The Cult of Sutek

by Joshua P. Simon

  “What? You seem to have all the answers about this cult.”

  “Not where they’re taking Dendera. I told you that those within the cult died before we could question them. What does it matter? Isn’t this what you two do? Find people.”

  “We did it once. By accident.”

  Jahi cocked his head. “Then what do you do?”

  “Things that are unpleasant,” hissed Andrasta. She looked to Rondel. “We’re free. Let’s tie him up and go. Someone will find him eventually.”

  Rondel gave her a look. “People of the cult could still be out there.”

  “We don’t have time to get involved in politics. We have more important things to consider.”

  The jewel. Rondel felt torn. Horus is a good man, a friend, but Andrasta is my future.

  Still struggling with a decision, Rondel said, “We can’t just go off like a bunch of fools hoping to stumble across something.”

  “You agreed to help me,” said the boy.

  “I know, it’s just—” Rondel started.

  “Things change,” said Andrasta.

  Jahi clenched his jaw. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”

  Balls of fire ignited in the palms of Jahi’s hands.

  Rondel swore. “You’re a sorcerer?” He thought of the small torch the boy lit in the dungeons. He didn’t hear flint striking steel, the spark simply appeared. “It was you who relit the candles and the hearth after the attack on your family.”

  “Yes.”

  Impressive.

  Andrasta drew her sword, and Jahi took a step backward.

  “What are you doing?” Rondel snapped at his partner.

  “I’ll not be threatened by a child,” said Andrasta. “The boy thinks he can force me to help. Let him try.”

  She crouched, ready to spring forward.

  Rondel stepped between them. “Is that how you repay someone who rescues you? You didn’t do that with me.”

  “I almost did when I found out you had rummaged through my things. But our goals had aligned.” She paused, eyes flickering between him and the boy. “I’m wondering if that still holds true. We won’t make any money by doing favors for everyone we meet.”

  “Everything doesn’t have to be about money.”

  “Is that what’s stopping you? Money?” asked Jahi.

  “More or less,” said Andrsta. “Especially after the little your father gave us.”

  The flames in the boy’s hands dissipated. He withdrew a small bag from under his robes, and threw it to Rondel. “Open it.”

  He did, spilling forth several precious gems and a mixture of silver and copper coin. Rondel’s eyes widened.

  Andrasta relaxed. “That’s more like it.”

  “Consider that an advance,” said Jahi. “There’ll be more once we rescue Dendera.”

  “I thought your father didn’t have any money,” said Rondel.

  “Who said that?”

  “He did. Didn’t you know?”

  “I knew he was struggling some, but not that badly.” The boy shrugged. “I don’t know if that’s true or not. It doesn’t matter right now. Dendera does. Regardless, this is from my personal wealth. I have more.”

  Andrasta swiped the bag from Rondel’s hands and tucked it away. “We accept.”

  Obvious relief washed over Jahi in the moonlight. “Good. But we are still back to where we were before. Where to begin?”

  Andrasta swung to Rondel. “Well?”

  Earn your keep, Rondel. He scratched at the beard he allowed to grow over the scar at his throat, thinking. The scar had a tendency to itch when stressed. “What happened to the guests of the party after the attack?”

  “I had the captain of the guard assign them to various rooms in our home until they could be questioned.”

  “Did you learn anything?”

  “No. But the captain was still questioning them when I told him I was going to bed. It was the best opportunity for me to sneak into the dungeons. Based on who was left to question, I doubt he would have learned anything helpful. I left a note for him about my plans and his final orders should I fail to come back.”

  “What will he do once he finds the note?”

  “He’ll come searching for me.”

  “So, we need to hurry. Did anyone leave the premises before the captain locked everything down?”

  “Yes. We figured out their names based on those still left at the party when the attack occurred. A few squads just left in search of them. Word has also been sent to the gate sergeants to lock Girga down. No one enters or leaves.”

  “We should do the same and start looking for those who left early. Anyone guilty is likely trying to flee.” Heads nodded and he continued while they set off away from the palace and back into Girga. “So, what kind of sorcerer are you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It would be nice to know what you’re capable of in case we have use of it.”

  Jahi hesitated. “I’d rather not get into specifics.”

  “That won’t do us any good if we run into trouble.”

  “I can handle myself. I’ll be ready if we run into trouble.”

  “You need to give us something more,” said Andrasta.

  “No, I don’t. I’m paying you to find my sister, not evaluate my skills with sorcery. Focus on getting Dendera back.”

  “Blasted mages and their secrets,” muttered Andrasta.

  Chapter 7

  They moved quickly into the city while Jahi gave Rondel the names of guests who had left the celebration before the assassination attempt and kidnapping.

  Despite dawn only hours away, the thick crowds of revelers had not abandoned Girga’s streets. Rondel watched Andrasta use the cramped avenues, and jostling throngs to their advantage, weaving deftly around patrolling guards.

  Members of Horus’s personal bodyguard had beaten them to the first person on Jahi’s list. They arrived in time to watch Horus’s men escort the individual in question outside their lodgings. Though the politician looked annoyed, he cooperated dutifully. Studying the man’s behavior, Rondel didn’t think he appeared guilty of any wrongdoing, but he couldn’t be sure unless given the chance to interrogate them.

  Too late for that now. Control what we can.

  Rondel turned away from a corner he peered behind as a guard helped one of the nobles into a wagon. He looked to Jahi.

  “Where to next?”

  “Either Maskini or Thabit. We’ll have to make a decision on which one as they’re in opposite directions.”

  And we can’t let the guards get ahead of us again.

  Rondel recalled Maskini bumbling through things at the celebration and their brief conversation.

  It can’t be him. . . . Of course, Maskini’s behavior could have all been an act. He bit his lip, thoughts drifting to Thabit. Intelligent. Handsome. An arrogant mule. A man who would do anything to seize power. Plus, I just don’t like him.

  “Thabit,” answered Rondel.

  “We go south. Near the market.” Jahi faced Andrasta. “Five streets down, then take a left for two more blocks. It’s the most expensive inn Girga offers. It will be on the right.”

  The woman set off. He and Jahi followed. Surprisingly, Rondel had yet to feel winded.

  All that running is finally paying off.

  Several buildings away from the inn, Rondel eased into the shadow of an awning the three stood under.

  Unlike the surrounding buildings of sun-baked bricks, granite, and limestone, the inn was constructed entirely out of sandstone. The architect who designed the inn left his mark by making use of natural patterns in the stone, creating straight lines of eggshell white, pale yellow, and deep tan around the first floor walls. The transition of each color appeared so seamless it looked like the thing had been carved out of one solid block. On the second level, designs and colors shifted from straight, even lines to swirling patterns. The patterns increased in complexity with each level as the walls sloped upward
like that of a pyramid.

  The fact that Rondel saw all of these details from the light provided by the star-shaped lamps hanging over the street impressed him even more.

  “How do we know what level Thabit is on?” he asked Jahi.

  “The extravagance of the inns in Girga traditionally increase the higher one goes.”

  “Thabit doesn’t strike me as the sort of person to settle for anything less than the best.”

  “He isn’t,” said the boy. “But, he’s also cautious. He won’t be at the top.”

  “So the third level then.” Rondel looked to Andrasta. “How do we handle this?”

  “You and the boy go in through the door and work your way upstairs.”

  “And you?”

  “If I go with you, we’ll be stopped immediately. I’ll come in through the back.”

  “For security reasons, I don’t think there is a back entrance,” said Jahi.

  Andrasta grunted. “There’s always a back way.”

  She sprinted off without another word, crossing the street, and drifting through the alley of a building two lots down.

  Jahi looked at Rondel, confused.

  He shrugged. “Let’s go.”

  They entered the inn. Behind a low table sat a middle-aged man. A lone candle burned atop the table, casting a shadow across the man’s bald pate. He glanced up for only a moment as Rondel and Jahi entered, eyes returning to the table-top before him where a series of cards lay in a circular pattern. Some bore letters, other numbers, and others still had simple pictures adorning them. Upside down, Rondel recognized a goat, a tree, and something resembling a cart. He took a step closer and noticed more cards in the man’s hand.

  Rondel cleared his throat. “Hello, I—”

  “We have no rooms available. Sold out because of the festival. You’ll find the same response elsewhere. Your best bet is finding a space in the back of a stable or camping outside the city.”

  “Actually, we aren’t looking for a room. We wanted to see one of your guests. Vizzier Thabit.”

  “It is against our policy to divulge the names of any guest. However, I can see if someone, whether the vizzier or someone else, has included you on our list of allowed visitors. Name?”

  “Well, I doubt he would include my name as we only met hours ago.”

  The man placed a new card down on the table in the center of the pattern. A sun. “Well, then I’m sorry. No person may be admitted past this point unless he or she is on the list.”

  Rondel considered the man behind the desk more closely. He was of medium build, and though sitting, didn’t appear to be of considerable height. The skin on his hands and face looked soft, almost like a woman’s.

  Even I can take this one.

  Rondel gestured to Jahi and took a step toward the stairwell at the far wall.

  A tall, thin man stepped into their path. He seemed to appear from nowhere, but acted as if he had been there the entire time. He held two scimitars, one in either hand. They hung loosely at his sides. The curved shape of the weapons’ blades matched the uninviting grin slashed across the man’s face.

  “Please proceed if you like,” said the man at the desk, once more without looking up, “but be mindful of the consequences.”

  Now what?

  As Rondel weighed several possible courses of action, all ending with him calling out to Andrasta for help, Jahi stepped forward.

  “I am your king’s son. You will move aside.”

  The man with the scimitars cocked his head, looking at the man playing cards.

  “He’s lying, you fool,” said the man. “Horus would never allow his son to travel the city at this hour, especially in the company of one lone man. If they do not leave at the count of five, remove them by force.” The man began counting. “One . . .”

  Rondel swore, taking a step backward as scimitars came up.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Jahi. “We need to get upstairs.”

  “Two . . .”

  “That won’t happen with us dead. Why don’t you just—”

  “No,” said Jahi, cutting him off. “I know what you’re thinking. That sort of thing is frowned upon. My father would be shamed.”

  “Three . . .”

  “Just a small trick? Seems better than the alternative,” said Rondel, backing up farther.

  “Four . . .”

  A loud thump sounded. The man with the scimitar jerked to the side and collapsed to the floor, eyes rolled back in his head. Andrasta crouched behind him with fists clamped together.

  “I wondered what was taking you so long,” she said.

  Rondel straightened. “I was just about to do something.”

  She sucked her teeth.

  The man at the table swore, finally looking up, face masked in disbelief. “How did you get in?” he asked Andrasta.

  “A window.”

  “There is no window on the first floor.”

  “I know.”

  “But the walls are more than fifteen feet high and completely smooth.”

  She offered a shrug. “Gag him and tie him up. We’ve wasted enough time.”

  Jahi took care of binding the man, much to Rondel’s gratitude. He hated fumbling through knots on account of his damaged hand. While Rondel helped Jahi tuck the man behind the desk, Andrasta barred the front door.

  “Thabit?” she asked, standing before the inn’s manager.

  He paused briefly as if weighing his options. “Third floor. End of the hall.”

  Andrasta led them upstairs. They slowed at the third level and slid into a long, dark hallway. Six doors, three on each side, lined the narrow space.

  Andrasta eased down the hallway’s length, pausing when a sound like a chair striking the floor cut through the silence. Loud voices followed. One sounded angry, the others apologetic.

  Andrasta darted toward the direction of the voices. Stopping just outside the door at the end of the hallway, Rondel made out hushed voices.

  “What are you doing? I said burn all of it.” Even muffled, Rondel recognized Thabit’s voice.

  “But these came from Menetnashte himself. We should treat them with more respect.”

  “He’s just a man. Arrogant and selfish like any other the way he wastes Sutek’s powers to make himself look younger.”

  “But—”

  A slap sounded. “Quit arguing. Destroy all of this so we can leave and catch up with the others. I’ll not have them take credit for capturing the girl.”

  Dendera.

  Andrasta took up position on one side of the doorframe. She gestured to Rondel’s waist, frowning. He had yet to draw his short sword.

  The woman’s entire body seemed to sigh in frustration as he drew the blade. She gestured Jahi to step back and mouthed they would go in on three.

  “Shouldn’t we try to follow them to Dendera?” whispered Jahi.

  Rondel shook his head. “The guards will be along soon. If we wait to follow Thabit, we run the risk of the guards catching up to and re-capturing us.”

  Andrasta gestured for silence, then to the door. She nodded her head once, twice, three times, then kicked the door near the handle. The lock broke loose, ripping through the frame. The force of the impact sent the door slapping against the inside wall. Momentum carried Andrasta inside. Rondel followed close behind.

  Three men stood at the room’s center. Thabit was one, dressed strangely in black and gray. A larger man stood next to him, while a third kneeled at the hearth feeding a stack of papers into the fire. The eyes of the man on the floor widened. He dumped the last of the papers into the fire, sending smoke and soot into the air. The weight of the remaining stack, dampened some of the flames.

  Thabit and the man next to him drew blades from scabbards at their waists. Andrasta barreled into them both. Rondel focused on the third man rising to his feet, trying to suppress the tickle at the back of his throat from the drifting smoke.

  He called over his shoulder to Jahi. “Get to the pa
pers and save what you can.”

  The third man yelled, rushing Rondel with scimitar raised. Rondel deflected the attack and stepped aside as the blade swept around for the next pass. It sliced through the air so close it sent a chill up his neck.

  His attacker paused at a yelp. Jahi had pulled papers from the fire and pounded his foot to stamp the flames out. The man jabbed his blade at Rondel while moving toward Jahi. Rondel ducked and swept out his leg. The man avoided contact, but stumbled in doing so.

  The man recovered quickly and spun back at Rondel. His scimitar crashed into a vase on its way to Rondel. Their swords clanged. The blow shook his arm while the man stepped forward, their blades pressing together. He pushed Rondel backward over a table and followed, smiling as his sword inched downward.

  Rondel strained to fight off the sharpened edge descending at his eye.

  “A little help!” he called.

  A crash sounded, and broken pottery fell around Rondel’s face. His opponent blinked, dazed. A wide-eyed Jahi moved into view.

  Not what I expected, but I’ll take it.

  Rondel seized the opportunity and shifted his body to the right while sliding his sword to the left. The attacker’s blade thudded into the wood as Rondel rolled off the table and stabbed him in the groin. The cultist turned, eyes bugging, mouth hanging open. Rondel withdrew the blade and stabbed again, sinking the blade into his opponent’s chest. The man dropped to the floor, dead.

  Rondel exhaled a long breath.

  Gods, that was close. He looked to Jahi who was back at the hearth. Why didn’t he just do some sorcery and kill the man?

  “Are you hurt?” Andrasta asked.

  “Just a few bruises.”

  She grunted. “You’re getting better. You only needed a boy’s help this time.”

  “Was that a compliment?” he asked.

  “An observation. You moved your body well when you deflected his blade into the table. Though it really shouldn’t have come to that. He left you a wide opening when he tripped. You could have ended it sooner.”

  “How did you see all of that?”

  Andrasta gestured to the other man who had been with Thabit. He lay sprawled on the ground, a deep slash across the man’s torso exposed bone and guts. “Because he was dead.” She pointed at Thabit. “I caught the end of your fight while trying to save him. Must have swallowed the same pill Jahi mentioned the others using. It would have been nice to ask him questions.”