Flight to Opar

  The travelers passed through the marketplace, which stretched along the riverfront for half a mile. This was much like any other market-bazaar in the Empire except for the presence of so many Gokako. These hairy people—short, squat, thick-necked, massively chested, slant-browed—were once numerous, but were now found only in this valley, though it was said that wild ones were to be found elsewhere in the Southern Sea.

  On both sides of the gateway were spearmen. Each contingent numbered thirty: those on the left were the King's; the others, the Queen's.

  Klyhy did not check her pace but proceeded as if she were on open and honest business. Which, indeed, Hadon thought, she would be if Gamori could be trusted. The officers of the guards saluted her; she blessed them and went on. The party went past the outer wall, twenty feet thick, and came to the inner wall. This was equally high but was topped with alternating small round towers and pointed granite monoliths. The towers held sentries; the monoliths memorialized the heroes and heroines of Opar. There should be two set up in his honor, Hadon thought, since he had won both the Lesser and the Great Games. They would be further down the line, however, out of view.

  The inner gateway was also open, its ponderous bronze gates swung aside. They walked out onto the broad Avenue of the Deities-as-Birds. This was one hundred and fifty feet wide, much of it occupied by another market. Here many of the animals and birds on sale were to be sacrificed in the Temple of Kho across the street.

  Klyhy led them through the stalls, pens and sheds past the noisy beasts, birds and noisier merchants and customers. Her goal was the gigantic nonagonal doorway in the temple, a massive granite-blocked pile capped with a gargantuan onion-shaped dome, covered with sheets of gold. On both sides of the doorway were three rows of granite monoliths, twelve in a row. Each was twice as tall as Hadon, and each was carved at the upper end into the shape of a bird. The attributes of the birds, all modeled on real ones, had been exaggerated and distorted. The heads were larger or smaller than normal, the beaks more curved or even twisted, the eyes numbered from one to nine, the feathers were too long or too broad, the claws enormous or sometimes nonexistent.

  Though they seemed to have been carved by a demented person, they became intelligible after a close look. All represented birds turning into human beings, stages of various metamorphoses.

  Hadon had been nervous and sweating ever since they had left the boat. Now, only twenty feet away from the doorway to the temple, he began to breathe easier. His mouth was still dry, but he could drink from the fountain that jetted just within the entrance.

  And then he heard a call: "Hadon! Hadon!"

  He turned and saw an old friend, Sembes, a childhood playmate and competitor at the Lesser Games. He had been eliminated during the wrestling matches by Hadon, but he had not been angry. When Hadon left for Khokarsa, in fact, Sembes had given him a gift and his good wishes.

  But things might have changed now. Or Sembes might be under orders; he would be a good officer and do his duty, even if he was reluctant to obey.

  Hadon was forewarned by Sembes' uniform, which was that of a lieutenant of the guard of the Temple of Resu, the Flaming God.

  Sembes should have been smiling on seeing a friend who had been absent for years, but perhaps he was in a slight case of shock. Certainly his voice had been tight, as if he was under a great strain.

  Behind him was a squad, twelve spearmen. He strode toward Hadon, holding out his hand. His face seemed to break, then reform, then break again. His eyes looked narrow and bright and they shifted from Hadon to Klyhy to the rest of the party and back to Hadon.

  "Listen, Hadon! I just happened to be patrolling this area and behold! I see you! I thought you were in Khokarsa!"

  Behind Hadon, Lalila murmured, "Beware, Hadon! He is lying! He stinks of fear!"

  Klyhy had stopped. Now she hissed like a snake and said, "Lalila is right! Someone saw you at the dock, Hadon, and sped to the King! His spies are everywhere!"

  "Greetings, my old friend!" Hadon said. He eased the burden from his shoulder and put his hand within the blanket on its top. His fingers closed around the hilt of Karken, a piece of elephant ivory carved with ridges for better gripping.

  Sembes stopped and said, "What happened to your eye, Hadon?"

  Hadon said, "I have been resting it," and he ripped off the patch. To Klyhy, he said softly, "Get the others into the temple."

  Sembes put his hand on the hilt of his sword, a heavy weapon of expensive carbonized iron formed from welded strips. It had the same leaf shape as the enlisted men's but was about a foot longer.

  "So you know!" Sembes said, his eyebrows going up. "Well, I am indeed sorry, Hadon, but I have orders. You are under arrest for suspicion of treason!"

  Hadon waited a moment before replying. Lalila, holding Abeth's and Kohr's hands, hurried behind him toward the doorway. Sembes' eyes shifted to her for a minute, but evidently he had no instructions concerning her. Paga was rolling after her, scowling, his hand on the hilt of his short sword. Kebiwabes hesitated, then said, "Officer, I am a bard and so my person is sacred." He added, "Inviolate in the eyes of great Kho and of all humankind."

  "Stand aside then," Sembes said. Sweat rolled from him. He wiped it from his eyes with the back of his arm and then yanked his sword from its sheath. This was a signal for the soldiers to spread out into a semicircle, their spears leveled toward Hadon.

  Kebiwabes, behind Hadon now, whispered, "I just said that to gain time, Hadon. I will fight by your side."

  "Thanks," Hadon said in a low voice. "But get into the temple as quickly as you can. I don't want you in the way."

  The bard gasped, then muttered something insulting. Hadon had no time to explain. He pulled his tenu from the pack and stepped forward.

  At the same time Klyhy also advanced. She held up her staff and cried, "Hold! This man is under the protection of Phebha and hence mighty Kho Herself! He is the husband of a woman who has been smiled upon by Kho and who has been spoken for by Her Voice! Touch either and you will suffer the wrath of the Goddess!"

  Sembes sweated even more heavily. The spearmen were all pale.

  Hadon looked around. The screech and shout and chatter of the marketplace had died down. Most of the sellers and buyers were staring silently at them; the only noise was from the animals.

  Sembes said, "I have my orders, Priestess, and they come from the King, the highest priest of Resu himself. Unless they are countermanded by an agent of the King, or by the Queen in person, I must do my duty. You understand that, of course."

  "I understand that you are ignoring all I have told you!" she shouted. "Must I repeat it?"

  Hadon looked to his left again. Lalila and the children were now inside the temple. Paga was standing in the entrance, glaring at them. He seemed uncertain, as if he could not make up his mind to stay and protect Lalila or come back out to help Hadon.

  Hadon said, "Run as if Kopoethken herself were after your manhood, Kebiwabes! I can't hold them off any longer! Now go!"

  With a shout, he stepped forward once more, holding Karken's hilt with both hands, the right palm cupping its end, the left gripping it above the ball of the right hand. Sembes yelled and advanced, his right foot forward, his torso leaning out to form a straight line with his left leg. Hadon's blade knocked his to one side and the keen edge slid along Sembes' jugular vein. Hadon stepped back while Sembes, his neck spouting blood, fell. Sembes was not the swordsman Hadon was, but he was the victim of the system. Only numatenu used the long blunt-ended, slightly curved weapon. Though this was obviously superior to the shorter stabbing blade in individual combat, its use was forbidden to military and naval personnel all over the Empire—except in Mikawuru, but the pirates had no sense of decency. It was true that Sembes, even if he had been armed with a tenu, would have lost anyway, but it would not have been in such a short time, and his spearmen might have moved in to drive Hadon off.

  Now, before the spearmen could change their stance, lift their shafts to thro
w them, Hadon was off and away. The doorway was twenty paces away, and he was the swiftest runner in the Empire. Even so, he could not take the chance that spears might be flying before he reached the sanctuary. Within the last six feet he launched himself out, holding the tenu up with one hand, and slid on the pavement facedown. He burned his chest and knees and toes, but he shot inside the shadows of the chamber.

  Paga had thrown himself to one side just in time to keep from being knocked down. Three spears came close, one hitting the side of the doorway, one flying over Hadon and transfixing a porter, one bouncing off the cement and sliding along to come to rest beside Hadon.

  He was up and on his feet, bounding to one side. Though he was theoretically safe from further attack, he did not trust the spearmen to be cool enough to remember that.

  Hadon got to his feet again. Paga, who seemed to be nothing but a beard with feet tumbled in a corner, struggled up. The unlucky porter lay on his back, the shaft projecting from his chest; he coughed blood and kicked a few times before dying.

  Lalila and the two children were gone, supposedly into the next chamber.

  Klyhy entered then. It was evident that she was shocked.

  "You certainly did not try to talk your way out of that," she said. "I really expected to cow them, to get you in without bloodshed."

  "I have a feeling for such situations," he said. "Talk was only going to delay the inevitable. Besides, I know Sembes—knew him. He was a fine fellow, a stickler for proper procedure, for legality—and he was in the service of the King. He would have been put off only so long. The first step I took toward the temple would have been my last; I would have gotten his sword in my back. I had to surprise him and his men. Too bad too—I liked Sembes. But there's no time to grieve for him now. That will come later."

  If ever, he added mentally. Events had been going too fast lately for such things as sorrow or regret. And he felt the tempo would become even more demanding and swift in the near future.

  The chamber he was in had not changed any since he had last seen it—not surprising, since it had not changed a whit in five hundred years. Its floor was of concrete—not the original, of course—and its walls were of granite covered with a thick plaster. This had been painted with murals of scenes from the religion and history of Opar. Most of them were set in the jungle, depicted in poisonous greens and bloody reds. Here and there, between the murals, were the carved figures of men and beasts. Oblong tablets of gold were fixed to the walls between the murals. These bore hieroglyphs, relics of the days before the hero Awines' syllabary had been adopted. It was an ancient place, like all the chambers and holy places of the temple. Time seemed to brood somberly over it, radiating a thick gray aura through the chatter of the crowds that filled it night and day. Time sat heavily here, soaking the granite walls and the artifacts, and seemed to have paid rent for eternity. It was said that the temple would abide for ten thousand years, that mighty Kho Herself had promised this to the builder, the priestess Lupoeth. It was indeed the only building in Opar which had not fallen during the three great earthquakes, though extensive repair had been necessary.

  Hadon's reverie was brief. An uproar outside brought him back to the doorway. For a moment he could not determine what was happening. A mob was swirling just outside the entrance, screeching, yelling, crying. Then an opening in the wall of bodies revealed a spearman being beaten to death by the outraged crowd.

  It was all over in a few minutes as whistles shrilled up and down the street. The mob came to its senses, realized the King's men were coming and scattered. They left behind them twelve purplish and bloody corpses.

  25.

  Presently the street was emptied of civilians. Its only occupants were the beasts and birds abandoned by their frightened owners and about fifty soldiers. Hadon was glad to see an equal number of the Queen's soldiers arrive several minutes later. Otherwise, he would have felt compelled to retreat deep within the temple. Theoretically at least, he was safe a foot within the doorway, but he felt that in practice the overexcited King's men might violate the sanctuary. Now, faced by the Queen's men, they would not dare.

  Klyhy had sent a novitiate after the Queen. She had then administered the last rites over the unfortunate porter. That finished, she went outside. She was saluted by the commanders of both forces, whom she took aside to discuss the situation.

  While they were talking heatedly, Phebha appeared. She was a tall gaunt woman of about fifty. She had been beautiful as a young woman, her breasts full and upright, softly rounded in body, long-legged, her features striking despite a rather long nose. Now, wasting for some years with a fever of mysterious origin despite the prayers of her subjects, she was a hag. But she was still impressive and she could be frightening when she wished.

  She wore a leopardess-skin kilt secured to her waist by a short girdle of interlocked gold rings embossed with diamonds. Her long black hair was tied in a Psyche knot and confined with a cap made of many oval and circular gold pieces. From each side of it strings of oval gold coins dangled to her waist. Her arms and legs were covered with many massive, jewel-encrusted gold bands. A long jeweled dagger was stuck through a gold ring attached to her girdle, and in her right hand she held a long thin wand of oak in the end of which was set an enormous diamond.

  As she strode through the chamber, followed by a horde of priestesses, counselors and attendants, male and female, she greeted Hadon. Then she was in the street and loudly demanding to know what was happening.

  Hadon was about to follow her when he heard his name. He turned at the sound of the familiar voice and hastened to embrace his father. Kumin put his one good arm around the shoulders of his son and wept. When he had mastered himself, he said, "I am weeping not only because you have returned after a long absence, my son, I weep because your mother is dead!"

  "When?"

  "Three days ago, son. She went to bed complaining of pain in her lower abdomen. She woke me sometime before dawn saying she was in intense pain, though I could tell that by looking at her in candlelight. She should have wakened me long before, though I doubt it would have done much good. I went for a doctor, but before she could come your mother gave a great scream and a few minutes later she died in great agony."

  "The doctors performed an autopsy, since it was necessary to determine if she had died from poison or witchcraft or because great Kho had willed it. The doctors reported that some organ in her had been diseased for some time and had burst, loosing its poisons into her body."

  "Your brother and his family were called down from the hills—he began working as a mining engineer there after you left—and she was buried at noon of the next day."

  Hadon nodded. "I will sacrifice a fine cow over her grave," Hadon said, "when I get a chance." Then he wept with his father. Soon Lalila shook his shoulder and he looked up.

  "The pains have started," she said.

  Hadon rose, wiping his eyes. From outside came Phebha's strident voice. She was denouncing the King's men for having violated sanctuary, even though it was an accident. They had slain a temple porter, and Kho would not easily forgive that.

  The colonel of the King's men shouted that the soldiers who had done the deed were dead, that they had paid. Anyway, it was an accident, as she admitted, and therefore was no profanation. She replied that she was not used to being argued with, but sacrilege was done, accidental or intended. The colonel started to say something, but she cried that he should keep silent. Then brass trumpets blared and drums beat and people cried out. "The King! The King!"

  Hadon called to a middle-aged priestess at the back of the crowd inside the doorway. "Darbha!"

  She turned and said "Yes?" and then, recognizing him, smiled and cried, "Hadon!"

  "My wife Lalila is having labor pains," he said. "She should be taken to the Chamber of the Moon."

  Darbha had a difficult time tearing herself away from the events in the street. Hadon said loudly, "She is Lalila! Do you know of the prophecy about her child?"
>
  Darbha replied, "Yes, we know. We heard yesterday."

  She forced her way through the crowd and spoke to Klyhy, who was standing just outside the door. Klyhy reluctantly left her post but, when she observed Lalila, she went into action very quickly. She called three priestesses to her side and issued orders that they should take Lalila to the chamber prepared for her.

  Hadon kissed Lalila and said, "It will be all right."

  "I wish it would be!" she cried. "But I fear that something terrible is going to happen here, Hadon! Very soon!"

  "There is nothing you can do about it if it is so," he said. Coldness passed over his skin and dug into the back of his neck, but he acted as if her words were of no moment. "You must go with Klyhy. All will be well. We are in the temple now and, according to the oracle, our child will have a long and glorious life if she is born within these walls."

  Klyhy spoke to a fourth priestess. "At the first chance you get, speak to Phebha. Tell her that Lalila is here and will soon be giving birth."

  Klyhy and the others formed around Lalila and, while one began a slow chant, they hurried her off. Hadon turned back to the doorway. He would not be admitted into the Chamber of the Moon, so he could do nothing to comfort her.

  His father looked puzzled. Evidently the priestesses had not told him anything about the prophecy. Hadon started to explain, but a flourish of trumpets and drums interrupted him. He said, "Later, Father, when there is time," and made his way through the crowd to the doorway.

  The King had appeared with about a hundred more soldiers. He and his wife faced each other in the space between their two forces. They were almost nose to nose, in fact, shouting at each other. Gamori was a thickly built man, hawk-nosed, blue-jawed, hairy and dark, but with much gray in his black hair. His tresses fell below his shoulders, concealing the fact that he had long ago lost his right ear. It had been severed during the fight in which Kumin had lost his arm.