"On the other hand, if Dythbeth fell while you were in it, the loss would be grievous. We cannot get along without you, Your Majesty. If you died, the faithful would believe that Resu was stronger than Kho."
"I won't," Awineth said. She looked around the long oblong table. "Is there agreement on this, that I go to Dythbeth?"
The priestesses and officers shook their heads. It was the only thing to do, since she had obviously made up her mind.
She rose. "Very well, I'll leave soon. Just when I won't say now. I know that you are faithful, that you are closemouthed, but Minruth may have his spies here. I want to leave suddenly, in the dead of night, without fanfare. That way, I will be in Dythbeth before my father's spies can get word to him."
"In the meantime, General, we'll coordinate a detailed campaign. I like what you propose; I think it is the best plan."
The officers rose, bowed and withdrew. The twelve numatenu composing Awineth's day-shift bodyguard—among them Hadon—remained. Awineth, still seated, called him to her.
"It will take at least two months to get everything prepared before I go to Dythbeth," she said. "There is no hurry as far as Dythbeth is concerned, since it should be able to hold out for six months or more. My father has tried three times to storm its walls and each time has been repelled with heavy losses." Awineth smiled and said, "That means you have two months to be with your bride."
Hadon kept his face emotionless, though he felt angry.
"Then you are rejecting my petition to take her and the child and Paga along with us?"
"Yes. They will only be burdens. I'll be traveling in a small, fast ship; space is at a premium. Moreover, Dythbeth has enough useless mouths to feed. Besides, why should you want to take them away from here, where they are safe, to a place where they will be in grave danger?"
"My wife says she wants to be with me, wherever I am."
Awineth's smile showed that she knew he was furious and was enjoying it.
"I think you're both being selfish," she said. "Neither of you are considering the well-being of the Empire. I understand why you don't want to be parted, but this is war and we must all make sacrifices."
"It will be as the Queen wishes," Hadon said stonily.
"We may be gone for a year," she said. "Perhaps two years. Only Kho knows how long it will be before we are victorious. In the meantime, you should be happy knowing that Lalila is safe here. And"—she paused, still smiling—"your baby."
Hadon started. "What?"
"Yes. A messenger told me this morning that your wife is pregnant. Lalila went to the temple to determine if she was conceiving. She was immediately given the necessary ritual and was found to be with child."
Hadon had known about her condition, but he had not been aware that Lalila intended to be tested. This was done through means which only the priestesses knew, though he had heard that it involved the sacrifice of a hare.
"Suguqateth tells me that she had a dream two nights ago about the baby," Awineth said. "That is why she summoned Lalila to the temple this morning. Apparently, if her dream is not false, your child is destined for great things. But it will be necessary for Lalila to visit the oracle before we can learn details of her glorious future."
"Her?"
"Suguqateth dreamed of a female baby. Of course," Awineth continued, "the child may not be yours. My father raped her shortly before you rescued her, though I suppose it is unnecessary to remind you of that. And if she had been a few minutes late in slaying that outlaw chief, there might be even more doubt about the paternity."
Hadon mastered his desire to hit her in the face. He said, "There are not many in this land who can be sure who their father is. It does not matter."
"It is a good thing that Lalila had a child before she married you," Awineth said. "Otherwise she would have followed the ancient custom."
She referred to the holy prostitutes. All women, if they were unpregnant at the time of their first marriage, and had never delivered before, went to a temple to be a holy prostitute for a month. Conception as a result of this attendance was supposed to be of divine origin. Theoretically, a god inhabited the body of the fertilizing male during the intercourse. The god was held to be the father of the child. It was a great honor to the family.
Though the ancients had believed in this literally, it was known now that the male sperm was responsible for conception. But the millennia-old custom held, and the facts were ignored. The ministers of Kho claimed that this made no difference. The god still possessed the body of the man and hence the sperm was metaphysically his, though it was physically that of the human father.
The priests of Resu, the Flaming God, held that this was a false doctrine. If Minruth triumphed this custom was likely to be suppressed, the first step in making women subordinate to men. In fact Minruth had already repealed a number of customs and laws in the capital city regarding the equality—some said the superiority—of women. To do this, it had been necessary to execute a number of resisting women and men as an example.
The main resistance to this new order was in the rural districts. Farmers and fisherfolk were very conservative, stubborn in opposing change. They were especially hardheaded when it came to their religion. The city-dwellers were more flexible, though even they had vigorously opposed the King and the priests until a number of protesters had been publicly hanged.
"The oracle will speak for Kho tomorrow evening," Awineth said. "Suguqateth and I will be there. And so will you. The oracle has asked that you attend, which means that you, of course, will not refuse her invitation."
"I would like to be there," Hadon said.
He was pensive the rest of the day. As a result, he made a bad showing during the exercise with wooden swords in the afternoon. Despite his youth, he was the best swordsman in the Queen's bodyguard, which was composed of veterans of many years of experience. But he could not concentrate properly and so lost on points to men he had always bested before.
Awineth, watching the display, smiled each time he was beaten.
12.
The Temple of Kho was on a high hill to the north of the town. It was surrounded by giant oaks, some of which were said to be a thousand years old. The building was round and domed, composed of massive marble blocks transported through the mountain pass over eight hundred years ago. Hadon and Lalila passed through a nine-sided entrance into a chamber whose walls were decorated with murals. These were painted in cool blues and light reds and depicted stages in the creation of the world by Kho. A massive bronze tripod sat in the center; the bell-shaped bronze object on top of it emitted clouds of burning incense through holes in its sides.
Hadon glanced through a round doorway to his right and glimpsed the room of the divine whores. It was separated into small rooms by light wooden walls, painted scarlet and blue. In its center was a great round pillar around which the women waited. Several men were talking to them, among them Paga and Kebiwabes. The manling, happening to look his way, grinned and waved. He took the hand of a blonde who was almost twice as tall as he and led her toward a room.
The next room had a ceiling twice as high as the first. A nine-legged altar-stand squatted in its middle. The third held a twelve-legged stand; its ceiling was three times as high as the first. Here Awineth and the head priestess of the temple waited for them. Near them lounged the Queen's nighttime bodyguard.
Suguqateth beckoned them to follow her. The next chamber was the holiest, vast, oval-shaped. Its floor was paved with white tiles and a spiral of varicolored mosaics. The spiral began at the center of the floor and was composed of a line of twelve-sided pieces. On each was painted a tiny scene depicting a great historical event. The spiral went in tight curves, around and around, the outer part almost touching the walls on three sides. It ended just before the base on which stood the statue of Kho. Its termination was a still-unpainted square.
The blank piece bothered many people. Why were there not more pieces to be painted? What did this mean? Surely the histor
y of Khokarsa did not have only one more great event to be portrayed?
Hadon was curious and uneasy about that too, but he asked no questions; the priestesses never divulged such information.
The main object of attention in this chamber was a towering statue of Kho. This had a core of marble over which carved elephant ivory had been fitted. Her crown was of gold, each of its twelve points bearing silver shields inset with many large diamonds. Her eyes were painted solid blue. She was nude and held in her right hand a cornucopia stuffed with sheaves of millet. Her left hand held a sickle, an instrument used for reaping or, as among the original dwellers of this valley, also for war.
Except for the three women and Hadon, the great room was empty. They stood for a moment, making the ancient sign of obeisance, while silence settled around them. The torches placed high above their heads, ringing the room, guttered. Shadows danced along the wall and someone in white peered from around the base of the idol.
The chief priestess said, "We will take off our clothes. When one appears before the voice of Kho, one should be as when one is born."
They shed their garments, leaving them on the floor behind them. Suguqateth led them across the floor. The white-clad figure came from around the base, carrying a three-legged stool of oak. She set it down in front of the statue and removed her robe. She was a very old woman, white-haired and wrinkled. Her pupils were enormously dilated and her breath stank of something acrid.
Hadon noticed then that there was a hole in the floor just in front of the stool. As the old woman climbed onto the tall stool, smoke began to rise from the hole. It was bluish and thin at first, but as the hag, her eyes closed, began to chant, it became denser. It rose toward a hole hidden in the shadows of the domed ceiling, its tentacles swirling out, enveloping all. Hadon coughed as he breathed in a heavy, sweetish odor, one he had never smelled before.
The woman, swaying, chanted in the old ritual tongue. Hadon moved closer to Lalila; the priestess motioned him to return to his original place. She took Lalila's hand and led her to within three paces of the oracle priestess. Then she took three steps backward, stopping by Awineth.
The smoke continued to pour out. The shadows seemed to thicken, to ooze out from the base of the walls. Suddenly Hadon felt cold. The air, though it had been cool when he entered, was now freezing. He shivered and his teeth chattered. Awineth looked back at him with an annoyed expression. He clenched his teeth, but he could not keep from shaking.
Now the shadows were in fact advancing. They crept closer, at the same time building up toward the torches. Presently they were halfway toward the ceiling. They covered the torches with roiling veils, never extinguishing them but making them faint and faraway.
Suddenly he gasped and his heart, which had been beating hard before, began racing. The Goddess Kho had moved!
No, it was only his imagination. The statue was as still as stone; it had not stepped toward him.
He could not be sure. Things out of the corners of his eyes were distorted, lengthened. When he turned his head to look directly, they resumed the appearance of normality.
He leaped, uttering a strangled cry, as the sickle swooped over his head. It was a blur, casting a swift shadow, come and gone. But he had heard the hiss as it cut through the air.
Yet Kho had not moved.
Or had She? The blank azure eyes seemed to become liquid, as if alive. Tiny golden flashes swam through them, then lined up into three concentric circles. They began rotating, slowly at first, then more swiftly, whirling and whirling, then expanding into solid golden orbs, burning like stars.
His legs quivered and his belly contracted. His genitals drew up. The floor felt like ice to his feet; a cold wind was blowing down his back.
He fell to his knees, crying, "Great Kho! Spare me!"
The women paid no attention to him; their eyes were locked on the oracle.
She was screaming now, spittle flying from her mouth, her eyes wide, her scrawny arms stretched out to each side of her, then flapping as if she were a vulture.
Abruptly she pitched forward, landing with a thud on the floor.
The smoke thinned out; a moment later it was no longer rising from the floor. The shadows retreated and the cold evaporated. Hadon, shaking, got to his feet. The women had not yet moved, though the hag was obviously in need of attention. Blood was running from her nostrils and mouth.
Presently the chief priestess advanced and knelt down by the old woman. She felt her pulse and looked into an eye. Then she rose, saying loudly, "The oracle is dead! She was unable to bear the presence of the Goddess any longer!"
Awineth, pale beneath her dark pigment, turned wide, dark eyes toward Hadon. "Great Kho has indeed laid a heavy burden on your unborn daughter," she said. "A heavy burden, yet one that is glorious!"
Lalila turned then. She was almost blue-white; her eyes had gained dark rings in a few minutes. "What did she say?" she cried.
Suguqateth said, "Your child will become a great priestess! Or else she will have a short and terrible life! She will be the savior of a city and founder of a dynasty that will continue for twelve thousand years! Or she will die when young after the most miserable of existences!"
Awineth said, "It depends upon whether or not she is born in the city of your ancestors, Hadon. If she enters the world there, in Opar, then she is indeed blessed! But if she does not, then she will suffer greatly and go early to the dark house of dread Sisisken!"
Lalila gave a short, sharp cry and collapsed to her knees, weeping.
Hadon was too stunned to say a word. Besides, what use would it be to protest? Kho Herself had spoken.
Lalila raised her head, tears falling on her breasts.
"What else did she prophesy?"
"Much else. But we are forbidden to tell you or anyone else. Kho's secrets will be kept locked in the hearts of myself and the high priestess."
"Then," Hadon said slowly, "Lalila must go to Opar."
"That is up to the Witch-from-the-Sea," Suguqateth said. "No one can force her to go. But if she loves her child…"
"Will Hadon be allowed to go with me?" Lalila cried.
"No!" Awineth shouted. "He must stay here or wherever I go! He is my bodyguard, sworn to accompany me wherever I travel, sworn to fight for me until Minruth is dead and I am seated on the throne in the palace of Khokarsa!"
Hadon said nothing. Awineth smiled.
He was in utter despair and would have continued to be so had not a strange thing happened. Suguqateth, the head priestess, had nodded. And she had smiled encouragingly at him. She was secretly saying no to Awineth, though just what that negation implied he did not know.
13.
As usual, Paga was skeptical.
"The future cannot be foretold," he said. "If it can be, then it is as fixed as the past, which means that all to come is already here, in effect. It also means that you and I, everybody, all of us, have no choice in what we do. We just think we act freely. But in reality we are helpless to act otherwise than as the deities decree. We are like the puppets in those shows you have described, Hadon. Dolls pulled by strings."
"That is, we are if the future is indeed fixed. But I for one do not believe so. If I did, I would kill myself."
Hinokly said, "But you couldn't commit suicide unless the deities had willed that you should do so."
Paga's good eye flashed and the long graying hair on his face parted to reveal strong blocky teeth.
"A good point, scribe, and an unarguable one. So let us be practical and drop this useless speculation about prophesies and fixed futures. What do we intend to do? Or perhaps I should say, what do we think we intend to do? Whatever the truth, we act as if we have free will."
They were seated around a large round table of polished oak within a smoky wing of the largest tavern in town. Screens of pine, painted with scenes illustrating stories about Besbesbes, the bee-goddess, were set around the table giving them semi-privacy. The bellowing and laughter and shouting fr
om the tables around made it impossible for anyone to eavesdrop.
Within the circle of the screens were Hadon, Kebiwabes, Hinokly, Paga and Lalila. The child Abeth was home, guarded by a temple retainer sent by the head priestess, Suguqateth.
Lalila sipped at locally brewed sweet mead, then said, "It does not matter whether the prophecy is a true one or one which Awineth arranged. I for one believe that it was indeed the Goddess speaking. If the rest of you had been there, you would believe so too. Even Paga, who believes nothing unless he can see it—and sometimes not then—would have been convinced."
"But whatever the truth, it is evident that Awineth does not want me to stay here. She would like me to make the trip to Opar as soon as possible. Indeed, if I am to get there before the child is born, I should leave at once."
"That is a long enough and dangerous enough trip in the best of times," Hadon said. "Now…"
Lalila placed her hand on his. "I would not worry if you were my guide. But that is just it, you're not. Awineth is determined to keep you with her. I don't think it is because she hopes to take you as her lover once I am out of the way. She hates you too much for that. No, she is spiteful and wants to separate us. Her vow keeps her from harming us directly, but it does not stop her from indirect action. She can deny that she is hurting us in any way, is doing the contrary, in fact. Getting me out of the way, sending me to Opar, is for the sake of the unborn child."
"I will be with you and Abeth, wherever you go," the hairy manling said.
"Unless the Queen requires my services," Hinokly the scribe said, "I'll accompany you as far as Rebha, Lalila. I have a brother there who will take me in, and I can get work there. Rebha is probably the safest place in the Empire."