Chapter seventy

Tlaxacapec

‘You need some water’ spluttered the Priest, as the Thief struggled out of the giant helm. The Priest offered him a full water skin and he drank it in one long draft.

‘Were they fooled?’

The Thief smiled grimly.

‘It seems that they were, given that I am back here alive…’

The Priest said nothing to this.

‘What did they say?’ he asked instead

‘They requested that I come back and find all there is to know about a witch named Kratos’

‘Ahh’ muttered the Priest, ‘he is the Supreme Archwitch, the world’s Great Antagonist’

The Thief ignored the rhetoric.

‘That’s as maybe, but I cannot find out anything about his intentions, can I, as I have no scrying powers’

The Priest sighed.

‘All we can do is play for time; stall for as long as my Master needs’

‘And how long is that?’

The Priest shrugged guiltily.

‘I do not know. The grey Wanderer has given me no instructions for some time’

The Thief dried himself with a towel. Then he picked up the Grey Helm carefully and hung it on a spectral hook.

‘How do you know that he has not abandoned you?’ he asked

The Priest shrugged again, even more emphatically this time.

‘He may have done – but it would not change my avocation’ 

‘And what about me. Am I just to stay here until the gods find me out and destroy me?

‘That’s up to you’ said the Priest, ‘you can leave whenever you want to…’

The Thief glared. He sat down on the lip of his pallet and began to dress.

‘Bring me some food’ he barked, and that was where the conversation ended.

 

It was two hours later; dinner was half eaten and they sat in gloomy silence.

Something made the Priest look round. There was a wolf standing in the doorway of the unnavigable labyrinth that led to their secret living area. The Priest scarcely blinked. He turned to the animal and bowed very low.

‘My lord’ he said, ‘It is an honour’

The Thief had no idea what was going on. What was this creature and what was he doing here?

The coyote simply turned round and pointed his nose at a strange man behind him. Then he was gone, without a whimper, bang or flash.

‘I’ve come a long way’ the strange man said, in uncertain Ethian, his voice coarse from lack of use.

The intruder was covered from head to foot in dirt and his only clothes were two strips of impala hide. He looked like a savannah bushman, but he didn’t sound anything like one. The Thief could certainly not place his accent.

‘Who are you?’ asked the Thief, ‘and where have you come from?’

‘I’m not sure’ croaked the dirty man, ‘and I don’t think it matters anymore’

The Priest was still staring at where the coyote had disappeared, but now he turned abruptly to address the newcomer.

‘Perhaps a more important question, then, is where are you going?’

The dirty man looked around a little wildly.

‘Claria in Eddorre’ he whispered

The Priest smiled. It was a very gentle smile.

‘Well, then you’ve arrived. But things have rather changed here…’

‘We call it Tlaxapec now…’ muttered the Thief. The Priest glared at him.

The ragged man looked round the bare cell.

‘Where is the Curia, the Temple of all Gods and the Great Aqueduct, that engineering marvel of the world’

All gone a millennia ago, all gone under the hill, thought the Thief, but he dare not speak again. He knew that something was happening that was important but he couldn’t work out what it was.

‘It is too dangerous to examine any of those things at the moment’ explained the Priest, ‘we are in peril ‘

The man looked up at him with pleading eyes.

‘But I must find it’ he said

‘What? What must you find?’

The dirty man was now blinking rapidly. Tears were dropping to the floor in time with his blinks.

‘The chair….’

‘A chair? What sort of chair?’

The intruder had to hold his head in his hands to squeeze out the knowledge.

‘A large one made of gold…’

The Priest examined the haggard man carefully. The poor creature was damaged, but he had a familiar aura. He looked very closely. He has been healed by my master. I cannot abandon him to his mad quest. 

‘Stay with us and we will protect you…’ he urged.

This was too much for the Thief.

‘How will we do that? We have no way of protecting ourselves…’

‘…as best we can’

 The dirty man considered this.

‘I have no other offers’ he said flatly.

The Priest took that as an agreement and moved on.

‘Did the coyote lead you here?’ he asked

‘The wolf? Yes… There was something strange about him’

The Priest smiled

‘That is quite true’

 But he must have done it for a reason thought the Priest, and we need to find out what that is. And who you are.

 ‘He is a god; he is known to elves and humans as Rhopadon,’ he explained.

The two humans stared at him, as if they had a thousand questions to ask, but neither of them seemed to be able to force one out. Silence descended again.

The Thief got up and offered the dirty man an edge of his pallet to sit on. He went over to the stew pot and ladled the dregs into his now empty bowl. He handed it to the stranger. 

‘Eat’ he commanded, but his tone was not unkind.