home

search

Chapter 11 - Tsumaqui

  A series of crackling pops rippled along the passage as the sconces on the walls burst into life and lit the way with brilliant orange flames. Eirik sucked in a breath and gripped his axes tighter. Someone or something knew they were there. He shot a glance at Ruefin and saw a blend of fear and awe on his rugged features. Hataya advanced up the slope until she stood at the top in a golden circle of brilliance that spilled into the chamber beyond.

  A path curved around the perimeter where the wall was punctuated by openings into other chambers. From the entrance, the path continued upwards and ended in the centre at the foot of a circular raised platform carved from the same stone as the effigy standing upon it. With its head almost touching the roof, the statue of Tsumaqui the Water Bringer dominated the space. Every detail of the colossal ape had been rendered perfectly in a deep green stone flecked with black. The expression chiselled on the massive head was both noble and benevolent, and the fixed gaze of the deep-set eyes was directed down at the platform. More sconces flared around the perimeter, encircling the idol in a shining circle of light and revealing Tsumaqui in his entirety. The great ape stood with his feet planted on either side of an opening in the platform itself. The set of the arms and shoulders was such that he appeared to holding something, but the broad, exquisitely rendered palms held nothing but air.

  Hataya took a step towards the statue, but Eirik reached out and rested a hand on her arm. She looked up at him and he shook his head.

  “I think we should look around first,” he said, gesturing towards the openings in the wall. “You told us about the priests who tended to the shrine but we’ve seen no sign of them. Let’s find out what happened here before we do anything else.”

  Reverence shone in her eyes as she looked back at the statue, but she nodded assent and followed Ruefin who was already heading for the first doorway.

  Sunlight filtering through natural openings in the rock above revealed the withered remains of some kind of indoor garden. A network of dry channels emerged from the walls and wound around a series of earth beds blanketed in dried leaves and dust.

  The first of the corpses lay in the corner in a pile of crumpled, disintegrating clothes. Hataya made a gesture at the single intact lamp and brought the kindled light closer. The skull had been split in two and one arm lay a short distance away. A gleam of gold revealed a snapped neclace caught between the vertebrae of the neck. A link for a pendant remained but the object itself was missing.

  Tears began to roll down Hataya’s cheeks and she angrily wiped them away with her sleeve. Rage shone in her eyes and she gripped her staff until her knuckles blanched white.

  “Murderers. Murderers and defilers.” Her vooice was low and guttural, her face twisted by the turmoil inside her. Eirik had never imagined that this serene and placid woman could exude such anger. He moved aside as she turned sharply on her heel and headed for the exit. Caution was tossed aside as Hataya led the way from room to room, her rage and sorrow building with each grisly discovery. A kitchen and refectory lay in shambles, skeletal remains scattered across the floor amidst cups and plates and splintered furniture. More dead gathered dust in what had been a common room complete with blackened fireplace and broken, rug-draped benches. The remaining side chambers had been dormitories and, other than a body inside the first, were largely undamaged. Eirik guessed that an alarm had been given and those resting had rushed to the shrine’s defense. He watched Hataya sit heavily on one of the bed with her whole body shaking and her jaw tightly clenched. The tears had long since stopped, leaving hollow emptiness behind, and Eirik’s heart ached to see this good, kind woman so broken.

  Crouching in front of her, he took her trembling hands in his and squeezed them gently until she turned her empty eyes to his.

  “A terrible thing has happened here, and we must get justice for the dead,” he said, his voice low and even. “To do that, we must find out the how and the why of it. This happened for a reason, and we will find that reason, and then we will punish the guilty.”

  We’ve got a good idea who it was,” Ruefin added, finally sheathing his claymore. “The Umriah came here from the village and murdered the priests. We need to hunt them down.”

  “But why?” Eirik asked, not taking his eyes from Hataya. “This doesn’t look like a place steeped in riches. What was the point of coming here and killing everyone?”

  “Tsumaqui,” Hataya whispered, squeezing Eirik’s fingers, “I must speak to Tsumaqui. I’ll make my offering and see if he’ll speak with me.”

  Together they returned to the main chamber and Hataya led the way to the base of the raised platform. The hairs on the back of Eirik’s neck stood on end as, once again, he felt a presence in the room. This time the feeling was different. The chamber gave off an atmosphere of awareness as if it were itself alive and sensing their intent. Standing at the foot of the great stone ape, Eirik could help feeling awe at its stature and bearing. He followed its gaze and looked down into a well shaft so deep that the darkness obscured the bottom. He couldn’t tell if it still held water and was on the verge of tossing in a stone when Hataya unslung the woollen bag and stepped up onto the platform.

  The stoppered bottle of water had survived the journey without a scratch. Hataya knelt beside the rim of the well with the bottle cradled in her lap. A faint circle of green light spread out around her, and Eirik and Ruefin unobtrusively stepped back a pace. Hataya paused to compose herself, then looked up and addressed Tsumaqui the Water Bringer.

  “I am Hataya Suvash, Greenwalker of the Yeshmari,” she began with the barest hint of a tremor in her voice, “and I come to make amends. My people have lapsed in their faith and it is my duty to make good their failure to observe the rituals. I bring you the water of our village and offer it in your honour, that you might bless us with your bounty once more.”

  With a quick twist of her wrist, she pulled out the stopper and upended the bottle over the open mouth of the well. Eirik watched the stream of water disapperar and listened intently. It wasn’t until after the bottle was empty that he finally heard the sound of impact, but it was too far away to tell if it struck water or stone.

  Hataya rocked back on her heels and returned her gaze to the impassive visage above. The green light brightened and spread until a halo of emerald surrounded her and gleamed on the polished stone of the idol.

  Eirik watched the light shining on the statue, highlighting the massive torso and the fine details of its noble face.

  The head moved.

  The gaze shifted from the well to the woman kneeling beside it. One arm dropped to its side and the other reached out to Hataya, open-palmed and welcoming. A voice issued forth, older than time, deeper than the well, and strong enough to echo from the walls.

  “Welcome Greenwalker,” it rumbled, “it has been some time since I received an offering from the faithful.” The ape’s attention shifted to Eirik and Ruefin. What had once been an expression of calm benevolence became one of mistrust and suspicion. The extended palm closed and became a fist with a pointing finger. “Who are these outlanders in Yeshmari garb? They are not of the faithful. Why do they intrude upon my shrine when there is no-one left to persecute and nothing to left to steal?”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Tsumaqui’s voice rose to the point where Eirik’s ears began to hurt. He opened his mouth to reply but Hataya spoke up first.

  “These men were lost in the desert. One of them was sick. The sand sprites brought them to to us so that they might live, and they chose to repay our kindness by escorting me here. They are not of the people who desecrated this sacred place.”

  The pointing finger retracted and the furrowed brow softened as Tsumaqui studied his visitors with interest. Eirik held the ape’s gaze and felt as if he were being examined from the inside out. He moistened his lips and decided to risks speaking.

  “We came to help restore the water supply of the Yeshmari people. The river is dwindling and their way of life in under threat. We hoped that by making an offering we could make the river flow freely once more.”

  Tsumaqui drew himself up to full height and his face became solemn.

  “It is no longer in my power to restore the water to the land and I fear your journey was in vain.”

  Htatya’s face fell and she struggled to her feet, the green aura pulsing around her.

  “How can this be? You are Tsumaqui the Water Bringer, he who has nourished our land for generations. How could such power suddenly vanish?” Tears of frustration welled in her eyes and she leaned heavily on her staff.

  “What did they steal?” Ruefin asked suddenly. “You spoke of intruders who killed and stole. What is it that was so important that they murdered your priests?”

  A little surprised at Ruefin’s forthrightness, Eirik nodded approval and added his support.

  “There’s a village in the forest that was destroyed by the Umriah in their quest for the secret of this shrine. We’ve seen the remains in the other chambers and know they died violently. Tell us what happened here. There might be a way for us to make it right.”

  Tsumaqui reached out and beckoned to Eirik and Ruefin.

  “Come forward, strangers. Stand in my presence and you will see it for yourself.”

  With a wordless glance, they stepped up onto the platform beside Hataya. As their feet touched the stone, a stream of energy flowed from the great ape into the opening of the well in an illusion of shimmering water. A wave of dizziness washed over Eirik and he swayed for a moment before righting himself. The surface of the illusory water and, as he concentrated, an image took shape.

  Sunlight flooded in through the openings in the roof, bathing the giant stone ape in glorious light and glinting on the ripples in the well. Tsumaqui stood tall, his immense hands clasping a simple ewer from which a constant stream of water flowed into the opening at his feet. Fine spray sparkled in the light and shone on the surface of the platform. Robed figures emerged from the side chambers and passed along the perimeter in pursuit of their duties. Some carried produce from the gardens to the kitchen, others swept the floors and tended to the lanterns. A peaceful atmosphere of contemplation and reverence filled Eirik’s mind as he watched the green-robed figures going about their business.

  Abrupt screams shattered the peace and, as one, the priests turned to the entrance in shock as a group of armed men charged up the sloping passage into the main chamber. Clad in loosed robes of deep blue, the masked invaders flew at the priests and cut them down without mercy. Unarmed as they were, the priests of Tsumaqui attempted to flee but were unable to escape the whistling blades. Blood spattered the stone floor and the shrine became silent but for the splashing of water. The intruders surrounded the idol and a hooded figure, hands dripping a sickly light, pried the ewer from the ape’s hands. The flow ceased and the vessel was quickly wrapped in sacking and packed into a wooden crate. Two men seized the handles front and back and hastened away with their prize under the watchful eyes of their comrades.

  The shrine now stood silent and empty. The surface of the well no longer shimmered and instead became a mirror that reflected the statue standing above it. Slowly but surely, the level of the water began to drop. Inch by inch, the mirrored surface dropped into the depths until all that remained was a hollow darkness.

  Eirik stared into the well until, with a start, he realised the vision had passed. Everything made sense now. The Yeshmari’s loss of faith hadn’t caused the drought, it was simply a reaction to it.

  “Hataya, those people we saw. Were they of the Urmiah?” he asked, although he suspected he already knew the answer.

  “Yes,” she replied, her voice cold and hard, “they came for the ewer. He who controls the water has great power in these lands.”

  “Would it still produce water if it were taken somewhere else, or does it only work in the shrine?”

  Tsumaqui himself spoke, his voice soft and mournful.

  “The ewer must be placed in the hands of an earth spirit if it is to provide water safely.”

  “Safely? How would it be unsafe? I don’t understand.”

  This time Hataya responded, realisation and understanding written on her face,

  “Tsumaqui is wise and calm, thus the water flow is gentle and controlled. In the hands of a tempestuous spirit, the water might rage and destroy instead of nurturing the land. If held by a malevolent spirit, the water might be poisoned.”

  “Ha! Then our path is clear,” Ruefin said with his usual bluff enthusiasm. “We track down the ewer, steal it back, and return it to the hands of the good Tsumaqui. Simple.”

  Eirik couldn’t hide his grin but managed to smother the chuckle that came with it. He rested a hand on Hataya’s shoulder and nodded slowly when she met his gaze.

  “I wouldn’t have put it in those terms, but I agree with Ruefin. We can right the wrongs that were done here and restore the land to its natural state if we can find the ewer and bring it back.

  The last of Hataya’s anger finally trickled away and resolution washed over her face. She turned back to Tsumaqui.

  “I vow to you that your property will be returned, no matter what it takes. The shrine will be restored and the land will burgeon with life where it has withered. I swear it,” she said, her voice full of conviction.

  “I accept your oath, Greenwalker of the Yeshmari,” Tsumaqui replied, approval gleaming in his deep-set eyes. “May the Court of the Winds guide you on your journey.”

  With his pronouncement made, Tsumaqui shifted on the platform until he stood in the same pose they found him. Eirik blinked and realised that he was staring at a cold, unmoving statue. In that moment he found it hard to believe that the ape had moved at all. Had it spoken? Perhaps it had been a vision brought on by the atmosphere of the shrine.

  “That was the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ruefin said, rubbing a hand over his face. “What I wouldn’t give for a tankard of ale right now.”

  “I know what you mean,” Eirik replied, stepping off the platform and offering a hand to Hataya, “but I’ve a feeling we’ll see stranger things before our journey’s done.”

Recommended Popular Novels