CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (69 page)

“Put that on shelf seventeen, with the others.”

“Hail Leonidus, the great counter,” Kastor called out jovially. “I see you got another shipment of spears. We’ll find a good use for them before this is all over.

Leonidus turned and peered at the two approaching figures in the torch light. “Kastor, what is it now?
 
I’m busy with all this new equipment,” he said with an audible sigh.
 

“And we have need of some of it. I have a new recruit.”
 
Kastor put his arm out to indicate D’Molay.

“Do you have any women’s clothes?”

Kastor grinned at the shocked look D’Molay’s odd request caused to appear on Leonidus’s face. “You’d better explain about Aavi,” Kastor laughed.

“For my traveling companion,” D’Molay clarified. “She needs an outfit to replace her damaged clothing, if you have anything for a woman.”

“Oh by Zeus’ beard! Gather what you need and bring it to me so I can log it out of my inventory.
 
You can see where the armor is. I think there might some ceremonial garb in those crates in the corner that was meant for females.” Leonidus pointed out the boxes and then went back to writing down what his slaves were unpacking.

Kastor patted D’Molay on the shoulder. “That’s as kindly as he gets.”

They picked out a breast plate, boots, helmet, greaves, and an armored kilt. Then D’Molay searched through the crates for something that Aavi could use. He found a blue, sleeveless dress and a pair of elaborate leather sandals that laced up to the top of the calves. They looked like they would fit so he brought them to Leonidus to strike from his inventory. Leonidus handed his scroll to Kastor. “You recruited him, so you can sign for these,” he said.

Kastor took the quill. “I’ll sign. The things I do for you, D’Molay.”

“I owe you for this favor. Where are your men stationed?”

“We’re on guard along the southeast rampart. You can join us when the time comes, and then you can buy us a round of wine when it’s all over.” D’Molay agreed to do both as they walked back to the main courtyard. “Now, to arrange that meeting for you,” Kastor said. “Get out of those rags. I’ll come for you at your woman’s room when I get you an audience.”

“Its number twenty three,” D’Molay told him.

Kastor pointed to a flight of stairs. It’s right up there. I’ll come to collect you soon.”
 

Kastor hurried off as D’Molay walked up the stairs and over to number twenty-three. He paused at the door, wondering if he should knock. Eros had brought them here. What if he was still inside? An insecure thread of jealousy flared in D’Molay as he perversely imagined Eros using his powers of passion to make Aavi pay for their rescue. He knew what gods expected of women. D’Molay grabbed the doorknob and pushed his way inside.

“Aavi?” He peeked in the room and saw her curled up on the bed, her back to the door.
 
On the floor he saw their knapsack, along with his bow and quiver of arrows. A wave of relief washed over him. Quietly, he put down the gear he was carrying and walked over to her. She was wearing a simple white gown that suited her so well it made the clothing he had chosen for her from the storeroom seem gaudy in comparison. He leaned over to gently touch her shoulder.

She turned her head, opening her eyes to find a soldier standing above her. Then she realized it was D’Molay. She sat bolt upright, grabbing him around the neck and shoulders and hugging him for dear life. Still weakened from his ordeal, D’Molay lost his balance and fell on the bed. The two of them lay side by side as she held him desperately.

“I was so afraid you’d die, even after Eros said you probably wouldn’t.”

“But here I am.” He winked at her and Aavi began to smile once again. She told him how they got to the Fort and flying in the air. He told her about the healers. Then they rested until the long shadows of the day’s end began to crawl along the floor and the remaining sunlight lit the room in a golden glow.

Aavi at the Fortress of Ares

A Greek Woman
(Sir Lawrence Alma Tadema, c. 1870).

Kastor had come for D’Molay just after a small, plain dinner of bread and stew had been brought to the room. Grabbing a heel of bread, his stomach grumbling at the soldier’s bad timing, D’Molay assured Aavi he wouldn’t be gone long, but had to keep his appointment to share what he had discovered about the Mayans with the Greek commanders.

When he came before them, he learned that Zephyrus had already passed on his warning. He provided a few more details, but in truth the meeting with the war council was merely a formality. He learned that Greek gods and creatures that had command of the air were at that very moment searching for the rafts. When he returned to their room, Aavi’s full stomach had lulled her to sleep and he promptly joined her in slumber.

When they awoke the next day, Aavi maintained her pleasant mood, especially when D’Molay showed her the blue dress and sandals he had obtained from Leonidus.

“You’ll look like a Greek goddess wearing these,” he grinned at her.

“Really?” she said shyly. “I’m not sure I should.
 
At least I have two dresses now, in case something happens to this one. And you look so powerful in your soldier clothes. I’d be scared if I didn’t know you were you,” she added.

D’Molay had to admit he felt more confident outfitted for action, with his greaves and helmet on a nearby table beside his weapons, waiting for a battle he hoped would never come.

“Did you see?” she said, grabbing one of his hands and pulling him around the room to show off all its amenities. D’Molay just smiled as she pointed out the quality of the bedclothes, the softness of the cushioned seats, and the bright skylight through which the sun poured in. Their trials hadn’t changed her. She was still impressed by fairly mundane things. He had to keep reminding himself that it was all new to her, and that they had just spent a week mostly sleeping outside on the ground.

“Try it out!” she said, pointing at the larger chair. D’Molay eased into it, leading Aavi to wonder if he was really cured. “Do you still hurt from the wounds? Are you tired?”

He settled into the seat, placing his forearms upon the padded armrests. “We’ve slept for almost an entire day, Aavi. I’m wide awake. My side’s a bit stiff, though,” he admitted. “How about you?” Aavi carried a basket of fruit over and set it within D’Molay’s reach. He popped a few grapes into his mouth.

“I’m fine. I’ve just been here. Eros helped me find this room.”

D’Molay grinned at her around his mouthful of grapes, feeling a bit mischievous after his brush with death. “Is that all he did?” D’Molay teased. Aavi was a remarkably beautiful girl. He knew the god must have taken note of it. Aavi’s expression changed a bit as D’Molay waited for her response, and he again feared that the possibility he put forward as a joke might actually be true. “Aavi?” he asked, more seriously.

She had promised Eros not to tell D’Molay about the piece of metal. Her eyes shifted to the knapsack where she had hidden it and she realized she was going to have to come up with something to say that might just be a lie. Luckily, she quickly thought of something she could say that was entirely true.

“Eros told me there was going to be a battle here,” she said. “That means people are going to get hurt. Killed.” She sat down across from D’Molay’s chair on the edge of the bed, curling in upon herself slightly as she worried. “Are you going to fight?”

D’Molay leaned forward. “Only if I must. We’re here to see the beast, and once we have, we’ll go.” D’Molay wasn’t sure he could keep that promise, but the thought of getting mixed up in whatever war Ares had planned was not going to help him with Aavi’s lost memories. He stood and held his hand out. “Come on, Aavi. Let’s do what we came to do.”

Aavi took his hand, feeling the warmth and confidence it exuded. Relieved that she hadn’t had to lie, she was content to let D’Molay lead her into the outer hallway. She started to move toward the stairs but felt a tug as D’Molay held her back.

“There are soldiers everywhere, Aavi,” he cautioned. “We’re going to have to be careful, or the ones guarding the beast might catch us.” D’Molay pulled her into a recessed doorway near the stairs as he took a look at the foot traffic in the halls. On their level, priests were bustling back and forth. Several walked right by them without a second glance, and D’Molay decided that the religious members of the community were no threat. He led Aavi further down the corridor, passing by the main staircase toward a smaller one in the back he’d watched the priests use.
 
Since he was already dressed as a soldier, he hoped they would be less noticed as they explored the fortress.

It wasn’t the widest of passages, and several times along its zigs and zags he and Aavi had to plaster themselves against the wall to let others pass. A few soldiers did brush by, but they seemed intent on running the errands they had been sent on. None of them questioned D’Molay or Aavi, and those who did take more than a moment’s look seemed only to be appreciating Aavi’s beauty.

“That was easy,” D’Molay said softly as they reached the bottom of the stairwell. Another wide hallway stood before them, with two narrower lanes extending to their left and right. At the end of the right passage stood a soldier poised before an iron gate. “I think he’s guarding one of the ways down to the dungeon,” he whispered to Aavi. “We’ll have to find another.”

“There’s more than one?” Aavi asked.

“Has to be. The beast is too big. They could never have brought it in this way.”

From down the wide hall, D’Molay heard something that sounded like wheels rolling across stone. He walked Aavi to a position where they could peer toward the sound. In a great open room that lay before them, men were hauling on massive pulleys that in turn spun giant gears. Outside light poured down on them from a rectangular opening above their heads. Looking up, D’Molay deduced that the top of the hole was at the level of the fortress courtyard, and the machinery the men were powering connected to a platform the size and shape of the hole. It was an elaborate lift designed to raise siege weapons from this room, the fortress armory. As he watched, three heavy assault ballistae were hauled onto the platform by men standing on ramps working other ropes. The scale of the lift would easily have accommodated something beast-sized.

“What are they moving?” Aavi asked. The things rising in the air had wheels, but they were different from the chariots and carriages she’d seen.

“Weapons,” D’Molay answered as his eyes traced along the ramps. He could see that one of them had a branch that led into another room. “Let’s sneak by while they’re still busy with them,” he said.

The armory was well stocked and it wasn’t hard to find cover as they worked their way around the straining soldiers. D’Molay and Aavi stayed behind stacked crates of arrows and tightly-packed racks of spears and pikes as they approached the bottom of the branching ramp. As they paused to wait for just the right moment to dodge into the darkness beyond the end of the slope, Aavi noticed a pile of netting on the ground. She wasn’t sure why it caught her eye, but it seemed important somehow. She tugged on D’Molay’s shirt, pointing down. Seeing it, D’Molay nodded.

“The beast was in a net just like that,” he confirmed. “We’re definitely going the right way.”