Symeon squeezed the water bottle and patted Hanna’s arm. “What you have done tonight has built me up. With God’s help, I will not falter. Please be careful, and may our God protect you through the coming tribulations.”
“Hey in there!” The guard’s anxiety was growing. He had waited as long as he dared, fearing the demon creature’s wrath. But the time was late, and he knew the
sergeant would be growing impatient. He called out with timid bravado, “Come on, gotta get goin’. Time is up. You gotta leave.”
The little creature hissed. “It’s not done talking! A curse it is on them! No money for pretty boys if master becomes angry.”
The guard’s voice quivered in fear as he warned, “One minute, then. That’s all you can have.”
Symeon cautioned, “You better go. You got in here by your wits, but the door of escape is not yet opened to you. No need creating suspicion.” He took her hands in his.
“Oh, how I do thank you for being here tonight, and for all the things you have told me?”
“Good bye, my dear friend.” Hanna worked to hold back tears. “Someday… I don’t know when, but someday we shall be together again. God bless.” She slipped her hands from his and slowly turned to leave.
The stinky little creature instantly returned. “Hee, hee. Sh… sh… like a mouse.”
Then it quietly giggled some more and slowly waddled toward the door.
The guard raised his lamp to see about the prisoner. When the light revealed Symeon to still be alive and apparently well, he let out a sigh. As the creature neared him, it raised its hand to its hood. “Good child! Good child! Not hurt bad man…
promised… promised.” It looked at the spear and then up at the guard, angrily hissing as it passed.
Closing the door behind him, the guard followed the creature up the stairs and along the many hallways until reaching the sergeant’s chambers. The sergeant turned away from the brazier, his shadow falling across the little creature. He grinned while extending his hand. “We’ve done our part. Now give us what you’ve promised. Where is the money?”
The little creature hesitated, glancing around the room. A little hiss escaped from under the hood. “Master said it would cheat the others. He said the man with the bossy mouth would steal all the money for himself.” It cocked its head, asking, “Where are all the good boys I promised the money to? I see only one.”
The creature, pointing a finger at the sergeant, threatened, “Master has the money!
Your soul for the dammed if you should try to cheat the good boys. I will give you the money where master can see me give it, outside the gate!” It then cooed in a nasty hiss,
“Or shall you buy the way with your soul?”
The sergeant was indignant. He raised his voice, shaking a fist as he declared his innocence. In the middle of his tirade, the creature coughed, spewing some dark liquid onto the floor. The sergeant gasped, stepping back as the creature cackled with laughter…
“The blood of jackals at your feet is laid.
In the hand of the helmsman your soul is weighed.
A ransom of gold must now be made.
‘Ere the sun does rise, your debt must be paid.”
It pawed the air, “Come! Come with me and I shall show you the way to the boatman. He waits for you. Hurry! Hurry! I know him well. He will like you… hee hee… like you.”
The sergeant put up a brave protest, swearing oaths and making threats, but his voice betrayed a growing fear. Finally the little creature, acting disappointed, shook its head, wondering, “Doesn’t loud boy want to go with little child? Too bad... Too bad... Then must come and get money… good money.”
Without hesitation, the sergeant called to the guard as he ushered the creature from the chamber. Up the last set of steps and into the cold of the foggy street, the sergeant didn’t stop until they were all outside. The guard keeping watch there hurried over to the others. Now, breathing the fresh crisp air, a renewed boldness entered the sergeant as he hailed the creature. “There now, we kept our end of the bargain. What of our money?”
“Money? Yes, yes, money.” It turned back to the three men and laughed, “Will get money for nice boys, good boys.”
“What do you mean get!? ” the sergeant cried, thinking more of the curse the little creature had pronounced on him. “Where is the money?!”
Defensively, the creature replied, pointing into the darkness, “Over there, over there.”
“You’re lying!” shouted the sergeant, desperation growing in his voice.
The creature shook its head. “Not lie… no… no… not lie. Little child does not lie.”
It bobbed up and down. “Master promised. Yes, yes he did.” Looking into suspicious faces, it pleaded, “Come with nice child, good little child. Will get money.”
Finally, the sergeant, motioning the guards to accompany him, followed the creature as far as the gate. The little creature began humming some strange tune as it passed through the opening in the fence. It turned back and beckoned, “Come, come with good little child, nice boys, good boys.” Reaching out for the arm of the first guard, it begged,
“Please...”
The guard, screaming in fright, jumped back, shouting, “I’ll stick you! I will! I will!”
“Come!” the creature cried. “Come get the money, the pretty money! Master says to give you the pretty money.”
The sergeant ordered the guards to follow the creature. They refused to move.
Every curse word and threat the sergeant knew could not force them to budge. Finally, he snarled at the creature, “You get the money and bring it here!”
The little creature turned, muttering to itself in disgust, “Go get money… Not come with child for money... Must bring money to silly boys… silly, foolish boys.” It cackled while smacking its lips, catching itself up short, “Not hungry. Not hungry now.”
The creature dissolved into the darkness. The men could hear it talking and muttering about the gold and the bad little boys as it moved toward the far end of the animal pen. A little while later a heated argument ensued, the creature complaining about the bad little boys and how it didn’t want to give them the money. Then came a loud smack and all was quiet. Moments later, a small purse was flung past them, hitting the stone pavement with a ‘plop!’
The second guard scooped up the bag, which was promptly confiscated by the sergeant. With shaking fingers, he opened it, tipping the contents into his hand. Out fell three silver and two gold stater coins…a half-year’s wages.
The guards whooped with joy, chattering about their newfound wealth. The sergeant gleefully handed a silver coin to each guard and began to pocket the rest, that is, until the
one guard reminded him of what the little creature had warned about, sharing and all. A lively argument broke out, lasting until the sun peeked over the eastern hills.
The outcome was uncertain, at least for Hanna, for she had quickly disappeared, parting the scene through a sewer grate on the far side of the pens. By the time the sun arrived, the stinky little creature was little more than a memory, as Hanna was now preparing another charade.
* * *
“Wake up, you old fool! Something’s a’foul, and I want to know why!” Treston kicked Tanner’s cot, jolting him out of a restless dream.
Tanner’s sleepy eyes popped open, filled with surprise. At seeing the anger on his captain’s face, he threw his hands up in front of his own. “What? What, my Lord?
What’s the matter?”
Treston was in no mood to be pleasant. “That girl’s the problem, you ass! What did you do to her last night?”
“It’s not my fault!” Tanner cried, sitting up on the raggedy old cot, beginning to fidget nervously. “Perk wanted it done.”
“Wanted what done!?” shouted Treston. “What did Perk want done?”
Tanner was awake now. Fearing he had said too much already, he fussed and fretted, pretending to be confused over the question. Treston grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him to his feet. “You come with me, shit weed! I want to know the reason for this mess.”
Torches set along the passageways were all alight, casting their flickering blazes into corners long hidden. Treston had called out his entire guard, the men assembling in the prison, leaving little room to navigate the narrow corridors.
Tanner was already unnerved, being dragged from his sleep and roughly manhandled by Treston, the chief of the guard. Treston was head of the governor’s judicial police, over two hundred soldiers. He rarely visited the governor’s prison this early in the day, and when he did, it was often at a high cost to some unfortunate. Tanner was beginning to fear that he was this day’s candidate.
“Sergeant of the guard!” Treston called out.
A grizzled soldier, a flagellum tucked in his belt, hurried toward him, responding,
“Yes, my Lord...” as he stopped and saluted Treston.
Treston motioned the man into line. “If he doesn’t have the right answers, maybe you can help get some.”
Tanner cowered as the sergeant sidled up next to him, frowning, “Has our little titmouse been up to some mischief?”
“No,” Treston shook his head, “I believe our watchdog has been sniffing the bitch
‘stead of guarding the door.”
Tanner cried out, “My Lord, I h’aint sniffed nothin’! I just done my job is all!” He began to whimper, “All poor Tanner’s done’s his job. H’aint smelt nothin’.”
The sergeant poked Tanner in his side. “Shut up, fool! Lord Treston was only makin’ a point. You ain’t dead…yet...”
Treston took the two men along, stopped outside one of the prison rooms and looked Tanner in the face, politely asking, “Now would you be kind enough to explain to us just what happened here last night?”
Tanner began to shake. He feared Treston’s reputation. The man had been known to disembowel a person or gouge out their eyes on a whim. The ‘brand of Treston’, a deep scar across one’s cheek, with the lower earlobe removed was an all too common phrase bandied about the governor’s house.
But Tanner feared Perk nearly as much, possibly more. Perk always had his way behind these sullied walls. The sergeant left Perk to himself, allowing the man to run the night watch much as he wished. Poisoned food and drink had taken the life of more than one guard who had crossed the man. Perk pretty much remained in the shadows when the sergeant was about. The sergeant preferred it that way.
Tanner shrugged, sweat running down his face, “Tanner doesn’t know what my Lord wants…doesn’t know what to explain.”
Treston flew into a rage, screaming out vile curses. Seizing Tanner by the neck, dragging him into the room and flinging the man against the bars, he demanded, “Explain that to me, you moronic ass!”
Tanner grasped the bars, pulling himself up as he slowly turned to look into Ishtar’s cell. Expecting to see a bloodied corpse on the filthy floor, he was preparing some alibi for his defense. Instead, he gazed upon a beautiful young woman in a silky, satin gown, quietly sitting on a clean pile of straw.
Gasping aloud, Tanner stared in disbelief, his eyes bulging as they filled with terror,
“By the gods! By the gods! I didn’t know! Please! I didn’t know!” He fell to his knees, beseeching the forces of Heaven with tears and incoherent babblings. “Please!
Please! Forgive me!” He wailed, “I didn’t know. No! No! Please! I didn’t know!” He looked up at a very confused Treston, sobbing and weeping, invoking the spirits to forgive him. “I didn’t know! I didn’t know!”
“What is wrong with you, fool?!” Treston backhanded Tanner across the face. “Tell me, what is this all about?!”
Tanner paid no attention to Treston. He continued his laments and woeful outcries.
Treston finally had enough, shouting, “Go bring Perk! I want to him here!”
When the man didn’t move, Treston gave him a hard boot to his side, knocking Tanner to the floor. “Now go get me Perk or I’ll feed you to the lions right now! Tell him I want answers, or you’ll both get it! Go!”
Tanner slowly stood, pulling himself up by the prison bars. He was nearly hysterical, in fear, but not of Treston. Why, his eyes were not even focused on Treston, but on something far more distant. “The gods! The gods!” he cried.
Treston screamed into his face, “I am your god! Now go get Perk, you good for nothing ass-wipe, or you’ll wish you were dead!”
Tanner started to recognize Treston. His pale lips quivered, “I…I’m already dead.”
His face, pallid white and distorted with fear, showed his understanding of Treston’s command. Quailing, he turned and darted toward the passageway to get Perk. The others could hear his incessant pleas and constant blubbering long after he was gone from sight.
Treston turned to the sergeant. “Follow him. The fool’s near cracked.”
Perk was sprawled across his cot, snoring loudly, an empty wine skin lying where he dropped it. Tanner burst into the room crying, “We’re damned! We’re damned! To a Hell of a thousand deaths we’re cast!” He fell on his knees next to Perk’s cot and clutched hold of his shirt, shaking him.
Perk grunted in anger as his eyes popped open. “What the…what the hell!” His eyes began to focus. When he recognized Tanner, he broke into a rage, clutching him by the throat, growling, “You wanna die?! God damned fool! I’ll kill you, myself, for botherin’ me!” He released Tanner and rolled over.
Tanner lunged forward and violently shook Perk, renewing his cries. “The world of damned! The world of damned! That’s ‘ar curse! The world of the damned!” He fell forward and began to weep.
Perk angrily pushed Tanner away and sat up. “Fool! Old woman, waking me that way! I oughta kill ya! What’s in yor head? Shut up your hole and tell me!”
Tanner sat up on his knees, clasped his hands together in front of his face, and wailed, “That girl! That little girl...she’s…she’s a goddess! A goddess, I tell you!”
Lifting his head up and extending his arms heavenward, he cried, “Forgive me, oh you mighty gods! I didn’t know the Hesperides was her home!”
Perk was becoming perplexed. “What’s this about?! Tell me!”
Lowering his arms, Tanner stared at Perk and exclaimed, “Wer goin’ to the Land of the Damned!” He buried his face in his hands and began to weep. “That child is one of the gods! She’s sendin’ us to the world of the damned!”
Perk’s face clouded with fear. “Is she dead?”
Tanner did not reply.
Perk clutched Tanner’s shirt, ripping it, screaming in Tanner’s face, “Is she dead?
Tell me! Is the little bitch dead?! ”
Tanner let out a howl, “Don’t call her that! I tell ya, she’s a goddess! A goddamn goddess! And wer’ dead men! I tell ya! Dead men!”
Perk backhanded Tanner across his face and then threatened him with his fist, “Is she dead, fool! Is she dead? ”
“No! No!” Tanner shook his head, sobbing, “She’s a goddess from the Isles of the Blessed and we’re gonna burn in the Pits of the Damned!”
The sergeant, along with another guard, stepped into the room. “Perk, the old man wants ta see ya… now! And he ain’t happy!” Pointing at Tanner, he added, “And bring that bag o’ shit with ya!” He and the other guard dragged Perk and Tanner from the room and hurried them back down the passageway.
Treston was pacing the floor, muttering to himself. Tanner was running nuts, out of his mind. The girl in the cell stared at the floor, mute as a stone. And Perk? Maybe Perk would provide him with some answers. At the sound of footsteps echoing from the corridor, he smiled and hurried to the doorway.
Confronting Perk, Treston angrily queried, “Is your head also in your ass…” he pointed at Tanner, “like this fool?! Or do you have a mind to tell me what happened here?” He grabbed Perk’s ear and yanked him into the chamber.
Perk was taller than Treston, with a thick, muscular body and a flabby gut. It had been this mass that Perk had used to his advantage, to bully others. Treston paid no heed to it and Perk knew it. The big man cowered before the captain of the guard, knowing full well how valueless his life was in Treston’s eyes.
Treston shoved Perk up against the prison bars, twisting his face in Ishtar’s direction.
He gritted his teeth and hissed in Perk’s ear, “I don’t like secrets and you’re hiding one!
If you want all your body parts, you’d better start talking!”
Perk stared blankly at Ishtar. She was still alive…and able to sit! What was the problem? Gradually, his senses came to him and he began to take in the surroundings. It was too much for this simple man’s mind to comprehend. He was dumbstruck.
Treston exploded, “Enough of this charade! You better give me answers, or I will have someone’s skin!” He squeezed Perk’s neck, shaking him, “And I mean now!”
Perk became nearly as incoherent as Tanner had been, but not invoking the gods. He blubbered on about how he didn’t know anything, that he was sleeping all night, and how good a servant he had been. This did nothing to appease Treston’s growing wrath. He cuffed Perk across the face, making the man’s mouth bleed. “Look at me, you dumb ass!” Treston pressed his face against Perk’s, his suspicions growing. “How much did they pay you?”
A stupid look crossed Perk’s face. “Who?”
Treston screamed curses and vile oaths filled with threats. He finally calmed a little, shouting, “The people you allowed in here last night to dress the girl up!” He glanced into the cell and back at Perk. “She didn’t bring them clothes with her and for certain wasn’t hiding that straw in her ass! Now tell me, who paid you to do this?”
“Nothin’! I mean nobody!” Perk was sweating profusely by now, thinking of something to say that would get him off the hook. He stuttered, “Nothin’! I… I mean…
er… nobody! There weren’t nobody here! Nobody come in here last night!”
“Well…” Treston reached up and squeezed Perk’s face, “somebody dressed the little lady up. It didn’t just happen!” He lowered his voice to just above a whisper and snarled, “If you think you can take a bribe and not share it, you’re too stupid to live, at least as a man. I think it wise for you to ‘fess up, and quick!”
Perk was beginning to panic, beseeching Treston, “My Lord, I don’t know nothin’!
Nothin’ at all! F’rgive me, Lord, I don’t know nothin’!”
Treston grabbed Perk by the ears, slamming him against the cell bars and screamed,
“What did you do, you miserable excuse for life?!”
Perk quailed, but stuck to his tale of ignorance.
Treston turned to the sergeant. “I’ll have you feed his guts to my dogs this very hour if he doesn’t come up with some answers!”
Perk fell to his knees, raising his hands high, seeking mercy. “I don’t know, my Lord! I don’t know nothin’ at all! I ain’t lyin’! Honest, Lord! I ain’t lyin’ at all!”
Treston gave up. “Dumb ass!” He motioned to the guards, and they pulled Perk from the floor. He put his hands on the bars and pressed his face against them. In a soothing, fatherly voice, he asked, “Please child, what happened here? Tell me, please.
It will go much better for all of us if you do.”
Ishtar sat there, staring at the filthy floor, deliberately ignoring Treston. It enraged him to the point that he started screaming and violently shaking the bars. “You little piss-wart! Do you know what I can do to you?”
Ishtar slowly looked up, glaring at Treston, defiance and anger burning in her eyes.
Standing, she stepped closer and contemptuously spat, “What would you do, take the virgin and hole her?” She reached down and picked up her old, torn, filthy tunic, smelling of blood and sexual exhaustion, flinging it at him. “You’re too late!”
Treston reeled like he had been punched and struck dumb. He slowly turned, facing Perk and Tanner, seething with rage. He shook his fist, “Did we have some fun last night? ‘We didn’t do nothin’...” Grabbing the sergeant’s flagellum, he angrily whipped the two men, shouting vile threats and accusations. Then, shaking the spiked end of the handle at them, asked, “Does someone want to start talking now? And no lies this time!”
Tanner started his blubbering, confessing everything, making sure Perk received the blame.
“You shit!” Perk bellowed, punching Tanner in the nose. Blood splattered everywhere as Tanner tumbled back, falling to the floor, screaming in agony. The guards quickly subdued Perk.
Treston was beside himself, furious. He clutched Perk’s face in his hands, digging in with his nails until the blood flowed freely. “You slimy bastard! No good son-of-a-bitch! Why’d you have to go and ruin the girl for me?! Do you think I would follow the likes of a shit like you?!” He cursed and swore until his energy was drained. In disgust, he pushed Perk back and turned away. “I ought to cut your balls off and feed ‘em to Tanner!”
Treston ordered the sergeant to take Perk and Tanner away, calling after them,
“Make sure they’re locked up secure. I’ll deal with them later!” He straightened his uniform, examining it to be sure it had no stains or tears, muttering as he did, “Now to the business at hand…”
Treston turned his attention back to Ishtar. He found it difficult to believe the things Tanner confessed were true. If Perk had really attacked the girl, she would be lucky to still live. He looked at the bloodied tunic. Sure enough, it had been a violent night. And then there was the girl’s implied accusation of rape.
The thought of Perk having touched the child troubled Treston. From the day of Ishtar’s arrest, Treston had dreamed of having her for himself. He came to the prison early this morning on some lame excuse, hoping to secret her away just long enough to take his pleasure with her. Then Perk had to ruin it! But, oh, how good she looked.
“Damn it all!” Treston fumed under his breath. There wasn’t any time now and never would be, if the governor carried out his plans against her.
But what of the clothing and straw? Those questions needed answering, at least enough to satisfy the governor. Treston fought back his growing passion and attempted a charming inquiry, asking, “Please, child, tell me how you got this beautiful gown.”
Ishtar stared down at her hands, pretending to take special interest in them, turning them over to see the fronts and then the backs, appearing to completely ignore the question. But out the corner of her eye she watched, waiting while Treston’s impatience grew. Just as he started to rise on his toes and his lips began to quiver, she spoke. In a tone showing casual disregard for Treston, she nonchalantly answered, “An angel gave it to me…”
Treston was taken aback. Uncertainty and fear of unknown things began growing in his heart. Perk was ruthless and cruel; he was deceitful. But he was not stupid, leastwise about Treston. If someone had bribed Perk to get to Ishtar, he would have offered to buy off Treston’s anger with some of the reward.
And there was the girl. He knew she had been violently raped. Perk would have done it no other way. Rape was a common thing in these prisons. Few women survived more than a week in them from the brutal treatment meted out, and young boys or
effeminate men suffered similarly. That was the reason Treston had threatened such severe punishment to anyone touching Ishtar. He still had half-expected her to be abused.
The blood on the dress must have been Ishtar’s, but there was no visible sign of the violence she received, not even a tiny bruise. How had the girl managed such a transformation? There was one possible answer. Maybe a power baron or official had sent people to examine her. Finding her in such straits, and fearing the wrath of the governor, they hurried her away to be made presentable. Perk would not have dared to mention such a thing if he was ordered to remain silent about matters. Even Treston’s dire threats wouldn’t have pried such information from him.
Treston was troubled. The governor? It made no sense to have the governor request such a thing. After all, the man had not even seen the girl yet. Besides, if such a thing were ordered, Treston would have been the one to carry it out. No. No, it was no one from the governor’s house who did this. Then who did?
Treston motioned the guards. One came forward and unlocked the cell door.
Treston stepped in, a guard entering behind with a brightly lit lamp. Ishtar did not move.
She continued staring down at her hands, half expecting more violence.
Shimmering light cascaded across Ishtar’s shoulders, revealing her near perfect figure hidden only by a semi-sheer garment. The woman was flawless in every way, from the curved bridge of her nose to her rounded hips. Why, even the girl’s dazzling white teeth were as straight as if chiseled by a master sculptor.
“Who are you?” Treston asked with a faltering voice. “For this is not the child I delivered to this place.” His mind began to whirl with stories of gods and goddesses.
The haunting tales of his mother flooded the man’s mind. With a shaking hand, he reached up to touch the girl, but stopped short, fear gripping him. Treston’s heart began to ache, not from passion, at least he thought not. No. It was something new and strange.
Here stood a kind of untouchable divine beauty, something unearthly and above him. He was insignificantly small in comparison to it.
Ishtar reached up suddenly and clasped his hand. “You will take me to my fate, for this day the eagle shall fall from the heavens and the sea shall turn to blood. My hour is near and you, Lord Treston, must deliver me to it. You must bring to ruin my flesh in order to deliver your own.”
Treston was shaken from his trance. He became gruff and defensive. “I am here to deliver you to the governor, for you to answer certain charges brought against you. Do be good and I will see no more harm comes to you in this place.”
Ishtar was curt in rejecting Treston’s words. “Your governor has even now judged me. Can you not already hear the dogs howling for my blood?” She poked Treston with a finger. “In a dream I have seen all things. Your grief is my reward and your savior.
Today your soul dies with me, so that tomorrow it will lift me up, for my God has said of you, ‘His sword shall become a defense for you, a shield and a fortress, too. Against the one who murders you shall he stand with you in the day of darkness.’ ”
Treston was shaken, but put on a bold face. “I serve my governor and king! The gods’ business belongs to scholars and prophets. Should you live or die today is no concern of mine.” He motioned to the guard with the lamp. “We must not keep the governor waiting.”
Ishtar stared at Treston. “I shall forget you in the Field of the Minds. It is my reward.” She shook her head. “But I shall haunt your waking moments. Never will my
spirit depart from you until you know that to the Maker of all things does prophecy belong.”
Not wishing further discussion, Treston hustled Ishtar from the cell.
As they hurried along the passageway toward the palace stairs, Ishtar again grabbed Treston’s hand. “I shall take hold of a serpent and he will keep me safe!” She stared at him in wonder and puzzlement, adding, “For shall one serpent gulp down the many and thus save all living things.” Treston remained silent.
The sounds of their footsteps soon disappeared as they circled the staircase leading from the prison up to the governor’s palace.
* * *
“Gabrielle… Gabrielle...” Sirion gently shook the woman’s shoulder, “it’s time.” As if drifting in some drunken stupor, Gabrielle pushed herself up with her hands. Shaking her head, she muttered something incoherent and slumped back over Darla. Sirion shook the woman’s shoulder again, growing anxious. “I’m sorry, but there is no more time.
Mihai sent me back to tell you that we must go now or it will be too late. The enemy is on the move!”
Gabrielle struggled to sit, more alert this time, but still determined to keep Darla where she was. “I am not finished! I fear she will die if we move her.” She sighed, “I have had too little time to heal the child’s massive injuries. A doctor must have time to finish a cure.”
Darla stirred, laboring to speak, but Gabrielle hushed her. She bent low, close to the girl’s ear and whispered, “Not now, my Dear. Don’t try to talk.” Raising her head and looking around, Gabrielle asked where Mihai was.
Sirion pointed, “We found a good location. Mihai sent me back to tell you to get ready, said she’d be back momentarily, leaving the others to secure the site.”
Gabrielle looked in the direction Sirion indicated and nodded. “Tell me when she’s back.” She returned to her healing song.
Sirion was frustrated and worried. Mihai had impressed upon her the need to move as soon as possible, but Gabrielle wasn’t cooperating. Gabrielle was in command, but Mihai was the newly appointed marshal en force of the army, a position Gabrielle held until recently.
It had been at Mihai’s request that Sirion and Darla were included in this dangerous and very important operation. Gabrielle had protested, feeling there should only be highly trained and experienced personnel on the team. She finally surrendered to Mihai’s opinion after Anna and others on Mihai’s new council assured her of the security measures that had been put in place. She had even accepted responsibility for Darla’s and Sirion’s safety when Lowenah had questioned the validity of taking them along.
Now, with everything in shambles and Darla at death’s door, Sirion did not know who would decide their final destiny. Mihai still leaned heavily on Gabrielle for support and guidance, she being an ancient, mystical witch, and Gabrielle was in charge of this mission. On the other hand, Mihai was accountable for the success or failure of said mission, being its chief architect and having personally chosen the team to execute it.
Sirion said nothing more to Gabrielle, fearing a scathing rebuke. She began to nervously pace, all the while fidgeting, afraid of Mihai’s response for her failure to obey
orders and equally afraid of Gabrielle. The sound of snapping twigs alerted her to Mihai’s return, the woman questioning Sirion with a wondering look. Sirion nervously shrugged and pointed, indicating her attempt to persuade Gabrielle of the need for haste.
Mihai walked over and rested a hand on Gabrielle’s shoulder. “Please, Honey, we have to go.”
Gabrielle did not move, mumbling, “I’m not taking her there. She’s too hurt.”
Mihai’s face went ashen. “You must! The enemy may be upon us at any minute.
We cannot dally! Darla needs to be taken to Ishtar.”
Slowly, Gabrielle sat up, gritting her teeth as she forced strained muscles to obey her will, staring at Mihai, repeating, “The child is too hurt! If we take her, she will die!”
Mihai could not believe her ears, sputtering incredulously, “You can’t mean that! If we don’t take her, she will die anyway! It was her request, and I will honor it!”
Laboring to stand, groaning in discomfort while stretching to get the blood flowing again, gripping Mihai’s arm and pulling her along like a mother with an unruly child, Gabrielle snarled, “Let’s talk!” leading Mihai some distance from the group.
In no mood to play lieutenant to a brattling sister so much her junior, she released Mihai, putting her hands on her hips, glaring into the woman’s eyes, wasting no time mincing words. “Darla is not in any condition to be moved, let alone be taken an hour’s walk and then made to sit for who knows how long. The child has three broken ribs, damaging her lungs, along with a severe brain hemorrhage and two fractured vertebrae in her neck.” She paused for effect before stating her final intentions. “I will not accept responsibility for her death. I am taking her to the ship!”
Mihai was furious. “You have no right to decide her fate! She has made clear her desire. If you prevent her from carrying it out, she will never forgive you, forgive me,”
she poked Gabrielle in the chest with her finger. “…or forgive herself!” then pressed her face close to Gabrielle’s, snorting, “What has been asked of you is not to decide her life or death! You have been requested to channel your power through her to assist Ishtar!”
Gabrielle pushed Mihai away, growling, “This is not a question of feelings! If she dies, we will have accomplished nothing except the loss of a child I could have saved.
That will be too much for my conscience to carry!” Turning away, the woman muttered,
“She is my little sister, too. I promised Mother I would care for her. She would have never allowed the girl on this mission if she had not trusted me with her care.” Spinning around, fists clenched, Gabrielle stood defiant. “I’m taking Darla to the ship!”
Mihai spread her feet and, reaching across her waist, grabbed the hilt of her sword.
“You will have to go through me to do it! If you choose to abandon this mission, we will accept that! But you will not stop us!”
Although shocked and surprised, Gabrielle did not lose her composure and shot back with a fiery retort. “Mihai, do not think yourself my equal! I can cut you down before your sword is drawn! And for what purpose? To feed more blood to this soil? Look, death is what I am trying to prevent!” She began to advance, motioning Mihai away.
“Now stand aside!”
Mihai clenched her sword, her left hand taking hold of its scabbard. “I mean it! This is no threat!”
Gabrielle’s face clouded with anger as she took a battle stance. “Don’t make me…”
Sirion approached unnoticed. Already the girl’s sword was drawn, its radiant green flame dancing along the blade. With tears in her eyes, she cried, “You may kill one of us,
but can you best the both of us?!” brandishing her blade, threatening, “Darla has a right to die for the cause she chooses! My blood shall soak this ground before I will allow you to steal that right!” Tears gushed forth as the girl choked out, “You cannot take away her freedom to pacify your soul! Death’s reaper comes to us all. It chooses who it will take.”
Gabrielle stared in disbelief, glancing first at Sirion and then Mihai. “Are you two insane?! Look! If Ishtar fails her test because it is too great a thing, it will be overlooked. It’s happened before when our mission’s failed. She’s but a child. Her age will give her pardon.” Sirion and Mihai refused to be swaged.
Gabrielle pleaded, clenching her fists in desperation, “It’s not worth Darla’s death!”
as she cast a glance in Darla’s direction, groaning in dismay when she saw Tzidohn and Depais busy assisting Darla onto a litter while Chisamore, having heard the commotion, was hurrying over to give Mihai assistance. “Is the whole world against me?!”
A hand still on her sword pommel, Mihai retorted, “It is not an issue of forgiveness!
Ishtar was promised she would have help! On my soul, never have I failed to carry out a promise! As God lives, I will do this duty! Should it bring death to us all, it is a small price to pay for our success!” Gabrielle protested anew but Mihai stopped her, eyes pleading. “Sister, please listen! I do not believe Darla will survive this ordeal, but I swear, as I live, her blood and mine shall soak this ground together before I allow her to fail! I owe it to her! For God’s sake, I owe it to Ishtar, and you do, too!”
Desperate, Gabrielle searched the camp for someone to offer support, her eyes darting from one face to another. All were as resolute as Mihai and Sirion. She muttered under her breath, “There is no logic to this folly! No one need die!” then cried aloud,
“Mother will understand! She will understand! Look, who’s to say that our girl will not prove herself without our help?! Others have many times!”
No one spoke. Mihai, Sirion and now Chisamore stood a wall against Gabrielle’s protest as others in the camp busied themselves with Darla or preparing to move out.
“What is wrong with you?!” Gabrielle shouted, “This is not an issue of the mind with you! Your hearts tell you tales filled with deceit and trickery! How can you fall prey to such seductive reasonings?! You do not listen with an opened mind! Mihai, do not let your newfound glory go to your head! Think things out!”
Mihai glared, her lips curling in anger, “Should I be a titmouse before an eagle, I would not stand down in this instance! If your heart yearns to regain the glory of marshal en force, it’s yours with my blessing, but I shall not stand aside...even if you were king of the Cherubs!”
Gabrielle was frantic. “A fool falls upon his own sword or threatens the life of a companion and ally! Can you not see the hopeless folly of your actions?! If we depart now, Darla will survive. If she dies, how will I ever face Mother again?! I promised her the child’s safety!”
Releasing her sword, Mihai pointed an accusative finger, “So, the truth is revealed!
It is not your mind that speaks for you, but a heart filled with fear of failure and rejection.
Is your resistance really based on logic of the mind, or have you filtered it on the dregs of emotional fervor, playing Judah’s fiddle to gain food for your heart’s belly?! You are more pitiable than I because I am jealous over my sister’s feelings while you think only of your own!”
“It is not so! I speak only for the child’s…” Gabrielle choked silent as her mind recalled an ancient warning, her thoughts flashing back to a long-forgotten age, beyond
the edge of time, to a mystical planet of fire and ice. With naked flesh, she stood upon the mountain peak, staring into bottomless canyons filled with raging rivers of boiling sulfur and brimstone. As she teetered on the brink of doom, searching for a trail down, her companion and mentor warned, “Your heart is the window through which you see and interpret all things. It will show you what you wish to see, making excuse while it induces you to drink the sweet wine that dulls a wary mind. It ever seeks your well being, encouraging you to take the easy path, but for sinister reasons. If you give ear to it when hope wanes, all that is good will be lost and all that is evil shall overcome you. The easy path, my daughter, is rarely the wise path.”
Her mentor, a prince from the Beginning Days, added, wagging a finger, “Do beware of the heart’s treachery should the darkness overtake your race and the Incubus rises from the smoldering Abyss. It will seek solace from duty, musing that one will succeed avoiding the inevitable, whispering its haunting refrain, ‘be good to yourself, for this calamity need not befall you’. The light you must force because the darkness never wearies.”
But it was her duty to protect her charge… or was it? Gabrielle knew in her mind that statement to be false. Darla was no babe, innocent and unknowing. Many a battle had the child contested in, bloodying and being bloodied. Had Gabrielle been there for her during those moments? No! And had she not volunteered, without Mother’s request, to protect the child on this mission? Yes, it was something new for Darla – but not the dangers accompanying it. Then why was she so adamant about her need to protect the child?
Logic! That was it! Logic! But Gabrielle could find none except that crying from her heart. So carefully she had analyzed the moment, believing it wise to abandon the mission to whatever the Fates permitted. Was that logic or… or was it guilt… guilt at having failed Darla for missing the appointed rendezvous? Was she attempting a way to find absolution for her own failure? Gabrielle’s head spun with doubt and confusion.
Had only the others chosen Fate’s course through the emotions of their hearts, or was her heart also manipulating the moment? That thought alone was tormenting the woman’s mind.
“Well,” Mihai intruded into Gabrielle’s pondering, “do we die as enemies or allies?!”
Gabrielle lowered her head, mourning, “What do I do?! It is better for me to never go home than to return with a dead child who was in my charge! How could I ever face Mother again? Mihai, I have never failed in a promise given to her! It is better you destroy me now than to make me live forever with that torment!”
Mihai’s pent-up tears burst forth as she made rebuttal. “Do you think Darla’s promise less worthy than yours? You…you have the power to choose your own destiny, but that child does not! Indeed, without your assistance, she has little hope of succeeding, yet she will not die alone. If our Mother’s disapproval is all you fear, then go! I command it! Tell her that it was upon my order that you abandoned your charge.
You are absolved of all obligation.”
Mihai’s fiery retort struck like a burning missile. Shocked into seeing her own selfish reasonings, Gabrielle wailed, “Does a dog not return to its master after it is beaten?! My Lord, do not strike your foolish servant again by sending her away! Please allow me a chance to prove my worth.” She stepped forward, arms beseeching as she
pleaded, “If we are to die this day, it will be as one soul, not a house divided. My shame is too great for me to carry alone! Allow me, please, to attempt a healing of our sister, so that she may succeed in helping Ishtar. Here I have wasted so much precious time thinking only of myself. Allow me to make amends.”
Mihai also stepped forward, arms reaching for Gabrielle. In tears, the two women embraced, wailing and moaning as if reunited from death. At length, Gabrielle pushed herself away, taking hold of Mihai’s arms. “Sister, we must go now or be forever late.”
The women turned, slowly making their way back to Darla, Sirion and Chisamore following up closely. In a few minutes, the litter-bearers were ready, Gabrielle quietly talking to Planetee when Chisamore glanced around and called her name. “Your blade still lies in the dust, my Lord. You might need it if trouble is afoot.”
Gabrielle stuttered, “Th…thank you,” while staring down at her empty scabbard.
‘How brave the wolf when it sees no hunter with the flock’. Retrieving it quickly, she hurried assisting Darla. Taking the girl’s hand while gently caressing her forehead, she ordered the litter bearers away. “Be off! Quick now! The Devil is not a patient person.”
* * *
“Your Worship,” The governor politely bowed as the emperor’s magistrate entered the palace throne room. “I pray your sleep was restful and breakfast satisfactory?”
The magistrate angrily began waving his hands in disgust, his shrill, effeminate voice piercing the morning air. “I thought I was bedded in the slaves’ quarters, with all those bugs flying around! Then I was awakened early because of the noise coming from the street! And that god-awful stink that entered through my window last night! I think you should move the fish market. A wise man would.”
Ogust, the great counselor, cousin to the emperor, was never satisfied with anything.
Rumor held that he was, in truth, the emperor’s bastard son, born of a sister barely into her teens. Held ever captive within the palace walls, Ogust grew up tormenting and threatening family and servants with his abuses, both verbal and physical. Finally, in desperation, the emperor assigned the boy – now a young man – to position of magistrate.
It was said that Ogust relished his new job, raising his abusive talents to ever new heights of sadism.
Governor Claudesius was about to respond when Ogust started on breakfast. “I do not know how anyone could become fat on the worm dung served as food in this place!
If this were my home, the cook would have been taken and roasted on a spit and served for supper. He certainly should taste better than the filth he gave us this morning!”
Claudesius felt need to pacify this moronic maggot quickly, or he might find himself being the main attraction at this evening’s celebration. Folding his hands in respect and bowing humbly, he apologized. “I am so very sorry for the great tribulation suffered by my lord this last night. I will make sure matters are corrected this very day.” Glancing up, he observed Ogust’s sour expression. More must be done. “My Lord, the castle is yours, for your pleasure. Tell me, please, whatever chambers you delight in. They are available for your choosing. I will give personal attention to them being arranged comfortably for you. And…” he lifted a hand, shaking a finger, “I will close off the streets near the palace.”
He turned and stared toward the seaport. “As for the fish market, ah, well, it is located near the harbor. I really think it would do little good to shut it down or move it.
I’ve tried…” he lied. “You see, much of the stink comes from the rotting things in the river itself. I can go to the temple and invoke the gods to change the breeze, but other than that, I am helpless to do a thing.”
Ogust still frowned.
“And…and I will deliver several more servants into your hands this night, so that you might have the bugs fanned away.”
Rubbing his fat chin with a chubby hand, Ogust mulled over the governor’s offers.
He soon smiled, making a condescending reply. “Invoking the gods might serve us well.
After all, I know there are some things we must leave in their hands. Make sure you see to it.” Claudesius nodded, saying he would.
As his eyes flitted about the chamber, thinking of the coming eve, Ogust mused, “I will scour the palace today in search of better accommodations…possibly yours will do.
We will see. We will see.” He took a few steps, stopped, twisting his head around until he faced the governor, threatening as he curled his lips in disgust, “I do want those servants! And don’t give me any tit-hangers! Boys…healthy, young boys, understand?!”
Claudesius breathed a sigh of relief. “Very well, Your Worship. It will be my pleasure.” Seeking to secure the magistrate’s approval, he returned to the morning’s breakfast. “I am so disappointed that your meal was unpalatable. If you choose, I will prepare roasted cook for your evening’s enjoyment, but…” He tapped his finger on a nearby table.
“But what?!” Ogust cried, shivering in anticipation. “But what?!” The man’s fat face and bulging eyes made Claudesius sick to his stomach. How much more he would enjoy roasting him for supper. ‘No oven wide enough!’ he thought, looking at Ogust’s triple chins and bloated belly. Drumming his fingers, Claudesius lingered with his tease until he dare not risk it any longer. Then, drawing his words out, he slowly began to inform Ogust of the evening’s festivities.
“Tonight, after the day’s circus, Ephesus is to come alight with celebration over the demise of our great antagonists who have insisted on defaming Artemis and our other great gods. Several of these blasphemers have been rounded up and are locked securely in our prisons. If you wish, they can be our guests tonight, to help us illuminate our courtyards in glory.”
Rocking back and forth on his heels and grinning, Ogust rubbed his hands in delight, asking, “You do have tit-hangers, too…big-titted tit-hangers? Oh, I do so much love to see them burn!”
Trying to cover his shock, Claudesius forced himself to answer nonchalantly, “I am sure there are women among them. As for your big-titted ones, I will have to investigate.”
Ogust clapped his hands with glee. “They are so beautiful! So beautiful when their oiled hair shoots up in showers of flame! Oh, it is such a beautiful thing!” He drooled spittle, commenting in orgasmic delight, “And their screams…long, chilling screams!”
Shaking a finger, he warned, “You must keep the fire clear of their faces…clear, so they can give us a longer show. Mustn’t kill them too soon…not too soon. Ogust began to strut, one hand on his hip while waving the other, describing with relish one of his most
choice visions. “I must tell you the truth, a tit-flame is the most beautiful thing a man can witness. Have you ever seen a tit-flame?”
Claudesius shook his head.
Surprised, Ogust replied, “Well, I will have to show you one this very night. Do, please, find me a big-titted one…a young, big-titted one. First, what you do is cut a long wick from a linen garment, then wind it round and round the titty, tying the end securely around the titty’s nipple. Now the fun begins. Take a mixture of hot tar and wax and paint it thick on the titty. Oh, the excitement! Their screams from the blistering burns so entertaining!
“But you must remember, tie their hands to an upper post or they will try to scrape the burning tar away or worse, they may become faint and fall down. If they are hanging, you can continue at your pleasure. Do this earlier in the day, say the early evening, before the sun sets behind the hills, then you can have added sport for you and your guests. And they will be delighted, I promise you.
“After the tar-wax is at least finger thick, allow it to cool. Now give your tit-hanger out for sport. Dogs or prison slaves will do quite well, quite well. Don’t worry. The tar cannot be damaged by their gaming. It won’t crack or come loose.
“When finished with your sport, take the tit-hanger, tying its arms to a cross-post.
Now pull its hair back, knotting it through a heavy weight. This prevents the tit-hanger from breathing the smoke. We don’t want to ruin the show by having it die on us.”
Ogust clapped his hands. “If you do it right, you can keep the titties aflame throughout the night, the creature sharing in the festivities with its passionate cries.”
Claudesius smiled weakly. He thought about his own wife, Gloria, and teenage daughter. Both women were buxom. What fun would Ogust have with them?
Suppressing his disdain, he casually replied, “Yes, yes, your Worship, we will have some women there this eve. I will personally search to find some large-breasted ones for you.”
“Wonderful! Wonderful!” Ogust cried in delight, as he squinted, eyeing the governor. “You will also have some little darlings there, too, won’t you? Innocent little children are so much fun at a party. They do so make a celebration come to life.”
Quietly nodding then quickly changing the subject, Claudesius asked, “Could your humble servant interest my lord in a goblet of excellent wine? It is extra sweet, being slowly boiled many days in huge lead pots.”
Ogust blushed at the governor’s offer. “You are such a generous man, which surprises me greatly. After all, I see that you appear to be happily married and have adorable boys. Few men having that weakness are as considerate and caring of others as you.”
“You are too kind, Your Worship.” Claudesius smiled, knowing that Ogust dismissed his daughter as nothing more than a tit-hanger. Better to leave it there, for her sake. He ordered a servant to fetch some wine. Offering the magistrate a chair, he also sat, suggesting, “While we wait for the wine, may I inform you about the day’s events?
There is a young creature you might find interest in and, if she survives the day, you may well delight in practicing your magic on her. I am told she is quite shapely and a virgin, too.”
Ogust clapped his hands, relishing the thought, rolling his eyes as he lifted his head, envisioning his magic being practiced on such a sweet thing. He leaned back with a tired
grunt and then asked excitedly, “What of the circus?! What have you arranged for my pleasure this day?”
Claudesius stood, slowly pacing the floor as he detailed the day’s activities. While it was true that Ogust gasped, cried, and crooned with joy and anticipation over the things he was hearing, making the governor cringe in disgust at times, Claudesius did like listening to his own echoes of the violence and mayhem offered by the arena. When he arrived at some particularly gruesome part of the story, his arms would flail descriptively while his face beamed with excitement.
Saving the best for last, he finally came to the part Symeon and the girl were to play.
At that moment, a servant arrived with more wine which Ogust greedily gulped down.
Pausing with his tale, Claudesius kindly cautioned, “My Lord, the day is young and you would not want to miss any of the fun prepared for you, would you?”
Ogust’s eyes flashed contempt as he closed his lips in an angry pout, studying the governor closely, wine dribbling from the sides of his mouth. Finally, placing the empty goblet in the servant’s hand, he coolly replied, “Yes, yes, you’re right. There are too many things afoot this day that I wish not to miss. I am sure your concern was only for my welfare, Governor.”
“Your great and lofty Worship…” Claudesius humbly clasped his hands and made a polite bow, “though our years differ widely in age, I perceive your wisdom is of far greater wealth than mine. You see things from on high, while my tongue speaks only in the ways of lowly men.” The governor glanced up at Ogust. The man’s eyes were slowly losing their angry edge. ‘Good! Good! A little more of this horse dung and the fat ogre should be pacified.
Opening his arms wide, Claudesius begged the magistrate’s pardon, explaining, “A child can see only through the eyes of a child. I, the child, could see only the wonders of the day. Wishing that my most distinguished guest might enjoy it to the full, I, through my childlike eyes, offered advice to you as only a child could. Your insight is far beyond my humble abilities. After all, the blood of the gods flows in your veins.”
He reached out with his hand in a gesture of humility, “Please forgive the child who has spoken so brashly,” then motioned for the servant to hurry with more wine. “Your Lordship, wine is best if kept on the dregs, and I have obtained some of the finest aged this way from the forbidden northland vineyards. Far beyond our territories was it grown, my Lord. At great risk was it delivered into my hands and… and…”
“Yes?! And?!” Ogust’s eyes were bulging with bated expectation.
“And…” Claudesius pointed a finger into the air, smiling, “and among the treasure there remains a sealed keg, small enough for you to take along with you when your journey begins anew from this place, that is,” he quickly added, “if you enjoy it enough to wish to do so. My servant is getting some for you as I speak.”
Ogust hooted, happily clapping his hands, “Oh, so wonderful! So wonderful! I know you spoke foolishly because you did not understand. That is so good! So good! It is so important that you are my friend.”
Claudesius smiled again and bowed. Pigs and swill. Fill their gullet and they’ll always grunt with delight. Easing down into an engraved, teakwood, high-backed chair, the governor offered to continue his tale of the day’s events. “As I have mentioned earlier, there exists a certain Symeon in my custody, who is both an enemy of the state and a rabble rouser. He has filled this city…the entire world with his blasphemy, saying
that our great gods are but contrivances of men. He tells all the people that there is but one true God, the Maker of all things.”
Frowning, Claudesius shook his head. “Not only do his followers preach that this God must alone be worshipped, they no longer offer up sacrifice to the great Artemis, refusing to pay the temple duty charged upon all the good people of this city.” He leaned forward. “My Lord, I have tried, through every kind act possible, to silence these people.
They will not and, with Symeon, their leader’s arrival, they have become very troublesome.”
Ogust leaned forward, squinting. “I have heard of this Symeon. There are others!
Paul and a ‘John’ fellow and a brother, I believe. I’ve heard my mother speak of him. At least he’s not around to bother us...did right by hanging him up. So, tell me, why haven’t you hung this Symeon and gotten rid of him, too?”
Leaning back in his chair, Claudesius began to drum its arm with his fingers. “I have studied this strange sect, my Lord, and have discovered that death and torture does nothing but encourage its followers to become more delinquent in their obedient service to our emperor. If one is executed for his vile conduct, twelve more will stand up to take his place. No. No, my Lord,” he pointed at his heart, “we must destroy them here. Then they will lose their will to remain in this crazy religion.” Watching the breeze upon the billowing curtains, he grinned, “Symeon shall be the tool used to accomplish this. Today he will deny his God.”
Ogust scoffed, “You have enjoyed too much of your own wine! Symeon is of the old house, one of the twelve. He will not crack. Should he face a thousand spears, he will not surrender his soul to you.”
“So right, your Worship, so right.” Claudesius grinned again. “But should his heart fall into despair over the loss of the one person he does love? Well, I do have to wonder.”
Shaking his head, Ogust argued, “Only the threat to a wife or child could have such power, yet this Symeon is a man alone, often little more than a shadow, flitting about in secret, first here and then there.”
Claudesius stood, closely watching Ogust’s eyes, waiting for just the right moment to speak. Then, just before the magistrate cried out to know the governor’s little secret, he revealed, “There is one whom Symeon loves more than life itself and the gods have delivered her into our hands. In this very city the child lives. She carries the name of our most precious goddess and yet dishonors that name by her own mouth. Not every worshiper of this strange new sect is as true of heart as you might expect. Some can be bought quite cheaply. Others might take more persuasion, but enough come around. We find out what we need.
“This girl – Ishtar is her name – resides as a guest in my prison. Today she will pay a social visit upon a very surprised Symeon, as he stands to defend his faith before a number of this sect’s leaders that we also managed to round up. No man lives who will surrender a virgin child up to the execution dogs of Ephesus… at least no man with a soul, especially if it his own niece, one whom he calls ‘daughter’.”
“What if he doesn’t recant his beliefs and deny his god?” Ogust asked. “Will his cult of followers not become emboldened?”
“I highly doubt the man will surrender his child to the dogs.” The governor flicked some lint from his robe. “Even if he does, the death heaped upon the girl will be slow
and gruesome enough to dissuade others from joining with them. We will keep their leaders in prison where they will languish, death coming slowly, Symeon included. With no more direction and with the fear that they, too, may suffer the same demise as the girl should they decide to continue such folly, this ulcer of miscreants will soon fade away.”
“And if Symeon recants?” Eager anticipation was growing in Ogust’s eyes. “And if he recants?”
“Then,” Claudesius spoke nonchalantly, “you will have opportunity to listen to the child’s sweet songs as she lights the evening’s festivities.” An exciting chill raced down the governor’s back as he envisioned coming events, thinking of the child being torn apart by dogs or seeing her burning in agony. It was as though a power within was stoking the flames of passion in his heart, crying out for him to carry out its will, he being rewarded with even greater ecstasy of emotion than he could normally achieve watching the circus.
A shrill, effeminate, voice of someone calling out the magistrate’s name shattered the governor’s sadistic visions. “Ogust?! Ogust?!” Out of the shadows, emerging from the bowels of the palace, strolled a young man, his lacy, silk chiton revealing far more of the person’s appearance than Claudesius wished to see. Stopping upon spying Ogust, he called out cheerfully, “Oh, there you are. I had wondered if I’d find you alone or not.”
He turned to gaze at the governor and then back to Ogust. “I guess you are.”
Ogust’s face lit up in delight as he jumped from his chair, arms outstretched, and hurriedly waddled forward. “Jusslin! Oh, has my Jusslin slept well!? I wished not to wake my little beauty this morning. You looked so peaceful, so peaceful and pretty.”
Jusslin waited impatiently for Ogust, a hand resting on a slowly swaying hip. After an affectionate hug, he carried on about how disappointing the morning had been. He went on about all the privations suffered since their arrival in the city, occasionally eyeing the governor with an accusative stare. Eventually, Jusslin arrived at what was most annoying.
Lifting a limp hand and pointing, he sputtered, “They fetched girls to care for my bath! Little bitch girls! Can you imagine that?! Well! I had to make a fuss! The slaves in this household…” he shook his head, “they have much to learn about attentiveness to their duties. Well, they finally brought two boys to assist me, but they were scrawny, sallow, dark-skinned creatures more fit for the stables than a noble’s house! What, are there no pale, full-fleshed, blond children to be found here, anywhere?”
Ogust frowned as he eyed the governor. Not wanting to face another bout with him, Claudesius bowed in apology, a remorseful expression on his face. “My Lords, my heart fills with great sadness regarding the terrible ordeal my ignorance of your needs has heaped upon you. This land is very foreign to your refined culture, it being filled with the refuse of inferior people made our slaves so long ago.
“It has been over twenty years since my eyes have seen Herculaneum, the home of my birth, and many more than that when I walked the stairs leading to the emperor’s palace in Rome. Old men tend to forget what the good life is like after being lost so many years in these recesses of iniquity, as this rabble makes this land.” He lifted his eyes toward the ceiling. “Ah, but the willing sacrifices one makes to preserve our empire.”
Claudesius now addressed Jusslin’s complaints. “I assure you, now that I am aware of your needs, I shall personally see to making the remainder of your stay here as
pleasant as the gods will allow. It is a dark-skinned race that thrives in this despicable place, but I believe I can find you more desirable servants. I will send out my guard to search for some attractive, full-fleshed, blond boys. They will be arrived here this eve, to serve your wishes as you see fit.”
Stroking Jusslin’s face like one does a wounded puppy, Ogust softly warned, “I certainly hope our day goes better than the morning.” He glanced menacingly at Claudesius and then turned his attentions back to Jusslin. “I have been in such a fair mood today, despite all our misfortune. I don’t wish to become troubled in my spirit so that my mood is ruined. You do know what I mean, don’t you, my dear Governor?”
Ogust’s threatening tone carried chillingly cold on his words, implying that his patience was near an end. Claudesius was beginning to feel his efforts at appeasement would not be successful. Maybe Ogust had been sent to depose him. It was a common practice of the emperor to do such things, especially if he had another person, friend or relative, someone due a favor who was in need of a political position. If that was the case, there was nothing he could do. An official magistrate of the emperor wielded the same power that the emperor would, should he be present.
Claudesius could be dismissed from his position at the whim of the magistrate, with no provision for appeal. Indeed, an appeal was usually impossible, given that the one deposed was often executed after being accused of some treasonous act. Before a lengthy torture and humiliating death, the offender’s family would be subjected to degrading indignities including rape, torture, brutalization, and other select forms of punishment which usually led to the death of the victims. The governor shuddered, thinking of the games Ogust would surely prepare for his family, especially now that he saw how great the man’s hatred was for women and his fondness for blond-haired boys.
But...but if this was just Ogust’s way of demonstrating his authority? Claudesius offered a polite bow, folding his hands together in respect. “My Lord, oh great magistrate of the emperor, your day will certainly be most joyous! As I have mentioned, there will shortly arrive here the girl I have spoken about, Symeon’s niece. If you wish to start your festivities early, I am sure she can make you fine sport. What you desire to do with her… well… that is totally up to you. As I have informed your eminence, it is hoped to use her to bring down the evil house, should she still live by your kindness.”
Jusslin whined, patting Ogust’s hand, “Why must we suffer the bitch-dog at all? I have had my fill of those creatures already this day.” He stroked Ogust’s arm, cooing, “I think her uncle a much more worthy prize, even if he is an old man.”
Ogust affectionately squeezed Jusslin’s arm. “My Dear One, it is part of the tribulations that we officers of the court must face. At times, the law makes demands upon us that are most troublesome. It is at those times that we must rise to the occasion and make the sacrifices needed, for all the good people of the land. Besides, knowing a criminal of the state has been fairly judged before being thrown to the beasts satisfies the soul and conscience that justice has been served.”
“Oh, I suppose you’re right,” groaned Jusslin. “But must we remain here while the governor interrogates the creature? Do we really need to see its flesh stripped bare and worked like one does a beast? There are other things I’d rather be doing.” He gazed longingly into Ogust’s eyes.
Claudesius politely interrupted, “The subject of this coming interrogation is young of years, and inexperienced in the ways of wicked craftiness and shrewdness. Your
outstanding knowledge and wisdom, though much appreciated, this case being as simple as it should be, may not be necessitated. May I suggest that you, my Lord Ogust, and your distinguished statesman, Jusslin, remain here until the girl is delivered to us and then you decide for yourselves how we proceed with this case.”
After pondering the governor’s suggestion in his mind, Ogust smiled, “That will suit us well. We will decide the matter for ourselves. If the case is worthy of our time, then we shall stay. But if it is of little concern, well, we will allow you to decide.”
Jusslin was quick to add, “Being a bitch-dog that will stand on trial, I doubt it shall take us many moments to conclude if we should waste our time on such trivia. Your offer to us is a wise one.”
The discussion was interrupted when a house guard entered the room, saluting by sweeping his arm across his chest and snapping it back to his side after which he stood silently at attention, waiting to be recognized. Claudesius excused himself and walked over to the guard who quietly spoke in the governor’s ear.
After sending the guard away, he returned to Ogust and Jusslin. “I have a minor issue that needs tending to before our interrogation begins. Permit me, please, a few moments to set those things in order. In the meantime, my servants will entertain you with some delightful music and magic tricks. There are also more fine wines and delicious fruits and cheeses to tease your palates.”
After receiving nodded approval to leave, Claudesius quickly departed the governor’s chamber and hurried through the palace until reaching its southernmost opened portico. Treston met him there, saluting and then bowing in respect. Claudesius was in no mood for games, growling, “I’m sitting the Devil’s playpen this morning and can’t afford to let his children out of my sight! You’d better have good reason to call me away, or I might just offer you up to them for something to play with, to take their minds off me.”
“My Lord...” Treston bowed again. He spoke calmly and quietly, but the concern on his face could not be hidden, nor his continual glancing around as if they were being watched. “My Lord, I have a matter of grave concern that I felt you needed to be made aware of before I delivered the girl into your hands.”
“You haven’t killed her, have you?!” the governor angrily responded. “I need the little tramp alive and walking! If she’s dead, I’ll dress you up like a woman and feed you to the dogs today!”
Treston shook his head, replying in a hushed voice, “No! No, my Lord, the girl is…
is…fine, my Lord. It’s…it’s just that I believed you would want to know what I discovered when I went to fetch her. There are fingers in the pudding, if you know what I mean, fingers hidden in dark secrets. I felt you needed to be made aware of the matter and not be taken by surprise.”
Taking his cue from his lieutenant, Claudesius lowered his voice, demanding, “Tell me then, what is the story you wish to feed me?”
Treston was a most trusted officer of the governor. He had served as captain over Claudesius’ personal bodyguard for over ten years and knew better than to ever lie or twist the truth. More than one servant in the governor’s household had discovered the hard way that it was far better to suffer the flagellum’s biting talons by truthfully speaking of one’s foolishness than to hide behind lie’s curtain only to become the night’s entertainment for the governor’s lions.
“My Lord, I had many duties that carried me late into the night. So I arrived as early as may be to the prison this morning, to make sure everything was in order so that the girl could be promptly delivered to you and in respectable condition.”
“You wanted to hole her, you!” Claudesius ridiculed. “You’d hole a hanging sow, given half a chance. Don’t tell me different!”
Treston made no attempt at defending himself. Scant were the servants and common people in the palace’s district who didn’t know the man’s reputation or had not experienced or witnessed some form of his licentious activity. Few of the younger slave women had not been bent across the table by him, the common locals having fared little better. There were also times when the wine was upon him and there were no sweet things available he would turn his attention to some charming young lad.
“My Lord,” he softly replied, “even if that had been my intent, I wouldn’t have hurt the girl. I know just how important she is to you…to be alive and healthy, I mean.”
“Then what are you about?” Claudesius demanded impatiently. “Tell me so I can finish this and be about other business!”
“My Lord…” Treston quickly went on to explain about the surprises he encountered in the prison that morning, emphasizing his diligence in attempting to collect the facts and the uncooperative actions of the prison keepers. “The two night wardens, having been of no help, are locked up awaiting further questioning, but I think they will have little information to offer. One appears to have swallowed too much gall and gone out of his mind. The other?” Treston slowly shook his head, “I doubt he’ll give up his secrets to any but the Reaper after crossing over the River. I needed to hurry the girl here for her examination, so had no time to pursue the matter any further.”
“You say she’s not dead or badly damaged?” Claudesius’ face was grave, thinking of his personal wellbeing. “You know how I placed my trust in your ability to keep her safe.”
“Oh no, my Lord!” For the first time the governor saw a glint of fear in Treston’s eyes. “The girl is fine, no, more than fine, like lilacs in the full blossom of spring or like…” Treston’s voice trailed off in thought.
“Like what?! Like what?!” Claudesius nearly shouted. “Like what?!”
Treston answered just above a whisper, “Like the summer goddess just risen from the jasmine fields of D’arth.”
“Has the river fever overtaken you?!” the governor mocked, not bothering to keep his voice down.
Treston snapped to. “No, my Lord! It’s just that I…well I’ve never before been unable to explain what happened to someone in my charge. And the gown she wears, my Lord, it’s as if someone…or some ones came into the prison last night and prepared this girl for her meeting with you today. And I know for certain that at least one man was in her cell with her and was violent with her, too. But there isn’t a mark or blemish to be seen on her at all.”
Troubled and curious, Claudesius asked, “What of the girl? Did you question her?”
“Only with words, my Lord, only with words.” A look of fear flashed from his eyes again, and quickly faded. “All she would say was that an angel visited her in the night.”
Regaining his composure, he added with suspicion, “I feel someone was bribed or threatened to let visitors in, but I can find no proof yet. That is part of the reason the night guards still live and have not been executed for falling asleep at their posts.”
Resting his hand on Treston’s shoulder, Claudesius pondered the moment, finally nodding, “You have done well, Captain, once again showing my wisdom in choosing you to be in charge of my house. I, too, may wish to question these men you speak of. But as long as the girl is saved harmless, I think it better to not make a big fuss over this. After all, with patience and long-suffering, your ear may well hear loose lips that will reveal many secrets. Then we will know for sure.”
The governor did not mention his own unease. After all, he did have enemies, many of whom would be more than willing to assist him to an early grave. Might this be some plot of an opponent to spoil his great plans of bringing to ruin this new religion? If Ogust watched him fail after all the brags made this morning, would he and his family survive the night? Smiling, he quietly asked, “Where is this child of controversy? Take me to her so that I may judge for myself the good and bad of the matter.”
“In the shadows of the dungeon gate, my Lord. Follow me.” Treston turned, the governor staying close.
As the two men neared the upper entrance of the palace prison, Treston motioned for his soldiers to fetch Ishtar. When they came forward, the bright morning sun revealed the young woman in all her radiance. Treston stopped, staring in disbelief at the beauty standing before him, having only seen her in the light of the torches.
Nearly crashing into Treston, Claudesius huffed with disgust, “Be off with your foolishness!” Stepping around and forward, the governor found himself face to face with the girl, crying out with a gasp, clutching his heart as it painfully rent itself within his chest. Like a man caught in a witch’s spell, Claudesius froze, unable to move.
* * *
Sirion had just rejoined the party carrying Darla. Out of breath, she conveyed Mihai’s orders to Gabrielle. “It’s been recommended we take shelter near that outcropping of rocks, giving us some protection from the countless eyes searching for our whereabouts.”
Frowning, Gabrielle disagreed, “That copse of trees in the distance will suit our needs much better. I can sense the energy being stronger there. Darla is very weak. The nearer we draw to a cosmic portal with the Lower Realms, the greater our chances of success. This place is far too far away.”
Remaining respectful but determined, Sirion argued against such a move. “The leeches are gathering to the blood-feast! Mihai says she has never seen such a huge crowd of these miscreants collected together other than in war. She feels that Legion, himself, is here. And that means his private army is here, too.”
Tzidohn, helping with Darla’s litter, agreed. “Yep, I’ve heard that since the kataschesis-aulos has been improved upon, making it easy to control a human’s mind, a vast number of Pseudes have made pilgrimages to the Second Realm to prey upon those innocent and reckless of heart. But if Legion’s really there, something else’s afoot.”
Gabrielle informed them, “The reason for our mission... When it was learned that Legion planned to break Symeon in order to bring down Mihai’s house, we immediately took counter-measures. Now, well I don’t know if we shall attain success.”
“We needn’t fear, Sister,” Depais chimed in. “It’s our effort that matters most.
Should the universe burn in flames and yet we have held true to all that is good, our
mother will have a report to make against Asotos’ lies, and the world will again be made right.”
Casting a glance toward the outcropping, Gabrielle sighed, “Then let us choose death over there, by those rocks. At least we may affect the moment, and that just might change the course of battle.” She lamented, “It is ever the dream of the sun to chase forever away the shadow, but the shadow will out when the bitter night arrives too soon .
Let us hope the bitter night is delayed today.”
They struggled over broken ground covered in jagged boulders and twisted thorn-berry shrubs until coming to the low rock face. Telling the party to stop, Gabrielle looked around. “Guess this’ll have to do. There’s good cover to the west and north, and those trees to the south are thick enough to hide us.” She glanced east, staring into the distance, seeing little protection other than the giant rocks strewn across the valley then pointed, “If trouble arrives, it’ll come from there first. We’ll need to stay low to keep out of sight.”
After placing the litter on the ground, Gabrielle sent Periste to report to Mihai and asked Sirion’s assistance with Darla while having the others set up a perimeter around the camp. When finished giving directions, she and Sirion busied themselves with the task at hand. As soon as blankets had been laid on the ground they, along with Tzidohn, transferred Darla off the litter and onto the blankets.
Gabrielle smiled down at Darla. “There, my lovely one, you just relax and I’ll crawl over top of you, and we can get started.”
Darla shook her head, drawing Gabrielle’s face close to hers.
Gabrielle frowned, “You’re far too weak! We must try it this other way.”
Darla persisted with her request. Finally, grudgingly, Gabrielle relented. “All right, but for only as long as I permit.”
Nodding, Darla pulled on Gabrielle, and with Sirion’s help sat, bending her knees up while spreading her legs. Gabrielle wiggled down to the ground until sitting, slithered up to Darla, spreading her legs and locking them around and behind the girl’s torso. When she had finished, Darla, suffering a great deal of pain in the process, did the same with Gabrielle.
Sirion unzipped Gabrielle’s flight suit, pulling it off her shoulders and down to the woman’s hips. “There,” she smiled, “let me cover you with a blanket so you don’t catch a chill.”
Gabrielle turned to Sirion, the look in her eyes apologizing for her earlier harshness.
Sirion said nothing, unrolled another blanket and gently draped it over Gabrielle’s shoulders. When finished, she settled down behind Darla, pressing herself close, so that Darla could rest her back against Sirion.
Darla swooned in pain, adjusting her body to this new, cramped position. She wiggled her back into Sirion’s chest and worked her head until the neck brace fit better then mumbled her readiness.
“Good!” Gabrielle grinned, her eyes belying a troubled heart. “We shall begin.”
Reaching out with naked arms, Darla and Gabrielle locked them together, hands grasping each other’s elbows, leaning forward until their faces almost touched.
Looking into Darla’s eyes, Gabrielle considered the moment. There would be no more conversation until this trial passed. ‘If the child dies during it…’ Gabrielle smiled.
“You are the bravest woman I have ever known. No matter what this day brings, it will remain one of honor for you and all that you have done. I love you.”
Darla smiled back. They closed their eyes, reaching out to the surrounding harmonics, seeking its bonding powers. Gabrielle strained to find Darla’s thoughts.
Gradually, a fuzzy picture began to grow in her mind. In a few moments, she could see a woman’s face as it entered into the bright sunlight of morning. At that, she started a low guttural tune, pushing the notes up and through her nasal passages. Soon Gabrielle and Darla were mated in a binding trance, lost to the world surrounding them.
Mihai was lying on her belly in the ashen dirt, watching from behind a charred tree stump overlooking a volcanic wasteland in the valley below. Long lines of enemy Pseudes were making their way from the landing depots to the cosmic arena, a built up area nearest an opened energy field that permitted them easy access to the gathering crowds in the city below.
Startled, Mihai jumped at the sound of someone approaching. Periste, crawling through the thorny underbrush, let out a muffled cry when she drove her elbow into a woody brier. She looked up to see Mihai scowling, staring at her through much relieved eyes. Quickly, she slithered up beside her.
Studying the moving throng, Periste quietly let out, “Phew! I haven’t seen so many Pseudes in this realm since the Greco-Maccabean Wars. Can they just be here for the one reason, to watch Symeon recant his faith?”
(Author’s note: ‘Pseudes’ was the name given to the followers of Asotos by the loyal children of Lowenah who joined together to form the Children’s Empire. The name was derived from ‘Pseudin-Posades’, meaning ‘false witness’ and/or ‘liar’, and later gained the added meaning, ‘to make oneself an apostate through fornication (lusting with falsehood for something to which one has no right)'.
By Ishtar’s day, Asotos’ followers had elevated the use of mind control over earthly men to an art. By use of newly refined and contrived machines, the common Pseudes was able to take limited control over the minds of ignorant and/or willing men, thus causing them to act in ways so subhuman and demonic that later historians came to write with disgust concerning that particular generation of men.
The Pseudes also developed machines that could greatly enhance pain and panic in chosen victims. Through implantation, they could feel the emotions and fear racing through these persons as they suffered any torments being heaped upon them. This was the reason they gathered together above the arenas of Greece and Rome, to not only watch the slaughter but to feel the thrill of terror and agony of the people in contest and to revel in the bloodlust of the crowd.
For these truly corrupted servants of Asotos – for not all of his followers sank into this eternal abyss – there were no feelings of love remaining within. All emotion, then, had to derive from sordid means, or there was no emotion at all to be had.
The main reason for Perk’s violent rape of Ishtar was to implant thousands of the Pseudes’ malicious bugs into the girl. These devices would have heightened Ishtar’s personal fear and agony, but also made it possible for anyone tuned in to the harmonic frequency of the bugs to feel, along with her, the child’s tribulations. Legion, himself,
had perpetrated this deed, part of his reason for hating Darla so, for when she purified Ishtar, healing her, all of Legion’s efforts came to naught. )
“Here,” Mihai whispered, handing Periste her vision/listening machine, “see for yourself into the world of Hell and damnation.”
Placing the headpiece over her temples, Periste worked the tiny lever on the handheld control, scanning surroundings in Ephesus. Eventually she found the frequency that allowed her to focus in on Ishtar. At length she pulled the headset back, whispering, concerned, “I thought Mother’s directions were to only remove Legion’s machines from Ishtar, her healing only enough to prevent death so as to receive pity from her tormentors.
Here Darla has made the child perfect in flesh, almost as much so as we are. Had she made her a little more so, the girl would have become a weapon of destruction, her beauty rupturing the very hearts of lowly men.”
Mihai agreed.
“And did you see the dress?” Periste put the headset back in place. “She was not to leave the unearthly garment with the girl. Nowhere in that realm does such a thing exist.
Magic it may well be perceived by those creatures, possibly lifting the girl up to godship.”
Glancing away from the crowds below, Mihai replied, “Don’t cast blame on Darla.
This was her first clandestine mission, one in which she was to have received guidance.
We failed in providing promised support, not only endangering the girl’s life, but possibly altering the history of men. Whether it was by mistake or intention, Darla’s actions must now be taken into account. We must work with what we have. It may be the governor will now take pity on his own heart, seeking some way to preserve such a ravenous beauty from the jaws of death.”
Mihai was offered her headset, but motioned it away. “The power of this ring allows me limited vision of current goings on. You use them for whatever needs you may find.
I desire to watch the enemy in the valley. Some of Legion’s personal guards have passed this way, maybe in search of us. You, too, keep a sharp eye out for them.”
Periste replaced the headset, adjusting it to fit. She crawled forward enough to watch the gathering crowds, then settled down to see other events. Motionless, she and Mihai watched the world above and beneath. As the Pseudes continued to collect themselves, the test of Ishtar slowly unfolded within the palace walls. With bated breath, the women waited to see what the outcome would be.
* * *
The burning ache in Claudesius’ chest was diminishing as the group walked along the palace portico, but his recent shortness of breath persisted. The governor never did fully recover from this initial contact with Ishtar. Taken by surprise at seeing the girl and being an older man, his heart was sorely stricken, which led to his eventual death. Try as hard as he might, he could not stop staring agog at this spellbinding creature. But what disturbed him most was the feeling as if a voice within continually called out for him to
‘tear apart the flesh of this putrid thing’ and burn it with fire.
Treston maintained a reserved appearance, though his ardor was intense enough so the arteries in his neck bulged. Having survived so long amid political vultures was no
accident, but taught behavior. This learned self-control made it easier for the man to restrain his emotions. There were also no quiet voices urging him on to carry out lascivious or violent acts against Ishtar.
Never had Treston been a man having great reverence for or fear of the gods. He had not set foot in a temple in years other than to find certain sensual gratification or at the behest of his superiors. In fact, after the untimely death of his daughter, Treston had silently warred with the gods, condemning them in his heart for their wicked acts. Once, when the wine loosened his lips, he declared to a companion, “The keepers of Hell shall not my soul peacefully abide, for I will not accept them as a slave does his master! Their prisoner I may well become, but do their bidding? Never! My voice shall castigate the gods for all eternity!” With such a strong-willed man, Legion’s machines had little effect.
Of the guards accompanying them? A motion of Treston and one sharp glance was enough to keep them under control. Better to die from wanton desire than at the hand of a man known to watch prison inquisitions while eating his dinner. Suffer as they may, the guards stood vigil over their own souls and acted as good soldiers should.
Claudesius searched for ways to stall his return to the justice chambers. Not only did he wish to have this child’s’ attention, but the thought of sharing her with the two ugly stooges, Ogust and Jusslin, was so much more than repulsive. Using a pretense of gaining needed background information to fairly judge the case, Claudesius busied himself in small talk with the girl. As they strolled along, the governor casually looked toward the porch’s ceiling, musing, “Ishtar, um, Ishtar… Now that is such a strange name for a child of the Jews and one who has Cephas for an uncle, don’t you think?”
Although suspicious of Claudesius’ motives, Ishtar’s innocence could see no treachery in his question. She cautiously answered, “My mother is a Jewess, that is true, sister to Cephas. But my father was from a city in Phrygia, not more than thirty leagues from here. He was a man of honor, serving as a captain in the fabri, the engineers, and second assistant to the praefectus fabrum, none other than Vitruvius III, grandson of Vitruvius I, overseer of the works, personal servant of Caesar Augustus. My father was so favored by Vitruvius that he gained citizenship at his behest.”
The governor stopped, staring at Ishtar. “So, you, too, are a Roman?”
Ishtar shook her head. “It was after my birth that the gift was bestowed upon my father, a gift for his valor to duty that led to his fateful accident and crippling.”
“Your mother is a Jew, but your father a Phrygian.” Claudesius quietly drummed his fingers against a supporting column of the porch. “So how did such a happy relationship develop, come about, I mean, between your father and mother?”
With indignant undertones, Ishtar answered, “My mother is a Jewess and she met my father while he was in the Decapolis, on king’s business. He did not hold the Jews in disdain as some men do but found them most fascinating. He fell in love with my mother, taking her for a wife, not some plaything!”
Treston instinctively stepped away, expecting to see the girl backhanded and flung across the marble floor. But, no, much to his surprise, Claudesius brushed off the child’s insolence, carrying on as if nothing out of the ordinary had been spoken.
With his hands clasped behind him, the governor politely asked, “So, tell me, daughter of a… a Jewess, how is it you have come to reside among us in this humble city?”
Although her ire was still up, Ishtar replied calmly, “After my father’s accident and subsequent retirement from the fabri, we journeyed here where he established himself as a very successful dealer in trade goods for both the Temple Artemis and foreign merchants. Before the fever took him, my father had secured enough wealth so that his family has not come in need or want.”
Nodding acknowledgement, Claudesius smiled, “You have still not explained your name, other than your father was not a Jew and that he dealt in trade goods for the Temple Artemis. Is there more to tell?”
“There is more,” Ishtar responded. “My father was a man who feared the gods…
that is, all but two. The God of my mother’s ancestors he respected, but the god of his mother’s endearment he came to love. So he gave to me, his only and most cherished child, the name of his beloved god, by the name with which his mother called out to Artemis, and that was ‘Ishtar’.”
Staring into the girl’s face, and lifting a hand in question, Claudesius asked, “Why does a child who holds to this new and strange religion and, may I add, bears the accusation of blasphemy of the very god for whom you are named… why have you not reverted to your Hebrew name, one I am sure your mother has bestowed upon you?”
Ishtar raised an eyebrow at the question. “Many men, worms of the earth…” she chanced a glance at Treston, “have carried honorable names, while there are many good men who have owned names filled with evil and foreboding. For me, the name ‘Ishtar’ is filled with sweet love and bitter sorrow. My father valued me as if a son in his eyes, and wished I remember it should he pass into the world of darkness. I am proud to carry the name for my father’s sake, not for some impotent god of stone and dust.”
There was anger in his voice, as Claudesius quickly chastised the girl. “Do not think yourself wise, ridiculing the creators of this world! My powers of discipline will arrive quickly upon the heads of such blasphemers.”
Ishtar’s retort was swift and stinging. “No man has any power at all unless the Maker of all worlds grants it! You breathe life, as do other men and beasts. Not one hair’s breadth can you add to it, other than what my God has given you!”
Claudesius’ hand was just a blur as it swept the air, smashing across Ishtar’s face.
“You insolent shit weed! Whore-maiden of an evil apparition! I control your destiny!
Fool! I can make your next breath your last! ”
Though blood gushed from the girl’s nose, she took no note, breathing fire and threat. “Then take it now and I shall wait for you beyond the River for my revenge! I control my own destiny, not a man who quakes in fear at idols of wood and stone!”
Claudesius was not hearing Ishtar’s reply, for he was absorbed with wonder, staring at the girl’s gown. As blood dripped from Ishtar’s face, it fell in rivulets onto her dress, spattering on the stones at her feet. In disbelief, he watched as each drop of blood rolled off the fabric as if thrown away in disdain, leaving the dress unblemished.
“What the?!” He reached out to examine the fabric. It was smooth to the touch, the weave something he had never before seen, and it felt warm and cool at the same time.
And it was not white, but danced with every color of rainbow hues when the fabric moved.
“Where did you get this?” Ishtar remained mute. Claudesius screamed, “Where did you get this?!! Tell me now!” He raised his hand as though to hit her again.
Fire in Ishtar’s eyes burned into the governor’s as she leaned forward, nose to nose, seething in angry defiance, whispering her rebuke, “Strike me again, old man! It takes a strong hand to hide a weak mind. If you had eyes, you would see that your shitty gods have no power, else they needn’t rely on the likes of you to protect their worthless names!” The girl braced herself for the coming blow. Nothing happened.
The governor’s hand began to shake. He so much wanted to smash this insolent pest, but he could not. Even through the oozing blood and a growing bruise on the girl’s face, Claudesius stared at such beauty never before seen. He could feel his ardor for the girl growing by the moment. The heat of her breath inflamed his desires. Hate, passion, and fear were at work all at once in his soul.
At length, Ishtar stepped back, wiping a hand across her bloodied face, spitting crimson saliva onto the stones to clear her mouth. Glancing first at Treston and then back at the governor, she smiled coldly, answering defiantly, “As I have already said to one of your servants, an angel gave me this dress.”
Claudesius glared at Treston as if to say, ‘Why didn’t you tell me this?’ then turned his attention back to the girl. She was only a child, eighteen years at best, but her stare was unnerving, as though someone else was looking out from her and peering deep into his soul. Who was this woman? Did the child really have power over the gods?
Impossible! Still, the governor chose not to debate the issue further.
“We must hurry!” the governor called out in his most official voice. Motioning Treston to him, he ordered, “Take this… this person and clean her up. When finished, you shall personally see to her deliverance to my chambers. Have one of your men come with me to assist in making things ready.”
Treston saluted, bowing his head, “Yes, my Lord. It will be done quickly,” his heart pounding with desire as tiny tremors raced across his shoulders and down his arms.
Forcing an excruciating ache into submission, he took Ishtar’s arm, leading her away.
Claudesius disappeared into the shadows, placing a trembling hand over his palpitating heart.
Ogust’s head lolled from side to side while Jusslin gently rubbed his shoulders.
Opening an eye when hearing Claudesius’ return, he noticed the man’s reddened face, smirking, “Oh, there you are! I was beginning to think you had fallen into the lions’ pit!”
Silly laughter followed, Jusslin joining in with some senseless comment. Ogust did so much like to laugh at his own humor.
The governor grinned, sheepishly pretending to appreciate Ogust’s comment by joining in the laughter. ‘Fat puss-face!’ he thought to himself, smiling at Ogust as he crossed the chamber. ‘Could feed a hundred lions for a month on that blubber, if it didn’t kill ‘em first.’
Sitting, Claudesius cast a gaze out the window and across the river, but his eyes saw nary cloud, sky or ship, for the vision of the child, oh, so beautiful, commanded his attention. Passion swept over him, one so great he believed his manhood would rip asunder, and the pain in his lower back grew intense. Only could that girl give him release from this agony. He must find a way to take her for himself… a legal way, of course. It had to be done legally for the governor sat as judge and he mustn’t sully his raiment. She would still have to be given over to death this day. That he had already promised Ogust. But he could have her first and then kill her.
Finding it impossible to think of another thing, Claudesius closed his eyes, dreaming of the child. They suddenly popped back open, filled with dread. What if she was a goddess, come to test him out?! It had happened before, at least in his grandfather’s day.
His father had told him, said the man died a very horrible death for hurting a goddess.
This last thought troubled the governor greatly.
He needed some private time to ponder matters. Turning to Ogust, he asked, “Have you been able to search for a better room to rest in tonight? This judicial case will be ever so boring. I assure you, just a few formalities to keep things legal, but may take some time. Do you really wish to waste this beautiful day on such silly matters? After all, the games will begin soon. Taking care of evening’s business will allow your full indulgence at more momentous events this night.”
Ogust squinted suspiciously, leaning forward and frowning. “I will wait here to see about things myself. A fox offers not to guard an empty henhouse. It’s not like your kind to suffer the indignities of king’s service when excuse offers itself so well to escape such drudgeries. No, I smell sweet jam and honey under your stale bread. I think it best to watch the fox as it dutifully watches the henhouse.”
Claudesius waxed apologetic, defending his innocence. “No! No! That is not what I meant at all, not at all. You see, the child had a little accident while coming here. My officer has taken her to be mended. We may be delayed in starting the trial.”
Ogust’s question was scolding. “So we fixes ‘em back up so’s to kill ‘em? You must have something better for my ears, really...”
Ogust’s wit caught Claudesius off guard. The boy was fat and ever so ugly, but his mind was sharp. The governor considered it wise he best remember that. Hesitantly, he answered, “Ah… well…oh, yes. You see, the girl’s father was a loyal engineer in the emperor’s army, second assistant to Vitruvius III, himself, made Roman citizen at Vitruvius’ request. I felt that if we were forced to judge against the girl, it would be best for her to be treated with the utmost show of fairness in righteous judgment. The emperor would not desire any to question Rome’s integrity in such a case as this.”
Resting his chin in the palm of his hand while drumming his stubby fingers on his cheek, Ogust thought aloud. “I know this Vitruvius. He does take great liking to some of his officers. Hmmmm…very well...” Ogust’s suspicion was not totally satisfied, but he was at least returned to a more receptive mood.
Claudesius smiled, folding his hands in his lap. “So I can proce…”
Ogust interrupted, “But I think I will remain here until this person arrives. If it pleases us at that time, then Jusslin and I will take our leave. You say you do have better rooms?”
Grinning, Claudesius replied, “Oh, yes! Yes! Any you may choose, anywhere you like, here or...or anywhere in this fine city.”
A sudden change in the breeze and an aroma of sweet pastries and fresh bread filled the room. Ogust swooned over the smell. His comments started the two men blathering on about good food and drink and other very unimportant matters, as far as Claudesius was concerned. At least he could think now - think how he could satisfy his burning lust and not become tonight’s entertainment because of it.
Then it came to him. Why not give the girl opportunity to make her confession here and then provide the tools for her atonement. She could then be secreted away, so he could satisfy his passion upon her and later, before the afternoon faded away, invent new
accusations to bring against her. The dogs would still be hungry and the crowds willing to witness a just execution of a heretic. It would work!
As a renewed wave of excitement filled his heart, Claudesius motioned to an attendant who, upon hearing the orders, hurried from the room. Strumming his fingers together, the governor relaxed, pondering details of his little plan.
By the time Treston arrived with Ishtar, the throne room was furnished with objects retrieved by the attendant. To one side of the room was placed a small stand with a statue of the emperor in dignified repose, an oil-wicked flame burning at its base. The flickering fire caught Ishtar’s eye. Her brow furrowed. Beside the tiny blaze sat a bowl of incense, a little scoop resting near it.
Middle morning was rapidly approaching. The noise from the streets below told the governor that crowds were beginning to arrive. He smiled. There was still time. If things went as planned, he would have several hours to ravish the girl. But as he watched her in the shadows, other disturbing emotions grew in his chest, filling his heart with loathing for this creature. ‘No! No!’ He fought the demon within, gritting his teeth. ‘I shall pleasure myself first and then we will kill her!”
Wrapping his flowing cape around himself, Claudesius stood, signifying the height of justice and how it looks far into the distance searching for truth and honor. He then sat, suggesting the weight of responsibility placed upon the office of a judge serving the emperor. Raising an arm with outstretched hand, he commanded, “All give honor to our gracious lord.”
Everyone bowed toward the statue of the emperor. Much to his surprise and pleasure, when Claudesius chanced a glance at Ishtar he saw that she, too, had bent forward in a partial bow, her head lowered. He mused in thought, ‘She must be coming to her senses, or perhaps my officer has persuaded her to have a change of heart.’
What the governor did not know was that Ishtar viewed the giving of honor to the ruling chief magistrate, even though he be represented by a statue, as an acceptable thing.
She saw it as no act of worship to do so. Convincing her to do that would be far more difficult, a fact he was to soon discover.
Treston had no need to wait, though. No sooner was the girl out of earshot of the governor than she let go on him with one vile oath after another. When a guard made some suggestive remark concerning her, she bared her teeth, growling out a curse while threatening him with her fingernails, so disturbing the guard that he backed away, leaving the girl alone. Treston’s passions cooled somewhat, too, fearing what those long nails could do to a man being careless while funning with the girl.
After invoking the gods for wisdom and understanding, and burning incense on the flaming altar before the statue, Claudesius called out, “The accused shall step forward.”
Immediately, Ishtar moved out of the shadows until she stood at the base of the judgment chair. Then, with bended knee, the girl bowed low in front of the governor, her eyes cast toward the floor.
A gentle breeze caught the light fabric of Ishtar’s dress, it shimmering with delightful colors. Ogust and Jusslin stared in amazement, quietly chattering over its beauty. Claudesius did not see the dress as he stared. His eyes searched for any hint of flesh the dress might reveal, and it was generous. The girl’s shapely form was not hidden by the fabric, it acting more like a silken shade on a moonlit night.
‘On with it, fool! You’re wasting the day!’ Claudesius chided himself, breaking the trance he was in. ‘But she is so beautiful! Another moment, just one...’ his heart pleaded. ‘Be up at it now, fool! Or all will be lost forever,’ the voice in his head cried.
‘Forever!’
Blinking away the voices, the governor sat back, placing his hands on the arms of his chair. Gathering his thoughts, he began, “You have been brought before this court today on the charge of blasphemy – one count of which I am also personally privy to – and on the charge of practicing an unlawful religion. How do you answer to such charges?”
Ishtar lifted her eyes to meet his, Claudesius most disappointed to see no fear in them. The girl stood up and calmly answered, “As to the second charge, I practice a religion that is pleasing to my God. It may be of your choosing to deem it illegal before men, but that is of little importance to me.”
An exclamation of disbelief echoed across the chamber. Claudesius raised his hand, quieting those in the room, then asked Ishtar, “And…?”
“And…” the girl’s face hardened in resolve, “as for the charge of blasphemy? I say I am not guilty. The gods you speak of are the inventions of weak men’s minds and are thus valueless, impotent non-gods.” She pointed, “They do not even have the power to prevent the stink of the river from invading the rooms of the cousin of the god-emperor, nor can they heal the man’s loathsome disease, which he cries out day and night for them to remove.”
Ogust jumped up from his chair, his face as red as the apple he was angrily waving.
“Burn her now! She defames the very gods! She defames me! Throw her to the lions!”
The governor ignored Ogust’s protest, being so absorbed in what Ishtar had revealed.
Filled with wonder, he asked, “Who told you these things?” He was surprised regarding Ogust, something few would know about other than Jusslin or a physician.
Her answer was most disquieting. “There are many things I know and know about.
The way I have learned them is not the concern of mortals.”
‘Kill her now!’ the voice raged in the governor’s head. ‘She must die now or she will destroy us!’ Rage filled Claudesius’ heart, chasing away any passion for the girl.
Red-faced, he started to stand, shouting angrily, “Do not toy with me, you piece of dirt! I can crush you to pulp or release you! I have the power to do to you as I wish!”
Ishtar’s challenge to his authority came on a fiery tongue. “You’d have no power at all unless my God permitted it!” She wagged her finger at him, “There was another of your emperor’s governors who was told that once, but he didn’t listen and learn. Today his bones rot in the dust, and his works are almost forgotten. In the Judgment, how will you stand against the One who rules over Heaven and Earth?”
Ishtar’s rebuke hit Claudesius a severe blow, sweeping away his rage with concern and doubt. He slowly sat down and, head in hand, began pondering the situation. This person standing before him was only a woman-child, having been pampered all her life.
She was not wise enough to outsmart him and by no means so stupid she would not realize the great danger such contentions placed her in. He glanced at Treston. Even a seasoned warrior like him would not dare practice this folly in front of the governor. No, there must be something more. That was it! A talisman! The girl was protected by a talisman or possibly an oath. But the dress! Certainly that must be it, probably bewitched by a sorcerer in a distant land and delivered here by the girl’s uncle or his
friends. He raised an arm, pointing toward two attendants, thundering, “Remove that creature’s garment from her and secure it deep in the wine cellars!”
The two attendants hurried forward, instantly stripping the dress off Ishtar. A deathly hush fell over the room, and then a collective gasp. Treston’s knees buckled, the man nearly collapsing to the floor, his heart pounding in such pain that he feared it would burst. He turned his face away, leaning against a ceiling column for support, forcing his eyes closed. It took several deep breaths before he dared open them again.
Ogust’s jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. Drooling, he cried, “She is beautiful! She is most beautiful!” Guiltily, his eyes glanced back and forth between Jusslin and Ishtar.
Finally, he blubbered again, “She is beautiful!” then staring into Jusslin’s angry face, cried, “For a woman…for a woman, she is beautiful!”
Jusslin had enough. He scolded Claudesius, “Temptress! You have delivered a temptress to spoil our day! This act cannot be tolerated. We will take our leave this very moment!” Gripping Ogust’s arm, he commanded, “Come now, enough of this humiliation! Let us go before my heart breaks.” Still staring at Ishtar, Ogust dumbly nodded, struggling up from his chair and waddling away with Jusslin. As they left, Jusslin turned, threatening, “It better be in today’s games if there is wisdom in your heart!”
Claudesius bowed his head in recognition, but didn’t really hear what was said.
Wisdom was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. At first, he had been taken aback, his heart paining him so, he thought death was near, and it might have been except for the little voice in his mind screaming obscenities about the girl.
Soon his passion temporarily shoved the voice from his head. He sat for the longest time soaking in unfathomable beauty. ‘To bed this woman is cause enough to set the world ablaze with war! To have her for only a night is worth an eternity of damnation!’
Round and round these and other thoughts twirled in Claudesius’ mind. He could not destroy her this day…another day… another time, maybe… maybe…but not this day.
He had to make plans to steal her away for himself unto the end of eternity, and that was not long enough. ‘Besides,’ Claudesius reasoned, ‘she might be a goddess sent to test me. I must find a way to preserve her alive.’ Yes! Yes, that was it. He must find a way to keep this goddess from dying. That must be his test!
Mastering heated passion, Claudesius leaned forward and, with a fatherly tone, asked so politely, “I know how difficult it must be for you to suffer such indignity, but truly, it was necessary. Now, my child, the charge of blasphemy against you has been presented before this court. How do you answer such a charge?”
Ishtar did not stand like a woman disgraced, but stood proud and straight, as if clothed in royal attire, asking accusatively, “Do you really believe my faith is found in a garment made by angels? Look around. Your men and you act like beasts in rut, your prattle only used to prolong Fate’s destiny. Tell me, does the air still not stink from rotten fish and has the fat man been cured? I do not blaspheme, for I have not called down evil on any real god, just sallow images created by weak minds.”
Claudesius’ knuckles whitened as his fingers gripped the chair arms tightly. He mustn’t lose control, not now, not yet. He counted to six, drew in a long breath and commented, “I have only your best interests at heart. I desire…”
Ishtar cut in, raising her eyes as if in thought. “Let me see, my best interest... What do your prison guards say? Oh yes, I remember…‘giving her the bone’! Is that my ‘best
interest’ that you had in mind?” Her voice filled with contempt. “The rat dung in your prison looked at me with the same passion I see in your eyes, only they were not as polite. They took what they wanted, seeking no justification for their actions!”
The voice in the back of the governor’s head cried out desperately, ‘Kill it now!
Now! Before it destroys us!’ Oh, how much he wanted to…to crush this insolent worm, grinding it under his heel. He would do it now, could do it now. He was judge, his very laws giving him that power. But then his heart sang out in equal desperation, ‘Never will you see another like this one. I will not survive if you take her from me! Let her live! Find a way! Let her live!’
For the moment, Claudesius’ heart won out. He relaxed, seeking the right words that would convince Ishtar to accept his terms. The girl must be persuaded. He began ever so benevolently, “Please, my dear child, as governor I have a weighty responsibility to balance justice with mercy, and I wish so much to show you mercy.” Claudesius gestured beseechingly, his voice begging, “Please listen, I am only trying to help you.
Your actions until now, even though out of line, I can overlook, considering the circumstances of the moment. But you must show more respect… respect for my position and for your country. If you will learn to submit just a little, I may be able to find a way to reunite you and your mother. But you must help me.”
He paused, waiting for Ishtar’s reply. She said nothing. Apparently, there was need for more persuasion. Claudesius’ voice softened, his words becoming smooth, like aged wine. “While it is true that you profess membership in an illegal religion, and while such a thing is possibly punishable by death, you have made a case for your defense regarding certain gods, albeit a small one…” he sighed, “but it does give me a place to begin. I may well be able to dismiss some of the charges against you if I receive a tiny bit more cooperation from you.”
The thought of her mother’s distress, hearing her mother’s mournful pleas as the soldiers hauled her daughter away, haunted Ishtar’s heart. She did so much want to see her again, if only for a little while. Cautiously, the girl asked, “What must I do?”
‘Gently now…’ warned his heart. ‘Soft and gentle should be your words. We do not want to scare this creature away.’ The governor put on his fatherly charm. “Even now the crowds gather to see justice fulfilled. If I were to release you at this time, I could not hold you safe, but by the people’s own hands would justice be meted out. No, here, behind these walls should you remain until the righteous ardor of this people be calmed.
Then, when it is safe, I can secret you and your family away from here, to lands where your name and misdeeds are not known.”
Frowning, Ishtar asked in disgust, “Oh, and what shall be the price for such kindness, a private mistress to warm the secret bed chambers of the governor?”
Pretend shock filled Claudesius’ face while his heart raced with desire. He decried Ishtar’s accusation. “My child! My child, I am stung by the remark! So little do you understand about me. I cherish my wife and family, seeking whatever is in their best interest. I promise…promise you, my intentions are most honorable. My concern is only for your welfare.”
Treston almost choked. He had known the governor for many years. More than one maiden had been tied to his bed and more than one child lost to the harbor when Claudesius’ heart took control. But the governor’s speech was good. Never was he better than when drawing prey into his web, and today he was at his best.
Ishtar faltered. The heat of the day, combined with her lack of food and stress of the previous night were weakening her will. She was tired, hungry and very lonely. She missed her mother so. Maybe, just maybe the governor was an honest man. Oh, how much she wanted him to be. She believed there were some good men left in this world of madness. It was possible this man was one. She lowered her head, asking just above a whisper, “My Lord, what must your servant girl do to receive such kindness?”
‘So close! So close! Do be careful. We are so close.’ Sweetly, in earnest, Claudesius answered, “My little one, all that must be done is for you to liven the flame that burns before our benevolent leader. By doing this, I can attest to your loyal servitude to the laws of this great land.”
Ishtar’s face clouded with anger as she pointed, “I have eyes to see. Do not the people cut themselves before the very statues in the city, crying out to the emperor for prayers answered? Full well do you know that is an altar to your most precious of gods!”
Red-faced, Claudesius angrily shouted, “Look! You must do this or you will suffer death in front of the crowds!”
Ishtar stepped back at his outburst.
In solemn apology, the governor pleaded with Ishtar, “I will swear an oath to protect you, even adopting you into my family. You can even worship that God of yours in the privacy of this house. No one will dare bring you harm in this sanctuary.”
Ishtar did nothing.
Claudesius stood, motioning toward the statue with uplifted hands. “Look,” he offered in desperation, “place your hands in mine. I will help you! This way justice will be served and you can tell the others I forced you…that you had no control over what happened.”
Ishtar clenched her fists, her arms rigid at her sides. “And what will I tell the God of the living and the dead? Do you really believe anyone can escape his scrutiny?! His eyes are roving about, searching the hearts of men clear to their kidneys.”
Claudesius shouted, “He cannot search mine!”
Ishtar spread her feet, extending an arm, pointing. She shook her head accusingly,
“He is searching it now, revealing it to children!”
“No!”
“Man of licentiousness,” she countered defiantly, “he shows me your perversions and lusts! Take me now. Ravish my flesh in front of your servants and prove I speak the truth!”
“Liar!” Claudesius screamed. “Your worthless God cannot search me!” He lunged forward, his crushing blow to the side of Ishtar’s head spinning her around, and a second one to the face sending her sprawling on the floor. “Liar! Liar! Liar! ” Claudesius screeched, repeatedly kicking the girl in the ribs and stomach. ‘Kill it! Yes! Yes! Kill it now! Kill before it hurts us again! Do it! Do it!’ The voice in the back of Claudesius’
head had returned, filling his mind with curses and cackling laughter.
Ishtar writhed in agony, her eyes rolled back in her head as she coughed up bloody froth, choking on her vomit. She rolled on her side before passing out.
Treston was aghast, blurting out, “My Lord!” just as Claudesius was preparing to deliver a killing kick to Ishtar’s throat.
“What?” Claudesius appeared to be waking from a fog. “What?” He stumbled back, staring in disbelief at his handiwork. The voice still ranted, chiding him for not
killing the girl. But as he continued watching the blood from Ishtar’s mouth puddle on the floor, the voice faded away, leaving a heart filled with selfish remorse.
Shaking his head in horror, Claudesius wondered at just how wrong it all was. He always thought himself a reasonable man, even kindly and tolerant. Now this anger that welled up from the innermost recesses of a troubled mind, where had it come from? It was like another person dwelling within his head wanted the girl dead. But why? Why, when the passionate ache in his loins only increased? This was all so peculiar and frightening. On shaky legs, he made his way to the judge's chair and sat.
Treston kneeled down beside Ishtar. He sighed, relieved. She lived. It was so puzzling to him. Why did Claudesius so badly need the girl to offer incense to the emperor? Many a time he watched the governor order one’s punishment, even demise, with just a wave of a hand. All he need do was declare this woman guilty of whatever crime he wished and be done with it. He could fun with her through the morning and feed her to the dogs tonight. He could even keep the girl prisoner in his house after passing sentence for as long as he pleased. No one would question him. And this business with Cephas? That was one of Claudesius’ inventions to curry favor with the emperor. He could change it to suit the moment. The governor was an excellent politician, his words smooth like fine wine. No, Treston could find no logic in the governor’s actions.
Ishtar groaned, attempting to move. Treston stood up, stepping back into the shadows. He dare not interfere at the moment, not knowing the mood of the governor.
Strange, his own blinding passion was fading. The girl was still entrancing in his eyes, but something…something tugged at his soul. What it was, he did not know.
Regaining her senses, Ishtar slowly rolled onto her belly and, pushing with her hands, managed to get on her knees. Sitting back, the girl lifted her head, eyes glaring into the governor’s. There was no fear to be found in them, only pain and weariness. At length, with tremendous effort and struggle, Ishtar stood, too tired to speak.
Claudesius pushed aside the battle raging between the voices in his heart and mind.
Surely this creature must see it his way now. He leaned forward, grinning in triumph, asking, “So, what do you have to say about your precious God now? He does not stand beside you providing help. Is he not also a valueless God?”
Ishtar calmed her painful breathing by studying the governor’s demeanor. The man was not at ease. Something troubled his thoughts. Was he going mad, or was he already so? Still, no man should speak that way about her God, not while she lived, at least.
With halting speech, she began, “You stand in front of me, lord of all your kingdom, representing the honor and justice found in your divine law? To you and what you represent, I am supposed to kneel?” She shook her head. “I see not a purveyor of righteous law, but an old man usurping law to satisfy personal whims.” Pausing, Ishtar waited for the governor’s wrath. When it did not come, she continued, “Unlike your gods, my God puts no man under compulsion nor does he drive someone like a dog. By free will I stand before you, knowing full well my destiny before setting my eyes upon you. Your actions only confirm what I already know.”
Claudesius sneered, “So who am I, little girl? Who do you really see?”
Facing him with iron resolve, Ishtar declared, “Then I shall tell you! Confused you are by the war raging in your soul. Also are you afraid and jealous of this little child whom you judge…afraid because you wish to see her dead by your own hands but fear
your heart will languish forever if you do not take her flesh…jealous because this child reflects all the good things you abandoned long ago, selling your soul for momentary glory and fame.” She shook her head. “First you will rape this child to satisfy your flesh and then feign righteous law to silence her voice. I see a man most to be pitied.”
Claudesius went blind with rage, diving from his chair, piling into the girl with his fists, pummeling her face with repeated blows. Instinctively stepping back to avoid the onslaught, Ishtar tripped and fell to the floor. “Shit worm! ” the governor screamed as he wildly began kicking the girl, continuing long after she became unconscious.
“My Lord!” Treston did not hear his own voice as he stepped forward, putting a hand on the governor’s shoulder. He did not consider that his own life was now in jeopardy, thinking only of the girl. “My Lord! Your plan for the day, my Lord?”
The blow was swift. Treston felt no pain at first, just the warm blood in his mouth.
Claudesius stared dumbly, his fist back, ready to strike again. Still enraged over Ishtar’s secret knowledge, he cursed, “I should cut out your tongue, bastard! Get out of my way!” Treston bowed his head, fading back into the shadows, but his swift actions had saved the girl.
Claudesius looked down at the bloodied child, seething in anger, but he did not strike her again. “You shit worm goddess of the lost! Fool, no one shows such disrespect to me and lives! No mercy will you find in this house!” A sudden pain gripped the governor’s heart. His hands flew to his chest while the man’s mind whirled with uncertainty. Was he not the great governor over Ephesus and its many jurisdictional cities, appointed by the emperor, himself? Why should this creature trouble him? She had exposed him for who he really was, had always been… a selfish ingrate, luxuriating in his every wanton desire at the expense of any helpless innocent caught in his web. He used his title to dispense justice when he saw fit or, more often, when it benefited him.
These truths the girl had dared to reveal aloud. For that, she deserved death.
Ishtar was now conscious, but was not attempting to get up. She writhed in agony, her cracked ribs making every breath excruciatingly painful. Blood oozed from her mouth, nose and ears, her eyes staring blankly.
Sniggering laughter echoed through Claudesius’ head. ‘It’s dying. Yes, it’s nearly dead. Best have it now while it’s still warm. You like it warm…much better than dead and cold.’ After shaking his head to drive the voice away, Claudesius stared down at the tortured mess of living flesh sprawled on the floor. Ishtar’s appearance repulsed him, but also excited him wildly. Had he been alone with her at that moment, he would have done what the voice suggested. Then he wondered if the girl was really dying. No! It mustn’t happen! She was a very important part of coming events. “Treston!” the governor shouted.
Hurrying forward, Treston answered, bowing, “Here, my Lord.” He half expected to hear the governor issue a sentence against him.
Claudesius pointed toward Ishtar, commanding sourly, “Take it out of here… Clean it up. Fix it up. Don’t let it die lest you die with it. When I call, return it to my chambers so we can finish this trial.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Treston bowed again and hurried to get Ishtar.
“Oh, and Treston…” the governor called.
“Yes, my Lord?” Treston turned and bowed again.
Claudesius wagged a finger at him, “And don’t fuck her!” reflecting his own burning desire.
“No…no, my Lord,” Treston dutifully answered, distressed and puzzled by the governor’s orders. True, Claudesius knew Treston’s debased reputation. It was one reason the governor retained him in his service, but to this child, now? Well, yes, he could…at one time, maybe…but not now, not anymore. Something in his heart nagged him. Pity? No, he thought not. Respect? How strange an idea. He had never respected anyone, other than possibly his caring wife…possibly. No…no, it must be something else. Still, he wanted to bring no more harm to this child. He ordered two of his guards to take Ishtar away, quickly following.
Claudesius slammed a fist into his opened hand. “Brat! She will not defy me and win! I will teach her! I will teach her!” Bitter feelings of pride and jealousy were rising in his heart, encouraged by the chiding voice in the back of his head. ‘It seeks our throne, it does, it does. Thinks it will become king and rule over us. It must be taught a lesson or it will destroy all that surrounds us, bring our world to nothing, nothing!’
He motioned a servant who soon returned with the lieutenant of his house guard.
“My Lord…” the officer bowed.
Waving his hand, Claudesius ordered, “Take some of your men and go to the North Market Street Prison, the place where Cephas and his heretic friends are secured. Give the chief of the jailers this note. He will deliver into your hands what I have requested.
Bring it back promptly to the upper jail yard behind the palace.”
The officer bowed low, his hand over his heart. “Yes, my Lord. It is already done.”
He left the chamber, gathering up six of his soldiers before leaving the palace. In a few moments, seven men were hurrying toward Market Street on very important business.
Claudesius rested his elbows on the marble support railing, watching the little troop move away. He smiled, “Little brat! Stay true to your God now if you can!”
Midmorning was well passed before the trial resumed. Treston had rushed a doctor to the girl’s aid, fearing she was dying. The doctor sutured a deep cut in Ishtar’s side and fed her some hot herb tea followed by some chicken broth. Somehow, much to everyone’s surprise, the girl not only survived, but also recovered rapidly enough to manage a return to the judicial chambers on her own feet.
Claudesius was again upon the judgment throne, silently observing the child. Ishtar stood quietly, favoring her left side, racked with pain, her eyes fastened on the governor’s.
As he studied Ishtar’s demeanor, Claudesius’ ravenous passion for the girl exploded once more. His palms began to sweat as an ache grew in his groin. He must have the girl! Her cuts and bruises only intensified the man’s desire to ravish her. But now the hour was late. In a short time, Ishtar would have to appear in the arena, Cephas’ test but a few hours future. The thought of losing the girl to death was too much for him. He must do something to prevent her execution, at least for this day.
“My child…” he began, being so careful to salve over any ‘false impressions’ the girl might have earlier had. “My child, my heart aches over this morning’s unfortunate events. I accept full responsibility for my actions, you being completely innocent. Let me explain, please. You see, I look upon you like my own daughter. I have one, so beautiful she is, her years but fifteen. She would like you.” He leaned forward, eyes
beseeching, voice pleading. “I fear for your safety and want to do everything I can to help you. I acted out of frustration and not anger. My frustration led to my inappropriate actions.”
Ishtar said nothing.
Disappointed by the girl’s lack of response, but hopeful he could still win her over, Claudesius went on to describe the ordeal of a public execution. “Have you ever been to the arena?” He waited but received no reply. “I thought not. The arena is where criminals, villains, and…and enemies of the state are sent to be put to death, their crimes and punishments put on display for all the people to see. It is done in a way so as to discourage others from following along in the same evil paths of those being brought to justice. The way the criminal dies must be most gruesome and painful, acting as a deterrent for others.”
Ishtar remained calm, silent and calm.
“One of the more torturous ways of death - one that is reserved for crimes such as those you have been charged with - is that of being torn apart by dogs. One does not die quickly when suffering this fate. No! No, it is a long, drawn-out procedure because the punishment is designed to fit the very vile nature of the crime.
“My child, you must understand, these are not ordinary animals, but specially trained to do damage without taking life, maiming and disfiguring their primary purpose.
Progressively, one will be released at a time, each dog intended to do specific damage.
Slowly, one after another, your extremities will be torn and consumed, you being eaten alive while lying there, writhing in agony. They will devour hands and feet and then groin, thighs and breasts. One or more will eviscerate you, all while the others are busy at their tasks. Yet you will live, screaming for mercy. None will come. Eventually, another dog will be released. You eyes, nose, ears and face will be ripped away, but you will remain alive, living in a silent world with no mouth to cry out for help.
“And finally, after possibly hours of torment, when life is waning, the executioner dog will be released. It will tear out your throat, bringing to a finish what the other dogs started. And then your body and its scattered parts will be gathered up and returned to your family, who will have to decide what to do with you, no one else daring to assist with your remains.
“Think, my child, think of the suffering of your grieving mother as she has to bathe your shattered body for burial. And what about the agony she will have to endure as she watches the dogs devouring her only child?” Claudesius reached out with opened arms, palms up. “All this could have been avoided by your willingness to come under the shelter of my humble home and accepting my hospitality.”
Ishtar leaned forward, squinting defiantly as she placed her hands on her hips, asking, “So, while you’re tenderly protecting me here, who will you be sending to tempt my uncle…your scullery maid or possibly your own daughter?”
Claudesius clenched the arms of his chair, rage growing in his eyes. Who had told this child about Cephas?! Only his trusted officers knew of those plans. He eyed Treston. No, he doubted Treston would be so bold. The man had lived too long under the governor’s rule by understanding the loyalty demanded for survival in this house.
Still, he would have a serious talk with the man at a later time.
Then a troubling thought crossed the governor’s mind. What if Ishtar truly was a goddess sent to test him out? What if an angel did give her that dress and secret
knowledge concerning the governor? Although hounded with growing doubt and fear, he could not help but to push the issue with the girl, wanting her more by the moment.
“What do you have to say?” Claudesius asked, his frustration growing.
Ishtar stood back, her arms to her side. Not a word did she speak.
The governor angrily chided, “I see you’re too stupid to fear for your own death!
What do you have to say concerning your uncle’s, the man who calls you 'daughter'?”
Ishtar’s lips curled as she made rebuke. “You will not lay a hand on that man this day! For should you try, the fiery rage of my God will come down upon you, consigning you and your family to the wiles of that fat man! And your carcass will be cast into the very cesspools used to hide your own perverted handiwork on little children!”
“I will kill you!” Claudesius sprung from his chair. “Insolent bitch!” he screamed.
His fist went high in the air and froze, chest heaving. Something was not right.
A smile…a serene smile shone on Ishtar’s face. She was goading him on. Her eyes spoke to his, ‘Kill me and let it all end here...your hopes, your dreams, your ambitions.
They will end with me…all end here with me.’
Claudesius almost stumbled as he backed away, shaken. The girl was smart. Should he kill her now, where would it leave matters with Cephas? Cephas must surrender to the governor’s demands or all would be for naught. What would Ogust think, seeing his brags come to nothing? Would he be entertaining them this eve?
The voice in the back of Claudesius’ head cautioned, ‘Too late, mustn’t kill it now.
Not now. Break its will. Make it surrender its faith! You know how to do it. You know who to use. Break it! Break it! Then…then it will surrender to your will and you can have it for yourself.’ The voice crooned reassuringly, ‘You can save it from the dogs.
You know how, have done it before. Then it will be yours forever! Do it! Do it!’
Claudesius continued to listen to the persuasive words echoing in his head. He rubbed his chin in thought. “Hmm...” he nodded, smiling. Yes, it would work. He would have success. Turning to his house lieutenant, he asked, “Is everything ready?”
The man bowed, “As you have requested, my Lord.”
He eyed Treston, remarking, “Good! At least one of my servants respects me.”
Then, folding his hands piously in a polite manner, Claudesius addressed Ishtar. “You are a strong-willed woman, but not yet tested as to fitness. Soon we shall see what you are about…are about.” Pointing toward the statue, Claudesius ordered his house lieutenant to gather it all up and follow along. Then, in a chiding voice, he asked Treston if he was up to obeying orders.
Shaken, Treston bowed, replying, “Yes, my Lord. Whatever is your wish, I shall do.”
“Good!” Claudesius grinned, “Take this…this thing to the pits. I have a lesson to teach it, and you will see to the carrying out of that lesson. Bring your guards and we shall be on our way.”
Behind the palace, near the back of the prison’s second level, there had at one time been a series of pits dug for housing animals. Mostly abandoned in later years, Treston kept a few large cats to ‘help keep the prison tidy’ as he would say. Today there were an additional six large beasts recently arrived for the circus, there being no more space at the arena.
‘How fortuitous,’ Claudesius thought, as he followed along in the little procession.
He smiled to think how hungry they must be after such a long journey from the wilds.
‘The girl will certainly be impressed when seeing them.’
Treston walked Ishtar up to the edge of one on the pits so that she could see up close the half-starved cats. He stood behind her, his hands firmly gripping the girl’s upper arms. Treston was also cautious to keep a steady balance and a wary eye. There had been more than one careless jailer shoved to his death when a prisoner had lunged into a pit.
Ishtar was definitely affected by the sight of hungry animals jumping at her, hearing their voracious growls. Indirect lighting coming from narrow windows high up on the outer wall reflected little beads of sweat glistening on her skin and tiny tremors racing through her body. She turned her face away from the pit only to find herself staring into the governor’s grinning face.
“We shall now see what you’re really about. You may not fear your own death, though I like to think differently after watching you…but what about?” He peered into the shadows, motioning for others to come forward.
At that instant, a lonely emptiness began growing in the girl’s chest, spreading in a flash throughout her entire body. From nowhere, a paralyzing fear reached out to take possession of her soul. It was as if she was being abandoned upon the field of battle, all her companions having run away. She suddenly felt alone, with no support. Crying out in her mind to her God brought no relief. Even He had left her. As the terror of the moment grew within her, Ishtar stared wild-eyed at the ghostly shapes approaching from the shadows.
* * *
A painful moan rent the air as Darla fell back against Sirion’s chest. The woman cradled Darla close to her breasts, tears welling up in her eyes. “I think our sister is dead,” she choked in words barely above a whisper. Filled with despair, she searched for an answer, asking Gabrielle, “Is our little sister dead?”
Exhausted from her own ordeal, Gabrielle attempted an examination to find out Darla’s condition. She leaned forward onto her knees, suddenly in agonizing pain from leg cramps. Unable to stand or stretch, she tried ignoring the cramps. Tears ran down her face as she listened for Darla’s vital signs, crying out when a violent spasm raced through her.
At length, Gabrielle lifted her head, unable to open her eyes because of a searing pain, and with panting breath answered, “Our… sister…still…lives. I… I… think…
she’s… she’s gone… into a… coma.” Struggling, Gabrielle pushed herself back. Seeing the anguish in Sirion’s eyes, she attempted to explain the situation. “Darla’s hemorrhaging in the brain and she’s having trouble breathing. Her lungs are filling with fluid.”
Darla’s lips were turning purple, her face blue. Sirion whimpered as her heart was breaking, “My sister’s dying! Can you do nothing to save her?”
Shaking her head, Gabrielle fell forward on her hands, her face only inches from Darla’s, tears raining down upon her little sister as she wailed, dejected, “I have failed!
My child is dying and Ishtar stands alone in her evil world.” Her lips quivered with
remorse. “I have failed! I have ruined it all!” She collapsed on Darla, quietly sobbing in grief.
Sirion softly caressed Darla’s face, her tears streaming down onto the woman’s satiny black locks. “You cannot die! Do not leave me, my little sister! Do not go, for how will my soul ever be forgiven should you die because of my selfishness? Your demons are not your burden to carry. They are mine… should be mine!”
Sirion was but fourteen when the universe fell into darkness, her coming of age celebration cut short because of the Rebellion. Darla, the youngest of all the children at that time, did not remember those days of uncertainty and terror, but lived them every hour of her life, and Sirion, Darla’s next oldest sibling, blamed herself for it all.
Stroking Darla’s hair, Sirion waxed poetic, choking out a lament...
“Death, Oh sweet death,
How much more pleasant is your bed than mine.
Should I rest in your bosom, I will feel no grief.
I shall enjoy your dark embrace.
Bring to me your peaceful release.
Do not make me wait for the morning light.”
Her sorrow turned to haunting refrains, drifting on the breeze across the camp and filling all hearts with sadness...
“Life is a burden we all must bear,
A grief and a shadow we all must share.
The dead are at peace, in a restful, long sleep, Yet the souls of the living must wail and weep.
The dead are not knowing the pain we endure,
To lose our dear sister so loyal and pure.”
“Oh, give us the strength to live through this day, Or let us retire to the dark, far away.
Our hearts will not heal from your leaving us now.
Oh, sister, my sister, remain with us still.
My sister, my sister, remain with us still.”
With chin resting on chest, Sirion groaned defeat, her mournful sobs accompanying Gabrielle’s in a sorrowful melody.
~Quiet is the camp when a warrior is mourned in passing~
* * *
Claudesius smiled. The girl was faltering. Only moments before, she faced him with bold insolence. Now she cowered before her governor, trembling with indecision and fear. It was all working out so well! All that was needed was the tipping stone, the
one act that would force her to recant all hope and faith. Then he would have her. She could not help but surrender to him.
Ishtar struggled to remain standing, her knees weak and shaky. All courage had vanished from her heart, leaving behind a searing void of trepidation and uncertainty.
From deep within Ishtar’s soul there grew an overpowering desire to release a screaming breath of desperation, her lungs constricting in preparation. Storm clouds of madness rushed through the girl’s mind, chasing away any remaining sanity this world held for her . It was wrong, all so wrong!
The governor waved his hand. In moments, three ghostly shapes emerged from the shadows, two guards half dragging someone between them. Stopping in front of Claudesius, they threw their prisoner at his feet. “My Lord!” the man cried, sitting back on his knees and craning his neck to stare up into the governor’s eyes, clasping his hands beseechingly. “Please, my Lord! Mercy, please!”
Claudesius smiled condescendingly, “Travet, my trusted servant.”
Ishtar stared at the man, perhaps in his early forties, groveling in the dirt. He must be a house servant of some kind, but not that of a laborer, his white clothing, now stained and torn, indicating high rank, possibly a director over foodstuffs. He cowered before the governor, occasionally whimpering some incoherent words.
Feigning innocence, Claudesius asked, “Travet, why do you quail before me? Have you not known me to be a fair and just man?”
Travet’s eyes darted around nervously at the others and back toward the governor.
In a shaky voice, he answered, “Ye… yes, my Lord. You are a most fair and just man…
most renowned in all the land.”
Claudesius stepped forward, resting his hand on Travet’s shoulder, asking, “So, should I make a judgment against someone, it would be fair and honest, correct? Based on true facts and without prejudice?”
Travet nodded assuredly, “Oh yes, my Lord! You are the most noble of all men, fair in all your ways.”
“Well,” Claudesius patted Travet’s shoulder, “if that is so, why would a man who is wholly innocent of accusation fear coming before me, quailing upon the ground like a common criminal?”
A shiver swept through Travet. He was being set up to take a fall. Why, he did not know, and the results he was still unsure of. It would matter little what was said in his defense, the governor having already decided the man’s fate. His mind began to resign itself to whatever might come, but his heart cried out in desperation, “Have mercy on me, my Lord! I am an innocent man! I have done nothing wrong!”
As his face filled with a mocking, righteous sadness, Claudesius circled Travet, glancing at Ishtar. Good! Good! He could see growing terror in the girl’s face. Stopping at Travet’s other side, he again squeezed the man’s shoulder, his voice filled with hurt and betrayal. “Your speech is twisted and confusing.” With a sly smile, he shot Treston a glance.
Treston tipped his head, recognizing the warning being given. Travet was playing the pigeon in today’s game and Treston was being warned just how close he had come to being that fowl instead of Travet. Claudesius was intolerant of imprudent behavior.
Treston had seen it before. And when there was a kettle brewing, he was willing to imply imprudence even when there was none to be found. The governor liked Treston, and this
day, when he so needed a victim of impropriety, he selected an innocent – that Treston knew – instead of choosing him when he had earlier acted so brashly. That glance was Treston’s warning not to act in such a way again.
Claudesius continued, “You claim innocence, yet you beg for mercy.” He bent down, staring into Travet’s face, scolding, “Only a deceitful man filled with treachery would seek mercy, not one honest in heart and motive. No! No! With a lying tongue and crooked mouth you have preached falsehood, risking the lives of all in my house! I have it on good authority that you intentionally sought the harm of my distinguished guests by spoiling the food served them this very day. Confess your sins to me at this time, my son, so that mercy can be given you.”
Travet cried out in desperation, “No, my Lord! No! I gave them our very best there was found to offer. From your own larder, I found the stuffs to provide. They asked for what could not be found in the city, anywhere! I searched and searched. All night, I personally sought out their request and could not find such things anywhere at all.”
“Liar!” Claudesius screamed.
“No, my Lord!” Travet cried out, sobbing, “I searched the city out…”
“Shut up, you!” the governor shouted in his face. “You attempted to poison my guests, the very magistrate of the emperor and his distinguished counselor! For that, you must be disciplined to the proper degree.” He stood back, shaking a finger, “It has been said that a poor cook will blame the pot for a bad meal.”
He motioned the guards and, sweeping his hands in broom fashion, ordered them to remove Travet. As they dragged the whimpering man away and toward the cat pit, Claudesius sighed with sweet longing, “I will so miss those ham and clove omelets.”
It suddenly clicked in Treston’s head. Claudesius had not delivered Ishtar here to feed the girl to the cats. He wanted to put on a convincing show for her, one that might just help adjust her thinking, make the child submissive to his will. What the governor intended to do with her after she had pleasured him, Treston was not sure. Whether it was to the arena to delight the crowds or the secret chambers under the governor’s palace where special guests were quartered mattered little at the moment. Treston knew it was best he should diligently serve his master’s will, or Travet’s coming fate might well be his own.
Treston yanked Ishtar around and, with the help of other guards, forced her to the edge of the pit. Pushing her head forward and down, he reached over Ishtar’s head, pulling her eyelids back, his nails digging into her flesh until blood oozed from the wounds he made. There the girl stood, helplessly staring into the faces of hungry animals jumping and clawing at her, only feet away.
Ishtar cried out in terror, vomiting as she did. Then all control dissolved. Her bowels surrendered their restraint as her bladder emptied itself on the stone pavement.
But she did not fall. The strength of many hands secured her well, carrying the girl’s weight, keeping her standing.
A guard assisting Treston laughed, chiding Ishtar, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!
Honey, jus’ you wait!”
With a grunt, the two men holding Travet shoved him into the animal pit directly under Ishtar’s eyes. The man’s screams were cut short when he was literally ripped apart in front of her. A mad scramble broke out among the hungry cats, fighting for pieces of flesh hitting the floor. Crimson liquid squirted up, spattering Ishtar in the face, the girl
screaming in shock and fright. Most gruesome of all, though, was when one of the wild beasts grabbed part of the man’s torso and, retreating across the pit, strung Travet’s innards along its path.
Ishtar watched in horror while the animals each settled down to finish their remaining morsel. Crunching and gnawing of bones finished quickly, but to the girl it lasted an eternity. Finally, after a lifetime of numbing terror, the frenzied tumult below eased until the sounds of raspy tongues licking the stones and an occasional growl were all that was to be heard. Of Travet, nothing remained to tell of his woeful tale other than a few scraps of bloodied cloth and pieces of chewed sandals.
“So‘s the fate of cooks and fools...” Treston taunted. Clutching the girl by the hair, he jerked her back, throwing her down to the stones. Ishtar lay sprawled on the pavement, shaking uncontrollably, sobbing.
“Get up, you!” Claudesius screamed. “You’re next on the menu if you fail to offer your proper respect to our lord and king!”
Although her eyes were opened, all Ishtar could see was Travet being torn to pieces by the giant cats, searing her brain forever with those ghastly scenes. Gradually she came to her senses so as to hear the governor’s continuing threats. Struggling, Ishtar slowly pushed herself up and back until she sat, rocking back and forth on her knees.
Ishtar’s panicked breathing and glassy stare comforted Claudesius, the girl’s blood-spattered face and uncontrolled tremors only exciting him all the more. His groin ached with an agony he never before experienced. It took all the man’s effort to restrain himself from ravishing the girl at this very moment.
‘Patience… patience…’ a voice called out in his mind. ‘Your fun will be better if you wait for her offer. Wait on the girl to surrender to your will.’
Leaning forward with arms outstretched, Claudesius’ voice became benevolent and fatherly. “I am so dismayed that such a young thing like you must suffer such travesty as this. Please, if you will now only reach out to me and submit to the generous laws of this land, I can save you from any more of these indignities. Please child, reach out to me.
Let me guide you to your rightful destiny.”
Rubbing her arms in anxious despair, Ishtar heard only the roar of the beasts and Travet’s final screams cycling round and round in her head. The governor needed to repeat his offer twice more before she could comprehend what was being said. Looking toward the source of the words, the girl’s eyes gradually focused on Claudesius. As the numbing pain of tormented dreams eased, she began to understand the words’ meaning.
She was being asked to surrender all that was real to her, all that made life worth living.
“No! I cannot!” she cried. “I cannot! Cannot! No! No! No! I cannot!”
Claudesius’ face reddened in anger as he screamed, “Fool! Damnable, stupid fool!
Do you not fear such a horrid death?!”
Ishtar stared blankly, her lips speaking unuttered words.
“Damn you! Damn you!” Claudesius cursed. “I shall have my way with you if the world should be forced to end!” He looked into the darkness, pausing in thought, then motioning to others hidden in the shadows, turned back to Ishtar with a wily smile. “To bask in self-sacrifice for such a foolish cause and to risk your own death appears to be an easy matter for you, but what if your actions determine the fate of others? I wonder...”
The cries of a woman fell upon Ishtar’s ears. She looked up, searching for the face behind the cries - cries that carried the tone of a familiar voice.
A guard angrily shouted, “Get goin’, you, or I’ll jab ya again!”
Aghast, Ishtar watched two terrified little boys followed by a very pregnant woman holding a small girl hurrying out of the shadows. The woman came at a waddling run, supporting her naked belly with one hand while clutching her daughter in her other arm.
She was stripped to the waist, wearing a torn and bloodied garment that was now little more than tatters. It was obvious from the woman’s cuts and bruises that she had fared little better after her arrest than Ishtar.
Catching her breath, Ishtar whimpered, forlorn, “Merna! Oh… oh… Merna!”
Nearing the governor, the guard slammed Merna between her shoulders, sending her sprawling onto her belly. The woman’s elbows hit the stones with a loud crack, Merna struggling to extend them so as not to crush the child she carried. With a painful groan, she sat back, grabbing her belly in agony as she vomited on herself and the child.
The guard shouted at the terrified and confused boys, “Sit down, you brats, or I run ya through! Ya hear!”
“Dilean… Jessie… Hilen, Hilen…” Ishtar was in tears. “Oh, Merna! Merna! I am so so sorry!”
Claudesius smiled questioningly, “So you know each other? Well, well, what a small world we all live in.”
Looking over and into Claudesius’ eyes, Ishtar began to comprehend what was on the man’s mind. She froze in terror as the full meaning sank in. Then, falling forward on outstretched arms, she rocked her head from side to side, writhing in distress, wailing,
“No! No! No! You cannot expect… You cannot… can not!”
Claudesius feigned remorse as he apologized, “I did so much wish for the entire family to make their visit upon you, to help you understand the seriousness of the hour, but, alas, Merna’s husband…” he glanced at Merna, “well, you see this woman, Merna?
Her husband had an unfortunate accident this last evening. He was of a rather delicate nature, you know, something he failed to inform the inquisitor about.” He looked again at Merna. “Poor fellow, and with such a big, needy family, too.” Then he added, with a grin, “And growing bigger every day...” Turning his attention back to Ishtar, Claudesius crooned wistfully, “It would be such a shame, you know, with everything this family has already suffered, to see any more misfortune befall them today.”
Ishtar stared first at Claudesius and then at Merna, saying nothing.
Claudesius replied to her question unuttered, “This family was arrested for being members of an illegal society that is in opposition and a threat to the emperor and this great nation. It is my regrettable duty to pass proper judgment upon these people so that justice is served.” He smiled, “Of course, with your help, I might be able to act with added care and leniency, seeing all that your dear friend, Merna, has already suffered.”
Tears streamed down Ishtar’s face as she cried out, pleading, “Please! Please, my Lord! Cast me to the lions! Kill me! Kill me!”
Shaking his head, Claudesius calmly answered, “It is not your judgment that is being determined at the moment. Merna has disregarded our laws and shown disrespect to our gracious leader and king. She must answer for her error. But you may be able to decrease the severity of her punishment by assisting me in this matter.”
“How?!” Ishtar asked. “How can…what can I do?”
‘She is yours!’ the voice in the governor’s head called out. ‘Make her worship me and she will become your willing servant.’
He had won, or so he thought. Puffing out his chest in exalted pride, Claudesius answered, “The power is in your hands, my child… has been. Just go to the little statue and show your respect for our gracious leader and chief magistrate, and I will be able to show some mercy to this distraught woman and her needy family.”
Ishtar cast her eyes toward the stones, shaking her head and with arms outstretched, cried, “I can not! You know I can not! I cannot do such an evil thing to my God and Lord!”
Claudesius was taken aback. Surprised and angry, he shouted, while motioning to the nearby guards, “See to my justice! Take such a little thing and feed it to my pets!”
In less than a breath, a guard had taken hold of Hilen’s arm, whisking her away from Merna, flinging the screeching child several feet through the air and over the edge of the animal pit.
Merna struggled up, screaming, “My baby! My baby!” Crack! Another guard hit Merna on the side of the head, knocking her down.
The cats made the most terrifying noises as they fought for the tiny morsel. Ishtar clutched her ears, adding her dreadful wails to the tumultuous sounds. “My God! My Go, why have you abandoned us to these devil beasts who walk like men?! You must help us! Help us! I cannot do this alone!”
Laughing, Claudesius chided, “Where is your great Yehowah now?! Do you think he may be asleep in blissful rest? Maybe he needed to relieve himself. Yes, yes, that’s it.
He needed to relieve himself.” Putting his fisted hands on his hips, he shouted, “I am your god! Now listen to me and live! I can give you and all this other rabble life!”
Treston said nothing, but was nearly numb with shock. Never had he seen the governor act in such a violent manner. Yes, he had witnessed murder, deceit, rape and even more disgusting acts come from this man, but never with the abandon being displayed at the moment. ‘Devil beasts?’ Ishtar included him in that lot. Was he truly a devil beast-man? The words stung, possibly because they struck chords of truth.
Extending his hand, Claudesius calmly made Ishtar an offer. “Come, my child, just show a little respect to the ruler who can give you strength and life. Come…” he waved his hand toward Merna and the boys. “Come and do your sacred duty, and allow them life.”
An inner turmoil tore at Ishtar’s heart and soul, ripping clumps of hair from her head while clawing her face, crying inconsolably. With swollen eyes, the girl pleaded with Claudesius. He said nothing, waiting upon her. Finally, with halted breath, she choked out her reply. “I… I… I will never surrender my love for my God… not to a demon whore! Never!”
Shocked and angered, Claudesius fought his feelings, acting as though sad and remorseful. “What a pity. And I thought you were so wise…very disappointing.” He studied Merna. “The poor woman is weak. This ordeal has done so much to add to her frail condition already. And look, her baby is due soon. What a shame to lose a life before it sees the world around it. And the boys, to see such loss…both parents in one day.”
Ishtar stared at the stones, quietly sobbing.
“Bitch!” Claudesius screamed. “It’s all your fault, you little bitch! You and that goddamned religion of yours! You’ve ruined it all! You’ve ruined it all for me!” He lifted his arm, motioning the guards.
Two men grabbed Merna and with a grunt, they roughly lifted her to stand and, half dragging her, pulled the whimpering woman toward the pit. At the edge, they stopped, waiting further orders.
Shaking a finger at Ishtar, the governor warned, “You have just one more chance to save your friend and her unborn. Tell me, what will it be?”
Choking back bile from an unruly stomach, Ishtar cried, “I will not betray my God! ”
Merna stood motionless, mumbling, “Hilen…Hilen...” over and over.
Claudesius nodded toward the guards.
Merna screamed when the two men shoved her into the pit, her cries quickly replaced by the sounds of tearing flesh and crunching bones.
“Mommy…! Mommy…! Mommy…!” Dilean and Jessie cried, tears streaming down their faces. They started to get up and run to her.
“Down you!” a guard gruffly shouted, cuffing one of the boys and grabbing the other. “Now sit!” He shoved them to the stones. “Your time’s soon enough. Be patient.”
Ishtar wailed Merna’s name and pitched forward, almost knocking herself senseless on the pavement. Stunned momentarily, she lay motionless.