“These people are unarmed. Friends,” Quintus snapped. “What’s your report?”
The centurion ushered two men forward.
“Gaius, Decimus, tell the tribune what you told me.” And it better be the same story, if you know what’s good for you, was the accompanying threat.
Draupadi and Ganesha ceased their prayers and sat watching, serenely interested and unafraid, despite the intrusion of so many armed men into their shrine. The sun beat down on their heads. Even if they were surrounded by water falling into a pool, and growing things, it would be a hot day. It was hard to remain on guard in such a place. The very sound of water falling over ancient rocks promised rest and peace.
But they were adepts in illusion, Quintus reminded himself.
“Sir, the centurion set us to guard the wagons that camped outside the causeway.”
Very properly done, of course. Quintus had not liked the look of those particular wagons or the way they had struggled halfway down the slope into the valley, then turned around.
Seeing no apparent danger from a priest and priestess in shabby robes, Rufus sheathed his short sword. Despite the sunlight, he wore his metal helm. Lovingly, he tapped his vinestaff against his palm.
“Sleeping on duty…”
“Sir, by all the gods, I swear it, we never took our eyes off them. They camped; they built a fire; they drew from their own stores….” Gaius, a man young in the Legions and with the stocky build of the Italian provincial, all but stammered.
Behind him, Arsaces struggled to translate his words into Parthian for Ssu-ma Chao and his soldiers, who shifted from foot to foot, not in impatience but with increasing suspicion. Ganesha gestured with his hand, and the Persian looked up, astonished. Ssu-ma Chao barked laughter once, then fell silent too.
“Didn’t you find it strange that they would use their stores when they had a chance at fresh water and grazing?”
Both Legionaries had to fight from shrugging. They had never lived so long and so closely with strangers from so many nations. To them, anything any of these people did was strange. “Then, the wind started to blow. A cloud covered the moon. And we heard hissing….”
“We heard that before, the night you woke up, sir.”
Outside Merv, when the fear of giant serpents had struck the entire camp. Quintus didn’t need to know that Draupadi and Ganesha were leaning forward, as intent on the Legionaries’ story as their officers.
“And so they ran, didn’t they?” Lucilius drawled. He slipped past the first rank of armed men to run his eyes over Quintus’s companions. They lit appreciatively at the sight of Draupadi. She caught his glance and looked aside.
“No, sir!” The denial came too fast, and, despite the differences in rank and status between them and a patrician tribune, too hotly.
“So you heard … what? What you thought were serpents? So you went quiet, with your swords ready, in case they got closer?”
Gaius had one hand on his breast, as if he reached for the comfort of some amulet. Lad, Quintus thought at the Legionary, who was not all that much younger than he, I know just how you feel. The man had begun to sweat, and whites showed all around the pupils of his eyes.
“The rustling … I’m from Arpinum, sir, and I’ve grown up around fields, and I’ve been in the desert, but this was worse … I mean louder than I have ever heard. It came between us and the … the merchants. I could see light … oh, a black light, if you see what I mean. And we could not move.”
“I thought we were done for,” Decimus interrupted. “Like a bird, staring at a big snake. Couldn’t even shout for help, not that we’d have done so.”
“It was like everything went away. Then the light went away, too. The rustling died, and the moon came out from behind the clouds. And they were gone, the wagons were. Not even cart tracks to show the path they’d taken.”
Draupadi rose to her knees and bent over the water. She stretched out her hands to the right and left; and the water was still.
“Are these the ones whom you have lost?”
Figures moved in the shining depths, so clear that more than one man looked over his shoulder. Even Quintus, who had seen her illusions before, was tempted. Surely, those carts, those beasts, those lean merchants with the faces of traitors—but so like in feature to the priest and priestess before him—had to be reflections of something.
She raised her head commandingly, gazing at the two guards. They nodded and looked away from her.
“We lost more of them,” Quintus said. “When you brought us here…”
Murmurs rose at his back.
“…Some of their party were missing. We thought the Yueh-chih had slain them, or they had taken their own way, betraying even their comrades.”
“Ahhhhh, tribune, betrayal is ever the way of the Black Naacal.”
Ganesha chuckled richly. “Do not fear here, warriors. This place is protected. When we came here, fleeing over-mountain, we expended our last strength in warding it. You saw the Naga, the snake with seven heads, as you approached.”
“They could not pass,” Ssu-ma Chao muttered. For an instant Quintus heard the nasal tones of Ch’in speech before the cultivated Latin of a noble officer replaced them. “They dared not. You are—what? Wizards, alchemists—or are you witches?”
Ssu-ma Chao drew steel on Ganesha and advanced, holding the tip of his blade at the man’s throat.
“I will have the answer from you,” he ordered. “Or I will cut it out of your treacherous throat.”
“Another mistake,” Ganesha said, even as Draupadi cried out. If she asked him to spare the old scribe’s life, Quintus did not know if he could withstand her plea.
“You are afraid,” the scribe said. “You know what I am, and I am not the first to travel in these lands which your Son of Heaven waters with the lives of his soldiers.”
“You look like one of the beggar monks from the south and west….”
“And truly, we have come from over the mountain.”
“But…” Ssu-ma Chao jerked his head toward the priestess. “She is a great witch.”
“She believes us!” One of the Roman guards ran toward Draupadi and hurled himself, forgetful of all discipline, at her feet. “She is a sybil, a prophetess. She knows I have not lied, my soul upon it!”
Rufus strode forward, grabbed the man by his tunic, and jerked him back. “Sir, I’d be inclined to say he believes that. Why else break ranks where I could see him? That’s a brave man.” He gave the Legionary a last shove. “That’s for stepping out of formation, and there’ll be more tonight. Remind me.”
It was hard to laugh with a Ch’in noble’s blade at one’s throat: Ganesha managed it. If Ssu-ma Chao swapped off his head, would the scribe return as Quintus had seen him? A shadow, as of an elephant, seemed to shimmer on the stone behind him.
“Show the warrior, Draupadi. Quickly.”
“Another brave man.” Rufus, speaking out of turn.
Two of the patrician officers raised their brows at Rufus, who saluted offhandedly enough with his vine-staff that it was an insult. Quintus thought he didn’t need Ganesha to interpret the centurion’s thoughts. Proconsul’s dead, the old fox, and we’re a long way from Rome, boys.
“Let him go.” Her words dropped into the crowd of anxious men like oil, calming turbulent waters. Once again, she held out her hands over the pool, where the images of wagons, frightened beasts, and Black Naacals had waited for her notice.
“Until all is made ready, there are limits on my strength. I had not known that others of their number had fled,” she mused and knelt, staring into the water as the sun rose in the sky. Its flat surface glared like molten bronze, reflecting the great climbing disk and its rays, like a shrine to the ancient religion she and the scribe had claimed they served.
Only an eagle might look into the sun without being blinded.
“Lady,” Quintus asked, “what of our Eagle? I see it flying to the West, even as the one we served heads east.”
“The Eagle!” The woman clapped her hands in discovery.
Beneath them, as if a servant had been summoned, the water shifted. The image of the Black Naacals vanished. Replacing it came a picture of rammed-earth walls, a high tower from which soldiers in Ch’in uniform shot arrows while others built high a fire that smoked. Even as they watched, the men interrupted the billowing smoke.
“The fort at Miran!” Ssu-ma Chao cried. “Who would strike the Empire in the heart of the desert?”
“Those for whom the desert holds no fear,” Draupadi said.
“These people claim they have enemies who can…”
“We do not claim, tribune,” Ganesha cut in. “Should they gain the power they seek, the Black Naacals could wreak such devastation that the sandstorm you rode through to come here would look like a garden by comparison.”