Tivi's Dagger (11 page)

“
Surely Brin knows this,” I said. “Why
does it surprise you that he wishes to visit it?”

Kari shifted on the creaking floorboards and
linked his little finger around mine under the blanket. “There are
thirteen statues, yes, but fifteen plinths. Two are empty, their
statues long since destroyed. To name them in Lis would cost you
your life, I imagine.”

“
I’d always wondered about the
inauspicious number of gods!” Kel exclaimed, then dropped his voice
to an excited whisper. “How may we learn the names of the
others?”

Kari rolled onto his back and closed his
eyes. “They are all around you. Mata and Tivi were once part of the
pantheon, and worshipped widely across Old Methar when the King’s
rule spanned all the known lands. Some time before the first
Splintering an old King was crowned named Methidi, who was by all
historical accounts a miserable sort, prone to prostrating himself
all day at the feet of Talmar the Death Bringer in the hope that He
would sweep up all the sinners of the land into the Ashen Plane so
the world could be reborn. Methidi had great support among certain
sections of the populace, for the cracks that would lead to the
first Splintering were already beginning to show, and many believed
that only a purge of sinners would save them from war. It was
Methidi’s devotion to Talmar that led him to rip the book of
Matativi from the book the Protectors now call their Bible, and his
monks began to destroy their shrines and statues all over the land,
punishing their worshippers with nicks from their poisoned daggers,
and leaving wretched, twisted corpses hanging from the boughs as a
warning. It was well heeded for quite some time.”

“
But why?” I mumbled through the fog
of impending sleep, interested despite myself. “It’s not logical.
Surely Matativi and Talmar would be the most logical Gods to favor
as all are touched by love and death. More so than Ygwar or Rithmas
for instance — Order and Duty represented by the dullest of deities
with books so full of abstract discussions and commandments on the
minutiae of daily existence that they…”
Serve better as arse-wipe paper
, I was about to
say. “Er…can’t be understood by most people.”

“
You may have a career in the silver
yet, Ned,” Kari chuckled. “Whatever was in King Methidi’s mind has
long disappeared into the mists of history. It’s said he lost his
betrothed as a young man and never took another lover, which may
explain his actions somewhat. Many who have felt the agonies of
Tivi’s dagger would wish it destroyed, but only the pains of kings
may shape the world.”

“
So are the Thirteen favored at all in
this land?” Kel asked. “You said before that those in the silver
have tried to maintain the shrine at Thar Mati. Yet so far I have
seen no other shrines to any other Gods.”

“
The little I have read about modern
practices in Lis would indicate that people may favor one above the
others and yet still believe in all, because balance through
Serenity is what’s sought,” Kari said. “As the ages have passed in
Methar and our religions diverged, tales of the Thirteen have
become children’s stories rather than scripture. Nowadays, there
are even those who have come to believe that the Thirteen are
merely aspects of Matativi herself. But it’s solely an intellectual
debate. No one is reaching for the poison over it.”

Kel sighed. “So interesting! Balance and
Serenity are certainly what the Protectors have ever tried to teach
the people. And now it seems they’ve given up teaching and seek to
enforce them, more’s the pity.”

Kari let out a sudden yawn and shifted
against me under the blanket. I returned from the imaginary world
of Old Methar to the smelly rug beneath me with a pang of
disappointment. In my mind, the wild and snow-peaked land lay at
seat of the Gods, and King Methidi was a wizened old man with a
white beard to his knees and a gnarled stick for support. Perhaps
he lived to defy his station and lived in a spartan room with a
dusty floor. Thar Mati was a mountain temple which lay among the
highest peaks, and when the Gods blew gently the clouds would part
and they would see all of Creation at their feet. It was a building
of smooth marble walls and deep green pools, and the boughs of
overhanging trees would be weighted down with sweet, ripe fruit.
Another few moments of listening to Kari’s voice and I would have
been transported there in my dreams, a much more desirable location
than the hard floor and musty stench of the Keeper’s hut.

Kari’s voice became a mumble. “With
regards to your translations, I should point out that in our
language, as in old Lishmenthar, the word
lamatiya
means both poison
and
salve. Knowing that may help you to
understand our hearts a little more.”

“
Fascinating! Truly enlightening,” Kel
murmured, and I could almost hear his mind mulling over theological
issues in the dark. “You have refocused my mind, Kari! Tomorrow I
shall continue my study, reinvigorated. To the dawn!”

“
To the dawn,” I murmured, and closed
my eyes.

Chapter 3

The next morning was truly glorious.
Shafts of sunlight shone in through the smeary windows and I
watched the dust swirl and eddy through them with sleep-stuck eyes.
Yawning, I stretched the stiffness from my limbs and observed that
I was the last to waken. Kel sat at the table, scribbling furiously
onto a sheet of parchment, with the book of Matativi open before
him. His lips moved as his mind worked. “Fascinating…oh
yes…maybe
wonder
, rather
than
think
…oh
yes!”

Kari was by the fire, stirring a pot and
humming. There was a delicious smoky smell coming from within, and
the crackling of the fire cheered my heart. He turned to me and
smiled. “Good morning, Ned. You’re just in time for some eggs.”

“
You seem happy,” I said, sitting by
the table and rubbing my eyes.

“
That I am. I have discovered a supply
of fresh and smoked lake trout in the outhouse. What does that tell
you?”

“
You like fish?”

“
Of course. But what else?”

I scratched my head. “Er…the Keeper liked
fish too?”

Kari chuckled. “Well, I imagine so. But he
had to get those fish from somewhere. If I have read the map
correctly, the Vanishing Lake can be found but a short distance
from here. When we have eaten, perhaps we can hike there to wash
our clothes and bathe. What do you say, Kelthras?”

“
Hike? Wash clothes? What?” Kel chewed
upon his braid and failed to look tempted at the prospect. “I would
prefer to remain here to continue my translations, although I would
not object if you were to wash some of my things, Ned.”

“
It is not only my brother who would
do well in the slave trade,” I said, laughing.

Kel sighed. “You don’t appreciate what a
marvelous opportunity this is for me, cousin. The Book of Matativi
has long been on the University’s list of proscribed texts. Before
Brindar proposed these travels, never did I believe that I would
one day lay my hands upon a copy! It’s my duty to study as much as
I can, even if it means I must wear the same clothes and reek
appallingly for the duration of the pilgrimage.”

Kari approached the table carrying a thick
wooden bowl full of scrambled eggs and shreds of smoked fish,
decorated nicely with fresh herbs. “Breakfast, both of you. We
can’t have our pilgrims and scholars starving to death.”

“
Or reeking appallingly. Of course
I’ll take your things,” I said to Kel as Kari placed bowls in front
of us. “Where are my brother and Lana?”

“
They have gone to re-set the animal
traps and scout the tunnel and the other path Kari mentioned, with
the drop of death to the side.” Kel shoveled a spoonful of eggs
into his mouth. “This is delicious, Kari. Health to your hands! It
is a shame the three of us will have to eat it all by
ourselves.”

“
A shame indeed,” I agreed, tucking in
heartily and cheered at the thought of having Kari all to myself
for the day.

After we finished breakfast Kari and I left
Kel to his books and walked into the forest behind the Keeper’s
hut. The sky was bright and blue with only some streaks of white
cloud high above. The sun shone between the peaks of the mountains
to our left. Their caps, from all I could see through the canopy of
lush leaves above us, were white with glittering snow. The morning
birds were in full song and the horrific events of the previous day
faded in my mind.

We followed a faint path through the trees
which in no time became a steep climb. The undergrowth had recently
been hacked back, presumably by the Keeper on his way to the
lake.

“
Why is it called the Vanishing Lake?”
I puffed as the slope began to take its toll on my thighs. “What if
it’s not there when we arrive?”

Kari laughed. “I assume it’s because the
waters diminish in the heat of summer, not because the lake moves
around the world. You are most amusing when you pretend to be
stupid, Ned.”

Too out of breath to comment, I watched Kari
forge ahead through the trees which soon thinned as the terrain
around us grew more rocky until finally, when I was about to give
up and flop down onto the path, the path flattened out. Before us
lay one of the most stunning views I had ever seen in my life.

The lake was small but deep, glistening like
a sapphire in a ring of sharp peaks and fed by a nearby waterfall.
The shores were lined with trees, the like of which I had never
seen before. Ancient and gnarled boughs stretched over the water,
dotted with pink and purple blossoms shedding petals on every
breath of wind. Beneath the flowers the green leaves of summer were
beginning to unfurl. To the right lay a huge rockfall which Kari
pointed to with a smile. “Let’s sit among the rocks. We can drape
the clothes across them to dry. This lake is more beautiful than I
could have imagined, is it not?”

I nodded, still catching my breath, and
followed Kari to a sheltered spot near the waterfall, a clearing of
springy grass among huge boulders where he spread out a rug that
smelt of the Keeper’s hut. I flopped down on it and covered my eyes
against the glare of the sun.

“
If only we had thought to find the
Keeper’s nets, we might have had fresh fish tonight,” Kari
lamented.

“
Fresh clothes will be good enough.
Let’s get the damnable washing done so we can relax and enjoy this
wonderful spot. I have no desire to hang around that hut for longer
than necessary, and it feels already like an age since the sun
touched my skin.”

Never having washed a cloth in my life, I
was somewhat embarrassed to admit that I did not know where to
begin. I watched Kari scrubbing at the stinky shirt we had lifted
from Brin’s room with a bar of soap, rinsing the foam and wringing
the water out and then beating the garment against a rock. His
fingers were long and strong and his hands stroked and squeezed and
scrubbed, dripping and shining with water and white bubbles — a
sight which I found unexpectedly arousing. As he reached into the
sack for another he noticed that I had ceased all attempts to clean
my undervest in order to gaze at him, and he gave me a shy
smile.

I scooped the water up into his face and he
spluttered and laughed. “Now, now, Ned! Am I distracting you from
your duties? At least one of your shirts should be clean. Perhaps
the one you are wearing now. But you should first…” he lunged at me
and his wet hands plastered over my face and slipped down to my
chest. “Remove it!”

I overbalanced and sat heavily in the
shallows of the lake, laughing as the water lapped around me. “My
leathers! They will surely shrink.”

“
Then you must remove those too.” Kari
gave a mischievous wink.

When the clothes — including those we had
come in — were finally spread out on the warm rocks and drying in
the sunshine, we lay together naked on the blanket, gazing up at
the sky. Kari took my hand and laced his fingers through mine with
a long, contented sigh.

“
It’s a wonderful world. I’m so
pleased that my grandmother forced me away from the monastery once
more. Perhaps I will take my time before rushing back to the fold
after all.”

I shifted on my side to look at him. “It
will be some time before the clothes are dry. What are we to do
until then?”

“
I can think of some things to do,” he
murmured, eyes closed. The slow, lazy smile on his face made my
heart bloom with longing. His prick was at half-mast already and I
was seized with a desire to taste him, something I had never done
with a lover before.

What would they say at the Duck and Swan if
they could see me now? Nedim Melchion, aficionado of plump women
and silken sheets, on his knees on a stale-smelling blanket out in
the middle of the wilds beside the prone figure of a lithe young
man, sucking his cock to full and magnificent hardness? It was not
a fashionable activity even among the most open-minded of my
friends, seen only as the work of whores and hounds. But the sighs
and moans of Kari’s pleasure blended together with the lapping of
the lake and the birdsong, making the sweetest music I had ever
heard and I forgot all about my life in Lis for the first time.

He tasted of the lake where we had just
bathed, tangy like the juice of the olive, sweet and fresh. And
what a view presented itself from my vantage point! His belly was
dusted with the tight curls, muscles contracting under the soft
skin. His ribs, jutting out as he took deep breaths. His whole body
flinching and relaxing under my ministrations, beautiful and
enticing like a half-explored land. I cupped his balls and massaged
them through the wrinkled, furry sack. It was truly an intoxicating
experience. I could not get enough and slavered over his hot prick
like a madman until his thighs began to tremble and before I knew
it, he gave a cry and emptied himself into my mouth.