CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (67 page)

“You were right, we are the bait! But the pits -- I don’t like that. I’ve heard stories of what’s in there,” Dolates worried.

Herikos tried to reassure his second. “If we make it that far, we’ll still have our weapons. I doubt the creatures of the pits will be much worse than what the Egyptians and Babylonians have in store for us.” He spurred the men who had paused in their labors to gawk at Ares back into action. “You heard him. Get ready and form your ranks by the gates!”

The company set about collecting their shields and spears. Herikos and Dolates were quietly discussing which men to put at key points in the shield wall when several more shadows fell over them.

“It’s those gods again,” Dolates said, pointing up as Eros and Zephyrus flew down into the courtyard. “Who are they carrying?” They moved to the edge of the wall to watch.

As Eros and Zephyrus landed, Panos hurried over to meet them. He had overheard that these two would be bringing back key intelligence about the enemy and wanted to be the first in line to relay what they had learned to Ares. Panos frowned slightly as he took note of the two mortals they had brought along. One was a beautiful girl, the last thing Ares needed to have in a hive of soldiers with their blood stirred. The other was a man half dead and therefore useless. As the priest drew closer he could see that the man was one who had been in Kastor’s company when Panos had imprisoned them earlier. His frown turned into a smile at the amusing thought of this one’s escape being miraculously foiled. Clearly it was his fate to die here.

Herikos and Dolates made several derisive remarks as they watched devious Panos rush over to interact with the two gods. As the priest greeted them, the body of the man was set on the ground. “I think that’s D’Molay!” Herikos exclaimed. The woman threw herself down at the priest’s feet in appeal as Dolates nodded at his commander’s identification.

“You’re right. I recognize him now.” They continued to watch as one of the gods began to get angry and threatening. Panos finally motioned to several in his retinue who picked up D’Molay and hurried him to the healers’ chambers at the rear of the complex. The girl scrambled to her feet and made to follow, but the hand of the gentler god fell on her shoulder as he waved his immortal companion to follow the priests instead. Then Panos took the girl’s hand and began to lead her toward the sacred chambers of the fortress. “Look at that,” Dolates went on. “The bastard’s taking spoils before the battle’s even started.”

“Don’t worry about it. As soon as battle starts, he’ll be too busy with his prayers to get up to any mischief with that woman,” Herikos said, knowing full well how much watching Panos play the role of protector of the meek would infuriate Kastor. He hoped his friend was busy on the ramparts and unaware of the girl.

Dolates shrugged, inspecting the point of his spear and considering whether he had time to sharpen it one last time. “You’re right. He’s just getting her out of the way. I hope she catches Ares’ eye. That will keep his hands off her.”

Herikos laughed. “Somehow, friend, I don’t think the gentle ones are his type. But you were right about one thing. A god is claiming her.” The two friends watched as the god with wings stopped Panos from taking charge of the girl.

*
       
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*

“I wish I could stay with him,” Aavi told Eros as he walked her across the courtyard of the fortress. “Thank you so much for getting him to the healers.” Aavi knew D’Molay would be dead by now without Eros and Zephyrus, but that thought was so frightening she didn’t dare say it aloud.

“Fortunately, the Fates brought us to you just in time. It’s best you stay away from the hospital, but I’ll order that a chamber be found for you with room for D’Molay when he can be moved. I’m sure you could use a bit of rest, and Zeus knows D’Molay will need some, even after the healers have done their work.”

He guided her to a small table where a man with papers was seated. He was busy making notes as they approached, but he quickly looked up. It was hard to miss an almost naked man with large feathery wings and a beautiful young companion in the midst of all these armed soldiers.

“Eros? Good tidings, my lord. Is there something I can do for you?”
 
The heavy-set man wearing a breast-plate was a bit surprised by the arrival of the god Eros and his concubine, right on the verge of a major battle. This was the last place he expected to see the god of love. He fussed with his thinning hair nervously, hoping he didn’t look too ugly in front of the perfectly formed god.

“I need a room.”
 

A wry smile passed across the man’s face as he rested his arms on the table and looked at the two of them. “Well, we are getting ready for a major battle, but I’m sure I can find something for you two.
 
Mind you, this is a fort, so the best we’ll have will be in the officers’ quarters. We won’t have any, uh, luxury, boudoirs, my lord.”

Eros rolled his eyes in annoyance and was tempted to give the man a venereal disease, but thought better of it. “I’m sure that will be fine. Make it one with two beds.”
 

This surprised the man a bit, but he realized he was starting to anger Eros and tried to give the god what he needed quickly. “Up those stairs, room twenty-three,” he told them.

Eros, with his hand still on Aavi’s shoulder, turned and guided her up the stairs and along the second story balcony.
 

“What is a fort, really?”
 
Aavi asked. She kept hearing the word, but no one had actually explained what it meant.

Eros smiled as they walked.
 
“A fort is a place where armies train and prepare for battles. One is going to happen here soon.” He found Aavi’s questions amusing. She reminded him of the many nymphs and faeries he had sported with over the years, who also seemed to have little comprehension of the creations or activities of men and gods. He slowed down in front of a rough-hewn wooden door. “This is it.”

Aavi looked at the door and saw carvings, but they looked different from the ones she had seen on the door of Kafele’s home in the big pyramid. “Is that writing?
 
What does it say?” Aavi asked, pointing at the carvings on the door.

“Those are Roman numbers. They say ‘XXIII’ - and mean twenty three. Try to remember that, so you can find your way back here again.” Eros smirked. She was so naïve he could have told her it meant vomitorium just for the amusement of her telling all the soldiers that’s where she was staying. He was challenged not to laugh aloud as he opened the door.

Eros found the room met his requirements adequately. It had two beds, an extra chair and a small table. The plain wooden floors were scuffed, but the stone walls had been painted white which brightened the room. “I’ll let you get some rest,” Eros said to Aavi as she sat down on the bed. “I have duties for Zeus and I’ve wasted enough time saving D’Molay.”

Aavi looked at Eros as he moved to the door. It was harder for her to read the glows that surrounded the gods, but she was sure his flickered strangely whenever they spoke of D’Molay.
 
“Eros?
 
Can I ask you a question?”

“As long as you do it quickly. Just don’t ask me to make D’Molay fall in love with you. I just don’t see you two as a couple.” Oddly, he wasn’t sure why he felt that way about them. It was obvious they cared a great deal for each other.

Aavi was puzzled by his words. She thought she and D’Molay were a couple. Weren’t they together all the time? But that question she never asked. Instead, she moved on to what she really wanted to know. “When you look at D’Molay, there’s something you are worried about, besides him being hurt. What is it?”

Eros raised an eyebrow, surprised the girl had read him so accurately. He decided there was no harm in answering her. “Actually, I have something of his and he should have it back. But I don’t want to explain to him how I ended up with it. Do you know what I mean?”

Aavi tried to understand. She remained perplexed why so many things people did had to be hidden or lied about. The solution to Eros’s problem seemed simple, and Aavi offered it. “Could you give it to me? I promise I’ll return it to him.”

Eros folded his wing forward and removed something buried deep within his feathers. He handed her a metallic lump of something that looked burned. She could tell he was more than happy to get rid of it.

“It would be better if you just put it back where I found it.
 
I got it from his downstairs fireplace. Don’t even mention you have it. Just put it back. You are going back there after this battle is over, right?”

She looked up at him, unsure.

“Please do that if you can. It will be easier for him, and me, that way.” Visions of being scolded by the Council for sneaking into a Freeman’s domicile and then stealing from it flashed through his head. He probably wouldn’t get in a lot of trouble, but who needed the bother of going before the Council and wasting half a day answering pointed questions?

“I will. I’ll hide it in the bottom of our knapsack for now.” Aavi suddenly realized she was hiding something, just like regular people did. She wondered if this was deceitful. It was the first time she had ever not been sure if something she did was a lie, which struck her as odd.
 

“You have relieved me of an annoying burden and I appreciate it. But I have to go. Zephyrus is no doubt fuming at me already. I’m sure D’Molay will be fine. The healers here know what to do.”
 
Then he headed towards the door.

“Goodbye Eros, thank you so much for saving us.
 
Thank you for everything.”

Eros smiled slightly and nodded as he left.

D’Molay felt like he was floating and wondered if he was being carried off by death. The thought was neither frightening nor comforting. He had no strength left to spend on emotion. He had given in to the darkness, but the sensation of being placed upon a table brought D’Molay back to consciousness. He stared blearily at the ceiling as pungent smells and strange sounds swirled around him. He heard but one voice he recognized.

“You’ll do,” Zephyrus said as he grabbed a passing healer and pressed him against the table.
 
“This one’s important to the Council. Fix him”

As the healer reached down to investigate his wound, urgency seized D’Molay. “Aavi . . . where is she? We saw . . . Mayans invading.” His report ended in a moan as the healer fussed with the bandage he and Aavi had improvised.

“Mayans?
 
Did you see dragons?” Zephyrus gave D’Molay a sharp tap on the cheek to rouse him. D’Molay moved his head away from the god’s hand but kept talking.

“M . . . Mayans . . . dragons . . . air rafts. S-scouts on horses.” Then he spoke no more.

Zephyrus left to report this news to Ares as Ardelphian, the chief surgeon got up from the counter, followed by his three subordinates. They had been brewing medicines, but moved quickly toward the table to attend to the wounded man.

“Our first casualty?” asked Ardelphian of the priests who had brought the patient.

“No, the fighting hasn’t begun.” A very young priest stretched a kink out of his back, happy to be relieved of his burden. “Two gods brought this one in,” he said. “Panos told us you’re to treat him.”

“That was Zephyrus the wind who just left. He came with Eros, the lord of passions,” the other priest told him. This priest was a decade older, but still youthful. He massaged his palms where the bite of the stretcher’s handles had made impressions. “You’d better give him the finest treatment, considering who brought him here.”

“Of course,” Ardelphian said, clapping his hands. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint the gods. Or his majesty Panos, for that matter.” His helpers laughed, while the priests looked like they wished to join in the mocking, but did not dare.

The healers were practiced at their art, and so it took no direction from Ardelphian to set them into motion. With expert eyes and skilled hands, they sized up D’Molay’s injury and ran back and forth from their stores to retrieve instruments and potions. Ardelphian stood watching with the priests, allowing the other healers to demonstrate their skills while he held his own talents in reserve. The younger priest turned pale as D’Molay’s blood-soaked bandages were peeled free.