The Seventh Gate (The Seven Citadels ) Read Online Free PDF Page B

and gave a high-pitched cry that ended in a long drawn-out
hiss. Gidjabolgo, whose ears were the sharpest, thought he heard an answering
hiss. Then a rope-ladder was sliding down the smooth wall towards them.
    “I am told, little Princess, that in some
lands women take the precedence.” O-grak tweaked Gwerath's newly combed hair. “But
if you went first this time you might find your welcome too overwhelming.”
    He straightened the ladder and it was soon
creaking under his huge weight. None of O-grak's men made a move to follow him.
The tall shaven-headed Orazians were all staring up at the entrance to the
tower. Then the Khan reached the top of the ladder and bellowed, “Ah, my pretty
one, have you come to greet me?”
    O-grak's men seemed to relax and one of
them indicated to Forollkin that he should go first. Gidjabolgo followed,
ducking to avoid the swing of the Galkian's cloak, and Gwerath came last.
    As Forollkin hauled himself over the
threshold into a small circular chamber, he instinctively felt for the dagger
that no longer hung at his side.
    “See, my pretty, the Galkian wants to save
me from your embraces.”
    O-grak roared with laughter at the
amazement in Forollkin's face. The great, green serpent encircling the Khan
rubbed her glittering head against his beard to regain O-grak's attention.
    “Shageesa, the one gaping like a vrork
that's just crushed its own eggs is Lord Forollkin. The accident of nature
behind him is Gidjabolgo the Forgite, and here is the little barbarian who
calls herself a princess. Come closer, all of you, and hold out your hands.”
    The serpent uncoiled itself from O-grak's
waist and slid languorously towards Forollkin. He stood absolutely still and
closed his eyes as the narrow head rose level with his own and a tongue
flickered towards his cheek. Within seconds the serpent had turned its
attention to Gidjabolgo and brushed playfully against him.
    “A pretty pet,” muttered Gidjabolgo, “but
doesn't it object to the murder of its relations?” He nodded at the tunics and
cloaks of green snakeskin worn by all the Orazians.
    O-grak grinned. “Shageesa is a queen among
serpents and does a queen care for the death of a few slaves?”
    The small chamber could take no more of
O-grak's retinue and the Khan had already started up the spiral stair when
Gwerath flinched back from the swaying serpent and Forollkin sprang in front of
her. Shageesa hissed in displeasure. O-grak signed to two of his men to push
Forollkin aside.
    “The tower serpent must acknowledge all of
you, or you will never be safe from her vigilance.”
    Shageesa rubbed teasingly against Gwerath's
cheek. The Princess of the Sheyasa stood motionless and Shageesa turned towards
her master again. The guards released Forollkin and he put an arm around
Gwerath's trembling shoulders.
    “Oh that's the way of it, eh?” murmured the
Khan. “I'd meant to put the Princess in my wife's keeping, but you can lodge
together if you like. A bed's a better place to worship the Goddess than any
temple ever consecrated.”
    “The Princess must have the best your
women's quarters can offer,” said Forollkin frostily.
    O-grak shrugged. “All Galkians are fools, I
hope you know that, girl. Now, before the rest of my men fall off the ladder,
come up and greet my wife.”
    The great serpent went first up the narrow,
rush-strewn stair. The speed and vigour with which she coiled and uncoiled to
force her long body upwards, was almost comical. Every so often, Shageesa would
turn and hiss reproachfully at O-grak, who followed at a respectful distance.
The steps were steep and badly lit and the rushes stank as if they hadn't been
changed for many years, but as the tower swelled out the travelers emerged into
a large, round chamber lit by a dozen unglazed windows. In the upper part of
the tower only the central stair was stone. The walls were wooden and brightly
painted with birds perching in leafy boughs.
    The travelers hardly had time to