“Taklamakan?”
Ranveer huffed a laugh. “It means – `If you go in, you will not come out’. Only poisonous serpents and hungry ghosts live in the Taklamakan. And Dahae raiders. They prey on travelers passing along the Silk Road.”
Sava turned back to his second, Dobrich, riding just behind them. “Did you hear that?”
Dobrich nodded. “I will post outriders on all four sides and double the night watch.”
The Sauromatian contingent of some 25 men and 75 horses were headed across the Sea of Grass toward fabled Sogdiana, largest city on the Silk Road. Their mission - to learn the secret of crafting steel to make superior weapons against Persia.
On the second day of travel through the dry baking lands, a scout galloped up to the Sauromatian column. Reining in his panting, sweating horse, the scout pointed east down the Silk Road.
“Dahae raiders! Coming fast!”
In moments another scout galloped up - “Big war band - riding like demons out of Haides! Coming from behind that ridge!” He pointed northwest at a low barren ridge in the desert.
“They are trying to outflank us and cut us off!” Dobrich said circling his nervous horse. “How many?”
“Many! I saw more than 50 warriors!” The first outrider said.
“I saw the same number - about 50 men!” The other scout shouted.
Putting war horn to lips, Dobrich blew a low warning call. The procession turned in on itself, horses milling nervously as the men readied for combat, putting on helmets, adjusting shields on their backs, checking weapons.
Light blankets of finely hammered scale armor were thrown over the haunches of their mounts and fastened to the saddles. The spare horses would have no protection but speed.
“Too many to fight. We have to make a run for it!” Sava shouted in the growing confusion.
“Which way?! The Dahae are blocking the road ahead!” Dobrich yelled.
“To the south is too much broken land. Ravines and cliffs. The Dahae know every crack and crevice!” Casmir called out.
“The Dahae will not set foot in the City of the Dead!” Ranveer shouted above the rising, milling tumult.
“Where is it?” Sava asked.
“Not far!” Ranveer pointed northeast, his horse half rearing in place, the anticipation intense. “North into the desert!” He galloped off, his brother Casmir close behind
“Hail Goddess! Follow Ranveer!” Sava yelled pointing after the Sogdians. “Ride hard! They will try to cut us off!”
The Shakya brothers set a furious pace across the hard-packed desert. The Sauromatae right behind them, each rider leading two horses.
Within moments, black shapes poured over the northern ridge to their left. At the same time a large war band appeared behind them on the Silk Road.
Screaming curses the raiders spotted the Sauromatae high tailing it across the Taklamakan. The Dahae swiftly changed course, galloping in hot pursuit.
“Yah! Yah!” Sava pushed Zargon into a racing gallop, his two spares, Zhora and Zantomir flying alongside.
Ooompah - Ooompah! Great lungs blowing air like bellows, thundering hooves pounding, shaking the earth, dust rising. The fleet Sauromatian horses bunched into a herd, hurtling over the barren plain.
The raiders flooding down the ridge to the diagonal left immediately changed course to cut them off. At the same time the Dahae chasing from behind were hot on their heels, screaming and whipping their horses in hot pursuit.
Galloping full tilt, the Dahae drew and nocked their lethal reflex bows, accurate to a third of a mile. A hissing hail of black arrows began whizzing down. Sava heard an agonized squeal. Simultaneously he felt a hard jerk on the right lead tied to his saddle.
Glancing back, he saw Zhora struggling to run, an arrow sticking out of his haunch. Blood spurted down the animal’s pearly grey hide. Fortunately his pack horse Zantomir was still unhurt. With deep regret Sava drew his dagger and slashed the lead, letting the wounded horse go.
“Yah! Yah!” Faster, faster! The Sauromatae kicking, whips thrashing the horses’ sides.
Slowing his big chestnut Zargon to bring up the rear along with Dobrich, Sava grabbed his bow from its gorytos. He flipped around in the saddle so that he was riding backward, knowing that Zargon would stay up with the herd.
Sava began shooting arrows rapid fire at the Dahae. Just then Zargon lurched as he made a flying leap over a crevice.
Flung partly over the horse’s side, Sava managed to hang on using his powerful thigh muscles. His skull in danger of being smashed by flying hooves, the nomad used all his strength to haul himself back up onto Zargon’s back as the horse galloped at top speed.
After righting himself to face front, Sava glanced around for Koba. The boy was riding hell bent on Torpal up among the leaders, his lighter weight allowing his horse to gallop with the pacesetters. An arrow hissed past Sava’s ear followed by a hard thud as another arrow crashed into the iron plated shield on his back.
He glimpsed Dobrich switching horses in mid gallop. The man leapt bareback on to one of his spares from his wounded mount. No time to remove bridle and saddle. In the wild stampede other wounded horses were let go.
A low ridge was coming up. Ranveer led them around behind it. The ridge afforded partial cover from the devastating arrows until they could race out of range. The longer, more elastic stride of the Sauromatian horses aiding their flight over the hard-baked ground.
Glancing back Sava saw they were gradually pulling ahead of the Dahae. Racing across the desert at breakneck speed, he saw tall golden conical towers rising into of the horizon.
City of the Dead – Hail Goddess!
Galloping nearer he noticed something - Are there FACES on those towers?
Chapter 10 - City of the Dead
Persecutors of all creatures…
The nagas (snakes)
Were of virulent poison
Great prowess and excess of strength
And ever bent on
Biting other creatures -
Mahabarata (Book I: Adi Parva, Section 20)
Blowing hard, the horses’ nostrils distended and red, veins bulging, coats streaked with lather, the Sauromatae swept into the ancient ruins at a mad gallop.
“Stand and fight you slinking curs!” Screaming curses, the furious Dahae pulled up to a screeching halt outside the city.
“Sons of jackals! A thousand fleas infest your genitals!” The Sauromatae tossed over their shoulders.
Though the Dahae stood back, neither did they leave. There was no water or forage in the deserted city. Only ghosts and vipers. With so many horses to water and feed, both sides were well aware it was only a matter of a few days, even hour, before the Sauromatae were forced to make a break for it.
From their shouts the Dahae made it clear they would be ready and waiting.
“How many horses did we lose?” Sava asked Dobrich as they milled around, gasping with relief taking account of their losses.
“Not many, maybe five. I lost my best horse. Arrow in the hip. A shame. I lost my saddle, everything.”
“I lost my grey Zhora.”
Prancing and blowing, the horses trotted through the narrow sandy streets. The nomads stared in awe at the massive stone buildings.
Slithering movements caught Sava’s eye. Greyish-brown serpents the color of sandy earth slithered under the cool protection of eaves. Snakes mixed with the ornately carved cornices made it difficult to tell the difference between architecture and serpent.
High above, huge stone faces stared down at them from four-sided towers topped by a single pyramidal roof. Eternally vigilant, the faces gazed out over the empty desert in the four directions.
“What happened to the people here?” Sava asked.
“No water. River dried up.” Ranveer replied.
In the middle of the deserted city a wide town square opened up. One one side a massive stone temple faced the setting sun. Sava rode around it, studying the huge carved faces on e
ach side of the central tower. Each face had a unique expression. The effect was eerie.
“I see why the Dahae say this place is haunted.” He said to Ranveer who rode alongside.
“Those faces are the moods of the king. He watches over the people. See that one? The King is smiling. Happy. That one - King is sad. Here King is angry. There King is benign, divine. All the faces under one roof, one hat, symbolize the mind of King.”
“Is there any water here at all?” Sava asked.
After the long exhausting gallop under the hot sun the horses were in desperate need of water. The pack horses carried water skins but that was a mere sip for 70 thirsty horses.
“I will see what I can do.” Ranveer dismounted and strode to a low depression filled with dry sand in the middle of the square. With his sword he began digging vigorously. After a time the dry sand came up dark with moisture.
Soon a dozen men were crowded into the depression digging. When they had a pit four feet deep, precious underground water began to trick in. When the pit reached the height of a man, water flowed in to fill the depression a foot deep.
Dropping collapsible leather vessels tied to ropes into the shallow pool, they watered the horses in shifts. Each horse got only a brief drink until all were watered. After waiting a short while they watered the horses again, more deeply this time. Only then did the men take what little muddy water was left for themselves and to refill their depleted water skins. By then it was nearly dark.
The few patches of dry stringy grass to be found were cut for the horses. As forage it was just palatable enough to give the animals something to chew on. Tonight the horses would remain saddled and contained in the square, heavily guarded. At each corner the men built small fires from sticks and dry bushes.
“Full moon tonight.” Casmir pointed at the rising moon. “The dead will come out to dance.”
“Don’t say that. The Dahae are enough to worry about.” Dobrich grunted.
“This place is infested with poisonous serpents and ghosts. Have you ever seen a cobra?” Now silent, Ranveer’s wide-eyed audience shook their communal heads.
“They are big vipers that slither out of their holes at night. They will crawl right over your body as you sleep. If you feel something smooth and cool sliding over your face, don’t try to throw it off. Cobras are so poisonous, if one sinks its fangs into your flesh your skin will turn black. Your pores will cry tears of blood. Most of all beware the Black Guardians. The Guardians are the souls of powerful sorcerers who once lived here. They guard an underground kingdom with a vast treasure of gold and gems.”
Listening avidly, Sava squatted on his haunches by the fire while chewing on a strip of dried meat. “Who built this place? What gods did they worship?”
“Nagas – Snake People. They worshipped snakes, even believed they were descended from snakes.”
A low warning crackle of dry lightning lit the dusky sky. There was a sense of anticipation in the air. Of a coming storm. With a low moan a dry desert wind blew through the narrow streets, around the temples, into the square.
“Hear that?” Ranveer said, “The stones speak.”
“I’ll bet there is gold in that temple.” Eyes glinting, Koba pointed to the massive structure.
“Could be. But you take your life in your hands if you go in there.” Casmir replied.
Entranced, Koba rose and approached the steps of the main temple. He put his foot on the first stone step.
“Koba don’t go in there.” Ranveer called out. “You will anger the Guardians.”
“I’m only going to look in the door. That’s all.” Koba tossed over his shoulder as he began climbing the steep temple stairs.
“That boy never listens.” Sava groused and shook his head.
Within moments Koba called out - “Sava come here! You have to see this!” With that he walked through the door and disappeared.
“Ah-Gin’s hairy balls - What am I going to do with him?!” Muttering an oath, Sava rose and went after the boy.
Though Sava would not admit it, Koba had given him an excuse to explore the temple. Food was necessary to keep the body alive but his mind yearned for knowledge. He wanted to open the hidden doors. To taste in his soul the essence of this forgotten city in the desert.
Climbing the tall steep flight of stairs, he studied each one as he placed his foot. The stone blocks were pitted, cracked and hollowed in the center. Many feet have come this way…and long before…
“Beware the Guardians Sava!” But Casmir’s warning was only background noise as Sava continued upward toward the beckoning door.
And then he found himself peering through the tall doorway. With the setting sun behind, his dark shadow projected into the temple like an arrow pointing straight to the altar. As his eyes adjusted to the darklight, he saw a great room with towering stone pillars and high vaulted ceiling.
He stepped over the threshold, then halted to take it all in. To absorb the essence of this ancient sanctuary, body mind and soul.
The atmosphere closed around him. Musky. Intoxicating yet oppressive. Primeval. It was impossible not to be drawn in.
Somehow he had passed through a mystic gateway into an unknown realm.
Massive columns carved in the shape of three intertwined serpents lined the broad aisle leading to the altar. The walls were lined with carvings that depicted a stunning race - half human, half serpent.
Holy Mata Drakaina.
Intricate patterns of richly colored tile in the form of vines, fruit and serpents adorned the dusty floor. Striding with cat’s feet down the aisle toward the altar his booted footsteps echoed softly. Even that slight reverberation was disturbing.
This was a sanctuary for a presence. A presence that had been sleeping for untold years.
Here the primeval stillness of ages past ruled, one with the silent revolution of the stars. Yet everywhere Sava saw movement. Slithering undulating movement on the walls, floors and columns. The stone temple was alive, coalescing, coming together, moving apart and dissolving before his eyes.
Placing one foot in front of the other, Sava felt as if his mind was expanding. He had the strange sense of looking down from a great height. Yet he was the size of an insect. He could see. See every tiny detail. Every linear crack in the stone.
Approaching the shadowy stone altar he noted something draped over it. Is that - a body?
Koba opened his mouth. Don’t speak! Sava wanted to say. Too late.
“Look Sava!” The boy pointed to the altar. His voice resonated against the stone walls inordinately loud as if he shouted.
Fascinated Sava studied the mummified remains of a woman lying on the altar.
She is a Beauty, even in death.
She was perfectly preserved by the dry desert air. Almost alive. Her hair, clothes, skin, lips, hair, even her eyelashes were still intact. She had golden-red hair and was bare breasted.
At any moment he felt, Her black kako mati eyes would open. The dessicated body would quiver. Move. Come Alive.
Rising into the air She would stare down at them from on high her lethal eyes glaring at their sacrilegious invasion.
Around Her neck was a heavy gold torque crafted in the shape of twined serpents. Inlaid rubies and emeralds glowed red and green in the last shards of light. Around her almost nubile hips was a string-beaded skirt.
It came to Sava that Her body was the altar upon which these forgotten people worshipped. Without the fertility of the female their race was doomed in this dry barren place.
Who was she? A priestess? A sacrificial victim?
Behind the altar a towering wall carving depicted a male and female of the `naga’ race. They had human bodies and long, thick serpentine tails. Both wore tall crowns of seven-headed serpents. Smiling, arms joined in loving embrace, the king and queen whirled, caught up in the primordial dance of fecundity. Their long sensual tails were intertwined as if copulating.
Are these the Reptile People? Progenitors of Mata Drak
aina?
On each side of the royal couple men and animals knelt in reverence. The silence was shattered by an eerie hissing moan.
Sava’s head jerked up to stare at a window high above. The window was shaped as a five-pointed star on the east end of the temple. Another star-shaped window faced it on the west side. The brisk desert wind blowing through it made a hissing moan.
The eerie sound reminded him of the insidious hissing voices of his nightmares. Of the menacing Voices that called him so insistently – SSSAVA… Come HERE Sssssva…
His innards clenched. A chill shot up his spine.
From the open doorway came a brief flash of dry lightning. Thunder rumbled a warning. The air shivered.
As his eyes took in the spiraling serpent columns, the writhing naga people on the walls, it seemed the ancient temple was not rigid stone but a living entity. An entity in a constant state of slithering movement, everything spiraling upward searching, reaching for the Light.
A deep, pungent scent rose to his nostrils. It seemed to be rising from the altar itself.
“Look at that gold torque.” Koba breathed. He reached out to touch it.
The moment Koba’s fingers grazed the golden torque, there was came a whooshing sound like a heavy body sliding over sand.
IT rippled out from under the massive stone altar. Flowing like water. Seething with effortless malevolent power.
A large black triangular head shot up to Sava’s height. Enraged golden eyes with large round black pupils glared at him with total focus. Its jaws gaped to display long, translucent ejector fangs. Needle sharp.
HSSSSssstt… Slow. Deep. Infinitely menacing.
Fangs dripping venom, the lethal face swayed before Sava’s eyes. Back and forth. Back and forth. Sure as a metronome. Dominant. Mesmerizing.
The drakon’s stunning, explosive HISSST vibrated to Sava’s core and he froze. Every sense poised on high alert.
The huge serpent’s midnight black scales glittered highlights of blue and purple banded with pale gold. The underside of its jaw and body were pale gold banded with black.
Wine God's Sorcery: The Horse Lords Page 26
