Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [165]
Zahakis warned the gang bosses, who left their haunts to man the barricades. While these preparations were under way, people began to shout and point. Those who had taken to the rooftops could see the flames of a signal fire blazing on one of the watchtowers.
Neighbor carried word to neighbor, pounding on doors and yelling underneath windows. Now the wails of children yanked from their warm beds blended with the sounds of pounding feet and shouted commands.
“If the ogres think they are going to be attacking a sleeping city,” Zahakis said to himself with a grim smile, “they are going to be in for a rude awakening.”
Far from the city, away from the commotion and the cries of children and the tramping of booted feet, the Temple of Aelon blazed with light. Warrior-priests and Temple guards had heard the calls of the Watchers and were reporting for duty, some of them struggling to put on their armor as they ran.
Priestesses, clutching their nightclothes around them, were being herded into the Temple where they were assured that Aelon would keep them safe. No one knew for certain what was going on. Terrible rumors flew about. But as terrible as the rumors were, they were not as terrible as the truth.
Raegar and Treia hastened toward the Shrine, where the warrior-priests and Temple guards were gathering. The place was in turmoil with men shouting orders and everyone running around in confusion. Raegar used his great height to see over the sea of heads in an effort to locate the Priest-General. Unable to find him, Raegar began to shove and bully his way through the crowd. He kept fast hold of Treia so that they would not be separated.
Guards stood before the doors leading to the inner offices. Raegar stated curtly that he had an urgent message for the Priest-General. The guard opened the door. Keeping a firm grip on Treia, Raegar entered. The guard shut the door behind them and they were suddenly engulfed in silence. The Watchers knelt before their bowls of fire and water, sending and receiving information. Sometimes one would rise to his feet and glide out, bearing news or asking for instruction.
The door to the office of the Priest-General stood open. He had called a hasty meeting with his officers and was just finishing.
“Get your men into position.” Xydis was giving final orders. “The protection of the Church grounds is our first priority.”
Catching sight of Raegar and Treia, Xydis motioned for them to come into his office and dismissed his officers. After that, a Watcher came with a message, which he delivered in a whisper. The Priest-General listened in silence, his brow furrowing. He looked at Raegar and frowned. The Watcher bowed and returned to his duties. Xydis shut the door and began to pace the room.
“This is a disaster!” he said. “We have been caught completely unprepared. I am summoned to the Palace. The Empress is furious.”
He fixed his piercing gaze on Raegar. “Tell me that I can bring her good news.”
“You can bring her the best, lord,” said Raegar, smiling expansively. “Her Imperial Majesty need have no fear for Sinaria. Aelon will save us. And the Vektan dragon.”
Xydis quit pacing. “You can summon it?”
“I can summon the dragon, Worshipful Sir,” said Treia. “I know the ritual.”
This was Treia’s moment of triumph. Her reward for the hard life she had endured, the sneers and slights and insults, the hardship and deprivation, the hours of kneeling on the wooden floor, shivering in the bitter cold, listening to Draya’s interminable praying to a goddess who had, in the end, forsaken her.
“The ritual must be performed in a large open area,” Treia continued.
“We were thinking the arena where they play the Para Dix would be suitable,” Raegar suggested.
“An ideal location,” said Xydis. “I will inform the Empress. She will want to be present.”
Treia was annoyed. The summoning was a religious ritual, meant to be performed with solemn ceremony. This was not a game, not a spectacle. She could see Raegar was