The Godling Chronicles: The Sword Of Truth Part 11

"Yes," said Kaylia "Though it's told differently among my people. In our tales, he's a hero."

"How could someone called the 'Demon King' be a hero?" asked Gewey.

Kaylia laughed and said, "We don't call him the 'Demon King,' we simply call him King Ratsterfel. In our stories, he stood up to the tyranny of the G.o.ds and tried to free the world."

"I wonder which story is true," Gewey said pensively.

"Perhaps neither," Kaylia replied. "It was long ago, and storytelling among my people is not what it was. Much of our history was lost with the fall of our Nations."

"That must be hard," said Gewey. "My people depend on their stories as a way to connect them to our ancestors. If we didn't have them, we'd be lost."

"You keep referring to the humans as 'your' people," she said.

"Yet they are not. Being raised human does not make you human.

If they found out what you are, do you think they would bow down and worship you, or would they run in fear and disgust? Though I admit the monks surprised me with their kindness and selflessness, I wonder how kind would they have been if they discovered what I am? What if they knew they had shared a meal with an elf? Do you think they would just ignore it and smile?"

"And what about your people?" interjected Lee, who had been listening from the front of the wagon. "They want to murder you just for traveling with humans. Are they any better?"

"You're right, half-man," Kaylia acknowledged. "The old hatreds run deep on both sides. I cannot claim differently. Perhaps on this journey we can find a way to change that."

"Wouldn't that be something," Millet added. "Now that would be an adventure I would be proud to be part of."

"I think you speak for us all, old friend," said Lee.

For the rest of the morning conversation between Kaylia and Lee was more civil than usual. They even exchanged a few stories while Gewey listened with a pleased grin.

It was just before noon when they reached the gates of Kaltinor. They expected the gates to be open during the day, but instead they were shut tight and protected by four members of the city guard. Millet pulled up and halted the wagon.

"What's your business?" the guard captain inquired. As the captain spoke with Millet, the other three guards moved to the back of the wagon and looked inside. Gewey and Kaylia bowed their heads and stayed quiet.

"We're just pilgrims pa.s.sing through," said Millet.

"Pilgrims, you say?" said the captain. "I'm sure you saw the monks camped back the way you came, and I'm sure they told you the temples will not receive you. We have no room here for a bunch of poor pilgrims. Best you move on."

"They did tell us," Millet affirmed. "All the same, we are just pa.s.sing through." He reached down and handed something to the guard captain.

The captain looked at it for a moment, then quickly put it in his pocket. "Your stay here can be no longer than three days. Any longer and you'll be arrested. Understand?"

Millet nodded. "Completely."

The captain ordered his men to open the gates. Millet glanced over at Lee and sighed with relief. There was a loud screech of metal on metal as the gates slowly swung open. Millet urged the horses forward and pa.s.sed through.

"We've managed to bribe our way through the gates with little problem," said Lee. "Let's see if our luck holds at the temple." He glanced back at Gewey. "If you want, you can walk beside the wagon. I know you've never seen a city before, and you won't see much of it from back there."Gewey smiled with excitement and leapt from the wagon.

The streets of Kaltinor were thirty feet wide and paved with smooth stones. Most of the buildings along the main avenue were two stories tall; the bottom floors held shops of all kinds, while the upper floors held residences where Gewey could see people eating and talking on small balconies. In just a few minutes, he had counted at least five taverns and three inns-a far cry from what he'd grown up with in Sharpstone. People of all kinds surrounded him; commoners, lords, monks, and merchants all moved about at a pace that astounded him. In the distance, towering above it all, stood a large manor of deep gray stone. At four stories high, it was by far the largest building Gewey had ever seen.

"What do you think, young master?" Millet asked. Gewey could barely hear him over the noise of the city.

"It's amazing," he said breathlessly. "I can't imagine what it would be like to live here."

"Like living in a hornets' nest," muttered Kaylia, who had jumped down beside Gewey. "It's unnatural."

"I agree," said Millet. "Over the years I've come to appreciate living in the country."

Lee laughed. "So I guess all that about hating the smell of horses and pigs, not to mention the constant complaining about not having proper shops and clothing was nothing but hogwash."

"Not hogwash, my lord," answered Millet. "I guess I've just changed more than I realized."

"We've both changed," said Lee, thoughtfully.

They wound their way west through the city's temple district and approached the Temple of Ayliazarah. The temple was made from red granite and bore elaborate carvings of the G.o.ddess along the outer wall. In the front, a stone staircase led upward to an arched entranceway, with two large oak doors. Statues of Ayliazarah, each holding a harp in one hand and the Moon in the other, stood on the either side of the door.

Millet stopped the wagon and they climbed down.

"Remember," Millet advised. "Speak only when spoken to, and say nothing of what Brother Salvo told us."

When they got to the door, Millet pounded it several times with his fist. It opened a few moments later, and there stood an old woman dressed in fine white linen robes embroidered with intricate interlacing gold patterns. Her head was covered in a thin gold silk scarf and she carried a long white ash walking stick.

"What's your business here?" the old woman asked.

"We're pilgrims on our way to the Temple of the Far Sky," replied Millet. "We thought we might stay the night and see the temple while we're here."

"You thought wrong," said the woman. "We have no room for vagabonds. Be gone." She started to close the door, but Millet's hand shot out and stopped her.

"We are not vagabonds," Millet said sternly. "As I said, we are pilgrims, and we demand entrance to the temple."

"You demand?" the woman scoffed. "You will leave now, or I will call the city guards."

"Who is it?" asked a woman's voice from within the temple.

"What do they want?"

"It's no one, Your Holiness," the old woman replied, turning her head inside the door. "Riff-raff, nothing more."

"Let them in," said the voice. "Let me see this 'riff-raff,' if you please."

The old woman glowered at Millet as she slowly opened the door.

Once inside, they saw a floor made from polished black marble that spanned an enormous room lined with gold columns. The walls were covered with tapestries and frescoes depicting the nine G.o.ds, and several immense gla.s.s chandeliers hung from the twenty-foot ceiling. In the center of the room stood a ten-foot statue of Ayliazarah exactly like those outside the door, but this one was made of solid gold. At the far end were two spiral staircases leading to the upper level.

Just inside the door stood a woman dressed in white satin robes.

She was holding a large, leather-bound book. She was younger than the woman who answered the door by at least twenty years, although her face looked careworn. Her light brown hair fell down her shoulders in tight curls ornamented with tiny white flowers. She smiled brightly at Millet and the rest as they entered.

"I don't know, Maybell," said the woman. "They look a bit scruffy, but I wouldn't say they're riff-raff." Her voice was cheerful and kindly.

"Thank you for allowing us entrance, Your Holiness," Millet said, bowing low.

The others bowed as well but said nothing. Millet introduced them using the same names he had given Brother Salvo.

"I'm Sister Salmitaya, High Priestess here in Kaltinor," she said.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"We are but simple pilgrims on our way to the Temple of the FarSky," Millet replied. "We seek lodging and a short respite from our travels."

"I tried to make them leave, Your Holiness," said Maybell. "But they wouldn't listen."

"Nonsense," laughed Salmitaya. "Times may be hard, but if these people managed to gain entry to the city, then who am I to turn them away? How did you get past the gate, by the way?"

"I'm ashamed to say, Your Holiness," said Millet. "We bribed our way in."

Salmitaya raised her eyebrows. "Is that so? It's interesting that mere pilgrims would have money enough for bribes."

"We have saved for many years to go on this pilgrimage," answered Millet. "This temple is among those we planned to visit along the way."

"I wish I had known," she said. "I could have saved you the cost of a bribe."

"Some pilgrims send word and money ahead," said Millet, understanding her meaning. "But I think that takes away from the lesson one is supposed to learn along the way. We have not, however, come empty handed. We intend to make all proper contributions before we depart."

Salmitaya laughed. "Please, Brother Milton. You don't need to bother. It's my pleasure to offer the hospitality of this temple. You may stay as long as you wish."

"Thank you, Your Holiness," said Millet, bowing low.

"Thank you, Brother," she replied, bowing in return. "Sometimes it's easy to forget that this is a place of worship and contemplation. In these dark times we have been all but driven to beg in the streets."

"It pains me to hear that," said Millet. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Sadly, there isn't," Salmitaya replied. "Our troubles go deeper than you can guess." Her eyes became sorrowful. "But this is not a conversation we should have here and now." She shook off her sadness, and her smile returned. "Maybell will see to your needs. I hope you will join me for supper later."

"We would be honored," said Millet. "All but Sister Kaymaya, that is. She has taken the vow of the Sacred Word."

"Then I will see to it that she is accommodated," said Salmitaya.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to attend to." She bowed her head.

Millet and the others bowed low and watched as the High Priestess hummed softly as she walked across the floor to the stairs.

"Do you wish for me to have someone see to your things?" asked Maybell, still glaring suspiciously.

"To the horses and wagon, yes," answered Millet. "But we'll see to our things."

"As you wish," she said. "I'll wait here." The four of them returned to the wagon and gathered their personal gear, leaving the provisions in the wagon. When they walked back inside, Maybell was tapping her foot impatiently, her arms crossed.

"If you please," said Maybell sourly. "Follow me."She led them to the far left corner of the large room where a large tapestry hung. As they approached, they saw that it covered an archway leading to the rear chambers. Maybell pulled back the tapestry and motioned for the group to enter. She then led them through a series of narrow hallways with evenly s.p.a.ced doors and floors made from polished wood. The walls were made of rough brick and bore no decoration.

"As you can see," said Maybell, "despite the beauty of the rest of the temple, we live a simple life."

"I haven't noticed any other novices or priestesses," Millet observed. "Are they all praying?"

"There are only a few of us," answered Maybell. "The rest have left."

"Why?" Millet asked. "In times like these, you would think this place would be filled with the faithful."

"It is," she said, shooting an angry glance back at Millet. "The faithful are what we have here."

Millet decided not to pursue the matter further.

"Here we are," said Maybell, opening one of the doors. "You three will stay here, and you," she said to Kaylia, "can follow me. We keep a private chamber ready for those who have taken the vow of the Sacred Word."

Maybell led Kaylia down the hall to a door with a six-inch circle carved in the center. Inside the circle were carved three smaller, interwoven rings.

"This is where you will stay," Maybell said as she opened the door. "Your vows will be respected while you remain within these walls, and I will have your meals and wash water brought to you." Kaylia nodded and entered the room.

"I'll tell your friends how to find you," Maybell said as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

The room was drab. The plain brick walls were unadorned, and a worn rug covered part of the floor. A bed and a small table were the only furnishings. Kaylia sat cross-legged on the rug and waited.

The room the others shared was just as bare. Bunk beds lined opposite walls, and a table and bench sat at the rear. They had just begun to unpack when there was a knock at the door. Millet opened it to find Maybell, still bearing a sour expression.

"A basin and hot water will be brought for you," she said curtly.

"Afterwards, you are to make yourself ready for supper with Her Holiness. If you do not have clean robes, they will be provided."

"Thank you," said Millet. "Clean robes would be appreciated."

"If you wish to see your companion, she is down the hall in the room bearing the symbol of the Sacred Word," said Maybell. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to attend to." She turned away and marched down the hall.

"I don't think she likes us very much," said Millet, closing the door.

"You can say that again," Gewey agreed. "I didn't think we were going to make it past the door. Lucky for us, the High Priestess was there."

Lee looked worried "Yes. Very lucky."

"I know that look, my lord," said Millet. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure," Lee replied. "Something's not right here."

"I agree," said Millet. "The temple shouldn't be this empty, regardless of how bad the times have become."

Lee nodded. "It's not just that. It's a feeling I got when you were talking to the High Priestess. Something doesn't fit. From what Brother Salvo told us, I expected a less hospitable welcome."

"Quite right, my lord," said Millet. "If there is something amiss, I'll wager we'll find out about it soon enough. In the meantime, I'd better check on Kaylia and explain the vow of the Sacred Word."

Lee smiled with amus.e.m.e.nt. "She's going to love it. Don't you think?"

"That's not nice, my lord," scolded Millet. "Besides, it's the only way I could think of to keep her isolated."