by Aderyn Wood
Still, that would be eight years away, plenty of time to learn the words, and learning words had always come easily. She moved her attention to the crowd seated on the stone benches in the temple. Priests and novices mostly, but her father and brother were there too. At the back sat other members of the royal family, her royal cousins, aunts and uncles, and various other rats she’d rather ignore. Beyond the temple’s imposing entrance, the crowd stood still. Many citizens would have squeezed through the gates in an attempt to get as close to the temple as possible. Those who didn’t make it, would be standing in the streets beyond, shivering with the gathering darkness.
It had been a strange day. The storm was one thing, but the barbarian’s loss in the ring was quite another, and the way he’d been subdued by her uncle-general had an air of malevolence about it. The barbarian fought valiantly, and it seemed there was every chance he’d win, but then he fell as though struck down by some other force.
Not Phadite though. Heduanna was sure of it. If only I could access her power.
Siduri’s prayer had come to an end, and outside the temple bell tolled six times. Dusk, and the end of the Day of Vengeance. Neither sunshine nor moonlight would greet Zraemia for eight long days and nights. Heduanna shivered, already feeling the ice of the frosts that threatened.
After the last bell had tolled, the candles and lamps were extinguished by the waiting priests, all bar one upon the altar. Blessed Siduri’s face hovered above the single flame, her features dark and grim. “Go home, light your vigil candles, lock your doors and pray to Phadite. Return here on the last eve of the Reaping for Aktu, when we shall give thanks, and together we’ll send the demons back to their darkness.”
With a heavy sense of gloom the people of Zrameia began returning to their homes.
Heduanna’s father approached her. “Daughter.”
“Father.” Heduanna kissed his ring.
Her father’s eyes perused the temple as he watched the congregation slowly leaving. “I wonder if you would do something for me.”
Heduanna frowned. Hearing her father ask for her assistance seemed… concerning. “Of course.”
“Look in on Danael when you come for breakfast tomorrow.”
Her frown deepened. “Breakfast? But, the Reaping… it’s too dangerous to travel through the darkness.”
“You are blessed by Phadite.” Her father nodded. “She will protect you. I’ll send two guards to accompany you.”
“Is he still not recovered from the duel?”
Her father’s jaw clenched tight. “No. He suffers. I wondered if you looked in on him… perhaps Phadite will show you an answer.”
“Answer to what?” Heduanna whispered, feeling the heaviness of her frustration once more. She doubted she’d get any response from the goddess. Not in nearly three moons had she felt Her presence.
“To what is happening to him.”
“Happening to him?”
Her father’s dark stare fell on her. “I fear… he’s been poisoned.”
“Poisoned? By uncle?”
Her father’s nod was so tight it was almost imperceptible.
Heduanna’s eyes widened with the implications. “It’s a threat,” she hissed.
Another tight nod. “If you could look in on him?”
“Of course.”
The king left her by the altar, and Heduanna watched her father walking out the entrance of the temple, his guards drawing in close behind. The sky above loomed impossibly red, like blood on a soldier’s skirt.
The following morning marked the first day of the Reaping, and the streets were already covered in ice. Darkness lay heavy over the city and Heduanna kept a close step behind the palace guards who held a flickering torch to light their way. She knew the guards, Sudu and Hannanan, she’d shared her bed with both of them. She’d battered her lashes but it made no difference. Neither guard would give in to the temptation of sleeping with her. Especially not during the Reaping. The goddess seemed more distant with every new day.
At the palace she climbed the terraces to her old suite. A feeling of homesickness gripped her, and yet again she wished she could return to her home, to her comfortable bed, to her gowns and jewels, and to her lovers – the slave boys and guards who had always done her bidding. She took a breath and closed her eyes for a moment. In another year she would be inducted as high priestess. She could no longer surrender to selfish desires.
At the final terrace, Heduanna paused to look out over the city. As was expected the sun hadn’t risen that morning and only darkness dwelled. Most city lamps were unlit, and would remain so until the last night of the Reaping, when they’d flare to life to help chase the demons back to the Underworld.
Heduanna stepped toward her suite entrance and the soft light that emanated from within revealed the mist of her breath. She drew her heavy linen cloak around her and entered.
In her bedroom, the barbarian lay in a coma. A figure lingered by him, and Heduanna realised with a shock it was Qisht. The slave had his back to her, but he was hunched over the barbarian’s head. His hands doing something mysterious and unseen.
Heduanna’s shoes scuffed the floor as she took a step and Qisht spun to face her. His arms locked behind his back. A startled look on his face.
“Princess.”
Heduanna frowned. “What are you doing here? Where are the priests?”
Qisht took a slow breath through his nose, and his face returned to his usual haughty calmness. “Your father thought it best if I tend the prince. He needs someone he can trust to look over him.”
Heduanna narrowed her eyes.
Qisht took a step toward her. “I trust your father told you about our theory?”
Heduanna nodded.
“I am trying to identify the poison used. But so far I’ve had little luck.”
“Leave us.”
Qisht blinked. “Princess?”
“You may have duped my father into trusting you, but you are the very last person I trust, slave. Now leave us. I need to sit with him a moment.”
Qisht shook his head. “I’m afraid that is not possible.”
“You defy my command?”
“I do no such thing. I simply follow the rule of your father-king, who instructed me to see to the prince’s healing myself. I am not yet ready to leave his side.”
Heduanna bit down hard on her lip as she breathed through her nose. Ever irritating, aren’t we, weasel? “Very well, but sit over there, away from me. My father-king has also asked me to look upon the barbarian.”
Qisht nodded and slid over to the corner, giving her some privacy. Heduanna turned to face Danael.
His arms lay by his side, atop the covers. His wounds had been dressed. She swept her gaze along the bulge of muscles of his arms. His skin was so very pale, like milk. His broad hands were callused and cuts and grazes covered them – soldiers hands. She turned to his face. His wide lips were pink, his mouth opened slightly. His breath was slow and regular. Heduanna wondered what Qisht had been doing. Trying to give him medicine perhaps? Or poison?
The barbarian’s eyes were closed and still, and Heduanna noted the red lashes that matched the colour of his hair. His cheekbones were high and his jaw angled down to a fine sculptured chin. Stubble grew along his cheeks. Heduanna longed to reach out and touch him, and some stronger desire from deep within willed her to lean over and place her lips atop his. But she daren’t do such a thing in the sight of Qisht. The heavy restrictions on her would be tightened if her father knew she’d kissed the barbarian.
Why do I want to kiss him?
Was it the goddess she felt stir deep within? Yearning for love?
Heduanna shook her head. There was nothing she could do here. The goddess was a hungry beast and would give her no answers until she got what she wanted.
Heduanna turned and left, ignoring Qisht who mixed some strange-smelling unguents in the corner.
Her father’s reception room was dark and gloomy like the rest of
the city. He was already seated at the breakfast table, and once again, Hadanash was absent, no doubt still licking his wounds. Her brother could nurture a grievance like a baby.
“Daughter,” her father said.
“Good morning, Father.” Heduanna kissed his ring and sat opposite him. She filled her plate with dried fruit and a spoonful of curd.
“You saw him?”
Heduanna glanced around the room. “Where are the slaves?”
“I have given them leave. They are not needed so much during the Reaping and they wish to attend to their own prayers.”
“And Qisht?”
Her father lowered his chin. “You know where he is.”
The hair at the back of her neck bristled. “I don’t understand how you can put so much faith in him.”
The king didn’t move his gaze from her as he chewed his mouthful and swallowed.
“I wished to see the barbarian in private, without his presence.”
“That won’t be possible, daughter.”
Heduanna expelled a short breath. She needed to confront her father once and for all about Qisht. She gripped her hands into a knot. “You are too blinded by that slave-lover of yours, Father. Has it never occurred to you that he may be spying on us? He is from Urul, after all. How can you be sure he doesn’t relay important information to our enemies?”
Her father patted his lips with a cloth and remained infuriatingly calm, as though Heduanna merely spoke about the weather. “He is no spy, daughter.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“He is no spy. And he is to remain with the prince.”
Heduanna stood so abruptly her plate caught in her sleeve and it was thrown onto the tiled floor, making a clang that seemed to filled the whole city with its clatter. “What if the goddess shows me he is a traitor? Would you believe me then?”
Her father remained still for a moment, before he nodded. “Of course.”
Heduanna licked her lips. “Thank you for breakfast, Father.” She turned to leave.
“Is Phadite in communion with you once more?” Her father’s voice came to her calmly, softly.
Heduanna swallowed. “No, but she may return with the Reaping.” Heduanna marched out of the hall and onto the terrace, the guards had to run to catch her. No, Phadite hasn’t returned. But she will. She will.
That night, Heduanna paced in her room, patting the little pouch tucked safely in her sleeve and thinking over her plan again and again, until she was sure she had every step clear in her mind. It had always been much easier when she had Kisha at her beck and call, but that was in the past, and now she must do such things herself. It’d been at least two hands since midnight. She had to do it now or never. Before the darknight hour. The second night of the reaping was always the quietest when people stayed indoors, newly frightened of what may lurk outside. She plucked the feather from her headband, threw her robe over her shoulders and pulled the hood up high. It was a thick robe made of heavy raw linen and hid her form nicely. Most would guess she was a priest or priestess summoned to tend a sickness brought on by the Reaping.
At least, she hoped so.
She stepped out and into the cloistered halls that housed rooms for the temple’s priests, priestesses and initiates. The silence was as thick as the darkness. Only every eighth lantern flickered with a low light. Heduanna stuck to the shadows as much as possible, an easy enough task, shadows were everywhere. Her footsteps echoed, despite her efforts to step lightly, and she held her breath until she made it out a side entrance. Outside, the temple square was lit by four lanterns rather than the usual eight, all of them burning low, and the icicles already frosted the lapis lazuli circle of time, and glistened in the low light. Heduanna glanced around. A priest would be out in another half-bell to toll one chime for darknight. But now, no one lingered by the obelisk. She held her breath once more and ran past the circle of time, along the wall, through the gates and out into the gloom of the city.
Somehow, Heduanna found the house she sought. At least she hoped she had. It looked just like the house her memory conjured up from that night of adventure – two square window cutouts up high above a blue door – painted blue rather than true lapis lazuli. Heduanna stepped up to it and knocked. “Priestess Varshat here to see Addu,” she said in her deepest, most mature-sounding voice.
A few breaths later the door creaked open. Heduanna breathed a sigh of relief. Addu’s dark eyes stared back at her. He wore a full beard now, and his hair fell freely over his shoulders rather than being tied back in a tight tail as it had when he was a palace guard.
Addu carried an oil pot and his eyes blinked with bleariness as he peered out the door. “I don’t understand, Blessed. No one here has summoned a priest. We are all well.”
“Who is it, husband?” A woman’s voice came from behind.
Husband? It didn’t take him long to find a woman to warm his bed.
Heduanna pulled her hood down and Addu’s eyes widened with recognition. “Tell her a priestess has come from the temple and I need a moment of your time. I’ve a message from the palace.”
Addu swallowed but nodded slowly. He turned to give his wife the message before stepping out the door, closing it shut and grabbing Heduanna’s arm he pulled her into the shadows of the house.
“What are you doing here? Tonight of all nights!” He shook his head before adding, “Princess.”
Heduanna’s jaw chattered with the cold. “Not happy to see me?”
“It’s always a pleasure to cast my eyes on your beauty, Princess.” The shadow on his brow deepened. “But it is too dangerous for you, for both of us, to dwell in the shadows tonight.”
Heduanna flung her head up. “I’m aware of that. We must be quick. I need you to take me somewhere. Now, this very night.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, I am in full control of my mind.”
“The demons—”
“Will not touch us. I am Phadite’s hand, remember?”
Addu pursed his lips. “No. I cannot do it.”
Heduanna’s hands curled into fists. She’d been afraid of this answer. “Would you like me to inform my father that you accosted me in my room at the temple?”
Addu closed his eyes and took a heavy breath before blinking. “Why must you threaten me?”
“Because I need you to guide me to a house in the city,” Heduanna hissed.
“Very well. What house?”
Heduanna pursed her lips. “The witch’s house.”
The streets were blessedly empty, aside from the rats that scuttled in the shadows. Addu’s tension was palpable. Agreeing to take Heduanna to the witch’s house brought a great measure of risk. He’d been released from his service as guard at the palace, a result of his acquiescence to the princess’s requests in her bedroom, at least, that’s what Heduanna suspected. And now he had his own life, and wife, and a respectable goods trade in the city. A twinge of guilt bloomed in Heduanna’s chest. She rather liked Addu. He used to help her escape the confines of the palace and together they’d explore the city at night. He’d shown her his family home, and his favourite tea and beer houses, and for a few moments she’d learned what it meant to be a regular citizen. She had no wish to put him at risk, but she needed to get to the witch’s house. And she needed to do it tonight, when the likelihood of being discovered was at its lowest.
They stepped through a dark alley with no lamps in sight. Addu carried his oil pot and once again, the icicles reflected like little gems, on the dirt of the alleyway, and on the mud brick edges of the building.
“Are we close?” Heduanna whispered.
Addu blinked as he looked up the alley. “I think it’s around the corner. Come.”
Heduanna followed close behind as her guide turned into another alley. This one came to a dead end. A small building stood before them with a sconce on its wall, burning bright, as though in defiance of the Reaping itself. Two large pomegranates grew in a garden surrounded by aromati
c herbs. A square of leather had been stretched over the garden to protect it from the frost.
“This is it,” Addu said as they crouched behind a sage bush. “You go in. I will wait for you here and escort you back to the temple when you are finished.”
Heduanna shook her head. “No, you’ve done quite enough. I will find my own way back.”
Addu laughed a single chuckle. “I doubt it, Princess. I recall our midnight escapades with some fondness. Your sense of direction is awful.”
Heduanna raised her eyebrows. The flirtatious tone in Addu’s voice was unmistakeable. Perhaps he will choose me on Aktu. “Very well, wait for me here then.” She stood, but Addu suddenly gripped her arm and pulled her down.
“What are you—”
Addu’s hand covered her mouth. “Shhhh,” he hushed in her ear.
A movement by the entrance caught her eye and she leaned forward as Addu released his hold. A figure came out of the witch’s house. A figure, cloaked and cowled, just as Heduanna was, but in a dark cloak, probably woollen and dyed blue. Very luxurious. Not a priest then. Priests and novices were forbidden the cloth born of animals. The figure walked with a swift pace and utter silence; something about the gait seemed familiar.
“Gone,” Addu whispered. “At least we know the witch is taking customers tonight.” He gave her a questioning look. “Why do you want to see her?”
Heduanna raised her chin as she stood. “I can’t tell you that. I’ll be as quick as I can.” She stepped out from the shadows of the pomegranates, into the flickering light of the sconce, and to the door. It creaked as she opened it and entered.
Inside, a single sconce lit up the back wall. The gleaming shine of several jars and pots lined the shelves. Incense burned on the high bench near the sconce and the rich scent of myrrh filled the space – an indulgent extravagance. Myrrh was only ever used in the palace on important occasions. The witch did well for herself it seemed.
The room was rich with various scents and something more. Sensations and energies, both strange and familiar swirled and jostled for prominence. Heduanna’s breath quickened. It felt almost as though the goddess was with her. She was drawn to a corner, something lingered there, an energy that called to her above all others. She stepped toward the dim corner and her eyes drew to a dark object on the shelf. A black orb. The sphere was the size of a small fist, and when Heduanna gazed into it a sudden rush flowed through her. She longed to pick it up. No, she longed to plunge into its abyss. She reached out and stepped closer…
