Leopard in Exile (30 page)

It was the Prester, Shining Spear, who had shown her the Numakiki treasure rooms, filled with gold and

gem-stones—of European manufacture—enough to ransom a hundred kings. What quirk of fate had

brought that royal treasury here, Meriel did not know, but she had told Shining Spear all that she knew of

the artifacts he guarded as steadfastly as had his fathers before him, and of the lands from which they had

come. Though she had asked, no one among the priesthood recalled where they had come from before

they had settled here, or how they had come to have such riches in their possession.

With the Prester's support, her life in the Numakiki city had become much easier. After her liberation, she

had worked as a servant in the temple along with the highborn Numakiki maidens. With them, she

attended the ceremony with which the ancient Prester greeted each dawn, recognizing with sorrow and

horror the blurred remains of God's own Holy Mass, worn away to hocus-pocus by the passing of

centuries. Unable to keep silent, she had spoken to the old priest of the True Faith of which his own ritual

was only a dim copy, but Meriel was no priest, and there was little of the Greater Mysteries that she was

able to teach the old man, though she found in him a friend, a wise and curious mind who delighted in

learning.

At last, trusting greatly, she had even confided the detail of her vision to him—how she had been

summoned by angels, led into this wilderness to find the Grail and to take it from its guardians.

But though Shining Spear had believed Meriel, First Sword—the younger of the two priests she had met

upon her arrival here in the city—had not. First Sword steadfastly refused to even consider releasing the

Grail into her hands, claiming that her visions were a trick to rob the Numakiki of its wealth. And in the

end, the matter was not left to be settled by faith, but by a show of political strength. First Sword would

not give up his treasure, and by his decree Meriel would live out her days a servant of the Numakiki.

She had prayed for guidance, and when Sarah had arrived, it had seemed to Meriel that her prayers

were answered. But after the first shock of cheer at being reunited with her friend, Meriel was forced to

admit that Sarah's arrival made little difference to her plight. She was a powerless captive here, her quest

at a standstill.

And so, when she told the others her tale, there was much she omitted. She told them nothing of angels

summoning her into the wilderness. And though she spoke of hoarded treasure, she did not mention the

Grail.

They spoke until very late, with Meriel purposely delaying until the curfew gongs tolled through the city.

One of the reasons she had been allowed to go off with her friends was so she could question them and

report all she learned to First Sword before he met with them himself. The Numakiki sub-Prester liked to

seem omnipotent, and for once his vanity and arrogance had worked to Meriel's advantage. But she had

won a small delay, nothing more. It was frighteningly likely that tomorrow First Sword would decide that

Sarah, the haughty Creek princess, and the Cree warrior represented a threat to his power, and their

heads would go to join those of other enemies that had hung upon the gates of the city.

Somehow she must prevent that. And get the Cup away from him before she had to explain somehow to

Sarah that she would not leave without it.

As always, when she returned from outside, Meriel went first to the Grail.

It was as luminous as ever in the last rays of the fading evening light. Men had fought and died to possess

it, empires had risen and fallen because of it, but the wealth with which men had ornamented it only

underscored the fact that the heart of its mystery was a fundamental simplicity, the beauty of a thing

crafted for use by the need to which it must be put.

"You will not have it, Green Stone."

Meriel jumped, hearing First Sword's voice speak her Numakiki name. She turned to face him.

First Sword stood in a pool of shadow. The rushlights that illuminated the sanctuary burnished the

highlights of his coppery skin, leaving his eyes in shadow.

"It is not for myself that I ask it, but for God," Meriel reminded him.

"Who is this 'God' of yours, that he demands our treasure? When it no longer resides among the People,

then the People will pass away, so does the ancient wisdom teach us. Is that the revenge for which you

hunger?"

"I do not want revenge," Meriel said wearily. She longed to ask after Shining Spear, for she knew that

the old priest kept the dawn and sunset vigil over the Cup, but she would not give First Sword that

satisfaction.

"You want to take the Cup away," he repeated.

"I seek to do what God commands," Meriel answered resolutely.

"And your friends? These spies you have brought upon us? Do not bother to tell me what they have said

to you today, for I will not believe it."

"If you harm them, First Sword, you will gain powerful enemies among the Nations," Meriel warned

despairingly.

First Sword laughed. "No one will know. Enjoy your time with them—and with us—Green Stone. Both

grow short."

The Sanctuary was wholly lit by lamplight now, and First Sword turned and strode away.

He will not listen
! Meriel felt like stamping her foot in despair, but the Red Cross Medicine Society

guards still watched over the Grail, standing motionless in their niches as if they were carved of stone. At

last she sighed and turned away, her worst fears confirmed. Her friends' arrival would be all the pretext

First Sword needed to eliminate what he had always seen as a threat to his power, the stranger and her

friendship with Shining Spear.

Though at this time of day Meriel should have gone directly to the Young Women's sleeping room, she

went instead to Shining Spear's rooms, still worried at his absence. Bright lamplight showed from beneath

the door, and Meriel could hear the murmuring of women's voices within.

The guards had become used to her comings and goings here, and so admitted her without protest.

Meriel pushed open the door and went inside.

Shining Spear lay upon his bed, two of his daughters with him. Meriel let out a soft cry of dismay, and the

wise old man's eyes opened. He held out his hand.

"Come here, Green Stone, and tell these foolish girls that I am well enough to keep my vigil," he said.

Meriel came and knelt beside the bed. "Of that there is no doubt, Grandfather, but the time of the vigil

has passed."

"Did First Sword do what must be done?" the old man asked.

"He did," Meriel answered. She would have said so even if it were not true, for there was an undertone

of grey in the old man's skin, and his breathing was labored.

Shining Spear was the oldest man Meriel had seen among the Numakiki, and Meriel did not doubt that

much of the reason he had lived so long was to spite First Sword, who was eager to assume the full

dignities of Prester. But even the strongest will must bow in the end to the dictates of the body. Last

month—yesterday—this morning—Shining Spear had been a frail old man. Tonight, he was a dying one.

Meriel clasped his hand in her own. It was cold and dry.

"Leave him alone, foreign woman!" Gold Hands shook her by the shoulder, jerking her backward, and

White Knife raised Shining Spear up to drink from a small wooden bowl. Meriel caught the scent of the

bitter herbs used as a purgative by the Numakiki, and doubted that whatever medicine White Knife was

giving Shining Spear would help him very much.

But the color returned to his face after he drank, and Shining Spear was strong enough to send his

daughters from the room. They went, casting baleful looks over their shoulders at Meriel.

"And so, Green Stone. It looks as if I will soon see with eyes of my own the truth of what you have told

me."

"I hope you will," Meriel said, tears welling up in her eyes. "And perhaps this is only a passing sickness,

and you will live for many years yet." She reached into her robe and withdrew the one possession the

Numakiki had not taken from her—her precious rosary. She placed the crucifix in his hand and wound

the prayer beads about his wrist. "But I must tell you that I will be leaving you soon. My friends have

come today, in search of me, so…"

"You are a very bad liar, Green Stone," the old man told her gravely. "First Sword is jealous and proud.

He will release nothing that his hand has taken up. In a time of change, he will stand like the hundred

years' oak which does not bend before the storm. When he falls, as he must, many will fall with him."

"I know," Meriel whispered, bowing her head.

"You must escape," Shining Spear said. "You and your friends. It can be done. My guards are loyal to

me, not to First Sword. They will take you down the river, tonight—"

"I cannot go without the Grail," Meriel said miserably. "I cannot." The prospect of her death made her

tremble in fear, but she could not abandon her promise to God.

The old man's eyes closed in defeat. "Then the Great Spirit must save you, Green Stone, for I cannot.

Send my daughters to me. I will sleep now."

The moon had risen, granting its pale illumination to the night. Fireflies danced in the air outside, and the

sound of the river underlay the calls of frogs and the cries of owls and other night hunters. As the

moonlight crept across the dormitory wall, Meriel lay sleepless. She had been faced with an impossible

problem before, but now it was a problem with a time-limit. The moment Shining Spear died—and

despite her brave words, that time would come soon—First Sword would become Prester, and Meriel

had no doubt he would execute the four of them. From what the Creek woman had said, war would

surely follow, but First Sword would not care about that. He was not a peaceable man.

Try as she might, Meriel could not imagine any solution that allowed her both to achieve the Grail, and to

allow the four of them to escape. In all the time she had been here, she had never so much as touched the

blessed Cup. There was no way at all that she could carry it from the temple and out of the city

undetected.

Why did You lie to me? If you meant me to come here to die, I would have come
—
but You brought

me here, and Sarah followed me, and it is all for nothing
!

Still, there was no answer.

"So the Numakiki are white men who came here long ago," The Daughter-of-the-Wind said, when

Meriel had left. The priest-guards had also left them, barring them in for the night The window was

covered by a stout lattice—enough to discourage escape, for the sound one made getting through it

would surely bring guards. The Creek sachem frowned for a moment, considering matters further. "This

explains much, considering that they are all mad. But I think your friend is mad as well, Sarah, for she

says she still wishes to go to Nouvelle-Orléans, even though you have found her."

"I think she believes that her husband may be there," Sarah said slowly, for there was much about

Meriel's tale that still puzzled her. Meriel had spoken much of her adventures and little of the reason for

them, and so Sarah was not quite sure why Meriel had left Baltimore in the first place, for it was

obviously not to go in search of Louis.

"The news from there is very bad," the Sahoya said, for the travelers had shared news and gossip along

the road. "The French Emperor's new ruler is an evil man. It is said that the rivers run with blood because

of him, and the spirits of the earth flee his shadow. He calls devils to walk beside him."

"What nonsense!" Sarah said roundly, nettled at this lurid reflection of her own formless fears.

"I do not think so, Sarah. Louisianne has always been a bad friend to the People, enslaving us when it

could. She brings men from all over the earth to toil and die for her. I think the French Governor would

enslave devils if he could, and so he has," The Daughter-of-the-Wind said.

"Rumors," Sarah said stoutly. "And I, for one, will wait until I get there to decide whether they are true or

not."

"So you will still go south?" the Sahoya asked.

"If—when!—we get out of here," Sarah answered.

"Have you a plan?" Meets-The-Dawn asked, his voice low.

"Not yet," Sarah admitted. "I wish Meriel had told me the whole of her news—she is holding something

back. I can feel it."

"Perhaps she thinks—as do I—that to talk of ransom is a soothing story for children," Meets-The-Dawn

said, with an angry glance toward the Sahoya. The Creek shaman regarded him coldly, still certain that

her rank would protect her and that she could send word to her people through the Numakiki's trading

partners.

"There is something here that does not make any sense," Sarah persisted. "If Meriel did not come in

search of her husband, what
did
she come looking for? And for that matter, I would dearly love to know

how it is that the Numakiki speak Latin, and no tongue of the People!"

"Latin is the tongue of the Black Robes who come with the French to bring us the White Christ Religion,"

Meets-The-Dawn offered, sounding as puzzled as Sarah. "But the Numakiki do not trade with the

French."

But their speculations could gain them nothing, nor was there any real possibility of escape from the place

in which they were held, and so at last Sarah and her companions slept… to be awakened, just before