For how popular it seemed to be to put that creature on their home walls, it wasn’t because they loved it. Every depiction of the snake creature had arrows and spears sticking out of it. And a giant, bird-like creature with huge talons often gripped the snake and, in a few cases, was tearing it apart. Then there were pictures of people of all sizes. They knelt, appeared to be hunting, and sometimes were simply grouped together.
A pair of men or women stood at each tight curve in the road upward, all with a complex array of drums and several clubs and sticks. They played multi-toned beats regularly. Every time Lakhoni’s group passed them, he listened and watched as much as he could, but he never saw either of any pair say a word. It was as if they were making up music on their own, but together. He pulled his attention back to the city itself. Trees grew thick and hardy from pockets of dirt surrounded by stone walls. Gardens grown from carted-in dirt were tended to by men, women, and children in loose fitting clothing. Women and men with lithe, muscled frames pulled carts up and down the road, sweat pouring off their foreheads and down their backs. These people wore tight fitting leather clothes which showed signs of burns and rough work.
Desa Thora and her soldiers led the companions around a group of women in white robes that hung off one shoulder, swirling in waves of cloth and only just staying off the ground. These women all had a gold disk the size of a man’s hand in their hair. It had a design that caught Lakhoni’s eye, but he couldn’t stop to examine it closer, since a sword pressed him onward.
As the companions were led around another curve that led even deeper into the city’s mountain alcove, Lakhoni spared a glance outward. They were at least five men’s height up from the valley floor. The massive waterfall fell off to the side, the huge thrumming sounds faded only a little at this height. The mist didn’t come this high, so everything was much clearer to view. Off in the distance, in the direction he and his companions had been heading before turning for the city, a wide crack had come into view. It looked like there was movement in it. Was that where the rolling thunder was coming from?
The group passed between several more buildings, with more and more ornate windows and decorations carved into the stone walls. All had holes in the walls just under the roof, clearly to allow smoke to leave. Another snake carving was on the nearest, massive home. But there was no giant bird or spears. Groups of people had been painted on the stone, and one unusually large person stood out from the others. The simple depiction of the separate person showed them holding a long stick. Maybe a spear? But it didn’t have a sharp end. The top end was actually a little wider. Was it a club? No, too long and thin.
A cold tingle started at Lakhoni’s crown and washed down his neck. Was that the Rod? Lakhoni stumbled and nearly fell as his foot caught a bump in the stone road. He pulled his attention away. Could it be the Rod in that figure’s hands? Questions clawed to get free, but he bit them back. He didn’t want to make Desa Thora angry and make things worse for him and his family.
They followed a tight curve of the road as it hugged right next to a complex home that had at least two levels. The long, wide wall of the building that was nearest the road was completely covered in several panels of drawings—each separated by a bold line of black paint. In each panel, a large human-like figure held a straight line with a wider top. Lakhoni tried to get a closer look, but the hooked back of the curved sword pulled him along. “Pay attention,” the soldier said.
Lakhoni turned back to the path ahead and had to shake his head and blink. “What?” The word escaped his lips before he could bite it back. The tall building they’d seen from the valley floor loomed directly in front of them.
Except it wasn’t simply a tall building. It was a temple. A gray and white and black temple. As the soldiers led Lakhoni and his companions forward across a wide plaza in front of the building, Lakhoni took the astonishing structure in. It was so similar to the king’s temple in Zyronilxa, it could have been a copy. Except where the one in his people’s capital was wide and blocky, this was narrower and had fine, angular lines that made it a work of art. Lakhoni winced at remembered pain, his bumpy journey down the outside of King Zyron’s temple still plenty fresh in his mind. Much like Zyron’s temple, this one had exterior walls that looked like tall, blocky steps, but they were not huge blocks of stone cut and shoved into place. The entire structure looked like it had once been a single, massive, formless rock. And there were two statues, one on each side of the temple, that rose from the plaza like giant trees. Except they were in the form of humans. Mostly. One had the head of a bird of prey, like a hawk, with a sharp, curved beak. The other had the head of a horned serpent. Like what he’d been seeing on the houses coming up through the city.
The plaza they crossed had people in cloth and leather and even animal furs hurrying in all directions. Some carried food, others were with children, and still others hauled heavy-looking baskets either on their head or in a thick basket on their back, a strap going around their forehead to hold the basket. The plaza was at least fifty paces in every dimension. Small clusters of women and men in the white robes they’d seen before gathered in various parts of the plaza, a few at the base of each of the two enormous statues. All had a flat, gold disk on the top of their head.
“This is the temple of Sintawanxla and Bha’gweki.” Desa Thora didn’t slow as she gestured out and up to take in the structure.
“Sint-what?” Alronna’s voice sounded equal parts exasperated and awed.
“Sintawanxla,” Desa Thora said. “And Bha’gweki. The Gods.” Her brows drew down as she favored Alronna with an incredulous expression. “The. Gods.”
“The gods?” Alronna grimaced, not moving, her skin nearly encountering the sharp side of the curved blade at her neck. “There are lots of those, I hear.”
Lamorun snorted. Lakhoni barely held back a burst of laughter.
Desa Thora turned back to the path ahead, leading the group between the massive statues. She threw her next words over her shoulder. “Godless trespassers. This will be interesting.” She put her left hand up, pointing at the human statue with a horned snake for a head. “This is Sintawanxla.” She pointed at the other. “That is Bha’gweki.” Desa Thora increased her pace and led Lakhoni and his companions to the base of the massive temple, where a wide door led in. A heavy steel gate barred the way, guarded by ten soldiers, all in the same stiff leather armor that wrapped snakelike around their bodies. Each held a curved sword and a round, beaten metal shield. The metal was polished until it glowed silver.
“The high priestess and priest have ordered all trespassers to appear before them,” Desa Thora said, stopping crisply and address the man who stepped out from the group of ten soldiers. This man had a drum strapped to one hip along with his sword and shield.
Lakhoni blinked at the bright polish of the shield. Some of the soldiers in Zyronilxa had used shields, but they were always rectangles of wood with rounded corners. He looked closer at the shields. They looked like they had a pattern of something carved into them, but the glare was partly obscuring it.
The man nodded and transferred his sword to his shield hand. He struck his fingers rapidly against the drum on his hip, tapping out a complex series of tones. The metal gate instantly began to move to the right, sliding smoothly on a metal runner embedded in the stone.
“Bring them,” Desa Thora commanded, leading the way into the temple. The pressure on the back of Lakhoni’s neck increased and he stepped forward, trying to get a better look at the shield. Something about the pattern was firing a memory buried deeply. A memory that had been poking at him since they’d come into the city.
The pattern. It was the same as what was on the gold hair disks on the men and women in white robes throughout the city.
A circle with lines radiating out from all directions and a heavy, textured line running through the middle of it, cutting it in half. As the group was led into the torch-lit entrance of the temple, he finally had it. He nearly called out for
Alronna. It was the same symbol as the one carved above the door to his family’s hut. The one his father had carved so many years ago.
The symbol he had never seen anywhere else.
Questions reeled through Lakhoni’s head in a whirlwind. Why was this symbol here? Where had his father gotten the symbol and what did it mean? Desa Thora’s soldiers had taken them this far without harming them; they weren’t going to kill him now. “Where are you taking us?”
Desa Thora didn’t seem to mind him breaking the silence. She spoke as she led the group down a short corridor that was well lit with torches as well as a much paler light that Lakhoni couldn’t figure out the source of. “The high priestess and priest have demanded to see every intruder now. They will decide your fate.” She turned left and immediately turned left again, leading the way up a wide flight of stone stairs. Their footsteps echoed noisily off the stone walls. Windows cut out of the stone in multiple delicate shapes allowed plenty of pale light into the stairs as they wound around, taking them up into the temple.
“What fate? We did nothing wrong.” Simra sounded like she was about to start fighting the soldiers that held them captive.
“You trespassed on our—”
Lamorun cut Desa Thora off. “It is impossible to trespass on land that cannot be claimed.”
Desa Thora snorted. “And yet here you are. My captives because you did trespass.”
“Because we let you take us,” Hilana hissed. “Give me back my blades and we will see who becomes a captive.”
Lakhoni fumed at the stupid treatment they were receiving. And he needed answers before the questions caught him on fire. “Will we at least be ‘allowed’ to talk to this high priest and priestess?”
They reached the top of the stairs and found themselves in a room with a ceiling too high to touch even if Lakhoni jumped. Carved and polished pillars stood at each corner of the room. It was ten paces across and large wood doors were set into a thick stone wall on the far side. Four soldiers guarded the door, each with a burnished metal shield with the same symbol and a sword.
“That will be up to Illiana and Mozde.” Desa Thora stopped in front of the doors. “Tell the high ones that I bring trespassers.”
Before she could finish, the doors thumped and opened. Desa Thora stepped back and the guards gave the doors space, confusion on their faces.
A tall, regal woman with high cheekbones and raven black hair piled high on her head swept out from the doors as soon as the gap was wide enough to fit her. She had broad shoulders and hips and the flowing white robe that hung off one shoulder accentuated a figure that looked powerful enough to wield a heavy sword and beautiful enough to attract anyone she desired. “Thora!” The woman’s voice was deep, though not like a man’s, and it carried like the sharp tone of a sword striking stone. “You have brought visitors.” The woman strode to Desa Thora and caught her by the shoulders, leaning down and pressing her forehead to the soldier captain’s forehead. The gesture was both intimate and formal.
“I brought trespassers, as you commanded, Illiana.” Desa Thora stepped back politely as the tall woman let her hands fall from the captain’s shoulders.
The tall woman, apparently the high priestess Illiana, turned and her brows drew down. “Put those swords away.” The order was delivered softly, but the soldiers removed their blades from the companions’ necks and sheathed them instantly.
Illiana’s eyes roved over Lakhoni’s group. He felt something like an animal lined up in a trade corral. The tall woman whispered to herself as she looked Lamorun up and down, then Hilana. When she saw Lakhoni, her eyes widened a little and she muttered again. Her gaze landed on Simra and a small smile stretched her full lips. Then her eyes turned to Alronna. Her mouth opened slightly and her eyes widened more. “Can it be?” She looked back to Lakhoni. Then to Alronna again. Did the tall woman understand why Alronna’s face had stained lines that made her look like a minga?
Illiana pursed her lips. “Who are you?”
Alronna seemed to be feeling the weight of Illiana’s gaze, because she cleared her throat and her shoulders hunched. “We’re travelers. Trying to find a man.”
“You have two men here,” Illiana said, a smirk stretching her lips. “And I asked who you are.”
“I’m Alronna.” Alronna glanced at Lakhoni questioningly.
“I’m Lakhoni. This is our family.” Lakhoni’s gesture took in Lamorun, Simra, and Hilana.
Illiana looked from Lakhoni to Alronna, then back to Lakhoni again. Why did she keep doing that? “Interesting.” Lakhoni had the feeling that she wasn’t responding to what he’d said.
“Can you tell us why we were taken captive and brought here?” Lakhoni asked.
“I’m sure my sister has already done that.” Illiana smiled at Desa Thora. “Thora is always happy to answer questions.” Illiana laughed softly as she approached Lakhoni. Her hips swung in a way that he had trouble looking away from.
He pulled his eyes up to meet Illiana’s eyes. Which were bright green. And very close to his. He blinked. Was this woman part goddess? “She didn’t answer questions.” He cleared his throat and felt Simra’s presence warm his side. “But I have lots of those for you.”
Illiana raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
A man’s voice cut through the room from beyond the heavy wood doors, which now stood wide open. “Illiana, what are you doing?”
“Oh, hush, Mozde,” Illiana said. She met Lakhoni’s gaze again. “Ask away.”
He realized their eyes were completely level. This was the first woman he’d met who matched him in height. “The symbol. On the shields.” Lakhoni forced himself to keep meeting her intense gaze. “What does it mean?”
Illiana’s expression went slack for a moment. It was a strange look on such a perfectly carved face. “You ask about the symbol?”
“Yes.” How much should he say? Simra’s hand wrapped into Lakhoni’s. It was as if she could sense his discomfort. He decided to be careful in what he revealed. “I’ve seen it before.”
Illiana stepped back a half pace. She turned to Alronna, looking her up and down, then Lamorun, then back to Lakhoni. Her face lost some color. “Why have you come?”
Alronna slid closer to Lakhoni and answered. “We’re trying to stop a murderer.”
The high priestess staggered, yet leaned toward Lakhoni and Alronna. “A murderer?”
“Sister!” Desa Thora leapt to Illiana’s side, taking her by the arm. “What is happening?”
“Continue!” Illiana’s voice rang with command.
“His name is Gadnar,” Lakhoni said. “He’s trying to do something. Something evil.” He searched for more. The high priestess’s behavior drove an urgency into his words he didn’t comprehend. “We don’t really understand, but we know he’s trying to get power by murder and deceit and betrayal. And he should be dead, but he’s not.”
“Illiana?” The man’s voice from beyond the doors was closer now. He appeared, matching Illiana in height and appearance. His expression grew concerned when he saw the high priestess stepping back from Lakhoni and his family. “What is happening? What have you done?”
“Mozde,” Illiana said. She shook herself and clearly fought to regain her composure. “We have visitors.” Her back and neck straightened and she released a controlled breath. “I do believe the Guide and the Sword have come.”
“What?” Tingles jolted through Lakhoni’s body, as if he’d leapt into an ice-cold stream. “What did you say?”
Alronna let out a burst of air, surprise evident in the noise. The lines painted on her face wrinkled as she gave a confused expression. “You know of—”
“Sister!” The newcomer, Mozde, frowned at Illiana and his brows drew down so deeply that his eyes went into shadow. “This is not a thing to be said lightly.”
Illiana pursed her lips and looked calmly from Mozde to Lakhoni and his family. “Come into the Sanctuary.” She turned to Mozde. “We will find out together.” She t
ook Mozde by an arm and led him through the wide double doorway into the large room beyond it. “Come along, Lakhoni and Alronna. We will hear your story.”
The tall woman and man walked into the large room, their broad shoulders hardly moving as they walked with a strangely smooth gait. Starting after the man and woman, the tingles still sliding down Lakhoni’s back, he shot a questioning look at Simra and Alronna. How did these people know about the Guide and the Sword? Had the knowledge of the relics spread even this far?
Lakhoni caught Simra’s wide eyes. “Did I imagine it?”
Simra shook her head. “No.”
“She said Guide and Sword.” Alronna’s hand dropped to her left side, where she’d had the Sword of Nubal strapped for months. “The Sword.” She swallowed and her eyes followed the movement of the high priestess and priest as they walked into the other chamber. “My sword.”
Lakhoni followed, confusion and surprise flinging questions through his mind. He and Simra, side by side, strode after Illiana and Mozde. The other three followed closely behind.
The Sanctuary, as Illiana called it, was massive. Lakhoni guessed that if there were three men his height standing on each other’s shoulders, they would still not be able to touch the smooth, curved stone ceiling. The entire room was an endless, curving dome. The walls all arced gently around in a long oval, the length of which had to be at least sixty paces.
The echo of all of them walking on stone floors disappeared as Lakhoni and his family stepped onto the countless furs that covered almost the entire floor of the enormous room. And with the echoes of their feet faded, silence fell. Lakhoni searched for a place to start with all the questions he had, but couldn’t settle on a good spot. Illiana’s strange behavior and reactions to what he and Alronna had said made no sense. What did she know about the Guide and the Sword? How could she know about them? Had Gadnar passed through here? Surely if he had, the wicked man would have left a trail of bloodshed as usual. Unless somehow these people had caught him and slain him already.
Red Prince Page 19