Priestess of the Eggstone (28 page)

I made the mistake of looking at the Priest. He stroked the arms of his chair with his claws, leaving glistening trails of poison. I swallowed heavily. “Each clan has been wronged. But the clan that has been wronged most greatly is Ruskarinatass.”

The Priest hissed in surprise. His fingers stopped dripping poison down his chair.

“Keristass and Risskaratass must recompense Ruskarinatass,” I continued. “Each will give Ruskarinatass the spring that borders their land. And each will give Ruskarinatass twenty drosht.” I glanced at the two complainants. Their crests rose, flushing dark red. Ruskarinatass flushed pale blue. “Keristass and Risskaratass wronged each other. Both agreed to a contract of marriage, both broke that agreement. To end the quarrel, they must honor that contract.” It didn’t matter that the original female was long dead. That was their problem. If I won.

*Interesting,* the Eggstone murmured in the shocked silence following my judgment. *No Sessimoniss would ever have thought of that.*

“Decide.” Kishtosnitass pointed the spear at the Priest.

“They must fight, now. Koresh’Niktakket.” The Priest watched me, his eyes slitted. He proposed a fight to the death between the heads of both clans. The losing clan became slaves, outcasts, if they were not killed on the spot. He wanted the death of one of the most powerful clans of the Sessimoniss.

Kishtosnitass slammed his spear on the floor twice, booming echoes answered. “Choose.” He pointed the spear at the Koresh’Niktakket on his right.

“Sekkitass,” the Sessimoniss said.

“Choose.” The spear pointed to his left.

“Eggstone.”

“Choose.”

“Eggstone,” Ruskarinatass said firmly.

“Choose.”

“Sekkitass,” Risskaratass hissed. His crest was fully raised, a row of bright red spikes on his head adding inches to his height.

“Choose.”

Keristass hesitated. He looked at the Priest, then at the Eggstone in my lap. “Eggstone,” he whispered.

The Priest hissed; his claws scraped over the stone chair.

“So be it.” Kishtosnitass slammed the spear on the floor twice more. “Council has spoken.”

They were bound to my decision. Risskaratass hissed, then subsided, his crest settling back down.

*Neatly done,* the Eggstone said, smug satisfaction in its tone.

Kishtosnitass raised his spear. Council would adjourn when it hit the floor. I would not have another chance. I would have a week locked in the temple, and then I would die. I jumped from my chair to grab his spear shaft.

They hissed in outrage. I had broken protocol.

“This Council is not over.” My knees shook. I was glad the robe and my long dress covered them. I fought to keep my voice steady, as firm as I could possibly make it.

“Decision has been made.” Kishtosnitass hissed. His crest rose, his eyes burned with outrage. What little support I might have had, I would have to win back.

“The end of one pitiful feud,” I answered, picking my words carefully. I had to make them upset, make them think, without raising the blind rage that would get me killed. I lifted the Eggstone, holding it at his eye level. “I hold thousands of centuries of memories of priestesses of your race. Where is your past glory?”

Risskaratass surged to his feet. “We are Sessimoniss. We are great and glorious. You are a weak human. I could crush you without thinking.”

“You could crush me, one small human, yes. But, there are millions, billions of humans. We have an Empire of thousands of worlds. You are a few clans living in the tattered remains of a city built for hundreds of thousands. You have no technology, except the few pieces that remain from a thousand years ago. You have lost knowledge.” I stepped back, where I could look at the entire Council. “You become primitive.”

“Lies!” the Priest rose slowly to his feet, his black robe billowing.

They towered over me, trying to use their height to intimidate. I refused to let them. If I was going to die anyway, I might as well go down fighting.

“Bashnessit,” Keristass hissed.

“Heshk Bashnessit.” I thrust the Eggstone in front of me. “Your god has chosen me, a human. Because you are dying. The Sessimoniss are departing into the dark night of extinction.”

“We are a proud people, with centuries of might and power! We do not die!”

“You wither away, a vine that has destroyed its own roots.” The words came from the Eggstone, flowing from its vast memories. It cared for the Sessimoniss, passionately, and that same feeling filled me, made me want to fight to help them.

“And you would save us, weak human?” the Priest spat, contempt and anger warring in his eyes.

“I would help you save yourselves.”

They waited, holding their anger. Kishtosnitass lowered his spear, watching me. The others subsided, except the Priest.

“You hold yourselves apart,” I said. “You take what you can from others, such as humans, and use it without understanding. Where are your ships? Where are those who know how to fix them? Or fly them? You have a few, but do they truly understand what they do? Humans are weak by themselves, alone, but together they are strong. Learn from them, rebuild your cities, your strength.”

“You would have us become as you, human, weak and pitiful.” The Priest raised one clawed fist.

“No, you would not become as humans. You would become Sessimoniss as you were meant to be. As you were in centuries past, but stronger.” I reached deep for the memories, back thousands of years.

“What would you have us do?” Kishtosnitass spoke.

I knew I couldn’t change them overnight, and probably not in the week I had. I could get them started somewhere, though. I silently asked the Eggstone for suggestions.

*I have been trying for centuries to steal power from Sekkitass. The rituals have changed, very slowly. Sekkitass does not demand blood as often. Start with the priest, remove his power, make him look weak or foolish.*

“How?” I muttered. The Eggstone didn’t have an answer and the Sessimoniss Council waited impatiently.

“You have no answers.” Keristass slammed his spear against his chair.

“End your feuding,” I said. “End challenge by combat. Stop killing each other.”

“You insult our honor!” The Priest hissed.

“You insult Sessimoniss,” I shot back. “You call for the two strongest clans to kill each other, weakening both, so you can grab power for yourself. You care nothing for your people!”

“Only the strong should be allowed to live.”

“Sekkitass weakens you by demanding your blood.” I was really sticking my neck out, making a permanent enemy, but I didn’t really see that it mattered. “Think on what I have said, think on what Sekkitass demands of you.” I looked around at the Koresh’Niktakket of the Council. “Think of what is best for your people and clans. All of them.”

I turned my back, sweeping up the stairs one slow step at a time, trying not to trip over the trailing skirts.

“Council has not been ended,” one of them objected.

I paused, turning to face them. On the stairs I was finally taller. “Council will continue tomorrow at moonrise.” I wanted them to have time to think, to consider my words. I wanted time to find more to give them.

“The Priestess is not permitted to call Council,” Keristass said.

“The law is now changed.” I left them hissing in outrage, walking from the chamber surrounded by my brown-robed escort.

The wind scoured grit from the worn stone of the city, flinging it through the air. I ducked my head, squeezing my eyes to slits. My guards hustled me silently back through the temple to the plain wooden door of my quarters.

I opened it and walked in. The guards locked it behind me.

The lights had dimmed. In the shadows, I couldn’t see anyone waiting. I leaned against the door, knees shaking. I’d taken a big chance at the Council. I’d practically shoved change down their throats. I’d challenged the priest of Sekkitass to his face in front of the Council. Honor demanded he retaliate. I had no idea what he might do.

I pushed away from the door, stumbling to the small altar room. I set the Eggstone on the altar then pulled off the robe, draping it over one end of the skystone block.

“Is this why you’ve brought me here?” I whispered. “Is this why you chose me?”

*I didn’t fully understand the possibilities. I must think.* It shut me out.

I dropped onto the cushion I’d dragged in earlier, shivering in the night chill. The dress I’d borrowed from Estelle was not very warm. I wrapped my arms around myself, too tired to try to find a blanket.

Tayvis appeared in the doorway. I’d forgotten how silently he could move. He carried a bright striped blanket from the bed in the back room. He sat next to me, draping it over my shoulders.

“You look cold,” he said.

I didn’t answer, overcome by sudden shyness. I wanted a chance to talk to him, alone, and now that I had it, I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to say. The gold clusters on his collar scared me, reminding me that I really didn’t know him despite the time we’d spent together on Dadilan.

“Was it that bad tonight?” he asked.

“We have a week before they sacrifice me to Sekkitass.”

“And the rest of us?”

“They’ll find a painful way for you to die.” I pulled the blanket closer. “Unless I can find a way to convince them not to.”

He didn’t answer. He put his hand on my shoulder. It was warm, incredibly comforting. He slid his hand across my back, pulling me against his shoulder. I closed my eyes, very glad he was there.

Chapter Twenty

He was gone when I woke. I rolled onto my back, studying the carvings on the ceiling.

*Do all humans sleep as much as you?*

“Most of them sleep more.” I pulled my bare feet back under the blanket.

Bare feet? I sat up, searching for my boots. They were next to the end of the cushion. Tayvis must have taken them off after I fell asleep. I slid them on. I felt too vulnerable without them, and vulnerable was the last thing I wanted to feel on Serrimonia.

“Breakfast,” Tayvis announced, setting a tray on the altar of skystone.

“She tends to bite in the morning,” Jerimon said, beyond the door. “At least until she’s been fed.”

Tayvis crossed his arms. “Couldn’t you have picked someone less annoying as your copilot?”

Jerimon stuck his head in the door. “I heard that.”

“Both of you just go away.” I scrubbed my hand through my hair, grimacing at the grit. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to take a long bath. My stomach growled.

“Some things don’t seem to change much.” Tayvis grinned.

I would have thrown something except I didn’t have anything throwable handy. And I didn’t really want to throw anything. I wanted him to sit and talk to me. I didn’t know what I wanted to say. I didn’t want to think about dying soon, sacrificed to a stone god on a planet far away from civilization. I hunched my shoulders, wanting time to sort out my conflicting emotions.

“Go away,” I said.

Jerimon left. Tayvis gave me a searching look before following Jerimon. I heard his voice, a deep murmur in the other room.

*Are they fighting over you or is there some other meaning to their behavior? Are they posturing? You humans have strange physiology. You must explain to me.*

“The Sessimoniss are the ones with the weird biology.” The tray held fruit, and more of the ubiquitous gray grain.

*Your rituals are most bizarre. Why do you have so few memories of them? You are past the age of mating and marriage.*

“Because humans do things differently.” The fruit was tart but juicy. “Why are you so interested in mating behavior?”

*Because it is the root of a civilization. All Sessimoniss status is based on a clan’s population. Only large clans with great resources can afford many breeders and non-breeders, either slaves or delayed maturing young. A clan may gain allies and status through marriage agreements. Do not humans do the same? There are stories of such things in your memories.*

“Sort of. But only among the rich. Most humans, as far as I know, marry for love.”

*What is love?*

I didn’t have an answer, I wasn’t sure myself. I sucked on a piece of fruit.

*Do they posture for you to gain this love?*

I ignored the Eggstone. It rummaged through my memories.

“Stop it.” I tried to push it out. It didn’t work. The bond between us had grown too strong.

*Why do you not share?*

“Because I don’t know, and it’s private.”

Jasyn stuck her head in the door. “Is everything all right? You were talking to yourself.”

“No,” I said crossly, “I was talking to the Eggstone.”

“Then I’ll leave you two alone,” she said and left.

I looked down at the remains of the breakfast tray. I wanted a bath, and clean clothes. No, I really wanted off the planet. In one piece.

The Eggstone picked through my mind. I found the memories of all the romantic vids I’d watched and romance novels I’d read and let the Eggstone have them. Maybe they would keep it occupied for a while. I picked up the blanket and went to try out the bath.

Jasyn had rigged a blanket over the doorway to the bathroom to give some illusion of privacy. I went in and filled up the basin.

The water was lukewarm, not warm enough to really feel good but not so cold that I couldn’t stand it. I rinsed out my clothes while I washed myself, wishing I had something clean to put on. All I had was my dress. It clung, wet and chilly against my skin.

The late morning sun poured down the shaft into the courtyard. I lay on the stones, spreading my skirts around me. The sun’s heat was intense, the stones warm. The water spouts around the courtyard gurgled and poured water over the lush plants. I stared into the turquoise blue sky of Serrimonia. I had to figure out what I was going to do that night, at the next Council session, provided they didn’t kill me before then.

Jasyn backed into the courtyard, dragging one of the couches. Tayvis pushed the other end through. Jasyn made him shift it around the courtyard until she was satisfied. They went back for another couch, Jerimon trailing them in. They set one near the far wall, the one unbroken by any doorways. The other went in front of the wide arch of the entryway.