Enslaved (Brides of the Kindred Book 14) (48 page)

“You’ll
be sorry for this.” Charlie’s eyes were blazing. “We were sent by the Goddess
herself to save Trin!”

“That’s
right,” Becca said, also glaring at Betina. “She sees what you’re doing to this
poor girl and she does
not
approve.
Nobody
would. You’re treating her like a
war criminal just for falling in love!”

The
high priestess looked at them speculatively. “You serve your own goddess with
much fervor and determination—perhaps with a little retraining you might be led
into the light to serve the true goddess—the Goddess of Judgment—instead.”

“Don’t
hold your breath, sister,” Becca snapped.

“Yeah,
I don’t think we’re interested in converting to the Nazi Germany of religions,”
Charlie added.

“Well,
you will have a night to think about it.” Betina snapped her fingers.
“Guards—take them to the dungeons.”

Charlie
and Becca looked like they wanted to put up a fight but with the muzzles of the
destroyers pointed right in their faces, they didn’t dare.

“I’m
sorry,” Trin whispered as they were led away. Though she hadn’t been able to
agree with what they were saying, she was still touched that they had come all
the way from Earth to try and rescue her. She only hoped her new friends would
be treated more gently than she had been.

* * * * *

“So
she refuses to come with you?” Thrace
asked, staring at the viewscreen where the blonde haired woman, Charlie had
appeared. He had spent a restless night, pacing up and down the length of the
small ship, itching to invade the temple and take Trin out by force if
necessary. Only the other males’ repeated reminders that the Goddess had said
Trin had to make her own choice had held him back. And now to hear that she had
refused to come…

“She
absolutely
refuses?”
he demanded.

“Shhh—not
so loud!” Charlie hissed. “We’re prisoners here. If anyone finds out we managed
to hold on to our communicators we’re in deep trouble!”

“You’re
in prison?” Stavros pushed closer to the viewscreen.

Truth
and Far spoke at the same time.

“How
in the Seven Hells did that happen?”

“Are
you in danger?”

“Not
right now,” Becca said, shoving in beside Charlie so that her face filled the
other half of the screen. “We told them we came from the Goddess so they
are
showing us some respect. I think
they think of us as misguided but possibly teachable.”

“She’s
right,” Charlie said. “They want to convert us.”

“Convert
you?” Truth scowled. “To a religion of fear and shame?”

“Not
to mention a religion of no nookie,” Becca pointed out. “Don’t worry—we’re not
going over to the dark side here.”

“Not
a chance in hell,” Charlie agreed.

“I
still don’t like this.” Far frowned. “Thank the Goddess you were able to hold
on to a communicator when they took you!”

“Good
thing we brought them in the first place,” Becca pointed out. “It’s weird how
this temple is able to block our ability to think-speak to each other through
our bonds. I wonder what kind of stone it’s made of? It’s so
strange.”

“Strange
and very lonely,” Stavros said softly. “I miss you, Charlotte.”

“I
miss you too, honey,” Charlie said. “But we’re not the ones in immediate danger
right now—Trin is.”

“What?”
Thrace
had been shifting impatiently from foot to foot, waiting to hear more news of
the female he loved. Now his worse fears seemed to be confirmed. “I knew it!”
he exploded. “I knew it—what have they done to her?”

“Well,
they gave her a really bad haircut and scratched her up some,” Becca told him.

“Not
to mention they shot her pet horses,” Charlie said softly.

“They
killed Swift and Silk?” Thrace
felt a stab of pain in his heart. “But Trin
loved
those animals! She spoke of them often…talked of riding on their backs and
caring for them since they were young.”

“It
was a pretty bad scene,” Becca admitted reluctantly. “They made her dig a grave
to bury them, too. She was…pretty shaken up.”

“But
not shaken up enough to leave?” Truth asked, raising an eyebrow. “What is she
waiting for?”

“Well,
she feels
guilty,”
Becca said. “Feels
like she deserves all of this—they’ve got her completely brainwashed here.”

“She
thinks loving Thrace
is a sin,” Charlie added. “And she admitted that she still loves him—so she
thinks she’s still sinning.”

Thrace
felt
like he was going insane.

“She
still loves me and
that’s
why she
won’t come to me? Oh, Trin…” He ran a hand through his hair distractedly. “What
are they going to do to her? I have to get to her…I
have
to!”

“Well,
that’s actually why we’re calling you,” Becca said. “We couldn’t get you last
night because there’s no reception in the dungeons. But we’ve been brought up
to a holding cell on the first floor. I think because they want us to see this
ceremony that Trin is involved in today.”

“Ceremony?”
Thrace
felt an ominous twist in his gut. “What ceremony?”

“Well,
it’s…” Charlie sighed. “It’s the Ceremony of Sacrifice. She, uh, has to choose
how she wants to be maimed.”

“What?”
A red curtain seemed to
drop over Thrace’s
eyes and he felt his hands curling into fists. “I’ll kill them,” he growled.
“I’ll fucking
kill them!”

“Watch
out!” he heard Truth say. “He’s going into Rage!”

“Rage?
I thought only Kindred could do that,” Becca remarked, looking alarmed.

“You
thought wrong, apparently,” Far said grimly. He grabbed Thrace by the arm. “Thrace,
listen—going into a killing Rage won’t help us get Trin back!”

“He’s
right,” Becca said from the viewscreen. “Now that they know they have
intruders, the priestesses have sealed the temple up tight. There’s no way
you’re getting in here short of a battering ram or some kind of laser cannon.”

“Neither
of which we have,” Stavros pointed out. He looked at Charlie. “Is there
any
way to get inside?”

“I’m
sorry but not that I can see.” Charlie looked most unhappy. “You know what the
schematics we pulled up showed—the doors in the front are only way in or out.
Well, other than the back door to the garden. But that area’s all walled off
and I think they sealed the back door as well—at least that’s what the guards
who brought us up here were saying.” She sighed. “I just wish I could have
brought my gun!”

“We
went over that,” Far reminded her. “If you had been caught with a weapon inside
the temple and had aimed it at the high priestess, your sentence would have been
immediate death.”

“Yeah,
well they don’t seem to have a problem with aiming guns at other people,”
Charlie muttered.

“She’s
right,” Becca said. “You should see the size of their weapons! You could take
out an elephant with one of them.”

“Weapons
aside, are you really telling us there’s no way to get to you?” Truth demanded
in a low growl. “Because I don’t fucking accept that—Far and I won’t stand idly
by and see you hurt, Rebecca.”

“Honestly,
we’re not the ones you have to worry about,” Becca said.

“She’s
right—we’re mostly worried about Trin right now,” Charlie said, nodding. “The
ceremony is about to start any minute!”

“Gods…Trin…”
Thrace
put the heels of his hands to his eyes and pressed hard, trying to drive back
the panic and Rage he felt creeping over him.
“Trin.”

Stavros
frowned. “Let us think about this. You say there’s no way into the temple
without some kind of heavy weaponry.”

“Right.”
Charlie nodded decisively.

“If
we were to blow the doors open, would the two of you be safe?” Stavros asked, raising
an eyebrow at her. “Could the blast reach you where you are?”

“I
think the ceremony’s going to take place in the inner sanctum so we’d probably
be okay,” Charlie said. “But I thought we didn’t have any kind of equipment
like that?”

“We
don’t,” Truth said. “But the Mother Ship does. We could fold space, get what we
needed, and get back here very quickly.”

“But
not quickly enough,” Thrace
growled. “Not quickly enough to save Trin from being maimed. What…” He took a
deep breath, trying to calm himself. “What did they say they were going to do
to her?”

“She,
uh…” Becca looked intensely uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry, Thrace but she has to decide if she
wants to have a finger or an ear chopped off or…or an eye poked out,” she ended
with a wince.

“Gods!”
Thrace
put his head in his hands, his heart drumming rapidly in his chest.
Oh Trin…oh baby,
he thought, his breath
coming in labored gasps.
My love…my
Mistress. I can’t let this happen to you…can’t sit by and let you be maimed and
tortured like this!

But
what could he do about it?

Suddenly
he knew.

“Thrace?
Brother, are you well?” Stavros touched him lightly on the arm, a look of
concern on his face.

Slowly,
Thrace
nodded.

“Yes,
I am well. Now that I know what to do.”

“What
do you mean?” Far asked warily. “We already said it was hopeless to try to
force our way inside until we go back to the Mother Ship and get the proper
equipment.”

“Nobody
is forcing anything,” Thrace
said. Now that he had made up his mind about this, his heart beat was slower, his
breathing less labored and the red curtain of Rage had receded from his vision.
“I am going to walk in and they will admit me eagerly.”

“What
are you going to do—dress up like a priestess?” Truth demanded.

“That’s
not actually a half bad idea—they
do
have those formless gray robes that hide almost everything.” Far sounded
thoughtful.

“They
can’t hide the fact that none of the Daughters of Zetta grow to be almost seven
feet tall,” Truth said flatly. “Sorry, Brother, but I don’t think subterfuge is
the way to go.”

“Subterfuge
will be unnecessary,” Thrace
said. “They will let me in, knowing exactly who I am.”

“And
how exactly do you think you’re going to manage that?” Stavros asked, frowning.

Thrace
raised
his chin.

“By
telling them the truth—that I wish to take Trin’s place for the sacrifice.”

There
was silence in the ship for a moment. Then Far spoke.

“Actually,
I believe the Daughters of Zetta have a law that pertains to such a custom.
But, brother…you do realize what you will be sacrificing.”

“I’ll
be giving up a part of my body for Trin.” Thrace shrugged. “So? She already
owns my fucking heart—what do I care about losing anything else?”

Truth
made a sound of approval deep in his throat.

“You
may not be Kindred but you act it—we feel the same way about our females. We would
give anything to keep them safe and happy.”

“Truly
the Goddess chose well when she put you and Trin together,” Stavros said
softly. “And I know from personal experience that she rewards sacrifice. I
think you’re doing the right thing.”

“I
know I am.” Thrace
felt a kind of peace now—a calmness had fallen over him like a cool hand
soothing a fevered brow. He looked at Far. “Tell me more about this law and how
I can use it to my advantage. I don’t care what it takes, I’m getting Trin out
of here when this is all over.”

Chapter
Thirty-six

“Stand
here, Defiled One and do not move.”

Trin
stood as she was told, directly in front of the statue of the Goddess of
Judgment. As before, she was naked and the cold breeze swirling around the
cavernous stone room made her shiver.

This
time her shame was not private—apparently Betina wanted the lesser priestesses
to see what would happen to them if they dared to commit the heinous crime Trin
was guilty of. They stood in rows, waiting for the ceremony to begin like guests
at a life-bond celebration. Only instead of two females waiting to pledge their
love and lives to each other, there was only one lone female who had allowed
herself to fall into forbidden love. One who had committed the ultimate sin and
was now about to pay for it.

Far
in the back, flanked by two burly priestesses who were armed with destroyers,
she could see Becca and Charlie standing. Their gray robes had been taken and
they had been given the white robes of visitors instead. Though they were being
guarded, Trin was glad to see they appeared unhurt. They were both staring at
her with worried faces and for a moment she wished she had gone with them while
she had a chance. Wished she could have had the life with Thrace that they offered.

Then
her eyes flicked to the other side of the room where her mother was standing
near the back. She was also wearing a white visitor’s robe and her dark eyes
were hard and unyielding—full of pain and shame. When Trin looked at her, she
stared back coldly for a moment and then looked away, as if she couldn’t bear
to see her only child so publicly disgraced.

Trin
knew, from what her guards had told her that morning, that the recording of
herself and Thrace,
sent from Lady Tam-tam, had made its way to the temple. Everyone from the high
priestess down the lesser priestesses had seen it. Which meant that her secret
was officially out and her reputation was ruined.

Mother probably hates me now,
she
thought sadly.
I’ve disgraced her—ruined
her reputation as well as my own.
Her eyes flicked to Charlie and Becca
again, who were holding hands and staring at her anxiously.
I don’t deserve the life they offered me. Don’t deserve Thrace’s
love or a life of happiness. Not after what I did.

“Now…”
Betina stepped forward, wearing rich black robes and the ugly, ruby encrusted
headdress that made her look like a huge bird of prey. “We are called together
today for a Ceremony of Sacrifice. Let the Defiled One come forward.”

Trin
stepped towards her, head bowed, her arms clasped nervously over her breasts.
She felt as if every eye in the temple was boring into her, as though everyone,
with the exception of Becca and Charlie, was thinking what a horrible person
she was, what a disgrace, what a shameful, disgusting embarrassment to all of
Zetta Prime.

“I
am here, High Priestess,” she said in a low voice. “I am…am ready to make my
sacrifice to the Goddess.”

“Very
good.” Betina gave her a cold look. “Attendants, bring forth the sacrificial
implements.”

Two
lesser priestesses brought forward a small stone pedestal and set it before
Trin. On it were a short, sharp knife, a heavy cleaver and a long silver
needle.

“Choose,”
Betina told her. “What will you give to the Goddess to show your remorse?”

“I…”
Trin’s mouth was suddenly dry, her heart pounding. Though she had been trying
to reconcile herself to the sacrifice all night, now that the moment was at
hand, she felt sick and faint.

I can do this,
she
thought and forced herself to take a step forward, closer to the instruments of
pain and sacrifice.
I have to do this. I
have
to.

Her
hand hovered over the three instruments, pausing first over the needle…then the
knife…and at last settling on the cleaver.

A finger,
she
thought, hefting it in one sweaty palm.
My
little finger on my left hand. It shouldn’t be too hard to chop off. The blade
looks really sharp…

“Stop!”
The voice from the back of the cavernous sanctuary startled everyone—even the
high priestess.

“Who
dares interrupt the sacred Ceremony of Sacrifice?” She looked up, her black
eyes narrowing in anger.

“One
has come who offers to take the Defiled One’s punishment.” It was a greater
priestess speaking—one who was ranked only a step below Betina herself, Trin
saw. She wore the deep purple robe of her station and behind her came another
hooded figure—a huge, silent shape cloaked in scarlet.

All
around her Trin heard the priestesses whispering among themselves.

“A
scarlet robe—a
scarlet robe!”

“It
can’t be! They wouldn’t dare to bring one here—not here to the inner sanctum!”

“It
must be—no other may wear the scarlet robe.”

“But
here
? Before the statue of the
Goddess?”

Trin
had no idea what the scarlet robe symbolized but she could tell from the size
of the figure and the sheer breath of the shoulders beneath the robe that it
could not be female. Not a female from any planet or species she knew, at
least.

“Renish,
what is the meaning of this?” Betina demanded, addressing the greater
priestess. “How dare you interrupt? How dare you bring a scarlet robed one into
the inner sanctum of the Goddess?”

“I
could not help it, Your Holiness.” The greater priestess shrugged. “He invoked
the Law of Transference, saying he wished to take the blame of the Defiled One
upon himself.”

“He—she
said
he!”
ran the whispers through
the ranks of the wide-eyed lesser priestesses. “The greater priestess has
actually brought a
male
into the
inner sanctum!”

Betina’s
eyes narrowed further, her nostrils flared and her lips became a thin red line.
When she spoke, it was with barely controlled rage.

“And
who is this
male
who knows so much about
our laws?”

The
person beneath the scarlet robe threw back his hood and Trin saw him clearly. Thrace.

“It’s
me,” he said simply, looking at Trin. “It’s me, Trin—I came for you.”

Trin
felt as though her heart had somehow lodged itself in her throat and it
wouldn’t go down no matter how hard she swallowed. Thrace…here in the temple…how could
it be? He was wearing his black leather pants and the red cloak but something
else caught her eye as well. The slave collar Lady Tam-tam had given them—the
one with the silvery-blue gems in it—was still visible around his strong
throat. He had never taken it off.

“I…I
told you not to follow me,” she croaked.

He
shrugged, his broad shoulder rolling.

“Forgive
me for disobeying, Mistress, but I had to come.”

“Enough
speech!” the high priestess declared. “Male, you say you wish to take the
Defiled One’s shame upon yourself?”

“I
do,” Thrace
said firmly.

“And
do you understand that the shame requires a sacrifice?”

“I
know that too.” He nodded. “I am fully prepared to—”

“Wait!”
Trin’s mother was suddenly pushing her way to the front of the crowd of
assembled priestesses. “Wait!” she cried again, her eyes flashing. “Are you
actually
allowing
this? This male—he
is the very one who…who defiled my daughter in the first place! He should not
be here no matter what law he invoked—he is
male.
”

Thrace
took a
step forward and looked at Trin’s mother.

“I
know how your people feel about males,” he rumbled. “It’s not much different
from how my own people, the Havoc, feel about females. We take a vow when we
reach maturity never to bond with a female—never to give our hearts and souls
and tie ourselves to one. But your daughter, Trin, overcame my reservations and
my determination not to bond. She did that with her bravery, her loyalty, and her
compassion. She could have let me die in the slave auction at the Flesh Bazaar
but she didn’t—she saved me. For that and for all that she is, I love her and I
belong to her.” He touched his collar briefly. “I am hers and I would do
anything for her.”

Trin
felt like weeping at his speech.

“Oh,
Thrace,”
she whispered thickly. “It’s too much…you shouldn’t have come. I…I don’t
deserve such devotion.”

“Yes,
you do.” He looked at her fiercely. “And I’m here to
prove
it.”

“Disgusting,”
Trin’s mother pronounced before stalking back to her place at the back of the
sanctum. But the assembled lesser priestesses seemed to have been affected by
the big Havoc’s words. The soft murmurs Trin heard from them sounded almost
sympathetic. Several of them had their hands pressed to their hearts and were
looking back and forth between herself and Thrace. Clearly they had never
heard such eloquent, impassioned speech from a male before—or even believed it
to be possible.

“Enough!”
Betina’s voice was steely. “Let us get on with this. You, male—as I was
saying—if you agree to take the Defiled One’s shame upon yourself, you must
offer a sacrifice. Specifically an eye or an ear or a finger of your choosing.”

“I’m
aware,” Thrace
said softly, looking at Trin. “I am more than willing to make the sacrifice if
it will clear Trin of all blame and shame and enable her to live a normal
life.”

“A
normal
life, you say?” Betina gave a
harsh caw of laughter. “There is no normal life for a Defiled One. Not after
everyone
knows
she has been defiled.”

“But
will a sacrifice on my part pay for her sin?” Thrace demanded. “Will you at least
tell her she’s forgiven and absolve her of guilt?”

Betina’s
voice was grudging when she answered. “The rules of the Goddess
do
say that a willing sacrifice pays for
the defilement.”

“Good.”
Thrace
lifted his chin. “Then do it. I’m ready.”

Trin,
who had been unable to make her mouth work during this exchange, finally found
her voice.

“Thrace,”
she whispered. “Thrace,
no.
You can’t do this for me—I won’t
let you.”

He
looked at her, his silver-blue eyes blazing.

“Anything
for you, Mistress,” he murmured. “Anything—even this.
Especially
this. I cannot see you maimed when I can take the hurt
on myself instead.”

“Very
well,” Betina snapped. “Let us get on with the ceremony, then. Bind the male! I
will not take the chance of such a huge animal going berserk at the crucial
moment.”

Trin
watched numbly as two of the lesser priestesses forced Thrace to his knees and cuffed his
wrists together in front of him. The big Havoc made not a murmur of protest and
allowed himself to be shackled without comment, even when one of the
priestesses put a choke-chain around his throat, just above the collar, and
held it like a leash.

“Now,
Defiled One…” Betina motioned at Trin. “Choose which part of your
lover
you will sacrifice and make it
quick.”

“You…you
want
me
to…to…cut…” Trin couldn’t get
the words out. Suddenly the frost around her brain thawed and she realized that
the high priestess must have had this in mind from the beginning. Why else would
she bind Thrace
so that he was incapable of completing the ceremony himself?

“Of
course.” A slow, cruel smile spread over Betina’s face. “You are still the
Defiled One, therefore
you
must make
the sacrifice. Whether it is your own pain you offer or another’s, it matters
not but the stroke must come from your hand. The Goddess
demands
it.”

“I…but
I
can’t.”
Trin’s mouth was so dry she
could barely speak. She had been prepared to lop off her own finger or ear or
poke out her own eye but the idea of doing such violence to Thrace turned her stomach.

“You
must,” Betina declared. “It appears you have chosen to give a finger.” She
nodded at the cleaver Trin was still holding. “Prepare his hands.”

The
priestess holding the choke-chain around Thrace’s throat reached out but he
had already placed his large hands on the small pedestal where the other
instruments of sacrifice were laid.

“Do
it,” he said quietly. “Do it, Mistress.”

Trin
looked wildly at him. “I can’t hurt you like that—I won’t do it!”

He
leaned forward, looking at her intently.

“It’s
all right, baby,” he said softly, for her ears alone. “If this is what they
want in order to clear your name, then do it. I
want
you to.”

“No!”
Trin looked down at the cleaver clutched tight in her sweaty palm. Oh Goddess,
why was she still holding the awful thing? She dropped it quickly, as though it
had burned her and it fell with a ringing clatter upon the stone floor. “No, I
can’t hurt you like that,” she said in a louder voice.

“It’s
the only way,” he insisted.