A hand grabbed Anzu's staff and forcefully pulled it from his grip. Another unsheathed his dagger.

  This was a first. A staff taken away from an Archsage was akin to being severely underdressed in a bazaar full of people. This situation would need to be resolved with a great deal of patience and not a little tact. Or, at least, until he can get his mana to regenerate.

  "The she-elf's bow and dagger, too."

  Itani's first reaction was to cut the guard's hand with her dagger as they tried to take it from her. But after seeing Anzu submit his staff, she relented. Nevertheless, the guard who got cut, holding Itani's dagger in his right hand, drove the butt of the weapon directly into her forehead. Blood surfaced and engulfed her wound, trickling down her face, but the elf never made a sound. Anzu approved of this: not giving the brute any of the satisfaction.

  "Hands! Behind your back, now!"

  The priest continued shouting spit at them while one of the guards began tying them up with a thick rope.

  "You thought you could get away with something like this? We'll assemble a Grand tribunal just for you, which means the Grand Ensi will attend. And, you'll participate in the Discernment ritual."

  Discernment ritual? Anzu had no idea what that meant. But it didn't sound good. Hopefully, his mana would have regenerated a little by then.

  The other priest was now returning from the far end of the street where the fight had happened, shooting silent stares at the two prisoners.

  "The guards really are alive. I've just revived them. The priest is dead, though. It's Nabu. He was on patrol duty tonight."

  The other Mardukist kicked Anzu and Itani in the backside as he heard this.

  "We'll make you pay. Be certain of that. We'll have the whole of Lagash see what we do to villains that attack our own."

  The guards prodded the prisoners with their spears and began leading them further down the street, while the two priests brought up the rear.

  Dusk had segued into thick night by now. The only lights in the small street they were traversing were those cast by the torches the priests were carrying. What little light landed on the surrounding buildings awoke a sense of recognition in Anzu. The clay bricks were quite badly neglected in this part of town, more so than in the others he had seen so far. It must have been an older district. In fact, the way the street turned when approaching an intersection with a larger one seemed oddly familiar.

  Of course, he now knew where they were, as they turned right in the intersection. But how could this street be taking them to the Temple of Marduk? There had never been a temple dedicated to that god here.

  As they progressed further down the larger street, a large Sumerian ziggurat came into view. It had four terraces, one on top of the other, and a large staircase that led from the ground to the very top. Torches were lit around it and on every terrace, making the clay-brick facade clearly visible.

  This was the old Temple of Utu, the Sumerian sun god. But the carvings of the god had mostly been chiseled out and replaced by more recent ones. A figure with a long beard and a dragon-like companion now decorated the walls: Marduk with his servant dragon, Mushhushu. It was now clear why they were being brought here.

  "So you gentlemen decided to evict the sun god from his temple and bring in the god of storms and underworld instead?" Anzu turned his head to address the priests.

  "The god Shamash?"

  "Yes, Utu."

  "Why do you speak Sumerian, dog? Cease, at once."

  Well, that wasn't going to happen. They understood Sumerian anyway. No reason for Anzu to switch to Akkadian.

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  "But, yes. Shamash has no more power here. Now, this is the house of Marduk."

  "Lovely. I suppose the bigger ziggurat and more central location had nothing to do with it, eh?"

  The priest's face looked as if it were about to implode.

  "Silence the ritualist dog, guards. At once!"

  One of the guards took a dagger and hit Anzu with its butt right in the left cheek.

  "Ehm, I think you missed the right one," said Anzu with a strong, blow-induced lisp, turning the other cheek in the direction of the guard and spitting blood on the ground.

  "No, stop. We need him to be able to speak at the tribunal. And we're not wasting any healing scrolls on this scum," the priest interjected as the guard was about to hit Anzu again.

  As they approached the temple, the guards stopped, and the two priests moved to the front, probably to issue new orders. But it was interesting that there were only two bronze-clad warriors posted at the front staircase. It wasn't heavily guarded at all. Perhaps because it was nighttime? Either way, a trickle of relief awoke in Anzu. The situation might be more manageable than he initially thought.

  "Take them to the cells while we summon the Grand tribunal," one of the priests shouted at the warriors guarding the prisoners, and then snapping his fingers at the two that had recently been revived, "and you two come with us for a debrief."

  The guards behind Anzu and Itani stepped forward and prodded them with their spears again, though more forcefully this time, since they both winced.

  "Get a move on, prisoners. Down we go."

  While the priests and the recently revived guards ascended the tall brick-constructed staircase, Anzu and Itani were led through a door at the base of the ziggurat, which immediately sloped downwards. The cells were apparently in the basement. And you could feel that, too. As soon as they started descending, Anzu's nose was violated by thick, damp air and that particular smell that came with basements: mold.

  The hallways there were badly lit with widely interspersed small oil lamps. But it was enough to see that this place was used for two things. Clearly, for prisoners, but mostly for unorganized storage, which at times gave the impression of trash. Around every corner, there were cracked clay vials and pots, some lying on dusty shelves and most occupying the corners of the rooms and hallways. From time to time, Anzu spotted the odd cracked cuneiform cylinder, but these were much rarer.

  "Nice place you've got here," Anzu just couldn't help himself.

  "Shut it, you vermin," one of the guards shouted and threatened him with a spear.

  Just moments later, they arrived at a wooden door with a large bronze lock and an additional wooden bolt. Their cell, for sure. The guards opened it and prodded them inside, again quite forcefully with the tips of their spears. Before they knew it, the door was locked and bolted.

  "Have a lovely trial," one of the guards shouted, while the other one just spat.

  Itani had maintained a very composed appearance ever since they got tied up, saying nothing at all, even when Anzu provoked the guards. She now walked to the corner of the room, facing the wall. A moment later, as she turned around, the facade of composure was gone, and Anzu could read the distress she was in.

  "By the gods, Anzu. What...the...hell...was that? Ritualistic magic, really?" Itani could hardly contain the waterfall of emotions.

  "Alright, listen. I know this looks bad, but we're getting out of here. Trust me."

  "Trust you... Anzu, you do realize most have never met a ritualist sage, right? I've never met one until today. How could you not know this was strictly forbidden by Decree?"

  As Itani went on, Anzu noticed something odd in the ceiling.

  "And what's with the low-level clothes? You said you got mugged before, but I'm seriously starting to..."

  "Itani, wait. Shh," Anzu pressed his fingers against his lips and pointed to the odd formation on the ceiling.

  It was a wide copper pipe, slightly widened at the end, that was protruding downwards.

  "They're listening. See? Let's not go into this now."

  Itani's face changed when she saw the pipe, which pleased Anzu, since this was no place to discuss anything that was even remotely close to confidential. The Mardukists would use everything they could in their tribunal, as they called it. He knew it would be a farce, but still. It would be unwise to give them even more material.

  "So, about that grinding session. I think you'll owe me a little more than that after this."

  Anzu smiled, happy to see Itani had gathered herself. He wasn't too sure if this was her acting for the Mardukists listening in, or whether she meant it.

  "I am indeed. Bumping you up a few levels won't be a problem. In fact, I know just the spot."

  More than half an hour had passed, and the adventurers were sitting down now, each in their own dusty and cobweb-ridden corner. For a while, they discussed the weather and similar nonsense themes, to let the priests think they hadn't seen the pipe in the ceiling. But eventually, they grew tired of the charade. Surely the Mardukists sleep at night just like most people?

  At this time, the cellar hallway echoed with heavy footsteps and the clinking of bronze armor. A key began turning in the door to their cell.

  This was surprising. Had the tribunal been summoned? This quickly, and in the night?

  The familiar face of a guard appeared as the door opened.

  "Well, prisoners. The tribunal has been summoned, and the Grand Ensi has arrived himself. An express summoning, if ever I've seen one. They're super interested in you, it seems."