by Samuel Fort
Chapter 19: Fiela’s Intervention
Fiela knew what was coming. Ben and Lilian had argued. Again. Lilian would cry for a little while. Then she’d get angry. When she got angry, she’d summon Persipia to the Queen’s Suite and take out her anger on the consort, probably with the bamboo rod, though possible with the hickory one she saved for special occasions.
Lilitu practiced two forms of sadism. The first, and most common, was sexual, or as Lilian phrased it, “recreational.” Fiela had no intention of intervening in her sister’s sex life. If Persipia squirmed enough and pleaded in the right manner and pushed her body into the right positions, Lilian would drop the rod and surrender to her lust fairly quickly. Fiela thought the day might come when Lilian would stop using the rod against the consort altogether. It was clear she was smitten with Persipia. She had been for a decade. If the consort could just figure out the right keys to push, the queen would be putty in her hands.
Lilitu’s more horrific sadism manifested itself when she was angry. Tonight Lilian was angry. Very angry. And drunk. The anger and the alcohol in her blood meant her sadism would not be checked by her lust. Fiela had seen the stripes the consort already bore. If the woman was forced to endure more punishment so soon the damage might be irreparable. Drunk and angry, Lilian was a psychopath. She could kill Persipia and thrash the woman’s corpse for another hour before comprehending what she’d done.
Fiela could not drag Ben into the situation, however. He was clueless as to what went on in the Queen’s Suite. If he learned the truth, he would end his fragile marriage with Lilian, and that’s the last thing the girl wanted to happen. She couldn’t imagine living without either her husband or her sister, or Steepleguard surviving without both.
She rushed up the steps of the royal wing, not willing to waste time waiting for the elevator, and went directly to the door of the Queen’s Suite. She tried the knob. It was locked. She leaned her ear against the door and heard what she expected. Persipia was screaming.
She took a step back and knocked loudly. There was a curse inside the room, and then silence. A moment later, the door was cracked open by Lilian, her red face glossy with sweat.
“What?” she said angrily. “I’m busy. Go away, Fiela.”
Fiela could hear Persipia whimpering in the background.
“I need to see you,” Fiela said.
“Not now. I’m in middle of something.” She held up the bamboo rod so that Fiela could see it and lifted her eyebrows as if to say, “See?” She said, “You’re interrupting.”
Fiela took in a breath. She had to be careful here. If Lilian commanded her to leave, she would. The girl literally could not disobey her. Her brain wouldn’t allow it. But if the two women were talking sister-to-sister, and this was but a spat, Fiela could hold her ground. The trick, then, was to ensure Lilian didn’t become an authority figure.
Fiela had a trick.
She leaned against the door jamb and began to unbutton her blouse.
Lilian said, “Really, Fiela, that’s not going to-”
Fiela put on her best lost puppy face and rolled her eyes to the top of her head. In Russian, she said, “I have been wrong to deny you for so long.”
Lilian’s face remained hard. “Yes, you have. But now’s not the time.”
Fiela dropped her voice an octave as she dropped her blouse to the floor and began to unbutton her skirt. She didn’t wear a bra. “Anything you want, Sister,” she said, still in Russian, her expression utterly submissive.
She saw the woman’s face soften just a bit. Lilian shook her head as if to ward off a spell. “Speak Agati, Fiela. You’re Nisirtu.”
But the girl knew the other woman didn’t mean it. Fiela had been born in Russia and she’d learned long ago that her native language, and the accent, had a particular effect on Lilian. It turned her on. Fiela dropped her skirt, and now stood nude in the corridor.
“Sister,” she said pleadingly, her accent thicker and her voice sultry, “what if a fetch should see me like this?”
With a single kick, she sent her clothes hurtling down the corridor and over the rail above the staircase. She carefully placed one of her bare feet between the door and the door jamb, lifting her heel to make a display of her toned leg.
“Shall I not do anything you command?” she said. “After denying you so long, should I not pay a very high price?”
Lilian’s face softened further. She looked confused as her inebriation, anger, and lust fought for control of her mind. “I’m…um…”
“Sister, this mood rarely falls upon me. You know that. It may be another year before it happens next.” Fiela shrugged. “Perhaps two. Or, if I am so unwanted, perhaps never. The shame of rejection will be too great.”
“Fiela-”
The girl pretended to pout. “If you are mean to me, I shall be mean to you. I will not use my nightshirt anymore. I will sleep against you in our bed every night with nothing between us but your thin nightgown. I will be just as you see me now. I will slide my body against yours every night, all night.” She sighed and shook her head. “But I will not yield to you. Ever. You shall be very unhappy, I think.”
Lilian swallowed hard. “That is unfair.”
“If you are fair to me, I shall be more than fair with you.”
The other queen’s breathing slowed, but deepened. “Persipia is here.”
Fiela forced herself to smile. “Shall I command her, or shall she command me?”
That did it. Lilian dropped the rod and opened the door. “Perhaps both.”
Fiela maintained her smile. It was a herculean effort. But she had a moment of panic as Lilian, drunk, began to turn away.
Fiela stood on her tiptoes and said, “Sister, shall you not invite me in?”
Lilian, pulling off her shoes, squinted at the girl. “What?”
She was both drunk and high, realized the girl in the doorway. With any luck Lilian would pass out before the festivities started. “If you want me, you must ask for me,” she said in her most seductive voice. She heard water running in the bathroom. That was good. Persipia was mobile.
“I want you,” said the senior queen, stumbling back toward the door. She grabbed one of Fiela’s hands and said, “No more games. Come inside and shut the door before someone sees you.”
Fiela did.
Part 2 –
The lord of wisdom,
the inhabitant of the primordial,
the expert,
devised a plan.
- The Epic of Anzu, First Millennium BC
