Red World Trilogy

by V. A. Jeffrey

  But to wield a sword like that! It would certainly punctuate his days with excitement in between the reading of the Holy Writings and the Laws.

  Chapter Two

  Taliat the queen enacted laws and built schools for the noble daughters of the lands of Egi and Hybron and under her more wealth flowed into the kingdom. But a price was exacted and to pay that price the people of Hybron followed the Egians and the Zapulians in sacrificing their sons and daughters to the gods of Egi, to Nimnet and Elyshe. She also took to harrying and attacking the tribes around about Hybron and Egi. For the lands and the mountainous regions they roamed and lived upon were rich with metals and precious gems. This was the new wealth of the land and the price to keep it was blood. The land prospered. Yet, she was not satisfied and became greatly concerned with the prophecies of the Red King, to know them and to change them by seeking to kill her son.

  - The Fourth Book of the Kings 1:10, Translations of The Holy Aishanna

  The Month of Pin, 1700 A. T. V.

  He carefully opened the black resin boxes and examined the precious objects closely. All three that he'd ordered were there. Exquisite in detail, painstakingly beautiful etching of arcane spells. And deadly. It was exciting to finally have these precious things, banned for so many years, in his possession. The scorpions were made of lacquered shell and copper. It had taken three years since their commission and they were made by some of the finest craftsmen in Egium. A collusion between certain Golden Alchemists and Black Alchemists, a thing known but never acknowledged openly. He closed each of the boxes carefully.

  "Superb in every detail. The queen will be well pleased with the gift." Said Bakku. "But I must test them to see if they work. Bring me one of the creatures there." He said to a manservant standing nearby.

  "Of course, sire." Said the envoy-alchemist. A rat was handed to him from a basket. He took one of the gleaming mechanical scorpions out of its box, the largest one, and with a candle flame he lit its metal wicker on its side so that it became red hot. He hung the rat by its tail in front of it, dangling the squirming creature. It screeched and tried to bite his hand. He slapped its head. Suddenly and without warning the scorpion's tail lashed out and impaled the rat. Bakku jumped in fear and surprised at its speed. The animal shuddered as the scorpion continued to stab until it impaled its tail deep into the rat's brain. The rat convulsed for a few moments more, blood trickling from its mouth and then eventually it went still. He was satisfied. They would be even more effective when those long, forceful stingers were filled with poison, of which the queen kept a large collection.

  "Are you well pleased, sire?" Asked the envoy. He and his companion were envoys of the Black Guild and in the employ of a powerful alchemist named Erol, who it was said could create terrible things and that he had the secret knowledge of the gods. All alchemical arts were banned from Hybron but Bakku had ways of getting around this. So did others. The queen had welcomed the idea of alchemists and their works in the land, secretly, so long as they could serve her purposes and she had specifically invited a man who it was rumored had a connection with the Black Guild in Egi.

  The envoy-alchemists before him were dressed in their characteristic black garb. They did not wear their cone-shaped hats or their metal symbols for fear of attack while in Hybron.

  "I am well pleased. I have your fee and tell your master that I may have need of his services again one day. These are not only effective but quite beautiful. Impressive." The envoys both smiled slyly.

  "A thing worth doing is always worth doing well, sire. Our master would do no less. We are happy to relay your message, sire." Said the first envoy. They bowed as he handed them the fee - one hundred-fifty silver ingots in three plain wooden carrying cases. He took away the flame and the scorpion died down. He then placed the scorpion carefully back in its box and poured himself a tall goblet of scorpion wine after the men left. If the queen's astrologers, spies and huntsmen could not do what could be done to find the boy, perhaps these could flush him out.

  . . .

  The air was cool but it would be another hot day later on. As usual the sky was blindingly clear. Not even the usual thin, wispy clouds that floated so high in the sky had appeared. A maid servant took away the tray with the jeweled ewer and her silver goblet of the daily elixir. She savored the taste. The sweetness of the drink gone, the bitterness now settled in at the roof of her mouth. Thus it would be like this for the transformation. She now ate only from silver plates or drank from silver goblets for the metal of silver had healing properties. She desired purification at all times even in the smallest things and silver was the element of purification. She sighed and lay back against the balcony, stroking Vala. The cat purred softly. The queen's hair, nearly to her knees now, was being combed, oiled and braided. If only she could have the precious balsam oil to scent it. The most precious of oils. Oil of the First One, it was said. She wanted it for its healing and calming properties but it was exceedingly rare and hard to come by, even for the privileged.

  The queen was lounging on her bedroom balcony, a massive space with a sprawling garden now built into it. The trees planted in urns gave her shade from the sun. In front of the palace across the way, sat the temple to Nimnet, which was nearly finished. When that was complete her duty to the gods would be finished and she would be richly rewarded for all her hard work. It had been stressful but the prize more than worth all the blood in the world. And much blood had been spilled and more yet would be before the end of it. The edict she'd sent out years ago after the king died, the edict to every temple, office and every public space, that she and Khalit were to be acknowledged as divine on earth and an offering was to be made of incense or an oath given, had changed everything. Her desires then grew into a reality regarding godhood. Kahlit had died and in the minds of the people had joined the gods but she would do something different. The image to her that he wanted made had been diverted to Nimnet's temple. It helped root out anyone who might pose a problem; execution for anyone who did not acknowledge the divine couple. She had embarked on something never done before and it was serious business. Divine Business.

  Yadua, finished with oiling a thick section of hair until it shined like onyx, began to braid it down. In the distance from where they were was The Forest. The executed, impaled on high stakes for their crimes; stealing, murder and other petty crimes and the worst offense of all: refusing to acknowledge her divinity - or soon to be complete divine essence, in any case. It included anyone who mentioned their belief of any prophecy of the Aishanna-La. The stench of the corpses and the blood, excrement and viscera that it produced had long been one that had receded into the background of the other scents of Jhis and became woven into the tapestry of its essence but on hotter days it was brought forward before all other smells. The fragrant imported lemon and orange trees of the palace gardens and the giant orchids and irises and other imported flowers on her balcony garden usually masked it.

  "Please finish up, Yadua. I do not have all day. Or I will have another of your fingers cut off." She said, irritated. Yadua bowed and deftly quickened her braiding pace, pinning the front braids together with the jeweled pins and then affixed her silver diadem with the sapphire gems. She gathered up the combs and the other accessories on a tray and then bowed low. The queen waved her away and sat down on her divan as Yadua left. Another servant cleared her throat.

  "Your Greatness, the huntsman is here."

  "Bring him to me."

  "The queen will see you now." She heard the woman say, farther inside the bedroom. She heard his sturdy footfalls approaching. She sighed in exasperation. Why do things happen so slowly? When her father was alive if something needed to be done it seemed it was done instantly. Vala continued to purr and did not stir but Taliat knew the cat was attentive to everything. But this was not work for a palace pet. The man dropped to one knee and bowed before her. She was impatient.

  "And what have you found?"

  "I sent men to Rhuctium on information
I have, to find boys of fifteen years who have your likeness. Surely though, this is difficult work Your Greatness. This could be any boy in the land and there is no proof the boy may be your. . .relation."

  "The priestess has given me incontrovertible proof of the boy's looks. He looks like myself, I am told. He is my very image and he has eyes like mine and my father's."

  "It may very well be that we will have to haul in half the boys in the kingdom to the palace."

  "You will, if it comes to that. This prophecy of Ilim's assures me that the boy is alive and well."

  "You really do believe him?" The man questioned.

  "If only to crush it because it competes with another prophecy, one that is blessed by the gods of Hybron and Egi: "The serpent is rising". Prophecies compete just like men do in an arena. Which will get the mastery? It is up to me to choose which one will prevail. So, you heard rumors near Rhuctium? What of Rhuctium?"

  "The men I sent there said they may have found one who fits the high-priestess's description exactly. The description as you say, she saw in her visions. Last I heard from them, they were moving in to take him and bring him here. Then a few days ago I got a message from one of my sources saying they had found dead Hatchet Men in the city and gave a description of the bodies. Those men were working for me. I sent four of them to bring back the boy. Three are dead and one is missing. They had been killed in what looked like a street brawl." The queen frowned.

  "These were Hatchet Men, you say?'" She asked. The huntsman nodded.

  "I wonder who but seasoned warriors could kill a Hatchet Man, much less a group of them. In any case, this discovery leads me to believe that the boy may very well be in Rhuctium."

  "I suspect this as well."

  "Good. Pull your resources towards that city for a more concentrated search."

  "Your Greatness, if I may. The boy is of the age to attend one of the great schools down there. Perhaps sending your honored guest that just arrived from Egium there would be a good idea. Perhaps he may turn something up if my men do not." He countered. The queen's eyes lit up with cold, bright flame.

  "Ah! What an excellent idea! I will have you speak with him on the matter of the boy. Inform him that I shall send him on to Rhuctium at once." He bowed again.

  "Oh, and huntsman, my dreams and the visions of the high-priestess have the face of Ilim the prophet, along with this boy. The mad prophet is connected with this treasonous outrage against me. While in Rhuctium, search for him as well."

  "We have not heard word about him for a few years."

  "I know and that is well. It would be even more well if you found him and brought him here. I have not forgotten him. He is a man with great powers. In my last hours as I am now I will need such a man. His powers, anyway. Increase the reward for the boy. Any man who can find him will be paid the boy's weight in silver."

  "Certainly, Your Greatness."

  "I do realize these things take time and I am patient huntsman, but do not tarry overmuch. The great day of the sun god has passed. It is late spring. My ascension is nearing." He bowed again and left quickly. She saw another manservant coming.

  "The royal barge is ready." He said. She turned to Setimet.

  "Take care of my serpent. It seems he grows larger every month."

  "Is it time for him to feed again, Your Greatness?" She asked eagerly. The queen laughed lightly.

  "It is. If any of the new serving girls displeases you Setimet, feed her to him. You have my blessing." Setimet's eyes brightened. She picked up the cat left the room.

  Things were moving along. More slowly than she liked, but moving. Her spies were nearly everywhere. Even within the Ainash's Hatchet Men she had infiltrated them. Her chosen serving women followed her in a train behind as she left her personal apartments and descended the steps. She was on her way to the royal tomb to do two very controversial things which had forced her to imprison a few people for daring to dispute her. She was dedicating a school in Egium for noblewomen, the first college if its kind for religious training and intellectual pursuits. The Esoterica of Egium. That had been difficult enough, but she'd pushed it through even with the sly machinations and sneaky obstructions against it from her uncle. Secondly, she would dig up Khalit's bones. Many thought it sacrilege, those who did not worship as Egians did. However, he had been deified and now she needed them. She would need all the holy things she could find. Those outside of the palace thought it evil and did not understand. They did not understand that prophecy drove her to do this, impelled her, like their own prophecies drove them to believe this or that. But only one web of prophecies could be allowed to survive.

  When she finally reached the palace gate her royal litter was waiting. Egian warriors in golden chariots spear-headed the royal procession. The sun seemed blinding and overbearing even though it was still early morning and the air slightly cool. A maidservant covered her head with a thin silver veil and she climbed in, clutching her sacred flail and staff to her breast. How she wished for the night and its coolness. All eyes as always were on her and for these last few years it tired her, made her suspicious. She felt exposed and violated, outside and under the sun. She had not counted on her feelings and emotions over being exposed and seen by so many people when she became queen. She was raised in hidden rooms, luxuriant, hidden chambers, a daughter of secret rites. She worshiped goddesses of the night. She would be glad of night again. And when she finally ascended, night would last forever. She would make it so.

  Chapter Three

  Over the years Ilim had endured every conceivable trouble and misfortune there was and yet, here he was again among his people. No matter the hardships and dangers he endured, it was worth the price he paid for not marrying, for not seeking wealth, position or fame or anything a man his age would have achieved ten times over. It was in a tiny crowded two-room house where he spoke. Most of those gathered would eventually make their way to the temple for Night Prayer but for them, going to the local temple had become a mere ritual so as not to draw the attention of the traditionalists. Strange, he thought, how those who seek to go back to the elementary things of the Law are the apostates. Gathering for public prayers and offering animal sacrifices were still the right of all the Aishanna-La but these ones, the shismatics some now called them, also gathered in small homes in Gamina and Hevan. Many did not go to the temples for the festivals or to hear public oratories on the Holy Writings any longer. They knew that God was no longer with the Ainash. God was with his prophets, one who was now expounding the way of the Book of Laws and warning them of the signs to come. It was dangerous work. The palace sought to stamp out this hope, this new challenge to their divine authority. The Ainash, who were concerned with temporal riches and status saw them as a constant thorn in their side - a reproach, and most of the kingdom's subjects saw it as an uncomfortable accusation against the culture of and long-standing tradition of bloodshed and greed. Thus, it was now dangerous to be a true Aishanna-La of the old ways. Most schismatics stayed away from the public games, sports and other public entertainments so as not to encounter the question of the queen's divinity. Around the land some had paid the price of impalement but Ilim had warned beforehand in letters to the small groups around the land to stay away from things that they had no business attending; this would protect them from the question and subsequent trials. If only he could convince Rapheth, the very one spoken of in the prophecies, to do the same. Ilim was in constant exasperation and fear for the boy. He glanced at Rapheth and caught the boy intently watching him. He seemed true at heart but he had a wild spirit in him from his father and a deceptive quality in him from his mother and this worried Ilim. Would he really be the one? Had he failed in training up the boy? He and Zigal had many conversations on the matter. Zigal stuck by her opinion that the boy was strong-willed but had a good heart.

  Finishing his teachings he rolled up the scroll and handed it to Rapheth. They were in the home of a man named Dalet, an old man, and his Rurrian wife Rusudan, who h
ad no children. Ilim sat down as the younger families were readying themselves to leave. It was late evening. Rapheth carefully rolled up the scrolls and leaves of papers, carefully placing them into the leather sack.

  "Here, my brother Ilim. A cup of quass. I am sorry I have nothing else to offer you."

  "You have offered your home as a sacred space. That is enough, Dalet and I am thankful for it." Ilim drank it down, grateful. Compared to the quass of the tribal peoples it was weak but his throat responded to it in the same fashion. Satisfaction of thirst.

  "It is a hot one today. It may be even worse tomorrow and it is not even summer yet. This much heat too early in the year signals trouble." Said Ilim.

  "When it gets hot like this the vermin come out in droves. They found three dead men a few weeks ago in one of the backstreets not too far from here. Some say they might have been Hatchet Men. Have you heard anything?" Asked Dalet. Ilim glanced sharply at Rapheth who was concentrating on the scrolls. The youth looked up suddenly at the mention of the dead men and then quickly looked away and continued putting the scrolls away.

  "I have heard. A little too close to home I would say. Murderously hot weather seems to encourage murder itself." Said Ilim.

  "You know, things have gotten so bad these days. I am tired Ilim. Worn out from this life. I know I cannot hurry things but I just wish it would all be over now."

  "I know. We are in the midst of it but it must become dark before we see the light again."