Mercedes Lackey - Sanctuary

“No one knew the dragons actually had been lost for days,” one of the priests put in. “It wasn’t until messengers came back from the battlefield with the report that we knew why no Jousters had returned from the battle.”

“And until then,” Haraket continued, “we actually thought your sea witches had found some way to make lightning strike them out of the air—or something. About half the riders came back afoot, though most of the ones that didn’t were not actually killed by their dragons or by falls. Or so I’m told. They generally managed to get their dragons to land, but it was the soldiers on the ground that got them.”

Kiron nodded. There was some relief in that. Not that he had any great love for most of the Tian Jousters, but—well, he wouldn’t wish the kind of terror and death (or the terrible life-in-death of a paralyzing injury) that came from plummeting out of a dragon’s saddle on anyone. Well, anyone except, perhaps, the Magi. . . .

“So, without dragons, and with no means to control captured dragonets, there was no need for the Courts of the Jousters,” Haraket said glumly. “It wasn’t long before orders came that took most of the servants and slaves away; only a few of the dragon boys, me, and a couple of slaves remained. The Jousters that survived generally went into the King’s army, and most of the dragon boys dispersed as did most of the servants. Baken decided he’d try either to pay one or more of the trappers to try to get an unfledged young dragonet right out of the nest, or else he’d get one himself, but right about the time I was going to attempt to persuade the Great King’s advisers that this was worth trying, the Great King—got new advisers.”

He looked over at Baket-ke-aput, who took up the thread of the story. The priest looked much better now; shaved and bathed, and with a proper headcloth and a bead collar that might have come from one of the ancient city treasure troves. That was Kaleth’s touch, Kiron had no doubt. Kaleth knew that to have respect, oft-times one had to look, as well as be, impressive. The man was dressed in a fashion that clearly marked him as a priest, yet he no longer had the distinctive look of a Tian priest about him. The priest’s eyes remained on Lord Khumun and Lord Ya-tiren as he spoke, but Kiron had the sense that he was very aware of everyone else whose face he could see in the torchlight. “The first we knew of these new advisers was when the Great King’s previous advisers were suddenly called up, thanked, and dismissed. Sent back to their estates, if you please! And in their place, as if conjured from air, there were strangers who remained with the Highest at all times, and that was when the trouble started.” He shook his head. “Small things, at first. The temple tribute was reduced; not by a great deal, but it was reduced in order to support these new advisers, who had no land, and seemingly no family. Then there were—accusations. People who objected to the presence of the advisers, or even voiced any questions about where they had come from and who they were, why the Great One had chosen them, were sent out to the provinces.”

“That was if they were of wealth or birth,” growled another priest. “If they were neither—they tended to disappear. And it wasn’t wise to ask after them either.”

Baket-ke-aput sighed. “Then—came the orders that certain young people in each temple should come to serve the Highest at the Palace. It took some while, though, and the god-touched were summoned from each temple separately, by name.” He paused a moment, rubbing the back of his right hand with his left. “Perhaps I should explain that in our land, those who are god-touched with special powers are spread about all of the Temples of the Gods, rather than being concentrated in a single temple as, so I understand, you Altans manage things—”

Baket-ke-aput cast an inquiring glance at Kaleth, who nodded. “We call them Winged Ones,” he said. “The priests are Winged, those who are not yet trained are Nestlings or Fledglings, and they all serve and are trained together in the Temple of the Twins. Well, except for the Healers, who have their own temple, in which all gods are honored, including those we Altans know not.”

“That,” said Heklatis briskly, “is because all Healers, whether they Heal by the knife, by the leaf, the flower, and the root, or by the touch of a hand, must learn every aspect of Healing, and all gods favor the Healer. It is so in Akkadia as well.”

“I suppose being scattered thinly through every temple in Mefis and outside it was the reason why it took these so-called Advisers so long to find our equivalent of Nestlings and Fledglings, which we call acolytes,” Baket-ke-aput said with a grimace. “And because they were spread about the temples, and the summons came, not all at once, but over days and weeks, it took us longer to realize that these so-called ‘advisers’ were making off with every child and adolescent that was god-touched.”

“Nothing like this had ever happened before?” Kaleth asked, in tones that suggested he knew that it hadn’t.

Baket-ke-aput shook his head. “Never. What need had the Great King of those who were untrained or half-trained? I know that I asked why they were being taken, and I was told that since there were no more Jousters, the untrained were going to be learning to act in concert, as the Altan sea witches could. This was meant to give Tia a weapon equal in magic to what Alta had. And since Haras priests do use magic—when they have it—in combat, I thought no more about it.”

Lord Ya-tiren pursed his lips. “Even though these were the youngest, and untrained, and not the experienced and trained?”

Baket-ke-aput closed his eyes, as if in pain. “To my shame and sorrow, if I thought at all, I was simply glad that the ones called were those whose untrained or half-trained abilities we could afford to do without. And to be honest, we didn’t, any of us, think that there was anything wrong. After all, these were the Great King’s advisers who had issued the orders! Why would they do anything to harm Tians, especially consecrated youngsters?”

“We soon found out differently,” said another priest, bitterly. “We did not see the young ones at all after a time. Some parents began to make diffident inquiries. Still, there was no sign of them, no rumors, and no one within the Palace would talk about where they had been taken.

“And then, one terrible dawn, the bodies began to turn up—thrown by night into Great Mother River!” Baket-ke-aput looked sick. “That was when we realized how wrong we were.”

“What?” Ari exclaimed, turning white.

“Bodies,” said Baket-ke-aput succinctly. “The bodies of the god-touched that we had allowed the minions of those advisers to take. Something in the Palace, or wherever those demons are working their evil magic, was killing them—the youngest and weakest first.”

Kiron felt sick. Kaleth only shook his head.

“This is what I feared,” he said quietly. “When I stopped being able to See what lay within Tian lands, I feared there were Magi there now, and that somehow they had wormed their way into the Tian King’s good graces.”

Another priest, considerably younger than Baket-ke-aput, who wore the amulet of Thet about his neck, leaned forward. “We should never have known, had they not been so greedy about draining so many of the children of their power until they died,” he said bitterly. “There were too many for the crocodiles to take them all, and so we found some of them. That was when I made to approach the Great King, and as soon as I was given audience, I knew that I should say nothing. Not only was there a shadow upon him, but he looked to be as he had been in the full flower of young manhood. And so did the three advisers.”