Remembered

by Hazel Hunter

  The Oracle stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest. She was watching Galia keenly. Galia took a deep breath, and stepped forward. She drew the bundle of switches back, and hesitated. Her mind raced, trying to think of any way out. There had to be a way to avoid this. Why did Mina not fight?

  The Oracle tsked loudly.

  Galia found that she had lowered the reeds. She raised them again, her throat and chest tightening.

  Forgive me, my love!

  She brought them down across Mina’s buttocks. Mina did nothing more than draw in a sharp breath.

  Do it again, Galia thought. Do it again or it will be worse for her.

  She started striking Mina, watching from outside herself as her lover’s flesh grew red and began to raise in small welts. Mina’s breaths turned into writhing moans, and then tortured grunts. Galia saw Mina’s knuckles go white gripping the legs of the stool. Her back arched with each strike. Her head jerked up. The beautiful flesh jumped with each smacking lash. The stool scuffed loudly against the floor. But Mina never cried out. Galia felt woozy, the reeds hard to grip in her sweaty hand. Though Galia still struck her, Mina had stopped jerking. The sharp corners of the stool bit into her stomach and heaving chest. Galia was just thinking that the punishment was meant to go on forever when the Oracle called for a halt.

  “All right, that’s enough. Mina, get up.”

  It took every ounce of willpower that Galia could summon not to rush to Mina’s side. At first Mina fell to one knee, her breathing harsh and uncontrolled. Her arms shook with the effort to push away from the stool.

  “You may consider this incident closed,” the Oracle said to her. “You can put on your clothes and return to your work. You took that well.”

  Galia let the rods fall from her numb fingers, so cold that she could barely feel them. Mina dressed stiffly, her rounded flesh almost raw. Galia winced at her jerky movements. Still, Mina bowed deeply to both of them.

  “Thank you, Lady,” she murmured.

  Galia nearly vomited.

  Mina staggered to the door, tugged it open, and left. When someone else closed the door, Galia turned a heated glare to the Oracle, only to see her smile approvingly.

  “There are many who have the spark, but few have the ruthlessness to do what must be done. I think you may last.”

  Galia saw the truth in one painful flash. This was the true reason the Oracle had allowed her to bring Mina. She was a tool to be used to control her.

  “Would you rather she had been sent away?” the Oracle asked, as she watched Galia’s face. “I did not exaggerate about a lifetime of overwork.” Galia clenched her jaw, not trusting her voice for a reply. “Of course I cannot compel you to continue this way,” the Oracle said, sounding philosophical. “An unwilling heart is one I cannot turn. If you stay, you will become as I am. Someday, you might watch a heartbroken girl whip a lover, and you will feel nothing but satisfaction. At this moment, the decision is yours in a way that it never will be again.”

  Galia felt her mouth go dry. Here it was. This was where her life turned. It was where she and Mina would live or die. In the end, as with all choices when it came to Mina, it was no choice at all.

  “I will stay,” Galia said.

  The Oracle’s smile was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

  “What a fine decision.”

  * * *

  • • • • •

  * * *

  It was five days before Mina appeared at her window again. When she did, Galia gasped.

  “Your hair!”

  Mina’s white hair had been cropped down to nearly nothing. There was a livid purple bruise on the side of her face.

  “Like it? It makes it hard for anyone to grab me. Like the bruise?”

  “I don’t! Are you all right?” Though Galia carefully caressed the side of Mina’s face, it wasn’t the bruise she was talking about. Tears instantly stung Galia’s eyes. “You shouldn’t have come,” she whispered. “But I’m frightfully glad you did.”

  “It was my fault,” Mina whispered, pulling her into an embrace. “I should have left by the window. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “Why didn’t you run? Why didn’t you fight?”

  “They said they would punish you,” she said, resigned.

  Galia was ashamed for not already knowing the answer. It was obvious, wasn’t it? The Oracle used each of them to control the other, their love twisted into some cruel tool.

  Galia shook her head, tears running down her cheeks. “Can you forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” Mina said, wiping away the tears. “I’m not one who wants to fetch pots all day, you know.” Mina brightened. “Besides, now I’m learning to fight!”

  As Mina pulled her to the bed, Galia couldn’t help but smile. Despite the short hair and bruise, Mina talked excitedly about her training. She was nowhere near as large and tough as some of the fighters on the field, but her speed was making her a legend. She spoke of the men and women who surrounded her like a new family. She spoke of the food that was plentiful and the way the instructor told them that their bodies were weapons, and therefore had to be tended as if they were such.

  Galia’s own training had been far less notable. She worked with the Oracle honing her skills of concentration. She dived inward to touch her own power, even as Mina burst outward.

  As her lover spoke, Galia finally understood that she had made the right decision. If the price of their happiness, of Mina’s ability to smile again, was for Galia to dispatch cruelty as though she were born to it, then so be it.

  After a while, the two of them fell silent, sitting next to each other on the bed. This time there was no faltering preamble or accidental touch. When Galia looked into Mina’s eyes, Mina leaned in to kiss her, and Galia melted into it.

  I’ll strip the skin from her if I have to, but if they make me give up Mina, I’ll turn to stone in their hands.

  Her body longed to give in to the pleasure that Mina offered. In fact, she knew she would. But before she could allow it, there was a price of her own that needed to be paid.

  “Wait,” Galia said, pulling away. “Wait just a moment.”

  “What? Are you all right?”

  “I am but first, there is something I need.”

  Galia had slowly and secretly gathered long, thick reeds as the floral arrangement in her room had been changed. It was quite beautiful, purple flowers set with spring branches and green leaves. Now she crossed to it as Mina watched, mystified. Galia pulled the three branches from the arrangement. She stripped the green leaves from them until they were bare. When she swished them through the air, they made a soft whoosh. She nodded. She had been right, they would serve.

  “Galia, what in the name of the gods are you doing?”

  “I need you to strike me,” Galia said, coming to the bed. “I need you to strike me hard.”

  In the dim light of the candles, she saw something flicker across Mina’s face.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You heard me. I’m going to strip to my skin, and I want you to beat me.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Please,” she took Mina’s hand and pressed the switches into them. “Please, I need this.”

  Whether it was Mina’s hunger or her own pleading voice that tipped the balance, Mina took the branches.

  Galia quickly slipped her dress from her shoulders, and climbed up on the bed. She pulled a pillow close as she got down on her knees and her elbows.

  “The safest place to strike is the area above my knees to the crease of my buttocks,” she said softly. The words had echoed in her mind since the Oracle had said them. Now they came out of her mouth as easily as breathing.

  “All right,” Mina said, her breath slightly rough.

  Galia wondered what was going through her lover’s mind. She wondered if Mina was afraid, or hot with need, or something else entirely. Then the switches came down, and
her mind was clear of any thought at all.

  The first swat was a stinging blow that shocked her completely. She had been struck before in her life, but never bare-skinned. She had been slapped by her parents. She had been hit when she was herded onto the slave ship. But none of that had ever been close to the woman she loved striking her so deliberately.

  When Mina raised her hand for a second blow, Galia grabbed the pillow and buried her face in it. She knew they had to be quiet. When she cried out, she let the fabric and feathers carry away the sound. The second blow was even harder than the first, and the third harder still.

  Her body strained against the pain the way that Mina’s had. Sweat beaded up on her sides. She writhed and jerked, but she didn’t try to move away. She welcomed it. She let it carry her away to a place that was clean and free: free of the hard decisions, free of the training that was changing her in ways she couldn’t understand.

  The blows fell without pause. It was up to Mina to stop, because Galia never would. Her flesh was on fire, each blow worse than the first. But she screamed into the pillow. How Mina had stood it without crying out, Galia would never know. Her legs and arms quivered, and as each new blow came down, her entire body convulsed.

  Finally, a blow fell and no other came after it. Galia’s body sagged, but then a stroke came that made her shriek into the pillow. It was harder than any of the ones that came before it. For a moment, she was certain that Mina had split her skin. Her hand flew back to touch the abused flesh. But she was startled to feel nothing more than hot skin. Mina pulled her hand away.

  “Beautiful, beautiful Galia,” Mina murmured.

  Galia started to turn around, but Mina’s hands on her hips kept her right where she was. Galia’s legs had slid apart, revealing her damp sex. Now Mina knelt behind her and pressed her face into Galia’s most private parts, her tongue damp, hungry and seeking.

  The shock of Mina kissing her so intimately was quelled by the intensity of the pleasure that she felt. It rose up through her like a tide. As it had the first time they were together, it took her over. Her climax crashed into her, and when it threatened to ebb, Mina’s hands on her smarting rear drove it higher.

  Galia screamed into the pillow again, but it was pleasure this time––pleasure that left her sobbing.

  The last pulses of it were riding through her when Mina pushed her down on the bed. Mina latched her legs around Galia’s body, rubbing her clit against the curve of Galia’s hip. In just a few moments, she found her own pleasure and lay shaking next to Galia’s side. Their bodies were limp and damp with pleasure. Galia had never felt so drained and so good.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, running her hand over the soft bristle of Mina’s pale hair.

  “I can understand it,” Mina said softly. “When I’m on the practice ground, everything is gone but me and my opponent. The pain is good whether I am giving it or taking it. Here, there is nothing but you and I, and what we can feel together.”

  “Yes,” Galia sighed.

  She rolled on her side to touch her rear gingerly. It was unmarked for the most part, except for the intense heat. There was one, fat welt where Mina had struck the last blow, but she could feel even that going down. It would remind her of her switching every time she sat down tomorrow, and that made her smile.

  “I think we will survive this place,” Galia said.

  “We will,” Mina promised.

  Chapter 8

  Five Years Later

  * * *

  The Oracle glared at Galia.

  “You seriously think that the poor won’t simply swarm the wagons? You truly think this will help?”

  Galia nodded, her eyes bright.

  “There are children on the edges of Tenebris who go to bed hungry five nights out of six. This will help.”

  The Oracle shook her head.

  “On your head be it. You will make the decisions soon enough, and the people of the city might as well realize what an idiot they have.”

  Despite her cutting tone, there was something that was almost grudgingly respectful about the way she spoke to Galia now. The last five years had heralded many changes. Galia had finally learned that the Oracle was an empath, and the white wolf was her animal familiar. It was only fitting that Galia knew, since she was now the Oracle’s successor. She had been initiated into the mysteries of the Goddess of Tenebris. She had overseen the votive offerings. Galia was coming to know the force of the Goddess as well. She could feel the power there, and the longer she worked with it, the more she could feel her own prescient skills come into existence.

  But also as the years passed, she thought no less frequently of Strayke. Memories tinged with sadness seemed always to hover close by. At times they would startle her at night, or when she sat at lessons with the Oracle. She wondered if he would recognize her now, dressed in green silk with gold clasps at her shoulders. She was not the frightened northern girl he had last seen. She wondered how he had changed, or if he had even survived.

  As Galia walked through the halls of the palace, she turned her mind to thoughts of what lay ahead. Tenebris called itself the richest and most powerful city in the world, but Galia had walked around the fringes of the city, where the poor were kept. She saw how they lived, and how even a small amount of food could save lives.

  If we feed them a copper’s worth of bread, they’ll let us pull gold pieces from their hides and their hearts.

  She shook the cruel words out of her head, though she knew in her heart they were true. She had learned to think more and more like the Oracle over the years, though she had never lost a certain softness that made her mistress despair. They would never be the same Oracle, no matter when she stepped up. The Oracle was feared before all else. Her judgements and predictions had saved the city time after time, and her punishments were swift. Galia, with her soft heart and her eye towards the most vulnerable, was something else. Sometimes, when she walked, women would ask for her to bless their wombs, or the vendors would ask her to bless the tools of their trade. She was a different face of the Goddess, and the people around her knew it. Her thoughts were full of bread and grain when Mina came around the corner.

  Mina was at least twenty pounds heavier than she was when she first came to the palace, and it was pure muscle. She wore a sword belted at her waist, and when Galia needed to venture into town, it was usually Mina and some of her rough friends from the barracks accompanying her. Galia smiled immediately, and then covered it at once.

  “Good afternoon, beautiful lady,” Mina said, stepping to one side with her hand over her heart.

  It was an old fashioned and even obsequious way of greeting her, but it suited Mina somehow. Sometimes, Galia wondered if it only suited Mina because they both knew that in the darkest reaches of the night, it would be Mina who drove her to passion’s height, who pounded her rear with a hairbrush, who bit her hard enough to leave bruises.

  They passed one another in the hall, and Galia was careful to look away. She could feel the marks that Mina had left on her breasts still. The faint and arousing pain accompanied her as she made her way to the accounting rooms, where the money for the palace was tallied and scored. She needed to find a way to pay for the bread.

  She worked with Rhea on the accounts. They sat for hours, poring over the ledgers, before Galia finally had to stretch and give it up.

  “My head is full of numbers and I think if I keep going, it will turn to mush,” she said. “I’ll come back to this tomorrow, and we can decide then. Would that be all right?”

  “We can come to this again,” Rhea said, putting her stylus down. “Though I still don’t know why you’d send perfectly good food to the edges of the city.” She shook her head and stood. “Now let me take you by the hand, and walk you to the kitchens. I know that you’ve not eaten since morning. If I let you go, you will simply tell me that you don’t care enough to eat before tomorrow.”

  Galia smiled and allowed herself to be led away from the books. Some
times it felt as if Rhea was truly the one who made the palace run smoothly. She was of an age with the Oracle. In the same way that the Oracle had made herself the spine of the city, Rhea had made herself the busy heart of the palace. Galia had learned that Rhea’s Wiccan gift was astral projection. With it, she monitored virtually everything.

  “Are you prepared for the Longest Day?” Rhea asked as they walked. “It will be coming soon.”

  “Prepared enough, I think.” Galia was hedging, and from the look on Rhea’s face, she knew it. “Honestly, I’m a little afraid. I don’t know what’s going to happen, and the Oracle won’t tell me, either.”

  Rhea’s smile was warm, as she squeezed Galia’s hand. “Well, it is nothing less than the Oracle went through herself after all. She survived it, and so will you.”

  “The Oracle has ice water in her veins, but I will try to take comfort in your words. I only hate not knowing.”

  The Oracle had decided that the time had come for Galia to take on some of the duties of the priestess. She needed to rise up in the eyes of the Goddess, and the time for doing so would be the Longest Day. It would begin a season of revelry in the city, and it would only end with the Firefly Festival a month later. Galia didn’t know what it would mean to become the inviolate priestess that the Oracle was. A great part of her feared it, though she knew it was a step she had to take. If the Oracle said she was ready, then she was ready.

  Over the years, her gift had snapped into focus, as she had become more fully herself. Though Tenebris was powerful and beautiful, there was something terrifying about it and its Goddess. When Galia could feel that Goddess searching for her, something at the bottom of her soul quaked. She did not know if she would be the priestess that the Oracle had been. She didn’t know if she could live up to the woman’s legacy. All she knew was that she had to try.