Behind the strange boulders, in a place out of sight in the distance, waited a band of knights, weapons in hand and drawn up in formation, ready to charge at any moment. Beside them stood several dozen riderless horses; a few carried the supplies a long desert journey required, but most were warhorses, and their riders had just died in that savage skirmish.
Finance Officer Mister-Morton murmured, "How is this possible? One person — a woman, at that — has wiped out every last one of our ambush elite, and High Priest Jeremiah is dead as well! ... Provincial Lord, we set the ambush with far too few men!"
Provincial Lord Xiaomo's face was very ugly. "We could not move the city-state's legion to attack Dick's caravan openly; that would amount to a declaration of war on the Eju Empire. We could only mask ourselves as bandits raiding across the Assyrian border. And there was no time to move a large force anyway — to get word, ride here at speed with my personal guard, and set the ambush was already the limit of what we could do."
High Priest Cosman glanced at Provincial Lord Xiaomo with some displeasure, his look seeming to say, Do bandits come that well trained and elite? Then he turned and gazed at Gabriel in the distance, his face dark. "That one must be one of the twelve guardian grand warriors of the Isis Temple in Memphis. Who would ever have thought it!"
The finance officer said, unwilling to let it go, "However strong she is, she is only one person! Look — she has spent her strength now, and seems to be wounded. If we threw our cavalry at them in a sudden charge, we could still seize the Tears of the Gods."
While they were speaking, Gabriel had already walked back to the front of the caravan and knelt on one knee, her long sword propped on the ground, half the blade buried in sand. Her face was pale and a thin thread of blood had seeped from the corner of her mouth as she prayed in silence.
The godstone on the sword's guard gave off a soft white light that wrapped around her — a low-rank healing divine art. She had indeed been wounded in the fierce fighting, above all when she caught the giant hammer's blow squarely on her shield and was shaken by it.
Dick had already sent servants to clear the battlefield. Severed limbs were buried in the sand; weapons and armor were collected and carried off, for all of it was spoils of war, and also important evidence for tracing later where this band of bandits had come from.
Seeing this, Provincial Lord Xiaomo said hesitantly, "The warrior is wounded, yes, but Rod-Dick's elite guard has not lost a single man. Look — their cavalry are still holding their battle formation, unmoved — while we have lost half our men, and even High Priest Jeremiah is dead."
The finance officer urged him on. "High Priest Cosman is still here, and we have two low-rank divine artists besides. If we charge in proper battle formation, with the heavy cavalry shielding the divine artists at the center of the array to support them, we can certainly win."
High Priest Cosman gritted his teeth as well. "The ambush's failure was an accident; no one expected the enemy to produce a grand warrior of that caliber. Decades ago, in the disaster that mage brought down on us, the holy maiden of the Isis Temple fell, and even the Tears of the Gods on the staff vanished without a trace. If that goes on much longer, their authority over Lower Eju is going to be called into question — and that is exactly what we most want to see.
The Tears of the Gods are that important to them, and even more important to us. Do not forget the ancient legend: the people of Hatti also believe the Tears of the Gods are a blessing from the gods. If we obtain it, then it will no longer be Isis blessing Eju, but the great god Enlil blessing Hatti — and only then can we gather more strength to resist the Eju Empire.
Provincial Lord Xiaomo's tone was still hesitant. "Of course I understand all that, or I would not have brought my elite guard here to set an ambush. But you saw the fight just now. Unless we are sure of taking them at a single stroke and leaving no clue for them to trace, we cannot act rashly again."
High Priest Cosman frowned. "Provincial Lord, today High Priest Jeremiah is dead, and we have lost so many men besides. If we fail, how are we to answer for it when we return?" He had no sooner said this than he suddenly turned his head, and cried out in alarm and delight, "My lord, you need not worry any longer — our revered grand divine artist Gelie has come!"
They all turned to look into the distance beyond the hill, and saw a figure in a white robe coming at an unhurried pace. He seemed to be walking, yet his body also seemed to skim over the dunes, drifting swiftly, and in no time he stood before them. He was an old man with a white goatee, short of stature and wearing a headcloth; his face was deeply lined, but his eyes were clear and sharp, nothing at all like an old man's.
The old man was named Gelie, chief priest of the Xuya Temple. In most city-states the city lord also holds the post of chief priest-official, but the city-state of Xuya was different: standing at a strategic frontier post, it had been sent by the Barron Kingdom a high-rank divine artist to serve as chief priest of the Xuya Temple, along with three deputy priest-officials — that is, three high priests: Xiaomo, Jeremiah and Cosman.
Provincial Lord Xiaomo himself concurrently held one of the three high priest posts of the city-state of Xuya, while High Priest Jeremiah had just died under Gabriel's sword.
A high-rank divine artist stands above all others wherever he goes in the kingdom. Gelie was an eighth-rank grand divine artist; he paid no mind to day-to-day affairs, traveled constantly between the city-state of Xuya and the royal capital, and held a concurrent post in the kingdom's main temple. This time, when Provincial Lord Xiaomo brought his men to set the ambush, Gelie happened to be away. That he should arrive now, of all moments — how could they not be overjoyed?
It was awkward for the knights to dismount, so they bowed in the saddle with their weapons in hand, and the three on the high ground also saluted respectfully. "Most revered grand divine artist, you have come! All our difficulties will be resolved now. Please allow us to explain to you everything that happened here."
Gelie glanced at the distant battlefield and waved the short staff in his hand. "I already understand what happened here. When we are back, you can explain it to me slowly."
Finance Officer Mister-Morton was startled, and knelt. "Revered grand divine artist, with your power we can most certainly seize the Tears of the Gods."
High Priest Cosman knelt too. "Revered chief priest, we fought for the future fate of the Hatti Kingdom — but Jeremiah is dead, and more than half of the Provincial Lord's personal guard is lost. If we cannot take the Tears of the Gods, how are we to answer for it when we return?"
There was a trace of regret in Gelie's eyes, and he sighed. "I will do what I can to shield you. I know well how precious the Tears of the Gods are, but now is not the time. Look — the other side is traveling with an enormous merchant caravan, and with Rod-Dick and his personal guard besides. Quite apart from anything else: if you killed that guardian grand warrior of the Isis Temple, and Rod-Dick along with her, do you know what that would mean?"
Seeing that everyone was silent, Gelie went on, "Do not imagine that no one would know it was you. In this place, who else could muster such strength? Apart from the Hatti authorities there is no other possibility.
Hatti is quietly gathering strength and for the present must keep up the appearance of peace; the Eju Empire is likely only short of a pretext to wipe that strength out.
What you have done could set off a war ahead of time, and the Hatti Kingdom is not ready — the hour for the great god Enlil to grant victory has not come."
At that, Gelie's voice suddenly stopped. He raised his head and looked toward Rod-Dick's caravan in the distance, and cried out softly, "Divine art!"
High Priest Cosman looked back and said, rather puzzled, "That looks like nothing but the lowest-grade blessing art. Why should a grand divine artist like you be so astonished?"
Out by the distant caravan, Maria had at some point climbed onto the first carriage. Head tilted back, gazing at the sky, she was murmuring a chant, both hands cupped before her chest. A faint golden radiance spread from her palms, as though her whole body had been plated in a shallow, holy glow. The gold light shone up into the air and then, strangely, reflected and scattered, coming down to wrap around Gabriel, who knelt before the carriage.
This was the divine art of the Isis Temple's holy maiden: the simplest and yet most profound "Blessing of Isis," which could be worked only with the aid of the Tears of the Gods, and which was also the trial by which the Isis Temple chose its holy maidens. It was a blessing divine art: it could not only heal wounds and sickness, but also erase pain, wash away weariness, restore stamina, and give a person confidence, strength and courage. In short, it was the equal of every divine-art effect that removes a negative influence, all rolled into one.
Maria could only barely work it now, with the aid of the Tears of the Gods, and it produced merely the simplest, lowest-grade divine-art effect, so faint as to be almost nothing — a symbol, no more. And yet the most important thing was precisely that symbol.
Everyone around bowed toward the golden radiance, even the armored knights on horseback, praising the miracle granted by the goddess Isis. Rod-Dick was wild with joy: he finally understood what Gabriel had been doing during those three days she kept Maria in Duke Town — and Maria had done it. She truly was a holy maiden!
In the shadow on the hill, the grand divine artist Gelie said with feeling, "Perhaps we are too far off and your puppet-eye art cannot see it clearly. It is indeed the lowest-grade blessing art — but it is the 'Blessing of Isis,' which only a guardian holy maiden of the Isis Temple can use, and only with the aid of the Tears of the Gods. That girl on the carriage is the Isis Temple's guardian holy maiden. I never imagined they already had one!"
Cosman's eyes went wide with disbelief. "How is that possible! The secret report I received said the Tears of the Gods were only mined three days ago and had not yet been delivered to Memphis. How could a holy maiden have appeared already?"
Gelie shook his head. "I am not all-knowing and all-powerful either; perhaps only the gods know. But to work a divine art like that, one must be a guardian holy maiden of the Isis Temple — so a holy maiden she is! We cannot act. If we take the Tears of the Gods from the hands of a holy maiden, we will rouse the hatred of all Lower Eju, and the Eju Empire will declare war whether it wants to or not."
Having said this, Gelie sighed with no small regret, "This holy maiden is still quite weak. What a pity — who knows how powerful she will be in the years to come."
Provincial Lord Xiaomo thought in practical terms, and asked at once, "Grand divine artist, what are we to do now? Withdraw immediately?"
Gelie shook his head again. "No. Send riders at once to tell the city-state to send up more supplies, then clear away the traces on the battlefield. Tomorrow we will lead the cavalry after them and say we heard that a powerful bandit gang had been seen in the desert lately and came to protect them — then escort them all the way out of our borders."
Provincial Lord Xiaomo nodded. "In that case, I will send men to the several high priests of the Memphis Temple with generous gifts as well. Even if they try to lay today's business at our feet, there will be someone to smooth things over for us."
Gelie looked at him with satisfaction. "Now that is what a provincial lord ought to be thinking."