Red World Trilogy

by V. A. Jeffrey

  “Well. Make sure you eat well and attend to your studies Anet. Instructress Helga and Mother Berenice will continue with your lessons. I will write to you instructions by falcon when the need arises for more information and instruction. You are well read for one so young. Be better read and continue to memorize what you read for one day you will have to give your own proclamations against wickedness and you will have to be bold about doing it. You may not always have access to scrolls and books in a warm library.” Said Ilim, then he got up and left on his own business for the day. She was both relieved and a little sad. She did not like this man but he had a great presence and zeal that impressed her. Still, it would be better to get her lessons through the guardian scions and Mother Berenice. They weren't as grim as he was.

  Each morning, afternoon and night there was the ram's horn call to prayer, the recitation of the Law and the Writings. Ilim had known this ritual all his life yet he missed the elemental, primitive ways of the worship of the wild peoples who followed it. It was the very center of life and brought them to life, a circle in which everyone danced around and around. Not the stilted ritualistic mummery at the temple which had come to mean nothing but behind it was blackness. It struck in him a fervor he'd thought vanished. Here, there were no court intrigues, politicking, gaming or bribes for this and that. It reminded him of his time living with the Karig, teaching and instructing many children of the tribe and his thoughts went to Khalit, who rejected the old ways for the world. A world now that stood condemned and one that Khalit helped to further corrupt. It saddened him. The king was now his enemy. He packed his few things and went to see Mother Berenice one last time.

  “My sister, I shall leave you now. I will write to you and send instructions for Anet, as they come to me.”

  “You go to pave the way.” She said smiling serenely. He bowed his head slightly.

  “One never knows what is in store during tumultuous times as these.” He said.

  “It is strange too since we are doing the roiling and tumult!” She said. Ilim smiled at this.

  “Say not that we are, but that God is.” He chided, She laughed gently.

  “My brother, you are right, you are right. I meant to ask you, how is Anet coming along?”

  “She is coming along all right. She needs to concentrate better but she is young. She is also sharp. I have arranged for two of the warriors to help in her training. Night training, weapons training, also her regular studies of history and the holy book. Concentrate on the prophets, the sayings and the histories especially, for her. Memorization is important. Take her aside and train her privately if you can. God has made it known to me that she shall be the first desert prophetess raised up.” Mother Berenice's eyes widened with excitement.

  “Long have I desired to see this day when a desert prophet would come again. I thought I'd never see it and now I see two before me. A desert prophetess. Think the Ainash will hate that?”

  “Who should care? They have acted disgracefully and have not kept the ways of holiness. Because of them some of the people are losing their way. I have seen many evil things in my dreams. Some of our people have even turned to other gods. Gods that require far more than readings and prayers. Has she come to you about her dreams, Mother Berenice?”

  “Not yet. I have encouraged her to come to me but she has not truly done so.”

  “She may and she will need your guiding hand through prayer in understanding them.” He said and sighed heavily. “Well, I must go.”

  “Do you have enough food for your journey?”

  “I do and I thank you and your sisters and your kindness to a poor brother of the desert.” He said.

  “Then I hope to see you again. May there be peace within you, brother. You are always welcome here.”

  “And may there be peace within you and with this house.” He said. With that he took his leave upon a mule. The townspeople and the people of the land came up to see him off.

  “Be careful, father!” A man said.

  “Jhis is a dangerous and evil place! Badness abounds everywhere there!” Cried a woman. Ilim smiled but did not say a word. Gaminites were good-natured but very provincial and firmly set in their ideas about anything outside of their province. But there were many good people even in Jhis and many were not part of the faithful. He was being sent not only to warn and denounce the wicked but to give heart to the faithful and to others inclined to listen, to teach the ignorant of the God whose arm was coming to crush the scorpions' nests and rebuild a kingdom. A prophet was now in the land.

  “Perhaps now we shall see the prophecy come true.” Said the people as they watched the prophet riding upon his mule down the hill that morning and toward the city.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Celebrations had gone on far longer than any one had anticipated after the royal wedding. The city was drunk on wild abandon, of the pleasures of food and flesh. It was in this state that Ilim had come back and he did not hold back. He took his position at the gate of the temple and preached denunciations against the excesses of the priesthood and their hypocrisy with a voice like that of a demi-god, frightening - and angering - many. There were times when people perceived that his whole countenance glowed with white fury. This drew crowds, especially some who were awaiting prophecy. It also drew the curious who thought he might perform some wondrous trick.

  It also drew the ire of the royal court and the Golden Temple and the priests sought to have him killed.

  King Khalit found it all amusing - as Ilim had not yet turned his attention upon him - and let the prophet be, busying himself with every pleasure he could find or create. It was now seven months after the wedding but to the king and queen life was blissful and full of frivolity. They traveled to watch the camel races on the western outskirts of the city, setting up great pavilions for the court to stay at the games which was extended for weeks. There were chariot races and horse races at the arena and much gaming that went on in those races of which the king won and lost great amounts of gold and silver, wild revelries at night which extended to the streets, from noble to commoner. Part of this revelry was encouraged because of the new temple being built to Elyshe and Nimnet, at the request of the queen and her father. They encouraged the people to enjoy themselves as the queens of the night, it was said, would be well pleased by it. Cedar from the forests of the south of Hybron, strong Hybronian iron from the north, red stone and great amounts of silver were imported to Jhis and the temple building began in earnest after the first week of the wedding celebrations and was still in progress. Queen Taliat was now seven months pregnant and her father's counselors and fortune-tellers had all assured the king that she was carrying a son. They had shown him many signs and even the queen herself was preparing for the son to be born, having her body painted with the symbols of her house to aid in good fortune for the birth. All this swayed the king's heart toward her even more.

  “Rejoice my love and do not hold back your hand from doing anything you desire for you shall have a strong and worthy son!” She said to him in the night when he came to visit her.

  And when the king was away she and her servants studied the lay of the palace and the movements of everyone in it.

  “So much freedom the former queen must have had. To come and go as one pleases. So wonderful for a woman.”

  “He will not allow it for Your Greatness. She has made it difficult.” Said the maidservant as she slowly painted another falcon on the center of her swollen belly. Her hands, feet, legs, arms and back were covered in painted symbols and family names. A mute maidservant polished the queen's bronze and silver mirrors, filled her many perfume flasks of alabaster with myrrh, frankincense and other oils and perfumes and ground the kohl and brilliantly colored dye powders for the queen's ivory and stone cosmetic palettes. A faint shifting noise was heard in the lidded basket that sat on a stone table by the bed. Vala stiffened slightly, switching her tail sharply while watching the basket carefully.

  “What shall we
do about Salayma, mistress?” The servant woman giggled, an unnerving, high-pitched sound.

  “Ah, Salayma. I had almost forgotten her. Did she not have a daughter for the king?” She said softly.

  “She did. Or so I hear.”

  “I have heard that she would boast even to the face of the former queen. How unbecoming. I shall invite her to dine with me tonight, Setimet. Use the red paint there, mixed with the venom.” The queen pointed to a red stone palette on the bed. “Salayma. Yes. I have a plan, Setimet.”

  “You do, Your greatness?” Asked Setimet eagerly.

  “Yes. She will not understand her sudden and mysterious powers over me after supper.” The queen smiled slyly. Vala made a concerned mewl, looking up at her.

  “Do not worry over the basket, my beloved Vala. I will attend to it, later, when the time is right. Besides Setimet, it is Diti that I actually want to speak to.” The maidservant giggled.

  “He has been in there for some time, mistress. Perhaps the Lady Diti would like a visit.” The queen's gaze was cool and unblinking. Setimet finished painting.

  “Her heart is with her people. Yet, she has changed a thing and now that I have taken her place, I find it is not to my liking. My father would have it so, kept in dim and luxurious rooms with no windows to the outside world, as if I were still unmarried and not a queen.”

  “It is too bad this thing has been done. She is like an old hen who cannot lay eggs. She should die!”

  “Shh! Your tongue is loose, Setimet. Would you like to be like Yadua over there?” She pointed to the sullen, mute maid- servant who did not even look up but continued on with her tasks.

  “Oh no, no. . .” Cried Setimet.

  “Be quiet. We must tread carefully with Lady Diti. She is no small matter.” She said, stroking Vala'a sleek black fur. “Is it, Vala?” Vala purred and the queen laughed, low and throaty. Then she set the cat aside. Vala padded to her pallet of pillows under the bed. The queen gestured to the little table.

  “Bring me the basket.”

  Tenan slept lightly that night. A soothing breeze bathed his damp skin with the blessed breath of the queens of the night sky. He had not thought he would spend so much time here but it was time to go back home. He wanted to die on his own soil in Egium. He had decided some weeks ago that he would stop taking Lady Sawda's potions. He was bone tired and ready to pass on and join the gods but he still had a few last preparations for his tomb to oversee. But he could not sleep. The thin voluminous curtains at the windows billowed and flew open like wide, delicate wings. The first eye of the moons looked on, high in the sky, casting shadows in the room. He lifted himself up with great effort and reached for the small silver goblet on the stand by his bed. He poured a bit of water from the ewer and drank. It was refreshingly cool and he was glad of it, considering how hot the last few days had been, even this far into fall. An unusually hot year. he thought. But the nights were gradually becoming chillier. His daughter, married to the king and pregnant, his family now had the throne in their grasp. A barbarian on the throne. He sniffed. It was no small matter to allow her to marry, after all he could not say no and he hated the thought of his daughter even being touched by the heathen but the throne was at stake. There was wisdom in it. Though they hated each other, his brother would take over family power when he died. Unless the king said otherwise. His brother was still far superior to any savage. The family name itself would go on and Strabians would eventually rule Hybron as they had ruled Egi. Tenan laughed to himself. Egi has won out after all. He would have a letter sent to his brother as soon as he arrived home. He would leave later this week but there needed to be family influence here in Jhis. The more, the better. He sipped water, dreaming on the glories of times past of Egium and the famed Night Markets. He looked down at his arm. In the moonlight he could still see the wounds made by the knife to draw blood for the painting ritual. All precautions had to be taken to protect this child. A woman was but a vessel, some better than others but all in the service of creating heirs. The counselors had told him she had done well in producing what looked to be a healthy son by their portents. If she hadn't he would have found a way to have her strangled for shaming him.

  Immersed in thought he did not notice the small shadow that crept slowly into his room. Vala's shining eyes were the only thing visible in the darkness away from the moonlit windows. She slipped under the bed. After her, it came, sliding across the floor just has silently as she, long and dark, it's tongue slipping in and out, sensing the air around it and picking up the scent of its target. She crept close to Tenan's feet to mark where the target sat. It stared at Vala and stopped. And then it suddenly glided across the floor with frightening swiftness, reared up and made the deadly strike. Tenan cried out but the venom worked nearly as fast as his sudden, shocked cry, which was cut off as his body began to stiffen and turn white. He dropped the goblet and fell over into the bed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on land. After some moments he finally drew his last struggling breaths as the venom worked quickly, spreading through his body with deadly efficiency with each exhalation. Vala slipped from the room. The serpent, its jeweled colors dulled in the dimness of night, followed lazily behind.

  Rhajit enjoyed himself at the Victor's House. The food was the best that could be found in the city besides the palace and he was allowed to heal and relax for as long as was needed until he was strong enough for the battles in the arena. The organs of the lions had long been delivered and he fed upon it, gaining strength every day to the amazement of the other warriors. He had gained the esteem and respect of most of them when he was challenged by several and quickly dispatched them. Everyone wanted to meet him and he had his pick of nearly any woman in the city, of which he gladly took. But Rhajit had business. He was practically a prisoner as he was not allowed to leave the city since he was the city's top victor, to his dismay. He “belonged to the palace” and now existed for the king's pleasure, as he was told by one of the house guards. Other than that, he had command of the house, ladre, the best trainers, invitations to train for the chariot teams, everything a man could want. He also found that he had a way to achieve his ends through this ascent in status. He had befriended a guard who knew a few people and a few things in the bowels of the city. Day after day, week after week they would talk and Rhajit would invite him to eat with him. It was one afternoon after a massage that he approached the matter fully. He was eating roasted figs and lamb and invited the guard to eat with him, as usual. He poured a rich, spicy olive oil over the meat, anointing it and poured the guard wine and they talked and laughed of gaming, childhood mishaps, troubles and fights. Soon Rhajit came to what he actually wanted to know.

  “Do you know anything about a man named Teman? He is one of the priests of the Golden Temple.”

  “What about him?”

  “I need to find this man. As you know, long ago I left my family to come to the city. They have since moved away and I do not know where they are. He used to be an old family friend. He may have some news or know where they are.”

  “An old friend, eh? I have no idea who this man is.” Rhajit reached into a large satchel by the table and set several gold coins in front of him.

  “Perhaps you know someone who can find out?” The man grabbed the coins and looked at Rhajit with a knowing grin.

  “I may be able to make inquiries as to who he is. What do you need?”

  “Where he resides, when he comes and goes from the temple. Be discreet. I do not want questions coming back to me.”

  “Huh. Friend, you say?” The guardian asked dryly. Rhajit grinned.

  “As long as I am here, there is more gold and silver, should I need more information. Do you foresee any problems?” Rhajit asked, sucking the fat off his fingers. The man smiled, showing a huge gap from teeth broken in a fight long ago.

  “As long as there is gold, no problem at all.”

  . . .

  The last one finally arrived. It was midnight but he called fo
r tea service anyway. They would be here for some time.

  “The streets are rife with rabble. Whores everywhere! When will it end? And since when does Bakku call for us to meet?” Complained one of the nobles, a young man. The high priest, Silam Tybbl-Awat, gave him a disdainful look.

  “Bakku is the king's messenger. If he has something to say I am sure it is important.” Said one of the older noblemen.

  “Do you come from a mud village that you should be astonished at the normal comings and goings in the city? So long as it does not affect what we do here why be concerned about what is in the street?” Said Silam. He ignored the snipe at Bakku. They were meeting in his father's home, one of the foremost nobles of the land. His father was once one of the ruling officials, one of the Kushimen, before the tyrant invaded the city and made himself king. They would never forgive King Khalit for this but they also feared him. And secretly looked for a way to bring about his downfall.

  Bakku had called for the meeting. Months after the horror of the arena, nerves were still frayed to the very edge and tempers often flared at the temple. They needed to do something to ensure their own security. It was twice now he survived a death sentence under this tyrant and it was time to act before a third incident presented itself. And there was a way out.

  Finally, all of the most important ones of the temple and the community had gathered, thirteen priests, including the high priest and a few of the most important noblemen. Tea was set out on the table by a servant. Bowls of water were set for washing, which they all did, religiously.

  “So,” began Silam, “Bakku. What shall we do?” Bakku rose. Everyone gathered was still visibly shaken.