Hadon anchored the boat about a hundred yards offshore. A longboat paddled by four men put out from the beach toward the newly arrived craft. Hadon bargained with the owner and presently all were being ferried to shore. Here a customs officer started to question them, then stopped as he recognized Hadon.
"How did you get here all the way from Khokarsa!" he cried.
"Kho Herself, through Her Voice, ordered me to return to my native city," Hadon said. "It was to fulfill a prophecy and so, though the way was long and dangerous, we are here."
The officer did not ask him what the prophecy was. He would have been indiscreet to probe into matters involving the Goddess.
"If things had gone a little differently," the officer said, "you might have arrived just in time to fall into the hands of the pirates. They were having their own way, storming the fort and breaking into the central keep. Fortunately about three hundred men had been ordered from Opar to reinforce the port just in case something like this happened. We caught the Mikawuru from the rear, and the garrison sallied out and attacked them from the front. They fought their way out and got to their ships, but their casualties were very heavy. We captured forty, most of whom were wounded."
Hadon did not ask what would happen to the captives. He knew that their chiefs would be tortured to get information about plans for future attacks. Torture of pirate leaders was a custom, based on the principle that it exacted vengeance. After all possible information was obtained, the chiefs would be beheaded and the able rank and file sent off as slaves to the mines in the hills above Opar. The badly wounded, the crippled, would be beheaded.
"You are the latest to get here from Khokarsa," the officer said. "We are hungry for news."
Hadon tried to tell him that he knew very little outside of rumors. He had been too isolated and so could not say truthfully what had happened. This made no difference. The people wanted to hear everything, fact, surmise, rumor, obvious untruth. The party was hustled in through the gateway and to the temple, where Hadon saw the head priestess, Klyhy, for the first time in years. She was still as beautiful as the night he and she had lain together, the night before Hadon was to embark for the Great Games at the city of Khokarsa. She had put on some weight, and her large shapely breasts had sagged a little, but the great gray eyes, the thick dark eyebrows, the long narrow nose, the full lips, the rounded chin, these formed one of the most beautiful and sensual faces Hadon had ever seen.
She smiled at Hadon and rose from her diamond-encrusted chair. She wore a tall thin crown of gold set with nine emeralds on the scalloped edges, a rosary of emeralds and rubies and an ankle-length skirt of white cloth. Her belt was of gold links adorned with tiny rubies. Her bare breasts were painted in concentric circles, red, white and blue, the nipples forming the red centers. She held in her right hand a long staff of oak-wood, imported from Khokarsa. Its upper end held the carved representation of Kho as a steatopygic hippopotamus-headed woman.
"Thrice welcome, Hadon of Opar!" she cried. "He who should be Emperor by all rights but whom Kho decreed should not hold that rank! And thrice welcome, Lalila from beyond the Ringing Sea, the Witch-from-the-Sea! Welcome also to your daughter, of whom we have heard much, and to the unborn child, of whom much will be heard. Welcome also to the little man, though he claims to be an enemy of our sex, and to Kebiwabes, the bard who would be great!"
Hadon was not surprised at this greeting. The intelligence system of the priestesses was exceedingly good, and thus it was to be expected that Klyhy would have learned much about his party and his mission. There was probably very little he could tell her that was new, except for their adventures at Rebha and afterward.
Chairs were brought in by initiate priestesses and the party sat down. Abeth was taken off with the children of the temple. Food, mead and wine were offered and eagerly accepted. Klyhy questioned Hadon until, by the time he had eaten and drunk his fill, his tale was told. Silence fell for a while, broken only by belches from the guests, politely indicating that they found the food excellent.
Finally Klyhy said, "I have already sent a messenger to Opar to inform the Queen that you and Lalila are here. The messenger will reserve the news for the ear of the Queen alone. And I have also ordered Kaheli"—the customs officer who had talked to Hadon—"to tell no one that you are here."
Hadon, alarmed, said, "Why is that?"
"King Gamori has found out that you are—were—on the way here. He has many spies, not all of whom are priests of Resu. You see, Hadon, the schism which has rent the Empire in the Kemus is also working here. Gamori is a very ambitious man, like Minruth, and he too would like to elevate the Flaming God above the Great Mother—not for religious reasons but for ambition's sake. But we also have our spies and we know some of what passes between Gamori and the lesser priests of Resu. We know that Gamori loathes being subordinate to his wife. At the moment, indeed, Gamori and our high priestess, Queen Phebha, are no longer living together."
They have parted after years of an unhappy marriage, quarreling on policy and the relative status of king and queen, of man and woman. Gamori is now living in the Temple of Resu, and he has not bedded Phebha for a year. He only appears with her at state functions.
"Also, as you are well aware, Gamori has never liked your father, Kumin. This stems from that fight in the tunnels against the outlaws when the old king, Phebha's first husband, was killed. Before your father lost an arm in that battle, he had, according to Gamori, tried to kill him. Your father claims that it was an accident, that the poor light and the heat of combat caused him to mistake Gamori for an outlaw. This is reasonable. Why should Kumin try to kill one of his comrades? Gamori claimed that he and your father had quarreled bitterly about something—what doesn't matter now—and that Kumin was trying to slay him because of this."
"Whatever the truth, Gamori then married Phebha and became King and high priest, in a position to persecute your father. It was only Phebha's protection which kept your father from being charged with attempted murder."
"I know that too well," Hadon said. "My father had to take a job inside the Temple of Kho, from which he seldom ventured because of fear that Gamori's men would murder him. My father, once one of the greatest numatenu of the Empire, was reduced to sweeping the temple floors, for a living. Not that he was not grateful to Phebha for the work. If it hadn't been for her, we all would have starved to death. Gamori was very upset that I was one of the three youths to win the honor of representing Opar in the Great Games. He hates my whole family because of his old grudge against my father."
"Which is why Gamori must not know you are here," Klyhy said. "You see, there is another reason why Gamori would not want you to get to Opar alive or, once there, to take sanctuary in the Temple of Kho. Through his spies he has heard of Lalila, this Witch-from-the-Sea. He knows that great things are expected of her child. Rumors—unfounded of course, but still potent—rumors are that the child will be the sole ruler of Opar, that there will be no more kings here. This is ridiculous, but Gamori is frightened. Unreasoning beast that he is, he does not see that the child could be no possible danger to him; he will be dead before she attains her majority."
"On the other hand, the rumors may be correct in a sense."
"If Gamori attempts to harm her, he is liable to precipitate the very danger he fears. He will cause a confrontation which might have been avoided."
"What are we supposed to do?" Hadon said.
"You will stay here until nightfall. Then all of you will be escorted out of here, as inconspicuously as possible. You will be smuggled into Opar and thence to the Temple of Kho. Once inside the temple, you will be safe. Not even Gamori would dare violate its holiness."
"At one time I would have said that was a safe thing to bet on," Hadon said. "But Minruth has violated many of the temples, not to mention the priestesses. Nothing is safe from blasphemy or profanement nowadays."
"You may be right," Klyhy said. "But you can't stay here. According to the Voice of Kho, Lalil
a must bear her child in the temple. From her appearance, I would say that she has very little time to get there."
She picked up a little bronze gong from a recess in the arm of the chair and struck it with a tiny bronze hammer, the head of which was fashioned like a leopard's. At the third stroke a curtain at the far entrance parted. A boy of about four years of age was ushered into the chamber by a middle-aged priestess. He ran toward Klyhy crying, "Mommy! Mommy!"
She picked him up and kissed him, then turned smiling to Hadon.
"This is the fruit of our love, Hadon," she said. "He is our son, Kohr."
24.
It took three days to travel up the river from the sea to the cataract. Hadon's party was in a longboat paddled by ten strong soldiers. Klyhy rode in the lead boat with the little boy. Sometimes she asked Abeth to get into her boat so the two children could play together. And sometimes she had Hadon sit by her side in the prow so they could talk. Several times, Lalila sat with her.
Lalila had been as surprised at the presentation of Kohr as Hadon. She had not, however, been jealous, knowing there was no reason for her to be. Klyhy had no designs on Hadon, nor any desire to take him away from Lalila. She had merely taken Hadon as a lover for several nights, not using sterility herbs during that time. She had wanted a child by a man who might win the Great Games. Klyhy had had many lovers before Hadon and many since and would have many more still.
"A dream convinced me that Hadon should be the father," she told Lalila. "Bhukla, the ancient goddess of war before Resu usurped her functions, appeared to me. She said I should lie with Hadon and conceive by him. I didn't need any orders for the first act, though I was happy to have divine sanction. As for the second, I felt that it was time I had a child anyway."
"And now," Lalila said, "what about Kohr? Does he stay with you or go with Hadon?"
Klyhy looked astonished. Then she said, "Oh, yes, I forgot! You would not be familiar with all our customs. If I should decide to get married soon, Kohr would stay with me and my husband. I don't plan to do that so, at the age of five, he will go to live with his father half of the year. You will be his mother-substitute during that period. If I should die, then Kohr becomes Hadon's full-time child. And yours."
The evening of the fourth day, they camped at the foot of the great falls. Here were a number of other people, members of trading caravans from Opar on their way to the port. At the advice of Klyhy, Hadon stayed in his tent as much as possible. If he was recognized, one of the priests of Resu might turn around and hasten back to Opar with the news.
Hadon, sitting in the tent, saw at least ten people he had known well in Opar. Others he remembered as being citizens of that city. Since he had lived all his life in Opar until a few years ago, he was a familiar figure there. After all, Opar had a permanent population of only thirty thousand. Since he had won the Lesser Games, he was familiar to all.
His tent was not struck until after the caravans had left downriver, then the party proceeded up the road cut along the face of the cliff. At noon they had reached the top and from there walked over the jungle path until they reached a docking area. Here were longboats left by the travelers they had met below the falls. They took two of the smallest and the soldiers bent their backs again. It was hard work because they rowed against the current all the way. They took three days, passing along bush-covered banks, occasionally coming to muddy flats where crocodiles gaped and bellowed or slid oozily into the brown river. At night they camped at walled places, sitting by large fires, hearing the coughs of leopards. They all stank abominably, having smeared themselves with hog fat to deter the multitudes of mosquitoes.
Four times they passed fleets of longboats laden with goods, heading for the port. Hadon ducked down when this happened, hoping the wide-brimmed hat he wore would keep his face hidden.
"Now that the Strait of Keth is closed, where are the goods going?" Hadon asked Klyhy.
"There are still Kethna, Wentisuh and Sakawuru," she said. "Though the pirates of Mikawuru are on the rampage, commerce still goes on. Moreover, a new settlement has been founded south of the Kemuwopar. Kartenkloe. It's purely a mining community so far; there is much copper and some gold down there. But it is the gateway to the savannas beyond the mountains, where great herds of elephants roam. The ivory trade is expected to become enormous, and Kartenkloe will handle everything passing through. It is ruled by Opar, and so Opar will get most of the profits. Some of those goods you saw are headed for Kartenkloe."
Hadon looked at the boy. Kohr was certainly his son: he had the same curly red-bronze hair, the same high and narrow forehead, slightly swelling at the corners. His ears were small and close to his head and somewhat pointed at the tips. His eyebrows were thick, almost joined. His nose was straight and not overlong, though he was too young for development of a long nose. His upper lip was short, his lips were full but not thick, and his chin was clefted.
His legs were long in relation to his torso and his arms seemed very long. He would have his father's stride and reach.
His eyes, however, were his mother's, large and dark gray.
"A beautiful child," Klyhy said, catching Hadon's look. "I love him very much. But I fear I will not be his mother very long."
"What do you mean?" Hadon said. She was an exceptionally merry person, always smiling and laughing. But now she looked grave.
"Shortly before you came to the port, I had a dream. I was in a dark place deep under the ground, wandering through a tunnel of some sort. And something terrible was chasing me. It caught me. Then I woke up, trembling, crying."
"But you were not slain in the dream?"
"No. But I had a feeling of unavoidable doom."
She smiled and said, "Now that you are here to take care of him, I am not worried. As for what may happen to me, well, no one lives forever. And I am getting fat, my breasts are starting to sag; I look in the mirror and see a face that can still attract lovers but in another ten years will turn them away. I have lived a good life, much better than most people have. And if I should die at this moment, I would be unhappy only because my son would grieve for me."
"If everybody had your attitude," Hadon said, "this world might not be such a miserable place."
"There wouldn't be any wars," she said. "Or so many going mad."
When Hadon had made his trip downriver, it had taken four days to reach the cataracts and three to get to the port from the falls. Going against the current, it took four to get to the falls and five and a half to Opar. An hour after high noon, the longboats rounded a curve of the river. The stream, which had been a quarter of a mile wide, suddenly widened out to a lake a mile and a half across. To their right was a narrow strip of flatland beyond which the cliffs rose abruptly. Past the cliffs were towering peaks. On the left, a mile away, was Opar. Opar, city of fabulous treasures, gold and jewels, gold-sheeted towers, minarets and domes, high massive walls of granite. Opar, his native city.
Tears filled his eyes. He felt a hurt in his breast; a sob burst loose from him. Lalila, seeing him so moved, put her arm around his waist and pulled his face down to kiss his cheek.
The longboats remained in the center of the stream until they had put half a mile behind them. Then they headed at an angle to their former course toward the city. There was much traffic here, fishing boats, skiffs and longboats carrying the produce of farms along the western shore north of Opar. This valley was long and relatively narrow, extending for fifteen miles until it terminated in a great falls to the north.
The western shore was flatter and broader than the eastern, but then the foothills began and after them the mighty peaks, tall as those to the east.
A mile directly due east of the city was an islet, the only one in the lake. Trees ringed its circumference; its inner part was dominated by a white domed temple. The islet was tenanted by only three people, priestesses who served the shrine of Lupoeth. The islet was the first place the explorer-priestess Lupoeth had stepped in the valley. It was there that she had
met the first inhabitants of the valley, the primitive Gokako. And it was there that she had asked one what the name of the place was. And he, replying in his own language, had said "Opar," meaning, "I don't understand you." Lupoeth had named this valley Opar, mistakenly thinking that was its native name. Later, the settlement had also been named Opar.
The islet was also where the priestess had died at the advanced age of seventy. She had been deified, a temple erected to her. The Isle of Lupoeth, like that of the goddess Karneth, was taboo to males.
The boats glided through the paths of others and passed the wooden shacks and longhouses built outside the city walls. These extended for half a mile westward and a quarter of a mile inland. They were the homes of the Gokako slaves and freemen, and the human supervisors, foremen and soldiers who kept them in order. There were also large warehouses fronting on the wooden quays. Above the northern walls was a similar wooden city, but this housed the poorer classes, all freemen and human.
Hadon tied the strings of his hat under his jaw. The wind was blowing strongly today, and it would not do to have the hat sail off and reveal his hair and face. To further the concealment, he had tied a black patch over his left eye. His numatenu sword was wrapped in a blanket. He carried it over his shoulder along with a flat box of some trade goods. He was to trail behind Klyhy as if he were her servant.
The longboats tied up at a wooden quay belonging to the Temple of Kho. The priestess waited until they were ready to leave and then strode boldly along the street outside the wall. A soldier opened a parasol of bamboo and ran up to hold it over her; another beat a small drum; a third played a reed flute. Klyhy would have preferred to go quietly but, since many would recognize her, she thought it best to go in accustomed style. Otherwise people might have wondered why she was trying to be so unnoticeable.
The outer wall was fifty feet in height and composed of cyclopean granite blocks veined with pink quartz. Midway in the eastern wall was a gateway, wide enough for twenty men shoulder to shoulder to march through. The two gates were of massive bronze, ten feet thick, bearing scenes from Oparian history in high-relief. The gates had only been closed three times since being put up eight hundred years ago. They had been dashed to the ground three times, however, each time by an earthquake. The city itself had been rebuilt thrice and doubtless would be built many times again.