14ish

Zula felt soothed by the rocking of the platform as the desha made its waty across the desert. The birth had been a week ago, but she still felt tired to her very bones. She made sure that Mado was secure in the little box, cradled between the cushions, then closed her eyes.

She felt the clay move under the steady pressure of her fingers; it slipped and smoothed itself into the subtleties of her design, and she smiled. Just a few more days, and the statue would be done. It stood before her, tall and powerful, the figure of a man. His fingers gripped the hilt of a sword, and he stood proudly. Her fingers traced down the line of the statue’s back, creating the small valley where the skin clung to the spine, and smoothed away the prints of her fingers. She smiled again, satisfied with the back of the figure.

She moved around to the front of the man, and began to sculpt a face onto the featureless head. Her hands squeezed the malleable clay into high cheekbones, firm lips, and gently rounded eyes. As she lowered her hands, the eyes opened, and look at her; they were orbs of green fire, and she stood rooted to the spot. The statues hands came up, and, letting the sword clatter to the floor, closed around her throat. She screamed, and the dream disappeared in a flash of green fire.

She woke to find herself sitting straight up; Mado was crying, and the face of a servant peered starteled through the curtains. “Are you alright, my lady? Your husband heard you cry out, and sent me to check on you…” His voice trailed off, and Zula blushed deeply. “Yes, thank you, I just had a dream. It was nothing.” She ran her hands over her hair, trying to straighten the chali that had been knocked askew.

The servant nodded, and withdrew. Zula exhaled, and found that her hands were shaking. She reached over, and picked up Mado, holding her close and muttering softly to her. The baby continued to cry, so Zula held her to her breast, and nursed her. After a moment, the infant’s cries ceased, and she sucked contentedly. The enclosed room was almost unbearably hot, so when Mado had finished, Zula unlaced the ties that held the four sides of the platform together, and drew back gthe heavy curtains. The caravan had stopped at a small oasis, consisting of little more than a pond with a few palm trees. The sun shone down on the sands, and a breeze blew through the compartment. Mushad was standing by the pond, supervising the building of a fire and the cooking of dinner; he looked up at her, and grinning broadly, waved. Zula returned the gesture, thinking with a smile that her husband’s teeth were almost as blindly white as the sands under the noonday sun.

Their meal was small, and they ate it in the sparse shade of the palms. When the sunk had sunk another span towards the horizon, they remounted their rides, and continued the journey. The caravan moved forward through the night. It was only when the moons began to sink towards the horizon that Mushad called again, bringing the caravan to a halt. “We sleep now, while ------ holds sway during the dark of the night.” After assigning guard duty, Mushad climbed up into the litter to sleep with Zula and Mado, leaving the rest of the entourage to see to their own sleeping arrangements. The night air was chill, and he drew the curtains in tightly around them, and covered Zula with two thick furs. “After all,” he smiled, “it would be embarrassing to reach the city, and be standing in the temple, and be attacked with sneezes because of a chill. Mado would never forgive you for embarrassing her at her first public appearance.” Zula smiled, and curled close to him.

“Mushad,” she spoke quietly.

“Yes?” he asked, without opening his eyes.

“What will we do about her hair? She cannot be swaddled at the temple, and I am afraid for what may happen”

Mushad nodded, and with a sigh, opened his eyes. “That is why I had Nost bring this.” He reached into a bag, and held up a long shining blade of bronze. “I think we can shave her head without anyone noticing, provided that we are careful, and do not scrape her skin. After all, many babies are born bald, and no-one will think anything of it.” Zula sighed, her body releasing its tension, and relaxed bakc into the cushions. "Thank you. I am very glad you thought of it." He held her close, and they slept through the moonless hours.

As soon as the first rays of the sun lightened the sky, Mushad was up and about, stirring the fire, wakening the servants, and preparing the caravan for the final leg of the voyage. He doled out dried fruits and bread for breakfast, and then carefuly scooped sand over the remains of the fire.

The caravan resumed its journey, and as the sun rose higer, a shining city came into view on the horizon. Mushad called a short halt, and climbed into the canopied platform. Rousing Zula, he tied back the curtains so that she could see. "See, my dear, this is Perzelsis, the most beautiful gem of Kedon. You can traverse the whole length and breadth of Kedon and never find a city so large, nor so beautiful."

Zula smiled at his enthusiasm, but couldn't help taking a sharp breath as her eyes scanned the city skyline. Large temples of stone rose into the air, spires tipped with metals that shone like red fire in the light of the sun. The stones of the city were grey, unlike the warm sandstone of her home, and the polsihed face of the rock threw back reflected light onto the buildings around it. She ahd never seen a metropolic before, and imagined that she could hear the noise of the marketplace. with so many people, it must be a deafening sound.

The caravan moved slowly across the sands, and the city seemed to spring up from the sands. As the neared the boundaries of the city, more deshas and caravans joined them until they all merged into the flow of traffic through the city gate. The gate itself was made of the same grey stone, with giant panels of bronze inset into either side. The panels were inscribed in the languages of all known races: on the left side of the gates was a warning to all enemies of Perzelsis, and on the right was inscribed a welcome to all friends.

They passed under the arch of the gate, and passed through the streets, hooves on the deshas making a harsh clack on the paving stones. On either side, she could see dwelling places and little stores; as they got closer to the heart of the city the shacks became houses, and the houses became mansions. The shops began as little more than wares displayed on slabs of wood, but slowly became small stands, then stroefronts, and finally large establishments, with what she assumed were store rooms in the back.

The streets were small, and their progress was slow at first, but the suide streets began to divert streams of traffic to other parts of the city, and their progression quickened. Finally, the caravan stopped at a small inn near the middle of the city, and Mushad helped Zula down from the litter, clutching Mado. She quickly adjust her chali, and drew the small veil across her face. The women she had seen in the streets had seemed like exotic birds; their clothing was brightly colored, and free of the sand that always seemed to cling to her own garments. She felt very small and out of place, and was glad when Mushad ushered her in to a small room in the inn.

"We can only stay this one night, I'm afraid. I wish that it could be more, you need to rest, but I need to be back to my ships soon." He bustled around the room, arranging their bags and blankets, and Zula smiled hbehind her veil. "Dear one, you don't have to hide anything from me. I know that you are a small merchant in this city, and we can only stay one night because we can only afford one night."

Mushad pretended not to hear her for a moment, then sighed, and nodded. "It's true, of course. My business makes me a rich man in our little village of Kemal, but in this city, I am only a small trademan from the outer villages." He busied himself with the blaknets on the bed, and Zula's heart went out to him. She stood, and walked quietly over to him; she placed a hand on his heart, and leaned againt his shoulder. "You are a good man, Mushad. When my father told me that I was to be married to a rich man, I was so afraid. I thought you would be cruel, or cold, or worse, terribly old." He laughed briefly, and she continued. "But you are the love of my life, and you provide for me better than I could have ever hoped for, being the daughter of a poor man, and without dowry. I still don't know why you wanted a young frightened girl instead of a woman from the houses that wished to join their fortune with yours, but I thank Semla every day that it happened."

Mado made a sleepy burp, and Zula held her up to Mushad. "And look, all of that has brought this beautiful creature into the world. You give me love, happiness, a grand life, and the most beautiful child in the world, and you are grieved because we cannot prudently spend two nights in an inn in the over-crowded city?"

Mushad smiled again, looking down at Mado; he took her and Zula into his arms, and the three of them stood there for a moment in perfect silence. Then the clatter of the servants was heard in the hall, and it was time to prepare for the temple ceremony.

Zula thought she had never seen so many babies. She had never believed that there could be so many children born in a city in a month, no matter how many people lived in the city. The families all crowded into the main audience room of the temple, awaiting the priest. The air was filled with the cries of the children, and the odd smells that arose from such a diverse crowd. The richest familes had a balcony that ran around the ceiling, just under the dome, but all the other families were crowded together below, regardless of social station. Zula shifted her feet, trying to find a way of standing that was comfortable. Her ankles still felt swollen and achy, and standing for any length of time was uncomfortable.

With a flash of gold cloth, the priest appeared on the dias at the front of the room, and held up his hands for silence. Immediately all sound ceased except for the whimpering of a few of the infants.

“What do you ask of the great god?” He demanded, voice ringing through the domed room.

“We ask his blessing upon our children, that they might be strong and healthy.” The words arising form so many mouths at once was thunderous, and the echoes bounced off the ceiling and reverberated against the walls.

“What will you offer in return for his blessing?”

Each father held up a token of his offering; Mushad held up a large roll of fabric—there was more that would be offered to the temple itself, but this was for the god himself.

Accolytes moved quickly through the crowd, gathering the offerings, and laying them at the feet of the priest. The materials were piled into a stack in the center of the altar; when they were finished, the priest and acolytes stepped back. The priest’s voice rose again in an eerie chant: “Let Sembla look on the offerings, and bless those for whom they are given!”

A creaking sound filled the room, and Zula looked around for the source of the noise. She heard a gasp from a beggar woman beside her; the woman was staring at the top of the dome. Zula cast her eyes upward and saw the great oculos at the center of the dome twist, directing a bright beam of light down the walls.

“The great god sees! He turns his eye upon his unworthy worshippers!” The chant was joined by the acolytes and rose into a frenzied pitch. The circle of light traced its way down the wall, and came to rest on the offerings. In a few moments, smoke rose from the pile, and the priest threw handfuls of incense into the light. The sweet smell mixed with the smoke and circulated throughout the room.

Suddenly a flame leapt from the top of the offerings; in a few moments, the fire had spread to the entire stack, and was devouring it all. Zula could feel the heat radiating from the front of the room.

A wall of flames surrounding an altar

Blond hair mixing with fire

The smell of oil and wine burning

Lights on the walls

The altar cracks, the walls fall

Zula’s knees buckled; she could feel herself falling, but could do nothing to stop it. Mushad caught her swiftly, and steadied her and Mado. “Are you well??” She nodded, and regained her footing. “Just a little swoon, I think. I will be fine.” But it took all of her strength to last through the end of the blessing.

When they were back at the inn, getting ready for bed, Mushad turned to her. “What happened in the temple today? You shouted at something I could not see, then you went limp. I didn’t think I would be able to catch you in time.”

Zula brushed her hair with a bone comb, and was silent a moment. Then, she turned to her husband, and said quietly, “I think I had a vision today. I do not know what it means, but it has happened before; I seem to remember things that I know have never happened to me. Today it was a sacrifice, of a terrible sort.” She shuddered, remembering the look on the face of the girl with blond hair, hair that burned.

Mushad sat upon the bed, not sure how to respond to such a claim. He respected the seeresses, and had even consulted with them concerning propitious times for doing business, but he did not like the thought that his wife might be graced with such a dangerous gift form the god. He did not doubt her sincerity, and that worried him more than anything else.

Finally, he forced a smile, and turned back to face Zula. Her eyes burned with a dark intensity, and her black hair tumbled loose over her shoulders. “Well, perhaps you have been given visions. And perhaps it is simply some odd effect of the pregnancy. My own mother used to crave the strangest foods when she was pregnant with my younger sisters; this may be no more than that. And if it is, the god will make it clear to us, and will show you what you are to do with it. Now, come to bed. You have had a very long day today, and it is time that you rested.”

As the stars shone in through the high window, their light reflected in Mushad’s eyes. It was the dark of the night, and still he could not sleep. He could not believe his own words of the evening before, and kept dwelling on Zula’s vision. What could it mean? And why would the god choose her for such a burden?

He slipped out of the bed, and knelt before the open window. “Great god,” he whispered, “you protected my dear Zula when she was in the agony of birth, and granted me the most beautiful daughter in the world. One more thing I ask of you; do not grant my Zula any more visions. She is a wife, and a mother. She cannot be a seeress as well. Give the visions to my daughter if you must, but not to her.” He prostrated himself on the sandy floor, and prayed silently until the first light of dawn colored the sky.