Life & Death

The Grand Temple of Dejahrine stood in the heart of the city's old quarter, her statue in the courtyard holding both a sword and baby to signify Dejahrine's role as goddess of life and death. Her priestesses always sought to emulate her and were widely regarded as the finest warrior-whores in the world but I cared not.

Every year a woman was sacrificed to Dejahrine, her blood shed to ensure her mortal representative remained with us. All but one went willingly and it is because of that one, my wife, that I stood before the Grand Temple. Simply walking into the courtyard, with its finely-made pavilions, was said to be enough to draw the attention of the eye of judgement but I cared not.

I was briefly distracted from my cause by an approaching priestess, a bolt of sheer cloth hanging from a low-slung girdle vainly attempting to provide her modesty. Every step was full of sensual promise, aimed at inflaming passion, and when her confident strut bought her to my side full breasts were squashed pleasingly against my moulded cuirass.

"You are garbed as if for war my lord. Will you love first and be blessed?"

I grasped the temple maiden by the upper arms so I could hold her at arm's length, observing as she adapted to the situation and a submissiveness came over her.

"I am here for my wife, my love. You'll take me to her."

She squirmed as I tightened my grip, a flash of pain on her face, but shook her head.

"My lord, your wife isn't here."

"Enough." I threw the priestess back and quickly strode past, heading for the temple itself. "I'll find her myself."

It was forbidden for a man, even a king, to enter the space most sacred to women but at this point I cared not.

Inside the first priestess I encountered was currently dedicated to Dejahrine's warrior aspect, wearing a similar armour to mine and carrying a thin-bladed sword at her waist. Upon sighting me the priestess drew her sword, a snarl of anger twisting near-perfect features.

"Defiler!"

With a lunge she tried to skewer me and only by sharply twisting was I able to avoid that fate, her blade instead scoring a line across my armour. I took hold of my own weapon, a longsword that had been forged when I was born, and launched a furious assault that lacked any finesse, driving the off-balance priestess backwards until she met a wall. The tip of my sword was just touching her throat, the slightest movement would easily tear her flesh, and I withdrew just enough to let her answer my questions.

"A maiden of the temple was found dead in my wife's chambers but my wife was nowhere to be found. Where is she?"

The priestess swallowed, staring down the length of my blade, and wide-eyed shook her head, knowing her ignorance meant death.

She tried to scream as I thrust my sword into her neck, the sound suddenly blocked by the metal barrier, and I kept her pinned to the wall until she was limp. I carefully looked around the long hall we'd been fighting in after retrieving my blade, aware that the sounds of combat would have echoed, but after a moment of solitude I hurried deeper into the temple, pushing through a set of doors into another large chamber.

Here was gathered a significant number of priestesses, the high priestess visible in front of a human-scale statue of Dejahrine. They were arrayed in a phalanx formation, lines of angry female faces glaring at me from above rectangular shields.

"Never has a man stood in the inner sanctum."

I struggled for calmness as the high priestess spoke, her voice full of a self-righteous condemnation.

"Never has the temple abducted someone! Let alone the wife of the king!"

"Boy. You are really just a boy." The high priestess spread her arms to gesture at the temple around us. "I remember when this was just a mud hut, when your ancestors slew themselves for my favour. And when we were abandoned we struck a terrible bargain. The queens of the realm have always been ours to do with as we please since then."

"No."

I took a step forward, watching the assembled priestesses brace themselves in case I made a sudden rush. Each was a skilled fighter, given to the temple as a child and trained to do just two things. I was older than most of them, strength sapped by the earlier battle, and had a far less focused education.

That varied teaching did give me some ideas though, I knew tricks the priestesses probably didn't, and I sprinted to the left of the chamber, towards a knot of temple maidens who'd been just a bit slower than their sisters in initially reacting to me. True enough I was able to take advantage of their hesitation, using their shields as a springboard over their heads. It hurt landing though, those near the back of the formation had been able to use their blades, and hot blood ran from the scratches they'd inflicted on me. Of course it didn't go entirely their way. The maiden I'd landed on wore in death a look of surprise and several others were reeling from the wild swings I was making.

I cut a path out of the phalanx, leaving priestesses either dead or dying in my wake, and quickly made for the high priestess, before the others could reposition themselves. The ancient woman was standing next to the altar and my pace slowed as I looked at the exsanguinated corpse lying upon it, ending my passage by crashing heavily to my knees.

"Her's was a royal bloodline. You chose well." The high priestess' hand was resting on my head and I glared up at her. "Your son will receive my teachings and the kingdom will be as it should be."

Her ravings were abruptly cut short when I drove my sword up and into her, the tip of my sword easily slicing through her black heart. Uncomprehending eyes stared at me when I clambered back to my feet, arms shaking as I held sword and impaled victim into the air. All trace of the blade had gone, the high priestess' pelvis was resting against the hilt of my sword, and I threw the combination of flesh and steel at the priestesses.

There was a growing murmur as I approached the altar, the phalanx overcoming its shock and recovering its earlier anger. Even as I scooped the body of my wife into my arms I could feel them closing in, the murmuring becoming a chorus of passionate cries, and I turned to face them, unwanting to continue without my love. I cared not what they would do with me.