Part 4 The Temple of the Sun Gods
1.They plodded on for a few more days. They found no more water and their previously restored spirits were lowered once again. The only thing that kept them going was the knowledge that the Temple of the Sun Gods was only days away. They would be reaching it on the final day of the Sun Festival – the last day when they could present the tributes.
Tar was pushing the caravan beyond its limits, making them travel even a few hours after darkness fell. It did not exactly go with the desert customs. The caravan carrying the tributes for the Sun Gods was to travel only in sunlight. Rhea, in a moment of lucidity, pointed that out to Tar, but he would hear nothing of her protests.
“If we do not hurry, we will miss the festival altogether,” he told her at one point. “Now, pray tell me, what would offend the Gods more?”
Rhea did not object anymore. She could see Tar had a point. And she was ashamed, as her acquiescence was due to her mind being so cloudy. She felt she wanted more to get out of the heat than act in the best interest of the Gods.
On the evening before they reached the temple, the weather changed. The air grew stuffier, and everything fell still. The night sky was covered by a canopy of clouds. The ground vibrated with the rolling sound of distant thunder.
“Such a storm would have done us good when we were deep in the desert,” Batar grumbled.
Kassir did not know what the rain would have done to them if it had caught them further from the Temple of the Sun Gods. All he knew now was that the hours before the storm were agony. He felt as though the dark clouds above were suffocating him. His head throbbed and to his overtaxed senses the thunder sounded like loud explosions going off right next to him. He was looking forward to some rain, though. At least they would have some water then.
They were all restless. The hours passed and it did not look like the rain would start soon. It could, perhaps, rain the next day. But that was uneasy news. Rain during the days of the Festival of the Sun was a strange omen.
“Maybe it’s not altogether a good sign, either,” one of the guards said. “It speaks of great changes.”
Kassir wondered why rain had such an effect on the people of the desert. When it rained more than once a year, the Rain Goddesses overstepped their boundaries. The child born on the second rainy night of the year was considered an outcast. If it rained on the Festival of the Sun, that was a bad omen. For all the claims to harmony, there were quite a lot of feuds between the Sun Gods and Rain Goddesses.
He was frightened by his thoughts. The fever from the bright sun brought ideas into his mind he usually tried to ignore. As before, he looked at the others warily, afraid his subversive thoughts were somehow written on his face. But they were all too exhausted to care whether anyone might be thinking forbidden thoughts about the Desert Gods.
It did not rain at all that night. Instead, the rain started to fall the next morning, at first light. No doubt that had to be another omen, Kassir mused wearily. The rain did some good, just as Batar had predicted. The caravan felt reborn. Many of those ill started to feel better. Kassir himself felt like a new person. His strength was returning, although he was wearier than he could remember being before. But that would soon be cured, he thought. After all, there would be no more sleeping under the naked sky that night.
They set out again that morning in the rain. It was to be their last lap. They would find themselves at the Temple of the Sun Gods that very afternoon.
It rained heavily for two hours. Kassir thought back to the night he had defeated the shadow-bear. It was raining like that then too. Perhaps, he mused, they were right to think rain brought omens. It had followed Kassir all his life, and it was following him still. In many ways, he was surprised he was to become a servant of the Sun Gods first and foremost. He had always seemed to belong to the Rain Goddesses more.
As they travelled on, he noticed that Batar was riding alongside him.
“Are you nervous, young Light-tender?” he asked.
“Yes,” Kassir answered readily, since much of his pride was tempered by the desert crossing. “It will all be so different from now on.”
“I suppose it will. But never forget that it could be worse. At least you will be where you are most needed.”
Kassir remembered the conversation he had overheard between Batar and his father. No doubt, he was so relieved the Light-tender would make it to the Temple alive that he did not much care what happened afterwards.
“I will do my best, of course,” Kassir felt the need to point out.
Batar’s lips curled into a small smile.
“I would not worry,” he said. “If you conduct yourself as you have during your time with us, and with the sand-siren, then we will all be lucky to have you as a servant of the Gods.”
The words warmed Kassir. They felt different from the reluctant admiration of the people of Red-stones. This time, the praise was earned.
A few hours later, the rain stopped. The sky was a murky grey and the air was cool. The caravan was in high spirits and that was how they approached their destination. Early that afternoon, they spotted the stone turrets of the mighty Temple of the Sun Gods of which so many tales spoke, although few people had managed to see it with their own eyes.
2.The Temple of the Sun Gods stood in a broad valley surrounded by sand dunes. There was not a single patch of green anywhere in sight. Tar’s caravan stopped at the top of the hill and looked down at the fearsome construction in the valley. Kassir gaped at it. From that distance he saw it better than his companions, and what he saw terrified him beyond measure.
It was the largest building he had ever looked upon. The small, insignificant temple from his village of Red-stones could not begin to compare. The place was an amalgamation of towers and sharp corners. Its grey stone walls were flecked with black stains, as if they had once passed through a fire that had left its mark, although the structure was still standing. It might have been the place where the Sun rose from every morning, but to Kassir’s wide eyes, it looked full of darkness.
Against his will, he suddenly thought about Run and his description of the City of White Marble. It was sacrilege to think of that place so near the Temple of the Sun Gods and even a greater blasphemy to try to compare the two. But he could not help it. Just as he could not help wishing it was not the Temple of the Sun Gods he was about to enter.
So impressive was the sight before them that many of the caravan guards bowed their heads. Some threw themselves on the ground. Tar quickly put a stop to that.
“Now is not the time,” he said sharply. “We must do our job first and reach the temple. We’ll do all the kneeling we can afterwards.”
Rhea cast Tar a reproachful look. She did not appreciate him interrupting the others’ show of devotion – even if it was more awe and fear that made them kneel. She said nothing, though. She wanted to see herself within the temple walls and have that dreadful journey over as much as Tar.
Kassir did not kneel at the sight of the temple. He did not look away. As the caravan descended into the valley, he kept his eyes only on his destination. Here were those responsible for his gifts. He could not approach them without sending them a challenge, however foolish that might be.
With such thoughts, Kassir of Red-stones passed the gates of the Temple of the Sun Gods, to take up his service in gratitude for gifts he had never wanted.
3.The tribute caravan passed the gates of the Temple of the Sun Gods at high noon. Tall stone arches surrounded them now. The vast courtyard was deserted save for a young boy – a novice – who stood waiting for them. He bowed to Tar when he saw him.
“May the Sun Gods bless all your roads, strangers.”
“May they bless you as well,” Tar replied. “And may they look kindly on the tributes that show the desert people’s devotion to them.”
“Is this all you have to give to the Sun Gods?” the boy asked. “Tributes?”
Kassir watched the exchange curiously. From the way they talked he could gather this was a ritual, something that the master of the tribute caravan and the temple gatekeeper had to say to one another.
“That is not all I bring,” Tar said, motioning to Kassir to come forward. “I have with me young Kassir of the village of Red-stones, here to offer his services as Light-tender to the Gods.”
At the mention of a Light-tender, the young novice forgot his part, staring at Kassir with irreverent curiosity. He composed himself quickly, though, and stepped aside.
“Do walk in,” he instructed. “And may the Sun Gods be gracious to you all.”
The remaining caravan members dismounted. They left the camels in the courtyard under the care of the young novice. Four guards carried the tributes under Rhea’s directions. Tar walked with his hand on Kassir’s shoulder. Kassir did not know if that was also part of the ritual, but he was glad the caravan master kept close. Everything was suddenly much too overwhelming.
The doors to the Temple of the Sun Gods were wide open now; apart from the days when the tributes were brought, not a lot of people were admitted inside. They walked in, their pace slow and hesitant. Some of them had been there before, but the spell of that place never left them. The mix of awe and terror was felt by everyone who stepped inside the temple, no matter how often they visited it. Inside, it was cool and dark. After so many days under the pitiless sun, the coolness should have been refreshing but it wasn’t, not really. The walls of the edifice looked menacing, as if about to close in on anyone who did not belong there. Unlike its counterpart dedicated to the Rain Goddesses, the Temple of the Sun Gods had no tapestries and no carpets. Its walls were completely bare.
The place was silent. Only the faint echo of muffled chanting drifted to them from somewhere in a hidden chamber where the priests were busy with some ritual known only to them and the Gods. Apart from the young novice who had greeted them at the gate, no one else came to them. But Kassir knew they were not alone. His sharp senses could pick up things the others overlooked. He knew in hidden alcoves there were figures dressed in dark robes watching them. They were very careful not to show themselves but observed the travellers in silence. Kassir shivered against his will. He felt Tar’s hand tighten briefly on his shoulder but that was the only sign the caravan master gave to show he was aware of his anxiety.
Tar led them all onwards. He knew exactly what was supposed to happen. To him, the fact that no one had come to meet them was not worrying at all. They walked on, along the dark corridors lit here and there by small lamps in the shape of suns. The chanting drew nearer. At one point, Tar took a left turning. Kassir looked at him questioningly. Their new direction took them further away from the chanting. Eventually, Tar stopped in front of a low wooden door. He knocked three times. There was no answer, even though Kassir could detect movement beyond it. Tar was unperturbed and knocked again.
“This is Tar, master of the northern tribute caravan,” he announced in a clear voice that echoed in the empty corridor. “I bring what is due to the Sun Gods and I deliver a Light-tender. Will the Sun Gods grant us an audience?”
From the room came only a brief ‘enter’. Tar pushed the door open. The room was small, with a low, round-shaped ceiling. It was lit only by two lamps, one which looked like a sun, the other with a softer, strangely bluish light, made to look like a raindrop. The only furniture was a wooden table and a small stool. A man stood by the table. He was old and wizened. He wore black robes, but he had a golden chain round his neck, with a sun pendant hanging from it.
Kassir could not help staring at the small figure. This had to be Bushir, the Tribute Master of the Sun Priests. There were many tales about him, and the rumours had reached even the small village of Red-stones. He was, they said, the oldest person in the desert. No one knew where he came from. He had been found, many years ago, on the doorstep of the Temple of the Sun Gods. The priests took him in and raised him. It was inevitable that he became a novice when he grew up. His intelligence and quick-thinking allowed him to move up in the ranks until he came to be in charge of the tributes for the Sun Gods. It was said that only his uncertain origins prevented him from becoming High Priest.
“Greetings, Master Tar of the Tribute Caravan,” Bushir said with a slight bow. “It is good to see you here once again. This would be your thirteenth desert crossing, right?”
Tar returned the bow.
“It would indeed be my thirteenth crossing, priest Bushir. It was not one of my easiest, though. I lost one guard to a sand-siren. I lost others to the heat. We ourselves are faint with fever and lack of water.”
“But are the tributes safe?” Bushir interrupted, somewhat testily.
A hard look crossed Tar’s face.
“The tributes are safe, priest Bushir,” he replied in a flat voice. “So is master Kassir, your future Light-tender.”
For the first time, Bushir turned to look directly at Kassir. He eyed the young boy sceptically.
“You’re a Light-tender?”
Kassir held the priest’s gaze daringly.
“So they tell me.”
Bushir looked rather displeased by his blunt reply.
“I think we should teach you etiquette first and foremost,” he said. “The Temple of the Sun Gods is not your desert village. There is a certain way to do and say things here. Now, are you ready to offer your services as Light-tender?”
Kassir tried to quell his impatience. He could not understand why there had to be so much pomp. What was the use in asking him if he was ready, when only one answer was acceptable?
“I am ready to do all that the Sun Gods and the people of the desert need me to do.”
A strange look appeared briefly on Bushir’s face at the words. However, he did not comment on them, only nodded curtly.
“Then let me take you to the High Priest. The Resplendent One is anxious to meet you. A Light-tender is always welcome. Sister Rhea shall come with us. Tar, you know your way to the Chamber of Welcome. Take your people there. A feast has already been prepared for you.”
Tar nodded but made no move to leave. Instead, he tapped Kassir’s shoulder to get the boy’s attention.
“This is where we say farewell, my lad.”
Kassir tried to hide the panic that he felt at Tar’s news.
“But we will be seeing each other again, right?” he asked uncertainly. “After all, you must spend some time to regain your strength before attempting the return journey.”
“We will,” Tar agreed. “But we will be staying in the guest quarters, and you will stay with the priests. There is no reason for us to see each other again.”
Kassir wanted to protest. He did not think it was fair. He did not want to say farewell to Tar or the rest of the caravan, knowing he would never see them again. The many miles of the desert had bound them together. The Sun Priests could not understand what that meant.
Tar must have sensed his turmoil. He put his hands firmly on the boy’s shoulders and shook him slightly.
“Good luck, Light-tender. May the Sun Gods and Rain Goddesses watch over your path.”
He stepped aside to allow Bushir, Rhea, and Kassir to leave the room. As they passed the other caravan members, they bowed to Kassir in parting. He did not know how to respond. This was not his first farewell. But this was different from his parting with Red-stones. He had faced death in the empty desert with the caravan. In many ways, they were much more of a family to him than Rashed and Malna had ever been. And he hated to say goodbye to them.
Copyright Simina Lungu 2022
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