“You must risk much to gain much. There is no need to speak of it again. Why have you come?”
Hel lowered his voice. There was no easy way to ask this. “I seek to borrow some things from your collection.”
The tip of the spear was at Hel’s throat before he could take a breath. The old man’s eyelid twitched. “What collection?”
“Father, I do not test you. I seek only that which may protect the High Priestess.”
“Why?”
“I cannot tell you. By her command.”
The craggy face so familiar to Hel studied him, before nodding and standing abruptly. “If it be for the High Priestess, it is for the Goddess. And for the Goddess, I have sworn to do anything.” He shook his head ruefully as he pulled a lose brick from the wall beside his bed. “I do not know why I thought you wouldn’t remember these. You were there when I found most of them.”
Hel remembered. He’d watched the powerful man digging through the rubble of shimmering stone and sharp-edged rocks to find his strange treasures. He’d been fascinated. By all of it. He’d even kept a few things of his own, things he would take with him now, in case he needed to trade to keep Xian safe.
He wouldn’t have to if he spoke out now. Why wasn’t he calling the ready guard for this journey? Why, instead, was he preparing in secret, when he knew how the Temple and the Sun Guard would react to the High Priestess leaving the city unscheduled, and with only one protector?
He could say it was because he was bound to follow her orders, but that was not the case. There were some laws even the High Priestess was bound to. Most meant for her safety, to ensure the continuation of their way of life. But that was not why.
The true answer came readily enough. He wanted her for himself. A few days with no one but Xian at his side. A few days where she wasn’t called upon to train the Breeders, encourage the midwives, overlook the artisans or soothe the citizens of Kroy Wen with her sensual rituals.
The High Priestess was the most sought-after person in the city. Hel often wished she would rest, take some time to herself. But she never did. She gave of herself every day, and would until she died. As would he. It was their path.
The only thing she did not participate in was the lottery, a fact with which he could only feel relief. The thought of another man touching her made his blood boil. She was his. It was a primitive feeling, one she’d never encouraged or reciprocated, but it was strong. From the moment he’d seen her as a young boy he’d known it. A quiet voice inside him wondered if, without the demands of the Temple weighing on her shoulders, she would know it too.
His Father made a pleased sound, and pulled out several unusual objects. “Here. This is no doubt what you were thinking of. I was going to give them to you anyway. Consider them my gift to you.”
Hel smiled. “You are too generous, thank you. Follow the path of the Peaceful Sun, my Father.”
The old man nodded, reaching once more for his spear. “May the Goddess guide you through the darkness, boy.”
Now he just had to get a few more things in order, and he would be ready to take his Priestess anywhere she wanted to go.
Chapter Two
Xian handed the sealed hemp scroll to the courier. “Timing is essential. High Priestess of the Temple of The S’Anilorac is to receive this at the Wild Moon. Not a moment before or after. Is that understood?”
“Yes, High Priestess.” The swift-footed eunuch bowed his head, leaving the main prayer chamber with his head lowered in reverence. Xian had no worries for him. In the camouflaged, protective garb of a courier, running the coastlines, he should safely avoid all enemies…including the pirates that scoured the shores. There were several caves and overhangs along the route to protect him from the strongest light of day, and he could do most of his running at night. She prayed for him, and that her fellow High Priestess would understand the missive.
She noticed Hel appear in the hallway, his nod causing her heart to pound. All must be ready then. He hadn’t told his brothers in arms, elsewise they would have been demanding an audience.
Was she truly going to do this?
Yes. She had to. If she was to serve the people in the name of the Goddess, there was no other way.
Xian tried not to let Hel’s presence distract her as she took care of the rest of her Temple business. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be gone, and she wanted everything to be settled before she left. Though she admitted she should have been done much earlier. She was hesitating.
This main prayer hall had always inspired her, given her strength. It had high curving walls, polished smooth and glistening with beautiful shades of red, brown and slate gray in the torch and candlelight. She used to sit in the corner, watching her mentor guide her fellow Priestesses, guide the spiritual life of the city, and marvel at her power. Hope to be like her one day. She was praying some of that power would rub off on her now, so she could do what she needed to do.
She heard a harsh snort echo off the chamber walls, and sighed, knowing she could no longer ignore the Crone. The older woman had come up from her seclusion several hours before, and was standing in the corner of the large room, beside the brazier smoking with white, purifying sage. Xian’s throat tightened.
From the youngest of ages her High Priestess mentor had taught her the hierarchy of their order. Stargazers who charted the sky, in search of signs of the Sun’s returning anger. Midwives who aided in bringing new life to the world and took care of the infants until they could be settled into their proper caste. Crafters who made strong netting for fishermen and pretty baubles out of sun-glass and other gems for trade, as well as pottery for food and precious water. Herbalists who specialized in healing tonics and aphrodisiacs. All of them, along with those Breeders who had already proven to be fertile and had participated in at least one Sacrifice, were eligible for the lottery, the annual choosing of citizens for a night of sexual revelry, a night that often led to multiple conceptions.
Only two types of Priestess were restrained from participating. The High Priestess and the Crones. The Crones were chosen at birth, just like she and all the others had been. They dwelt for a time in the Temple, but when they came of age they retreated deep into the sacred caverns, the Womb of the Goddess, and spent their days ingesting herbs and inhaling steam from the deep chasms below in order to aid them in their visions.
When Xian was younger, she’d often envied them. They were not expected to learn all that she was, to be responsible for an entire community, though it was clear they did not see it that way. They looked up, look within, returning to the Temple halls to create the mark for each Breeder and Priestess, and to share their future visions with the High Priestess in order to bring her clarity. They were special.
Did Meidra know about her plans? Would she share it with the others? She stood and gave the woman her attention. “Crone, Goddess blessings upon you.”
Those dark far-seeing eyes looked into hers as she walked slowly forward. “Do you remember when I gave you your first mark, High Priestess?”
Xian notice Hel step closer outside the doorway, and she tried to ignore the nervous flutters in her chest. “Of course, Meidra. Your skills were beyond compare, even then.”
The older woman reached out to trace the crescent-moon birthmark beneath Xian’s breast, the dusky desert red of the tattoo curling around it. “Four symbols intertwine around the sign of the Goddess on your skin and these same ones were repeated on your back. To surround you with strength. Protection. Passion. And the fourth, and most important…Sacred Truth. Each High Priestess is given markings similar in style but unique to them. The Crones saw special things for you, Xian. From the beginning, you were different.”
“What are you trying to say, Meidra?”
The Crone tilted her head, smiling the secret smile that had always sent a chill up Xian’s spine. “Nitara followed her own path. It is not your fault. You must follow yours to its end. The Goddess demands no less from you.”
She
turned and walked away, stopping next to Hel in the doorway. He stood at attention, his eyes hovering somewhere over her right shoulder. Xian knew it was his training. The Sun Guards weren’t permitted to make eye contact with their charges. Yet she’d often wished he would shed that rule with her. She’d stared up at those understanding malachite eyes as she’d told him of her worries about Kroy Wen, her concerns for the future of the Temple.
He’d been there the first time she’d had to decide where a babe was to be placed, when she’d been shocked to realize she wasn’t completely sure she’d made the right decision. The Goddess had not whispered in her ear to assure her that the young boy child was to be a fisherman or a grower. He had known how unsettled that truth had made her. But she never knew if he really heard her. Really saw her.
The Crone chuckled beside Hel, drawing Xian’s attention once more. “I’ve seen you as well, great Sun Guard. Don’t think I haven’t. If you’ll take some advice from an old woman, I will offer it. Be willing to share more than your cache of fine goods for the safety of your High Priestess. Her safety and happiness mean salvation…more than you know.”
Hel jerked his chin in acknowledgment, and the Crone was gone.
“All is ready, High Priestess.”
Xian bowed to the larger statue of the Goddess, coming to walk beside her guard. “I need to gather a few more things, Hel.”
She studied the honeycombed halls of her secure home closely, as if it were for the last time. “Wait here.” She slid the stone door closed, looking around her private sleeping quarters. It was separated from the rest of the temple, the only room facing the ocean. Xian remembered the first time she’d been allowed into this room, the first time she’d seen the view from the balcony and the moment the hazy orange-yellow sky gave way to blue and green sea. The Temple had been built into the rock on the far edge of town between the ocean and the center of Kroy Wen. The best position for defense. The cliff beneath her was too steep for a pirate to scale, the mountain impenetrable. To her right, she could see the fishermen gathering, so small, so busy at their tasks. To her left, endless sky.
Xian sat on her bed and hugged her pillow to her chest. The Crone had said she must follow her own path. And Hel. Would he follow it with her to its end? She’d never been alone with him, and after his recent actions, she wasn’t sure why she still trusted him. Yet, she did. Just thinking of him made her body heat, her nipples harden. Need, not trust. But it was enough.
She knelt on the floor and reached for her traveling pack from under the bed. She slid her hand beneath her stuffed mattress and smiled. The cool metal filled her palm before she quickly pulled it out and slid the chain over her neck. The small, strangely shaped keepsake slipped down to hide between her breasts. The key. She had everything she needed now.
It was time to go.
They went down into the tunnels that only a select few knew of, hidden deep beneath the Temple itself. One path led out to the sea, one to the Womb of the Goddess where the Crones dwelt, and it was down that path that it split off, heading into the Garden of the Moon.
It was a strange path, one that Xian had marveled at the first time she’d seen it for its perfect, cylindrical shape. Hel knew it well. He’d told her that part of the Sun Guards training was to walk this path, to clear out any of the creatures that sought to make it home, paving a safe path for the High Priestess and her annual journey to the Vault.
They traveled in swift silence until she noticed movement in the low light. “You’ve acquired a horse? But Hel, I did not ask you to—”
The welcome neigh silenced her for a moment. A mare was tethered to the entrance, a beautiful, pure white mare, and Xian couldn’t hide her surprise. “The Garden is a walk of meditation and reflection. One is not supposed to be at ease, but to recall all those who walked through darkness without comfort after The Burning Time.”
Hel chuckled. “One is not supposed to travel through the Garden of the Moon during the wet seasons. I will not take chances with your safety. I’m on strict orders from the Crone, you’ll recall. I trust you and Luna will get along just fine.”
Xian couldn’t help the smile as the mare pressed her soft, flaring snout against her shoulder. How often had she wished to ride one of these rare, magnificent beasts? Her predecessor taught her that a High Priestess must walk amongst the people, not hold themselves above them, lest she lose perspective. But the child in her had longed to race with the wind through her hair as she’d seen the Sun Guards do on their way into the Wasteland. Longed to feel the kind of freedom Hel offered her.
He smiled down at her as though he could hear her thoughts. Before she could tell him to send the mare back to the city, that it was too fine a beast to waste on her journey, he gripped her waist with his large, callused hands and lifted her into the air.
She had a sudden flash of that night. The night Nitara stole away with her Wanderer. The explosion of the brazier, the crazed push of the mob…and then, Hel was there. He’d wrapped his muscular arms around her and swept her away, back to the safety of the inner Temple. Her mind had been in turmoil at what was happening around her, but her body had exploded with sensation.
The heat of his body, the warm, rich smell of his skin—it was intoxicating. Xian had performed the fertility ritual beneath the moonlight before the citizens of Kroy Wen, revealing her sex and reveling in the pleasure of the Goddess to ensure the growth of plants and herbs, gentle weather and new life. She taught young Breeders how to find relief with their own hands, how to seduce, arouse and satisfy their chosen Sacrifice’s in order to ensure conception. But she’d never felt what she had in Hel’s embrace.
Her face had been buried in his neck as he’d carried her, and when he’d set her down she’d seen the intensity in his eyes and known that passion dwelt inside him. He’d left too quickly for her to process her own reaction, let alone his. She’d spent the rest of the night going back and forth between worry for Nitara, and arousal for Hel. When she could stand it no longer, instead of praying at her personal altar for strength and guidance, she had closed her eyes and pictured him, using a tool made of polished sun-glass to fill the void inside her and find relief.
“High Priestess? Xian, answer me.”
The horse was skittish beneath her, impatient, and Xian realized that her hands were clenched tight around Hel’s shoulders. How long he’d been holding her, hovering above the blanketed mare she couldn’t say.
Her cheeks filled with heat, and she released him, sifting her fingers through the satin mane in order to distract herself from the desire knotting her stomach. “Thank you, Hel. We should get moving.”
He turned away from her to grab the braided reins of hemp, but she was sure she heard the smile in his voice. “As you say, Priestess.”
They headed into the cavernous expanse, and Xian tried to tell herself that she wasn’t glad to be alone with Hel these next few days.
She prayed that the Goddess would forgive her the lie.
Hel walked ahead of the mare, half his attention on the path ahead, the rest on the woman behind him. There was a lightness in his heart. It had appeared the moment he’d seen her reaction to the horse, and it had been growing with each step they took away from the Temple, and the people who took Xian’s attention and energy.
She was his. For now.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever noticed how beautiful the Garden is. How could I have missed all of this?”
Hel looked around at her words. The rains had come recently. Those hard rains that above meant danger, death, but down here meant life. The High Priestess was only allowed to make her journey during a time when there was no chance for flooding, so Hel was glad she could see this.
The Garden of the Moon was in bloom. The small central stream had swelled in size, framed by newly sprouted plants and strangely shaped and colorful fungi. Thick roots knotted the ceiling of the cavern and climbed down the walls. And up ahead… “High Priestess, look up.”
He turne
d to watch her expression as they entered his favorite place. It was easy to believe in magic, in the stories of the chosen that survived The Burning Time, sheltered by the gently penetrating light of the Goddess, when you saw it. Green and blue glowing tendrils of incandescent light flowed from the water, up the ropy walls of the tunnel to cover the overhang above them like a star-filled sky. He could see his own awe mirrored in her expression. A joy he hadn’t seen in too many moon risings to count.
“Hel, could we stop here for the night? I had no idea. I would have gladly braved the dangers of rising water if I’d known I could see this… It truly is a Garden of the Moon. It is beautiful.”
She was beautiful. “It should be safe for the night. Let me set up your hammock, and then I will gather some fresh herbs for our meal.”
The High Priestess slid off the horse as though she’d been born on one, shaking her veiled head adamantly. “You are only one Sun Guard. Gather what you must, I can make my own bed. I am the High Priestess, not an invalid.”
He bowed his agreement before heading deeper into the darkness, just outside of sight. Hel felt like a child again. Watching from the shadows as she struggled with rope and vine. Her travel robes offered him no glimpse of her bare, pale gold sex, the copper nipples that had tormented him day after day. In a way, it was even more tantalizing, knowing what was beneath, knowing what she concealed for the journey.
She bent over and he bit back a groan, his usual restraint swept away by this place, this isolated place. None of his peers were looking on to judge him, none of the priestesses were stealing his charge away. No one and nothing could stop him from taking her into his arms, from touching her. Nothing but honor. Honor and the belief that she would hate him if he tried.
His cock was hard as stone. He needed relief and fast. Before he took the woman he loved by force and brought the wrath of her Goddess down upon him.
Chapter Three
“What is taking him so long, Luna?”
Wasteland: The Priestess Page 2