hit a nerve.

  Rondel cleared his throat. “All right. Then why do you push yourself so hard?”

  She stared back at him but said nothing.

  “Come on. Why are you so afraid to tell me anything?”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “Embarrassed then? It can’t be any worse than what you’ve learned about me.”

  Andrasta clenched her jaw, then relaxed. “I must be the best.”

  Rondel waited, but she said nothing more. “All right. I can understand that. I felt the same as a bard. I can’t tell you how many times I practiced until my fingers bled.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Then you understand. I cannot accept being second to anyone.”

  “So you’ve always trained this hard?”

  “No. Not long after I left Juntark I grew too confident and my training lapsed. I won’t allow that again.”

  “What sparked the renewed effort?”

  She looked down as if ashamed. Rondel had never seen her show that emotion before. “Fern.”

  “Duke Engren’s bodyguard?”

  She nodded.


  “But you won.”

  “Only after you helped.”

  “So?”

  “I could maybe accept defeat against multiple opponents, but with just one, there is no reason I should ever need help. I trained under the greatest fighter in all of Juntark, probably the world. I have all the tools I need to win and no excuse not to.”

  All this time I thought she was hard on me, but it was nothing compared to the pressure she places on herself. I guess that’s why she’s always in such a bad mood. Fighting her own inner demons.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Help with what?”

  “Well, you want to be the best. Let me help you train.”

  “You’re not good enough to help me train. I spar with you for your benefit, not mine.”

  “Don’t hold back or anything.”

  She grunted. “You aren’t dumb. You've improved, but you can see the difference between us. If you really want to help me, then keep working to improve yourself. It would be nice to count on at least one other person if we are able to find the girl.”

  “You’re not expecting Jahi to help?”

  “Why should I? He had his chance to prove himself and failed.”

  “It was probably his first fight where he needed to use sorcery. I doubt he’s killed a man before.”

  “You said your first time killing a man was when we escaped prison. And yet you didn’t freeze up.”

  “Well, I had a lot of hate driving me.” And I did knock myself unconscious during the actual killing part.

  “This cult has his sister. You’d think that would be more than enough. He knows what they are rumored to do to people.”Andrasta made a mocking gesture while looking around. “Even now, where is he? He should be practicing.”

  “He said he needed to do so alone. That’s why he’s been going off in the woods when we stop to rest.”

  “I care little about what he does alone. He needs to prove to me what he can do. Otherwise, I say we leave him behind. He’ll only make things harder on us.”

  “What does he need to do to prove himself to you?”

  “That depends. He needs to fight me. Even if he can’t use sorcery, perhaps I can teach him something with a sword.”

  “That does make sense. Let me go find him.”

  * * *

  Jahi stared at the pile of sticks at his feet while sitting on a half-rotted sycamore log. He stared into the sticks, seeing their dried fibers and lack of moisture. He widened his legs slightly and forced himself to go still. He always got fidgety before casting a spell, making it hard to focus.

  And I don’t have Dendera here to help me.

  He had tried the spell three times already and was interrupted each time by unwanted thoughts. His failure in helping with the bandits attacking Andrasta had shaken him.

  But I can do it this time.

  A long breath passed through his lips, then another.

  Slowly the tension melted away from his neck and shoulders until his entire body relaxed.

  Almost ready.

  The exercise in concentration was simple, one of the first things he learned from old texts Dendera snuck him after they had discovered his talent. She never told him how she obtained the items, but he knew every time a new book appeared his sister would suddenly be out of money.

  The texts had been written by famous sorcerers around the world in languages neither knew. They tricked their tutors into helping translate the works, and Jahi practiced the principles they were able to decipher.

  The steps he went through alone mirrored the very first spell he had attempted from those books. Late at night, in Dendera’s room, he had lit the wick of a candle using only his talent. He smiled, recalling the look of pride on his sister’s face when he had succeeded. His talent was something they shared in secrecy because so many in Iget condemned the practice of sorcery.

  Jahi sighed.

  He hated to admit it but, the talk about the mercenary sorcerer had gotten to him, maybe more than Rondel intended.

  He had used sorcery in his father’s great hall to provide light after the cult attacked his father and kidnapped Dendera. He had used sorcery when trying to intimidate Andrasta after escaping the dungeons. Before then, he performed spells of fire and earth regularly at night with Dendera at his side so his father would not learn of their secret.

  Plenty enough practice. Yet the two chances I had to use sorcery in a real fight, I failed.

  The first had been at Thabit’s room at the inn. Rondel needed help, but all Jahi could do was grab a pot and smash it across the back of the cultist’s head. The second came at the river when Andrasta and Rondel fought bandits. He had truly wanted to help, but could not will himself to cast even the simplest of spells.

  Jahi did not want to freeze up again and, if given the chance, be unable to help Dendera. But since the attack of the bandits, he had even greater trouble focusing.

  And Rondel’s story of failure only made it worse.

  His hands opened and closed in anger.

  I can’t believe I’m struggling with a few twigs. It’s like I’ve regressed by years in skill. Enough. Focus.This is just something in your head.

  He went through the ritual of calming himself once more, thankful it took less time. He reached out with his mind and felt the sticks with an invisible touch. He began the spell.

  “Jahi!”

  He jumped, kicking the sticks by accident.

  “Oh. Did I scare you?” Rondel asked, walking up behind him.

  Jahi turned, unable to mask his annoyance. He had drifted far from camp for both privacy and silence as the annoying sounds of Rondel and Andrasta sparring distracted him. “I was in the middle of something.”

  “Sorry.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Andrasta and I were talking. We want you to start training with us using a sword. Andrasta can show you things that would help in a bind.”

  Jahi swallowed his annoyance. What did I expect after failing them? “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “You’ve seen Andrasta fight. She knows what she’s doing.”

  “It’s not that. I was actually trained regularly by the captain of my father’s guard. He is my father’s best swordsman.”

  “Then maybe you can show her a thing or two.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’d really like to get back to what I was doing.”

  “Sorcery?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any success?”

  Jahi grimaced. “Not yet, but—”

  “Well, then it sounds like you need a break to clear your head. What better way to do that than to do something physical and get the blood flowing?” he asked, voice lined with excitement.

  Before Jahi could respond, Rondel grabbed his arm and yanked him up, all while talking about things inconsequential, making sure Jahi couldn’t get a word in while being dragged back to camp.

  Andrasta stood in the middle of tall, wiry grass. Most of it lay trampled as a result of her sparring with Rondel. He noticed her weight shift to ease pressure from her wounded leg. Jahi had caught a glimpse of the wound and found it hard to imagine the woman training in that condition. Yet she barely showed signs of discomfort. She held her sword loosely in her grip. A shield was strapped to her other arm, hanging at rest. Her eyes narrowed as he approached.

  Since the attack by the river, she seemed to hold him in higher contempt. He looked away from her stare, in part because of the intimidation of her gaze and in part because of his own embarrassment as he recalled her nakedness. Nearly everything about the woman frightened him, yet the image of her body, one he hadn’t realized existed beneath the layers of clothing and armor, pushed aside much of his fear and replaced it with something else.

  A hand fell on his shoulder while another pushed the grip of a sword into his hand.

  “You can use my sword,” said Rondel.

  “Let’s begin before we lose daylight,” said Andrasta.


  “You’ll do fine,” said Rondel, patting him on the back and looping another shield through Jahi’s other arm. They had taken it from the bandits that attacked Andrasta.

  Jahi walked toward Andrasta, armpits itching with sudden perspiration. The closer he got, the faster his lingering lusts faded. The long scar that spanned Andrasta’s dark face reminded him of the savage stories he had heard as a child about the people from Juntark.

  How did she get the scar?

  He stopped six feet from the woman, then raised his shield and sword.

  Andrasta did the same. “Do not hold back. I want to properly gauge your skill.”

  “What if I hurt you?”

  “You won’t.”

  Jahi thought he blinked, but he must have taken a short nap. He never saw the sword that slammed into his shield, but he felt it. The thunderous impact shook not just his arm, but his entire body. He dropped to one knee, wincing at the weight of the blow.

  “Go easy on him,” Rondel shouted.

  “I am.”

  Jahi stood slowly.

  “If that was enough to break you, you’ve got bigger problems than I thought,” she said.

  “I wasn’t ready.” He circled around Andrasta. “It is common for someone to say ‘begin’ before a session.”

  “Is that what you were taught?” She snorted. “Here is your first lesson. Don’t expect a warning. It’s far more likely that someone will stick you from behind or rush in when you least expect it. Would you announce your intentions to the person you’re trying to kill?”

  “We aren’t trying to kill each other. We’re sparring.”

  “Practice should emulate the real thing. If you train at half speed then your body will only know how to respond at half speed. And then you’ll die.”

  Fine.

  Jahi grit his teeth, angry at the way Andrasta talked down to him, angrier still because he saw the wisdom in her words.

  He bolted at her, thrusting and swinging with all his might. Though Andrasta barely moved from her spot, his attacks only found air. She did not dive or duck dramatically. A simple sway of her body or slight step to the side was all it took to make him look like a fool.

  She’s toying with me.

  The thought enraged him further. He screamed in frustration, hacking wildly. A blow finally struck something solid, Andrasta’s shield. It did not give as Jahi had hoped, but the contact felt good all the same. He drove his weight into the blow, thinking he would take advantage of her injury and use leverage to knock her down.