Wysper

  Tonight was the last night of the festival and Greywolf had not come.

  In truth, Wysper never thought he would. The night after the Ceremony of Plentiful Giving, when the Shadow-walker Greywolf had walked through the Grey just to kiss her, Yrg had found Wysper in the rooms she shared with Thalia and Myra and gone through her mind as if pulling everything out of a carefully arranged cabinet and dumping it onto the floor.

  It took Wysper a full day to recover, with the dreams about being rescued by him beginning the following night. Wysper knew Yrg had been the one to plant them there but what could she do? At least this time the dreams had been pleasant, not the nightmares she had expected to receive… though she wondered why Yrg had planted them in the first place.

  Besides, if Greywolf did try a rescue attempt, how could he find me without being caught? The city of Bukhara had several, separate districts, with the important ones kept apart from the rest of the city by stone walls with gates to control access. Such as the temple district they were residing in. It was in the southeast part of the city, the quadrangle dedicated to Yun-Kax and his allied gods being in the center of the district, with pyramids sacred to other major gods arranged in an orderly fashion around it.

  Between the pyramid quadrangles were stone buildings for the priests to use, the largest one at the back of Yun-Kax's pyramid for the High Priest when he was visiting, while at the rear of the district were buildings for the less important people to share.

  Like the women's quarters Wysper now lived in. Unlike the house in Tesiphon, here the priestesses were cramped for space, but she did not mind. It reminded her of the old dwelling in Britannia, with all its comings and goings and gossip, and giggling over silly things, and... No, it does me no good to remember. The old days are gone, never to return.

  At least this building had running water. One of the ceramic pipes led into a cistern on top of the building, where the water was heated by the sun, so Wysper had warm water for her bath within the large stone pool, shared by the other priestesses, both women and females of other races.

  The stone walls were layered with mosaics, their ceramic tiles depicting mostly river scenes, while the floor of the bath room was tiled in blue. Myra sat on the edge, her own feet in the water as she washed Wysper’s hair, humming the melody of a hymn to Pan as Wysper hummed the counterpoint. Singing his praises was forbidden, of course. But no one ever told them they could not hum.

  They finished the hymn, then Myra took a battered, silver pitcher and filled it with warm water from the pipe pouring water into the pool, which she used to rinse the soap from Wysper’s hair. Putting the pitcher down with a metallic clang on the stone floor, she dried her hair with a towel. Then Wysper closed her eyes as Myra began running a wooden comb through her hair as she teased out the tangles.

  The slap, slap, slap, of broad feet on stone echoed off the walls, and a moment later so did Thalia's voice. "One of the High Priest's eunuchs is here with an officer of the temple district guards and a half-dozen of his men."

  Wysper opened her eyes and climbed out of the pool. Myra held the towel she stepped into, and dried Wysper off with practiced ease as she humphed, "Why did the High Priest not send a messenger first? I still need to take my bath, and you have flour on your hands from kneading dough."

  Thalia wore a plain linen dress stained with berry juice and bits of unleavened dough. "We are not going. The summons is for Wysper, alone."

  A stab of fear shot through her. "Alone? Thalia, he never summons just one of us to his chambers."

  'I know," Thalia replied, a scowl replacing her usual cheerful expression. "He has never allowed even a whiff of impropriety to attach itself to us. I do not know what has changed."

  "I think I do." A guilty look stole over Myra's face. "The High Priest's chief acolyte, Kavad-El, told me Bukhara is the last of the empire's satrapies we are going to visit. Once the festival is over, we are heading home."

  Home as in Tesiphon and not their real home of Britannia. Thalia's eyes narrowed. "And just how did you come by this information, might I ask?" Myra's face reddened, and Thalia turned her scowl on Wysper’s priestess-sister. "Do you realize what the High Priest will do if he finds out?"

  Myra shook her head. "He will not, I promise. Besides, we did very little wrong. A few kisses, nothing more."

  "That depends on where you did the kissing," a new voice said. Wysper looked down at the edge of the pool. One of the local priestesses of a mystery cult, a Daemo who has been sculpted to look like an an elongated woman with eternally wide, innocent looking purple eyes, boyish hips, and henna dyed black hair, had swum to their side. "Between the sheets, Kavad-El told me how he taught you to pleasure him with your mouth, so he would not be tempted to risk defiling your holy virginity."

  Being Myra's confidant, Wysper already knew, but Thalia was shocked to the core. "Myra!"

  "He never touched me," Myra said quickly, "or asked me to disrobe. Thalia, we have to make friends among them, even if it means pushing at the edges of what we are allowed. There is a movement among the other temples to displace Yun-Kax from the dominant position their temple holds. Kavad-El told me the other temples believe the High Priest has too much power, and that there is a plot to bring him down." Myra grabbed Thalia's hand. "If that happens, we have to be prepared."

  Myra had never told Wysper anything about a plot. "Myra, this is serious. The High Priest could be using the chief acolyte to test your loyalty."

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  "I thought of that,” Myra replied, “but Kavad-El swore that was not the case when I threw the accusation at him. He told me the plan is to depose the High Priest as soon as he returns from this trip, stripping power from all Yun-Kax's priests and giving it to the acolytes instead, making them temple priests, while Kavad-El becomes high-priest of equal stature with the other high priests of the other temples."

  Wysper grabbed Myra by the shoulders. "Listen to me. We may be slaves of the Sasnayams, but the High Priest sees that we are taken care of, unlike the slaves of the other temples. Or would you like the priests of Ghash-Kimil to get their hands on us?" Myra shivered, and Wysper gently shook her. "The High Priest needs to be told."

  Fear swept her face. "Promise me you will not tell him."

  "I will not," Wysper replied as she let Myra go, "because you will. Tomorrow at dawn, the priests of Yun-Kax will hear the final confessions, so you must request one with the High Priest, as is traditional for all penitents. He will be intrigued and doubtless hear yours himself."

  "But... he will know what I did."

  "The High Priest will learn of it eventually," the dark haired Daemo in the pool said. "I am Sybil, a priestess of Ishtar, goddess of carnal passions, who has dealt with your High Priest for more years than you have been alive. He will find out."

  "Blood drinking Daemo whore," Thalia sniffed.

  "Among other things," the Daemo replied with a smile. "However," the smile leaving her face, "it also means I know how the world works. Confess and the High Priest will be lenient with you, perhaps even with Kavad-El, who you obviously have feelings for." Myra blushed a deep red and the Daemo nodded. "Daemo see things in humans that others do not. If you do not confess, though, his wrath will be a cold, fearsome thing. Do not ask me how I know."

  Seeing the bleakness in her face, Wysper shivered herself as Thalia put a hand on both Myra's and Wysper’s shoulders. "As eldest, I will decide whether Myra confesses to the High Priest or not. We will wait until Wysper returns, and after hearing her tale of the night's events, I will decide our best course of action." Her hand squeezed Wysper’s thin shoulder. "You will say nothing of this without my permission." She nodded and Thalia let them go. "We have wasted too much time already. Myra, help Wysper dress, the demure blue one he just gave her."

  "The black one," Wysper countered.

  Thalia frowned. "That one makes you look like a whore."

  "I am already Yun-Kax's whore, so why should I not dress like one to please his servant?" Ignoring Thalia's shocked expression, Wysper padded nude across the stone floor towards the open doorway where their chambers lay, Myra at her heels, and they walked down the carpeted hallway to their rooms.

  Myra went right for the wardrobe where their dresses were hung on hooks. She grabbed the black one, and as Wysper raised her arms, slipped it over her head, taking a few moments to adjust it. In truth, the black dress was almost as demure as the blue, leaving her shoulders bare but far too flowing to reveal much more. The sleeves and the hem were cut to look like black flames when she moved her limbs, with a hint of red cloth underneath emphasizing the effect.

  Wysper was still damp from the bath with the dress clinging to her slender hips far more than she liked, so she pulled it away as Myra dabbed a tiny bit of Egyptian Kohl on her finger and used it around Wysper’s eyes. She stepped back and Wysper smiled at her friend. "How do I look?"

  Myra’s return smile was a shadow of its usual self. "Like the privileged wife of a noble lord." Her expression grew worried. "Wysper—"

  Wysper put her finger to Myra’s lips. "Later." Myra nodded and Wysper kissed her, their tongues tasting each other’s for a brief moment. Then Wysper grabbed the red shawl against the evening's chill air, draped it over her shoulders, and hurried out of the room.

  The evening air was losing the heat of the day, but the paving stones beneath Wysper’s bare feet were still warm as the sun's brightness slowly faded in the west, letting the light of the stars overhead return.

  At least they would have returned, had the rest of the city not been illuminated like a Noble's banquet hall. The temple district was lit here and there by torches, but beyond its walls the city blazed with light and the sounds of drunken revelry, with men shouting or attempting to drown out other singers with raucous songs of their own, while women laughed. Tonight was the night of Bukhara's festival of Light conquering the Dark, celebrating not only Yun-Kax but all the gods and goddesses of the Sasnayam pantheon as well.

  Including the god of death. Unlike the other pyramids, covered in bright colors of yellow or green, the temple of Ghash-Kimil was painted black. Its open entrance, wide enough to let a wagon enter, was outlined in human blood and the bleached bones of its sacrificial victims, whose bodies were arranged in welcoming positions as if inviting you to enter. Whispered rumors of the rites practiced within its walls had reached even Wysper’s ears, and as she passed underneath the shadow it cast from the setting sun, Wysper suppressed a shudder.

  The young captain of the half-dozen temple guards who were walking on either side of her, never noticed. "Tell me," he said in a voice as light as the flutes Wysper could hear accompanying the singers, "what you think of our great city of Bukhara?"

  Wysper shrugged, listening to the jangling sounds his metal armor made as he walked. "I am not an expert on cities, but for a small city-state on the edge of the waste, it seems fine."

  The High Priest's eunuch, a massive presence at her back, gave a derisive snort. "You rely far too much on your ancestor's heroic reputation for your defense. Your gates are too weak to withstand a determined assault, your walls have been neglected, and as for the poor quality of your soldiers—"

  "Enough!" The gaudy plates of the captain's armor, designed to look like a serpent's scales, shone red as blood for a moment in the torchlight. "Bukhara's warriors are among the finest in the east. We have stood up to raiders out of Khor, nomad tribes, bandit kings, and even if this supposed Crimson Horde," his hand waving in an easterly direction, "showed up, we would defeat them. The city-state of Bukhara is a mighty fortress."

  The eunuch only snorted again and Wysper spoke before he could make matters worse. "If your city has withstood all those attacks, I have no doubt it would stand up to anything the Crimson Horde could muster."

  Somewhere close to the wall, a woman's voice began a bawdy song about Ghash-Kimil desperately trying to stop the Festival and failing miserably, with drunken male voices joining in on the chorus. Wysper sighed as she looked at the lights beyond the stone walls. "The High Priest has forbidden us to venture outside of the temple district, but I do wish I could see the festival up close before we return."

  "The word in the barracks is that your party will not be traveling northward to Akhur, but instead plans to return to Tesiphon once the festival is over, as Akhur decided to renew their allegiance to the Lords of Khor."

  Wysper shrugged again and the captain's babyish face turned sly. "You know, my watch will be over after you are delivered safely from the High Priest's quarters back to the women's house. I could escort you and a flagon of wine to the top of the great pyramid, where we could watch the festivities together. The revelry will likely last until dawn."

  She raised her eyebrows. "You do realize that if I lose my virginity on the top of the pyramid, or anywhere else, my fertility magic comes to an end?"