“I meant nothing by it,” Julwa said in his best placatory tone. “Come here and sit down, you’ll strain something standing like that for too long.”
“But I did see it!”
Gritting his teeth, Julwa struggled to remain polite. He did not need this today. “I’m sure you did, but the gods have their lives and we have ours, and ours right now are to guard the ani gurbs, or at least keep them from throwing themselves into the fire.” Sadly, that was a legitimate problem. “Besides, since when have the gods started taking an active role in our lives?”
“But the high priests say-”
“The high priests say a lot of things, none of which ever seem to affect me in a positive way.” Julwa spat. He knew the moment he said it that he shouldn’t have. Ghicep was by far the most devout of all of them – even Ulhom – and he idolized the high priests. Julwa usually kept his thoughts to himself in the interest of peace, but a while ago he’d made a deal with the gods, telling them that he was okay if they stopped watching over him so long as he got to keep his money and best ani grubs to himself. So far they’d seemed amicable with the arrangement.
Julwa raised his hands calmingly, opening his mouth to speak.
“No!” Ghicep nearly shouted.
“What?” asked Julwa, ears swiveling to focus on the dense anikeeper.
“No!” Ghicep repeated just as loudly, “I’m going to see if the god needs any help. Maybe he was trying to reach the high priests but forgot where they were.”
Had Julwa heard that correctly? Forgotten where the high priests were? How could they, with the high priests always being so loud.
“Either way,” Ghicep repeated, “I’m going to find out,” and with that final statement, bounded off into the desert night.
The remaining three anikeepers stared off into the night for several minutes, shock written plainly on their face.
“What in Glaciale just happened.” Malk spoke into the stillness around them.
“Sheer madness is what it is.” Mumbled Ulhom, iliciting another round of shocked silences from Julwa and Malk. Ulhom almost never spoke, having spent nearly all his life with the ani grubs. That one sentence had almost doubled the number of words the other two anikeepers had ever heard him speak, and each of those other words had invariably been “Tratr” in warning of the predator’s attack. The old anikeeper would laugh – sure – cry when a favorite grub died because it forgot to breathe – definitely – but words seemed beneath him.
“Well, this night’s just full of miracles.” Julwa said slowly, still staring at Ulhom.
“Think he’ll be back?” Malk asked.
“Yeah. What, do you think he really saw something?”
“I don’t know, I was asleep same as you two when he came in shouting about falling gods. Only thing I saw was the hair on my eyelids.”
Julwa nodded his agreement. “He’ll be back. He might just go as far as the far bank of the Nahura – he has the determination – but when he finds no god there, he’ll be back so long as he doesn’t let a sand storm catch him unawares or get eaten by a pack of Tratr. Let’s not tease him about chasing after a fallen god, when he gets back. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
The matter settled, Malk and Ulhom went back to sleep, Julwa taking his watch earlier than he’d expected.
One week later
Great temple of Lauta, Capitol city of Sordit
“Excelsum, my deepest apologies, but there is a matter that requires your attention.” Excelsum Vancil opened her eyes reluctantly, glaring at the Auditoris that had wakened her. His name was Hucep, if she was not mistaken. Still, it wasn’t as though he had come on his own. Someone, probably one of the high priests – (rightly) fearing for their health were they to wake her – had offered up poor Auditoris Hucep as a sacrifice.
“I’ll be there as quickly as the gods permit.” She grumbled, slowly rousing herself to a sitting position. Curse the Auditoris for being young. He seemed ill at ease, hopping from one foot to the other. “Stop that,” Vancil growled, “You’ll give me a muscle strain if you keep it up.” Auditoris Hucep stopped his jumping, but he still appeared tense.
“What is it, Auditoris, I’m not going to eat you now – too tired.” He jumped as though he thought her serious, then hastily stopped jumping, remember what she’d just told him to do.
“My apologies once again, Excelsum, but High Priest Colvum told me to pick you up and carry you if you were too slow. His words not mine!” he quickly added as she aimed one of the glares that had given her a reputation for eating those who displeased her.
“Touch me and you’ll meet the gods early.” She grumbled. She’d need to have a talk to Colvum about the ideas he was feeding the young, impressionable subclergy. “I’m coming I’m coming,” she said, exasperated, as the Auditoris resumed his hopping about. Putting clothes she was willing to appear in public with over her night clothes, taking up her scepter and headdress, she followed Auditoris Hucep as he led to one of the small, secluded chambers used by the low priests between sermons.
Inside she saw what was to forever remain one of the strangest sights in her life. High Priest Colvum stood, extending his height to its greatest reaches, shouting unashamedly at an anikeeper who sat, apparently unimpressed, his arms straightened over his abdomen.
“I’ll only talk to the Excelsum,” the anikeeper repeated over and over again as Colvum roared over him.
“I am a High Priest! Anything you wish to say to her you can say to – oh, Excelsum, thank you for coming so quickly.”
“It wasn’t as easy as you think.” Vancil said sharply. Her eyes fell on the third object in the room, widening. It looked like an oddly colored and oddly shaped coffin, but the most incredible aspect of it was that it was floating several [feet] above the ground, supported by nothing!
“High Priest Colvum, if you wouldn’t mind giving the good anikeeper and I some privacy,” she said quietly, still staring at the coffin. It went without saying that Auditoris Hucep would withdraw as well. Before they’d completely left the room she had hopped over to the side of the floating wonder, staring at its occupant. When she tried to touch the figure, he paw met an invisible force, keeping her from laying paw upon its ward.
“Tell me everything,” she said. The anikeeper obliged.
Several hours later
“You have greatly pleased the gods, good Ghicep. You are truly a devoted servant. I am glad you knew to take this to me. Far too many spurn the teachings of the gods, it seems. Far too many.” The final sentence had been said quietly, almost as though too herself, but then why would she have said it out loud? Ghicep didn’t know. Perhaps it was another strange thing others did. Others were strange, that was just a fact.
“Thank you, Excelsum,” he stammered. He’d never been so happy before. He knew this was what the gods wanted for him – to be this happy all the time.
“Are you hungry?” The Excelsum suddenly asked, jerking as though she’d been lost in thought. Of course she had – she was the Excelsum, the gods talked to her personally. If Ghicep were the Excelsum, he’d never talk to anyone else he didn’t have to. Her question had awakened a primal beast within his midsection.
“Yes, very, Excelsum,” he replied.
“I’m sorry to have kept you talking for so long,” the Excelsum said, “But I’m sure you can understand this matter is of the utmost importance.”
“Oh, yes, Excelsum, I understand,” Ghicep rushed to reassure her, “That’s why I brought this to you first.”
She smiled pleasantly, “As you’ve said before. Thank you once again. I insist that you eat here with us before you go. I’m afraid the breakfast hall will be empty, as it is far too early for even the subclergy’s meal. However, would you be opposed to a bowl or two of Raki seeds?”
Ghicep’s mouth watered at the mention of the scrumptious seeds with their flavorful juice filled contents. They were expensive, and he wasn’t very wealthy, so he’d only had a few in his life, but now he was offered an entire bowl! “Not at all . . . Excelsum,” he added belatedly, remembering his manners. “I’d appreaciate that very much, Excelsum.”
She smiled even wider, “Then if you would just follow me.” She led him from the room, setting two temple guards to keep watch over the doorway and the god within. Beckoning over a third guard she spoke quietly to him. Ghicep marveled at the incredible size of the temple. Even the hallways were large! He doubted he’d be able to touch the ceiling, and he was one of the highest jumpers he knew. He prided himself in that skill. His attention was soon reclaimed by the Excelsum.
“Custos Sicari will see you are well taken care of. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask him,” she was still smiling. But she was the Excelsum, how could she not be happy all the time?
“Right this way,” gestured Custos Sicari, leading Ghicep down a side passageway. It gradually began to darken around him. Fewer and fewer lights were spaced along the walls.
“Do you like eating in the dark?” Ghicep asked the guard, curiously, “Because I like eating in a room that’s bright. Bright always makes me happier.” The guard didn’t answer. Was it possible he hadn’t heard? Perhaps that’s why the Excelsum had been speaking straight into his ear, because he couldn’t hear well.
They walked in silence for a long time. Ghicep hated silence. People always seemed less comfortable when things were quiet for too long.
Speaking louder, Ghicep asked another question. “Do you have to hop this whole way every time you go for a meal? This seems like a long hallway to be going somewhere as important as the breakfast hall.”
“We’re not going to the breakfast hall.” Custos Sicari replied stonily. So he was hard of hearing.
“We’re not?” asked Ghicep, confused, though still loud enough for the Custos to hear him.
“Nope. We’re here, though,” they had reached a heavy, bronze studded door, which the guard opened, allowing Ghicep to go through first.
Ghicep looked about at the sand dunes around him, squinting in the bright afternoon sunlight. “But we’re just outside the city limits. The Excelsum said you were leading me to the breakfast hall.”
“She lied,” Sicar said, and Ghicep felt a great pain in his chest. Looking down, he saw the end of the guard’s heavy javelin poking through his furred chest, red blossoming from his heart as a desert flower. The happy light left his eyes.
Custos Sicari smiled thinly, “She does that from time to time.”
Excelsum Vancil watched as Custos Sicar led the poor, simple anikeeper out the back passageway. It was regrettable, but he couldn’t be allowed to roam freely, and she felt it a better mercy than caging him for the rest of his life. She returned to the room with the floating coffin, six temple guards trailing her, shuffling past the two still keeping watch at the door. Today would not be a good day for sleep.