Remembered

by Hazel Hunter

  When they reached the common hall, Rhea went to the kitchen to retrieve two plates for them. The comforting smell of warm brown stew made Galia realize how hungry she was.

  “Thank you,” she said to Rhea. “I swear I would have starved a thousand times over if it had not been for you.”

  Rhea’s smile was a little wistful.

  “I’ve always felt like I had to look after you. My sisters were taken from me when they were so young. I can only hope that someone is taking care of them too.”

  Technically, they were both slaves, property of the palace and the city of Tenebris. Of all of the servants of the Goddess, only the Oracle was truly free. After her initiation, Galia would enjoy much more freedom. However, it was only after she truly stepped up that she would earn the freedoms of a true priestess, and successor to the Oracle.

  Galia ate her stew gratefully, feeling the meat and vegetables nourish her body. She was just beginning to recover when a shout was raised up from the courtyard. Galia frowned.

  “Is there a delegation from the city coming?” she asked Rhea. “Or some group from foreign lands?”

  Rhea, who kept her fingers firmly on the pulse of the palace, looked similarly baffled.

  “I have no clue. Stay here, I’m going to go look.”

  Galia had no intention of being left behind and followed Rhea closely. They came to the enormous gate that lead to the courtyard. It was chaos, with soldiers, dogs and horses everywhere. At the center of it was a man who wore a leather, wolf mask. He sat astride an enormous horse, as calm and quiet as a statue. He looked around as if surveying a land he intended to conquer. The marks on his armor were plentiful. He was no lordling come to strut. Instead, it was easy to see that he was a conqueror. It reminded Galia of her own people, lost to raiders years ago. Even after all this time, she prickled.

  There were only a frightened pair of palace acolytes cringing in the shadows. Galia realized grimly that, as the only priestess here, it was her duty to step forward.

  She gathered up her skirts and strode across the courtyard towards the masked man. Whether by accident or design, the other riders and animals shied away from her. She kept her eyes fastened on him as she approached. She could tell when he saw her. He and his mount went still. Somehow, she had no doubt that he was waiting for her.

  “Greetings, soldier,” she called. “What brings you and yours to the palace of Tenebris?” She waited expectantly, but there was no response from him. Had he not heard her? “What business have you, soldier?”

  One of the many massive dogs that danced around the horses legs snarled and snapped. The leader’s wolf mask turned that way briefly. He was not deaf.

  “I ask you again, what is your business?” she demanded. “You will tell me, or you will be sent from here and your mission lost.”

  Still he said nothing, and Galia could feel her temper rising. People usually didn’t cross her. Her visions could bring life or death, prosperity or ruin. This man sat like a king of the world. But in this palace in the city of Tenebris, he was nothing of the sort.

  “If you will not speak, then stay silent and leave this place,” Galia said.

  She looked around for the captain of the guard. But at just that moment, a fight broke out among the dogs. A horse near them took fright. The soldier astride it tried to rein it in, but only succeeded in wheeling it about––straight at her. The horse stumbled, trying to regain its balance, hooves lashing out, but Galia could see it was too late. She was too close. Rhea screamed.

  But suddenly the masked man dove off his horse and snatched her up. He hooked an enormous arm around her waist, dragging her out of harm’s way as effortlessly as if she were a kitten.

  The soldier who had almost ridden her down got his horse under control and gaped down in dismay.

  “My apologies, Lord,” he said, his face white. “I did not see her, I swear!”

  For the first time, the masked man spoke.

  “Short rations for two days. On the night between, you will stand vigil before the Goddess, asking for more perceptive eyes.”

  Instead of looking irritated or enraged, the man seemed extremely grateful. He saluted fervently before losing himself in the crowd again.

  Galia squirmed around to look at the man. She had heard his voice, and yet somehow didn’t feel surprise. Instead what she felt was a low thrum in her belly. The fate of the world was turning, looking for a place to stop. Without asking for permission, she simply reached for the leather thongs that secured the mask. She was gentle and unhurried. When she pulled the wolf face away, she let out a sigh that she hadn’t been aware she was holding.

  “I know you,” she whispered.

  “We shall see,” Strayke said, letting her go and stepping back. “Summon the Oracle. Tell her that the Wolf Battalion has returned.”

  Chapter 9

  In her chamber that night, Galia sat staring at the flames of her hearth. She felt as empty as a dry seashell, as hollow as a ruin.

  He’s back, her heart said, beating fast whenever she thought of it. After all these years, after all of the pain, and the fear and the tears, he’s back.

  She remembered the look in his eyes. There had been no joy in it. There had been no love or laughter. If she thought too long about it, she would have said that there was something dead. Her heart ached for Strayke, but there was also fear. She had all but condemned him to the life that he led now. If the armor was anything to judge by, it was hardly an easy life. Did he hate her? Did he want her dead?

  Galia got up to pace, but there was a small knock at her window. With a small cry of relief, she ran and let Mina in. To her shock, Mina’s face was wreathed in a happy smile. Mina swept her up in her arms.

  “Darling, beautiful darling, we have him back!”

  Galia blinked. “Mina?”

  “Our boy, the only one who ever mattered worth a damn to me. He’s back, and gods below, but he’s a sight for sore eyes.”

  “You saw him? You saw Strayke?” she said, her voice slightly shrill.

  Mina nodded.

  “That’s what I came to tell you. Apparently, he was bought by the martial arm of Tenebris’s government. He’s been fighting his way up the ranks for years. And now, here he is–” Mina held her at arm’s length. “Galia, what’s the matter?”

  “You saw him? You spoke with him?”

  Mina frowned at her in puzzlement. “He’s in the guards’ quarters with the rest of us. I’m sure he’ll get his own room in a while, but at the moment, he’s settling his men.”

  “He…was happy to see you?”

  “Picked me up, hugged the breath out of me and called me a dozen foul names,” Mina said.

  Galia broke away from Mina, staring up at the ceiling. Over the last five years, she had learned to put away her tears. However, now she could feel them threatening to flow whether she wished them to or not.

  “I chose you and not him,” she said, her voice small. “I chose you, and he will never forgive me for it. He couldn’t even say my name or speak it.”

  Mina frowned. “No,” she said. “Look, I can bring him up here. You can speak with him–”

  “No,” Galia nearly yelled. Shocked at her own tone, she lowered her voice. “No,” she said more quietly. “No. If he doesn’t want to see me, don’t bring him here. There is no need to inflict something painful on him.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I wronged him, and I have always known it. He has known it too. Sometimes, I think that the only person who doesn’t know it is you.”

  Mina’s dark eyes went hard.

  “Are you saying that I’m too dim to know what you did for me? I do know, Galia. I know that you were put into an impossible situation by a woman who terrifies the city. If she had asked me who I would have chosen, I would have said you.”

  Galia shook her head, burying her face in her hands.

  “You’re just trying to find a way to forgive me. But I can’t. I made the choice, b
ut I hate it. I hate it every day.”

  “Oh darling.”

  For a moment, Mina’s arms around her felt as safe and sure as the mountains themselves. But Galia couldn’t take comfort she didn’t deserve. She shook Mina off.

  “Galia!”

  “Don’t…just don’t.”

  “Galia–”

  “Please leave,” Galia murmured, her voice breaking as she turned away.

  Behind her, she could hear Mina sigh, long and deep.

  “I love you, Galia,” Mina said quietly.

  Galia didn’t dare turn around until she heard the window creak closed. She was alone, but the terrible, ravaging pain did not go.

  As she wearily stripped, climbed into bed, and curled up, she settled into that pain. When she dreamed, it was of a woman in a different place and time. Her lovers were as different as night and day, wounded but whole. It was a good dream, but an incomplete one.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning dawned uncommonly gray and dreary. It was high summer in Tenebris, but sudden changes in weather could happen. Whatever its cause, it suited Galia’s mood. She allowed herself to be dressed in a beautiful silk gown of sky blue. The slippery folds draped over her like water. She pinched some of the silk between two fingers, seeing it as though for the first time. She knew it’d been brought from a far corner of the world, across empty land and mountains, only to end up adorning a slave’s body.

  We don’t choose our slaveries, she thought, but some of us do better than others.

  She went to find Rhea, and they finalized their plans for the bread. To Galia’s pleasant surprise, the bread deliveries could begin right away.

  “You work fast,” she said to Rhea, who dimpled with pleasure.

  “I couldn’t afford not to,” she admitted. “The Oracle said that whenever you were done with me, I was to send you on to her.”

  Galia flinched. As the date of the Longest Day drew closer, she grew more worried. Though the power was seductive, she sensed––as with everything in Tenebris––it would come at a price.

  Rhea patted her hand in sympathy.

  “Here, come with me. I’ll have the kitchen pull together a tray for the two of you. That will help.”

  Galia had only had a bit of bread and milk, and realized she was starving.

  “Thank you again, Rhea,” she said, hugging her. “I don’t know what I would do without you.

  “Starve, most likely. Now come along.”

  The kitchen prepared a tray of black olives, soft white cheese and cured salmon. The latter was a popular delicacy in the city at the moment, and it gleamed orange and delicious on its bed of greens. Galia decided that Rhea was right. Hunger drove away nerves, and food would drive away hunger. A young girl carried the tray and a carafe of lemon water to the Oracle’s room with her. Galia knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Galia opened the door. But what she saw when she stepped inside destroyed her appetite. The Oracle sat at the small table at the window, her wolf resting easily at her feet. Standing at attention and dressed in a tunic of red silk was Strayke.

  Somehow, Galia managed to step aside to let the girl lay the table. She took her accustomed place across from the Oracle. If she turned her head to the side, she would see Strayke standing right there. She did not turn her head. She barely breathed.

  “Thank you, that will be all.”

  The Oracle dismissed the girl absently before serving herself a small amount of the cheese and salmon.

  “Hmm, delicious. Galia, will you not join me?”

  There was something about the calculated innocence of the Oracle’s tone that made Galia wary.

  “What game are you playing?” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “What do you want with him?”

  The smile on the Oracle’s face could have meant anything. She wore it right before she ordered a man hung high on the walls. She wore it right before she praised Galia for mastering something.

  “I think you should eat. It’s an old saying that when you are at war, you should never pass up on a chance to eat or sleep.”

  “Am I at war now?” Galia asked, her spine rigid. “Is that what this is?”

  The Oracle’s laughter was light.

  “You are jumping at shadows. I take it the presence of Commander Strayke here has upset you.”

  As if she had been given permission, Galia turned to him. With his dark hair and light eyes, he was still every bit that man who had come to her and Mina’s rescue on the ship. But like Mina, he had put on muscle. Terrible scars were on his arms, and she knew that they would be under his clothes as well.

  When she looked up at his face, it looked utterly impassive. It was so familiar and so remote that she could have cried.

  “I am not jumping at shadows,” Galia said, her voice strained. “As you well know.”

  “Indeed I do,” the Oracle said, as she broke off a bit of bread. “How could I forget the day I met you, when you made that choice?”

  Galia stiffened. The wound that had opened when she’d first seen Strayke in the courtyard, cracked wide.

  “What do you want?”

  “The same as always,” the Oracle said, popping an olive in her mouth. “Really, Galia,” she said around it. “Have you learned nothing?” She took out the pit and set it aside. “Your initiation into the role of Oracle will be conducted in just a few days.”

  “On the Longest Day, yes.”

  “You will submit to the Goddess in the deepest part of the palace, in the subsanctum.” She nodded at Strayke. “Your sacrifice will be the Commander.”

  Galia started out of her seat. She hit the edge of the tray, and the only reason it did not go spinning was because the Oracle steadied it with her hand.

  “Sacrifice? What are you talking about?”

  The Oracle’s face was serene.

  “The sacrifice is dedicated to the Goddess. She is the one who decides. On the shortest night of the year, you will travel underground. When you return, you will be initiated into the great mysteries.”

  “What sacrifice?” Galia snarled, her voice rising. “Speak plainly.”

  “I speak like an Oracle,” she replied. “A sacrifice is required, and he is yours.” The shock of the words reverberated through her, and Galia swayed. “There are things you can hide from me,” the Oracle said, conversationally. “There are things you can fight. There are even times when you can defy me. Trust me when I say that this is not one of them.”

  “Priestess,” Strayke said quietly.

  Galia gasped as if she’d been whipped, and turned to him.

  “I know my duty to Tenebris,” he said. “I go as a willing sacrifice, as the Oracle has asked me to be.”

  “Do you think I would let something so important to you slip away?” the Oracle asked. “Do you think that I did not keep track of the commander? He has had wealth and power, but now he will pay the price. On the shortest night of the year, he will serve you.”

  With horror, Galia looked into Strayke’s face. It was serene and serious.

  She couldn’t even cry. Numbly, she sat back down in front of her mentor. She listened to the Oracle describe the proceedings up until the Longest Day. And all through the meeting, Strayke stood at their sides.

  * * *

  • • • • •

  * * *

  The next few days sped by. The bread for the outer city was a sensation. Messages of thanks and pledges of service poured in. As much as that warmed Galia, her heart was in turmoil. Now that Strayke was in the palace, she heard his name everywhere. He was a fierce warrior who had won gold and glory across far lands. He was a faithful commander to the city, and his rise over the past five years had been nothing short of meteoric. She heard talk of him, but never saw him. There were whispers that he was being prepared for the Longest Day.

  Though Galia had tried to keep her doubts to herself, the Oracle had either seen it or divined it.

  “You are still afraid,” the
Oracle observed as they sat in her sun room. “Why?”

  Galia looked at the Oracle, tired of the games. She wondered if she should simply hold her tongue, but she didn’t have the energy even for that.

  “I am torn,” she said finally. “And it is your doing.”

  “It is,” the Oracle agreed, as though it was the first time Galia had made sense. “The Goddess calls you. I can sense it. We all can. She will call forth the greatness in you.”

  “And if I don’t want to heed her call?” asked Galia.

  The Oracle narrowed her glance. “You speak blasphemy.”

  “Do I?” Galia said, her own frankness surprising her.

  Weariness and worry had worn her filters thin. But something in the Oracle’s face said Galia had stumbled on something. Then it occurred to her.

  “She can be denied then,” Galia said, musing on the observation.

  For just a moment, it looked like the Oracle was going to slap her.

  “You are a foolish child,” the Oracle proclaimed coldly. “Be grateful I don’t have you whipped raw, and let you go to the unknown like an unruly slave.”

  “That’s what I am, though.”

  “Not in front of the Goddess.” She stared out the window, and waved her hand in Galia’s direction. “Go.”

  When Galia left, her mind buzzed with scattered thoughts. But there was one idea among them to which she repeatedly returned: it was possible to defy the Goddess.

  Chapter 11

  The morning of the Longest Day dawned bright and hot. The palace’s doors had been thrown open so that all the citizens of Tenebris, great and small could wander through. The air was rich with the smell of exotic incense and roasting meat. Galia, who was fasting, felt starved, but that was good. It would keep her sharp in the hours to come.

  Mina had been unable to sneak away the night before, but she managed to drag Galia into an alcove before the ceremony. She smothered Galia’s mouth in a quick kiss before hugging her tight.