Sanctuary

“He will not listen!” Kerian kicked the sand, sending a spray of white grains into the air. “He’s tired of fighting and dreams of a new elven homeland in Khur, in that mythical valley!”

The priestess lifted her head abruptly, the tiny bells braided into her hair jangling discordantly. “The Valley of the Blue Sands does exist,” she said quietly. “The analects of the goddess speak of it quite clearly. She calls it ‘the refuge of the damned.”

Kerian snorted. Maybe Gilthas was onto something. Who was more damned these days than elves? She pushed these thoughts aside and concentrated on fulfilling her mission. “The Speaker respectfully requests any documents you might have with information on the valley. Will you lend them, Holy Mistress?”

The priestess raised a hand, and a young acolyte appeared silently in answer. Sa’ida murmured to the girl, who bowed and left.

“I gladly dispense the wisdom of the great goddess,” Sa’ida said. “I hope it will persuade your king to abandon this impossible notion.”

Kerian nodded. “Holy Mistress, I agree with you. My people’s future does not lie in Khur.”

In moments, the acolyte returned, accompanied by three others. Each of the four bore a leather case about three feet long. Sa’ida checked the clay tags on the four cases and gave her permission for them to be turned over to the Lioness.

As Kerian took one, the priestess reached out, resting a hand on hers. “I entrust these sacred texts to you, Kerianseray,” she said gravely. “By your word they must be safeguarded.”

Equally grave, the Lioness accepted the charge. She asked whether the priestess would land in trouble with Sahim-Khan, or the Torghanists, for helping the elves.

“Why should I, a humble servant of the great goddess, fear the enmity of men?” asked the priestess.

Humble servant? The Lioness was amused. The old woman before her exerted enormous influence in Khuri-Khan, not only at court but among the people as well. In a fiercely patriarchal society, the healer-priestesses of Elir-Sana were accorded a respect and reverence given to no other women. This so-called humble servant was vital to the rule of Sahim-Khan. If the healers of Elir-Sana ever chose to withhold their skills from Sahim-Khan, his city would be in dire straits indeed.

Before leaving, Kerian offered a contribution to the temple’s coffers. The high priestess gave her a severe look. “Alms are always welcome, but one cannot buy the favors of the goddess.”

“I don’t want the goddess’s favor, just yours.”

Sa’ida rose to her feet, face flushing. “You offend!”

“Forgive me, Holy Mistress. The cowardly attack on myself and my young aide distressed me. Please forget my unfortunate words.”

Mention of the tattooed assassins had the desired effect. Sa’ida was plainly upset by the incident. In many ways, Torghan and Elir-Sana were polar opposites, even enemies. The god of the unforgiving desert, of revenge and rage, had little common ground with the goddess of healing, humility, and plenty.

Kerian bowed and turned to go, the three acolytes carrying the other leather cases trailing in her wake. However, Sa’ida called her back.

Stepping away from the Lioness, and turning to face the statue of Elir-Sana, the high priestess spread her hands and sank to her knees. She began to chant a rhythmic, unintelligible sentence. The three acolytes standing near Kerian bowed their heads immediately, but the elf general watched in wide-eyed fascination as the priestess reached out toward the statue’s base. Her hand passed into the marble pedestal without hindrance. The Lioness blinked rapidly, suspecting a trick of the light.

On her feet again, Sa’ida held out a closed fist. “For your bravery, and to ease your suffering, the goddess presents you with a gift,” she said.

This proved to be a smooth, heavy object. About the size of a goose egg, it resembled a giant opal, its white surface veined with pink, green, and gold. Pretty, but the Lioness couldn’t begin to fathom its purpose. She asked, and Sa’ida gave a suitably cryptic answer.

“It will stop the killing—at least for a time. Keep it close by, seeker.”

Their meeting was at an end. With Sa’ida in the lead and the three acolytes trailing behind, Kerian departed the sanctuary. The high priestess did not speak again until they reached the final portal, the double doors that would take Kerian outside. Sa’ida sent the three acolytes out, leaving her alone briefly with the Lioness.

“You and your people should depart Khur as soon as possible. No man in Khur is your friend—and only sorrow can come of your remaining here.”

With that, the high priestess of Elir-Sana turned and walked back into her temple’s shaded depths.

Chapter 3