by AA Lee
“I paid for this girl,” Kidlat said in an even tone, but Tala could feel the fury in his voice. As a slave, Tala had learned to read emotion through people’s voices because she was expected to lower her head and was unable to look at their faces.
“High priestess.” Master Langit spoke this time, his anger notably petering out. “I already spent the dowry. Harvest is still months away and will surely be a bad one even if it rained tomorrow. I doubt that anyone would lend me money with that as a guarantee. Plenty of girls want to be priestesses. Just please let the girl go.”
“The soonest I could would be tomorrow, if she fails the first trial. If not, she must continue until the end of the week. We will then have a weekly elimination until the end of the month. Pray she fails. That’s the only way you will get her back.”
“She’s a slave!” Kidlat’s calm countenance was replaced by that of an intimidating warrior.
Tala could see other priestesses coming out of their little huts from the corner of her eye. People gathered outside the shrine, just far enough away to view the heated discussion.
“How much did you pay?” the high priestess asked, ignoring the outburst.
“A thousand kwartas,” Kidlat replied.
“Fine. I will pay you back instead. If the girl fails, you can take her and repay me the money.”
Astonished, Tala stepped away from the high priestess. She heard gasps from the spectators. One kwarta was worth two sacks of rice. She couldn’t believe the high priestess hadn’t even questioned her worth as a bride. When she looked at the faces in the crowd, which had started getting closer, she wasn’t sure whether they were in awe of her value or that the high priestess had such amount during their time of hunger.
The high priestess closed the distance between herself and Tala and took her hand. Tala wanted to let go, but the old woman’s grip tightened. “Follow me.” She motioned to Kidlat and Tala’s master.
They entered the hut just a few steps from the shrine’s door. It was identical to the other huts around the shrine. It had stairs with only three steps and a main room that was so small they had to put the high priestess’s mattress aside for the four of them to have space to sit. They faced another door that Tala thought led to the kitchen or was perhaps just a back door.
The high priestess let go of Tala’s hand and opened the other door, closing it so quickly behind her that Tala couldn’t see what lay beyond. Tala did her best to stare at the floor, not wanting to look or talk to the two men.
The high priestess returned quickly, to Tala’s relief. She held a purse made of abaca fiber. It hit the floor with a thud. “A thousand kwartas.”
Kidlat picked up the purse without counting. The high priestess raised her eyebrow, as if wanting the man to confirm the amount.
Kidlat shook his head. “I don’t want to hear more about the girl’s status. After a month, and only after will you speak about this matter—unless she fails before then.”
The two men nodded and left the hut without another word, which, to Tala, was rude, considering the status of the high priestess, but the old woman showed no sign of disapproval on her face. Instead, she stood up and told Tala to follow her.
Outside, the crowd still gathered. Tala’s cheeks felt hot because she was not used to people staring at her. The high priestess continued walking past the huts. Tala felt like she was on parade with onlookers on each side. She looked down and drooped her shoulders, making herself look smaller. Finally, the high priestess made a turn toward the back of the shrine. Priestesses still looked out the doors of their huts, but the crowd had thinned.
Tala looked up when the high priestess stopped walking and opened the door of the hut behind the shrine. Tala followed the high priestess into the hut, which had nothing but dust and cobwebs inside.
“You have to clean this because we don’t have servants here, and you will have a roommate, another contender.”
Tala only nodded, already thinking of how she could pay the dowry so she could have a chance of finding a better husband.
“Tomorrow is the opening ceremony of the Priestess Trials as well as the first trial.” The high priestess’s voice was low, but she spoke with authority. “The last thing you want to do is cower. The competition is fierce. Don’t let go of the chance to win unless you want to go back to life as a slave and die.”
“A slave? My roommate is a slave?” A pale girl with tight curls stood outside the hut. She looked like she was about to flee. “I want a different roommate.”
“How about you try out next year?” The high priestess put her hands on her hips.
The girl didn’t answer, but it was clear that the high priestess had shot her down.
“But… but…”
“You have to be kind, or you’re out.” The high priestess walked toward the girl. “If I hear you whine again, I won’t accept you, this time or ever. We don’t need whiny priestesses.”
Tala expected the girl to storm away, but she bowed and kept her head low. “Yes, High Priestess.”
“Good. Now, Tala, this is Malaya. Malaya, this is Tala.”
Malaya nodded toward Tala, and Tala nodded in acknowledgement.
“Now, you two clean this hut, and get your things organized. I have to go make sure the other girls are doing fine.”
Malaya waited for the high priestess to leave before she climbed the stairs. She stayed in the doorway and made sure the high priestess was out of earshot before she faced Tala. “I’ll make sure you don’t last here, slave girl.”
Chapter 8
Kisig
Kisig felt the urge to yawn, but he resisted the temptation. Instead, he took a deep breath and sipped water from his wooden cup. Afraid that Daa would attack while he was asleep, he threw away the sleeping potion the healer had given him.
“Two months should be enough time for us to prepare, Datu. We did drills even when we weren’t planning an attack. We have enough men to guarantee a victory, so we just need to prepare food, weapons… and I’m waiting for the map of Daa to be completed. What I’m concerned about is the magic to aid us. I’ve heard that Daa has strong magicians, and they recruited more last year. Our magicians are almost nonexistent, so we have to rely on the priestesses.”
Head Warrior Bagsik was right. Nayon magicians were something he had overlooked because most thought that magic should be left to the women. The few gifted men they’d found had opted to join the warriors and train to fight instead of honing their gifts. But Kisig believed the main reason they didn’t have enough magicians was that men were afraid to look weak alongside the priestesses.
Despite his dream to lead the warriors, Kisig faced the reality that he was inexperienced and had given full authority to the head warrior. His knowledge about war was limited to oral history passed on to him and an occasional duel with warriors. Besides, Kisig might be the datu, but the head warrior was the one who commanded the men, trained them, and encouraged them. Kisig knew that the warriors would obey the head warrior even if it meant their deaths. He, on the other hand, would fight alongside his best guards to boost the warriors’ spirits and show them he was willing to die with them.
“So, you think we shouldn’t recruit more men?” Kisig asked.
“At this rate, we will die from hunger if we recruit more men. It would take a long time to train them. Better to keep the other able-bodied men working to feed us. Besides, I don’t think Daa warriors will overpower our forces.”
“You have a point.” Kisig sighed. “Now I have to talk to the high priestess to recruit more priestesses, but I doubt two months is enough to train them for battle. They have fire spells and other necessary tricks, but they have never been in a real battle or practiced drills with the warriors.”
“You can’t talk to her, Datu.”
“Why?”
“The opening ceremony will start soon. It’s almost noon.”
“Oh.” Kisig massaged his temples and groaned in protest. “Right, and I should give a sp
eech. I’m sorry, but I have to cut this meeting short to prepare. The plan should remain unknown to your men for now. Train them harder without giving them a reason. If I have time today, I will summon you again. Let’s hope this opening ceremony is quick.”
Head Warrior Bagsik put his right hand to his heart and bowed. Kisig left before he could look up.
“Ganda!” Kisig shouted. The girl appeared as if she had been just around the corner. “Hurry and get my warrior’s suit. I need to give a speech in the Priestess Trials. I’m almost late.”
“Yes, Datu.” Ganda disappeared, her footsteps muted against the stone floor. She returned with his armor made of silver.
The armor glistened in sharp contrast to the wooden walls and dark stone floor. His helmet was lined with gold and decorated with colorful feathers on top. The main armor covered his shoulders down to his hips. The simple lower armor only covered his genitals and circled around his waist. Abaca ropes dyed with different colors tied his armor at the back. With its burdensome weight, wearing it into battle would surely slow Kisig’s movements. The attire was only good for special occasions where he needed to appear as a fearless warrior. He’d once suggested selling it to other villages to aid Nayon’s budget, but that had horrified the officials.
“I’ll prepare your face paint,” Ganda said after putting the armor on the center table.
“No, don’t worry about it. There’s no time. Help me put on the armor.”
During urgent matters, he preferred Ganda’s assistance because she was swift and not timid around him. She tugged at the rope behind him. He stepped into the lower armor, pulled it up, and let her tie the rope at the back. He put on the helmet while he waited for her to finish. It’s not a bad idea to marry her, he thought. Their marriage would benefit his relationship with Hagibis because the man wouldn’t think of him as an enemy, not until Ganda bore a male heir anyway. But of course, Kisig could preserve his life by passing the title on to the child.
Ganda stepped aside and bowed after she finished.
He muttered, “Thanks,” before heading out the door.
The meeting hall was packed when he entered. As far as he could remember, there were more than fifty priestesses already. They stood near the wall like spectators. In the center stood five lines of ten girls each. Everyone looked at him, including the high priestess, who was already on stage. He walked slowly and joined her.
“Datu, may I present to you these fifty girls, all of them confirmed to have magic.” The high priestess’s voice exuded authority. It was loud enough to be heard by all the people inside.
“Thank you, High Priestess, for your effort in gathering those who would be of help to our village.”
The high priestess bowed and took her seat. He remained standing and stared back at the hopeful contenders. Most of them were familiar to him. They had also competed last year and the year before that but had failed. No limit capped how many times a girl could compete. The only restriction was if she got married. Priestesses devoted their time to the village and honing their magic. A family, especially taking care of a husband, was a hindrance to their duties. He saw a few new faces, but like the rest, they were mesmerized by his armor.
A girl at the end of the middle line caught his attention. Unlike the others, her hair was cropped so short that she almost looked like a boy. Girls didn’t simply cut their hair—it denoted their status. Head bowed and shoulders drooping, she looked smaller than the average height. It was as if she were making an effort to appear invisible. He couldn’t see her face, but her skin stood out. It was too dark, like she stayed out in the sun all day. The girl looked familiar, but his mind was too foggy from lack of sleep to know why.
A slave? How interesting. In his nine years as the village datu, it would be the first time he witnessed a slave competing to become a priestess. She won’t last.
He’d heard from Hagibis that the high priestess had spent a thousand kwartas to buy a slave. It had made the official furious, and he’d suggested that the high priestess be held accountable due to the budget shortage. Kisig had not resolved the matter yet. He wanted to disqualify the girl but didn’t want to appear rude in the opening ceremony.
He stood straight like a warrior, ready to start his inspirational speech. Before he could open his mouth, the girl lifted her head ever so slightly. The motion was so minor, he wondered whether it had been his imagination. Then realization hit him. She was the girl he’d mentioned their plan to attack to.
Chapter 9
Tala
Tala couldn’t believe her ears. The high priestess had said all of them had magic. It made sense that she’d insisted Tala participate in the competition, but she couldn’t figure out when the old woman would have been able to discover she had magic. The only time the high priestess had seen her was when she came to roast the frogs. She concluded that perhaps, the high priestess could see whether a person had magic or not just by looking at them. She had been so focused on finding a way to free herself that she’d forgotten that girls needed to have magical abilities to be priestesses.
She looked up slightly, just enough to see the high priestess, only to find that the datu stood alone. Her eyes widened in shock. The warrior she had seen that night when she cooked the frogs was, in truth, the datu. Her heart pounded at the thought of the punishment she could receive for having greeted him improperly. But how could I have known? She barely saw people aside from her mistress, her master, and their daughters. She hardly had chores that required leaving the house besides going to the rice field.
The datu stared back at her, or it could have been her imagination. Maybe he was just looking in her direction and not at her. She moved her head down slowly again, not wanting more attention. She’d had enough exposure yesterday. Just thinking about being the center of curiosity again made her nauseous. In her life, the only time someone had given her attention was when she’d done something wrong and needed to be punished.
“The Priestess Trials’ opening ceremony is my favorite of all ceremonies,” the village datu said in a modulated voice. “For only in this ceremony does your status not matter. Instead, you compete to earn a title. I can see that some of you also tried last year. I admire your persistence in helping the village, and… I have good news! Instead of one priestess, we will need ten new priestesses this year.” The datu paused, as if letting the news sink in.
Tala heard some gasps, and someone clapped, then another person joined, and the room erupted in applause and cheers. She was glad for the distraction. She clapped as well, not wanting to be out of place. She then raised her head to look at the village datu. His upper body was fully covered with silver armor, but his strong legs were bare. She knew he was rich but couldn’t understand the need to wear such a heavy-looking costume.
She resisted the urge to look him in the eyes. Instead, she looked to the high priestess, who was also clapping, but Tala could tell that the high priestess was hearing the news for the first time, just like the rest in the hall.
The datu continued with words of encouragement to the contenders, but they didn’t register in Tala’s mind. She was too anxious and aware of her surroundings to pay attention. The audience clapped again, and Tala realized the datu had finished his speech.
“You see how supportive our Datu is. Let’s show our gratitude for that support in this trial.” The audience clapped at the rise of the high priestess’s voice. “This trial is only the start of your journey. The real challenge begins after you’re accepted as a priestess. You would continue to train under the supervision of the priestesses until you are ready to aid us. But first, let’s have fun as we witness a short display of some of the priestesses’ talents.” She smiled like she was a grandmother facing her grandchildren. “Priestess Hiwaga, make these girls feel at ease, will you?”
An average-looking woman stepped from the side and walked to the front. She had a white handkerchief that she held by one end. She murmured some words, and it turned into a fluffy white r
abbit.
“Catch it!” she shouted as the rabbit hopped from her hand to the contenders.
The lines broke as the contenders ran after the rabbit. It hopped from one girl’s hands to the next without getting caught. Tala stayed at her spot, not wanting to catch it. People would look at her if she succeeded. She didn’t want to be the center of attention. When it passed by her, she moved slowly. The rabbit hopped onto her and stayed longer than it had on other girls’ hands. She looked into its eyes, which looked so real, they made her wonder if it was indeed just a creation of magic.
“Catch it!” Malaya shouted, but Tala hesitated. “Give it to me!” Malaya grabbed the rabbit in frustration.
The rabbit looked at Tala before it hopped away. Another girl sighed in irritation. The girls stopped chasing the rabbit and looked at Tala like she had lost her mind.
Priestess Hiwaga called to the rabbit and turned it back into a handkerchief.
“Impressive!” The high priestess clapped. The others joined in. “Now, let’s see what Priestess Mayumi prepared.”
A pretty young woman, perhaps only a few years older than Tala. stepped in front of the contenders, who had re-formed their lines. She held a staff. She twirled the staff above her head. The chairs of the village datu and the high priestess sparkled with colors. The plain stage turned bright with gold, silver, and red flowers. The walls were no longer wood—they turned into smooth stones. Water glistened as it flowed down them.
“Now!” Even when she shouted, Mayumi’s voice was pleasing to the ears. “Think about a pretty dress you want to wear. I will count to ten. After that, you should be finished picturing of your desired outfit.”
Tala thought about the pretty dresses rich people wore. She wanted colorful dresses, not the plain, dirty dress she wore as a slave. She also wanted to cover her dark skin so people would not think of her as a slave.
