by B A Vonsik
“They control the lone bridge giving access to the Blood Lands,” Ezerus informed the Za, though fully expecting this knowledge to have already reached him.
“He says to leave the unworthy to him.” Irzal had his answer for the anticipated question.
“I see . . .” contemplated Ezerus. His strength of the Powers granted that arrogance as Ezerus felt certain the Seb’Ner were of no consequence to a Shunned.
“Dajil . . .?” Irzal asked in a heated appeal.
The scent of her beauty filled the room. Ezerus felt it swooning him. Despite knowing what she was attempting and his best to resist her, he found himself becoming compliant to her . . . wishes. A spiky tingle flashed through him from his right hand, ridding him from the influence of her sway. Anger filled Ezerus for his inability to resist Irzal as much for her attempt at making him compliant. He looked into her sharply green eyes with even more heat than Irzal’s. “If she continues her disrespectful mannerisms, I’ll feed her lightless body to the guardsmen and whatever companions they have. Now, fetch me the kunza.”
Chapter 31
Against the Chorus
The four of them quickly made their way along the outer garden trails of packed dirt of the southern cluster of temples. High and to their right, fluttering flags in the light breeze of midmorning bearing the symbols and colors of the Ancients identified each stone structure’s followers: a staff of brown identified the followers of Enuru and the horn-headed staff on green the followers of Ea for the first two temples they made their way around. From his observations yesterday beyond the walls, he knew three more temples were yet further south on this rise. The Kabiri had hope that the South Gate would not have so many Tusaa’Ner and Seb’Ner surrounding it as had the North Gate and his Temple of Sinn. Evidently, that temple was the seat of this Ebon Circle he had heard so much about though his years. A secret order that most feared. Why are they truly caught up in all this? Aren wondered.
They kept to the eastern slopes of the plateau the block stone temples dominated above, allowing them to see the happenings on Anza’s main street and across the ravine to the Coiner’s District. Three high bridges spanned the water-filled ravine joining the Temple District to Coiner’s. The two northern bridges were simple constructions of stone and timbers. The southernmost bridge appeared to be a double bridge with a walkway of timbers below the upper level with the street. Being the longest of the three, the southern bridge had a center tower of old, large, block stone on a rising strip of land where deep rushing waters of two rivers from the Twins Mountains merged here in Anza. The center tower where the three spans of bridging met, east, west, and south, provided the only way to the Blood Lands not through treacherous snapjaw-filled waters. Safe passage was over a set of southern bridge spans and more towers branching off that center stone tower.
The cobblestone streets below were now alive with the scarlets and royal blues of guardsmen, most on foot and some on sarigs, who now certainly were hunting them. Most of the city folk cleared the streets and closed their doors and shuttered their windows at the sounding of the first horn. As the Kabiri had led them to the Temple of Sinn, the merchants retreated to their shops and boarded doors and windows, not wanting to be part of the events ahead. As the ground trembled sharply, a second set of three horn blasts came from a group of three large stone and timber buildings flying the colors of Anza. The buildings were in the center of Anza east of the north-south running main street and west of the deep ravine separating the two districts of the city. A strategic location for those wishing control of such a population. Most other city folk disappeared at that second sounding as scarlet-colored Baraans in various states of armor came running from their homes and some shops.
The Kabiri’s guardsman brought them to a halt with a raised hand as soon as they rounded enough of the hillside to see South Gate. After a long moment to take it in, the Kabiri appeared frustrated as he grew ever angrier at their situation.
“Tusaa’Ner and even more Seb’Ner also surround South Gate,” Daluu announced with a little growl.
“Where to . . . now?” Rogaan asked as he scanned the partly cloud-filled sky above. Disappointment washed over the half Tellen’s face before it turned to that famed Tellen scowl of resolve.
“East Gate or a lesser-known passage out of the city from Coiner’s District,” Daluu revealed.
“Across the river?” Rogaan sarcastically asked.
“Where else would it be?” Aren asked with a bit more drama.
“Yes,” Daluu simply confirmed.
“I am not swimming!” Rogaan made sure everyone understood his boundaries.
“Let’s just get to the bridge,” Daluu asked of the group with obvious hopes he could get everyone to agree.
“Across the main street?” asked Aren with raised brow. “Or do you have another lesser-known path?”
“Yes. There is a lesser-known path,” Daluu smiled at Aren.
“Lead on!” Aren swept his open left hand toward the bridge. As he did, a point flash of white light sparked into existence, then was gone. Everyone stood silent looking at Aren.
“Did you do that?” Rogaan asked him.
“I don’t know . . .” replied Aren staring at the place the light had sparked and his hand.
“What did you feel?” asked Daluu as he stepped closer to Aren while peering into his eyes.
“Nothing . . .” Aren lied. Daluu kept looking directly into Aren’s eyes searching for something. Aren realized Daluu’s eyes were brown and held a mix of both wisdom and uncertainty.
“You lie,” Daluu challenged Aren.
“I do not!” Aren shot back instinctively. Whispers in his head were unlike any before. How many whispers he knew not, yet they reached out to him wanting something. Aren instinctively recoiled and shut them out of his mind.
“I see it . . .” accused Daluu. “Your eyes hold the misty touch of Kunsag. This only happens when more than one is mind-touching the Temple Agni. No . . . the Agni you carry. It’s the lost Agni of his temple.”
“What does that mean to us . . . exactly?” Rogaan asked as he fingered his long knife.
“That we need to make all haste out of this city,” Daluu announced as he turned, continuing down the packed dirt trail they had been traveling. “Follow. Quickly!”
Rogaan gave Aren a concerned look that appeared filled with as much friendly empathy as fear of the unknown. Aren gave back to the half Tellen a smile meant to reassure Rogaan that he wasn’t to have the “stone thing” harming him.
“Go,” Aren told Rogaan. “I’m directly behind you.”
The four ran a short distance through the browning gardens along the packed dirt path curving to the right around the hilly rise. Three more block-built stone temples came into view above, the last obscured by the second, preventing Aren from seeing it clearly. The second temple flew flags of red with a black sword and gem symbol on them. Rogaan stopped at a branching of paths just ahead of Aren. The half Tellen stood motionless, mesmerized at the red and black flags of the second temple. As Aren caught up to the half Tellen, his new friend hadn’t taken his eyes from the block stone structure of the modest-sized temple.
“What is it?” Aren asked, now curious at Rogaan’s loss of focus. His curiosity began turning to concern when his friend didn’t move a muscle. “Rogaan, what disturbs you?”
“I know those colors and that symbol,” Rogaan absently replied. “I have seen it. It cannot be.”
Aren took a quick look down the path the Kabiri and his guardsman ran thinking he may need help with the half Tellen. They were halfway to a large residence in a stone-fenced compound of multiple stone building with reddish tiled roofs. Wanting Rogaan to get moving as Aren didn’t feel right about this place, he reached for Rogaan when he heard a shuffling of sandaled feet on fine rocks to their right.
“Greetings from those serving the Great Ancient, Enurta.” A Baraan dressed in red and yellow temple robes stepped forward from a group of seven b
ald males standing on a shelf of stacked rocks about waist high to Aren. Several others lingered behind the seven that Aren could not see. “We have felt its approach.”
“What’s approach?” Aren asked as he shook Rogaan. The half Tellen pulled his eyes away from the second temple to find himself staring at a group of temple servants from the block stone temple directly above flying flags of red and gold bearing the symbol of an ax enwrapped in flames.
“Now what?” Rogaan asked dejectedly.
“Now . . .” the robed Baraan spoke calmly but with a hint of excitement in his voice, “we rejoin with our Bonding Stone and to ‘He Who Protects All.’”
“We do not know of what you speak.” Rogaan tried disassociating them from this situation.
“He knows the truth.” The red and gold robed Baraan pointed at Aren.
“Me?” Aren disingenuously replied.
“Him?” Rogaan asked, confused.
“Yes. Him,” calmly answered the red and yellow-robed Baraan. A wave of the robed one’s hand gave cue for the seven to begin a chant in a language Rogaan did not understand.
Aren felt the vibrations first, powerful and focused. Before he could summon his thoughts at defending against these seven, light like tendrils reached out to him and took hold of his head. Fingers of thought reached into his skull and into his mind demanding of him. What, he didn’t understand. He pushed back with his mind as his half Tellen friend spoke to him through a cloudy veil.
“Aren . . .” Rogaan spoke as he kept his eyes on the Kunsag to ensure they were not to attack them in surprise. “We have need to get away from these—”
“Kunsag.” Aren felt himself speak as if he no longer controlled his words. “Of He Who Protects All.”
“Aren?” Rogaan spoke with growing concern and frustration. It was quick that his friend decided his words proved unless, so he reached out. Aren felt him being shaken. “Aren, wake up. Come back.”
Aren felt his eyes roll into his head as another’s sight replaced his vision. Disoriented, Aren tried to determine where he was . . . what he was looking at. Then, he realized he saw himself and Rogaan through the eyes of the Kunsag. One voice carrying the strength of seven struck his mind. “Deliver the Bonding Stone. Return it to us and the temple where it will protect the world.”
Aren pushed back again against the seven finding no weakness in their hold on him. He watched helplessly as Rogaan half-pulled his long knife, then sheathed it before spinning around Aren . . . me. When he emerged on his other side, Rogaan had his Sentii Blood Bow in hand as he drew his nocked arrow aiming it at himself . . . no, the Kunsag. A cry of seven in unison painfully deafened his mind. Defend . . . Shield of Air. Instantly, a wall of swirling air grew in front of him . . . no, the Kunsag. The half Tellen let loose his arrow. It will deflect. So certain the shield protects. Pain! The arrow did deflect but . . . It cut through me . . . the Kunsag’s left side. The half Tellen already nocked and was drawing another arrow but glanced at his friend . . . me. Attack . . . Vengeful Hands. Bold tendrils of the Power reached out grabbing the bow of the half Tellen. He felt it as if his own hands. A powerful sensation. Most satisfying. Pull to us. He is strong and still holds the weapon. Pull right. Still strong in his hold. Break the bow. The Power’s tendrils shifted over the surface of the bow. Another arrow flies! He watched the arrow approach at great speed and deflect from its intended aim. Pain! One of the chorus is struck. Pain rippled through his thoughts. I . . . continue. Break the bow. Fighting through the shared pain, the Kunsag struggled fighting Rogaan. The half Tellen resists . . . He is strong. Concentrate. Break his bow. The shared mind ignored all other things, concentrating on a single goal. Success! The voices cried out in unison as they watched the splinters of the strongest made bow known tumble to the dirt as the half Tellen . . . no, Rogaan, watch in disbelief. My chance. Aren sought out the one wounded by Rogaan’s arrow. He felt him . . . and much pain in his left leg. Aren summoned his thoughts focusing on this one . . . distracted by his pain. With all he had, Aren struck!
Pain in his shoulder and left leg caused Aren to wither for moments until he realized he had no wounds and he breathed. His vision now clear. Looking up, he found Rogaan half-smiling and half-grimacing.
“We must go . . . must go . . . must go,” the half Tellen . . . Rogaan spoke as he helped Aren to his feet.
“What happened?” Aren asked Rogaan, realizing his pains were not his own and now disappeared.
“I do not know but let us not stay here . . .” Rogaan tugged on Aren down the path toward the approaching Daluu and his guardsman.
Aren started down the path as he looked back to see six stumbling red and yellow-robed Kunsag and one lying on the ground withering in pain as he held his leg. Turning away, he decided to flee as his mind continued letting go of those fuzzy memories of being linked to all of them, the Kunsag of Enurta. Strides down the path, he and Rogaan met with the Kabiri and guardsman, both looking up beyond their companions to the Kunsag. Daluu’s face was one of growing disbelief.
“Seven . . . I count seven . . . in Chorus . . . against you?” The Kabiri looked at Aren with utter disbelief. “How could you defeat them?”
“I had help from my half Tellen . . . friend.” Aren answered Daluu, feeling good about himself, and too he believed he had a friend . . . one maybe he could trust. “We shouldn’t dawdle; they’ll recover soon.”
Chapter 32
Anza and Wonders
The Kabiri gave lead to his Baraan guardsman as they entered the stone-walled compound through a side entrance. They bypassed the rear entrance for some reason as they seemed to be listening for something specific. It was a large estate for being in the middle of town, he thought. Almost as big as my home. A main house of two levels, and likely a cellar . . . with many stored and prepared foods for the cold season to come. His stomach grumbled. I am hungry. Another single-level house, maybe for guests or where business was conducted, and a stable big enough for storage and a few sarigs or kydas. The well-kept grounds were littered with playthings, giving a hint that this was a place where younglings spent much of the day in addition to the working tools in a couple of spots used in the upkeep of the place.
The guardsman led them directly into the stable where they gathered. The stable was bigger on the inside than he thought from the outside. Strange how that always seems to be. Two of the stalls were in use by sarigs, one a big male and another a modest-sized female. They snorted at the newcomer’s presence but otherwise kept undisturbed. The guardsman gave his Kabiri an uncertain glance, clearly uncomfortable with revealing what they were about to. Daluu calmly nodded his head. His guardsman then entered an empty stall on the far side of the stable and pulled up a chain that appeared to be holding in place an anvil-like object, though he was uncertain exactly what the object was used for. The stone wall opened, allowing them entrance to a narrow shaft down with ladder rungs built into the rock wall below. The guardsman descended without hesitation.
“After both of you.” Daluu held out his hand pointing to the shaft.
Rogaan decided to go next. He looked down into the darkness. Noise from below he hoped was the guardsman lighting a torch. A few moments passed before Rogaan’s vision adjusted, allowing him to see much more of his surroundings. The place was dry. This is a good omen. He mounted the first couple of rungs, then descended the eleven-stride-deep shaft. As he went, a stiff breeze grew as the air moved the musty dirt smell of the passageway up to him and out into the stable. It felt good when he placed his feet solidly on the ground. Light from the shaft above was enough for Rogaan to see clearly his surroundings in a gray vision. The chamber they were in was almost five strides in diameter. On the walls hung stocked items . . . tools for digging and traveling. Elevated crates around the chamber had simple markings indicating what each held, though his dark sight was not good enough to read them from where he stood.
“Hold this,” the guardsman half-asked, half-commanded Rogaan to hold a torch.
/> Complying with the “request,” Rogaan held the torch while the guardsman attempted to make sparks to light it. After several attempts, the torch remained unlit. The guardsman grew frustrated at his failure when an orange point of light appeared at the end of the torch. It hung there for a moment with Rogaan uncertain what it was. Then, it grew a little and became hotter, hot enough for Rogaan to consider tossing it to the floor of the chamber. Then, the torch caught fire and started burning forcing Rogaan to shield his eyes until his dark sight adjusted to the reddish light. A hum of satisfaction came from behind. Looking, Rogaan found Aren pleased with himself as he blew breath over his fingers as if putting out a candle. The Evendiir smiled to Rogaan and bowed his head. Rogaan gave him a knowing smile back. Soon, the Kabiri started inspecting crates. He pulled wrappings filled with dried goods, sun dried and salted meats and gave them to everyone.
“We’re going to be in the wilds for a time and will need these,” Daluu explained, pointing to a side covey. “Water and containers are over there. If you need carry packs, they are in that crate over there.”
“This is well organized and stocked,” Aren commented. “As if it’s used a lot.”
“Anza has problems, Aren of Windsong.” Daluu sounded confident and informed. “It was a place of great adventures and wealth for many years back before the Shuruppak civil war. Since the declaration by Shuruppak that no one is allowed travel into the Blood Lands unless sanctioned by the Zas of Ur, it dwindled. Being important to Shuruppak in keeping the Blood Lands closed, Ur started sending coin to keep the city alive. At first, it was almost a paradise. A place to visit and experience at least once in a lifetime . . . a better place to live if you liked not to work hard. The coin paid for many servants to the ruling and lesser Houses. The people became used to the coin given without need to work. Then, they became demanding of it and convinced themselves it was deserved for their hardships in the long past and for their importance as the gateway. Ur and the other cities of Shuruppak then shared the burden of coin and gave Anza even more. Many were drawn to the free coin. They flooded into the city and surrounding areas. It looked and felt to be a rich place, but it wasn’t. Little was produced. Much was brought in by ship and cart. With it came the water-thieves, smugglers, gamblers, the depraved, those seeking to hide from Shuruppak, and many more looking for coin that was not earned. The streets became dangerous. The Tusaa’Ner and Sakes fought it but then became corrupted by it. The guilds and Houses bought the leaders, and those they couldn’t were lied about in the square and pushed out of Anza. Those who endured it were found lightless if they caused trouble for the guilds, the Houses, or the law.
