The Conqueror (9 page)

Under the rug was sand, dirt, dung,
decayed cobwebs, dead animals, and above all else, dead bats and
the droppings of tens of thousands of their living brethren. The
bats, hanging in their clumps and rows above and all around, were
the least of her problems. Broad daylight outside as it was, the
bats weren’t going anywhere for a while, although their noise was
fairly irritating. Blinded by the torches, they were hanging on for
dear life. For that Eleanora was grateful.

While any thinking person knew what an
echo was and how it was propagated, this place had always been
thought to be sacred. It was all she could do, to tell herself that
it was all nonsense and that there was nothing to be feared. Proper
forms would be observed, and if the gods were not appeased then
hopefully public opinion would. Simply put, she was Queen and the
moral responsibility lay with no other.

Theodelinda took her cloak and Eleanora
slipped out of her thin white cotton shift, letting it fall to the
ground. 

Her body had been shaved, from head to
toe. Her skin burned with the cleanliness of it, shining red in the
glare of the flames when she looked down at herself, suddenly
self-conscious. All she wore were her sandals and a garland of
daisies around her head, her long, fine red hair intertwined and
holding it in place. Her toes were a reminder that she was as human
as anyone in the final analysis. No one was more fallible than the
Queen, for all things rode on her shoulders.

When I fall, everything
falls.

The perfumes she wore clogged the nose,
they were so strong, and yet it gave a life to the place, dead and
dark and full of dimly-perceived creeping things that squeaked and
rustled and moved about in the detritus of the cave floor. Even as
she looked dubiously at her sandaled feet, a large beetle, with
sparkling green shimmers on his back, ducked under a dead leaf
which quivered and crackled with barely perceptible
sound. 

Her entire body had been oiled from
head to foot and most of her hair was tied in a rope that fell
straight down her back. She was white, white from chalk and gypsum
powder. She was chill, and yet thankful that as yet no sweat had
run down and spoiled her perfection.

There was the High Priestess, eyes as
black as coals, looking solemn as she poured out a cup of blood and
wine. She set that aside on a small, one-legged stick-in table.
Taking a vial slung on a string around her neck, she opened it and
took a pinch of fine, charcoal-grey powder and put it into the
chalice. She then sprinkled the same incense into each flaming
sconce. She took one smaller torch, which had been sticking in the
ground at her feet, and lit it from a wall torch. She brought the
cup to Theodelinda, similarly prepared all in white body chalk, and
the obvious choice to accompany her Queen.

“
Are you pure of heart?”
Those dark eyes studied first Theodelinda, and then Eleanora.
“Speak now.”

The woman stepped back, for it was out
of her hands now.

“
Yes,
Priestess.”

Those eyes took in Theo.

“
Yes, Mother. Our hearts
are pure.”

“
Very well. Listen closely,
for the voices say many things, and not all of them are meant for
you.”

She eyed Theo strangely for a
moment.

Eleanora nodded. Theo
nodded. All she had to do was hold the torch, and presumably,
listen to the echoes, which were thought to be dead people speaking
from the other side of the wall of death. Why they would ever want
to come
here,
to
such a dismal place was a good question, but of course it was
supposedly the door to the underworld. It was a bad idea to laugh
hysterically, thought Theo, but what if I can’t help it? She
couldn’t help but note the thin edge of fear tickling the insides
of her belly. Ellie looked a million times worse, like a rabbit
confronted by the coyote.

Eleanora was as ready as she was ever
going to get.

She’d been through this once before, as
a little girl when all females of noble birth were
initiated.

There were other initiates as well, but
their path was longer and based solely on merit. The woman before
her now was just such a one, purely a commoner and yet with the
most comprehensive mind—and few had ever doubted or questioned her
right to a position that most did not envy and few had ever aspired
to. Eleanora certainly hadn’t.

“
Drink, my
child.”

Theo’s eyes were big and round and with
a bit of white showing where it normally shouldn’t.

Eleanora took the cup from her
cousin.

Eleanora lifted the stained wooden
chalice, the smell stinging her nose like pure vinegar. The stuff
wasn’t quite as bad as might have been expected, although there was
quite a kick to it. There was even a vaguely dry, burgundy grape
taste somewhere in there. She handed it off to Theo, not even
looking at her. She was looking forward, into the red and black
tunnel before her, ridges of seamed and eroded rock looking putrid
and organic in the flickering and guttering torches.

No, this dark underworld of secrets and
incantations was quite outside of her interest. Let them have it,
she thought, as the woman nodded in approval, taking the cup from
Theodelinda and looking at Eleanora in assessment.

This was in stark contrast
to other kings and queens, who were seemingly intent on engrossing
every kind of power. For Eleanora to conduct the chorus in song,
make the sacrifice or lead the people in prayer was almost
unthinkable. At least in her own mind.
Hades
, it was almost laughable. And
yet she had told Lowren that she needed to do this—and for some
reason it was more than just a delaying tactic.

Maybe there was something to be learned
here after all. At one time, when she was a child, all of this had
meant something to her unformed self. It still meant something to a
lot of people. Had it really been so long then?

The Priestess took a massive breath,
threw her head back, and bellowed out into the darkness.

“
So long as your intentions
are good, as long as your spirit is pure, as long as your thoughts
are clean and your motives are inspired by love, then you may
enter. Beware, all of those who are unworthy.”

The effect was astonishing, as a
thousand voices, in different tones and even languages it seemed,
repeated back and forth and all around and swam all the wrong way
inside of her head. The babble of voices and people and animal
sounds and waves crashing and thunder and lightning and trees
splitting asunder swelled, fell away and swelled again. It became
more and more incoherent with each crest.

The echoes in the Cave of Sighs fell to
a dull roar, and Eleanora found the courage to speak.

“
Thank you,
Mother.”

The Priestess’ eyes were black pools in
the torchlight as she opened the wicker basket and pulled out the
first of their special breed of snakes, all-white and with darting
red tongues and black eyes.

While everyone assured her they were
completely harmless, there was that sickening lurch in the guts,
and it wasn’t just the snake—it was the sudden realization that you
were completely naked.

There was something primeval and
atavistic in that fear. It was the fear of violation.

Eleanora took one, holding it up and
away from her, trying not to squeeze it to death with her tight
grip around the neck. It was horrid when the creature curled around
her forearm. It wasn’t the snake’s fault she was afraid of it. It
was her problem. A helper gave her the other one as the Priestess
and her acolytes nodded in approval. They went silent and then
began a dull, throbbing chant that belied its coming forth from the
throats of women. Their helper quickly rejoined on the end of the
line, picking up on the beat and now apparently ignoring the royal
ladies if that was possible.

The echoes swelled and strengthened,
becoming a roar again.

It was like drums beating in her head,
and her body tingled all over as a sudden wave of fear swept over
her.

She took a deep breath, as there was no
backing out now. She was just being silly. It was just a dirty old
cave full of bat droppings and in a half-hour or so they would be
able to come out. With a little luck, they would never have to do
it again.

The Priestess raised her hands and the
chorus fell silent.

“
Begin.”

Eleanora began speaking the ancient
words in the ancient tongue, as it was used all those eons ago, and
with Theodelinda and her torch throwing her crazy black shadows
every which way, she slowly led off with measured steps, following
the rose petals into the darkest recesses of the
unknown.

O
Gaia
Matrem
totius mundi
Neptunus et
Pater omnium
fugasset
Nudus
sumus coram
te,
Nos
filii Dei
verbum
Sequimur
per semitas iustitiae
Inquisitores
in via
sumus,
Iuppiter
Pater
, de sapientia,
Et
petimus
, et inveniamus
Rogamus
et
nos
accipere
Gratias Deo pro
munere
tuo,
Et amor qui
cadit
, et stellas.

Oh, Gaia, Mother of all the
World

And Neptune, Father of all
the Seas

Naked we stand before
thee

We are the children of the
word

We follow the paths of
righteousness

We are seekers of the
path

Jupiter, Father of
Wisdom

We seek and we shall
find

We ask and we
receive

We are grateful for thy
bounty

And the love that falls
from the stars.

This part was different. As little
children, the Priestess and a party of initiates had held their
hands and been with them in the forbidding darkness. She couldn’t
quite locate the place where they had actually stopped, although
the memory seemed quite firm and detailed.

This time, they were entirely on their
own, and perhaps that was fitting enough considering their rank and
position.

If you couldn’t get through a silly
little ceremony like this, then you were obviously not very suited
to the work.

At least that’s what Eleanora told
herself as the chant started anew, and the ceiling lowered, the
sides narrowed, and then they were at the first corner.

With a quick pause for breath, she kept
speaking. To the eyes of those watching from behind, they quickly
went out of sight.

***

They were following a single passage,
thankfully one with no openings to left or right. The way was
marked by more white rose petals underfoot and Theo thought she
could even catch the odd whiff of them.

In front, Eleanora had to contend with
her own shadow throwing everything into the harshest possible
relief and the evil sublimity of the two wriggling serpents,
outlined and highlighted by the dancing glare of the
torch.

Her breathing was labored and she was
fighting to control it. Her nipples were fully erect and hard as a
rock.

Her skin tingled. The temperature had
dropped as quickly as her fears had mounted. Cold grit from
underfoot had gotten between her toes and she was all too aware of
her nakedness.

“
Oh, my.”

The walls opened out and the top of the
passage lifted and then the light was swallowed up by
blackness.

Theo’s voice startled her.

“
There are people who would
pay good money to see this.”

Eleanora laughed out loud, turning to
give Theo an appraising look.

“
I mean the
cave.”

The queen laughed again, thankful that
they had always had each other.

The rose petals ended abruptly. Their
instructions were clear. There appeared to be steam hanging in the
air about them.

Theodelinda looked to her left. There
was a rock, rising up from a bed of gravel and stones, oddly clean
for something this deep in bat heaven. It had been recently swept
and washed, she thought. As per instruction, she mounted the rock
and held the torch aloft.

Eleanora took one last look and nodded
firmly. She had a sneaking suspicion, going by sound and some odd
reflections, that there was water up ahead, or maybe just some kind
of shiny bits in the local stone. There must be walls out there
somewhere. Her heart pounded in her chest, making itself known in
an urgent manner.

She had to slide a foot forward, and
then the other. The eyes took a while to adjust to the
dimness.

Something glittered, and as she
advanced, the guttering flame of the torch, and Theo’s loud
breathing fell away. Her hands were sweaty where the snakes hung,
still wriggling enthusiastically if ineffectually.