The Obsidian Temple (9 page)

A glance into the other two rooms showed that Master Anchee and Grandmother were already up, but there was no one in the gathering room as Sulis passed through.

Sulis hesitated at the front door. There was a stranger in ragged green robes sitting beside the stream in the meditation garden. Djinn lay sunning in the grass beside the man, head touching his crossed legs. The man seemed deep in reverie, and Sulis started to back up, so as not to disturb him.

As though he heard her thoughts, he glanced around and beckoned to her. To her surprise, he was not one of the desert folk—­he was deeply tanned with leathery skin and weather lines around his eyes and mouth, but he was definitely of Northern descent. Unlike the others of this community, he was thin and bony, not muscular. His shock of pure white hair was short and glistened in the sunlight. He smiled as she settled cross-­legged beside him.

“You are wondering how this old, weak, man from the North became the Prophet,” he said, smiling and looking back at the water.

“You're the Prophet?” Sulis blurted out, surprised. He looked more like a scrubby iterant wanderer.

He laughed. “Your desert folk need titles and labels,” he said. “I'm just an old wandering Vrishni who saw too much. The Northerners did not like my visions, so I went south. And the Southerners liked my visions too much, put me to work training their Chosen ones, and called me the Prophet. But I am just the dirt you trod on, stable and sure, and was named so as a child. I am Clay.”

“Master Clay,” Sulis began warily.

“Just Clay, love,” he interrupted. He picked up a stick and made circles in the little stream, creating ripples in a relatively still pool. “Master Clay is too long, and my attention is short.”

“Clay,” Sulis began again. “What type of training will we be doing?”

He glanced at her and cocked his head. “Much of what you've already done. You will have a Master of Weapons to teach you to protect yourself, a Master Archivist to teach you histories. And a Master of Languages will be assigned so that you get the words of the ritual perfect. And you'll have me to confuse and baffle you to tears. And to be your best friend. And to expand your mind in ways you had not thought of.” He stood suddenly, unfolding his legs with a dexterity that surprised her in a man so old. “Do not worry about Ava. She will stand tall if you stay by her side.”

Sulis blinked at this sudden change of topic. Before she could stand, he strode off toward the dining hall. “And you will be her rock,” he called back over his shoulder. “Sausages for breakfast. You won't want to miss them. Good day, Anchee!”

Sulis realized that Master Anchee had been standing by the side of the house, watching the scene. He chuckled and waved at Clay's disappearing figure.

“Yes, he's always like this,” Anchee said, answering Sulis before she asked her question. “And yes, it can be frustrating. I'm to fetch you and Ava to breakfast.”

There were indeed sausages and a grain porridge set up for them to help themselves to at breakfast, and various sliced Southern fruits that Sulis pointed out to Ava as being delicacies anywhere but here, where they were common. By the murmurs around her, Sulis understood that the honey to sweeten the porridge was a rare treat this far south of the greener lands. Grandmother was already at a long table, talking with an older man with deep laugh lines around his eyes. Sulis's gaze was arrested by the contented look on her grandmother's face and the way her hand was clasped in his.

Sulis looked away and realized Anchee was leading them to a long table where Clay sat, talking to Ashraf. She thought about resisting and sitting by herself but knew she'd have to face the Frubian sometime.

“Ashraf will be one of your protectors while you practice,” Clay announced. “He will train with the warriors but be a part of this group. You will learn to appreciate him.” The last sentence was directed at Sulis.

Sulis smiled at Ashraf, hoping it wasn't too brittle. “I already appreciate Ashraf,” she said. “He has such a fine form; especially when the training master yells at him.”

The others laughed.

“I very much hope he will be a distraction for you,” Clay said cryptically, picking up his tray. Ashraf's smile widened. “You need to enjoy life a little. I will teach you new dances this week before I leave.”

He carried his tray to the bin and walked out. Sulis looked at Anchee, who shook his head.

“Do we know where the Prophet is traveling to?” he asked Ashraf.

“He said he was needed somewhere else and would be gone awhile,” Ashraf said. “He told me to keep all of you safe.”

Anchee smiled. “We're in a city of warriors. As a newcomer, you won't have to bear that burden on your own.”

“I'm not certain how new they'd consider me,” Ashraf said. “I've been here training with them for months now.”

“How did you come here?” Ava asked. “I thought you were still in Illian, plotting with Farrah.”

Ashraf grinned fondly at the girl. Kadar had told Sulis this past summer that Ashraf was friends with Farrah's family because he was helping Farrah lead some sort of Forsaken rebellion.

“It is good to see you here, Miss Ava. You look very desertlike in those beautiful blue robes,” he said, and the girl blushed and gave him a shy smile.

Sulis shook her head, remembering her own reaction to the flatterer.

“I
was
plotting with your sister,” Ashraf continued. “And part of that plot was to bring the Forsaken south, to this abandoned city I'd heard about as a child. Imagine my chagrin when I went scouting to find this city occupied by fierce warriors. They swarmed me, brought me into the city, and I haven't been able to leave since though they allowed me to send word to my family and Farrah that I am alive and training with them.”

“You saw through the illusions?” Anchee asked sharply. Ashraf nodded, and Anchee explained. “There are illusions around the city to reinforce the notion that it is abandoned. And as with the Obsidian Temple, anyone who approaches feels a strong aversion, then fear, which causes even the bravest to turn away. Only those with strong talent can see through the illusions. I was not aware the heir of Nasirof had such talents.”

“Neither was he,” Ashraf said, dryly. “What is the Obsidian Temple?” he asked, glancing around at them. When no one spoke, he grinned broadly. “So I'm not the only one having adventures.”

“But now we get to adventure together,” Ava said, grinning with him. “It's nice to see a face from home, Ashraf, even though I know you're really from here.”

“Well, I am glad to see you, too,” Ashraf declared. Then he looked straight into Sulis's eyes and smiled. “And you as well, now that you are no longer married to the Temple. I feared for you, Sulis.”

Sulis was unable to breathe, caught by his brown eyes. She looked down and fumbled with a piece of tang-­fruit, hoping no one noticed her blushing.

“You can see she is fine,” Grandmother said from behind them, her words a warning.

Sulis smothered a yelp and turned. She'd been so focused on Ashraf, her Grandmother's voice had surprised her. Two women were with Grandmother, and as attention turned toward them, they smiled at the group.

Grandmother gave Sulis a wicked grin, knowing she'd snuck up on her again. “You don't need to concern yourself with Sulis, Ashraf,” she said. “You are wanted in the training hall. The Prophet says you are to be one of our protectors. Come to our house this afternoon when we train with him.”

Ashraf bowed slightly to her and rose. He put a hand on Ava's shoulder and squeezed it once before leaving. Sulis managed not to watch him, turning her focus instead on the two women with her grandmother.

“This is our archivist, Master Ursa. She will set a schedule for your studies, and extra training for Sulis in speaking the sacred language. Master Tull will set up a schedule for your unarmed-­protection training. Since the Prophet is leaving, we will train with him this week, and he will tell us what to study until he returns. There is much to do, and we don't know how long we have, so every minute is precious.”

Sulis nodded and looked at Ava, whose face was tense as she studied their new teachers. She put her hand on Ava's, and the girl smiled slightly, without turning her gaze to Sulis. “I think we can handle anything you choose to throw at us,” Sulis said, her attitude deliberately cocky to boost the other girl's confidence. “Let's get this training started.”

After they'd set the training schedule and were leaving to meet with Clay, Master Tull touched Sulis on the shoulder. Sulis let the others go ahead and stayed back with both of the masters. Her grandmother hesitated, and Sulis waved her on.

The masters studied Sulis a moment, their eyes sharp, as though looking for flaws. Sulis stood tall and returned their gaze.

“You seem to have an influence on the Loom,” Master Tull started.

“Ava and I are friends,” Sulis said. “I stand by her in the stead of her older sister.” She said the words as a warning, and the two glanced at each other. She wanted to make sure they understood that she would not influence Ava in whatever way they seemed to be thinking.

Tull seemed satisfied with that answer. “Then you will watch out for her?”

“She isn't the Loom's Guardian,” Ursa corrected sharply.

“No,” Tull conceded, “But I believe she is more important now as a protector and guide to lean on.”

Sulis shook her head impatiently. “What do you want?” she asked bluntly. “If you want something of Ava, ask her yourself.”

Tull grinned, seeming to like Sulis's bluntness. “She is very young and not of our culture. We fear there are things she may want or need but will not come to us for. We would like you to let one of us know if there is anything she needs, even small things. Her path is hard, and Kabandha is not a comfortable place. We would soften her burdens if we could.”

Sulis grinned back. This was something she could do. Starting now. “Well, she didn't sleep well last night. She mentioned wanting a bed.”

The masters looked at each other. Ursa's brow drew in, puzzled.

“With a nice, soft topping,” Sulis added. “Knowing Northerners, she'd probably be happy to have some chairs with backs on them. They're not much for floor sitting in Illian.”

“A bed?” Ursa asked.

“Yes, I've seen those,” Tull said. “They sit off the ground, with several thick layers of padding. I will confer with the merchants before they leave. They should know how to either create or import the frame. We can trade for the feather down we will need in one of the coastal cities.”

“Many of the wealthier families use backed chairs in Frubia,” Ursa ventured. “It would not be difficult to have a few tithed to us.”

Tull bowed slightly to Sulis. “Thank you for your contribution. This is exactly what we were hoping for. Let us know if the Loom has any future needs, and we will attempt to meet them.”

Sulis tried not to snicker as she left the eating hall. It seemed Ava would get her bed after all. It would be hard resisting asking for little luxuries that Sulis herself wanted. Well, if Ava also wanted them, what was the harm? The next few months were going to be steady, endless work. A few comforts were little enough payment.

 

Chapter 9

K
ADAR WAS GLAD
to be back in Illian after several long journeys. His trips out of town scouting for a new location for the Forsaken had taken him north, and he'd seen the first flakes of snow start to fall before finding what they'd looked for. It had been a long three months of searching, but it was over at last. He and Nabil, the caravan guard Uncle Aaron had assigned to help him with his task, had barely made it back for this meeting of the Forsaken. Kadar could not wait to tell Farrah about their discovery.

This meeting of the Forsaken was more crowded than any Kadar and Ashraf had held. The Forsaken had hidden their brown cloaks in alleys before the meeting, on Farrah's advice. That way it looked like a legitimate town meeting if a solider happened upon them. It was a risk for the Forsaken to be seen without the cloaks that marked their caste, but it was also forbidden for Forsaken to meet in large groups like this. Everyone participating in this rebellion knew the risks.

Farrah spoke in front of the Forsaken, and he proudly admired how she energized the crowd. They loved her and would follow her through anything. He heard her words repeated like mantras by the Forsaken, and Kadar was reminded of how his grandmother could hold a crowd with her voice in the same way. Farrah was thriving as a leader of ­people. Her tactics were brilliant, and so far she and Severin had created a great deal of havoc with the soldiers, without provoking them beyond anger. Kadar did not agree with the harassment because innocent ­people had been injured. But he could see Farrah's brilliance, using the harassment as a distraction while others raided the Temple warehouses to squirrel away food for their next plan of attack.

Kadar was less admiring of Severin, who stood beside Farrah, looking upstaged. It was clear to Kadar that Severin was only in the rebellion to discredit his brother. He, too, was an excellent tactician—­but only helped where he would not be revealed. He had charisma, and had won over the Forsaken, but Kadar was worried about his loyalty. Farrah had assured him, almost contemptuously, that she held Severin's leash, but Kadar did not think the Illian man would be content to be tied.

Severin had been trained his entire life to lead the ­people who oppressed the Forsaken. He still lived in his family home and trained with the Temple teachers. Kadar didn't know what leash would hold Severin if his father offered to take him back as heir.

Farrah finished speaking and turned to Severin. The look of longing, maybe even love, that Severin lingered on Farrah made Kadar pause. Farrah smiled back at him winsomely, and Kadar realized that perhaps he did know what held Severin to the cause after all. His heart beat strangely in his chest as he wondered what Farrah thought of Severin these days. She'd hated him when they'd first met in the marketplace a year ago. Clearly, her feelings had mellowed. Kadar had been out of town the past ­couple of weeks exploring the rumor of an abandoned town north of Trebue. Perhaps something more than friendship had blossomed between Farrah and Severin while he'd been away.

Farrah looked out over the crowd. Her smile grew as she found him in the back. His heart settled back into a familiar rhythm. He had a child with Farrah. They had a connection Severin would never share. He was her only lover, her only love. Things had changed between them in the fall and early-­winter months since Kadar returned from Shpeth, their adoration turning from the hotter flame of lust to a more temperate, comfortable, mature love. But that didn't mean their commitment to each other was lessened.

Farrah called attention to him.

“Kadar and Nabil have just returned from a scouting mission,” she said, directing everyone's gaze to the back of the room. “Do you have anything new to report?”

The gazes turned to Kadar ranged from neutral to slightly hostile. The rebels had not been happy about Ashraf's abandonment, and the news that Kabandha could not be occupied. Kadar, with the help of Nabil, the man Uncle Aaron assigned to him, had diligently searched for a new location to show that Southerners still cared about the Forsaken cause.

“We have been to the town of Stonycreek, which is north of Trebue and close to the mountains, and found it to be inhabitable,” Kadar said triumphantly.

He waited for the murmurs to die down before continuing. “As we reported last time, we'd heard rumors that Stonycreek was abandoned when Voras's soldiers recruited the able-­bodied men and youngsters into their guard and pressed the ones who would not volunteer into ser­vice. These rumors were true. The wells are still sweet and pure. The road to the town is still in good enough repair for wagons to travel over. There are overrun gardens that should still produce vegetables, and a reliable spring for watering livestock.”

“And how will the first of us to go protect themselves?” one Forsaken called from the crowd. “We won't be there to protect them, and we don't have the money to bribe the bandits to stay away.”

Nabil stepped forward from his place beside Kadar. “We have the bribes for the bandits. We also have two dozen men trained in weapons and homestead protection who will be assigned to this town”—­Nabil smiled, his teeth white in his dusky face—­“to ‘encourage' the bandits to stay away if the money isn't enough. We will buy food and fuel to stock the town until gardens can be dug in spring.”

Talk erupted among the crowd as they spoke among themselves, then asked questions of Kadar and Nabil. Farrah beamed at Kadar across the heads of the crowd between them, and he smiled back, thrilled to give her this gift. Severin nodded in appreciation and let Kadar handle the questions and comments. When it seemed that the same things were being repeated again and the same questions asked, Farrah stepped up and called the meeting back to order.

“We have much to think about,” she said. “And much to thank our Southern friends for. I would like you to go and think about who you believe would serve best to prepare this town for the others who will follow. We will allow our Southern friends to stock the town, then will first want to send the older children and those who are able-­bodied but unable to fight here to create homes. Those less able can follow. It will need to be a small number of ­people, whom we can trickle out in caravans and night trips. Also think about the next step. Which among you are willing to stop working for the oppressors: the Temple and Circle families? The Southern merchants have vowed to keep you fed, to keep you clothed while you protest. But you will need to have courage, courage to stand up and show your face as a fighter for the freedom you long for and deserve!” The crowd cheered, and she beamed out over them. “Go blessed by the One, go in courage with dreams of freedom and prosperity,” she intoned.

“Freedom and prosperity,” the crowd responded. Severin placed a hand on Farrah's shoulder and smiled, his chin lifted, as the meeting began to break up. It would take time for everyone to leave, as ­people trickled away a few at a time, into the streets to find the hiding spots and rerobe before heading back to their homes.

Farrah threaded her way through the crowd and flung her arms around Kadar.

“You did it! You found a place for us!” she exclaimed in his ear.

He spun her around and kissed her. When they broke off, Kadar glanced at Severin, who was standing behind Farrah. A look of pained envy was plain on the Illian's face, but then his features smoothed into a pleasant smile as he realized Kadar was looking at him. He held out his hand, and Kadar shook it heartily.

“Great work, Nabil, Kadar,” Severin said. “I was never convinced the desert route would work, but I also wasn't certain how we would find someplace north to evacuate ­people to.”

“We couldn't continue with our plans until this was in place,” Farrah said, her beautiful face still lit up with a smile. “We are indebted to you,” she told Nabil.

Nabil shook his head. “I am just one of the thousands of my ­people who dislike this slavery I see your ­people under. It is a threat to our ­people as well as an affront to human dignity and compassion.”

“A threat to your ­people?” Severin asked. “You believe there will be war?”

Nabil lifted his chin. “When I hear of entire northern towns raided for their men, and by Voras, I must think they are for an army. We have been searching for where these men are taken yet have seen nothing. Which means that someone has taken great pains to hide a large number of ­people. This is something we will report back to our superiors in the desert.”

“There have been rumors that Voras and Ivanha want the South's riches and the paths through the desert for years,” Kadar said. “This seems to confirm that they are readying for war, and more quickly than our elders might have expected.”

Kadar took great satisfaction in knowing he would be the one reporting news to the desert. Or at least, he would report to the
farspeaker
at the edge of the desert. Kadar had been practicing speaking from a distance the past four months since his block was removed by Alannah, often to Uncle Aaron as he moved through the northern territory. Though Uncle Aaron had not approved of how the block had been removed, Kadar had more than made up for it with the news that the Vrishni were
farspeakers
for the Counselors of the One. The news had Uncle Aaron speechless for several minutes after he'd been told.

“Have you heard anything from your father about an army?” Kadar asked Severin, returning his attention to the present meeting.

Severin shook his head, looking regretful. “My father barely speaks to me now, and then only about domestic things. He plans on officially instating Jayce as his heir at the Festival of the Founding.”

Farrah put her hand on Severin's arm comfortingly, and Kadar tamped down a surge of jealousy.

“You deserve better,” she reassured him. “From your father, whom you've served so well. And from the Temple, who should not accept your replacement since they are the ones who stole your bride. You are as much a victim as we are.”

Severin nodded, seeming to eat up her reassurance, and Kadar resisted the urge to take Farrah's hand in his own.

“Will you come back to the hall with me and see Datura?” Kadar asked Farrah. “Aunt Raella said you'd hadn't been by this week.”

A frown crossed Farrah's face, then she smiled faintly. “Yes, of course. Just give me a moment to find my robe.”

“How is your little one?” Severin asked, watching Farrah.

“Well. She is rolling over now, and Aunt Raella thinks she may crawl soon. Thank goodness my aunt adores babies, as she and the wet nurse have had to care for Datura while I've been away,” Kadar responded. Severin's short nod and absent smile told him the man was just being polite and was not that interested in babies. Kadar would have felt the same a year ago, before it was
his
daughter. Now he loved talking with other fathers about their infants, loved watching as his little girl became bigger and learned to smile as she held her chubby arms out to Kadar when she saw him. Severin and Nabil started talking about the details of moving Forsaken to the abandoned town as Kadar waited for Farrah.

Farrah returned with her cloak. Kadar waved absently at Severin and Nabil, and they walked into the night. The air was still a little chilly, and Kadar put an arm around Farrah's shoulders as they walked. She leaned against him.

Kadar hesitated, then said what was on his mind.

“You realize that Severin is falling for you, don't you?” he asked.

He felt Farrah shrug her shoulders under his arm. “Don't worry about him, Kadar. I have it under control.” She peered over at him. “Or are you worried for you? You know I'd never take up with the enemy, not after what he did last year in the marketplace.”

“You still see him as the enemy?” Kadar said, surprised.

Farrah hesitated before answering. “He still could be if his father's regard wavered from his brother. But the Forsaken assigned to him are watching him as much as helping him. They'll take care of it.”

“Take care of it? How?” Kadar asked.

Farrah pulled away, irritably. “Drop it Kadar. I told you I've thought of everything. Just trust me for once.”

“Of course,” Kadar said, placatingly. They walked shoulder to shoulder quietly a block.

“It was a good meeting,” Farrah said, breaking the silence. “You gave them hope again. You gave me hope.”

“It's been a long search,” Kadar admitted. “For a while I wasn't sure we'd find anything suitable. If we had a lead on a village abandoned because of recruiting, we would find the wells fouled by Voras's men. This was one of the few places where just the able men were taken, and the town was left to fend for itself.”

“Do you think it was more recent?”

“Yes. Nabil believes Voras has been creating too many Forsaken, and other deities are starting to notice and question his motives.”

“Why would the other deities care? They never have before,” Farrah said, her voice heavy with cynicism.

“Because many of the Forsaken were under the protection of other deities, took them as their patron gods. Deities don't like having their followers taken away. That's why the first war began, because each deity wanted the most followers. It became a battle of wills against the One, but it started with the greed of the deities to have more prestige and power.”

They reached the hall and entered quietly. Datura had already been put in her cradle in the nursery. Dana put a finger to her lips, then smiled and left the room to give them time with their child.

Kadar studied his sleeping girl with a smile on his face. She was growing strong, changing every week. She could smile and scoot around a bit on the floor. In a matter of months, she would be crawling, then walking and talking. And then there was no holding her back. She would rule the Hasifel clan like the rest of the women in his family, leaving her men to trail behind.