The Cult of Sutek (31 page)

“What about Andrasta?” said Jahi.

“We’ll wait for her at the meeting point. But the longer we stay here, the more likely we’ll be discovered.” Jahi started to open his mouth, but Rondel cut him off. “I know you have questions, but we don’t have time to answer them now. We’ve already talked things through. I need you to trust me.”

“All right.”

“Keep your head down and play up the servant garb whenever you can. Remember what Andrasta said and don’t expose yourself until you have to.” He touched the pouches at his side and the sack in his hand, which housed the clay containers of chemicals. “I’ve got a feeling we’ll need every trick we can think of to get out of here.” He showed them one of the containers. “Some of the tricks will be a bit louder than others.”

* * *

Jahi listened to the last of the plan. He had to admit for someone who had little experience in what they were doing, Rondel seemed fairly calm and in control.

Jahi tied some loose binding around Dendera and Oni’s wrists, enough to give the appearance they were bound, but something they could also remove easily. While he did this, Rondel told the rest of the girls what role they would play.

“Once we subdue the guards by the door, run out in small groups of three to five. This will allow you to watch each other’s backs. Don’t all go in the same direction otherwise the cultists will bottle you up and trap you. Once out, do whatever you can to cause chaos. Pick up the cultists’ weapons if possible. Kill. Maim. Scream. Start fires. Barricade doors and passageways.” Rondel paused, appearing guilty for instructions that was setting them all up to die. “Open doors where you hear things locked behind them. Anything. After you do, try to get to the large cavern by the altars. There’s a second level. That’s where our meeting point is. We’ll wait as long as we can.”

Surprisingly, the servants were eager to get involved as well. Apparently, those that displeased the cultists were the ones sacrificed on the bloody altars.

Rondel passed out several clay containers he had hidden in his sack to the servants. Jahi could tell he hated parting with such weapons.

“So many boys and girls eager to die for us,” whispered Jahi. “It’s hard to imagine.”

“Not if you’ve lived here as long as we have,” said Oni. “You’ve only seen a portion of the horrors. Everyone here is willing to do whatever they can to make sure others don’t suffer similar fates.”

“Why did it take so long to do something then?”

“We tried many times before and failed. We lost hope. Your sister gave us the hope we needed to try again.”

Jahi looked to Dendera. “Yeah, she does have a way of needling you into something.”

“I heard that,” Dendera said across the room, speaking with the muscular girl called Nailah.

“Ready?” asked Rondel.

Jahi nodded.

The former minstrel took a long, slow breath. Jahi saw for the first time how much he was struggling to keep it together. “Let’s get this over with.”

Rondel walked over to the door and knocked. It squealed open.

“You were in there for a long time,” said one of the guards. “I thought you said you were in a hurry.”

“I am, but some things took longer than expected.” Rondel pulled Dendera and Oni behind him as he stepped outside.

Jahi eased his way out last.

“Wait. What are you doing?” the guard asked while looking Oni and Dendera over.

“Are we going to do this again?” asked Rondel, coldly. Jahi was surprised at how well he muddled his voice, hiding most of his accent. “I told you my orders are straight from Menetnashte. They are not to be shared.”

“It’s one thing to go into the chambers, but another thing to take someone out. Only Nizam has done that.”

Rondel shrugged. “Well, I guess Nizam was busy. Who am I to question our high priest? And for that matter, who are you to do so? I’m sure he wouldn’t like hearing how you’ve tried to stop me from carrying out his will.”

The two guards exchanged a glance.

Rondel whipped out his sword and skewered one of them through the chest. Oni let out a small gasp and Jahi pulled her and Dendera out of the way of the fighting. The second guard stepped back, hand moving toward his sword. Rondel pressed him and after two quick moves, opened the man’s throat.

He actually looked like a seasoned soldier.

Rondel wiped his sword, taking several calming breaths. “Let them out,” he told Jahi.

Women and servants streamed out of the room in small groups. Two stopped and snatched up the swords of the guardsmen, discarding their sharp stones in the process. Two others attempted to quickly strip the bodies and adorn themselves in the cultists’ attire.

“Stop! What’s going on?”

Jahi wheeled. Seven men ran toward them from one side of the tunnel. His eyes widened when he saw Menetnashte and his massive bodyguard among the group. Over a dozen young women and several servants charged Menetnashte. Dendera’s voice rose above the sudden clamor trying to calm a panicked Oni.

Jahi grabbed them both by their arms, pulling them behind Rondel who was shouting for them to hurry.

They ran off amidst the mob infiltrating the tunnels.

Chapter 18

Andrasta kept her head on a swivel while walking toward the chamber of virgins, trying to get her bearings in the underground labyrinth. She knew her skills would be put to the test while trying to make her way with Dendera back to the predetermined meeting point.

One step at a time. Get the girl first.

They rounded a bend in the tunnel, welcomed by the rushing sound of frantic footsteps, and a sea of hushed whispers.

“Stop! What’s going on?” asked the captain.

A wave of young women in loose white robes and boys in tan sprinted toward them with crude weapons of sharpened stone. She saw someone dressed in black and gray garb run away while leading two women and a boy. They took a sharp left and disappeared down a side tunnel.

That’s got to be them.

The man next to Andrasta drew steel and Menetnashte wheeled on him. “Do not kill the girls! They’re needed for the ceremony.”

Andrasta ignored the comment, drawing her own sword.

“You heard the high priest,” said the cultist next to her.

“I did. I don’t plan on killing any of them.”

She ran him through, cracking several ribs on its way to the heart. She yanked the blade free. A gout of blood poured out of the open cavity. Two other cultists turned on her with wide eyes.

“What—”

Andrasta stopped the question on his lips with a hack to his neck. She sliced through the side of another just as the wave of young girls slammed into the rest of them, bringing with them a scent of lavender.

A demonic growl ripped through the air. She looked up as Nizam shielded Menetnashte from the attackers. The beast of a man broke the wrists of several girls while snatching away their rocks. He took a slash along the arm without flinching. Behind Nizam, Menetnashte stood with his back against the wall, staring intensely at the madness.

Andrasta felt a shift in the air, her legs suddenly weary. The smell of old death crept into her nostrils. She shook her head violently, recognizing a spell being cast.

Of course, you fool. The high priest would know sorcery.

Andrasta used the distractions of sorcery and physical violence to flee, running back the way they had come. Shouts of anger echoed after her.

* * *

Confusion. Anarchy. Disorder. Chaos. Mayhem. Pandemonium.

Yes. Pandemonium. That’s the word. Sheer pandemonium.

Rondel finally found the right word to describe the uprising of girls and servants against the Cult of Sutek. He felt a bit of satisfaction in doing so, like he once did when completing a particularly tricky verse in a song he was writing.

But finishing a verse was nothing like the satisfaction of watching a cultist die at the hands of a servant with a sword.

The satisfaction was swept away with the sword that bit into the face of a young girl carrying a hatchet. Blood splashed against the stone wall, fluid choking off the scream trying to come forth from her hacked jaw.

Rondel halted as three cultists exited a tunnel to his right. They froze at the sight of Dendera and Oni. The three men looked ragged, wearing only parts of their standard, boiled-leather armor and black clothing, as though they had just been sleeping. All three bled from shallow cuts on the arms, chest, and legs.

“You managed to take two alive?” one asked with quick breaths.

“Yes.”

“Better than us. Two of the whores caught us in our sleep. Killed three others. We had to gut them just to get them off of us.”

“I was lucky,” said Rondel, once more trying to mask his accent. He gestured to Jahi. “And I had help.”

They eyed Jahi warily. “Be careful. We heard the servants are involved as well. Likely how the virgins got out.”

Rondel shrugged. “This one has proven loyal.”

A different one spoke. “Wait. That’s the Emperor’s daughter.”

Rondel looked over his shoulder, feigning ignorance. “I guess?”

“Doubly lucky to grab her.”

The first cocked his head to the side. “Why are you walking this way? Shouldn’t you be taking them back to their chamber?”

“Too much chaos there. I thought the safest place would be by the altar.”

The first to speak rubbed his chin. “It’s as good a strategy as any.” He jerked his head. “We’ll walk with you to make sure none of the others try anything crazy.”

“And to keep the servant honest,” said another.

He saw them eye the two girls.
And to claim credit for helping to keep them from escaping. Still, having them along will help alleviate suspicions.

He glanced at Jahi and gave him a sly wink. The boy relaxed slightly, the shimmering air in his hands fading. Rondel could tell the boy had been itching to help, but just as Andrasta had suggested before, he wanted to keep the boy’s talents a secret for as long as possible.

A scream echoed somewhere in one of the side tunnels. “We should get going until others are able to re-establish order.”

* * *

Confusion spread quickly in the network of tunnels. Even though Andrasta moved farther away from the origin of the chaos, the whole place was in disorder. She wasn’t sure how Rondel had managed to get those young girls and servants to fight, but she was glad he did. What they lacked in skill, they made up for in viciousness. Their screams and those of their victims echoed throughout the rock maze.

There was no better sign of how fast chaos spread than in the reactions of those she passed. The first half dozen people ignored her. The next three only shouted or cursed in her direction. However, someone running away from the sounds of fighting with a bloody sword in hand started to draw attention.

The next two cultists gave a half-hearted attempt at slowing her down. She barreled through them. Later, four others blocked her path with weapons drawn. She took them down quickly.

She had heard dozens of footsteps approaching after that confrontation, too many for her to handle on her own. She ducked into a side passage, hoping she could loop around the reinforcements.

Andrasta regretted her choice as no torches lined the tunnel she had chosen, and light from the opening behind her soon disappeared. She thought to go back, but shouting told her that someone had discovered the bodies of the four cultists.

Groping in the dark, she felt like a fool. The last thing she wanted to happen was for the tunnel to dead end and be cornered.

Or fall through some unseen hole in the floor.

She froze and hunched lower to the ground, feeling more carefully with her feet as she edged forward.

Andrasta cursed as one of her master’s sayings came to her.

“Better to die with a sword in your hand and an opponent in front of you, than hiding and slinking in the dark like vermin.”

Anger rose. A bitter taste rested on her tongue. She spat, ready to turn around and face the cultists on her terms.

A scream ripped through the blackness ahead of her. It distracted her enough to think calmly. She continued on and after rounding several short bends saw torchlight from another opening.

“Quit moving!” came a voice.

“Just let me gut the stupid whore. She bit off part of my ear,” said another.

The sound of thrashing and muffled screeches came next.

“You heard the orders from Menetnashte. We aren’t to kill any of the girls.”

“Then maim her or something.”

“We’re going to hear it already for the other one. We need to bring this one back in good shape.”

Andrasta poked her head outside where two men stood over a girl laying on her side. One held her down, blood streaming down the side of his head. The other bound her wrists.

“Keep struggling,” he said. “I’ll get back at you during the Heka. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re mine.”

The girl paused momentarily in her struggles as a flicker of fear shone in her eyes. The two men stood the girl up. She tried to run, but they held her tight. She made herself dead weight and dropped to the floor.

The one without injury cursed, then picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “Let’s get her out of here.”

The two guards moved away from Andrasta’s intended path. She thought about making a run for it, but could not. Not after knowing what awaited the girl. She sprinted after the men. She didn’t worry about silence. Speed was more important.

The man with the injured ear wheeled. Andrasta slashed diagonally across the man’s chest, scoring his torso from shoulder to hip. Her follow-up cut off the scream forming in his throat.

The other cultist dropped the girl and tried to draw his sword. Andrasta stabbed him through the heart. He crumpled beside the other.

Andrasta bent over and untied the girl’s wrist. She caught the girl’s hand before fingernails scraped across her eyes.

“Stop!” Andrasta pulled her mask down. “I’m not one of them.” The girl relaxed, wearing a look of confusion. “Come. I will take you out of here.”