Rune and Ruin

7 - Obey

391 B.C. - City of Caere, Coast of the Tasurian Peninsula, Spring, Month of Maius

Thania

I look about at the assembled priestesses, feeling a twinge of regret at seeing two young girls in the virginal white robes of Dyen. The Hatrencu has left it to me to explain the duties of the Arthe priestesshood to the new acolytes and quite frankly, I'm not sure how to begin. It has taken two full weeks to gather twelve girls willing to take the oath of Arthe, and subsequently swear their loyalty to a Tasuri general. We're lucky to have the time. In his angry, bitter speech to us on the day he entered Caere, the Warlord only gave us two days to accomplish this.

Stretching my neck to roll away some of the tension, my eyes fall on Mairre, a young priestess of Enlil whose voice trembles slightly as she asks if it's true that any Tasuri man with enough coin or sway with the Warlord can claim her.

I smile in sympathy. Mairre is volunteering to serve Arthe for her younger sister, who will now have the chance to take her sister's place with the goddess Dyen. I hope that Mairre's younger sister appreciates the sacrifice.

The rumors sweeping through the city take my mind away as I struggle to think of a diplomatic answer for her. I haven't been visited by the Warlord for four days, and when I do see him it is well after the moon is high. Falx Fyrrin sneaks into my bed like a thief and leaves the same way. There are mornings that I lay abed, wondering if it's all some sort of twisted dream. I may think it was, except for the memory of his hands and mouth on my body and the soreness between my legs.

According to the reading Nahma and I have done recently, the blessing of companionship, the hallmark of the goddess Arthe, is to encourage relationships. Instead, it feels like... well, very similar to how it felt on the warmarch, although the Warlord sent me money yesterday. More coin than I've ever held all at once.

When I tried to distribute the coin amongst the neediest families in the city, I was stymied by two unfortunate circumstances. First, my 'shadows." Never far from my side, even now a Tasuri is lurking, leaning against a tree in the distance, his blue striping down his tunic sleeve marking him as one of the elite belators. Sometimes the warrior changes, but for the last day it's been this one more often than not. There are very few citizens who are brave enough to look at me, let alone speak, with a Tasuri shadow leering over my shoulder.

Second, one of the Warlord's posted laws clearly states that for the next month, no Acera will be able to hold Rune coin. Presumably, for the census and taxes to be properly counted.

The fact that I am Acera, holding a bag of Rune coin, either didn't occur to the Warlord, or he presumes I can spend whatever I wish and forgets that I don't dare break his laws.

Why am I the unlucky one who has to pretend to understand this new life? I faintly smile at Mairre and wonder if I should try to go shopping later. Very little is for sale in the city, but maybe I can find some clothing and food for the families. I eye the belator, who is creeping closer, his eyes narrowed on one of the Acolytes, Perla. Will he stop me? The warriors barely speak to me and never touch me. Their mere presence is intimidating enough. I will have to be brave.

I frown at the belator until he notices. Immediately, the big beast of a demon shifter moves back into the shadow of the tree as if the skinny trunk and leafless branches could hide him.

A match.

My frown deepens into a glare. The Warlord told me that only the loyal generals will be matched to the Arthe priestesses, at least at first.

A match.

So say the gods, I think with a bit of a sour note. This means, I presume, this hulking shadow is one of the long-awaited generals of Rune. I examine him more closely, seeing the hint of horns and the dark runes of scales along his skin. He certainly is intimidating, and I don't like how closely he watches Perla.