by Dave Duncan
"Nagiak?" he muttered. "The next morning?"
"That will be interesting," I agreed. "He will find no Maiana there, of course. We shall have to think about that." If Thorian was involved, Nagiak was going to discover a dead Balor, bearing a remarkable resemblance to Gramian Fotius.
Motion carried.
Vorkans were another minor problem. The Balor legend was a two-edged blade. The war god come in glory would lead his young men to inevitable victory. If he refused to come, then the Zanadonian army would collapse like straw.
I was prepared to leave that difficulty to the god himself.
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21: Two Down
The guards eventually became worried, and one of them tapped on the door and looked in. Jaxian peevishly shouted at him to go away, but the interruption ended the string of objections he had been spinning.
He reeled to his feet like an old man.
"Tomorrow," he mumbled. "If B-Balor does not come … I shall try to find out who follows B-B-Belhjes."
Thorian and I chorused agreement.
"I shall come and see you here."
Again we agreed. Jaxian shuffled out and departed with his bodyguard. The outer door slammed. Thorian and I sank back on our stools. I wiped my face. That interview had been harder than wrestling pythons, and I speak from experience.
Thorian twisted his battered face in a smile of approval, showing the new parting in his teeth. I dearly wanted to ask him if he had let Jaxian win the tussle, but I knew better than to question a warrior's honor.
"You are serious about rescuing the girl?" he inquired innocently.
"Very serious. Obviously the gods want me to do so."
"Obviously. But earlier you said it was not our concern.''
"It is now! Surely you must see that the introduction of a tragic love theme changes the story?"
He scowled. "Brother and sister? It is unthinkable! It is a crime against all that is holy!"
"Half brother and half sister. And give him his due. We have the high priest's word for it that she is still a virgin."
"I should hope so!"
"Small wonder that one took to drink and the other to religion. Equally useless solutions, of course."
"You blaspheme!" Thorian barked.
"Not at all. What does anyone hope to gain by taking a problem to the gods? The gods sent the problem in the first place! They already know of it. Why should they help the crybabies?"
"One may pray for strength."
"The gods know your strength. They may be showing you what it is good for."
"Bah! You are as devious as a priest, even if you do argue the opposite case. I may assist in the rescue?"
"You do not expect Jaxian or myself to deal with Corporal Fotius, do you? I foresee your two destinies inexorably entangled."
The warrior sighed contentedly and smiled. I suspected that other ambitions lay behind that smile, but I did not say so.
"Jaxian is an interesting character," I remarked. "He seems to act like two different people, and switch back and forth between them with no warning. Mention of his sister seems to cause the change, did you notice? I have met a few others like that in my time. Vlad the Opprobrious, for example, was one of the most doting fathers one could—"
"Omar? How would you like to eat a stool?"
While I was considering the question, the innkeeper bustled in, looking worried—he would have been given no instructions about us. Thorian reached in a fold of his swath and produced a shiny gold piece.
"Our room is still available?"
That was different! The stocky man stared hopefully at the glint in the warrior's strong fingers. "I … I have a better one, milords."
"Plus the best dinner and your choicest wine. Sasi and Elina?"
"They will be here very shortly, milord."
"We shall require their company for the entire night."
Our host gaped. "The entire night? But, milord! Their regular duties …"
Thorian produced a second gold piece. That was enough to clear the girls' calendars. We were conducted upstairs. The new room was larger, cooler, and better furnished, even to a full-size copper bathtub in one corner. The crisp white linen smelled of lavender. Our host vanished, mumbling about hot water.
"The entire night?" I murmured.
"I was not at my best last night," Thorian said, stretching his great arms and pressing his hands against the ceiling. He sighed luxuriously.
"Nor I," I admitted. "I expect they will appreciate an easy evening."
"That was not my intention," Thorian said, stooping to slap his palms on the floor.
The door flew open and I was instantly enveloped in a tight embrace by my limber friend of the previous evening, her lips sweet against mine. Greatly excited by the news that she could dedicate the whole night to me, she dug fingers in my back and squirmed her firm little breasts against my chest. I heard a guttural chuckle from my friend as he was similarly reunited.
I had forgotten to ask which one was Sasi and which Elina, so I called my companion Twin Rosebuds, and Pearl of My Desire, and Avatar of Maiana, and other foolishnesses, and she called me many sweet names, also. And we did many wonderful things together.
I stood on the walls of Zanadon, looking out across the plain. I know of no vantage anywhere from which the world seems larger. The sun had just set, and the thin crescent of the goddess hung low in the sky below a threatening black storm cloud, whose top was red as blood. The wind was rising, stirring my hair.
I turned and looked up at Maiana, shiny bright against the dark east. She had her shoulder to me, and she was half hidden by a tree with yellow blossoms.
Leaving the walls, I walked up the hill toward the temple. Leaves blew on it as the storm approached. The road was a bare track, with grass growing in the ruts, and it climbed steeply between rundown wooden buildings, apparently deserted. This was a dingy quarter of the city, but soon I saw the temple wall directly ahead of me.
Someone licked my lips.
"Again!" said Sasi—or she may have been Elina.
"Of course, er, darling," I agreed. I kissed her, while wondering what the rest of my dream would have told me.
Again I walked up the hill. The last rays of sunset lingered on Maiana's hair, staining it bloodred. In the shadows at the end of the lane, a ramshackle fence abutted the temple wall, with a gate canted on rusty hinges. I pushed it ajar and slipped through into a weedy junk-filled yard.
Someone tickled me.
"Again!" my companion said.
I wondered if Thorian's was as inspiringly conscientious at providing value for money.
"Impossible," I said grumpily.
In a few minutes she whispered, "Still impossible?"
"Obviously not," I muttered. "Why did you think so?"
I never did see the end of that dream.
When dawn came, Thorian and I stood within the multitude that had assembled in the Courtyard of a Thousand Gods. Many had held vigil there all night. Huge as that place is, it was so packed with people that we were pressed tight together. I have never known so large a gathering to be so silent. I could hear and feel the breathing all around me, and yet there was no other sound. As I slipped into the mood of the crowd, the fear and tension began to speed my heart, and soon I was sweating with apprehension. The waiting was intolerable—had Balor come to save us, or had he again rejected the priestess? The part of me that was Omar could guess the answer, but Zanadon could not, and I swam with Zanadon in that dewy dawn. I shivered with anxiety as with a high fever.
The sky was pallid blue, ready for the sun. The House of the Goddess seemed tiny against it, and the doorway was dark, the torches dead.
The dumpy crimson form of Nagiak started up the steps, a double line of priests behind him. After them came the civil leaders, the merchants and the warriors. They moved with aching slowness.
As they neared the top, Balor's golden helmet blazed. Two eagles launched and swooped away, a
nd the crowd sighed. All eyes were on the House of the Goddess, waiting to see who would appear within the doorway.
No one did. When the high priest reached the top, the laymen stopped, moving to the sides of the stair, a single line on either hand, so that the center was left empty. We humble folk in the courtyard moaned in unison like some great unitary beast. The priests continued to climb, trooping in through the door.
The sunlight reached the gold roof, making it flame like Balor.
Shrill and faint, screams rent the dawn. We groaned again.
Four young priests emerged, bright in their white gowns. They carried the woman prone between them, and they advanced relentlessly to the very top of the stairs. Forward, back, forward, back, outward …
She screamed one more time as she soared, but the sound stopped when she struck the granite steps far below. She rolled and tumbled down between the double line of onlookers, leaving a trail of blood behind her all the way to the courtyard. Our howl reached to the heavens.
Thorian pinched my ribs savagely. I jerked my mind free of the crowd's. I stifled my sobs and wiped my tears. "Thank you," I whispered, and thereafter I kept to my own thoughts as we dispersed with the others. There was no sound except the shuffling of feet and the muffled sobbing, but fear and sorrow filled the air like invisible smoke. Again Balor had rejected the appeal of his people.
The sun beat down on the Great Way. The day was going to be even hotter than usual.
Tonight was the night of the new moon.
Thorian and I had just finished breakfast in our room when Jaxian arrived. As before, he had ashes in his beard and his right leg was uncovered. From the look of his face, he had not slept all night. His cheeks had sunk into hollows, leaving his incongruous prow of a nose even more prominent. His eyes were red as cherries. He slumped down in a chair and pouted at us resentfully. Thorian said nothing, but I could sense his distaste for our spineless ally.
"What news, milord?" I asked.
Jaxian shook his head. "I c-c-could find out nothing. My father is smirking from ear to ear, if that means anything."
"Then we may have to move very quickly. The procession starts from the gates, does it not? Once we are certain that your sister is—"
"I do not believe that what you p-plan is p-p-possible! There will be g-guards everywhere! Do you think the p-priests have not considered the p-p-possibility of a rescue or a substi-ti-ti-tution?"
His stutter was worse than ever. I supposed that a man besotted with his sister might be excused a few nervous twitches. The penalty for incest was probably as barbaric as anyone could imagine—and some people have very horrible imaginations.
"To be honest, I doubt if the priests have thought about the matter," I said truthfully. "Most of them believe implicitly in Maiana and Balor, as you did before we enlightened you."
Jaxian glowered at me. "As I still do. As you still should."
This was bad. I could see great trouble ahead if he pulled out of our conspiracy, fatal trouble.
"I do believe in them, milord. I also believe in human duplicity."
"Too much so. The fraud you forecast is impossible."
"With respect, milord, you told me that you would put nothing past High Priest Nagiak."
"Magic I do! Miracles I do." Jaxian glowered at me, and then rubbed his eyes wearily. "I have been four t-t-times into the House of the Goddess. There is no secret p-passage such as you predict. The walls are solid, the floor is solid. The idol is large—too large to move, too small to contain any fanciful secret d-doors." He peered at me and was not convinced that I was convinced. "The stones are a span and a half long! Maybe half that in width. It would take an entire phalanx to lift one, a dozen c-camels to haul it. That's t-t-true of the floor, too."
"There are other ways to effect deception." I smiled cryptically … then remembered Rosh's smile and switched to a witless grin.
"Name one."
"Have you considered the litter, milord? The priestess sits on a silver throne on a sizable litter. I knew an illusionist once who could have hidden three men inside a contraption like that. Or one Gramian and half a Fotius."
Jaxian scowled again at my wit. "At the House, she leaves the litter and it is removed. She is stripped of her finery, and that is removed. The notables go, leaving her naked … well, she has a couple of wisps of stuff on, but naked near as no matter. She is there, before the g-g-goddess, in an empty hall, and there is no one else."
I avoided Thorian's eye. "There will be a way," I said stubbornly. "Is she given no marriage bed on which to tempt the god? Just cold granite?"
"The p-priests heap a p-pile of t-tamarisk fronds. It's t-t-traditional; d-divine myth." He paused and then muttered to himself, "D-d-divinely uncomfortable, if you want my opinion."
The very impossibility he was describing sounded exactly like one of Pav Im'pha's illusions seen from the audience side. Any future questions about Balor's divinity would founder on the miracle of his arrival. Apparently Jaxian's mind would not trot on that sort of track, but mine would.
"Then on the critical night perhaps the tamarisk will be already in place and Fotius will be underneath it!"
"Rubbish! T-t-total chaff." He was avoiding looking at me, though, as if he had not convinced himself. His next remark proved it. "And even if I accept your c-conspiracy theory, I do not believe we can do aught about it!"
"West of the temple," I said, "at about the place where we were repairing the city wall, there is a tree with yellow blossoms. A rough road climbs the hill from there to the wall of the temple itself—it is not far, as you know. On the left there is a deserted yard. Within that yard lies enough scrap lumber to assemble a rough ladder. There may even be a ladder—I did not look carefully."
"Why not?" he demanded suspiciously.
Artists dream, priests believe, but peasants, warriors, and merchants all have miserably practical, hardheaded approaches to life. To explain the source of my information would have whittled his confidence in the reliability of my observations.
"My inspection was interrupted," I said vaguely. "Under cover of darkness, three agile men with a ladder can easily scale the temple, step by step. If necessary, Thorian can carry your sister down on his back. I am much more concerned with where we take her then … milord."
Jaxian stared at me incredulously. Thorian was keeping his face impassive, but the muscles of his arms were taut as anchor cables in a riptide. He, too, knew insanity when he heard it. Fortunately, he did not comment—he was starting to acquire some confidence in my little whims.
Jaxian had none. He laughed in shrill mockery. "And how do you get into the House of the Goddess to deal with the magical Fotius? How do you get my sister out? The torches burn in there all night. From now on half the city is going to be watching and praying in the Courtyard. Anyone going in or out of that doorway will show up against the light!"
Pav Im'pha again! I had no intention of entering by that public doorway, but neither did I intend to take Jaxian into my confidence anymore. I scrabbled among my brains, hunting for any plausible ideas that might have slipped down in there.
"The torches burn out by dawn," I said tentatively.
"By then my sister has been raped and Fotius is parading around in Balor's armor."
"True. Unpleasant. Well, I think if a man lay flat and wriggled in through the doorway on his belly, he would not be visible from the Courtyard."
This time Jaxian's disbelief was expressed by a spurt of obscenities that I would not have expected him to know. His nanny should have washed out his mouth more often when he was little. After that, he just stared at the floor. He wrung his hands like an old woman, although they were as huge and hairy as Thorian's. We had lost a conspirator, and were probably much safer for it. At last he looked up, but he spoke to Thorian.
"You will go along with this?"
"Something of the sort." The warrior's face was still so bruised that it was even more impassive than usual, and warriors are trained
to be impassive. The training is often very cruel. "The details need to be worked out."
"Yet you know what will happen to you if you are apprehended,'' Jaxian mumbled. "I respect your c-c-courage enormously, both of you. But me? I have much more to lose than you do!"
"I shall be surprised if you do," Thorian said blandly.
"I didn't mean it that way! C-can't you imagine what would happen if I were with you? My sister herself would be implicated … my father, and my aunts. The whole family will be d-d-dragged down, our entire estate and all the faithful folk who work for us! I cannot risk so many lives, even for Shalial."
"You will abandon her to Gramian Fotius?" Thorian asked.
"I have only your word …" Remembering that he was speaking to a warrior, Jaxian changed direction sharply. "No, I admit I have made a few inquiries. No one seems to know where Fotius is now, so I do b-believe you. Apparently he is a huge man, well able to p-play the role of B-B-Balor."
"He is about our size," Thorian said complacently. "With the face of a gorilla and the habits of a shark."
"Really?" Jaxian was sweating. "He t-tends to be rough with women, I know. Many men are. But he cannot harm my sister while he is pretending that he is B-Balor and she is Maiana, don't you see? Balor does not blacken Maiana's eyes, or knock out her t-t-teeth! I think you are overstating her d-d-d-danger."
Even I felt nauseated. I should not have been in the least surprised had Thorian lifted Jaxian by the throat and choked him.
"I take it that the rescue is off, then?" I asked sadly.
The merchant squirmed, staring at the floor. "I will not forbid it," he whispered.
And doubtless he would be willing to negotiate a handsome reward if we asked for it. I did not dare inquire, lest Thorian ruin the hostelry's rugs with bloodstains.
"This is still a c-considerable risk for me," Jaxian told my toes sternly. "You have been seen in my c-company, and you will certainly talk under t-t-torture." He looked up nervously at Thorian. "I don't mean you, of course. But Omar is not a t-trained warrior."
"No he isn't, but he is a brave man. You may be pleasantly surprised. Don't you believe your father can defend you from wild allegations made under torture?"
