by Shannah Jay
The aged Sisters willingly used the last of their life energy to combat the horde of armed men battering at the doors of their inner chambers, and this allowed many of the children and all but three of the younger Sisters to escape. The older women died of their efforts; the three captive Sisters, all badly beaten before the captain bothered to stop his men, were taken to the city.
Bound, gagged and blindfolded, the three Sisters were paraded through the streets of Setherak as traitors to the Lord Claimant, always surrounded by too many Initiates to make rescue by their Sisters feasible. While Those of the Serpent celebrated this coup by stoning the houses of a few known Sister-lovers, the three captives were taken to a dark chamber below the castle and put to the question by Sen-Sether in his role as Lord of the Inner Shrine.
The gates of Temple Setherak were locked against the mob, and the Sisters there gathered. They managed to augment the powers of their Elder Sister enough for her to locate the captives, but a rescue was still impossible.
At the castle, the questioning was conducted with brutal rapidity by Sen-Sether, attended by a fellow Initiate of the Inner Shrine who was almost as skilled as his Lord in the arts of torture.
'Where is the boy?' Sen-Sether demanded, playing with a sharp knife. When no one answered, he prodded one of the Sisters with the knife tip till blood dripped down its handle. But still the Sister shook her head.
'What have you done with the child you took from this castle nearly five years ago? He wasn't in the crèche.'
Three pairs of clear eyes looked at him sadly and the Sisters all shook their heads. The eldest replied for them. 'We know nothing of this. Which boy are you talking about?'
'You know which boy.'
QUEST Shannah Jay 50
'Indeed, we don't.'
Sen-Sether stood thinking for a moment, then pointed to the Sister who had spoken. The time had come to find out how vulnerable to torture the Sisters were, a thing he had been itching to do for years. He could feel the soft prickling of a thrill start to run along his veins. It was already obvious that these women had no magic which would allow them to escape. Were their other skills also exaggerated?
'Take that one!' he ordered his fellow Initiate. 'Dismember her slowly. I wish to watch her die - but not for a long time. The others may watch and listen.'
The three Sisters all gasped at his words, but the first victim of his obsession straightened against her bonds. 'The God calls me,' she said clearly, her face showing nothing but joy, 'and I'm ready, Sisters. When I'm gone, do not betray our Brother.'
'Gone!' sneered Sen-Sether. 'You'll not be gone for a long time, and I shall enjoy wiping that sickly expression off your face.'
She shrugged slightly, but her smile didn’t falter.
Sen-Sether was frowning at his first victim. 'Well, what are you waiting for, Fenther? Gag the other two, but leave this one's mouth open. I want to hear her screaming. I want them to hear her and see her pain.' Sen-Sether’s eyes devoured his victim and he was oblivious to the pleas of the other two women as the gags were thrust into their mouths.
Fenther fastened the Sister to a frame, ripped open her robe, picked up a sharp knife and drew a thin bloody line down her body. 'Just to show me where to cut,' he joked. She made no sound, but as he began to press the knife more deeply into her flesh at the spot where he would make the first deep incision, she sagged against her bonds.
'Wait!' said Sen-Sether hoarsely. 'No need to rush things.'
Darkness twisted around the torture chamber, evil crawled up the walls. Tears ran down the faces of the two women watching. They knew what had happened.
Fenther caressed his knife and smiled. How well Sen-Sether understood this art. What a privilege it was to be trained by such a master.
'Now. Just one deep incision,' said Sen-Sether, and for all his efforts at self-control, his voice was unsteady.
With a quick thrust, the Initiate made the first deep incision that should have started the woman screaming for mercy. When there was no response, he looked at Sen-Sether with a puzzled frown and lifted her head by the hair. He slapped her face, then felt her pulse in a panic. 'She's dead. Lord of my Shrine, she's dead!'
'What?' Sen-Sether jumped out of his chair and pushed the man aside. 'You clumsy fool! She must have taken poison. Search the others more carefully! And pull their gags out. I want some answers from them.'
'No need to search us, Lord Sen-Sether,' said one Sister calmly as soon as the gag was removed. 'These are evil times and while Discord has been fomenting we've been preparing ourselves by reviving ancient skills. All the Sisters are now trained to kill themselves at will. If that man tries to torture us, my Sister and I will escape from your evil in the same way.'
Sen-Sether gestured to Fenther and the man picked up a knife, making a play of testing its sharpness against his fingertip. 'I'll go more slowly this time, Lord of my Shrine.'
Sen-Sether smiled at the Sister. 'I don't believe you, I'm afraid. Your Sister there must have died of fright. I’ve seen it happen before.' He nodded to Fenther, who set the knife tip into the next victim's flesh.
'Feel it can you?' asked Fenther. 'Nice bright blood you've got there, Sister.'
After a very short time, the second Sister exchanged farewell glances with Fiana and proved to Sen-Sether that she too could kill herself at will.
'Do you wish me to follow her example, Lord Sen-Sether?' asked the remaining Sister, and though there were tears in her eyes, her voice remained calm and her breathing even. 'I shal certainly kill myself if you try to torture me.'
QUEST Shannah Jay 51
Fury pulsed within his skull like a living creature. Who could ever have considered this possibility? What other secrets did those damned hags have in their repertoire? 'Leave her for the moment,' he said to Fenther. 'I have other approaches to consider.'
When he returned to the chamber an hour later, Sen-Sether's eyes were again glowing with confidence. 'We shall have to try something else with you,' he said, casually flicking his fingertip against his remaining prisoner's cheek. 'In fact,' he slapped her face with his full strength, for he had decided to allow himself one blow against this maddeningly calm face, 'you still have your uses to us, you unnatural bitch.'
'I will not co-operate with you in any way.' Her voice was flat and stil calm, although her face stung with the sharpness of his blow. She did nothing to minimise the bruising, reserving all her energy for the main struggle with this monster.
'You might just co-operate a little, if I am persuasive enough. What's your name, whore?'
She stared at him in amazement. 'What does that matter, if I am to die?'
'I wish to know it.'
'My name is Fiana.'
'Well, Fiana, I will give you a chance to live and act as messenger from me to your Elder Sister.' A smile twisted one corner of his finely chiselled mouth. 'I'm sure she would like to know exactly why I’m doing this, what it is I'm trying to find out.'
'I will take a message to her, certainly,' she allowed.
‘A smile crept across his face. 'You must first earn the right to take the message for me.'
'I don't understand.'
'It's quite simple. I have a message for your Elder Sister. If you wish to act as messenger, then you must earn that privilege by doing my will. If you refuse, then I shall find someone else.'
'Why should I bother?' How she kept her voice steady, Fiana never knew, for the gloating look in his eyes warned her that the price would be high. 'We wish no communication with such as you. I believe I had rather die, after all.'
'I can't stop you from dying, it appears. But if you won't do as I ask, then I must search for another messenger.
I'll capture as many Sisters as necessary, until I find one who is willing to pay the price, for I'm very determined to send this message to your Elder Sister.' He paused again and added gently, 'Many of your Sisters will suffer because of your cowardice, Fiana. Just think about that.'
For a moment s
he looked at him, frowning, and he had to admire her courage. The thought of bending a Sister of the God to his will was intoxicating, especially one like this woman. As was the thought of removing the one thing that he feared. If those demon-spawned Sisters ever produced his nephew then the group of well-born soft-bellies who consistently opposed his methods of rule would have a perfect excuse for rebellion. And even he couldn’t kill them all.
'What is the price?' Fiana asked finally.
He knew then that he’d won, at least in this small matter.
He moved very close to her, so close she tried to draw back. 'Before I give you the message,' he whispered, running one fingertip down her bruised cheek, and admiring the splendid way he had discoloured her face without breaking the skin, 'you must first pay homage to the Serpent.'
She was unable to control the horror on her face. The only homage the Serpent craved from women nowadays was public sexual abasement on his altar, usually accompanied by pain of some kind. 'I will not. I'll die gladly, rather than do that.'
Sen-Sether chuckled and ran his hand over her body with the air of a connoisseur. 'Oh, but think of your other Sisters, Fiana. How many do you think I'll have to capture and put to the test before I find my messenger? And you could save them - save us all a lot of trouble.'
QUEST Shannah Jay 52
He took a step backwards and waited, then threw back his head and laughed as he saw doubt hovering in her eyes. 'I'll give you ten minutes to make a decision. Ten only. If you refuse to co-operate, I shall enjoy watching you kill yourself, then I shall send my men out to collect more of your Sisters, and more still, until we find one willing to pay the price to carry my message.'
He allowed another silence to do his work for him, then said very softly, 'They cannot all be inside that temple of yours, and I have a great many men eager to lay their hands on a Sister or two.' He stood up and Fenther bowed to him, smiling broadly. This was a refinement of their art! Not a hair of her head touched, only one bruise on her cheek, yet she was ashen pale and almost ready to submit.
Fiana studied Sen-Sether. He meant exactly what he said. His body signs showed that clearly, and also that he enjoyed inflicting pain. She could see his sexual arousal, which he made no attempt to hide. At that moment, she knew her duty. She looked across the room, meeting Sen-Sether's dark eyes without flinching. 'I don't need ten minutes. You leave me no alternative. But what sort of a god enjoys unwilling homage and demands pain of his followers? What kind of path do you follow, Lord Sen-Sether?'
He walked back to stand body to body with her. 'I follow the Serpent's path, of course. It suits me well. My God demands everything of his followers, their lives and more. And I follow his path gladly, for he is the God of this claim and one day all will worship him - and do his bidding.'
'We of the Sisterhood shall not, under any circumstances, follow the Serpent's path.'
'You of the Sisterhood can always choose to die instead. You do indeed have that choice.' Sen-Sether spoke as pleasantly as if he were discussing the weather. He moved towards the door of the chamber, then turned to look down at the two bodies and back at her. 'These can still be used in the Inner Shrine. Send them there, will you, Fenther?'
Fiana gasped in horror at the implication of this, and Sen-Sether's smile grew even broader. 'Not all will wish to die, Fiana; some of your Sisters will turn to my God. Even as you are beginning to bend to his wishes. I think I shall enjoy teaching you obedience to him.'
She gazed levelly at him. The only way she could defeat this monster was to keep calm and not allow him to stir her senses in any way. Could she manage that? Sen-Sether was beautiful in a dark, dangerous way. Beautiful, but filled with more evil than she had thought possible in one person.
'Release her!'
Fiana stood while the bonds were removed, calling upon all her strength and courage.
Sen-Sether snapped his fingers. 'Come, whore! I shall myself help you to pay homage.'
Fenther coughed to gain his attention. 'Permission to watch, Lord?'
'Certainly, fellow. Watch and learn. It shall be an open display, on the black altar.'
'Aah.' The man's face lit up.
As Fiana followed him, she began to run through a Discipline of Self-Control in her mind. If she must do this to prevent further futile deaths, then she would. Sen-Sether never made idle threats. That was well known throughout the claim.
In the shrine which adjoined the castle, the Servants of the Serpent began to prepare the altar for Sen-Sether while Fiana stood waiting, surrounded by black-clad servants. One licked his lips as he eyed her. The others stole furtive glances at her as they brought out some equipment. Nonchalantly Sen-Sether took off his clothes and gestured to Fiana to do the same.
Her face expressionless, she did as he bade her. Only with great effort was she able to control the aversion she felt, not only to the place, not only to the deed, but also to the man. As he turned, she saw the marks of many whippings upon his back. A devotee indeed, to offer so much pain to the Serpent! Fiana would have infinitely preferred death to a public parody of mating with this man. She stopped in the middle of removing her robe, struck by a sudden idea.
QUEST Shannah Jay 53
'I shall require an oath of you,' she said. 'Taken upon the altar of your god.'
'What?'
'An oath. Else my sacrifice could be in vain. And I had much rather die than do this, make no mistake.'
'You may find that your "sacrifice" becomes a pleasure, Fiana. We are kind to those of our women who do their duty to their God. Most of the time, anyway.' He smiled at some memory.
'It will be no pleasure to me.'
Her voice was calm and sure. The bitch was challenging his power, even now. His eyes narrowed for a moment, and he stared unblinkingly at her face. Reading only quiet determination there, he shrugged and his sharp white teeth gleamed briefly. 'Very well. I accept your challenge, for pleasure you shall surely find. What must I promise first?'
'Swear that you will let me go back to the temple alive and unharmed the moment this obscenity is finished.'
'I swear. If you still want to leave.'
'Swear by your god, touching his altar.' She knew how those of the Serpent revered the main black marble altar in each shrine.
He laid his hand lovingly upon the cold stone, stroking it in a suggestive way that would have sent colour to her cheeks, had she not prevented it. Above them the gilded wooden serpent hung from the ceiling and cast its shadow across the altar. Sen-Sether made the promise she had demanded, then asked, 'Now, is everyone here?'
At a gesture of his hand, the black curtains that screened the holy shrine were drawn back. A gasp echoed around the murky blackness of the shrine.
Through a haze of nausea, Fiana saw that the place was filled with spectators. Many bore the apprehensive expression of people dragged unwillingly in from the street, others had an expression of gloating anticipation on their faces. So Sen-Sether was making her humiliation public, was he? Was it still worth submitting to this in order to carry his message? She debated briefly yet again whether she should kill herself instead of submitting, but something within whispered that she could not escape so easily. For some reason, her Brother required this sacrifice of her. Her body was steady as she finished removing her clothes and turned to her tormentor, waiting in silence for his instructions.
But he was not ready yet to start. 'My God requires pain as part of the sacrifice.' He eyed her body thoughtfully.
'Now, how shall we provide that?'
'I will not let you maim or mark me,' she said flatly. 'If that is attempted, I shall kill myself. Will these people like to see that? Especially here, on your altar?'
He glared at her for a moment, madness flickering at the corners of his eyes. 'So.' His voice was a gasp of fury, then the cold mask of indifference returned to hide his face. 'Then it must be a simple whipping. No, I will not take less, Fiana! Some pain there be, to spice the act. We are not in your temple no
w, are we? My God requires more than a few dances.' His tongue ran quickly over his lips and left a trail of moisture there.
He saw her hesitate. 'We can find other Sisters,' he reminded her quietly. 'Many other Sisters.'
Their eyes met briefly, and she sighed once. 'Very well.'
'A pity you will not let me be more creative! So ordinary, a mere whipping!'
She shook her head.
Sen-Sether shrugged. 'So be it.' He snapped his fingers and the Servants of the Shrine moved forward. 'Tie her to the triangle!'
'There's no need to tie me.'
'On that, too, I insist. I prefer my women under control. And it makes a much better impression on the crowd.'
'It makes no difference to my ability to kill myself,' she warned him, as she allowed the Servants to clamp her to QUEST Shannah Jay 54
the metal frame they had slotted into the altar.
He inclined his head to acknowledge that then turned to the Servants. 'I, too, shall offer pain, but you will have no need to bind me. The metal-tipped whip for me, I think.'
Two Servants, carrying thin, many-thonged whips came forward silently. 'Are you sure, Lord?' one of them asked.
'Your back is only just healed.'
'Do you question me?' Sen-Sether hissed.
'No, Lord, no. I think only of your welfare. The Serpent needs you.'
You will submit to the same whip after me for doubting my command.'
The man sucked in his breath, but said nothing as he inclined his head in agreement. Few sought the caress of that particular whip. He continued the preparations.
Fiana pressed her lips together tightly and willed herself to endure what she must in silence. Incense billowed suddenly out across the room in a thick reddish cloud. As she inhaled it, she became aware of how it was affecting her body. She had heard of this drugged incense, but never smelled it so closely before. As she began to run through a Discipline to control her body's reactions, she saw Sen-Sether breathe it in deeply. Heard the crowd breathing it in, too.