"But what if I have an emergency?"
"Just say 'land' in a loud commanding voice, and it'll go down," she said, shrugging. "But like I said earlier, be very careful what you say, or how you say it. We wouldn't want the bird misunderstanding you." Stepping back, "Now, tell it to stand and then say 'finished.'"
Cat took a deep breath then licked her lips. "Stand!" The bird stood promptly. After taking another deep breath, "Finished!"
Danica smiled at Cat's yelp when the bird jumped up onto the perch. She suppressed the laugh, not wanting to upset the bravo any more. Cat was enduring a lot for her at the moment. Just on her word that she had been wronged. It took a lot of guts to face down a fear like that. She remembered her first warhawk ride, and she had wanted to do it.
Danica climbed up the rope ladder, settled into her saddle, and fastened her safety strap. Then she pulled up the ladder and secured it to the cantle. Glancing around to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything, she frowned at the empty saddle sleeve. They couldn't take the time to get saddlebags of food, water, and other supplies. Both were leaving behind everything they owned. But they had chosen saddles with both bows and arrows and javelins present. If need be, they could defend themselves.
Giving Cat the thumbs up, she took a tight hold of the pommel and commanded, "Fly!"
The warhawk's wings spread as it crouched. With a screech, it launched itself into the air. That old thrill took her as it climbed quickly on snapping wings. She realized the ride was a bit rougher than she had told Cat. Once the birds reached the altitude with which they would make the trip, they would be gliding more often than not. Cat might be a little shaken at first, but the remaining ride would soothe her fears.
Glancing back, she saw with satisfaction that Cat was following her up. She'd had a nagging fear the bravo wouldn't be able to give the command to follow.
Chapter 17
It was coming up on noon when they first spotted the ancient city of Ismat al-Haratha. The city sat upon a great three-tiered rock formation. From a distance, the whitewashed city looked like two white stripes and a crown on the reddish-brown hill.
Normally, water seeped up to springs atop the formation. The citizens had long since learned to channel these waters for their own use, but the water pressure increased dramatically during the spring melt in the Tyr Mountains to the south. That forced water up through a multitude of smaller, tighter cracks all over the formation. And that water spilled into the streets and over the cliff walls where algae came to life and turned the cliffs bluish-green. It is an annual event celebrated by the local population with parades and street festivals.
Every spring the excess water collected at the base of the formation to form a shallow lake. The local farmers used it to irrigate their fields for the spring planting. Because of it their fields were some of the most productive in all of the Qakara Desert.
The city itself had built, and was continuing to build, great cisterns deep inside the rock to collect and store the water. That water provided most of the irrigation for the rest of the year. Since the main springs provided a steady flow year round, the citizens of Ismat al-Haratha rarely needed to tap into the cisterns for everyday use.
As they neared, the city and its surrounding fields looked like an island of green within a sea of golden sand and reddish rock. Small castles beside villages dotted the surrounding countryside. Each castle sat atop another spring, which in turn provided irrigation water for the surrounding fields. Ismat al-Haratha's plentiful water supply was the envy of the Desert Kingdoms.
The spring melt was past, and the annual lake long gone. The seasonal lake bed was now a lush green with ripening produce. As they grew nearer, Danica could make out the thin ditches of stone-lined irrigation ditches radiating out from the many springs.
The great rock formation itself was back to its usual reddish color. There were a scattering of buildings on the dried up lake bed. Mostly farmsteads on stilts. Just outside the massive Castle Gate at the base of the formation was a raised area of ramshackle inns and stables, where those who arrive too late in the evening stayed until the gates opened in the morning. The wide paved road leading up to and crossing the seasonal lake was also atop high earthen works.
The Castle Gate was easily twice as big as her ancestral home castle, Drakehorn Castle. Like the city above, its massive stone walls and towers were whitewashed and gleamed in the bright desert sun. Tiny pinpoints of reflected light showed her that its ramparts were well-guarded by armed and armored men. The fortress guarded the entrance into the wide, spiraling tunnel up to the city proper.
Danica had been to the city several times, but this was the first time she had come in astride a warhawk. The city wasn't as spectacular within as it was from a distance. Inside the city it was cramped and crowded, and smelled to the high heavens of human and animal waste. Fortunately, they wouldn't be staying long.
Once, long ago, it had been one of the most breathtaking of the desert cities inside and out, but a Tyrian warlord led his displaced clan down and conquered the city. His ancestors still ruled, and since its conquest the city had decayed into just another Tyrian city. Most of the older, more spectacular structures have long since collapsed from the Tyrians' lack of understanding of their upkeep. In their place, the city's Tyrian masters erected the drab, somber buildings they favored.
Almost as soon as they spotted the city, its patrolling air cavalry spotted them. A wing of ten warhawks dropped out of one of the few clouds and surrounded them. One drew close.
"Declare yourselves!" the soldier demanded.
Danica could barely hear him over the roar of wind in her ears. She looked him over quickly, but carefully. He was slight of build, like most Hawkers, with long brown hair. His hair was held out of his eyes by the traditional red headband of Tyrian Hawkers. He wore black knee boots, red leather breeches, and the red vest of a Hawker, no shirt or armor. She determined he was a Captain, Wing Commander, by the emblazon on the two small snapping flags mounted on his cantle, on either side of the larger Ismat al-Haratha flag.
"Riders going home to the Empire!" she cried. It was safe. The Amazon Empire wasn't at war with anyone, and a couple of mercenary Hawkers wouldn't be considered a threat. "We request permission to land. Our birds need food and water, and so do we!"
He nodded and waved them on. Then he led his wing away without a look back. Danica grinned as she watched them leave.
"By the Gods, I'm good," she laughed.
Turning in the saddle, she checked to see how Cat was holding up. She was pleased to see the bravo looked relatively relaxed, but with her fingers still stuck in her ears to relieve the roar of the wind. Earlier in their trip she had been holding tightly onto the pommel's saddle horn. Danica had been prepared to just accept that her newfound companion was a white knuckle flyer. Now all she had to worry about was finding them each a pair of earplugs.
Waving to get her attention, "Follow me in!" When Cat nodded, Danica gave her bird the order. "Drop into the city."
She knew the command wasn't specific enough, but once she spotted the warhawk aeries she would correct its course. As it stood, the warhawk would probably land on the city walls, or in the middle of some bazaar. She grinned at the commotion landing in either of those places would cause, especially the bazaar.
As they neared the city, Danica spotted four aeries. Three were on the lowest tier, and the other on the middle tier. The topmost tier didn't have any aeries she could see. Indeed, all she could see there were the sprawling palace of the Queen, and the magnificent temples of the city's main Gods. She located the Temple of Maag across a great plaza from the royal palace.
Altering their course, she took them in a wide circle around the city. During that time she spotted two more warhawk aeries, one each on the two lower tiers, but the one on the lowest level was the city's air cavalry base.
Deciding on the first aerie she’d seen on the middle tier, she led Cat in. As they approached, she told the bird which perch
she wanted to take. She chose a pair of perches fartherest from the gate.
They came to a landing one right after another in a thunder of wings and roars. Easily half the other warhawks present answered their birds' challenges with their own. It always gave Danica a thrill to see and hear these magnificent beasts trumpeting their challenges and defiance at each other and the Gods, but she decided not to share that with Cat. Her nervous companion might not fly away with her later if she knew what the odds were of several of these warhawks actually attacking each other. There were good reasons why warhawks were always perched out of reach of each other.
Looking at Cat with a wide grin of joy, "Now tell me you didn't love that!"
Smiling sheepishly, she shrugged. "I admit I did rather enjoy the trip. Especially since it didn't eat me."
"Speaking of that," Danica said, releasing the ladder and her safety strap. "Let's get our birds some meat and water." Danica's bird cried its approval, or so she took it to mean that. One could never be sure with warhawks.
They had been flying almost constantly since their escape two nights back from Tamera, a thousand miles to the west. They lived on fruit taken from date palms at the rare oases, where they had stopped to water and rest their birds. The warhawks hadn't eaten at all, and Danica had forced a grueling pace for even well fed birds.
She climbed down and met Cat with a smile between the roosts. She could tell right away that the big woman had loved it more than she was willing to admit. Gone was her usually somber expression, replaced with eyes full of wonder and a shy smile.
"I hope you have a lot of coin," Danica said, pulling the purse off her own belt. "They'll eat a cow apiece, at least. Three if we let them."
Cat whistled, then checked her purse, "That'll wipe me out." She poured her life savings into her palm, "How will we feed them when our coin runs out?"
"Hunting," she said, counting her own coins. Her own purse was considerably better off. She was still wearing some of the gold and silver jewelry given to her by the girls at the Golden Girl, and that alone was more than enough to roost the warhawks and keep her and Cat in food and ale for several days. "Between us, we have plenty to feed them and ourselves for most of the trip to Allaria."
"Maybe we should stay here and get a job. With the extra money we could fly down to Allaria without worrying about how to pay for roosting our birds," Cat said.
"No, afraid not. Unless we did illegal jobs, we would barely be able to keep our birds fed with our meager wages," Danica argued. "Warhawks are expensive to keep. No, if necessary we'll hunt for their food and camp in the woods at night."
"What'll we eat?"
"Leftovers from their kills."
Cat looked up at her warhawk, which looked down at her with that fierce hawklike stare of theirs. Danica grinned and patted her arm.
"Don't worry, they don't mind sharing once they eat their fill."
After unsaddling the warhawks, they saw to it they were well fed and watered. Then they headed into the bustling city, purses considerably lighter. Their first stop was a goldsmith's shop, where Danica hocked her jewelry for an obscenely low price.
As they walked away, Cat said, "What now? You never told me where we were to find this talisman."
Danica glanced around to ensure no one was listening, "The witch I guess I told you about sent me here to steal a powerful talisman."
"What?" Cat cried. "You never said anything about stealing!"
Throwing a hand over her mouth, "Will you be quiet?"
"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what could happen to us?"
"Yes, I do," she said. "Do you want to know?"
Cat's eyes went wide a second. "No. It'll be best if I don't know."
"Very well. Let's go up to the Quisarri Quarter," she said, making for a tunnel disappearing into the side of the cliff. "The Temple of Maag is there, and that's where we'll find the talisman."
"Stealing from the Gods," Cat said, eyes big. "Is this really necessary?"
"It is unless you want to fight a sorceress without magical protection."
"God of Mercy," she groaned. "I should've known you were trouble."
"What should've? You knew," Danica said. "I never said otherwise."
They tramped up the whitewashed tunnel amid the crowds. The torch lit passage was a wonder to both women. It was carved out of the living rock, with various side tunnels and vast storerooms all along the way. Indeed, the whole mesa was a labyrinth of such tunnels. Most of the city's goods and foods were stored deep in the cool storerooms. In some tunnels people had even carved out homes for themselves.
The tunnel opened out onto the Quisarri Quarter near the outer walls. Danica led Cat over and they gazed down on the rest of the city. High defensive walls weren't necessary in Ismat al-Haratha, so the battlements were only about shoulder high to Danica. Mostly, they were there to keep people from falling off. From their vantage point, they could see the Marganti Quarter where they had left their warhawks, and the wide Issuri Quarter far below that.
"Look at this," Danica said, leaning through a crenel and out over the wall to look down. "We're directly over the warhawk aerie. See our birds over there?"
"Yes. So?"
Danica smiled, "It gives me an idea for an escape, should we need it."
She tried to judge the distance to the level below, figuring it to be at least one hundred feet. The thought of escaping over the side made her head spin. Carl would've loved the danger of it. Cat, not so much.
"I'd rather not hear it just yet. Just thinking about it makes my legs tingle," Cat said. She looked around with interest, "What do you know of the city and its past?"
"You've never been here?"
"No."
Danica told Cat what little she knew of the city and its unique history, which wasn't much. Most of the city's history was lost when the Tyrians conquered them, since their new overlords actively tried to suppress it to kill any spark of rebellion.
"What do the names of the different quarters mean? Are they the names of ancient rulers?" Cat asked as they made their way to the Temple of Maag. Danica suspected she was using idle conversation to cover her nervousness at stealing a talisman from a Goddess. "And if so, are they Tyrians or the older Tyrasillian rulers?"
Danica was more than a little impressed. Most people of the region didn't know about the Tyrasillian Empire, for which the Tyr Mountains were named. Most people barely knew their own kingdom's recent history.
Danica shrugged. "No one knows for sure. They aren't the names of Tyrians, for sure. Some believe they are the names of three tribes that originally settled here." Looking up, "Ah, our prayers have been answered, the temple."
She gave Cat a mischievous wink, then led the way in.
"Don't make jokes like that," Cat said. "You want to anger the Gods?"
"Takes more than my dumb jokes to anger a God," she said.
Shifting to her magic sight, Danica began studying the High Altar as they approached. She silently marveled at the bright Magicks surrounding the priests and various altars. Only the talisman disappointed her. It alone wasn't shrouded in the misty light that indicated magic. Danica had expected it to radiate power, like the intense beacon of pink and blue the High Altar proved to be.
The temple was typically ancient Tyrasillian. It was built on a massive scale and open. Basically, it was a great round marble dome supported by equally impressive fluted marble columns. Frolicking unicorns were carved into the capitals and bases of those columns. In the exact center, beneath the high dome and atop a raised dais two steps high, the High Altar sat beneath a towering statue of Maag, Goddess of Magic. Her statue and altar were carved out of pink and light blue marble, her colors, whereas the rest of the temple was entirely out of stark white marble. Scenes of Maag's heavenly realm were painted on the dome high above, promises of an idyllic afterlife for the faithful. Evenly spaced inside the innermost row of columns, there were two such colonnades supporting the dome, were an even dozen smal
ler altars. Every altar had a life-sized statue of the Goddess. Most of the people knelt before these altars to say their prayers, burn incense, and give their offerings of food and wine and coin. Periodically, the priests would collect all the offerings.
"Kneel," Danica whispered to Cat as they came to the base of the High Altar. "See the crystal globe in Maag's hand? That's what we're after."
"Oh, Gods," Cat whispered. "She wants to steal something right out of the Goddess's hands! I'm doomed."
When Danica was satisfied with her knowledge of the temple's layout, they retreated to a side altar and pretended to be meditating. While Cat fidgeted nervously, Danica watched the priests conducting their ceremonies and, even more intently, the temple's guards making their rounds.
Not all temple guards were incompetent and ill-trained. Some temples fielded highly trained and disciplined guards. The most respected were the Guard Orders of Bandu and his twin sister, Ashtar. As the twin Gods of War, they demanded their priests guard the temples, and even their priests were vicious fighters.
The Temple of Maag had one of the worst reputations when it came to mundane guards. But then, being the Goddess of Magic, everyone assumed her temples were the best protected of all. All priests wielded the magic granted them by their chosen God, but Maag's priesthood was also required to practice actual Sorcery. They tended to be excellent wizards and sorceresses, with all of that lot's idiosyncrasies and paranoias. Which included surrounding themselves with powerful wards at all times.
Danica could see at least some Magicks, but felt there were more she couldn't. She hadn't been able to see her birth control spell, or that of any other woman. She didn't know what it was about that spell, but knew she had to be cautious until she found out. The only Magicks she could detect within the temple were concentrated around the altars themselves. Even the talisman appeared unprotected by magic.
Turning to Cat, "Ready to go?"
"An hour ago," she said, glancing around nervously.
"Calm down, you already look guilty," Danica said, frowning.
The Elfmaid's Curse (The Elfmaid Trilogy Book 1) Page 25
