6 comments/ 25414 views/ 14 favorites The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 01 By: TaLtos6 This is an offshoot of another tale of mine, "The Witch's Want", which is just beginning as well. In the first chapter of that, I offered a look at what transpired between the two people who were the parents of the male protagonist in that story, and it was suggested to me in a comment that it might be nice to see more of the couple themselves. So I thought about that and what the hell, you know? So here goes. I hope this is enjoyed. I did copy and paste a few lines from the other tale here and there, but not all that much. This happens long ago in a place far away - depending on where you live, of course. :) ---------------- The only light in the deserted market square came from the sky and it wasn't much. Rats were working over what bits of the day's refuse there were to enjoy when the vibrations came to them through the ground. One after another they stopped and looked around a bit nervously until there was a sound to go with what they felt. Several of the rodents hid themselves away a little, but most felt no fear in the sounds of approaching hooves. He sat in the saddle peering hard ahead. He trusted his war horse to find the best path for himself to a large degree, but he was still in charge of the route. He looked up and muttered to himself. Until the moon rose, there wouldn't be much to be seen at all. The other side of that was that no one could see him, and that was all to the good, but later, he thought, ... later when he returned there would be plenty of moonlight to see by. That was what he didn't particularly like. His road took him near to the crowded jail and he rode a little more cautiously, searching the shadows with his eyes as best he could. He was almost completely past it when a thin apparition detached itself from the surrounding shadows to step carefully closer to the middle of the road as he came. He reined his horse to a stop and looked down in a bit of amazement. "I did not really expect to find you here this night," he said. "I said that I would be here, "she said, "and you did expect me, I think, or you would not be here. You gave your word, and I know you enough that you would stand by it," the old woman smiled as he dismounted. "Such a beast you ride," she said quietly, "How am I to get up?" "After everything here, my friend," the soldier smiled, "I am sure that you will find the courage to allow me to lift you." As she found herself a little sprawled over the brute's back and sought to get herself positioned, he swung up carefully behind her. "He is as any horse, though if there is anything different about him, it is that if I urge him forward and the way is blocked with men, it is their hard luck, my friend. This one doesn't care a fig about riding men down. A little sad to say, but he is what I often need then." He carefully put one arm around the old woman and told her to have no fear. He didn't see it of course, but she smiled. After clearing the gates and feeding the sentries a good lie, it wasn't long before they flew along the road and the old woman began to grin. A minute later, she began to mutter her prayers and invocations, seeking strength and the will to finish what had been begun. ------------- There were still fires burning in the town the fortnight before when he'd first met her. He'd been a part of the conquering army that had swept the defenders here aside, though he'd been nowhere near the place he was sent on the lord general's personal orders afterward. As order was being established over the subjugated lands and people, He'd been given a task that he found a bit unpleasant from a personal view. He had no qualms or fears about being in the clash of opposing forces and smashing heads, rib cages and throats in the vicious and bloody trade of dealing death close at hand. It was what he was there for. It wasn't necessarily what he'd have wanted to be doing, but it was what fed him, and so it was his life. He'd been sent to finish the sacking of one particular temple. His orders were to leave nothing unturned and seek out what might have been overlooked in the way of riches or holy artifacts. It was important to the general that anything of this sort be removed from anyone's ability to replace or remake anything out of this, and when he was certain that there was nothing more to find or retrieve, ... He was to complete the total destruction of the temple. That was what had bothered him. It was one thing to destroy a people's will and hopes. That was war, and that was how the business of conquest was carried out, if one did it properly. But the desecration of a holy place -- a temple to some pretty powerful gods by what he'd heard, well that was something that he really wanted no part of, and not only from the queasy feeling of doing something wrong in that regard. It was something that was just wrong to him to begin with. Shortly after the last of the fighting, an old woman came to ask to see the commander of the garrison. She offered her help in finding what was sought, even before the commander or the lord general had thought of it. And of course, once the flame of that idea was set in their minds, they made her a prisoner until the one fighter who could be entrusted with such a task to the lord general's mind could be freed from his other duties and set to this task, and given the men and the horses with which to accomplish it. He took her to the place day after day, and she pretended to sift through the dust looking for things. But in a little while, she began to speak to him as an old woman would, and then it turned to how an old woman would speak to her nephew, and finally to her own son. He listened attentively as she read to him from the inscriptions on the pillars that remained standing and she told him of how the place had once looked with lush plant life both inside and outside. She gave him an appreciation of what it had all stood for and then she spoke to him of the gods which it had been dedicated to. Many people took one look at him and made their assumptions, thinking him cruel, or brutish or stupid and unfeeling, but she didn't. She knew that he could be like that, but usually wasn't that way at all, and he listened to her for hours as they walked while she pretended to look for what was wanted as she taught him the religion out of his interest. She knew him to be kind, and have a caring heart under all of that cruel-looking might and she was planting seeds in her garden as it followed her around and listened. After a time, she read to him of other things -- what was written on tablets which she somehow managed to pull out unscathed from the rubble in some miraculous way. A few days after that, she found a few trinkets and baubles so that he could take them back to the commander before any patience was worn thin. He'd submitted to searches of his gear and belongings every time, until the lord general got wind of it and had come storming in to put some fear of some god or other into the commander. This one, the lord general told him, could be trusted if there was ever one who could be. This one would execute his orders to the letter every single time, and he had better not hear that the fighter had been subjected to any more of this humiliation or the commander would find himself fighting on the line again before he knew it. When enough treasure had been found to satisfy the lord, the old woman had pulled the soldier aside one day. "Our time here is coming to an end," she said. "All that remains are two tasks; one for your general, and one for me, my young and handsome friend." It had made him laugh to hear it. "Your eyes look fine to me, mother," he'd said, using the polite and respectful term for an elderly woman there. "Even before I was given the gifts of these scars, the only one who said anything like that of me was my own mother, for any mother sees her son as the fairest anywhere. Tell me want it is that you want and I will see if it may be done. You have shown me kindness and given me help in this unpleasant task and I would repay you if I could, but mark you, I think that it would be best if you were not here to see the last of what I must do here, though I do not want to." She shook her head, "I must see it for myself, my friend, so do not trouble yourself over it. But there is something here which must not be given over to your lord. I hope that you have it in you to do what I would ask. The things that I would entrust to you must be given to another of my kind." He'd had a suspicion anyway, but now stared at her, "You -- you are one of them, one of the missing priestesses who are being hunted." She nodded, "Yes. What better place to hide than in their prison?" she smiled. "They will seek to kill me anyway once my usefulness is at an end. It matters not -- if you can find it in you to help me." He took a deep breath and then he nodded, "Tell me, then." --------------------------- The next day, they stood together a little way off, and when she told him that she was ready, he nodded to the men leading the teams of horses. With their yells, whistles and a few curses, the horses strained against their harnesses and the last two standing pillars of the temple crashed down. Despite what she'd said to him, the old woman hid her face against his chest and wept. ------------------------- They rode through the night as the moon rose steadily, coming at last to the ruined temple. He helped her down and she led him to a place in the rubble. "Please move these fragments," she said, "I grow weak now and cannot do it anymore." "I cannot see here in the dark," he said. He watched as she produced a small oil lamp from her cloak. He knew that it couldn't contain any oil if it had been there, but he stared as she held it in one hand and passed her other hand over it and when her hand was past, a small flame remained to burn in the lamp. It wasn't possible, he knew. There was more than a night breeze at work now and there was no oil lamp anywhere that would have held its flame here. When the place was clear, she sang to herself softly and with curious hand movements, and tones from her voice, she caused sections of the stone panels to move, seemingly of their own volition. She reached in and drew out a cloth envelope of some sort. "I placed this here when we first came, you and I," she said. "Over our time here, I have searched for what you needed, and while doing that, I have gone to hidden places in these stones and taken out these things to place them here against this one night and this one chance." "I wish now that I knew your mother for I would tell her of how proud she could be in you. She has done well to raise you to such a man, fearless and strong, and yet you have a good heart in you as well. You would do what is right when you see it and have a way that it may be done. It is a rare thing hereabouts." "My mother is dead," he said to her, "Bandits came out of the hills one night and slew my mother and my father as I was shepherding in the upper pastures. I was but a boy then of fourteen. I sold all of our flock and then I joined the army, since it was steady work and they promised me that they often hunted the same bandits, so I soldiered until I got my chance at revenge. Then I stayed, and here I am." The old one nodded, "A sad thing to hear, "she said, "I will try to find her if I may in the spirit world soon. I will be sure to tell her that you grew to be a good man. It is all that any boy's mother yearns to hear." He was still struggling with her words, but she laid her hand on his scarred cheek, "While we rode here, I told you the things that you need to remember, over and over, though you did not listen, thinking that I only muttered -- the name that you must seek to hear, the one that you must look to find. It will seem unachievable to you, but you must not give it up, and you do not have to search very hard, if my dreams hold true. You must only remember in time. That one will need help from you." "There is now a small papyrus roll in the pocket of your cloak. Hide it in your cuirass close to your shining heart," she slapped his broad chest. "Keep these things hidden against the day that you find the one that I need you to find." He stared at her, and she smiled up at him. "Do these things for me, son," she said, "and you do them for the one who needs them and maybe for yourself too. My gods are mighty and cruel, but they are also kind in their way. I have a hope that they will smile on you for your kind interest and the way that you have learned some of our ways and for doing this if it can be done." The old one seemed to struggle with a pain in her chest for a moment and then she smiled again. She handed him the small rolled pouch. "There is a space in the layers of the leather of your saddle where your right leg sits. Hide this there, and guard it if you can. Give this to the one. It will make all of this better in many ways." She bent down and picked up the lamp, setting it on a ledge. She carried on speaking, but the soldier stared at the face which was no longer quite so old. "If you find that one, say that the lock is passed and that I wait at the gated bridge for the new high priestess. Say this to me now and remember it if you can for when it is darkest." He struggled with it, his mind full of questions, but she was patient, knowing him. She held off his questions until she was satisfied, and then she gave him his answers. "This is all passing, but only for a time. Our faith renews itself always and you are now the proof, though you do not think it is so. But you know enough to be taught the rest now. Thank you for your kindness and help. I am certain that you will be blessed for it. I go on alone now." She straightened to kiss him softly and then smiled, only a middle-aged woman now and not so bent from her years. "Do not fear the moon's light. No one will see you as you pass. Fare you well, fighter." She began to walk away. He called out to her, "But, the jailers..." The stones which had moved now slid back to their original places as she turned back once before walking away down the ruined steps, "What of them? They will find the cold corpse of an old woman in the morning." The lamp blew out in the breeze and he heard her soft laughter as it faded. When he looked again, he was alone. He picked up the lamp carefully and found that it was cold and empty, as though it had never been lit in the first place. Walking to where he could look for her, he saw nothing, though the moon was now full and lit the landscape fairly brightly. He slipped the lamp into his cloak and felt the roll of papyrus. It was a little-used writing material in this place, but he supposed that it was better than trying to keep a clay tablet from breaking. He pulled it out and carefully slipped it inside the studded leather cuirass which covered his chest. He walked to where he'd tied his horse and found the place in the saddle, wondering how she'd worked the stitched layers apart as they rode. With a little effort, he slipped the pouch inside and he couldn't find any lump at all. He climbed into the saddle and turned the horse back to the town. When he got there, he found all of the sentries asleep. There was no one to challenge him as he rode past quietly. ---------------- Half a year later, the battle-scarred fighter walked along the corridor following the young palace servant. His head still ached a little from the wine of the feast the evening before and that was fine -- since there was a plausible explanation for it. But this here, he thought, as they walked in silence, this made him feel a little as though he was still drunk. "Tell this to me again," he said, "I heard what was said by the lord general, but this makes no sense to me here. Why is this being heaped upon my head?" The servant turned his head as he walked, "It is because you are said to have saved the general's life in the last battle at Kisura a fortnight ago. It was seen by many. Everyone talks of it. I have even heard the tale myself. It is said that you killed ten at the least and wounded twice again as many to get to him and then you stood back to back with him as you fought and killed many more, bellowing for others to come to you both. I have heard that you both had to stand on the dead as you fought." The youth turned to look at the fearsome warrior. "I do not know how you do it," he said, "I could never do what you do; face the things that you face." He wouldn't ever dare say what he really thought, but the sight of this mighty and rugged fighter would be in his mind later that night in the dark. He turned to look ahead again as he led the man. The warrior blinked as he looked at the servant's slender shoulders and hips as they walked and noted the movement of those hips under the tunic. In his entire life, he'd never seen a man walk this way before he'd been posted here after the battle. Here, he saw this not infrequently, but only in the palace and only certain young men did this. He shook his head and his gaze flicked up just in time to be looking when the servant looked back at him. He was surprised at the slight hope that he saw there. He couldn't believe it. What was this fool playing at, swaying his hips in an almost feminine way? It came to him a second later and he grunted to himself quietly. Not in this lifetime, he thought to himself. "You couldn't face an angry bee dressed as you are, and you'd need a bit more strength to you than what I see. You can't get that strength by lifting only platters and goblets to offer food and drink." He put his hand on the servant's shoulder to stop him for a moment. The young man almost groaned. "And anyway," the soldier said, "it is not exactly a choice that is given to me. I fight when I must fight. If I stand, I die. If I fight stupidly or half-heartedly, I die. All that is left then is to fight hard and for my life." He winked, "And if I do a good job at it, then I only MIGHT die. The worst is the first time that you kill another," he said, as though it was nothing, "you would likely lose your last meal right then, but there is no time to think on it, and besides, the thought comes to you that he was trying very hard to kill you only a moment before." He grinned, "That makes it all so much easier." The servant felt a slight shiver run through him over what was said, and a stirring at the touch of this man combined with a thrill of fear and uncertainty. He looked at the scarred face, suddenly understanding why all of the fighters drink so much at their feasts. In his heart, he yearned to know the touch of a man like this, but he didn't think they had to be all that bright to do what they did. They walked in silence for a minute before the fighter continued, "I have new duties. What of them?" The palace servant rolled his eyes, since the brute behind him couldn't see it and didn't seem to be interested in him. "Yes. You are to train the soldiers so that they may all fight like you and not look as though they were drunkards swinging rakes at flies." He turned back to look at the fighter, "I wouldn't know the difference, nor have I seen you in battle. But if the lord general commands it..." He left the statement unfinished. "And I am to be given quarters, permanent quarters." "No," the servant said dryly, "You have already been given quarters. We go there now. I have seen to it that everything in your tent has been brought there -- including the tent. I was given help to roll the tent up properly, though I don't know why it cannot be folded neatly like a blanket, but it is there now as well." "You roll the tent so that it may be carried on horseback," the fighter said, "It is the only way that it would work. But I can understand it if you did not see why at first. You cannot carry a stack of neatly folded things on the round back of a horse." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 01 "Well, it still makes little sense to me, " the servant said. "When I travel, I ride in wagons," he remarked with an attempt at superiority that was not lost on the fighter. "With the women," the warrior said quietly as a gentle retort, "and others who have no bollocks and cannot or will not fight for themselves but somehow expect ones like me to protect them when they have need of us yet point at us and laugh when they feel safe." He nodded once, "You would live longer on a horse. The wagons are the first of the inexperienced archer's targets in an ambush, since they are large and move slowly." The servant stopped. "Is this true?" "Yes," the fighter shrugged. "The archers that I work with are told never to shoot at wagons first. It wastes arrows better used later in the fight when you need them." He looked the servant up and down a little dismissively, "You ride in the wagons, just how much of a threat could you be? The archers are supposed to remove the real opposition. The ones in the wagons are as calves for the slaughter and put up just about as much of a fight. Yet this is what all archers try to do at first. I have trained archers before, and usually I must find the one bowman who cannot listen. I take his bow from him and send him to be a wagon driver and then the rest are cured of the malady." The soldier decided then to have a bit of fun at the expense of the foolish and hopeful young man. The gods knew he had little enough in his life to laugh about. But at the same time, he liked the boy and wanted to offer advice. "You have never been even close to a fight. But there may come a time when you could have need of other skills than what I see. You should learn to ride a horse so that you might live longer and be of more use to your master. It is something that you should think about." The servant didn't like the sound of it since there was the distinct possibility of getting dirty, but then it came to him that he might find himself near to men such as this one much more often. "Well I am glad that there are those such as you here now to teach these leather-covered savages," the servant said a little haughtily. Not being a warrior, he couldn't have known that his remark could be seen as an insult when in fact it had been an awkward attempt at a compliment. Walking behind him, the fighter smiled a little, knowing what was meant and why. The servant stepped ahead nervously and almost jammed the key into the lock in his hurry to open the door to the soldier's quarters. He suddenly realized the rashness of what he'd said and felt afraid to find himself caught and with nowhere to go. He opened the door and stepped back. The fighter walked past him into the chamber, but as he did, he caught the servant's arm and pulled him inside. He closed the door and pushed the young man against it, leaning close. "If you think about the wagons," the fighter remarked impassively, "and If you try to put yourself in my leather-covered savage's sandals, you would see that it is no treat to have to pull the injured and dead bodies off the contents of the wagon after the fight when one searches for something for oneself." He leaned closer to the thin youth. "Something sweet and ..." He reached out his hand slowly. "Pretty and, ..." his large and calloused hand brushed the backside of the foppish servant lightly with his fingertips. The youth almost jumped at the touch. "Soft and edible," the fighter growled quietly as the servant whimpered. But the fighter hid his smile at his own fun and caressed the youth's flanks to squeeze once, knowing exactly the response that he'd get, and when the servant tried to move his bottom away from the touch that he'd longed for out of sudden uncertainty, he felt the fighter's arm reach around and then he felt a tiny portion of the fighter's vast strength as he was pulled and crushed a little painfully against the studded leather. The young servant gasped but knew that he couldn't move, not even a little, and though he was frightened, he also felt the thrill of the solid hardness of the warrior's body under the leather armor. The fighter chose this moment to complete his sentence as he looked into the doe-eyed expression on the young man's blushing face. "And hoping to be fucked slowly for an hour at the least." He smiled, "Each time." He almost burst out in laughter when he heard the longing sound of the servant's soft groan. "P-please sir," the servant pleaded as he trembled, "I -- I have duties, I -- " "You'd love to be kissed by a leather-covered savage, I know this," the fighter nodded a little as he moved his hand to stroke the servant's ass. "No," the youth pleaded, I - I must go, I-" "Just think, "the soldier whispered, "there is no one here now and I am sure that there is a bed here someplace that you have made up very nicely for me. You could come and lie in my arms while I kiss you all afternoon." "No, please..." The soldier wanted to laugh, but instead put on a surprised face, "You do not want this, boy?" The servant shook his head with wide eyes, absolutely terror-stricken now. He wasn't inexperienced, but the thought of a man this large and strong... The fighter released his hold and took the servant by the throat. "Then tell me why your little stick here is as stiff as a rod. I don't even have to look to know that you have already begun to wet your robe from only my touch." He gathered a handful of the servant's tunic in his large fist and picked him up to press him against the door of his new quarters so that he could look into the young man's eyes. The young man felt the discomfort of the cloth pulled tight under his arms and the strange feeling of having nothing under his feet. He was scared to death and yet, he was beginning to feel a bit of excited joy at the same time. The warrior's expression changed suddenly,"We are not all as stupid as you seem to think. While you laugh and pretend to be better, we all know who the dying will fall to. Since you seem to like me so much, you can ride in my wagon with my supplies the next time that we go to war and you can please me in my tent at night -- every night." He leaned in close while doing his best not to laugh as he growled, "all ... night." He was surprised when he heard the groaning gasp from the servant. He hadn't meant for it to happen and had misread the state of the servant's arousal. The only reason that he didn't show his slight disgust was that in spite of this ruse, he actually liked the youth, though he wished that he'd drop the mannerisms that he showed. Even taking his desires into account, there was no need to fawn. He sighed to himself. He'd brought this on himself with his play-acting, after all. "A soft and sweet sound you make for me for so little effort. I could make you do that all the night long and you would ache for it again the next night." The servant groaned softly, and his eyes told of his fear. But all the same, the scarred soldier heard his almost silent whisper when he'd said it. "Yes." "We both now know what it is that you crave," the fighter growled, "If I hear of any disrespect from your lips toward the fighters who keep you safe inside the walls here, I will make your dream come to pass and it will happen as a certainty. And I am not always gentle." He wanted to roll his eyes here. If he spread the horseshit only a little thicker on this, he could begin work as an actor in the plays. "Now, what is this of a slave for me?" he asked, "I need no slave. I want no slave." "You are given one nonetheless." the servant groaned in dismay, feeling his erection beginning to twitch again to give him away, and it hadn't even softened yet. "Some she-demon from out of the dunes, they say, one who will not be tamed." "Say all of it," the fighter whispered, closing in on the young man's ear. "Tell me that she can't be tamed as easily as you." The youth nodded and whispered, "Yes, it is so." He let the servant down and let go of his tunic. As the youth tried to straighten his clothing while unsuccessfully trying not to look at the dark spot from his semen on it and how his erection strained painfully out before him the fighter reached out and took the youth's face in his hand, though gently. "Mark you this," he said, "I know what you want, but I do not want the same thing. There is a lesson here for you and it is as important as anything I would teach a fighter. Hide your young lust better than you do for your own good. You will still find many chances for what you want, but I do not think that you would want the roughness of being used by a callous fighter." "I do like you," he said, "but I don't want you in my bed and I have no want of you in the way that you would hope. Seek me out when you can, and I might find a way to arrange that I teach you a little so that you learn to ride a horse and also some ways to protect yourself. You could do with a bit of muscle on you and I can help you put it there if you would work at it. Then, with a bit of luck, I might arrange for you to work where I train. You would find some for what you want, and be a little less helpless and prone to be hurt. I have no wish to see you with painful tears in your eyes." He smiled, "You should stop looking like a frightened deer now." The servant smiled shyly and nodded, though he couldn't bring himself to face the warrior now, "I think I would like to learn these things if it can be done" "Good, that is the first thing that you have said to me today which does not make me wish that this was a bad dream. Now go and dream of me in your bed this night. What happened here is all that you will get from me, and I did not mean for it to happen," he chuckled, "You are far too fast." The young man hung his head in a bit of shame, but also to hide his happiness. He held out the key to the chamber and as the fighter took it, the servant threw his other arm around the thick and muscled neck and pulled himself up quickly to kiss his cheek and then he was reaching for the door latch in less time than it took to blink. "Thank you," he whispered before he opened the door and ran away down the long corridor, trying to hide his new arousal and knowing that he had a hard task in doing that. The battle-scarred veteran had him pegged and he knew it. He needed to get to his own quarters for a clean tunic. He hoped that there was no one there now so that he could find some relief. The warrior grunted in shocked surprise and looked at the key in his hand. If the youth ever tried that again, he thought, there would be some pain in it for him, though he supposed that he could understand. He shook his head and wondered what it was about living in a palace that turned so many of the servants into fops. It had been amusing for a moment, but he had about as much interest in the young fool as he did in owning a slave. He looked around. He supposed that it wasn't much to some, but to one such as he was who had lived his life outside for months at a time, this was a palace. He looked at how his things had been stowed carefully by the young servant. It was a shame that he didn't know how to do it in the most efficient manner. If you've had to carry your home on a horse or on your own back for any length of time, you learned pretty quickly the best ways to do it. The sad thing about it was that he knew why it had been done so carefully. He knew that it had been well-intentioned. The youth had obviously done his best, and he knew the why of that as well. The servant was infatuated with him, it was bloody obvious. He didn't know how he should feel about that. He'd never been the kind who wanted that kind of thing for himself, though he'd seen a bit of it around him in his day. He didn't want that. "Sorry for your luck, boy," he muttered as he set to getting his things stowed properly. With that done, he looked for and found a slightly loose paving tile in a storage room. Working it out further with his old knife, he removed it and set it aside. Within five minutes, he replaced the tile over the things that he'd carried for half a year and carefully swept some dust between the tiles. ---------------------- He was standing at the wall of the small terrace when he heard the knock on his door. He acknowledged it with a bellow and began to walk inside. He stopped and stared in a bit of disbelief. There were two of them now in his main chamber, the hopeful one was back with another, laying huge platters of food on the table. There was more food here than he'd often had to eat in a fortnight while on campaign. His eyes took in the two of them. By the gods, they were interchangeable, he thought. They looked different between them, but he saw the same shy and hopeful gleam in their eyes. He muttered his thanks, but they stood there side by side, looking at him a little expectantly. He sighed, "I have much to think about here," he said, "and I must plan how to begin to train many fighters very soon with only two days to think of how I am to do it. I have no time for anything else and even less for subtleties of speech. If there is something which you would say, then say it." The one who had led him here earlier stepped forward nervously. "I understand what you told me before and I now wish to do what you said if it can be. If you have need of servants at this school of yours, we would want to be considered. We will work hard and when there is time, we want to learn as well." He almost wanted to groan. What would he do with two such soft-looking servants in a fighting school? He shook his head, "I have to think of a place for storage to be built and I have no place for servants or food to feed them or any of that." The smaller of them spoke up, "I can build what you need and ... we can build it, and would work hard. Our overseer has too many and would want to be rid of us." He struggled for a moment, but then just said it, "He sometimes sells ones like us to the brothels and we want to stay together." He thought about it and looked at them. "You are lovers as well when you aren't lusting after fighters, correct?" They nodded shyly and he rolled his eyes. "Send your master to me tomorrow afternoon and I will see what may be done, but I warn you both. I want no foolishness here, and you must hide at least some of this, especially what is between you. Go, and do not be too hopeful. You may regret this, for I am a hard master, knowing little of the soft ways around this place and I do not care a fig about sore and tired bodies who suddenly decide that they do not care for the work." He found himself alone staring at the food. This was getting worse by the moment. He hadn't said anything, but he'd already asked for help and been refused with the explanation that no fighters could be spared to assist him. So now he was faced with two soft and hopeful-looking servants who wanted to work for him. He could only imagine the two of them in the midst of a pack of soldiers. At least two-thirds would want to kill them and the rest? He didn't even want to think about it. But he had an answer at least. It they were all that he could get and they were really interested in learning, then he'd teach them, he decided. He didn't really care what people did together in the dark, but those two? They weren't going to stay soft and helpless-looking for very long. His mind suddenly came up with an image of them chained together and being dipped in honey before being thrown into a pit full of warriors. It was an absurd notion, but at least it made him laugh for a minute until he heard the conversation outside his door. He stood up and stepped closer, overhearing the talk of - at least three jailers - he gathered from what was said. In another few moments, knew that his unwanted slave was about to be dropped into the confusion of his day, and a few minutes after that had come to him, he heard at least some of what had been attempted to break her -- unsuccessfully if he understood them correctly. He also heard their fearful talk of how she'd been able to resist or thwart them. Then he heard an approaching sound that he hated to hear, the sound of one in chains shuffling. He shook his head for a moment and then yanked his door open. "What in the nine hells are you doing holding meetings outside my door?" he growled at them. All but the chained one bowed low to him instantly, "We come with your slave," one of them said. He glanced at the girl quickly and meant for it to be only that, but his eyes went right back as he took in some of the beauty that they'd tried and failed to abuse, by the look of it. He could smell their unwashed sweat, but what he smelled most was her, standing there glaring and filthy. He began to regret the actions that had won him all of these "honors". In fact, he now wished that he hadn't seen the general fighting all alone in the battle surrounded by foes. "I want no slave." The most self-important looking one of the bunch stepped forward, plainly used to implying threats to others. "You have been given this one by the lord general," he said, with an obviously smug-looking grin, "You are responsible for her. You may refuse her, and we will throw her into the refuse pit to die. I will have to make my report that you refused the kindness of the lord." Finally, the soldier nodded, something in this day of mild horrors which makes sense. "I wish to speak with the head jailer," he said, looking concerned. "Well that is me," the toad grinned, beginning to stand up straight in an important way. "Ah," the fighter nodded again in understanding. His fist flashed out and the stooge stumbled backward. He held himself back, but even so, it took only a few more plus a kick in the ribs to bring the jailer to cowering on his knees. The fighter pulled him up and pushed him to the wall. He turned to look back quickly and the others backed away instantly. He looked at all of them, "It is my belief that jailers are less than worthless," he said, "you all like the job because it allows you to hurt or kill others with no fear of reprisal. You get a soft life out of it, but I have never seen a jailer yet who is as hard a man as he seeks to show." He began to slap the head jailer as punctuation. "You have no honor. You have no pride in how you look. You do not bathe," he looked down at the belly before him with disgust, "and you eat food that is meant for those in your charge." He swung his hand again and slapped the jailer before him hard enough so that his eyes took a second to refocus on his face. "Go and make your report. Say whatever you like. I will make my own report to the lord general of how poorly you treated the slave of a fighter who saved the lord's life. I will tell of how you brought her to me covered in her own filth and her sores from that and whatever else you have done. I am certain that you were only told to keep her there, not to do this." He punched the man several times faster than any of them would have believed possible and when he stepped away, the man was on his knees again, spitting out his teeth. The warrior felt a little better now, having taken out some of the day on this slug, but he was a little sad that in this place, it was likely considered bad form to kill anybody in the corridors. He glared at them all, "Show me that I was wrong when I said that you have no honor. Are there any of you here who would like to avenge your leader? That is what fighters do. None of the proud and mighty jailers wish to play? Come on," he said with a smile, "so that I might offer this chained one some amusement." The other three wouldn't even return his look. The one on the floor kept spitting. The fighter stepped over and pulled the head upward at a cruel and painful angle. "You. You will clean this mess before you do anything else. Hurry before your eyes close from the swelling. Then you will leave. I will tell the lord general that his jailers have gone soft from beating helpless prisoners and recommend that at least one ..." he looked down at the man, "be sent to my school to be trained." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 01 His own smile was very cold, "You might even survive it. Who has the keys to her shackles?" "We were told to bring her and unlock her inside your chambers," one of them said. "So jailers are stupid as well as worthless," he said, "Give me the keys or you will all look like this one. None of you could run very far to save your skins. Give me the keys now." They turned to go after giving him the keys, but stopped frozen in place when they heard his voice. "I remind you that a warrior -- even the lowest one -- stands far higher here than a worthless jailer. You would do well to bow before you leave my sight, or I will make you kneel to this one here." In a few moments, he was alone with her. He ignored her proud glare. "Can you even walk like this? They made you shuffle all of this way. Can you still walk?" She nodded, but her eyes spoke of her hate. "Come then, please, and if it is trouble for you, only say it and I will carry you." Her eyes flashed in warning and then she began to hobble. He sighed and waited for her before he followed and closed the door. From what he'd overheard, the gift of her wasn't more than a hope that he might be successful in killing her since no one else had been able to accomplish it. Since it was plain that he'd get nothing from her in the way of civility, he sat down to think. The rest of what he'd heard made him at least a little hopeful. She had been born a high priestess among her own people. She obviously carried herself proudly even after there were few left to worship the gods of her people since there no longer was a temple, other than a ruin on a hill, and there no longer was a people, other than several hundred thousand surviving as conquered peasants now. He'd heard of her before and now wondered how the gods had managed this. She'd come to him in chains, glaring and seething with her hatred for what his kind had done. The trouble was that she wasn't defenseless, and no matter what had been attempted to break her spirit, those who'd tried had most often ended up dead before her. They'd tried to beat her, whip her, rape her and worse, but though she was chained, she always remained standing there triumphant and laughing. Her gods hadn't forgotten her. She stood before the fighter, covered in the filth of her neglect at the hands of the frightened jailers. They hadn't fed her for a week, just hoping that she'd begin to starve quietly. All that they'd accomplished was to make her angrier. It was little wonder to hear that they were overjoyed at the chance to be rid of this one. She sneered at her new owner. She knew enough of their speech, and she was more than prepared to taunt him. "And?" she glared as she stood before him, "what is your first wish, the first of the commands from my..." Her nose wrinkled in derision and her voice dripped with her scorn, "master." She spit on the floor between them. He'd looked up from where he sat at the table in his new home, still wondering how he was going to manage all of this -- and just how even he was going to be able to eat all of this food here. He didn't much like what he saw. The girl was beautiful to him, despite her obvious hatred, and it shamed him to see what his countrymen had done to her -- or tried to. He asked her name, and before she could spit again, he added that it would be fine with him if she lied to him -- he only wanted a name by which he could talk with her. To her own amazement, she told it to him truthfully. She wondered then about the look on his face. "You are a priestess of the eresh-dingir?" She nodded, "The second priestess I was. What do you know of this?" "A little," he said. "Then you know what I can do to -" She stopped when she heard him try to speak her name and said it correctly on the second try. "Well," he said, "that is the first thing out of the way." He gave her his name then and told her that he never wanted to hear her call him her master again. "You have much pride in you still, and it is good to see. I have no plan to break that pride and I cannot think that it would do either of us any good." He said, "We are both here due to circumstance. I did not ask to be given a slave, and I did not ask that it be you. Until just now, I knew nothing of you at all but what was told to me far from here. But I will say this; we both are as slaves here and I have my own master, though I wear no chains that you might see. What I see on you there are nothing more than reminders of the ones which I wear, though mine are a little longer." He nodded, "On one so beautiful and proud, they are as sins to me." He gestured toward the feast on his table, "Please do not spit on my floor again. I think that I need the help of my new companion with this problem before me. Food such as this goes wasted everywhere here, and I see it as wrong -- just as I see those chains in the same way." "Be glad of these chains," she growled, "for they are all that prevent me from tearing your heart from you." She began to curse him and revile him in an unending torrent of insults. He listened for a time. Every so often, his eyes would widen at what she'd said, and there were a few moments where she'd almost stopped to stare at how he smiled to hear her curses. She did stop only once when he'd begun to laugh softly; knowing that what she'd said couldn't be done to oneself. Finally, he stood to step closer to her. She was surprised, but it didn't cause her to miss a beat in her scathing tirade. He held up his hand and it caused her to pause, still glaring at him. "What?" she scowled. He smiled, "You waste your breath on one such as me, my new friend. You know only some of the speech here, but you already use better words than I have ever learned or even heard in my life. By this, I see that you are very likely far more clever than I. It makes me happy to see it. I could use some help here from a quick mind." Her eyes went wide at this. "Help? You want help from me?" She seethed, "I could strike you blind with a word," she said, "I could burn the hide right off you with only three. I am not your friend, you stupid, brutish beast. I revile you and all of your kind, I -- " "I have little doubt of it, my friend," he said a little dryly, though she could see that incredibly, he showed no smugness or enjoyment from her captivity, "but I believe that you are at least limited in your ability or you would have waved your hand and struck down the host which rode over your land and brought you here to me in chains at the last. I know that you have power to retaliate if someone seeks to harm you." He smiled at her, "I also know that you may not use the same power to originate harm to anyone without cause, or you suffer some of what was sent." The priestess' jaw dropped in astonishment, "How, ...?" He looked away for a moment toward the terrace. "Not long after your land fell, I was sent to the temple to see what might be left as gold or riches in hidden places, perhaps, where thieves and robbers, and ... leather-covered savages might not think to look. It made me sad to see it, for I could tell that it had once been a wondrous and beautiful place. I had a prisoner there with me who read to me from some of the tablets and from the inscriptions on the broken and fallen walls which were lying in the place. From this, I learned a little - as much as my dullness would allow, before I completed my task and had the last two pillars pulled down, as much as I hated to do it. Perhaps the worst was to see the old woman weep at what was done." He turned to her, "So I must make my own apology to you, for as reluctant as I was, I had orders to complete the destruction, though to be fair, there was not much more to do. But I did learn, and so I know that you cannot do these things without cause, though there are other things which you can do." He looked at her with a small smile, "A stupid, brutish beast I may be to one as lovely, proud and obviously powerful as you, but I am certain that if you could, you would already be gone and far from here." He nodded once, "You have a very strong will and that is fine with me. I have the same sort of will myself. I try now to show you that you have no need of your loathing of me, for I have done nothing to you myself. I do have a small hope that you will let me have a turn to speak now and again and that you would listen, and if it is not too much to ask of you, I would like it very much if I could keep my sight and not have my hair in flames." In spite of her predicament and her hatred, the priestess had to work at holding back the laugh that she felt coming to her from his words. After a moment, she began to curse him all over again. He reached out and took her lead -- the single chain attached to her bound hands and walked away very slowly, mindful of her restrictions and began to lead her - still cursing - to another chamber. It took little effort on his part, but she knew that she had to follow or he would drag her and still use little of his obvious strength to do it. He noticed that she paused as she looked around her, and he held up one finger. "No spitting" he said. "None. Not once anymore in my presence. I do not know you, though I know of you and I cannot know how you came to be a slave. But I can see that it does not befit one such as you. Something like this is far beneath one like you, and I will not suffer it." She spit in his face. As he wiped her spittle off, she was a little disappointed that she hadn't caused any rage within him. She began then to ask him what he planned to do about it, but her vitriol was cut short when he picked her up bodily and dropped her into the deep bath. Before she could even move to reach the surface, she found herself staring at his face from very close up. He'd taken hold of her chains and pulled her half out of the bath and she hung in his grip where he held her, grasping the point where several chains crossed near her breasts. His voice remained steady. "If you can calm yourself here and stop the rise of your indignation for but a moment or two, you may see that I mean you no harm at all. I have no need or want of a slave. I will not harm you. You stink, and it is not your fault, but I mean to have you sit at my table and eat with me -- and not as the slave that I have no use for, but as one who is as imprisoned as I am." His face came even closer, "Until now, I have never kept a slave, but you have been given to me and I cannot change this, no matter what I might want. I will need to care for you when I am one who had only had to care for myself and the fighters around me. Use the mind behind those lovely and hate-filled eyes for a moment. I am trying to make the best of this for us both." She began to draw herself together for another blast, but he pulled her even closer to his face -- to the point where almost all that she could see were his eyes. What she saw then were the burning eyes of one imprisoned, just as she was though in a different way. She saw the scars of his battles even from this close up, and she felt his obvious might. She lifted her chin proudly as she spoke, "How are you imprisoned, warrior? You live in this fine set of chambers and you have your things around you where everything was taken from me. You call me proud and I am, but I have little more than that left," she said with a sneer. "How is it that you are imprisoned here? I fail to see it." "I am but a poor fighter," he said, "this -- all of this has been mine for less than a day. For almost all of my life, all that I am, everything that I have ever owned had to amount to what could be carried on the same horse that I must ride into my next battle, wherever the army is sent and then all the way back again. I did some deed for which I am granted this place, but it has not changed what I am. I am a lowly soldier. It is all that I have ever been, and I can only be a lowly soldier until I die. And I will not die with my children or my wife grieving for me because I have no one. Who wants a fighter? Fighters do not grow old, do they? We die when we are just a little slower than one who we must face and no one grieves then." He looked at her and she could see some sadness there. "I know but a little of what you were, though I yearn to know who you are now. If you could stop spitting and railing at me, it might come to you that I show you respect from one slave to another and even more because I have some small idea in my dim fighter's brain of what you have lost. You were given to me as a slave that I know only a little about, and that is by pure chance. I know nothing of what I could use you for. But I still wear chains, proud one. And my chains may be looser in how I am held, but they are still there, and they will be there until the moment after I am dead." "You might have to serve someone now and you might have to do things which you do not want to do, but my chains drag me through sun and wind and cold into places where I have no wish to go, and when I get there, I must fight. To the death, I must fight killing as many as may come to me, and no one cares if I grow tired or how badly I may be hurt. At best some fool may bind my cuts together with a dirty rag and I dare not show that I might not be fit to fight again - even though I still bleed from the day before." "I fight for a lord's will that I have no knowledge or understanding of because I am dull and no one would ever think to tell me of the reason because I am a stupid brutish beast, aren't I? What words of explanation are required for one such as me? They point, and I kill, or I am killed if I do not obey. Even if I obey, I know that one day I will be defeated. All this around us changes nothing. I am now to teach others when the army is not on the move, but the next time that we fight, I will still have to be there, no matter what my own will says to me." He saw that the way that he held her was hurting her and eased her so that she might sit in the bath facing him. She struggled for a moment, but he shook her once then and his strength surprised her when she noticed that his other hand was on the rim of the bath. He was holding her up with only one hand. "Stop this, if you have anything in your mind but your rage. Whatever you have suffered, I have done none of it to you. I fought in the army that vanquished your land, that is all, and I had no choice in it." "I am trying here to offer the poor friendship of a trained and tired killer to a witch or a high-born priestess or, ... whatever you once were. You can howl at me all that you like, but it changes nothing here. We are trapped and shackled together no matter what we would like. Think. You might kill me, or I might kill you, and for what? I try here to offer you some kind of life, and though you will get no dignity from my kind, you will get much from me, if you would only allow it." He pulled back a little and reached out to move some of her hair out of her eyes, "You are fine, and none of this befits you. I seek only to make this a little better for you. I want to share the little bounty that I am given, that is all." He watched as she slowly tried to lower her head, looking cautiously at him the whole time, but she stopped and grimaced before sitting straight again. "What do you try to do here?" he asked her. "I have thirst," she said, "but I cannot reach enough to drink without falling over." "Then sit but a moment," he said, "Do not drink this water here. It is not fit for you. I will bring you something." "No," she said, "do not bother yourself for me, conqueror. I am nothing now, and this water is good enough." He shook his head, "Water or wine?" "What?" He smiled a little, "I want to know what you would prefer to sip at first, and then fill your mouth with to spit at me. If it is all the same to you, I would prefer that you spit water on me." It made her smirk. "As you wish, warrior. if you are this kind - and foolish, I will sip - and spit - water." He was gone only a moment, pouring the water as quickly as he could and he'd done it that quickly on purpose. He heard the sound of the water and ran back quickly. He set the goblet down on the floor and reached into the bath to pull her up. He knew that she'd try to drown herself while he was gone. He pulled her partly over the rim and let her weight press on it so that she'd have to choke it out and breathe. As she began to retch, he pulled a towel over and gave her a target for it as he shifted his grip to hold her until she was done gasping. He set her back into the bath and rose up on his knees to hold her head on his shoulder against his neck. He glanced at the towel. It was what he thought that he'd see. Only a little watery bile. They hadn't fed her at all. "No!" she coughed and struggled, "Let me go! I must die, I - I must, I - " She began to weep bitterly. He stroked her back and her head. She still struggled for a time, but gave it up, knowing that he was easily strong enough to hold her here. She felt her face against his skin, her mouth against the side of his throat. She hated him for stopping her. She hated the warm scent of his neck. She kissed him there and hated herself most of all. The priestess opened her mouth and thought about it. With a little care, she reasoned that she might be able to bite through the artery that she felt under her lips. If she could hang on through his attempts to pull her off, he might weaken from loss of blood and then she could try to drown herself again and succeed. But ... She couldn't do it to him. She sniffled wetly, "You do not understand. I have to die now or soon. The power is shared and I am in chains. I can do little to help." She sniffled again. "If you let me die, all the power goes to the one who needs it. It goes to the high priestess so that she might have enough to wield for the people. Please, let me die. I will only try again for another chance. I - " she sobbed, "I do not want to die after all of this, but this is the first chance that I had of it. - " The rest was muffled in her sobs against his neck. The soldier found that he had tears in his own eyes for her, but only told her no. He told her that she had to live, and if he could, he would do anything to ease her suffering. She tried to argue as she wept. Somewhere in the middle of it, he moved his head and whispered to her. "Stop, priestess. Give me time here." He helped her to sit up and she stared as his tear rolled from his eye. He held her head, in both hands and stroked her temples gently with his thumbs. "I cannot fight your hate of me and what you would do as soon as I turn my back. When you do not spit at me and curse me for what I have not done to you, you would see me dead by tearing my throat out with your teeth. I know this already. I knew it as you thought of it, and I did not move, fearing that you would fall and hurt yourself here in the chains that I want to have off you." He groaned, "I will not harm you. I want you to live, here. But I cannot fight you sixteen ways at the once - AND you will not listen to me. By the gods - by YOUR gods, give me but a chance here. Calm yourself and we will see what I can do. I even have words for you, but I want you calm and yourself before I say anything so that I know that you hear properly and without hate for a moment." Her eyes widened. "What words?" He looked down and then locked his eye on hers. "If you do what you think to do, you would make the largest misstep. You would give the lord here AND the king the greatest gift that could be given them." He leaned forward very slowly and kissed her forehead. When he pulled back, he said, "For all of your power, you are blinded in your hatred. You are wrong, Priestess." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 01 "How - how do you know any of what is right or wrong from my side of it?" "I know from the words of an old woman." "What woman?" She wanted to wait for his answer, but she began to cough and her eyes filled with tears from it. He reached for the goblet and let her drink. When she was finished, she nodded a little and he took the goblet away and saw that she likely had some still in her mouth. He waited. "Spit then, it you must." She shook her head and swallowed. When her eyes had stopped tearing she tried to look up and show him her hate, but she saw only sadness in his eyes. "Why do you look at me this way?" she coughed a little more and then looked at him curiously. He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. "Please Niši-īnī-šu, only stop for a time. I have not hurt you and I try to make this better in what small way that I can. I will not hurt you, I have no wish of it." He slowly moved his hand toward her and touched her cheek with his palm. "If I had the way, I would see you free of this. But there is nothing that I can do. All that I can give is the same length of chain that I wear, and even this is more than you have. I try to lengthen your chains and make them as hard to see as my own. Give me some chance here. Do not do this." The priestess shook her head slowly before him, keeping her eyes on his. "And then what, my conqueror?" The sneer was gone and she spoke quietly, still showing her proud nature. "Am I to cower at your kind feet and service you in your bed at night like any good slave girl does, whether she wants it or not?" He shook his head, looking down for a moment. He looked up at her face in a determined way, "No. That is beneath you as well. We eat together and we talk between us so that I can come to an idea for what I need from you, since we are together here no matter what we may wish. You may sleep in my bed, and I will sleep on the floor, since between us, I am the one who most often must sleep where I can. It comes with the life I have. You are only my slave because someone above me wills it to be. For my part, this is all far beneath one such as you. Stand up ... please." He helped her to her feet and she stood compliant and followed his directions as he bathed her carefully, cursing the sores and the chains on her the entire time. She sat when he asked her to and she felt his rough hands as he rinsed her. He was apologetic when he washed her hair for her, and did his best. She felt those calloused hands on her everywhere as he washed and gently scrubbed the dirt and debris from her skin as gently as he could. It surprised her, how careful he was and he noticed her expression once. "I am sorry for what was done to you, and I know that my hands are far too rough for skin such as yours, but I can see that the way that they kept you has even made you soil yourself and I can't even think of it anymore, much less see it." She felt his hands washing the most intimate parts of her and by then she didn't feel much like being indignant over it. She found that her struggle then was not to moan when it came to her throat to do that. She did sigh once and quickly looked to see if he'd marked it, but if he did notice it, he showed her no sign that he had. When she was clean, he helped her out of the bath and she stood in shock as he dried her very carefully before asking her to come back to the table in the other room where she stood beside him. "I cannot feed myself like this," she said. "I know it," he nodded, looking at her, "I am considering. I need to know if any of my words have gotten into your head. I would hate more than anything to have to feed you -- though I would, and I will not allow you to eat like an animal from a plate on the floor. Can you not find a little trust in your heart?" She sighed, "I can. I see what you would do for me here." She hung her head. He lifted her chin, "None of this," he growled low in his throat quietly, "Never again before me. I think that you are such a proud one for a reason, though I know only a little of the tale. But I can see that it is not only because of high birth. I see that there is more to you. But I will have none of this head-hanging between us. I think that I would rather have you spit on me again than to see this. Please wait." He walked off and returned with a large dry towel. "I was given the keys for these insults that you wear. I know of what you have done to the jailers. I heard them talk among themselves outside my door as they brought you. I am pleased that you have ways to protect yourself, but these things must come off for I cannot look at them much longer myself." He held up the keys, but she stopped him. "You should know, warrior, that if these chains come off, I regain more of my abilities. I say this to you only because of the kindness that you have shown to me, but I feel that I must give you fair warning here." "Good," he said. Her jaw dropped. He shrugged, "So? Unless you can now grow wings and fly away, we are still tied together here. You might then be able to protect yourself even better, and I like the thought of it." He smiled at her, "And if you can grow wings, I only ask that before you go, you strike me dead. It will save the shame of having to explain how I lost you, though I would wish you well and I now do not want to think about the work that I must do if I have no one to revile me when I sit down to eat. I will remove your chains and shackles, and you may use this to cover yourself, and then, please, may we finally eat together?" The young priestess finally found a smile for him then and she nodded. "Good," he said, "I have need of your help if you would give it. I need a mind more clever than my own for what I must do soon." As the signs of her new and very low status lay in a heap on his floor, she sat and looked at him. He reached over and she flinched, but then stared at the way that he looked sad for it. "I meant nothing by it," he said apologetically. "I must get used to all of this," she said, "no one who raised their hand near me has had anything other than a desire to strike me since I was brought here and even before that. I am sorry now how I see that you take it. It was not meant that way," she said. "Listen then. What I wish to tell you is that if you can help me in any way, I would know of it, and I want you to know that between us here, I do not hold you as a slave to me. I would rather have a friend and an adviser. I have never had a need for a slave, and you being here now does not change that." "It does change things," she said quietly. "I was what I was, and I am what I now am, a little more and a little less as well. I am not free. I am a slave, though you do not want it. You are a lowly soldier, you said. But that is not what I see in front of me. I see a fearsome fighter, and no one knows what he carries in his mighty heart but the friend he has tried so hard to make in one who was once a proud priestess." She smiled and shrugged a little, "Without a temple, I am little more now than a witch, but that is of no importance one way or the other. I make my apology to you, warrior. You are not dim, or dull, stupid or brutish. I take my hard words back and I offer my help if you offer yours. I need to think of what was said this night, but I feel more behind your words than I think even you know and I will ask what you know of it later. We might use these chains that tie us and help each other. We may die in our chains here." she nodded, "Or we may carry them with us where we might go, leaving only the prison behind us." He smiled, but looked concerned suddenly, "You did not wrap yourself in the towel," he said, "Why? I will try tomorrow to find some clothing for you, but this is all that I could do for you this night. I could give you a singlet of mine, but you would be lost in such a thing. Still, it would offer you some dignity if it did not fall right off passing over your shoulders." She shook her head, "No. I am not cold, and I come at last to know the kind of man that you are. I feel no shame in front of you for you have already seen all of me that there is to see and you have washed and cared for me better than any of my own slaves have ever done in all of my life. For one such as you, it must have been hard with those hands much used to gripping a sword and killing to show me such care as you have. It shows how little I have thought about the lives of fighters and I am sorry now for I thought that men like you sought this. I never thought that there might be no choice in it. It may surprise you to learn that I am used to fighting myself, but with us it is out of the faith and not because one is forced." "Also, I am so hungry now that my dignity matters little, and anyway, I am a slave myself now, though I see that you try to ease this for me as much as you are able." She laid her small hand on the hand that would have done anything to have freed her if there was a way -- and she knew that. She looked at it and then up at him with a smile. "I see more than enough dignity now for myself in your eyes." He squeezed her hand softly once and then let go of it and grabbed his wooden plate and heaped food on it until it could hold no more and he placed it before her, "Then please, eat." He brought the goblet from the bath chamber, filled it with water and took the other one and filled it with wine and set them both in front of her. "We will need more of these things," he said, "but for now, use these." She shook her head, looking at his arms and the tendons and veins there, along with his scars. Now that she took the time for it, there was much more to him than his hard fighter's face showed and she knew that he couldn't help the way that he looked. He was a hard man -- it was plain -- but he hadn't chosen the way that he looked. It was how his life and the horrors of his warrior's existence had shaped him. He hadn't chosen this any more than she had chosen her life. And neither of them had chosen this. "We will share," she said softly. "You are very fearsome to look at, but I have seen some of your kind heart here. If we must be together, I see that you want no slave, but you would try to find something for me to do so that I might help you as you seem to want to help me. I understand these things at the least." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 02 It's always a little fun as a writer to take two characters who have little in common at first glance and toss them into a closed place. Without their lives to get in the way, a sort of human magic might appear and things can happen that would normally never be possible. You can doubt if you wish, but as an example, there was a huge power outage across the Eastern half of North America around 1966. Millions of people found themselves in the dark for maybe 12 hours or so, some of them in situations of close proximity such as stuck elevators. Nine months later, there was a tiny baby boom. Go figure. Anyway, we continue here with our unlikely pair. I can see maybe another three or four chapters coming from this and I hope that they're enjoyed. ---------------- As they sat eating an odd dinner in the strange situation, the priestess listened as the fighter outlined what he had to do, when it had to be done, and the resources that could be used to accomplish it. He mentioned the possibility of acquiring the servants as assistants, and then he told her of the stipend that he'd been given to run both his household and the school. All of this had to be planned so that he could tell of what he would do and what he'd have ready for the first of the small groups of fighters that he'd have to teach. He had to be ready to explain this in two days. The priestess listened as she ate carefully, not wishing to be sick from eating too much at one sitting after having gone without for a time as she had. After she was finished eating for the moment, he watched as her fingers began to move in what appeared to be patterns, slowly at first, but getting quicker as they talked. Finally, he asked about it. "I am praying," she shrugged slightly. "This is the reason that they bound my hands apart from each other and my fingers together partly. I am praying as I listen and think of what I might do to help you." She held up her hands separately and he watched her fingers. "It has been months since I could do this and now it is hard to do, but I draw comfort, ability and strength from this." She stopped her motions and went back to the problem at hand. She decided on the split in the money between the school and the other expenses and told him that she would hold an amount aside. When he looked at her with raised eyebrows, she told him that it was to purchase the servants. "Please," she said, "allow me to do the bargaining for them while you stand present. I am sure that I can get them and still leave you some of this." He agreed, and then the priestess leaned forward to stand and she saw her chance. In the blink of an eye, she seized his dagger, turning it to point at herself and clasping her hands on the haft of it. The warrior sprang up and clamped his hand over hers and a part of the cross guard. Before she could realize that he wouldn't allow her to pull it toward herself, he also placed his other hand on her breastbone to prevent her from pulling herself to the dagger. She then tried to get it higher so that she might cut into the artery on the side of her neck. He wouldn't allow that either. She glared at him as his words hissed at her through his teeth, "Do you not wonder how I know of you? Will you not hear the words that I have for you? And the old woman," he growled, "what of her? You miss something important here." She looked down and cried out because he'd cut his fingers on the blade trying to keep her from killing herself again. She instantly gave up the attempt. He stepped back with the dagger and laid it down on the table. "Hear me out, priestess, and then if this is still so disheartening to you that you feel that you must die, I will accept my failure and allow it." He pointed at her with his uninjured hand, feeling more than a little frustrated now, "But YOU must hear me out first!" She stood sobbing as she looked at the cuts. She took his hand in one of hers and passed the other one over it. The wound and the pain were gone, the blood vanished from where it had fallen on the table, the dagger lay on the table, clean. To his amazement, she kissed his hand. "Forgive me," she whispered, "In my haste, I have done something terrible." She looked up sadly, "I owe you much already, fighter. I have made it only worse for me with this here." Her head hung again and she wanted to weep, "I have removed my own escape myself, by hurting the one who is kind to me." They stood like this for a moment. "Your hand feels very warm," she whispered, liking the feel of it against her chest. He took the hint and apologized, but she stopped him and told him that she didn't mind. "I am so sorry that I hurt you." He shook his head, "I am only sorry that you hang your head again, for that is worse to me. Cuts are nothing new. There is nothing that I feel slight over and you have even healed it," he said softly. "I can even understand you. Only please allow me to tell you what I must." He looked toward the terrace. "It grows cool now. I will light the fire and close the shutters up. Please wait for this, and I will tell you everything that I know." He looked over at the sound which came to him and was startled as the hearth glowed with a healthy fire in an instant. When he looked past her, he saw that the shutters were closed. She shrugged. "I can do some things for us and save you the effort." He reached out slowly to touch her face, "Wait but a moment here, if you would. I have words that are for you alone, and I have things which you may need soon. Can you do this, or must I take the dagger along too?" She sat down again. "I have no escape anymore because of what I have done to you. I have lost my chance to pass the power on. I am a fool." "No," he said, "you are only too earnest and far too quick." "Perhaps," she said sadly, "but it is our way that kindness must never be answered with hurt. To do that only causes an obligation." She looked up at him, "You do not know of this, but it makes no difference to me for it is done. I am a slave to you by the will of your lord. You would have none of it between us, you said. But for what I have done here in my thoughtlessness and haste, I have chained myself to you more firmly than I was before." "As you wish," he said, not wanting to argue over a subtlety that made no difference to him, "though I do not consider it in this way. To me, it was a mishap, nothing more. But if this means that I might trust you with your own life for a little while, then I welcome it. Please wait," he said turning away, but then turned back a little, "and please be alive when I return. I need only a moment." She nodded, still feeling foolish. He walked away and came back a moment later, handing her one of his singlets. The priestess smiled softly and pulled it over her head. Just as he'd told her, it almost slipped over her shoulders to fall off, but he caught the open part of the neck and began to lace it so that it might at least stay on her. He looked at her and they smiled at each other as she brought her arms out through the holes were his were meant to be. "Even this cannot hide your beauty," he said with a little admiration. Her reply was a shrug and a grin, "I feel like a stick-girl inside a scarecrow, but I thank you all the same." It was only a singlet to him, but on her it reached almost to her knees. "This smells of you," she smiled. "I am sorry, then," the soldier remarked, feeling a bit ashamed, "I washed it in a stream with the rest of my things. I think it must smell from being against my other clothes in my pack. Take it off again and use the towel then." She shook her head, "It does not stink, it is clean. I meant that it only carries a little of your smell. I meant no offense. I like it." She saw the beginning of a reply forming in his mind and wanted to change the subject quickly now. "What is it that you must tell me?" "I cannot say that I know much of it," he said, "but I learned some of your faith at your temple. The prisoner who told me so that I might understand it was no ordinary old woman. She gave herself into the custody of the garrison commander freely and waited in chains herself until I could be summoned for the task that was entrusted to me. I cannot say how I know, but I believe that she knew that I would come and no other. I can only say this long after it was done. She taught me much." "Forgive me warrior," she priestess said, "but I see nothing here but a woman talking to a soldier and telling things to him that should have remained unknown to him. Why is this important to me?" "You did not listen to what I said earlier, priestess. I said that she read to me the inscriptions on the pillars," he said. "She also read to me from some tablets in the wreckage there. How they could remain unbroken is beyond me, but even I could see that the writing on the tablets was not the same speech as what was on the pillars. The woman was a priestess herself. She admitted it to me." "You make no sense," she said, "The last of the elder priestesses which we had there died the year before last. Most of us were young," she said, "the oldest was- " She saw him reach to place something on the table before her. When his hand moved away, she saw the small oil lamp and gasped. He told her of his time with the woman and some of what had passed between them. "The last time that we were at the temple, it was night. I could not see enough to move what she asked me to move, and she lit this with her hand. When she left me alone, the lamp went out." The young priestess stared at the lamp, nodding, "This lamp will only light and burn in the presence of the high priestess. It may burn oil like any lamp, but near to the high priestess, it burns by itself." She looked at him a little strangely and then looked ashamed. "What is it?" "I would wish to say that I have forgotten your name, but..." She looked mortified, "It would be a lie for I did not even try to remember it. I see by what you show me and how you treat me that I ought to know your name and well." She looked away and he saw that she fought back her shame. "I am sorry. Please, tell it to me again so that I might remember it now." He smiled, "My name is Lugalbanda and I forgive you this. I could see that there were moments where you had to think of saving the water that you held in your mouth." She was looking down a little, but he did see her eyes there as she looked up under her thin eyebrows and the small smile that she wore. "I had to choose the moment when I would share it with you. If I can be forgiven this as well, please tell me everything that happened again, and if you can remember, even the smallest detail." He told almost everything and watched as she sat with her head bowed, listening intently and moving the fingers of one hand while touching the lamp with the fingers of the other. When he'd finished, she didn't look up but he saw that every so often a tear would fall, though she didn't weep or sob. There was silence between them for a minute. "Besides the acolytes, there were six of us who were priestesses," she said, looking at him now. "Have you any news of the others?" "I did not follow it much," he said, "It did not concern me at the outset. But I have heard that two are known dead, killed in the fighting or shortly after, three are missing, -" "Two of those are dead also," she said, "I feel this in the power. That leaves – " "That leaves the new high priestess," he said. She shook her head, "No. That leaves the second priestess who is now the new slave, and the high priestess still free. I cannot feel her, but she must be hiding. Perhaps she is far away." He laid his hand on hers. Leaning down toward her he whispered, "No. She said nothing of her position, but I believe that the one who taught me who I must seek – though I knew nothing of where to look, and gave me words to speak when I found that one ... I now believe that she was the high priestess herself." She shook her head and began to protest, but he squeezed her hand to stop her. "Tell me of the priestesses," he said, "From what I know, there were no temple prostitutes, only attendants and priestesses." She nodded, "We have nothing like that in the faith, but we always maintained gardens where observances to the goddess of love by lovers were permitted. Some of the acolytes maintained the gardens, but they never took part." "Girl children would be given by parents to become acolytes and priestesses themselves if they learned what was taught and followed the faith. Most stayed only until they grew up. Some remained as acolytes, and some became priestesses, but none did anything like what you mentioned. The faith forbids it, though if a lonely woman wished to make observance to the goddess, she could do it alone there, or she might find a man there in the same circumstance. Sometimes, these lonely meetings became trysts where a love might be forged, and the two would become man and wife if the goddess smiled on them." "There are the lower four and the two high priestesses always. The lower four should be maidens if possible, though sometimes it might happen that one might find someone for herself and that was permitted too, but then that one could rise no higher." "Of the two high priestesses, the second priestess must be a virgin. In that position, that one represents hope and promise to the faithful. The second priestess has powers related to these perceptions and is limited in what she might do in the defence of the faith or in any other matters. Only the high priestess can act in offense to a threat. She is the embodiment of the great mother and may take a man as her consort. She carries the largest portion of the power." "I was not one who was brought to the temple to be a priestess," she said, "I was born into it. I was born in the temple itself, for my mother is the high priestess. My mother took Sin-kashid as her consort and became his at the same time. I served starting at the bottom and rose to attain my position as second priestess." She looked down, "I think that my father must have died defending against your army. I do not know what happened to my mother, but – " "Listen," he said gently as he looked at her, trying to catch and hold her eyes. "Look here, priestess," he said, "look into my eyes and do not look away. I am not fair to see, but your mind is like a bird who finds itself in a new cage and seeks the way out so frantically that it flits past the open door all afternoon. You may not like it, but the old woman – who was not really old in truth - must have been the high priestess, though I didn't know that she was your mother for she didn't say it. She told me that the faith always renews itself and that I am the proof of it, since I am now ready to be taught the rest. I was told that the one that I was to seek would need my help." He sighed, "That one I know is you, but I cannot help if you will not hear my words." She looked something like a lost little girl to him for a moment. She shrugged, "I am listening now." He closed his hand over hers, "If I know that two of the other priestesses are dead, and you say that two more are not alive from what you feel, that leaves only two; you and the one that I met. I have my reasons, coming to the idea slowly from then to now, but I believe that she was not there with me that night in her body, but only as a spirit or a shade. I lifted her onto my horse, and she was very light. I had to stop myself when I lifted her to get onto my horse, or she would have flown right over my horse's back. She was old, but I think that it was only what she showed to me, and at the end, she was much younger, though old enough to be your mother still and she was very beautiful. I now believe that she let her spirit pass when she left me that night, for I only looked away for a moment and she was gone." He looked to make sure that she heard his next words, "There was a bright full moon then, and there was nothing to hide behind and nowhere that she could have gone in an instant. She gave me these words to say to you; I am to say that the lock is passed and that she waits at the gated bridge for the new high priestess." She stared at him for a moment, shaking her head. "This cannot be," she said, "I have not felt my mother in the power for months, but it must be that she hides and needs my part of the power to act." He shook his head, "And still you do not listen to me. If the high priestess wanted your power to act, as you say, I think that she would have told it to me and asked me to help you in that, and not what I was told to help with." The soldier sat with his head on one hand, holding his other one over hers. He sighed, and lifted his hand to slide the small lamp to her. "Light the lamp," he said. "I cannot," she said, "I told you already that this is only for the high priestess." "Nevertheless," he said, "only try. You say that you owe me and feel obligated to me. You said that I made a friend in you. Then try this to discharge the debt and if you cannot do it for that reason, then only try to do it because your large and dim-witted friend asks it of you." She smiled at him for a moment. "Why do you wish me to try this?" she said. "I have no wish to take that place. If I took it, I – " He rolled his eyes, "You would have the use of the power. Since you told me that it is shared and there are no other living priestesses to share it with, then you would get it all, no?" "Yes," she said, "but – " He held up his hand. "Stop. The little bird is flitting around in the cage again. Stop cheeping at me and perch your pretty tail on my hand so that I might take you out of the cage here. You would get all of the power, yes or no?" "But – " He looked at the ceiling for a moment, "You begin to sound less like a song bird and more like a hen," he said. "But I –" "Shut up for a moment," he said. "Why is it that I must keep asking you to use your mind? Think of what you told me about the chains that we wear." Her expression went blank and he took it to mean that she was at least listening to him now. "You do not see what is plain because you do not want to think of why it might be so. I know your reasons, and I am sad for you, but it is before you whether you want it or not." He raised his head from his hand and took her face in both of his. "I have no wish to shake you again to make you see what is plain. You told me that we might die in our chains or we might keep them and leave our prison behind." He jabbed his finger at the lamp. "Now before you think to argue again or lay an egg here with your but-but-but noises, for your debt to me that I do not see – out of friendship to me, and to leave the damned cage here - try to light the blasted lamp!" For a moment she looked at him as though he was an idiot who required help to feed himself. She rolled her eyes and then passed her hand over the lamp quickly. "There," she said, looking at him, "are you happy now, soldier?" "Yes," he sighed. He grinned and in his face, she saw the glow and looked down. The lamp burned brightly. The young priestess sat with her jaw in her lap. She looked over at him, speechless. "You know," he smirked, "you make the sweetest-sounding gasp that I think I have ever heard in my life. I like it better than your hen noises." She shook her head slowly in wonder, "If you ever try to tell me that you are dim-witted again," she said smiling, "I will burn the hair from your backside." The warrior threw back his head and laughed, "Now that begins to sound like the friend that I had hoped for in you." "This helps," she said, "but there are things that I need if –" "Oh, now you find your interest," he said. "As it happens, I have more for you to see," he said, "things which were given to me to give to you." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 02 "Then I need a little time to prepare," she said. The warrior stood up, "I will lock the door then so that you are not disturbed as a precaution." He heard the lock on the door click shut. As he turned to look, he saw three heavy bolts on the door that he was certain had not been there earlier. His gaze went from one to the next as they slammed into place. His eyebrows rose to approach his hairline as he began to turn back. "That is a useful ability," he said, but whatever else he'd thought to say was cut short when he found the priestess against him with her arms as far around his ribs as she could reach. "Ow," she said, grimacing from the impact against the studded leather cuirass. She looked up at him and he felt her arms against his skin. He had no idea where his cuirass had gone. She reached up with one hand and pulled herself up a little to kiss him. "Thank you, Lugalbanda," she said, "but why do you help me like this?" "Firstly, because I knew you by your name as your mother told me. Then I was moved for you because while I am a fighter and much-used to killing and blood, I hate to see what often comes after – people in chains, when it should often be their leaders who are bound. It was much worse for me to see one such as you – even if you were not the one that I was told to seek – the way that you were brought to me, covered in dirt and consumed by hatred, even though you had reason." He nodded, "Now your smile is my reward, for you look so much better and if passing the things to you that I was told to pass brings you to freedom, then it is enough." She looked up at him thoughtfully. "I am not free yet, my large and clever friend, and if it happens, it will not be enough, not for me – not unless you are free as well." She kissed him again softly and gestured at the table, "Come. Eat a little more with me so that I do not feel so much like a glutton, now that I have a little more room." As they sat, she took one of his hands and began to teach him the motions. They were very foreign to him, but he began to get the idea and was able to move from one to the next by himself, though slowly. Once he had a grasp, she told him the significance of each one, saying that there were others and what one "said" was changeable depending on the order, which hand was used, and whether one's hands were used together. "I can recite two different prayers at the once," she said, "and even three if I use my hands together. The hand signs are tied to thoughts in the mind after a time, and so I can speak one prayer and say three others with all of them in my mind." She stopped as she thought for a moment. "If what the lamp here shows us is what is real for me now," she said, "then I must learn new ones. I already knew some of them in truth, but was never able to say the prayers before." He got up and picked up the dagger. "I will get the things that I have for you," he said. She nodded and got up to follow, carrying the lamp in the darkened room. The storage room was almost pitch black, but she crouched as he knelt and used the knife to pry up the tile. "If you must speak in here," he hissed, "you must whisper. I do not know what is on the other side of this wall here." She nodded. When she saw what was there, she set down the lamp and kissed him again and then whispered in his ear. "You must know that these are the things that your lord wanted above anything else. You help me so much, and now you risk your life for me." She looked at him, "I might have guessed that one of my faith might do a thing such as this, but ..." "I try to learn your faith," he whispered back, "for the gods that I was taught to believe in offer me nothing. No hint or hope that I will escape the sword stroke or the slash of the pike or the arrow that is marked for me one day." "Everyone must die one day, Nisi-ini-su. I know this. I am nearing my thirtieth year, being twenty-eight. I see fewer and fewer fighters of my age. I have never even heard of a fighter older than thirty-five, one or two legends, and in the business of being a fighter, a legend is one who is dead. I only want a different life for myself before the end." He looked down for a second as he reached down to get what he'd hidden there. The sounds that came from him were made more for himself, "It will likely never happen because of the way that I look and the scars that I carry, but one day, ..." As he leaned a bit and fished for the second item, he turned his head and it caused him to miss the expression on the priestess' face there in the dark storage room. She squatted holding the lamp for him in one hand. The fingers of her other hand were flying there in the darkness, asking questions, seeking answers. At the table again, he handed her the rolled up papyrus. "I have never seen something like this before, but I know what it is." She nodded, "Things such as this are used far to the south and west of here to hold words. Did you read it?" He chuckled, "Read it? You are lucky that I didn't think to try to eat it. I cannot read, my friend. Who would waste the time to teach me of this?" She glared at him, "Forgive me if I assumed it in error. I did not think that you might not have been taught, but do not dare to tell me of your low position as a poor fighter again. If I may not spit on your floor or hang my head before you, then I want no more of this from you." "Our floor," he said, "I will only sweep it half of the time, and you must sweep it the rest of the time." She raised one finger menacingly, "The hair on your backside hangs in the balance here. It would be much sport for me to watch you run for the bath with your tail on fire." It was as long as she could hold the glare now and she chuckled as she reached over to tousle his hair. "If you can sit still in between conquests, I would teach you." He was surprised, "Do you mean this?" "Certainly," she nodded seriously, "How else could you know what is important and what is not the next time that you plunder?" Before he could withdraw, she seized his hand and kissed it, "It was meant in jest," she smiled, " but I will teach you." She unrolled the scroll and began to read. He brought her bread and water. After a time, he went to wash and clean his old dagger and used it to cut meat into small pieces for her. She said nothing, but ate and sipped as she read. At times, she stopped to sit and look at the far wall and then he saw tears there, but said nothing. He knew now that she was reading the last thoughts for her from her mother. Now and again, he would see her looking at him in a strange way for a few moments. She said nothing of this either and went back to her reading most times, but now and then, she would smile at him quickly before putting her pretty nose into it again. Finally, she sat back in her seat a little away from the table and moved her elbows back against her ribs to bring her hands near to each other. "So," she said, "then let us see what I can do." Her fingers began to fly so quickly that they were a blur to him, but after a moment, her face showed her surprise. She moved her hands so that she leaned with her elbows on the table. After a minute, she stood up very slowly and stepped away from the table. "We go to the hearth now," she said, "Bring the lamp and sit with me." He stood up, watching her intently, but then remembered and picked up the burning lamp to follow her. "Sit there, facing where I stand," she instructed him, "sit with crossed legs there." She nodded at the spot, so he sat, setting down the lamp, looking up and watching as she slowly sat facing him. She moved herself forward a little until her knees touched his legs. She leaned forward a bit and placed her elbows so that they rested on both of them where her knees touched him. He stared at those small hands for a minute and then looked at her face. He found her looking back at him in an almost sublime way and the expression that her mouth showed slowly changed from one of concentration to a bit of joy and then he saw her soft smile. "Your hands," she said with a bit of care, not wanting to lose her place at the speed that she was managing, "Slowly now," she said, "grasp my wrists gently and only follow where my wrists go. Do not, ... do not try to hold them in place, only follow along holding them." She watched him nod and he placed his own hands carefully, asking if it was what she'd meant. "Yes," she nodded with a small grin, "Listen now, Lugalbanda, I will try this a little harder in a moment. You will tell me when you feel me – not, ... not that you feel my hands move, tell me when you feel me as I am in your hands and then inside you." He nodded, but had no idea what she meant. The speed of her fingers increased and then she began to bring her hands toward each other. To his amazement, she brought them together and from what he could see, the fingers of one hand never struck or got in the way of the ones on her other hand, but it seemed to him that they ran through each other. He didn't know what it was, but he did begin to feel something in his chest. "I feel ... something," he said. She smiled as she looked at her hands, "Well that it good, but it is not enough for us here, you and I. Wait." He looked at her lovely face, lit by the fire in the hearth from the side, and he wondered. If it were him here, he thought, his own face would be fixed and stern from the concentration of this – whatever this was that she was doing. Then he noticed the other light, the soft glow that lit her face from below. When he looked down, he felt his own jaw begin to drop. Their hands were glowing. It was very faint, but it was there. A moment later, his chest felt warm, as though he'd been working or fighting. Another minute of this, he realized, and he'd be sweating profusely. But it didn't happen. The warmth moved inward and after a moment, he knew. "I feel you," he whispered, awe-struck. She nodded very carefully, "Now, this is not a time for minds, warrior. Do not let your thoughts come in the way. You feel me and I feel you. Let us sit like this for a moment longer so that we might learn of each other." He nodded, since it was all that he could do, really. It was all that he trusted himself to do. He saw into areas of her heart and with that came some scraps of memories, glimpses of her life. He was surprised to see her with a sword, or with a sword and a dagger. A separate fragment showed her on a horse for an instant. All of these things fell away like a crystal curtain that he passed through and he saw her for once, on the other side of her proud nature, beautiful still, but also a little vulnerable and to his shock, it came to him just how deep he was here. He was staggered to see that she was also shy. More than that, most of her shyness concerned him. She looked and worked her way around and past his memories. She was searching for many things in him and what she found was sometimes like wading through an abattoir. It was no wonder that he was fairly quiet, she thought. He'd seen it all and carried enough horrors within him to keep any two score of people far from sleep for the rest of their lives. She saw his parents lying slain, and also the sister who had been so close to him. She found a young girl that he'd cared about but then saw her face when he'd come back to her as a young fighter. The priestess felt what he had when she told him that she wanted no part of him then. She almost felt herself twitching at the remnant memories of his many cuts and injuries as they flashed by her. She looked for cruelty in his past, but found none, other than what he'd dealt in battle, and that was only out of needing to save his strength for the long fight. He'd seldom felt hatred toward the ones that were arrayed against his side before a battle, but once it was begun, he just settled to it, hoping that the day would end and it would get too dark to continue. She watched him wait in a ditch in the sun for a whole day, from before sun-up for one rider to pass by. When it happened in the early evening, he stood up and drew back the heaviest war bow that she'd ever seen in her life and shoot down the two other riders before sending the third arrow deep and low into the spine of the one that he hunted as the rider urged his horse to gallop away. The closest thing that she saw to cruelty came when he'd walked up to retrieve his arrows for the man was still alive and begged for mercy, but Lugalbanda had only wrenched his arrow free and dragged the man out of sight of the road with the other bodies. He told the man that he doubted that he'd remember, but he was there to avenge the way that his sister had been left to die years before. He took the man's dagger so that he could not kill himself and began to walk away. He told him to hope that he was dead before the jackals were about. In spite of what he'd said to the man, she watched in an instant as he sat in the shade of some boulders, sipping water and watching until the jackals arrived. He used the same arrow again before they really got started. She looked for any attachments in him and found none, after mistaking some glimpses of him with several different women for love. It had only been his memories of what he'd paid for now and then. There had been women that he'd looked at and had a thought about, but he knew his place. To most, he looked to be too much of a killer to be attractive and many women stepped back out of nervousness when he walked by. And anyway, he was a fighter after all, good to have close by if one had the need of him and his kind, and fun to make jokes about from behind them. A brute such as him could never understand if he'd heard anyway. She heard the words and knew that he'd heard them too or they wouldn't be here for her to sift through. She looked at is heart and liked it, seeing at once that everything that he'd told her was the truth. She even saw herself there. Her intellect came to a decision and she spoke into his mind. "I feel that you have no one for you," she said, "and you believe that no one cares whether you live or whether you die." Her fingers moved only quicker, never slowing up even a little. "You now have someone who cares." The fighter stared, his eyes moving from her hands to her face and back. Finally, there was no way to resist the draw and he looked at her face in wonder. "No thoughts here, warrior, only what you feel of me and the wonder that I feel of you. I will suffer no argument here in this place between us. I only guide you this once and if you wish, we can come here often." "If the world were a garden, warrior," the thoughts rang in his head, "and there were no wars for you, would you want me there? Would you want a high priestess with no temple? I tell you that I would want a certain warrior with no wars chosen by others, a soldier in no one's army but his own – the one that he shares with me. Would you want me then? Would you want me if there are wars and grasping, greedy kings? Would you fight for me and beside me if I do the same for you?" She paused as his answers came to her mind. "Then hear me. We are chained here for this time, but after, there will still be chains between you and I. I have bound the chain that you did not wish onto myself when I hurt you. I cursed this at first, but now I welcome it, knowing that it was to be put there just as I now know that I could not give you a false name when you asked for how I am called. I am ready to put my own chain on you, my unexpected friend. Would you see it as a bridle, something that holds you and chafes against your will? Would you welcome it as part of the strength that we might share between us? Would you ask for this?" "I see how you hold me in your heart. So I say this; I will not die here in this place and neither will you. We will leave the prison behind us. I will follow you and you will follow me, however the road leads us, but we will remain together because of these chains. I will never leave you behind when I leave this place or any other. We begin at any time, warrior. I hear your answers and you now have mine. I have made my choice." "This is new to you, what we do here, and you may forget some of it. I will remind you now and again. If you have trouble, then remember only this one thing..." "I have made my choice." The last thing that he saw was that her fingers slowed to a stop. After that, the priestess sprang up to help him lie back. It was all that she could do so suddenly, but she found enough strength to ease him down so that he didn't strike his head on the stones of the hearth. She knelt and looked down at him smiling as she brushed a lock of his hair out of his eyes. "It is almost done, Lugalbanda," she said softly, "I have used no charms or magic, beyond taking you to a place where the talk is honest between us and there can be no lies or cautious words." She began to trace some of his scars with her fingertips very lightly, "The gods know that it was likely the only way to get beyond the thick shell over your heart here. Certainly my mother did, or I would not have tried this with you, what she wrote for me to do in the scroll. I have always given her a good fight when she told me what to do and what must be done, but the time for that is over, and I see her wisdom differently now. I will never make the mistakes that she knew that she made in her time." She leaned down to kiss his lips very softly, "I never thought that for one so quiet, the words of your heart would be so loud. I only thought that you were patient with me and polite. The thickness of your mighty scarred chest here hides your feelings well. I will do what I can to keep arrows and swords from adding more on top or getting through. You give me gifts in what you brought to me, but I know the greatest prize when I see it before me here." The thought crossed her mind that the very chains that she'd spoken of could also hold two people together who hated each other, but she knew what she was and she'd make the changes in herself. For him, it was worth it to come down from her high perch since right now, she was only the high priestess to one very special warrior. He was a warrior, but out of his hunger, she would make him into what the faith had never had, and after he became her warrior-priest, well, ... She saw the makings of a king in him. She had to allow him the room to grow into these things. -------------------------- He came to himself with his head down on the table. He sat up and wondered how he'd gotten from the floor by the hearth to here. She noticed that he was awake and smiled. "Wine," she said, offering him the goblet. "I have not had any," he said, sitting up fully and giving his head a shake. "That is so," she grinned, "only have a little now and I will tell you what you would know." He took the goblet. "How did I get..." "We were there and now we are here," she shrugged. "Do you remember our talk inside then? You fell into the trance. It will not happen again, only the first time." He thought about it and remembered, "Yes, but I don't think that I can remember everything." She nodded, "It is alright, Lugalbanda, as long as you remember the feeling of the whole. Can you remember this?" He nodded cautiously, "Nisi-ini-su, ... what I said then ..." She chuckled as she waved her finger, "What you said then was the sound made by your large heart howling out its hope in truth, not the careful words that you would tell me now. There are no swords or blades or arrows in that place and there are none here between us. We have seen each other's hearts and so it is done, Lugalbanda – enough for us to begin when we do." "But –" She grinned at him, "Oh please, mighty one," she said, "please begin now to make your own hen sounds to me." She reached over, "Give me your hand." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 02 When she held his hand, she smiled at him, "If I am to take up the task and be what you tell me that I must be, then it must go a certain way. High priestesses must have a consort. My mother's failing that she wrote on the scroll was that she took up the mantle too soon and took the man when they had fallen for each other. I do not have this luxury, nor do I want to do it this way." "Inside a fighter, I found the heart of a fighter, but one who is not cruel and cares much for a new slave. Inside a priestess, you found a shy woman who feels much for the fighter, and that is the truth of it. Do not fear, I did not use you or trick you. I have my feelings and you have yours. All that was done was to say it. And there is more to do yet, for we cannot go hand in hand and be in joyful love like young lovers in a meadow until there is more between us than this." She chuckled and then laughed for a moment. "I am only almost as bewildered as I was before," he said, "Why do you laugh?" "I imagined two such as us skipping in the meadow," she grinned. "We are still chained here. I must learn and settle in with what is given me, and you must start your school. But at the least we now know that we have each other. It was all that was meant to be shown to us. I asked my questions and I heard you. It counts for much." She smiled at him, "And unless you really are dull and dim-witted, I think that you should feel a little happy for my answers then." He thought about it and it made her grin when she saw the warmth of his smile. "What are we then?" he asked her. "We are two who care for each other," she said, "From what I know, we will love each other somehow and sometime. We are friends, and from the things that are shown to me, all of this will last long, and I can say that inside me, I am happy for this – even only this right now. In spite of my scorn and my pride, you held out your hand and offered kindness. In spite of your thoughts, I have eyes that see your beauty below your scars." She smiled with a little shrug, "I like what I see." She squeezed his hand, "I have my friend who cares for me in this place where no one does, far from where I had anyone. Now, everything is gone. The temple where I was born is no more. My mother and all of the others are dead. But I still live and I have my friend. He is what I want him to be, and so I have made my choice. Now, two friends can rise from nothing, and see what they might become. Can you understand this?" "A little," he said, "but I do not see the way that you do." "Not yet," she smiled as she got up and walked to sit on him so that she could kiss him for a moment. She felt happy to feel that he returned it and it cost them a few minutes. She smiled afterward and shrugged, "We use what was given to us, and I have seen my mother's failings as she told me of them. I have also given thought to how it would be best for us to go forward." She took his hand and pulled it to her haunch under the singlet. "What do you feel there?" "Soft and smooth skin," he said, looking confused. "What do you not feel?" she smiled, "What was there when I came to you?" "Dirt, and chains and ..." She nodded, "The dirt you removed, the chains too, though there is another one that I placed on myself in what I thought was my error. It was not so. This was what your not-so-old witch-friend did to tie her foolish daughter to a mighty one with far more sense and patience than the daughter has ever had. In her scroll there, she mentions this last gift that she gives us both. It is the same sort of chain that I place on you - the one that you accepted when I asked there by the hearth and it cannot be seen, but the sores are gone, now that I can help myself, and it is by your hand that it is so." She took his hand away and kissed it softly, "There remain some things which we must do, and we must do them together. This is another of my mother's failings, for she kept the lock to herself, yet lacked the will to use it." The priestess smiled, "Neither one of us suffers this weakness." "This singlet that I wear," she said, "have you more?" He nodded, "Yes, I don't know why you would want it, but it is yours if you wish to have it." "I want it more than you know," she said, stepping off him to stand on the floor. His eyes opened wide as he saw that though it remained the same length, it now fit her well. She smiled, "I want it more than I could want any fine robe because it was given to me and it speaks to me of you. Come back to the hearth with me. You yearn to learn more of the faith, and it is time for that." "It is also time that we learn more of each other in that place." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 03 **Note to readers: Oh man, I've really written myself into a corner with this one. For the Witch's Want tale, I wanted a guy out of antiquity - a fearsome warrior with a legend. So I picked a name. There seemed to be enough things in Sumerian history for it to work. Ok, that was before I read the rest. I've just found out that their son, Ur-Nammu, had a son himself - a pretty important and legendary character. Well crap, I didn't want that! So I wanted to write this as a prequel to The Witch's Want. I figured maybe 3 chapters of the couple's back story and then get on with what the witch wants, you know?. Oh hell, no. I'll be lucky if I can do this in 5 chapters. I'm not a scholar in ancient Mesopotamian history, so if you are, please do your best to overlook the way that I'm about to torture history. ----------------------------------------------- She held out her hand and they walked back to the hearth. Looking around, she found two of his blankets rolled and set aside. She unrolled them and laid them out on the floor. "Sit as we did before," she said. It took much less time and effort this time to get them together. In only minutes, she had him moving his fingers quickly enough to maintain his own state and they sat for a time only smiling at each other in their prayers. Slowly, once he'd shown some ability to keep some sort of pace, she took one of his wrists and asked him to do the same, before bringing their hands together. Then she began to teach him at the pace where their minds could exchange information without the delay of spoken words being heard and interpreted, without the pauses of seeking the correct inflections of speech and the couched terms that come unconsciously when conversing. There was no thinking about what might be meant in the space between them now. Everything was what was meant; no more and no less. "So you know, in spite of the many lesser gods" she thought to him, "that Ammuru is the main and most powerful, along with his wife, Belet-Seri, the queen of the desert, the scribe of the earth, recorder of the dead. These must be kept foremost in the mind, and so it is easier for me if I use one hand for those prayers and the other for whatever the matter at hand might be." She found that his mind was as hungry as the rest of him for this, and when she judged that he'd had enough theology for the moment, she instructed him in simple and basic defensive magic. In this space, there was no time lost over his being incredulous and needing to be shown. He just absorbed everything. It was much the same with the language. In minutes, he had a grasp. He couldn't speak it, not having tried yet, but he had a basic understanding of many everyday nouns and verbs, enough to catch some of what was spoken around him, though here, no one spoke this tongue. She told him it didn't matter. He'd need this for when she taught him to read. Finally, she knew that he was tiring, but what he'd already learned in this one session amazed her. Even so, he still wouldn't stop. "What is the gated bridge?" "It is a bridge near where it is said that the faith began," she answered. "I have been there and seen it. The bridge is a causeway to an old stronghold on the mountain of Jebel Bishri. It is far from where the temple was, but not as distant from here, if what I feel is right. When I was brought here, I saw some caves not far from the city," she thought to him, "There was a sign in the rock there. One could ride through the caves to reach the bridge quickly if this is the right sign." "The Dead Caves," she heard his thought to her, "I am not from here and all that I know of them is that no one goes near there at night. The dead were brought there at one time, but no longer, from what I have been told." "I need to go there," he heard her words, "I need to see my mother once more." "But your mother is dead." "Yes," she answered, "she waits to see me at the bridge. I must go soon." "Then we will go," he answered. "How?" She looked at his face. He smiled slightly, "Somehow." "I enjoy this with you," she thought to him. "I will always hunger for your thoughts," she heard his mind say, "but will I remember any of this later?" She smiled a little wider and told him yes, that now, he'd likely remember everything. "You have done so much for me," she thought to him, "but there still remains the matter of the lock. I will tell you of this soon, but for now, I will say that until now, there has been no place in the faith for more than priestesses. I have seen how this constrains us in times when warriors are needed, so I will do things differently." She moved very slightly to find a bit more comfort for herself without disturbing what they did, "High priestesses have always taken up the position and used the lock as they saw fit, and this has worked. But in times like these, a more forceful priestess would serve better. I am such a priestess, but even that is not enough." "I will not take up the task completely and then seek a consort, for the lock cannot be moved then. Since we are here together and we know what will be between us, I will take you as my consort and share the lock at the outset, because I know that you would have my heart." "What of my new gods?" he thought to her, "They may not wish it." "The high priestess is far from any of the remaining faithful now," her mind replied, "There is only decline for the faith if I must somehow make my way back with the lord general's army at my heels and begin out of the dust and ruins. I believe that the gods are willing and when we begin between ourselves to open and fit the mysteries of the lock of the faith, we will know it if they speak at that time." "But I wish to know one thing from you at the outset, Lugalbanda. Between us, how do you think of pairing with me? If it is only something between a woman and a man at first, this will suffice for the purpose, but I am a woman, and I would like to know." "We cannot dance through the meadow yet," he replied, "but you told me that you care for me and that we will love between us. I see no reason not to try to begin this now and then grow comfortable as one would with a set of new sandals. I have my own hope to love you which you saw, and I cannot think of this as only blind rutting." "Unless that is what I want from you?" her thoughts asked. His gaze had been locked on her eyes the past few minutes. He now looked and saw her little mischievous smile. "Unless that is what you want from me," he answered, "But if it is so for the time that comes, as you say, then you must say it." "No," she replied, "For the time that comes, I need as much of what I see in your heart there as you can give to me." "Then it will be so," he nodded. "I wanted to say," he smiled to her, "that you do not need to struggle with my name so much as you have. At its heart, I am Banda, but my mother added Lugal to the front a little hopefully, I think." "You do not need to explain it," she thought to him, "I understand it. Lugal is to say 'a great man' or perhaps 'king', and these you are to me. With much luck and some blessings, we shall see if it rises for others as well." ----------------- He didn't lose consciousness when they stopped this time, but he found himself on his back anyway. The priestess smiled at him softly by the light of the fire and their clothing lay over one of the chairs. He watched her get to her feet and walk to the table and return with the pitcher of wine and one goblet. She was a little different from most of her people, having black hair rather than the more common reddish hues common among the her kind, though her eyes were blue like so many of her people. He sighed to himself, - and she certainly carried the wild fierceness they were famous for. There were theories among the scholars, but no one really knew where they came from. Some of them were as far away the lands of Canaan and even Egypt, but they were outsiders there as much as they were to any other people anywhere else. They traveled far and there were many of them, all of them fierce if roused. "Why do you smile?" she asked him. "I have traveled far, wherever I was sent," he said, "I have seen many people in my marches and rides. I cannot think that I have ever seen one so lovely as my priestess." She chuckled, "An answer such as that, warrior, wins you some wine." As he sipped from the goblet, she reached for his manhood and began to stroke it, liking the feel of it in her hand and hoping that she was doing it correctly. She looked at it and wondered aloud, "How will this ever fit?" His response was several minutes of choking as he fought for breath while the priestess alternated between heartfelt concern for his survival and laughing her head off at the faces that he made. "What I mean to say is," she said, feeling a little foolish, "I have served in the gardens and I have seen that it is supposed to fit. If a child can come out, then this must be able to go in ... and out ... a few times." She sighed and rolled her eyes, "And then as that is going on, the couple must groan to each other like sick dogs and shout the other one's name now and then. It is all very simple." He laughed a little, "Well, thank you for removing the last scrap of romance from an act of love." She was about to explain how that was what she'd seen when he began to laugh even more. "I have not said anything else," she said, "why are you laughing at me?" He shook his head, still laughing slightly, "I am not laughing at you, I never would laugh at you" he said, wiping a tear from his eye, "I only saw us for an instant just as you said. We could not do it that way, you and I." "And why not?" she asked, beginning to chuckle herself from the way that he laughed. "Beautiful Nisi-ini-su," he gasped, chuckling, "neither of us has the sort of name for that kind of passionate shouting. Can you hear us calling to each other like that?" She pictured the scene in her head. A moment later, they were both laughing. He watched as she sipped from the goblet herself and had a passing thought. He decided that he would do his best out of his want for her comfort, as much as it was possible to do."It is no crime not to know," he said gently. "But I do know," she snapped back very slightly. She knew that he was trying to help. She was nervous and felt a little stupid. "It is a little different to see and to do," he offered. "But – " "I warn you, Nisi-ini-su, you begin to sound like a hen again." He chuckled, "I do not mate with hens – no matter what you might have heard about me." It worked and she laughed, but spilled a little wine onto one breast and it ran to sit on her thigh. She reached to wipe it when he stopped her. "I do not seek to make you feel foolish, beauty, but it is not so simple as you think. A child might pass out of there, but that is never easy and what I have for you can pass in – and out, but if you are nervous it will go only a little easier than the child. Either way holds pain for you. I would help in this if you would allow it. If you sit on me right now and seek to accomplish what you have watched, it will likely happen – and you would not like it. One of the secrets is to be comfortable and peaceful. Sit and enjoy the wine." He sat up a bit and came closer to her. "What are you doing?" she asked. He smiled, "I will enjoy the wine too." Then his lips and tongue were on her breast feeling softer than the lightest brush of the finest gown. She wondered how such a light and sensuous touch was possible. She set down the goblet and caressed his head. She waited for him to move to her nipple, and he did before he followed the track of the drops to where one still hung underneath. His tongue felt wonderful. She decided that for once, her impetuous and hot-headed nature could go to hell. She'd seen into his heart and knew that he cared for her. He'd been with a woman before a time or ... well, he was no virgin as she was. She watched as he lowered his head to her thigh. When the wine was gone, he kissed his way back up. He moved her hair from her face gently, "Come, Nisi-ini-su, lie with me. I promise that I will do my best so that you enjoy this time. What do you need for what you would do?" She shrugged after lying down, "The simplest answer is that I have had a man there." "Then as your friend, I say that this is no more correct than just sitting on that part of me," he said. "Of course it will fit, but it goes better where it is welcomed." After his gentle kisses and the pleasant attacks of his tongue between her thighs, he did his best to illustrate his point. And of course, by then she had to agree. The priestess wondered about the ease of it, but he smiled and told her that he'd seen her on horseback and her answer to his question was that she'd ridden since she was a young girl. "I take no credit then for deed," he smiled. But she gave him an argument anyway, telling him that he was more than she could have wanted. ------------------ She held up her hand and the little pouch left the table and found its way through the air to her. He watched her and noticed that while she'd been having fun, she now looked serious as she knelt before the fire. Her hand shook slightly as she unrolled the pouch so that it was flat on the blanket. Her hand got as far as the flap and then she seemed to be stuck at that point. He touched her cheek with the back of his hand, "What is it, Nisi-ini-su?" She shrugged, "I think that this is some sort of moment for me. I wonder if I am fit for this on the one hand, and if I open this, I almost wish that the main piece was not here. If it is here, it means that my mother is truly dead." She turned to look at him and he saw that her eyes were brimming. "Yet," she sniffled, "if it is not here, then none of the rest would work. And ... I already know that it is here," she wiped her eyes, "I can feel the bulge." "Well," he said, "I think that you are fit for it, and there is no one else. What must you do?" She thought about it. "I need a long knife, and for this, if you can trust me, I would like to keep it for myself. For what I would do here, I must make one lock into two." He got up and returned with a newer blade. Beyond thanking him, she said nothing, but as soon as it was in her hand, she knew that it was the best one that he owned. She laid the open pouch down and surveyed what looked like a child's collection of plain small pieces of gravel. Laying them out in a definite pattern, she said, "Combined, this is the lock of the faith, though even like this, it lies hidden." She passed her hands over the stones, and they turned to gleaming polished orbs. She bunched some of the blankets into a place for him to lay his head. "I have never seen this done, and I have never heard of it being done in the way that I will try to do it here." She smiled at him a little shyly, "At the least, I have seen this done before." With a few soft kisses and the work of her wet lips, she had him hard again in a minute or so and then she eased herself down onto him. She leaned forward a bit to enjoy it for a little while. He noticed the structure of her arms as she rode him and thought about seeing her with a sword. She hadn't held one in months, but the musculature was still evident as were the lines of the tendons. Rather than speed up, she slowed after a time and just moved in subtle motions. She sat back a little and he watched her hands in her prayers until she stared at the main piece for a moment before stopping. The priestess carefully split the fragment and handed him a piece. "After all of this is done, you will have to learn many prayers, Lugalbanda, for I try here to make you into something like a priest to share this power with. Before you try to argue, remember that you are the worthy of this in my eyes, and I have made my choices – both in you for myself, and for the faith. Now, place this in the center of my breast near my heart and hold it there." She began to move her fingers in prayer and he placed the stone. She only moved just enough to keep them both a little pleased. When he thought that nothing would come of it and wondered how to ask, there was a bright light between them and he saw her convulse for an instant and then she smiled as she reached for the second piece. "This could not be done by you if you were not seen as fit by the gods. Because of you, the faith has a new high priestess," she smiled, "far from where she needs to be and now it needs a new and still-learning high priest." She held the second fragment to his chest and the flash came even quicker because of her hand. Different fragments were split under her blade and placed in various spots on them as she dictated. All of them disappeared into their bodies. Each one had a purpose, she said, as she explained them, and each time, they heard sounds within themselves which she said indicated the approval of the relevant deity. The second last set was a challenge, as it required certain parts of their bodies to be in contact, such as their wrists for a moment, or their thighs, one at a time. This was accomplished with much care and straining so that if at all possible, they could remain joined. There was nothing in any writings of this, but the priestess told him that for all of the difficulty of it, it would signal their joint intent to the gods. When the second last set was completed, they both heard drums. He stared up at her, "What does this mean?" "The war god is very pleased with us both," she smiled, "hear the quick rhythm. It will come to you at times when you fight to help you go on. I have heard of this from my mother." She began to move in time with what they heard, but after a little while the sound faded and she cut the last fragment. "There is one more set that we will share between us," she said, "there is one more by itself, but it must go to the leader of the faith. Once it is placed, all the stones will be the right size as if there were only the one set once more. The power will almost double, I think." She handed him what looked and shone like a small gem. "Hurry, now, my warrior," she said, "this one must sit where my collarbones join. Place it now and hold it there for me." Another flash and it was done. "These last," she said, "go at the very bottom of our bodies. I will place yours first, and you will know where to place mine." She leaned back a little and pressed the gem against his perineum. What he felt was warmth, but he knew then where to place hers. When she laid herself on top of him, he reached and, holding the stone between his thumb and forefinger, he felt with his middle finger, and then set the stone into place for her. All that they heard was the other one's moans, though by then they'd stopped moving. She looked into his eyes and smiled. "Such a gift to me and the faith," she said soundlessly in his mind. "I can hear you," he thought to her, "and we do not pray with our hands." "We no longer need to," she answered, "we are joined by the lock. As it was when it was in pieces in the cloth, it was the lock and the high priestess is the key. Once the main piece is placed, the priestess becomes the lock and the rest become the keys. What we have done has never been done, my great friend. I think that the gods know that it must be different this time. I am needed, but you are needed also, and this way, the lock of the faith is safe." Minutes later, she was in the bed. "We are both weary after a day of days which began with my hatred," she said, "come to bed now, and I will do my best to please you for all the work that you have done to learn and to help me. I have found joy with you, but you have not spent your seed nor felt its release. I would begin it now between us, I think. Do not think of sleeping on the floor. I need little space and if I can hold you, there is room enough here for me." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 03 She kissed him and worked her way lower on him until he stopped her, asking her to lie beside him. Face to face on their sides, they loved slowly until she extinguished the little oil lamp with a wave of her hand. ---------------------- In the pale light of the morning, the sun was barely up when they were at the gates. The young priestess sat behind him on his war horse wearing his singlet under a blanket. "Try to forgive my words here," he whispered to her. He had to beat on the shuttered guardhouse window with his fist to wake the sentries. "Do you sleep on guard," he roared, "or are you all dead?" Two of the men spilled out of the door to blink at him. "Open the gate," he said tersely. The guard knew instantly who it was who addressed him here. The fighter was known in the city and what was more, the guard knew that he was favored by the lord general. Still, he hated being addressed like this. His eyes slid past the man and he saw the the woman behind him with her cheek against his back, looking as pleased as a well-fed cat. To his mind, she would look better impaled over a huge fire and screaming in agony. he had no use for living Amorites of any sort. A witch of their kind was only useful as fertilizer. "This woman is the Amorite witch! Where do you take her?" he demanded. The fighter reached down and grabbed the man by his shirt and almost pulled him off the ground, "I go where I will, and I do not answer to sleeping snails like you. It is daylight now. If you were at your post you would have enough of your wits about you to know that no one is challenged now." He looked at the man with a mixture of mild curiosity and open contempt. "Where do they find buffoons such as you? This is a city, not an outpost. In the city, you may only challenge after dark, and even then, you challenge those coming IN, idiot, not leaving. We need men such as you in the army," he said, "to walk in front attracting the other side's arrows. Your only talent is wasted here pretending to be a soldier." The rest of the guards laughed at this, but stopped when he looked at them. The tendons in his neck stood out as he lifted the guard to shake him as the man's feet dangled in the air. "I am tired of the stink of ones like you in this place. I seek a quiet little dell for a bit of fun." He dropped the guard and leaned down close, his voice dripping with malevolence, "And where I go to breed my bitch here is none of your concern. Open the gate or I make a new door with your heads." The guards almost fell over each other in their haste. As they rode away, the priestess turned back and saw the one that he'd spoken to call to one of the archers on the wall. She watched the archer draw back his bow, but the bow snapped and the man tumbled backward off the wall to land by the passageway with a broken neck. She pulled a hair from her head and wove it quickly into her flying fingers for a moment before dropping the knotted hair from her hand. She didn't turn back again, knowing that the insulted guard now fought against his own tongue as it strained to go down his throat. He felt her pull herself tighter against him and he heard her quiet laugh. "What is it?" he turned, smiling. She chuckled, "I liked what you said, nothing more. Why did you speak such hard words to the one there?" He shrugged, "Something that I have always loathed about cities. Duties such as jailer and sentries should be a shared and changed task, a part of the guard and only done a few days a month by any one man. They grow soft and act hard like this and do not do any task well anymore." An hour later, they were at the caves. "There is the sign," she said, pointing past him at the inscription in the rock over the high entrance of one of them. He turned the horse up the small rise and they stopped for a moment just inside. "Are you afraid of empty spirits?" she asked. He shook his head, "I am only cautious. I do not wish to cripple my large friend by making him walk on the bones here, and the cave ends just there." "Go ahead," she said quietly, "all that lies here is illusion. Feel the wind from the closed wall. There is no wall." Urging his horse forward, they found themselves in a vast cavern. She told him to stop for a moment so that their eyes could become accustomed to the dimness. After a moment, they saw that the cavern wasn't really dark at all, but was lit by phosphorescent plants growing from the ceiling high above them. As they moved forward, every so often they could see by thin shafts of daylight coming in between boulders high above them. "If you are ready," she said, "ride hard now." The road ahead of them - such as it was - was fairly even and smooth. They only had to slow up a bit whenever they passed below the open slits in the mountain above them for there were the bones of animals on the floor there from unfortunates who had fallen through over time. "This path here is a little too straight and flat," he remarked, "I have never seen a cavern that is straight for such a distance." The priestess chuckled as she held onto his shoulder, "If you wish, I can make obstacles and hills for you. We are not really here where it seems that we ride. We were closer to Jebel Barez than to Jebel Bishri, and one cannot ride between them in a week but this way gets us there quickest. It is one of the roads of the dead and there is no distance here to ones who carry the favor of Belet-Seri." He looked back at her, but she said nothing further on the subject. It wasn't long before they found themselves leaving the cavern. As they rode out onto a green meadow, sheep scattered before them. "Where now?" he asked. "There," she pointed past him, "Straight over the rise, but slow a little near to the top. There are turns there and it is a long way down if you miss even one." As she said, they were forced to slow and wind their way, but when they looked up, they saw the old keep, built into the face of a mountain not much farther in the distance. "Jebel Bishri," she said. Pointing to the causeway over the river below, she said, "There is the gated bridge. See the smoke from the watch fires on the other hills. Our passage has been marked." The warrior nodded, but inwardly, he wondered at what the welcome might be. As they neared the bridge, the priestess cried out and jumped down, running to the bridge. The fighter saw some hooded figures there where there had been none but a moment before. When he plodded up, he saw that she stood in the embrace of her mother and a man that he guessed must be her father. He wondered about it, but the older woman smiled and nodded to him. "A happy day indeed," she said, "I need only one look at you both to see that what I had wanted for you and dreamed of has come to pass in this dark time." She laughed at his expression, "We are quite dead in the world outside, but here, those like us can live on. We see that you have done far more in a day than join the faith, Lugalbanda. Come and walk with us." She whistled and the first gate began to swing open. "This is all a defensive position," the man said, "Intruders would find themselves in only indefensible places at every turn getting here. That is why the path winds and twists to force an army to a thin line. This is the old place from where the faith first sprang. It has been added to over time, and it has never fallen." They walked across the long causeway and into the keep. Over the next hour, several priestesses came to teach him secrets as quickly as their hands could move and his mind could absorb them. He noticed that Nisi-ini-su had left him in their care, but she came back to him dressed in a fitted cuirass of her own, wearing long boots. He stared as she approached with several others bearing things. She wore the cuirass, though unlike most, hers could be opened at the front down to below her navel. She also had light shoulder guards fitted to it, and she now wore black leather bracers on her arms. There was a clasp fastened around her throat to the long back cloak that she wore, though over one of her shoulders, he could see the haft of a sword, matched, he guessed to the one that she held in her hand. Her boots had scabbards down the outer sides for daggers and throwing knives. All together, it was a drastic change to the naked and chained slave that had been brought to him the day before. "The people hereabouts are only now seeing swords and most fight with daggers and pikes," she said, "We have used swords for long years beyond count." He nodded, "The trouble has always lain in the bronze that the sword is made of. Longer than a certain length, it is too soft and bends." "But yours does not," she said, "because it has braces along its length. This makes it far too heavy to be used by most men all the day long. Ours are bronze too, but we weld harder edges and backs on before we begin. The blades are thinner and longer without the ribs and their weight ruining the balance. We begin to work a new metal which bronze cannot stand against." She smiled, "We rode out as a warrior and a slave. We ride back as something different. These things here are my gifts to you. Please put them on, and only tell the smiths here what is needed if anything is too tight." He looked around at the priestesses near to him. One of them smiled, "We were all high priestesses once, warrior, and we know what men look like, have no fear - or shame." As the smiths stepped forward to undress him to fit the new clothing, Nisi-ini-su's mother kept speaking as she and a few others chanted and sang to him at times. The priestesses sang to them as they held each other and stood listening to the songs and watching the hands of the dead priestesses as they taught him one after another. Finally, Nisi-ini-su's mother stopped singing and spoke to him. "You knew of us as the Amorites and we call ourselves the Martu. The city of Ninab is gone and so the people have no structure now and go back to wandering as a nation of nomads once more. The overseers where we once lived will find themselves ruling over an empty land with no one in it very soon. This is the roving nation that you will rule together. We foresee that you will rule another nation as well, but the Martu will always hold themselves apart, fighting alongside what you build when you decide that it suits them and you." "You will find friends unlooked-for often for we are widely spread and soon all will know that there is now both a high priestess and a warrior-priest to lead them. The greatest danger to you comes from your own kind, Lugalbanda. In this, you must trust in the friend that you have made in my daughter here, the one who sees and returns your love even now. She has already begun to defend you." He had questions as the smiths worked, and they were answered, and it was not long before he stood in his new armor, holding his new longer sword, feeling for its balance. "Your armor was chosen for you both for this rise. It is dark to hide you in dark places and to allow fear to grow. To you, seeing one dressed this way tells you that the one is trained here in our ways. Our blades are all black, the color carried on the surface of the metal. It is to force fear as well, though the harder the usage, the more the cold gleam comes through." She raised her hand and a slender warrior approached, similarly dressed, but wearing a black leather and metal helmet with leather guards over the neck and a black face shield that showed only a pair of impassive and relaxed eyes. The warrior stopped and saluted by slapping a gloved hand against the closed cuirass. "Try to kill this one, Lugalbanda." He looked back in a confused way and then turned to find the warrior already attacking him. At first, his efforts were only defensive as he got the balance of the sword, but before long, he was advancing as his blood warmed to it. But though he tried, the other one was always moving out of his reach, avoiding the death-dealing strokes by inches each time. What he realized out of it was that a fighter such as this one would be uneconomical to have to fight. Too much time and effort would need to be invested to get past this one fighter. When he had the feel of the sword, he made headway. The few strokes which had gotten through his defenses early on were stopped by the cuirass, though he did feel the strength behind them and the speed was astounding. The priestess called a halt then and the attacker stood back. When the helmet came off, he stared. "I did tell you that we had fighters for the faith," Nisi-ini-su said. The attacker had been a young woman. The woman stepped forward and expressed her honor to have been chosen for this. "I knew that if I raised your blood, I had to be elsewhere when your strokes fell, priest. When you master these blades, no one will stand before you. I would ask for the honor to fight beside you then." "I have a score more of fighters like her," Nisi-ini-su said, "This is their captain, Anat. We may consider them our personal guard and now you have assistants to help with the teaching." "Women warriors to teach men?" he wondered, "It will cause trouble and the men will not learn from it." "They will if one dies now and again," the captain said. "You also want them for their other uses," the priestess told him quietly, "There are few more treacherous people than your own, Lugalbanda. You now have thirteen assassins." "Things are changing, children," her mother said, "There will be no school. The lord general Enmerkar has his own dreams and you will play a part. When you return, much will change because it must. The king is dying." Her mother smiled and beckoned them to a worn old balcony. In the courtyard below, stood more fighters also dressed in black. "I have my own additions," she said. "I can give you five score and ten fighters, priestesses and oathsworn warriors of old. All were pledged long ago against this slow and careful rising. Only call to them, Daughter, and they come" He looked from one priestess to the other, not comprehending. The elder priestess grinned, "They are every bit as dead as I am," she said. "They do not hunger and do not thirst. They do not tire, and they cannot die. And mighty priest," she nodded, ..."They do not lose." After quiet and quick discussions which left him more confident and pleased, they set off to return to the city. He rode between his priestess, now on her own horse and the captain of his guard, and the three of them led the dozen fighters into the cavern. "How will I explain this?" he smiled. "One or two, yes, even on horses, but thirteen ..." "There is an old, small and forgotten gate in the wall outside the training area which I found this morning," the priestess said. "We go in there. No one will see since no one will look to see us, and if anyone thinks to look, everyone will need suddenly to sleep." She shrugged with a smile. "I think we must hurry now. You will need me to bargain for your servants this afternoon. I have only one small sadness for this day," she said, looking at him with a smile. "I really liked what was said about finding a quiet little dell." "Can we come back here?" He asked. "At any time," she smiled, "do you make a promise to me? I know of such a place here." "Then I make this promise," he smiled. ------------ Lugalbanda saw that both Nisi-isi-su and Anat, captain of the dozen fighters enjoyed each other's company during the ride back, laughing and joking for most of the way. Somewhere during the cavern portion of the trip, he was introduced a little better. "Anat and I were close friends as girls," the priestess said, "but we saw each other less often once I began serving at the temple and she was chosen as a defender." "It is true," smiled Anat, "we only met again and again whenever Nisi-ini-su came to Jebel Bishri to be taught to fight and ride. We have always enjoyed each other's company and we are old friends. Each meeting and parting brings tears to us." "One thing that you should know about my friend," the priestess said, laughing "if she thinks it, she says it, for good or ill. Anat has the sense to hold her tongue if it is the wise thing to do, but if you want the truth of something, ask her then and you will hear it." As they left the cave and took to the road, Anat wanted to know more of what duty they now had. As it was explained to her, she shook her head. "Strange times we live in," she said, "I can but wonder what my poor mother would say to hear that we lose the homeland we sought to build to Sumerians, and now her daughter goes to serve one." She looked at Lugalbanda, "I mean no insult here. I would lay down my life for my friend and the one that she has taken and I would gladly fight beside you at any time. They say that you are a great Ba'al –a warrior lord who seeks to change things and learns much of us. I welcome it and I welcome you, but what is to be done here?" He smiled a little uncertainly, "I seem to have the favor of an ambitious lord. If I can, I will seek to rise there, and take some of the Martu along. I have learned that allies live longer than enemies with him." "I mark it as strange and with my own humor at you and I, "the captain smiled, "To us, you have the title of Ba'al. It is used when speaking to - or of - a lord, and the name comes from an old god. I am named after his lover, who is a violent war goddess herself. The names suit us as a people as well." "We are everywhere, coming from our beginnings in Assyria after Sargon of Akkadia laid waste to Ebla. We reach as far as Egypt. All know us as a fierce people best left alone. We are best seen by many if we are dead, for we may slip away in the night to return to slaughter with swords and our magic. We can be beaten down, and we can be enslaved singly, but we cannot be enslaved as a nation." As they'd ridden far around the city, their return was unnoticed since they came from a side of the city near to some low hills. One by one, they approached and slipped inside the old gate. The ghosts remained outside and faded from sight. The horses were settled into the stables and two tents were set up in some space made in the courtyard. Not long after, more food arrived and the warrior was now pleased that he'd been allotted so much. ---------------- He sat with the two friends as the rest worked at settling into the accommodation. "If there is now to be no school, then why do we need the servants? Even if I must teach for a while, I see no need for the expense. Or is there something else here?" "I have my own thoughts," Nisi-ini-su said, "but let Anat say her piece." The captain nodded, "We are fighters, just as you are. You know that we can look after our things and our horses like any fighters can. But a stable hand who can work metal would be worth much, no?" He got the hint. "Let us see what the overseer brings us I did say that I needed things built, but the two that I saw wouldn't be able to lift a hammer between them." "Another thing, Ba'al Lugalbanda," Anat said, "We need at the least one who can go to the markets for us. We can hide what we look like," she said, pointing at herself, "so that we are not marked as Martu, but we cannot go about dressed as fighters in this place." "No yet," he smiled. -------------------- The overseer was a portly man and obviously much-used to opulent living. He appeared at the door and bustled in with a few prospects. He lined them up before Lugalbanda and began to barter, mentioning various physical features on the young people as selling points. The warrior waved his hand at the man as though he was a bothersome fly. "Where are the two who were told to ask you to come to see me? I wanted to inquire about them, not about these here." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 03 He'd brought four with him, three men and a woman, all fairly young. The priestess and the captain stood in long cloaks, their faces covered in the headdress of any of the various tribes of desert dwellers, talking quietly between themselves. The captain's eyes lit up as she looked along the short line, but she said nothing at first. "Those two have always been trouble for me," the man said, "It often happens that I set them to a task, and when I look for them, I find that the tasks have been only quickly done and badly. I have often found them lying together when they were to be working and beating them only drives them together. Last night, I couldn't find them at all for a time, and when I did, they were with some men, obviously working at other than what they should have been. I sold them to a brothel-keeper friend of mine. They will make him good money at what they love to do and I got a good price for them. I was told that you wanted servants for labor and various tasks. I think these here will work well for you." "This one," he pointed to one man, "is the son of a builder. This one is a young smith. Neither is shy about work. The other here is from the hill tribes hereabouts and needs training. He will work, but often needs a touch of the whip since he cannot hold his tongue. He will also need watching. The girl, I hope to offer to sweeten the pot. Use her for what you will. She is inexperienced with men, not being too comely. Perhaps she might make a good cook." The overseer had heard of the fighter and asked him about his campaigns. With a look from the priestess, Lugalbanda pretended to be interested and answered the man's questions as he led him to the table and offered him some wine. If the fat fool was interested in hearing his war stories ... The captain and the priestess stood together. "The three are Martu," Anat said. "I would speak with the men, but I do not want to be marked as Martu myself by the slaver." The priestess stepped forward. "Builder's son, do you know how to build yourself, or is this empty talk?" He was very quiet and nodded, "Yes. If I have one or two others to help, I can make what you want. My few tools are outside with the smith's here." "Can you make a house?" she asked. "Yes," he nodded, "any small building." She walked behind him and her breath hissed inward as she saw their backs and the marks. "Why were these ones whipped?" she asked the overseer. He shrugged, "They are Amorites. You need to whip them sometimes or they do not listen to you. I think your master here will have no trouble." She bit her tongue and turned to the other one, "What of you? What can you do" she asked the smith. "Have you a forge?" he asked, "I can work a forge well. Even if you have no forge for me to work, I can do much." "We have no forge yet. Can you look after horses?" He nodded. "Yes. This man and I have worked together and with the materials, we can make a forge and care for horses, even camels." "You both seem willing," she said quietly, "why?" "We have no homes anymore after the fall of Ninab," he said, "Both of us have lost everything. We want to find a place where we can work and try to forget, someplace where it is not rubbed in our faces every day that we are slaves. For that and for food, we would work." She turned to the tribesman, "What of you? What are you good at?" "I can make you cry out in joy all the night long," he smiled. She shrugged as she turned away, "We need no storytellers here, and I have better than you already." Stepping to the table, she waited politely, keeping her eyes down. When the men looked up, she said, "I think that you might have an interest in the two men and the woman, Master. May I show them the stable?" He looked at the overseer who nodded, "Here, what of the other man?" She shrugged, "My master must decide," she said, "For myself, I have no work for goat herders and no goats which need his loving touch. I asked one thing, and he talks hopeful tales to me. If he stays here, I will want to kill him." She walked back to the slaves, "You, you , and you. Come with me a moment." They followed her to the stable with Anat behind them. Once inside, she asked the girl, "Can you be allowed to the market, or do they give you trouble here? I need one who can buy clothes and food." She nodded, keeping her eyes downcast. "Can you cook? Have you any skills?" The priestess noticed that the builder sometimes glanced at Anat furtively now and then. "I can cook and I can mend," she said in a voice just above a whisper. "I will do anything to get away from the overseer who reminds me often that I am no beauty. I know it, but I do not wish to hear it anymore." "Can you make clothes as well?" She nodded, "Yes. That is what my family did in Ninab. I am all that is left. I can make clothes and I can dye as well, if I must." The priestess looked at the girl. Besides a little dirt, she was pretty. She wasn't plain at all, and other than a slightly heavy build, she saw only someone who had been beaten more with words than anything else, and nothing else had been needed, obviously. The words had done as much damage as any whip could have. "Come here with me," she said, leading her behind a stall. "I mean nothing cruel here," she said softly, "I only wish to see what I might buy. Lift your dress please." Without a word, the slave complied. The priestess smiled, "I think you listen too much to fat fools," she said, "let it down again and open your mouth." After looking at her teeth, the priestess smiled and whispered, "You have not lain with a man? Is this what the overseer said?" She shook her head, "I have, in Ninab, I would go to the temple sometimes, to the gardens there. The men here do not want me and I do not want them, so I say nothing and keep my eyes down." The priestess nodded and led her back to the others. "Open your mouths," she said, "I look for bad teeth." With that out of the way, she whispered to them, "I need to know one thing more from any or all of you. Can you make or repair leather armor and weapons? Can you fight with things such as these?" The girl laughed a little, "If we could fight well, none of us would be here." The men nodded cautiously, "Why do you ask this, lady?" "Because to work here, you it would help if you knew of these things." She put her hand on the girl's shoulder for a moment, "If you do not know, you will learn a little, so that you do not have to walk with your head down all of the time," she smiled. The young woman smiled a little in response. "I think that you may have a home here. I make no promises, but I will try. Is this a place where you both can work, you men?" The men nodded, feeling a little hopeful, but the look on them all faded when she spoke again. "You are all Martu," she said, "the master here is Sumerian." She noted the change. "Here," she said, "It is only what you could expect in this place. He is not cruel. Here is how this could go," she said, "He would be your master, but you would also work for me. If you have trouble with this, say it now." None of them spoke. "Good," she said, "now you will tell me your names, and I do not want to hear some stupid name that the slavers gave you to say. I want proper Martu names from you all." Their eyes opened a little at this, but the smith spoke first. "I am Adad." "I am called Dagon," the young builder said. "Timna," she woman muttered, "I am called Timna." "We go back now to see how well I fare," Nisi-ini-su said, "Follow me, and do not speak unless you are asked to. I will bargain with the overseer." As they walked, Anat stepped up to walk with her friend. "I have a little gold," she whispered, "If this comes apart, I would have Dagon at the least." Her friend looked over, "For yourself?" she whispered back, "What do you mean?" Anat rolled her eyes, feeling foolish, "Yes, for myself. I would buy him to free him." "You would spend your gold from the looks that passed between you?" she chuckled a little, "then I must bargain harder if it is to make my friend a little happy." Inside, she stood behind her warrior and placed her hand on his shoulder. An instant later, he heard her thoughts to him. "Try to get the men. Remind him that he wanted to throw in the girl. Now that we do not want the young goat herder, the overseer will want money for her. Do not let him drive the price up, my love. Remind him that the three are all Amorites and use that word as though it tastes badly to you to speak it. If he makes trouble over it, tell him that you know that every slaver in the city seeks to sell his Amorite slaves cheaply, since Amorites make poor slaves and cause only trouble. This is widely-known here and it drives the prices for them down." She stepped over to the girl. "Listen, Timna," she whispered, "Try not to hear what is said now. It may come that you hear things which are not to your liking, but we try to get a good price that includes you into the bargain. What is said from our side of it is surely not what is meant. If we did not want you, we would not deal for you. Can you understand?" The young woman nodded and looked down with a sigh. When the dealing began, Lugalbanda kept these things in mind and was partially successful, but the overseer was as accustomed to dealing and trading as the warrior was at what he did best. At length, he heard the priestess speak to him in his thoughts again, "Tell him that you have a headache and that you leave the trading to me and give me the permission to trade on your behalf." The overseer almost rubbed his hands in glee over the turn of things until he found himself up against one of the hardest bargainers that he'd ever come across. At length, they stood glaring at one another in silence. "Anat," she called out, "have you three silvers?" "Nay," the other woman replied, "I have only two silvers and five coppers of small money, why?" "Because it hangs here," the priestess replied, "I will not spend another copper on two beaten-down men and a girl who can no longer look up from hearing low thoughts from slavers, the three of these here all Amorites into the bargain." She turned to the overseer, "Is it enough? You will get no more and I grow tired of this here." "The girl can be bred and you get more slaves," the man said. "Who wants the brats of an Amorite? You told us that she was to sweeten the pot and made out as though she had no value, and then you wanted money for her. I added some for her knowing this, and you still try to squeeze more. Tell me it is not enough and you can take them all away. Enough or not?" "Enough," the trader grumbled. Nisi-ini-su sighed in disgust, "Anat, lay it down and it is done between us here." She pulled a wet clay tablet over and pointed, "Make your mark, overseer, and it is over before I think to change my mind – again." He thought about it quickly as he licked his lips nervously. What he'd get is what he might have expected for one really fine male slave, but on the other hand, he'd been trying to rid himself of the three of them for almost four months. No one in the city wanted to trust any Amorite, and nobody even wanted the girl, fearing that she'd kill them in their sleep from what they'd heard. "Fine," he said, hating the terms here, "show me your gold." As the transaction was completed, the slaver noticed her blue eyes with a bit of shock, but kept it to himself. He'd tell of what he'd seen here to the right one soon enough. He scratched at his itchy face a little, wondering about it, but putting it down to the heat. He took the tribesman's chain and they walked out. ---------------------- She sat on her fighter's lap, feeling exhausted. "I have traded for horses and not had to work so hard at it," she said with a tired smile, "but it was worth it." She kissed him for a long moment. "Thank you for your trust." He laughed a little. "You told me yesterday that you would try to leave me a little of this sum. You did not spend even half of what you set aside for this. My trust is well-placed and I know it." "Come here, all of you," she said, "It is time that you know where you are now." she pulled off her headdress and Anat did the same. The three servants stared. "We can speak our tongue here," she told them, "only be a little slower with your words for your master here, as he is just learning, and you still might have to speak in his tongue even so." "He noticed your eyes, beauty," Lugalbanda said, "there may be trouble yet." She laughed, "Very soon it will not matter. He will learn a new word because no one will go near to him. His life will change completely." "Timna," she said, "please come here. You do not know it yet, but you are important to us. We need you for many things, and you are all as servants here, but not slaves. This is Lugalbanda. He is my man," she laughed, "as of yesterday, it seems, since we are the both of us stupid enough for it over each other." "I did not lie," she said, "he is not cruel, though he looks to be. Besides what else he might be, he is a new priest of the faith. If he is anything to you, it might be that he is as a lord to you. It is through him that you are free of the overseer." The girl bowed low to him and stood waiting after thanking him. The priestess pointed with a friendly smile. "The bath is through that door there, and it is hot. Go now and bathe. Take your time with it too. Your first task from me is to feel better about yourself. Adad, go and bring your tools and Dagon's to the stable for now." "Dagon," she smiled for a moment, indicating her friend, "this is Anat. She paid for you." They smiled at each other a little shyly for a moment. They looked to be exactly even between them. Both were lithe, and the occupations of both had left them a bit muscled, though not heavily, and they were exactly the same height. To the priestess, they looked as though they were made from the same pattern. If there was a difference, it was that Anat showed much more self-confidence in her gaze. "Thank you," he said a little uncertainly, though it was heartfelt. Anat showed her self-assurance a moment later when she slammed her hand against his chest to grab his shirt in her fingers. "Come," she laughed, "you are mine, at least for a little while." She pulled him into the storage room. Once inside, she put her arms around his neck. "You wish to thank me? You might begin it right here." Nisi-ini-su chuckled as she noticed the look on her large friend's face, "That is Anat. When she thinks something, it comes out. We may need to close the door in a moment." "No you will not, "Anat laughed as she called back, "I want only to see if my friend here thinks as I do." ---------------------- In another part of the palace, the overseer was learning the new word that the priestess had spoken of. Everywhere he turned, he found only revulsion in the faces of others. He tried to begin to tell of what he'd seen, but no one cared so much as they wanted him out of their sight. At last, he found himself forced out of the gates and into the street where everyone ran if they didn't look around themselves for stones to throw so that he might move on as he began his new life as a leper. ----------------------- Timna sat in the hot bath in disbelief. She'd never had the luxury of something this nice before. Everything in her body felt so comfortable and if she relaxed any further, she thought that pieces of her body might just begin to melt off her and float away. The priestess walked into the room and smiled, "Can we share? I prepared the bath for myself before the overseer came and we can talk here, you and I." Timnu nodded, "This is no bath here, priestess, this is a hot lake to me. There is room. You are the second priestess? I think that I know your face." "I was once," she replied, "now I am the high priestess and we all have a long road before us. Let me wash your hair for you." "What are my duties to be?" she asked as Nisi-ini-su began. "Many things," the priestess replied, "I spoke the truth. You can have a high place here. All of the Martu here are as slaves. I myself am a slave to the Sumerian, but he is with us. Besides myself and Anat, there are twelve more women here, all of them Martu fighters. They cannot go out into the city in the clothing of fighters. You will need to go and buy the normal clothes that any woman – not overly rich, and not bitter poor – might have so that we can go out. You will need to likely fit the clothing to us so that it fits well, no?" She smiled, "And then there is the food. Food is brought here daily, but it will not be long before we will need to be at least a little suspicious of it, so you will have to buy it. By then, one or more of the others, and perhaps even me will go along to help, and we will all help in the preparing of it. You will be the chief cook among us, Timna, and so it will be you who gives the commands for that, even if my warrior friend must help. Can you do all of this?" For the first time, Timna smiled and nodded. "You are not here as a slave, Timna. You are here until you do not wish to be here with us. If I had my way, my man would do what he must do for us all tomorrow, but it will take some time, perhaps a few years, even. Then we will all go to new homes. Only see if you can help with what we need and it will be enough for me before you go if it is what you wish." "The Sumerian is with us?" she asked, "I do not understand. He frightens me, priestess. He looks like one of their fighters, one who deals death. I saw them in Ninab." "He was at Ninab," the priestess said, "but he was there because his lord ordered it. He tries to learn our ways and he is already a priest of the faith. I have never met one like him, but I can say this - he is not as he looks to be. He can be fearsome, but I have found much to love in him all the same." She grinned suddenly, "Who is it now who judges quickly? There is more to him, just as there is more to you. It is in how you look to see, nothing more. You are not as poor-looking now that I have some of the dirt off you, and he looks less fearsome with his leather off him. I need someone to assist me, and I hope to make a friend myself in you. Do not shun Lugalbanda, Timna, you will miss knowing a good man who seeks a way out of his own prison for he has seen not much more than grimness for so long." "Now, wash my back if you wouldn't mind and tell me what you might need to prepare the food. Then you and I can go to the market and begin." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 04 **Ok, we continue with the tale. It's a little tough scratching around for proper names for this area and the groups of people at the time. Just so you know and don't get confused, to the Amorites (Martu), the title "Ba'al" hearkened back to an old god for them, and it was a word in common usage all over to denote a great man, or a lord, or even the head of a household or family. So it's a natural that some of these folks would address Lugalbanda as "Ba'al". For that matter, to Sumerians of the time, "lugal" meant much the same thing. It's not really too important. I just didn't want to lose anyone when somebody calls him "Ba'al". The Sumerians and the Amorites are all dead anyhow. Hehe, I try to learn something new every day. O_o There's a tiny bit of girl-girl in this, but nothing really graphic if that bothers anyone. I think it comes across more as affection than anything else. Then again, it might bother some that it's NOT graphic. Dang, what to do? ----------------- The line of helpers from the shopkeepers in the market looked to be never-ending, he thought, as clothing lay piled in the main chamber and two sleeping pallets arrived. The priestess smiled at him, "I did not go to spend all of your money. I only bought what was needed." She shrugged, "and anyway, it is the lord general's gold that was spent." She had Adad smiling at his new anvil, and once the material for the building was stacked in the fighting area, Dagon and Anat swept out the storage room and placed one of the pallets on the floor. The other sleeping pallet went into the chamber that Timna would sleep in and work out of as she helped with the clothing. When everything had arrived and the main door was closed, the place took on another look completely. Timna went to the tents to ask for help bringing the clothing and she stopped, seeing the other fighters there in one tent, some looking at her and the rest playing at backgammon to pass the time. Timna asked for their help with the clothing that was bought for them. Since she'd said the magic word, in another minute, she was back with her volunteers and the women fell on the clothing, each looking for something for herself so that she might finally get out of her armor. Four of them did not have blue eyes and these were given more of the clothing, since they would be spending more time away than the others learning what they could in the city. The ones who had found something which fit them began to drift over to the stables and the smith found that the strange day was beginning to look better to him every minute. "So now that you have seen how you might think between you," the priestess smirked at the builder and the captain, "do I need to ask my master for the gold to repay you, Anat?" "Nay," she smiled, "I think that we have enough between us here to exchange ideas. Dagon smiles more even now, and it makes me happier for it. Thank you, Nisi-ini-su." "Psh," her friend blew between her teeth, "I only wish to see that you get the worth of your money. You might go and help him a little and bring others too as he begins to think of how he might build the place for the weapons that are to come soon to train the men with," the priestess grinned. "But I heard your mother say that there would be no school," the captain said. "We are not to look as though we know that," her friend smiled, "and the space there can be used to hold fighters out of the rain and cold as well as weapons if your handsome new boy thinks about it." Two of the "spies" in the group went out into the city to learn of the streets, but they were back within the hour. "There have been poisonings here in the palace," they said, "the people everywhere talk of this. Important people are dead, they say." "The food has not arrived yet from the palace kitchens," the priestess said, "and now I will make sure that no one will eat it. Go back out. I will tell Timna and see what may be done to help her prepare for us to eat our own. What they will bring to us here may feed the crows." When the food did arrive, it was placed outside and watched. In less than an hour, there were three poisoned crows and seven dead rats near to where the food had been placed. The warrior looked a little sad at what he saw. "I am sorry, my love," the priestess said to him softly, "there is no trusting your general. You see how he rewards your service to him." "Twelve years, I have served," he said. "I still cannot lay the blame at his door but I will trust no one anymore but you." --------------------- The evening was well into dusk when there was a knock on the door. The warrior opened it and the lord general swept in with two of his guards. They were already into the room before any of them noticed the two guards there behind the door wearing armor and helmets. "What is this?" he demanded. "Nothing much, lord general," the warrior replied with a smile, "Wherever I go in this palace, I seem to find myself making enemies of jailers and gate guards. I wish to wake up in the morning after I go to sleep, nothing more. I keep some guards myself here who cannot be bought." The general recoiled slightly when he saw the priestess step from behind him. She looked to have eyes only for the warrior and almost ignored the one who'd had her thrown into the jail months before. "The witch!" he gasped, "and her hands are free!" "Please calm yourself, lord," the fighter smiled, "I cannot have her live her life with her hands bound, can I? I know of her powers and she has not harmed me. Please, sit down." The general looked nervously at the young woman, but she only looked at the fighter and cooed softly into his ears as she kept her body against him and kissed him softly often. The older man stared, "What have you done to her? All that I heard was that she killed any who tried to --" "Kill her," Lugalbanda said, "I have heard what happened. Any day that you wish, I ask only that the jailers who survived be brought to me along with their toothless leader so that I might finish what the priestess here has begun for as jailers they do you no credit. I learned something a long while ago about how one treats defeated ones. If you treat a man like a man, you might one day make a cautious friend, but if you treat a man like a dog, he will only wait for his chance to rip your throat out." He nodded to the general, "If you treat a defeated nation like dogs, then every single one will need to be hunted down if they are proud like these ones. It costs you many men and much time and gold. These ones cannot be crushed so easily as many nations might. They only spring back up as soon as you lift your foot." The priestess hissed softly at the older man, "He did nothing to me but give me back my dignity. You gave me to one who is man enough for me, that is all. You should have thought of it sooner. He keeps me pleased, and now I try to be a good slave-girl for him. Look," she held up her hands, "I have not killed even one with my hands free. It is more than you could do with your fat jailers and my hands were bound then." She went back to her whispers and the softly moaned sighs that she breathed into the warrior's ears. The general shook his head and sat down across from the warrior. "I begin now to prepare the school, lord," Lugalbanda said, "give me a fortnight and all will be ready. Give me only a week, if it is all that you have and I can even begin then." The older man shook his head again, "The school will have to wait, Lugalbanda. I know that you are not from near here, but my father, Mesh-ki-ang-gasher will die soon and leaves only me as his heir. I am named as one of several for the priests to choose from and it seems likely that I will be named king." The warrior smiled, but said nothing, knowing that most - if not all of the other choices and many of the priests - would be dead very soon. "When you hear that it is announced," the general said, removing all doubt from Lugalbanda's mind, "I will leave Eridu here soon after and march on Uruk to set up there as my kingdom. I know that you will always do what I set you to, so get you there as soon as you hear and see what may be done to ease the fight for us. The city is growing and stands now at thirty-five thousand. There is no wall and they have but a small army. I will bring five thousand. See that I do not need them all and since there are no fortifications, I do not expect to have to lay a siege to the place. Do this for me, and you will be a leader in my army." "Then it shall be done, lord general," the fighter bowed low. Straightening up, he asked, "Would you care for something to eat from what I have here? You could always ask one of these guards of yours to taste the food first." The general smiled, "I would eat a little, but only if one of your guards there tries it first." "As you wish," Lugalbanda smiled, motioning one of the two guards to eat," Say only what you would like to have a little of, and it will be tested." "Everything," the general smiled, but after the guard had tried a little of everything there, he told the fighter that he'd changed his mind. "I see now that your guards here are Amorites. I will not eat after one of them has touched any food here." The warrior shrugged with a smile, knowing the lie when he heard it and purposely took up a leg of fowl that the guard had set down last to make a point, "They are here so that they might feel better about the priestess. It keeps all of them calm. I feel better because as I have said, they cannot be bought." The general grinned coldly, "It is your choice, Lugalbanda, what you do and who you rut with. You know that if anything happens to your witch here, these guards will turn on you first," he said as he got up to leave. Nisi-ini-su's fingers were a blur then and she plucked out one of her hairs and then sprang to pull out one of the older man's whiskers from his beard as well. Before anyone could even move, she sat back down and laughed as her little fingers flew. The general's guards reached for their daggers, but found the blades of the priestess' guards against their throats. As they'd discussed it, Lugalbanda stood up holding one palm up and moving his fingers as he'd learned. He was surprised when the faces of the general's guards suddenly held blank expressions and they relaxed, lowering their hands to their sides, mesmerized by the motions. He stopped, still holding his palm facing them. The lord general gasped and clutched at his chest while her fingers wove through the air in front of her. "If anything happens to me or to my fine lover here," she smiled, "your heart will be squeezed until it bursts. You feel this already and I only tie the knots." She stopped, grinning as she held up the knotted hair, woven in intricate patterns. "So. It is done, grasping lord general of vultures. There will be none of your treachery against the Martu here at Eridu either or you writhe in agony as soon as the words pass your lips. Do you doubt me, the one whose hands you had bound though it killed many men? Go and try," she glared, "and we will see what is what." She grinned at him coldy, "You will feel the pain of the women and the children who were slain at Ninab before you pass yourself. Once it is done, you will be among them for eternity in the dust of the soon-dead city of the Martu." "What do you mean 'soon-dead', witch?" She chuckled, "We will outlast the Sumerians as we have outlasted others before you by our will and our magic. Have you heard anything from the garrison commander at Ninab? No? Go and send someone, but tell them not to stay after nightfall, lord, ... general, if you wish to hear their news. The city is empty, the lands are bare. What Martu remained there after your conquest have gone. The only ones who stayed were not Martu and most of them have gone out of fear. The soldiers cannot leave, they die of they try." She laughed at him, "They die of they stay, and it is not healthy to walk the streets after dark. How much did your conquest cost you? You have won the chalice, but there is nothing but dust in it to drink, and while you look elsewhere, the cup itself crumbles." And this," she snarled as she held up the hair knot, "this here today is so that you might know that you are not all-powerful. This is so that you know that what you do lasts and echoes. You threaten this fighter? After his years of loyal service to you, you try to poison him? You should have seen his face when he realized what it has bought him. If you were here then I would have fed you your own bollocks over it. This here is for that also, though he will do what you want and have Martu help for it. Remember my face when your heart hurts you. Any treachery against us - anything, and you become the one of the very things which wail and kill the living at Ninab. You will be hunted by thousands of them forever." The priestess nodded, "Now you live on my string, general. Try hard not to remind me why I do not like you." The fighter clapped his hands together, and the guards looked as they'd been before, nervous and hostile. He smiled at the general only slightly, "I am still loyal to you, lord Enmerkar. I am only more careful these days, that is all. The food that I offered was prepared here. I think that I know the reason that you would not eat. It did not come from your kitchens but you thought that it did. What came from the kitchens is outside killing rats and crows." "But do not worry. None but us here know of your ... pains. When you succeed to the crown, I will go to Uruk and prepare it for you. If I can, I will do more than that and hand the city to you, but for this, I want to fill the general's place in your army when you leave your title and take up the one of king." The stricken lord felt the tension in his chest ease a little as he heard the priestess chuckle. "Go and let your physicians or anyone else try to find what is wrong with you, and the knots will grow only tighter each time and remain tight. I will see now how you like it to be bound by another." The general reached for the door and was gone. ------------------- They were left alone for the next two days, and during that time, the priestess and the warrior tried to prepare as much as they could against what might be asked of him. Timna began to find some of her long-lost self-confidence returning as she warmed to the job that she'd been given. It was a busy life, but she enjoyed it and the way that everyone seemed to include her in the problem-solving of how to prepare. She found that Anat and Nisi-ini-su were such close friends, and yet they were happy to include her often in their talk. She was happiest when Anat gave her a dagger and taught her a little of how to use it and when the priestess fussed over her, trying an endless line of new ways to tie her hair, or suggest small new things when they were in the market together. Timna was almost without words when the priestess told her that they were going to look for only one thing that day at the market -- a new dress for Timna. The other fighters often talked and joked with her, making sure that she knew how thankful they were for the clothing that she'd made just so for each one. Mostly, they began as simple robes or dresses, but they were far from that when she handed them back. It was far better than the life that she'd had in Ninab. She'd never had so many friends in her life. The second morning was something of a shock to Timna when she found herself alone with Lugalbanda while everyone else still slept. "I am here to help with whatever you need of me," he said, "I see the way that this goes here, and it is time that I offer to work for the one who is the center of my household. Nisi-ini-su is the brain, Timna, but you are the keeper of the hands here. I think only of the road that lies ahead of me and so I have the time for this now." Timna looked to see if there was sarcasm in his face, but all that she found was well-meant mirth. She set him to work chopping vegetables and he amazed her by finishing far faster than she'd have thought. He bowed, "I need more to do, Timna. Give me another task." The faster she gave him jobs, the quicker she found that he worked. She had almost no time to decide on what she would do herself. She was giving him whatever she could think of. Finally, she had him slice some meat thinly and then she began to cook eggs as the morning bread cooled. She shook her head in wonder when he held out a chair for her. "Sit, Timna, and I will cook while I cut the meat." "What will happen when the king dies, as they say that he will?" she asked, her eyes looking at his chest. He shrugged, "We will leave for the city of Uruk to get there before the new king arrives." She had another question that had been on her mind for almost a day now. "What will become of me then?" "You can remain here, though I would not recommend it, or you could come with us. We would all like that far better, Timna." "And you, Ba'al," she said, "what would you like, that I stay or that I go too?" "If you stay," he said with a grin, "you would have the bath all to yourself, but for my part, I would like it if you come with us." Timna had to wonder about his answer a little. She noticed that he had obviously meant it very much. "I still learn," he said, "and though I can lead the prayers now, there is even more for me to do, and I must think and plan what I will do when we reach Uruk. I will need much help from everyone then. If you are there, it would go easier, and the trouble of where the large pot is packed and who sleeps where is in your hands," he smiled. "These are only small things while we stand here and joke, but when it happens and we are beset with many things, that is when the solution of these small things is more important than anything." He grinned to himself for a moment, "And besides, I like to watch you as you tell us all what we are to do." "Thank you," she said. "I have sometimes felt as though it made no difference to anyone if I was with them or not. In my family's work, I would be shouted at if I was too slow, or if I was not too slow. If I was even faster with my work, I was shouted at for that." She shook her head a little, remembering, "I used to wonder what would have happened if I was not there at all. I wondered if any of them would even notice or if my being gone would bring the whole thing to a halt, only because they wouldn't know what to do if I was not there to shout at." She felt his hand on her shoulder and she looked up. His face showed concern. "And here, Timna? What is it like for you here? I have heard no one shout, but is it too much for you?" She didn't know how to respond at first. It took a second for her to come up with her answer because of his touch. "Here I am happy, Ba'al. Everyone seems to need me, and yet they are all friendly and are thankful for whatever I do for them." She looked at him and then she stepped a little closer and he heard her voice as a whisper, "Are you here with me because your woman asked you to be?" He nodded, "We spoke and even fought a little -- which is a hard thing to do with Nisi-ini-su and win. She told me that I should get to know you, and I agreed but I was busy with other things then. The time of it here is my choice, and it is the right thing to do. I can usually not get near to you at any other time." He smiled, "You are always needed somewhere. That is why I decided to come to you now when we might talk. I grow to like you even more than I did before." She nodded, and he kept working at everyone's breakfast. ------------------------- That evening, she walked to one of the tents carrying some dresses with the priestess. As she began to step inside, she froze and Nisi-ini-su almost walked into her. "What?" the priestess asked her. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 04 Timna turned her head and whispered, "Two of the women there are together in one of the beds. What should I do?" Her friend chuckled, "Bring them their dresses, of course. We will not disturb them much, I think, and I do not want to stand here all evening waiting for them to finish. Go in and put the dresses down." Timna stepped inside, and heard their quiet thanks to her. She stepped out again and waited for her mistress. Nisi-ini-su came out of the tent grinning. "What is the matter, Timna? Of the twelve with us here, there are two couples between them. They are fighters, and this is what they like. Not every girl wants a man and not every man wants a woman. It happens more among fighters, I think, because of the duty in far places often away from cities and towns but I do not know this for I never thought of it much." She put her arm around Timna's shoulders, "Come on, my friend who wears blinkers. We are finished now tonight at last and I want a bit of wine before I begin the huge task of making mighty Lugalbanda happy once more." Timna looked at her, "This is not a joyous task?" The priestess laughed, "Oh, it surely is, Timna. I only make jest. In truth, if there were none of this to be done, and I could manage it, I would keep him tied by one ankle to a tree in a sunny orchard and never let him go. It is much joy and even amusement loving with him. We have only been together a few days, but we seem to love each other more every hour. It seems a little silly sometimes," she said, "we catch one another looking at the other in wonder quite often. We both feel foolish then, but I am so happy that I have him. And that is only for me. That he comes to the faith and rises as a priest is beyond great luck and fortune." She stopped suddenly and looked over, "Do you mean to say that you have never known that some women do this between them? I thought you went to the temple sometimes." "I did," Timna answered, "I guess that I just never looked very hard there in the dark. I remember seeing women meeting there, but I never, ..." She shook her head, "I must really wear blinkers as you say." "Well," her friend laughed, "if you ever become a little curious, only tell me or Anat. We will see what might be done." Timna was astounded, "You have done this, what I saw back there?" "Of course, Timna. I had to remain a virgin, did I not? So I could not play with men at all. But I went to Jebel Bishri as often as I could manage it, once or twice a year, most often to study and learn and always to visit my friend Anat. We were lovers often once we were grown. We found this joy between us one day on a warm hilltop as we rode. There is nothing wrong with it, though it is a little different now, I guess. Our Ba'al is the only man that I have ever lain with." She chuckled, "I could have used your help the night that we began between us, Timna. You had more knowledge then of how it goes. I felt quite foolish." Timna smiled shyly, "I have only lain with a man three times, Nisi-ini-su. I don't think that I would have much advice to offer you." The priestess grinned, "Well that is much more than I had then. Even now, you have had three times as many men as I," she chuckled, "I would have been glad of your help. It went well anyway, he was kind and gentle with me." She thought about it for a moment, and kissed Timna on the cheek. "I am happy that I made a friend in you and how we can talk of anything between us. I have so much on my brain now that I sometimes do not know what to think about next, but you help so much with everything and I feel close to you. So if you want to try, as I said, only tell me. I think you are lovely and I would like it with you very much. Come now. There is a warm fire and wine inside -- two things which I want now that are lacking here where we stand." They went inside and shared a large goblet of wine between them, not saying much so as not to disturb any who might be sleeping. About halfway through the goblet, the priestess turned to Timna, "Here, you finish the wine. I go to my man now. Dream well." She hugged the girl and kissed her on the lips softly before walking away with a smile. Timna sat wondering and touched her lips once before sipping the wine slowly. Born to a busy family of weavers and clothesmakers where both parents, especially her father, had yearned and prayed for a son to help with the heavy work, she'd been raised never to question and to do as she'd been told. When her younger brother had finally appeared, the little bit of affection that she might have told herself was in their shouts to her had evaporated and she'd felt more like a less than valued employee than a relation no matter how hard she'd tried to please her parents. In her lifetime, depending on who was insulting her at the time, she'd been called ugly, hideous, fat, homely, cow and once, even a sow. She almost knew the list by heart. She knew that she wasn't overly large, but the words had stung her hard and the images remained in her memory. She still believed it somewhere inside her. The greatest adventures in her life had been the few times that she'd gathered up enough of her courage to go and spend an evening naked pleasuring herself hopefully in the beautiful gardens at the temple in Ninab. She'd never gone in the daytime out of fear and her shame and anyway, she was busy at work most days. Three times, she'd found a man there on those evenings who could overlook her lack of charms in the dark there and fuck her long enough for her to enjoy some of it before melting away into the darkness. One had even thanked her, saying that he'd enjoyed her so much. That had made her feel so good to hear it. If only she'd dared to ask his name... Then the Sumerians had come and everything was gone in a flash of burning and brutality. She'd tried to run, but was caught by the roving bands of slavers. She thought about it. Not once, not even one time in her whole life had anyone thought enough about plain Timna's feelings long enough to tell her that they thought that she was lovely. But the beautiful priestess had, and Timna was at least a little certain that she'd meant it. She sipped her wine and touched her lips again before going to bed herself. ------------------- It was still dark the next morning when the spies came back to say that the old king had died. In less than thirty minutes the cart that the warrior had bought the day before was loaded and they were plodding out through the old gate behind the fighters, heading for the city of Uruk. They rode with Lugalbanda and Nisi-ini-su leading, sometimes joined by Anat. After that came the fighters and then Timna and her cart. Behind her, rode the two men. Timna had hated it when her father had taught her to drive the family wagon as a girl. Now, she was thankful as she watched the way ahead carefully until they got out of the hills and onto the road. In modern day measurement, it was about fifty miles to Uruk as the crow flew, but the road wound here and there around hills and swamps. It took them three days to get near the place. As they traveled, Timna enjoyed frequent visitors on the bench of the cart. Every so often, one of the others would ride up and tie their horse to the back of the cart at a trot and then run up to sit with her for a time and talk. It made the day pass better for her and she felt more like a part of things rather than the driver of the cart which held their pots and pans. The first night was a little strange. They pulled off and out of sight of the road near to some salty pools. Ba'al Lugalbanda had known of this place, and they'd brought water for the horses. The nice part about the pools was that the water wasn't freezing cold and one could soak a little to get the kinks of the road out after their light meal as the evening gloom darkened around them. Timna sat on the muddy bottom up to her neck and just smiled because she felt like it. It caused some of her companions to laugh. More than one of the fighters called out to her, asking if she'd found a man there under the water to sit on since she looked so pleased. She just answered no, not yet anyway. "Well I must try to find out why Timna grins so much there," the priestess joked as she waded over. She sat with Timna and asked how things were going. As they talked between them of the route and how far it was, Timna was a little surprised to feel her friend's hand cupping her breast under the surface of the water. "Is it alright, Timna?" the priestess asked quietly, "I have wanted to touch you here since we talked." Timna nodded and thanked her friend, "It is good to know that you care for me, but what of the Ba'al?" The priestess smiled as her hands caressed her friend, "We have spoken of it a little," she said, "it is not a problem between us, and anyway, he likes you. He has thanked me often for choosing you. He thought at first that I was bent on freeing every Martu slave in Eridu, but it is not so and he knows this now. He has said that of all the three, that you are the biggest surprise to him, for what you do for us all. I must go now," she said, leaning in to kiss Timna on the cheek before she stood up to wash the mud from her bottom and wade off. As soon as Timna was alone again, she found that she really wasn't. Anat had come to sit with her. She told how she was thankful for her work on the clothes. "You have no idea what it can be like to lead a pack of miserable women who are stuck in their leather armor day after day. They are happy now, and even like this, wearing what they must, they do not mind, knowing that the things which Timna made for them are near if they get the chance to wear them. I thank you for this, Timna," She smiled and crouched to stand up. When Timna stood up finally to rinse off and waded to the shore, she dried herself and went to sit by the fire for a time wrapped in her blanket. Aside from the three who were placed out a little way to watch over them all, the others turned in one after another and she was alone with her thoughts. Timna smiled to herself as she watched Adad in the darkness. She had no idea how he did what he did. There was an almost steady flow of traffic to and from the place where he had bedded down as one after another of the women came to him. She wondered how he could stay awake in the saddle all day, for she knew that this wasn't the first night that this had happened. Timna knew that this went on the other nights back in Eridu as well, but he seemed to be managing it somehow. She watched and listened as she sat, wrapped in her blanket with one hand between her thighs. She wanted only a little pleasure as she thought about things now. She really didn't know how she felt about being intimate with another woman, though she supposed that it was all just expression if you liked someone enough for it. In that light, she could even see how it could happen between men. What Timna couldn't understand was how she was now so appreciated and even -- well, maybe even wanted now. She stopped thinking for a time and just enjoyed what she was doing. With some luck, she thought, everyone but the watchers would be asleep when she bedded down and she might find more pleasure for herself then, if she could hold her mouth shut. She'd had long years of experience sharing close quarters in her family's home and had even been able to find a little bit of careful relief for herself when she'd been chained to others as a slave. She didn't think it would be a problem. What was a problem for her came to light as she searched for her other blanket in the darkness. The Ba'al had mentioned that it could grow cool here overnight from the dampness, and the only blanket that she had was around her, and it was fairly damp. She could already feel the night chill beginning as she searched the cart in the darkness by feel. It suddenly came to her that she'd been interrupted as she'd packed her things into the cart. She ran down her little list in her head, and came up short of only one thing -- her other blanket. She groaned and walked quietly, looking for a place to lie down. She thought that she'd found a place and felt carefully in the grass, but that told her nothing. The grass was already wet with cold dew. Timna laid out her blanket and wrapped herself up as best she could. This night would be plain misery, she told herself. It took no time at all, and she was shivering. If it weren't for this, she might have heard the very soft sighs of the priestess. As he loved the priestess, Lugalbanda listened to what was going on around him. He was too much of a professional soldier to help it. He heard the one shivering close to them and stopped, thinking. He had his answer in his mind even before the priestess could form her question. "Timna?" he whispered, "Timna, is that you?" "Yes," she answered, feeling even worse now because she'd obviously disturbed something. "Why are you cold?" "It is my own fault, Ba'al Lugalbanda, "she whispered, "I thought I packed two blankets as you told us to and now I find that I have only one, and it is damp from my sitting in the pools." She heard a whispered conversation and then they both told her to come to where they were. She objected and apologized for disturbing them, but Lugalbanda interrupted her, "Timna, I do not offer you a choice here. You are as important as anyone among us, if not more, and I will not see you sick or worse when it is a simple thing to be warm. Come here with your blanket, or we go there. You will not go cold this night." "Please, Timna," the priestess whispered, "come here and be warm with us. We would be happy for it and anything else is foolishness." Timna groaned to herself, wondering how it was that if there was someone in any situation who felt like extra baggage, it always seemed to be her. It had been this way for as long as she could remember. Now for some reason, many of the group here liked her and a very beautiful woman who she considered a good friend now over the short time that she'd had been among them all had made a very polite and discreet overture to her -- and still she felt like an extra and unneeded cloak on a hot day, something one carries along just in case, but when the morning grows warm, it is not wanted all the same and must be carried around. She decided to think about that later. It just wasn't right to think like this when she was in the middle of so many who liked her. She knew that she was only carrying her own unwanted cloak. She just wished now that it was a real one so that it might be of some use for once. She got up and grabbed her blanket. There was thin light there from the canopy of winking stars overhead, but it gave barely enough in the darkness to see someone standing up close by. She headed there and stumbled forward when her foot went into a shallow depression in the grass. Timna found herself in their arms, her face against the Ba'al's chest as their arms held her so that she wouldn't fall. "I need to know, Timna," the warrior chuckled, "where have you hidden the wine that you walk like this? We could all use a little now, I think. Stand with Nisi-ini-su for a moment while I arrange the blankets here." He became an even darker shape and then seemed to disappear completely. Timna stood with her friend against her, hugging her tightly. "I feel cold now," the priestess said with her head next to Timna's, "but we will be fine in a little while. Let us shiver together then." She felt the priestess kiss her ear softly for a moment as her hand cupped Timna's bottom. The soft scent of her interrupted arousal came to Timna's nostrils and she found that in spite of her embarrassment at having interrupted them, she liked the gentle smell. In these circumstances, it felt very comforting to her. She sighed and hugged her friend tighter. The priestess slowly lifted her head and kissed Timna. It might have been the cold and her desire to be warm, but she found herself just giving in to it. She was about to return it when she felt the Ba'al's hand on her thigh. "Timna," he whispered, "where is your blanket?" She felt the priestess' soft sigh from the sweet lips just touching her mouth and moved her hand back until it touched his. He felt the blanket and took it from her and they stayed like this for a moment longer. "Lie down, both of you," he said, "and I will cover you and then try to get under without moving the covers much." Nisi-ini-su laid down quickly and when Timna crouched to find her, she found the outstretched hands. "Quickly beauty," her friend giggled softly, "come to me here before we freeze." Timna stretched out on the ground sheet and was instantly in the arms of the priestess as she rolled to cover some of Timna's body with her own. She felt one brief kiss and then heard her tell Lugalbanda to cover them. The blankets were over them in an instant and a few moments later, she felt him against her on the other side and between them, she was completely covered. She felt him move to adjust the blankets a little bit and then to her surprise, he kissed her ear very softly. "If you hold me as your Ba'al, Timna," he whispered, "then you must obey me -- at least a little, I think, no?" She felt herself getting a little nervous for a second. Then again, she thought, he might command her to service him, or her friend the priestess could do that as well. She'd never thought about it before and found it both a little disturbing and yet exciting as well, since it would remove her ability to worry and dither in the unlikely circumstance that they really wanted her. "Yes," she began, "but --" "So then," he whispered, "it follows that I could command you to a degree, yes?" "Yes," she whispered, "but -- " She heard Nisi-ini-su begin to giggle quietly just as he chuckled and sighed to himself. "You find yourself here with another hen, warrior," the priestess laughed softly, "We are all around you. You are without hope." "It seems so, this is how the rumors about me begin." Timna felt his smile. "Listen then, Timna the lovely hen. If something like this happens, and I tell you to come and share our warmth, then you are to take it as my command to you." "I did not want to disturb you," she whispered very softly. "Think of it from our side, Timna. We could not go on, knowing that you are cold on a night this damp. That is why we stopped and why you are here with us now." He felt Timna's nod and Nisi-ini-su kissed her cheek. "I think that you should kiss our friend, fighter," the priestess whispered, "It is only right, since with her here, we are already growing warm and I like the thought of it. She is always so quiet and reserved. Now we have her here with us and I would show her what she means to us while we have the chance of it. In fact," she giggled, "I think that we should take turns," she said softly in a rather decided tone. Timna's eyes flew open, "But --" He chuckled, "I think that you should kiss her first, beauty. I have never seen this between women before and since Timna still makes the sounds here, I think of you with a mouthful of feathers." She felt her friend's hand on her breast, the thumb and forefinger finding their way to her nipple. In another second, Timna gasped in spite of herself. "Timna," she whispered, "If you wish it, we will both love you tonight. He would see what he wonders about, and you would know a little of how we both feel about the one who works so hard for us from dawn to dusk. I know that I would like to see him love you as well and I would have my pleasure regardless. Lugalbanda and I both know that you are shy with us. There is no one here to see us now. You may ask him if it is so yourself, but our Ba'al here favors you and has often told me that he likes how you look to him. If you wish, let him love you for a time tonight. I would not mind it at all." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 04 Timna looked at her and then stared at the warrior lying close against her on her other side. He nodded, "It is truth, Timna. To me, you are comely. If you wish it from me, only say it." Timna felt his hardness against her already and wondered how it was that it had gotten hard and she'd only just felt it now. "You -- you both want me?" "Yes," he said, "we love each other very much, but both of us have found ourselves falling over you. You know nothing of it, but we have spoken of this between us." Timna sighed, feeling her heart swell a little at being accepted. It had taken this -- her being trapped between their bodies under a few blankets on a damp night like this for her to see how they felt since there was nowhere to run while she kept herself busy with the household. She felt little stings at the corners of her eyes when she realized that someone was actually asking her to be involved in something sexual as opposed to her making her way furtively in the darkness to the temple, hoping that someone might not mind pretending that she might be good enough in the darkness. Before her foolish tears betrayed her, she came to a decision. "I wish to say something here," Timna whispered. "I have been with you only four days. I have more friendship and closeness and happiness in my new work than I have ever had, and it feels to me as though I am almost not a slave anymore. In a quiet moment between us, Ba'al, your woman asked me for help if, when her time is upon her, I might give thought to pleasing you in her place. I wanted to speak of it with you yesterday morning when we were alone, but I found that I had no courage to say it. Here like this, it does not matter anymore, so I want to say that I would help you then, though I have not thought of the way yet. I know that I could refuse," she smiled, "but now I want to accept it, and I want this very much with you both." He nodded and leaned down to kiss her softly, "Thank you, Timna. I would have said that it matters not, that you should not feel obliged to do any of this, but Nisi-ini-su has told me that if you offered this, that I should accept and be glad of it, for it would help you to see that you are wanted here among us very much." "Especially by us two," the priestess said softly as she kissed Timna's throat and licked up under her jaw. Timna sighed as she felt him move his head down to her breast. In another moment, he'd found her nipple and began to suckle as his hand moved Nisi-ini-su's hand away from her other one and she felt the priestess' fingers begin to trace their soft and gentle way to her loins. ----------------------- Timna woke up from the cold air that brushed her as the priestess got up. She saw her look around herself at the others there still sleeping. Timna got up carefully as well and wandered over. In the light of a new day, she wondered if things would be different and if they were, just what that would mean. She sidled up to her friend and said good morning quietly. The priestess smiled and put her arm around Timna to lean in and kiss her softly. "How do you feel this morning?" Timna shrugged, "A little dazed, I think." "That is not how you should feel," her friend said as she squatted in the grass, grimacing at the coldness there against her. Timna joined her. "You should be feeling well-loved," her friend said a little sternly as she stood up, "I will have to make my complaint to the Ba'al when he wakes, or is it about me?" "Neither," Timna smiled, "I have never spent a night like that. I am very happy. Thank you," she said as she waded into the now-cold pool to wash. Her hand ran down between her legs for a moment and then she looked over. "Yes," the priestess smiled, "it really did happen, Timna. We both carry our Ba'al's seed today. You took him in all of the places that I did. I was surprised the last time. I could not take him there at first and even now it is a struggle to begin it there, yet you did it easily the first time. He is happy that you like it there too. You are full of surprises to me." "What do you mean, Nisi-ini-su?" "Well," her friend smiled, "I love how you look, and you are better at loving him than I am in one important way. Not to me, but to him, Timna. I am a thin thing and though I want it for him, I sometimes cannot stand the way that man ruts hard and pounds for very long. It all feels wonderful to me, but I do not seem to be built for it because he is so big and strong. It hurts me a little. He is always very nice about it, but I know that he must always hold back a little so that he doesn't kill me." "I watched you together and it was so good to see it. You are bigger than me and so beautiful. He was happy to be able to really plow you well, as hard and as fast as he wanted, and you only wanted more. You should have seen your lovely face then," she chuckled at the memory, "I fell over the edge just from my hand watching you both." It made the other woman smile shyly. "It was so hard to see much because of the night, but I was happy to watch you with him as well." She grinned, "And I know what you mean. I had my moments when he loved you with me beside you. My fingers were already busy, but when you begged me to kiss you then, a few moments of it and only the lightest touches from my fingers, ... I didn't know that I could finish so hard in no time." The priestess glanced around, "Do you know what I really liked?" She whispered across the few feet between them, "When we both went at him and tried to lick everything from the tip to under his sack, everywhere, Timna, and we did it, we two. He is not small from what little I know and have seen. There is so much of him, but still we met each other often. I loved those moments and when our hands touched as we worked him. When his gush came, we were both there for him as fast as we could go, his two women. It felt good to me to share him with you." She'd said it that way because she liked the thought, and also, she was a little hopeful. Timna heard it and they smiled at each other. Nisi-isi-su giggled, "He was in heaven, and I have never been so stirred up." Timna smiled softly, "I was too, but the next thing I knew, you threw me down and were rubbing on me so fast. And your kisses then, ..." The priestess smiled, "Thank you for allowing it and for loving with us. It was special to me." She walked into the pool and leaned against her friend to share a kiss, "Please, Timna, it makes me so happy to love with you. Please come to bed again with us tonight." Timna thought for a moment that she just might cry. She held her friend and kissed her cheek. "I want nothing more than this." Nisi-ini-su pulled her head back and looked at Timna with a bright and hopeful expression, "Promise me that you will." Timna smiled a little, "I promise." "That is so good to hear," her friend said, "then the only questions before you -- " "I will begin the meal in a few minutes," Timna smiled, but her friend shook her head. "That was not what I wanted to say. The only questions before you this morning are, does the priestess now have another lover, and does the priest now have another woman? These things lie before me today as well, and for my part, I am happy with my decisions." She ran her hand over Timna's flank for a moment. "Come. We need to wash and I need to pray quickly so that I might help you make the meal." Timna put her arms around the other woman's neck and kissed her for a moment, "My answers are yes," she smiled, "I have never felt like this before." They walked toward the reeds of the shore with their arms around each other. "There is one more question before me, Timna, beside all of the other ones." "What is it?" Timna asked, "I will help if I can." "How far?" the priestess asked. Timna was puzzled, "How far? What does this mean?" Her friend grinned, "How far away must I be from you to be safe when I tell you that I took your blanket from the cart by accident in my haste last night? I only found it early this morning as a lump under my back. We were lying on it all night." The two friends laughed about it together, but only Timna was laughing after she threw Nisi-ini-su back into the pool. She waded back in to her smiling friend and washed the mud from her face before she kissed her quickly. "You need to be farther away that that. Come, beauty. I have woken everyone with the splash here. Stand up so that I can help clean you and then we must go, or we will only begin again right here." -------------------- The next two days were repetitions of the first, though without the pools. Timna guided the cart and found herself with company on the bench now and then for a time. The only thing different was that now, everyone showed somehow in their speech that it was known among them what had happened and they were all happy for it. It felt a little strange to Timna. She'd have thought that things such as these were quiet, shameful things to be kept hidden. From the way that the others spoke, she supposed that she ought to feel happy that there hadn't been a proclamation issued. At one point, Lugalbanda came to visit her. They talked for a time and then she turned to ask him if there was now a new role for her. He looked a little shy and embarrassed about it, but he put his arm around her and said that he couldn't tell her just yet because Nisi-ini-su had sworn him to secrecy. It was all that he would say other than what they both felt for her. "You know that we both love you -- at the least you ought to know it by now." He shrugged, "Such a thing is a wonder to me, Timna, but I welcome it and I know that Nisi-ini-su thinks of it as unlooked-for, but she is very happy for it all the same." That night, there was not even a discussion of where Timna would sleep. The priestess had a very pronounced mound and Lugalbanda loved to watch her grind it against Timna. He thought that it was one of the most beautiful things that he'd ever seen in his life. From the way that they both loved her, Timna felt almost like a woman with two husbands. She'd never been so happy. During the third night, the women spoke of a competition between themselves. "We must bring two cups the same size to bed one night," the priestess said with a grin, "and we will take turns and it must go on all night or as close to it as our man can last. We will do nothing that night but suck and then put the seed into our cups. Whoever has gathered the most by the time that he sleeps is the winner." Timna complained a little, "I cannot do that as well as you can. I have watched this. I must be allowed to use my hands too. I know that I could get a lot from him in this way too." Timna said, "We kept a cow for a time and I was the one who had to milk her twice a day." The priestess had to agree, but said that she was a little worried then, because her hands were smaller than Timna's. They began to plan it out and Timna agreed to help with her hands while Nisi-ini-su used her mouth and that each would help the other in the spirit of the contest, but when the talk turned to milkstools, they laughed until they cried, seeing how large Lugalbanda's eyes had grown from listening to them. "I don't know why you look at us like that, warrior," the priestess said, "I think that you should feel as proud as we do about how much we can get from you. I only wonder how many women try so hard to get everything from their men as Timna and I. I hear some women complain that they only get one gush from their men, and maybe two, yet you mount us both again and again until we run with it. We are very proud of you." "He is a fine bull," Timna said with only a little mock gravity. "Yes," her friend replied with a serious nod, "a very fine and strong bull." He rolled his eyes and chuckled at them. "There will be more rumors about me and I might become a legend - the fine and strong bull who is loved and milked by two crazy hens." They laughed until they couldn't any more. When they'd gotten over it, Timna asked about something that she'd wondered about. "The times that I was loved by men in the temple gardens, I never got so much from them as you give, Ba'al, and we two girls here can get it often from you between us. I do not understand how this is possible." The other woman smiled, "We share the lock of the faith between us. We both bear pieces of the lock within us. It helps him give so much and it helps me to be so wet. He and I can join and not even move, and we will finish each other, though it takes long then to do it like that, but perhaps best of all, it lets us give to the one that we love between us, and that is you, Timna." "We are so happy with what we have here with you. Please say that you want to go on like this with us, Timna." Timna wept as she agreed, but her tears didn't last long after they began to make love to her together. ------------------------ Late on the third day, they came near to the city and pulled off the road behind some hills. "We wait here for the night, "Lugalbanda said, "This place has no king. It is ruled by a council, so anything that must be done is debated and argued over until the need to do the thing has passed and they can go back to sleep. Anat, we need to know what is around the other side, where the gates are, how many of the army here make themselves known, things such as this." The captain nodded and went to talk to her people. ------------------------ As the evening dimmed around them, the warrior and the priestess were busy with their plans and preparations, but they found the time to come to Timna. "I know how you are now, Timna," he said, "and I know that you now feel unneeded here, but in this you would be wrong. This here is not something that you need to know. Indeed, if you were as good at this as you are at everything else, I would be feeling useless all of the time." They told her to stay safe there in the little glen and if she wanted to watch, she should come no closer than only near to the top of the little rise, but not stand on the top of it, only look over if she felt that she had to. She nodded and kissed them both, watching with a smile as they walked off together holding hands. ------------------------ "Can you reach the city from here?" he asked Anat as they stood together holding their bows in the darkness of the plain. She nodded, "Maybe I cannot reach the little toilet buildings near to the back as you can, Ba'al," she laughed, "but I can reach the temple roof, surely." Dagon smiled as he brought up the bucket of pitch and they each placed a few arrows in it point-downward. "The fire sits ready to light behind you," he said with a grin. With a few prayers and a gentle call into the night, the priestess stood with the ghosts arrayed around her in a half-circle. "Wait until they respond," she said, "for they must send someone out. If you see one who wears a city seal around his neck, leave that one untouched. You are to harm no unarmed people if it is at all possible, but any archers or fighters which may come out, they are yours. Only wait for my signals. Go now." The priestess stood holding the reins of her horse with the two archers a minute later and lit the fire for them with a thought. "Begin when you will," she smiled. He nodded to Anat, "Try only for the temple roof." She nodded and lit one of her arrows. There was no wind and her first shot landed almost in the middle of the roof. The warrior followed suit and before long, the temple was in flames. It was a few minutes before there was any visible sign that it had been noticed, but soon they could just make out the people running to set up a bucket line from the fountain. A minute or so after that, several archers ran out. They shot a few arrows toward the place where the two stood, but their arrows fell far short. After this, they did nothing until a man came out at the head of a ragged --looking group of about a hundred or so soldiers. They slowly formed themselves into some sort of line on the grass. Five score of their riders waited, the rest sat on their dead steeds as sentries far out. The priestess sat at the head of the living fighters. "Try for the grass now between the men and the gateway," Lugalbanda said. Their arrows fell and the grass began to burn. The young councilman coughed and choked, cursing his low position that made him the one who was sent to find out what was going on. He could see the small fire plainly in the distance, and perhaps just the shadows of one or two people near to it. He thought about sending some soldiers out to arrest the troublemakers, but realized that if these two could reach the temple roof with their arrows while his archers could not even reach them, it would be pointless. After a moment, he heard the hooves. "Archers," the old bowman in charge bellowed, "ready!" The archers fumbled there in the dark, trying to nock their arrows by feel. They had no idea what it was that they faced, but they did their best. A group of riders appeared out of the thin mist of the plain. All that anyone could make out was that they were dressed in black and they appeared to be well-used to riding together in groups from the way that they held their spacing. The old leader of the archers called for one man to send an arrow. When it had landed, he turned to the others around him. "There is your mark. Loose no arrows before they reach that. On this side of that arrow, fire at will." But they shot their arrows anyway far too soon. The group of riders reined up and stopped, watching the rain of wasted arrows land before them. The priestess cried out in a high ululating tone and the stationary riders were passed on both sides by a gust of wind. "By Ianna's sweet nether lips," the old archer said, cursing in the colorful manner that old soldiers everywhere have always managed to raise to a fine art form, "what is that?" They watched a cloud of dust approach nearer in the darkness, seemingly of its own volition, but after a few seconds, they saw the sixty riders at the head of the cloud. Arrows were loosed and sailed across the distance to no effect. The soldiers braced themselves for the fight and what pikemen there were among them stepped forward, standing ready to slash at the legs of the horses to bring them down. There was a moment of near-silence on the line, the only sound being the thunder of the hooves growing louder. Then the wind roared through the line and no one heard hooves for the crash of weapons and the screams of the dying. In less than two minutes, the councilman was the only one standing. He was looking at horses with dried flesh and wearing holes that he could see through for a second or so, and then the holes would close again and others would open. The faces of the riders around him varied from the beautiful faces of comely women to dry and dusty skulls. They said nothing to him. He shook in his fear and thought to run through the gateway, but three of them sat there now on their dead mounts. His sandals grew wet from the contents of his bladder. "Ask them what they want!" the councilman heard. He looked up and saw three of the elder council members standing on a rooftop. He saw many frightened faces lining every vantage point. He wanted to invite the old bastards down to ask themselves, but found that he didn't trust his voice not to quaver now. He turned as he heard more hooves slowing down to a canter. There was a woman riding up to him like an apparition at the head of more riders. She sat on her steed covered in black leather like the rest, her long black hair hanging around her as she slowed to a stop before him. He couldn't believe it. He was going to parley with a woman now? "Good evening to you," she smiled. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 04 "Find out what she wants!" the old man called out again. "Are you in command of this place?" she yelled up to him. "I am one of the council," he stood up a little straighter. "That is no answer and you are a coward," she said, her face losing much of its friendliness. "The council sits and governs here," he yelled, "who are you to -" the priestess raised her hand and her voice lost its friendliness altogether as she spoke between her teeth. "Come down here," she said and the man fell from the roof. The others ran for their lives. She looked at the young man before her and shrugged, "I hope the council meetings will take a little less time now." She waited as the councilman before her tried to ask and failed to find much of his voice. "Wh-what do y-you, ..." She smiled as she leaned down from the saddle and gave him about the worst answer that he could imagine. "We want the city," she said quietly. "You have until the middle of the day to show that you surrender it and no one will come to any harm. The people are to stay in their homes and they will not be harmed at all. The fighters that you have here must stand down, come out and place their arms down here on the grass in piles to show us that you surrender. All of the city seals from the council member's necks such as you wear will be placed in another pile. Any who think to keep their seals will be hunted." She looked up and made a subtle motion with her hand. An archer fell from a rooftop with a cry. "The timing leaves your mighty council much time to debate and swat at flies if you begin now. If you show no sign by the time that the sun is higest in the sky, these here -- " she indicated the riders, "will pass into the town and trust me young brother, you do not want for that to happen. We have more archers and while the people suffer as the city burns, they can think on how well-served they are by their council." "After that," she shrugged, "five thousand more will come. Imagine what would be left. If you surrender, the people will be safe, rest assured, but the fighters must disarm and stand down. If we see any treachery, all will die." She sat back up. "Can you remember this?" He nodded, his throat as dry from fear as his feet were wet with it. "Good," she smiled once more, "then I shall hope to see you alive and unhurt on the morrow. Sleep well, if you can." She turned her horse, and the group thundered off. He looked around himself and saw that the dead ones stood there still. The three that blocked the gateway sidled off to the side to allow him passage. He ran inside. -------------------- Four days later, Enmerkar sat riding in his royal litter and eating figs at the head of his army when a pair of his outriding scouts pulled up and bowed from their saddles. "Uruk has fallen, great king. Those you sent stand before it waiting for you. We are to say that the city is yours as was promised." He asked them to repeat themselves, not believing it. He called for his horse and yelled for his servants to bring his armor to him. An hour later he stood with Lugalbanda. "How did you manage it?" he asked, incredulous. "I would have been pleased to find that any gates had been broken or that the army here fought amongst themselves or something that you might have caused to make my task easier. I did not expect this." "I told you that I would see what I might do, my king. Much of the doing of it lay in how I opened up the negotiations, and when it was time to talk, I sent in the one that you hate so much. You really have her to thank as much as me." He looked to see her walking over to them. She must have sprung out of the burnt grass here, he thought, to appear like this inside the line of his guards. She looked very different now, standing in leather armor, tugging at one of her bracers. When she reached them, he saw that their armor matched perfectly. "I did not give leave for you to change the style of your armor," the king rasped. "Well, my lord king," Lugalbanda smiled, "She and the ones who fight for me are not part of your army, and I care not. I like this better. It is not so cheap." He stepped closer so that only the king could hear him, "If your nose has not grown too long now that you wear the crown, you ought to think a moment here. I have given you a city. The streets are patrolled by ones which you have no wish to meet. Other than the dead picked over by the crows around us here, it has cost no lives and the city surrendered peacefully. You have not lost one fighter to this conquest." He pointed, "And all of this was done by one Sumerian and many Amorites. Other than me and the ones pissing themselves inside the city, there was no Sumerian here at all, so this one conquest of a Sumerian city cannot be laid at the feet of a Sumerian king in blame. All that waits to be done here is for you to assert order and tell them all that you are here to protect them." The king thought about it and grinned finally, "There is the matter of you becoming a general, Lugalbanda. For what was done here, I make you a general, and one of my war chiefs. Go now and return to Eridu. I must settle in here, but in three months, after the coldest part of the year, I will send for you. We must plan the next conquest and expand what we have here. I see trouble coming to us from Attra." "If I might ask you, my king, I wish to travel a little in this time and be married. If you have need of me, have a message left at the caves near to Eridu. It will be seen and brought to me and I will come. Do you know the place?" "The Dead Caves?" the king asked , a little shocked, "why there?" "No one will want to disturb the message, sire. The place will be watched, have faith." The king nodded and fighter bowed to his king, but the priestess didn't. She only smiled and held up the knot of hair, and the king's hand found its way to his chest at the twinge that he felt. They walked away together and no one tried to stop them. A minute later, a strong wind blew out of the city gates for a moment and then all was still. Another general walked up and gave his report that no members of the council could be found and that the army had disbanded itself. He was very surprised at the king's next words to him. "Much of this was done by Amorites under the direction of Lugalbanda. Amorites, general -- and AFTER I crushed their land." "Why would they do this for us, then?" the general asked. The king snorted, "I know not, my friend, but I know one thing. I see no pounded-down grass around here, and yet the city gave itself up to Amorites and a Sumerian fighter. Find me some who know what happened here, and one thing more, general." He looked over, "It gives me no comfort to come here to this place to make it the seat of my kingdom and find that it can fall so easily. As fast as you can manage it, build me a wall around this city. All of my troops here will be the first garrison." The general stared, "Five thousand as garrison for this place?" The king nodded and rubbed his chest. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 05 **This is one of those chapters that seem to plague me every now and then. It's nice having a ton of characters doing things, since you can just Brady Bunch it as you go, but the other side of that is that there's a danger of bogging the storyline. Ah well, we'll see how I cobble this together. 0_o -------------------- The mid-morning sun shone down on in the training area as the Martu fighters went through ordered drills called out by one of them who had been designated by Anat for the day. She was with Timna as they did their washing. "They sit like that for hours," Timna said with a nod at the priestess and her warrior, "Only their hands move sometimes and now and then, there is a smile passed between them. Other than the motions of their prayers, I do not know what they do this for." "They pray together," Anat said, wiping some sweat from her brow, "and she teaches him more of the faith. I know that when they are like this, they can speak between themselves and not say a word." "Watch now," she said, "see her hand there. He stares as he learns a new prayer by watching her hand. In a moment, he will begin what he has learned. It is said that he learns faster than anyone before him. My old friend the priestess tells me that we will all need him soon. All over the land around here, there are cities, and each one has a king. Each king preaches some lie that he holds the favor and the love of their goddess Ianna and beds her every night. They say this so that the people will believe they are wondrous and follow them." "Well," Timna smiled, "that is all either a great pile of dung, or it is one busy goddess. I know that I have my own work ahead of me every night." She looked at her companion, "And I try to keep my prayers humble. I find that it works better for me that way." Anat smirked back, "Why? Do you need to pray for the love of those two? I do not think it would be necessary, Timna. I know how they feel about you." Timna said, "I do not have to pray at all for that, Anat. I only prayed for someone to come and help me with the washing work and here you are!" They laughed at each other. She chuckled,"But why will we need the Ba'al as you said?" Anat's face grew a little grim, "It will come to pass soon, I am sure, that since none can prove who the goddess ruts with, one or another of these fools will need to have a war to show the size of their little bollocks and many will die. Our Ba'al and I share many thoughts about fighting wars, and one of the things that we agree upon is that if the Martu are drawn into anything such as this, at least one of the kings involved must die. We care nothing for the arrogance – or the goddess – but the suffering of the people is another matter and someone must pay." "But Lugalbanda is a Sumerian, Anat. Does he not care about that goddess?" Anat stopped her scrubbing and grinned at Timna. "See him there, Timna. He was born a Sumerian, though a poor one. Those gods have nothing for one such as him. He is far more a Martu now, and from what I have seen, he has the favor of our gods, and you know it, my friend." Timna stopped and looked at Anat, "What do you mean?" Anat grinned, "The two hold the lock between them and it makes them strong in all things, Timna. You saw how we captured the city. I have heard for myself how they make you cry out in the night from the joy that they give you one after the other or together. What is he like to love with? I have often wondered." Timna was thoughtful for a moment as they hung up the clothes together. Finally she shrugged, "They took me to bed the one night and a few nights later, they asked me if I wanted things to stay this way. No one loved me, Anat, and so I agreed. It was wonderful at first, and I still like it with them a little. But he is the Ba'al and she is the High Priestess, Anat. They call me to their bed every night and I must go, just as though I was a slave-girl though they tell me that it is not so. I enjoy it when she makes love to me, just as I enjoy it when he does. But no one ever asks me what I want. These are my blessings, Anat, and I should not question them." Anat caught the sound in Timna's throat and stared at her, seeing the small tear that Timna wiped away quickly. Anat put her arm around the girl's shoulders. "Timna, what is wrong here? Please tell me." Timna sighed, looking down, "I should feel loved and honored, but I do not. After almost a fortnight, I am only the one who has the cunny that they both use to challenge one another. They try to see which one can make me cry out the loudest or the most often." She looked away, blinking hard, "But no one lets me make love at all. It is like going to bed with two tigers every night. I think that they love me, but I feel like a toy that must be shared between two children very often." She looked at Anat, "She offered once to teach me of the love between women. I know what it is to receive this now, but I cannot say that I have loved a woman even still. She is the same as him. I am given no chance to try by myself, and I can only make love to him while she does. I have never had the chance to love her by myself, other than to kiss her here and there while he does the rest. It is a great night for me if I am allowed to kiss her breasts a little." Timna looked down and shook her head, "I have only one thing to learn here anymore," she said with a hint of determination, "and how my question is answered will decide what I do next." "What do you mean?" Anat asked. "I have a question for Adad, and it is between us only. Since it was said to me that I am not a slave, you can all serve your own suppers tonight. There is meat and bread and vegetables, but I will not be there with you. Timna is tired." No matter what Anat said after that, Timna would say no more. When they were finished for the moment, they sat in the shade. Though she wanted very much to comfort Timna, Anat felt only the wall that the girl had put up between them. To Timna's mind, she'd already said far too much and she knew how close Nisi-ini-su and Anat were. The priestess joined them there a few minutes later. "Where did you leave our priest?" Anat asked. "I left him with a task to struggle over," she laughed, "He must recite what he has learned today while holding up a feather in the air before him with his mind. It is hard to do, for the slightest change in thought moves the feather a great deal and if one such as him tries too hard to change the fall or the rise of the feather there will be broken crockery," she chuckled. "His head will hurt before long. What are we talking about now?" Anat shrugged, "Loving," "I always seem to find myself in the middle of the most important things," Nisi-ini-su smiled. "Tell me, Anat, since we have had no time for it, what is it like with Dagon?" "Just as I hoped it would be, my friend," she grinned, "you know how it must go soft with me. I want to have a man in me, but once there, I want caresses and kisses all the while, as soft as may be. I love a man who can take as well as give. Such men are rare – or at least hard for me to find. I think that I have found my match in him." Nisi-ini-su grinned, "Then you have made the best investment." She turned to make a joking comment to Timna, but she was gone. "What happened here?" Nisi-ini-su asked. "She is very unhappy, I think," Anat replied, "It came out suddenly, so quickly that I was not ready to hear it, and it was gone even quicker than it came out. I asked a little, but she would say nothing more of it." "I will go to ask her," the priestess said, leaning forward to get up, "I do not wish for Timna to be unhappy over anything." Anat held her back, "No, my friend. It would be the wrong thing to do here. Let Timna have a little time alone. I will answer for her." Nisi-ini-su stared, "Go on then, Anat. Tell it to me." "Nisi-ini-su," Anat began, "you have done something here that is not right. Timna is hurt..." The priestess sat in shock as her friend related what she'd been told, and by the end of it, she sat with her mouth hanging open, "But if she did not want it, she had only to say it to us." "Nay," Anat shook her head, "you do not see it from her side, my friend. Think on it a little. She is the servant here to two powerful people. To her, it was as though she was commanded and she would never have refused for this reason. She knows that she is at the bottom here among us all - even though none of us see her in this way. We all love her for what she does for us." Nisi-ini-su felt her own tears then. "I have done something terrible to one who was a friend to me. At the least, I must tell her that I am sorry and try to make this better." She looked at Anat, "I feel awful." "I do not know if it is too late, but I think that you should think about what you will do without her. I believe that she thinks to leave. I can help with the serving of the meal, but the rest is between you and Timna. Give her a little time." ---------------------- Timna wandered from the kitchen doors and along the wall, trying to brighten her outlook while staying out of the way of the fighters as they drilled. It had taken her this long to decide it and she had to ask something of the smith. She found herself near the stables and walked inside, stopping to watch Adad work at trimming the hooves of one of the horses. It took a few minutes before he noticed her. "Timna," he smiled, "I haven't seen you here before. How are you?" She found herself struggling a little to find her words, but finally held out the platter and the wine jug and said, "I – I came to ask if you wished to share some food with me. I work from dawn to night and never see you much and you are always so busy here." He wondered at her meaning, and whether she meant the way that the fighters always seemed to come to him. At last he smiled as he finished trimming the hoof and led the horse to its stall. "No one here says what they mean to me, Timna. You and I have not spoken much at all. Please, can we have it so that at least we two say what is meant? If you can do that, you would make an honest friend in me." Timna grinned, "Then that is what I want, Adad. More than anything here, I want an honest friend." "Then set those things down here and let us talk between us." He said, "I can set the work aside for a time." "Of everyone here," he smiled, "you and I are the busiest, I think, and I mean that plainly." He shrugged and looked down as he raised his hand to run his fingers through his hair, looking for the words to say. "Stop!" Timna cried, stepping closer to grab his hand, "Look at what you would do first," she chuckled. He looked at his hand as she held him very firmly by the wrist and felt suddenly thankful. "There are much better things to put into a man's hair, even here," she smiled. He nodded and went to wash his fingers. "Thank you. I was going to say that you and I work the whole day long and then again at night. I cannot complain, I suppose, since I live the dream of many men, I guess, but it is not what I would want if I lived in my own dream." He looked at the place on his wrist where she'd seized him. "You are very strong." "Fat girls usually are," she shrugged. He shook his head, "I know what you think to say, and it is not so." He looked at Timna and saw that she'd forgotten a few things in the heat of the day and from her washing. Her dress was pinned and bunched up high on her thighs and the neck of the garment was wide open. He wondered to himself if he ought to tell her. Then again, he thought, he wasn't wearing all that much either and decided to enjoy it. She smirked, "I know what was meant when you spoke of your dream. I feel that I shouldn't complain, but what I have is not what my heart wants either." She looked past him to the other end of the stables. "Why are there two troughs for the horses, do they fight if they must wait for a drink?" He chuckled a little, "It was done for that purpose, but the horses do not care, and that large one is in the sun too much and so the water grows warm. They do not like it, but I do." He smiled at her in a conspiratorial sort of way. "That is my private bath, since even the horses do not want to drink there." Timna laughed, "Then come with me, Adad and I will tell you of my own little dream." He was surprised, but liked the feel of her hand holding his and so he followed. Standing at the deep trough, she tested the water and smiled, "This is perfect for a day such as this. The water is warm, but not hot." She reached out to him and touched his shoulder. "I will tell you a few pieces of my own dream, Adad, and then you must tell me some of yours. But first," she smiled, "I will tell you the things that I like in a man, since it says much in my dream." He nodded in encouragement, fascinated by her voice. "I like a man who is strong and one who has no fear of work, just as I am the same. The small thing that is a drawback is that such a man often has a very nice smell, but the work adds its own to that and in the middle of the day, even the cleanest man of this kind in his habits does not smell at his best to me. You understand me, don't you? I have seen you bathe often when we were on the road to Uruk and back." "You watched me?" he asked, suddenly a little embarrassed. "Yes," Timna nodded, "as often as I could manage to steal a moment for it. I like to look at you, and when would I have any other chance to see your body for myself? I love to watch you bathe." He smiled though not with quite so much embarrassment as before, so she stood a little closer to him and placed her hand on his chest. "That is why you must step into the trough here. I wish to bathe you, Adad. I know that it is the middle of the day, but right now, no one calls out to either of us over some work that needs to be done. There is no one here, and I want to do this for you very much." Adad wasn't stupid, and so he didn't argue. He'd found Timna in his dreams often and wondered if her dream was something like the one which haunted him. "I know that you have been doing the washing all morning," he said softly. She nodded with a smile and a helpless shrug, "And so I am a fat prune now." He shook his head. "If you want to bathe me, then I want to do the same for you, Timna, so you and I will have to take our rags all the way off here. I wish to show you something." He helped her out of her dress and then she removed the loincloth that he wore. She motioned to the trough, but he shook his head and pointed at their reflections. "Look at yourself there, Beauty," he said, "I see a girl who is lovely and strong. You are larger than the stick women here, but I see nothing of the word that you have used twice now to me. Have you seen the horses here? They are all but one of them fine and healthy horses, all but one, and that one is the master here among them all and they know it. Do you know which one I speak of now?" Timna stared at the two people looking back at her in the water. She nodded absently as though she was a little lost in her thoughts, "Yes," she whispered, "the Ba'al's steed." "Good," Adad sighed with a smile, "so then you have a bit of an eye for horses. And what is different about that one, Timna?" She wanted to shrug, but she didn't, "He is a different breed, being a war mount." "Aye," the smith replied, "not really the same as the others at all. Bred from solid working stock, but also given speed and the ability to use his power and feel proud for it. He has no shame, just as he has no fear of men. He stands there in his stall pleasuring himself, and knowing all the while that the mares here all stare at him and nicker, wanting his attention even though they are not in season. He cares not and does it in front of them often all the day." Timna laughed a little, "I did not know that a horse can pleasure himself. How it is done by one who has no hands?" Adad grinned, "He stares at the mares and has wishful thoughts and then he hardens. It hangs long and the mares cannot look away anymore by then. He knows this. He begins then to tighten his muscles and it slaps up against his belly, over and over until he gushes, usually all over himself. You ought to see the looks on the mares then," he laughed, "they stare even more, watching it run down and drip from him. I have seen him whinny then and do it again before he softens too much, just to sling it around even more for them. I am a little afraid of what will happen when a mare comes into season. If she is one that he fancies, I think that he could break the stalls here apart easily to get to her." His hand came out to rest against her hip for a moment before it ran up and down. He kissed her as he did this for a moment. "There are no rolls on you and none on me either. Feel my hand here." It was not really a caress, it was more of an appreciating touch and it was not lost on the girl, what he was trying to say with his gesture. Timna felt her heart begin to flutter a little. He pointed to the trough and then he helped her in easily before he climbed in himself. They smiled at each other as the displaced water poured over the rim a little. He pulled her to him to kiss her lips once very lightly. His reward came to him in her soft sigh. "There is strength in his build, Timna, just as there is strength in the way that we two are made, and Beauty, I can say that while we are all larger than the rest here aside from the Ba'al, there is none of that word here between the three of us. You should feel proud, I think." She kissed him then and her lips trailed along under the side of his jaw, "Only from you, Adad, I can believe it at the last, and I thank you for what you have said here," she nodded and smiled softly at him as she began to wash the sweat from the muscles of the blacksmith. "Tell me of your dream, Adad. I love to hear you talk, and I am happy to be this close to one such as you. I would like to tell you that if you wish it, you could have me, but I think that if you had wanted me, you would have shown it to me before." He shook his head, "When Timna? I am beset with the work and after, then the fighters would come to me. But I sleep alone now from the second night on the way back from Uruk." "Really?" she asked, "What has happened?" "Close your eyes a moment, Timna, and tell me what color my hair is," he said. "You do not have the coloring of most of us," she said looking down, "your hair is dark brown, just like the mane on the cart horse." "That is true," he said, "I am Martu, but I am a little different. And what of my eyes, then?" "Brown as well," she laughed, "I know this because I like your eyes very much." "You see?" he smiled, "It says something of you that you bother to look." He shrugged "I grew tired of what the fighters want of me, for there is no feeling from them. They are all glad that I am here, but I do not need a face for what they want. When I said no the first time, that one went away, but then I faced four of them, all wanting to know what was wrong. Since it was dark, I asked them just what I have asked you here, and none of them could answer on the first guess - and that was what it was; only guessing." He chuckled, "It made them all a little angry with me, but I told them that they did not need a man so much as they needed a thick carrot." He glanced at her and smiled with a little bit of frustration, "I had a thought to speak to you when we traveled, but you were never alone. I even wanted to come to you as you bathed in the salt pools, but I could take only two steps and the priestess was there with you again." He threw up his hands and laughed. "For a time as we traveled, my dream became one where I had the chance to sit next to you on the cart bench as you drove it, but I never could manage even this. I would decide it and one of the others would come to visit Timna." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 05 "But really? My dream?" He shrugged, "I was with a girl once in the temple gardens at Ninab. I loved with her, though I never really saw her face well in the darkness. I only know that from what I saw, she was lovely. I can say that she was everything that I would have wanted. She was inexperienced, but I didn't care for she let me teach her. She was the best lover that I have ever had." He looked down, "But I never learned more of her. I wanted so much to meet her again the next night and maybe suggest that we light only one small lamp so that we might see each other. I already wanted to love her as my own." He sighed, "She was perfect." Timna bade him to raise his arms, and she washed his armpits for him slowly and with a lot of care. "You were certain?" she asked, "After only one night with her, you were that sure? What happened? Why did you not find her to tell her? Maybe you could have had your dream then." He shook his head, and his next words almost caused her heart to stop. "The next day the Sumerians came, and the world turned to hell. I went from feeling hopeful for myself to wishing and praying that the girl only survived everything. What of your dream, Timna?" Timna faced a brief, but intense internal struggle between her fears and her hopes. Finally she just reminded herself of the reason that she'd come here, aside from getting to know the smith well. "I went to the temple gardens too, sometimes," she admitted, "I wanted to learn about loving, but found no men who wanted one such as me, so I went alone. A handful of times, I was alone there and it felt so good to pleasure myself there in that special place, far better than aching for it and fearing to make a sound in the home of my family." "Three times, I found men there who would love me, but the last time was the best." She smiled at him shyly, "He was wonderful. He mounted me just as the others had, but that was only the start between us. Where they were insistent, he was patient, and he allowed me to set my own pace for us – what felt best for me. I thought that it was over, but I was wrong. That man found his way to the bottom of me with his tongue and after making me cry out again, he went still lower and he showed me a different kind of heaven." She sighed, "I had never thought that anything could feel so nice and loving, what he did for me, and then he asked me if he might mount me there if he was slow and careful about it. I told him that he had to wait just a little while, for he had raised desires in me that I never knew that I had before then." "No one has ever allowed Timna to decide anything. No one has ever let Timna choose. But that man did, Adad, and so he made a friend in me that night and had the invaders not come," she looked down a little shyly, "and if Timna could have summoned up her courage, I would have done anything for him, Adad. I would have made him the best friend that he could have ever wanted, and if he was single, since I knew nothing of him, I'd have thrown myself at his feet and begged to be his woman, because until that night, there had been no one who had ever done anything for me such as he did." Timna cupped her hand and let the water that she brought up run down against his armpit as she finished washing the second one. "So I asked if he could wait a bit and he agreed. I was so wet that I felt it leak out of me because I was so excited that he might let me love him. I made him raise his arms over his head, and then I did something like this..." She smiled as she leaned closer and began to lick him there. Adad shivered every time that she breathed, but stood it as she made love to him there with her mouth for a moment before letting her tongue wander lower very slowly. For a time, it seemed that she was stuck for a little while, here and there. She was slow about it so that he might know what was coming when she carefully sank her teeth into his abdominal muscles and growled so quietly in her joy. It was the same over his muscled belly, though she didn't press her teeth there, for there was nothing to bite on but the thin layer of his skin. In that spot, she tasted and dragged her teeth slowly for many minutes, liking how it made him twitch just a little. She spoke again as she washed his straining erection. He looked down and saw her squatting there in the water, her long reddish hair fanning out around her as it grew wet before it sank. "He smelled so wonderful to me that night, everywhere that I went on him," she sighed, "I had never done anything like that and I loved it and wanted only more. At length, I found myself in the same place as I am here now," she smiled up at him, "and then I made love to him like this." He watched her tongue come to him and groaned as she loved him, but she was careful to only drive his need higher. She carefully lifted everything and leaned in closer, pushing her face as far against him as she could. "And then," he heard her say softly from the bottom of him, "I did this." He felt her tongue slide as far back as she could get it to go. "You should lean back against the edge a little Adad," she sighed to him. "I need to get farther in here." He did as she asked and then he felt her bring her face there again. Her tongue found its way to the same spot where only one person had ever thought to love him in this way. After several minutes of listening to his sighs, she wet her finger and began what she'd wanted to do again ever since that one magical night. As he groaned, she went back to suckling on him gently. Timna did her best to lick and suck as she spoke, "That night was pure magic to me, Adad. He let me do this for him and I was so happy for it. I have never had the chance of it again. I loved him just like this until he gushed and I didn't even stop then as we talked a little. He told me what he would do for me and I couldn't stop my own fingers from reaching for myself in both places. When he was ready again, I let him mount me, and he was true with his words. He was a long time at only getting inside me there, but he was so gentle that even when it hurt a little since we had no oil, I let him go deeper." She kissed and sucked him for long minutes after that before she spoke again. "Adad, we stayed joined like that for a very long time, and we could whisper to each other about anything and we did not lose the feeling between us. Sometimes we talked and sometimes we were silent. It was the best loving that I have ever had. He touched me everywhere that he could reach and when it became urgent between us, we both cried out our new-found joy. He thanked me for being the best lover that he'd ever lain with and I wanted to cry in my happiness. The next day everything was ruined when the invaders came." "But I have never forgotten that one man, Adad. I know exactly how that one smells to me under his jaw. I know just how he tastes when I lick his hard belly on the way to pleasure him, just as I know how his manhood makes me happy when it is in my mouth, so I know that taste too. I had a thought many times as I watched the women come and go from where you lay each night as we traveled and I ached to go to you, but I was never sure because I could never get close enough to tell if you were the man." She began to stroke him with one hand as she sucked, and once he settled into it, she brought her other fingers into the play. Adad lost his mind for a minute and didn't know which way or how to buck, but Timna was strong enough to hold him so that she wouldn't lose him in this moment and with a choked cry, his seed spilled and she was swallowing as quickly as she could. When he was finished, Timna looked up at him as she carefully sought any of his seed on her with her fingers, bringing them to her mouth often. "You were that man, Adad. Now I know it from your wonderful smell and how you taste. I know it from the sound of your voice and it makes me so wet just to think about how we talked between us as you fucked me so slowly for all of that time. I still have not had much there to compare it with, but I am certain that if you wish to mount me there today, I will know it even then in three ways." She stood up and kissed him slowly until they both moaned. Pulling her head back to rest her cheek against his collarbone, she smiled, "I will know it as soon as you begin to bathe me here from your touch. I will know it from the small movements that you make while you are in me back there, for no one else can surely do it the way that you do, and I will know it once I braid my hair and hand the ends back to you." She lifted her head and smiled at him, "because when it grows wild between us, We both need you to pull my hair. You will tell me when, and we will stop so that I can hand you my braids. Then we will begin again until you spend yourself inside me." She kissed his nose playfully, "I was in heaven when you did that, Adad. It made me so proud to carry your seed there afterward. I never thought that I was a wild girl at all, but you made me one and then you tamed me that same night, and I have hungered for your touch ever since." He stared at Timna and then pulled her to him tightly. "It really was you!" he cried. They smiled at each other wetly for a moment until she said, "Come, Adad, bathe me then. I cannot wait any longer." An hour later, they lay on the grass and she gasped every time that he moved in any direction but in or out. They talked of anything that came to them and they decided some things for themselves. Once the discussions were closed, it took some doing, but they moved themselves so that Timna could braid her hair quickly and then they just began to pound, each against the other as he pulled her hair and she cried out in her joy. They'd been noticed, but no one disturbed them. At last, they bathed together again and sat naked in the sunshine drying and sharing the food that she'd brought. "There is a stallion that I know," she smiled, "and I would like to watch him pleasure himself in the warm sunshine one day soon as he looks at the one mare that he fancies for himself, the solid and strong mare who would do anything for him." She sipped a little wine and gave a nod, "That would be something to see." ----------------------- Lugalbanda opened the door to the bedchamber to find the smith and the housekeeper there holding hands and bowing low. "If we are not slaves as was told to us," the smith said, "then Timna and I would leave now. We have both been here as workers, but have had to do other things every night and it is not fair – unless we really are slaves." The warrior beckoned them inside and closed the door, asking them to sit and he offered them wine. The priestess began to weep when they refused. "You are not slaves," he said, "but you are servants. In this, you have done well, and though it was not intended, you both became as slaves here as well and this must be addressed or it makes us no better than the ones that the Martu seek to overcome. We offer our apologies and Nisi-ini-su weeps over the loss of Timna's friendship." "If you truly want to go, then you have our blessings, but as an old fighter, it is my counsel to you not to leave yet. I can foresee that we will all need to go soon and you would live longer with us than you would alone, so close to the many who hate the Martu here." The smith bowed a little, "I did not know that you had the gift of far sight, Ba'al." "I have it," he said, "but only a little. The priestess can see farther than I in this way. But I was not speaking of this. I only know what my gut tells me as a soldier. The quick rise in the fortunes of one like me can only ruffle old feathers here, and old feathers always keep long knives close at hand. It is how they get so old." "In two days or less, we will go to Jebel Bishri and you could learn from the smiths there the working of a new metal, Adad. They would welcome you, I am told. For myself, I can say that a man such as you who desires peace in a time of war must learn to fight for it, for peace and freedom are costly things and the clouds darken around us all here." He turned to Timna. "It was never meant, what hurt your heart, Timna, and I am full of sadness and remorse. I do love you and I am very sorry." "Please," Nisi-ini-su sobbed, "I have been thinking the last few days of what would become of you once we leave here, since we must soon. Please, Timna, come with us to Jebel Bishri. I can offer you help in three ways at the keep. You can learn any three of the Mantu arts and I would sponsor you and speak on your behalf if you would but say the word and which of the arts you desire to learn." She sniffled, "I would do this anyway, but now it is even more important to me." The priestess was not too proud to ask to be forgiven. She was surprised when Timna kissed her cheek and told her that the friendship was not lost. "But I have no wish to go to bed with you again," she said, "you meant well, but it is not for me anymore. I still want our friendship if it can be, and if there is a place for us both at Jebel Bishri then I would be happy, I think." ------------------------------- After the evening meal, a messenger came to the door and Lugalbanda left with the priestess and two of the guard dressed in the clothing of women of the city. When they returned, they barred the door. The priestess was all for showing those who would kill them what it was that they were dealing with, but the fighter shook his head, "You could level this side of the palace and do nothing but prove those who hate the Martu right when they howl about the ones who use magic. Boxed in here, we could do terrible damage, but to what end?" "We leave quickly," he said, "It will be taken as fearful flight by them and they will pursue. It will be flight, priestess. I want to get our things, Timna and Adad and Dagon into the caves, and then I would turn back to face them. At the best, they will be city guard riders, I think." "Why only the guard?" she asked. "There may be one or two others there to observe it," he said, "but the old generals will not want to send their own for the time that it would take to rouse them from the taverns first, and so they will likely pressure the guard commander." Twenty minutes later, they were on the road. "What happened?" Timna asked one of the fighters who rode next to the cart. "It went badly," she replied, "It was to be a meeting to get news from the king's messenger. Enmerkar plans now to fight the Khamazi. He asks our Ba'al to prepare for this, but the other lords are envious. We did not mark where it came from, either by the king's orders or by one or more of the lords, but an attempt was made to kill our Ba'al. We slew many between us and left. The king is three generals and four commanders short now. We slew any who drew a dagger." She looked ahead and then back. "We go now to Jebel Bishri by the road of the dead. Try to keep your wheels from finding ruts, Timna. We cannot go slow now." Timna did her best but it happened anyway. At the speed that they were trying to make in the evening gloom, there was almost no way for her to stay out of at least one of the ruts. They could see the top of the hill where the cave entrance was. Behind them, they could see that they were being pursued. When an axle began to grind ominously, Lugalbanda ordered them to slow. He told one of the women to take Timna on her horse with orders to get her to the cave, but Adad had already gotten her up onto his horse. Dagon took the reins of the cart horse in his hand to lead her as best he could. Lugalbanda formed the rest up to block the road and Nisi-ini-su called out and pointed to the entrance. The ghosts sat there on their dead mounts, but pulled back to allow Adad and Timna to gain the entrance of the cave. They were joined a minute later by Dagon and after getting the cart inside the cave, the two men set about their repairs to the cart. Timna drew the dagger that Anat had given her. She felt foolish, but she also felt a little more at ease and prepared now. The riders from the city were elements of the guard with orders to kill Lugalbanda and the priestess above all and to let none of the rest live if possible. They rode hard, headed by the guard commander himself. He didn't like any of this, but liked being threatened by 'brave' generals even less. As he noticed that a rider rode toward them to meet them, he signaled the guard to stop. He didn't know it, but they now stood at the widest spot on the road for miles in either direction. It was where Lugalbanda had wanted them to stop. It was the best place for a fight. Everything else was rock and rubble. It looked to the guard as though only one rider rode toward them and by his size; it must surely be the fighter himself. They prepared themselves for a short fight if the man was as insane as that. But the one rider turned into three before their eyes in the gloom and the three quickly became nine and so on until they faced what looked to be a small host, though most of them seemed to be far behind the first. Most of these other riders weren't even on the road but they managed to keep a solid line among themselves facing the guard. Lugalbanda's large horse had always been a curious mixture of mirth, kindness, loyalty and restrained murder. The beast knew his strength and reveled in its use, yet wouldn't harm anyone without cause. Completely devoted to the fighter who'd befriended him, mildly tolerant of those who fed and cared for him, kind and gentle to any that he perceived that the soldier liked even a little, the beast was otherwise never as happy as when he crushed and trampled armed men in a fight. Even other horses weren't immune. Horses that he'd rammed in the shoulders with his broad armored chest seldom got to their feet again. As the riders drew closer, many of the guard focused on the black armor of the huge steed. It took little imagination to add a soundtrack to the blasts of steamed breath from that muzzle bearing down on them in the cool air of the evening. The first clash was head-on and resembled the ancient version of a modern day rolling train wreck. The road was instantly blocked as the Martu fighters tore into the guard. Many guards found a new definition of the word 'hopeless' as they found themselves jammed in among others and seeing only the huge dark steed of the fighter plowing toward them. More than one man noted the red wetness on the large hooves as they rose and fell on any who were down. The priestess and the fighter had gotten farther in together with Anat and were sawing their way in deeper. It wasn't that difficult, since the mounted guard were armed only with bronze daggers while the Martu all had swords. Those members of the guard with a little more horsepower behind their eyes regretted their easy life in the city in a heartbeat, for these fighters were far from the unarmed and easily-cowed peasants that they were used to whipping and beating down in the street. Most of the guards didn't last long enough to swing their daggers twice and none of the ones lined up behind showed any desire to leave the blocked road to ride forward and be a part of the fight. It didn't matter after another few seconds. The seventy dead riders ripped through the column from each side and then turned to wheel around for a second pass in the other direction. The second-last sight of the guard commander came to him as Lugalbanda's war mount reared up in slow mid-stride with a grunt to crash his broad chest down into the side of the commander's horse. The great stallion's blood was up now and any near to him knew it in an instant. His ears were laid flat down, the open mouth showed his large bared teeth, and those eyes were opened wide enough to show plenty of the whites as he raged. It left little doubt. The sounds that came from him were usually snorts, but now and then there was something like a whinny, though it wasn't at all friendly. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 05 This was one of the things that he loved to do if the fighter allowed it. This was the reason that Lugalbanda had spent his own gold a while back to buy the horse a thick, studded leather breastplate. The only threat to him were bowmen and pike men, but there were none of those here facing him. It was what they both wanted now, so the fighter let his horse have his way. The commander screamed as the pain from his crushed legs and hip reached his brain. He found himself trapped under his dying mount and heard women's laughter amid the screams and the proud whinny of the stallion as he reared once again to bring his great hooves down onto the stricken beast with a heavy snort of damp air. Turning his head, the injured commander saw the long red hair of an Amorite warrior as Anat's sword came whistling in to sever his head through his open mouth. It was over not long after. Several of the guards tried to flee, but the dead riders ran them down quickly. The women fighters rode slowly where they could, picking their way through the carnage, dispatching any who still lived but were badly injured, horses and men alike, and rounding up any horses which stood around. It took a few minutes as everyone's adrenaline levels sank back to normal, but a small commotion arose not far off the road. The soldier nudged his horse and sidled over to find two young men – boys really, not more than days older than eighteen, he guessed – standing back to back waving their daggers in as threatening a manner as hopefully possible at the ring of Martu fighters laughing and cat-calling to them in light taunts. It went on for a little while until one of the younger fighters made her choice. "Come you here, boy!" she yelled, as she slid off her horse to swagger toward the two. She slapped one youth on the flanks with her sword, "Not you, you dirty thing, I mean the sweet fair-haired one here." She took a good long look at him and laughed, "Look at those soft and thoughtful eyes!" She tilted her beautiful head slightly as she called out to her leader with a smile. "Anat!" she cried out, "Oh Anat, I begin to see your wisdom in choosing Dagon as you have. I would give a lot here to see these pretty blue eyes looking up at me over my own fur in the morning." She strutted a little closer and pulled her cuirass open, exposing one breast and many of her tattoos. The blonde's eyes nearly left his head as his gaze began at her face, ran to the breast and slid lower, taking in the markings which led down her hard belly. He could almost make out the edge of the flaming red bush just hidden by the leather. Suddenly he found himself face down in the dust as the women howled in laughter. His cheek burned from her gloved slap. He shook his head and glared up at her. "Come on, Sweetness," she cooed, "It will take more than a slap to tame you, surely. Come on and get up, my love. Come and taste what I have for you." The others laughed and his ears flared red in his shame as he slowly pushed himself up. She let him pick up his dagger before she began again. The fighter leaned forward as she taunted him in a loud whisper that was meant to be heard. To everyone who heard it, it might have dripped her desire had she not been taunting him. "Look, my beautiful fair-haired baby. See what you might suckle on tonight." The youth wasn't stupid, and only stood as ready as he could be. He had a sinking feeling that this was where he would die. She pouted a little, "You will have to try to play at the least, my darling, or I will have to kill you, and that is something that I would hate myself for. It would be such a waste." His eyes flashed at her and she grinned, "Oh, do you see, girls? See the blue eyes that I want to lose myself in." She stepped closer and he batted her sword away feebly. Her face grew a little sad for a moment. "Come. Try at least. If you manage to stick me with that thing," she pointed at his dagger and laughed, "I might just let you stick me with what is there between your legs. At the least, I could reward your bravery with my lips on it until you spend in my mouth. What say you? Hurry now, I already want to taste your sweet seed, my love, but you must try here or I will have to end this." Lugalbanda looked at Nisi-ini-su and Anat. Anat was howling, and the priestess tried to hide her grin behind her hand. On the other side of the circle, another fighter was encouraging the other youth in a similar manner. He knew what was going on here with regard to the blonde one. He wondered if anyone else knew it. To his credit, the blonde lasted longer; his companion was knocked cold in another second. Alone now, the youth lunged, but his red-haired tormentor easily side-stepped, slipping in close to hiss in quiet pain. He turned his head in surprise, not believing that he'd managed to nick her. A part of him recoiled slightly from the thought that he might have hurt someone so beautiful without knowing quite how. Part of him was in heaven because she was close to him here. He was young enough to still be idealistic in spite of the danger to him. He felt the warmth of her firm breast against his chest and he wanted the time to enjoy only that feeling, but he knew that she had no desire for him, other than to make fun of him. She was likely vicious and cruel, he thought, but she was heaven walking to him without a doubt. He froze involuntarily as he felt her gloved hand wrap itself around part of his scrotum and his quickly hardening penis. The fighter was hard up against the youth and made sure that none could see as she quickly hefted it once and smiled to herself so that he could just see that she was pleased, and then her demeanor changed abruptly. "You misbegotten bastard son of ... whatever you are," she cursed loudly as she held him fast. "The stars shine on you somehow. You cut me!" The other fighters yelled and cheered as she grabbed him by the hair and kissed him savagely for a long moment. His dagger fell from his limp fingers along with his desire to kill her. He felt his lips being pried apart and then her tongue was all over his mouth for a moment. When she pulled her head back, the women howled again at the dazed look on his face... just one instant before her elbow cracked into his temple and laid him out flat on his face again. The fighter roared in rage at the sky as the others laughed and joked about her getting slow out of age or desire. "Shut up, all of you," she yelled, "or you can test your ideas and die on my blade. The little turd cut me, it is true, but I claim him!" She scowled evilly at the others around her, "I'll get my anger out, have no fear." The boy raised his head groggily and looked up. She smiled down at him tenderly and dropped to one knee to punch him in the face. This time, he was out cold. ----------------------- He awoke in an uncomfortable position, slung over her horse, and in front of her too. He heard the last words of a quiet conversation. When he looked up, he saw the large leader of the fighters nod at him once and ride ahead. It took him a few minutes to figure things out. He felt no saddle and his loincloth was gone, but he did feel her hand on his ass as she caressed it idly. She noticed that he was awake. "Hello again, my beauty," she smiled and reached down for his face. After frowning as she examined him for a moment, she nodded to herself. "I was afraid that I had ruined you." He made no answer for the moment, but he thought a few things over. "I didn't cut you," he snarled after a time, "why did you pretend that I did, ... so that you could hit me?" She chuckled and slid her fingers a little lower until she could squeeze his scrotum a little. It made him suck in his breath, and in spite of himself, he moved his thighs apart a little. "Ah," she smiled, "I have found a way to help you keep your thoughts from wandering." She looked down at him, "Listen beautiful fool, you are right. I cut myself just a little with the edge of your blade. It was the only way to do this without hurting you. I did it so that I could either claim you, or let another claim you instead. I did not think that you would want that, and so you are mine." She noticed that his manhood had begun to swell, and so she moved it for him a little so that it might not be too uncomfortable to him. He watched her lick her fingers and then he felt her tease him by rubbing a finger into the end of his foreskin for a minute. She leaned down, "Are you still listening? You are far more Martu by your looks than you are Sumerian, unless I am wrong. Say something if you can in the speech." "I am not Martu," he said, "I come from the northlands far away, but I have Sumerian learning." "I mean no jest here," she said, "but it is clear that you are no fighter, though I see that it lies inside you, I think. Why are you here?" He wanted to tell the hopeful lie that he'd tried to use before, but thought better of it and just answered her. "My village was overrun, and I was taken to be sold as a slave. One traded me to another, and some taught me lessons. It was to add to my worth. I was always moving, and came here to be offered to the king, but he did not want me, saying that I looked like a Martu. He had me sent with the guard, hoping that I would be killed and it would save him the embarrassment of refusing the gift. I have been traveling for most of my life." She chuckled and whispered back as loudly as she dared, "You look close enough to us that you might be one who was lost among the Sumerians as a child. I have already told it this way to our Ba'al. I have promised to make you a fighter if you will join us and he would allow it like that. I will replace what they taught with my lessons and my love. I need to tell you things, Sweetness. Are you prepared to listen?" He nodded and she smiled. "You are not lost in the hands of savages, no matter what the Sumerians tell of us. You are here because I found myself smitten. But how to say what I wanted then with the others around? It was a shameful way to do it from your side of it, but I tried to save your life. And I do not lie. If you can behave and use your head, you might really have me tonight. I already know that I want you." She chuckled quietly as he felt her fingertip nudge the tip of him in tiny circles. "So you should play along. The first thing that you might wish to do is thank me. I did this knowing that one of you would have to go back to the city. I did not want it to be you. Looking as you do, you would surely die. Now does this make sense, beauty?" "Thank you," he whispered, "but what happened to the other one? The one who was with me?" "Who was he to you?" she asked. "He worked for the slaver. When the guard looked to be losing, he cut my bonds and begged me to help keep him alive. What happened to him?" "Nothing," she shrugged, "He was left there where he fell. When he awakens, he will find his dagger and a horse staked near to him. It would be a mistake, but he will likely ride back to the palace to tell what happened. Sumerian generals do not like to hear bad news. Your friend will likely be dead soon. It cannot be helped. The generals must learn to feel fear again. They will need to know what happened. That is why they will get no word of it unless they talk to your friend, but the results speak clearly. Two hundred dead out on the road" she smiled, "and ten days ago, the same ones that you saw this night took the city of Uruk." She shrugged again, "It is our way. He may tell of how you were gone when he awoke and some fool will likely tell him that Martu eat their conquests. We do not discourage the talk," she smiled, "but it is not true." She licked her finger again and tried to give him the same pleasant thrill just inside his foreskin. It made her smile to see him harden more. "Do you like me a little better now?" she smiled sweetly, and chuckled when he nodded. "Then this a much better way to begin between us, my lovely friend," she smiled. "We are on the road of the dead and we go to a hidden place. If you had the chance of it, would you like to kill Sumerians like Enmerkar?" From as far away as she sat there on her horse she could see the gaze clearly. "Then if all goes well, you will have a better place to live and be trained to fight once I put the meat and the muscle on you. We seek fighters, and I see this in you easily." She grinned, "It will be hard, friend, but look here if you can." The blonde turned his head a little more so that he could see as much of her as he could as she smiled. "I know that I look fine to you, and I saw one that I wanted in an instant. So? Let us share what we can and I will help you as I may if you would have it. We can hug each other and whisper often between us as we both learn. I will tell of the ways of the Martu and then you must tell me the ways of your people. I get one to share some of my life with and you get a woman-friend who already thinks that you are a wonder. I am a fighter, but I am also a woman - and in the span of a heartbeat, I knew what we might have once I saw how you looked at me. You thought that you would die there, but even so, I saw that you wanted to know me for who I am." She chuckled as she went back to stroking his cheeks. "In the way of my heart," she smiled, "if I am not wrong, then it counts for so much with me - even if the way of our meeting was a little ... peculiar." ------------------------------ Timna and her smith soon found themselves with many well-wishers as they studied what was provided for them to learn. It was against his nature at first, but Adad learned how to fight as well, after it was explained to him that he'd need to know in order to tell if his weapons were of any worth to fighters, and that he might one day need to protect the one who loved him so. The young fighter and her prize lived a deep love together as often as her duties placed them together. He did indeed learn and excel at what she taught him and he preferred to fight with a shortened and sharpened iron pike as a sword. She learned that his name was the word for 'wolf' among his kind, and once she'd taught him her way of fighting, it seemed to do him justice. "You now approach my speed, my love," she grinned at him one day, "but you also have one thing that I do not have. You have the power to cleave a man in two with one blow." She slapped his chest affectionately, "Something like this is worth much in a fight for it takes the will from many only to see it done." One of the first things that he'd asked of her was her name. She shrugged, "There is not much thought to it," she laughed, "for it is only our word for a certain animal." She looked at herself and shrugged, "I am sure that you might guess." "Then I give you the same one in another tongue if you would have it," he said, and she liked it enough to keep it as he suggested, since he'd smiled at her hair and gave her the word among his people that meant 'fox'. Everyone liked it and so it was what she became. They were often sent to pass news to the more nomadic groups of the Martu and it wasn't long before Martu mothers began to tell tales of the Fox and the Wolf to their children. After the cautious explanation of what had happened, King Enmerkar requested meetings in unlikely and remote locations with Lugalbanda during the next year, as they exchanged ideas and thoughts. Khamazi was ruled by a king and he was no stranger to war, having once conquered and ruled over Uruk himself. The present bit of unpleasant diplomatic chatter related mostly to King Hadanish expecting to find Uruk held by the council in his place, but instead returning to find Uruk in the hands of Enmerkar. The proper tones of outrage and threat were noted by each set of ambassadors. Wild claims were made by one king and the other about who slept with Ianna every night. All the while, Lugalbanda and Nisi-isi-su cared nothing for any of this. He was pre-positioning his forces while she sent their spies out to learn of Khamazi. They learned much that was useful, but in one area, they came up almost dry, though they tried repeatedly to learn what could be known. Khamazi had one notable occupant who went by the name of Urgirinuna. It was very difficult to find out anything about him, and the priestess wanted to find out all that she could, particularly where this one individual stood on the subject of the city's conquest... Since he lived there at least some of the year and ... Since he was a rather powerful and famous sorcerer. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 06 **Even Lugalbanda's patience has limits and he shows that in this. He comes off looking a little imperious here, but it's because he knows what has to happen and he's got an agenda. I chose to break this off a little suddenly because I wanted to be able to post a chapter this week. I'll put up the rest shortly. With all of this nation-building and king-crushing going on, I've decided to toss in a little comedy as well. :) So ya got yer high drama, yer romance, some thrills and danger, and out of the bed, there's even a little adventure and a few laughs. And then there's the mystery girl in this. Along with her lover, she's got a role to play too. Well, other than screwing each other's brains out. 0_o ------------------ Lugalbanda stood in the shade of a palm in the garden of his king's small secluded palace by the Euphrates River listening while the latest round of threats and counter-threats between the two kings were read and noted by the dignitaries. This palace had been chosen since he now refused to meet the king in any large palace. He looked out over the low hills at the units of the king's guards waiting in the sun for the king to get this settled so that they could move on to other duties instead of baking in the sun for the benefit of impressing an ambassador who would likely never even see them or care if he did. Hurry up and wait. It had always been the lot of the soldier, he thought, and it likely always would be. The soldiers stared across the hundred yards to the two warriors who sat in the shade and guarded his large mount for him. The woman held her bow across her knees with an arrow already nocked and waiting while her large blonde companion used the time to drag a sharpening stone along the blade of his heavy iron sword. He spun it over without effort to sharpen one edge for a number of strokes and then spun it back to repeat the process on the opposite side of the cruel edge. Now and then, he used a palm leaf to judge the keenness of the blade. This was beyond stupid in Lugalbanda's view. He'd been present at three of these things now. He supposed that he was there to be shown as a threat to the dignitaries representing the other side in this, but the issue never moved and time was being wasted. The ambassador for King Hadanish waxed long over the tribute that his monarch expected of King Enmerkar over the taking of the city of Uruk. The list went on and on, covering just how many thousand head of cattle and bushels of grain and pieces of gold it would take to assuage the feelings of one self-proclaimed son of the gods who felt that he'd been hard done by at the hands of another while both claimed to be enjoying the carnal embrace of the same goddess nightly. Each time that they met, the list grew longer. Enmerkar would refuse, and then begin his own longer list. The emissary would go back to Khamazi along with Enmerkar's diplomats and the scene would be repeated there, only to be brought back here again with a longer list. He inspected a slight cut in the leather of one of his bracers and thought of his friend and beautiful wife. It was at times such as this that he ached to be with her the most. They wanted children now. Just as the ambassador was winding down and the fighter was thinking that it might be over, his own king began to dictate to the scribes what he wanted. Lugalbanda pursed his lips and blew softly out of boredom. Surely one king or the other would die of old age before anything was settled. His eyes bulged when Enmerkar looked to be getting ready to call a halt in the middle of his own list for the mid-day meal. But instead, the king called Lugalbanda to stand before them. "This is General Lugalbanda, ambassador. He is the one who took Uruk away from your king's council in a day." The diplomat barely nodded as Enmerkar continued. "How many did you bring to force the city to its knees, General?" "I needed only seven score and three, my king," Lugalbanda said in a flat tone, "including myself and the cook. The only ones who died were of the city's army and one councilor." The emissary's eyes almost widened at another chance to delay the proceedings, but he forced himself to maintain a somber face. Only Lugalbanda noted it with disgust as the old man began. "There will need to be more tribute paid then to cover the loss of the city's troops and the life of the esteemed and learned councilor," he said. In spite of the fear that he had of the large general in the hall, he managed a dismissive look and said with only a small amount of contempt, "It would take many thousands of troops to even begin a siege at Khamazi," the ambassador said, "for the goddess herself protects the city." He sniffed, "She would surely kill them all." He began to draw up with obvious pride so that he might begin the next round of nonsense, but he found himself on his ear a dozen feet away after the general decided to cut this round short by backhanding the droning fool before he really got started again. "Then let the goddess herself come and strike me down for my insolence at assaulting the esteemed emissary of her favorite – in his own eyes and no one else's," Lugalbanda said with a smirk. "I have seen too much of the murder done in her name to believe much anymore. I cannot imagine that this goddess of love lies with such killers." He ignored his king's hot glare and bent down to look at the shocked dignitary. "If I am correct," Lugalbanda said over his shoulder as he picked the ambassador up by the throat of his garment, "this old crow is under some protection while you both talk and waste time." "Yes," Enmerkar said, a little appalled, "if you kill him it would start a war." "Though that is what is needed here, this one's death would start nothing but the slow plod of another of his kind to your door with even more demands, my king. Hadanish wants no war yet. He wants these crows to talk you into the ground so that he has longer to prepare." The fighter grinned at the frightened face of the diplomat before him. "These talks have lasted almost a year. The way that I see this, the talks will go on as they have for almost another year, and no one will send any tribute to anyone. After much talk, there will be war anyway, and once the city is won, you will get anything that they have not been able to hide." "You-you will not win the city," the ambassador whined almost shrilly, "King Hadanish has a sorcerer!" The fighter shrugged, "I have no fear of sorcerers, old crow. I am the warrior priest of the eresh-dingir, and husband to the High Priestess. Of the host at my command, I hold other high priestesses also." He let go of the diplomat and left him hanging suspended in air as he held up a finger and the ambassador's eyes opened wide to see the little tongue of flame burning at the end of it. Lugalbanda smiled a little as he lit the sleeve of the man's robe. He waited as the man shrieked and flopped in the air before extinguishing the flames with a wave. Aside from his pride and his dignity, the diplomat was unharmed, but his beard was singed and his fine robe was burned and the man still hung in the air, very upset and covering his sooty nakedness with his hands. The air reeked for a moment of burned hair. Enmerkar sat ashen-faced. "I will now have to answer for the way that Hadanish's emissary was treated at the hands of one of my generals." Lugalbanda shook his head, "No. If Hadanish finds that he has issue with how this fool was treated by me, then let him come to me and face me for it and I will not bargain over his outrage. Alone, or by strength of arms, I will kill him, as must happen anyway, and you win this in any case." Enmerkar decided to play the fool, so he asked why Hadanish had to die. He was taken aback at the answer that he heard. "Because when two kings war over things that are of no consequence, they forget that both of their lands and the people in them suffer, and for what? In such a case, Enmerkar, at least one of them must die for it, if for nothing else than to prevent one fool from waging war so lightly again." "What is this about here? If Hadanish cared so much about the loss of the city of Uruk, then he would have already brought forth his host to engage yours. But he has done nothing of the kind. He sits in his palace and demands riches to be paid to him while he plays with himself and proclaims that a goddess ruts with him. The people of Uruk themselves care not, for they are happy with your rule over them, and anyway, to them it makes little difference from one ruler to the next as long as neither oppresses them too much." Lugalbanda's face showed his conviction for a moment as he continued, "If I go to war, Enmerkar, it is for a purpose which cannot be arrived at by any other means. I do not spend fighter's lives lightly, for I know who does most of the dying. I try to choose my battlefields to my advantage so that innocents are not caught in the middle, for I know who always suffers the most in war. I go to war to finish something so that something else might happen." "You desire to be king over all of Sumer. It is what must happen so that the people might grow together and move as a nation. Now, they move as they are commanded by many little kings, one group at odds with the other, while other nations look on and choose their moment to take everything. Even the Martu see this. To them, it is better that Sumer has one king. It is why they seek to help you." What he didn't say was that the Martu had no love of Enmerkar, but would follow Lugalbanda until he chose to rule Sumer himself. Seeking to change the subject and take it away from the next obvious truth, Enmerkar bumbled straight into another, different truth. "You said that you hold more than one high priestess. There can be but one High Priestess, general," he said, "I know enough about the cult to say this." "Aye," the general replied, growing tired of the game, "and that one you tried and failed to kill, Enmerkar. She lives still and has taken up her tasks. There can be only one living High Priestess, it is true. She and I have the favor and the help of the spirits of the nine before her. They are part of the ones who gave you Uruk and who will give you Khamazi as well – if you can but stop demanding what will be refused and bring yourself at last to the deed." "I have no fear of sorcerers," he repeated as he turned back to the emissary, "but I fear the way that this useless fool wastes the lives of everyone around him as he talks on and on about nothing that affects anyone while his king has already gained a year to prepare for the war that he knows will come to him regardless. All that it does is make the conquest longer and the lives of both peoples harder. War will come since you hold Uruk, and you knew this before you bade me to begin there. Each minute that this talking crow wastes may easily cost you the life of one of your fighters. Since I was one of them once, it chafes me to listen to how lightly you would trade for them." He turned to regard his king, "For long years I stood in awe of you and your abilities as a soldier. I did all that was commanded of me. I did whatever I could to learn of each situation and how you acted so that I might gain a little knowledge from it. When did you become what this one is? Is there something new here or can I begin what needs to be done? If I start now, the people of Khamazi will be able to plant one more crop of barley to help them get through the winter as they grow accustomed to your rule, my king. At the least, the amazing goddess will need to be in one bed less each night, since the king of Aratta makes the same boast as the rest of you." He raised his hand in what looked to be a beckoning gesture. Enmerkar glowered at his general for the jibe over the goddess, but felt the tightening in his chest from the witch's curse. The ambassador sputtered, "We have many storehouses full of grain, enough to tide the people over through at least five winters. You cannot lay a siege for that long. You act as though the outcome is already known. You do not know what you are talking about. You-" He stopped in mid-sentence as he stared along with the king and everyone else present at the sounds of horse's hooves coming toward them slowly along the paving stones, for there was nothing visible. The confused guards at the other end still stood at the doors and nothing had gotten past them. Lugalbanda released the emissary with a nod, and he fell to his knees on the floor. He pulled the man's beard to force him to look at what now approached them all. "The outcome is certain, crow. The city will fall. You have many storehouses now," the fighter said, "but once I begin this, they will all be burned before I touch the hovel of one farmer. The king's storehouses will burn first of all and then my fighters will help the people to keep their own grain out of the greedy hands of their grasping – and starving - king. The amazing goddess will do nothing. Please decide now what you wish, my lord king. I will lay no siege." The king stared at the general, "I do not have the troops in place to begin now. It will take-" Lugalbanda smiled coldy, "Then you should have begun when we first spoke of it as I advised. While you talked of who sleeps with the goddess, I have been busy preparing for your war, for I knew that it would have to happen before you go to war with Aratta – which must also happen if you wish to proclaim yourself as king over all of Sumer as you said to me." "You had better prepare as soon as you can and march your troops under the banner of another general, but when he arrives he will do as I tell him or you lose those troops just as this fool here loses his fine home in Khamazi in a few days. You are not the only lord here, my King. I have my own troops, and as at Uruk, you will have help that you have not thought to look for. The Martu tribes will stand by your banner and do most of the hard work of this unless one thing happens." He glared at the king in warning. "If your general seeks to harm even one Martu, the tribes will change sides faster than you can draw breath, and I with them, so tell whatever old fool general you wish to send how close he stands to the lion's den. All that I need from you is whether you still wish for the city to be standing when you arrive. I am long past tired of waiting. I will wait no longer for your leave to begin now." He bowed in the direction of the sounds as they stopped before him. The horse and rider became a barely visible apparition before them all and many of the people scattered. After a snort from the horse, they became quite solid, and the king stared at the smiling face of the woman who had offered herself to help find the temple's treasures at Ninab. "So good to see you again," she said politely, "I am one of the nine. Your general's patience is at an end, "she smiled, "Take only a little longer to act, and I foresee that he will take the cities arrayed against you for himself and you will wonder what you are the king of." Lugalbanda smiled and gave the specter a short request in the Martu language and she turned away with a warm smile for him and rode off. Before she reached the doors at the end of the hall, she was gone. The guards posted at the doors began to relax slowly as they looked around for the rider. The general turned back to them, "I have begun it just now with my command. There is no point in talking with this idiot any longer, for there soon will be no King Hadanish, or even a city for you to conquer if you cannot rise out of your chair shortly. The sorcerer, I will deal with if I find him. If you cannot bring yourself to act, the city will be destroyed and you lose all that you have wasted a year of my time over while you haggled. Sumer needs a king. In me, you hold a mighty sword, but I am not yours to own. Think on this before you call to me again." "Do not wait to send your army, Enmerkar, and do not think to attack me. If you are too long in coming, I will raze Khamazi to the ground when I grow tired of waiting. After that, you will find yourself fighting a war within your own country that you cannot afford. If that comes to pass, the king of Aratta will show himself to be the wiser and will attack your long open flank while you try to put out the flames in your own house. He would do this only to prove the lie that he sleeps with the same goddess every night that you lie about. If you had been paying attention, you would know that he has already crowned himself once more in her name and now builds a great temple to her." He bowed and walked off. The guards at the end of the hall hesitated and then reached for their daggers. Lugalbanda drew his sword and left them both dead in his wake. A few moments later, he was on his horse, riding hard in the company of the Fox and the Wolf toward the horizon at the head of a huge cloud of dust. Enmerkar called to his guards who came running up the slope. He pointed to the ambassador and all of the dignitaries who had heard everything. He included the ones who worked for him. "Kill them," he said quietly. He stood up and strode away for his meal, furious now at his general. -------------------------- There were about a thousand people in the little communities of hovels scattered here and there on the plain near to Khamazi. They were the farmers whose sweat fed the city's inhabitants. Over the next week, these people had visitors as they sat by their fires in the night. Things were told to them plainly – that there was war coming to the area and why – that only the city was wanted, but that soldiers from the city would soon be sent to force them to give up their stocks of grain. This grain was the mouse's share after most of what they'd grown had already been given over to the king's granaries. They were told also that they would be protected as much as was possible, by another people who wanted to kill the soldiers and not the peasants, for it would weaken the king. They were told that once it was begun, their own king would lock the city gates against them – his own subjects, but that the gates would be unlocked again afterward and the farmers could have the city for themselves if they wished for a while. What it would cost them was whatever was growing in the fields at the time, so they were told to harvest as early as possible since at least some would be burned. Here and there, an overseer thought to make for the city to warn the soldiers, but no warnings were ever passed since the overseers never reached the gates. It began as a field on fire. The smoke from the blaze was noted from the city wall and soon after, a dozen crying women appeared at the gates, saying that their men had been killed by some attackers who had burned their fields. A patrol of troops was sent to investigate. The women were let into the gate, but disappeared into the normal crowds in the streets soon after. The troops never returned. That night, ten of the king's granaries were set ablaze. While three of the fires were put out, seven were consumed and even out of the three, much of the grain was ruined due to the water that had been slung on it to keep it from igniting. The next night there were guards posted to watch the remaining granaries. The guards were killed and ten more granaries burned. More armed guards were posted the next day, but that evening, strange riders were seen entering the city. No one believed the reports since the riders were said to have entered through the city wall itself in different places. Tales began to circulate about ghosts on horseback, and even these were not given much credence until the granary guards came running to tell of the riders near to the granaries. The sky over the city was lit by the many fires as over forty storehouses blazed. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 06 A small group of travelers stopped on the top of a large hill overlooking the plain. The servants among them looked to one older man as he sat on his horse watching the fires burn in the city below. They wanted to know which way to go now, since it was clear that there was no returning to the opulent home in the city. He considered a moment and looked at the stars. "We go now to Aratta," he said, "I have a score to settle here, but first I need to prove that I can do what is wanted by the king there." The caravan turned then and they disappeared over the rise. By dawn, the last of the city's grain supply was either burned or ruined. In the flickering light of the flames of one of the fires, several beings cried out to be set free for they lived in a cage set into one wall of a large residence. The master of the house was away and the servants still in the home ran for their lives past some of the trapped ones who wept and begged for help. In the confusion, one person heard them and approached on horseback. A soldier from the city ran to block her path, not seeing her for what she was. Her sword flashed out and the soldier was dead in an instant but his dagger slid along the cobblestones until it rang against the bars of the cage. Instantly, several desperate hands reached for the blade. The rider stared at what she saw. One of the trapped ones pulled the dagger inside and, one after another, three of the hopeless creatures used it. Each one hesitated only a moment or two and then they cut their own throat arteries with it. Only one of the creatures remained weeping near to the end away from the approaching inferno. In a very short time, the flames had gotten close enough to where the dagger lay that the last one's chance at suicide was beyond her grasp from the heat. The rider saw a thin form on the outside of the bars reaching out to the one inside. As she nudged her horse a little closer, the one outside turned and she saw the visceral fear in that young face, but he remained where he was and wouldn't leave the last creature. The one inside looked up and snarled, drawing herself up in a defensive posture. The rider stopped and whistled shrilly in a peculiar manner and in a few moments, two of the priestess' guards were beside her looking up. She explained what she'd seen and pointed. One of the women approached the boy and spoke to him in their tongue. He nodded and it was clear that he was one of the Martu who lived in the city. The rider was joined by several more and, long past being bothered by heat or flames, they passed ropes through the bars. Both of the priestess' guards had to drag the boy away from the cage and the riders pulled the bars out of the masonry. The wall of bars crashed to the ground, and for just a second, the thing inside stared at her freedom. She was out of the cage and gone into the night within the span of an eye blink. The boy cried out then and held his face in his hands as he wept. He was overcome with relief that she was free, but he now felt lost. The first rider held out her hand and the hot dagger rose up and drifted smoking to her in the air. She turned her horse and slowly approached the young man. "Take this," she said, smiling as she held out the dagger by the blade, "You may have need of it to protect her if she returns to you. It is not hot now. Go where the women lead you. I will try to give you other things with which to protect her in the case where you might have the chance of it. Good luck to you, friend. I hope to meet you again." The boy stared at the kind face for a second and then found enough courage to take the blade from the dead fingers with a shaky bow. The riders retrieved their ropes and melted away into the shadows as the two fighters led the young man away. It was several minutes before they could get anything out of him. "Who are you?" he sobbed. "Friends," they told him, "There are many Martu outside the walls this night. We take you to be safe now. What was that creature there?" It took a while, but they learned that the boy was a beggar, his family had been killed in the street by the city guard. He told them that he was nineteen and had been on his own for over four years. The home belonged to a sorcerer, and the creatures in the cage had all once been Martu girls, caught by the city guard and brought to the sorcerer. He'd turned them into various cat-like things for the amusement of the townspeople. The one who had escaped was the most recent prisoner. He told them of how he'd always tried to get enough small coins to be able to feed the creatures late at night, since the keepers often forgot once they'd gotten drunk. One of the women stopped him at that point. "Tell it all to us," she said, "we see that there is more than this between you. Did you know the dark one before?" "No," he said, still sobbing a little, "I saw her there one night as I came to feed them all. It has been maybe a year. I am so happy now that she is free, but I am afraid for her. I – I... " He looked down, as though he was ashamed to go on. The fighter hugged him, joined quickly by the other one, "Tell it all, little brother," one of them said, "Look," she pointed around them, "the sky is on fire this night from what we do. There may soon be armies crashing together here. This will not be a safe place for one such as you to be soon. Wherever your friend is, she is better off now, and who knows? We will tell of what we know and all the Martu will look for her. Maybe you can see her again, but tell it all now." He heaved a sob and let it out. "I – I love her. She can still speak and we spent the nights only holding hands while we both cried. I always listened to her, but I had to run away if someone came, or they would kill me and then no one would feed them." He looked down, "Usually, they taunted the poor women in there or threw stones at them, and I could do nothing but watch from the shadows. If I had a dagger like this then, I would have killed the cruel ones myself, but I could not buy a blade and buy their food as well." "She is close by," the other fighter whispered, "I have seen her jump from one roof to the next as we walk. Come. Walk with us quickly so that we may lead her out too." They stopped to look around before crossing the almost-deserted market square. "Look only once, little brother," one of them said quietly, "she sits now on a rooftop to the side of us watching. Look up and beckon her to follow." He did as she said, and they could see the relief flooding through him only to see her, but it was replaced with worry again in an instant as she leapt off the roof with a snarl just as she tore a soldier apart who had raised a bow behind them. It was over in an instant, and then she was gone again, leaping onto a cart and from there to the roofs again. One of the women chuckled, "I now wish her well even more. She has uses for us even now. If we can get you both out, I would thank her for that. We did not mark that bowman, but your pretty friend there did." When they reached the gates, they found about fifteen of the riders there, one of them the one who had helped first. The fighters quickly explained what they'd learned and what had happened. The rider nodded, "We will force the gates open in a moment. Get the boy into the back of the cart there under the covering. Try to get the other one to join him if you can, but I think that she will not want to do this. I worry for what will happen if the horse sees her. She fears what we are, and the horse will fear her as well as us. At the least, I hope that she will somehow follow us out, for we cannot hold the gates open long. It is not what your Ba'al or my daughter want this night. Show me a sign when you are ready." They explained it to the youth. "I am thankful," he said, "but what of the archers who stand on the wall? Will we even have a chance?" "It is a risk," one of the fighters told him, "but our dead friends here will give us the best chance that they can. I will be driving the cart, little brother, so I can attract some arrows for you too," she grinned as she slapped his shoulder. He climbed up into the back of the wagon and tried to get the dark creature to come to him. It looked as though she couldn't or wouldn't do it, if she even understood what was wanted. The two fighters conferred for a moment. "Tell me why I must be the one who runs alongside," one of them asked the other. "Because we need to hem her in and keep her close by if she follows and I cannot run as quickly or as far as you - and you cannot drive a cart to save your life," the other one grinned. "You remember the last time that you tried. Only the horse had the sense to keep from running into a tree." "True," the first one said, "but there were flies buzzing around my head that day." "Aye," her friend said, "and there will be arrows buzzing around our ears tonight, so I will drive." "We can wait no longer, little brother," the one driving said and she nodded to the riders. Five of them rode right through the gate and took up positions about twenty yards out facing the wall. The rain of arrows began instantly. Nisi-ini-su's mother stood in the stirrups as several arrows passed through her and she spoke in a loud voice. The other joined in the chant and the top of the wall flared into a ribbon of flame. Many archers jumped to their deaths, most already on fire. The gates were pushed open and the cart raced out of the city and onto the road with two riders and the other fighter running on foot alongside. Once in the clear, they allowed more space between them, the runner out about sixty feet and the riders out about two hundred, well off the road. The boy held up the edge of the cart cover and peered out praying that his friend would follow. He saw her land in the middle of the passageway and look out at him, but she didn't move. He called and beckoned to her, begging her to come to him, but the gates had already begun to swing shut. At the last possible second, a dark blur flashed out through the gates just before they slammed shut and it tore for the cover of the long grass. Her friend watched her with his heart in his throat, worried that an archer somewhere might get a lucky shot now. It almost happened twice as the riders put out the flames on the wall and the braver ones among the archers ran to take up their positions again. Two arrows struck the cart before the dead high priestess saw it and pulled all of the archers on the center section over the wall with a wave. The driver of the cart stared at the arrow on the bench next to her and the boy ducked as another tore through the cover to land near to his hand. Any remaining archers didn't know what the dark shape was, but since it ran after them, they shot at it as well. The young man's name was Illya. Normally, he was was quiet, shy, and always polite. He'd grown up to be just a little tall, but he wore the leanness of a man who was always hungry. He'd been born poorer than dirt and had learned long ago that his life was not one where he could expect much more than a little mild good luck such as finding the odd copper coin on the street, and that was at best. Much more often, his life had taught him that if his cup was half-full, it only contained someone else's urine. He'd do anything that he needed to in order to survive, but he drew the line at robbery, murder, or theft from another unfortunate soul. Sometimes he was lucky enough to find a bit of work, but it was such a rare thing that he made sure to say his thanks when he prayed at night, for he was still young enough to believe in the things that his mother had taught him. But his time doing his best to care for the poor creatures in the cage had brought out a few changes in him. In that one poor girl, he'd developed a hope that should have never pushed up a tendril out of the dust and dirt of the bleak streets of Khamazi, but it pushed up nonetheless. They both knew the only possible outcome though it was never spoken of between them. She would eventually stop eating and starve herself to death. It was what they all did after a while. The only way out of that cage was to be a dead carcass thrown onto the refuse heap of Khamazi. She would have already begun it were it not for him coming to her every night without fail to talk and hold her thin pawed hand through the bars. He hadn't even known it himself, but something else had begun to spring out of the dirt – a part of the tenril of hope. It was the beginnings of his desire to offer her the only other thing that he had to give her. His heart was being dragged out of the dust. Right now, the poor heart of the former street urchin was beating hard out of fear for the one that he cared for so hopelessly. That little machine in his chest began to work even harder now, because young Illya had taken just about all that he could stand. He pulled his hand back from where the arrow had struck, and it came down on something else in the back of the cart there with him. His eyes opened wide in surprise as he felt what lay there with disbelief. He threw back the cover and stared. He didn't know how it could have happened, or who it belonged to, but he found a war bow next to him and a quiver full of arrows. Illya had never held something like this – but he'd seen one used often enough. He began to mutter to himself as he tried to nock an arrow. He looked up at the archers on the sections of the wall that the riders hadn't cleared. They were just getting down to their deadly business, so he thought that he'd better get down to a little of his own. He had a hope that with luck, he might force a few of them to miss more often. His first shot reached the wall, well to the left of where he'd aimed. His next one caused an archer to fall. Illya was elated, but it hadn't been the one that he'd aimed at. But Illya was a bright young lad, he thought about it quickly and made his correction. The driver of the cart began to hear strange cursing behind her as he muttered and swore. She spun around on the bench and stared for a moment. The boy was driven, furious now and though he didn't know it, she could see that he was riding his fury perfectly. The only odd thing was that she knew it whenever he loosed an arrow, because the effort of the draw and the concentration caused him to emphasize his words at that point. "I have never had a CHANCE ... " "to have even ONE thing for myself." " You .... BASTards live a good life!" "You're JUST the same as me, but you're fatter because you get to EAT." "You come from better families and you are SuMERian" " ... and so you get the work... YOU get the food given to you while better people go withOUT." "By the NINE flaming dark hells..." "and the GODforsaken desert,..." "I will TEACH you to keep ... " "your squinting little pig's eyes DOWN now." He growled through his teeth, shooting one arrow after another as the driver and the runner both stared at him while he stood in the back of the cart drawing back that bow. They couldn't believe what they were looking at. His arrows were causing the archers on the wall and the rooftops to flinch and best of all, his shots were telling. He'd already hit six of the bowmen. The bouncing cart and the poor light didn't matter a bit, for Illya was angry now and he didn't care about anything anymore. "You do well, little brother!" the runner called to him, "Just stay angry, you handsome thing. I love a man when he is angry!" The men on one rooftop called to one of their own and a large archer stood up and lifted his heavy bow. Illya saw the motion and swung his point of aim that way, He hesitated for just a second as he drew a breath and swore the air blue with an oath under his breath. As lucky as he might be, the one on the wall was a marksman. It was written all over him. His young voice rose a little and cracked with his rage and desperation as he sent one arrow after another that way, "You will leave us a-LONE!" he howled at them. You will NOT hurt her!" One man fell next to the large archer and he ducked slightly as another of Illya's arrows caused the one on the other side of him to clutch at the arrow in his shoulder. He turned his bow to aim at Illya now. Illya turned to the driver and said, "Please, stop the cart and get as low as you can for one moment." The driver pulled back on the reins and ducked, hoping that neither the angry young man or the horse were hit. Illya knew several things. His target was well-lit by the light of the flames in the city being reflected from the clouds of smoke above. He also knew that from the view of the men on the wall, the cart was in darkness now and the archers were shooting along the line of the road, which had just turned slightly. He stood thinking and hoping and praying fervently now because he knew one thing more. By the way that they cheered him when he'd stepped forward and by his stance, the man on the wall was a very good bowman and seldom missed. His friend in the grass was in more danger from this one than all of the rest of them put together. Illya didn't flinch as he heard the arrows whip past him. He drew a deep breath, raised his bow and said one more short prayer because of the last thing that he knew. He was down to his last arrow. The wild creature saw him for a brief second as she ran. The sight caused her to slow to a stop in spite of the danger of the arrows which were sent her way by hopeful archers who could see little of her and were only trying to hit her by luck now. She stood and stared at him, barely lit this far from the burning city. When he lifted the bow and began to draw it back, she could see much more to him than a poor beggar. She knew that there had been some who had laughed at him once. She didn't know where those ones were now but she supposed that wherever they were, they were not laughing this night, not with their comfortable lives in flames. She wished that they could see what she was looking at now. She doubted that laughter would come into it at all. He was not much used to pulling back a war bow, but he did it anyway and she saw muscle groups spring up out of his leanness and for just an instant, she saw his back as it rippled and strained to hold the draw. She could feel the heat of him from where she stood and the way that he held his jaw spoke volumes to her. She knew that they all gambled this night, and she knew a little of what hung in the balance. If she could have stopped time, she'd have given in to what she felt and held him to her and never let him go. "By the faith," he snarled as he drew a tight bead on the huge bowman and pulled back the bow for the long shot until the bowstring kissed his lips, "my name is ILLYA, and now I WILL KILL ME SOMETHING!" The bowstring hummed to itself as the arrow left it. Illya didn't dare to breathe as he willed the arrow that he couldn't see to fly fast and hit hard where he'd sent it. He thought that he heard the slap of an impact. A second later, the man's shot flew wildly as his fingers grew suddenly slack. For just an instant, everyone – those near to him, those others cheering now that he had joined the fight, the two fighters there with Illya, and even the dead riders – they all fell silent as they saw the boy's arrow buried deep in the archer's ribs under the arm that held the heavy bow, more than halfway to the feathers of the fletching, and right through his heart. He tottered and fell over the wall. The two fighters recovered first, yelling and cheering. They called out their saucy taunts to the men on the wall and praised Illya widly. They knew that it had to be a lucky shot, but it couldn't have been better placed. They were at the edge of the effective range of the rest of the city bowmen. Nothing came their way now. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 06 "You are the most fearsome bowman that I think I have ever seen save only one, little brother," the driver crowed, "Only our Ba'al could have made that shot!" Illya was a little embarrassed now, his shyness returning. "It was only luck," he smiled humbly, "and it was my last arrow." The muscles of his arms and his back were telling him things now. "I care not," the driver laughed, "Do not come near to me for a while, "she chuckled, "for I might kiss you to death. Where did you learn to shoot like that?" "I have never shot before," he said quietly, "it was all blind luck." There were blisters on the fingers of his right hand, and the skin on the inside of his left forearm was raw and bloody from the scrape of the bowstring. He might have known what to do with a war bow, but he didn't know what archers did to protect themselves from these things. The driver urged the horse to pull again. "Blind luck I can understand, little brother. It is the only way that a man can get between my legs to fuck me without dying for it," she laughed, "that, and a lot of drink, but you have some skill to have shot like that, my friend. I cannot wait to tell the Ba'al that he now faces competition. He will want to know of what you did here." She did her best to imitate him. "My name is Illya, and now I will kill me something," she chuckled, shaking her head with a grin as she remembered his words. "Well, Illya the fearsome archer, you have at least two girls here who grow to love you. I think now that the third one might have good fortune if we get through." She laughed again as she thought of it. "You could walk up to the gate back there now with that bow and they would open it for you. Surely none would dare to even raise his bow at the sight of you." Out of the light of the fires and in the safety of the darkness a third of a mile from the gates, the driver turned to the boy as she slowed to a walking pace. "Call to her now, Illya, "she said, "Try to get her to come to you. We will pass through the Martu lines in a few minutes, and they will not know what it is that follows us. They may try to kill her thinking to protect us!" The wild one didn't really know what to think. All that she knew was that she wanted to be near to the boy who had become everything to her. She ranged a little from side to side and found the runner off to her right. She couldn't understand it, but she did perceive that they seemed to want to help her friend. She ranged in the other direction and found the cart with the cover thrown back and her friend there calling to her. He sounded a little desperate, she thought. "Yanna!" he called out, "Yanna, come to me. Ride here with me. They take us somewhere safe, Yanna." She was startled when she heard the runner call to her as well. "Yanna, go to him now. Go to your friend there. We know about you, but the fighters that we will pass through do not. Go to Illya." Yanna noticed that she was being squeezed a little, the runner coming a little left so as to give her less room. Then she saw the runner sprint ahead and disappear into the weeds. Yanna slowed. She sensed something here. Another few seconds and she crouched to spring at the runner who stood bent down and straining for breath. They looked at each other for a few seconds. "Yanna," the woman wheezed looking right into her eyes, "for the love of the gods, go to your boy.... We have gotten... you both out of the city and he has saved you from an arrow through the gut, but it.., will get harder soon... Just go to Illya and be safe... I wear too much armor for this... I cannot ... do this for much longer Yanna. I can run far, but not at this pace wearing armor. Please...go to Illya." Yanna allowed a quiet rumble to leave her throat and she turned to lope to the cart. The runner grinned and ran to follow. Illya stared as he saw the eyes there in the dark behind him. "Yanna! Please, jump in with me." he whispered. "Stop the damned cart," the runner gasped to the driver, "or if I live through this, it is over between us. I will find me an easier girl to catch than you." The driver reined back the horse with a laugh. "I have no choice then, do I?" "Quickly, Yanna," the runner smiled as she walked up, "get into the cart and under the cover with him before the poor horse here smells something amiss and we all have to walk." The young man jumped down and ran to her. Yanna stood up on her legs slowly and the two fighters stared for a moment in the darkness and then smiled. "Here," the runner said, taking off her cloak to hold it out, "give her this so that she has something to wear." The runner gave the cloak to the youth. He helped Yanna into it and then pulled her by one pawed hand toward the cart. He was begging her now, but she looked at them all and smiled just a little. "Why?" "So that you might feel a little better and try to trust us," the runner grinned, "also, you made a friend in me when you killed the archer in the square. If he had gotten his shot off, I would not need my cloak now either. Thank you for that, Yanna." "I thank you for what you did, but ... it is cold for you here," the creature said. "I have my lazy friend there to keep me warm," the fighter laughed, pointing to the driver. Yanna looked at the runner for an instant before nodding once and then she climbed up beside Illya. He wasted no time pulling the cover over them both. Yanna found herself in his arms as they both wept. She reached over him and pulled him close as she licked his face. She stopped suddenly when she noticed him kissing her. "Why, Illya? Why do you do this?" "Because I love you Yanna," he smiled at her in the darkness. Yanna was astounded. Her days and nights in the cage had been absolute misery. Illya had been the only bright spot that she'd had, but she'd never once had a thought that he might feel anything like love for her because of what she'd been turned into. She'd thought that he was only being kind and she was thankful for only that. She'd never even allowed her thoughts to go to the possibility of something between them other than dreaming of what might have been once when she was human and she'd never told anyone of her life as a woman. That might lead her to hope and she'd never believed that there was any of that to be had anymore. It felt like a story about someone else, but what did that mean? What could it mean to someone like her? "How can you love one such as I am?" "Stop, Yanna," he grinned as he ran his fingers over her ear and through her long black mane for a moment, "I only know what I know and I cannot help what my heart tells me. I have loved you for months and now I can hold you but one thing at a time, Yanna. I do not know what will happen next, but these fearsome women here are Martu, as were the dead ones. Did you not hear which tongue they speak to us? Just be happy that we still live and give me a chance when we are free. I will show you then." Yanna couldn't fathom it. Illya was promising to love her while she struggled with what her freedom might mean. She couldn't even let herself be seen, yet he loved her? He kissed her again and before she knew it, she felt his tongue against hers and was happy to forget about everything else for the moment. The runner found herself limping now that she'd stopped again for a minute and climbed up next to her lover. The horse wasn't pleased at the new load, but they were moving again after a moment. "The things that I do for you," the runner said, rolling her eyes, "I should have been sitting next to you and riding long before this – " she felt with her hand beside her in the darkness, "What is this here?" "That is the arrow," the other one chuckled. "What arrow?" "The arrow that would have speared your lovely backside to the bench here if I had let you ride sooner," her friend laughed, "I have been trying not to weep." "Why?" the runner asked as she pulled it out and set it aside for Illya, "Is it because the thought of me being hit makes you sad? I was not hit, was I?" "True," the driver laughed, "It would have been such a shame to see your pretty ass marked so cruelly, but also, I laugh myself to tears thinking of you begging me to pull it out." "I will put other tears on your face for that, "the runner smirked, "You have to sleep sometime." "Oh, be still," the driver scolded, as she put her cloak around the other one and held her close so that the sweat from her running didn't chill her, "I am happy that you were not hit." "Quiet now, "her friend hissed, "do you hear that? What is that?" The one driving smiled, "Hear it? I can feel it right through the seat. It is Yanna there behind us. She purrs now." "Ah, "the other one nodded in understanding as her eyebrows rose. --------------------- The dead riders came to them a few minutes later. "The lines are just ahead," one of them said, "We have gone forward and told of your approach. We go back now to the city." The fighters thanked them and were found by Martu pickets a few minutes later and guided into the camp. Twenty minutes later, the two fighters helped the fugitives out of the cart and stood close by them to shield Yanna from any prying eyes. "Where do we go now?" she asked nervously. "The one on the horse who called to us and helped you," one of them began. "The dead woman," Illya said, as he picked up the bow. "Aye," the fighter said, "she was the High Priestess not long ago while she lived. Her daughter is here. She is High Priestess now. We two are part of her guards. We take you to her to see what may be done to help you both." "Can she undo what was done to me?" Yanna asked without much hope. "We know not," she said, "but if anyone can help, it is her." Inside the tent, they were met by Nisi-ini-su, Lugalbanda, and to their amazement, her dead mother. ------------------- Yanna's eyes opened wide as she listened to what had happened while she ran through the grass trying to dodge the arrows. "You can shoot, Illya! I never knew." He looked down, embarrassed again, "I never knew either. I was afraid for you and I was angry." Lugalbanda stepped forward and clasped Illya's forearm after the two fighters told the entire tale. "By telling your name you have raised your legend, friend. We need to talk and see what may be done to make it a mighty name among the Martu." They sat in the tent and the two young people were given all the food that they could want. Yanna wore her cloak. She looked down under her hood whenever someone came or went. "I can only think of one thing, Yanna," Nisi-ini-su said, "You both should go to Jebel Bishri after this fighting here. There are many wise ones there. I do not know what can be done yet, but you should think about preparing to live this way if it must be. You can stay at the keep and live there, it is a lovely place where you may learn anything that we know, but one thing..." She took Yanna's hand. "What was done to you can be rightly regarded as a curse – an unfair thing which you did not deserve. You might cry yourself to sleep in your despair if we cannot find a way to make this better. I am certain that you have done this for nights without end already, but I would say to you that even so, you are at least fortunate in one thing. Many go through their lives never finding anyone for themselves. Look at Illya. Look at what he has done for you, out of his kindness at first, and then out of his love for you. This night, he stood in the back of the cart and faced a master bowman because he feared that you would be hit. He did not care for himself, I am told, and many arrows went close by him so that he might hit the one man who could kill any of you easily." "I do not try to make him a great hero, and my words make him change color yet again now. But while you have a right to be unhappy, and no one can say nay, try to remember that you have one who cares very much." She was silent for a moment, and then Yanna turned to Illya. "I am ashamed at many things," she said sadly, "I do not want anyone to see me. I want to hide from everything and cry. If I was not so slow this night, I would have taken the dagger back there in the cage and followed the others. But now I am glad that I did not – at least for now." "I do not think that you ever knew me before this happened to me, but I knew of you, Illya. I did not know your name then, but I knew of you. I liked the way that you look, but I was like the rest of the girls that I knew. We are Martu, but my family's fortunes were better than most. I grew up with the things that my father's gold could buy – anything that I might have wanted, and I laughed at those who I thought were below me – people like you, Illya." He lowered his head, but she reached out and held his face so that she could say what she had to now. "I saw you often as you begged for small coins and I saw you as you worked to clean things that no one else would lower themselves to. I once watched you as you cleaned my father's stables. They had not been cleaned in a long while and I saw how you worked in the heat where no one wanted to be, for most could not hold their stomachs there. You could not either, at first. I watched as you heaved up the small meal that you had in you." "Now I know how hard it must have been to know that your stomach would ache without it. Now I know what it is to go long without food or to have to eat what others would throw away because there is nothing else to eat. I watched you there, covered in the foulest old horse dung as you worked for a few coppers the whole day and again the next until it was done. Even I was angry then when my father tried to cheat you. I was the reason that he came back to give you more – and still he cheated you a little." "I sat in my clean home and watched you work. I liked your face, and I liked your body. But I would have never touched you, dirty or not, because I thought that I was above you. I watched you walk away, knowing that you had to somehow wash before anyone would sell you any food, and yet you had to do it while making sure that no one stole the few coins that you worked so hard for. There were other times when I was among the girls who laughed at you and others like you. People like you who were below me, Illya. I missed knowing someone fine like you. Even so, you taught me much, though you knew nothing of it. It has been a hard lesson." Her voice broke and she held her face in her hands and wept. After a moment, Illya tried to comfort her, "Yanna, what happened to you is not your fault or because of what you thought of poor people." "I know that," she said, "but it makes it all the worse for me." She wiped her eyes. "Then I was caught by the city guard one night after curfew and they took me to the place where you found me. I woke the next day and found myself like this. Imagine how it felt to find that the only one in the whole city who now cared anything at all about me was the same poor boy who was laughed at so often. And in a little while, I knew exactly why that poor boy worked so hard to get a few coppers – so that he could give us all food where others threw stones and laughed. I often insisted that you share my food with me. Do you remember?" Illya nodded, afraid to say anything now. He was sure that he would cry in only a few more seconds. Yanna leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "I heard your stomach those nights and knew that you hadn't eaten yourself. My guess was that you couldn't get enough money to feed us and have something for yourself. I never told the others, but I remembered you and what you did to get a little money. I just didn't know then that it wasn't for yourself." "This night, you stayed when you should really have run. Who would have blamed you?" Yanna sighed with a small sob, "Do you know what one of these brave women said to me? She told me to go to my boy, in the cart where I would be safe." She looked down at his blistered fingers and the angry and bloody welt on his forearm. She bent down and kissed it softly. "My boy," she said with a soft smile, "I have my friend and his name is Illya. I do not deserve his kindness. He tries always to look after me. He feeds me, and he tries to protect me, even though I am strong and fast and I can kill a man easily as I did in the market square. You surprised me when you told me that you love me, Illya." She looked up and shook her head, "It is the crowning touch, isn't it? I treated you as though you were nothing and you tell me that you love me. I do not even love myself." She reached for him again, "But I will try first to want to live like this if nothing can be done. I will try to be a friend to you because that is what I should be. I do not know about love since I am this thing now, but I know that I like it when you hold me and I can forget about everything only from your kisses. But I am sorry that I did not know better about people. If I did, I could have had your friendship long ago. I could have helped you, when it might have done some good and I was a girl and not a ... cat." Lugalbanda smiled, "Yanna, I would say one thing here. I cannot know how you feel, but I can imagine it, I think. I can speak here as a man and tell you that to you, you feel ugly, and you are not what you want to be, but if you look into his eyes carefully, you might see how he feels. He doesn't know any more than you how it might work, only that he wants it to work. He does not know how you could walk down the road together, but he knows that he would do that if you wish it." He reached out and lifted her chin. "You are not ugly, and it is plain in Illya's eyes that you are wondrous to him – as you are. If he knew you before this happened, he would know that he could look all that he liked, but it would be far out of even his wishes to know you. Either way, he loves you, and anyone with eyes can see this." "For myself, I knew only that there was a sorcerer in that place there. Now I know more about him, and now that I know you, I am angry at the king here, for he must have known what was done to young women in his city. For that, he will pay. The sorcerer needs to be found and punished as well." --------------------- They were asked what sleeping arrangements they wished for. While Illya looked uncomfortable and mumbled about anything being more than enough for him, Yanna took his hand and told him that she wanted to be with him. He stared at her and she did her best to smile, but it turned into a bashful little grin. "You told me that you didn't know what would happen next to us," she said, "and I know as much now as you, but I want to be with you, Illya. We have no bars between us now. I want to just be together with my friend. I do not know what will happen between us, but I think that you need me and I know that I need you. So if you are willing, let us be friends outside of my cage. The Ba'al here said that he has ideas for us, and the Priestess says the same thing. I do not want to be away from you now." She turned to Nisi-ini-su. "If it is permitted that we sleep together, it is what I want." She looked at Illya and smiled very shyly, but forced herself to continue. "I begin to think that Illya and I belong together in a way, at least for now. We will see what the dawn brings." "I can tell you that the dawn will bring many strange things," the priestess said, "both here and at the city. There are some here who have heard some of your tale already and hope to meet you both. There are rumors of a brave young bowman, barely a man, who loves a cat-girl and cares not about anything else. I have been asked about a wild one who kills archers in the night to protect her man. These things fly in a place like this." Yanna thought about it and smiled a little, "If anyone asks of us, tell them that Illya is a mighty one who can face deadly archers in the evening and sleep with a wild cat-girl at night. It will add to his fame." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 06 The Priestess nodded with a grin, "Not so far off the truth of it, I think, but to finish it, I would say that the girl Yanna is a fearsome one as well, and each would do anything to protect the other. That will make a better legend." "Well, it is too flowery for me and him, I think," Yanna said, "I would be happy only to sleep with him and have no bars in the way. This is like a dream that I could never dare to have. If I wake still free in the morning and can hold him to me, it will be enough." Nisi-ini-su wished them a good night and left them at the tent that they were given for the night. Inside it, they found the rider who had found them first. "Illya," she smiled, "You did well with the bow that I left in the cart for you. Let us call it my gift to you." She pointed to some things in one corner of the tent. "There you will find a better dagger and a scabbard for it, and several full quivers of arrows for you. There are clean clothes for you both over there." "Why are you doing these things?" he asked, "I cannot give enough thanks, but I wonder. My life has never brought me so much fortune as this one night has." She shrugged, "Because sometimes things happen which should never happen in this garden. I heard what was said, Yanna. I wondered if you were made to be for each other at the outset, and I would say no. But now, I think that even if all of us together at Jebel Bishri could find a way to undo what was done to you, you would still feel as though you belonged to each other now. I can say that there is a greater chance that you will stay together than drift apart now. None of us want for you to remain as you are, Yanna, but if it cannot be changed, I can tell you now – even though it will make him turn red again – that Illya loves you truly and would have you always and think that he is the luckiest man alive for it." She laughed a little in a soft way, "You hate the way that you are. He hates it only because you do. Try a little test for me, children. You do not have to wait this long, but when you come to Jebel Bishri and you find a warm day for it, go to the orchards there with a meal to share. Watch the clouds roll in the sky for a time and then give him a chance to show you how he feels about how you look to him like this. You said that you liked his body. I hope that you still like it after you get there, for he will spend time with a weaponsmith there and after, you both will learn our ways and we will see what fortune may bring to you both then." She smiled, "He will get a little - stronger. It will be a good thing, I think, for when you see how he feels, you may find things about yourself that were never there before. If I am right, they will start from what has been inside you for a long time for him, but something will be added from the other nature that you carry. You may want to show him how you feel about him then. I can see a little into what will likely be, children, whether this is lifted from you or not, and when the cat-girl wants her boy ..." The warm and understanding grin on her kind face could make even a pair of confused and mismatched young friends smile along a little, despite their tiredness and the little question that both of them held deep inside. Neither one knew exactly how this would turn out – or even if anything should. It had been a hell of a day. "I leave you this lamp," she said, setting a small oil lamp down on a flat-topped stake near the corner, made for just such a purpose. She said her blessings to them, bowing to them on her way out. They looked at each other across the two feet of space between them. "I would think," Illya said very quietly, "that what the girl likely wants the most is not to be reminded of what it is that causes her to feel badly in the first place." Yanna smiled a little, "I know what she means to say. She does not say it directly, but I think that she tells me to try my freedom with you as I am before complaining about the loss of what I had as I was, and she brings loving into it as well. Only... I have never loved with a man. I was raped the night that I was caught." She smirked a little bitterly, "If there is one good thing about what I am now, I guess that I can say that I will never be forced again." She looked down and shook off the memories of that horrible night. The way that she felt now, she was beginning to think less about dying and more about living. Yanna supposed that was a good thing, and tried not to think about doing even the simplest things as she was. How could she walk in any place where there were people? What could she do to earn a living? Would she be chased and hounded? She supposed that the best that she could hope for would be to be shunned. At least she'd be left alone. She was tired of being laughed at and having people point at her or throw stones at her. Illya had done so much for her, but she wondered if there was anything possible for them. He would be shunned too if they were together. How much of that could Illya take before he'd had enough? She looked at Illya again. He wondered about it when he saw her tilt her head a little but said nothing. If she looked at him in what she guessed was the old way, before this had happened, she remembered liking him very much, though she didn't know him. Now, trying not to think of what had happened this evening, she still found him appealing in so many ways. Yanna tried carefully to sift out her gratitude for everything that he'd done for her over the time and just look at him objectively. She wanted to know something and set herself a hypothetical question. If she'd just met him – right here and now – without the background and the veneer of one's place in society, would she be interested? The answer made her smirk. "What are you smiling about?" Illya asked. Yanna put her pawed hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. She was a lot smaller than Illya, but standing on her legs alone brought her to his height exactly. "I smile at stupid questions. But I have at least one that I must have some answer to. Am I ... am I pretty to you, Illya?" "I guess that it must sound foolish, but, ... I think that a person knows at least a little about how they look to others. As I am, I do not. I think that I am ugly, but I have heard some say here that I am not. Now I know nothing anymore, so to you, Illya,... am I?" Illya smiled softly and was about to speak, but their two companions from their adventure earlier lifted the tent flap and bustled in. "For pity's sake, Yanna," one of them said, "that is no question to ask him now unless you wish for a place to hang a hat. The night grows cool and we go to the river now to bathe. Until you get to Jebel Bishri, we are your guards now, and as such, we can tell you that you both need to bathe. You are to come with us." As they walked along the rows of tents, the women introduced themselves. "It is a bit late after what we have shared earlier, but I am Smyrna," the one who had driven the cart said, "and the girl with the still-wondrous ass that was not pierced by an arrow in the dark is Daggat." "You are our guards?" Illya was astounded. "Call us your companions and guides," Daggat grinned, "Some of us here are from the fortress, but most here are of the tribes. There is much restlessness here this night. You are not used to this and we are to keep you out of trouble. But I can say that the tale of the mighty young archer and the cat-girl has grown its own legs and runs from fire-pit to tent in this place. All have heard that there is a wild girl in the camp who tore a man apart in a heartbeat and they know a little of the boy who faced the archers on the wall alone to keep his girl safe. You were not a pair before this night, but you are to the people hereabouts now. We love a good story," she beamed and nodded brightly. Smyrna pulled Yanna close and whispered, "From what I heard you say, I think that you need to know something, so I will tell it plainly. You do not need to hear more of how we all are sad over what was done to you, but I want you to know that many here who have seen only glimpses of you think that you are lovely as you are. Daggat and I are among them, Yanna. So do not worry about what your boy here thinks. To anyone with eyes, you need fear nothing about how you look to him. And that is surely what he is, Yanna – your boy. That you have his heart is shown plainly all over him." Yanna's eyes widened under her hood and Smyrna chuckled, "Oh yes, it is so. Once we get him clean, Illya will look even better – almost respectable," she grinned, "but I want you to know something, since to live as you have may have added much confusion to how you see things. I have many men friends, but I do not want a man in my bed. For that, I have my girl Daggat, and we have been together a long while now. But I think that if there was one who could test my conviction in a different situation – if I saw him shoot this night but Yanna and Daggat were never part of the tale or my life, it might be your man Illya. I say this to tell you that what matters is how you see him, but if you need to be told, others see him as fine. Did you mark it when he stood in the cart to shoot? Did you see him there?" Yanna nodded with a shy smile and the fighter grinned, "He was good to see like that, no? Daggat told me that she melted at the sight herself, so I think that you both are prizes to each other." At the river, the four bathed quickly and little was said. The water was barely warm and the night was too cool for much more, and they wanted no one to see them. There was just the barest sliver of a moon in the clouds and Illya felt his heart in his chest as he watched Yanna duck her head under the water to wash her hair. When she stood up and threw her mane back with her head, he felt something else stir. Yanna asked Illya to wash her back and he was confused. "Do I go only one way here?" She nodded, "I think so. I do not like my fur rubbed the other way. Is it a problem for you," she asked in a whisper, "my fur?" "No, Yanna," he smiled, "it should not be here, but it is and I like it on you." She glanced around quickly. She could see the others, but she knew that her eyes were well-suited to seeing in the dark, so they likely couldn't see her and Illya well at all. "If you like it so much, Illya, then please, go lower and wash my haunches for me too. I think that I want you to now." As he washed lower, she leaned down and stood on all fours in the water so that he could reach better. Illya knew that he wasn't going to get much time here, but he did his best, washing her quickly so that he might have the time to offer her a few gentle caresses as well. Yanna had to work at keeping herself from letting out the purr that she felt in her throat, but she gasped when she felt something else press against her for only a moment or two. Yanna knew what she wanted, but this was just not the place. She pulled herself away with difficulty and turned to him, placing her arms on his shoulders and pulling herself to him to give him a hug as she whispered. "Not here, Illya, but thank you for that. It told me much just then." "What?" he smiled. "That I am good enough for you to want," she smiled, "and that you and I can likely do it like that. Most of all, it told me in an instant that we have our own story between us. I guess that it is another wonder to me about you. I want you, Illya, not only like that, but I think that the ghost of the priestess was right about us. Suddenly, right then, I felt that I want to live and not die in my shame." She sniffled a little, "I want to love you, Illya, whether this can be undone or not. I missed my chance to be your girl while I was one. You want to love me no matter how I look. That is good enough for me." She kissed his nose, "I don't know what I am, but whatever it is, I am your girl now." She hugged him tightly and they kissed softly for a few minutes until Daggat hissed at them that they should hurry to get out. They lost Yanna in the darkness for a few moments on the shore, but as Illya searched, he felt the warmth of her tongue on his cold and chilled maleness and froze as her paws came up to hold his hips for a moment. She opened her mouth and carefully took in all that he had. She decided that it was enough when she felt him begin to grow and drew back then to kiss him there once. "Better?" she whispered. "Thank you for that, Yanna." He heard her quiet chuckle, "I do not know if it is right, what I did there, but I think that it must be since I want to do that a lot more now. You should go and put something on. I will not get lost, I was only hiding. But you should go while I try to dry off." He stepped away and then felt just a little of the spray when she shook herself. Yanna stood up and came to him. After a quick kiss, she pulled her cloak over her shoulders and put up the hood. Smyrna grabbed Illya's wrist and whispered quickly into his ear, "In your tent. Under the third quiver from the left, you will find the leather guards that you need to shoot without hurting yourself. These are from the Ba'al to you." Illya nodded, but she pulled him closer. "I was not finished what I was told to say. Under the leather guards, you will find gifts from Nisi-ini-su and the Ba'al together. Vials of scented oil and some finery for one who needs now to feel beautiful. The oils are from the priestess for her, and the other things are to you from them both so that you might help her to feel better. They know that you have little, but that if you had a way, you would likely buy things such as these for her yourself. There is one bracelet aside from the rest. She is to put it on you if she accepts. It is soon for this, but for a pair such as you, perhaps it is the right thing." Illya nodded and thanked her, but his words failed him right at that point. Smyrna grinned and nodded. "I want to ask something," Yanna whispered to Daggat as the women led them back to the tent, "I do not know much about loving a man. I think that I need to know now – or soon." Daggat leaned close as they walked, "On the one hand, it is as simple as can be, yet on the other, it is a lot to learn if you know little and seek to know in a hurry. If you speak about this night, then do not worry about it much, my friend. Anything that feels good is permitted. Hurting him is not. Simple, no? Killing him is right out," she giggled. "Try what you think might be good and do not worry if it isn't what he likes. Try something else then. Let him show you what he wants and you show him too. It is not supposed to be a contest or a battle – unless you are lying with Smyrna. Everything is a battle then." Daggat let out a small yelp, but when Yanna looked, Smyrna was still walking, though with a tiny smile on her face, and Daggat now walked rubbing her haunch. They found themselves alone in their tent. It was only moments before they had the bedding laid out. Yanna carefully moved the little oil lamp to a spot on the ground. By the weight of it, she knew that it would go out very soon. She stood up and took off her cloak. Illya looked at her for a long moment. In her structure, Yanna looked very much like a cheetah who now stood up – tall and lean. There were curves on her, but they seemed impossibly long, and yet they belonged and he felt his heart quicken. The difference was mostly her color. She had markings like a cheetah, but her fur and her skin were a dark, charcoal gray, just short of black. The stripes and markings were there, even on her face, but they were subdued. Looking up, he saw her breasts. They were just like the rest of her, not large, but still fitting the entire package perfectly. After a second, he couldn't imagine them looking as appealing as they did to him if they were any other size in either direction. He looked lower down, far down her tight belly and saw her mound there, very pronounced and it seemed to be waiting. His gaze narrowed down and he could see the swollen lips there, and just the barest hint of her little pearl glistening. She drew a breath and he stared as that pearl thickened and lengthened just a little. She smiled at him a little hopefully, "Well?" "If you still wish to ask me if I think that you are pretty," he smiled, "I could answer yes, but the question falls short and so does the answer. For the reason that you asked, I think that you are very pretty. But here and like this now, it is not the right word, and to say that you are beautiful also feels a little small to me." He grinned, "I can say that I have never seen a woman who looked better to me. I have seen women that I might have wished to know, but they never had a thought for one such as I am. Those ones now? I wouldn't have a thought for any of them, except for one." He turned and stepped to the corner of the tent. In a few seconds, he was back and Yanna's eyes widened as her mouth fell open. "Hold up your lovely hair, Yanna." She reached back and he held up the simple and elegant wire and bead necklace and fastened it. When he stepped away, her tears had begun, but he pretended not to notice. He took her hand and fastened the matching bracelet there before dropping to his knees to tie the anklet on the opposite ankle. "From the living priestess and the Ba'al," he said, "They are given to me so that I might have something to give to you to show how I feel and maybe tell you that whatever comes for us, you have me, Yanna." He held up the larger bracelet, and Yanna seized it and before he could think about it, she had it on his wrist, still open. "I think I know what is meant here," she said, holding his arm tightly, "First, tell me of the one woman that you saw and would have had a thought for. Perhaps I knew her. It would be interesting to know how close that one came to knowing such a fine man." He smiled, "She was thin and not tall," he said, "and her long hair was not like most Martu people. Her hair was black like the young priestess' hair. I always looked for her when I begged for coins, because she often came close by and she dropped coppers then. If she was with others, she wouldn't come close. But the others would see me and laugh. She never laughed, she turned away then." "Her father had a stable and his servant came to me one day and asked if I might want the work of cleaning it out, and of course, I needed the work, and so I did. The woman watched me from a dark room in the house for the whole time that I worked there, both days that it took." Illya smiled, looking down, as though he tried to remember. The truth of it was that it was something that he could never forget. "She did not know it, but there was a window to the garden behind her, and if I was careful, I could see her there for the window lit her a little as she sat in the shade there. She knew nothing of it, I am sure, but I knew that she liked me. I had to be very careful, but I did see her several times as she lifted her dress and pleasured herself while she watched me work." Yanna gasped, but Illya pretended that he didn't hear it. "It made the work a little more difficult for me, to be sure, and it was even worse when I heard her soft little cry once. I didn't know what to think, but when I crawled to my home late that night, I thought a long time about that one, and I think that I learned something." He looked up at Yanna's large cat's eyes regarding him, "I think I learned that as hard and thick as the walls around a poor man might be, the same walls hold the luckier people too. I think that girl really wanted to know me, but could not because of where we were in that place. She could come no closer to me than I could come to her. It made me sad. Not for myself, I was used to that, but for her." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 06 "After that, when she came by to drop her coppers, I found something very different. She looked me in my eyes for just an instant, and she made sure to place the coins in my hand so that she might touch me. She couldn't smile, and I could still only say my thanks, but it was as if we shared something. It wasn't much, but it gave me warm thoughts over many nights." He decided then that if there was something possible for them, then he had to tell her what he'd put together from her story earlier. It had been a shock to him. He prayed that it would not be too much of one for her. He looked down. "She was thin and not tall, this beautiful woman, more than a man like me could ever dream to hold," he said softly as he repeated it and looked up, "but, she was a beautiful woman then and free, and not a beautiful cat-girl who held my hand through the bars of her cage." Yanna had tears running down her face an instant later, "Did you know me in the cage there?" "I knew only that the one girl that I cared about was gone, "he said, "I didn't think that it might be you there in the cage. I was sad, and wondered where the girl might have gone, and one day, it just came to me that she must have found a man that she liked and that she could be seen with, so I wished her well in my prayers at night." "Maybe a month later, I saw how the dark cat-girl in the cage grew slowly worse and it began to break my heart for I cared for her from the first moment. Out of all of the ones that I had seen and looked after because no one else would, that one reached me deeper than any of them. It was a crime what was going on there, but the thought of that one giving up hurt so much worse." "So I tried to take more care of her. I worked harder to try to get her better food, and I tried hard to talk with her, so that she might not begin to starve herself. I do not know what I would have done then if that one had died, but no, I did not know that it was you. The next thing that I knew, I realized that I just loved you somehow, and it was as if I had no say in it. As much as you were a prisoner inside that cruel cage, I was one on the outside, bound to do whatever I could to keep you alive, because I needed you to be. It was impossible, Yanna, but I knew that I had to keep you alive." He looked at her, wondering if this changed anything between them. "Why did you say before that you laughed at me? I never saw you laugh." She shook her head, "I never laughed at you. My friends did often. I laughed at others before I saw you one day, and since that time, I thought about it and I never laughed at anyone again." She looked at the bracelet and then at his eyes. "I was in love with you then, when you were a beggar boy and I was a fine rich girl. It was a lusting woman's thing that I carried in my heart but my love was there too. It was a daydream, because daydreams do not have to live by any rules. To say the truth, I wanted you to see me. I only wanted for you to see me and maybe know that I cared for you. I wanted so much to take off my clothes and come to you with clean water so that I could wash you and then love you right there in the courtyard. To say the truth of it, I wanted to love with you and then we would go away where we could be together, not rich and not poor. But I didn't dare to do any of these things. I didn't even know how. But I knew that I wanted you. How was it with you?" He shrugged, "I was hopelessly in love, Yanna. But for me, hopeless is every day." She made her decision and snapped the bracelet closed on him. "Well I think the ghost was a little wrong when she said that we were not for each other at the outset. I now think that if anyone could be, then it is we two. All that has happened is that we are now where there are no walls, Illya, and I live in my fur." She looked up and smiled, "I think I know what is meant here with these things as I said. There are two questions that go with these gifts. I do not know if you know the custom of this, but I know it. This is to declare the love between two people. If it were the other way around, I know that I would ask you, so if you ask me to be yours, my answer is yes." She threw her arms around him and chuckled, "and even if that is not quite what you would ask, my answer is STILL yes!" His mouth fell open. "You – you say that you would be mine, Yanna?" She nodded, wiping a tear with her hand, "Yes, if you will be mine." "Look at me, Illya. I am some cat-thing now. Yet you love me and you show me that you want me. I was a fool once, but I am not anymore, and in my heart, I still lust for your touch. If there were no army camped here and it was only us two there in the river, I would have welcomed you and we would have begun between us right there in the water. Maybe I can be a girl again and maybe not. I don't think it is important anymore what I am. The man that I wanted so much loves me still. The girl that you wanted loves you. I am an animal on the outside, but you don't care. We are both poor now and I don't care a fig. So do we ask, or is it plain between us?" He smiled, "I do not think it can be any more plain, Yanna." She threw back her head and really laughed for the first time in a year. "Now I know that this really is all a dream, Illya. If I must wake from something like this, then I wish that it is only to die. Nothing can be as good as this." A few minutes later, she looked at him just a little differently as the oil lamp began to sputter. He'd given her the oils and she put a little on herself here and there as she knelt before him, enjoying the feel and the smell of the scented oil. Yanna stretched herself out on the bedding and Illya began to kiss her as he'd dreamed of doing for so long. He dragged his body gently along hers as he began to work his way down slowly until Yanna stopped him. "What are you doing, Illya? My tits are covered in fur like the rest of me." He looked up "Do you enjoy what I do here?" "Well yes," she said, "but-" "Then just enjoy it, Yanna. I am happy, and besides, it means that I must use my hands more, and when I get to here-" Yanna threw her head back and gasped as he squeezed one hard nipple with his thumb and forefinger and sucked the other one into his mouth a second after. He ran his free hand along her side and they both groaned. Eventually, he stared at that single lovely pearl as it shone for him in the failing light of the lamp. "Why did you gasp?" she asked, sitting up to lean on her elbow and watch him. He smirked, "It is just a stupid man's thought, and I am sorry now that I made a sound." "Well, I must know now," she smiled. "It is just ... I have not seen many of these here, but I am sure that this one is the most wondrous one possible. If you think about it, you might see why I feel stupid to say it." She reached for his head and tousled his hair, "Do not feel stupid, Illya. From you, it is high praise for me to hear it." It didn't take long after that for Yanna to give up her watching, though she did admit to herself that she'd enjoyed it. But now he was doing wondrous things to her with his tongue and his lips and there was just no way that she could watch anymore. She writhed a little onto her side and pulled up one leg to place it on his shoulder. When the first wave hit her, she threw back her head and only just held back the heavy feline wail with effort. She clutched Illya's head to her and caressed it with her thumbs as she shuddered. "I love you!" she hissed through her teeth near to the end of it. She apologized to him later for the sound of it, but he only laughed, "I love the sounds that you make, Yanna, every one." He kissed her and she tasted herself on his lips. "There is only one that I wish to be unchanged, but I do not think that it can be anymore. Your voice is a little deeper than it was when I cleaned out your father's stable. I would love to hear that same soft little cry once more." He found himself on his back suddenly as she pinned him down with her paw on his chest. "Well that is good, Illya," she purred as she licked his throat, mindful that her tongue was a lot rougher than his, "because I still can make that little sound, my beautiful one." She pulled her head up a little to begin sucking at his ear. "It has been my little secret for a year, but I made that sound most often when there was no one awake near to me in the cage." He hissed and his hands held her head as she carefully licked one of his nipples and then moved lower. She opened her mouth wide and he saw it as she lowered her teeth to his abdomen in her delight as she chewed on him so carefully. She moved herself around so that she faced him looking from between his legs. By the gods, she thought, what a lucky girl she was. She couldn't tell one of these things from another and didn't know what made one better than the rest, but she really liked what she was looking at. She moved herself a little so that she could help herself with her hand while she played. Her tongue flashed out and back, and Yanna was thrilled by his reaction. She'd only just thought of it and did it again. She chose different places on him to attack like this, and he writhed, but could do nothing because her pawed hand was on his stomach, holding him down. She didn't plan to let him up for a while now. "I didn't do it often," she growled as she thought back, "and it was mostly because I was always so unhappy, but I needed it sometimes and I couldn't help it." Her tongue moved forward and he raised his hips to follow along when she'd lifted his scrotum with it. It was easy, she thought, and so much fun to do. All that she needed was to curl her tongue in the middle under his sac and lift. The roughness would do the rest. Illya was helpless, but he was in heaven, once she'd done it three times and he'd gotten the idea. She reminded herself to go slower. She didn't want her rough tongue to hurt him, not Illya. "You would come and feed us and then we could talk, you and I, "she said, "but you would have to leave at some time, because you had to get up to get more money." Yanna sucked his balls into her mouth slowly, just because she wanted to. She let him know that his testicles were there between those long wicked teeth that he loved to feel on him. She let him go gently and on a whim, she slid her tongue lower, far lower and to her delight, she thought that he'd jump right off the ground. She decided to save that little idea for later and now moved to take him into her mouth. She stopped every now and then to squeeze it gently and then she began again. "When you were gone, and there was no one around, I would make sure that the others slept, and then, my Illya, then I would dream of you that day while I watched you with my dress pulled up high so that you could see if you wanted to as I played." He moaned and bucked feebly, but she had an idea that soon it would get more urgent for him. She didn't mind. She'd decided there on the river bank when she'd tasted him that this was something that she planned to do to him often. "Oh by the heavens, Illya, I wanted you to fuck me that day," she said dragging her lips on his manhood for a moment before she began to suck again. She stopped again after a few minutes. "I have ached for you to fuck me every single day since, but I was in the cage where I would die, wasn't I? There was no way out and one day I was going to give up. But I am free now Illya, and you are the biggest reason that I am still alive because you came to see me every day, even though there was no hope." She looked up and met his eyes. "Can you imagine how I feel? It has taken me most of this night to believe that it is no dream, and now I have you before me." She used her hand to help a little, since she now wanted to finish telling him what she had to say. "So I will finish you in a moment, Illya, and taste what you have here for me, and then we will lie for a time until you are ready again, and by then, Illya, the cat-girl will want her boy." The lamp sputtered out and Yanna chuckled, "But I promise you, my dear friend, that one day soon, you will see me just as I was that day, though I am a cat now, and I will play just for you. That is when I make that sound that you love, so I will be sure to make it for you and then we can fuck in the sunshine as often as we want to." Her statements had gotten to him and he began to moan and buck. Yanna was very inexperienced, but she made up for that with her desire and a lot of love. She finished Illya with her mouth and moaned as he came. When there was no more for her, she slid up and he felt himself being pulled to her tightly so that she could wrap herself around him as much as she could. She kissed his lips softly. "Was I good?" "I have never – Yanna that was ... like no one else has ever done for me." He felt her nod. "It is a start, "she chuckled, "so that you know that I love you." It didn't take very long for Illya to respond, especially once she began to rub her body against him as he had done earlier. If there was one thing that might be said about Yanna now, it was that once she was alone with Illya, she wasn't at all shy. Before they knew it, they were joined and racing to find what might be between them. Yanna gasped that she was afraid to make much noise, and Illya knew that she really needed to, so he pulled her head against him and encouraged her. In the time that they fucked only this one time tonight, Yanna felt her throat tighten three times – along with various other muscle groups. Each time, it was all that Illya could do to try to hold off his own orgasm for just a little longer. Yanna was having so much fun and he could feel so much of her passion that he wanted for her to feel her freedom and the pounding of his heart for just a little while longer. It wasn't much, he thought, but if Yanna wanted his heart, then it was hers. Yanna could feel his heart plainly as it beat against her chest, but at the same time, she could hear her own pulse pounding in her ears. She wondered if she'd made a mistake starting this. She was tired, and so she knew that Illya must be as well, but neither of them wanted to stop. They needed this now. Suddenly, she felt him swell inside her and somehow she knew that there was some meaning to this and tried to think and guess for a moment. Her guessing came to an end when she felt him grow as hard as a club, and she felt every detail on that wonderful piece of Illya. Her own crash was coming, she could feel the walls beginning to fall. Yanna whispered to him desperately and he pulled her head to his shoulder tightly as he told her what to do. When Yana's world began to shudder and shake, she clamped her mouth to his skin so that her noises might come out of her a little quieter through her nose. Even so, she yowled and shrieked, and was glad for his idea because she felt much better this way. She didn't mean to, and she certainly didn't intend it, but she bit him slightly. The coppery taste of his blood pushed her last wave through her and the small pain that he felt caused him to gush harder than he'd ever thought that he could into Yanna, but once it was done, they smiled at each other in the darkness. She apologized and licked the tiny wounds and he told her not to think about it, but to use his other shoulder the next time, if she felt that she had to. In the morning, Nisi-ini-su came with Smyrna and Daggat to take them to the morning meal. They asked quietly, and Yanna thought about things with a smirk. If they were going to have their legend, she thought, then it was as good a time as any to begin. She invited them in and they stood and stared. Illya was asleep on his back and Yanna purred softly as she nuzzled her face under his jaw. She'd done it this way on purpose. When they were there in front of her she raised her head to give them a very pleased and serene expression as she lay on her side with her leg over most of his tackle. She nudged Illya gently. His eyes opened and he smiled at her. "We have guests, my love" she told him, and he tilted his head backwards to regard them all upside down. The priestess grinned, but then cleared her throat looking down, "The morning meal," she said, "I leave your two friends outside so that you might dress. They will bring you where you need to go. The Ba'al asks that Illya brings his bow." After choosing some clothes to wear, Yanna walked with Illya into the large tent, but she wasn't shy this morning. She met and held any gaze that was directed to her as the leaders of the clans stared at them. After the meal, Lugalbanda invited Illya to shoot some targets with him to see where he might need a little help and Illya was happy to accept. The morning was a warm one and both men took off their singlets after a while. Until then, Yanna had stayed near to the priestess as she'd been introduced to many of the female chieftains and the wives of the other leaders. It often happened that she was asked some rather personal questions, but Nisi-ini-su usually steered Yanna's answer for her or sometimes, she smiled a little mischievously at Yanna and made up some wild tale in fun. The one that Yanna liked the most was that she was the last princess of a cat-people out of the dunes. Whispers flew through the people from one to the next as they stared at the marks on Illya. Besides the marks of her bite, there were deep scratches on his back that shocked even Yanna. She didn't remember doing that to him. "Did – did you bite him too? "Smyrna asked, a little too loudly. Mindful that many others hung on her words, Yanna nodded with a prideful look. "Yes. I did not hurt him much, and he is man enough to sleep with one like me, knowing what it would bring to him, since I am no meek little maid, am I?" She held up her hand and they could see the long claws which, just like a cheetah's, could only be retracted partially. She strained to keep a straight face for the way that she stretched the truth now. Then again, she thought, there was more than a little truth to it. "Illya loves me and I love him, but it grows a little ... rough between us sometimes." "I must know this, Yanna," Nisi-ini-su smiled, "besides maybe passion, is there some purpose for it among your people?" Yanna looked down and smiled for a moment. She didn't know if she could hold the illusion of her confidence for much longer, but she did her best. She looked over across the table at the priestess and knew that she'd asked the question for her own reasons, and one of them was for the legend of it. "Yes, there is a purpose, Nisi-ini-su. It is to hold him still while we love. I wear the marks of his teeth on me as well for the same reason and also there is another purpose..." she said as she looked around. "I did it to mark what is mine." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 07 **Man, this thing has grown legs. I started to write this as a prequel to The Witch's Want and it's gotten longer than I'd intended. I love to read the comments of readers and it's been mentioned to me that the tale of Yanna and Illya might stand alone by itself. I feel very honored. This is my 50th post/story/chapter/thing on Literotica. I feel as though I've just gotten started. 0_o ----------------- Yanna finally explained to the other guests what had happened to her in as dry a way as she could. She told the true version of the tale of her escape and what she knew of the others who had taken their own lives before the heat of the flames could reach them. "I know something of it," one woman said and all eyes turned to her. Shahbek was the leader of a small clan of assassins who traveled the sandy wastes picking up what work they could in the cities and towns of the greener places that bordered the wastes. The woman was dressed in trousers of some sort, and her tall leanness hinted at more of a masculine figure than she carried. Even so, there was not that much in the way of womanly curves there. Anything that could be seen of her body spoke to a sense of wiry muscles and a life lived fully, if not right on the hard edge of survival. She wore long over-robes that hid many of her secrets, most of them sharp-edged, and she wore a veil that hid most of her face, though the dark blue eyes that looked out told enough of her personality. "I knew such a one once," she said. "We were in Sippar to rob a magician's home. We had heard of - and seen - such treasures that the threat of his power was not enough to keep the thoughts from our minds. In the planning of it, we spent time learning what we could of the man and the home. I came to him pretending to be a merchant of fine rugs, and I offered to make one for him that would be the finest in the city. While I was there, I saw that he kept such a cage as you told of. There was only one creature in it, and she was as you have described. Unlike you, she was more of a lioness to my eyes, but like you, she was dark. The magician told me that the dark ones were the strongest and were the hardest ones to change." "As it happened, he was summoned away for a time by his servant, and I was left alone with her." Shahbek looked around the tent, "I have made no secret of it and I am certain that it is well-known that I enjoy lying with men or women on occasion. I have taken many lovers in my time, but I will say that in the time that I was alone with that creature, we felt something between us in one instant, and I soon forgot about all of the treasures in that home but one. I promised that I would return to free her." "I went back the next week, having learned that the man would be away, and I freed the creature in the middle of the night while the rest took what treasures they could." She smiled softly for a moment and looked up. "That lion-girl was the greatest love of my life before she died." The chieftain looked at Yanna and Illya, "I will tell what I know of what the man does and why, but I will not tell it all to everyone here. I can see how you love each other, and so I have words for you alone before I leave. You should prepare to find the limits of your courage," she said to Illya, "for she will need much from you, and you, cat-girl, you will weep more bitter tears before this is over -- if it even comes close to ending." What was discussed next related to the taking of the city. Plans were laid and roles were discussed before the group broke up. The ones who remained were the mysterious clan leader, Lugalbanda, Nisi-ini-su and the mismatched young pair. "I need to know," he said, "the purpose for what is done to these women. This one that you knew," he asked, "did you know what people she was from?" "Aye," Shahbek nodded grimly, "Martu like the rest of us. He does it to Martu girls because we are a people who have magic, and most of us have some ability, though in almost all, it is but small. That changes nothing, for it is still there, and it is what he seeks. Also, it suits his purpose to use Martu women because wherever we go in the cities of others, we are often looked down upon and the people care nothing if a Martu girl has been turned into a wild thing for them to stare at in a cage. He seeks to grow his power out of it and Martu girls give him the best chance." "What killed the one that you knew?" Nisi-ini-su asked. She drew a sad breath. "What killed my lover was a piece of knowledge, Priestess. We lived and loved together for years, her and I. But I learned one thing of it and I told her and it was the beginning of the end. I have wished for so long that I had held my tongue. I found her one morning dead. She had cut her own throat deeply in the night and killed herself." Yanna took a deep breath herself. "Chieftain, I have lived my horror for a long while. Now I have my man and I want to live more than anything -- even as what I am. I am sure that I can bear anything now but the loss of this one here," she said as she put her arm on Illya. The woman shook her head, "I believe that you likely cannot bear this, but much depends on your family. Did you ever see them again after you were changed? Did they look for you?" Yanna shook her head. "I wondered why for a long time. The city is not that large, and even I had heard of the cage where wild ones were kept so that people could see them, though I never went to look. Why?" The chieftain reached out and touched Yanna's black mane. "The answer is here, I think. Is there another one in your family with black hair? This sorcerer, he wants Martu girls, as I have said. Any Martu girl can give him some power, but the ones with black hair can be turned to the strongest of these creatures that he has made you and it gives him the most of their ability when he takes it from them soon after they die, for he cannot take it while they live. They all starve themselves and as soon as may be after that, he takes what he can of their ability. But black hair is uncommon among us, no?" Shahbek sighed, "That piece of filth must die, Priest," she said, looking at Lugalbanda, "this magician has caused so much heartache and death. If you have need of my help for this, I would gladly give it in memory of my own wild girl." She turned to the young archer, "Hold her tightly now, my young friend. If she still seeks to know, I will tell it, and then you must make her want to live even more than you might have already done." She looked at Yanna and the girl nodded, "Tell it." "Very well," she said. "Once he sees one that he wants, he learns what he can of her and her family. In a private moment, he approaches the father and begins to pour his poison into the man's ears. If the girl's father is stupid and prideful, the poison takes hold and soon, the girl is his." "He tells the father that there is only one way for a Martu to have black hair. It is not the only way, of course, and it might be the truth and then it might not be. He tells that the mother must have taken a lover and that the girl is not his daughter, but another man's. It goes easier if the girl is a little strong-minded and likes to see her friends late at night after curfew or if she argues sometimes with her father. It makes everything go easier and usually presents the best opportunity. The father takes the payment, and the town guard take their bribe and catch the girl when they have the chance of it. They have their fun with her most often, and then she is given to the sorcerer. If this is how it went with your father, then I can also tell you that your mother is likely dead by now, no matter what truth there was to the tale." "This is the thing that I learned. I sought this knowledge because my lover wanted to know about her family. When I told her what I knew, it began to crush her, and I have been in pain and guilt ever since." There was an angry hiss from Yanna. "My mother was dead before that, I am sure of it,"she said. "I knew that they fought, but I never listened much to it. I think that I might know why now. My father told me that my mother would run away to be with her lover and I never believed it for a moment. What is this of a payment?" The assassin shrugged, "Money to keep a secret eases much in the consciences of some and it provides for the guilt in both directions so that a man may not change his mind after and tell of it." Shahbek looked at the young woman trapped in a body that was both human and catlike, "You are not distressed and wounded by this?" the chieftain asked. "I think that I must grieve for my mother," Yanna said with quiet determination, "but before this, I need to know what happened to my father." "I think that you are a very brave and strong young woman," Shahbek said, "I am one who comes slowly to deciding about people, but to me, your heart shines." -------------------- Yanna wandered off to be alone with her thoughts. It didn't take her long to decide that she didn't like the company. Rather than think about how her own reflections could turn against her as had happened to the chieftain's lover, she decided to seek out the one who seemed to have enough determination for them both. She saw him standing on a low hill looking at the city. Yanna began to walk toward Illya, but then wondered if he was having his own doubts. She shook her head angrily and went to him. If her life had only one constant now -- one thing that couldn't be doubted, it had to be Illya. Illya knew that Yanna approached long before she reached him. He wasn't all that interested in the city. He was just thinking that his life now seemed so much better to him on the outside of it. He felt her arms on his shoulders as she stood behind him and rested her chin on her forearm. They were silent for a minute as they looked out over the place that had caused them so much misery. The wind whipped his long hair and her mane together. Depending on the fitful way that it blew, one or the other -- or both would feel the light lashing of it against their young faces. "I love you, Yanna," he said. His reward for it was her first sigh. She reached under his arms and hugged him tightly, and he listened to her second, deeper sigh. "Thank you, Illya," she said, "I was afraid from your look that you now had other thoughts about us." He half-turned his head and she saw his little smile. "I meant what was said, Beauty. You have me always." "I worried," she said, "not only for what was meant, but I find that I have no answer when I think of how we will manage together. I think on it, but I never find an answer." "I have no answer either, Yanna, but then the answer comes to me in a word. We will manage somehow. This must be harder for you because of everything, but for me, it is easy. When you have nothing, there is nothing to lose. What we have is each other, my friend, and that makes us richer for it." He turned around and they held each other for a long time. "And I am richer than any king," he smiled. "It is only hard when you try to think of something solid -- the exact way -- the plan that is needed." He kissed her. "I only need to know that I have you. With that, nothing seems impossible. Look at us, Yanna. How can we two love? And yet, we do, no? I knew that we could long ago. If they can make you a girl again, I would be as happy as I am now -- maybe even happier, only because it is what you want. But if they cannot undo this, do not worry about me. I fell in love twice; once with a girl that I could never have and once with the same girl over again. I love what is inside -- and outside, Yanna. You were wondrous to me before, and now you are the same, only different. I cannot say how, but I know that it matters not to me. I love you just the same." He held up his arm so that she could see the bracelet that she'd placed on him. "This says that I am yours. I can be happy either way that you look." He looked a little concerned as he studied her face. "But that it not the only worry that you have, is it?" She shook her head uncertainly. "There are two things, Illya. What about children? I have been this way for a year now. In that time, I have not had my time. I have not bled in the way of women as I did before. This is strange in itself. There are women who bleed only lightly when their time comes. I was not one of them, and the cramps were terrible for me. I do not miss that, but I think that I cannot give you children." She looked down, "And anyway, if I could, what would they be?" "Do not carry that as though it was a great weight, Yanna," he said, "we have only been free together as we are for a day. We have time to worry about it. That we could not have children is not something to bother ourselves over for a little while, surely. But there is another thing, I think." She nodded, "I may need for you to do something that I do not think I will be able to do." He smiled, seeking to reassure her. "These things that we wear are to say that we are together. Part of that is that each of us does for the other what they cannot do. If something is beyond you, Yanna, and you want it, I will do what you want if I can." He kissed her again and said "I would do anything for you, Yanna." She hugged him tightly and squeezed a pair of tears from her eyes as she whispered to him, "I love you so, Illya. Thank you." --------------------- In the city, the fires were mostly out, but it didn't take long for the people to clamor for grain. The king gave orders to open the outlying granaries which contained the farmer's share of the harvest. Columns of troops were assembled along with a long line of wagons. Once the last of these had left the city, the gates were locked. No one noticed while this went on, but one old woman made her way to a seldom-used and little-known old gate at the back of the town that once led to a now-filled refuse pit. It took a little quiet effort, but once she had the small gate open, forty-three women entered the city in groups of two or three. Before the first of the outlying granaries was reached by the troops and wagons, Martu warriors rode over the crests of the nearby hills to sit on their mounts and look down at the shocked troops. Until now, the soldiers thought that their main purpose in this was to provide a little threatening muscle in coercing any farmers who didn't like the idea of starvation. When they turned to look back at the city, they saw the way blocked by many more fighters. The city guards watched from the wall, along with King Hadanish. He called for his three thousand mounted troops to ride out, but as these reached the fight which had already begun, many more Martu arrived as well to close the trap completely. By the early evening, two hundred Martu lay dead and no city troops lived outside the walls. Between the thousands of fighters and the dead riders, there were no breathing Sumerians left outside, other than the farmers who had been left alone as had been promised to them. The watchers on the walls noted that the city dead were being loaded into the grain wagons and carted off. At first, there was speculation that the Martu planned to eat the dead, but soon their plan became apparent as the bodies were thrown onto heaps to be set alight -- upwind of the city, so that the stench would carry to the noses of the people trapped inside. ---------------- Before the pall of the pyres had really gotten started, there were some who sought to capitalize on the state of unease inside the walls. Some merchants now charged very steep prices indeed for even the usual staples that many families needed to feed themselves. When the ones who had held their prices were sold out, the crowds reluctantly came to the ones who wanted near to blood for their goods. One such merchant was making money hand over fist. The trick of it, he knew, was that one had to be aware of the timing. At some point, he knew that he would have to appear magnanimous and let the crowds take what they wanted from his stall before they got too desperate. It didn't matter much, he thought. He'd already made many times more than he normally would on even his best day. War was good for his business, he thought. Across the market square, a thin hooded figure looked at him for a long while. At last the figure turned to the one next to her with a nod. "It is him." The second figure made a sign with her hand, and the merchant was knocked into darkness with a club from behind. His purse full of coins fell to the ground and spilled everywhere. No one even looked at it. They wanted food. ---------------- In his bed chamber, King Hadanish found himself desperately waving his sword in a corner facing four armed women while eight kept watch and twenty more roamed the halls and killed anyone they saw. The floor was littered with the bodies of those he'd ordered to protect him. "He doesn't look like much, does he?" one said to another in a tongue that the king didn't understand. "No, and his little thing there looks to be lacking whatever hopefulness attracts the goddess to his dreams," the second said. "The dreams of a king are not so very different from that of any man, perhaps." "There is a difference," the third one said, "The dreams and wishes of most men end with a fistful of their seed. The dreams of this one likely end with his seed inside a slave. Perhaps his eyes are failing him and the one who takes his seed tells him that she is the goddess. It does not matter. He barters for gold as he strokes knowing that there will be a war from it. He cares nothing for the ones who fight or the poor people caught in it." One of the women sheathed her sword and produced a short straw. The four approached him and a second later, his fine sword fell to the floor with a clatter, knocked easily from his grasp by one who knew how to use a weapon. Another of them punched him lightly in the middle of his throat and when he inhaled after gagging, the woman with the straw blew the powder into his open mouth. The king lost consciousness within twelve seconds. Thirty minutes later, a cart trundled away from the small gate, and the forty-three women left with it in the gathering gloom. ----------------- In a single smallish tent in the middle of a sea of them, Yanna lay in the embrace of her lover. She didn't feel much like doing anything, lost in the thoughts which caused her doubts. Illya sensed it and did his best to show her that she was loved with his slow and soft kisses and the way that he held her and stroked her body. It was very different from the previous evening. He wasn't trying to rouse her. He only wanted to show her that her troubles were his as well. "Come," she said finally, turning her head back to lick his face, "take me, but be gentle, Illya. It is not your fault that I have things on my mind, and I will always share my body with you." "If we love, Yanna," he said softly, "I want it to be between us, and not only your sharing, though I am thankful for your kind thoughts. If you do not wish it, then I do not either. But if you want me, then what I want this night is something soft and kind between us so that you might feel better." "I don't think that I can, my love, but try to show me anyway." He rose up a little and Yanna pulled a pillow to her for something to hold and she held her haunches up for him, moving her long tail aside. In a little while, she found that he'd surprised her yet again. She purred loud and long at what he did for her and in spite of the things on her mind, she felt his love in a different way and thanked their gods again for bringing him to her. She'd never have imagined that he could make her feel so loved and wanted. "Promise me, Illya," she sighed as she wept the tears that surprised her, "promise me that you will do this for me whenever I am sad. I always learn much from you." Her tail flicked its furry way along his side. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 07 "I promised this to you last night when I put the gifts on you, Yanna, But if you need to hear it, then I promise this to you again." He reached forward to touch her hair for a moment. "I will always love you." She'd felt her soft and gentle orgasm come to her again as he softly stroked her sides and flanks. "You should let yourself go soon, my love," she said, "Do not hold back on my account. I think that I want to feel it when you let go, if I can. I want to know that I please you." He leaned down for a moment and she felt his kiss against her ribs, "I spent inside you a little while ago, my Yanna, but I will stop soon, and I am always pleased by you." She was surprised again, "But you made no sign of it, Illya. Was it good for you?" His hands stroked her shoulders as he sighed to her, "Yes, of course. It is not always done with a lot of thrashing, Beauty. This was to show you how I feel, and that may be said in a whisper just as loudly, no? It was not so much for me as I tried to make you happier, though I still let my seed go as I went slowly. This was so that you might feel better and know that I love you so." He smirked, "I could shout it, but your pretty ears are close by, so I whispered it and when it came time to let go, I did it without stopping. It had little to do with it, but you wept a little then and I almost wept as well, for you looked so happy. There was no need to stop and tell you that my seed was coming. That was the least important part of it to me." "Ah," she purred, "thank you for the lesson. When we can, I want to try to show you my own quiet love." She smiled over her shoulder at him, "I do not know yet how I will do it, but I want this with you now." ---------------------- Early the next morning, several riders were seen to approach the city and the archers of the guard stood ready to engage them. But the riders came slowly, and that was out of nothing more that the fact that one of them was very unfamiliar with being on horseback. They stopped and staked their horses on a green patch and then approached nearer on foot. There were five of them and they lined themselves up, three men and two women. Lugalbanda had chosen from among his ranks the ones who could be counted on to deliver the long shots that he wanted to send his message with today. Anat stood next to him, the proud captain of the female fighters who made up his wife's personal guard. Anat was prouder still whenever she could stand beside him in a fight of any sort. To the right of Anat the fiery-maned Fox and the blonde-haired Wolf from the frozen north-lands far away stood holding their bows as well. He'd begun as a beaten and frightened boy. Fox had claimed him as a prize and had then immediately offered her heart. Under her guidance, he'd become a fierce warrior approaching Lugalbanda himself in size and strength. Like many peoples, the Martu loved legends. The bond between this pair was one of the most popular ones around the evening fires. To Lugalbanda's left stood a tall and lean young man whose story was often asked for around the fires late at night now for it was known what he and his wild love had done for each other to come to the Ba'al's host. He was the newest of them to come to the bow, but he had a natural ability to make some amazing shots with the war bow that had been gifted to him when he'd needed it. The sharper-eyed among the city guard noticed that there was a lot of good-natured banter and smiles passed between them. Without their champion bowman, the city arrows fell far short, but they were noticed and the five began to answer in the still morning air. Men began to fall on the wall and before long, none of the guard stood in plain sight. "This is too much," an older archer grumbled, "you young pups cannot reach that far and the two women among them can reach here to take our eyes out just as the men can!" "Well if you do not like it," one of the younger ones groused right back at him, "then stand up and nail one of those pretty asses to show us how it may be done." ----------------- "The sport grows harder now," Lugalbanda smiled. "Now we must pick and choose our marks. If you look carefully, you might see the ones who look out from the towers or hide behind the rooftops and peek. Try for these now, Illya." He looked at the city wall. "Wait, see that one just standing up there? Shoot that one." Caught by his own words, the archer drew back his bow, settling his sight picture on the woman with the long flaming red hair since she wore lighter armor than the others. He failed to notice that all five of them were aiming back at him now. He released his shot just as the red-haired one did and made to get behind cover quickly. It was too late even as he had the thought and he fell among his own unit with four arrows in him just before the arrow of his target flitted past where he's stood a moment earlier. The five walked back to their horses and approached the gates, but then stopped and stood ready. Far behind them on the plain, a single rider appeared to ride toward the city, but soon the single rider became three, and the three became nine. These stopped not far outside the city wall and a tenth stopped to stand with the archers. As soon as the city archers began to stand up, they began to die. The nine riders raised their hands to the gates and the great hinges let go. Nisi-ini-su raised her hands then from where she stood with her husband and the gates blew inward with a groaning crash. The nine riders turned and slowly rode to the next gate, and then the next, casting fire to leave the gates burning. No matter what was attempted, the fires burned, maintained by one dead rider until the wood was burned through quickly. The riders assembled outside the main gates again and sat waiting in silence. ---------------------------- While the archers traded arrows, Yanna sat with the pair of fighters and asked for their advice. "I seek to know about two things from you if you would tell of them," she said. "Please, tell me about how I might make some sort of evening meal for Illya. I know that he would likely eat anything that I could present to him, but everything that I might have learned from my mother related to what could be made in a fine home. It is very different from how food is made here and from the little that I can see, I will need to know this way more than the other." She shrugged, "We have nothing, he and I. He cannot live on nothing, no matter what he says to me. I can hunt for us easily as long as there is game, but I cannot drag a dead thing to him and say 'here is your dinner', can I?" "That is easier than you might think," Smyrna said, "for it is the same thing, but everything is made more simply. You need to think that you might only have two pots and a fire pit. It can be done easily and goes much quicker. You cut everything thinner so that it cooks faster and you can eat sooner. We can show you. What is the other thing?" "Loving a man" she said, "I know that I please him, but I want to be better at it." She looked down a little out of shame and for the admission of what was really bothering her. "I am so far from what I was and what a man should make love with. It may happen one day that I lose him to a ... real woman. I do not want the cause to be that I was not enough for him in our bed." Daggat put her hand on Yanna's shoulder, "From the sounds that we all hear coming from your tent in the night, Yanna, neither of you will lose interest for a long while. If it happens, it will likely not even be over that, my friend, but I know what you mean to say. Look here," she said, "you tell me if I am wrong. Do you love him? Do you want and even need him to love you?" Yanna nodded and whispered, "Yes." "Well the first thing that you really should think about is that he feels just like that about you," Daggat said. "He looks fair to any woman's eye, well, to most, anyway. I have seen women looking at him here in the camp. But Yanna, I can say this because I have seen that it is so -- he has no eyes for them, "she grinned, "not the way that he looks when he sees you. Have you woken in the night and wondered where he is for just one moment, and then found that he is as close to you as he can get?" Yanna smiled shyly with a nod. "Yes. It happened just that way. I woke and wondered and was about to panic." She chuckled a little, remembering, "and then I found him with his head against my breast asleep and I was still in his arms. I felt like a fool, but I was happy then." "I will tell you a little secret about many people in general, and many more men in particular, "Daggat smiled. "Most people, even when deeply in love, do not wish for the one that they love to be that close as they sleep. It is not something that can be helped and is only natural." "Think a moment here, Yanna. The nights here are cool but they are not cold yet. He has no need to be that close because he desires to be warm. And yet," she pointed, "you found him close against you even so -- you -- a lovely girl who is covered in fur and has his heart. He must have been sweating, but he still needed to be that close to you. I think that it should tell you something about him. You are not the only one who is needing here. He needs you, Yanna. Ask him if you like. I think that he is such an honest one, and so open. I am sure that he would tell you much the same thing if he knows of it, so do not fear for this." "Now, about loving a man ..." They spent the rest of the morning talking and laughing. Yanna learned much. ----------------------- A bound and hooded man tried to sit up as he bounced in the back of a cart. He heard a voice telling him to lie still, but he was afraid and kept trying until a kick in the ribs convinced him to listen. When the cart stopped, he was pushed to his feet and the hood was removed. He stood blinking in the sunshine next to another man similarly bound. With a shock, the first man recognized the king. A muscular warrior approached them and sat down on a boulder to begin to speak to the king. "Mighty Hadanish," he said, offering a slightly mocking little bow as he sat, "I am General Lugalbanda. I took Uruk from you and now I take Khamazi as well. The city gates have been ruined so that any who wish to leave may go before I continue this. I might offer my scorn over how you were found last night -- without a goddess to be seen anywhere, but I am more interested in a certain sorcerer. Please tell me now of this Urgirinuna." "He is a mighty wizard," the king said, seething with outrage, "He will come and free me so that I may watch as he brings the agony of your death to you." The warrior smirked. "While you might have something to gain by spinning your hopeful lies to your subjects, I am not one who is impressed by your tales. Perhaps you need to be shown a simple truth here." When the king was placed back on his feet, he felt his lips swelling and tasted his own blood in his mouth as his tongue explored the new space in his smile. "We begin again," the warrior said without malice. He nodded, "So, then this sorcerer, this Urgirinuna, he works for you?" "Yes," the man said haughtily, "he will burn your skin from you and he will --" He fell silent when Lugalbanda raised his hand. "Half a moment, Hadanish," the general interrupted, "I try to understand this here, and I am too stupid and slow to do much of that while you threaten me. It mixes up my slow thoughts. If he works for you, then what does he receive from the bargain? I know something about sorcerers, and they hold themselves apart. None of them work for nothing and the ones who are really good set themselves a high price. What does Urgirinuna get for his service to you?" "I gave him a fine home in the middle of the finest part of the city for his work. I gave him much." "Ah," the general nodded again, "and did you visit him in this fine home? Did you allow him to catch young women for his work? He must need many to get the power that he wants." The king shrugged, wondering what this fool was getting at. "I allowed him to take certain ones, yes, but they were only ones which ran the streets with the rats late at night. They are nothing but trouble for the guard." "Sumerian?" the general suggested, "Were they all Sumerian women?" The king shook his head, "No, of course not. The beggars among the people were not what he wanted, he told me. He wanted only the lowest of the streets, the race of witches and whores -" The old man stopped suddenly when the general reached out and seized his jaw. "Have a care how you talk, old fool," he said coldly. "Look around you. You and I are the only Sumerians in this place and my heart is with these ones here. You stand now surrounded by Martu, and I am a priest of their cult. If you try to threaten me again, I may turn you into something," he ended with a joke. He leaned back and pretended to think for a moment. "If you had concerns for the safety of your city, I think that you would have wanted to have words with the sorcerer, and your palace has too many ears, I think. All palaces do. So then you would have come to the wizard's home to speak in private to hear the assurances that you would need. Well, I can say that your trust in him was as misplaced as your boasts about the goddess Ianna. Both have forsaken you. This goddess will do nothing but watch the fall of Khamazi and the wizard is not here. But I know a few things, Hadanish. One of the things that I know is that the merchant here next to you is also of the people that you call the lowest, but in his case, there is truth to it, I think." "You were the king of this place. As such, you are responsible for what was done there. This mage caused women to be captured and raped by your city guards and then he turned them into poor creatures for everyone's enjoyment but their own. I have found some who say that you visited there on occasion, so do not think to lie to me that you knew nothing of this. You were there, and so you must have walked directly past the poor women to get into the doorway. One look and anyone might guess that there is more than an animal to one of these creatures, and you have said that the mage had told you why he wanted only girls of one background." He turned around, and a slender hooded figure nodded, "He was there. Four times, I saw him come." The figure stepped forward to stand in front of the merchant and pulled back her hood before taking off the cloak and handing it to the leader of the assassins. She looked at the men for a moment and they saw the lines of her tears there on her dark feline face. It was clear to them in an instant that she was more than a human woman and yet at the same time, her feminine beauty could not be denied as she stood before them naked but for the jewelery that she wore, indicating that she was a married woman. "This is what was done to me by that mage. I was caught on the street, raped by the guards and given to the wizard. Why, Father? There was money paid to you wasn't there? Why was I given over?" "Why do you call me father?" the man asked, "I do not know you." "Then what has happened to your wife, my mother, since you do not know me. Have you forgotten my name as well?" He denied it all vehemently, but several of the ones there saw the lie in his face. "I can help, I think," a woman said as she approached. "Look, Father," Yanna said, "while you were busy with your gold, a new High Priestess has risen. See her hair, Father. She is Martu, her blood is pure Martu. And she has the same hair that I have. Did the wizard tell you that I am not your own blood? Did he tell you that my mother took a lover who was not Martu?" She saw the answer in his eyes and slapped him. Her claws left long bloody lines across his face. "I hope it is true," she said, "if you believed the lies that were told to you and killed my mother and gave me over to have this done to me because of it. I wish that I had never known you. You would have been happier for it, surely." "You are an idiot. Why do you think that he wanted me? The wizard wants only Martu girls for their power. If I was not pure Martu, he could not have done this to me. He knew what I was before he even spoke to you." She stepped close to the man and spit in his face. "My blood and my dark hair were the reasons that he wanted me. Even if what he told you was truth, why did I deserve this? What could I have done for you to cast me into that cage?" The Priestess held up her hand to the merchant. "There is no lie that you can tell now," she said, "Tell it all to me -- everything that was said, everything that you did, and begin with what happened to the mother of Yanna." He tried to lie regardless, but told everything once he learned that to try to lie only caused him pain. His mind was tortured every time that he attempted to say a lie. When it was over, he was on his knees, begging for mercy and an end to the torment. Yanna asked the Priestess for her opinion. "It looks to me as if your father is a very greedy man and holds warm thoughts only for the gold in his purse. From what was said, he would have wanted to be rid of his obligations long ago. I will have a search made of the mud flats which he spoke of. Perhaps we can find a grave." "Do not trouble yourself, my priestess," the cat said, "There is no grave and I am certain that her body is not there. I know why the place was chosen, but thank you for the thought." Nisi-ini-su looked at her husband. I agree," he said after a moment's thought, "and in any case, a man does not just decide things such as this -- in this way. I can see a low and thoughtless man just leaving without a word. I cannot see how the thought that one's daughter might not be one's blood changes anything of what was between the two for the love between a father and a daughter counts in this as well. And even if it was otherwise, the child had no choice in it. Why must the child be shunned or harmed?" He looked to Yanna who shrugged, "I have never been as pretty to him as a bag of gold. My mother was close to me. My father had little time between his shop and the tavern." The warrior looked down, "I still cannot see how the words of a mage and the offer of gold can cause a man to agree to this." The priestess turned to the man and held up her hand again, "Tell me your thoughts of the young people of the town. Tell me what you think that they do every night in the street." His twisted answers shocked them slightly and caused Illya turn away for a moment with clenched fists. He'd told himself that he would remain impassive, but to hear this ... "Well since I lived there, and I am one of these corrupt and worthless young people that he talks of," Illya said with a smirk as he turned back, "I can say that I had little time for the things that he thinks are done in the night. We are all too busy trying to stay alive and warm at night for much of what he says. But I can tell you that there are those on the streets to be avoided. They are all Sumerian. The ones who beat helpless people to death or kill each other in drunkenness are not Martu. We learn early to avoid friendships with Sumerians in the alleyways and the taverns. One might have a Sumerian friend, but there are far more who hate us than like us, and if the city guard comes into it, well, I know that the jails here hold no Martu for more than a day. If they are not released by an order, or gotten out by any magical means, they are killed. It happens every day." "Is it enough for you, Yanna?" Lugalbanda asked. When she nodded, he said, "Then I give the judgment of these men over to you. I need the body of the king to show to the king who I do this for. Other than a piece which may be recognized by some, you may do as you will." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 07 Yanna nodded, and Illya handed her his dagger. She cut through the king's bonds and he was handed a dagger. Standing before him, she smiled coldly and her voice was quiet but clear. "You should run." The king looked around at them all and ran into the tall grasses. "This is Illya," she said to her father. "You would not like him, for he is not a cheating, grasping young merchant who would sell his mother if there was a profit to be had from it. He was the beggar who you cheated when he cleaned the stables. He is one of many who saved my life, and he faced archers alone to do it. I know that you care not, but he is my man and has my heart." Illya's face was impassive as the merchant tried to recognize him, but said nothing. Yanna cut the bonds holding her father. "Run, Father," she said, "It is your only chance, and all that I give to you. Do not waste it." He looked at her, "I want to say -- " "You are wasting time," Yanna said as she turned away. "I will hunt the king first, and then I will hunt you. I may as well use what you have caused to be given to me. Run for your life, Father. That is all that is left to you." He tried again to speak to her, but she tore gashes in his shoulder and glowered at him as she pointed to the grasslands. "Run or you die where you stand." He ran. Yanna waited for a few minutes and then dropped to all fours. She said nothing. She sniffed the wind and the ground for a moment. With a curious chittering sound in her throat, she was gone into the weeds. Her claws threw up divots behind her as she accelerated away, reaching more than sixty miles an hour in three seconds - seventy miles an hour in only a second more. Mostly, she hated what she was, but there were moments like this when she found that there was something inside her that reveled in the power and the speed that she'd been given -- just as she was finding moments to revel in how she could make love with the man who loved her for hours at a time. A few seconds later, she slowed to a lope. There was no sense burning herself up over a piece of dung, and she's only needed to get closer. Now that she was here, she wanted only a look now and then as she stalked. Illya picked up his bow and trotted after her. No one could see it, but he grinned at the glimpses that he got of her now and then as she flew across the small open stretches that brought her into his view. Such a beautiful girl, any way that I see her, he thought. How had the gods known that he needed a blessing like her to feel alive again? It didn't matter much at all to him if she walked upright or down like this when she hunted, he thought. Her slim hips as they swayed magically made him hard only to see it. Ten minutes later, the king heard the rustling in the grass and tried to run faster but she tripped him as she sailed past with a swipe of her claws. She could have taken his life in that instant, but she chose instead to do as cheetahs everywhere do when they near the prey they are pursuing. She knew what was in her by the feel of it. The stalk to close the range. The joy of the chase and then the choice of the instant when she would reach out with her claws. Timing was everything and her footfalls had to be precise then. The quickening that she knew that she would feel to hear what she hunted as it fell, and then she had to be quick to get to the underside of the throat. The last part would give her no trouble today, she knew. He got to his feet and ran in a different direction, but she came from behind to pass him a minute later, tripping him again as she extended her foreleg and swung her claws as she went by in a blur and was gone into the tall grasses. She liked the sounds that he made in his pain. The noises of his tumbling before he stopped made her grin. The former king looked at his torn and bloody feet and legs. He was sore and he bled from the scrapes of falling as he ran as well and he didn't think that he could get to his feet again, but he found that he could indeed manage it when he heard her low growl from the thickets around him. He ran in panic. Yanna found the droplets of his blood on the ground and the vegetation and slowed for the final stalk. The man wasn't worth the strain of the high body temperature from a long chase. "No matter what he says, I am the other fool's daughter," he heard her say as he ran. The words came to his ears from the bushes, "and you and I have seen each other before. I remember what it was that you wanted to do to me." He heard her soft voice from the grasses that he ran by. "I was a rich girl and spoiled by my mother's love of me, but I was no beggar, witch or whore." He was doing his best, but he was flagging. A young and strong warrior himself once, there was little of that left in him now. His own soft life was holding him back as he ran. "Now I think that I should have been those things," he heard her from the branches of a low tree that he passed. "I'd have known better people with good hearts, and do you know? I would have had far more fun at night." He heard her drop to the ground softly behind him. A few seconds later, he caught a glimpse of her in the weeds twenty yards off to the side as she trotted, easily pacing him for a few seconds. When he looked again, she was gone. He heard her soft chuckle, "I might not have smelled as pretty, but if I had met my man then, I am sure that we would have left your dungheap town long ago and been better off for it. He could have had me as a girl and not as a fur-covered beast." He began to see her everywhere, dark flashes in the vegetation that were gone if he blinked. Eyes that watched as he struggled to run and then they disappeared as he stared. The low rumble from her throat and the snarl that he heard now and then kept his heart rate so high that he was having trouble seeing straight. The back of his neck hurt, and the pain in his head was killing him. "Instead, I was raped by the city guards -- who are there to keep order and protect people. Maybe, when I catch you, I will toy with your opening. My long claws would let you know how I felt that night." She came out of nowhere and pulled his feet from under him again and he found himself on his back looking up at her as she trotted back to him. The dagger was lost in the weeds far back. He'd dropped it and hadn't stopped to pick it up again. "I harmed no one," she said, "and this was done to me by your fine mage." She tilted her head to smile a little, enjoying his fear as he strained for breath. "I heard it when you asked if it would be safe for you to try to mount me if I could be taken out of the cage by ropes and held for you." She laughed in a slow and very deadly way. "Even the mage feared what I would do then. I am stronger than any cat that I may look like, and I would have welcomed the chance to be killed after I ripped you apart." She prodded his masculinity with a smirk. "It is said that you tell the lie that you have the love of a goddess and rut with her every night." She slapped her paw down hard enough to make him whimper and groan. "If any of that were true," she said, "then surely the poor goddess has fallen far. I know nothing of your goddess, but if I were her, I would make you bleed only for the insult of it. King or not, you have nothing here to hold the interest of any woman." He tried to beg, but the pressure from her jaws on his throat caused it to sound strange for the second that he could make a sound at all before she tore out his crushed windpipe after he'd passed. She raised her head to spit out the gore and turned to hunt her own father. She knew exactly where he'd run. The merchant's lungs worked hard to draw oxygen from the heated air of the dried mud flats. He'd heard it when the king had fallen the first time and he thought to open some space by getting across the open area before he tried to hide. His chest hurt. His way of life had meant that he didn't have to do anything but use his salesman's mouth to make a living. He was realizing that he had no idea of what it might take to live out here. With a bit of luck, he'd find a shallow mud hole to roll in. Maybe it would hide his scent from his daughter. He knew that he had to be quick about it, but he thought that then, he'd have a chance to escape. He turned to look back and his heart sank. She was just emerging from the cover of the reeds on the far side. Her eyes caught his motions and then the dirt flew from her claws as she ran. He knew that he had only seconds to live when he saw her race toward him. He'd never seen anything move that fast before. He turned to run for his life and fell into a deep mud pool. When he came up for air, he saw her standing at the edge looking down at him. "I am sorry, Yanna," he cried to her. "I was wrong for believing what was said to me. I should never have believed any of it. Please, help me out of here. Please, Yanna!" "What you heard was music that you wanted to hear," she said, "for you wanted to be rid of Mother and I long before that, "she said to her father sadly, "I had much time to think about it as I wondered why it was that my parents didn't look for me. Khamazi is not large enough to keep me from finding anyone if I had reason to look hard for them -- out of my love and worry, as an example." "That you did not search was no surprise after some thought, and I knew that my mother was likely dead before then anyway. She tried very hard to be a good wife to you, and even though I knew that I was not much loved by you, I never did a thing to cause you shame." She shook her head, "Such a waste of my time. There was only one man that I wanted for myself and the walls and nature of my life and his caused me to curse myself over it because we could not even speak to each other. Now I make up for the lost time. I do not even know how to be a good wife to him, but I know that I will never stop trying. In spite of everything that was done to me, he is able to love me even as what I have become." He reached for her but she growled and spit at him. The breeze caused her to miss. He looked at her and in her face, he saw his daughter, even though she was changed. Yanna seemed to be lost in thought now as she looked past him. She seemed to be remembering. "But you didn't look for me at all," she said thinking back to the nights that she'd spent hoping, "and so I think that I knew at least a little even then." He finally noticed that he was firmly stuck in the mud and sinking. "Please Daughter, "she heard him say, "help me out of this and we can begin again. I will make everything right. You will see." She shook her head looking past him, "I do not want to begin again," she said, "there is no going back from what was done to me. I suppose that you thought to punish me." "You tried to marry me off to many merchant men for your own gain as always and I would have none of them -- and even though I was young and knew nothing of it, I knew that none of them would be able to make me happy enough to overlook their fat and their sweat -- and their oily beards, just like yours, Father." "I am barely nineteen. Why would I want a man with a long beard hanging in my face as he gasps over me? No, I have no wish to begin again. The one who has my heart would do anything for me and expect nothing for it. He loves me as I am, this animal that you played a part in making." She looked at him and smiled. "I know that if I reach out my hand to you, you would only pull me in and stand on me to get out. Then I have no doubt that you would leave me. I know you well, Father." She nodded once beyond him. "You should try to turn around so that you might see your death as it comes to you." He looked over his shoulder and saw the crocodiles as they noticed him and began to pull themselves out of their torpor. He looked at her, "You will not help me out?" She shook her head. "As I have said, I know what you would do. Even without these things there, you would pull me in and watch me die in your place." The first of the reptiles had reached the edge of the large mud pit and began to slide in. "Then for the love of the gods," he pleaded, hoping to grab her arm, "use your claws there and kill me. Tear out my throat or something like that so that I might die before they reach me. Please Yanna!" "Too far to reach, "she smiled, "and not worth my effort or the risk." She stood up and backed away a little as Illya trotted up to her. "No, "she shook her head again, "Even if I thought that you would not try to grab my arm, I would not do this, Father. Unlike you, I cannot kill my own blood. I was not going to kill you, even if you hadn't run here. But I knew that you would run here to hide. I am not sure of it, but I think that my poor mother's body was thrown right here to the ones who now come for you." She smiled at Illya for a moment before looking at the merchant. "I cannot kill you, Father, but Illya can. See his fine bow. He can end your life easily. You should see him shoot. He killed the best archer in the city." She smiled as a thought came to her. "Perhaps you should beg for it, Father. Beg Illya for your release, for I will never give it to you." The merchant looked back frantically. The crocodiles weren't very hungry by the slow speed that they were making. But crocodiles are thrifty creatures and like to put something away for another day. They like to drown their prey and leave it to soak and rot a little under the water, hung up on a root for a few days until it softens a bit. "PLEASE!" he begged as he watched the two walk away. He worked feverishly at getting out, but the more that he struggled, the deeper in he slid. There was already a searing pain in his chest from the effort. "You cannot leave me here like this!" "Why not, Father?" she said over her shoulder without looking, "You will not have anyone throwing stones at you, and I am not laughing, am I? That was my prison. I was left to starve in a place where those who were to feed me used the money to get drunk. Only one person cared for me. You are likely very near to the bones of the one who always cared for you." They were a hundred feet away when Yanna looked at Illya. She nodded, "Now." Illya turned and nocked an arrow. The crocodile was only about twenty feet away from her father and was still in no hurry. Illya drew back the bow and sent the man his escape. The merchant gasped as his heart stopped and he began to sink onto his back. He was dead just before the croc reached him. Yanna hadn't looked back, and Illya turned to fall into step with her. She put her arm around him and looked up, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Thank you," she said. He nodded once as he moved his bow to his other hand and put his arm around her shoulders. "Illya?" "Yes," he answered. "It is not a problem for me now, but ... would you consider ... shaving your face now and then? Only as a favor to me?" He smiled, "As soon as I can find a place to do it. The river is often not smooth enough to see what I am doing." "I will ask Daggat for a smooth shiny pan or something." She pulled him tighter as they walked off to report the location of the dead king's body. --------------- The Priestess offered them a little food and drink as she entertained a few of the more powerful Martu women. Shahbek was in the group and asked how the hunt had gone, and so it became known that Yanna the cat-girl had hunted and slain the king of Khamazi. The sound of it was absurd to Yanna. To her mind, all that she'd done was run down and kill someone who had played a role in what she'd been turned into, but she remembered Daggat's comment to her about the people loving a good story. Illya loved it and enjoyed watching Yanna's shy attempts at downplaying what had happened. The lean chieftain leaned forward to speak in a low voice to them, "There are times when there is little food and only enough wood for a small fire during some very long and cold nights. Tales such as these are told then and they keep the spirits of the people up. Mothers and fathers turn the tales a little to teach young ones noble values." "Sit back and stop your objections, my friend. The truth is that you killed a tyrant and it adds to the legend of you both. That helps you, for the people accept you like this. They will still stare at the deadly and beautiful cat-girl, but if you look, you will see friendly smiles and many will not be too shy now to stop and talk with you." Something else came to Yanna as they left the tent. Yanna had looked for it and she could see that Illya was attractive to many of the women, young or not, but she also saw that Daggat had been correct. Illya was oblivious to their attention. ---------------------- They walked through middle of the large camp together for the first time in broad daylight, and at first, Yanna had silently steeled herself for the stares. She was not wrong, for most people stopped what they were doing to look at the archer and his wild girl as they passed. They weren't aware of it, but to most, they looked to have such grace in their movements - especially Yanna. She was astounded at the smiles and polite nods that she saw. It hadn't been an hour since the hunt and she could hear many whispered comments about her and Illya and how she'd hunted down King Hadanish to slay him. She didn't know if she liked the fame or not until a woman approached her with a small and very shy little girl hanging onto her dress. After a moment of hiding herself, the little one stared and finally smiled when Yanna spoke to her. With Yanna's soft encouragement, the girl reached out and touched Yanna's arm to feel her fur and when Yanna picked her up, there were sighs all around her when the girl threw her arms around Yanna's neck and hugged her. Illya stepped away a little to watch as many women came forward to talk to Yanna, now that they could see that she could speak and was friendly. He found himself in the middle of a pack of boys who wanted to look at his bow and ask him questions, but when he'd answered them all, and the boys drifted toward the crowd around Yanna, since they were obviously smitten, he saw a young girl of perhaps thirteen. He looked at her and smiled, "And do you want to know about my bow as well?" She nodded, "I want to learn to shoot like you," she said, once she'd found her voice, "and, ... I wish to know, ... do you, ... are you together with that girl? I mean,... more than her friend?" He nodded, "She is my wife, yes." The girl looked a little disappointed for a moment, but then brightened, "I have heard the tales of you, and they are very nice to hear about how you cared for her and saved her." Illya laughed a little, "She saved me just as much." He saw Smyrna coming to get them and told her that the girl wished to learn the bow. Smyrna asked for her name and had specific questions of the girl as Illya admired his wife, and then told the girl what she had to do to gain the best chance at what she wanted. "It is a long road," she said as she put her hand on the girl's shoulder, "and it is made this way to test you, so speak to your parents and your own Ba'al, and with luck, I will see you at Jebel Bishri. I am one of the teachers there, but I do not teach the bow." Minutes later, Yanna walked with Illya, doing her best to keep the tears out of her eyes. People still stared as Shahbek had said, but even Yanna could feel their friendly goodwill. ----------------- Yanna was growing upset when Illya came to the tent that evening after the day with the Ba'al and the others at first, and then again as he taught Illya more about archery in the late afternoon. It had happened after Yanna had hunted. As soon as he saw that she struggled with making him a meal, he was beside her helping. He even told her to sit while he prepared one thing. "Why are you so upset?" The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 07 "I am a wife now," she said, "and I want to be a good one." She looked at her hands, "I cannot do many things as easily as I once could when I had no claws. It makes it harder for me. Illya, we have nothing here, but we are together. That means that to me, you are my Ba'al. I want so much to do this right." "You do everything in ways that make me happy. Calm yourself, Yanna," he smiled, "I see what you would do here and I am happy and grateful, but you make yourself upset because you try so hard. You know that we have both lived on far worse than anything that either of us could do wrong here, and I know little myself, but I know how to make this." She felt better as she sat smiling with her arms around her knees while she watched him by the little cooking fire. The meal was a special one for her and like any young bride, she'd worried over it as she'd worked making this first meal for them. She had done her best and he loved her for it, and he'd come just in time to stop her from her fretting with the right words. He kissed her nose. "You will deny it, but to me, it is fit for the gods, and no matter what, I am thankful that you try. I am no wonder with pots and pans, but I will try too for you. The rules of the game are simple. We must not poison each other. Agreed?" Yanna hugged him with a laugh and a nod, happy to have such a great friend. They sat together and shared, eating everything from the only other pan that they had. To her delight, Yanna found that Illya liked to make up little stories as they lay in bed, and he seemed to like to tell her at least two a night at some point. When she asked him why, he only smiled and shrugged. "My mother would tell stories to me when I was small. After my family was killed, I would make up some little tales as I tried to sleep wherever I was. It made me remember my mother and I would feel better and maybe forget my empty stomach for a time. I could be a rich king, or a hero, whatever I wished to be at that moment. The effort of thinking them through would both calm me and make my mind tired enough to go to sleep." Yanna loved to listen spellbound as he whispered to her and his little tales took her away to far-off places and adventures. She would make him lie back a little on some pillows if they had their little oil lamp burning low so that he could see her, or if it was later, she would have him lie on his side. Either way, she would sometimes lie in front of him and love him softly and only a little at a time with her mouth as she listened, careful not to arouse him much until he had finished the tale. When he was finished, she would rouse him then and suck until he filled her mouth. He asked about it and she told him that it was just something that she liked to do as she listened. He liked it very much, but it wasn't the real reason that he told the stories to her. Other times, she would ride him very slowly in only tiny motions, just enough to keep that part of him interested as she listened. When she felt like it, she would reach for his hands and bring them to her breasts. A few moments like this and they would smile at each other and sometimes it grew wild for them from there, but just as often, they each sighed as the other one shook or went rigid for a little while. It didn't change anything for the times that they needed to love hard, but it brought a new dimension into their loving that they both enjoyed. At times like that, an orgasm became more of a punctuation mark or an event in their lovemaking than a goal. But this way that the stories sometimes led them also wasn't the real reason that he loved to tell them to her. While he loved to make them up and entertain her, he had his own reasons and he never told her what they were, since she'd never asked. They had next to nothing between them and while a young couple's love can carry them through many things, Illya had his worries. A girl like Yanna deserved the best that he could do for her and while he made it sound inconsequential, Illya was really very concerned. He was so happy to have her love and sex with her was so playful and caring, but there was one thing that he loved about her that was very private and meant so much to him. Ha always made sure to fill the oil lamp as full as he could. It wasn't large, and didn't give much light anyway, but he wanted it to last long into the night. It could show him wonders. When the time was right, he tried to think of a second little tale, and if he kept his voice very low, Yanna's eyelids would grow heavy and she would pull herself up onto him very slowly so as not to make his stop the tale. He would watch her come, slinking ever so slowly and he had to try to keep his manhood from reacting to one of the most erotic sights that he could ever imagine. Yanna looked so sexy when she was like this, but he didn't want to break the spell. She would lay her head on his chest, looking up at his face, but her eyes would close soon after and her deep, soft and quiet purring would begin to sound ragged just before it faded away and her breathing shifted into sleep. Illya sometimes told his wife that he was richer than any king. He said it most often to let her know that he appreciated what he had, and sometimes he said it to reassure her. But at these times, the little oil lamp in the corner of the tent would give off its soft and magic light to let him see what was normally hidden during the busyness of the day. He saw wonders then that almost made him cry. Yanna had never been a kitten, but as he looked down at her lovely sleeping face while she lay om him with his arms around her, he could see it in her. He could see her as she'd looked as a small girl, or at maybe ten years old, and again at perhaps thirteen, and finally, he just saw the most beautiful woman alive as she slept peacefully on his chest. He told her that he was richer than any king while she was awake, but it was at these times that he really knew the truth of it, because he was richer than even that. ------------- "What are you doing now, Illya?" she'd asked him earlier that night. He had laid her back and kissed her everywhere, but just as he'd gotten her soaking wet, he'd stopped and lay there between her long legs staring. "I was thinking about what you told me of Smyrna and Daggat," he said, "and how Daggat likes a little hair on Smyrna and that Smyrna likes for it to be bare for her to kiss on Daggat." "Well, I cannot do anything like that, can I?" she asked, "We are stuck with me the way that I am." He began to laugh very quietly and Yanna needed to know why now. "You think that I am some master at loving a woman," he smiled, "but really, I have only had a few women before you, Yanna. None of them kept it anywhere near bare. Sometimes, I had to work quite hard if I wanted to get only a little taste of it. I wished that I might get to lick just one which was bare, I just knew that I would like it even more." Yanna ran her fingers through his hair because of the thrills that she got from his breath this close to her. "So Illya? Tell me your verdict. I struggle as I wait for your kisses there, and you take too long to tell it now. Please tell me." "So, "he grinned, "now I find that the one that I love to lick the most is the barest one." He kissed her softly for a moment to hear her purr just a little. "And I think that you were about to complain about it. You are the way that I like it best -- and you don't have to do anything to keep it." He laughed, and she found herself laughing too, though she didn't know why. He sighed as he brought his mouth to her, "This little wonder here is always bare for me. I am truly richer than a king." Yanna reached for his face and whispered to him how she felt so fortunate to have him before she pushed him onto his back. She straddled him then and did something that amazed him. She often loved to rub herself against his body in various places just for her own pleasure and to tell him often how she felt without having to say it. Illya was used to this and loved it but what she did then was unexpected. Yanna used her juices to wet the tip of his penis as it throbbed against his abdomen. She knew that her mound was very different from the way that she was before she'd been changed. It had been one of the most heartbreaking things about it all to her, since it was right there in front of her whenever she looked down. Her breasts were not large enough to hide this from her. It had been just another embarrassment to her if her gaze went between her breasts. But she'd thought about a lot of things after her talk with the two fighters and rather than worry and fret as she had been doing, she decided to use what she had -- since apparently, nobody else had one like hers. Illya had told her plainly that he was fascinated with this part of her. Her pretty mound rose from her looking like many others, though a little small, but when she was aroused and her lips swelled, it actually stood out a little, looking a little like the prow of a ship with her clitoris as the point of it. When she was really aroused, her little bud could actually protrude a fair bit. She'd hated it, until they began together that first night. Then she was thankful for the way that it seemed to offer her the best chance at feeling everything that he did, and the position didn't seem to matter much. When Yanna was lit up and aching for Illya, even the act of walking carried its little thrills for her. As he watched, Yanna moved forward and when she was where she thought that her idea needed her to be, she bent forward a little and brought that magical little pearl down against the underside of Illya's penis. The first contact made them both jump. She tried again and found a way that she could take a very active role in loving him. Both of them laughed, since she'd found a way to make love to him as though she were the man in it. Neither one lasted for very long the first time and she had to lean all the way down onto him and hold him tightly as they caught their breath. Before Illya could ask where the idea for it had come from, she moved forward more until she could bring her dripping sex to his face. Yanna's throat was raw from her rough cry, and the smoky sound of it raised the hair at the back of Illya's head when she tried to ask him for what she wanted then, "Please, Illya... Please... suck just a little?" He began it and Yanna held his head to her tightly. A few minutes later, she was grunting slightly as she fucked his face. ------------------------- Twenty minutes later, she wanted more, but she just had to ask. "How many is a few, Illya? How many girls have you loved? I can tell you that I have loved with only you." He thought about it. "Four and maybe five," he said. Yanna was confused. "Maybe five? How can it be four and maybe five, Illya? Did you miss one of your fingers here in the dark as you counted?" He pulled himself up and kissed her softly. "Nothing like that, Yanna. The first one was a girl that I found myself in a small space with as it blew freezing cold rain outside one night. I went to one place that I knew and when I got there, she was just getting into it herself. We were both wet and cold." "I was about to go and look for another place when I felt her reach out to grab my ankle. She told me that she was cold and that we could share and keep each other warm there, and so I climbed in and we were quite warm. We each had a little food with us and so we shared everything. Before we knew it, we were fucking in that tiny place. We didn't love each other, but we liked each other enough for it and decided to stay together, but she found a man for herself. She came once to say goodbye to me and begged me not to look for her. She was afraid that I might ruin the only good thing that had happened to her and of course I would never do that." Yanna held up one finger. "Go on," she smiled, "I keep the score here." "The next?" he asked, "Ah, the next." He looked a little sheepish. "Well, I met a girl who liked me. She was not all that much to look at, but she had a body that could make me hard only to see it." He laughed out loud and grinned at her. "Now I do not think that I would think the same about her body because your body does that to me so much more." He shook his head with a smile, "Do you know? I often embarrass myself. I see you walking the way that you do and it happens -- no matter where I am. It is even worse than that, Beauty. Lugalbanda teaches me more about shooting with a bow, and I have a thought of you in the middle of it, and there I am, trying to think of anything BUT my Yanna before anyone notices." He kissed her softly and held her as he sighed. "I see you and my heart wants to break from your beauty. When you come to me on all fours here in the tent, I watch your shoulders and your hips and my whole body hums with tightness and need for you. I look into your face, Yanna, and I am lost. I think that I am your prisoner now." Yanna smiled, "A good thing, I think, because it happens to me as well. I see you doing anything sometimes and I am wet," she laughed quietly, "It is hopeless for me sometimes. I was here trying to make the meal and before I really began it, I had to help myself first, and then run to wash my hands and begin the meal." she ran her pawed hand over his chest, "I need your body against me always, Illya, but I want to get back to your adventures, Illya. I hold up a second finger now. Keep going." He smiled, "Anyway, she was a nice girl, and we liked to spend a lot of time together. We loved whenever we could, but her mother caught us one day. Her mother was a cook at an inn." "What happened?" Yanna asked, intrigued, "I see that the mother did not kill you, so you must have escaped." "Barely," Illya laughed. "She asked her daughter right in front of me if I was any good at fucking, and the girl said that I was." He looked at Yanna and shrugged, "Well how would I know if I was?" Yanna hugged him as she laughed at his expression, "Go on Illya. Tell it now. I must know where my husband has been if I am to deny it and maybe save your life from a jealous husband or an angry father." It made him stop and look at her. "Yanna, that was a long time ago. There will be nothing for you to deny to save my life. I have the one that I want." "It was in jest," she said, "and said badly, I see. I meant nothing by it, Illya. Please, go on." "The mother told me that I had to fuck her as well, and if she thought I was any good at it, she would make me a dinner." Yanna's jaw dropped and it was a while before she could stop chuckling. "What happened?" "The daughter lost interest in me soon after, and I found myself with a place to go for a good meal at least twice a week. The mother was harder to look at than the daughter, but I learned to cook a little from it all. They moved to another town some months after when the daughter found that she was with child. The father was a close relation, I heard, and I decided that I wanted no meal that badly if the two women were like that when they wanted a man." "Besides," he rolled his eyes, "the mother was no little thing. It was a lot of work for a meal. There were nights that I thought would be my last. It all felt the same to me, but sometimes, I seemed to be doing it just the way that she liked the most and she had very strong legs. It was a little worrisome." Yanna chuckled as she held up three fingers. "I still count your adventures. Now was it four or was it five?" Her hand found his hardness and she stroked him as she listened eagerly. "I don't know," he said. "I was with a girl who was a twin, and I could almost tell that some nights they took turns, but I can never know the truth of it now, I suppose." Yanna nodded to indicate her judgment. "The count stays at four, Illya, unless you begin to please me again. Come and give me some of this famous traveler that I have in my hand now, and I will give you the fifth because there is no way to really know and I will even raise the count to six to add me to the pile of happy women. The way that I see this is that you are so good for me, and you cannot have gotten this skillful - no matter what you say otherwise without having fucked that many of us. I see it as a benefit to me. I am proud of you for many things Illya," She nodded with a bright smile that made him laugh. She kissed him for a moment and then said, "I love you, Illya. I did not mean to make fun. I learned many things today, and I think that one of them is that you and I are very fortunate. I begin to see that a life, even one such as mine, can have laughter in it -- another thing that you teach so well to me, but I will never laugh at our good luck." She spread her long legs and sighed as he entered her again. ---------------- In the morning, Yanna found him trying to revive the fire. Once he had it going, he smiled at her and she came to sit beside him still wrapped in a blanket. They spent a little while warming a bit of food in a pan and ate together feeling like royalty. Daggat came around the side of the tent and looked at them for a moment with a smile. "I hate to ruin such a sweet moment, but I was sent to bring you to the morning meal. It will be your last one here." They stared at her and she said, "You will hear it all from the Ba'al's lips, but he wants you both to leave here this day. We are to take you to Jebel Bishri, and we must reach the cave around these parts before dark. Smyrna and I have never used that cave before. King Enmerkar will pass there this evening with his army and we must be gone before then, or we will have to wait until his whole host passes the cave. There will be little more fighting here, he thinks, but he will likely destroy much of the city before his slow king arrives." "But - why must we leave?" Yanna asked. "You have friends here," Daggat said warmly, "there are many here who wish you both well. The Ba'al and the Priestess will not risk either of you being hurt or getting killed on this field while neither of you are trained yet, though they see that you have the will and the desire to help. You have just wed. This is no place for a tragic ending after such a hopeful beginning. Take it as the compliment that was meant." "Why will he destroy the city?" Illya asked. "He is angry at the people here in the city. The farmers have his good wishes and he worries for them with the winter coming, but he finds no love in him for the ones in the city." Daggat pointed at Yanna. "How many knew that this went on? The Ba'al thinks it was many. The city guard is less than worthless in his eyes, and he will have any that are found killed. To him, it matters little that the Martu are hated here, for that is not new, but he has no use for a place where one group treats another badly inside a walled town. So I heard him say that he gives any who would leave the chance of it, and then he will begin to remove the mistake that was Khamazi." After the meal, Nisi-ini-su pulled Yanna aside and asked her to go for a walk with her by the river. The priestess asked if things were better for her now and Yanna nodded with a wide smile, thanking her for the tent and the other things that had been lent or given to the young couple. They joked and laughed for a time until Nisi-ini-su sat them down by the side of the river to tell her that she had something to mention to Yanna since she'd been asked to act as a intermediary. -------------- Illya was at the tent packing. The tent and everything in it had been given to the couple so that they might have at least something with which to begin a life together. Yanna came running to him not long after he'd started and she tackled him. She lay on top of him and laughed, "Are you thinking to run away from the one who needs you so? I would find you, no matter what, Illya. I would hunt you down and then I would fuck you senseless before I even asked you why you ran away. That is, if I even remembered it by then in my joy." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 07 They laughed at each other and then began to work together to pack. There was a lot of head-scratching going on until Smyrna arrived to help. "I watched for a time, but I can only laugh for so long," she said, "If I leave this to you, you will be here still packing long after the army has gone." With her help, it was done in no time and their things set into the cart. With a little time to spare, Yanna took Illya to the river. "I do not know how to say it, Illya, but I have been bursting with the strangest news. I needed to get you alone to tell you." Illya looked at his young bride and couldn't quite get a handle on the emotions that he saw there. "Well tell it then," he smiled hopefully. "I do not know how I should feel," she said, "I walked here with Nisi-ini-su and we talked of many things. She and I are becoming friends, but she was also there to talk to me about another matter concerning Daggat and Smyrna. They have something to ask us, but the priestess offered to raise it to me first beforehand in the case that it might ruin our friendship with them." Illya was confused now, but Yanna just asked him to hear her out, since they both had to decide something. "They have been very good to us and I love them for their help and friendship to us and mostly, to me," she said. "They have been together for a while now, a few years, they said, and now they would like to have a child between them. The priestess was asked and she has given permission for one of them to be spared from her duties for this." She looked at her husband as he put the pieces into place. He nodded, "Go on." "Well on the one hand, part of me wants to feel a little shocked, but another part of me feels very honored to be asked. They want to ask us if you would help them. No one knows yet if I can be a girl again and I don't think that I can give you children at all like this, so they have offered that if you can get Daggat with child ..." She looked at Illya carefully, "Then they would have a child to love and raise, and the child would know that you were the father. Also, if it works and we cannot have our own children by then, they offer to make another child with you for us to raise. It is a very strange thing, Illya, but I find that I am not totally against it. In a way, I am also a little proud that they ask for you." He looked down as he thought about it. "I don't know how I feel about that. I am glad that the asking is being done so carefully here, but I want to wait until they ask us together before I even decide anything. The way that I feel right now, I would say no." He looked at Yanna, "Why are you a little proud?" She hugged him tightly and kissed him, "The legend of my man," she grinned, "If I cannot give you a babe myself, we would still have one to raise and love, and ..." "Your count would go up by one more." Illya stared at Yanna. He looked straight into those lovely and thoughtful amber eyes that he loved to lose himself in, wondering what had gotten into her. He'd been mindful of some possibly fragile feelings, and had even thought ahead to be thinking of her possible possessiveness. And she came to him with this? It was bending his brain a little. Aside from how she was confusing him now, he felt more than a little uncomfortable with the idea. He kept staring, wondering if he ought to even blink. And then he saw it, the tiny twitch of her whiskers. His eye went right to it. Her whiskers were trembling just slightly, and he knew that she was doing her best to hide a grin that wanted to come out. Yanna was leading him on. "What is it?" she asked, but her facial control was already fading. Illya smirked and it was all over for her. His heart swelled in his chest from the way that her beautiful head went back as she laughed freely. It was a big change from the way that they'd met, wrapped up in unhappiness. She pushed him down and leaned over him for a second, laughing before she nuzzled her nose under his jaw. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down to him. "I couldn't mislead you?" "For a long moment, I believed it," he chuckled, full of relief. "I hoped that you would be nervous and refuse, and also, I hoped that you would accept - only because I have a picture of you and Daggat mating together in my mind," she said, "I do not wish for it to happen, but it makes me a little wet to think of it." She looked at him with those eyes again. "I really am very proud of you, just not proud enough to share." "I see how I am looked at here," he said, "and I know what is in people's minds," Illya said. "Some think it strange that I am together with you, but I also see what is in most of their eyes. I am a very lucky man and when I see the way that they all look at you, I am so proud of you, Yanna, that you would love me." She pulled her head back and looked a little serious, "I was asked, you know. I was very uncomfortable about it and I knew that you would be also, but as I sat struggling with an answer, the one called Fox came to us and told Nisi-ini-su that she and Wolf had agreed that he would help Smyrna and Daggat. You and I were the other choice." She jumped up and grabbed his hand to pull him up. "Come," she giggled, "follow me." Illya sat up with a smile and allowed Yanna to lead him. "Where are we going now?" "We are here at the river," she said, pulling him, "and we are going to leave soon. The armies are preparing to fight, and no one looks here." She pulled him into a thicket of reeds. When they were inside, she threw her arms around him and kissed him hard for a moment before her pawed hand reached for his loincloth. A few seconds later, it sailed over the reeds toward the shore. Her head pulled back with a grin. "Now," she said. "Now? Don't you mind the stinging flies here?" Illya stared at her. Yanna had turned around and bent down to place her hands on the bottom as well. "Now and here," she said, "I want my man and what you sting me with makes everything better." She moved her hips a little suggestively and her tail found his leg. "No one can see, and anyone who hears us will not want to face a large cat that they cannot see here in the reeds. I have wanted to do it this way from the beginning." Illya smiled and stepped forward to mount her. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 08 **This chapter annoyed the hell out of me to write. I rewrote it four times. It looks like just a bunch of vignettes to me, but underneath everything, I get to where I want the reader to be and it lays the ground work for the next chapter which will be really busy and a little fast-paced. If they seem a little fixated, try to remember what each of them have been through, and when you think of Yanna and Illya, bear in mind that this is a simpler (and more visceral) time, and the two are a very young couple. 0_o ------------- Yanna was standing on all fours in the water with Illya behind her and leaning on her shoulder a little. It had been her idea to make love in the reeds like this, and now they were both out of breath. The sun was hot, almost directly overhead, there were flies buzzing around in the thicket where they stood gasping a little as she felt him slide out of her. There was no breeze to be felt where they stood. Yanna was panting from the exertion and the heat and Illya was sweating. But it had been fantastic. She looked back at him and they grinned at each other before wading out into the open to bathe a little. When they turned to go to shore, they walked hand in hand and hadn't noticed right away that Daggat was on the shore looking at them. Yanna was quite used to being seen without anything on more often than not, but she was a little concerned for Illya. But Illya didn't care much. "I am not certain, since we have never spoken of it," he told Yanna quietly, "but I do not think that I have much to interest - or upset our friend there." He walked to where his loincloth had landed and began to put it on. What he didn't notice -- and what Yanna did -- was that Daggat had a bit of difficulty maintaining eye contact with Yanna. She kept glancing at Illya. "I have been looking for you," she said, "we still have a little time, but Shahbek asks to see you before we go." "Did you hear anything of a large cat making noise in a thicket around here?" Yanna asked. "I might have," Daggat replied, "Why?" "You should be careful," Yanna said, joking a little, "a large wounded cat can do a lot of damage if you blunder near to it." "That was a cat?" Daggat held her eyes wide open as if in wonder, "I had no idea what that was. And wounded you say? That explains all of the grunts and the moaning that I heard. All that I knew was that it splashed a lot and kept howling out its love for someone named Illya." "Ha," she exclaimed, "I learn something new every day." She rolled her eyes, "I do know what you sound like when you are fucking, Yanna. We have all learned the sounds these last nights. Everyone thinks that you either kill Illya, or that he must be some sort of magical warrior to survive it with you. Screeches, howls and long wails, I think that you are being sent away so that everyone might get a little sleep at night," she laughed as she looked at Yanna's shocked face, but then her face fell and she muttered, "Not that it helps me. I will still have to listen, won't I?" "Am I that loud?" Yanna asked as Illya began to notice Yanna's embarrassment. Daggat was pleased now that she'd had the last laugh, but she laid her arm on her friend's slender shoulders , "No, only sometimes, Yanna. It is not too loud, but the cat in you adds much to the cries that you might make as a woman and the ones in the nearest tents probably know exactly what you do." She grinned. "And it is not all your noise, my friend. Your husband is no quiet mouse either when he gushes and shouts his love for you. Smyrna and I keep a count for him most nights." Yanna was astounded, "Really?" "Of course," her friend replied as she led them to the chieftain's own large tent, "We cheer for him." Yanna felt self-conscious and found that she was getting a little tired of the jokes. But she put a good face on it and grinned a little, "What? Does no one cheer for me?" Daggat leaned in close and her own grin showed as she whispered, "We cheer for you as well, Yanna, and we are very thankful for your wild sounds. When you moan and yowl, it drives us both mad with desire. We cannot keep our hands away from each other while you fuck. It is as if we were new to each other once more." She leaned in quickly and kissed Yanna's cheek. "Thank you for that." They walked into the tent and found Shahbek waiting for them. She was just finishing a quiet conversation with a slightly shorter, thin woman who gave Yanna a slightly longer glance than she gave the rest. Yanna saw the same deep blue eyes that Shahbek possessed as they flashed at her for an instant before she turned away. As the two entered, the woman busied herself with cleaning and tidying. ----------------------- "I wanted to speak with you both of some things that are a little different for you now," she said. "These things, I learned because of the one that I loved, but I found far more than I really searched for. I seem to have become a source of knowledge on large cats," she shrugged. Unlike the other times that they'd seen her, Shahbek now wore nothing on her head, and due to the heat, she'd left her over-robes off as well and the many blades, jewels, and rings that adorned her almost shimmered in the light from the doorway. Her long reddish-brown hair hung in braids, but even so, it hung long down her back. Her face bore a few faint tattoos in symbolic patterns, and while she wasn't pretty, it was clear that in her day, her beauty had been breathtaking. Even here like this, she carried her own kind of beauty and her deep blue eyes could appear both dangerous and alluring, depending on the mood or the moment. "You have been together for a few days now, "she said, "and so, I am sure that you might have noticed certain ... tendencies and directions to your feelings, Yanna. I can see the happiness in you both from where I stand and it does my poor heart much good to see it. I only wish to tell you of other little details which you may or may not have noticed." She nodded, "From a human view, you are wed. It means that you are mated to each other. From the view of certain types of large cats, it may or may not be the same thing. In the case of my love of long ago, she had well-developed lion-like tendencies. When we loved, I took the part of the male -- for I am very dominant, and she was my female, just the way that it is with lions." Shahbek raised one finger, "But with lionesses, there is usually more than one female in the harem of a male. They are happy to share his love between them in these cases, and one acts as the queen of the lionesses, enjoying the, - if you will pardon the allusion -- lion's share of his affection, though none are left out. For us, that meant -- once I had learned of this -- that I could bring another into our loving at times. I am rather strong-willed when I love, so even if the third person was a male, we shared him, but he had to be submissive to both me and her." "I mention these things because I find that I like you both so much that I could wish that you were the children that I have always missed having in my life, so I wish for what is between you to succeed, but you both will need to be aware of some things regarding the nature of large cats, and they are not all the same." Yanna felt the assassin's gaze. "You are not all woman. This is obvious. But from what I see, you are not all the same sort of cat, either. You feel a strong need to be mated by the one that you love so much," she indicated Illya, "and that is something noble to aspire to as a cat, believe me. Most do not feel this way at all." "I am as a cheetah," Yanna declared, "I am dark, but that is from the magic that was done to me and my dark hair. What else could I be?" Shahbek smiled, "You do not see it, Yanna, but there are big differences between what you look like and the other one that I see in you. You have far more power than any cheetah could ever have -- even if she was as large as you. The color patterns of the cheetah are there on you, though a little hidden, but your strength and the shape of your skull tell me of another breed." "Far to the East of here in high mountains, I have seen a kind of leopard different from all other leopards in many ways. One of them is the shape of the skull so that the passages above the nose can stand the cold air and the height of the mountains where they live. Another is their strength, and still another is the way that they breed. They live alone until they mate, and then they pair and stay paired. They mate often then, more than thirty times a day, many of them. This is the way of the Snow Leopard, and that is what I see in you." She saw the disbelief in Yanna's face. "I see your doubts, Yanna," she said, "so I will show you other things that are not right for a cheetah. You told of climbing a tree today. Cheetahs can jump, but they cannot climb because they cannot curl their pads and claws inwards -- which I have seen you do myself when you held up your hand at our first meeting. It was one of my first clues to your nature. You have trouble sometimes grasping things? A cheetah cannot close its paws at all, not even a little. Yet you can, though you must get used to it. And while I speak of your pretty feet, I can tell you that they are large for your size, because they are like a Snow Leopard's feet, and that cat can walk on top of snow oftentimes without sinking." "Tell me, when you hunted today, did you rely on what you saw or on what your lovely nose told you?" The chieftain already knew the answer, because she had seen what Yanna had done before she began her chase. "I smelled where the men had run to and I followed," she said, "and when I was close enough to stalk, I used my eyes." "Well that is fine, "Shahbek replied, "but a cheetah hunts by sight only. You hunted in the way of a leopard because you have a better nose. And when you neared what you hunted, what did you do then?" "I, - I chose to trip him." Yanna replied. "What would your other choices have been?" "Well, I could have brought the king down by striking with my claws, or I could have just pulled him down with my teeth." "Not as a cheetah," the chieftain smiled, "they are built for their speed and lack the strength to pull game down. They trip their prey. But you knew that you had a choice because you killed the archer in the dark square by just ripping into him. I have been there since, and I saw the marks on the body, and one more thing..." she fixed Yanna with a hard look, "cheetahs never hunt at night. They lack the eyes for that as well, but your eyes are fine in the dark, are they not?" Yanna nodded, "Alright, Shahbek, I see what you mean to say." "Good, "the chieftain nodded, "because without this part of that cat's nature in you as well as the fine girl that you still are in there, you very likely would already have broken Illya's heart and if not, then you would very soon." Yanna's jaw dropped. "But ... I never ... I never would." "All that I wish to say is that you both need to be aware of these things. A cheetah female -- any cheetah female, will mate with any male who might catch her eye. I say this so that you know where it might come from if you feel this." "How you deal with it -- if it happens -- is something that you may wish to talk about between you first -- before it happens. See if there is a way that Illya will allow it. See what ways there might be around it. See if you can withstand the urge if it comes to you." "You are such a fine couple," she said with a warm and genuine smile, "I felt that I had to warn you of this -- and I pray that I am wrong, but if this happens and he cannot accept it, you could lose him. It was what I meant when I said that you would cry many more bitter tears." "Know what it is and where it comes from if you feel it," she said to Yanna. To Illya she said, "Try to understand her, Illya, and always give your love. It is not only Yanna's heart in danger here," she said to them both, "it is Illya's as well, for I see the kind of love that is between you. It never happens to most people." She leaned close to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Illya, know one thing here. These ones, the one that I loved, the ones who died in that cage, and this one here, they are all tortured in their way because of what has happened to them. Your beautiful girl here seems to be able to keep the sadness from her, no doubt because of your love, but do not be too quick to close the door if she falls a little. I do not need to tell you what she might do if her sadness grows too dark." He nodded, understanding completely and feeling a cold and terrible fear in his heart. "I did not want to darken what has been a fine day for you, but I know what it is to lose what you can never have again. Once lost, Yanna, you can never regain his trust, for I can see that he would carry this in a hard way and never offer anyone his trust again to the end of his days. He is not a cat, but I know the animal that he is, for I have loved one like him before and that is another sadness of mine." She led them back to the door of the tent. "See that man there," she said. The couple was surprised to see a man that they'd walked right past on their way in and had not even noticed. They looked at a heavily-scarred and muscular man who sat sharpening a blade more than fifty feet away. Other than his physique, there seemed little that was remarkable about him. That all changed when he noticed that he was being looked at and returned their gaze. Seeing nothing of interest to him, he went back to what he had been doing, but the memory of that moment when he'd looked at them remained with them. A man who had no reason to care might have noticed them as people and at least seen Yanna as a curiosity. They saw that he regarded them as objects -- living objects of no consequence to him. They'd seen his gray eyes, but not his soul. He'd looked right through all of them. "Sorn there is my other tragic mistake," the chieftain said quietly. "He was once like you, Illya, just as open and trusting as you and he was just as beautiful as you are once, long ago. All that he wanted was my heart for his own, but I was never that kind. I have always been more like ... a cheetah, you might say. That is all very well and good, unless a heart like his -- or yours - hangs in the balance." "When men are hurt, only a few do irrational things. Almost all of them simply walk away. Some men do not even seem to notice the pain if the woman that they love takes other men behind their backs. It is harder for most. Most men go on after having their hearts and their trust broken," she said, "It might be a painful thing to them for a time, but they leave the hurt behind them sooner or later much as we do, though like us, they hold some of it for longer." "But there is a kind of man who is a little apart, and after their few and quiet tears which they show to no one, well ... those ones only go on breathing." "In our case, I could not leave him alone but I still took other men to love with, and when I was done, so was he. He left for a time and came back to me years later, but not to offer me his heart anymore. He had none to offer. He came to offer his skills, and you know what trade my clan works in. Sorn is the single deadliest man that I have ever known. He works alone and is as a shadow that one never sees the other side of. For a price, he would kill anyone quietly without a thought, other than how to go about it and return to collect his fee. A long time ago, Sorn was just like your man, Yanna, open and honest, kind and caring, until I cured him of it. He would have done anything for me out of his love for me. He still would do anything for me -- but now, the price must be negotiated first." "When he came back, there was nothing inside of him anymore and that was all my doing. He speaks very seldom. He stayed alone. He never laughs. He cared about nothing. He felt nothing. He trusts no one, because I took all of that away from him in my selfishness. He lives, but as a person, he was very dead inside." "Now I have such hope for him again, but not for my own heart," she smiled a little as she turned back to glance at the other woman who still cleaned the tent. "He was passing through a marketplace and his path took him past a slaver's stall. He does not look at women, but he always looks around him. It is one of the things which keep him alive in this business. He saw one woman there that day who no one wanted among all of the young and comely slave girls. No one even looked at her, for she was too old at well past thirty and it was plain that she had endured much hardship in her life. But something caused Sorn to stop and look hard at her. He paid the slaver a silver to have the woman to himself for a few minutes at the back of the stall alone to try to speak with her, and afterward, he asked the slaver for his price." "Slavers do not keep ones that no one wants to buy for too long, and this woman's time was almost up. But I know that slaver myself, and we have spoken since because I journeyed to him to learn what I could. He told me that even though he saw that Sorn wanted the woman for some reason, he did not seize his chance to ask more than he would have anyway." Shahbek smiled, "It was a good thing, too. If Sorn had marked it, the slaver would be dead now." She looked at the young couple, "Sorn paid the slaver three times his price, but he had demands, and wished to know everything that the slaver knew of the woman. He even paid the slaver for his time in the telling of it. He paid in gold to know, for the woman would speak very little. He took her to other stalls and bought her some clothing, for she had nothing, and then he took her so that they might eat a meal. They went to an inn and Sorn paid for three nights and then he left her there after the first night, for he was in that place to kill a man for me. When his task was done, he returned and brought her to us, the two riding on his horse together slowly. That was when he spoke more words to me in one evening than I have heard him speak in fifteen years and even so, it still was not much." "A few days later, he left to find any of the ones who had done what she had suffered and still lived, and he has now returned after two months. Two women and seven men are dead in four towns, one of them a foolish Sumerian priest, one of them a greedy and self-righteous Ba'al, and one of them a relation to his woman. I know that he whipped some of them at least some in retribution for what they'd caused her to suffer because she'd been whipped. He said nothing to them all about who he was or why he'd come. He never does, unless he has instructions to tell those he is sent for anything of importance. Then he killed them, and that is all that I will tell of it." "While he has been gone, I made my trip to see the slaver and I have done my best to help his woman. I have showered many things on her in my hope for their happiness, for I have learned what I could so that I might make their lives better together. Like him, she rarely spoke at first, but now we talk a little between us. They knew each other long ago, but were parted by others and neither one knew what had become of the other. Sorn found his way to me much later after searching for years, and as his heart began to heal from the thing that I knew little of, I crushed it in my selfishness and completed what had already been begun." The other woman excused herself as she was about to leave and Shahbek spoke with her a little in a dialect where little was known to the others. She nodded and walked out to Sorn with a small shy smile. The change in him was startling. His stern and blank face lit up and he stared at her for a moment before he came to lift her right off the ground with his hug. They walked off together, her hand in his. The woman said a word or two and he looked back at Shahbek and nodded his thanks. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 08 "Now they have found each other again, and they heal each other a little as they can. I have spoken to the Priestess for them and they will accompany you to the keep. He wishes for them to spend a little time together, and then he wishes to change his life." Shahbek smiled, "I have a small surprise for Sorn and he as only seen a little of it on her face," she said, "while he has been gone, I have paid for his woman there to have tattoos made on her to cover and hide many of her scars. While she would have preferred to never have had the need of them, she is happier now." "I feel happier myself to have been able to do this for her -- for them. Since he returned to us, he has never taken a woman. I thought that it was another thing that I had killed in him. That I was wrong makes me want to sing now that there seems to be a little life left in his poor heart even still." She turned to Yanna, and the girl was shocked to see the wet eyes in a face that she thought never showed anything like that to anyone. "I have wept my own bitter tears over two lovers," she said sadly. She led them back inside and continued. "You have an idea what is at stake for her, Illya, so always give her your love. And Yanna, if you love this one here, remember Sorn if you feel tempted and have not spoken of it with Illya. That is surely what awaits him otherwise. Before it all, Sorn lost his parents and then his sister. Illya has lost his parents. I do not know if he lost anyone - " "Sister," Yanna sighed as it came to her, "Illya had a young sister who also died at the hands of the city guards." Shahbek nodded and held Illya's chin for a moment, "He is a little different and just a bit fragile, as are you, but it is on the inside of you both in different ways. He is like Sorn. Their hearts are deep and they hide nothing. That is what makes a man like him special to love and be with. But if it is broken, they are never the same again. Their hearts turn to stone then. It is just the type that he is, as you are the type of girl that you are inside. It is a rare woman who would want to throw off what she has because her heart tells her to love a good, but poor man." She touched Illya's cheek softly, "And it is a rare man who would walk the road of life with a girl so wild and do anything for her without a thought and yet remain a man for it all the same." She sighed, "I have had to learn many hard lessons, children. What is the point of learning them if I cannot pass on what I have learned at such a bitter cost? This may not happen at all between you, and I am hopeful that it does not. All that I say is to be careful with each other's hearts." She stepped forward and bowed to them both in the way of her tribe and kissed their faces. "May we meet again in happier times and may you both grow from the love that is between you." With that, Shahbek left them and they looked at each other with wide eyes. She looked at him, "Illya, I --" "Nothing has happened, Yanna," he said, "You carry too much as it is in your heart. I do not know what to say to you here, but I trust you, Yanna." "No, Illya, you listen to me, now," she said, "I think that I know what Shahbek speaks of. I can say that I might have even felt a little of this, but I did nothing about it, Illya." She reached for his head and kissed his cheek before she rubbed her face against it, "You will always have my heart." She shook her head, "I know what it is to be alone and have no hope at all. Only you kept me alive, Illya. I will never turn from you." ----------------------- When they were ready, Sorn and his woman, who he curtly introduced to them as Besha arrived on horses, and it came as some surprise to them that Besha was very skilful at riding. The two were similarly dressed in long dark gray cloaks, but another similarity between them became apparent a few seconds later. Besha carried blades of her own, and more than a few. Illya remarked on it and Sorn did his best to offer a smile. "Where we come from, it is common for a man and a woman to work together in all ways. Besha has had a hard life, but she knew of the type of work that is done by the tribes often. Wherever she was, she was kept chained regularly and always far from a blade. Shahbek has given her these so that she can feel what we are again, and that is free and with blades to protect ourselves." Nisi-ini-su arrived moments later. "The Ba'al would be here," she said, "but we begin now to weaken the outer stones on the walls of Khamazi. He is needed there to keep order when the walls fall. I must return to his side soon." She looked at the assassin and his woman with a warm smile. "Safe journey," she said, "I look forward to seeing you at your new home. There will be much to speak of when we meet again. We thank you for your offer of service, but spend some time before you take up your tasks there." The rest were a little surprised at the emotion that they saw on the older pair as they bowed deeply and thanked the Priestess. "Do not think of the past if you can, and do not fear," she said, "You keep, or tell of your past yourselves. Not many will judge, even so. That you know and practice the faith once more is thanks enough." She looked at her fighters sternly, but there was still a smile in it, "See that you get the famous cat-girl and her archer to the keep. I know that the duty has been hard to this point." She winked at them. "Oh yes," Smyrna groaned, "Mostly it has been much waiting," she grinned. "We must wait for them to get their tired eyes open in the morning and then we stand waiting for them get their bodies unknotted from each other after each long night that they struggle in their exhausting nightly warfare, by the sounds of it. We must wait for each one to finally see enough of the other's beauty so that we can take them where they must go without tripping over their own feet. And if they begin again to kiss each other, well there is another afternoon wasted." "I remember times when I visited and had to wait myself on a pair of smitten fighters," the Priestess said, "I had no idea how to get a pair of horses under your asses so that we might ride to where I had to be, for you were so close that horses cannot stand that near together." She sighed, laughing, "It would have saved me much time if I had just gotten a wagon to haul you both around in because you had your hands in every crack of each other's armor and the rest couldn't get you apart." She turned to Yanna and Illya, "My thanks for what you have done to help, and for the way that you both lighten the people's hearts when they see you. Safe journey." She nodded and rode off. Their departure from the mounting tension near the battlefield of Khamazi seemed to take forever, the way that they found many of the roads blocked or choked with warriors trying to get to their staging areas where they were to wait for signals for them to join the fight if it came to that. Since Illya was no horseman yet by a long shot, he found himself on the seat of the cart with Smyrna, whose own horse was tied to the cart to follow. Yanna could ride, but it was a long process to find even one horse who would tolerate her on its back. At last, a stallion was given to her, and that had been a wonder to everyone. The horse was known as a killer who would accept no rider for long before he tried to throw them or rub them off against something no matter how many times the breaking of him was attempted. Being thrown was worse, for he would immediately try to stomp the rider into the ground, hence his reputation. But as soon as he saw Yanna, everything changed. He stared for a few moments, his ears lying flat back, but after a few angry snorts, he stepped forward proudly for a better look, and in only minutes, Yanna seemed to have a horse. Other than what she knew of dealing with reluctant horses, she'd done nothing but talk to the beast. She was about to get him into line so that they could leave when Yanna felt a little pressure on her leg near her knee. She looked, and saw Besha's tattooed face far back under her hood as she sat on her horse next to her. "Never spur this one," she said quietly after a glance to his scarred sides, "Half of his troubles come from stupid people. This one is like the shy boy who waits to ask you for a dance but never finds his nerve and must watch while you walk away with another. He does not know how to ask. Everything else is his rage. He looks to be hopeful with you. Treat him as though you have suddenly noticed that shy boy, Yanna, and he will be yours." Yanna took it in with a bit if surprise and thanked Besha. The woman nodded and turned her horse away. After that, he seemed happiest whenever she was riding him. He tolerated Illya's presence near to him, but had to be watched then. More than once, he'd swung his head suddenly, and Illya found himself on his backside wondering if the animal would rear up for the finishing strike, but it never happened. Eventually, Illya decided that it was the thing's attempt at humor. Daggat ranged ahead and came back often to tell of what lay in front of them. One of her reports had them all thinking. "The cave is up ahead, but there is no way that we can reach it and get inside before the king's army gets there. Even now, there are his scouts passing through the area." Smyrna thought about it for a minute, and then shrugged, "We cannot wait for the host to pass. We will be seen by the scouts long before if we try, and the Ba'al told me to avoid them if I could. We must go another way." "There is another way?" Daggat asked. Smyrna nodded, "Yes. We will go to a different cave. I have been there before long ago, and I know that the way there is still open. It might be better anyway," she said, "I do not like using a dead road that I do not know if it is important that I pass, such as now. The only trouble is that it will add two days to the trip." ------------------------- Smyrna had no trouble finding the way and talked with Illya as they rode. At last, she came to something that she wanted to say, but had difficulty with. "I wanted to say my thanks to you for ... "she shook her head, "I have no way to say this, Illya. I, well, Daggat and I, ... we are happy that the talk of what we might have wanted from you has not changed anything between us. I was very afraid that it might." "Do not trouble yourself," he smiled, "for us, it was a struggle because we didn't know what to say, or even how we felt about it. We both did feel honoured to have been thought of." "That part was easy," Smyrna grinned, "Daggat and I think that you both are very fine. Daggat would lie with either of you any time." She laughed then, "And I am almost sure that I would as well." Illya was a little astounded. "But, I thought that neither of you wanted a man." "We do not," Smyrna chuckled, "but before we found each other, both of us have had men, Illya. We just want each other because we are very close and we know what we like in bed, and it is easy to feel loved and to make love between us. Our love for each other grew from that. Most men know little of the way that we like it. A gentle caress is a foreign thing to many men, and almost all of them kiss far too hard. And then there is the way that many men do not bathe often enough, and they fall asleep right after and -- " Illya patted Smyrna's knee with a small laugh, "I understand you, my friend. I do not need the long list." He rolled his eyes, "Next you would complain to me about their beards." "And that is another thing!" Smyrna laughed, "Either a man shaves but he does not do it enough and takes the skin right off my face or my cunny, or he doesn't shave at all and his beard is in my face and I can smell everything that he has eaten over the past week. It puts a girl off the whole thing. How would you like to have a man's greasy beard in your face?" "I wouldn't," Illya smiled, "that is why I make love with women, well, one woman now." Smyrna put her arm around him. "You see? You and I have much in common. You are a true prize, Illya," she said as she took her arm away, "You even shave." She nodded, "I like you more every day." --------------------- After a break, they switched around and Yanna tied her horse to the back of the cart. Illya was certain that the beast was growing to love Yanna. The stallion sure didn't like the idea of following the cart, but for her, he went along with it. Smyrna rode her own horse, and Yanna drove the cart sitting with her husband. The cart horse was nervous about it, but soon settled down, perhaps remembering her smell from the night of their escape and how nothing had happened then. "Can you reach behind you and pull that blanket to you?" she asked. Illya brought it forward in a moment and Yanna leaned back slightly. "Now spread it over our legs, Illya. I see no reason why I cannot enjoy your little caresses as I drive. I will even try very hard to stay on the road at the same time." Illya laughed and before long, they had to endure the knowing glances and smirks of their friends riding ahead of them. "You know, I think that this is a fine way to travel," Yanna said, "I think that one day, we should get ourselves one of these carts." She leaned against him a little and smiled. "I want to ask you, "she said quietly, "what are your thoughts about what was said to us? Daggat told me that both would like to have us. Either of us." "Smyrna told me the same thing," Illya said, a little wide-eyed. "Well, it will not happen," Yanna said. "I have never wanted to be with a woman. Before I even think of something like that, I must come to love a person as a very close friend, I would think. Those two are slowly making me angry with their jokes and laughter over something that I cannot much help, though they have been kind. It does little to make me want them closer than they are to me. And while I might like the thought that you could lie with at least one of them, I am prepared to risk nothing of what is between us, Illya." He asked her, "I agree. Are you certain that it is not from a feeling or some worry that you might have that I would want a girl who looked like a woman on the outside?" "If it is so, I have to tell you, Yanna, that it plays little if any part in it for me. I am happy with you as you are. I made a friend in Khamazi who needed me and I fell in love with her there. I am happy. I live the dream of many men because of the way that we love and I know it. The difference is -- " Yanna interrupted him, "The difference is that you are brave enough to want to be seen together with me in the daylight in front of anyone and ... " She took a good look at the road ahead and then pulled his face to hers to kiss his cheek, "You are man enough to look anyone in the eye for it. I have seen your look and it makes me wet while my heart swells to bursting. Your eyes almost glow with your unspoken challenge then. It is as if you say, 'Yes. She is mine' with your eyes, and I am proud of you for that too. Other men might think they want me until they spend, but then they would never want to be seen with me. For those ones, I am only a want in their minds and I know it." "I need only one look at your face," she said, "one look, and I see that I hold your heart as you hold mine. That is something, Illya. That is enough for me. I need nothing more." ------------------------ By the middle of the afternoon, they pulled off the road and approached a farm set near to some woods. Smyrna nodded toward the house. "The people here are agents for the keep, and are far relatives to me." She went to the door, and after a short conversation, she returned and they rode on. "The same as ever, "she smirked, "not much love here for Smyrna. At least they will let us stay on the land tonight and the next if need be. There may be game to hunt if we are lucky, and I know a little waterfall and brook to bathe in here." "Why do they not love you if they are your family?" Yanna asked. "I was betrothed to one of their sons long ago, though I had no say in it," she said, "but I have no need of a drunkard's embrace, even if he was my cousin once removed. We never liked each other as children, but suddenly I was fine to him and worth marrying all because my tits grew in. He tried to court me, but really, he courted my jugs more than anything. When he tried to force me one night after drinking all evening to get up his courage, I almost killed him for it. He is dead now anyway." "What killed him?" Illya asked. "The edge of a spade between the eyes," Smyrna grinned, "driven by an angry man." "Ah," Sorn remarked suddenly, surprising them all that he'd spoken, "A murderous father?" "No," Smyrna laughed," a murderous farmer who caught him with one of his cows. I felt like a cow myself for a time after I thought about his attraction to udders." There was a fair amount of laughter from them all at that. Yanna looked around and noticed that even shy Besha smiled. "You are no cow, Smyrna," Illya remarked, "far from it." "Thank you, Illya," she laughed, "and you would be very close to a kiss for your kind words, but for your sweet girl's long claws there." ---------------------------- They found a good place to pitch their tents, but Besha and Sorn drew a few looks from the rest when they set about pitching theirs a little way off from the others. Daggat, Illya and Yanna walked over to ask them why, thinking that they might feel a little uneasy and outside of the group. Sorn looked a bit uncomfortable for a moment. Until now, his normal way would have been to say nothing in answer, but he remembered that they were trying for a new start. "Look here," he said, awkwardly, "I do not know a way to say this well, but Besha and I have been apart for years. There is much sadness between us, but we try now to begin again. It may come that we begin to love between us, at least I hope that it might be so for I love her more than my life." Besha nodded and hugged him, "It will be, Sorn. I have struggled long enough." She tried to smile a little, "We both even find our voices again for each other and I have made my decision. It will be as it once was between us again." She turned to Yanna. "I have heard of what happened to you both. I can say that I know what it is to want your man and not be able to have him as you did, from what was told to me." Yanna nodded, "If it was like that for you, then I know. It is a very sad thing." "Twenty years, we have been apart," Besha said, "After Sorn found me, it was not something that I could just begin again. I have been badly treated for a long time," she looked up at Sorn with a soft smile, "but now, after so long, nothing matters. We have each other, and so he fears to disturb you all if we make sounds." She felt Daggat's hand on her shoulder as she laughed, "You still may wish to set your tent here, Besha. When these two begin, there is no sound that you could make that would disturb anything anymore." Yanna was a little embarrassed by the statement and made to turn away. She felt a hand on her wrist and saw Besha close to her. "Do not listen," she said quietly as Daggat joked, "a woman who is being loved well makes the sounds that she does. Some make none at all. If you have one who makes you cry out in your passion, you should be proud and thankful for it. Many women never find this. I made sounds myself long ago. They were the cause of my sorrow later and I have not made noises since. A slave who is forced feels no passion or joy." "Thank you, Besha," Yanna whispered, "I am getting tired of hearing these jokes, that is all. I make more sounds because of what I am, I think, but it is no reason to joke every day. I try to be quiet and Illya tells me to bite his shoulder then, but I have hurt him before, though he says nothing. If I work at being quiet all of the time -- " The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 08 The other woman smiled thinly, "Then it is not as good. I know. Enjoy what you have, Yanna. I can tell you that it can all be gone in an instant." She squeezed Yanna's wrist once and walked away. ---------------------- "There are signs all around us," Sorn said to Yanna and Illya, "I may not be a bowman such as you, but I can work a bow now and then." Illya smiled at the powerfully built man, and believed little of it. Sorn had made a life as a hired killer and Illya reckoned that using a bow had to come into it at least sometimes. "I will go a ways off that way and try to drive the game to you from the other side, "Yanna said, "try not to shoot the one who beats the bushes. I can be hard to see sometimes." They nodded and she left them. Yanna did indeed find deer there in the woods, but they always veered off whenever she tried to drive them to her husband and Sorn. Finally, she made the only other choice possible and they heard her snarl and the quick crashing a distance off as she brought down a doe. "A little help Illya," she called out to her husband. When they found her with their meal, she shrugged, "These ones are a little smarter. They would not go your way, so I had to do it like this. I can find the game and kill it, but it needs to be dressed since we want to eat as people, and I am not built to carry one as large as this. My shoulders are too small for it. I wanted a smaller one, but this one kept getting in the way." "This is a fine doe, "Sorn said to Yanna as he placed it over Illya's shoulders for the walk back, "I will stretch out the hide for you to begin the drying." "Unless Illya can think of a use, I have no need of it," she said, "I am a cat and it smells of dinner to me, that is all." Illya shook his head. He couldn't think of a way to use the hide, other than for bowstrings, and he had plenty of spares. Illya was strong enough to carry the carcass, but he was having a little trouble over the uneven ground and almost fell when he'd tripped over a root. "Here," Sorn said, and he easily took the doe from Illya and hefted it once to settle it before he began to walk along as though he wasn't carrying over a hundred pounds, "You must get it settled on you first. I see that you can carry her, but I think that I am a better pack horse for this. If you lived the way that I have heard, then you need a few months of good food and some work, and then you will look as lumpy as me," he grinned while both of them stared at his muscles. "You should change the way that you think, Yanna," Sorn said, "From this hide, you would get a small blanket all by itself. There is enough here for Besha to make herself a fine overdress for rough and cold days in the saddle." "Then please, "Yanna smiled, "give it to Besha. I would only like to see her in it when she is done. I have no knowledge of these things." The assassin nodded his thanks, but he looked at Yanna for a second, "I see that you do not wear much so that your movements are free, but I think there will be enough left over for her to make you something even so." ------------------- As they worked at dressing out the doe, Illya learned from Sorn as the older man explained what they were doing and why it had to be done this way. "Really," he said, "it would be best to hang this in a cool place away from animals for a few days to bring the best taste out, but we are here and so we must do what we can to make your woman's gift last over as many meals as we can get from it. I brought some salt so after the meal tonight, the rest will stay fresh for later." He let Illya work at it a little, but cautioned him when he got near to the sex of the doe. "Have a care in this part of her," he said, "both sexes have scent glands. It is worse with the stags. A slip of the knife and you ruin much of the meat. If you do not notice it and clean the knife right away, everything that is touched by the bladé will be foul." Illya nodded his thanks, not wanting to look up and make a mistake now. "I do not know much about blades or things like this," Illya said, "and I only come to the bow lately." He grunted with a bit of the effort, "I would know of these things now. I am to be one of the keep's army, I suppose. I have no wish to look like a fool at the outset of everything, but I guess that it cannot be helped." Sorn admired the young man and found that he liked his spirit and his open way of talking. "I can teach you, Illya," he said, with a chuckle, "I have a little experience, it seems. The first thing that you need to know is that the blade there is sharp. You are doing all of the work and the fine edge that I put on that knife is loafing here because of it. May I show you?" Illya nodded and handed the knife over before wiping his brow with his forearm. He stared a moment later as he watched it go like butter. "Look here," Sorn said, indicating the muscles of his own arm, "Truly, I am not working very hard here, am I? It is in the way that you hold it, and mostly, it is in the angle that you cut at." They switched again, and it went much easier now that Illya had a clue. He grinned at Sorn and thanked him. "I had to show you," he said, "in another moment, you would have tried to force it and then you would have slipped and likely cut yourself deeply. It happens to most of us the first times. "He indicated the scars on his own arms with a laugh, "I learn slower than you, lad. See how many lessons that it took." Illya grinned, "I am not that innocent, Sorn. I know that what you wear there comes mostly from fighting." "Some of it does, lad," he chuckled, "but look here," he pointed to his left hand and an old scar there. "I did this just as you were about to learn the same lesson. A little deeper, and I would have cut my own tendons. A fine fighter and assassin I would have made then." They finished the work and then went to the pool to wash off the blood and grime which covered them. Yanna and Besha had just finished scraping and stretching out the doe's hide. "Come," she said to Yanna with a mischievous little grin, "let us go and watch the bathers." He didn't know where it came from, but Ilya found that he had to try hard not to look at Sorn's body as they bathed. If the other man noted it, he made no sign, but he stopped once to talk with Illya and then Illya saw that Sorn's eyes took in everything about him, just as they seemed to see every detail in whatever he looked at. But he wasn't looking at the shore. Neither of them noticed that Yanna and Besha stood on the bank, watching their men with interest. "I just love to see him with no clothes," Besha whispered, "to me, he is like a different man, though I can still see the one who I ached to hold to me. I still want him." Yanna nodded as she brought her head close to answer, "I am the same. I think that I could watch naked men all the day, but the one that I like to see the most is the one who loves me." Sorn said, "I meant what was said, Illya. You only need some weight on you as muscle. You are very much like I was once, the way that you are built. I meant nothing in my words to shame you. Your wife gave us a good-sized doe. If you were alone with her there, I know that you could have carried it, but I thought that if I carried it, then we could walk quicker and get to the butchering. With that done now, there is less to think about, no?" "Thank you," Illya answered, "I felt no shame. I am glad that you offered." Besha pulled Yanna close, "I cannot believe how much Illya looks as Sorn did long ago. He is just the same, though with longer hair. You should be proud, Yanna. He is a beautiful man." Illya struggled for a moment, "Sorn, I, ... I would ask you, did you mean it when you said that you might teach me a little? I know next to nothing about blades." Illya felt rather intimidated this close to a rather well-known assassin, but he found himself drawn to him in fascination and he was pleased that, now that Sorn would speak to him and not hold himself so aloof, he found that he liked the man. It didn't change the fact that Illya was in awe of him, but if there was something to be learned, Illya wanted to know it. "I am very proud of him, Besha, and I tell it to him every night," Yanna whispered. "Good," the older woman said, "But watch now, Sorn is right. Illya needs more muscle on him. He will look like Sorn one day as he is now." "So?" Yanna grinned, "I love the man inside him, as much as it stirs me to see him like this. If he will look like Sorn and have that one's body, well, I think that I can live with that easily. You have reason to be proud as well. Not many men look that good to a woman at his age, and I am nineteen. If I fell over him and I was not a cat or married..." Besha smirked, "Now you are just being kind, but I thank you and I am proud. How many men would have done what he did? I owe him much, for I was ready inside myself to give up and welcome my death by the slaver's hand, for that would have come soon." She turned to the younger woman, "Thank you. You try hard to pull me out of my dark shell. I like you for it." Yanna sighed, "I must learn to be craftier, Besha. Everyone can see through my plots." They smiled at each other and then turned to look at their men again. Sorn nodded, "We can begin now if you wish, well, after we are clean. What do you wish to learn, fighting or the other work that I can do?" "Both, "Illya said with a shrug, "all that I seem to know is how to place an arrow close to where I wanted it to go." "That is no small thing, lad," the man said, "Many spend their lives at it and never get there. For the long shots such as I have heard that you can make often, I think that you should teach me. I am no stranger to the bow myself, but my shooting is often done with a lighter bow from closer than that." He thought about it for a moment. "Here," he smiled, as he gripped Illya's shoulder for a moment, "this is the proof of my words. You are lean out of being poor and that is no crime. I was in the same place once. But even so, you draw your heavy war bow and make the shot most often. It says that you have the strength, just as I did then. Now what you need is the power, and that is another thing completely. It was said to me that I am to teach what I know at the keep. I see no reason why I cannot take an eager student now." Illya looked at the bank and smiled. Sorn followed his gaze and the women waved at them with grins. "Now that is a lovely sight." "Yes," Illya nodded. "We heard that there were naked men to be seen," Besha shrugged, "and so we could not help ourselves and came to look. There will be enough of the deerhide left to make Yanna something small so that she is at least a little dressed. Take a little time to show Illya some of what he seeks to know, but do not be too long, Sorn. We must begin the meal soon." He nodded and they watched their women walk away together. "And Sorn!" Besha called back. They looked at the pair of beautiful women who turned back a little. "We were not disappointed in what we found, "she cried out with a laugh, "there are wondrous sights to be seen in the woods here!" ----------------------- Between the four women, the dinner was prepared easily, and Yanna learned a lot from the others, though she got more from Besha and listened intently to her advice. She was still mindful that it might be better to learn this more nomadic way of preparing food. Though she herself couldn't add anything to it, other than her desire to learn and her offers to help in any way. Sorn, Besha, Smyrna and Daggat, all had little ways to add to the meal, and everyone was pleased with it. It had gone all the way from a hasty meal in a camp to a feast. As they sat and enjoyed it, they began to talk more among the group and they told of some of their experiences. The older couple had many questions for the fighters about the keep and how life was lived there. This went on for a time, but Sorn and Besha offered only a little of themselves at a time, and never much, until finally Besha decided to speak. "I have heard many stories this night," she said, "and I am so happy that we have fallen in with such a group. I know that if we had made this journey alone, we would be much quieter between us, and I would not mind it because I have him now. But like this, I think that it is even better because we feel that we can speak here and not stand in the back and say nothing as we have so often done, long ago." She looked around uncertainly and then she looked to her man. He knew what might come. It would be a test, he thought, but maybe it was better to test it here than later in a place with more people, so he nodded to her. "We Martu are a people who are far-spread and because of that, we are a little different between us. I can see this in our company here, and it makes me proud for it. Sorn and I are from the deserts, and things are not much the same as they are here, or where we will go, I guess. The priestess said that few would judge us, and I wish to see now if it is so." She sipped a little beer that Sorn had thought to bring from her cup and looked around. What she saw there was encouraging nods, and so she took a deep breath and began. "My parents were not closely tied to our tribe because they came from another that was scattered in war. We came because my mother had far relations in the tribe. They tried to fit in, and when there was work or fighting to be done, they never stood back waiting to be asked. But one day when I was about fourteen, there was a hard fight with a tribe of Akkadians. My parents never returned and only my brother and I were left." "My brother was seventeen then, but because we were not close to anyone in the tribe and no one wished to take care of us, it was decided that he would act as the head of our family between us so that we might carry on as a family. He was the Ba'al and I was the child and we lived like that. That way, no other family would be burdened with taking care of me, as old as I was for a child, and anyway, he was too young to go on his own, but together, it was clear that we could manage. We could not join in any fights, though we had both learned from our parents, but I could make the jewelery that our tribe was famous for, and between us, we could hunt for our food and we lived well, for a pair of almost-grown children such as we were. We had to do everything for ourselves, but we managed it." "But as hard as we tried, we could never fit in. Our contributions to the tribe were accepted, but in all of the social things, we found ourselves on the outside and were never invited to join in anything. The tribe would celebrate at a feast, or because of a wedding, but we were never invited. My brother found no girls in the tribe who wanted a poor struggling boy, and we certainly had no way to save for a dowry to offer to any boy who might be interested in marrying me when I was of age. It didn't matter anyway," she said, "for there were no boys whose parents would allow their sons to wed one from as poor and little-known as my family, such as it was." "I think that what we should have done was as my brother said to me. He said that there was still game in the area, and we now had a few cattle anyway, so the next time that the tribe moved on, he said that we should just stay there, since we got nothing from the tribe. I didn't know better and I disagreed with him. The way that we made decisions between us was that for something like that, we had to agree." "So we remained with the tribe and moved when they did. I have regretted it ever since." "Finally, just after my eighteenth birthday, we sat together after our evening meal as sad as ever and we realized that we would never be accepted there. Neither of us had even one friend. Everyone else was dancing and celebrating a victory while we sat alone. Four years we had gone on, a family of two and we had gained only a little for all of our trying and hard work. I began to cry. My brother and I were very close from the way that we had to live and look after each other, and he tried to comfort me, and ..." She looked around her at the others, "we just realized that we loved no one else but each other anyway. It made us happy to know it at last, but it gave us a big problem that had no answer." She looked around herself then for a few seconds longer. "I was no longer the child. I was old enough for it then, and I hope that I say nothing to offend any here, but I will say that he and I began to love together and that night I became his woman. We knew that it was against the teaching of the tribe elders and it was forbidden, but what else could we do? There were none who wanted either of us. And anyway, we found that it was so good between us and so we just carried on as we always had in the daytime, but now at night and in the dark we were as husband and wife." Sorn stopped her at that point. He looked around the fire in a slightly challenging way out of a desire to protect Besha, but he saw no hostility there. They spoke to each other in their dialect, and Sorn continued. "I will finish it," he said, "for I know the rest, and for Besha to tell it will only make her cry again, and she has had too many years of that. The pair were found out after a few months and the village elders pronounced them to be evil and wicked. One far-uncle and his wife now had them thrown out of the family. They hadn't even seen them for a year and they lived only yards away. But that was not the end of it. Both were kept away from each other and driven off with nothing weeks apart while the Ba'al of the tribe took all of their possessions, what little money they had and their cattle. The girl found another tribe and became a whore very quickly with no other way to support herself and the boy wandered the wastes looking for her. The tribe where she was allowed to sell herself was overrun one night long after, and the girl became a slave for many years. The brother only heard that the tribe was scattered with many women killed. He thought that his sister was dead from a description of a woman's body that was told to him and he finally gave up his search." He shook his head sadly, "The girl made her mistake wanting to stay with that cursed tribe, and the boy made his when he gave up looking for her." "I found Besha in a slaver's stall and I could not believe what I thought that I saw and so I tried to speak with her." He looked at himself and shrugged, "I have lived a hard life, though it was far better than hers. I do not look much like anyone that Besha knew of that tribe or anywhere else that she had been. But after only a few words and the way that she looked to me, I knew that it must be her and so I paid the price for her and tried to take care of her, while she tried to think of why a stranger might seek to deceive her this way. She spoke very little anyway and almost nothing to me. I saw that she did not believe me, and so I waited until we were at the inn before I showed her a mark on me that she could recognize." "Every night since then, we have held each other and cried. Besha says now that she wants an end of it so that we can begin again and I welcome this. With this journey, I want to show her that I will never leave her side again." He sighed, "So much time has gone, but now out of blind luck and fortune, I have my sister again. I have hunted every one of those who took from us, who robbed us, and who caused us our misery out of nothing that we had done to anyone. They are all dead. We will go to this fortress now and see if things are truly as it was told to us. Nothing matters anymore, and we will never be parted again. I only hope that we may find our own peace between us again. It is all that I want now." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 08 They looked at the others to see if they'd be rejected. Sorn was prepared to pull down their tent if he had to and they'd ride off into the darkness to find another home for themselves where no one knew them, but Illya reached out his arms to take theirs and he said, "I hope that you find your peace together. No one will tell what you have said. For myself, I think it would be the wisest thing to keep your past as a secret between you, but you do as you must." Smyrna nodded, "I have lived at Jebel Bishri for a long time. Something like this, what is between you, would not cause you to be left outside, no. But it might make some who you could have as good friends otherwise keep their distance over something that does not concern them and that they cannot help. There are many places where Daggat and I are looked at askance. Look at the fine young couple with us here and try to remember that you have spent hours now in the company of a furry beauty and the handsome man who holds her heart. In their own way, they are both very brave." Yanna was next to Besha and leaned closer to her. She wrapped her hand around the woman's wrist and squeezed once, "Illya and I cannot hide what we are and what we do together, and while it may be said that I am a girl -- and I certainly am inside me, my husband still fucks with a large cat every night," Yanna said. "How many people can there be in the world who would not have done the same as you in a place where there was no one else for them? There certainly are none who would not have had the thought of it. It only happened that you loved each other so much that it likely had to be anyway." "But that does not make it anyone's business but your own," Daggat offered. "You have each other again. If anyone asks where you met, say that you knew each other as children and tell nothing of what happened later." She smiled at them warmly. "It doesn't matter to me that you are sister and brother if I look at you." She nodded, "I still see a fine pair in love. Before you point to your scars, I will say that you are only farther on the road than the rest of us here." "I wish that I had known you all when Sorn found me," Besha said very quietly, "For my part, I have my brother and we still love each other. I have blades again, clothes, and a fine horse. If we have even made some friends, then I cannot want for more." "Besha," Smyrna called quietly across the fire-pit, "Illya is right. None here would tell what we know and it still might be better to keep this quiet, but if you wonder if you might have us as friends," she laughed a little, "look around you for your answer." The others nodded and Smyrna joked that they were all at least a little different and Besha cried a little as she smiled. -------------------- Even before the city walls fell, many people walked or rode away. The city guard had no orders to stop anyone and only stood by. The exodus was quiet and orderly until a group of guardsmen tried to force a blockage of the main gateway by stupidly driving ahead into the sea of terrified people who were stuck there. Several people were trampled until the guards began to fall quietly and any guards who approached were found much later dead on the street as Shahbek and her killers plied their deadly trade in silence. A slim dagger through a joint in their leather and into the heart dropped a man more certainly than a sack of grain being set down and with less noise, other than at most, a shocked gasp from the victim. Now and then, one of the brighter ones among the guard noticed as a comrade went down without a sound and a quick, searching look would reveal what had happened. But before those ones could raise a cry or even make a sound, they would fall themselves, speared through by the blades of a black-haired woman in a cape who seemed to move easily in the crowd. A large man moved in the throng as well. He also wore a cape that hid his leather armor. Whenever the woman was faced with two attackers, he would slip into their way and the woman would move elsewhere, always looking for ones who saw what was happening, always seeking to protect the assassins. The man prevented her from losing time as she searched. She looked back once out of curiosity, and as two assailants approached the man, he pushed them back into the open to give himself a little room. They might have been a little brighter than the rest, but not by much. They should have raised the alarm, but they didn't as they got to their feet and came at the stranger with looks on their faces which showed their foolish intent. If they were only a little brighter, they'd have run. The woman watched as her man waited for them to come, judging when he would begin and, seeing his opening in their confident swagger, he changed his grip to a two-handed one and clove the left attacker completely through from shoulder to hip in one stroke, and then he spun to take the second one's head. She smirked, wondering just how much strength he had, for she'd never seen his limits yet in all of the time that they'd been together. He didn't stop to look at what he'd done. He had no need and worked as though he was cutting wood for the winter. He just looked for the next, and found two more near to him who had seen it all and now ran at him. The woman stood watching as she saw his long hair swing away from his face and from clear across the passageway, the priestess admired her warrior's smile as he worked. The general stepped to the right one and snapped up his sword arm at full extension to the side. His bracer caught his assailant long before his stroke really got anywhere and broke his nose, driving the cartilage toward the brain. Turning left, he was ready as the second one arrived. He stepped inside the man's stroke, wrapped three fingers of his sword hand, still with the sword, around the man's head to smash his face against the studded leather of his own left shoulder. Twisting, he drove his left fist into the first one's jaw, since he was standing there about to fall backward. Both went down like dead trees. It happened in less time than it takes for the average person to sneeze. Two strokes of the sword finished it and he moved on. The black-haired woman thought back to their first meeting and how she'd seethed in her hatred of him, completely out of hand. She remembered how he'd patiently tamed her even before they'd given themselves to each other. It had surprised her then how little he'd feared her, even though he knew that there was something in her to fear, and there would be far more once he'd given her the means to ascend as the High Priestess of a deadly cult. In the time that they'd been together, she'd learned much about him and seriously doubted that there was any fear in him at all. She knew that he'd been a fighter without hope for long years before and she wondered a little if this was how he could do the things that he did, fight the way that he did, laying down one foe after another, not for that purpose so much as the desire to move forward and be done. She thought about that now as she looked for where else she might be needed, and realized that it was past time that they showed each other again how they felt. Even here, in the middle of a bloody street as she helped, or killed guards, or even guided frightened people to the broken gates so that they could leave, it made her smile for another ability that he had. She felt her swollen lips rub together a little inside her armor as she walked and wanted to laugh. Even here, in the middle of the death and the chaos in the fall of a city, she was wet for him. ------------------- The moon was full over the river as two people bathed and then walked to the rear of a large tent in the shadows of a sea of tents. One of them lifted the bottom edge and they slipped inside together. A sentry was left with instructions to wake the pair if certain events occurred and the two found themselves bathed in the light of a pair of oil lamps. "Has it been a good day, warrior?" the woman smiled, "I think that we come to the end of another part of the plan." Yes," he nodded, "the king is dead, the city is a breath away from being won, and needs only slow king Enmerkar to claim it. Even now, the foul city guard are being hunted, and even if Enmerkar chooses to lose his little mind and think to attack us here he only dooms himself. I could not have played my part without you, Priestess." She sat down next to where he lay and began to run her hands over his body. "Well all of that is good," she said softly, "we have been so busy both together and apart, that there is one part of our lives that has gone wanting." "Aye," he nodded as he smiled and caressed one of her breasts. "But it was just as I said that it would be when we planned this. I told you that there would not be much time for it as both of us had to seem to be in different places at once, often even at night." "Have we some time for ourselves now then?" she smiled as her voice grew softer. "Are you hopeful now, Beauty? I can make time for you until the morning." "I am always hopeful for many things, Warrior. It is a large part of being a priestess. To lie with my fighter," she said with a sigh as she leaned to kiss his lips, "I make time gladly." They still spoke quietly to each other after she'd straddled him. Nisi-ini-su groaned quietly as she ran her wet sex along the length of his shaft so slowly that he wondered if she moved at all. He listened to her soft sighs as she worked them both so subtly. It seemed to take forever and Lugalbanda loved her for it. "I would have thought, "he whispered, "that a pair such as we are would love much harder the first time since we have had no time in the last week for it." She raised her hands and he could see that she prayed, but she still had enough attention to speak slowly to him as she went. "The only thing that I begrudge is the timing, my friend, and that only a little. We can do it any way that you like, but this -- right here, right now, "she sighed. "As we have done for the past two months, this is where I pray that we are making what we wish to make between us. I am praying, and we are loving for a son." She raised herself up and moved him a little so that they could join and after their groans as he entered her, she asked him to join her mind in the one place where it was possible to pray, converse, and make love together. His hands began to move in patterns which matched hers. To anyone who might have seen them, they were not moving at all, or at most, only a tiny amount now and then, but on the inside, this was one of their favorite ways to please each other. The hard loving would come to them in an hour or so. This was their way to begin it, a long and almost silent beginning, punctuated by her soft sighs. ---------------------------- They'd let the fire burn low. Sorn and Besha had already begun their quiet and tentative renewal in each other's arms. Now and then, a soft cry or gasp came to everyone's ears from their tent. "My heart feels for them," Daggat said in a half-whisper, "so long apart and with so little, I hope now that they can have what they wanted long ago. Surely everyone deserves a little happiness." There was a louder cry and Smyrna grinned. "I almost wish that I could see them, "she said, "Their people are famous for loving well." She noticed the looks from her companions. "It is true," she smiled; "they are assassins of the highest kind. They make us look like fools next to them. I am sure that Besha and her man did not learn it as part of any training because they were so young then, but they must be familiar with the importance of knowing it. He must have learned as he taught himself, for he is well-known for his killing ability and that is very often done with a kiss at the same moment. Sometimes it is all in getting close to the one that you would kill. The best way to do that is to get into bed with them. Besha has learned her own lessons if she was a whore at some time as you have heard. We could all likely take lessons from them there as well." She looked at Illya, "And the work is the work, no matter what. If the target happens to like loving the same sex, well, that is another thing that must be learned, that is all." Yanna and Illya wished the others a good night and went to their tent. "No lamp tonight, husband. I want it dark tonight." she warned him, "I love to talk quietly in your arms." After some minutes, she pulled his hand lower down on her belly. "Use your fingers for a little while." He nodded and they whispered to each other. "I think that I am making a friend in Besha," she said, "I like her very much and we seem to have things in common." She kissed her husbands' ear and licked there a little as she purred softly. "She seems to know just when I need her soft comments and it is a little like she is as a guide to me." "I think that they both hold so much wisdom," Illya sighed as she stroked him, "I felt like a boy next to Sorn, but I listen to what he tells me and I learned much from him today. If it is like that for you with Besha, then I am glad." "We were admiring both of you in the pool there," Yanna smiled in the darkness, "As we walked away, Besha and I agreed that we are among the luckiest of women to have men like you." She sighed, "It is a little strange to me, Illya. I had many friends in Khamazi, but I have never known one like her." "I know only a little of their people," he said, "but I know that they live their lives a little closer to the magic than many of us. They tie it to their lives, their loves, how they love and how they fight. It must make things a little complicated -- at least for one as simple as me." "You are not simple," she breathed into his ear before she licked it just to feel him shiver for a moment, "Shahbek says that you are as Sorn was. Besha told me that you are just as Sorn was in your body and that you will look like him in your body later. My luck grows every day." Yanna kissed him for many minutes until she rolled off her husband onto her side. "Do you want me, Illya?" she asked as she raised her leg. She didn't wait for his answer. "Come here." He raised his body to get over her knee and they slid together. "You are very wet," he said in a little surprise as they began. "I know it," she sighed, "I have been thinking of you naked in the pool. It was good to see. I like it when I can see you with no clothes on your fine body." They went on for a little while very slowly. She chuckled, "I wanted to go to you in the pool there and help you. I would have too, but for the others." Illya was confused, "I needed help?" "Yes," Yanna breathed into his ear, "You saw me and after that you were trying to stay in the water that was over your hips, remember?" He groaned at the memory. "Was it that easily seen?" She chuckled for a moment and then groaned in her pleasure. "I am your wife. I know it when my husband is beginning to swell and you were, Illya. I don't know if Besha noticed, but I am at least a little sure that Sorn saw it. I wanted to go to you and kiss you so that you would harden and then I wanted to surprise you." "What would you have done, Yanna?" She smiled and kissed him for a moment, enjoying the thoughts in her mind. "I would have knelt right there in the water and sucked." She giggled and kissed him a little more. "It is no little thing if you remember what I am. I will swim if I must, and bathe to stay clean, but stay in water? Kneel in it? Pht! Not me," she chuckled. "I wish that we were here alone now, "he said, "We could have done it standing up with no flies driving us mad." "I want to do that soon," she whispered with a little grunt as she shifted her position slightly, "not yet, but soon. We only have to find a way to keep Sorn and Besha from seeing us. Smyrna and Daggat will not be here, remember? Do you want me there in the sunshine?" Sorn and Besha will likely be busy themselves," Illya sighed, "They have been apart for so long. I know what I would want to do then." Yanna's movements were getting just a little more urgent. "You have not answered me, husband," she said, "now tell it to me true. Do you want me there in the sunshine?" Illya gave up the fight when he felt her fingers and claws slide along his flanks. "Yes!" he hissed in her ear, and they began to fuck furiously. As they rolled apart minutes later, she rolled back onto her side and he felt her hand slide up his chest before she touched his cheek. "You are the finest man that I could ever imagine." She pulled herself onto him and began to lick his nipple the way that she'd found made him squirm helplessly under her. ----------------- In the soft light of the morning, Yanna woke and had to urinate. She stepped out of the tent and looked around as she ran her fingers down the stiff and matted fur on her belly and decided that, cold morning or not, she wanted a bath to wash Illya's semen away for another day, but first. ... As she squatted there in the grass, she saw the flap of the other tent lift up and Besha wandered out, looking obviously well-loved, and beautifully wanton, if not anywhere near awake. To Yanna's surprise, Besha walked closer, looking only at the ground before her. "Besha," Yanna hissed quietly. The woman looked up suddenly, "Yanna!" "I had to say something, Besha. You looked as though you would have sat on me to pee otherwise." Besha shrugged, "I guess that I might have at that." She wished Yanna a good morning, and to Yanna's surprise, Besha squatted before her and let go. Yanna found herself looking right at Besha making water not more than four feet away. "I suppose that I should be more demure here, but I really need to do this now. Please pardon me." They grinned a little out of embarrassment as they watched each other. "I feel like we are two young girls here," Yanna said quietly. It made Besha chuckle, "I only wish that I was a young girl once more, but instead, I am just an old woman." "You are not old," Yanna said, "I think that you are lovely." It almost made the older woman snort, but she knew that Yanna thought well of her. "Thank you, Yanna, but I am likely old enough to be your mother. I have many scars on me from being whipped." She looked down and smirked, "I didn't see the benefit when I was young, but I am only glad now that my tits were always small. Without that, they'd hang on me now." They walked to the pool under the little waterfall together. "Besha," Yanna said quietly, "please listen to me. I know that I am young to you and like many young people, I must seem to you as though I know little or nothing. I try my best not to feel too stupid near you. I like to watch you and learn from you. I am sad at how you were treated, but I want to say that the tattoos that you have are wondrous to me and I could sit all the day to look at them. They seem to move on you and it catches my eye and then I am fascinated, but then I am a cat and easily fascinated," she shrugged with a grin. "If it is not too close to you, why were you whipped?" Besha shrugged, "I was whipped by different people at different times, depending on who owned me. It might have been for something that I did or didn't do, but it was not more than a few strokes and it was never hard, so there were really no scars from that. Almost all of the scars on me were from a Sumerian woman who owned me. She liked the love of anyone, but she liked it with women the best. If she had no other lover, then it was me." She rolled her eyes, "It was me most often. She hated me because I had to let her do what she wanted with me, but I was always impassive. I never liked letting her have me because I had no choice in it. Even if it felt a little nice, I never let her see it." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 08 She sighed, "The trouble was that she liked to hurt me. At first, she would whip me, saying that I didn't lick and suck her well enough. Sometimes, she would whip me saying that I had done it too well and that now she was numb because of it." She snorted quietly, "No one cared a fig that my lips were numb every day from doing something for an old sow with a shrill voice that no one else wanted to do for her. But after a while, I knew that she just liked to hurt me no matter what I did or didn't do. By that time, I was tired of my life anyway, and one day, I just refused to do anything for her anymore. I told her that I didn't care if she killed me. She whipped me as I knelt there on my knees with my head down. I only wished for a sharp blade and a little slack in my chains so that I might kill her. At last, she left me alone long enough for my back to heal and then she took me to the trader and handed me over as part payment on a younger girl." "I felt sorry for the girl, but she is free now anyway. Sorn found me and bought me so that we could be together again and then he hunted the bitch who did this to me. He has not told me, but I know him. He must have whipped that one to death. That is harder to do than it sounds, Yanna, but Sorn is patient." They gasped as they stepped into the cold water. "I did not need to wake up this badly," Besha grumbled. She looked at Yanna and together they looked at the waterfall. "Well?" she asked her young friend, "Are we ready for this? I need to wash my hair. You may have to drag a frozen old woman out." "Come on," Yanna smirked, "I have to wash my hair as well, and I have longer hair. It means that I will need to be under that longer than you. I also wear Illya's seed in a few places. I do not mind it, but it is a stiff reminder in my fur the next day so I will have to wash it out." "Is he good for you?" Yanna laughed, "He is a dream to love with. I only grumble about my fur, not my man." It was cold. Absolutely, brutally, icy freezing cold as they stood there, but after a moment, they decided that it might go better if they helped each other with their hair so that they could get out sooner. They stood on the bank shivering. "That was awful," Besha groaned, "We should have done that later in the day. I cannot hold still." Yanna pulled her close and hugged her, "Well it is your luck to have a fur-covered friend. I am just as cold and wet, but if we hug each other, my fur will get us warmer quickly." Besha nodded and held on, putting her head on Yanna's shoulder. "Thank you. We should have thought it out better and brought something to dry off a little with. I cannot go into the tent like this now. I will drip on Sorn and his poor heart will stop from the shock." "Did it go well for you last night?" Yanna asked. "Yes," her friend nodded with chattering teeth, "It was like it was so long ago. We are older now, but our love is still there and it even grows. I am very thankful." "Besha," Yanna said softly, "I want to say to you that I am happy to have your friendship. I also want to say that you will never be old enough to be my mother. You would need to be thirty-five to have birthed me and I know that you are not that old." "Ha," Besha snorted quietly, "I never knew that three years would make all the difference." She smiled, "You have no reason to feel stupid. Sorn and I do not see either of you this way. We are happy to help you if we can. He told me that he was proud to be asked by Illya to teach him, and he said that he will make Illya a mighty fighter if he has the chance at the keep and if Illya keeps showing him that he has the heart as he does here. We both like you very much. The friendship that you show counts for much to a pair who have lived without friends all of our lives." Yanna hugged Besha tighter for a second, "Thank you for that. Illya and I are lucky because we were given a few things to begin, but we sometimes do not know how to begin to make our lives together. We are different and he is brave to walk anywhere with me and hold my hand, but we still have little idea of how it will go. I think that is why we look to you so much." She smiled, "I had a dream of you last night, though it was short. In my dream, you were my mother. I would have liked to have one like you for a mother. I did not appreciate what my mother did for me because I never knew what I had until after. Even so, she was not much fun. I know that you had nothing and a hard life, but in a better dream, I would love to be your daughter. I do not know why I think this way, but I like it." Besha looked up, "I can see that you mean that. That is a nice thought, Yanna. I would have liked that too. I came with you yesterday as one who would not speak much, thinking that no one wanted to hear what I might have to say, but you make me laugh and smile and I almost think of you that way." "Do you mean that? Even as I am?" Besha nodded, "You are truly lovely, Yanna, and if I look, I can even see you as a girl. I would be proud to have a daughter like you, just as you are. But we cannot do that, so I think that I have a lovely grown --up young friend who begins to feel like my daughter to me. And I see the way that you try to learn from me. You can ask anything of me. If I can, I will help you. But I think that I see one thing in you where you shouldn't fear at all -- you are already a fine wife to Illya." Yanna smiled at Besha and leaned down to nuzzle her neck for a moment. Besha flinched and pulled away laughing a little. "Ah," Yanna grinned, "My friend is ticklish." Besha tried to pull away, but Yanna was very strong and held her only enough to nuzzle once more very briefly and then she left a quick kiss behind on the woman's cheek. Besha smiled up a little curiously, "Why?" She watched as Yanna looked at her shyly, "I hope I did nothing wrong, I just like you very much, and what you said made me happy. I am a cat, after all. You would fall over if I tried to rub myself against your legs, and what would happen if I tried to walk between them?" They had trouble laughing quietly for a few moments after that. Besha looked at the feline face in front of her and moved her arms higher. "I like you too, Yanna. I have never known anyone like you, and I mean that other than the way that you look. Thank you for your friendship. It means much to someone like me." She kissed the side of Yanna's face quickly. She turned and smiled, "Come, let's see about making some kind of morning meal, since we are up and shivering." They began to walk back together. Yanna looked down in surprise but smiled when Besha took her hand to hold. "Now I feel like a young girl again," she said, "I think that is the last time that I had a friend and I felt like this." It wasn't long before they had a meal ready for the others and began to wake the late sleepers. ---------------------- Daggat and Smyrna got their gear on and left to ride to the farm where Smyrna had been born. Illya began his second set of lessons at the hands of Sorn. The two friends sat together by the fire and talked of many things. Besha stood up and went to her tent for a moment. Coming back, she said, "I have been looking at your hair all the morning," she said, "and I can stand it no longer. It is long and lovely, but it needs a little care. Let's walk to the pool and I will comb it out for once, and I know that I will feel better for it. I have a spare comb for you and you will use it every day, Yanna. You should use what you were given." Yanna was touched, but she was still curious. "Why must we go to the pool for that? Can't we just do that here?" "We can," Besha laughed a little, "but I think that what Sorn must be teaching Illya will be hot and sweaty work. If I were him, I would want to stay a little close to the pool to cool off now and then. We might see more naked men if we stay there." ---------------------- Yanna and Besha sat together in the sunshine watching their men. Besha had worked a while at it, but now Yana's hair was untangled and it shone in the sun. She put a few thin braids in it and had Yanna stand in the water to see the result. By the time they got back to where they'd been sitting, their men came to the pool. The women sat and said little aside from some smiling whispered comments as they watched Sorn and Illya sit in the water for a few minutes discussing the lessons. Illya had many questions and Sorn answered them one after another. Yanna snorted a little as the men left to begin again, "Illya says that he is simple." "I hope you didn't believe him," Besha smiled, "He is very bright. Anyone can see this." Yanna shook her head as she stretched out on her back in the warm sunshine, "Not for a moment." They talked about life and anything that came to them and as sometimes happens, they began to speak of sex. Yanna looked over, "I want to ask about something. Do you know anything about ..." Besha waited patiently, but Yanna lost her nerve and looked away feeling foolish. Besha looked down and moved some of Yanna's hair from her eyes. "I know a lot about almost anything that two people can do with each other, Yanna. I think that I must have seen it all and done most of it, though never for myself until last night. What is it that troubles you?" Yanna fought with herself and then just asked. Besha listened and smiled. "Easily taught and easily done once you know," she said. "Do you want to learn this?" -------------------------- Sorn stopped teaching when he saw Yanna and Besha walking toward them. "You have had Illya to teach all the morning, Sorn. I need him to teach my own lesson now. May I?" "Of course, Yanna," he smiled, "and what would you teach?" Yanna took Illya's hand, "Come. You need to learn that the chance to spend some of a warm sunny day naked in a meadow with a girl who loves you is not a thing to be wasted." Sorn smiled and nodded, "Then he is yours. He grows a little tired anyway and could use a rest from this." A long while later, Yanna began to urge and beg him, and Illya worked harder. She reached forward and helped herself a little, but was never too insistent. Her orgasms were pleasant and seemed to come from all over her as they caused her to tighten her muscles. Illya felt it and it took him closer to his own release. When he felt it beginning to get near, he gently pulled Yanna's hand so that her fingers could get to her sopping sex and she spread her fingers so that she could feel him slide in and out of her. He wet his fingers and caressed her nub. Yanna threw back her head and howled, but it was only a short one. She wailed and screeched as she bucked and she tried desperately to call his name. Illya began to pound her as gently as he could and her cries then raised the hair on his neck until he groaned and squeezed her clitoris as much as he dared without hurting her. Yanna went as rigid as a plank when her last orgasm hit her. She made sounds that she hadn't even heard from herself before. As the last strong waves died away, leaving little tremors, Illya made a sound that seemed to come from some pain, though it really didn't, and Yanna whimpered as she felt his contractions while he pumped into her. "You grow so big," she gasped. "Deeper, "she whispered to him, "as deep inside me as you can go, Illya. Pull me to you, anything, I love you so." She didn't have much leverage, but she tried hard to get her legs around him further. She sighed, "Stay like this, Illya. Please do not leave me yet." Illya looked down at her face. He had to shift his weight carefully, but he touched her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I love you," he whispered. They didn't move for a while. Illya slid out of Yanna in spite of what they both wanted, and they took a minute or so to slowly untangle themselves. "Did you enjoy your gift in the sunshine?" She asked. He nodded, "Where did that come from?" He asked, "I was very surprised." He kissed her for a moment, "And I like what you have done to your hair, Yanna." "That was from Besha," she said, "She told me to take better care of what I have, and she did this for me." She laughed, "I was trying to think of little ways to make it better for us when we play, and it is such a nice day. I love doing this with you outside more than anywhere else. Besha and I were talking and I thought to ask her if she knew some ways, and she did and then she asked me if I might want to learn of it. So she told me how it must be done." She chuckled, "I am very glad of her help. I want to kiss her for that." Illya shrugged, "Then kiss her, Yanna, at the least to tell her our thanks." "It is alright, Illya? I like her very much and she never makes sport over the noises that I make. I begin to feel close to her and ..." He hugged her, "It is alright. I think that she needs a close friend too. It makes me smile to see you together with her. Such beautiful women, you are." "Thank you, Illya." "I know," he sighed with a smile, "You love me so." They stood up and Yanna put her arm around Illya as they wandered to the pool to bathe. By then, they heard the soft cries from the other tent. --------------------- Illya and Yanna worked to prepare a meal for the afternoon. They'd found some mushrooms and a few wild scallions, a huge patch of chives, and some yams. They weren't certain about the mushrooms, so these were set aside. As Illya stirred up and added wood to the fire-pit, he noticed Besha and Sorn on their way to the pool, so he called out to let them know about the meal. When they came back, Sorn looked at the mushrooms and nodded, "These are fine. There is another type that is similar, but they are deadly." Illya sliced the mushrooms and they went into the pan. "Illya," Sorn said, "I want to know if you want to learn the ways of silent death as well as fighting. If you do not mind the work and like a little excitement, it can give you a good living. There are always some who want others killed over a thousand reasons. I would teach it if you have no trouble with it." "I do not know, "Illya replied, "I have heard that one must sometimes lie in bed with the one to be killed." Sorn nodded, "Many times, - even most times, I would say, it is the best way to do it silently. One cannot come crashing through the door. But to be good at it, one must know ways to please the one that you seek." "I think that is another thing that bothers me, "Illya replied, "what if the one is a man?" "Then you please him before you kill him," Besha said, "the same as if it were a woman that you were hunting -- unless you think that you can live well on half the pay. And anyway, it would soon be known that Illya cannot kill a man in a bed, and your customers would go elsewhere, thinking that you lacked other abilities. For those who seek to have another killed, it is important for them to think that you can do anything." "Think on it a little," Sorn smiled, "I will not teach it if it is not what you wish to learn." ------------------- The sunny afternoon drifted by. Sorn taught Illya ways to grapple and how to gain the advantage quickly. He learned ways to strike that would cause an opponent to gasp in pain for a moment, and during that moment, Sorn showed Illya the ways to finish the fight in an instant. It was a lot to learn and Illya's brain was a little overwhelmed, but Sorn only smiled and said that the lessons would be repeated several times later, since it would take some weeks to learn properly. Yanna was on her side facing Besha as they spoke of how she should manage her household. Yanna's eye was drawn often to Besha's tattoos. "Do you know how to fight as well, Besha? I think that you must have learned it." The woman nodded, "I had to. But I have never worked as Sorn does. There are many women who know the ways of silent death, and sometimes you must fight close up if things go wrong." She looked at Yanna, "But I do not think that you wish to learn something like that from me, Yanna. You have your own ways, no? I think that you only need to learn to be silent and you would make a good -- " Yanna shook her head, "No, Besha. I would only leave a mess most times. Even if I could keep quiet, one look at the body, and it would be known how it happened. Any who sought the killer would only need a look at me and they would know." "True," Besha nodded, "I didn't think of that." Yanna moved closer and put her arm over the older woman, "Thank you for your help from Illya and me," she whispered and she kissed Besha's cheek softly. Besha smiled, "It was my pleasure. Sorn and I wish you both much joy and happiness together. What was the cost to me? A half an hour talking to my friend here in the grass to pass some of what I know so that she and her husband can feel more joy? That is no hardship." She leaned closer to whisper as if what she was about to say was deliciously naughty, "If we have more of the chance for it, I will tell you more." She chuckled, "I will teach you wonders about loving your man, and then I just might talk to him as well. And if I cannot, then Sorn will tell him of these things." She grinned, "It is my hope that I can turn you both into slaves to each other in your bed. You might be poor, or all manner of misfortune may befall you, but if I have my way, you will always have each other." She looked serious for a moment, "Remind me to tell you that you must both stop to eat now and then." ----------------------- "There, " Sorn said in a whisper as he and Illya walked to the pool. "look at that." They stopped and stood watching Yanna and Besha as they sat talking and laughing in the grass. Illya chuckled, "I think they hatch some plot. What do you think, Sorn?" "I think," the man said with a little grin, "that our girls do not need us for the moment. I have been thinking that something like this might happen. They seem to need each other in a way, and are always together. Until they found each other, I was pulling Besha out of her darkness only a little at a time. Now, she is much more like she was before and I think it is Yanna who does this." "I think it goes both ways," Illya said, "Because of what was done to her, I saw that Yanna felt apart from everyone. She is getting to like herself, and Besha always encourages her. Yanna told me this herself. I am glad that they are so close in so little time." He grinned, "I have learned that women need other women around them to be happy. Those two have not had this, but have it now and look how they laugh." They were careful to stand near to the little waterfall so that the noise of it might cover any sounds that they made as they washed their sweat off. "What now?" Illya asked. Sorn shrugged, "I think that you have learned as much as you can for one day. We could hunt, but we still have more food than we can all eat, no? I do not know the area here well, and I do not want to be too far away from them." He sighed, "I know not." "Well," Illya grinned, "we can stand here like a pair of fools talking, but I think I will get my bow and practice a little. The Ba'al told me that when one learns an art, he must live it. I am to practise every day. What I learn from you is the same. I will spend my life in practising, I think. See that wide oak there. Do you think that you could hit that?" "There is one way to know," Sorn smiled and they went to the tents to get their bows. ---------------- "Where in the godforsaken desert are they?" Nisi-ini-su wondered aloud. "They could not have just disappeared into the mists of time." She felt like walking green death and turned to one of the watchers there next to her on the top of the tallest spire of the keep. "Where could they be? How is it possible that they leave for that one dead road and leave the earth instead, and then we use the very same road and do not see them?" The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 09 **ARGH!! I had wanted to write only one more chapter of this and then bring the Martu uprising to an end so that I could pick up with "The Witch's Want" again. This was only to show the back story of the male lead in that story - how his parents waged war and how it became Ur-Nammu's history and the fabric of his life. Uh, the first time, anyway. But here we are, 9 chapters in as I struggle to tie up some ends. Ah well, at least Ur-Nammu is born by the end of this one. ~sigh~ But I did figure out an ending for "The Witch's Want" in all of this thrashing around... Anyway, If you're following this, please enjoy. If you're new to this story.. Whoa, better start at CH01. This is confusing enough if you've gotten this far. O_o -------------------- The priestess stood on the watchtower spire the next day. She surveyed the land around for a short time and then she looked at the way that the clouds appeared to her. They were starting to develop the darker undersides that reminded her of the clouds which bore the precipitation of the coming colder months. She reached into her robe and pulled out a crust of day-old bread, feeling the first waves of her morning sickness approaching her for the third time today. She chewed on the crust and began to feel a little better almost as soon as she'd swallowed some and held a kind thought for her mother. It had taken her this long to remember to stop by the keep bakery to ask for some. Looking down at the land again, she thought that she could see the first of the leaves changing a little. Her eye was drawn to a single figure who walked slowly across the windblown grass far below. Nisi-ini-su sighed to herself. That had been a true shame. The other true shame had been that she'd been so busy recently that she'd had little time to spend with even her closest friend. She turned and walked toward the stairs. ----------------------- Anat wandered the high ground which lay at the foundations of the keep in the large valley. The wind blew her long reddish-brown hair around her as she walked. The place had always been beautiful to her from the first time that she'd laid eyes on it as a girl, but when one's breast holds a broken heart, things seldom look their best. It had been months and still she felt miserable. Nisi-ini-su strode through the taller grass in the cold wind. She could see Anat there far ahead of her. The difference was a little remarkable to her. For more than the past year, she'd never seen Anat out of the armor which marked her as the captain of her personal guards. She wondered briefly when it was exactly when she'd last seen her dressed in anything else. She called to Anat as she drew near, and the woman turned around, bowing a little when her liege was close enough. "Not today, Anat, please, " Nisi-ini-su said with a smile. She maintained her stride and walked right up to the startled woman and threw her arms around her shoulders in a tight hug. She kissed Anat's cheek and hugged her even tighter. "I come to beg forgiveness." "Forgiveness?" Anat asked curiously as she returned the hug genuinely, "What has happened?" The Priestess drew her head back and they looked at each other. "I have had my hands full with so many things that I had no time to spare for the ones which should get it the most. I saw you here from the tower and felt terrible. My closest friend in the world walks alone here on such a day, and I have not done what I should as a friend months ago and made time to be together with you in so long. I am sorry." Anat smiled. "We have all been busy for so long, Nisi-ini-su. These are not times like we are used to from our younger days. There is nothing to forgive." The priestess took the fighter's hand and they walked along the ridge together, two friends from childhood again. The wind there at the edge of the ridge blew far more fitfully than anywhere else as winds near to ridges on mountains always do. Their long cloaks showed the motions of it, though they were tied against the cold, but the long hair of both women, red-brown on one and black on the other showed the motion of the blustery weather plainly. In the keep's main entrance, a guard approached another, drawn by his intent stare across the windblown plain. "What?" "There," the newer guard remarked with a nod, "surely two of the most beautiful women that I have ever seen. I saw one as she came out and before I knew it, I had to step aside for the one with the black hair. Who are they?" The other guard sighed as he smiled and he slapped the new man's shoulder. "Those are two dreams who walk in this place of dreams, friend. And that is all that they will ever be to you and I. The black-haired one is the High Priestess herself and the other is the leader of her guard. Go and sit by the fire when you can call your eyes back into your head. The meal is ready and I will stand duty for you while you eat." He nodded toward the women, "Like many dreams here, they are deadly." The priestess looked to her friend. "If it is not too close to you, I still do not understand what happened with Dagon. I only knew that you were apart." Anat sighed, "What happened is easily able to be seen and foretold when I look back afterward. He is a builder, young and full of ideas. At the keep here, there are enough builders who have ideas of their own. So all that really kept Dagon here was me," she said as she pulled her long hair away from her eyes. "But I carry the duties of the captaincy of your guard, and as in all else, it seems, that duty is hard to name with certainty. I lead a group of fighters by my title, but we are also many other things both here and wherever we are sent as the needs be." She smiled at her friend, happy for the company now, "I have always loved the duty and would not give it up until I cannot do it well any longer or I am dead, but that makes it harder for a man to keep his love for his woman alive when she is most often not here. What happened is that Dagon left both me and the keep while we were off elsewhere. I know not if there was another woman." "Surely not," her friend said, stating the obvious, "who would be that bold -- or stupid?" Anat tugged her friend's hand a little and raised their clasped hands so that they could be seen by both of them. "Do not even think of it, old friend. I know what you would do now. You would offer me time away, and it is something that I do not want or need. My busyness has been the best thing for me these past months. I am over him. It is just that today, I feel the want that comes from loneliness a little more, that is all." Nisi-ini-su stopped and it caused Anat to turn. When she did, the priestess hugged her tightly and kissed her. Anat found herself responding after a moment and she felt a little better as their tongues danced slowly. Anat heard her old lover's sigh as it began and she added hers to it. All these years, she thought. Nisi-ini-su broke the kiss and smiled. "As it has always been between us, Anat, I love you still, and so I want to make things better for you. You cannot blame me for this. I have had a thought of late anyway, and I want to speak with you about it before I act." She laughed to herself a little, "That marks quite a change in me, no?" "Aye," the female warrior grinned back, "it does." She put her arm around her friend's shoulders as they began to walk again, "Tell me then, so that I might have a chance to know what it is that I must fear next." "Soon," her friend laughed, "By your dress here, I see that you are off today, and if I know you, there is a warm fire still burning in the hearth of your little cottage." --------------------- Anat's jaw fell. "You -- you are serious?" Nisi-ini-su smiled back as they sat before the hearth together eating soup. "Yes, of course I am. Tell me that you have never had the thought of it, Anat. Go on and say it and I will laugh at you. Do you think that he is not man enough for it?" Anat thought of it, "Of course he is, Nisi-ini-su. It is just that, ... I have never, ..." "Yes you have," her friend laughed, "I know you, Anat. Listen, we are first lovers between us. You and I have never stopped loving each other. It is only lately that there has been no time for it. Lugalbanda is the world to me and I know that the love between us is as strong as what lies between you and I. We both know how you feel about him. He knows, Anat. He feels the same about you as you feel about him. He also knows what is between us and has always been." She paused to let it sink in as she carefully sipped a spoonful of the hot soup, grateful for the heat of the bowl in her cold hands. "What happened to you would not ever happen again. You are with him a little more than I am when he is in the field, and I would not begrudge it. You and I are alone here without him now as sometimes happens as well, and he and I are often alone together on the road to somewhere that we must be. There would be time for it alone and all together. I know how he admires and respects you, and anyone with eyes can see that you shine when you stand near to him in battle. We both do, you and I. I have heard it said of us often. So? What is there to argue about, then? Say the word to me and we three will be together. You and I will be his two wives and we will all be happier for it. Do not forget that I am with child. When it gets much later just before the birth, I will be glad of your help." "You would have my help anyway," Anat said earnestly, "You know it." "I do," the priestess smiled, "it was never in question in my mind. But I can see a time when the babe will need me. Can you see it then? I will want your help to keep him pleased when I will not have the desire as much. That is what my own mother told me might happen. And this way, you can also have babes with him, though I can warn you that so far, the way that I must throw away my dinner so lightly does little to forge my love as a mother." Anat thought about it. Between the two of them, she had always been the practical one. This idea surprised her and she knew that her friend must have thought this through long and hard to be this forthright and logical with her argument because of what had happened with Timna, though they both knew that she had a far greater appetite for this kind of sex than Timna ever could. She looked at Nisi-ini-su. "He carries the lock," the priestess said with a little leer, "just as I do. And you know how it helps with loving." "Stop it," Anat laughed, "I know what it does with you. I try to think of how it would go with him. I have never loved with a man like him." "Well, "her old lover smiled warmly, "I have, and often. I have even survived his wonderful pounding, now that I am used to it and crave it so. But I also know how you like it soft and gentle most often, Anat, and I have taught him to be just so - just that way when I ask him for it. Say the word and you have your old lover and a husband, once we have the ritual. Find a way to becoming a priestess as well as a fighter and we will try to find a way to share the lock with you. But in any event, you can begin with him as soon as I tell him your answer." Anat was shocked, "He knows of this, what you suggest to me?" Her friend nodded, "Yes. We have spoken of it often before. Lugalbanda has always known what we do together, Anat. It has never been a secret from him. He understands how you and I have always needed each other in all things. He mentioned it to me, how - unless the other one is not there, we are always conferring. He has also noticed how unhappy you are. And you would not be this unhappy if my man and I had acted sooner and offered this to you months ago, but we were all so busy. We are both sorry for that. Think hard for a moment here, Anat. Are we not happiest when we are all three together? It doesn't matter what it is that we are doing, we are always drawn together. All that he and I have spoken of here - all that I am saying is that we just admit what is there. You and he are close enough for this anyway, are you not?" Anat thought about it and nodded, "Yes, truly. If we met before any of this and the love between you, I think that he and I would, ..." "Well you might think it, Anat," Nisi-ini-su said, "but I know it as a certainty." She laughed as a thought came to her, "It would still be the same! Look, if you were with him, you would be sitting with me at some point telling me the same words and trying to induce me into this, and you know it. We have both taken men. Even if what was between you and Dagon had been successful, there would still be you and I underneath it all - just as it is now." "We are still the two girls who have always been together. First from childhood, then as young hopeful and would-be adventurers here so long ago. We grew up enough, and one day we were lovers. I have always cherished that. We are older, and I am with child, but Anat, we are still the two girls who found ourselves naked on a hillside one day when we were old enough for it. We needed each other then, and we need each other still. I have my large and very strong man. He wants you as he wants me. Think with your head if you like, Anat. It will work." She laughed, and Anat wondered why. Her old friend smiled, "Think with your cunny for once, and it will tell you the same thing, only louder. Come on, old friend, I offer you the love that you have always had and on top of that, I offer you a husband such that you will never want another." Anat threw up her hands. "What must I say, then?" "Only say 'yes', that you would try it." Nisi-ini-su replied, "I will arrange it when he returns. If it is good between you, then it is done, and we would welcome you to your new home. I cannot wait to stand beside you for the ceremony when you wed him." She looked around at the cozy little cottage around them for a moment as she leaned against Anat. "But though you would change your quarters, I want you to keep this place, "she smiled, "There are many good memories here and more to be made yet, I think. You are off today and no one can find me to bother me over a thousand little things which they decide for themselves whenever I am not here anyway." Anat nodded as she leaned against the priestess with a smile. "And I have a bucket," she said with a chuckle. ------------------- "What is it, Illya," Yanna asked her husband as they lay in their bed while the wind moaned outside. On their arrival at the keep, Smyrna and Daggat had resumed their duties in the guard of the Priestess. Illya and Yanna were given a set of rooms high up in one of the spires. Actually, it was two sets, the other set was given to Besha and Sorn. None of the outer rooms had a flat wall -- they were all curved. There was a large common room between them with a fireplace large enough to heat that one room really well. The four of them spent days cleaning and sweeping. Each set of rooms had its own more or less central room with a fireplace. On the advice of the older couple, Yanna and Illya made that room their bedroom so that they'd be warmer over the coming winter. Most of the time, the doors to the sets of rooms were kept open. The bedroom fireplaces were only lit when the couples went to bed and the doors were closed. "What is it that troubles you so?" Illya sighed, turning to take Yanna in his arms. He didn't want what was bothering him to affect her. "I am to learn more of this quiet killing," he said, "Both the Priest and the Priestess are pleased at what I have already learned from Sorn. They say that I must continue." Yanna nodded, "As I was told to learn from Besha, anything that she might teach me. What is wrong with that?" Yanna asked him, "I am told often how quickly you learn and how -- "she stopped and looked at him with concern. "There is something really troubling you," she said. He nodded, "I have learned many ways, Yanna, but though I have avoided it, I now come to the stealth of getting close in a bed." Yanna might have wanted to make a joke otherwise, but she understood her husband's concern. She pushed him onto his back and looked down at him as she ran her pawed hand over his chest. "Listen, Illya," she said, "there are two things here, not only the one. I am the closest one to you in all the world, so I know. Firstly, you are troubled over lying with another woman while you are married to me. It causes me a little trouble as well, Illya, but I understand it and why you need to learn this." She smiled, "I think of it this way; my husband looks good enough to be wanted by other women, yet he only wants me. I feel pride for this, so you should try to do your best to learn, as you have done for everything else. We are both here to learn what is taught, and we do it for each other. I also smile a little because when it happens that you lie with someone, your count will go up, and I may benefit from the things that you might learn as well, no? That is how I look at it." "It is the other thing which bothers you much more," she said, "and I know this as well. You will have to learn about lying with another man and I know how you feel about that too. I will say this to you," she said as she leaned down to rub her face under his jaw, "I have learned about you in the time that we have loved. I know what you like in the dark and only between us, husband. If I had fingers instead of these claws, you know what I would do. All that I can tell you is to do your best. I don't know why, Illya, but the thought stirs me a little to think of it, and if nothing else," she smiled as she began to stroke him, "your count goes up regardless in the eyes of the cat-girl who needs you so that she may breathe." ------------------- The old fireplace crackled and threw out a spark onto the stone floor now and then. Besha stood at a window and looked out through a gap as she held one of the shutters open a little to see. The wind outside blew strongly and it carried cold rain with it, but inside, it was very warm and dry. She shivered a little as a bit of the rain blew in and landed against her stomach and one of her breasts. Both of their men each spent about an hour a day bringing and managing the wood to keep the fireplace hot and once the thing was really going, it was hot in the main room, so during the day, neither of the women wore very much and Yanna preferred being closer to the floor on four legs, since the air was cooler there and she was trapped inside her short fur. Besha closed the shutter and walked to look at the pot heating near the fire which held the hot broth that she wanted. Satisfied, she threw another split log on the fire and walked back to sit down. "So Illya is troubled and you spoke of it together and then you did your best to make him feel a little better," Besha asked her friend as they watched the flames roaring in the huge fireplace of the common room. "What is your trouble then?" Yanna didn't take her eyes from the flames. Besha was sitting on a chair while she was lying on a thick rug on the floor. "I do not know, really," she said, "other than it makes Illya nervous and unhappy to think about." She shifted her focus deeper into the fire and tried to imagine the scene. "It stirs me somehow," she said. Besha sat down beside her. "How?" "I don't know," Yanna replied a little evasively, "I only know that it does." "Well that I can see for myself," the older woman smiled as she got down to lie at right angles to Yanna's face. Besha lay with her chin on her forearms, smiling. The cat-girl's amber eyes shifted as she looked over at her. "You can?" Besha laughed softly as she reached to move one of Yanna's braids out of the way and behind her ear. "Yanna," she said with a lot of her good humor in her voice, "We have been here for over an hour now, you and me, talking as we often do about anything. But all that you talk about today is this one thing, and you began it as you sat in the chair next to mine." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 09 She chuckled, "In the time since, you have been looking nowhere but at that fire, seeing who knows what in the flames, and somehow you have ended up here on your front telling me how this idea stirs you -- while any fool can see that you stir yourself at the same time! I only wait for you to finish so that I may have my friend back." She stretched forward and kissed Yanna's forehead as Yanna looked over at her. "I'm sorry, I --" "Never mind," Besha chuckled as she sat up and caressed Yanna's bottom, "I hope that it is good for you here. I will wait." They were silent for a few moments. "Your hand feels nice," Yanna said. "Really?" Besha asked, "and how do you know that it is my hand? How do you know that it is not Sorn's hand, or the hand of another man -- any man other than Illya, for he is your husband and you would know his touch in an instant? How do you know that the hand that you feel is not the hand of the Priestess herself?" "We are the only two here," Yanna replied, shifting her eyes to the flames once more, "but I understand you. You try to teach me that any hand might feel good at the right time." "Yes," Besha replied, "It all depends upon what you would welcome at that moment. There is not much difference, other than size, or roughness, or how the other one touches. Illya will learn this too." "Besha? Is it alright with you that Sorn teaches Illya? I mean, when I think of it, our men, ..." The other woman leaned back a little to watch Yanna's fingers work. She felt a little sad that there were limitations for her friend because of her claws. "Our men will certainly share their fine bodies at some point in this, Yanna. It must be for Illya to learn. The best way to work as an assassin is to work silently, and that is best done from very close up in a bed. For my part, it doesn't really bother me. I know who will hold me close tonight and mean it when he loves me. This changes nothing. It is only another thing that Illya needs to be taught. I only hope that he is bright enough to listen to Sorn and allow it easily." She shook a thought from her head, "because if not, it will be a very hard lesson for him to learn." The tip of one of her fingers accidentally grazed one of Yanna's claws for an instant and Besha drew it back as she pet her friend's haunch, "You will see. Illya might really like it, but I am sure that he has no trouble loving his wife, Yanna. You know how I am careful about your feelings, but even through two doors here and right across the tower, I often hear the pleasure that he gives to you at night -- and by the way, I have no complaints over it. You make all the sounds that you need to. Sorn and I do not mind it at all. We know what you are, and I always love to hear it because I know where it comes from in you." The room was still for another few minutes. The only sound which came to their ears was the sound of the fire, but now and then, the wind outside across the chimney stack far above them would die off for a moment or two. When that happened, the fire's roar would fade away and then they could both hear Yanna's fingers working in her slickness along with her rapid breathing. Besha didn't mind, though the sounds made her a little wet herself. She sat softly stroking Yanna's fur to encourage her. "You still have not told me how these thoughts stir you," she said, "you were careful not to say when I asked, as if it was nothing. And yet, you lie here frigging yourself at some thought, and I wish now to know it." She chuckled a little, "Tell it to me well enough, and I might lie beside you and join in while I stare at the flames there as you do. They must be very good thoughts." "I -- I have trouble with saying it," Yanna said, with a little complaint in her voice. "Well, what is in your mind, then?" her friend asked, "For right now, what are they doing? Does one of them suck? Both? What?" She could see Yanna shake her head and knew at once how hard she was concentrating. Judging by the length of time that this had gone on and from the speed of her young friend's hand and the sound of her breathing, Besha decided to go for broke to try and help her, "Has one of them mounted the other one?" "Yes!" Yanna hissed as her fingers flew faster. Besha's voice dripped with honey and a little lust to help Yanna along, "Think of the muscles on them both, Yanna. You and I have such fine men. Think of the power there in them. That would be something to see, would it not? I would love to see that myself." Yanna began to whimper and moan in her frenzy. Now and then, a soft grunt would pass her lips. Besha smiled as she watched. "Who has been mounted?" "Illya!" Yana groaned loudly as her fingers squished rapidly against her sex. "And in your mind, does Illya still love his cat-girl? Does he still need you to hold his heart?" She leaned closer to Yanna's ear, "I know that he does, Yanna. Everyone sees how he loves you. He will still be a man. Think of this while he fucks you tonight, if you can." Yanna's fingers grew frantic and the room echoed to her growling moan. Besha kissed her ear gently, pleased to help Yanna reach nearer to her finish. She'd been a whore once and had learned about people's lust and what they needed and when. She watched her friend closely, judging the moment for her next comment very carefully. When she was satisfied, Besha was careful to only breathe the words into Yanna's ear. "Does he like it, Yanna?" The feline's sound approached a howl, and Besha knew that her dear friend was very close now. Besha smiled to herself. She and Sorn thought so much of the young couple. In them, they seemed to see themselves as they were long ago, without all of the pain and heartache that had befallen them, even though Besha was a woman and Yanna was a cat-girl of some sort. They treasured the opportunities that they were given to teach the couple anything, from cooking to fighting to knowledge of herbs and even to something like this. Besha never forgot how hard Yanna had tried to bring her out of her long sadness when they'd met. Her help had made all the difference in her being able to love Sorn again. Besha reached to gently push Yanna's fingers away. "Yanna, let me help you. Turn over and I will finish it for you." Yanna paused for only half a second before she threw herself onto her back. Besha was human and as such, she had no claws. She smiled down as she wet her fingers and Yanna groaned loudly as she felt Besha begin. Yanna's breathing became ragged and rapid, frantic again now as she stared at Besha's smiling face and saw the tattoos. "Close your eyes, Yanna, and think of our men together if this stirs you so much, "she said, "Just enjoy this now." Yanna squeezed her eyes shut and she could see it all as Besha's crossed fingers worked her. "Reach for your little sprout when you are ready, Yanna," she heard her friend say. Yanna's eyes flew open and she begged in a tortured voice. Besha sighed and leaned forward. Yanna closed her eyes and saw the scene again. She saw Illya's face in his climax and her hand dove for her clitoris. Besha felt the motion and was glad that Yana's claws had only grazed her fingers. Yanna felt the nipple against her lips and she clamped her mouth over Besha's breast above her as softly as she could and cried out as she came, bucking hard for a moment against Besha's hand while she sucked and then holding still while she shuddered. Besha groaned softly. --------------------- Yanna lay on her side staring at Besha. Her breathing had come back to normal and now she found that she had a lot more to wonder about as Besha inspected her own breast. "I'm sorry," she said. Besha looked up, "For what, Yanna? I looked, but you have not hurt me." "Thank you, Besha," Yanna said, almost in a whisper, "that was very -- " "I know," Besha smiled, "I could tell. I liked it as well, for the moment that it lasted. But more importantly, what did you learn? We are both women who love their men. We are close, but you have told me that you do not want the touch of another woman, and yet,... " she grinned a little as she held out her outstretched hand palm up toward Yanna, "look how hard you finished. It was the same with my hand caressing your flank." She smiled warmly, "It was a touch given just at the time that you would welcome it. If you think about it like that, you can see that it doesn't really matter at all, does it?" "No," Yanna replied, rather surprised at herself, "but I do not understand it." "Yanna," Besha said as she stretched out next to her friend on her stomach in just the same position as Yanna had been in earlier, "Inside us, we are all the same. We want warmth and shelter from the weather, food to eat and water to drink. We all need someone to love, or our lives are not what they might be otherwise." She sighed as her own fingers worked. "We all need someone to hold us, and we all would like someone to make us feel good in this way. It matters to most of us what the other one is, yes, but at some point -- at the right point, it doesn't matter at all, because we are all the same. You are a beautiful cat on the outside and a beautiful girl on the inside and it still doesn't matter, as you see. This is really what Illya needs to learn and then he will make a good assassin. If he cannot learn this, then he will never succeed, but I think that he will understand it." Yanna stared at her friend's tattoos as she often loved to do while she watched her for a few minutes, and then she lay down next to her so that they could continue talking. She hesitated, but then began to stroke Besha's flanks gently and Besha thanked her. "I cannot help you more than this," Yanna said a little apologetically, "my claws, ..." Besha smiled and shrugged a little. "It is alright." Besha said as she moved onto her side and closed her eyes to continue. "If you wish to help, then kiss me a little when I ask you for it." Yanna smiled and promised that she would as she moved herself closer. She sighed as Besha's other hand touched her mound softly a few moments later at the wrong angle and she felt herself swelling there again. She thought about her lesson and smiled again as she leaned her head a bit nearer to whisper, "Is it time? Do you wish for the kisses of a cat-girl now?" Besha kept her eyes closed and her soft smile grew wider as she nodded. "Yes," she sighed. "I want nothing more than the soft kisses of my dear friend, Yanna." The sound of it made Yanna very happy inside. "Then lie on your back, Besha," Yanna said, "I have thought of a use for the strange sprout that I have." Besha moaned her agreement and rolled the rest of the way onto her back. Yanna gently moved her legs apart and positioned herself so that she could thrust gently against her friend with her mound and slightly protruding little bud. Besha's eyes flew open with a groan and Yanna carefully lowered her open mouthful of long teeth to kiss Besha in a different way for the first time. --------------- They sat together sipping the hot broth in silence for many minutes. Besha knew that Yanna had a lot to think about now and so she thought of Sorn and how she could never get enough of him. "I feel strange," Yanna said. Besha looked over, "Strange as though you might die now? I hope that it is not so." "No," Yanna smiled a little, "I wonder about us, that is all." "There is little to wonder about, my friend," Besha replied, "very little has changed. I know that you still need Illya's love, just as I need Sorn's. We have only changed our friendship a little, and only if you wish to continue, that is all. But if you do not," she said, stretching her legs out in front of her with a sigh, "it is alright too, and thank you for your idea. I have lain like that with women sometimes, but I never felt something so nice as this time was for me. I know that it had much to do with how you are made, but thank you all the same. I felt how hard to tried for me." Yanna was silent for a time, thinking of how she'd enjoyed it, but she turned to Besha at last and said, "I think that I wish to have this with you again sometimes." Besha nodded with a warm smile, "We can do that. It is not uncommon among the married women of my people to take each other as lovers while their men are away. They love and comfort each other, and it goes easier to help with the food and the children. Everyone knows it and we are a little famous for it. Men do this as well sometimes if they are close enough for it. You and I care about each other very much Yanna. It is my honor to be your friend. That you might also love me like this is something wonderful to my heart." "Well, I do have my uses, Besha," the cat-girl smirked as she very carefully moved herself to lean against her friend so that neither of them spilled any broth, "If our men do not mind it, think of running to my bed on the cold mornings after they leave. The bed will be warm and I have fur." "Now that is a nice thought and I think they will not mind it at all," the tattooed woman smiled absently as she put her arm around Yanna while being mindful of the hot broth that they each held, "they have spoken of it between them when we were still on the road here months ago. Illya told me that he wanted you to have me as a friend and lover like this when I asked him, and Sorn already knows the way of our people. I have only been waiting very quietly and hopefully for you. I only sought to help you today as you struggled to finish. But here we are anyway." ------------------------- It was the middle of the Mesopotamian winter as Sorn rode out along the road to the place where Illya's final test was to take place two days away from Jebel Bishri. The job had been funneled to him from Shahbek especially for Illya as a favor and he'd been gone for almost a week now. Sorn arrived in the town and took a room before beginning to see if all was going well. He thought about it as he walked, carrying a package on his shoulder and looking for all the world like a lost porter who was having trouble finding the address where he should deliver it to. He was worried for Illya. The young man had become a close friend to him and Besha along with his wife. He wondered what he'd tell Yanna if things had gone sour and Illya hadn't survived it. There had been previous tests and Illya had gotten through everything with flying colors, but this one was a true test of everything that he'd learned. In a very real sense, it was as much a test of the teacher as it was of the student. There were two targets here, supposedly a brother and sister, though Sorn had his doubts. When he'd passed by on his earlier trip to see the lay of the land, they looked to him to be more of a middle-aged couple who liked to swap partners a lot and gender wasn't an issue to either of them. But they were important enough to have guards in this place and it was known that they were informants to the local king who was beginning to try to flex a bit of muscle on the local Martu population in the hopes of starting a confrontation with the keep, so that was good enough for Shahbek and Sorn. He walked past the gardens of the place by the alleyway in behind and noted it after a few minutes as the woman sat in a chair as she tried to seduce Illya. Sorn walked on, satisfied that at least one side of this was in hand. It took him a few minutes' walk to reach the business of the man. Everything looked calm from the outside, and to Sorn, that meant that either the man and his servants in the place were now dead, or things were business as usual for the man and Illya was in danger. There was no real way to tell without trying to go in himself until he noticed the bars across the doorway, indicating that the place was closed. He thought to allow Illya a few hours more time so he walked around the town to learn what he could of it before he went back to the inn. He met Illya on the way. They didn't speak to each other as they walked. Sorn discarded the empty package behind a hedgerow and with hand signals, he showed Illya the way to where the horses were as he went to the inn to retrieve his things and leave. Of everything that he'd had to learn, Illya judged his ability in horsemanship to be a dismal failure, though Sorn didn't agree. In a few minutes, Sorn arrived and they saddled up. At the outskirts of the place, they broke into a gallop for a few minutes. "Well, I see that you were not killed, and at least so far, we are not being chased by guards," Sorn said when they'd slowed to a trot, "I would guess then that you were successful." Illya didn't answer though he did nod and Sorn knew why. He knew that Illya would have had to kill both targets, one not long after the other, and that would have been enough, but Sorn also thought that there was a fair likelihood that Illya might have had to have some sort of sexual encounter with one target or the other or both. Add a ton of tension to the pile as well as the effort to appear to be relaxed and NOT tense in the slightest while engaging in something that went against one's grain, and it made Sorn remember his own first job like this. He hadn't spoken to anyone for a week. But after about a half hour of steady riding after they'd slowed from the gallop, he heard Illya's low whistle. When he looked over, he saw Illya jerk his thumb over his shoulder. When he looked back, Sorn saw the rising smoke from the fire. "What did you do, Illya?" Illya's face was deadpan as he told it. "I met the man and asked about work where they handle the parcels. He told me that I could have a job there if he could have me. For three nights, I stayed there and let him have his fun and I made certain that he would be too tired to make his way home late in the evening. I killed him this morning, but before I left, I poured oil everywhere and lit a long taper. Then I left after locking the doors. It is a holy day there and few will be working. I went to the house then and asked for work gardening and I was insistent enough that the housekeeper began to grow fond of me. She took me to the woman." Illya shrugged, "I killed the woman in her bed while we fucked, not long after you walked past, but I was careful not to finish and I made it appear so that she fell on a dagger herself in her guilt over having her brother killed in some spite. Then I barred the door and left through a window and here I am. The taper in the business has burned down low enough to light the oil and by now some of the market is burning to be sure, so everyone will be busy with that for a while." Sorn thought it over for a while and then nodded, "A little large, Illya, but it is alright, from the number of problems which might have arisen in the escape. You know that both are dead beyond a doubt?" Illya nodded, "The woman is dead from her own dagger through her heart and the man is dead from, ... well, a thin sword pushed into his body from below. I held him still while I got the angle then gave him one quick stroke in his bed there at the business. I pulled the sword back maybe two minutes after he stopped twitching. Even if his body is not burned, there will be no blood from the hole for another hour at the least." Sorn stared, "You put it there?" Illya nodded and they rode in silence. Sorn's eyebrows didn't come back to their normal place for several minutes. They rode through the night and found a quiet dell near to a pond where Illya could wash. Sorn kept watch while Illya slept a few hours and after a meal, they rode on to the keep. When they arrived, Sorn sat in the common room in front of the fire with Besha lying in front of him with her leaning against his chest. Illya was in Yana's arms and she pulled him to bed minutes after closing the door. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 09 Just as she'd been coached by Besha, Yanna asked him nothing about the trip. She only did her best to hug him until he showed her that he was ready to make love with her. -------------------------- Illya wanted it to be him. Ten days earlier, when the wise ones had convened at the request of the Priestess so that they might see what might be done to help Yanna's return to a human shape, there had been long discussions. It had actually taken days. No one was certain how to help, not knowing the exact way that she'd been transformed in the first place from a young human woman to a walking two-legged feline. Illya had never told anyone, but over the time that they'd been together, he actually preferred Yanna the way that she was, as a cat-girl. He knew that it had to do with how he felt for her sexually and he was a little ashamed over it, and so he'd held his tongue on the subject. He loved Yanna deeply, no matter what, and when he thought about it to himself, he knew that he'd have been happy with her as a human again if it could be done for her. He knew that it was what she wanted. There was just a very tiny preference in him for the cat. But now, she'd been in such agony for hours, it seemed. He felt so guilty for this. It was his fault, after all. As everyone had spoken to her, and asked things of her, and poked, and prodded his poor wife, it had seemed that no one could or would step up and make a pronouncement. They all seemed to have missed a detail that had become obvious to Illya, since he loved Yanna much more than he loved his own life. So in the middle of the fourth day of the discussions, Illya had offered the one observation that everyone had missed. "Yanna lives inside herself as a woman. This cat that everyone sees is not real. This is all an illusion which follows her movements like a glove follows the hand inside of it." They all looked at him. Some looked as though they'd have dismissed his thoughts out of hand. A few looked as though they wanted to hit their own foreheads for the obviousness of it. All of them sought an answer for the two young people. Nisi-ini-su held up her hand to stave off the comments and arguments which she felt would come forth in only another second. "Why do you say this, Illya?" He felt embarrassed for his wife, and ashamed for himself, but he just shrugged and said it. "She does not bleed." An old man stood up out of his chair, "Go on," he said, listening intently as he leaned on his staff. "Yanna began as a girl," Illya said, "She grew to be a woman. I saw her that way the first time that I set my eyes on her. Like that, she was as any woman, and for her to be that, she had to have her time to bleed, as any woman does. She told me that she did." Yanna nodded, "It is so." Illya continued, "But since she has worn this curse on her, she has not bled once. She wears this as one would wear a coat. It is as though she is hidden within another creature's body. I am not wise, but I know this. I have watched her sleep with her head on my chest for half of a year now, since Khamazi," he said, "and I have had a lot of time to think and worry for my poor wife. I see her face as she sleeps and since I know how she looked before, I can still see her face within her face as it is here." "But this is no coat in truth, Illya." The Priestess said. "No," he replied, "I did not say that. I said that it is like a coat. Inside, Yanna feels just as she did before. Everything that she had before she has now, but it is inside. Everything matches -- as much as it is possible to match from one to the other, but if she was complete in this shape, then she would bleed as a cat. Even cats have their time. Yanna does not have anything at all. I think that this is something that she wears and everything about the woman inside is hidden from our eyes, and even from hers." He looked down, feeling more than a little foolish for having interrupted the discussions of the wise ones, and he thought for a moment. When he looked back up, he finished his theory so that he could sit down and resume his role as nothing more than a worried husband. "This is not real in some way, and Yanna lives inside. I think that some things are kept still in her, as though they only wait -- like her time of women." It caused them to throw other theories away just like that, and they began earnest discussions in the new direction. A day later, they had all agreed. Two days after that, they had ideas concerning how she might be brought back to her original form. A week after that, they told Yanna that they were as ready as they could ever be, but that they could not be certain of any risks to her. They even told her that she might find that what they might do for her might not be permanent. The decision was hers. Now she was suffering in pain and Illya was in anguish as mages and others worked over her. -------------------- Yanna suddenly found that she couldn't bear the abrupt and rapidly moving intense pain which overtook her one wave after another. She inhaled and just gave in to it, throwing her head forward to scream as she writhed on the floor, surrounded by chanting mages and priestesses. Their glowing hands appeared to her as a ring that encircled her. "ILLYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" She fell into her sobs and groaned. A few seconds later, she threw back her head and screamed again as she rolled onto her back. Illya had been sitting with his head in his hands, listening. At the sound of her anguished screams, he looked up and Yanna saw that his face ran with his tears for her. He felt lost in his own agony, overcome with the guilt for what he had caused her to suffer. He wished more than anything that he'd kept his mouth shut. He wished that it was him there in her place. She reached for him and he came to her. Finding a spot where he wouldn't intrude of impede the others, he sank to his knees and took her outstretched paw. "I'm so sorry, Yanna." For a long moment, she looked at him, straining to speak. Her eyes opened wide and she then was still, her body rolling slowly onto her side by gravity as her muscles went slack. Illya waited, but nothing happened. The thing that he feared the most had come to pass. Her amber eyes were open and he knew that he'd be haunted by them forever. He stared for a moment, and as hard as he looked for it, he saw no sign that she was breathing anymore. Illya's young heart felt as though it had been torn in two. Her paw was limp in his hand. He looked down, oblivious to the gasps of those around him. He opened his hand and saw that her hand was changing. As he stared, the claws and pads disappeared, the fur faded from view and he was holding the lovely hand of a beautiful woman. So he'd been correct, for all the good that it had done. The one that he loved had changed back once so that he could bury her as the woman that she'd been born as. He collapsed in a heap and wept as he kissed that hand. If he'd only kept his mouth shut, he'd still have the love of his life. There was a lovely woman who suddenly found herself naked on some skins on the floor of a chamber in a castle keep. She knew what had happened to her, and for the first time in a long while, she felt shame at not having a thing on as she blinked and looked around herself. But all of that passed in an instant when she heard the sobs of the man who meant the world to her. Underneath the consternation in the voices around her, she heard the pain clearly and saw Illya as he wept. "Illya? Illya, what is wrong?" He looked up, afraid that he was imagining the voice that he needed to hear, and not believing. He blinked and wiped his eyes as best he could with one hand, terrified now that if he let go with the other, that she'd disappear. "Yanna?" It took a matter of only a few seconds and they were wrapped together as closely as two people in love can possibly be. "We must see if she is well," one of the priestesses said. "Will she remain like this or not?" a mage asked, "I wish to ask what she feels and other things." Nisi-ini-su shook her head as she grimaced with the effort of getting herself and her swollen belly out of the chair that she'd been in, "We need to ask nothing for the moment, and Yanna is quite obviously well. Come," she said, "they need some time." Every one of them nodded and they filed out of the room. -------------- But it was not as definite as all that. Yanna was now capable of both forms. The conclusion a week later was that she had not been turned into a cat after all, no matter what she or anyone else had thought. She had been changed, quite obviously, but it had not been completed somehow. Yanna was, to the surprise and amazement of everyone -- not least herself -- a changeling. She found, not long after, that she could alternate the way that she was with ease. It brought even more changes. While she was comfortable wearing nothing or next to it as a cat, Yanna the woman now needed clothes. While she'd been capable of eating meals with utensils or not, depending on the company, she'd always preferred a fair amount of meat in her diet. As a woman, she wanted much less meat. While she'd been stuck in the form of a cat, she was quick and powerful. She lacked much of that as a human. But she found that she'd been given a few gifts in all of this. --------------- Illya finished another day where he'd been drilled and taught and drilled again in the way of silent death by Sorn in the morning, and then he'd dragged his beaten and already sore body to the forge, where he continued his learning of the crafting of weaponry at the hands of the weaponsmiths. Most of that was pounded into him as he worked. He walked stiff and numb to the baths and scrubbed his poor body until his skin tingled. While he was there, he had a hooded visitor who only stood in silence watching him until he noticed her. Besha stepped forward then after removing her cloak. Her dress came off a few seconds later as he stared at her. She smiled, "Today is a bit if a special one for some of us," she said. "Stand still, and I will wash you," she whispered to him after her soft kiss. "Do you want me to ..." She shook her head, "Shh, I want you to hold still, Illya. I will admit to much temptation, but that is not why I have come to you here. Calm yourself, Sorn knows what I am here to do. We agreed that I am the better one between us to do this for you so that you make seed in a hurry." Besha told him that Yanna wished to meet him in the old apple orchard, the seventh row from the right, about three quarters of the way in and next to the stone arch. She explained that in that small sheltered space, no cold wind came and it was very warm in the sunshine, even at this time of year. "You need to be made ready," she smiled as she stroked him gently. Before he knew it, she was on her knees and suckling him, but before he really had a chance to understand it all, she stopped and stood up with a grin. "Now you are ready. Go to the orchard now." He was a little confused, but he was happy to meet Yanna there. He joked that he thought they might sit and talk as they ate a few apples. Besha grinned and nodded, perhaps. As he approached the orchard, Yanna saw him come and pulled her dress off as she began to call to him in a way that she was certain that he'd remember. Her voice came to him as quiet little cries. He stopped and listened with a slow smile beginning on his young face. When he found her, he sank down to sit with his back against an ancient apple tree to watch as his beautiful young wife fulfilled her promise by slowly masturbating for him in the sunshine, just as she'd done over the two days that she'd watched him as he'd worked to clean her father's stables. When she was like this, she lacked the pronounced mound and the clitoris that was capable of protruding -- but she did have fingers without claws again and that made this all so easy and enjoyable for her. He listened spellbound to the sounds that she made which he'd loved so much to hear, and she added to them the sounds that she could only make as a human woman until at last, she beckoned him to love her. Her husband still loved her more than he loved to draw breath and their desire for each other had not changed. Now she had to go back to the discomfort and cramps of having a menstrual cycle. But it didn't bother her for long. She was given a reprieve after only one period when she found that she was with child. --------------------------- There were two well-known births at Jebel Bidhri over the next months; a boy was born in May to Nisi-ini-su and Lugalbanda, the first of two male children, and a girl was born in December to Yanna and Illya, the first of four girls and three boys. Ur-Nammu was a rather quiet baby who had two proud mothers between Nisi-ini-su and Anat and he seemed to be fascinated with the world around him. Dimme arrived squalling and furious, a changeling like her mother. She appeared not to be so much fascinated with the world so much as she looked to be wanting to tear it apart. The girl was given several names, one of which was to reflect her beauty, for if it might be said, she was lovely from birth. But there was another side to her which could be brought out under the right circumstances, and this side earned her the name that she was known by most often. It had been given in the hope that Sumerians and Akkadians would fear her and leave her alone and it had nothing to do with her Martu heritage. To Sumerians, her name was Dimme. To Akkadians, her name was Lamashtu. They meant the same thing and translated to one of a trio of female demons feared by both peoples. As a child, she'd been taken by her parents when they traveled and always found that many people liked her instantly. She easily made friends with other children. But there were times on subsequent trips when all that they found were burnt-out dwellings and long-dead corpses. It caused her to come to a conclusion about both Sumerians and Akkadians. Dimme vowed quietly that when she was older, she'd do her best to live up to her names. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 10 Lugalbanda and Nisi-ini-su decided that they would allow Enmerkar one more conquest with their help, knowing full well that before anything of a combative nature occurred, there could be years of posturing. They were not disappointed. Both kings remained adamant in their claims to the affections of their love goddess Ianna every night. The priestess commented that the nightly burden of the goddess must be easing at least a little, now that she only had to deliver a cup of warm milk to each one of the old fools to make them sleep. And so it went, with one king threatening the other, back and forth for a long while, long enough for Ur-Nammu and Dimme to play together with others of their age among the tents and the chariots of Lugalbanda's army as he took other cities in Enmerkar's name while he waited for something concrete to come out of the boasting. -------------- Nisi-ini-su sighed as she held her man to her. She knew that in another few seconds, he would slide out of her. "What was this last sigh for," he smiled, "have I disappointed you?" "No," she smiled back, "Over all of the years and the many times that we have done this, I have never been unhappy. It is just that if I had my way, I always have the wish that I could hold you there longer afterwards, that is all." The door opened and Anat walked in with a platter of food. "You said that you sought the counsel of your women, Ba'al. We already have the wine with us, but here is food to eat while we think." "If there is one impractical bone in your body, Anat," the priestess laughed as she untangled herself from the warrior-priest, "I have seen no sign of it yet." It took a little careful thought, but the three of them moved to the carpet in front of the hearth to sit and hold their discussion. "This endless bickering that Enmerkar does with Aratta is taking more time than I am prepared to allow," he said. "I do not see what there is for him to enjoy in it, but he must, somehow. The plan is stalled over the waiting." His two wives nodded, "We all grow a little older and though it gives us the time to raise our children to warriors, it serves no useful purpose," Anat said. "It is so," Nisi-ini-su nodded," but there is another aspect which must be considered. All of this waiting does little more than test the alliances of the tribes as they wait and chafe. Perhaps he thinks that new leaders would emerge in the tribes to test your hold on them." Lugalbanda smiled, "So we three are all of one mind once more on an issue. What is to be done then? Give me an idea – some way to force Enmerkar's foolish mind to see that he must act or lose something out of it all. I have a thought, but, ..." "No, Lugalbanda," Anat grinned, "You would let us do all of the work." "Anat is right," the priestess laughed, "If you have a thought, then say it. You have asked for advice, not us." "I would like to move against Babylon," he said, "It is a jewel worth plucking and it is in Enmerkar's thoughts as well, thought I know not when he would ever get to it. It irks him that many tongues are allowed to be spoken there and he would subjugate the place. But I know it for what it is, a Martu city of long ago as it always has been. I would allow what they have, for I cannot think of it as a bad thing that all tongues are welcome to be spoken there. If I have a need of one who can understand a tongue that I cannot, where do I send for one to help me? I send to Babylon as I always have, no? But I do not want to move yet, for it would be too soon, and only because of this endless arguing with Aratta. I do not want to take the place in his name, for he would only ruin what is there. I want its conquest in our names, the first of the new, not just more of the old. I want to shake the gaming table a little. At the same time, I want to give the tribes a new reason to want to play at the same table as the rest." He nodded as he lifted his goblet to his lips, "I cannot be seen to have much of a hand in this, but I would send Fox and her man to guide the tribes in an uprising against Uruk. The old king will need to do something and it will make him see that he risks all in his folly. Do you think this has merit?" They thought about it and discussed as they ate. "I think it must be bolder than you have said," Anat remarked, "Let the tribes from far away join in as well. Show this to be a wider thing than just the tribes near to Uruk." The priestess grinned and nodded, "Yes! Let other kings see that Enmerkar has troubles. He will know that his neighbors would watch to see weakness in him and he will even know that. The other kings would do nothing but watch, wondering at what might cause him such trouble and thinking about their own weaknesses. For if it can happen to Enmerkar, it can also happen to any of them. It would force him to act, for if he is thought to be weakening, then he is in danger. He knows this and it would force his hand. As well, if there are many attackers, then each tribe would lose only a little of their strength in the game." Lugalbanda chuckled a little, "Sometimes I fear how I lie asleep defenseless with two lionesses in my bed. I like it, but we will need other leaders to rouse the other tribes. Let the Martu in the south rise up against Uruk directly. Let the others all over Sumer be roused as well, but let the ones in Akkadia give the most worry, for if it is seen that they come from that far off to attack Uruk,..." "Then Enmerkar might shake a little, "Nisi-ini-su said, "and hopefully he would shut up for a time about having the tired old goddess work so hard at getting a cockstand out of his wrinkled old thing." "Who is to lead then and where?" the warrior asked them. "Move the Fox and the Wolf to the rest of Sumer," Anat said, "They always move quickly and it is a lot of road to cover. Let Yanna and Illya lead in the south, but not until the rest are at least a little close." The Ba'al nodded, "Yes, I see it. Who leads out of Akkadia then? We need someone who knows the land there and the tongue well." The priestess laughed, "Your women are not dull at all, warrior. I know you. You already had the thought, I am sure. Send Sorn and Besha to the tribes in Akkadia. They can pass through there like water through sand and bring the Martu back out of the deserts with them." "Are we agreed then?" he asked them. They nodded back at him. "Yes, husband," Nisi-ini-su said as she stood up to wrap a robe around her, "as we always are. I will make sure that our brats are asleep and do not give their guards fits, since it is my turn, I think. My friend Anat has thoughts of you again. I can see it in her eyes from where I stand." Anat did her best to look innocent as she sat back with a shocked expression, shaking her head, "Not I," she laughed, "I think it is only the light of the fire that you see reflected there, surely." "Suit yourself then," the priestess said as she walked toward the door. "If nothing has begun when I return, then I will have to start something between us, I think." Lugalbanda set down his empty goblet as he watched her walk off. When he turned back, Anat's robe had already slipped off her shoulders and she was on her hands and knees moving to him. ---------------- It took some months, but at last, King Enmerkar knew that he was beset from closer in than he'd have ever thought as Amorite warriors rose out of the sands around Uruk. Nearly half of his armies were occupied either in fighting the attackers directly – when they seemed to attack out of nowhere to vanish as quickly as they'd come, or in reinforcing the garrisons of his other holdings out of the fear that the rebellion would spread. "Why do the Amorites attack me?" he asked his most powerful general one day near the entrance to one of the dead caves. Messages had gone back and forth between them for a time and now the king wanted to speak face-to-face. "Call your hounds off." Lugalbanda appeared to shrug, "They grow tired of waiting, my king. They have helped you many times to take cities, knowing that one leader over one nation of Sumer is what is needed for all of us, not only Sumerians," he said. "You said that you wanted to rule all of Sumer. How many lifetimes do you have for this? I have spent years helping you as well – as I promised that I would. Look, I am here with you, am I not? I am not leading them, am I?" He held out his hands in a helpless sort of gesture. A bowman in the trees on the other side of the main road began to draw back his bow, knowing that he'd likely have only one chance to kill the problematic general in the name of his own general – if he was successful. The arrow passed right through the apparition of Lugalbanda to splinter against the wall of the cave opening. Enmerkar gasped, but was even more shocked to see Lugalbanda walk toward him from the other direction a few moments later dragging the corpse of the archer beside him. "I suppose that you would tell me that you know nothing of who sent this man to kill me, Enmerkar," he smiled. "I even know that it is true, or you would already be dead. But let us see what we may learn." He dropped the body face-first into the dust of the road and waved his hand over it as he muttered for a moment under his breath. The dead man rose up to stand before them, weaving a little. Enmerkar jumped back in horror. A few minutes later, the body went limp again and fell down in a heap. The general regarded his king. "Tell general Marek that his life is forfeit for this. He can hide himself behind as many guards and fighters as he need to feel safe, but I would like it if you would tell him that I will come for him soon." "But I need Marek to lead in the north," the king objected. "Find another to lead," Lugalbanda shrugged, "Marek is mine for this. Tell the others that you forbid something such as this from now on. Get off your rump and begin the war with Aratta, and I will help. You need me again for this, for Aratta's king has a sorcerer that I want more than I now want Marek." He turned to go. "What of the Amorites?" Enmerkar called after him, "I use too many troops trying to keep them down, troops that would serve me better used against Aratta." "Then get more troops and better generals, Enmerkar," Lugalbanda said as he walked to the cave entrance. He stopped once to look back. "The Martu have helped you and see that they get nothing from you for it. They now grow tired of waiting for a king who calls them hounds. Hounds will only work for you if you toss them food now and then, no matter how tame they might be. These are not hounds anymore, Enmerkar. They are slavering wolves now." "Peel them off your own face, for I will not try to hold them much longer." With that, he was gone from sight into the cave and the king stood alone with a corpse. His stopgap measure was all that he could think of and a long wall was built stretching for miles across the land around Uruk to keep the Amorites out. It changed nothing. --------------- Until he was finally forced to act after the incident at the cave, it had taken ten years before Enmerkar sent an envoy to Aratta claiming that Ianna had instructed him to seek Aratta's submission. The king of Aratta stated that it was out of the question and that the same goddess had chosen him. Undaunted, the envoy stated that Ianna had promised Enmerkar to make Aratta bow to Uruk. Enmerkar offered one last tribute out of politeness to Aratta's king and waited. When the next demand for another came, Enmerkar prepared to send send his hosts against Arata and its king, Ensuhkeshdanna. Lugalbanda was kept informed of all of the diplomatic traffic and thanked the gods that he had been spared the endless travel back and forth between the two old men as they bickered. Lugalbanda sent word to his king to ready his troops to move within the week. ------------------ King Ensuhkeshdanna looked up angrily at his servant. He'd left instructions not to be disturbed for the rest of the day. He'd taken a new concubine and the girl was finally getting somewhere in her attempts at something miraculous to him as he felt his old manhood twitch and swell slightly in her mouth. He'd been feeling hopeful and a little joyous. She had thoughts in her mind that this was surely what was meant when his women spoke to each other of raising the dead. "There is a group of envoys from Uruk, lord." The servant said in a fearful voice. "A group?" the king smiled, feeling his penis grow a little more, "How many is the group? What tributes do they bring, and where are they, in the throne room? Tell them to wait for me there. I will not be more than an hour perhaps." The concubine wanted to groan and not out of hopeful anticipation. She'd been at this for a while already and her lips were long numb, though for the first time in her life, her jaw didn't ache doing this since the old man had little to stretch her mouth open for. The servant wanted to groan as well, fearful for the reaction that might come from what he had to say now. "They will not wait," he said, "they stand on a hill near the city surrounded by your troops. When anyone moves to take hold of them, they fall dead, and the envoys remain. They say that they will show you a sign that you must make some haste, or they will be gone and there will be war." The king looked up from where he stood holding the girl's hair, "Then I will not –" There was a crash followed by screams as a section of the palace came down. The king walked to the servant and took his arm, "Show me where they stand." The servant took the king to a balcony and pointed. The envoys were not far off beyond the wall on the nearest hill and there looked to be only five of them. The largest drew back a bow and sent an arrow toward the palace. It would have been a foolish thing, but King Ensuhkeshdanna saw the arrow as it grew into a large round projectile in flight which landed in his courtyard making a din with its impact which cracked walls and other masonry as it sat next to the first one. Twenty minutes later the king stepped from his chariot and walked to the group. He was amazed to see that two of the five were women. "Your final chance to agree to bow to Uruk's king, mighty Enmerkar," the large warrior said emotionlessly. The king nodded, "I see no need to cause great loss of life and destruction by a war. I propose a test of champions between us, here on this very spot in one month's time. Take that back to Enmerkar and begone." He saw the large warrior nod once and he turned to walk back to his chariot. Lugalbanda smiled a moment longer. The king turned back as he stepped up onto the chariot. He'd expected to hear something – some argument or offer of terms. But when he looked, the envoys were gone. He looked at his astounded servant. "They just faded away," the man said, "we are surely lost." "Shut up, fool," the old king said, "The large one will surely be their champion and mine will be a great sorcerer." -------------------- But it didn't go quite like all of that. On the appointed day, the sorcerer Urgirinuna materialized on the hill top and found himself bound and struggling in an instant. He was released near where the Euphrates opens out to the sea a moment later and he was alone. He looked around himself and hoped to find the one that he was to fight, but saw only a single woman walking toward him dressed in black leather armor. When he saw her long black hair, he had hopes that this one would be the best cat that he'd ever created. She had much power that he could take when she died. "You are lovely," he said, "tell me your name while I wait for the champion who I am to fight." She made no answer, other than the cause his robe to burn. He waved his hand to put it out and cast flaming pellets at her. Not one reached her. He stepped to the water's edge. Opening his hand, he cast fish eggs into the water and in a moment, the water boiled with sea creatures that began to rise out of the foam and step onto the land. The woman smirked and the water ran red as his creatures screamed and thrashed as they were devoured by the predators that she caused to appear. The wizard grew desperate and caused wave after wave of the creatures to appear, but his creations were gone from sight moments later every time. He turned, feeling his power gone, a lifetime of gathering, years beyond his own memory spent pulling power to himself, and all of it gone. He felt like the old man that he was. His robe fell away from him in tatters and he stood naked before her. The beautiful woman smirked a little and turned, walking away in silence. Urgirinuna stood staring, but he heaved a sigh of relief, seeing that at least she would spare his life. But that changed when he heard the low growl from behind him. He spun around and saw another woman walking toward him slowly. She was naked and her moves exuded pure sexuality and he was confused. He'd heard the feline growl, but, ... His eyes opened wide in terror when he saw her body change into a tall dark cat, still walking toward him on her long and shapely legs. He could even see the place in the sand behind her where the footprints of the woman were replaced by the paw prints. She walked up to him and smiled. Raising one pawed hand, she dragged her claws along his cheek and he felt the warmth of his own blood as it ran. Yanna smiled as she spoke. "You should run." King Ensuhkeshdanna stared into the metal plate that Lugalbanda held for him, watching the final moments of his champion's existence. "I can take you to the place if you wish to see what remains," the warrior said quietly. The king shook his head, knowing that this was no illusion. He took his crown from his head and set it on the table. They walked together to his balcony, going from there to the top of the long stairway that led to the square full of Aratta's people. King Enmerkar waited for them there. The walls outside were lined with his troops, and outside them, past the gate which stood open, held that way by some magical power that no one could circumvent, stood Enmerkar's host, thousands of troops standing quiet and orderly in the sun. "Allow them to see me as I bow in defeat," the king said, "after that, I will go." The warrior nodded, but before the old man could get to his knees, his head was off his shoulders and bouncing down the steps. Enmerkar was furious. "Why did you do that? I've waited years to see him grovel." "I have waited years longer for you to become king of Sumer," Lugalbanda said. "This was the last city of your plan. Declare yourself king of a land soon and not just of a group of cities. It is what all of the people need." He leaned forward so that only Enmerkar could hear him. "And do not be too long about it." A gasp rose from the crowd as Lugalbanda disappeared from their sight. ------------------ Three years later, the general appeared before the king. He could see that the king's health was failing him by the minute. "Lugalbanda," the old man gasped, "tell me, is this from that hair that your woman tied so long ago? Have I done anything to cause her anger? I have never had the chance to thank her for what she did for me on the beach against the sorcerer." His general shook his head, "No. The knot was untied long ago, Enmerkar. This is only the killer who stalks every one of us." The king nodded weakly. "I have left orders for my passing. You will be king of Uruk. I think that you would only take it anyway." "I likely would," Lugalbanda said without malice. He sat down next to the bed and the two old fighters waited for death to take the king. ------------------ Lugalbanda preferred to teach the young warriors whenever he had a bit of time. It was a better way to test his patience than anything else, he'd found. The role of a father came easily to him, bit to teach other young ones along with his own was always such a challenge. The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 10 Out of all the hopeful adolescents, there were two who always excelled but most often found themselves at odds with each other at the same time when they reached their teenage years. Ur-Nammu had always been friendly to everyone. It hadn't always worked for him, but it was the path which gave him the best chance at success. He'd always been large and exceptionally strong. Anything that required the application of a little muscle suited him, and if it required him to use his brain before he applied that force, it made him even happier for he was very intelligent as well. But there was one problem, one person where nothing worked for him anymore, and he eventually gave up his attempts with a heavy heart. From their days together as children, he'd been drawn to Dimme, and they'd been close friends and playmates. But one day as they grew into young adults - and he could never remember exactly when it had happened - Dimme turned away from him, and would have nothing to do with him. He was hurt over it and felt the loss of her friendship very keenly, especially since he knew of no reason that might have caused any rift between them. He'd even gone to her on several occasions offering his apology for something that he didn't remember doing, but she only told him to come back only if he could tell her what it was. After many tries, he just accepted sadly that their friendship had come to an end. After that, he found her to be a vicious and relentless competitor. He was aware that he was much stronger than she was and soon learned that holding back out of a sense of fairness to her bought him nothing. If he won any event or skirmish and stood to be rewarded, he knew that he could always listen as he was honored, but if he focused his eyes out far enough, sooner or later, he'd see Dimme's face glowering at him in the distance. If he allowed her to win by holding back at all – even a little, she knew it and would refuse to accept the honor. There had been a time when they were to run from one village and to another and back. Dimme and Ur-Nammu were a long way out in front of the rest and ran side by side without a word being spoken between them. At one point, Dimme stumbled and fell. Ur-Nammu stopped and walked back to her holding out his hand to help her up. She refused his help and got to her feet to begin limping. When he tried to talk to her, she ignored him. "This is stupid, "he said, "you running this way, when you could easily run as the cat which you are and already be on your way back. Let me carry you until your ankle is better, Dimme. There is no one here to see, and then you can still win this." His reward was four thin lines of blood along his shoulder. "Perhaps I wanted to be the same as you are," she growled at him, "Perhaps I wanted to win on two legs and not four. And just perhaps I wanted to be the same as Ur-Nammu, the loved one cheered by all, only once." She turned away and limped off toward her home. After that, she was rarely seen as a girl by anyone. When he was old enough, he began as a fighter in the army of his parents, working his way up through the ranks. It was expected of him. On the edge of a battlefield outside of Bilbat, after a particularly bloody battle, Ur Nammu sought out a scout who had arrived to help him when up to that point, it had looked to be his last day alive. He'd been alone and fighting for his life in a sandpit against more opponents than he could handle. Two of them were seasoned veterans and were telling the younger ones which angles to attack from. He'd been holding his own for a while, but they all knew that it was just a matter of time before he grew tired or made a mistake. All of that had changed when a large cat flew over the rim of the pit and landed among them. The cat made no sound, other than her breathing and the men now had two foes there in the pit. Only the two veterans managed to make their escape. The rest of them lay dead. When they were alone, Ur-Nammu turned to speak but the cat left him. Hours later, he found the scout in the early evening standing hidden in a patch of tall grasses, looking toward the city. The walls were already burning and it was clear that the morning would bring its fall. He stood wondering how to begin when the scout spoke. "You owe me nothing, fighter," she said over her shoulder, "I only did what was needed to save the best warrior for another day. Leave me be." "I cannot, "Ur-Nammu said. "I once counted you as my dearest friend. We played in the dirt together when we were small. We were always together as we grew up. You turned from me one day and I have spent years wondering what I did wrong, what slight it was that I still break my head over trying to remember. You will have nothing to do with me. You shun me when I offer you help and now you save my life. And still I know not what I did to you to earn your hatred of me. I owe you my life no matter what you say, and I am here to thank you for it." She sighed, "Then say your thanks and go. If you take too long with it, I will only try to kill you myself." He snorted, "Kill me then, at the least you will have to turn around to do it and I would welcome a last look at one whose friendship I have missed for so long." He watched her ears flick here and there as she listened for movement in the grass while she listened to him as well. The end of her tail twitched nervously. "Go," she said finally, "there must be maidens who await such a strong warrior tonight. I have heard that you will be a general soon. That will earn you many women." "No one awaits me, other than a servant." he said, "I have no women near me when I go to war. You and I are the same here, Dimme. -" "We are not the same," she said to the grasslands in front of her, "You have your own tent because you are already a leader. You have a servant because of that rank." He shrugged though she couldn't see it, "He cares for my armor and my weapons. Now and then he brings food. You will be a leader soon, Dimme. I know this. I know of everything that you have done in every battle. I always ask about you when I can, and I know that you have your own tent." She was a little surprised, but she didn't show it. She snorted, "I have my tent because no one wants to sleep near to a cat. You have no women here, perhaps, but you have women at your home," she said. "There are ten of them. I have seen them come and go. When you become a general, you will win often as your father has always done. When that happens, you will be offered tributes, riches and women." He corrected her gently, "You forget your own history, Dimme. They are a tribute from old Shahbek to use as I wish. I choose to use them as spies and guards, since they are deadly and I can trust them, and I earn their trust by never making nightly demands of them. They are free to seek their own lovers as they wish. Two are older than both of our mothers and I use them to keep order and for their counsel and advice. I love them dearly, every one, Dimme, but none of them share my bed there." He looked down for a moment, "I have had slaves now and again. I have always treated them well and I sometimes took one to bed. But never if it was not dark, Dimme. If I could see her, then I could not pretend that she was another who I have never stopped wanting. After a time, I could not even pretend any more. I have not had a slave since." He couldn't see it as her eyes opened wider for a moment, and then settled back to the lifeless expression that she held most often these days. He stepped forward and she snarled as she tensed, but she didn't turn, and Ur-Nammu didn't flinch. "Dimme," he beseeched softly from just behind her ear, "I meant it. You will have to kill me this time to drive me away. I owe you my life, so it is yours to take as you wish. I need an answer, and it is worth my life to me now. What did I do to lose the girl that I always hoped to have near to me when we grew up?" "You will have to ask that girl," she said, "whoever she is. I am a cat." "You are that girl," he said as he touched her shoulder. "By the gods, Dimme, tell it to me so that I can say that I am sorry and I will at the least be ready to die by your hand." She snorted again, "That is a very good lie, Ur-Nammu. A fool might even believe you." "Everyone loves you," she said, "I move through the crowds as we travel and I hear what is said of you. We crush armies and conquer cities, but long before we come, all of the women in those cities have heard of handsome and mighty Ur-Nammu. Half of them hold a hope to be bedded by you! Everything lands at your feet, including women who would throw themselves there gladly." "That may be," he said, "but you move too far ahead. I listen and smile because it is expected of me, and I have even seen one or two fools who do as you say, but you do not see it when I step over them and walk on. When did you ever see me do more than talk to anyone?" he asked, "When was it that you thought that another ever had my heart? Tell me, Dimme, for now I would know the moment when I lost you and knew it not. All that I knew was that I lost you before I ever had you to hold to me. If it means that I must die to know why, then please, let it be so. All that lands on me is nothing without the smile that I have not seen in years now." She gasped quietly, "You cannot mean that. You have everything, or you will soon enough." "Everything," he said. "A word that has no meaning. What I have is a lot of what I do not care about but it rains on my head every day. I hold out my hand and something falls into it unbidden. But I have been holding out my hand for another and that hand has not been there for me to hold in years, now that we are old enough. If I cannot hold your hand, then I am poorer than any beggar and always will be. I do not want all of these women that you speak of. I have always wanted one girl." "I am a – " He spun her around and they saw each other's wet eyes then. He also saw the deep gash on her arm and the blood which covered her hand below it. His eye went to the blood on the ground momentarily, hidden as it had been by the tall grass. He stared at what he saw, "You save my life and would do nothing for your own. Why? You threaten me, but you would not turn so that I would not see that you are hurt." She struggled to form a glib answer, but none would come. She tried to be sarcastic and that failed her as well. Ur-Nammu saw the one that he'd grown from childhood with as she stood weaving slightly and weeping while she tried to raise her other hand in a weakly threatening gesture. He wanted to curse, but he shook his head in a sad and determined way. "If you have the strength for it, Dimme, try to kill me now. I care not, but I will carry you to my tent even if you try. That wound needs to be tended, no matter how hard your head is." Before she could protest, she was in his arms as he strode to his tent and when he got near, he bellowed for his servant. Dimme tried to protest then, but he said that now she had to wait until she was healed to kill him. She wanted to argue the point, but he only smiled in a grim way and told her to shut up so that she might save her strength, she could rail at him when she was better. He laid her down on his bed and told his servant to bring two metal bowls of clean water. He arranged some of the bedding on her so that he could work. "This scout was wounded hours ago, "Ur-Nammu said, "Give me your stitching needles and thread. Then bring me the cleanest singlet of mine that you can find and lay it aside." The man nodded and ran. Ur-Nammu knelt beside her, holding his hand above the wound. She felt the gash begin to tingle. Dimme's eyes opened wide at how fervently Ur-Nammu prayed the whole time. "I have never seen this done before by anyone but priestesses." He stopped reciting one prayer, but his hands kept working on two others. "This wound is hours old. The edges are long- dried and the cut was opened in battle. I fear for my old friend, even though she hates me and will not tell me why." He shook his head. "What has happened to you, Dimme? You watch my house enough to count the guards, but you forget who my mother and my father are? Did you think that I spend my time only learning to fight? You have spent your time poorly if you think that all that I do is try to fuck with the ones who guard my home or the ones who make offers to me for it. You should either watch more closely or try to spend your time in better ways." He pulled his singlet over his head and looking for the cleanest parts, he tore strips from it as she watched him. The servant came in carrying two bowls of water. He told the man where to place them and Ur-Nammu put the needles into one bowl. The strips went into the other bowl. The servant stood by and Ur-Nammu was about to yell at him out of his frustration, but he knew that it would serve no purpose. "Go and ask the leader of the group of scouts to come here, if he will." The servant nodded and ran out of the tent. Dimme stared at the bowls as they steamed and boiled with nothing to heat them. He passed his hand over them and carefully washed the wound with a strip from one bowl. "The water is cool," she said, "How?" "I do what I need to help you, "he said, "I hope that your stubbornness left with the blood that was lost. You will stay with me now until this has healed. Maybe by then, you can tell me why we cannot be what we once were at the least." She watched as he threaded one of the needles. She hissed in a bit of pain when he began, but Ur-Nammu passed his hand over her flesh and after that he took the pain himself instead. Dimme didn't notice it at first. "I am a cat!" she tried to shout at him, "Are you blind? You talk as though you do not know this. Why do you think that I am always like this when I am near to you? I am a cat." He worked quickly and she saw that he grimaced a little, so she asked. "You tense when the needle goes in. I will do a better job if you are calm and not waiting for the pain of every stitch. I take your pain until it is done." "Why?" He looked up from his efforts, "Because you are a cat, and I am a fool if I caused you to turn from me." He kept working as quickly as he could. "Once I thought that you were a girl who could be a cat. But now I think that you are a cat who is really an ass." He chuckled, "Surely the prettiest ass in all the world, but an ass all the same." She said it very quietly and it came out of her as almost a whisper, but he heard it nonetheless, "I do not hate you." She almost smiled weakly when he smirked at her as he did his best, "Then at the least my life has some small meaning at last." He worked at pulling the ends to knot them. "There will be a line on your pretty arm. I cannot help this. But it is closed now and we will have to wait to see if there is a fever from it." He washed the blood from his hands and wiped the closed wound gently. When he was done, he recited three prayers for her at once while she watched him. His servant returned and said that Dimme's leader was coming. Ur Nammu nodded and asked for food and water for them. "I know that you are a cat, "he said, "I have known you since we were too young to speak. I still have thin scars on me somewhere from your first lessons to me as we played. What has happened, Dimme? I have always known this about you. I still do not understand. What made you turn from me?" She spoke through her tears, "I am a cat, and you are a man who will be mighty one day in more than skill at arms," she sobbed a little, "You might even be king." She sighed, "But I am a cat. You cannot love a cat. You cannot take a cat to wife if you are a general and might be a king." "I still ask the same thing," he said, "What has happened? You speak as if this is something new. Your father is a man – who loves a cat, when your mother is not a woman. Why can I not love you?" "Because of who you are – or will be one day. I thought of this and I wanted you to find a real girl for yourself." He stared at her in disbelief. "Why?" She sobbed a little, "Because as you become important, you will need a wife, not a cat." She hid her face with her other hand, but he gently pulled it away. "Dimme, ... You can say what you like, but all that I have heard from you are words that you use to try to push me away as you have for so long. I am not one who seeks anything for myself but your friendship. I always dreamed that you might love me. I am the son of the Priestess and the Warrior-Priest. I have a part that I must play, but there is still some small room in it for what I want. You should have spoken to me." He shook his head as he blamed himself, "No, I should have known. You always think of how things must go behind the show when important people meet. You always told me what was happening behind the meetings. I have missed this from you for a long time. This is why?" He lowered his head and looked into her amber eyes. "This is why you drew away?" She sniffled as she nodded, "Because of who you are." He looked at the ceiling of the tent, blinking hard for a long moment. It didn't help. She saw the tears roll from his cheeks. "Try to eat something if you can," he said, pointing at the food, "and I will tell you what I will do with who I am. I will make certain that my fighters are where they need to be in the morning so that my part is done to make the city fall. I will post a hundred men around this tent if I must so that you stay here while I am gone. I will speak with your leader to tell him that I have you here and you are injured and in my care. No one will oppose me because of who I am." A minute later, the leader of Dimme's group stood in the tent. Ur-Nammu rose to his feet and looked down on the wiry scout. He had always gotten along well with the man and he explained what had happened. Dimme was released from duty instantly. "I have heard of how you can heal, "the man said, "do what you can for her, Ur-Nammu, I have no one like her." He left after getting some of Dimme's version of the story and Ur-Nammu knelt beside her again. "I am sorry that I did not see what you thought to do for me. I see now how you think about this. It could have been avoided. When this is over, I will take you to see the healers in the keep to see what might be done about the scar. I will take care of you because of who I am." She watched two more tears fall from his eyes as his closed fist thudded against the center of his own chest. "I am a man who loves you, Dimme, and I am one who wants nothing more than to sleep very near to a cat. I am in your debt and if I have my way, I will always take care of you and hope that one day I might have your love. And if I am lucky enough for that, Dimme, I will go to your parents and ask for your hand, because THAT is who I am." She stared at him, "You - you still love me?" "Now you are the fool," he sighed, "I have always loved you," Ur-Nammu smiled, "I have never stopped loving you all of our lives. If I must be a general, I can do that. If I must be a king and think for the people, I can do that as well. But I will be nothing if I cannot have your love because of these things that I am expected to be. I want none of it then." He moved a little and he took her face in his large hands. "I cannot think that I have ever said one thing to make you think that I was not your friend, or ... maybe I should have told you how I felt before. I only wanted you. I care not if there are any who think that it is wrong that we are together. If I go higher than this, what does it matter what anyone thinks?" She shook her head, "I thought that it would not be seen to be right, being with me when you rose to claim what will be yours." The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 10 "What do you think that our parents would say?" he asked, "They wonder why just as I have, Dimme. Your mother told me that you gave her no answers when she asked. The only thing wrong that I can see is that I should have stopped wondering and acted sooner, before you took this notion." He looked down at her with a small smile, "You know, you cannot turn to the girl here. Your arm is a little longer this way, and you will ruin the stitching if you change. You will have to remain a cat until I take the stitches out." He reached for her face and slid his hand to her shoulder. "I must go to do all of the things that need to be done. Please, Dimme, stay with me and do not go. If you have any need, call to my man outside. I will return soon and I need to pray more to keep the fever from you. I would be happy if I can only sleep near you. Do you need my help to pull this singlet on?" She shook her head, "I think that I can manage it, Ur-Nammu. I am small enough to crawl inside it while you are gone. But now I think that maybe you were right," Dimme said quietly as she looked at his face. She reached up to move his hair over his shoulder, and then she touched his face, "I am a cat who is really an ass." For the first time since they were children, he kissed the girl that he'd always loved. Dimme responded as much as she could for a few moments. "I am even more the ass, my old friend," she said, "to think that I could have had kisses like yours for years now." He did his best to make her comfortable and then left to do what his rank required of him. ----------------- It wasn't that easy. The fever from the infection due to the dirty blade was already beginning when they were speaking in the tall grass, and it hit Dimme with a vengeance. Ur-Nammu spent a long night in prayer and swabbing her sweat, and she begged him to hold her when it went the other way and she shivered. His singlet was soaked through. He took it off her and she sat up shaking violently so that he could put another one on her. He rested, but he got no sleep. In the early hours of the dawn, the servant fed Dimme soup while Ur-Nammu and his fighters pushed their part of the line ahead into the beleaguered defenders. He was weary by then, but he still managed a laugh when he found the two veterans from the day before backed up against an overturned cart. "Come and fight me now, the both of you at once," he chuckled, "I have proven that I can hold off ten. I think that killing two might be done." After a tense moment, he gestured to them to drop their blades. "The fortunes of war," he grinned at them, "A very fickle girl, the goddess of fate. Can either of you speak Sumerian or Martu?" They nodded, being Martu, and became two of the very few prisoners taken as Bilbat ceased to be a city. Ur-Nammu's group was released from the action and by the early afternoon, Dimme sat shivering, bundled in anything that he could wrap her lithe body with on the floor of his chariot with her back to the front of it and her arms and legs wrapped around him as much as she could. She groaned quietly, hoping that he wouldn't hear, and wondering if she'd have any teeth left in her head from the constant jarring when they got home. When they stopped for a meal, Dimme saw the two and recognized them as she sat in his arms afterward. "Why are they still alive?" she asked, "Those are the last of the ones who were busy trying to kill you. They were using you to teach the younger ones." "I know it," he smiled, just happy that she was still alive and could speak, "that is why they are still alive. They are not from Bilbat. They are Martu mercenaries and fight for pay. And they can teach. It is their luck to be on the losing side. Now they will teach for my father for two years and be well paid." Dimme couldn't comprehend it, "This is beyond me, "she said, "Why do you do this? They have no loyalty if they fight for pay. I would kill them." He nodded as he kissed her cheek from behind. The two old soldiers stared as they ate what they were given. He pulled the blanket closer around her. "You know so much about what happens when kings meet, but I know a little here. They will obviously not get their pay from Bilbat's dead king. They are nearing the end of their prime as fighters and they know it, but they may be very useful as teachers, and I may give them a chance for it." "They tried to kill you," she reminded him. He nodded, "When you fight for pay, your allegiance goes where the gold is." She spent the night in his arms again and on the third day, they reached the keep. Though he worked with the other healers, he never left her side until the fever broke and she slept peacefully. When she awoke, she asked about Ur-Nammu. Her mother smiled and Nisi-ini-su pointed to the warrior asleep on top of the other bed, still wearing the same clothes. She nodded as she got up and brought him a blanket. Covering him, she looked back. The two women nodded and left the room smiling. Dimme slipped under the blanket and he woke to find her wrapped around him. As if they were trying to make up for the lost time, they spent as much time together as they could after that. Ur-Nammu loved the feel of her body against his, but there was an understanding between their families, and it had been passed to him by his own mother as she spoke to the young pair one evening not long after at his set of rooms in the old keep. "We are all happy and pleased that you both have found each other's hearts at last," she said. "But now we set only one rule, and that is a wish from a pair of mothers. The year ends and with that end comes Dimme's birthday. That day marks the first day that we give our full blessing to what grows between you, being the first one of her full womanhood in the eyes of the faith. We wish that you wait the three weeks. After that, you may begin and if it is good, what you discover together, then my friend Yanna and I will begin to plan for your wedding." Twenty days later, Ur-Nammu found Dimme in the tall grass of a hilltop. She took his hand and led him to Anat's cottage. "We could have done this earlier," she smiled, "and it has been as much torture to wait for me as I know that it has been for you. We were old enough for it three years ago, but our mothers asked now, and I knew that if we waited until today, Anat would lend us this little place to stay warm in while no one disturbs us. I have arranged for food to be brought here in the evening." He was a little amazed. "How?" Dimme looked out the small window at the first of the really heavy clouds which drew near. "Now it is you who forgets what we were, Ur-Nammu. Anat has always been as a second mother to you. But she is my godmother and has always loved me dearly. I asked her for this and she granted it. I made my own arrangements for the food to be brought. You are stuck here with me until we poke our heads out of the door to walk back to the keep." She turned around and he saw that her face was set in a look of contemplation for a moment. "It begins to snow and we both know that in this vale, the snow can remain and grow deep if a few priestesses command it. There is a storm coming and it is driven by all of them." She sighed as it began to get difficult to see the keep through the flurries. "I was asked for a wish that I might make on the morning of my twenty-first birthday. I chose to ask to have the one who loves me tested by being a prisoner here with me. They asked me what was to be tested and all that I said was that I wanted to know the depth of your love for your cat. They all agreed." Her look brightened into a soft smile, "I think that we may be here for a month. Did you have anything planned?" "Yes," he said, nodding, "but what I thought of is not possible if you stand that far away from me." ------------------- Their wedding was a quiet one, kept secret, so that the plan would not need to be changed much. Dimme bore him twin girls twice and a son in between, all of them changelings. In their sixth year together, an attempt was made on his house in Eridu to kill his family while he was on campaign. Several of Shahbek's assassins were killed as they defended his children. Between them, Dimme and the women killed more than thirty men. When Ur-Nammu learned of what had happened, he sought answers and Shahbek was able to provide them. The young general reminded himself that not everyone in the city where the plot had been hatched was guilty of anything, but even so, the king, his council and the entire defending army died in one long and very bloody day. More than twenty thousand perished as the city fell, and the center of the place was razed to the ground, palace and all. The general was known as The Destroyer afterward. Ur-Nammu rebuilt it, creating many homes, buildings, and gardens, trying to remove the dark shadow of hatred that had grown there.