Al-Uzza did not sleep well. The cold, rocky ground beneath her pallet beside the brazier remained cold and unyielding. It reminded her too much of her time as an acolyte under the harsh hand of the librarian who trained her. Through the night, she woke to the sound of the wind whistling around the tent and what felt to be the unnatural stillness of the night. Life within the largest city of the empire had made her forget what it was like in the wilds. It was a life that was pure luxury compared to what she was enduring at the moment, in her opinion.
Al-Uzza found her way to her feet in the deeps of night. Iona was resting beside the other brazier as Althos sat guard at the door. He held in his left had a bit of rope with a series of knots on it. Softly, he muttered his vigil prayers to Ashur. When Al-Uzza woke, he noted it but did not stir. His gaze was fixed at some point in the middle of the space of the enclosure. Though he was chanting, Althos was listening intently to the sounds outside of the tent even as he kept watch over the priestess and nun.
The vague noises of the encampment at night were quiet and suggesting that those who could rest were doing so. He had looked at the map that Iona had carried and estimated that they'd be through the pass by late afternoon. He didn't like the prospect of taking horses up a mountain but the insistence that they were trained for it made his argument moot. Althos felt somewhat grumpy with the entire situation.
He hated snow. Having traveled to all the far corners of the empire, the warrior monk hated the North the most. The lowlands were picturesque but the highlands were always cold to him. Dressed in the heavier clothing of the mountain people and sitting within the tent for the Lady Al-Uzza, priestess of Julara and emissary of the Empress, Althos figured he'd have been warmer. But a cold draft snuck under the edges of the tent to curl about him as he sat near the door flap. He had a heavy cloak wrapped around him but even that did little to make him feel truly warm.
Al-Uzza looked over at Althos. "How long is it until daylight?" she asked, stretching her hands towards the brazier near her.
"It is the fourth watch of the night. Dawn comes soon. I see you did not rest well. You were fitful and nearly rolled into the brazier at one point," Althos answered in his gravelly voice. Al-Uzza looked over at him. "What did you dream of, my Lady?" he asked solemnly, "It has long been held that our dreams are where the gods speak to us. It may be that Julara has given you some knowledge about what we are facing."
Al-Uzza scoffed. "It is more likely indigestion from those biscuits," she said, "My dreams made no sense." Althos tipped his head slightly to the left as he looked up at Al-Uzza. The big woman seemed larger by the light of the brazier. Her sense of presence suddenly was imposing and Althos felt a chill go down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold weather. Al-Uzza was changing. It was a slow transformation but she was moving from the luxury obsessed chief librarian to something more.
"Lady Al-Uzza of the North, your city awaits you under siege. Your sleep on the eve of coming into sight of that land may speak of portents. I am not merely a foot soldier in Ashur's army. I too have been trained to read the sand mirror. I was taught to read the earth and the sky for signs. As a boy, I was explaining how dreams had meaning to adults. That was why the brothers militant came and took me from my parents. Word had come to them from my village that I had the knowledge of a grown man at the age of ten winters. Speak, my Lady. I shall read the signs for you and tell you what awaits us today."
Al-Uzza considered what Althos said. She hadn't realized that the monk was something of a seer. It made sense, however, considering that they had been sent with a sand mirror. There had to be a seer to read it properly. "I dreamt of two birds. They fought in the air above me. One had great black wings and one was golden. The golden bird struck the black one from above and blood streamed down to fall over my face, more blood than was ever in any bird. And yet, I was not blinded. I could see clearly how the the black bird flew away with a trail of blood falling to the earth behind it as the golden bird wheeled around in the sky over me. So, tell me, monk, what would that mean to you?" she cautiously said.
"The gods are at war. Ashur strikes at the foreign god. The blood of that god shall fall upon you as they retreat away from the empire. You shall see the path to that god's lands and the way through their lies. But it will come with a heavy cost. Ashur's blessing, however, shall remain upon you," Althos said.
"You speak of Ashur's blessing but I am a daughter of Julara, not Ashur," Al-Uzza said warily. Althos looked up at her.
"You are changing," Althos said, "This land changes people. Some it drives mad. Others it drives deeper into themselves. Ashur's hand lies upon you and is shaping you for what is to come. The blood of the alien god will wash away the blessing of Julara, leaving behind only Ashur's will. It may have been better that you were forgotten in the library, my Lady. Your ambition is bringing you to a place you will never return from, even as you go back to the imperial city. Ashur has daughters. They are anointed in blood, not water. He lays claim to you. War comes with you, my Lady, and your hand shall bear a sword."
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