“Oh, Iluris…” Cemi whispered, and the sound was lost in the hissing curl of water at the warship’s prow as they sailed into the harbor.
Loud war drums from the warship’s deck called the crowds as they gathered on the waterfront to cheer the return of their beloved empra. But the black hangings gave them pause.
Captani Vos joined Cemi in the open air, his golden armor polished and gleaming, his scarlet cape ready for a formal ceremony. “Empra Iluris is safe with us. We hawk guards will not let our mother suffer any further harm.”
Although he treated Cemi as a friend, Vos acknowledged that she was the empra’s intended successor, though no formal process had been completed. Cemi could not believe that a street girl from Prirari could be chosen to rule an entire continent, and she didn’t want to do it without Iluris. “Should I go back to her cabin in case she needs me?”
His eyes were weary and sad. “She has not stirred.”
“I’m sure she knows I am there.”
For much of the return voyage, she had locked herself in the guarded cabin, sitting beside the empra’s motionless form. Cemi had tenderly washed her skin, bound clean bandages around her head, but there was nothing else to do. The rocking of the ship through the rough storm waters had made Cemi sick, but Iluris had not responded at all.
Now as the ship glided to its place in the harbor, Key Priestlord Klovus strode up and down the deck, riling up the crew in preparation for docking. He bemoaned the fact that if only they had brought a godling along, they could have protected the dear empra. Several nondescript soldiers hovered close to the priestlord, guarding him from harm. A strange concern aboard an Isharan warship, Cemi thought, but her mind had been so fogged with fear and grief that she didn’t pick up on the small details at first.
As the sailors threw down ropes and the ship tied up to the dock, Cemi stood pale and brave at the bow. Next to her, Captani Vos seemed to be sculpted entirely of duty. After losing his family, Vos had been adopted by the empra as a surrogate son, just as with the other handpicked hawk guards.
Klovus stood in the sun in his dark blue caftan, and his enthusiasm overshadowed any grief he might have displayed for the empra’s grave condition. The priestlord shouted to the crowd even before the gangplanks had been lowered. “The Commonwealth set a trap against us, just as I warned. The empra is grievously injured! Only by focusing the power of prayer and sacrifice can we keep her alive. Hear us, save us!”
The chant roared back. “Hear us, save us!”
City guards lined up to push back the crowds and clear the way, and Klovus stepped to the front as if he were the ruler of Ishara. As the key priestlord, the highest priestlord in all of Ishara, he controlled the godlings that defended the land. With the empra incapacitated, it made sense that the religious leader would speak on behalf of the returning mission. Cemi herself had no standing to speak, but it still made her uneasy.
“We will bring the empra,” Captani Vos announced. “No one may touch her but us.”
Cemi followed the hawk guards to the empra’s guarded cabin, where they looked at the motionless woman with respect and sadness. Vos issued orders, and two hawk guards together gently lifted Iluris onto a pallet, which they carried in a brisk procession out into the sunshine.
Vos said privately to the hawk guards, “She is not dead. This is not a bier being carried to a funeral pyre. We will bear our mother through the city to the safety of the palace. Iluris is still our empra.”
Cemi took the lead, wearing a grave expression as they descended the gangplank behind Klovus. Resplendent in their gold and scarlet uniforms, the hawk guards followed the larger soldier escort along the docks.
Xion, the ur-priest from the harbor temple, waited for them along with many followers of his own godling. He had heavy brows and dark hair cropped very close to his skull. “Prayers and sacrifices will be made in the harbor temple as well, Key Priestlord. Hear us, save us! My godling can share its strength with the people of Ishara, for the empra.”
“Your godling?” Klovus said, as if it were a criticism. “That temple and its godling used to be mine before I became key priestlord. The harbor godling traveled with me when we struck the town of Mirrabay in Osterra.” He gave a condescending smile to the ur-priest and his earnest followers. “I can muster all the godlings for the defense of Ishara.”
Unable to bear it any longer, Cemi spoke up sharply, her small voice breaking through the hubbub. “Iluris remains the ruler of Ishara, and she will awaken.”
Hearing Cemi’s confidence, the crowd responded with a cheer as well as a prayer. “She will awaken! Hear us, save us!”
Klovus frowned at the interruption, but rapidly shifted his expression. “Of course, dear girl, that is what I meant.”
At a swift, unwavering march, the hawk guards rushed Iluris along the main thoroughfare that led to the palace. A tall man wearing dark robes and a thick chain of office intercepted the party. He had a lantern jaw, large eyes, and heavy brows. Chamberlain Nerev had accompanied Iluris throughout the districts of Ishara in the search for her successor. Seeing the older woman stretched out and pale on her pallet, the chamberlain stifled a gasp. The lines in his face looked as if they had been pounded in with a chisel. “What happened? She still lives?”
“She still lives,” said Captani Vos.
Nerev turned to Cemi, showing deference and respect. “What are we to do?” Clearly, he expected the young woman to give him an appropriate answer.
Nearby, concerned with his own followers, Klovus raised his voice in a shout. “Only we can make our people strong. Hear us, save us!” While the hawk guards hurried the motionless woman to the palace, the key priestlord thrived on the attention as if he drew energy from the believers just as godlings did.
The key priestlord followed them to the fountain courtyard of the palace under the soaring stone arch, but he remained outside as the hawk guards took their burden inside. Cemi was concerned that he showed such little regard for the injured empra, but she was also glad he didn’t accompany them.
Instead, Klovus climbed to a speaking dais and bellowed his story in a commanding voice. As they hurried the empra into the cool shadows of the palace, Vos said to Cemi, “Klovus has the crowd’s attention, and he will speak at great length.” He sounded relieved.
“He always speaks at great length,” Chamberlain Nerev said with clear disapproval.
The hawk guards were swift and professional, their boots and jingling armor echoing in the vaulted portico. For Vos, it was a tactical matter. “That gives us time to take our mother to the tower quarters. We can secure her and set up a cordon of hawk guards.”
Cemi trusted his instincts. “I approve. No one will approach unless we allow it.” She was surprised at how readily the guards followed her lead. Nerev looked at her and nodded.
Outside, the crowd’s murmur built to a roar as the key priestlord continued his speech. Using inflammatory language, Klovus explained how Konag Conndur had tricked Empra Iluris, offered Fulcor Island to atone for all the crimes the Commonwealth had committed. Cemi frowned as she paused to listen. That wasn’t exactly what Conndur had said.
Waving his hands as if to shoo away gnats, the key priestlord painted a bloody and vindictive picture of how the treacherous konag had sent his own Brava to kill the empra. “We were vulnerable. The empra’s greatest mistake was to trust the godless, and she nearly paid with her life. Brave Isharan soldiers carried her to safety—but this is not over.” He raised his voice to a shout. “Oh no, it is not over! Hear us, save us! We must prepare our revenge.” When the people shouted in anger and dismay, Klovus continued, “Go to your temples, make your sacrifices, give your blood to strengthen our godlings—to strengthen Ishara.”