The silence had been stretching for a while. Looking back and forth between the box and the magus, none of the men present seemed to know what to do with Master Jas’ar’s last statement. 

He stole from a god, Belili thought, remembering Master Jas’ar’s vague explanations. No that is not what he said. He said he took it from the ones who had stolen it first. The magus just hadn’t handed it back to the original owner afterward. To the god. 

Looking down at the small black weights, the idea seemed ridiculous. Sure, the decorations were of beautiful craftsmanship but it was so small and unimpressive. 

Gulan cleared his throat. “You are saying this is the property of,” he paused for a moment, “that this belongs to the Epi-Khmet’s god of the dead. The one that guides the deceased to the other side.”

Belili noticed how the healer didn’t speak the god’s name out loud. It was probably wise. She had been taught that calling out a god’s name would rouse his attention. 

“The great embalmer,” master Jas’ar said, nodding. “The weigher of hearts and guardian of the tombs.”

“…how?” While he spoke, the healer’s eyes were fixated on the box. There was a strange glimmer in his eyes that made Belili uncomfortable. The magus didn’t seem to notice, his attention on his audience. 

Ibilsin raised his hand, having finally caught himself. “What Gulan means to ask - if this is indeed the property of…the weigher of hearts, how…” He broke off awkwardly.

The magus smiled mildly. “How did the old jackal’s property come into my possession?”

“…yes,” the head elder said.

“It is a reasonable question considering the circumstances we find ourselves in,” Master Jas’ar said. “I can assure you, I did not steal it from its owner. The warriors that followed me here, far beyond the borders of their empire, are not his servants.” He picked up the lit and placed it back on the box. “You could go as far as to say they are enemies.”

Gulan blinked the moment the lid obscured his view of the black objects. He slightly shook his head and glanced around. When his eyes met Belili’s he frowned but then he returned his attention to the conversation. “Naset-ka,” he said. “Motar identified the warriors as temple guards from Naset-ka.”

“I know Motar,” Ibilsin said. “He traveled with the caravans for many years. But is the great embalmer not worshiped in both the Inner and the Outer Empire?”

“Indeed,” the magus said. “His cult can be traced all the way back to the beginnings of the first Epi-khmet empire and maybe even beyond. He also belongs to the pantheon of primordial deities worshiped in the Outer Empire. Shortly after the old empire broke apart though, the new Inner Empire shifted their worship to a group of gods now known as the Ka. Today this council of tutelary gods holds almost total dominion over the city of Naset-ka and all its territories.”

“I was not aware of this,” the head elder said, looking toward Gulan.

The healer looked thoughtful. “Naset-ka is far away and the Epi-khmet might have more gods than any other people. I studied some of them during my time in Saggab.” His eyes wandered to the box again. “But if the great embalmer is still worshiped in the Inner Empire, how could the servants of the Ka steal his weights?”

“They did not,” the magus said. “His daughter did.”

“Bechek,” Gulan murmured, while most of the other men exchanged blank looks and shrugs.

Master Jas’ar nodded. “She is a minor deity only known for supporting her father in his embalming work. At least until now.” He tapped at the wooden box. “Apparently, she was seduced by a member of the Ka and offered marriage and a place on their council. Until today the Ka did not have a god taking care of the dead. The great embalmer fulfills this role for all, staying neutral in the conflict between Ma-nefra and Naset-ka.”

“So, the Epi-khmet will have a second god of the dead,” Harbis said. “Why is that a problem?”

You mean our problem, Belili thought, the guard chief’s impatience too glaring to be missed. Considering he was responsible for the town’s safety it was understandable.  

“No,” Gulan said before the magus could respond. “No, not two. A new one.” He pointed at the box.

Master Jas’ar’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed.”

Judging by Gulan’s grave expression, he had just understood something deeply worrying. Belili hadn’t and looking around the room she wasn’t the only one. 

“It appears Gulan is ahead of us,” Ibilsin said. “Could you please share what all of this means with the rest of us?”

The magus gave Gulan an expectant look. 

The latter was suddenly hesitant to speak. “…the Epi-khmet empire broke apart over a hundred years ago. Since then, no attempt at unification came even close to being successful. There were some border clashes but both Ma-nefra and Naset-ka were hesitant to do what would be necessary for a total subjugation of the other. Men divided by worship cannot be unified as a single people.” He paused rubbing his chin. “If the Ka gains control over the connection to the land of the dead, it would shift the balance of power massively in their favor.”

“The Ka are a vicious lot,” master Jas’ar said. “Their ambition drives them to want to replace their primordial elders and this,” he placed his hand on the box, “gives them what they need to do it.”

For a long moment, nobody said anything. Everybody seemed to struggle to grasp the meaning of what had just been laid out for them. Belili felt almost dizzy. The talk of warring gods and distant empires seemed so far removed from her existence. It was something out of legend.

“All this sounds… very grand,” Harbis said slowly. “But I ask again – what does it all have to do with us?”

“Why not hand over the weights to the warriors and be done with it?” the magus asked, his tone light.

Harbis went rigid but to his credit, he held the older man’s gaze for two heartbeats before lowering his eyes.

“Tell me,” Master Jas’ar said, continuing in the same tone, “whose lands does the Outer Empire border?”

“There has not been a war between Saggab and Ma-nefra in a generation,” Ibilsin mused. “Even the last border raids are years back.” 

“At any given time Saggab has to deal with its neighbors to the north and east, as well as the regular incursions of the nomad tribes,” Gulan said. “In the same manner, the White City has to hold the majority of their warriors ready to counter Naset-ka. The South has been peaceful for so long because the Epi-khmet were too busy with themselves. If they were to unify…” He stopped, letting the sentence just hang there.

“May Urk protect us,” Ibilsin whispered.

Belili frowned and she wasn’t the only one. Clearly, the head elder had come to the same realization as Gulan and it terrified him. 

“I do not understand,” a younger man standing next to the opposite cot said. He had his arms crossed and looked irritated. “What is those foreigners’ squabble to us?”

“Peace, son,” the white-bearded man sitting next to him said, reaching out to pad the younger man’s leg. He looked at least as old as Ibilsin and his eyes were hidden by a permanent squint. “What our honored guest is telling us is that once the Epi-khmet are unified they will look north again.”

“They would dare challenge Saggab?” the younger man asked incredulously.

The many crevasses making up the older man’s face moved as he drew his eyebrows together. “Ah, but you forget that all of this once was part of their empire. The storytellers say the Epi-khmet ruled as far as the mountain ranges at the northern end of the Golden Road. It is said Saggab was little more than a large town back then. Of course, that was before my father’s time.”

“Once the Ka controls the access to the land of the dead, it will take less than a decade,” Master Jas’ar said, drawing all attention back to himself. “In Epi-khmet society, any man with a modicum of wealth is heavily invested in his and his family’s afterlife. Ma-nefra’s elites will defect in droves. Further, it will be relatively bloodless. Oh, there will be the cleansing of the ruling family and their hangers-on,” he made a dismissive gesture, “but the army - and more importantly the population supplying it with fresh recruits every year - will not be decimated by a bloody civil war.”

“Thus, they will have the strength to sweep north within less than a generation,” Gulan said. He turned his head, looking from face to face. “And do not forget – Urk is closer to the borderlands than to Saggab.”

Again, silence fell as the men contemplated what they had just heard. The fear of a brewing war hadn’t left a single one untouched. Even Harbis stood there, his arms crossed, his eyes unfocused in contemplation. 

It was the young elder again who spoke up first. “Is this not mostly just speculation? Even if handing over the weights leads to the Epi-khmet unifying - all of this will take years.” He looked around. “In the meantime, we save our town from unnecessary bloodshed.” A murmur of approval followed his words.

Ibilsin raised his hand. “Master Jas’ar, in the name of the elders I want to thank you for telling us all this. You have given us a lot to contemplate.” He slowly began to rise. “We will let you rest now.”

“You might be right,” the magus said, looking past Ibilsin to the young elder. “Handing over Bechek’s dowry might save you from a fight today. The great goddess was very clear, though. If this union comes to be, the Epi-khmet will come north, and not even the might of Saggab will be able to stop their chariots.”

Half-risen Ibilsin paused his eyes slightly widened. “Inashtar herself gave you this task?”

Master Jas’ar slowly leaned back until the wall supported his back. “The will of the Saggab’s great goddess has put us into a difficult situation. It is the lot of mortals.”

It took a moment for the people present to realize that the magus was done talking. When they did, they followed Ibilsin’s example and bowed, bidding their farewells. Harbis was the last to leave, waiting until the last of his employers had shuffled past him. The whole time he stood there, arms crossed and his head lowered. To the men it had to look as if he was in thought but from where she stood, Belili could see that his dark gaze was fixed on the box. When he finally turned away their eyes met and he drew his brows together. 

He knows that I saw him, Belili thought. She couldn’t help but be intimidated by the grim guard chief. 

“Belili,” master Jas’ar said. “Please, put this back.” He pushed the box to the edge of the cot.

“Yes,” she said, picking up the cloth that had served as a wrapping. 

Gulan crouched so he was at eye level with the older man. “Master, your pupils are widened. May I examine you again?”

His patient nodded. “Of course, healer.” His body seemed to slack while Gulan placed the back of his hand against his forehead. Seeing the lines in the old man’s face Belili realized how much strength it must have cost him to keep up appearances with the elders. 

Gulan retracted his hand and picked up the magus’ wrist, his lips moving silently for a couple of heartbeats. “Your fever has gotten worse but your heart is still strong.” He continued to examine the bandaged wounds while Belili placed the wrapped box back into the bag and placed it under the cot. 

When she was done, she stepped back, unsure what to do next. 

After a while Gulan rose. “There are no outward signs of a corruption or putrefaction of the wound but the fever still has me worried. You must rest more. I will brew some herbs that will support your healing.” He walked past Belili aiming for the door.

“Sit with me,” the magus said to her. “We might as well talk until I fall asleep.” He carefully lifted his legs back on the cot so he could lie down. Placing his head on the simple pillow he exhaled and slowly relaxed. “It is not my first wound but I have to admit, I was considerably younger the last time. How bad do I look?”  

Belili hesitated, unsure what to say. 

“That bad, is it?”

“No, I…” she stammered. 

The magus raised his hand stopping her. “I am teasing you, child. It is the privilege of the old.” He smiled closing his eyes. 

For a while Belili just sat there, watching the old man’s chest rise and sink. Gulan returned and started busying himself over his workbench. A moment later the grinding sound of his mortar filled the quiet room. 

I should let him sleep, Belili thought. Master Jas’ar was weakened and the discussion with the elders had fatigued him. She bit her lips. There was just so much she wanted to ask. Listening to the discussion had only added more questions. In all her life she’d never had the opportunity to ask about the world – to learn. It wouldn’t have occurred to her.

Now everything was different, though. At least that’s what it felt like. The short time she’d spent with master Jas’ar had changed something in her. It had planted a need that hadn’t been there before. She couldn’t go back to how it had been before. She didn’t want to. 

In the back, Rani came through the door, carrying a steaming clay jug. Gulan didn’t look up from his work when she placed it at the corner of the workbench and left. 

Don’t be a coward again, Belili thought. She gathered her courage and leaned forward, bringing her head closer to the magus’ ear. “Master?” She spoke in a low voice, not wanting to wake him if he’d already fallen asleep.

“Hm.” He didn’t open his eyes. 

Unsure how to interpret the non-committal sound, Belili decided to push forward. “Master, you said we will look into my…my ability.” She paused. “Will you take me with you?”

“Of course,” the magus said without opening his eyes. “I said I would take you as an apprentice.”

“…but I failed.” As she spoke the words, Belili could feel her stomach tightening. 

It took a couple of heartbeats before Master Jas’ar responded. “Belili, do you know why I sent you out there alone?”

She swallowed. “To test me?”

“Hm, yes,” he said. “To be a magus means you must possess the will and fortitude to face powers far beyond your own mortal existence without faltering. It is a hard thing to do even for a properly trained and initiated apprentice. You on the other hand grew up a slave. You have lowered your head your entire life.” He paused and Belili’s heart sank. It was true. She, a slave-born, had no business dreaming of rising to something this exalted. 

“And yet,” the magus said, “you came back alive. No, you ran back to help us.” He turned his head to her and opened his eyes. “Belili, the reason I sent you out there alone was because, in my current state, I could not go with you. Weakened and carrying this,” his eyes indicated the bag below his cot, “I could not risk facing one of those vicious beings. This wound might still kill me. Or my pursuers could. If that happened, your talent would be lost. And so, I gambled. A gamble with your life for your future. Insu has a mild temper as far as gods go. A mild god is still a god, though.” He shrugged. “We did not succeed in gaining you access to her power and protection but you came back alive.” His lips formed a rueful smile. “We will call on her again when my strength has returned. After all, the old cow does still owe me.”

“Your medicine,” Gulan said, carrying a cup giving off an aroma of boiled herbs.

Belili made room and the healer helped Master Jas’ar to sit up enough to drink. 

“This will help your body to heal itself while you sleep,” he said. “Rest is what you need most now.” For a moment his eyes flickered to the spot where Belili had pushed the bag under the cot. 

“Thank you,” the magus said, handing back the cup. “And do not worry. The box is safe.” He leaned back again. “Any would-be thief will become your patient for a long time. Or a very short one.”

It seemed to take the healer a moment to grasp the meaning but then he quickly smiled. “Of course. I will let you rest now.”

“The bandits!” 

The shout had come from outside. A heartbeat later Saras burst through the door. “The bandits are attacking. Come quickly.”

“Where?” Gulan asked.

Saras paused looking at him as if he didn’t understand the question.

“You say we are being attacked,” Gulan said, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Where? Which part of the wall are they striking?”

“…I do not know,” Saras said. “It is what they say out on the street. I need my sword!”

Gulan shook his head and turned to his patient. “I shall see what is going on. The townsfolk were alarmed and the walls were manned. I do not believe the enemy could have come close without being spotted.”

Master Jas’ar nodded and the healer turned the exited Saras by the shoulder and pushed him toward the door. “Come with me. The master needs to rest.” 

Belili wanted to follow but the magus’ hand closed around her wrist. There was a seriousness in his expression that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Follow Gulan when he meets with the elders and learn what is going on. Should it look like the wall will be breached, take my staff, the bag, and your brother and flee the town. Do you understand?”

“I...” 

“As I am right now, I cannot continue to run. I am not even sure how much longer I can stay conscious.” He paused and Belili noticed the pearls of sweat on his forehead. Had they been there before? 

“Go north to Saggab, to the palace,” the magus said. “Show my staff to the guards and tell them you are my apprentice. Ask to see master Mel’Chor. Can you remember the name?”

“Mel’Chor,” Belili said. “Master Mel’Chor.”

“Good.” Master Jas’ar nodded. “With my staff, they will not turn you away. People will ask you questions. You can tell them everything that happened except about the box and your gift. This is important. Reveal those only to Mel’Chor – you will know him by his staff and his ugly clay pipe.” He suddenly stopped and his eyes lost some of their intensity. “Do not worry. I can see it in your eyes, Belili. Your curiosity is greater than your fear. As long as your will stays strong, you shall succeed.” He released her wrist and fell back on the cot. “Go now. I need to rest.” 

As the old man’s eyes fell shut, Belili lingered for another moment, studying the deep lines on his face. For the first time since she had found the magus in the hills, he looked truly vulnerable. 

How could he expect her to do this alone? She’d never been away from Zabu’s farm in her entire life and now he expected her to travel all the way to Saggab. Alone. 

She clenched her fists. My will needs to stay strong, she thought, remembering his words. If I want to learn – to become a magus – I cannot be afraid anymore. She nodded to herself and turned toward the door. The magus didn’t seem to notice, his attention on his audience.