The Lioness of Shadi

3 - Dreams in the Desert

Menes scuffed at the ground like a restless bull as Ilati approached Eigou. The old man seemed intently focused on the clear waters of oasis, stirring them with a palm frond. Without looking up, their sorcerer spoke. "Are you ready to enter the desert?"

Ilati straightened up despite the pain through her body. If this was to be an audience with a god, she should meet it with the calm of a priestess, even though she felt more like a broken reed. "I am."

"Good." Eigou stood up and flicked the piece of palm frond into the water. "I will give you a skin that should hold you over for a day, perhaps longer if you are careful. Go into the dunes as far as you dare, Ilati, and see if she will speak to you."

The priestess nodded. As far as you dare. Would anything short of piercing the heart of the desert itself impress the Mother of Night Winds? "Will you two be here when I finish?"

Menes nodded. "We will stay. Not forever, but long enough for you to enter and return."

"If you do not die." Eigou's reminder sent a pang of fear through Ilati's stomach. "We have talked away enough time. Go. We will keep our vigil here at the oasis and hope for your return."

Ilati nodded when the old man handed her the smaller goatskin they had, filled with water. She slung it over one shoulder and tied it in place with a leather cord. It ached against her bruises, but it was the best way to carry it and keep her hands free. "If I do not return, pray for my people. No one else will offer them respite."

She turned and limped into the desert, the oasis fading into mirage behind her with every step. The fabric she had used as a veil now covered her head as a scarf, worn loose around her shoulders to allow the movement of air. Eigou had given her water for a day, but she knew in her heart of hearts that only deeper would interest the wild goddess she was chasing.

Trudging through the loose sand felt more arduous than walking on packed earth and it did not help that she was climbing dunes, many of which rose like temples worthy of titans before her, almost a thousand cubits at their summits. They would have dwarfed even the greatest ziggurat of Shadi and the mere sight of one from standing at its base sucked the breath from her lungs. Once she reached the crest, she could follow along it to the peak and then along the spine, like great waves of earth frozen in eerie patterns. There was no sign of a serpent or scorpion, so she considered herself fortunate as she walked.

The heat was almost unbearable here. When she slipped and fell, she scorched her shins and hands, not to mention almost losing her water supply. All around the air shimmered and waved in the heat of the day. She had every intention of pushing as far as she could before resting.

Thirst was a demon that could not be exorcized. It burned in Ilati's throat and mouth, consuming even her spit until it felt like her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. Only water cured it, and the less she drank, the more the thirst grew and grew, demanding more and more.

Ilati had lived in the temple shade for much of her life, and before her vows had played idly in Shadi's vibrant gardens. Not once in her life before now had she been forced to contend with privation. She was the treasured daughter, groomed to rule the temple of the patron goddess of the birthplace of civilization. There was no room in that for hunger, thirst, or the punishment of damaged limbs and battered muscles.

The Desert of Kings, as unknowable in its own way as the surface of the moon or the depths of the ocean, was her temple now. With a cloudless, beautiful blue sky above and the temperature of an inferno baking her alive, Ilati still found herself feeling some little thread of hope. If she could just follow it, surely she would find something that would help her, no matter the thirst burning her throat or the hunger gnawing at her stomach. Her body still ached from several brutal beatings, the outline of hands now livid on her wrists and throat.