The Cult of Sutek (35 page)

The performers did an admirable job with the music and he admired the vocalist for pitching his voice an octave higher than someone with his range could comfortably handle in order to simulate the female parts. However, the magic of the tale had lost its luster.

He always had an ear for music, but it seemed that since his injury his level of critique had only increased, knowing that in his day he had been able to do so much better.

He opened his eyes, pushing aside the longing to make the sweet melodies that had once defined him, remembering that the minstrel had died the day he lost his fingertips and the use of his voice.

Maskini, the minor noble who had been once ignored by the rest of the powerful political figures in Iget found himself in a much different role.

As I have too.

“I can’t thank you enough,” whispered Maskini, “for saying what you did.”

“Think nothing of it.”

He had taken advantage of the enraptured audience when retelling the tale of the adventure to lift up the minor noble, emphasizing the importance of Maskini’s knowledge of urilaudium.

Of course he fibbed about how many of the cult he and Andrasta had killed. It was only natural for him to take advantage of the opportunity to boost their burgeoning reputations.

He also made sure to paint Jahi as a powerful young sorcerer and exaggerate the actions of Dendera in staging the revolt. The one thing he didn’t dare change was the heroics of the servants and young women who gave their lives so everyone else could escape.

The wet eyes of all in attendance told him he hadn’t needed to embellish their efforts.

I only wish I could do more.
It moved him considerably every time he thought of what they sacrificed.

“Even still,” said Maskini. “People are listening to me for once.”

“Well, hopefully your standing will continue to improve in the courts.”

Maskini frowned. “That’s doubtful. I wouldn’t be surprised that when the newness of your tale wears off, people will forget about my knowledge and remember only my lack of wealth.” He tugged at his worn shirt. “It’s a shame that to make a difference, money and the perception of knowledge goes further than having the knowledge itself.”

Rondel grunted, catching movement from one of the dinner guests out of the corner of his eye. “Pardon me for being forward, but have you ever married?”

Maskini’s face reddened in embarrassment. “No.”

“What if I was to tell you there was an older, single woman with considerable wealth who also never married. And that this person would do anything and everything for the man who swept her off her feet?”

Maskini caught sight of the flicker in Rondel’s eyes and turned toward it. “Jamila?”

“Have you met her?”

“I haven’t.”

“Would you like to meet her?”

“I don’t know. I—”

“It’s not her appearance, is it?” asked Rondel with hesitance.

“Oh, no. That sort of thing doesn’t bother me. It’s just that she’s considered to be a bit odd and she’s turned down every suitor who has tried to obtain her hand. What chance could I ever hope to have?”

“Plenty. Others failed because I wasn’t the one making introductions on their behalf.” He grabbed Maskini by the arm and started walking. “Allow me.”

* * *

Andrasta watched the exchange between Rondel and Jamila.

The large woman’s face became a wheel of emotion, turning from adoration to confusion, then anger, and finally understanding and joy. Rondel gave the woman a hug and left her speaking with the noble who looked remarkably nervous talking to the woman.

The former minstrel wore a faint grin as he walked over.

“What was that about?” asked Andrasta.

“Doing a little matchmaking.”

“Passing off your problems to someone else is more like it.”

“No. I think they’ll be good for each other. Maskini will treat Jamila right. He’ll always be thankful for her giving him status among the rest of the nobility. And Jamila will be thrilled to spend her money on someone who actually appreciates her.”

“You mean she wasn’t upset that you were breaking the promise you made?”

“At first. But I explained that I was not worthy of her love. That my time in prison had changed me to the point that I worry I could never settle in one place. She deserves someone who wouldn’t keep her up at night waiting for him to return.”

“And she believed you?”

“Of course. I laid it on pretty thick. I’m just giving you the summarized version.”

“Why bother telling her anything at all? We’re leaving the city tonight. You could have just left.”

“The old me would have done that.” He paused with a shrug. “I guess the new me wanted to right some of my past wrongs. I never realized how my lies and actions affected others until now. She waited years for me.”

Andrasta didn’t know what to say so she let the silence between them linger.

The regret in Rondel’s voice gave her pause as she thought about how the decisions in her own past had affected those around her. None brought her the same level of guilt that Rondel held when speaking about Jamila.

Because although they may have been selfish, they were also justified,
she told herself.

“Are you ready to leave?” Rondel asked.

She raised an eyebrow. In truth, she had been ready to leave long ago. However, she hadn’t wanted to raise the issue, knowing she’d likely be going against some courtly protocol. “So soon?”

He nodded. “I know you want to get back on the road. And honestly, I do too. I think what I told Jamila was true. Staying too long in one spot feels . . . uncomfortable.”

Andrasta saw him eyeing the musicians, longing in his face. “Too many reminders of the past?”

“In part.” He paused. “Besides, we have a mission to get back to.”

She thought of the Jewel of Bashan. “We do.”

“Then let’s say our goodbyes.”

* * *

Dendera stood next to her brother in the great hall, staring blankly at the attendees of her brother’s dinner. She had already met each of them once when they took turns offering condolences for her father’s death and congratulations for her and Jahi’s safe return. It was all customary, and after a while her responses had become mechanical to the point where she had to force herself not to utter them before the individual expressed their thoughts.

After the initial round of greetings ended, the true discussions began.

Just like that, Father is forgotten.
She sighed.
Not by me.

The first one to enter discussions with Jahi had been King Kafele. Surprisingly, the wizened old man hadn’t been as eager to put his arm around her.
Too engrossed in his own concerns,
she thought, listening to him go on and on about who Emperor Chuma might exalt to take command over Menetnashte’s lands. Dendera was thankful for his preoccupation and took the opportunity to stay at her brother’s side.

Jahi handled the situation well, recognizing it was too soon to make rash decisions. He did not want to appear indecisive or incapable of leading his people.

Mother and Father would be proud.

Having drifted off into thought, Dendera jumped as a cold, clammy hand touched her own.

“I beg your pardon, my lady. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” said Kafele. The old man was staring at her as if waiting for her response.

She composed herself with a hard swallow. “It’s quite all right, my lord. I apologize but I must still be weary from my time away.”

Jahi cleared his throat. “King Kafele was just saying that he wished your betrothal to him could have worked out, but in the end he understands that things don’t always end as planned.”

Dendera blinked, speechless.

“I admit your brother’s announcement was a bit of a blow, but he did well in providing a suitable replacement,” said the old man. He gave her a slight bow, then bowed once more to Jahi before excusing himself.

“You reneged on our engagement?”

“Of course. Father only set the thing up because he needed Kafele’s resources. With Emperor Chuma back in control and Menetnashte dead, there will be no war. Why make you suffer?”

“But what about offending Kafele? He may have seemed all right with your decision, but you don’t want to make a new enemy.”

“I know. Like he said, I found him a suitable replacement.” He gestured.

Dendera followed the move, watching as Kafele approached a strong young woman adorned in an expensive red gown, one that in her mind exposed far too much skin. Her mouth dropped. “Nailah? But she’s a commoner. A simple farmer’s daughter.”

“Kafele cares little about that. He wants only a beautiful young wife who can finally provide him an heir as his previous ones were deemed barren.”

Dendera shuddered. “But how could you force that on Nailah after all she did to help us escape?”

He chuckled. “I didn’t force her to do anything. Just watch.”

She did. Nailah placed an arm around Kafele, while pulling him close. She smiled while whispering something in the king’s ear. “You mean she wanted to marry him?”

“Jumped at the offer. As you said, she’s a poor farmer’s daughter. Marrying a noble and having the chance to raise up her family and her future children is an opportunity she could have only once dreamed of.”

“But he’s so old and disgusting.”

Her brother shrugged. “A means to an end in her mind.”

Dendera shook her head, unbelieving at the turn of events.

Jahi frowned. “I’m sorry I kept it from you, but I was working out the details until right before the dinner.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m thrilled. It’s just. . . I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with myself now.”

“Whatever you want. You’ve taken care of me for years. It’s my turn to take care of you. Take your time and look for someone you really want to marry.”

Dendera wrapped her arms around Jahi and squeezed him tight.

* * *

All heads in the dining hall had turned as Dendera embraced Jahi in a great hug. No one knew what to make of the break in protocol. As Rondel approached, he grinned at the sibling’s genuine affection for each other.

It’s good to see them doing well. And a lack of certainty among the nobility is always a good thing.

He slowed a few steps from brother and sister, clearing his throat. He hated interrupting their moment, but like Andrasta, he was ready to leave.

Dendera pulled away from Jahi. Though they looked tired, older even, they appeared their happiest since returning to Girga.

“I hate to interrupt. . . .” started Rondel.

“But it’s time that you are on your way,” finished Jahi.

Rondel nodded.

The boy sighed. “I’m not surprised. Though I was hoping you would both reconsider my proposal and stay on with me.”

Jahi had offered Rondel a position on his staff, making him chief advisor while placing Andrasta over the training of his army and defenses.

“We’re flattered, but neither of us are ready for something like that.”

“I understand.” He stepped off to the side and whispered something to one of his guards. The man hurried off and Jahi faced them again. “Come, let’s retreat to my father’s study to discuss your payment.”

Rondel’s heart tugged, torn with the thought of accepting payment or not in light of his relationship with the boy. Still, he followed.

They had just settled on the wicker chairs when a knock sounded. A guard entered the room carrying a chest that clinked with each step. Rondel couldn’t help but notice the eerie similarity of what happened with Horus.

Even the guard is the same.

Jahi took the chest and unlocked it while Dendera stood at his side. He flipped open the lid, letting it drop back to expose the contents. Where before Horus had filled the chest with random pieces of metal and trinkets, it now contained gold, silver, and several precious gems of sapphire and ruby.

“I think this should be satisfactory,” said Jahi.

Rondel blinked. “All of this is ours?”

“I think you and Andrasta have done more than enough to earn it.”

Rondel closed his mouth, realizing he probably looked like a fool. He cast a glance at Andrasta, expecting her to snatch up the chest as she had with the pouch of money Horus had given them. Her mouth gaped. “I don’t think either of us expected to see all of this since your men were unable to recover what the cult had stolen from your father.”

Andrasta grunted.

“The taxes from the Festival of Nut have come in.”

“So the coffers are full once more?”

Jahi hesitated. “Not quite. Revenues weren’t as high as expected since many fled the city after word got out about Father and Dendera. Many left the festival early rather than spend their coin here.”

“What does that mean for you?”

“Money will be tight for some time. I may have to borrow from King Kafele, but that shouldn’t be a problem since I’ve set him up with his new wife.”

“Being in debt to another is never a good thing.”

Jahi shrugged. “We’ll get by.”

We’ll get by. Code for this is going to be a struggle.

All the joy Rondel felt when first looking upon the open chest of riches faded. It was more money than he had ever seen in one place, but when he thought of where it would leave Jahi, its value meant little.

“Is something wrong?” asked Jahi.

Rondel leaned back, trying to mask the internal conflict that must have shone on his face. He tried to think how he could leave without putting Jahi in such a financial strain while also not upsetting Andrasta. He knew the money would easily finance their goals.

Rondel opened his mouth, closed it, paused, and opened it once again, hoping that by doing so, the right words might spill out.

“Rondel is thinking the same as I am,” said Andrasta, breaking the awkward silence. “We cannot accept the payment as is.”

What?

Jahi’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I thought this would be enough. Perhaps, I could sell off—”

Andrasta cut in. “No. We never talked specifics regarding our payment. This is too much.”