The Cult of Sutek Page 19

  The gallows stood empty, but as they approached, Jahi saw it had seen plenty of use. Old wood supported a worn rope stained in blood where the noose had cut into the flesh during past executions.

  The crow returned. It rested on the hanging rope, its weight causing it to swing in the dead air while the bird pecked at the red fibers.

  Several hundred feet ahead, the outskirts of Meir greeted them. Common among many smaller cities, it had no wall. Instead, dozens of ramshackle hovels situated in a semi-circle served as a barrier to raiders. Half-naked children played in the grass in front of each hut while women washed clothes, cooked, or chopped wood. Jahi knew the hovels or inhabitants would not slow any invaders for longer than a couple of breaths.

  And then it would be a slaughter.

  He was too young to have experienced an invasion firsthand. However, his tutors had lectured on the famous campaigns of old when it was common for lords to squabble over the same tracts of land. It wasn’t until the first Emperor united Iget four hundred years ago, that peace settled.

  And now with the current Emperor uncaring, the wars will begin again.

  He eyed an old woman stirring a cauldron boiling over a small fire. She had the face and the posture of someone who had lived a hard life even without the worries of war. If he failed in bringing Dendera home, his father would invade Menetnashte’s lands, adamant to have his revenge.

  And since Meir sits just inside Menetnashte’s borders, it would be one of the first places to suffer.

  “Are you all right?”

  Jahi blinked at the question, turning toward Rondel. “I’m thinking about all who would suffer if war breaks out between my father and Menetnashte.” He sighed. “We have to save Dendera, not just for her benefit or mine, but for everyone.”

  Rondel said nothing, nodding instead, his mouth a thin line.

  They passed through the outer rim of hovels, down Meir’s main road, muddy from rain. Though the height and size of the buildings within the city grew as they moved closer to the town center, all had seen better days. The few people on the streets looked no better than the structures they passed—bent, tattered, and covered in grime. The smell reminded him of a sick animal unable to control its bowels.

  “This is an old place,” said Andrasta.

  “Very,” Rondel said. “Before the first Emperor came into power, it was destroyed many times in border wars.” He pointed to the foundation of a local feed store. “People kept re-building on the remains of what came before.”

  I forget that he traveled these lands extensively when he was a minstrel.

  Andrasta eyed the foundation Rondel singled out. Her eyes left the building and studied several others nearby. “It could use another razing.”

  The cold manner of her tone surprised him, even though it shouldn’t have, given her nature. He almost defended Meir, but catching a glimpse of a porch leaning precariously to the side with a gaping hole in the floorboards gave him pause.

  She’s right. I just want any razing to be done by choice.

  “Take a left up ahead. It should be on your right after half a block,” Rondel said to Andrasta.

  “Where are we going?” asked Jahi.

  “A local tavern. The best place I know to get information. If those who took your sister passed through here, we’ll find out there.”

  “Won’t they be scared to say anything?”

  “Some will.”

  “You can always find someone with a loose tongue if the price is right,” said Andrasta as she turned off the main road.

  “We won’t be talking to those unless we have to,” added Rondel. “Only Imenand.”

  A short while later Andrasta came to a halt in front of a dive. She dismounted and tied her horse to a nearby post. Rondel did the same. Jahi followed their lead while glancing up at the sign outside.

  “The Twisted Crocodile? That doesn’t sound like a place to drink,” he said.

  “I’ve come across worse names,” said Rondel.

  “It just seems odd.”

  “You can always suggest a new one to the owner,” said Andrasta.

  Rondel gave her an annoyed look. He turned back to Jahi. “A word of advice, never say anything offensive about the place you’re visiting to the owner. It would be like insulting the man’s wife.”

  “Worse, actually,” grunted Andrasta.

  Rondel took the lead, walking up several steps to the open doorway as conversations spilled out into the streets. Andrasta followed, then Jahi.

  They stopped just inside the door as Rondel surveyed the place.

  The first thing Jahi noticed when entering the bar was not the rising volume in the voices of its patrons, but rather the wall of odor. Even with the door propped open to let in air from outside, alcohol-infused sweat, dried vomit, and the layering reek of stale urine made his stomach revolt.

  He opened his mouth to breathe, but then all the smells he sought to avoid tickled his tongue, and he nearly lost the contents of his stomach. He clamped his jaw shut and did his best to take slow shallow breaths as he followed Andrasta farther in.

  They maneuvered around rickety tables, sprawled out chairs, and passed out patrons lying in their own filth. Though The Twisted Crocodile didn’t look like much, it was obviously popular for some reason. Jahi could tell that the owner had added on to the place at least twice to cram in more seating. Based on the quality of craftsmanship in each addition, he didn’t doubt those who worked on the place did so while drunk on its offerings.

  He hated to be visiting during a rainstorm.

  A hand latched onto his wrist as he turned to the side when passing a table. He faced an ugly man with bushy eyebrows and a long pointy nose that hung over the hope of a mustache.

  The man leered. “You’re a pretty one. What’s the price?”

  “Price?”

  “Why bother paying, Usi? Just take the boy out back and let me know when it’s my turn.”

  Jahi’s eyes widened in understanding. Fear washed over him as the man stood.

  What’s the matter with me? I’m not helpless.

  A wisp of smoke formed in his hands.

  He was jerked back before he could finish the spell. Andrasta stood between Jahi and Usi.

  “What’s the matter with—” the man started to ask, his words cut off by a blurred fist crashing into his face.

  The man careened backward into his friend, jaw a crooked, bloody mess. They both hit the ground. Conversations in the tavern stopped, but only for a moment before life resumed.

  No one even cares.

  Andrasta snatched Jahi by the arm and dragged him to the back where Rondel stood behind a table with his hand on his sword. He eased it away and sat.

  “Gods, I can’t take you anywhere,” he said looking at Andrasta.

  “It was the boy.”

  “You didn’t even try to talk to them.”

  “Talk is your strategy.”

  Rondel shook his head and looked at Jahi. “You all right?”

  “Fine. They just took me off guard. I was ready to take care of them when Andrasta stepped in.”

  “I told you no sorcery unless you have to,” said Andrasta.

  “They were ready to use me outside. Can you think of a better time to cast a spell?”

  “I’m here. Call for me next time.”

  “Because a six foot tall, dark-skinned woman in full armor won’t raise people’s eyebrows?”

  “That’s enough,” said Rondel. “Two lessons. One, always pay attention to your surroundings. Especially in places like this. And two, maybe you should work on a more subtle spell that won’t draw attention like torching the place will. Make them go into an uncontrollable sneezing fit or something.”

  “Spells of the body are very difficult, and I haven’t studied those.”

  Rondel shrugged. “Something to shoot for. But you get the point.” His gaze drifted to the door. “There he is.”

  Jahi watched a shriveled old man enter. He w
as hunched so far over he barely stood four feet. He hobbled inside and took a seat at the first empty table.

  “Doesn’t look like much,” said Andrasta.

  “That’s the idea. Imenand was always a good actor.” He stood. “Both of you should probably come with me. However, don’t say a word. Imenand will likely ignore both of you completely.” He started to walk away, stopped, and quickly turned while looking at Andrasta. “Try not to kill anyone on the way over.”

  “I make no promises,” said the woman.

  Rondel shook his head.

  * * *

  Rondel came to a halt, clearing his throat at the foot of the table. The old man looked up. Rondel offered a smile and received a scowl in return.

  “There are other tables available. Go find one,” the man said in a shaky voice.

  “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

  The old man narrowed his eyes, studying Rondel. “I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else. Now, I’m expecting someone along shortly—”

  Rondel grabbed a chair and sat. Andrasta and Jahi also took seats though Imenand failed to acknowledge either.

  “Come now. You really can’t think this persona is going to fool me, do you? It’s an exact replica of the one you wore when performing The Hermit and Princess at King Josiah’s castle.” He paused. “What was that, ten years ago?”

  Imenand froze. He placed his hands in his lap, then leaned forward and squinted. “By the gods,” he whispered. “Rondel?”

  He nodded.

  “Everyone said that you were dead.”

  “As good as.”

  Imenand collected himself. “What happened?”

  “A long story. One I’ll have to tell another time. Let’s just say that I finally rested my head against the wrong woman’s pillow.”

  Imenand snorted. “I doubt having your head on a pillow is what got you in trouble.”

  “True enough.”

  The old man cocked his head to the side. “You’ve gotten much better with your disguises. I can see the resemblance now, but you definitely had me fooled. The scar under the beard and the raspy voice are a bit much though.”

  He frowned. “What you see is no disguise. As I said, it’s a long story, but the years have not been kind.” Rondel lifted his chin, exposing his neck. He revealed the left hand he had hidden under the table. “The man I offended was not very forgiving.”

  “That’s an understatement,” he grunted. “So, why are you here?”

  “I’m looking for someone. A girl, actually.”

  Imenand chuckled. “You haven’t changed. Who is it, the emperor’s daughter?”

  “Not quite. A king’s daughter actually.”

  “Well, I guess you have lost part of what made you so irresistible. Still, a king’s daughter is much better than most can manage.”

  “It’s not like that. The girl is only sixteen.”

  “So?”

  “And she’s the daughter of a friend.”

  “Never stopped you before.”

  “Well, it would now,” he said, hiding his embarrassment that there was some truth to those comments.

  The man leaned back. “Dendera, I assume?”

  “Still as quick as ever.”

  “It’s not very hard to deduce considering you’re traveling with her brother.”

  Jahi blinked, but remembered not to say anything.

  “Can you help?”

  “Not this time.” Imenand made a small circular motion on the table using his middle finger. The old man crossed his arms and coughed.

  “Too bad.” Rondel stood after sliding a few coins out of his money pouch under the table. “Well, we won’t waste anymore of your time then.”

  “No waste at all. It was good seeing you. Even if it was only for a moment.” Imenand turned in his chair. “Just out of curiosity, where are you traveling to?”

  “We came across some travelers just a few hours ago who said they saw a group similar to those we’re looking for heading south. I guess those we were following must have doubled back on us and we missed it.”

  “Well, hopefully they don’t head southeast.” Imenand wiped his brow. “The gods know how hot it can be this time of year, especially with so many people down there near Thonis for the festival of Bast. I never understood why so many people care about festivals. It seems so trivial when worshiping a deity. I guess it’s because of the chance for riches by those attending.”

  “The journey south is not easy either.”

  “No. In fact, I’d argue there are none more difficult. Be careful you don’t get yourself bloodied. You might want to take a spare mount or two to better your chance of survival.”

  Just great.

  “Good advice. Thank you, old-timer,” said Rondel. He patted Imenand on the shoulder, allowing a few coins to slip his hand and fall into the man’s hood.

  Rondel left the tavern, Andrasta and Jahi on his heels. He went to his horse and began to untie it.

  “What—”Andrasta opened her mouth, but Rondel cut her off with a shake of the head.

  Andrasta said nothing. Neither did Jahi as they climbed on their mounts and Rondel led them back onto Meir’s main road.

  Andrasta rode up beside him. Jahi did the same on the other side.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Well what?”

  “Why did you pay him?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You saw that? Very good.”

  “Answer the question. He gave us nothing.”

  “That’s what it will appear to most people. Just pointless chatter. But he told us everything we needed. He signaled me that people in the tavern were likely listening and he didn’t want to be endangered. Apparently, the cult has a large presence in Meir. We used an old code that entertainers use amongst themselves when they don’t want others to hear what they have to say about the nobles in the city they’re visiting.”

  “Explain.”

  “I suggested south when I meant north. That set things off. He said southeast which means we need to go northwest. He mentioned the weather. Said it was hot. That really meant it was going to be cold where they were taking Dendera. The mountains. The Talmis Range to be exact since his fingers came together and created a peak.”

  “So, he says the opposite of what he means?”

  “In some cases, but not all the time. He referenced the festival of Bast and a lot of people being there. What he was getting at was the mountain they chose in the Talmis range. Mount Sekhmet is the highest mountain there and Sekhmet is often associated with Bast in Iget’s religion. Based on his mention of the festival having a lot of people, I expect it to be the cult’s headquarters.”

  Andrasta swore. “How does he know all this?”

  Rondel shrugged. “I wish I knew. Back in our youth, he used to tell stories about his mother being a famous seer. Maybe there was truth to those stories and he shares a smiliar talent. Regardless, I’ve never known him to be wrong.”

  “What else did he say?” asked Jahi.

  “He said it wasn’t going to be an easy journey. I expect Mount Sekhmet will be heavily guarded.”

  “So, how do we get in?”

  “He also said the journey would be bloody. That’s the key. There must be a back entrance to the headquarters through The Blood Forest which borders the other side of the mountain.”

  Jahi paled.

  “Is there any good news?” asked Andrasta.

  “Well, he did say there were riches to be had. That one I’m not sure about, but it could mean that the money they stole from Horus is there. Or all the money the cult has ever stolen.”

  Andrasta grunted.

  Rondel smiled as he noted his partner’s satisfaction.

  “Anything else?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Rondel nodded ahead as five mounted men came down the road toward them. “He spoke of extra mounts in addition to our own. What he was really saying is that there were already people watching us. He just w
asn’t sure if the number was four or five. Now we know.”

  Andrasta drew her sword. “Good. I really want to kill something.” She looked to Jahi “Let’s see how much you’ve improved.”

  The woman kicked her mount into a gallop, screaming. Rondel followed as a rock zipped past his head and cracked the closest cultist in the temple. The man careened off his mount. A ball of flames flew between him and Andrasta next. It set another cultist on fire.

  The three survivors looked less confident as Andrasta reached them, engaging the two on the right. Swords clashed as Rondel took the last one on the left.

  Three quick moves and his man died. Gods, I’m getting better.

  Andrasta finished the last of the two she fought, saw his success and gave him what looked like a nod of approval.

  Jahi joined them. “Well? How’d I do?”

  Rondel looked at the two dead cultists Jahi took down, one bleeding from a hole in the head, the other smoldering.

  “I definitely see an improvement.”

  * * *

  “Hello,” Dendera said again while staring at the servant as he busily laid out their food. More than half a dozen did the work, but she chose to speak with the youngest one, a boy near Jahi’s age.

  Besides the many loaves of bread, the long table contained bowls of dates, plums, olives, and grapes along with salads of lettuce, beans, peas, and lentils. As usual, plates of cooked meat were brought in last. Even though no one ever touched the meat, they continued to supply it.

  Her stomach rolled when thinking about those plates.

  “My name is Dendera. I’ve noticed you doing such a good job and just wanted to tell you so.” The boy kept his head down without even the smallest acknowledgement of her efforts. “Would you like to sit and eat with me? I’d be more than willing to share . . .”

  The boy finished his work and hurried out the open door where two armed guards waited. He didn’t look back.

  A hand rested on her shoulder. “I told you to give it a rest. It won’t work,” said Oni.

  “How can I? How can you? We’ve got to find a way to escape.”

  Dendera hadn’t realized her voice was rising until she looked around and saw the eyes of everyone else on them. She bowed her head. “I apologize, Princess.”

  “It’s nothing. But remember, we tried already to escape.”