Read Online In Her Name: The First Empress: Book 01 - From Chaos Born by Michael R. Hicks - Free Book Online Page B
Book: In Her Name: The First Empress: Book 01 - From Chaos Born by Michael R. Hicks
Read Free Book Online
Authors: Michael R. Hicks
Ads: Link
mention of their daughter, Keel-Tath, banished his dark thoughts. She was a full moon cycle of age now, and had been peered at or held by nearly everyone in the city, or so it seemed. He knew that, as a father who thought he could never have a child, he was grievously biased, but the child was beautiful by any measure. She stood out like a beacon among the other children of the creche with her lush white hair and red talons. Keel-Tath was boisterous at play and a vision of peace when asleep. The healers kept close watch on her, but so far she was nothing more or less than an extraordinarily healthy female child, the visible and unexplainable genetic anomalies notwithstanding.
The wardresses had already determined that she would be a warrior. Just as the healers knew the intimacies of the body, the wardresses keenly understood all the traits in young children that determined caste. Caste was determined purely on ability and affinity, not on the caste or status of the parents. A mated pair of warriors could produce a healer or porter of water, just as builders could give birth to warriors. It was a complex dance of genetics that the wardresses instinctively understood, just as the skygazers understood the movements of the stars and planets across the heavens, and the healers understood their symbionts.
The proud parents had looked in on their daughter at every possible opportunity, making the most of the time that Kunan-Lohr’s pact with the Dark Queen had given them. Time that had been all too fleeting.
That thought brought a heavy sigh to his lips. He again looked out beyond the walls of the city, contemplating the unpalatable task of preparing for the long return journey to the East.
His silver-flecked eyes were drawn to three dark shapes, magtheps trotting along the eastern road, approaching the main gate.
He gasped in surprise when a banner suddenly rose from the barbican. It was black with a single cyan rune in the center, the sigil of the Desh-Ka.
“What would one of the priesthood be doing here?” Ulana-Tath wondered. The priests and priestesses were rarely seen outside the kazhas , and few ordinary followers of the Way ever had reason to visit the temple.
Yet every city worthy of the name had pennants such as this one to herald the arrival of any member of the priesthood of the seven orders, even though one of them, the Ka’i-Nur, had never been used in living memory here in Keel-A’ar. Acolytes, which were seen somewhat more often, were not accorded the same honor, although they were always greeted with the greatest respect.
Frowning, Kunan-Lohr could only recall two such visits by the priesthood to Keel-A’ar in his lifetime, and that was when he had been very young.
“I cannot imagine,” was all he could think of to say. He returned to their bed of hides and knelt, quickly donning his armor. Ulana-Tath did the same.
Regardless of the purpose of the visit, the priest or priestess would want to meet with the master and mistress of the city.
* * *
After being hailed by the captain of the guard and granted entrance to the city, Ayan-Dar was greeted by a mob of well-wishers. His mounts were whisked away to be fed, watered, and groomed. Armorers quickly polished his armor to a gleaming luster and through some means he could not fathom caused the dust to fall away from his cloak. Others pressed a mug of ale into his hand, which he drank greedily, parched from the long last leg of his ride. As he finished, it was whisked away, to be replaced by a platter of food that he happily sampled, savoring the excellent cuts of meat.
When he was sated, the group around him knelt and rendered the ritual salute, tla’a-kane .
Anin-Khan, the captain of the guard, then stood. “This way, priest of the Desh-Ka.” He led Ayan-Dar to a small but exquisitely kept garden that stood off to one side of the entry courtyard. “My master, Kunan-Lohr, will be here momentarily.”
Ayan-Dar bowed his head as
The wardresses had already determined that she would be a warrior. Just as the healers knew the intimacies of the body, the wardresses keenly understood all the traits in young children that determined caste. Caste was determined purely on ability and affinity, not on the caste or status of the parents. A mated pair of warriors could produce a healer or porter of water, just as builders could give birth to warriors. It was a complex dance of genetics that the wardresses instinctively understood, just as the skygazers understood the movements of the stars and planets across the heavens, and the healers understood their symbionts.
The proud parents had looked in on their daughter at every possible opportunity, making the most of the time that Kunan-Lohr’s pact with the Dark Queen had given them. Time that had been all too fleeting.
That thought brought a heavy sigh to his lips. He again looked out beyond the walls of the city, contemplating the unpalatable task of preparing for the long return journey to the East.
His silver-flecked eyes were drawn to three dark shapes, magtheps trotting along the eastern road, approaching the main gate.
He gasped in surprise when a banner suddenly rose from the barbican. It was black with a single cyan rune in the center, the sigil of the Desh-Ka.
“What would one of the priesthood be doing here?” Ulana-Tath wondered. The priests and priestesses were rarely seen outside the kazhas , and few ordinary followers of the Way ever had reason to visit the temple.
Yet every city worthy of the name had pennants such as this one to herald the arrival of any member of the priesthood of the seven orders, even though one of them, the Ka’i-Nur, had never been used in living memory here in Keel-A’ar. Acolytes, which were seen somewhat more often, were not accorded the same honor, although they were always greeted with the greatest respect.
Frowning, Kunan-Lohr could only recall two such visits by the priesthood to Keel-A’ar in his lifetime, and that was when he had been very young.
“I cannot imagine,” was all he could think of to say. He returned to their bed of hides and knelt, quickly donning his armor. Ulana-Tath did the same.
Regardless of the purpose of the visit, the priest or priestess would want to meet with the master and mistress of the city.
* * *
After being hailed by the captain of the guard and granted entrance to the city, Ayan-Dar was greeted by a mob of well-wishers. His mounts were whisked away to be fed, watered, and groomed. Armorers quickly polished his armor to a gleaming luster and through some means he could not fathom caused the dust to fall away from his cloak. Others pressed a mug of ale into his hand, which he drank greedily, parched from the long last leg of his ride. As he finished, it was whisked away, to be replaced by a platter of food that he happily sampled, savoring the excellent cuts of meat.
When he was sated, the group around him knelt and rendered the ritual salute, tla’a-kane .
Anin-Khan, the captain of the guard, then stood. “This way, priest of the Desh-Ka.” He led Ayan-Dar to a small but exquisitely kept garden that stood off to one side of the entry courtyard. “My master, Kunan-Lohr, will be here momentarily.”
Ayan-Dar bowed his head as
Similar Books
