Dreams of Steel

Chapter Sixty-Four

The bridge I had wanted built was incomplete but we did cross on foot while soldiers brought our mounts across by the ford. My move was symbolic, meant to lend encouragement to the engineers.

Narayan was impressed and Ram was indifferent, except to say it was nice to cross the river without getting his feet wet. He did not see the implications of a bridge.

Because I was sick it took longer to reach Ghoja than I anticipated. We were pressed for time. Narayan rode the edge of panic but we reached the holy grove late the evening before the ceremonies. I was exhausted. I told Narayan, “You handle the arrangements. I can’t do anything more.”

He looked at me, concerned. Ram said, “You must see a physician, Mistress. Soon.”

“I’ve decided to. When we’re done here we head north. I can’t take this much longer.”

“The rains...”

The season would start soon. If we dallied in Taglios we would return to the Main after it started rising. Already there were scattered showers every day. “The bridge is there. We might have to leave our mounts but we can get across.”

Narayan nodded curtly. “I’ll talk to the priests. See that she rests, Ram. Initiation can be stressful.”

That was the first I had heard it hinted that I was expected to go through the same initiation ceremony as everyone else. It irked me but I was too tired to protest. I just lay there while Ram borrowed fire and rice and prepared a meal. Several jamadars came to pay their respects. Ram warned them off. No priests came. By then I had sunk into a lassitude so deep I did not bother to ask Ram if that was significant.

I caught movement from the corner of an eye, a watcher where none should be. I turned, caught a glimpse of a face.

That was no Deceiver. I had not seen that face since before the fighting that had cost me Croaker. Frogface, they called him. An imp. What was he doing here?

I could not catch him. I was way too weak. Nothing I could do but keep him in mind. I fell asleep as soon as I’d eaten.

Drums wakened me. They were drums with deep voices, the kind men sound by pounding with fists or palms. Boom! Boom! Boom! No respite. Ram told me they would not let up till next dawn. Other drums with deeper voices joined them. I peered out of the crude lean-to Ram had built for me. One was not far away. The man pounding the drum used padded mallets with handles four feet long. There was one such drum at each of the wind’s four quarters.

More drums throbbed within the temple. Ram assured me it had been cleansed and sanctified.

I did not much care. I was as sick as ever I had been. My night had been filled with the darkest dreams yet, dreams in which the whole world suffered from advanced leprosy. The smell lingered in my nostrils, worsening the sickness.

Ram had anticipated my condition. Maybe he had watched me in my sleep, predicting my sickness from how I rested. I don’t know. But he put up a crude privacy screen so I would not become a public entertainment. ’

I was past the worst when Narayan came. “If you don’t go see a physician after this I’ll personally drag you to Taglios. Mistress. There’s no reason not to take the time.”

“I will. I will. You can count on it.”

“I do. You’re important to me. You’re our future.”

Chanting began in the temple. “Why is it different this time?”

“So much to crowd in. Ceremonial obligations and initiations. You won’t have to do anything till tonight. Rest. And you’ll rest again tomorrow if the ceremony wears you out.”

Just lying around. Nothing to do. That was a strain itself. I could not recall a time when I’d had nothing to do but lie around. Once I got control of my nausea I tried to extend and stretch my talents.

They were coming back almost of their own accord. I was capable of more than I suspected. I was close to being a match for the wizard Smoke, now.

Good news must be balanced by bad, I suppose. My elation died when I looked up from cupped palms and found myself caught in a dream right there in broad daylight.

I could see both the horror of the worst dream and the grove around me. Neither seemed completely real. Neither was more substantial than the other.

I went from the caverns of death to a plain of death. I had gone there only rarely. I associated that plain with the battle during which Kina had devoured hordes of demons. A great black figure strode across the plain, her movements stylized, like Gunni dances. Each step shook the plain. I felt the shaking. It was as real as an earthquake.

She wore nothing. Her shape was not quite human. She had four arms and eight breasts. Each hand clutched something suggestive of death or warfare. She wore a necklace of baby skulls. From her girdle, like bunches of withered bananas, hung strings of what I first took to be severed thumbs but which, as she stamped closer, proved to be more singular and potent male appendages.

Her hairless head was shaped more like an egg than a human head. At first it impressed me as insectoid but she had a mouth like that of a carnivore. Blood dribbled down her chin. Her eyes were large and filled with fire.

The stench of old death preceded her.

That unexpected apparition shook me to the core.

And from some corner of memory Croaker stepped with his irreverent and sarcastic outlook. Old Busybody smells ripe for her centennial bath. Might even be time for her to brush her teeth.

The thought was so startling I looked around. Had someone spoken?

I was alone. It was just a thought in his style, loosened by the strain. When I looked forward again the apparition had faded. I shuddered.

The smell lingered. It was not imaginary. A man passing stopped, startled. He sniffed, looked odd, hurried off. I shuddered again.

Was that how it would be? Dreams awake and asleep, both?

I shuddered a third time, frightened. My will was not strong enough to resist that.

Several times during the day the stench came back. Mercifully, the apparition did not accompany it. I did not make myself vulnerable by opening channels of power again.

Narayan came when it was time. I had not seen him since morning. He had not seen me. He looked at me oddly. I asked, “What’s the matter?”

“There’s something... An aura? Yes. You feel like the Daughter of Night should feel.” He became embarrassed. “The initiations start in an hour. I talked to the priests. No woman has ever joined us before. There are no precedents. They decided you’ll have to face it the way everyone does.”

“I take it that’s not...”

“The candidates stand naked before Kina while she judges their worthiness.”

“I see.” To say I was not thrilled would be an understatement, though, initially, my objection was a matter of vanity. I looked like hell. Like a famine victim, withering limbs and bloating belly. We’d seldom eaten well since we had fled from Dejagore.

I gave it some thought. It presented me with little choice, really. If I refused to disrobe, I suspected, I would not leave the grove alive. And I needed the Stranglers. I had plans for them. “I’ll do what has to be done.”

Narayan was relieved. “You won’t have to expose yourself to everyone.”

“No? Just to the priests and jamadars and other candidates and whoever is helping put on the show?”

“It’s been arranged. There will be six candidates, the minimum permitted. There will be one high priest, his assistant, one jamadar as chief Strangler, with orders to strike down any chanter who raises his eyes from the floor. You may pick those three men yourself if you like.”

Odd. “Why so thoughtful?”

Narayan whispered, “I shouldn’t tell you. Opinion is divided about whether you’re the true Daughter of Night. Those who do believe expect you to have the priest, his assistant, and the chief Strangler put to death after Kina bestows her favor. They want to risk the minimum number of men.”

“What about the other candidates?”

“They won’t remember.”

“I see.”

“I’ll be among the chanters as your sponsor.”

“I see.” I wondered what would happen to him if I failed. “I don’t care who the priests and Strangler are.”

He grinned. “Excellent, Mistress. You must prepare. Ram. Help me put the screen up again. Mistress, this is the robe you’ll wear till you stand before the goddess.” He handed me a white bundle. The robe looked like it had been used for generations without having been mended or cleaned.

I got ready.