The Cult of Sutek (36 page)

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Authors: Joshua P. Simon

BOOK: The Cult of Sutek
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I don’t believe it.

Andrasta continued. “We can’t be seen carrying around this much money. We’d be a perfect target for bandits.”

“Considering all I’ve seen you do, I wouldn’t think a few bandits would be a problem,” said Dendera, speaking for the first time.

“A few wouldn’t, but if word got out what we were carrying, more than a few would hound us.”

“I’m at a loss,” said Jahi. “What do you suggest?”

“I was speaking with your captain earlier. It seems you have quite a bit of extra armor, weapons, mounts, and other supplies left over from the war preparations. Let us have our choice from them to replace our own. Then give us three months of wages.”

Jahi shook his head in disbelief. “So, you don’t want all of this?”

Andrasta paused as if reconsidering. “No. It will only slow us down.”

Relief washed over Jahi’s face. Rondel eyed Andrasta but the warrior refused to meet his gaze. A thin smile formed as he realized how hard that had been for her.

Well, I’ll be.

* * *

Andrasta leaned forward, rubbing the neck of her mount while she and Rondel rode through Girga toward the eastern gate.

She had never been one to name her horse, but since hers had come with one, she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. She liked to think she selected the animal from Jahi’s private stock because of the accolades the stable hand had rained on the young beast.

“The fastest creature I ever saw. And by the gods, she’s strong.”
She could still hear the bald, little man listing her mounts attributes.

However, it was the name of the mount that first drew her attention.


Jewel
, huh?” Rondel had asked.

“A good omen,” was all she had said in response.

Jewel whinnied as she patted her side.

Andrasta felt like a new woman in the new clothes and armor.

At first, she thought the armor would take some getting used to, but already it felt as familiar as her old mismatched collection. She couldn’t wait to run through her drills in the lighter weight.

The only thing she had refused to switch out were her swords and daggers, knowing she’d find none that would satisfy her so well. She did however pick up a new shield and a pair of bolas.

Not a bad haul after all.

“So, are you going to tell me why you did it?”

Andrasta looked to Rondel. “Why I did what?”

He snorted. “Don’t play that game. You know what I’m referring to.” When she didn’t respond, he sighed. “Fine, I’ll say it. Why did you give up the money?”

“We left with far more than we had before.”

“We could have bought all this ourselves with the money Jahi was ready to give us and still have enough coin to buy our own hunk of land afterward. Why did you do it?”

Andrasta opened her mouth, then closed it. With the question before her, she found herself unable to answer easily. Maybe she did it because she felt the quality of mounts and supplies far exceeded what they could have obtained on their own. Maybe she did it because she had surprisingly grown to like Jahi and respect Dendera. As much as she hated to admit it, maybe Rondel’s weak decision-making had rubbed off on her. She clenched her jaw before her old master’s voice sounded in her mind, saying the same.

Then again, maybe I’m just a fool.

“I don’t really know,” she finally admitted.

“I do.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“The truth is you’re not really the cold person you like to pretend to be.”

She snorted.

“I’m serious. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you can still be a real mule when you put your mind to it, but when the situation calls for a tough choice, you’ll do the right thing. That’s why you saved Dendera without my coaxing. That’s why you went above and beyond what you had to do to help Jahi develop his talents. That’s why you turned down the money.” He paused. “And that’s the same reason you didn’t leave me to rot in prison.”

“Some might say I just have a penchant for making poor decisions.”

Rondel chuckled. “Regardless, I’m glad for it.” He paused. “But something has been bugging me for a while.”

“What’s that?”

“Your attitude toward Dendera.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why were you willing to risk your life to save some random girl when we first found her in the woods? Then once we discovered she was nobility, you wanted nothing to do with her. And now, you seem to be all right with her once more.”

They rode in silence as she mulled the question over. It wasn’t that she didn’t have reasons for her actions. She had plenty. What bothered her so much was whether or not she could or should share them. None of her reasons had been the result of pleasant memories.

Then words began to tumble out of her mouth, shocking her. “I was mad at myself. My father is a great chief in Juntark. My mother was his fifth wife, the daughter of a minor noble near Juntark’s northwestern border.”

“You mean in Cael?”

She nodded. “That is where the name Andrasta comes from. It is not the name I was born with. Amani is how I’m known among my people. It is the word for peace as my mother’s marriage to my father ended a long-standing border war. The marriage was not popular among my people, and neither was I, nor my mother. Just as I stand out in the rest of the world for my dark skin, I stood out in Juntark because I’m lighter than those who are of full blood. When I spoke of the women of Juntark being strong when it suits them, I said as much because they made my mother’s life, and my life, miserable.

“Anyway, I was my father’s sixth daughter and a half-breed at that. Yet still, I was to be married off to form an alliance with a smaller tribe nearby. It wasn’t much, but I was excited to finally prove my worth to my people. But, the man I was set to marry had a sister. She felt our marriage would be an insult and the day before our wedding gave me my scar.”

“What did your father do?”

“He wiped out the tribe in its entirety as the move was a grave insult to him more than it was to me. However, the point had been made that any marriage to me would only cause him problems. Marrying his half-breed daughter off was one thing. But scarred and also a half-breed, not even a pig farmer would want me.” She took a breath. “I had two options left. Live in hiding in my father’s house as a leech until one of us died, or make my own life. I chose the latter and with my father’s approval, I went to train with Master Enzi. But that’s a story I don’t care to get into.”

“I’m sorry.”

Andrasta shrugged. “It’s in the past. I hardly even think about it,” she lied, fighting the desire to spit the taste of it from her mouth.

They rode another two blocks without a word. The streets were relatively empty at that time of night so the sounds of their horses’ hooves filled the air.

Less than a mile from the gate, three men stepped out from a side alley, stopping in the center of the street. Andrasta’s hand quickly went to the hilt of her sword as did Rondel’s. The man in the middle raised his hands.

“Whoa. I don’t want trouble. I just want to talk.”

“Trying to corner someone in the middle of the night is a strange way of setting up a meeting,” said Rondel.

“I got word you were leaving the city. I didn’t see any other options.”

“What do you want?”

“My name is Utet.” He lowered his hands slowly. “Word is that you and your partner brought down an entire cult.”

“Maybe. We don’t like to brag.”

Andrasta refrained from choking at the comment.

“People who could do that are the sort who could also take care of a little problem I have.”

“What sort of problem?”

“Poachers stealing my cattle. I’ve tried to bring it before the watch, but they’ve ignored me.”

“So, you want to hire us?” asked Rondel.

“Yes.”

“Hold on a moment.” Rondel edged his mount closer to Andrasta and began to whisper. “What do you think?”

She blinked and responded also in a low voice. “Are you serious? We have a goal.”

“Yes. But we could use the money to travel to Zafar.”

“What? The jewel is in Bashan.”

“Yes. But a great library is in Zafar.”

“Why do we need to go to a library?”

“Because there are things about the tower where the jewel is hidden that we can learn there.”

She gritted her teeth. “You told me you had the whole thing memorized.”

“Well, I have the entrance memorized. That’s it. No one knows for certain what the rest is like. I need to do research on the histories and legends surrounding it before we attempt something like stealing the Jewel of Bashan.”

Andrasta began to seethe, feeling like she had been deceived.

Rondel swallowed. “Look, what does it matter? Why not pick up a few jobs like this along the way, if it means we can continue honing our skills together? I don’t want to take a risk in thinking I’m ready for such a thing as the Jewel of Bashan before I really am and then blow the whole job.”

She let out a slow puff of air. As usual, his arguments made sense. “No deceptions. Not with me. Tell me the truth from here on or tell me nothing.”

“Of course. I—”

“I’m serious.” She spoke slowly. “Deceive me again and we’ll find out whether I’m as good a person as you think I am. Understand?”

“Absolutely.” He paused. “So, the job?”

She sighed. “Take it.”

Rondel turned, smiling at Utet. “Let’s find us some poachers.”

END

 

 

Thank you for reading my story. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a rating or review at the site of purchase as well as other places such as Goodreads and Librarything. Like many other indie authors, I do not have a marketing team working for me and a positive review (even if only a couple of sentences long) can go a long way in enticing others to give my works a try.

The Epic of Andrasta and Rondel has been a fun world to create. I hope you'll consider reading the next two standalone novels which will both be released by the end of Summer 2014. I currently have plans for another five books in this world to be released over the next couple of years. I'll also be releasing more novels in other worlds during the same time period. If you’d like to know when these will be made available, please consider signing up for my mailing list. It is used solely to announce new releases or other major announcements.

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Thanks again for your support.

Joshua P. Simon

About the Author

 

Joshua P. Simon is a Christian, husband, father, CPA, fantasy author, and heavy metal junkie. He currently resides in Atlanta, Georgia, and hopes that one day he can leave the life of a CPA behind and devote that time to writing more of the ideas bouncing around his ADD-addled brain.

Excerpt of
The City of Pillars: The Epic of Andrasta and Rondel, Vol. 2
(complete series now available)

 

Chapter 1

Like most cities in Erba, Zafar was one of shadows. Tall box-like buildings with square windows and arched doorways blocked blistering sunlight from penetrating the narrow and crowded streets. Rondel knew the architecture was born out of necessity as such designs allowed the city’s citizens to survive the scorching sun.

What separated Zafar from the other dots on Erba’s map was that its shadows practically engulfed the city. Only a handful of areas ever saw sunlight and most of those were near the city’s center. During the day, the light on the streets never brightened past a dull gray. At night, it felt like one had to be part feline to see unhindered in the stale, musky spaces.

That thought led Rondel to question the heritage of his partner as he watched her easily climb the outer wall protecting the museum. Andrasta found hand holds in the pitch black as if they were lit by sparkling diamonds. She waited at the top with an outstretched arm for him to grab.

He took a three-step running start, placed his boot on the bottom of the wall, and drove his leg up. Hoping the momentum might aid his jump, he reached for her hand. He missed and cursed his poor night vision. His feet struck the cobbled path beneath him with a scuffling tap.

Might as well be thunder.

Rondel panicked at the noise, pressing his back against the wall, trying to make himself appear as small as possible. His good hand found the hilt of his blade.

“Get your rear moving and try again before the next patrol comes. I’m not looking to fight,” Andrasta hissed above him.

“Really? You want to avoid a fight? You feeling all right?” he whispered back. A sword was about as natural in his partner’s hands as a lute had once been in his.

“Get. Up here. Now.”

Rondel cringed at the frustration in Andrasta’s voice. Though he couldn’t see her face in the dark, he didn’t have to in order know it wore a scowl. He spun away from the wall and stepped back.

Though they had been together for nearly a year, working jobs with varying levels of questionable morality, he still deferred to her when it came to the finer points of thievery.

After all, the last year encapsulates my entire experience as a thief. Andrasta on the other hand seems made for the role.

He stared at Andrasta’s outstretched hand. The woman lay on her stomach atop the wall to give him a closer target.

He inhaled, took four great steps, and leaped. Andrasta’s calloused hand latched on to his wrist. The shortened fingers on his bad hand tightened around her arm.

She grunted and swung him up until he could bring up his good hand to grab the wall’s edge. He pulled himself up the rest of the way.

As usual, with Andrasta helping him, the process took less than a couple of seconds. They had perfected the movement over many months.

It bothered Rondel they had to invent the process at all, but no matter how much stronger he got, unless he scaled something with well-defined hand holds, the missing finger tips on his left hand made it nearly impossible to manage such climbs alone.

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