Scion of the Serpent: Anok, Heretic of Stygia Volume I

by J. Steven York

  Other, more specialized businesses operated as well, including the weapon keeps. Only nobles of the upper class were allowed to wear weapons within the city, and since a constant flow of servants and workman were required to support those upper classes, the weapon keeps were necessary. For a small fee, they would safely store weapons just outside the city gates, then return them to their owners as they left the city. Of necessity, weapon keeps were among the most trusted and trustworthy merchants in all of Stygia. Any who were not usually ended their careers with a weapon checked across their throats.

  Since the keeps were within easy sight of the guardians of Set watching the gates, Anok had elected to bring an extra sword and make a show of checking it while the guards were watching. Teferi left his sword, knife, and bow as well, though he grumbled to Anok throughout the entire process. As appeasement, Anok threw a few extra slivers of silver on the counter to have Teferi’s blades honed and polished before he returned.

  There were several arched gates at that portal to the city, one large one for tradesmen, where a constant line of wagons carrying goods waited for inspection, a second large gate where horses, chariots, wagons, and sedan chairs carrying ambassadors and members of the upper class were quickly ushered through, and a small pedestrian gate where servants, workers, and others of the lower class waited passage.

  The line was short at the moment, as it was late in the day, and most of the traffic was moving out of the walls rather than in. Anok let Teferi go first and planned to let him, and the gold coins already hidden in Anok’s palm, do the talking. Most of the people around them were non-Stygian, and had the well-groomed appearance of house servants. Many were probably night servants in some wealthy household and would spend the night safely locked within their masters’ houses. There were also a few whores, dressed in colorful silk robes spun through with metal threads and headpieces festooned with colorful feathers. They, too, would be spending the night in the inner city, though under somewhat different circumstances.

  In the midst of this grouping, Teferi and Anok stood out. While most of the others were quickly ushered through (though generous time was allowed to carefully search each whore for hidden weapons), the guards looked upon Teferi and Anok with obvious suspicion.

  The guardians of Set were the enforcers of the Temple of Set, which in turn was effectively the government of Stygia. They served as guards, law enforcers, tax collectors, and captains of the slave armies.

  Readily identified by their scarlet robes or sashes and ornate silver badges, most wore leather armor and were heavily armed. All were of the lower classes of Stygians, and most, like Anok, were of mixed Stygian blood. In some, that blood ran very thin.

  Still, they were greatly feared in Odji, in part because they rarely ventured there, except to collect taxes or hunt down someone who had committed a crime in the inner city. In Anok’s experience, they were downtrodden, treated poorly by their superiors and especially by the upper classes.

  They were a cruel lot, and tended to take this abuse out on any lesser who got in their way. But while they were the sort of people you didn’t want to make angry, they were ever eager to do as little work as possible and to subject themselves to danger even less.

  They were eminently bribable.

  The captain in charge, a tall man with a black beard, arms that bulged with muscles, and a belly that just bulged, sized up Teferi. He leaned on a thick walking stick, clearly intended to double as a club. “You there, Kush! What business do you have in the inner city?”

  Teferi put on his best salesman’s smile. “My friend and I are craftsmen, here to repair some broken roof tiles.”

  The guard poked at Anok’s bag with his stick. “You don’t carry many tools for such work.”

  “Most of the tools we need are already there,” said Teferi. “The work was started by other fools who got drunk and didn’t return from their noon meal. We were summoned to finish the job, and as part of our payment”—he flashed a grin—“we get to keep their tools. If they return to complain about it, I’ve been told they’ll end up on a sacrificial altar. That will teach them to disappoint a High Priest of Set!”

  The guard almost smiled.

  He checked Teferi over carefully, but the big man simply wasn’t wearing enough clothing to hide any major weapons. He waved him past, but put up a hand to stop Anok. As he reached out to pat Anok down, Anok pressed the coins into the man’s hand. “We’re in a hurry.”

  The guard glanced down at the coins glinting in his palm, careful not to show them to any of the other guards. “Tile work, it pays well, does it?”

  “For those possessing skill,” answered Anok.

  The captain stared at his closed fist for a moment, his other hand clenching reflexively around the heavy stick he carried, as though comparing the weight of each.

  Finally, he looked up at Anok. “If you’re in an equal hurry to get out of the city, see me, and we’ll have another talk about how well paid ‘skilled’ tile-workers are.” He waved Anok past. “Go!”

  The pair wasted no time in putting distance between themselves and the gate, and as they did, the crowds quickly thinned.

  Anok had only rarely been to the inner city, and the place was still a wonder to him. The streets were wide and paved with cut stone. Though the buildings themselves were dark, there was plenty of sunlight here, and the tower on the Great Temple of Set was easily visible looming before them, the statue of the half-human, half-snake god staring ominously down at them.

  Everything here was different from Odji. The streets were clean, underground sewers serving all the buildings, garbage somehow disposed of out of sight, and servants standing by on street corners to clean up manure as fast as the horses could drop it. Rather than sweat, filth, and decay, the air was filled with perfume and exotic incense.

  There was a serenity to it all, a quiet. There were no beggars, no street vendors announcing their wares, no brothels with whores displaying their naked bodies to passersby, no fights or arguments. The people on the street were mostly clean and well dressed, and they moved politely past one another on the street rather than pushing and shoving.

  Yet under it all, there was something else, something that made Anok’s skin crawl. Occasionally he would see a servant marked or bruised from a recent beating, and all of them wore an expression of subdued fear, a subtle tension that suggested punishment, or worse, was never far away for those not of high-Stygian blood.

  The signs of Set were everywhere: the red-sashed guardians, robed acolytes and priests strolling the streets, statues, stone reliefs carved into building facades, serpent shapes in chariot fittings, railings, and door handles, and of course the ever-looming presence of the temple itself.

  And under all the perfume and incense, it seemed to Anok that there was still a subtle but ever-present stench of death.

  Teferi watched out of the corner of his eye as a group of acolytes passed them on the street. As they went by, he whispered, “Maybe we’ll meet Dejal on the street, and you can forget this foolishness.”

  Anok shrugged. “Perhaps, but I’m not sure the novice acolytes can even leave the temple. That’s the most likely reason we haven’t heard from Dejal.” He looked around. “I need a place to change clothes. Let’s go up that alley.”

  They slipped into a narrow alley between two strangely subdued shops, one selling food, the other displaying clothing that seemed fit for an emperor. As with the streets there was no garbage or filth, though a slight odor from a large wooden bin behind the food shop provided a clue to part of the garbage mystery. The bin offered convenient cover, and Anok slipped behind it while Teferi kept watch. He changed into his best clean kilt and a loose tunic and cape that would help hide the swords strapped to his back under his clothing. Before putting on the tunic, he took out his knife and cut two slits in the silk just below the shoulders. That would allow him, with some difficulty, to draw the swords if necessary.

  He stuffed the other clothing in his b
ag and rejoined Teferi. “Well,” he said, “this will make me a little less conspicuous. The White Scorpions wouldn’t dare show themselves inside the inner city.”

  They resumed their walk toward the Temple of Set.

  “Anok,” said Teferi, “have you, in all your days, heard of any thief successfully breaching the temple?”

  He thought about it. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Yet everyone says the temple is full of treasure. Even in the public areas, there are said to be statues of silver and gold, encrusted with jewels. Everyone knows this is where the collected taxes and tribute from all of Khemi are taken, and that there are ancient objects of power hidden in its vaults. Even as protected as it is, even though it is within the walls of the inner city, it would be an almost irresistible target for thieves and adventurers.”

  “What of it? If I had stolen from the Temple of Set, I’d be on my way out of Stygia as fast as I could. I’d hardly be bragging about it in Odji.”

  Teferi nodded. “True, but have you ever heard of anyone who tried to penetrate the temple and failed? Even one?”

  “No,” admitted Anok, “I haven’t.”

  “Yet some must have tried, probably many. That can only mean that they entered the temple and never left!” He stopped in the street. “Give up this foolishness, Anok! Dejal cannot be a new acolyte forever. Eventually he will emerge from the temple, and we can reach him then. You must wait!”

  “Wait until Wosret and his men hunt me down and kill me in my sleep? No, I think not. If this is reckless, the alternative is suicide. No, I’m going in. If nothing else, it will without a doubt prove my sincerity to Dejal.” He resumed his walk.

  Teferi sighed and caught up with him. “I will make sure,” he said, “that your funeral is grand.”

  THEY ARRIVED AT the great temple to find two snakes there, the great bronze statue of a serpent that coiled before the entrance, and a second one, smaller, but no less fearsome. One of the great constrictor snakes known as “Sons of Set” lay sunning itself on the flagstones. Its black scales flashed with iridescent highlights of color, and its blood-colored tongue, as long as a man’s forearm, occasionally flicked out to taste the air. A lump in its middle, the size of a goat—or a child—suggested that it had recently fed and, therefore, was of little danger unless provoked.

  Even so, the reaction of the passersby was much different than it would have been in Odji. There people would have kept their distance from the snake, giving it wide berth and moving away as quickly as possible. Here, the snake drew a crowd, all of whom were the worshipers of Set, all of at least mixed Stygian blood, some commoners, some nobles.

  They gathered quite close to the snake, often less than an arm’s length away. Some made a show of lying on the stones before the snake, offering themselves, knowing that there was little chance the languid and satiated snake would take interest, even allowing the flicking tongue to taste their skin. Others knelt and begged favors of Set, some for health, love, and safety, but more often for power, wealth, or harm to an enemy, requests Set was said to be most favorable to.

  Anok’s attention was especially drawn to three figures who watched the proceedings from a discreet distance: a high-ranking acolyte and a pair of guardians of Set, each armed with a short sword and an ornate ceremonial spear. To harm one of the greater sons of Set was a capital crime, and the sentence would likely be carried out immediately, without trial or delay.

  The crowd actually served Anok’s needs. He wanted to scout around the temple discreetly, and having all eyes on the great snake was quite convenient.

  The temple was a huge and imposing building, set off from the rest of the inner city by wide plazas and court-yards scattered with low plantings, statues, and fountains. Crossing those unseen would be the first challenge. That night, however, the moon would not rise until late, giving Anok ample darkness in which to enter the temple.

  His next obstacle would be the temple walls themselves. There were few doors, and the mica-glazed windows and air shafts were located high enough in the smooth stone that they would be difficult to reach, even with rope and grapple.

  The main entrance was of little interest. By night it would be locked and heavily guarded, and there were surprisingly few other doors. Dejal’s map suggested that the lower levels of the building connected to a maze of tunnels, many of which extended out under the courtyard and likely connected to hidden entrances in other nearby buildings, but it provided no details beyond the footprint of the building itself. While those tunnels might, in a pinch, be useful for Anok’s escape, it was doubtful that he would be able to use any of them to get inside.

  He needed a way up the side of the building.

  They were almost to the rear when he found it. “Look here!” He pointed out a vertical gap in the wall to Teferi. The core of the temple was of ancient construction, and it was unlikely that it was originally built as a temple to Set. It was even possible it hadn’t been a temple at all. At some point, or points, long after its construction it had been modified, doors and windows sealed, a new facade built over the original walls, towers and wings added. Here, judging from the slightly different types of stone on either side of the gap, an extension had been added to the building.

  After first looking around to see if they were being watched, Anok placed his hand into the opening and closed it into a fist, wedging it tightly into the narrow space. He leaned back, holding his weight with the wedged hand. “Perfect.” Years earlier Rami had taught them a technique for climbing cliffs and inclines without special gear, by wedging the hands and feet into openings in the rock. They quickly discovered it worked just as well for climbing buildings and walls, a technique they had often used to their advantage.

  Teferi had never really become good at it. He disliked heights, and his larger frame was less suited to the task. But Anok had become reasonably proficient, though Sheriti was the most nimble of them all.

  Teferi looked skeptically up the wall. “You think you can climb that high?”

  “See those metal grates? According to Dejal’s map they cover air shafts. If I can just get close enough, I can hook a grapple over that decorative stonework above them and hang there long enough to pry the grate loose.”

  “You’ll have no cover at all.”

  “It’ll be dark, and with luck, if a guardian passes by, he won’t be looking for trouble this far over his head.”

  Teferi frowned. “That’s it then. The way in.”

  “You seem disappointed, old friend. You were hoping I’d decide it was impossible?”

  He grimaced. “It was a pleasant enough hope, but there’s a saying among my people. ‘Hope may grow in Stygia, but it never bears fruit.’ ”

  Anok gestured away from the building. “Let’s go somewhere less conspicuous. I need to wait for dark, and you should be heading back to the gate soon.”

  Teferi nodded. “I’ll wait for you outside the gate.”

  “The night is long, and I won’t be able to get out until morning without arousing suspicion. If I emerge any sooner, it will be with guardians in pursuit. Go home, or back to the Nest if it suits you. This is my misadventure and my downfall if it fails.”

  “To the Nest then, but I’ll be back at the gate at dawn.”

  “You don’t—”

  “Dawn,” he insisted.

  AFTER MAKING SURE that Teferi returned to the gate, Anok made a slow circuit of the inner city to kill time.

  His pace was carefully chosen, not so fast to appear to be in a hurry, not so slow so as to appear to be dawdling. He kept his eyes ahead, not making eye contact with people he met, not looking around like a gawking sightseer. His goal was to appear to have legitimate business passing through wherever he went, but nothing so urgent or immediate as to draw attention.

  It left him with little to do but think, and lately, that had been something he could do without.

  He had confidence in his own abilities, yet he was placing himself at great risk. He
might not survive, and he had to admit that, in some ways, that might be for the best. It would free not only Sheriti, but also Teferi, of any obligations to him. They could get on with their lives without him as a burden.

  He didn’t fear death, or so he told himself, but he didn’t look forward to it either, especially in the form it would most likely take inside the temple. If he were captured, he would undoubtedly be sacrificed on the altar of Set, and for an intruder on this most sacred place, the sacrifice would undoubtedly be one by slow torture.

  On the other hand, if he were to penetrate into one of the temple’s more guarded areas, he could simply jump out into plain sight, call out a challenge, and be relatively sure of death by combat, probably with the satisfaction of taking many of Set’s followers with him. A quick, glorious death. It was almost appealing.

  Yet that wouldn’t do either. Any option that might end his miserable existence and set his friends free, would also leave his father’s spirit unavenged and restless. He would die himself, without ever knowing the answers to the questions that tortured him. And what of this sister, whose very existence was now in question?

  No. He had to make his plan work, whatever the cost, no matter how hard it would be.

  But could he do it? Could he carry out the dark deeds he would doubtless be called upon to commit in the service of Set? If a few lies tortured him, could he live with his entire existence as one great lie?

  “Let fate and skill decide it,” he said to himself. “If I survive to join the temple, then I will do whatever must be done.”

  He noticed that the sun was now out of sight and the sky had turned red as blood. There were few pedestrians now, most of them in a hurry to get home or to the gates out of the inner city. He made his way back to the area of shops near the temple. He slipped down an alleyway behind a closed bakery.