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Check out a deleted scene from @amberargyle's Summer Queen. http://amberargyle.blogspot.com/2015/04/deleted-scene-from-summer-queen.html #mustreadmonday #authorRT #indieauthor #BookWorm #fantasy
It wasn’t everyday the king came to the holy city of Thanjavar. Nelay and Jezzel took the lead, as they were the highest ranking acolytes in the compound. They bypassed the temple, with its grand arches and onion domes, moving to the gate manned by a guard with a red and yellow jacket and bell trousers.
He opened it for them seamlessly
and they passed the open-air worship chambers and stepped into the courtyard,
with its circle of eternal flames rising up much like a fountain of water
would.
Suka was waiting for them, her eyes
pausing on Nelay before sweeping across the rest of the acolytes in their
finery. “Let’s show the king what the best Priestesses in the kingdom can do.”
She hastened out without another
word, the Priestesses right behind her, with Nelay and the other acolytes
following. The temple was inside the expansive palace grounds, though it had
its own entrance to the city. The high priestesses in white fanned out across
the wide palace stairs while Nelay and the other acolytes lined the walkway as
they had practiced a thousand times before.
The drums sounded and Nelay lifted
her staff into the ready position, above her head and poised to strike. The
drums rolled and the enormous gates rolled open.
The King moved into the palace
grounds atop a bay charger, his Immortal Soldiers in a phalanx around him. The
first two acolytes dipped their staffs’ soaked, padded end into the bowls of
flame at either end of the door.
This set of the chain reaction.
Each acolyte touching her staff to the woman next to her as the king came level
with them, and then they began their intricate battle dance. Swinging their
staffs in formations that were elegant and deadly with flames dancing about
their bodies, close enough to feel the heat but not close enough to burn.
Their clothes were dyed in deep
read that shifted to yellow and then white at the top, so they looked like spinning
flames.
Nelay held her position across from
Jezzel as the King came closer and closer. She watched him with her peripheral
vision, noting that his beard was long and he was shirtless.
That’s all she could make out
before he came even with her and her staff was lit. She whirled it about her
and sprang into motion, lighting the shallow channels of stone that had been
filled with a viscous flammable paste called fiall, which burned slow, but gave
off different colored flames.
The fire spread across in intricate
patterns until climbing elevated channels which curled in patterns similar to
the tattoos Nelay wore on her scalp.
Nelay and Jezzel raced the flames,
reaching the palace doors just as the King came level with them. They stuck
their whirling staffs into cauldrons of fiall and flames spread in special
channels carved into the rock frame as the doors were pushed open.
The acolytes came in just behind Nelay
and Jezzel as they lit more cauldrons and set fire to more channels built into
the walls. One by one, each acololyte went still as they took their original
places, until the king sat on his throne with flames dancing all around him.
Nelay and Jezzel twirled their
staffs in perfect unison before slamming both ends onto the ground just as he
sat. Nelay’s heart was pounding and sweat ran in beads down her bare back.
She looked up, taking in her
surroundings for the first time and saw the King watching her. Suka stood
beside him, leaning and speaking in his ear.
Looking angry, the King motioned
for Suka to step back. She did, proclaiming, “The King has arrived at the
Winter Palace!”
A deafening cheer rose up as the
king’s court clapped and cheered. There was no mention of the fact that the
king was three months early. Or that he’d been forced to retreat here because
the Summer Palace had fallen to the Clansmen’s armies.
The King stood, the heavy golden
phoenix amulet across his chest catching the light from the fires. “As always,
the temple of fire proves themselves the most skilled fire dancers in the
entire Kingdom,” as he said this, his eyes strayed again to Nelay. “The flame
of Idara has returned to Thanjavar. May ever it burn!”
“Burn on!” the people called back.
The king sat down and servants
flooded the room with fire baked bread which they threw like discs into the
crowd.
Suka tapped her staff and the
acolytes dropped their position. Jezzel came immediately to Nelay’s side.
“He’s been watching you,” Jezzel
whispered. “And he looks angry. What did you do?”
Nelay didn’t have to ask who Jezzel
meant. She could still feel the king’s eyes upon her. “Me?” Nelay said,
incredulous. “If anyone’s done anything, it’s you.”
In truth, Nelay had nothing to fear
from the king. The Priestesses were not his subjects, they belonged to the
Goddess of Fire. But still, his interest made her uneasy.
“And risk my chances of being
Liason, I don’t think so.”
There had been a time when Jezzel
and Nelay had been the bitterest of rivals. Both were ambitious, rather
brilliant, and best of everything. And then after a particularly nasty fight,
Jezzel had hissed that they couldn’t both be the Priestess Liason. Nelay had
laughed. She wanted to be the high Priestess, not liason.
In that moment, they realized that
working together, no one would be able to stop them. Their alliance had lead to
friendship, which had developed into a fierce loyalty.
Nelay’s gaze swept carefully across
the room. She stopped when she saw one of the younger soldiers. He was not an
immortal, just one of the palace guards. But Tanzer had a pretty face, and a
way of knowing far more than he should. Which is why she had employed him as a
spy years ago.
She made the sign that she wanted
to speak with him and left the palace, Jezzel forced behind her because of the
press of the crowd. Hands reached out, asking for her blessing. Nelay gave it
as often as she was asked. Pressing three fingers to their foreheads and
saying, “Fire burn in your bosom.” It promised many things, life, passion,
ambition, success.
Nelay stepped outside the open
doors. It was pleasant out now, no longer cold and not yet hot. Nelay breathed
a sigh of relief to feel the wind across her sweaty skin. She and Jezzel
crossed the palace grounds and entered the upper city market. They headed
straight for the cumfa tables, where they specialized in thick black liquid
made from the cumfa root.
Nelay didn’t really like the stuff,
but it was the best excuse she could come up with for her regular visits into
the market, though the proprietor always provided lavender tea instead.
She got up as she always did to
visit the privy, but instead of going out back, she stepped into the kitchen,
which was hot and steamy.
Tazner was waiting for her. She
wanted to come right out and ask him what he knew, but Tazner was one of her
more finicky spies. More important to him than money was that she stroked his
ego. “You’re looking dashing in your uniform.”
“Care to see what’s inside?” He
shot her a cocky grin that she knew cause other girls hearts to melt.
Nelay wasn’t other girls. “You know
Priestesses don’t have relationships with men.”
He took a step toward her.
“Relationships, no. But dalliances, frequently.”
She tipped her head to the side.
“Ah, but you deserve better than a mere dalliance, Tazner.”
He rested the point of his shoulder
on the wall beside her, his posture the very picture of ease. “It wouldn’t get
much better than a dalliance with you, Nelay.”
Nelay dropped her voice to a
throaty whisper. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to peak so soon into manhood, would
I?”
He threw his head back and laughed,
and Nelay knew she’d paid her price without having to give him a single
coin—she’d stroked his ego and made him laugh. The money was a mere formality
now.
Tazner shook his head. “My brother
in the Immortals says the king didn’t want to come to Thanjavar. He wanted to
stay with his armies in Dalarta and Arcina, but someone convinced him to come
back.”
“Who?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know.”
“Why?”
He grinned lazily at her. “Don’t
know that either.”
She narrowed her eyes in thought.
What could be more important to the king than fighting a war that had already
cost him half the kingdom? “What about the Hansi Province?” Her father and
mother still lived on the outskirts. In letter after letter, she’d begged them
to come to Thanjavar, had sent them nearly every silver she had, but they had
refused. “Nothing new.”
She sighed. “All right. If you find
out anymore, I’ll be here tomorrow after the morning training.”
She pressed a silver into his hand
and turned to go, but he captured her wrist and held on. She looked up at him
as he leaned in dangerously close. “Are you ever going to give in to me?”
She patted his cheek. “And ruin all
your other girlfriend’s hearts? I’m not that cruel.”
Just as she turned to away, her
reached over and cupped her cheek. Before she could process what he’d done,
he’d kissed her mouth. There was none of the hunger she’d expected from a man
like Tazner, only gentleness. “I would give them all up for you,” he said
earnestly.
Without another word, he slipped
out the backdoor. Nelay stood in shock before slowly shaking her head. Pushing
the heavy door, she stepped back into the pavillion. Jezzel was leaning back in
her chair with her arms folded across her chest.
Nelay sat down, but before she
could say a word, Jezzel grunted. “Tazner was looking very satisfied with
himself just now.”
Nelay grunted. Men like Tazner
treated women like toys—something to play with. She had more ambition than to
ever settle for a man like that. “He wouldn’t know what to do with me if I ever
allowed him to catch me.”
“Ah, but he’s pretty.” Jezzel said
between sips. “And it might be fun.”
Nelay didn’t bother responding.
“What did you find out?”
Between the two of them, they had a
network of spies in nearly every level of government. They also had loyalty
accumulated over years of service. And promises of support without any
questions asked. Such a network was vital if Nelay was to challenge Suka for
the title of High Priestess once her training was over.
Jezzel leaned over her mug of
cumfa. As opposed to Nelay, she loved the stuff. “Someone convinced the king to
come to back to Thanjavar.” She sat back, a jealous glint in her eyes. “Who has
that kind of clout?” she asked.
“There are three ways to force
someone to do what you want.” She counted them off on her fingers. “Threats,
bribes, and loyalty. The king is the law, so a threat would be pointless.” Nelay
looked past the busy market to the green of the high mountains in the distance.
She squinted, not really seeing anything. “And the king is loyal to no one over
himself.” That the king would die horribly if the kingdom fell did not need to
be stated. “So that leaves some kind of bribe.”
“But who would have something so
powerful in their possession.”
Nelay growled in frustration. “What
did your maid say?”
Jezzel passed the note. “Only that
the King brought his mistress and their children with him and it looks like
they’ll be staying indefinitely. She didn’t think the king would stay long.”
Nelay let out a drawn out breath.
“Perhaps we’re overthinking it. Perhaps he simply came to deliver his mistress
safely from the fighting lines.”
“And leave the army?” Jezzel didn’t
look convinced.
Nelay perused the childish scrawl
before glancing outside. The wind had completely died, the calm before the ovat
took over, bringing with it the unbearable heat off the desert. She finished
the last of her tea. “It won’t be long before the wind changes. Come on.”
Jezzel rested her hand on Nelays to
stop her. “Any word from the man you sent after your family?”
Nelay let out a frustrated breath.
She’d sent letters after her parents, demanding they flee their small sheep
ranch and head into Dalarta, but her father had refused to leave the land that
had been in their family for generations.
Finally, Nelay had simply hired a
handful of mercenaries and a handler to retrieve her parents, regardless of
what they wanted. If all was according to plan, her parents should be on their
way to Thanjavar even now.
They left the shop and moved toward
the temple entrance. One of the guards, who were always very pretty to look at,
stepped in front of her. “Acolyte Nelay, you are to report to your rooms and
not leave until the temple servants come for you.”
She stopped short. “Why?”
The guard bowed. “I was not told,
Acolyte.”
She and Jezzel exchanged glances. Besides
the few times Nelay had been caught sneaking out of the temple grounds after
curfew, she’d only ever been confined to her room before an advancement in her
status.
“Are they making you a full
priestess?” Jezzel asked. That was the last step in Nelay had left to take.
She slowly shook her head. “They
wouldn’t do it today, not with the king coming.”
Glancing around, Nelay pulled
Jezzel out of earshot. “We’re missing something. Something big.”
Jezzel bit her lip and looked
around before leaning closer. The two stared at each other, and Nelay was
suddenly glad she’d been acquiring an underground network since she was nine,
when she decided she would be the next high prestess, that she needed to build
a network. “Get everyone in motion. Let’s see what we can find out.”
Chapter
Jezzel pushed the door open,
letting in a blast of heat from the Ovat. She stood panting, her clothes
stained with sweat. She’d been gone for hours.
With nothing else to do, Nelay had
taken a nap, as she always did during the ovat. “What did you find out?”
Jezzel’s mouth thinned. “The King’s
mistress, her name is Zayid, one of the maids found her in her rooms sobbing.
Without a word, she went to Nelay
stood with her arms crossed, staring at the blank wall. “You’re certain of this,
Jez?”
Jezzel watched her carefully. “She
heard the mistress screaming at him.”
Nelay “
“Good enough to distract a King,” Jezzel finally said.
