Escape From Zulaire (15 page)

“Amazin’.” Wilson stopped in his tracks to stare. “How did anyone construct such a big building on a mountaintop without anti-grav?”

“It’s breathtaking.” Andi came to stand next to him. Shading her eyes with one hand, she gazed across the spectacular vista. “I once read an old account of a visit here by one of the earliest traders, but his diaries did
not
do this place justice.”

The precariously located monastery was designed in the shape of two joined pentagons, the smaller in front, facing them about a quarter of a mile away across the cloud-filled gorge. The white stone walls reflected the golden-reddish beams from the sun, till the entire building glowed. Andi half closed her eyes against the scarlet-tinged glare. Tiled in red, the roof was broken by small chimneys here and there. A massive archway provided entry from the bridge stairs into a circular courtyard. Another steep set of stairs led to a doorway at the second-story level. The conjoined building towered behind, rising another two stories into the sky.

Facing them were blank walls—no windows, doors, or decoration of any kind. The structure filled every inch of space on the rocky pinnacle. The mountain fell away to the canyon floor many thousands of feet below.

As for the suspension bridge—Andi swallowed hard. The bridge was unsupported, except for colossal pilings at either end. Carved stone steps led down from where she now stood, slightly above the level of the monastery. Then came the wooden, hanging part of the bridge, which was by far the longest section. Narrow, without guard rails, the span didn’t even have ropes to hang onto. Leading to the immense archway on the other side was a steep set of stairs carved into the rock.

Rogers stepped past her to the beginning of the descending staircase. “The gong is over here.”
 

“All right, Your Holiness, sir, if you could try to get someone’s attention,” Wilson said, “We’ll make sure the captain is secured tight to this litter. One bad convulsion in the middle of the bridge, and bhengola fever will be the least of his worries. And ours.” One eyebrow cocked, he assessed Andi. “Can you handle this, ma’am? You’re kinda pale.”

 
She let impatience show in her curt tone of voice. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Picking up an elaborately carved mallet hanging on a hook beside the gong, Rahuna gave the inlaid bronze disk a powerful stroke. The result was a clear, bell-like tone, not the crashing discord Andi had expected. Echoing from the mountains around them,
 
the single note repeated endlessly.

Wilson, Latvik and Rogers cursed.

The sergeant shot out one hand to still the quivering gong. “Lords of Space, if anyone is followin’ us, they’ll sure as hell hear that.”
 

Andi sucked in a deep breath of the too-thin air. “Loud enough to wake the dead.”

“It can’t be helped.” Rahuna looped the mallet handle’s rawhide thong back over the hook. “Now we wait.”
 

Fortunately for Andi’s jangled nerves, the delay wasn’t protracted. From across the canyon came a crashing boom as the heavy door on the monastery’s second story banged open. The crystal morning air magnified every sound, even the soldiers’ labored breathing behind Andi. Assaulted by a wave of vertigo, she shook her head to clear it, which did nothing to relieve her pernicious high-altitude migraine.
 

Across the divide, three figures emerged from the doorway.

“Should we signal again somehow?” Shifting from foot to foot with impatience, Andi stared across the chasm. “What if they stay over there and shut the door without asking what we want?
Look
, two of them are going back inside already.”

“Allow me.” Moving with judicious care, Rahuna descended the steep stairs and walked onto the bridge. Fearing the morning dew had made the wooden span slick, Andi decided not to watch Rahuna’s progress. She focussed on a monk in flowing, orange-red robes, waiting for the priest at the arch. From the moment he arrived safely on the other side, His Holiness talked to the man with great animation, gesturing across the gorge.
I wish I could read lips.

She grabbed Wilson’s arm and pointed. “Here comes Rahuna. The monk’s tagging along with him. That’s a good sign, right?”

“Considerin’ we’re all at the end of our endurance. I’m camping right here for the day if we aren’t allowed into the monastery. Pursuit or no pursuit.” His voice was tired and grim.

As Rahuna came closer on the treacherous bridge, his smile made it clear such dire measures would be unnecessary. Stopping at the foot of the stairs, he called to them, “All is well. The monks welcome our party and will attempt to aid the captain. Can you bring him? I’m too tired to climb up there again.”

“No problem, sir,” Wilson shouted back. “Can the monk help carry our gear? I’d rather handle the litter ourselves.”

“Of course.” Rahuna gave rapid orders to the strapping monk following him. Nodding his assent, the man came to their level, moving with a speed and energy Andi envied. Picking up all the packs and bags as if the total weight was nothing, he headed across the skinny, slick bridge nonchalantly.

“Miss Markriss, you and I can help each other across the bridge.” Rahuna beckoned to her. “It isn’t too bad, a bit slippery. With the cloud cover so low, it’s like taking a stroll on a footbridge across a foaming creek.”

The analogy seemed far-fetched to Andi. Smiling, she shook her finger at Rahuna. “Now you’re getting carried away with the poetic similes, sir. You almost had me convinced until that last image.” Working her way down the mossy steps, she took Rahuna’s hand. His fingers clasped hers with surprising strength, giving her renewed energy and confidence. Rahuna tugged her onward, allowing her no chance to hesitate. Together, they took the first step onto the bridge.

“It’s a test of faith for the monks, you know.” Staying in the center of the boards, Rahuna strolled casually. He took quick glances off to the sides, up into the sky and once peering into the void below.

Determined not to give in to her phobia, Andi kept her eyes on her sandaled feet. “Then they should have a normal bridge for those of us who
aren’t
monks.”
 
Thankfully, the bridge was wider than it had appeared from the ridge. A stiff breeze chilled her skin, but the span didn’t sway as much as she’d expected. She tightened her grip around Rahuna’s hand.

He looked back at her with a frown. “Trust my faith to lead us to safety.”

“Deal.”
If anyone has enough faith, it would be Rahuna.

No sooner had she said that than a sudden wind gust buffeted them. She knelt, scrabbling with her free hand to grip the rope linking the boards. She hunkered into the smallest ball she could.
 

After a minute or two that seemed like an hour, the wind stopped gusting. Andi continued clutching Rahuna’s hand. He knelt down, nose to nose with her, repeating her name hypnotically. As soon as she opened her eyes, he reached to take her other hand off the rope. “Come on, you can do it, stand up and let’s finish our stroll before the next puff of wind tests us.”

“My head’s kind of spinning right now.” Rising to her feet under the pressure of his hands, she kept her eyes closed tight against the vertigo.
 

He hugged her. “We’re going to walk, one step at a time. You must open your eyes, but focus on me. Don’t look down.”

She forced herself to nod. “Okay.”

He tugged, and she took one step.

Okay, I didn’t die. I’ll try another step. How many steps can it take to get across this damn thing anyway?
Andi glanced ahead, over Rahuna’s shoulder.
Oh, Lords, bad idea, it must be a
mile
across.

When the next breeze assaulted them, Rahuna looked over his shoulder at her. “Just count the steps to yourself. Let yourself stop thinking. I’ll guide you safely, I swear it.”

 
“Just…keep walking,” she said through gritted teeth, wanting the ordeal to end.

 
The minute she was on the solid staircase below the monastery, she sank onto the mossy stone, breathing deeply. “I hope there’s another way out of this place. I’d hate to tempt fate on that bridge twice.”

 
As the soldiers attempted the same crossing with Tom’s litter, Rahuna laid a calming hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be all right. Sanenre favors us this morning. They won’t fall, nor will they drop him.”

Wilson and Rogers came down the steep staircase, balancing the litter, then started across the bridge, the sergeant in the lead.

Andi sympathized with their slow pace.
I had such a hard time keeping my balance, and I wasn’t carrying anything.
 
“The men are so tired. I hope they don’t slip.”

“It’ll be fine. See, they’re halfway across already. We must move up the stairs to give them room.” Rahuna prodded her into motion, getting her to progress three or four more steps toward the monastery.
 

Andi kept turning to check Wilson and Rogers’s progress behind her. “Where’s Latvik?”

 
Face drawn in lines of strain, the sergeant seemed about at the end of his endurance, breathing hard. “Sent him to retrieve Abukawal and the Tonkilns.” Wilson had to suck in air before finishing his thought. “He volunteered to go.”

“Let the good sergeant save his strength, child,” Rahuna chided her. “Come to the courtyard and meet our hosts.”

As she walked under the archway, weathered carvings caught her momentary attention. The entire entrance was shaped from a block of some translucent, pink stone unfamiliar to her. Huffing and puffing, Wilson and Rogers toiled behind her with their burden. Rahuna urged her onward. A solid wall two yards high, finished with a layer of darker stone, surrounded the courtyard at the top of the stairs. The pavement underfoot was the same vivid red as the roof tiles. Spiky plants were growing in ornate clay pots around the circumference of the courtyard.
 

Huge white blossoms unfolded, opening to the sun. Andi breathed in the intoxicating perfume wafting across to her on the slight morning breeze. “How beautiful. I’ve never seen this flower before.”

“Heart of Sanenre.” Rahuna sneezed. “One of the rarest of blooms. The monks dry the petals to create incense for rituals. Come, the chief monk will be waiting for us inside the entry chamber.” Wilson and Rogers arrived inside the courtyard with the litter. “Gentlemen, you must carry your captain into the monastery, and then your labors will be done for now. The monks will take charge of the patient once he’s within their sanctuary.”

Wilson exchanged weary glances with Rogers. “Guess we can manage one last set of stairs, sir, if you promise no more after that. Lead the way.”

Rahuna hiked up first, followed by Andi. The straining litter-bearers brought up the rear. She gawked at how the surroundings were so calm, clean and pristine.
I need a bath. The soldiers are probably just as grimy and sweaty as I am. We’re wildly out of place here. But the only thing that matters is whether the monks can help Tom.

Standing alone in a column of light, an old monk waited for them. A skylight set in the ceiling above bathed his long, flowing, orange-red robe in illumination, making the monk resemble a living flame. Andi supposed he was meant to represent the embodiment of Sanenre, who dwelt in the fires of the sun.
He really staged this appearance for maximum dramatic effect.
The monk’s pale, oval face above the glowing robe was kind, wrinkled, his twinkling black eyes deep-set under snowy-white brows. White hair surrounded his pate, with a gleaming bald spot in the middle. As he extended his arms to welcome them, Andi couldn’t help but stare at the bracelets of huge, rough-cut Zulaire rubies on either wrist. Each stone by itself would have been worth an Obati lord’s ransom. Elaborate red tattoos adorned the backs of his wizened hands, the details of the patterns now all but obliterated by age and wrinkles.
 

Hovering nearby as Wilson and Rogers set the litter down, Andi worried. Tom was so pale and so still. She knelt so she could put one hand on his chest to reassure herself he was still breathing.
How much ceremony and discussion must there be before we know if
 
they can help him? And we can’t rush through any of it or the monks will be offended. Patience, Markriss.
Negotiation was one of the required skills for her job, and she was very good at it, but the social niceties required before the real discussion could commence were hard for her at the best of times. The stakes were unbearably high today, with Tom’s life in the balance.

Not leaving his spot in the dramatic rays of sunlight, the elderly monk addressed them in a deep baritone voice. “I am Tleer, chief monk of the Monastery of the Clouds. I welcome you to our sanctuary in the name of Sanenre. I pray your petition will be regarded with grace and favor.”

Preparing to make her own plea, Andi stood up, but Rahuna stepped forward immediately, already talking. “One of our party—a brave and worthy soldier—is ill. We ask sanctuary to tend him and to rest before continuing our journey. The winds of storm swirl in Zulaire, Tleer, my brother. It is laid upon us to do our part to disperse these storm clouds. The light of Sanenre must shine forth once more.”

“There may be some risk to you,” Andi said.
I can’t let him give us shelter without warning him.
“Rebel troops may be following us.”