The Dawn King (The Moon People, Book Five)

by Claudia King

  “They should stay with us. The Dawn King may want to hear all your voices.”

  “We will not waste this chance.”

  Liliac licked his dry lips. “If you go searching the temple by yourselves you'll anger someone, then you'll be cast out or killed. Your idea was a foolish one. Help me denounce Thakayn, then I will have the power to help you afterwards.”

  Caspian could not believe the shaman's deceit. All he cared about was bringing a strong chorus of voices before the Dawn King, and now that it was too late for them to turn back he was trying to twist their bargain to serve his own ends.

  “I do not trust you, Liliac,” he whispered. “They are going to search for the others.”

  “I'll tell this whole temple who you are.”

  “Then you'll have no one to help you when you match wills with a high priest.”

  “Just do as I say. Your people will be freed afterwards.” Liliac strode ahead as they passed through the temple gates and entered into the central hall. There were people all around them now. Caspian had no time to gaze in awe at the exquisite building work, for he was thinking frantically about what to do. Would Liliac turn on them if they didn't do as he said? The safer choice would be to stay with him, but only if he remained true to his word. If he did not, then they might lose their only chance at finding their friends. Caspian did not want to risk their lives by being reckless, but he couldn't put all of his faith in Liliac.

  “Kale,” he whispered. “Go on your own. You can talk your way out of trouble with these people better than either of us.” Liliac overheard them and turned around with a look of incredulity, but Caspian stared him down, daring him to make good on his threat. He was beginning to get a feel for the shaman's character. Just as he had suspected, Liliac only glowered, then turned away again, saying nothing. Power and status were his passions. He'd get neither of those things by exposing them too early.

  “I'll come straight back to you once I've found them,” Kale said, then disappeared off into one of the long halls adjoining the central chamber.

  Forest Feather gave them a curious look, then bade them to wait by one of the large tree trunk columns that held up the roof.

  “I will bring your request to the Dawn King,” he said. “Let us hope that he answers it swiftly.”

  “Tell him everything I told you,” Liliac replied.

  “Of course, Brother.” Forest Feather bowed a little slower than was necessary, then left them alone to wait.

  * * *

  A summons from the Dawn King seemed like a good sign. Thakayn had done his best to ingratiate himself with his cousin since their last meeting, demonstrating sorrow and remorse, and it appeared to have worked. This summons must mean that the Dawn King desired his high priest's advice again, which was a relief, for what Thakayn had dreaded most of all was exclusion from the temple conclave. The thought that they might all be talking behind his back, discussing his perceived faults and failures, debating whether he still deserved a place among them, had been maddening. It had kept him awake at night, and Rat's continued absence only made matters worse. Perhaps she'd fled the village after he beat her. She wouldn't have been the first one. Liliac looked to have fled too. No one had seen him in the village, not even Nirut, who knew the comings and goings of the laypeople better than anyone.

  There was another new worry on his mind too, though that one was ripe with opportunity. He'd heard talk of an expedition his cousin was planning involving Jarek and the girl Netya. Several of the warriors had begun making preparations, but none of them would speak openly of the details, not even to him. He suspected it had something to do with the Moon People. Jarek had his own strange interest in them, and he'd managed to get one step ahead of Thakayn in becoming the Dawn King's closest confidant when it came to all matters regarding their exotic guests. It would be very fortunate, Thakayn thought, if Jarek never returned from this expedition at all.

  Ideas began to percolate in his mind as he made his way down the temple tiers to answer Atalyn's summons. Oh how he would relish the chance to get Netya alone away from the seeress again. Adel was the more useful one to him, but if Netya was her acolyte then she would have knowledge of the Moon People's magic too. Getting Adel to do what he wanted would be difficult, for she seemed a stubborn and thick-skinned woman, but he remembered the way Netya had quivered in fear the night he cut her. She'd divulge her secrets far more readily.

  Thakayn rubbed his chin in contemplation. It was a troublesome thought, but the idea of finally having one of the Moon People to himself excited him. He could not look to the warriors for help, for those accompanying Netya and Jarek would be among Atalyn's most loyal. But the group would be out on their own, far from help once they reached the edge of the forest. The more isolated the foe, the less cautious he had to be in his planning.

  A favoured tactic of his to subdue distant tribes of wild men had always been to turn a second band of savages against them. They would usually do it for little more than a small herd of livestock or a bundle of fine winter clothes for every member of their tribe. Sometimes Thakayn rewarded the survivors, sometimes not. If they sought vengeance upon the Dawn King the temple warriors would put them down once they'd raided a few villages. Setting wild men upon Atalyn's own sacred guard would be far more difficult than baiting them into a clan war, but perhaps with enough persuasion it might work. Savages were untrustworthy, however, and he might not be able to count on them to bring Netya back alive and unspoilt. The reward he promised them would have to be great indeed.

  Before he could settle upon any firm ideas he arrived outside the Dawn King's meeting chamber. The rest of his scheme would have to wait. He was still concerned about the risk, but his desire to reclaim one of the Moon People was intoxicating. Whatever he decided to do, it would have to be done in such a way that there was no hope of Atalyn ever learning the truth.

  Clearing his throat, he lifted aside the drapes and stepped in. This room was not the small audience chamber Atalyn normally used on the first tier of the temple, but a slightly larger one two tiers up. It was meant for group meetings, usually with village chieftains or traders who had complicated exchanges to plan, and the wooden table in the centre was surrounded with half a dozen padded stools opposite the Dawn King's own high-backed seat. It was a strange place to meet Atalyn alone, Thakayn realised, and when he entered he realised why. Three additional people occupied the room. Atalyn stood gripping the back of his seat, a concerned expression on his face, while two men and a woman faced him. The fact that none of them were sitting unnerved Thakayn. His back stiffened as he swept past the group to stand at the Dawn King's side. He did not recognise the handsome man and his slightly wild looking female companion, but the sight of the third figure made the high priest's blood run cold.

  Liliac. How was he here? Thakayn had made sure a guardsman was at the gates day and night with instructions to turn him away. Somehow the cunning shaman had managed to outwit him. For a moment he felt his heart racing in panic, but he reminded himself that he still held the upper hand here. He was a high priest, while Liliac was a mere shaman, one who was known for his reckless ambition. He forced himself to smile at the group, then bowed to Atalyn.

  “You summoned me, Dawn King.”

  Atalyn wasted no time in cutting to the heart of the matter. “You have been summoned here to answer this man's accusation, Thakayn.” The Dawn King's tone was even. That was good. It meant he had not yet made up his mind about whatever this accusation was.

  “Accusation? What am I accused of?”

  “Poisoning my drink,” Liliac answered. He looked confident, but he was sweating. He knew he was matching wills with fearsome opponent, and failure might mean his own death.

  “You look healthy to me, Shaman,” Thakayn said.

  Liliac gestured to his two companions. “This man knocked the cup from my hand before I could drink from it. Him and the woman saw the whole thing.”

  “They are quite adamant, Thakayn,” A
talyn said. “They say it was done by a girl in a black robe. You have a servant who dresses like that, do you not?”

  “I have many servants, and they dress as they wish. For what reason would I want this shaman dead?”

  “For the same reason you turned my pilgrimage away from the temple,” Liliac said, exchanging a knowing look with Atalyn.

  Thakayn did not allow the look to discourage him. “Forgive me, my friend,” he replied calmly. “I did not realise you were still unhappy with my decision. It must have brought great shame upon you and your pilgrims to forgo your welcoming celebration. I understand that, but it was necessary. Atalyn and I agree that secrecy...” he eyed the unfamiliar couple for a moment, “...was of great importance.”

  “Thakayn is not wrong,” the Dawn King said. “His decision was a wise one. If you have brought this accusation to me in the hopes of exacting vengeance upon him, then you—”

  “It is the truth!” Liliac exclaimed, his face colouring with anger.

  Atalyn slammed his palms upon the table. “Do not speak over me, Shaman. I have guards outside who will have you taken from this temple and flogged if you make a mockery of our audience.”

  Thakayn took advantage of the brief distraction to examine the strangers one more time. The man had his gaze fixed on Atalyn, but the woman was eyeing him back with a look of contempt. Who were these people, and why were they risking the wrath of the temple by coming to Liliac's defence? He'd probably offered them some of his metal to do it.

  “I have eyes of my own in the village, Liliac,” Atalyn continued, “and they tell me that you arrived here in a fury and drank yourself stupid all day at Nirut's wayhouse. This would not be the first time a man of slighted pride came before me full of foolish accusations.”

  “My pride is not at fault, Dawn King.” Liliac tried to sound calm, but he was clearly seething. Thakayn allowed a faint smile to touch the corner of his mouth.

  “May I be permitted to speak, Dawn King?” the nameless man asked. He spoke strangely, but his tone was that of an even-tempered individual. Thakayn's shoulders tensed. This was exactly the kind of man Atalyn might actually listen to.

  The Dawn King regarded him for a moment, then gave a short nod.

  “The drinking you speak of happened several days ago. It is true that the shaman was in an ill mood back then, which is why we cautioned him to wait. We thought it important to ensure we were certain of the truth before bringing this accusation before you.”

  “Is that so? It is rare to find men of such foresight,” Atalyn replied. “Tell me, who are you two?”

  “Just travellers who saw a man gravely wronged and wished to do right by him.”

  With a contemptuous wave of his hand Thakayn said, “I'll not believe travellers would risk the Dawn King's wrath for the sake of a hotheaded upstart.” It was important that he undermined their credibility quickly. “I expect Liliac persuaded them to come here in exchange for some of his newfound riches. Look at them. Beneath those gowns they look as rough as wild men.”

  “Selfless compassion is not so rare a thing as you might think, Thakayn,” Atalyn said, and this time an unnerving implication lingered in his soft tones.

  “You cannot believe their word over mine, Cousin! I swear on the Sister, I had no hand in this.” Thakayn swallowed the dreadful lump that came to his throat immediately afterwards. His faith in the spirits was second to his belief in the strength of men, but he had still proclaimed a terrible blasphemy by falsely invoking the Sister's name. She would surely punish him for this.

  Atalyn walked close and placed a hand on Thakayn's shoulder, then leaned in and whispered, “Are you sure of that, Cousin?”

  “I swear.”

  “Then why is it that my heart struggles to hear the truth in your words?”

  Thakayn felt his panic rising. “I have only ever been loyal to you. No matter what other mistakes I may have made, you cannot deny that.”

  “I do believe you, Thakayn,” Atalyn whispered. “And that is why I wonder. Because the thought of silencing this shaman has also entered my thoughts. You know that as a younger man I might well have commanded you to poison him myself, and you would have obeyed.”

  The fear took hold of Thakayn's muscles, and he began to tremble. He tried to speak, but this time the words froze in his throat. When Atalyn sighed it was as if the Sister's own breath of judgement was upon his lips.

  “Oh, Cousin.”

  “I did not do this!” Thakayn protested.

  But Atalyn had turned away as if his mind was already made up.

  How could he? How dare he. Thakayn struggled to summon his rage again, but he felt helpless beneath the weight of his fear. Everything was coming apart around him. It was not fair. If only the stupid girl had been more careful with her poison. If only Liliac had stayed away like he was supposed to!

  “Thank you for your honesty,” Atalyn said to the man and woman. “Please, wait with the guards outside. We must deliberate in private now.”

  Bowing, the pair exited the chamber, leaving Liliac with his arms folded and a smug smile on his face. Thakayn wanted to draw his knife and cut the man's tongue out of his head.

  “Tell me why, Cousin,” Atalyn said.

  “I've spoken the truth!”

  The Dawn King slammed his palms upon the table again. “I speak of more than just Liliac's accusation. All three of us know the truth of what happened on his pilgrimage. Why did you really tell him to take captive Moon People? Why the need for such secrecy that you would have had him killed behind my back?” His glare was ferocious, but Thakayn could not yet bring himself to answer. His thoughts raced. Perhaps there was still a chance. If Atalyn could be made to understand the truth he might still forgive him.

  He swallowed, rubbing his damp palms against his tunic. There was no other way now. If he could not give his cousin a satisfactory answer then he might be stripped of his priesthood on the spot.

  “We know so little of the Moon People,” he said stiffly. “People say they are monsters, yet Ilen Ra thought them beings of powerful magic. Fools would call that magic a blasphemy, but what if it is not? What if their power could be ours?” Atalyn frowned at him, but he pressed on, frantic in his eagerness to make the Dawn King understand. “Look at you, Cousin! Look at the grey in your hair, look at the way you stoop when you walk. They say a wounded warrior of the Moon People heals within a day. They know no sickness, no festering. No plague ever ravages their tribes. What if you had that power? What if the Dawn King could rule not just as a mortal man, but an ageless spirit. You would be the Father given flesh!”

  Atalyn regarded him for a long moment. Liliac had taken a step back, looking confused and slightly aghast at the high priest's outburst, but he knew better than to say anything now.

  “I have never sought anything beyond the life of a mortal man, Thakayn,” the Dawn King said. “The spirits take us all when it is our time. The things you speak of are your own desires, not mine. Just like me your beauty will fade, your body will weaken, and one day you will die. No magic of the Moon People can change that.”

  “How do you know?!” Thakayn refused to believe his cousin's words. “Ask the sorceress, force her to tell you! Their people can twist their bodies into the shapes of wolves. Who knows what other powers their dark spirits hold?”

  “You speak blasphemy,” Atalyn growled. “Our spirits bless us with one life and one life alone.” He held up his hand sharply to silence any attempts at interruption. Thakayn felt the hope draining out of him. “I pity your foolish notions, Thakayn. I thought you had grown beyond this insecurity, this selfishness.” He sighed deeply. “Now I see that I have been mistaken for a long time.”

  “A man like him should not hold the status of High Priest,” Liliac said.

  “I fear that I must agree.”

  Thakayn could not believe what he was hearing. He had tried everything. He had even been truthful, baring his soul to Atalyn in his desperation, yet still it had not be
en enough. And here Liliac was, eyeing him greedily like a carrion bird ready to strip the dying flesh from his body. Never before had Thakayn felt so thoroughly powerless. Hysteria encroached upon his thoughts until the trembling in his hands became uncontrollable. He did not want to accept it. It might all be some terrible vision, some sickness that had befallen him as he slept. He felt so lightheaded in that moment that he stumbled, truly believing that he might be in the clutches of some nightmarish haze.

  “I will see it done without bringing any shame upon you,” Atalyn said, and to Thakayn's dismay his tone was maddeningly gentle. He sounded like he was talking to an infant. “The people can be told that you are returning to your village to seek deeper meditations with the spirits. You will still hold a position of status there, either as the village shaman or an advisor to the chieftain.”

  Thakayn could not imagine it. A lowly shaman again? Wasting away to grow old and die back in the village of his birth? He suddenly felt like a child again, gripped with the same panic he had felt the night the girl accused him of ravishing her. He couldn't conceive of the shame. The empty void of a future bereft of all his ambitions.

  In one frantic motion, he gripped the handle of his knife and swiped it out from beneath his tunic. He hadn't even thought to aim, but the cut was as true as it had been all those years ago when he swung at the girl.

  Atalyn's mouth opened in surprise, neither of them truly grasping what had just happened as the air stood still for a moment. Then the Dawn King gripped the back of his seat as the thin line Thakayn had slashed across his neck blossomed with red. Blood spilled down his chest. He tried to speak, but only a wordless gurgle came out. Atalyn's seat slammed into the floor as it toppled over alongside his body.

  Suddenly Thakayn's fear was gone. There was no going back now. Grim purpose sharpened his thoughts, calm and focused. As Liliac looked on in shock, Thakayn swiped the blade of the knife across his own face, barely feeling the sting as he opened up a deep cut across his nose and lip. There was no opportunity for the shaman to call out to the guards, because Thakayn did it first.