A Priestess for the Blind God (Legends of Rahasia Book 1)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

With my hair cropped short, breasts bound, and my father's armor, I pass as a common soldier. The plan was to pose one of Ibrahim's foot soldiers, a pretend bodyguard for Arno. I pull my cloak's hood up just in case. But nobody seems to care about me as I fade into the background of the returning war hero that is Arno. I'm seated on a dull gray horse while Arno rides his father's black stallion, all pomp and shining bronze plating while I dress in the colors of nightly shadow.

When we enter Rahasia, dressed as soldiers, Arno takes all the roads I know nothing about, our horses barely sliding through cramped washing and a crush of bodies. I'm used to traveling only civilian passageways, as befitting a noblewoman. But Arno, he takes the military side streets, and there's not a woman in sight. When we pass by the taverns and brothels, the men clap Arno and me on the back, offering us drinks and women. I blush when they make knowing gestures at me, thinking me a young boy, but Arno waves them away.

"Come now, Arno!" Ibrahim's soldiers call, clutching mugs of beer, "we were going to celebrate your return with a little bit of wine, some roasted birds." They wink at Arno, "we know how you're fond of the fleshy bits. We're talking about the birds still, of course."

"Yeah, Arno," a man with patchy skin slaps my shoulder. "You can even bring this boy along for the show. I heard there was only one woman at that Diviners' camp. And she was a witch, too! It must have been a drought for you out there, in more ways than one."

My blush deepens, and I retreat beneath my hood.

"No, my friends. I have some business to attend to. Debts to be paid." Arno laughs, the chuckle resounding throughout the alleyway. "And as for the woman, I'd be careful how you speak about her." He moves his armor, readjusting it to show the worst of the gashes he'd received from Kane's cavern, the amateur, looped stitches I'd done with what I remembered of my mother's healing lessons. "She gave me this scar when I fought her in combat."

"No!" The men's eyes widen in shock. I smirk at their horror. "You, Arno? She did that to you?"

"Oh yes," and here Arno puffs out his chest, going into full-storyteller mode, "in fact, I hope to befriend her. Her father's Serkan Ngayoh, you know. The Cleaver of Men. His daughter took much after him."

The men share a look, one of them has Arno lean down. He whispers something urgent into Arno's ear, and Arno's worry deepens as his eyes lock with mine.

Without another word, we turn around and Arno digs his heels into his horse's side.

"What is it?" Alarmed, I search Arno's expression, trying to see what's wrong. "What did your men say?"

"Heavily armored soldiers," he turns back to me, sorrow in his eyes, "they surrounded your father's house in the early hours of the morning."

I turn my eyes to the heavens, searching in that calm blue sky for a hint of Kane's dark rage, his shadow over my body. Is this the price? I wonder, heart hammering in my chest as we ride at breakneck speeds to rescue my father.

Is this the price of being a woman Champion?

When we arrive at my home, there's not a living soul in sight.

Only silence. Fear.

***

Hey Champions,

Here's a double update because it's Friday and I'm very excited for the newest plot developments:

Her becoming the Blind God's Champion.

Her being called a witch.

Arno pledging himself to her service...

What do you think of Ode re-entering the city, is there a price for a woman being a Champion?

Best

Sophia Whittemore