The Cult of Sutek (30 page)

The cultist stopped breathing.

“Crap.”

Rondel looked at the two bodies and realized that eventually people would begin looking for them. He walked toward the door, pausing for a second at one of the shelves. Clay containers already mixed with the chemicals inside the barrels rested within reach. He placed several of the containers in pouches on his clothes, hoping he wouldn’t have to use them. That hope didn’t stop him also grabbing a nearby sack and making sure he had gathered a few more of each size, signifying the strength of the compound within each clay container.

He peeked into the hallway, saw no one, and slipped out of the room, careful to latch the door behind him.

* * *

Jahi had thought himself clever by taking the servant’s clothes, but quickly realized the disguise made it nearly impossible for him to venture off on his own.

The moment he tried to search a tunnel, a cultist yanked him by his collar, and struck him across the face. “What are you doing away from your group?”

He sputtered. He hadn’t realized that servants only moved in groups. Jahi opened his mouth to speak, but an open hand struck him across the face. “You dare speak in my presence?”

Jahi ignored the sting across his check. The man struck him again and Jahi had to fight off his inclination to turn the man into a pillar of flame. He kept his eyes down to hide his anger, knowing the guard would take it as a sign of defiance to do otherwise.

The guard clicked his tongue and he threw Jahi down. “Get back to your group.”

Jahi scrambled to his feet, catching a glimpse of others dressed in tan, farther down the corridor. He hurried toward them, thankful that no one acknowledged his presence. If all servants were part of small groups, it would be obvious that he was not the boy he had stolen the clothes from. He drew his hood up, keeping his head down. He stared at the floor while cursing himself.

I’ll never find Dendera like this.

“Hold,” said a strong voice.

Jahi stopped behind the servant in front of him. He risked glancing up, eyes peeking over the edge of his hood. A cultist spoke with one of the servants.

“Bring warm water, scented oil, and fresh clothes to the virgins. High Priest Menetnashte wants to ensure they are deemed suitable in the eyes of Sutek tomorrow.”

The guard pivoted and left without waiting for a response. The servants began walking again at an increased pace.

Jahi took a slow breath, excited at his turn of luck, hopeful that Dendera would be among those held captive.

* * *

Many of the cultists marching in front of Andrasta peeled off into the maze of corridors. By the time they reached a set of large double doors, only five in her group remained, including the man who had been upset by her tardiness.

The captain stepped forward and knocked. A moment later she entered behind the others and took a place along the wall, as they did.

The High Priest of Sutek sat behind a solid desk, painted in dozens of grotesque scenes, some of which would make the cannibalism she had witnessed earlier seem innocent. She ignored Menetnashte for a moment, fascinated by the horrors in front of her. The colors used in depicting the scenes were dull, muted as if a hint of black had to be added to each. The only color that truly stood out was the dominant dark red used to represent blood.

Her gaze moved back to Menetnashte. He did not match Jahi’s description. He looked younger than Rondel, a contrast to his supposed seventy years of life.

Next to the high priest stood the huge figure she had seen near the altar. She was reminded of Duke Engren’s bodyguard, Fern. Fern and Nizam were close matches in size with the exception that Menetnashte’s bodyguard carried an additional twenty pounds of muscle.

All in the neck.

The bodyguard looked relaxed to the untrained eye, but she knew better. Even through his clothing, she could see him poised to move quickly—knees, ankles, and elbows slightly bent.

A part of her wanted to forget all about her current obligation, yank her sword free, and challenge the man in single combat, hoping a victory might wash away her failure at defeating Fern without help.

But then what? Even if they allow such a fight and I win, I won’t be allowed to escape.

She took in the rest of the room. Precious metal and jewels decorated the shelves, each shaped into some devilish mold she was sure related back to the sadistic cult. She fought an urge to snatch one. Just one would be enough to finance her mission to retrieve the Jewel of Bashan.

I could forget about Dendera, steal a horse, and be on my way to Bashan by morning with a pouch full of coin.
She also thought of Jahi and Rondel. Her urge retreated.
Why do they matter so much to me? Why should I care about them? Because they helped me a few times? So what? I’ve more than helped them.

She could hear her master’s sharp voice, the way he accentuated each word when talking to her, reprimanding every little thing she did wrong.
“As I told your father, he would have done better by marrying you off to some pig farmer. At least he would have gotten some meat for your dowry. Here, he has nothing. What does that tell you, Amani? You are nothing to him. Not even worth a few pigs. Why are you here? You are too pathetic to be a warrior!”

Andrasta blinked away her thoughts, noticing Nizam’s pure white eyes watching her closely. She cursed herself for being distracted.

Andrasta averted her eyes from Nizam so as not to draw any more attention to herself. As much as the riches tempted, her goal was still to find Dendera.

The bodyguard lost interest in her.

“Is everything ready, captain?” asked Menetnashte.

Haji stepped forward. “Yes. I had Dakarai round up servants to bathe and prepare the virgins for tomorrow’s ceremony.”

“Excellent.”

The captain cleared his throat. “High Priest, if I may be so bold, I wanted to say how much of an honor it has been to serve under you. Though you have not been with us long, you have led us to places my father told me were lost forever.”

Andrasta fought not to roll her eyes at the blatant attempt to flatter. She had known many people like Haji when she had trained under her master. She hated every one of them.

“Nothing is lost forever. Your father, like so many others, lost faith and became complacent. I simply provided the spark we’ve been seeking.” Menetnashte smiled knowingly.

“Even still, I cannot wait to fully bring back the old ways.”

Menetnashte walked around the table, studying the captain. “Yes. I can see that. A thought occurred to me. It was you who grabbed Horus’s daughter, was it not?”

“Yes, but only after following Thabit’s plan.”

“Thabit,” spat Menetnashte. “I had hope for him, but in the end he failed Sutek with carelessness. He should have left with you and Horus’s daughter. Grabbing Dendera right under her father’s nose was marvelous.”

“It was nothing. We simply did Sutek’s will.”

“Even still, it occurs to me that you might be just the sort of man I had hoped to find in Thabit. Come, I think Sutek would approve of you and your men selecting the virgins you will take in his name. Consider it a reward for your loyalty.”

The captain bowed low. “As Sutek wills, I obey.”

“Good.” He called over his shoulder. “Nizam. Door.”

The big bodyguard glided around the desk and opened the door. His eyes returned to Andrasta as they left the room.

* * *

Rondel walked casually down the tunnel like he belonged there, puffing his chest out and throwing his head back. As a performer, he never confined himself to only his music, dabbling in acting and dance as well. He had no doubt that he could find the right attitude of an arrogant warrior who demanded respect.

Gods, I practically live with one,
he quipped to himself.

The two guards outside of the closed door shifted their stance, eyeing him warily. His stomach knotted, but he managed to put on an air of authority.

Rondel came to a halt, temporarily distracted by singing from inside the door.

Focus.

He pretended to clear his throat, but in fact was closing off part of his nose and throat before he spoke in order to mask his accent. “Open the door.”

The guards exchanged a glance. The one on the left responded. “No one is allowed inside.”

“I was given orders from High Priest Menetnashte to make sure all was well.”

“Where are these orders?”

Rondel sighed. “He did not write them down. He wanted me here as soon as possible.”

The eyes of the guard narrowed. “Why?”

“You question the will of the high priest? Am I going to have to fetch someone to enforce Menetnashte’s commands?”

The two looked at each other again, hesitant.

“Nizam?” asked the guard.

Rondel recalled the name from discussions with Jahi. He nodded.

A bead of sweat ran down the man’s brow. He stepped aside and opened the door.

The loud singing grew in volume at first before fading to nothing as Rondel walked inside and the door closed behind him. He was unprepared for what he saw.

One hundred young and beautiful faces. Some held fear, though most carried a look of hatred or disgust. He scanned the room, trying to examine them all quickly. “I’m looking for Dendera.”

No one gave an answer.

“By the gods,” he whispered in frustration. He walked up to the nearest woman and grabbed her by the arm. “Where is Dendera? Quickly.”

The woman shied away under his grasp, yelping.

“Let her go, you piece of garbage,” came a voice. “I’m right here. What do you want?”

The women parted and Dendera came forward. Rondel lowered the cloth covering his face and smiled, surprised he actually managed to find the girl first.

She gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. We came to get you out.”

“You and Andrasta?”

“And your brother.”

Her face turned to one of horror. “You brought Jahi to this hell?”

“It was his idea.”

“What?”

“All right, a quick summary. Your father was hurt badly when you were kidnapped. They arrested us for it all. Jahi broke us out and hired us to find you.”

“But, he’s just a boy.”

“He’s shown us his talents.”

“Really? Well, where is he? And Andrasta?”

“I don’t know. We had to split up to find you.”

“You left him alone? What if he gets hurt? What if—”

Rondel raised a hand, cutting her off. This was not going as he had expected. He thought Dendera would be distraught and grateful to see him. “We really don’t have time for this. We’re supposed to meet back up at a point we came upon earlier.” He took her by the hand, mind already working a lie to tell the guards for why he was taking one of the women from the chamber. “C’mon. We need to get going before someone calls the bluff I made in order to see you.”

She jerked her hand away. “What about the others?”

“The others?” Rondel looked around once more at the young faces. The fear and anger had faded slightly with hope and excitement taking their place. “You can’t be serious? You know how hard it’s going to be just getting you out of here. There’s no way I can hope to sneak this many people out.”

Heads hung as their slight hope disappeared.

“I can’t just leave them. Princess Oni is here.”

“What?”

“Yes,” said another girl walking up from the back. “I’m here.”

“That’s why the Emperor has been acting so strange,” Dendera said. “Menetnashte has been using her as a bargaining tool.”

Rondel swore. Leading two women away, especially when both were well-known, important figures was going to make his task next to impossible.
But returning the Emperor’s daughter to Akor would sever any hesitancy Chuma might have for interceding on Horus’s behalf.

“All right. Her as well. But no more.”

“That’s not acceptable. You have no idea what they plan to do to—”

“I do. It’s awful. I know. But we’re here to save your life, not perform miracles. If we try to take everyone with us, we’ll all die.”

“But—”

Rondel was ready to cut Dendera off again, slapping some sense into her if needed, but another girl came forward. She looked older than the others, more confident.

“He’s right. You and Oni must leave without us. Your fathers have the power to stop this cult. Ours do not.”

“I don’t want you to give up, Nailah.”

“No one said we were. We still have a way to fight back,” she said, producing a slim sliver of rock that had been sharpened to a dangerous point.

Rondel started in surprise. “Where did you get that?”

“We made it,” Dendera said, as if that explained everything.

Nailah continued. “Like your friend said, the guards will be suspicious of you leaving. You will need a distraction.” She turned to Rondel. “We were planning to use these before the Heka as a way to fight back. Let us leave with you and we’ll all take separate paths and create as much chaos as we can so that no one even notices you leaving.”

Dendera spoke softly. “But that’s suicide.”

“It isn’t much different than our plan for the Heka. The only difference is that we have a greater purpose than simply ruining a ritual.”

Oni put a hand on Dendera’s arm. “She’s right.”

“I know, it’s just. . . .”

The door opened again and Rondel hurriedly covered his face. A line of tan-robed boys shuffled inside. Heads down, they carried buckets of water, fresh white robes, bottles of scented oil, and towels.

One of the guards from earlier peeked inside. Rondel acknowledged him with his best icy stare. The guard lingered a moment, then disappeared behind the closed door.

“Jahi!” Dendera’s hushed voice rang out.

One of the tan-robed figures had thrown back his hood. Jahi embraced his sister in a hug. They exchanged quiet words.

Talk about convenient. Maybe if I wait another minute Andrasta will peek inside with an army behind her so we can just walk out of this place.

Rondel stepped in. “I hate to break this up, but we really need to leave.”