Tivi's Dagger Read online

  Kel spoke mournfully from the armchair he was slumped in. “Why do we simply not return to Lis? I have no desire to encounter Night Walkers, agents of the Blood Red, goat-sized spiders, nor any other monstrous creature, despite the enticing prospect of visiting Thar Mati. And let’s face the truth; ancient as it is, the shrine cannot be much different to those dedicated to the Thirteen back in Lis. It would be satisfaction enough for me to study a while at the archives of one of these monasteries, if the monks would permit it.”

  Kel was voicing what I was rapidly coming to wish for; that we just turn tail and go home. I could only hope that the sight of the poor Keeper’s body would make Brin think twice about proceeding, but I knew in my heart that there was no stopping my brother once his mind was fixed upon a goal.

  “The shrine is very different from those in Lis,” Kari said eventually. “My grandmother was most surprised that Brindar wished to go there, if I’m honest. Surely the Protectors know its history.”

  Kel snorted. “They are too busy rewriting it to learn it, Kari.”

  I turned to Kari, idly curious. A shaft of moonlight was shining into the room through the half-shuttered window. Kari’s eyes were heavy-lidded with sleep. He rested his head on his hands and smiled at me and for a moment it felt as if we were the only people in the room.

  “How is it so different?” I asked, more for the chance to keep listening to Kari’s voice than for any curiosity about the shrine.

  “Thar Mati is the highest mountain in Methar, where it was long ago believed that the Gods made their home. Back when our lands were one it was the holiest of all shrines, now fallen into ruin but still a stunning sight. Those of the Silver do their best to tend to it, but so close to the un-named lands it can be a dangerous undertaking. None have yet dared to restore the nearby Temple for permanent habitation.”

  “Surely Brin knows this,” I said. “Why does it surprise you that he wishes to visit it?”

  Kari shifted on the creaking floorboards and linked his little finger around mine under the blanket. “There are thirteen statues, yes, but fifteen plinths. Two are empty, their statues long since destroyed. To name them in Lis would cost you your life, I imagine.”

  “I’d always wondered about the inauspicious number of gods!” Kel exclaimed, then dropped his voice to an excited whisper. “How may we learn the names of the others?”

  Kari rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. “They are all around you. Mata and Tivi were once part of the pantheon, and worshipped widely across Old Methar when the King’s rule spanned all the known lands. Some time before the first Splintering an old King was crowned named Methidi, who was by all historical accounts a miserable sort, prone to prostrating himself all day at the feet of Talmar the Death Bringer in the hope that He would sweep up all the sinners of the land into the Ashen Plane so the world could be reborn. Methidi had great support among certain sections of the populace, for the cracks that would lead to the first Splintering were already beginning to show, and many believed that only a purge of sinners would save them from war. It was Methidi’s devotion to Talmar that led him to rip the book of Matativi from the book the Protectors now call their Bible, and his monks began to destroy their shrines and statues all over the land, punishing their worshippers with nicks from their poisoned daggers, and leaving wretched, twisted corpses hanging from the boughs as a warning. It was well heeded for quite some time.”

  “But why?” I mumbled through the fog of impending sleep, interested despite myself. “It’s not logical. Surely Matativi and Talmar would be the most logical Gods to favor as all are touched by love and death. More so than Ygwar or Rithmas for instance — Order and Duty represented by the dullest of deities with books so full of abstract discussions and commandments on the minutiae of daily existence that they…” Serve better as arse-wipe paper, I was about to say. “Er…can’t be understood by most people.”

  “You may have a career in the silver yet, Ned,” Kari chuckled. “Whatever was in King Methidi’s mind has long disappeared into the mists of history. It’s said he lost his betrothed as a young man and never took another lover, which may explain his actions somewhat. Many who have felt the agonies of Tivi’s dagger would wish it destroyed, but only the pains of kings may shape the world.”

  “So are the Thirteen favored at all in this land?” Kel asked. “You said before that those in the silver have tried to maintain the shrine at Thar Mati. Yet so far I have seen no other shrines to any other Gods.”

  “The little I have read about modern practices in Lis would indicate that people may favor one above the others and yet still believe in all, because balance through Serenity is what’s sought,” Kari said. “As the ages have passed in Methar and our religions diverged, tales of the Thirteen have become children’s stories rather than scripture. Nowadays, there are even those who have come to believe that the Thirteen are merely aspects of Matativi herself. But it’s solely an intellectual debate. No one is reaching for the poison over it.”

  Kel sighed. “So interesting! Balance and Serenity are certainly what the Protectors have ever tried to teach the people. And now it seems they’ve given up teaching and seek to enforce them, more’s the pity.”

  Kari let out a sudden yawn and shifted against me under the blanket. I returned from the imaginary world of Old Methar to the smelly rug beneath me with a pang of disappointment. In my mind, the wild and snow-peaked land lay at seat of the Gods, and King Methidi was a wizened old man with a white beard to his knees and a gnarled stick for support. Perhaps he lived to defy his station and lived in a spartan room with a dusty floor. Thar Mati was a mountain temple which lay among the highest peaks, and when the Gods blew gently the clouds would part and they would see all of Creation at their feet. It was a building of smooth marble walls and deep green pools, and the boughs of overhanging trees would be weighted down with sweet, ripe fruit. Another few moments of listening to Kari’s voice and I would have been transported there in my dreams, a much more desirable location than the hard floor and musty stench of the Keeper’s hut.

  Kari’s voice became a mumble. “With regards to your translations, I should point out that in our language, as in old Lishmenthar, the word lamatiya means both poison and salve. Knowing that may help you to understand our hearts a little more.”

  “Fascinating! Truly enlightening,” Kel murmured, and I could almost hear his mind mulling over theological issues in the dark. “You have refocused my mind, Kari! Tomorrow I shall continue my study, reinvigorated. To the dawn!”

  “To the dawn,” I murmured, and closed my eyes.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning was truly glorious. Shafts of sunlight shone in through the smeary windows and I watched the dust swirl and eddy through them with sleep-stuck eyes. Yawning, I stretched the stiffness from my limbs and observed that I was the last to waken. Kel sat at the table, scribbling furiously onto a sheet of parchment, with the book of Matativi open before him. His lips moved as his mind worked. “Fascinating…oh yes…maybe wonder, rather than think…oh yes!”

  Kari was by the fire, stirring a pot and humming. There was a delicious smoky smell coming from within, and the crackling of the fire cheered my heart. He turned to me and smiled. “Good morning, Ned. You’re just in time for some eggs.”

  “You seem happy,” I said, sitting by the table and rubbing my eyes.

  “That I am. I have discovered a supply of fresh and smoked lake trout in the outhouse. What does that tell you?”

  “You like fish?”

  “Of course. But what else?”

  I scratched my head. “Er…the Keeper liked fish too?”

  Kari chuckled. “Well, I imagine so. But he had to get those fish from somewhere. If I have read the map correctly, the Vanishing Lake can be found but a short distance from here. When we have eaten, perhaps we can hike there to wash our clothes and bathe. What do you say, Kelthras?”

  “Hike? Wash clothes? What?” Kel chewed upon his braid and failed
to look tempted at the prospect. “I would prefer to remain here to continue my translations, although I would not object if you were to wash some of my things, Ned.”

  “It is not only my brother who would do well in the slave trade,” I said, laughing.

  Kel sighed. “You don’t appreciate what a marvelous opportunity this is for me, cousin. The Book of Matativi has long been on the University’s list of proscribed texts. Before Brindar proposed these travels, never did I believe that I would one day lay my hands upon a copy! It’s my duty to study as much as I can, even if it means I must wear the same clothes and reek appallingly for the duration of the pilgrimage.”

  Kari approached the table carrying a thick wooden bowl full of scrambled eggs and shreds of smoked fish, decorated nicely with fresh herbs. “Breakfast, both of you. We can’t have our pilgrims and scholars starving to death.”

  “Or reeking appallingly. Of course I’ll take your things,” I said to Kel as Kari placed bowls in front of us. “Where are my brother and Lana?”

  “They have gone to re-set the animal traps and scout the tunnel and the other path Kari mentioned, with the drop of death to the side.” Kel shoveled a spoonful of eggs into his mouth. “This is delicious, Kari. Health to your hands! It is a shame the three of us will have to eat it all by ourselves.”

  “A shame indeed,” I agreed, tucking in heartily and cheered at the thought of having Kari all to myself for the day.

  After we finished breakfast Kari and I left Kel to his books and walked into the forest behind the Keeper’s hut. The sky was bright and blue with only some streaks of white cloud high above. The sun shone between the peaks of the mountains to our left. Their caps, from all I could see through the canopy of lush leaves above us, were white with glittering snow. The morning birds were in full song and the horrific events of the previous day faded in my mind.

  We followed a faint path through the trees which in no time became a steep climb. The undergrowth had recently been hacked back, presumably by the Keeper on his way to the lake.

  “Why is it called the Vanishing Lake?” I puffed as the slope began to take its toll on my thighs. “What if it’s not there when we arrive?”

  Kari laughed. “I assume it’s because the waters diminish in the heat of summer, not because the lake moves around the world. You are most amusing when you pretend to be stupid, Ned.”

  Too out of breath to comment, I watched Kari forge ahead through the trees which soon thinned as the terrain around us grew more rocky until finally, when I was about to give up and flop down onto the path, the path flattened out. Before us lay one of the most stunning views I had ever seen in my life.

  The lake was small but deep, glistening like a sapphire in a ring of sharp peaks and fed by a nearby waterfall. The shores were lined with trees, the like of which I had never seen before. Ancient and gnarled boughs stretched over the water, dotted with pink and purple blossoms shedding petals on every breath of wind. Beneath the flowers the green leaves of summer were beginning to unfurl. To the right lay a huge rockfall which Kari pointed to with a smile. “Let’s sit among the rocks. We can drape the clothes across them to dry. This lake is more beautiful than I could have imagined, is it not?”

  I nodded, still catching my breath, and followed Kari to a sheltered spot near the waterfall, a clearing of springy grass among huge boulders where he spread out a rug that smelt of the Keeper’s hut. I flopped down on it and covered my eyes against the glare of the sun.

  “If only we had thought to find the Keeper’s nets, we might have had fresh fish tonight,” Kari lamented.

  “Fresh clothes will be good enough. Let’s get the damnable washing done so we can relax and enjoy this wonderful spot. I have no desire to hang around that hut for longer than necessary, and it feels already like an age since the sun touched my skin.”

  Never having washed a cloth in my life, I was somewhat embarrassed to admit that I did not know where to begin. I watched Kari scrubbing at the stinky shirt we had lifted from Brin’s room with a bar of soap, rinsing the foam and wringing the water out and then beating the garment against a rock. His fingers were long and strong and his hands stroked and squeezed and scrubbed, dripping and shining with water and white bubbles — a sight which I found unexpectedly arousing. As he reached into the sack for another he noticed that I had ceased all attempts to clean my undervest in order to gaze at him, and he gave me a shy smile.

  I scooped the water up into his face and he spluttered and laughed. “Now, now, Ned! Am I distracting you from your duties? At least one of your shirts should be clean. Perhaps the one you are wearing now. But you should first…” he lunged at me and his wet hands plastered over my face and slipped down to my chest. “Remove it!”

  I overbalanced and sat heavily in the shallows of the lake, laughing as the water lapped around me. “My leathers! They will surely shrink.”

  “Then you must remove those too.” Kari gave a mischievous wink.

  When the clothes — including those we had come in — were finally spread out on the warm rocks and drying in the sunshine, we lay together naked on the blanket, gazing up at the sky. Kari took my hand and laced his fingers through mine with a long, contented sigh.

  “It’s a wonderful world. I’m so pleased that my grandmother forced me away from the monastery once more. Perhaps I will take my time before rushing back to the fold after all.”

  I shifted on my side to look at him. “It will be some time before the clothes are dry. What are we to do until then?”

  “I can think of some things to do,” he murmured, eyes closed. The slow, lazy smile on his face made my heart bloom with longing. His prick was at half-mast already and I was seized with a desire to taste him, something I had never done with a lover before.

  What would they say at the Duck and Swan if they could see me now? Nedim Melchion, aficionado of plump women and silken sheets, on his knees on a stale-smelling blanket out in the middle of the wilds beside the prone figure of a lithe young man, sucking his cock to full and magnificent hardness? It was not a fashionable activity even among the most open-minded of my friends, seen only as the work of whores and hounds. But the sighs and moans of Kari’s pleasure blended together with the lapping of the lake and the birdsong, making the sweetest music I had ever heard and I forgot all about my life in Lis for the first time.

  He tasted of the lake where we had just bathed, tangy like the juice of the olive, sweet and fresh. And what a view presented itself from my vantage point! His belly was dusted with the tight curls, muscles contracting under the soft skin. His ribs, jutting out as he took deep breaths. His whole body flinching and relaxing under my ministrations, beautiful and enticing like a half-explored land. I cupped his balls and massaged them through the wrinkled, furry sack. It was truly an intoxicating experience. I could not get enough and slavered over his hot prick like a madman until his thighs began to tremble and before I knew it, he gave a cry and emptied himself into my mouth.

  Such an emission was not unexpected but its volume certainly was. I pulled off him to spit it onto the ground, choking and wiping my mouth. His prick slapped against his stomach, spent for the moment.

  “Ah Ned, I’m sorry! I was trying to hold it, truly.” He was half-panting and half-laughing as he pulled me to him. “But your mouth is truly amazing. I’m sorry if I drowned you.”

  “There are worse ways to die.” I grinned and stroked his hair out of his eyes, which were heavy-lidded with sleepy satisfaction. Even though I was as hard as the rocks around us and aching for more, I laid my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat slowing. A deep contentment filled my heart. We had hours ahead of us, alone by the shimmering lake, and time had never seemed so precious.

  Before I knew it I was dozing, but he nudged me awake with a childlike grin on his face. “Let me show you something great.”

  “Something greater than what we’ve just done?”

  He laughed. “Not exactly. But great all the same.”

/>   I struggled into a sitting position and scratched my head, watching as he darted away in all his naked glory toward a hunched-looking tree with a thick, gnarled silver trunk that told of ancient times. Sighing, I got up and approached it. Its leaves were vast compared to its height, thick and green and spanning at least three or four hands, and drooping as if their stalks could barely support their weight.

  “It’s an umbrella tree,” he said happily. “Rare at these heights but still…how I’m reminded of my childhood!”

  Crouching beside Kari on the smooth pebbles, I took a leaf in my hand. “It’s certainly aptly named,” I remarked. “If these were plucked and somehow sewn together, they would provide a good shelter.”

  He smiled at me. “It’s not the leaves that make this tree so special. Look underneath.” He lifted a leaf gently and pointed to its underside. My eyes widened at the sight. Hundreds of tiny snails were clumped along the thick vein in the center. Their shells were as colorful as a rainbow and glittered like diamonds.

  “Take a snail,” Kari said, and plucked one from its place.

  I did the same, observing how the creature immediately disappeared inside its shell. He released the leaf and it sagged back down, bobbing gently. Then he turned to me with a wide smile. “When I was a boy, my grandmother often played this game with me. There were few other children in the monastery to play with. I believe she lived a second childhood with me, with such sport as this.”

  “Sport? I thought we were to eat them.”

  He laughed gaily. “Of course not! These snails are poisonous, like most creatures in this land. We will set them on the topside of the leaf in the center. With such brightly-colored shells, they do not like to tarry long in the sight of birds, and will quickly aim to go back to the safety of the underside. We will soon see whose snail is the faster.”

  “And what is the prize for the winner?”

  He gave me a wicked wink. “Everything.”