Oleander

II. Truths and Lies

It was foolish to make deals with demons. But Yalira had hoped that King Andar of Tyr would not betray her as he did. Optimism, she learned, was wasted on monsters.

He let her people leave the deep chambers of the temple: a sad group with a single remaining temple guard, two elder priestesses, and a handful of acolytes. There had been others in the chamber. Two other temple guards had died from their wounds. An older acolyte had taken a dose of hemlock at the thought of starving to death behind the sealed doors. Andar let the survivors live, in his way.

Andar sent the temple guard to the war camp prison. He trusted the vow of silence the Antalis guards so reverently held. The elder priestesses, who had taught Yalira, raised her, would not forsake their devotion to truth. Not for a king, not for this monster that sought the world. Not even when their tongues were cut out. The display of casual violence was enough to frighten the girls from their oaths: the acolytes promised submission to the Tyran Empire and proclaimed Volys as their enemy. Tala seemed unable to speak, but nodded as Andar demanded her obedience. When Yalira argued that he violated the bargain, a single threat toward the small band of survivors silenced her.

And he claimed her life. Not as a sacrifice for Antalis, but as a wife. It was her promise that held her fast to the seat beside him as a reluctant bride only two days after the destruction. But he had promised their lives, and as the ax raised over the guard's neck, Yalira traded Andar's disobedience for her own.

"His life is mine."

Though she meant only her husband to hear, Andar's first lieutenant, her captor in the temple halls, hesitated. But without a command from Andar, the pause was brief. He raised the ax with a horrible familiarity, the weight easy in his practiced hands.

"Hold, Gallus." Andar's voice was quiet, even.

The silence in the broken hall was immediate and fragile and powerful: she, the High Priestess, was challenging the conqueror of the world.

"My wedding gift," Yalira added, her voice clear and cutting through the tension. She could not fight him as priestess, not in front of his company. They had no respect for a priestess of Antalis. "He's my wedding gift."

Andar's posture shifted next to her, a crouched lion, a coiled snake. His hand trailed behind the altar to imprison her wrist loosely within his grasp. It was the lightest of touches and yet it filled Yalira with a fear so powerful, she was not certain she stomach the challenge. But her courage was growing.

"A spirit so gentle, she would forgive even traitors!" He cajoled his men into laughing with him, his easy tone in direct opposition to those rough fingers tracing warnings into her skin, his lethal eyes fixed to hers. She forced herself to keep her gaze focused to that fiery, calculating stare. Andar had demanded her submission to the wedding, he had promised her the few remaining lives of her people. He may be a king, a warrior, a tyrant–but he was a man. A man who will not cower my spirit.

"Not so gentle," Yalira countered, keeping the cool, ethereal cadence of High Priestess. "He has betrayed Antalis, but I will name him my champion."

The chamber held its breath in anticipation. Andar's surprised laughter battered against her fear. It shifted the scales back into his favor. The veins of anxious energy that had stirred among his company returned to relaxed inebriation. Hands that had fluttered subconsciously towards weapons returned happily to their drinks.

"Brothers!" Andar roared. "The lion queen's champion will redeem his crimes honorably in the sand!"

Another chorus of hearty cheers. A muffled sob from one of the gilded temple acolytes at her left. Yalira kept her back straight, her chin high, but her heart pounded in her throat. Its pulse in her ears seemed to drown out everything except the unflinching silence of the temple guard. Stoic and solemn, he met her eyes with confused betrayal. Yalria had given him a chance to die standing but robbed him of the honor defending her temple.