Queen of the Gryphons: Ishtar's Legacy: Books 1 & 2

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Queen of the Gryphons: Ishtar's Legacy: Books 1 & 2 Page 10

by Lisa Blackwood


  Ditanu was not annoyed with her, his grumpy expression was for anyone else who ventured too close to his cubs.

  Ahassunu was giving her own growls of warning.

  Ah. Here were the gryphon parents she’d expected to see last night.

  Taking her cue from them, she glowered at anyone who tried to get too close.

  As the other Shadows started to clear a path to the temple stairs, Iltani manhandled more councilors and nobles. When they still didn’t take the hint, she tossed back her cloak and rested one hand on the hilt of her sword.

  They finally took the hint and backed off a few steps, enough that the king and his entourage could move toward the stairs unhindered. At this rate, maybe they’d make it to the temple before sunset.

  Iltani straightened her spine and prepared for a very long day.

  ***

  While it hadn’t taken half the day just to reach the temple, unfortunately, it was a long drawn out affair. Once they’d reached their destination, High Priestess Kammani and several of her priests and priestesses were already there waiting for them with refreshments and quiet places for the gryphons to shapeshift back to human form and dress.

  The king chose to remain in gryphon form, saying it was to comfort the cubs. Iltani had interacted with the cubs for less than a day but already knew the cubs were familiar with their parents’ ability to shape-shift and were not stressed by Ditanu in his human form in the least.

  Ditanu must have another reason for wanting to retain his gryphon form. Iltani would bet it had something to do with his returning nightmares. While they waited for half the Shadows to take on human form in the side chambers, Iltani took the opportunity to join Ditanu as he stood by a window, looking out toward the ocean.

  In gryphon form, he stood a head taller than her but probably weighed five times as much.

  “You’re worried about something?”

  His closest tufted ear flicked in her direction while he stared steadily out the window. “I am a king—there’s always something to worry about.”

  “Yes, but unless you’ve changed more than I believe you have, this is something more.”

  Turning to her, he dipped his head, rubbing against her side in a showing of gryphon affection. Iltani returned his loving gesture by reaching up and grooming the feathers on his head. He leaned into her scratch, shifting every so often so she could reach the best spots.

  His eyes drifted closed in pleasure.

  They stood like that for a few moments. Not king and Blade, but just friends.

  “My King?” Burrukan’s voice prodded them out of their moment of shared affection. “We are ready. Whenever you wish us to leave, we can.”

  “Then we should go,” Ditanu agreed. Giving himself a shake, he ruffled all his fur and then flicked his wings before slicking all his feathers back in place.

  Once Ditanu’s entourage emerged, Kammani dropped her persona of High Priestess for a short time and greeted her nephew with a warm welcome. To each of the cubs, she gave a kiss and a good head scratch before clasping Ahassunu’s shoulders and kissing each of her cheeks.

  The welcome done and over with, the business of prayer, politics, and court intrigue commenced.

  ***

  For the majority of the ceremony, Priestess Kammani and Consort Ahassunu took the lead. Iltani decided the naming of an heir was a direly serious business, which even at half the length of time, would still have been deadly boring.

  Throughout the ceremony, the king scanned everything around him, his dark eyes missing nothing. Iltani endeavored to outperform him. Though, in the end, she doubted it was possible. She wasn’t a gryphon parent.

  The afternoon waned and the sun sank lower in the sky while high up in the temple the priestess held the oldest cub aloft and declared her the crown princess, Ditanu’s heir, and future guardian to all those of gryphon blood.

  Iltani echoed the prayers and chants as required, thinking that should nothing untoward happen in the next hundred years, Humusi would be the next Gryphon Queen. Glancing at the tiny cub chewing on the priestess’s belt, Iltani grinned, having a hard time visualizing this little one all grown up into a fierce ruler.

  The rites droned on for some time afterward. Iltani stopped paying attention to the ceremony, but her attention to the world around her never waned, nor did Ditanu’s. At last the ceremony was over, the nobles cheered, servants brought out platters of food, and wine began to flow.

  The celebration would run long into the night, but Iltani wouldn’t see it through to the end. She would be at her own ceremony. At last, Ditanu called his escort to him and announced he and his family would retire to the temple for private prayers to Ishtar. If some of his guests thought he wanted to give his cubs rest from the noise of the celebration, she imagined he was all right with their assumptions.

  They left behind the noise and drunken bustle of the celebration and Iltani felt the peace of the temple wrap around her. Currents of Ishtar’s power played against her skin and raised gooseflesh. Once again, she felt Ishtar’s attention upon them. Ditanu must have felt the same thing for the big gryphon shook out his wings and his tail twitched gently as he looked over his shoulder at her.

  Outwardly, he showed no other signs of his nervous apprehension or the eagerness she felt reverberating along their link.

  Priests and priestesses came forward, bringing with them bowls of water for washing, goblets of wine, and more platters of food. The room Iltani found herself in was warm sandstone with beautiful carvings and paintings of Ishtar. Ringing the outside of the walls, were more of the large stone archways allowing in the ocean breeze.

  From her east-facing vantage point, Iltani watched the first of the stars appear against the night sky.

  Soon the moon would rise and it would be time for the ceremony.

  The servants came forward offering the king food and drink. He waved them away with a flick of his tail but instructed them to serve the rest of his entourage. Then with a glance over his shoulder at Iltani and a flick of his tail in invitation, he paced away from the rest of the escort, his large paws silent on the stone floor. Four equally silent Shadows followed.

  Iltani started after him but was waylaid by Kuwari. He cried and clawed at her boots, begging to be picked up. She reached down and scooped him up. He was shivering as if afraid.

  “Oh, little one, there is no danger here in the heart of Ishtar’s temple. You are safe.” When Iltani looked up from the cub in her arms, she found Burrukan was there to take him off her hands. “I will come back for you, little Mite. I won’t be gone long. You have my word.” She kissed the cub on the forehead and gave him to her mentor. Kuwari continued to fuss, but Burrukan walked him back to his mother.

  Glancing where she’d last seen the king, she found he’d halted, waiting for her. High Priestess Kammani stood at his side now too. Not wanting to keep either the king or the high priestess waiting, she hurried over to them and ignored the soft cries of Kuwari.

  Priestess Kammani hadn’t changed much in the four years since Iltani had last seen her, the familiar warm glint was still in her eyes, so too was that smile which lurked at the corners of her lips. When Iltani reached them, the high priestess spread her arms and took her into a fierce embrace.

  Perhaps it was breaking some formal protocol, but Iltani hugged her back, for Ditanu’s aunt was the closest thing either of them had to a mother.

  “Look at you,” Kammani said with an approving tone. “You’ve grown even more beautiful, and it’s nice to see Burrukan hasn’t completely turned you into one of his stern-faced, disapproving Shadows. Unfortunately, as much as I’d love to reminisce, we have another ceremony to prepare for. I have instructed my acolytes to prepare baths for both of you. There you will also find your ceremonial garb.”

  Ditanu huffed softly in agreement and allowed himself to be led deeper into the temple.

  Iltani followed.

  Chapter 10

  Iltani had thought the blooding c
eremony would not begin until she was outside, under the stars and in the moonlight.

  She was wrong.

  The ceremony began the moment she and Ditanu were led away by the priestess. She and the king paced side by side as they entered the bathing chamber.

  She supposed it represented unity and balance and being in accord, and other such drivel but she was secretly pleased for it allowed her to stay near the king. When they made it halfway across the room, priestesses, priests, and novices descended upon them.

  They took her sword and daggers, and then her harness and bow and arrow. While one novice was removing Iltani’s few hair ornaments, another was unlacing her sandals while a priestess was stripping away her robes.

  A priest to Iltani’s immediate right was droning on about going before Ishtar bare to reveal one’s true beauty.

  While the priest droned on in his monotone, the two acolytes flanking him continued to chant prayers to the gods and Ishtar in particular.

  Rolling her eyes in the king’s direction, Iltani swallowed a smile at seeing his tufted ears threatening to pin themselves to his skull. Upon first glance, it looked like the priests were grooming his feathers for him until the first feather was carefully selected and pulled free with considerable force.

  Iltani knew this was the part of the ceremony where the gryphon king gave offerings for his Blade. The feathers would later be woven into her ceremonial garb. The number of feathers donated was always determined by the king. Curious, she watched wondering how many he would allow pulled for her.

  Between the two priests, they pulled six of the king’s secondary flight feathers, enough to leave unsightly gaps when he spread his wings, but not enough to ground him. That was far more generous than many a king had been in the past, and still, Ditanu stood to allow them to take more.

  One of the priests paused and glanced at the High Priestess. Kammani nodded. After a brief hesitation, the priest resumed, taking smaller feathers from Ditanu’s body.

  The king allowed them to continue plucking him until they had fifteen feathers by Iltani’s count, at which point he suddenly growled, his tail twitching. The priests dropped and prostrated themselves on the floor.

  Had Ditanu been in his human form, Iltani was confident he would’ve worn a scowl.

  Though, Iltani was flattered by the number Ditanu had bestowed upon her.

  They were ten paces away from the ceremonial pool when Ditanu halted. His sandalwood and spice scent intensified and Iltani felt the brush of his warm power against her overly sensitive skin. Gooseflesh raced over her body.

  The shift was too fast to see much of anything, just a shimmer of light and then Ditanu was standing beside her in human form.

  Forcing her eyes away from him, she turned her attention back to the bath.

  Small wisps of steam rose from the ceremonial pool, promising that the communal bath was warm. The priests and priestesses aiding them began removing their own robes as they prepared to enter the water.

  A sideways glance showed a delectably naked, golden-skinned king watching her back, his eyes hooded and his expression presently unreadable.

  What did he see when he looked at her?

  Had there been a time in their youth when he looked upon her as a woman and not just his Shadow?

  She shook off the webbings of old longings and stepped into the bathing pool. Perhaps this night would wash away that dull ache in her heart, and she could finally start anew, as Ishtar’s Blade.

  The ceremonial bath did not actually take that long.

  She and the king quietly walked the expanse of the pool, as the priests and priestesses sang their chants and blessings upon them. When they reached the other side, more priests and priestesses were waiting with scented oils and towels. She continued her slow pace, allowing the priestesses to buff her with warm towels and then anoint her body with sacred oils. King Ditanu was undergoing the same ritual.

  Directly ahead, two benches were burdened with their ceremonial garb. Iltani arched an eyebrow when she reached her bundle. She must have made some sound for Ditanu laughed. She glanced at him to see his attendants tying on his ornate loincloth.

  He tossed her own words back at her. “Ishtar demands her people embrace their own natural splendor.”

  Iltani grunted, her eyes sliding back to the clothing and then over to Ditanu. He was grinning at her. She flushed and grew more flustered at the glint of humor in his eyes. He might have spoken in jest, but Iltani couldn’t help but think Ishtar might not be the only one to enjoy the sight of a nearly naked, well-made body. Her eyes lingered upon Ditanu longer than they should.

  Ishtar wasn’t the only one to enjoy the king’s natural grace.

  Turning back to her own attendants, Iltani held her arms out from her sides and allowed them to fasten her garments in place. A golden chain went around her waist, its many translucent veils, like streamers of light, fluttered in the breeze coming in through the archways. Iltani supposed she should be grateful for the clothing.

  The ancient texts said that the Queen of the Night was often depicted in her winged form nude save for the golden chains in her hair.

  Next, a young priestess wrapped a length of fabric around Iltani’s breasts. She wasn’t modest, which was good because the length of cloth barely met the needs of modesty. Of greater annoyance was the fact that the strip of material would be next to useless as a breast binding.

  Granted, it was highly unlikely that she would need to do battle in such an outfit.

  When she glanced across to the king, he was grinning. She frowned at him darkly.

  His grin grew larger.

  “When all this is over,” he said, that damn smile still lurking at the edges of his expression, “I will have armor made, something suitable for Ishtar’s new Blade.”

  High Priestess Kammani interrupted Iltani before she could make a response. Urging them both forward, she led them out onto the temple’s roof. Torches circled the outer edge, marking the boundary of the roof and illuminating the area with an orange glow. In the center of the space, a small fire burned in a shallow depression carved from the stone of the roof.

  Next to the fire was a long bench-like altar. This one was far older and far more ornate than the simple one she and the king had used to perform the first blood ceremony. As she approached the altar, she could feel its age and power. This was the place where other kings had shed blood to anoint Ishtar’s Blades throughout history.

  Perhaps it was not such a long list as Iltani’s supposed, but she was still humbled by the ancient stone.

  Priestess Kammani led them on a winding path to their destination. Some of the lesser priests and priestesses joined their voices together as they chanted blessings upon Ishtar’s newest Blade.

  When Iltani reached the altar, she calmly straddled the bench and sat with hands braced in front of her while she waited. Her tension increased. The fire’s heat caused sweat to bead on her flesh. She would blame the heat. It certainly couldn’t be nerves. They had already completed the blooding ceremony twice.

  She swallowed. This time was different. Now they had an audience of priests and priestesses. There was also the growing suspicion that here, on top of Ishtar’s own temple, the Queen of the Night would make her presence known far more intimately than the first two times.

  A stolen glance in Ditanu’s direction showed he had his blank mask in place. So, he was tense, too. Knowing he was as nervous, made her feel better in comparison.

  While Iltani had been deep in her own thoughts, Priestess Kammani had handed the king an ancient blade. It had a smooth bone hilt and a blade of antique hammered copper.

  The king approached the bench and then hesitated. She sensed his unease and something else, another’s presence on the roof with them. A banked, simmering magic.

  Ishtar was upon the roof with them.

  Iltani squared her shoulders and waited. The next part was up to the king.

  After another long hesitation on his part,
she finally sensed him moving and heard the soft scrape of cloth as he settled on the bench behind her. Her ears straining, she heard a slight intake of breath, likely at the first cut.

  Inhaling a deep breath, she caught the sharp coppery scent of his blood. He shifted closer until she could feel his body heat. One arm reached around her waist and dragged her back until the length of her spine was sealed to his chest. The warmth of his blood began to flow, trickling down her spine. In its wake, her birthmark began to tingle.

  As before, he braced the arm not wrapped around her waist against the bench in front of her, leaning over her forcing her forward. Again, she was cocooned in his warmth, his scent, his strength—all of it so very addicting.

  His power and essence flowed into her with his blood, drawn in along the length of her spine. From there it spread out to every corner of her body. It was glorious, painful, and powerful all at once.

  Her magic stirred and flared, her body beginning to glow from within. Ishtar’s mark pulsed with heat, echoing the beat of her heart. It took her longer to realize it matched Ditanu’s, but she could feel her king’s mighty heart beating in tune to hers.

  She felt his essence stamped into her soul.

  It had always been there, but now the link was greater. There would never be any doubt as to where he was. She could be in another land, many months distant from him and still she would know where on the planet he was.

  His cubs, too.

  She would sense their joy and pain and sorrow.

  She would always be able to find them.

  Keep them safe.

  Perhaps Ishtar’s greatest gift was a secret, unseen one. Iltani now owned a piece of Ditanu, it was rooted in her soul. Just as surely, she belonged to him.

  Happiness bubbled up inside.

  She wanted to throw her arms open wide and laugh joyously in thanks to Ishtar. It battled with the urge to turn and wrap her king in a fierce hug.

 

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