Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [166]
She had given the god his sacrifice. Aylaen was dead. The Torgun were all dead.
“The first ships have been sighted sailing into the harbor,” Xydis said. “We must wait to summon the dragon until the entire fleet is assembled; the dragon can destroy every ship in the ogre fleet and wipe out the ogre army. A great victory for Aelon. A great victory.”
He rubbed his hands, then frowned at Raegar. “It is fortunate you brought me this good news, my friend, otherwise you would be in my bad graces.”
“What have I done to deserve your anger, Priest-General?” Raegar asked, startled.
“Legate Acronis is still alive. The attempt on his life failed. Several Temple guards were killed in the fight. He was warned by that kinsman of yours, Skylan.”
Raegar’s jaw sagged. “But . . . that’s impossible, Worshipful Sir. Skylan and the other Vindrasi were trapped in the catacombs by the lemures. I saw them myself. They could not have escaped—”
“And yet they did,” said Xydis testily. “This was the news the Watcher brought me when you arrived. Semelon reported that the barbarians threatened her life if she did not free his men from the lemures. At least”—Xydis turned graciously to Treia—“you will be glad to know your sister survived.”
“Aylaen . . . alive . . .” Treia stared at him wildly. She had to grasp the back of a chair to keep from collapsing.
Aylaen . . . alive! Treia saw Raegar and Xydis talking. They were speaking to her. Their mouths moved, but she had no idea what they were saying. Raegar seemed concerned. He took hold of her by the elbow and escorted her out the door, following Xydis. She realized in horror they were taking her to the treasure vault.
Taking her to the spiritbone of the Vektia and an angry, vengeful god.
Acronis and his escort rode up to the fane of the Spirit Priestesses at a gallop. They could hear within the fane the voices of women chanting the name of Aelon, calling upon him to protect them from their foes. Acronis dismounted his horse practically before the beast had stopped running and strode swiftly to the door. Two of his soldiers accompanied him. Keeper remained in the shadows, holding the horses.
Acronis pounded on the door.
“I am Legate Acronis,” he called impatiently. “Open this door!”
The chanting ceased suddenly. There was a brief wait and what sounded like voices hurriedly conferring, then a scraping noise as a bar was lifted. The door opened a crack. A young woman peered out. Seeing Acronis in his shining armor and purple cape, accompanied by two soldiers in their winged helms, she gave a sigh of relief and flung the door wide open.
“Legate, you are welcome. Please come inside.”
“This is not a social visit,” Acronis said. “The city is about to come under attack—”
“Yes,” said the priestess calmly. “We were warned. We have been praying to Aelon.”
“You are in danger here.” Acronis pushed his way past her and walked inside the fane. His two escorts accompanied him. “The other priestesses are gathering in the main Temple. You are to join them there.”
“We are not in danger,” said the priestess with a serene smile. “I told you. We are praying to Aelon. He will protect us.”
The other priestesses smiled and murmured their agreement. Acronis regarded the women with exasperation mingled with sorrow. The young priestess could not have been much older than Chloe.
“Ogres do not believe in Aelon,” said Acronis harshly. “What do you think will happen when ogre warriors find this temple filled with women? They will give praise to their gods. Do you know what ogres do to human females? They rape the young ones and take them captive back to their homeland. The older ones, they rape and then kill.”
The young priestess paled and cast an uncertain glance over her shoulder at one of the older women.