Free The Seventh Gate (The Seven Citadels ) by Geraldine Harris Page A

close to the
truth each speech was, only the soul figures would know.
    Finally it was the turn of O-grak himself.
The Khan described past battles and the preparation for the new campaign. As he
spoke, Kerish's eyes were drawn to the silent watchers. This time he noticed
one figure taller than all the rest. Its huge hands snatched at the air and the
noble face was encircled with eyes, but the body was blackened and twisted like
a great tree struck by lightning.
    “This I have done, “ boomed O-grak, “and
this I will do - Viroc shall fall, the Godborn shall tremble, and I shall lead
you to the Golden City. Drink, Men of Oraz, drink, Men of Chiraz, drink to the
death of white-walled Viroc and the doom of Galkis.”

Chapter
4
    The Book of the Emperors: Conflicts
     
    And they urged
him to confess his greatest crime, thinking that if he repented his words
concerning Zeldin in front of that great company, the Emperor could pardon him;
but he said to them, “Once I failed to pause and speak to someone that I knew
as I passed by. No sin that I have committed weighs so heavily on me and I
taste the bitter fruits of it still.”
    Believing that
he mocked them, they reviled him, and drove him from the Golden City.
     
     
    The captains of Fangmere had already
returned to the Jorgan Islands to gather their ships for the great assault on
Viroc and the morning after the feast Cil-Rahgen sailed for Chirandermar to
summon the Men of Chiraz to war. A few hours later Khan O-grak embarked with
all his household on the brief voyage to the forlorn island at the mouth of the
Jenze where the attackers of Viroc were assembling for a new campaign.
    The four prisoners were kept together on
the Khan's own ship. They stood on deck in the sultry heat looking back at
Azanac, as the Orazian vessels were loaded. Now that they were aware of its
presence, it was the squat darkness of the temple that dominated the island.
    “How can they worship in a place so ugly?”
demanded Gwerath. “Even naked rocks under the sun would be better.”
    “It takes a mighty weight of stone to pin
down a goddess,” answered Gidjabolgo.
    Kerish looked at him sharply and was about
to say something when they were distracted by shouting from one of the other
ships.
    Fifteen men were straining to lower a
covered longboat and lash it to the side of the larger vessel. One of the ropes
that held the longboat had almost slipped from their grasp. For a moment the
boat hung unevenly over the purple waves, then more men rushed to help and it
was righted and lashed fast. The guard who stood beside the prisoners took off
his cloak and fastened it on again, inside out. Guessing that the man was
trying to avert bad luck, Forollkin asked what was special about the covered
boat.
    “It is the Soul Boat.”
    “You mean it holds the images that we saw
last night at the feast?”
    The guard nodded. “The Khan will not return
to Azanac before winter, so we must take them with us.”
    “What would happen if there was an
accident, or someone harmed the figures?”
    The guard looked at Forollkin as if he were
a madman or an idiot. “No one would commit such an evil. We all have souls.”
    “Well, suppose the Soul Boat had gone down
just now?” persisted Forollkin.
    The guard was looking more and more
unhappy. “It is not good to talk of such things before a woman.”
    “Why?” asked Gwerath, who had already been
told about the silent figures. “Don't women have souls?”
    “Women say so, but they don't need a ship
to carry them, just a box so small.” Grinning, he measured the length with his
hands. Deeply affronted Gwerath began to express her opinion of men who had
sticks for souls, when a general bustle on deck announced the arrival of O-grak
himself.
    The Khan was preceded by four men carrying
the limp coils of Shageesa, who had been drugged into an uneasy sleep. Only
when he had seen the snake into her wooden cage did O-grak pay any attention to
his prisoners.
    “Serpents