Handmaiden's Fury (6 page)

I whispered my dedication,
consecrating our actions, beseeching Her blessing.

She answered.

I screamed.

As if I would never stop screaming,
my body shook and trembled of its own accord as waves cascaded through my
flesh. Rydia’s power blossomed and thundered, eradicating all rational thought.
I babbled, whispering things I would never remember later, and laughing,
laughing. Terror and joy and passion, all exploded through me, as if I were
nothing but a vessel, a momentary container encompassing something greater than
I could ever be.

I sobbed.                          

The world grew soft, beautiful.
Everything shined.

A lazy smile drifted across my face.

Ten thousand years drifted by.

“Are you better, sweet one?” He
caressed my head, his touch so tender I could weep.

Aglow with Rydia’s Blessing, I
nestled into him. “Yes, Sire. Thank you.”

He covered me in thick furs, and I
rested against his chest. The rhythmic sound of his breath soothed and sang to
me.

With the fires of passion cooled, I
thought no more about Orin Devariis or his poor, barbarian slave girls. My
thoughts of the family Marklus and why they had tried to kill a temple
priestess all fled. I cared only for the warmth of my Sire’s arms and the
sweet, empty dreams of one who is truly spent.

He held me for the entire night.

“Breakfast, Handmaiden.” Brys awoke
me with his usual aplomb. I blinked against the sunlight and pushed myself up
in bed.

“What time is it, Brys?”

“Morning Bell sounded three hours
ago. The Sire bid me to allow your rest.”

I sat up, not even bothering with
modesty. Brys had seen much more of me than my breasts and had never batted an
eye.

“Thank you, Brys. I’m ravenous.” I
reached for the tray of
fresh fruit, sweet cream, and a still warm pastry delicately arranged on a
glassware plate.

“Ever yours, Handmaiden.” He smiled.

Oh, Goddess.
The p
hypani fruits
were sweet and sticky and exactly what I needed. They burst
with nectar as I bit. I wiped the sweetness from my chin.

Brys was already leaving when Sire
Mattias opened the door.

He was, as usual, all business.

“You have only a few moments, so
don’t dally. I’ve spoken to the Headmaiden’s office, and she wants a full
report on last night.”

I smiled at him, dabbing cream from
the edge of my mouth. “Perhaps now she will listen to your concerns.”

“That’s my hope.” He gave me a
foreboding look. “There’s something not right about all this, something I can’t
quite point to.”

“Is the Headmaiden upset?” I knew it
was possible. My Sire had not exactly asked permission to seek out Devariis.
This wasn’t the first time that Sire Mattias had overstepped his authority on a
gambit, and it was unlikely to be the last. He had little respect for
hierarchy.

“Nothing we can’t handle.” He gave me
a soft smile. “Eat your breakfast and get ready. I’ll be back in a moment, and
we can go.”

My thoughts swam with possibilities
as I finished the sweet cream. Headmaiden Lithia made for an unpredictable
priestess. I had seen her be warm and loving, gentle as the summer sky, but
then I had seen her be harsh as well, brutal as the tundra snows. Able to sense
artifice as if the sweet lie were etched on one’s forehead, she suffered no
trifling.

When we reached her door, he smiled
at me. “Are you prepared, pet?”

I gave him the bravest smile I could.
“Yes, Sire. Where you go, I follow.”

He gave me a rare smile of affection
and opened the door.

Thick carpet, shining marble, and
rare bronzewood filled Headmaiden Lithia’s opulent rooms. The eastern wall made
a bookshelf, filled with all manner of treatises, from books on the human form
like
Corpus Vulgae
to the books on the art of seduction written over a
thousand years before like
The House of Wind and Flowers.
I loved
perusing the books on the occasions which I had the opportunity. The Headmaiden
was proud of her collection and oftentime sent explorers and gatherers to the
far flung reaches of Aelthien simply to gather more.

“Sire Mattias,” the Headmaiden’s
voice dripped like warm honey. She sat behind her great desk with balcony
windows behind her. This morning the pink and golden sunlight shone through,
dancing in her midnight hair.

“Headmaiden.” Sire Mattias took a
knee, and I followed suit.

She stood and walked over to him.

“So formal,” her face held a cat’s
smile.
“Come and sit
with me, Sire.” She gestured to a chair in front of her desk. I stayed where I
was, kneeling on her plush carpet. I would stay there until bid otherwise or
until I collapsed. I had no idea how long the Headmaiden would leave me on my
knee, but that didn’t matter. I had sworn to obedience. If the head of my order
wished me to kneel on her carpets until daybreak, I would do so.

Headmaiden Lithia settled behind her
desk. “Come, have some tea and tell me what your Handmaiden has gotten herself
into.”

My eyes widened a bit at her
phrasing.

Fortunately, Sire Mattias caught it
as well and hurriedly explained, “Keiri hasn’t done anything that wasn’t at my
bidding, Headmaiden. I am sorry if I wasn’t clear about that.”

Headmaiden Lithia pursed her lips and
reached for her silver teapot. She poured and then pushed the pot to my Sire.

“Perhaps you should be clear now,
Sire. Tell me what this is about.”

Sire Mattias took up the teapot.

“I came to you at the beginning of
this year, Headmaiden, concerned about some rumors I had heard.”

Lithia inclined her head.

“At the time you told me that the
resources of the House were stretched too thin to look into the matter.”

“I remember.” Headmaiden Lithia took
a sip. “I remember telling you that this matter wasn’t worth the Houses’
attention.”

“You did.” Sire Mattias’ voice
remained cool. “After long meditation, I decided this matter was worthy of my
attention. We are taught, after all, that only by taking responsibility can we
become strong.”

Lithia’s violet eyes glittered
coolly. She waved a hand toward him. “Carry on.”

Sire Mattias watched Devariis for
months. He had danced with courtesans and wrested secrets from them. He had
played tiles with men who had bought slaves from Devariis. He had attended
galas that the man had held and asked Orin himself where he could buy slaves in
the city.

My Sire had been meticulous, all for
the purpose of discovering if Devariis was selling illegal sex slaves,
particularly human-kin, as that was a strong indicator of sorcery, since
human-kin were often used in dark rites.

Of course, all evidence now showed
that he was trading slaves and practicing sorcery, both grave infractions of
the law.

“If you had evidence, why send Keiri?
Why risk one of the House’s Handmaidens on such a gamble if you already knew
the answer?”

My Sire leaned forward, his hands in his
lap. His dark eyes remained serious, thoughtful.

“Words can be mistaken, Headmaiden.
By sending Keiri, by asking her to use Rydia’s gifts upon the man, I have solid
proof that he is illegally trafficking in flesh and a sorcerer besides. No
authority of the temple would question a Handmaiden’s vision, whereas my…
theories could be misconstrued or dismissed.”

The room fell quiet for a long
moment.

Headmaiden Lithia turned to where I
knelt on the ornate crimson carpet. Her violet eyes chilled like ice. “What did
you see, Handmaiden? Does your vision back up the Sire’s concerns?”

I nodded. “Everything that Sire
Mattias guessed is true, Headmaiden.”

She gestured to a chair, indicating I
should join them at the desk.
Her voice grew soft.

“What was your vision, Keiri?”

My knees ached slightly, but I did my
best to rise graceful. I sat before Lithia and told her everything I’d seen:
Orin slicing open a human-kin girl,
the strange sigils, and the way he licked at the blood.

I shuddered.

By the time I finished, Lithia’s face
had paled. Her hand trembled just the slightest bit as she set down her tea.

“It seems as if you were correct,
Mattias.”

He bowed his head to her. “It is not
for my glory, but the Lady’s, Headmaiden. Wherever such debauchery exists, the
Lady is shamed.”

A long moment passed where we all sat
in silence.

Lithia’s eyes remained cool. “I trust
you will leave further action to me?”

“I will, Headmaiden.” He smiled. “I
hoped you would see that this matter deserves our notice.”

The Headmaiden looked back to me and
changed the subject. “I believe you have a Devoted to settle, dear?”

I nodded. “Yes, Headmaiden. I was
attacked on the way back to the temple. I had no choice but to claim a man.”

Lithia gave me a level stare. “You
should take care. You’ve not had a Devoted yet, have you?”

I shook my head. “No, Headmaiden.”

“You are young yet in the service, I
wouldn’t expect you to collect more than one or two in the next few years. They
require quite a bit of training and attention.” She gave my Sire a glance. “I
worry that Mattias is working you too hard as it is.”

“He takes good care of me,
Headmaiden.”

“I’m certain.” She smiled thinly. “Go
see to your Devoted. I would have a further word with Sire Mattias on this
matter.”

I bowed my head, thanked her, and took my leave of
them both without speculating on what she said to Mattias in my absence.

I stepped purposefully down the maze
of corridors, headed for the quarters of Rydia’s newest Devoted. The unusually
large temple grounds sprawled through the heart of the young city. The worship
of Rydia had inspired those who first settled Stormhaven. The temple
immediately laid claim to as much land as possible, unable to resist the
visions of becoming the dominant religion in the area. The founding priestesses’
ambition paid off. The main temple sat prominently in the town center,
available for worship whenever the faithful required.

Rydia’s servants didn’t live in the
actual sanctuary, as some of the city gossips so often claimed. Our living
quarters spread behind and around the main grounds in the interest of privacy.
Not all who serve Rydia were viewed with acceptance, and those, like Rand, who
had been taken into service forcibly needed some time away from the public
view.

The Devoted we
re a small population that served in
the temple proper. Typically they served the Handmaiden that first touched them
with Rydia’s power, at least initially.

Like the Sires and the Handmaidens,
as the Devoted grew in their training, they expanded their service. They soon professed
that they viewed everyone they meet through Rydia’s eyes of love. They claimed
that they were in love with Rydia Herself, and they were taught how to see Her
beauty and passion in every single person.

Rydia’s Devotion was a sacred
calling. Some prepared for it since youth. Then they came to the temple when
they felt the call to serve.
Most took new names and gave up any family or fortunes for the glory of
Rydia. They cooked and cleaned for us. They attended to the mundane tasks of
record keeping and balancing the treasury. They watched over us and saw to our
every need.
The elder
Devoted proclaimed that their dedication brought peace and love in such
service.
Those elder
Devoted also helped to teach the newest Devoted.

I required years to understand fully
how their every motion was love expressed in physical form.

It was not a glamorous service, but
it was truly necessary. At times, Rydia’s service could be a heavy burden to
bear alone. Many a Handmaiden had whiled away a night in the company of one of
the Devoted, accepting their loyalty. The freedom they provide us could never
be offered by others, and as such, it was precious to us.

Our living quarters were built, as
any castle keep, to withstand attack. The elder Devoted, stationed in the outmost
rooms, provided our first level of defense. Inside their ring, other Devoted
provided the second, while the Handmaidens and Sires lived in the center. In
all of our temples, the bottommost level remained empty for the newest
Devoted’s initial training, while the Headmaiden and her coterie occupied the
uppermost levels.

The newest Devoted who had not
received Rydia’s calling were often former thieves, rapists, and murderers who
attempted to attack a Handmaiden or the temple itself and found that we were not
the helpless whores and gigolos they expected. For these, Devotion made for a
jarring change. As swift as death, that person was gone. Rand might still have
memories of his former life and still speak with his familiar patterns, but the
man he was would never be again.

Rand would have begun with the most
menial of chores and started learning about Rydia from the elder Devoted
through formal training. In his first devotions with me, I would introduce Rand
to such basic concepts as the truth of Rydia’s origins, the Cataclysm, and the
tenets of Rydia’s following: love, passion, flame.

We would work to rebuild the
foundation of Rand’s faith upon the Canticle of Ages as discussed in
Caertiin’s
History of the Known World
and debate the heresies found therein.

Sire Mattias had yet to prepare me
for this responsibility as I remained young in my service.

When I arrived at the lowest level of
the temple, the woman at the desk was unfamiliar. She had long, dark hair and
midnight-blue eyes. She might have been pretty save for the burn scar running
down the edge of her face. The woman made no attempt to hide nor emphasize the
scar. I approved. Normal standards of beauty tended to lose their meaning past
Rydia’s temple doors, a lesson this woman seemed to have learned. She was
lovely.

She spoke with someone outside my
view as I came around the corner. “I assure you, I am quite correct. Your
mistress will sign you in to our service. She will want you to clean her
quarters, including the chamber pot. It does not matter if you think this is
beneath you or woman’s work nor that you don’t even have a basic understanding
of Rydia’s tenets—”

“I just want to hear it from herself!
I deserve that much, don’ I? I’ve done what Brys told me, didn’ I? And just on
his word. I don’ know you from any other doxie, how’m I to know what I’m to
do?” he exploded.

I rounded the corner to find Rand
running his hands through his wild hair, his back to me.

“Rand.” I spoke calmly.

He whirled.

“Mistress!” His relief was palpable.
He dropped to his knees in front of me and stared, glassy-eyed. “You… You are
radiant!”

I realized this was the first time
Rand had seen me in a decent state. Last night I’d slipped away from Orin’s
manse a tangled mess straight from his bed, and the night’s activities had
taken further toll on my appearance. This morning I had prepared myself to see
the head of my order. My hair formed a loose garnet pile on my head. The strap
on my moss green gown slipped down one shoulder slightly while the color made
my eyes appear like emeralds dusted by flakes of gold. The dress molded to my
upper body, plunging down in front, and even lower in back. The ends of the
silk tie that bound it around my waist fluttered around my ankles.

“Rand. Are you not doing as you were
told? What is this confusion I hear?” I asked.

He blinked, dazed. “Wh—what?
Confusion?”

I tilted my head to the woman at the
desk. “The Devoted here—”

“Teren,” she provided.

“—Teren was trying to get you sorted
out to begin your training here, wasn’t she?” I used my stern teaching voice.

“She said you wanted… somethin’ about
cleaning, I don’t remember. I—I just needed to see you, Mistress.” One hand
stretched out and stopped hesitantly, pawing the air near my thigh.

Teren sighed. “The newest ones are
all like this,” she muttered. She cleared her throat and turned to address me.
“Handmaiden, I have quite a lot of paperwork and instruction for you. Since you
were not here, I was trying to move on to instruct Rand in what might be
expected of him when he became belligerent. I don’t think he’s had much
experience in the proper treatment of women nor does he have any idea of the
effort required to maintain a place of this size in the condition you deserve.”

If that were meant as a barb toward
Rand, it completely missed the target.
He remained on his knees before me, mouth agape and starry
eyed as he gazed at my face.
I wasn’t sure he even realized Teren had spoken.

I moved to her desk, ignoring Rand. I
had seen this type of behavior before; if he was going to keep it up, I had to
know how much forethought he had available. Would he continue to gaze at me
from his knees, or would he follow to stay at my side and cater to even my
unvoiced desires?

I sat, sinking into one of the plush
chairs in front of Teren’s desk. She took her seat across from me, and Rand
rose to stand at my left hand. I sighed and snuggled in as if after a long
day’s hard labor and licked my lips. I did it quickly instead of sensuously,
wanting to see if he would pick up on my cues.

He looked around the room a bit and
noticed the pitcher of water on Teren’s desk. Swiftly he moved to pour a cup
and placed in my hand before I could speak.

I granted him a small swift smile. I
had a servant instead of a puppy. Excellent. Now I must turn him back into a
human being.

“Teren, you said you had paperwork
and instruction for me?”

“Oh, yes, Handmaiden. Rand will be
assigned an elder Devoted mentor right away so that he might begin learning to
control his behavior around you. He will be prone to fall into a submissive state
of mind as long as he is near you, and without special training, he will
continue to exhibit the worshipping behavior he was just demonstrating. High
stress situations, particularly perceived danger to you, will force him to be
more active, of course, but unless he receives the training, immediately, he
won’t be of use. If you have a preference of which elder Devoted you would like
to issue the training, I will see if that person is available. Most Handmaidens
try to keep the same trainer for all their Devoted.” She paused, quill in hand
hovering over a stack of parchment expectantly.

I waved her off. “I have no
preference, Teren. Rand is my first Devoted.”

She nodded and shuffled her papers.
“Very well. I will handle Rand. I see he has been temporarily assigned a room
near yours. I’ll clear that and move us down to the bottom floor. Rand will be
available to help move your things this afternoon. There. Sign here please.
Now, I understand he attacked you, is that correct?”

I blinked at her across the papers
she pushed across to me. “Move
my
things?”

“Yes, of course. Rand won’t be able
to tolerate being far away from you for long periods of time. Plus you will be
integral in his training, which happens down here on floor one.”

I sighed, thinking of all my belongings.
My vast clothing collection, the plush draperies, soft cushions, all the dainty
jeweled fripperies and cosmetics would have to be gathered and carefully
packed. It would take days.

“Now we must document the situation
that caused you to claim Rand,” she continued, “so that we may report to the
proper city authorities and clear your authorization to him. That will also
clear the temple in general, and you specifically, of any fines associated with
claiming a Devoted without a permit.” She pushed another paper stack toward me.

I groaned and sank my head into my
hands.