by Judy Mays
But Lilliam ignored her. Instead, she gaped at the man -- the naked man -- kneeling at the stupid twit’s side. A man like she’d never seen before. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a physique that had her mouth watering. She would have this man for herself. Once he learned who she was, he would much rather come to her than wait for that fool Mireya.
After placing the torch in the wall bracket, she laid her hand on his arm -- and shuddered. Muscle. Solid muscle. This man was hers! “I’m Lilliam. Do you wish to bless the Goddess? Come with me, and I will give you great pleasure.” She squeezed his arm.
Shaking off her hand, he lifted the girl to her feet. “Did I hurt you?” he asked her.
Gaping, she shook her head.
“Go get what you came for,” Lilliam snapped. When the frown appeared on his face, she softened her tone. “Hurry. The healer needs her herbs. Now go.”
After a last wide-eyed look, the girl disappeared toward Mireya’s room.
“Never mind the child,” Lilliam cajoled, gripping his arm with both hands. “I’m Lilliam, sister to our King Tzuzahul. Come with me to the chambers of blessings.” She pulled at his arm. “I promise you great pleasure.”
He shook his arm free. “No. I will come back when Mireya is here.” Without another word, he stepped through the door.
Lilliam hurried after him. “Wait!”
He was gone by the time she stepped outside.
Staring into the darkening night, Lilliam clenched her hands into fists. He’d refused her! Lilliam, sister to the king. For Mireya, a farmer’s daughter. Who did he think he was? No man refused her, especially one that handsome. If she couldn’t have him, no one would. Others were interested in yellow hair and blue eyes. Without a second thought, she strode out the door and set off across the square toward the temple of the sun.
* * *
An hour or so before sunrise, Mireya stumbled through the doorway. If strong arms hadn’t caught her, she’d have fallen.
“Careful.”
Shaking her head to clear away her exhaustion, Mireya relaxed against Karrak’s chest. He was always there when she needed him. Then she stiffened. Karrak. A shape shifter.
“Mireya…”
Before he could finish, a group of men burst through the door, clubbed Karrak on the back of the head, and pushed Mireya to the floor.
“Out of the way,” growled the largest. “This man belongs to the temple of the sun.”
Before she could protest, they grabbed him by the wrists and ankles and carried him away. Sobbing, Mireya struggled to her knees. No! Who had betrayed Karrak? No one had seen him come here, had they?
“Mireya?”
Struggling to control herself, Mireya pushed herself to her feet.
“He refused Lilliam.”
Fisting tears from her cheeks, Mireya stared at Ninari. “Refused Lilliam? What are you talking about?”
As her friend helped her to her feet, Mireya leaned heavily against her. “I was just coming to the anteroom when I heard angry voices. Lilliam wanted to service him, and he refused her.”
Mireya blinked the exhaustion from her eyes and stared into her friend’s face. “No one has ever refused Lilliam.”
“Karrak did. Mireya, she went into the Sun Temple.”
Mireya blinked her tears away. “The Sun Temple? Lilliam -- betrayed him?”
Ninari nodded. “She seemed very angry.”
Raking her fingers back off her face, Mireya struggled to gather her wits. Karrak was a prisoner, one who would die very soon. He was too big and strong, too dangerous to let him live long. And he didn’t have anyone but her to help him. How was she going to save him?
Mireya never realized she was talking out loud until Ninari patted her shoulder. “They can’t sacrifice him without a priestess being there. Go to Tula. She’ll help you.”
Sucking in another sobbing breath, Mireya stared out the door then looked back at her friend. Tula was apt to beat her bloody, but what other choice did she have?
Snuffling, she wiped away the last of her tears. She would figure something out. There had to be some way to save Karrak. She would not let the man she loved die.
Ninari grabbed Mireya’s hand. “I’ll come with you and tell Tula what I saw. She’s not going to like what Lilliam did. You’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right, because if you’re not, you’re going to have to rescue me so I can rescue Karrak.”
Chapter Fourteen
Tight, abrasive ropes bound his wrists and ankles, spread-eagling him against the cold, stone wall. Karrak cursed silently. He could not shift to his puma shape. Not tied like this. His cat form couldn’t stand in such a position without dislocating at least two of its legs. Fisting his hands, he tensed his wrists against the ropes. Tight, strong. He wouldn’t be able to free himself.
Flaring his nostrils, he inhaled deeply. Rank odors of old blood and death assailed him, but he ignored them. Nor did he smell anyone else -- alive. He was alone.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, lifted his head off his chest, and looked around. On the other side of the small chamber, torches burned on either side of the door. High above his head, a rectangular hole let in more light. Too high for a human to escape through it. Karrak smiled. He wasn’t human.
He flexed his arms impotently, and a snarl escaped him. He’d have to wait. For the time being, he was a prisoner. But, the minute his hands were free, no matter how many guards there were, he would shift. Then, men would die.
Karrak cursed himself again. He had been so stupid to speak to that other woman. He should have waited for Mireya, but he’d been too worried about her reaction to him being a shape shifter to remember how dangerous it was for him in any town. Too many humans were far more interested in the reward they could claim for delivering someone with light hair or eyes to the priests of the Sun Temples. He’d been a fool to trust that priestess Lilliam, especially after he turned down her advances.
The sound of bare feet slapping against stone pulled him from his thoughts, and he dropped his chin onto his chest again. No reason for his captors to learn he was conscious.
“Here he is. Just as I told you. Golden hair and blue eyes.”
“Wake him,” commanded a gravelly voice. “I would see his eyes for myself.”
Karrak ignored the water thrown into his face. Sun priests, no doubt, with a guard or two.
Irritation crept into the priest’s voice. “Pull his head up and open an eye.”
Someone grabbed a handful of hair and jerked his head up. He felt another reach toward his face. As soon as it was close enough, he bit it, clamping his teeth onto the fleshy part between the thumb and first finger.
Screams rang in his ears.
“Ahhhhhh! Help me! He’s biting my hand off!”
A fist connected with the side of his head, knocking the hand loose.
As the priest crumpled to the ground at his feet, Karrak raised his head and stared into the eyes of the man standing in the doorway.
The multitude of swirling blue tattoos on his face and bare chest were familiar, as was the narrow bald head, the small dark eyes, and bulbous nose. This was the priest, the so-called man of the gods, who had cut the heart out of his mother on a bloody altar under the morning sun because she had yellow hair and blue eyes.
A snarl erupted from Karrak’s throat. “Sithosik. Murderer. You’ll die for your crimes.”
Chuckling, the priest stepped into the room. “Get up, Rultak,” he said to the priest still moaning on the floor. “Stop whining and go fetch my ceremonial robes and dagger. This man is obviously too dangerous to sacrifice anywhere but here.”
“Here? In the belly of the Earth, away from the sun?” Karrak taunted as the bleeding priest scrambled off the floor and out the door. “That would be murder.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, the High Priest grinned and jerked his head upwards toward the hole above their heads. “At noon, the golden rays of the sun shine into this chamber, concentrating their
light on the wall behind you. You’ll die here -- as you should have died years ago.” His grin widened at Karrak’s obvious surprise. “You think I wouldn’t remember? You, the man-child whose mother killed a guard by ripping his throat out with her teeth so you could escape? As I cut her beating heart from her body, I swore you would lie under my knife one day. That day has arrived.”
Snarling with frustration, Karrak tensed all of his muscles in a vain attempt to break his bonds. Blood began to trickle down his arms.
The priest and the two guards with him laughed.
“Fool,” Sithosik said, “you can’t escape.”
Closing his eyes, Karrak stopped struggling and took one deep breath, then another. As his chest relaxed, he opened his eyes. “Listen carefully, priest. I will not be the one to die today. You meddle with forces you can’t control.”
The two guards’ laughter grew louder. “Careful, my priest,” the bulkier one said. “Here is a dangerous man, with his arms and legs tied to the wall like a deer to be slaughtered.” He lifted the blunt end of the spear he carried and used it to lift Karrak’s cock. “Maybe he’ll grow this and bludgeon you with it.” More laughter followed.
“Here are your robes and knife,” the younger priest bleated as he stumbled back into the chamber, “and I sent a message to the priestesses, and Ruderr comes.”
Whirling, the older priest grabbed his assistant by the throat. “Fool. Why did you do that?”
Gasping and gagging in his superior’s grip, Rultak said, “Two full priests and a priestess must attend every sacrifice.”
“I am here, Sithosik. The sacrifice will be properly blessed,” Lilliam said from the doorway.
Karrak turned his attention to her. “Blasphemer!” he snarled when he saw the jaguar skin she had draped over one shoulder and belted at her waist. “Priests and priestesses are forbidden to wear that skin.”
She rose to her full height and spat, “I’m of royal blood. I have the right to wear the sign of royalty.”
“You have need of me?” asked another voice.
Lilliam sauntered across the chamber to stand next to Sithosik. Frowning, he motioned the other man into the room. “There, Rultrak. Ruderr has arrived. Two priests and a priestess. The sacrifice can take place.”
“Sacrifice? What sacrifice?” Ruderr asked.
Biting off a low oath Karrak heard, Sithosik turned toward the other man. “Blond hair and blue eyes. He must be sacrificed immediately.”
Ruderr stared at Karrak.
For a brief moment, Karrak thought he saw pity in his eyes.
“A sacrifice with blond hair and blue eyes is a momentous occasion,” Ruderr said, “one that calls for great ceremony so the people of the town can properly send his spirit on. Midsummer festival is only three days away.”
“No!” Sithosik spat. “He’s too dangerous. Already he’s wounded Rultrak. We can’t take a chance on him escaping.”
Ruderr crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re rushing this sacrifice. Why?”
Striding across the room, Sithosik brandished the knife in Ruderr’s face. “I’m High Priest, and I say he dies today.”
Ruderr didn’t flinch. “If that is what you wish, Sithosik, but I feel in my bones that you’ll rue your haste.”
“Quiet, fool…”
“Why was I summoned to the Sun Temple in the middle of the day?” demanded another female voice.
As both Ruderr and Sithosik turned, Lilliam cursed.
Karrak jerked his attention to the other side of the chamber. In the doorway stood three more priestesses. The one in the middle wore the ceremonial robes and elaborately carved mask of the High Priestess. She stood still, her arms folded over her breasts, and repeated, “Why have I been summoned?”
Karrak dropped his head to hide his smile.
That was Mireya’s voice behind the mask.
Chapter Fifteen
Ruderr bowed.
A disgusted expression on his face, Sithosik nodded. “I didn’t expect you, Tula.”
“Obviously not,” she answered in a muffled voice as she stepped to Ruderr’s side, her two attendants at her back. “Why are we standing in the belly of your temple if there is to be a sacrifice to the sun?”
Karrak kept his head down. Mireya had lowered her voice to disguise it. Whatever she’d planned, he hoped she accomplished it before the others realized her deception.
Sithosik’s tone became cajoling. “Sometimes those to be sacrificed are overwhelmed by the honor to the extent that they might hurt themselves if we attempt to lead them to the top of the pyramid. The noon sun will shine into this chamber. This is an acceptable place.”
The masked priestess snorted. “Why is he not properly prepared?”
Sithosik took a step back. “What?”
“You are losing your memory, old man,” she snapped in an irritated voice. “The holy blue symbols that are to be painted on his body.”
Karrak bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing outright as Sithosik muttered a low curse. The old priest had been so eager to kill him, he’d failed to follow ceremony, something he could not afford to ignore if he wanted to remain in power. Obviously, Mireya was trying to stall the sacrifice until the noon sun passed. Then Karrak frowned. Even if Mireya succeeded in delaying Sithosik for another day, he was still in a precarious position if he didn’t somehow manage to free himself.
“I brought the holy dye,” Rultrak blurted out as he held up a clay jar. “I knew we needed it.”
An evil smile appeared on Sithosik’s face. “Good. Go paint him.”
The young priest recoiled, holding up his hastily bandaged hand. “I can’t.”
Sighing, Ruderr said, “Give it to me. I’ll do it.”
Only Karrak saw the knuckles on Mireya’s hands whiten as she struggled to control herself.
Pot in one hand, a thin stick in the other, Ruderr approached Karrak. “There are words to be chanted.”
After another muttered curse. Sithosik began to chant. Rultrak joined him.
“Lilliam!” the masked priestess snapped. “Honor the sacrifice.”
Lilliam started to say something, thought better of it, then joined in the chant.
Karrak concentrated on the approaching priest. Something about him was different, something he should remember.
The chanting grew louder as the two guards joined in.
Stopping before him, the priest dipped the thin stick into the jar. “Are they watching?” he asked in a low voice.
Karrak stared into his eyes.
“I know what you are,” Ruderr added as he traced a series of circles over Karrak’s heart. “You are not the first avatar I’ve seen.”
Knowledge bloomed. “Balam spared your life,” Karrak answered in a low voice.
“Are they watching me?” Ruderr repeated.
Karrak glanced over the other man’s shoulder. “Sithosik is gesturing with his knife. Everyone is watching him.”
“Good,” Ruderr grunted. “He’s concentrating on the ceremony and not on you. Don’t move.”
Slowly and carefully, Ruderr drew a blue line up Karrak’s arm. When he reached his wrist, Karrak felt the sharp sting of an obsidian knife.
“I can’t cut all the way through or the ropes will fall.”
Karrak nodded infinitesimally, but kept his eyes on Sithosik.
As the chanting continued, and the sunlight began to fill the chamber, Ruderr painted blue lines, swirls, and circles up and down Karrak’s legs and arms and on his torso. When he finished, he stepped back and turned to Sithosik.
Noonday sun beamed through the hole in the roof, enveloping Karrak in its warmth.
Across the room, Mireya kept her arms crossed over her breasts, clenching her forearms with her hands to keep them from shaking as she watched Ruderr paint symbols on Karrak. If Sithosik realized she was not Tula, all would be lost. What if Tula was wrong about Ruderr? What if he was loyal to his head priest and ignored the knife she’d sli
pped into his hand when she’d stepped to his side? Karrak couldn’t free himself without help. And if he didn’t free himself, he would die.
Patience, child. I do not allow my avatars to die so ignominiously.
Starting, Mireya looked around. Avatar? Who had just spoken?
Sunlight poured into the chamber. Karrak’s fair complexion and tawny hair glowed golden.
“He looks like a god himself,” hissed one of the guards.
Mireya glanced his way, but her gaze stopped on Lilliam.
The other woman had stopped chanting. Face flushed, the nipple on the breast not covered by the jaguar skin distended against her shift, Lilliam stared at Karrak. She wiped her hands on her thighs and moved restlessly, spreading her legs slightly. She tore her eyes from Karrak and glanced back at Sithosik. She licked her lips. The bulge at the front of his robe left no doubt as to at least some of his thoughts.
Mireya bit the inside of her cheek again, this time to hold in her shout of disgust. Both of them were aroused anticipating the coming sacrifice.
She closed her eyes. Please, please, please, they had to save Karrak. No one should die simply because of the color of his hair. Besides, she loved him. Mireya shivered. Goddess help her, she’d fallen in love with the man.
Finally, you’ve admitted it to yourself. Now watch.
Mireya jerked her eyes open as the chanting reached a crescendo.
Demoniacal light shining in his eyes, Sithosik clenched his knife in his hand and stepped toward Karrak.
“No!” Mireya screamed pulling the heavy mask from her head, not caring if anyone recognized her. If Karrak died, she didn’t care what happened to her.
Sunlight streaming around him, the priest raised the knife over his head. “Die. Now.”
Karrak flexed his wrists. The ropes holding him to the wall snapped.
As the priest stumbled back, Karrak jerked first one then the other leg free.
“Capture him, you fools.”
Grasping their clubs, the guards stumbled forward.
But Karrak disappeared into a fog of golden mist. When it cleared, a huge puma stood snarling before them.
