The Cult of Sutek

by Joshua P. Simon

  Chapter 3

  Rondel had spent the better part of an hour with Dendera sifting through the tattered belongings her captors had left behind. Their efforts warranted one half-filled pack of supplies worth keeping.

  Andrasta pretended to sleep on the far side of camp, lying on her side, back to the licking flames. Rondel ignored his partner, letting her sulk, puzzled by what had caused the sudden shift in her behavior toward the girl.

  He handed Dendera the remains of their stew. She took a bite and smiled before inhaling the bowl’s contents like she hadn’t eaten in days.

  Dendera sopped up the last of the stew with a heel of bread. Something about the girl seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn’t make sense of it. She shoved the last bite in her mouth, let out a small sigh of contentment, and set the bowl down.

  “Good?” he asked.

  She looked at him for the first time since beginning her meal and reddened. “Very much so. Did you make it?”

  “Andrasta did.”

  “She’s a fine cook.”

  He looked to his partner, seeing if the compliment had roused her interest. The only movement came from the rise and fall of her torso.

  “So, how’d you get yourself in that mess back there?” he asked.

  “They lied to me.”

  “You don’t say.”

  She scowled. “Make fun of me all you want. I was hungry and desperate for food. I didn’t really think things through when I ran away. I had gone through all my supplies and money sooner than I expected to. The old woman offered me work. I was supposed to do some odd chores for her as we traveled to Pilak. I was heading there anyway so it made sense to take her offer.” She paused. “She seemed nice enough at the time.”

  “I’ll bet. Then what?”

  “I met the rest of her family. The sons made me uncomfortable right away, but I didn’t have many other options. Once we left the inn where we met, they tied me up.”

  “You should have followed your gut,” said Rondel.

  “Easy to say now, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “So, you just hoped for the best.”

  “More or less.”

  “It must be an awful thing you’re running from to take those kinds of gambles.”

  “I thought so,” she muttered.

  “You said you’re heading toward Pilak. What’s so special there?”

  “It’s the fastest way out of my father’s lands. Someone was liable to spot me if I went north. Pilak is not necessarily my final stopping point.” She paused. “You know people call it the gateway to better things.”

  “The way you’ve handled things so far, it sounds like the gateway to your death.”

  She puffed herself up. “We’ll see.”

  “So you’re going to keep trying things on your own then?”

  “Yes. I’ve got supplies again and a horse. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be all right.”

  Rondel doubted it and was about ready to say so when Dendera turned her head to cough. The high-pitched nasally sound made him cringe.

  Something clicked inside his head, unlocking the secret to a riddle he hadn’t been able to answer.

  “By the gods,” he whispered.

  Dendera looked up. “What?”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. Granted, you don’t look like the little girl I remember.” He shook his head. “I guess Dendera is a popular enough name in this region that it didn’t register for me, even with that platinum hair when everyone else’s is black. But that cough . . . even after all these years, I couldn’t forget that.”

  She scowled. “What’s wrong with my cough? I was just clearing my throat.”

  “No offense, but it’s one of the most annoying sounds I’ve ever heard in my life. I remember thinking the same thing when you were bouncing on your father’s knee in Girga.”

  Dendera blinked. “You know my father? You mean you really are that Rondel?”

  “I played in his hall years ago. King Horus was a good man. He was actually one of the few people I played before that I’d consider a friend. You were the apple of his eye.”

  “Some apple,” she muttered.

  Rondel ignored the comment, too busy thinking of how best to use the new information. “It occurs to me that he would offer a huge reward for the return of his daughter, wouldn’t he?”

  Dendera frowned. Andrasta stirred at the edge of the fire, rolling over and giving Rondel an inquisitive look.

  Rondel snorted. “I thought you were awake.”

  Andrasta sat up. “A king’s daughter, huh?”

  “Yes, but just so you understand, a king in Iget is not at the same level as a king elsewhere. Horus would be a duke or a wealthy baron where I’m from. A king in Iget has to answer to the Emperor.”

  “Still, a duke’s daughter is nothing to laugh at.”

  Dendera’s eyes widened. She looked at Rondel and slowly stood. “Maybe I’ll just get a head start on traveling tonight.” She backed away. “After all, you said you didn’t want me traveling with you.”

  “Things change.” Andrasta grabbed Dendera by the wrists and began wrapping them in twine.

  Dendera started to protest, stopping at the warrior’s icy glare.

  “Settle down,” said Rondel. “Unlike your previous captors, we have no intentions of hurting you. In fact, taking you home is probably the best thing that could happen to you anyway.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I was running away from,” snapped the girl.

  “All right. What are you running away from?”

  Dendera opened her mouth, ready to plead her case. She looked between Andrasta and him, then shook her head. “People like you wouldn’t understand.”

  “People like us?” Rondel chuckled in order to hide his irritation at the comment. “You forget I ran in your circles once. Whatever the other girls are whispering about you behind your back is nothing compared to what would have happened had we not come along.”

  “Just like everyone else who thinks they know me,” mumbled Dendera.

  Andrasta sat the girl down. Dendera seemed deflated which suited Rondel just fine at the moment as she would be less likely to try and escape. He leaned back and settled in for the night, ready to dream something positive. The money they’d get from returning the daughter of a king would go a long way in building up goodwill between him and Andrasta.

  His partner gave him an approving nod before she too settled down by the fire.

  He smiled.

  * * *

  Rondel woke as the morning sun gently kissed the sky. Stiff and tired from the training and excitement the night before, he dreaded the day’s ride.

  Though his muscles had hardened and his lung capacity had expanded from what it was months ago, it never seemed enough. Any time he thought he was getting somewhere, Andrasta would push him harder or have him do some crazy exercise he swore she invented only to torture him.

  Yet, every one of them she can do with ease.

  It made him wonder if in Juntark they had their children running up mountains, chopping wood, and fighting mountain lions shortly after taking their first steps.

  So much of his partner’s past remained a mystery to him and she seemed in no hurry to share. Even if she let some tidbit of information slip, it often raised more questions than provided answers.

  Rondel huffed his way back to the horses after a quick run through the woods. The exhaustion permeating through every limb made him wonder if he should attempt to sleep on the road while riding. He had tried it once before, but falling off into a patch of briars made him wary of doing so again.

  Not one of my more graceful moments. Still, I might not have a choice the way I feel.

  “That took longer than it should have,” said Andrasta as he approached.

  He coughed for air. “I bet I was faster than you thought I’d be.”

  She said nothing in response, which meant he had guessed right. Sprinting
the last part of the journey before merging into the clearing had been a gamble. He could have tripped or twisted an ankle, but he reasoned that after securing their new job to see Dendera home, he should keep building on the goodwill already earned.

  “I’ve got the horses packed,” she said, giving Rondel her back and leaping onto her mount.

  Dendera sat in the saddle. Head down, she stared at her tied hands. Defeat covered her face. She hadn’t spoken a word since they bound her last night, and it didn’t seem like that would change any time soon.

  “You’re not going to give me a chance to catch my breath?”

  “You can breathe while you ride, can’t you? Quit wasting time. We’ve got five days of travel before we reach Girga.”

  All business. But then she gets like that every time we’ve got a goal.

  Rondel hid his pain while stretching his legs before climbing into the saddle. Andrasta kicked her mount forward while holding the reins of Dendera’s horse. Rondel grabbed a plum from his pack to eat on the road. He kept telling himself that one day he’d get used to this life of riding, training, and fighting.

  With my luck it will be right before my life ends.

  * * *

  Midday, three days out from Girga, Rondel eased his mount beside Dendera’s as they journeyed the dry road. The girl still clung to the silent treatment as the dust clung to their skin and clothes.

  I actually wouldn’t mind it to rain for once. Anything to get the taste of grit out of my mouth.

  “All right, I’m ready to listen,” he said, hoping to coax a conversation out of her.

  Minutes passed without a response, but Rondel refused to say anything more.

  Small birds, mostly dark-capped bulbuls, sang their songs while bouncing from branch to branch along the large sycamore and lotus trees bordering the road. Their grayish-brown color contrasted against the bright blue-and-yellow sunbirds chirping in the sky. The clomping of the horses’ hooves filled the spaces between the birds’ songs.

  “What are you ready to listen to?” she finally asked, voice scratchy from lack of use.

  “The reason you ran away.”

  “I already said you wouldn’t understand. Besides, why do you care?”

  “Like I told you before, I liked your father. I’m curious what was so important that you’d hurt Horus by running away. The man’s got to be sick to his stomach not knowing where you are.”

  “Only because he’ll have to figure out some new plan to save his lands.”

  “Huh?”

  She sighed. “Father wants to use me as a bargaining tool.”

  “I guess you are old enough to be married off.”

  “I’m only sixteen. I hoped to wait at least another year or two before worrying about that.”

  “Eighteen is the more ideal age, but you aren’t so young that it would be frowned upon. Just be glad you don’t live in Harth. They marry their girls away as soon as they have their first monthly visitor.”

  She made a disgusted sound. “What’s wrong with those people?”

  “They probably wonder the same about everyone else. Different cultures have different standards of what’s normal.” He paused. “You had to know this was coming.”

  “I did. But I was promised a say in the matter.”

  “So you had someone already in mind then?”

  “No. I know who I didn’t have in mind.”

  “I take it that’s who Horus set you up with?”

  “King Kafele.”

  Rondel choked. “He’s old enough to be your father’s grandfather.”

  “I know. Marriage wouldn’t be nearly as bad of an idea if it was to someone closer to my age or at least someone less revolting. It’s disgusting to imagine making love to some shriveled old man.” She shivered despite the warm weather. “I’d rather die than marry him.”

  “If I remember right, his name does mean ‘to die for.’” Rondel mused.

  “That’s not funny.”

  “Sorry.” He hid a grin. “Did you talk to your father about the match?”

  “Yes. He apologized but dismissed me all the same.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the Horus I knew.”

  “My father is dealing with a lot. Besides all the nonsense that the Cult of Sutek has returned, there are rumors that the surrounding kings of Iget are looking to make a grab at some of my father’s more questionable holdings since the Emperor doesn’t seem to care what his kings are doing right now. King Menetnashte in the north is the one my father is most concerned with.”

  Rondel’s brows furrowed. “I know I’ve been out of touch but I don’t recall Kafele being in control of a great army. I’m not sure how he would help your father in a confrontation against Menetnashte.”

  “Kafele may not have a great army, but he does have money thanks to his iron mines. Jahi thinks that father will use that money and hire out mercenaries to fill his ranks.”

  “Jahi? Your little brother?”

  Gods’ it has been a long time. He suddenly felt much older.

  “Yes. He’s much sharper than people give him credit for.”

  He thought on what Dendera said. Horus was as close to a good man as he had ever met in the backstabbing world of nobility. It still pained him to hear of the man’s troubles.

  “Out of curiosity, what does your mother say about all of this? She was a strong woman.”

  Dendera’s voice fell. “She passed away years ago.”

  “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “My condolences.”

  Rondel considered everything again and found himself growing annoyed. “I don’t understand. All this upheaval in your father’s life and your solution was to run away?”

  “You make it seem like I’m a selfish brat.”

  “No. You do that job on your own. I was growing sympathetic for a moment, but now I see a girl unwilling to do her duty to her father.”

  “Easy for you to say. You won’t be the one expected to fulfill your spousal duties with Kafele.”

  “As old as he is, you probably won’t have to suffer through it more than a few times before he dies or loses interest. He might not even be able to fulfill his duties. The whole thing could work out in your favor. He’ll die while you’re still young. Then you’ll inherit all his wealth and lands. At that point, you can get yourself half a dozen young, virile, male slaves to wait on you hand and foot.” Rondel caught sight of his damaged hand at the reins. “Trust me, there are far worse things to deal with than what you’re so frightened of. You almost had to suffer through some of them before we found you.”

  Dendera said nothing.

  For a moment, Rondel thought she had realized the wisdom of his words. But a quick glance showed him a face reddened with anger.

  By the time she learns anything it will be after she’s hurt herself.

  Dendera’s voice was tight with frustration when she finally spoke. “I ran away from people like you. People who think they are good at judging others after just a few brief words together when they can’t even decide for themselves who to be. You know nothing of me. You know nothing of the life I’ve lived.” She squeezed the horn of her saddle until her knuckles went white. “Perhaps you should stop worrying about others and concern yourself with doing a better job of hiding the fact you’re nothing more than a crippled minstrel pretending to be something he’s not.”

  Dendera looked away, retreating into herself.

  Rondel wanted to respond with a quick retort, but her words took his fight away.

  * * *

  They made camp that evening just off the road in a copse of sycamore trees, interspersed with the occasional fig.

  Rondel came in from his afternoon run. He had decided to get it over with early before he had time for the dread to grow. The strategy seemed to do him good.

  He re-entered camp quietly, walking up to Dendera from behind when he noticed her arms pumping away near her feet as she sat hunched near the fire.

  He grew suspiciou
s and hurried over. She looked over her shoulder and in a panic seemed to hide something beneath her dress. Beads of sweat ran down her brow.

  “What were you doing?” he asked.

  “I was just trying to start a fire. I figured I’d practice while you were gone. It might come in handy.”

  Dendera’s face was expressionless. She held a rock in one hand and a piece of flint in the other. A small clump of dried grass and leaves rested at her feet in the shape of a nest. A pile of twigs sat beside that. She had everything needed to start a fire.

  A perfect alibi. Too perfect and too out of character.

  He shoved her backward and lifted her dress.

  “What is the matter with you? Touch me and I’ll scream. Wait until my father hears of—”

  “Be quiet.” After her harsh comment toward him on the road, he had no patience for her.

  He straightened her legs as she tried to curl them. The tip of a broken saw blade protruded from the middle of her thighs, a few inches above the knee.

  “I’ve heard of a chastity belt, but never something like this,” said Rondel. He spread her knees apart so the blade fell. He snatched it from the dirt, noticing its rust.

  “Give it back! I found it,” she said, fixing her dress.

  Rondel looked around the well-used camp site. The place would be rife with junk from previous visitors.

  “You can have it once you’re in your father’s home.”

  He examined the rope at her wrists. As he figured, the girl had managed to wiggle away a few strands near the inside of her binds. He yanked at the ropes to make sure that they were still strong. The blade had been too dull to do much more than offer the girl hope. Still, Rondel had no idea what else she might be hiding.

  He looped another rope around her ankle and tied it off at a nearby tree. The knot did not look as good as Andrasta’s, but it would at least provide one more safeguard against Dendera’s attempts at escape.

  He walked away, letting the girl stew as he went in search of his partner.

  Rondel found Andrasta with half her armor off, standing still as a statue in thigh-deep water. Tall papyrus plants surrounded the small river, their thin stalks rising some five feet above the water’s surface. A large willow tree cast a huge shadow over the scene, its branches drooping to the ground.