Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [62]
The Legate would not keep slaves in a compound from which they could easily escape without some means of controlling them. Skylan’s feeling was confirmed when he saw four strange-looking wagons pulled by horses come rolling to a stop at the compound.
The wagons looked like small dwellings on wheels. Constructed of wood, the walls and arched roofs protected the occupants against inclement weather. Side panels could be opened or closed, permitting the occupants to see out or remain private. A door at the end allowed entry. Raegar, accompanied by six priests and two soldiers, emerged from the carriages and walked toward them. Zahakis and twenty soldiers, armed with spears and swords, guarded them.
“Trouble coming,” Skylan warned his men.
Bjorn shook Erdmun awake. The rest were already on their feet. Wulfe started to run, but Skylan grabbed him.
“Too late. Raegar saw you. Go to Aylaen. She’ll take care of you.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Wulfe said.
“There’s going to be a fight,” said Skylan, and Wulfe ran over to Aylaen and ducked behind her. She gave him an uncertain smile that wasn’t much comfort.
Wary and suspicious, Skylan and the others watched Raegar approach. The two soldiers must have been warrior-priests, for they wore the same armor, marked with a serpent and sun, as did Raegar. The other six priests were dressed differently. They all had shaved heads, like Raegar’s, and the serpent tattoo. But they wore long, belted gowns that flowed from their shoulders. Golden bracelets wound like snakes around their bare arms.
“Their men dress like women,” said Sigurd with a snort.
“Their men are women,” said Bjorn, incredulous.
A closer look proved Bjorn was right. Skylan could now see the more delicate feminine bone structure of the faces of the six priestesses. As the women drew closer, Skylan saw to his astonishment that the bracelets on their arms were not bracelets. Living serpents twined around the bare arms of the women. The serpents twisted and coiled and flicked their tongues.
“This is bad magic,” said Wulfe. “Very bad magic.”
Skylan didn’t need the boy to tell him. He could feel the badness crawling around him, see it slithering toward him. He would have rather faced axe-wielding ogres.
He glanced at Zahakis, saw the man’s face was grim and stern. Whatever was about to happen, Zahakis didn’t like it.
Raegar came to a halt in front of the Torgun. He lifted his head and raised his arms to heaven. He was about to launch into a speech, when Aylaen called out, “Where is my sister?”
Raegar was annoyed at the interruption, but he managed a smile. “Treia is safe within the Temple enclave. You will see her shortly. I will take you there this night—”
“No, you won’t,” said Zahakis in flat tones. “The Legate wants her for the Para Dix. She is his slave. He was generous in giving you the other woman. Now get on with what you came here to do so that we can all go to our beds.”
Raegar flashed Zahakis an irate glance. He seemed about to make some argument, then thought better of it. Drawing himself up, he addressed the Torgun.
“Aelon has tried to bring you people into his blessed light, but you have refused. Aelon does not blame you. The god realizes that you are stubborn and rebellious children whose parents have long spoiled you. Aelon knows that, like spoiled children, you truly yearn for discipline and authority.”
“I truly yearn to kick you in the balls,” said Sigurd, and Skylan and the others laughed loudly.
Raegar did not grow angry, which Skylan took as a bad sign. He kept his eyes on the female priestesses with the serpents.
“I have brought with me those we call Spirit Priestesses. Their task is, among others, to help guide those stumbling in darkness to Aelon’s light. You men are stubborn. You stop your ears to my words. You