Dendera recalled the story Oni had told her early on. After months in the chamber, several of the young women grabbed the tan-robed servants and threatened to kill them unless the guards allowed them passage outside.
“Of course we had no intention of killing the servants,” Oni had said. “It was all a bluff. But it didn’t matter.”
Without a word, the guards had walked into the chamber and stabbed each of the servants through the gut, making sure they died slowly. The bodies were only removed when the last of the servants died three days later.
The message had not been lost on the young women.
“As I told you,” said Oni. “It’s hopeless. There is one door to this room. It’s small and always guarded. We are underground, inside of a maze. Even if we managed to leave the chamber, could you find your way out?”
“I don’t know, but—“
“And then there is the idea that all one hundred of us could actually escape unnoticed.”
“I didn’t say we could. But if no one else, then perhaps you can make it out alive. Once free, your father can attack Menetnashte and free any survivors.”
And Father would jump to his aid. Even if I die, at least I’d be avenged.
“You aren’t the first to make such a suggestion, my lady.”
Dendera recognized Nailah’s voice and turned to the taller woman with the square jaw. Before her capture, Nailah had worked on her father’s farm and the hardness of her muscles attested to that.
“It took us a few weeks to convince our princess it was the best choice, but eventually she agreed to our plan.”
“Which was?”
“That I try to seduce one of the guards,” said Oni. “It was humbling, and took a great deal of time, weeks in fact. But it worked. We had the whole thing planned out. He came to the chamber in the middle of the night. We were just slipping out the door when Nizam appeared. He grabbed the man by the throat and broke his neck with one hand.”
Dendera blinked. “Did they hurt you too?”
“No. But they made their point again. Even with careful planning, our cause was hopeless. There is no escape.” She paused. “Some took that realization harder than others. More than a dozen girls killed themselves that next morning at breakfast. Slitting their wrists on the utensils they gave us. They replaced all of the girls within a week. However, we can now only eat with our hands.” Oni grabbed her plate of food and began to walk away. “I’m sorry Dendera. But there’s no way to escape. The sooner you realize that, the more peaceful your last moments before the Heka will be.”
Dendera looked around at the girls grabbing their food and going off to eat in silence. Their distant eyes seemed more vacant than ever.
Their souls are already dead. Already given to Sutek. Will they even fight when they come to take them for the Heka? She clenched her firsts, digging her nails into her palms. Or will they spread their legs like whores for these dogs? I won’t be taken that easily.
Nailah stepped into her line of sight. “If you can think of a way out of here, I’m with you. I know others would join as well. No one likes it here, but we’re lost on what to do.”
“And if I can’t think of a way out?”
Nailah shrugged. “Then I ask that you say a prayer for me when it’s my turn to die.”
Chapter 14
Galloping behind Andrasta, the wind whipped Rondel’s face, making his eyes water. With each breath he tasted the dust in the air.
A smile crawled across his face as he considered once more how quickly they had dispensed of the riders blocking their way out of Meir.
Jahi is definitely coming into his own. An asset.
Months ago he had been a prisoner with no hope of escape. Weeks ago, he had been useless to his partner, the fear of her abandoning him had hung over everything he did.
But things are finally changing.
By no means did he consider himself as skilled as Andrasta with a weapon, but after their last several scuffles, he no longer felt like a complete liability. He had also proven himself useful by tending his partner’s wounds, helping Jahi with his sorcery, and giving them a solid lead on how to find Dendera.
A moment of desperation and the fearfulness of being alone had coaxed him into suggesting a partnership with Andrasta.
Oddly enough, his new life seemed normal.
Despite the dangers they had faced, he knew far worse was to come. A part of him didn’t care. The excitement of the unknown gave him a rush he hadn’t felt since performing before the lords and ladies of the world.
Who would have thought that Rondel the Minstrel would actually enjoy a life not surrounded by riches, fame, clothes, and women?
I believe I’ve finally moved on.
* * *
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” said Oni.
Dendera adjusted the extra silks she had wrapped around her arms and legs to protect her skin. “I refuse to give up,” she said while walking over the pile of pillows she had positioned on the floor.
Frustrated by Oni’s attitude and encouraged by Nailah’s, Dendera thought of different approaches out of the large chamber. Several dozen came to her as she lay on her back staring at the ceiling. She eliminated all of them after working through each scenario in her head.
It was only then that she realized there were several large holes near the top of the chamber more than forty feet up. From the floor, she couldn’t tell if they led anywhere which was why she had decided someone would need to make the climb to each one.
She talked to Nailah about doing so, thinking the girl could scale the rock face easily with her strong arms and shoulders.
Just my luck the girl is afraid of heights.
Dendera thought about asking others, but decided that since the idea was hers, she should be the one to make the climb.
As she fought with tying off the last of the silks around her upper arm, one of the other women came up and gave her a hand.
“Thank you,” Dendera said.
It hadn’t taken long for Dendera’s efforts in readying herself for the climb to spark curiosity among others. Life returned rapidly to the dead eyes of many in the chamber. They asked how they could help and within moments Dendera had them hauling pillows under the first opening, a crude cushion to land on should she fall.
Better than nothing.
Oni remained skeptical of the whole process, but eventually her interest piqued. “What else do you need?”
Nothing else came to her. “Just prayers.”
“I can manage that.”
Dendera did not speak another word as she walked to the limestone wall.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
She took a deep breath and focused. Every time doubt crept into her mind, she imagined how powerless she once felt and refused to let herself feel that way again.
This isn’t just about me or these girls. If Menetnashte is successful, all of Iget will suffer, including Jahi and Father.
Her hand reached up to a gap above her head. She jammed her fingers inside, found a ridge and squeezed as she brought up both her other hand and then a foot. She could already tell by the way her soft skin felt against the sharp rock, her hands would be littered with cuts and scrapes soon. She didn’t care.
It was better than the alternative.
She took her time, having already planned out her course from the ground. The climb was difficult but not overly so, and eventually she reached the opening to the first tunnel.
Scurrying up and over the ledge turned out to be the hardest part of the process. She ended up cutting through the silk on her shin as it scraped against a sharp edge.
Dendera paused at the tunnel’s opening to catch her breath while staring into the blackness ahead. She had thought the tunnels acted as ventilation shafts, but she felt no movement of air in the enclosed pace. One more breath and she crawled forward.
Dendera only made it about fifty feet before running into a solid wall. The tunnel ende
d sharply with nowhere to go.
Why would someone just stop digging like that? Was the rock too hard to continue?
She let out a long sigh and reversed her steps out over the ledge and down the rock face until her foot sunk into the soft pillows waiting for her on the chamber floor. Turning around, ninety-nine faces waited for her to say something.
“Nothing,” Dendera said. “But, we have four more tunnels, and I’m certain I’ll have better luck of finding a way out.”
Her encouragement seemed to soften the blow of her first failure.
“What should we do?” asked Nailah.
Dendera gestured to the next opening. “Move the pillows there while I catch my breath. Then I’ll try again.” She paused. “Oh, something just dawned on me. If I’m able to find a way out, it would be easier to follow after me if I had a rope or something I could attach to my waist during the climb. Then I could secure it once I get inside the tunnel.”
“We don’t have rope. But we do have sheets. We could tie them together and knot them to make it easier to climb.”
Dendera nodded. “That should do it.”
Chapter 15
Andrasta paused briefly at the top of a small rise still some distance away from the beginning of the Talmis mountain range. The mountains rose slowly out of the approaching horizon like the morning sun. Its jagged peaks pierced many of the low hanging clouds.
She raised a hand to block out the sun and scanned the land before her. With their course so clearly defined since Meir, they had saved days in travel.
Her gaze rested on what looked like an ocean of blood surrounded by green farmland that faded to brown, barren land at the foot of the mountain range. Behind the red splotch of The Blood Forest, stood the tallest peak in the range, the one Rondel said was named after Sekhmet, the warrior goddess of upper Iget.
Despite the ominous nature of the scene, she was taken aback by the landscape’s beauty.
She kicked her mount and descended the rise, hooves pounding the earth at a furious pace. Rondel and Jahi followed her lead.
Eventually, she reined in at the edge of The Blood Forest, studying it closely.
“An obvious name,” she muttered while staring at the sea of bright-red leaves.
“The leaves are only part of what gives The Blood Forest its name,” said Jahi.
“The beasts that call The Blood Forest home,
torment those who are not of their own.
When adventurers journey into the sea of blood,
their picked-clean bones will reside in mud.”
Rondel’s voice droned out the words in a low tone.
“What was that?” she asked.
He gave her a look. “You mean you’re interested?”
“Considering the subject matter, yes.”
“It’s part of an old song. It’s well known among my people,” said Jahi with a shiver. “One used to scare little children from venturing off on their own.”
Rondel snorted. “I’ve scared more than little children with that tale. Before my unfortunate imprisonment I made more than one noble woman faint and several men wet themselves in fright.” He sighed. “Speaking the words just doesn’t hold the same weight as a lute-accompanied voice.”
“How long is this song?” asked Andrasta.
“Pretty long. It tells of a journey through The Blood Forest,” said Jahi.
“Fifty-nine verses,” added Rondel. “Pretty challenging melody now that I think of it.” Rondel’s eyes had glazed over, his lips moving without a sound as if he sang the song to himself.
“Unbelievable,” she cursed.
He blinked. “What?”
“The song. You basically have a guide on what we’re likely to run into and you’ve only brought it up now. That’s not like you.”
“Well, it’s just a song. A story. Who’s to say that any of it is true?”
“Considering how little we know, it’d be safe to assume it is.”
Rondel nodded. “Good point.”
“All right then,” said Jahi. “Are we going to leave while we still have a few hours of daylight left?”
“No,” said Andrasta. “If we’re going to assume there’s truth to the song’s lyrics, then we shouldn’t start now. The last thing I want to do is get caught facing something we’ve had no warning about.”
Rondel closed his eyes, head slowly bobbing with each word his mouth formed.
“Two days ride through the forest you go,
No sign of friend, only foe.
Beware those who are afraid of night.
Inside the forest you’ll find no light.
Though the trees are alive,
None will help you survive.”
Rondel opened his eyes when he finished.
“So two days through The Blood Forest,” said Jahi. “Then we should definitely leave now then. The sooner we get through the other side, the better.”
Andrasta shook her head, having understood the gist of the lines. “No. We set up camp here and get to sleep early.”
“Why?” demanded Jahi.
“Try to set one of the trees on fire.”
Jahi gave Rondel a look.
“Humor her.”
Jahi formed a ball of fire in his hand. It shot toward the edge of the forest into the tree closest to them. Smoke hung in the air, but the fire dissipated immediately.
Quicker than I thought.
“That’s impossible,” he whispered.
“Yet it happened,” said Rondel. “And with that simple exercise, you’ve proven that at least part of the song is true. The trees are alive but they will not help us fend off the darkness. Therefore, we should rest now because I doubt we’ll get much sleep once inside.”
“A two day journey with no way to build a fire,” muttered Jahi. “I hate this place already.”
“With a name like The Blood Forest, I don’t think it was ever meant to be a pleasant destination spot,” said Rondel.
Always with the jokes.
Andrasta sighed. “Start reciting that song. I want to hear it through as many times as possible before you get to sleep.”
Rondel cleared his throat and began.
* * *
Early the next morning, Jahi followed Andrasta into the forest. It wasn’t an easy task with their mounts fighting them. Jahi made sure to keep a hand tight on the reins in case his horse tried to throw him.
One moment, the yellow light of a rising sun shone down on him, the next he was blanketed in a shroud of gray. Somehow the crimson leaves of the forest’s trees forbade even the smallest ray from peeking through its dense canopy. He squinted into the gloom, an uneasy feeling creeping over him. The feeling worsened with each breath.
Just a few feet behind him, insects chirped and swallows sang while seeking their breakfasts. Inside The Blood Forest, he heard none of those sounds. In fact, he heard nothing except the echoing clomp of hooves on the tightly packed earth.
A ball of fire took shape in the palm of his hand. The comfort the glow brought eased the tension in his shoulders he hadn’t realized was there before.
Who needs a torch anyway? he thought, recalling from yesterday that the trees would not burn.
Andrasta spun as the fire in his hand brightened. “What are you doing?”
“Giving us more light.”
“Does that weaken you?”
Jahi frowned. “A little.”
“Then stop.”
“But it’s hard to see anything.”
“Hard, but not impossible. Our eyes will adjust. You heard the lyrics to the song. Wouldn’t you rather have your full strength if we have to face any of the things mentioned?”
A cold sweat washed over him. The fire in his hand dissipated, sending a small wisp of smoke into the air.
She turned back around and edged her mount forward.
The tension in Jahi’s shoulders returned, and with it, a growing knot in his stomach. It moaned with a low gurgle.
And
rasta kept a steady pace, following the left most of several clearly defined paths visible. According to the song, “a traveler wanting to choose the right path must always make the wrong choice.” Jahi was proud of himself for figuring out that line.
The forest held little in the way of shrubbery. A few sickly plants, mostly bare, sat near the edge of their path. On the rare occasion, scraggly vines wrapped themselves around dense trees of white bark bordering the road. Trampled, black earth and thick, protruding roots rising up like bones from the ground made up most of the forest’s floor.
Is that where the line about bones comes from? He swallowed. I can only hope.
The forest produced odd, out of place scents—a slight odor of copper like freshly spilled blood, rot from a gangrenous wound, and puss from a bursting blister.
But still no sound.
Despite the underlying sense of dread that they would find death around the next bend, one of the worst parts of their journey related to what felt like an absence of time. He estimated they had been traveling for most of the day, yet the dim gray light hadn’t brightened in the slightest.
Does that mean it won’t darken at night? Not likely.
“Gods, I hate this place,” he muttered from behind a tree while tying his trousers after relieving himself. It was the third time they had stopped since morning.
“Who wouldn’t?” snorted Rondel over by the horses.
Jahi looked up, not realizing he had spoken loud enough to be heard. “You’d think that someone would have destroyed this place by now.”
“We saw yesterday it can’t be burned.”
Jahi shrugged. “Maybe the flames need to be stronger. Hire a sorcerer with enough power, and I’m sure they could figure it out.” He paused. “Really, you don’t have to burn it. Just chop it all down.”
A faint scratching sound tickled Jahi’s ears. He looked to Andrasta who stood by another tree, dagger in hand. The sharp edge of her blade left a small gouge in the bark. Black sap oozed out of the wound, covering the hole. Within a couple breaths, there was no sign of damage.
“Amazing,” whispered Rondel. “The tree healed itself faster than it took you to make the mark.”
The Cult of Sutek Page 20