Desert Rising (28 page)

“It figures,” Dani grumbled at midmeal. “I'm better than any of Voras's fighters, and they know it. They like being able to order me to fetch their gear. And I've heard that we won't be able to go to the Festival at all, not even to work as drudges. They say we've already been tampered with enough, so they can't let us in public. One guy told me we were a stain on the Temple. I couldn't even thrash him for it—­I'm that low in the pecking order now.”

“I heard the same thing,” Sandy said glumly. “The acolytes of Aryn treat us better, but we're not going to the Festival, either. So much for seeing our families. The training isn't bad, but I'm tired of going back to Voras each night and hearing their snubs.”

“It's the same at Ivanha's dormitories,” Lasha said. “They think it's fun to whisper about us and trip us. Sure, they treat Joaquil fine, but they know the rest of us aren't being taken by Ivanha, so they're no longer trying to be nice.”

Jonas nodded. “The Festival's only two weeks away, but I've heard that Aryn and Parasu are now making their own demands before they'll let us initiate, and Voras and Ivanha won't even meet with them anymore.”

“Find anything yet?” Sulis asked Tori and Jonas.

Tori shook her head. “Just little things. Mentions of old prophets going into wayside temples and coming out paired and taken at once, but nothing on how they did it. I went to the Altar of the One yesterday, opened my mind wide, and begged Parasu to take me. Not that I really thought he would take me on the spot, but it was worth a try. I don't care to suffer through another summer season here. I want to get back north, where I belong.”

 

Chapter 17

T
HEY SEARCHED
FOR
two weeks, but in the end, it wasn't Tori or Jonas who found the initiation information the pledges needed. It was Lasha.

She came to dinner directly from the healing hall, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She slapped a leather-­bound book on the table before sitting down on the bench, her eyes dancing.

“I think this is it,” she said. “Healer Vann was lecturing on healing herbs, and I asked about the ones used in the initiation cup. He showed me their library and said I could borrow any book as long as I wrote down which one I had. There are hundreds and hundreds of journals, most of them handwritten, about medical cases the healers had. They're filed by categories, and there were three on pledging and initiation. I started reading this case, and I think it has what we need.”

“You think?” Sulis asked.

Lasha nodded. “Tori was right about the language changing. I can hardly read it except for the names of the herbs. I thought maybe one of you would be better at it.” She gestured to Tori, Shane, and Jonas, who were all eyeing the book.

Jonas grabbed the book and opened it, while the other two looked over his shoulder.

“Hmm,” Tori said after a moment. “Notice the shift in spelling. Now we replace the digraph
hu
with the single letter
w
, and the consonant
c
with either
k
or
q
. There's also been a vowel shift, but that's more of a pronunciation problem.”

“What does that mean?” Sulis asked impatiently.

Jonas quirked an eyebrow at her. “It means this is going to take some time to translate into modern speech.”

“Though it is describing a ritual of some sort, this does seem to be the initiation process,” Tori added. “The question is whether we can translate it enough to get the steps right.”

“I can't,” Shane said. “I'm good with ledgers and tally sheets—­not with languages.”

“I've done a little translating,” Jonas said. “But most of my work has been scribing.”

“I've had experience,” Tori said. “I will work on it after vespers.”

Sulis noticed that she didn't explain what type of experience she'd had or how she'd gotten it. It was unusual for a landed woman to be involved with scribing, especially with translating old books. Not for the first time, she wondered who Tori really was and how she came to be paired this late in life.

Sulis sat in the courtyard with Djinn after vespers, positioned to hide Tori from view as she scribbled notes from the book onto a clean sheet of parchment. The work seemed to be slow and the book rather thick, and Sulis counseled herself to patience. It was something she really wasn't good at. She ran her fingers through Djinn's thick fur, working out the knots where he was still shedding his winter coat. He splayed his limbs out, purring in deep contentment. Sulis envied him. He was content living anywhere she was, and he could sit and enjoy the falling dusk without worrying about tomorrow. Sulis wondered if she would ever know that sort of contentment, or if that just wasn't possible for a human. Humans were always striving for something: wealth, power, knowledge. It would be nice sometimes to simply exist in the moment, as Djinn did.

The next morning, Tori only nodded when Sulis asked if it was the correct volume. She was absent at midmeal. By dinner, she said she might be able to finish the translation that night if there was time after vespers. Again, Sulis watched while the woman wrote a list on a parchment paper already full of odd markings and notes.

As they were seating themselves before meditation the next morning, Tori whispered to Sulis that she thought she had the complete ritual.

Counselor Elida entered the room before Sulis could ask more questions.

“A quick announcement,” the Counselor said. “You will be excused from your advanced scriptures class today, as all soldiers of Voras will be in meetings to discuss security for next week's Festival. You will meet as usual, tomorrow morning.”

Tori looked over at Sulis and nodded once.

“Meet me at Voras's courtyard, after class. Bring the pledges you trust,” she whispered.

As a result, all of the pledges except Joaquil nervously crept through Voras's shrine, past a few acolytes busy taking tithes and giving blessings. They assembled in the surprisingly empty courtyard, in a private corner.

Dani looked around nervously. “Don't you think it's a bit risky, meeting here?”

Tori smiled coolly. “Not at all. Meeting here puts us beyond suspicion. They can't accuse Aryn or Parasu of corrupting us. And all the soldiers are out in the city planning the Festival's security.”

“What did you find out?” Jonas urged.

“Really, only one chapter of the book dealt with initiation. The rest was on other rituals that require herbal infusions.”

“Does it go into enough detail on the ritual itself? Or is it only on the herbs used for the cup?” Lasha asked.

Tori nodded gravely. “It does put down the steps, at least in enough detail for us. Although if we had not already been trained in the ritual, I don't think we would have enough information to re-­create it.”

“Explain before I burst,” Sulis exclaimed. Alannah shushed her, and she grimaced.

“Okay. It says the supplicant must enter a temple or shrine with a whole heart and clear mind. We've already got that step down pat. He or she then takes the cup of initiation, which contains a mixture of special herbs that the book has written out. Some of the names I don't recognize. The supplicant drinks the potion and calls out the name of the deity he or she wishes to be taken by, then invokes words of a spell. If that deity wants the supplicant, he or she is taken by that deity.”

“Spell?” Dani questioned. “Does it give the words of that spell?”

Tori shook her head.

Sulis rocked back on her heels and grinned. “The words they made us learn!” She nudged Alannah with her elbow. “Didn't I tell you they were the words to a spell? That's why we weren't permitted to say them out loud!”

Tori nodded. “It seems logical. But we really won't know until we try.”

“Do you have the list of herbs?” Lasha asked.

Tori handed it to her, and Lasha and Alannah looked it over.

“Lemonweed is an easy one, and so is champor; they're common kitchen herbs. Witch's needle is just another name for nettleseed, which is harder to get but not impossible. I don't know how we'll get moridine; trading it is restricted. I've never heard of dragon's fire or sextant's guide, though.” Lasha said. Alannah nodded in agreement.

“That's because they're desert plants,” Sulis said. “Sextant's guide is really just sandgrass, which we use to staunch wounds. Dragon's fire is the powdered needle of a cactus that grows in the desert. We use it to make
tash
, a desert drink. If I can get a message to my brother, I can get both of those. What's the problem with moridine?”

“In large doses, it's a hallucinogen, so it is illegal to trade,” Lasha said.

“We only need a pinch,” Tori reminded her.

“I might be able to sneak some out of the healing hall, along with some nettleseed,” Lasha said thoughtfully. “I'm supposed to be studying the herbs used in healing, so no one will be surprised if I spend time in the stillroom. And the small amount we need shouldn't be noticed.”

“How do we brew it?” Alannah asked. “This recipe implies that we each drink the whole cup. It'll take all day to mix nine different batches in the chalice.”

“What'll we need a chalice for?” Luella asked. “Flasks'll do fine.” She hefted the water flask she kept on her waist belt.

Jonas nodded. “We can each have our own portion already dispensed into a water flask and ready to be used when we get to the Temple. The real question is how to do it without getting interrupted.”

Dani stopped his pacing and looked around, as though to assess who was nearby. “I've been thinking about that. Here's the plan,” he said softly, and they leaned in close to hear. “The Festival is in a week and a half. The third night is the Great Convocation. All the acolytes have to attend that ceremony, which is invoked first by the Counselor of the One, then by the Voices of the four deities. That leaves the Temple pretty much empty except for the servants, the elderly who can't walk that far, and the sick. We can tell the senior acolytes on duty that we decided to meditate in the Temple of the One since we could not attend the actual ceremony. We'll bring everything we need. Hopefully, it won't take more than the two candles the ceremony usually takes. I think we'll have to work fast. Once Ivanha and Voras realize what we are doing, they'll probably alert their Voices, who will come running.”

“Only if their
feli
are with them,” Alannah said smugly. “And
feli
don't like crowds, so you almost never see them at the ceremony.”

“Won't it look suspicious when we wander through the shrines wearing our white tunics?” Lasha asked.

“Do you really think a deity can't turn our pledging robes whatever color he or she wants it?” Jonas asked incredulously. “We'll wear our normal robes.”

“But all the sewing we did!” Lasha said. “All those stinking stitches wasted.”

“Maybe if you ask really nicely, Aryn will turn it green for you after you're taken,” Sulis suggested. “I'll get a note to my brother, asking for the desert herbs we need.”

Dani looked up as a group of soldiers entered the courtyard on their way to the dining hall. He grabbed Sulis by the hand, yanking her up, and pulled his dagger from its sheath.

“No, you hold it like this, silly,” he explained loudly, putting an arm around her waist and positioning her hand on the dagger as though showing her a move. “You other pledges watch and learn.”

One of the soldiers snickered.

“That's it, pledge, show the girl what a man's dagger is for,” he said suggestively. “If you can't teach her, I can.”

Sulis flushed in embarrassment as the soldier looked her over.

“I've got it in hand,” Dani called cheerfully.

“You should have it somewhere else,” another soldier called, and the group laughed before heading into the dining hall.

“Sorry about that,” Dani whispered to her.

She shook her head. “That was quick thinking. We should probably get to midmeal before any others show up.”

The others agreed, ending the discussion for the day. As they entered the Voras dining hall, Sulis wondered how she was going to get a message to Kadar about the herbs they needed. Then she remembered Ashraf's last words to her about sending a message through the Forsaken if she needed anything. Ashraf would send anything he got to Kadar. She decided she'd write a note that evening, then persuade one of Ivanha's Forsaken servants to deliver it in the morning.

 

Chapter 18

T
HE
T
EMPLAR BENT
his head in supplication and knelt on the granite floor in front of his altar. Some Voices chose to use kneeling pads and soft cushions, but the Templar scorned such things. Being a Voice for a deity demanded much of the body, of the mind, and of the soul. He gave such devotion willingly and would use nothing to soften the harshness of ser­vice to his Lord.

He closed his eyes and placed his right hand on the head of his
feli
. The beast held still, and the Templar cleared his mind, calling to Voras. The deity was with the Templar in an instant. The Templar held his mind open, bringing the latest negotiations to the front where Voras might sift through them.

“Your orders, my Lord,” the Templar said out loud.

Things did not turn out quite as Ivanha planned,
Voras said in the Templar's mind, his tone amused.
She is not as clever as she believes herself to be. But that is no matter. There is no backing down. Those we miss as spring pledges will return victorious from their campaigns and come here to recognize My glory. They will be paired on their return, and we will have seasoned troops. I am well pleased with these events.

Pleasure filled the Templar, and tears of joy ran down his face. There was no greater glory than being able to please his Lord. From the moment he had felt that familiar touch on his mind during the Initiation Ceremony, he'd been complete. Being able to be the Voice of Voras—­to commune with Voras, to fully give his body to his Lord when Voras was in need—­was an honor that far surpassed its price.

The Aryn and Parasu are weak-­hearted and will soon pity the pledges they favor,
Voras continued.
They will begin to make concessions. We will make some of our own. We may not gain a full victory, but once again, we will have expanded the security of the realm. These small victories lead to a greater wholeness of our lands. Is there anything else you need me to know?

The Templar hesitated, reluctant to let his deity know how flawed his Voice could be.

My son, you are troubled.

The gentleness of that voice undid the Templar. His own father had not been a kind or generous man, and the Templar had never been able to please him. The thought of disappointing the greatest of the deities made him weep into his hands.

“My Lord, there is a woman,” he admitted. He brought to the front of his mind the picture the desert girl placed in his mind, the memory she used when she repelled his geas. It had haunted him since last summer, invading his dreams. He thought it was just his weakness to be overcome, but recently wondered if the desert woman had forced it on him to weaken his calling to Voras.

Iamar.
Voras felt anger, mixed with lust and disappointment.
But how?

The Templar cried out in pain and cowered as Voras ripped the memory from him, accepting the pain as due punishment for his weak will. Though he had tried, he could not forget the image of that woman.

The woman is dead, your predecessor saw to that. But this girl, this Sulis, must be her daughter. Have I not said these infidels from the desert are a danger? They are planning for the destruction of My lands, of My ­people. I have seen the way they undermine the authority and structure of the deities' power in Illian. When this structure is undermined, our civilization risks collapse. This I have seen. Yet I am not permitted to protect My ­people from this threat; I must stand by while they build power and swarm our greatest city, like sand rats carrying unrest and discontent with them.

“My Lord, how can I help you? What can we do to stop the tide?” the Templar asked.

Now I see why this pledge class has been ruined. This is a plot from the desert, planned by the mother decades ago and renewed by her daughter. Sulis must be removed before she destroys the order of the Temple. Her mother sowed dissent and ruin where she walked: so, too, this child corrupts all she touches. She cannot be redeemed. She must be sacrificed.

“It will be done, Lord,” the Templar said.

Any pledges I take shall be kept in suspicion until purged of her influence.

“Yes, Lord. Shall I share your word with Ivanha's voice?” the Templar asked.

No. Ivanha and her Crone are too clever for their own good. Like most women, they look only to their hearth and do not consider the greater good. I trust in you to annul this threat to Our authority.

“Yes, Lord, you can depend on me,” the Templar assured his deity, warmed by his master's trust. The presence in his mind lifted, and Voras was gone, leaving the Templar tired but exalted.

He pushed himself to his feet and walked to his desk, settling into the upholstered chair. The One had stated that the pledges were not to be tampered with. But Voras's command overrode everything for the Templar. He was Voras's voice, his hands, his body in the material world. The question wasn't which order to follow but how to make the woman's death seem like a tragic accident, caused by ruffians among the Forsaken.

The spring Festival was coming soon. The Templar nodded to himself. His soldiers had reported that the pledges were complaining because they were not permitted to attend this year. What a shame it would be if the desert woman were to sneak out to see her family and be killed by thieves who did not respect the Temple. Indeed, it would serve on two fronts—­casting suspicion on the Forsaken and getting rid of the infidel before she created more discord in the Temple.

He would lure the desert woman out by sending another pledge, Joaquil, to tell her that her twin was waiting with an urgent message. Joaquil was a pretty little pledge, and since he'd had her in his bed the past few afternoons, no coercion needed for that one, she would do as he bid. Sulis might not trust Joaquil, but she wouldn't be able to resist if the Templar put the right words in Joaquil's mind. The third evening of the Festival would probably be best. All acolytes would be called to the main pavilion for the Great Convocation, so there would be no witnesses. His place in the ceremony was last, so he would have plenty of time to dispose of the woman before he left his tent for the main pavilion in front of hundreds of witnesses. He'd have a guard follow Sulis in case she did actually try to sneak out before then.

The Templar smiled and nodded to himself. His Lord would be pleased with him. It was a shame to kill an exotic creature like Sulis, but if the stability of the realm were to endure, she would have to be sacrificed.

K
ADAR STARED A
T
the message Ashraf handed him.

“How did Sulis get a message to you?” he asked, slightly accusingly. He hadn't been able to get near her since she had healed him. The Temple was keeping the pledges tightly under wing.

“I told her the day she pledged that if she needed help, she should send a message through the Forsaken. She remembered me.” He shrugged and grinned. “It would have been nice if she'd written anything at all to me. Alas, I seem to be only her messenger boy.”

They were sitting downstairs in the Hasifel kitchen. Once the two families were partnered, Ashraf had asked if he could stay in the guest room off the main house when he was in Illian. Supposedly, it was to foster goodwill between the families, but Kadar thought he just liked eating their cook's Southern meals and being in the middle of the family bustle. He seemed to miss his family home in Frubia. Nasirofs weren't wanderers like the Hasifels, focusing exclusively on their silk production and using traders like the Hasifels to sell it for them. Ashraf was better traveled than his kin, but an inn was no substitute for the large family gatherings he was used to.

Kadar opened the letter and stared at it a moment. He looked up doubtfully at Ashraf, who shrugged.

“She wants me to go shopping for her?” Kadar asked, incredulous.

“That seems to be the case,” Ashraf said.

Kadar eyed the paper thoughtfully. “She needs these by next thirdday, preferably in the morning. Why then?”

Farrah spoke up from where she was kneading bread at the counter. “That's the night of the Great Convocation—­you know, when all the Temple acolytes and pilgrims gather and listen to endless sermons about the founding of the Temple and the place of the four deities in ­people's lives. Everyone goes to it—­well, everyone but the Forsaken and you two.”

“But wouldn't the pledges go also?” Kadar asked.

Farrah rubbed her cheek, getting flour on it. “No. My cousin said the pledges are being kept away because they haven't been taken. The acolytes say that leaves their minds open to corruption by the common ­people. That's why pledges only go out into the public if they're going to a lesson.”

“I wonder why she needs a bunch of herbs?” Kadar said, looking over the list.

“What do you feel from her, Kadar?” Ashraf asked.

Kadar had gotten to the point where he could separate himself from Sulis's emotions, except when she felt things very strongly. He focused in on himself, checking the link he'd grown used to.

“She's excited. I don't feel any fear there, but if it weren't strong, I wouldn't feel it anyway.”

“So, she needs herbs at a time when everyone but her and the pledges have left the Temple. Think she's found a way to do the ceremony herself?” Ashraf said.

“Maybe. I wish I could tell more than just emotions. It would be handy if we could just project things into each other's minds,” Kadar said.

“I wouldn't mind having some sort of bond with your sister,” Ashraf said.

“Why are you so fascinated with her?” Kadar asked curiously. “You only met her once, and she was rude to you. Since then, she's used you once as a messenger boy and glared at you when you watched her leave the healing hall.”

Ashraf shifted uncomfortably, the smile wiped from his face. “I do not know,” he admitted. “I am not the type to believe in love at first sight, but I admired her from the moment I saw her standing in the street. I admire her courage, her determination in the face of a challenge. The whole way home, I thought of our conversation before she pledged herself and wondered what I could have said differently. I was determined to find some way to talk to her again.” He shrugged. “I never said I was a rational creature.”

Farrah snorted. “You can say that again,” she said, coming to stand beside Kadar. She looked at the list. “Your aunt has those herbs in her storeroom. Do you want me to bundle them up for you?”

Kadar nodded. “Now, how to get them back to her?” he mused.

Ashraf shrugged sheepishly. “I read the letter before I brought it to you,” he admitted. “When I asked, Mariah said she can put them in Sulis's bed when she changes the linens later in the week.”

“Good,” Kadar said. “And I'll let Sulis know that we will be loitering at vendors close to the Temple during the Convocation ceremony. If I feel alarm from her, we will be close by.”

Ashraf grinned. “Excellent. That should drive her as crazy as when I tailed her from the healing hall back to the Temple. When she noticed, I could feel her irritation, and I don't even have a bond to her like yours.”

S
ULIS WAS BEGINNI
NG
to feel worried, as she hadn't heard even a word from her brother since she had sent the note days before. Lasha had kept her promise and snatched portions of herbs from the healing hall. Alannah had been successful in the kitchens. Now all that remained were the desert herbs, and she was coming up empty-­handed. Maybe the Forsaken weren't as trustworthy as Ashraf thought, or perhaps he hadn't passed on the message to Kadar. There were only three days before the pledges' planned ceremony.

Sulis went directly to the dormitory after vespers, avoiding Lasha's questioning gaze. Her bed was slightly rumpled, as it always was when Djinn had been lying on it all afternoon. She sighed and lay down on the crumpled bedding. She shifted uncomfortably as she felt something hard under her pillow. She pulled the package out, and quietly opened the bag. Both herbs were there in more than ample quantities. There was a note as well, and she pushed the herbs back under the pillow while she read it.

She shook her head at her brother's overprotectiveness. And it was just as obvious to Sulis that he was continuing to encourage Ashraf's attentions toward her. Ashraf didn't need encouraging, as far as she was concerned.

Everything was now ready, but the next few days seemed to last weeks. The pledges were given heavy readings in scripture but were released from their classes and afternoon lessons until after the Festival. They spent much of their time in Ivanha's courtyard, trying to keep out of the way of harried acolytes running from the shrine to the Festival grounds. The Temple was practically deserted as the deities' acolytes moved their shrines to large tents on the Festival grounds. The Temple itself couldn't accommodate the mass of pilgrims coming into Illian from all over the Northern Territory.

“Why do they all come now?” Sulis asked Alannah, as they watched an acolyte of Ivanha carrying a giant tally book through the courtyard.

Alannah shrugged. “It's considered twice-­blessed to be handfasted at the Festival. And the bazaar shops that come in for the Festival are worth facing the crowds. I've always loved Festival time. When we were young, my girlfriends and I would braid our hair with flowers and wander the grounds, buying frivolous things and getting into trouble.”

Lasha agreed. “Everyone's thrilled they made it through the boring months of winter. There are lots of pregnancies to be blessed, from all the long nights. Trading picks up and guards come in to get Voras's blessing before heading out to new skirmishes and campaigns in outlying provinces. Even ­people from far north try to make at least one pilgrimage in their lifetime to Illian for the Founding Festival. It's considered the mark of a true believer.”