let me leave with him. That’s how I came to the City of the Gods and I have lived as a Freeman ever since.” D’Molay went silent and looked out to the wilderness again. He leaned forward a little in the cart in an attempt to avoid Aavi’s gaze. He hoped the girl had heard enough.
Aavi absorbed every bit of D’Molay’s story and was even slightly envious that someone could know so much about their own past. To remember so much about where you have been and what you had done would be exhilarating. She had many more questions she wanted to ask him about his past. How did he end up in Purgatory? What did he do once he got to the City? And why had he promised he would never pledge himself to anything or anyone? She did not think though, that the dark sadness in his heart came from his time in Purgatory. Whatever terrible things had happened to him must have occurred before he ended up there. Aavi felt she dare not probe any deeper into his past. She could tell that D’Molay did not want to discuss those times any more than he already had.
A moment later, D’Molay glanced at Aavi as if the discussion had never taken place. “We’re almost to the boat that will take you to Buddha’s Retreat,” he said pointing at a dark wooden dock on the shores of the huge lake. Through the trees, Aavi could see a red building, a few boats and a lone figure wearing a triangular shaped hat standing on the dock. She wondered who else she was going to meet in this strange new place.
Aavi and D’Molay
Digital Collage based on A Romantic Landscape with the Arrival of the Queen of Sheba (Samuel Colman, c. 1830).
Chapter 4 - Preparations
Quetzalcoatl sat cross-legged on a pillow covered dais in his temple, a look of worry on his painted face. As one of the gods of creation, he held a place of high esteem in his realm. His golden skin was tattooed with intricate symbols of his status and position. He wore large bracelets made of turquoise and jade and a large feathered plume on his bald head. Apart from that, he wore little else. He preferred to exist in the form of a large feathered serpent, but today he needed to conduct meetings with his priests and other minor deities. Quetzalcoatl found it was easier to speak and discuss day-to-day affairs in a less imposing form.
As light from many torches flickered across large stone pillars painted with detailed glyphs, a thin man wearing a cloak made of bright feathers and a golden headdress adorned with still more plumes slowly walked into the large room and toward the stepped dais. Quetzalcoatl observed the priest’s strict movements as he performed the ritual of audience.
“I favor you, Topiltzin. What news?”
Topiltzin bowed deeply as he took the last steps up to the dais. “There is a message for you from our spies in Olympia.” The priest held out a folded parchment that was secured with a ribbon and wax seal.
Quetzalcoatl took the parchment and opened it. As he read, the look of worry on his face changed to one of disgust. “I don’t care about Greeks chasing animals in some forest,” he said. “We have scouts everywhere, yet this is all they see?” He tossed the message aside, angrily.
“I do not know, my lord,” replied Topiltzin, bowing again.
“What do you mean you do not know?” Quetzalcoatl asked scornfully as he turned toward the high priest and put his goblet of wine on the floor. Topiltzin was one of his best servants, a crafty and intelligent priest. Quetzalcoatl found it hard to believe he had so little to tell him.
“My lord, all I can tell you is that we have not found anything.” Topiltzin looked nervous as he held his hands to his face in a prayer like fashion and tapped his fingers together repeatedly.
Quetzalcoatl decided not to punish Topiltzin for his unsatisfactory report. There were often happenings in the realms that even gods could not explain. “I know there is treachery afoot,” he said