Hundreds of miles to the southeast of Port Dechantagne, the lizzie city of Yessonarah stretched across the sloping side of the great hill the lizzies had named Zsahnoon. Less than three years old, the city already housed more than 100,000 reptilians, and more were arriving every week. At the city’s northern edge, it touched the shore of Lake Tsinnook, created when the River Ssukhas was dammed. On the east, the city was protected by a great stone wall running from the edge of the hill to the lake, but there was only a wooden wall on the west side, and it had several large gaps in it. Amid a sea of square wooden houses were two dozen stone foundations that would someday hold important public buildings, but as yet only two such buildings existed. The first, the great palace of the king was in use, though it was only about two thirds completed. The other was the first great temple to the lizardmen’s god Yessonar.
High Priestess Tokkenoht stood at the top of the stepped pyramid, 130 feet above the city streets. The pyramid’s design was different from temples in any other Birmisian city, as so many things about Yessonarah were different. Each of the nine levels, representing the nine ages of the universe, was covered in smooth white limestone. The staircase running up the pyramid’s front, from the base to the top, was marble trimmed with red brick fired in a kiln, a process learned from the soft-skins. Behind her, the square vault was dark grey marble, with a copper frieze and a doorway trimmed in copper. And on either side of that doorway was a sculpture of the god, carved of stone but covered in silver. The top of the vault was of course flat, to give the god a place to sit when he came to visit.
The temple’s dedication was still three days a way, but everything was coming along. With a quick glance at the acolytes stationed at the vault, Tokkenoht descended the great staircase. A hundred or more lizzies, mostly new arrivals to the city, stopped what they were doing to watch her. She was quite a spectacle. Her smooth green skin was painted azure blue, with zigzag designs of bright yellow down her belly. She wore a cape made of feathers of all colors of the rainbow, from crimson achillobator feathers near her tail, to bright blue utahraptor feathers poking up to form a collar behind her head.
When she reached the street, the crowd parted for her, some of them bowing low. She hissed pleasantly to them and then climbed into her sedan chair, an enclosed seat carried litter-like by the four large males, their bodies painted white, who waited beside it. It was a not a long journey to the palace, but the streets were busy, so by the time they arrived, the sun was already dropping toward the western horizon. When the bearers sat her chair down, Tokkenoht dismissed them for the day and walked quickly up the steps to the residence.
“Welcome home, High Priestess,” said Sirris, waiting at the top. She had no paint or feathers, but wore a large gold necklace, with a Yessonar pendant.
“Thank you, wife of my husband. Were you waiting to speak with me?”
“No. I just stepped out here. I am on my way to check with Ssu and see that all the preparations are complete.”
“I will go with you,” said Tokkenoht. “I want to see the… what was that soft-skin word that Kendra used?”
“Children.”
“Yes. I want to see the children.”
Together, they walked through an ornately carved archway and into the royal gardens. The gardens were not particularly impressive at the moment, as the winter plants were past their prime. It wouldn’t be long till they were pulled out and replaced with spring flowers. But the colorful birds in the aviaries still sang and the fountains still sprayed their jets of water.
Just past the gardens were five plots of carefully prepared soil, and just beyond them, a huge cage. Built like the aviaries, the cage was a half dome made of mesh wire over a wooden frame. Unlike the aviaries though, which were twenty feet in diameter, this great cage was one hundred feet across. Inside was a carefully created environment, replicating the forests that stretched out hundreds of miles in every direction.
Ssu sat on a stone bench, watching the inhabitants of the cage. Tokkenoht and Sirris stopped beside her and looked. Scampering around inside the enclosure were some one hundred little lizzie offspring. Half of them were over a year old and already starting to walk upright. The other half, not yet yearlings, were still on all fours, scarcely thirty inches long.
“How are they?” asked the high priestess.
“They are good,” said Ssu, flushing her dewlap in pleasure.
“Oh, that one is mine!” shouted Tokkenoht, spying a blue band on one of the little hind legs.
Yes, things in Yessonarah were very different. Everywhere else in the world, female lizzies laid their eggs in communal nests in the forest. An old female was usually assigned to watch over the nest until hatching, but after the hatching, the offspring ran wild until they were captured and civilized into a lizzie household, or they were eaten. But here, in Yessonarah, the females were keeping track of their eggs and their offspring. What had started two years before as an experiment among the wives of the king, had spread. Now every house in the city was preparing its own nest for the coming spawning, and its each house had its own egg keeper. In two more years, the first lizzies ever to know their parents would be old enough to join society. This was the reason that so many lizardmen were flocking to Yessonarah, especially females.
After the servants had stripped off her paint, and she had bathed, Tokkenoht walked into the hearth room and lay down on her mat, in the way of her kind, on her belly, arms down at her sides, and with her nose pointed toward the central fireplace. She had almost dozed off when Szakhandu lay down beside her.
“You don’t want to fall asleep now, wife of my husband,” said Szakhandu. “It is almost time for the meal.”
“I might skip it. I’m not that hungry.”
“The king may want to mate tonight.”
Tokkenoht lifted up her snout from the mat. “It’s too early.”
“You don’t know,” said Szakhandu. “He is a strong, virile male.”
Tokkenoht rolled her eyes. “You are as bad as a soft-skin—always in season for him. You mate with him. I will make sure it is right with the others. For all the good it will do you. It’s too early.”
Despite what she had said to Szakhandu, Tokkenoht went to the dining room for the evening meal. It was a huge room, dominated by a round table, about which Great King Hsrandtuss, his five wives, and the other occupants of the palace were arrayed. Lizzies typically ate only once per day, but Hsrandtuss insisted on meals being served at the palace twice a day, whether anyone else ate with him or not. That was probably why he was getting so fat.
“What’s on your mind, Tokkenoht?” the king asked loudly. “You have that look.”
“I was just thinking what a great king you are.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Seriously. That is exactly what I was just thinking.”
Hsrandtuss was fat, and he was getting old, and his body was scarred from countless battles, but he still had a handsome tail. He made strong and healthy offspring. And he was a good and wise king. Those were all good things. But there was more. Only Hsranduss had taken the leap of faith to try something so radical as letting people raise their own spawn. Only Hsranduss had elevated his wives to positions of great power. Hsrandtuss was the first to follow the new god, Yessonar. Yes, Tokkenoht was glad of her marriage. She looked at her husband, wearing the jagged band of gold, fashioned to resemble the golden hat worn by the king of all the soft-skins, who lived far away across the sea.
Ssu was sitting next to the king. She was a simple female, but she was honest and diligent. That made her a perfect egg keeper. She had been Hsrandtuss’s wife longer than any of the others, and she was very attentive to the king, which kept him happy. Next to Ssu was Kendra. She was young, but she was small even for her age, a head shorter that Tokkenoht. Kendra had lived among the soft-skins, knew their ways, and spoke their oddly lyrical language. Next was Tokkenoht herself and on her right was Sirris. Sirris ran the palace and the family. She kept the peace among the wives. She also spoke many different lizzie dialects, which came in handy with all the newcomers arriving in the city. Hsrandtuss had stolen her in a raid on the rival village of Tserich, back when he was king of the village of Hiissierra
Attarkakhis and his wife Tulu, and Slechtiss and his wife Astalassa sat just on the other side of Sirris. The two males had been with Hsrandtuss for many years and now served as his generals. Tulu was a rather unintelligent female, but pleasant enough. Astalassa was very young. She had such a beautiful tail that she had Slechtiss and quite a few other males wrapped around it, but Tokkenoht saw her for the conniving little salamander she was. Then there was Straatin, probably the largest male in the city, who served as protector of the palace, and his wife, a thoroughly average female, Assarotoch. Beside her sat Hunssuss. He was a very old lizzie, chief architect and engineer of the city, who had outlived several wives and any interest in having another. Nevertheless, Hsrandtuss had given him a new wife named Stohlissia. She had been part of a gift from the village of Achocktah, designed to sooth Hsrandtuss’s anger after warriors from that village had tried to assassinate him. She’d been living in the palace more than a year, but she still hunkered down in fear.
Finally, between Stohlissia and the king, was Szakhandu. In addition to being one of Tokkenoht’s fellow wives, she was chief diplomat of Yessonarah, and the king counted on her when communicating with the many local villages and the other city-states far away. She had been born in distant Tsahloose of a noble family and had been bought by Hsrandtuss for her weight in copper. She was deeply devoted to her husband and he enjoyed showering her with gifts, but that did not necessarily mean that she was his favorite.
A long line of servants entered carrying trays of food, which they deposited on a long table pressed up against the south wall. There was fish and fowl, dinosaur meat both cooked and uncooked, many different vegetable dishes, and dried fruit, preserved from the previous harvest. It was the tradition for the wives to serve their husbands first, and around the table, most of the females stood up. Both Ssu and Szakhandu jumped to serve Hsrandtuss.
“Wait,” he said.
Everyone in the room froze.
“I want the high priestess to serve me.”
Tokkenoht stood up and walked around the table to the king.
“Do not forget, you may be the high priestess, but I am a personal friend of the god.”
“More than that, you are Great King.” She stopped behind him and pressed her chin to his shoulder. “More than that, you are my husband.”
Walking across the room to where the food sat waiting, she glanced over her shoulder to see that while everyone was watching her, Hsrandtuss’s eyes were following her tail. She gave it an extra little whip. She picked up a platter and filled it with a small bird, a small piece of cooked meat, quite a few vegetables, and an extra helping of fish. Bringing it back to the round table, she placed it in front of the king with a flourish.
Hsrandtuss accepted it with a grunt. Only then did the other wives return to motion, preparing their husbands’ platters and serving them. Once that was done, they got their own meals, Tokkenoht along with them. Szakhandu gave her a playful shove while they were looking over the fruit.
“I am worried, Great King…” started Slechtiss.
“Ssukhas!” shouted Hsrandtuss.
Several servants rushed in with big jugs full of the fermented beverage and filled the cups around the great table, starting with the king’s.
“What are you worried about?” asked Hsrandtuss, only after he had completely emptied his cup.
“I am worried about all the soft-skins down by the river.”
“Why are you worried about them?” Hsrandtuss waved the hand holding his now empty cup dismissively, and then held it up for the servant to fill. “Tusskiqu is there with one hundred trained warriors to keep the peace and collect the taxes.”
“But more come every day, and some of them are sneaking up to the hills to the southeast. They have been seen by our scouts.”
“Why weren’t they detained? Those hills are off limits to them.”
“Because they are soft-skins. They might have thunder weapons.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot! If our scouts can’t handle them, then they are to call for reinforcements. After all, we have our own thunder weapons, don’t we?”
“We want that information to stay secret,” reminded Kendra quietly.
“I know that! Why is everyone talking to me like I’m an addled egg?” He slammed his fist on the table. “Listen carefully. If soft-skins are found where they don’t belong, they are to be arrested and brought here, after disarming them and without harming them, if possible. Szakhandu, find out from Tusskiqu if he needs more warriors.”
“Great King,” said Astalassa.
Hsrandtuss glared at her as if daring her to say something about soft-skins or thunder weapons.
“Great King, do you really think Yessonar will be here for the temple dedication?”
“Of course he will. How can he miss it? It’s his first temple, after all.” He leaned back and hissed, happy at the change of subjects. “Like I said before, we are close friends.”
Others began talking, carrying on conversations with those around them. Tokkenoht picked over the dried fruit on her plate and let her mind wander. There was still much to prepare for the dedication, and despite what she had told Szakhandu earlier, mating season would come soon. That was always a difficult time. Finally, she pushed her platter away and got up. Hsrandtuss didn’t notice her leaving. He was too busy being fed by Ssu.
Returning to the hearth room, she lay down. She was almost asleep again when she heard someone lay down on the mat beside her. She opened one eye, expecting to see Szakhandu again, but it was Kendra.
“Hello, Kendra.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Then why did you come in here?”
“I wanted to see if you were all right.”
“I don’t know.”
She felt Kendra move over to her mat, pressing up against her.
“What’s bothering you?” she asked.
“I have this feeling,” said Tokkenoht. “It is a feeling that difficult times are ahead. Have you ever had a feeling like that?”
“Yes.”
“And what happened?”
“We were attacked by a pack of tyrannosauruses.”
“I hope it’s as simple as that this time,” said Tokkenoht, before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.
The next day Tokkenoht stayed home at the palace. She didn’t bother with body paint, but wore a golden necklace that was a near match for the one Szakhandu had worn the day before. She skipped the morning meal, instead spending a couple of quiet hours watching the—what did the humans say… children—scurrying about in the cage. She even fed them mice through the tiny openings. She tried to make sure that all those with her blue leg tag got something to eat, but didn’t begrudge it when the offspring of one of her fellow royal wives snatched a rodent from her hand.
Just after mid-day, Hunssuss, carrying a large rolled up piece of leather, visited her.
“Hello, Wise Elder,” said Tokkenoht.
“High Priestess. I have the plan for the Sky Temple.” He unrolled the leather on a table to reveal architectural plans. “The king wants to start construction now.”
“We have one temple,” said Tokkenoht. “Surely we should finish some of the other buildings before we build another. The public baths are needed, as is the amphitheater. For that matter, we could finish the palace.”
“The palace will be finished before the next bright face, just as promised. The king wants the temple started, and he is the king.”
With a sigh, the priestess leaned over the plans.
“No, this is not right at all. The ledges at the top of the levels must be narrower on the two sides. Then there must be two vaults of equal size at the top.”
“Why must there be two vaults?” Hunssuss gurgled. “The God of the Forests is dead. The God of Death is dead. The God of the Sky is the only one left. Why do we need two vaults on his temple?”
“Because that’s what the god wants,” said Tokkenoht. “If you want to argue the point with him, you are welcome to do so when he arrives. I am sure he will grant you a quick death.”
“If the young god wants two vaults, he shall have two vaults,” said Hunssuss. “I shall design a temple with three vaults if that’s what he wants.”
“No, he specifically asked for two.”
“I shall return when the plans have been redrawn. In the meantime, perhaps workers could start on the public baths.”
“Good idea,” said Tokkenoht. “This is why everyone says you are such a wise elder.”
Tokkenoht skipped the evening meal, instead sitting on the balcony just outside the throne room. It was the perfect spot from which to look over the western part of the city. Smoke rose from thousands of houses as the hearth fires were stoked up in preparation for nightfall. Just beyond the incomplete wooden city wall, she could make out some of the feathered runners, those that the soft-skins called velociraptors and deinonychus. They frequently gathered at the outskirts of lizzie settlements, to pick off those offspring that were too slow or too unobservant. Here though, there were very few offspring running loose.
Returning to the hearth room, Tokkenoht found Hsrandtuss lying on his mat, with Ssu pressed up against his left side, her tail draped over his.
“I wondered where you had gotten to,” he said, looking up at her.
“I’ve been home all day.”
“But you made no effort to see me. Don’t you miss your husband?”
“I’ve just been tired. Do you want me to rub oil on you?”
“Yes.”
She picked up the bottle from beside the fire and sat down on his right side. Pouring the warm oil into her hand, she rubbed it into his skin, starting at his shoulders and working her way down, paying particular attention to the long, ugly sword scar in the middle of his back.
“Perhaps being witch-woman is too much for a female,” said the king. He used the soft-skin word “witch-woman” instead of high priestess.
Tokkenoht gave an amused hiss. Hsrandtuss was not fluent in the human language and didn’t realize that the word ‘woman’ indicated a human female. To be fair, most lizzies didn’t. It was difficult for them to differentiate the sexes among the soft-skins, as indeed it appeared the humans had the same problem with them. This was complicated all the more because the lizzies had occasionally came across human wizards, almost always male, and usually referred to them as ‘witch-woman’ too. Only the most knowledgeable lizzies knew that there were but two beings on the continent, one apparently now deceased, that truly deserved that term. Tokkenoht had never seen either, but both Hsrandtuss and Ssu had.
“I am no witch-woman, but I will perform my duties as high priestess to the best of my ability.” She moved Ssu’s tail out of the way so that she could reach the king’s with oil.
“I know you will. If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have chosen you.”
She finished oiling him and put the bottle back by the fire.
“Lay here beside me,” he said. “You two will sleep with me tonight.”
Tokkenoht lay down and pressed against his right side. She lay her tail over his, and then felt Ssu’s atop hers. Ssu was the king’s regular sleeping partner. Rarely did he ask for one of the other wives, though they often joined him without being asked—especially Szakhandu. Tokkenoht rubbed her claws down the side of his stomach. He sighed, and then they all went to sleep.
Feeling less tired after a day of mostly rest, Tokkenoht got up in the morning ready to return to her duties as high priestess. She usually had one of the servants paint her, but this morning Ssu insisted on doing it. Lizardmen frequently painted themselves, the patterns indicating tribal affiliations and status. The most common colors were black and red, which were made from charcoal and red ocher. Less common was yellow, which came from a fairly uncommon root, or white, made from a nut, poisonous if ingested but safe for lizzie skin. The blue that completely covered Tokkenoht was almost unheard of, as it’s only source was a plant brought to the continent and cultivated by humans. Its use was as much a demonstration of Yessonarah’s wealth as was the gold that the king and his wives wore. Ssu painted the zigzag design of yellow on the high priestess’s belly, and then used the same color to circle around her eyes. It made her eyes look gigantic. After donning her colorful cape, she left the palace and climbed into her sedan chair for the trip to the temple.
Mindful that the populace would be watching her along the way, Tokkenoht sat up straight, folding her arms across her chest, her talisman and her spear held tightly in her hands, as the bearers carried her along. The spear was a tiny replica of the weapons launched by warriors with atlatls, the shaft a mere twelve inches long and the point made of gold. The talisman was a mummified lizard with four legs splayed out and with a wooden handle attached to its tail. It was filled with a special mixture of seeds and herbs, enchanted with magic.
About halfway to the temple, Tokkenoht was met by Xiosasatt, one of her acolytes. He was painted half white and half red, with a blue circle on his chest and on his forehead. He was of course on foot, and fell in step beside the sedan chair.
“The flowers have started to arrive, Your Reverence. They are being arranged, starting at the top of the temple and working our way down.”
“Perfect,” she said. “What about Yessonar’s meal?”
“It will be ready. The warriors have captured a saltasaurus. They will slaughter it when the time is right.”
“Tell them to wait for an order. He may want to eat it alive.”
“As you say,” he said with a shudder.
Suddenly there was a loud sound like thunder and the two bearers on the Tokkenoht’s right hand side fell to the ground. The litter rolled over on its side, spilling the high priestess out like a dropped basket of fruit. She dropped her spear but held onto her talisman as she rolled to a sitting position. She instinctively raised it in the air when she saw four lizardmen pointing human thunder weapons in her direction. They weren’t the small ones that could be held in one hand, but the long ones. She knew the human word for them, but couldn’t think of it at that moment. The thunder sounded again, as smoke erupted from the ends of the weapon.
“Uutanuhn, uutanuhn, uutanhn,” recited Tokkenoht.
The metal of the four weapons began to glow red and bend. Then the wooden portion, where the males held them, burst into flames. All four dropped them to the ground and turned to flee.
Tokkenoht stood up and looked around. Two of her bearers had been shot. One, with a gaping hole between his eyes, was obviously dead. The other was shot through the thigh, and blood was oozing out as he hissed in agony. The high priestess put her left hand on his wound, while she held her talisman up with her right.
“Uutanuhn, uutanuhn, uutanhn,” she recited again.
Her hand glowed and the blood flow stopped. As she stood up, a troop of a dozen warriors arrived from the direction of the palace.
“They went that way!” shouted Xiosasatt, pointing.
“Go with them,” ordered Tokkenoht. “You know what they look like.”
The acolyte hurried along after the warriors. Tokkenoht directed the two uninjured bearers to right the sedan chair, and then she helped the wounded lizzie into the seat. She pointed to two males standing nearby, gawking.
“You two, help them. Carry him back to the temple dormitory.” They rushed over to help. She pointed to two others and then at the fallen thunder weapons. “Gather up those up and take them to the palace.”
The two other lizzies hunkered down and tried to hide in the growing crowd.
“We will take them,” said a nearby female.
Tokkenoht looked her over. She was older with an ugly claw mark on her shoulder. She stepped forward with a smaller female that couldn’t have seen eight summers. Together, they picked up the four large weapons.
“Good,” said Tokkenoht. “Take them to the palace and give them to Straatin or Szakhandu.”
The two females started off quickly up the slope toward the palace. Seeing her ceremonial spear lying in the dirt, Tokkenoht picked it up, and marched off in the direction the sedan chair had gone, toward the temple.
It was late in the evening when the high priestess returned to the palace. The evening meal was already in progress, so Tokkenoht walked out to the garden instead, dismissing the servant who had temporarily taken over Ssu’s spot watching the offspring cage. Most of the little lizzies were hidden in the foliage, though two of the yearlings were peering out through the mesh. One of them had on Tokkenoht’s blue leg band; the other was wearing one of Szakhandu’s orange.
She hadn’t been there long when the high priestess felt somebody sit down next to her. She rolled one eye over to see that it was Hsrandtuss. He didn’t look at her, instead aiming his gaze at the cage.
“It’s hard for me to think of them as anything but pests at this age,” he said.
“Look at them carefully,” she said. “Those are not just any little ones. They are your children.”
“Well, they do look heartier than most.” He turned and rested his chin on her shoulder. It was an unusual expression of affection for a male to make to a female, though common in the reverse. “I hear you had some excitement today.”
“It was a minor incident.”
“Four males attacked you with human weapons. There are plenty of warriors that would have turned and run under those circumstances.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“No, I wouldn’t. And you didn’t either. You showed no fear. You defended yourself and then you took charge.”
“I was afraid though,” admitted Tokkenoht. “I was very afraid.”
“But you didn’t show it. The people are all talking about you. You behaved like a male. No, you behaved like a high priestess. This is why you are my favorite wife.”
“You tell all your wives that they are your favorite.”
“Of course I do. It’s my secret for a happy home life.” He stood up. Then turning toward her, he then grasped end of her snout and lifted her face up to look him in the eye. “Our offspring will prove to be the finest.”
The next day, Tokkenoht made the trip to the temple without incident. This time she was part of a procession that included nearly a dozen acolytes and hundreds of young females, dressed in garlands of flowers. She climbed to the top of the stairs and turned to face the population of the entire city.
She gave her prepared speech. Halfway down the temple steps, an acolyte repeated it, and another at the bottom of the steps repeated it again for the citizens on the street to hear. It gave the effect, from Tokkenoht’s point of view, of her voice echoing away into the distance.
“Today we dedicate this temple to the one remaining god of our people. We dedicate it to the Great God Yessonar, God of the Sky, God of Courage, God of Crafting and Manufacturing, and protector of the holy city of Yessonarah.
She had scarcely finished speaking when a shadow flashed across the sky so fast that many didn’t see it. Tokkenoht raised her hands and a steel-colored dragon dropped from the sky, landing atop the temple vault so hard that the entire pyramid shook. Since time immemorial, the lizzies had worshipped dragons, but one by one they had died over the ages, except for this one. Yessonar, God of the Sky, stood up on his hind legs. Almost a hundred feet from the tip of his whip-like tail to his head, he stretched out his mighty scale-covered wings and roared, the sound like thunder echoing for miles.
His massive head, covered in whiskers and spikes, dropped down closed to the high priestess.
“Well Tokkenoht, is that enough, or do I need to play it up a bit more?”
“Perhaps some fire.”
The dragon took a deep breath as he raised its head. Then opening its mouth, he released a gout of flame that shot horizontally across the sky from one end of the city to the other. Thousands of lizzies down below, on the street, dropped to their knees and prostrated themselves.
The great head, larger as the high priestess’s entire body dropped down next to her, so close she could feel his whiskers touching her.
“I hope you have something for me to eat,” he said. “I’m famished.”