Crystal Gorge

Andar and Danal joined Commander Narasan and the warrior queen.

“Any luck?” Narasan asked them quietly.

“I wouldn’t really get my hopes up, sir,” Danal replied. He glanced around at the nearby priests. “Do you think Aracia would be offended if we went outside for a breath of fresh air—or something? There are some things you should know, and I don’t think the priesthood there would be very happy if any of them overheard our reports.”

“I don’t imagine she’ll even notice if we leave,” Narasan replied. He snapped his fingers, and Padan, who was standing nearby, looked over at them. Narasan gestured toward the door at the far side of Aracia’s throne-room, and Padan joined them as they moved toward the main door of the temple. “What’s afoot?” he asked quietly.

“Let’s hold off until we get outside,” Narasan replied. “I don’t think we want the natives to hear us.”

They moved rather casually through the crowd of overdressed priests and then went on outside, with the warrior queen Trenicia close behind.

“What did you find out, Andar?” Narasan asked when they went out through the golden doors.

“There’s nothing at all even remotely resembling any kind of defenses, sir,” Andar replied, “and the local citizens don’t seem to understand the meaning of the word ‘wall.’ If we want a wall, we’ll have to build it ourselves. The wall around the temple itself is no more than a decoration. The way things stand right now, I’d say that ‘Holy City’ is completely indefensible.”

“Why bother?” Padan asked. “I’d say that ‘Holy City’ isn’t really worth the trouble. What we really need right now is another one of those ‘lumpy maps.’ If we can pinpoint the most probable route the bug-people will take when they invade, we should be able to stop them before they reach open country. Once they spread out on the farmland, we’ll have lost the war.”

“That does make sense, Commander,” Andar agreed. “If we can find a good place to build a fort that the bug-people can’t get past, we’ll win this war.”

“I know,” Narasan replied glumly, “but ‘Holy Aracia’ wants us to concentrate on defending ‘Holy Temple.’ It’s the only thing that’s the least bit important to her, and she wants to have multitudes of soldiers right here where she can see them. Did either of you come across anything at all like a local army—something on the order of those farmers in Veltan’s Domain?”

“They don’t even have police here, Commander,” Danal said, “and as close as I was able to determine, the word ‘weapon’ is beyond their understanding.”

“I’m not sure if this would work, Commander,” Andar said, “but as soon as we can determine the most probable route for the bug-people invasion, maybe we should start waving the term ‘protective wall’ around. Then we tell ‘Holy Aracia’ and ‘Fat High Priest’ that bricks made of clay and straw wouldn’t do the job. We’ll need rocks, and from what I’ve seen, rocks are very rare in this coastal region. If we put a couple thousand men to work carrying rocks here from the mountains off to the west, it might persuade the lady who hired us that we’re making preparations to build a protective wall around her temple. That might keep her happy, and then she’ll be able to concentrate on being adored while we concentrate on building a real wall where we’re going to need one.”

“This one is very clever, Narasan,” Trenicia observed. “The one who concentrates on listening to speeches isn’t going to pay too much attention to the details, and as long as the pile of rocks near her temple keeps growing, she’ll relax and listen to more speeches while you and your men do what really needs to be done.”

“The first thing we need, though, is a map,” Padan insisted, “and I’m not sure if our employer has ever taken the trouble to even look at the rest of her Domain. Being adored is evidently a full-time job.”

They had to wait until suppertime before they could speak with Lady Aracia, of course. Takal Bersla filled the entire afternoon with adoration, but eating was probably even more important for him.

Aracia, of course, remained on her throne, most probably impatient for the adoration to resume.

“We need to talk, Lady Aracia,” Commander Narasan said as soon as Bersla had left.

“Is it important?” Aracia demanded.

“Extremely important, My Lady,” Narasan replied. “If I’m going to defend your part of the Land of Dhrall, I’ll need a map. I must know what the ground looks like before I can make any decisions.”

“It’s fairly flat near the coast,” she replied almost indifferently. “Then the foothills begin to emerge off to the west. Then the mountains rise up even higher to separate my Domain from the Wasteland. That’s about it, Commander.”

“Details, Lady Aracia,” Narasan insisted. “I can’t make any plans without details. I’m quite sure that we’re going to need one of those ‘lumpy maps’ that have been so useful in the past two wars.”

“We’ll talk about this some other time, Commander,” she replied. “My Takal will be coming back soon, and I’m sure he has more to say to me.”

“He can wait,” Narasan said bluntly. “I can’t. Let me put it to you in simpler terms, Lady Aracia. If I don’t have a map of your Domain by tomorrow morning, I’ll give all those pretty gold blocks back to you and take my army back home.”

“You wouldn’t!” she exclaimed, the imperious expression sliding off her face.

“Try me,” Narasan said bluntly.

Takal Bersla appeared to be seriously discontented the following morning, quite probably because his after-dinner oration had been canceled somewhat abruptly by divine Aracia. It was very likely that his discontent had been elevated by his discovery that his luxurious “contemplation chamber” had been usurped, and that it now had a lumpy floor.

“Our defenders required a map of my Domain, my devoted Takal,” Aracia explained. “The map, of necessity, is quite large, so we needed a sizeable room.”

“What is a ‘map,’ most holy?” Bersla demanded.

“A picture of the ground,” Aracia explained. “Our friends wanted to study the shape of my Domain so that they will be able to defend it when the creatures of the Wasteland attack us.”