The Ippos King (Wraith Kings #3) - Grace Draven Page 0,105
“He betrayed Chamtivos by giving us a knife that allowed us to make weapons. He also argued against the hunt at his own personal risk. And his presence here means he managed not to participate in the hunt despite Chamtivos's disapproval.” She glanced at Karulin who watched them intently. “If what I observed is correct, he's as esteemed among Chamtivos's followers as Chamtivos was. Even more so I think, because as you say, he's a more reasonable man.” A saner one too.
Cuama returned Karulin's regard just as intently. “With Chamtivos no longer an obstacle, we might finally achieve peace for this valley. Karulin is our prisoner for now, but his value to us may be in his freedom.”
“I ask clemency for him in gratitude for his help,” she said.
“Noted, and you'll have the chance to defend him to the abbot when we reach the monastery.”
While the monks dismantled the remainder of the camp, confiscated weapons and horses, and prepared the prisoners for a march to the monastery, Anhuset checked Megiddo who lay undisturbed in the wagon, then Serovek's stallion. Magas had trumpeted a greeting upon seeing his master, great hooves stamping the ground as he yanked on the lead line that tethered him to the ground stake.
The stallion eye-rolled when she approached, snorting a warning. Anhuset kept out of reach so as not to be nipped or kicked. He'd not acted this way before with her, but she was splattered in blood not her own and reeking of death. A careful visual inspection revealed that except for a flay mark across his left flank, likely inflicted during Chamtivos's initial attack, he was unharmed. Serovek had worried for Magas, and Anhuset was glad she could tell him all was well with his beloved horse.
Their party split into two groups. The smaller of the two included Anhuset, Serovek, and Megiddo, all sharing the wagon. Serovek lay beside his bespelled comrade on a bedding of blankets. There wasn't enough room for a third person in the wagon bed or Anhuset would have sat beside him for the remainder of the trip. Instead she recovered the gelding she'd ridden during their trip and paced alongside the wagon, ahead of Magas who followed docilely behind, tied to the rear hitch. They left behind the larger party with the prisoners and the dead.
Before they left, Anhuset paused in front of Karulin. “The monks know,” she told him. His fellow prisoners eyed her with suspicion and Karulin with puzzlement. They were unaware of what he'd done for her, and she kept her remarks enigmatic and open to assumption. She kept her remarks enigmatic so he could choose what to reveal to the others. “What's given in fairness is repaid in gratitude. There will be no debt.”
He stared at her for several moments, expression guarded. “One who equals three,” he finally said. “You're a credit to your people. Farewell, Kai woman.”
The second leg of their journey seemed even more interminable, but they made it to the monastery belonging to the Jeden Order of Nazim monks.
Cuama kept her distracted during the trip with a history of the monastery. “The old scrolls say the Gullperi built it for one of their gods,” he said. “When the Gullperi abandoned it, the forest swallowed it whole in vines. Supposedly a sorcerer stumbled upon it and cleared away the foliage.” He gave a disbelieving sniff. “When you see the monastery, you'll probably think that unlikely. I suspect it's more a matter of treasure hunters came to explore and loot, with a few of them getting roasted by Elder magic for their curiosity.”
His remark emphasized the potency of Elder magic still lingering in Gullperi holy places. Powerful, sometimes lethal magic. Anhuset had witnessed it firsthand atop the tor when Brishen invoked a necromantic spell to turn himself and four others into the deathless Wraith kings. It didn't surprise her that the same power pooled latent in an ancient Gullperi temple.
Cuama was right to predict her disbelief in the notion that one man had freed the monastery from its venial prison. Its size alone made that impossible.The majestic structure rose from the valley floor in a series of rose granite walls that blushed pink in the sunlight. The Gullperi had carved it straight out of a hillside, a tribute of colossal arches, soaring columns and decorative flourishes made for a forgotten god. Strange symbols etched into the granite decorated its façade, and the temple towered above the tallest trees carpeting the valley floor.