Delios
How long had he been awake? Suppressing a yawn, Delios watched his father’s straight back as the head priest reported the results of the latest reading.
“Anything on when they will move against us?” Memnostis asked.
“Nothing anax,” the head priest of Seidos’ cult said. “We only know what I just shared. The entrails clearly tell us of the presents of a great threat and their hostile intentions. The enemy has touched the water and all waters flow into Seidos’ domain.”
“I had the same divination when they burned our galley,” Delios whispered to his sister.
Delia didn’t reply.
The anax’s children stood dutifully behind their father, observing the ceremonies. So far, the priest had been focused on the Assanaten force, with few results.
“We have not learned anything I didn’t know already,” the anax said. His tone was calm. Memnostis didn’t need to raise his voice or make a threat. His reputation was enough.
The head priest swallowed. “We were able to confirm the reports.”
“I tended to believe the word of the sage,” Memnostis said.
“I think it is the power of the god Assan,” the head priestess of Rehala said, joining her colleague. “It is said that he is a jealous god, demanding the continuous warmongering of his people. Only a great power could shield the Assanaten army to that degree.”
“Yes”, the head priest of Seidos nodded eagerly, “they must have already set up shrines and made sacrifices. It is quite worrisome.”
The anax looked between the two priests. They were a strange pair. He was a short, plump man, a former merchant who had handed his ship to his son and joined the temple. Rumors had it that he drank most of the sacrificial wine himself.
The head priestess was the exact opposite. Tall, almost scrawny, she had served her goddess since her childhood. She met the anax’s eyes with the same severe expression she had for everybody.
Surprisingly, the two priests had a good working relationship. But then, as far as Delios knew there were no legends of Rehala and Seidos ever quarreling with each other. Most of Rehala’s wrath was reserved for her husband’s extramarital offspring.
“What else?” the anax said over his shoulder.
Caught off guard Delios quickly consulted his mental list. “Our guests, the sage Mar’Doug and his companion, the girl Atissa.”
“Why the girl?” the anax asked.
“She seems to be more than just a servant. Both sages are interested in her.” Delios could have said more but decided against it in the presents of the priests.
Memnostis turned back to the two cult leaders and nodded.
“Father,” Delia said, bowing slightly. All eyes turned to her.
She rarely spoke up in company without being addressed first, always playing the role of the dutiful daughter. “I think we should ask the priest to consult the gods about them separately.”
“Continue,” the anax said.
“When I met mistress Bel’Sara she requested that we share the divinations about the girl with her,” Delia said.
Memnostis turned back to the priests. “Do as my daughter says.”
The two priests exchanged a look. Delios’ explanation had not really provided any useful knowledge at all, but it was not their place to speak up.
“How about I do the sage and you do the girl,” the head priest of Seidos suggested, making his colleague arch an eyebrow. “I hear, the girl is from here and master Mar’Doug looks like he came from the north. He must have crossed the seas.”
And splitting the work might let you finish up sooner, Delios thought. He did not really hold it against the old man. They had been conducting their rituals for over two hours.
The priestess of Rehala considered his suggestion for a moment. “Very well. Let us see what the gods tell us.”
The two went back to work.
The head priest stepped up to the altar and called for another sacrifice. “Leave the bird and bring me a sheep. It is a sage we are asking about.” A moment later one of his subordinates pulled the screaming animal up to the alter.
“Damn it,” the head priest said. “The drug is wearing off. It is smelling the blood.” He started the ritual of sanctifying the sheep in the name of Seidos before cutting its throat with a quick practiced movement. His assistants hived the body on the altar where the head priest would remove the organs for reading.
While he stuck elbow-deep in the sheep’s belly, his colleague conducted a much simpler ritual. Murmuring long prayers to her goddess, the priestess threw hands full of grain into a brazier. When the smoke started to curl up, she opened her eyes to study it.
The anax watched them for a minute before turning around to his children.
“Tell me about them,” he said, looking at Delios.
Delios understood this to be a test as much as an exchange of information. Otherwise, he would have asked his sister to report first.
“Master Mar’Doug is polite at all times,” Delios said. “He asked for access to the library which I granted. During his visit, he was more interested in the workings of the administrative part, than in the guarded section. Elaiadoros told me that he offered to teach them about some kind of calculating device. Apparently, the scribes are very excited about the prospect.” He paused to give his father the opportunity to ask a question. When he did not, Delios continued. “It seems, master Mar’Doug is trying to build an amicable relationship with us. I think he wants something from us.”
The anax considered his words, scratching his beard. “Do you have an idea what that could be?”
Delios shook his head. “Not yet.”
Without giving his thoughts on Delios's report away, Memnostis turned to his daughter.
“Delios is correct,” Delia said without hesitation. “Master Mar’Doug wants a good relationship with us. I cannot say what he wants exactly, but he is studying us like a merchant who looks at a potential customer. Yet, whatever it is, it could have something to do with Atissa. He is very protective of her and did not want her to participate in the expedition over the mountains.”
“The girl from the Half Moon Valley?” the anax asked. “Mistress Bel’Sara is interested in her, too.” Very little that happened in the palace escaped the Memnostis’ attention.
“Mistress Bel’Sara believes that Atissa might be a prophesied champion of the gods,” Delia said. “That could be why master Mar’Doug is protecting her.”
“He teaches her a type of grappling and probably other things,” Delios said. “I offered him to train with our warriors and he accepted.”
“I heard that he teaches her fighting,” the anax said, looking questioningly at Delia. “A magi that is also a warrior?”
“According to Atissa”, Delia said, ”they killed two warriors without the use of magic. Warriors that escorted a magi. By her description almost certainly a priest of Assan.”
That got Memnostis' attention. “And the magi?”
“She said that they lured the two warriors away from the rest and killed them. Then master Mar’Doug faced the magi alone. They talked for a short while and the magi left with the rest of his men.”
“Just like that?” the anax asked.
Delia shook her head. “When they came face to face, a strong stench filled the air. Atissa described it as the smell of rotten meat. Master Mar’Doug barely reacted to it and started a conversation, but they spoke in the Assanaten tongue which Atissa doesn’t understand.”
“So, he is powerful,” the anax said.
Quite an understatement, Delios thought. Only the most powerful of magic manifested in the physical world. There were only very few humans in this world who could accomplish a feat that was usually limited to the gods. If it was true that master Mar’Doug had just shrugged off a curse that was strong enough to be smelled, it was understandable that even a servant of Assan might back down.
All along the Golden Road, the followers of Assan were famous for their single-minded devotion. It was said that three Assanaten magi had destroyed large parts of Saggab by incinerating himself and everything around him. The Assanaten had conquered a third of Saggab’s territory in the subsequent war.
Memnostis’ expression turned grim. “Two sages and a prophesized champion…if we’re not careful Riadnos will be swallowed up in the machinations of the gods. And we with it.”
As always, the city and holding on to the power was the only thing on the anax’s mind. Is that what it means to be a ruler? Delios thought. Holding on to your domain whatever happens? Maybe he had spent too much time reading the old texts in the library and listening to Bel’Sara’s teachings to feel satisfied with that. They told of a world so much larger than the city surrounded by water and mountains.
“Ugh!”
The muffled scream had come from the head priestess of Rehala. The woman was staring up into the smoke above the brazier, her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth moving rapidly, mumbling incomprehensible words.
Delios realized he was holding his breath. As the anax’s son, he had been to countless services, but he had never witnessed a priest receive a vision this strong.
He glanced at Delia. His sister was watching intently but he couldn’t see any signs of surprise. Had she expected this?
“Ahhh!” The priestess dropped to her knees. Her attendants were the first to react. After they helped her to her feet, she waved them away. The stern woman straightened herself and walked over to them. She looked exhausted but Delios couldn’t help but admire her dignity.
“Anax”, she said, her voice trembling slightly, “I have received an answer from the great goddess Rehala.”
“Yes,” Memnostis said. Anybody present was aware of the moment’s graveness.
The priestess raised her voice. “The girl Atissa is indeed a prophesized champion, destined to walk the path determined by the gods.” She paused. Silence spread.
“Which one?”
All eyes turned to Delios who only then realized that he had spoken his question out loud.
“I mean champions are usually dedicated to a specific god, right?” he asked. “In our current situation, it might be very important which god she follows.”
“Father”, Delia said quietly, “this might be why the Assanaten invested so much in their chase. They didn’t just want to stop the warning of their invasion from reaching us. They wanted Atissa.”
The anax nodded and turned his eyes back on the priestess. “So?”
The woman hesitated. “The girl has not dedicated herself yet. She still must make the choice and go through the appropriate rituals.”
Delios frowned. “Yes, but which god or goddess is she prophesized to follow?”
Again, the priestess hesitated. “The great goddess Rehala…she didn’t say.” She looked away, refusing to meet their eyes.
Another moment of awkward silence followed.
Memnostis cleared his throat. “Is there anything else the great goddess has revealed to us?”
“Rehala emphasized the importance of the moment and that there are great changes to come,” the priestess said. “But again, she did not go into specifics.”
Memnostis nodded. “I understand. Thank you for your service. You may rest now.”
Upon being dismissed the priestess bowed and returned to her disciples.
“So, it is confirmed,” Delios said. “The sages want to protect Atissa and guide her until she can fulfill her prophesied role.”
“But there are two of them,” Delia said, thoughtfully.
Delios observed his sister. There was very little that escaped Delias’ Gift. When she was unable to put what she saw in people into context, it would bother her for days. Mistress Bel’Sara had once said to her that seeing was a Gift, but understanding was a skill.
“What is it?” he asked.
Delia glanced up at him. “Mistress Bel’Sara does not behave like herself. Something has her deeply worried. She is studying the texts from our library, looking for answers. And master Mar’Doug…she is anxious about him.”
For a moment they stayed silent, letting Delia's words sink in. Then all three turned towards the altar.
The ocean god seemed to be less forthcoming than his sister. A second sheep’s carcass had joined the first while they had been distracted. Entrails were spread out all over the large stone's surface. Blood was running down on all sides.
The head priest's face was drenched in sweat. He stared down at his hands, holding the organs he had pulled from the sheep’s body. Shaking his head in visible confusion, he put them to the side and plunged his hands back into the sacrifice.
“It looks like a battlefield,” Delios murmured.
“You have never seen one”, his father said sharply. Then he paused before continuing in a milder tone. “But you are right.”
The anax waved to one of the assistants. The man swallowed and stepped behind the head priest and started to whisper into his ear. At first, it looked like the older man was not hearing his disciple at all, rummaging in the carcass. But after a moment he stopped. Letting out a sigh, his shoulders sacked. His blood-crusted arms came slowly out of the sheep’s body. He looked exhausted and disturbed at the same time.
One of the assistances offered him a basin to wash off the blood before it dried but the head priest ignored him.
“Burn the sacrifices and speak the prayers,” he said over his shoulder while walking over to his ruler.
“Head priest”, Memnostis said,” you look disturbed. But then again this is a night of disturbing news.”
The short man looked up to his anax. “…I have nothing.”
Silence.
“What do you mean?” Delios father asked, a slight edge in his voice.
The priest understood and quickly continued. “I sacrificed two sheep. Two! But there was nothing. The livers…there was nothing to read.” The man shook his head in disbelief. “I swear by Seidos, this has never happened to me before. I have never heard of something like this happening!” He threw his hands up. “Unclear readings, yes. Contradictory readings, sure. But nothing? Never!”
The anax raised his hand interrupting the priest’s flood of words.
“What does it mean?” Delios asked.
The head priest looked at him. “I don’t know.”
“Is there anything else you can try?” the anax asked.
The priest shook his head. “Like what?” He waved towards the alter. “I used sheep! Ok, maybe the first one was a bit older. A bit scrawny. But the second one was from the best stock!”
And the old cheapskate had not received disapproval, but silence, Delios thought. Their personalities varied greatly but the gods of the Helcenaean had never been a silent bunch.
Behind them the priest’s disciples placed the sheep in the brazier, accompanied by their half-loud prayers.
The anax let out a deep breath. “Priest, I thank you for your work. You may finish up. I will call for you tomorrow once I have considered all of this.”
The old man bowed and walked back to the alter, probably looking forward to his bed.
The anax turned around and walked through the hall in the direction of the living quarters of their family.
“Don’t you want to watch over the completion of the rituals, father?” Delia asked.
“The priests can do that,” Memnostis said, without looking back. “The gods have shared what they wanted to for tonight.”
The siblings followed their father down the corridor. Guards carrying torches walked in front and behind them. The flickering light illuminated the beautiful wall painting decorating the wall.
Delios decided to break the silence. “Starting tomorrow the first of our retainers and allies will arrive.”
“Mhm,” his father grumbled.
“We will have to decide what we are going to share with them.”
“We will tell them what they need to know,” Memnostis said. “The enemy is on the other side of the mountains and could cross any day. We need their warriors to man Rhiadnos’ walls. We need their ships to supply us when the Assanaten lay siege to the city.”
Delios didn’t comment. He understood that his father was first and foremost interested in the threat to his city. That was all he cared about.
“Mistress Bel’Sara asked me to tell her the results of the deviations,” Delia said.
“Find out what you can,” Memnostis said, giving his consent.
“Yes, father.”
Delios decided that he had to talk to his sister separately. While playing the dutiful daughter, Delia would not have mentioned the sage’s request if she had not been sure to get the anax’s consent. She was surely interested in Bel’Sara’s reaction. And so was he.
“Anax, Anax!”
The shouts made them all spin around.
A man came running down the dark corridor but he’d failed to carry a light with him so Delios could only make out his outline.
The guard stepped past them to block the man’s path, switching the torch to the left and putting the right on his short sword.
“Stop there!” he barked when the man was only twenty paces away.
The man complied, coming to a stumbling halt. “Anax, it is Chloemos!”
“Come closer. But slowly!” the guard said.
Chloemos came slowly forward, stepping into the light of the torch. It was one of the priests of Seidos that had assisted the head priest. The man’s eyes flickered from the guard’s sword to the anax. His face was red and glistening with sweat from running, but they couldn’t mistake the urgency in his eyes.
“Anax, a fire,” he said, pointing in the direction they had come from.
“Did the flames tell you something about the master Mar’Doug?” Memnostis asked.
The priest shook his head. “No, anax. The lower palace is burning.”
Delios
How long had he been awake? Suppressing a yawn, Delios watched his father’s straight back as the head priest reported the results of the latest reading.
“Anything on when they will move against us?” Memnostis asked.
“Nothing anax,” the head priest of Seidos’ cult said. “We only know what I just shared. The entrails clearly tell us of the presents of a great threat and their hostile intentions. The enemy has touched the water and all waters flow into Seidos’ domain.”
“I had the same divination when they burned our galley,” Delios whispered to his sister.
Delia didn’t reply.
The anax’s children stood dutifully behind their father, observing the ceremonies. So far, the priest had been focused on the Assanaten force, with few results.
“We have not learned anything I didn’t know already,” the anax said. His tone was calm. Memnostis didn’t need to raise his voice or make a threat. His reputation was enough.
The head priest swallowed. “We were able to confirm the reports.”
“I tended to believe the word of the sage,” Memnostis said.
“I think it is the power of the god Assan,” the head priestess of Rehala said, joining her colleague. “It is said that he is a jealous god, demanding the continuous warmongering of his people. Only a great power could shield the Assanaten army to that degree.”
“Yes”, the head priest of Seidos nodded eagerly, “they must have already set up shrines and made sacrifices. It is quite worrisome.”
The anax looked between the two priests. They were a strange pair. He was a short, plump man, a former merchant who had handed his ship to his son and joined the temple. Rumors had it that he drank most of the sacrificial wine himself.
The head priestess was the exact opposite. Tall, almost scrawny, she had served her goddess since her childhood. She met the anax’s eyes with the same severe expression she had for everybody.
Surprisingly, the two priests had a good working relationship. But then, as far as Delios knew there were no legends of Rehala and Seidos ever quarreling with each other. Most of Rehala’s wrath was reserved for her husband’s extramarital offspring.
“What else?” the anax said over his shoulder.
Caught off guard Delios quickly consulted his mental list. “Our guests, the sage Mar’Doug and his companion, the girl Atissa.”
“Why the girl?” the anax asked.
“She seems to be more than just a servant. Both sages are interested in her.” Delios could have said more but decided against it in the presents of the priests.
Memnostis turned back to the two cult leaders and nodded.
“Father,” Delia said, bowing slightly. All eyes turned to her.
She rarely spoke up in company without being addressed first, always playing the role of the dutiful daughter. “I think we should ask the priest to consult the gods about them separately.”
“Continue,” the anax said.
“When I met mistress Bel’Sara she requested that we share the divinations about the girl with her,” Delia said.
Memnostis turned back to the priests. “Do as my daughter says.”
The two priests exchanged a look. Delios’ explanation had not really provided any useful knowledge at all, but it was not their place to speak up.
“How about I do the sage and you do the girl,” the head priest of Seidos suggested, making his colleague arch an eyebrow. “I hear, the girl is from here and master Mar’Doug looks like he came from the north. He must have crossed the seas.”
And splitting the work might let you finish up sooner, Delios thought. He did not really hold it against the old man. They had been conducting their rituals for over two hours.
The priestess of Rehala considered his suggestion for a moment. “Very well. Let us see what the gods tell us.”
The two went back to work.
The head priest stepped up to the altar and called for another sacrifice. “Leave the bird and bring me a sheep. It is a sage we are asking about.” A moment later one of his subordinates pulled the screaming animal up to the alter.
“Damn it,” the head priest said. “The drug is wearing off. It is smelling the blood.” He started the ritual of sanctifying the sheep in the name of Seidos before cutting its throat with a quick practiced movement. His assistants hived the body on the altar where the head priest would remove the organs for reading.
While he stuck elbow-deep in the sheep’s belly, his colleague conducted a much simpler ritual. Murmuring long prayers to her goddess, the priestess threw hands full of grain into a brazier. When the smoke started to curl up, she opened her eyes to study it.
The anax watched them for a minute before turning around to his children.
“Tell me about them,” he said, looking at Delios.
Delios understood this to be a test as much as an exchange of information. Otherwise, he would have asked his sister to report first.
“Master Mar’Doug is polite at all times,” Delios said. “He asked for access to the library which I granted. During his visit, he was more interested in the workings of the administrative part, than in the guarded section. Elaiadoros told me that he offered to teach them about some kind of calculating device. Apparently, the scribes are very excited about the prospect.” He paused to give his father the opportunity to ask a question. When he did not, Delios continued. “It seems, master Mar’Doug is trying to build an amicable relationship with us. I think he wants something from us.”
The anax considered his words, scratching his beard. “Do you have an idea what that could be?”
Delios shook his head. “Not yet.”
Without giving his thoughts on Delios's report away, Memnostis turned to his daughter.
“Delios is correct,” Delia said without hesitation. “Master Mar’Doug wants a good relationship with us. I cannot say what he wants exactly, but he is studying us like a merchant who looks at a potential customer. Yet, whatever it is, it could have something to do with Atissa. He is very protective of her and did not want her to participate in the expedition over the mountains.”
“The girl from the Half Moon Valley?” the anax asked. “Mistress Bel’Sara is interested in her, too.” Very little that happened in the palace escaped the Memnostis’ attention.
“Mistress Bel’Sara believes that Atissa might be a prophesied champion of the gods,” Delia said. “That could be why master Mar’Doug is protecting her.”
“He teaches her a type of grappling and probably other things,” Delios said. “I offered him to train with our warriors and he accepted.”
“I heard that he teaches her fighting,” the anax said, looking questioningly at Delia. “A magi that is also a warrior?”
“According to Atissa”, Delia said, ”they killed two warriors without the use of magic. Warriors that escorted a magi. By her description almost certainly a priest of Assan.”
That got Memnostis' attention. “And the magi?”
“She said that they lured the two warriors away from the rest and killed them. Then master Mar’Doug faced the magi alone. They talked for a short while and the magi left with the rest of his men.”
“Just like that?” the anax asked.
Delia shook her head. “When they came face to face, a strong stench filled the air. Atissa described it as the smell of rotten meat. Master Mar’Doug barely reacted to it and started a conversation, but they spoke in the Assanaten tongue which Atissa doesn’t understand.”
“So, he is powerful,” the anax said.
Quite an understatement, Delios thought. Only the most powerful of magic manifested in the physical world. There were only very few humans in this world who could accomplish a feat that was usually limited to the gods. If it was true that master Mar’Doug had just shrugged off a curse that was strong enough to be smelled, it was understandable that even a servant of Assan might back down.
All along the Golden Road, the followers of Assan were famous for their single-minded devotion. It was said that three Assanaten magi had destroyed large parts of Saggab by incinerating himself and everything around him. The Assanaten had conquered a third of Saggab’s territory in the subsequent war.
Memnostis’ expression turned grim. “Two sages and a prophesized champion…if we’re not careful Riadnos will be swallowed up in the machinations of the gods. And we with it.”
As always, the city and holding on to the power was the only thing on the anax’s mind. Is that what it means to be a ruler? Delios thought. Holding on to your domain whatever happens? Maybe he had spent too much time reading the old texts in the library and listening to Bel’Sara’s teachings to feel satisfied with that. They told of a world so much larger than the city surrounded by water and mountains.
“Ugh!”
The muffled scream had come from the head priestess of Rehala. The woman was staring up into the smoke above the brazier, her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth moving rapidly, mumbling incomprehensible words.
Delios realized he was holding his breath. As the anax’s son, he had been to countless services, but he had never witnessed a priest receive a vision this strong.
He glanced at Delia. His sister was watching intently but he couldn’t see any signs of surprise. Had she expected this?
“Ahhh!” The priestess dropped to her knees. Her attendants were the first to react. After they helped her to her feet, she waved them away. The stern woman straightened herself and walked over to them. She looked exhausted but Delios couldn’t help but admire her dignity.
“Anax”, she said, her voice trembling slightly, “I have received an answer from the great goddess Rehala.”
“Yes,” Memnostis said. Anybody present was aware of the moment’s graveness.
The priestess raised her voice. “The girl Atissa is indeed a prophesized champion, destined to walk the path determined by the gods.” She paused. Silence spread.
“Which one?”
All eyes turned to Delios who only then realized that he had spoken his question out loud.
“I mean champions are usually dedicated to a specific god, right?” he asked. “In our current situation, it might be very important which god she follows.”
“Father”, Delia said quietly, “this might be why the Assanaten invested so much in their chase. They didn’t just want to stop the warning of their invasion from reaching us. They wanted Atissa.”
The anax nodded and turned his eyes back on the priestess. “So?”
The woman hesitated. “The girl has not dedicated herself yet. She still must make the choice and go through the appropriate rituals.”
Delios frowned. “Yes, but which god or goddess is she prophesized to follow?”
Again, the priestess hesitated. “The great goddess Rehala…she didn’t say.” She looked away, refusing to meet their eyes.
Another moment of awkward silence followed.
Memnostis cleared his throat. “Is there anything else the great goddess has revealed to us?”
“Rehala emphasized the importance of the moment and that there are great changes to come,” the priestess said. “But again, she did not go into specifics.”
Memnostis nodded. “I understand. Thank you for your service. You may rest now.”
Upon being dismissed the priestess bowed and returned to her disciples.
“So, it is confirmed,” Delios said. “The sages want to protect Atissa and guide her until she can fulfill her prophesied role.”
“But there are two of them,” Delia said, thoughtfully.
Delios observed his sister. There was very little that escaped Delias’ Gift. When she was unable to put what she saw in people into context, it would bother her for days. Mistress Bel’Sara had once said to her that seeing was a Gift, but understanding was a skill.
“What is it?” he asked.
Delia glanced up at him. “Mistress Bel’Sara does not behave like herself. Something has her deeply worried. She is studying the texts from our library, looking for answers. And master Mar’Doug…she is anxious about him.”
For a moment they stayed silent, letting Delia's words sink in. Then all three turned towards the altar.
The ocean god seemed to be less forthcoming than his sister. A second sheep’s carcass had joined the first while they had been distracted. Entrails were spread out all over the large stone's surface. Blood was running down on all sides.
The head priest's face was drenched in sweat. He stared down at his hands, holding the organs he had pulled from the sheep’s body. Shaking his head in visible confusion, he put them to the side and plunged his hands back into the sacrifice.
“It looks like a battlefield,” Delios murmured.
“You have never seen one”, his father said sharply. Then he paused before continuing in a milder tone. “But you are right.”
The anax waved to one of the assistants. The man swallowed and stepped behind the head priest and started to whisper into his ear. At first, it looked like the older man was not hearing his disciple at all, rummaging in the carcass. But after a moment he stopped. Letting out a sigh, his shoulders sacked. His blood-crusted arms came slowly out of the sheep’s body. He looked exhausted and disturbed at the same time.
One of the assistances offered him a basin to wash off the blood before it dried but the head priest ignored him.
“Burn the sacrifices and speak the prayers,” he said over his shoulder while walking over to his ruler.
“Head priest”, Memnostis said,” you look disturbed. But then again this is a night of disturbing news.”
The short man looked up to his anax. “…I have nothing.”
Silence.
“What do you mean?” Delios father asked, a slight edge in his voice.
The priest understood and quickly continued. “I sacrificed two sheep. Two! But there was nothing. The livers…there was nothing to read.” The man shook his head in disbelief. “I swear by Seidos, this has never happened to me before. I have never heard of something like this happening!” He threw his hands up. “Unclear readings, yes. Contradictory readings, sure. But nothing? Never!”
The anax raised his hand interrupting the priest’s flood of words.
“What does it mean?” Delios asked.
The head priest looked at him. “I don’t know.”
“Is there anything else you can try?” the anax asked.
The priest shook his head. “Like what?” He waved towards the alter. “I used sheep! Ok, maybe the first one was a bit older. A bit scrawny. But the second one was from the best stock!”
And the old cheapskate had not received disapproval, but silence, Delios thought. Their personalities varied greatly but the gods of the Helcenaean had never been a silent bunch.
Behind them the priest’s disciples placed the sheep in the brazier, accompanied by their half-loud prayers.
The anax let out a deep breath. “Priest, I thank you for your work. You may finish up. I will call for you tomorrow once I have considered all of this.”
The old man bowed and walked back to the alter, probably looking forward to his bed.
The anax turned around and walked through the hall in the direction of the living quarters of their family.
“Don’t you want to watch over the completion of the rituals, father?” Delia asked.
“The priests can do that,” Memnostis said, without looking back. “The gods have shared what they wanted to for tonight.”
The siblings followed their father down the corridor. Guards carrying torches walked in front and behind them. The flickering light illuminated the beautiful wall painting decorating the wall.
Delios decided to break the silence. “Starting tomorrow the first of our retainers and allies will arrive.”
“Mhm,” his father grumbled.
“We will have to decide what we are going to share with them.”
“We will tell them what they need to know,” Memnostis said. “The enemy is on the other side of the mountains and could cross any day. We need their warriors to man Rhiadnos’ walls. We need their ships to supply us when the Assanaten lay siege to the city.”
Delios didn’t comment. He understood that his father was first and foremost interested in the threat to his city. That was all he cared about.
“Mistress Bel’Sara asked me to tell her the results of the deviations,” Delia said.
“Find out what you can,” Memnostis said, giving his consent.
“Yes, father.”
Delios decided that he had to talk to his sister separately. While playing the dutiful daughter, Delia would not have mentioned the sage’s request if she had not been sure to get the anax’s consent. She was surely interested in Bel’Sara’s reaction. And so was he.
“Anax, Anax!”
The shouts made them all spin around.
A man came running down the dark corridor but he’d failed to carry a light with him so Delios could only make out his outline.
The guard stepped past them to block the man’s path, switching the torch to the left and putting the right on his short sword.
“Stop there!” he barked when the man was only twenty paces away.
The man complied, coming to a stumbling halt. “Anax, it is Chloemos!”
“Come closer. But slowly!” the guard said.
Chloemos came slowly forward, stepping into the light of the torch. It was one of the priests of Seidos that had assisted the head priest. The man’s eyes flickered from the guard’s sword to the anax. His face was red and glistening with sweat from running, but they couldn’t mistake the urgency in his eyes.
“Anax, a fire,” he said, pointing in the direction they had come from.
“Did the flames tell you something about the master Mar’Doug?” Memnostis asked.
The priest shook his head. “No, anax. The lower palace is burning.”
