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Redemption Song, by Armond Author's note: Gale's song at the end of the story is modified from a poem by the mystic poet Mirabai, translation Robert Bly. *** 1. Late Fall "So honored one, do you wish this creature? The Arch Priestess thought you and your brother might need another beast of burden, perhaps?" The ruddy-skinned guard shifted in the seat of her wagon to turn away from the cold north wind, her heavy gray cloak flapping about her. Meg squinted at the figure huddled on the ground next to the wagon. "She's naught but skin n' bones, more dead than alive if you ask me. And why is her head shorn?" "Lost its appetite after the sentencing. But we jam food down its throat now and again. Its head is shaved so that it won't get fleas. So do you want it or no?" The elderly woman hobbled nearer to the figure that lay in the dust. "What will happen to this one if I don't take her?" "South, to the copper mines, or maybe a Port Town brothel, who knows?" This was supposed to make her feel better? Her ambitious Under Priestess had kicked Meg out of her office of Arch Priestess, and then the woman has the gall to send a convicted criminal slave as a peace offering? Meg shook her head at the idea - what was Miriam teaching in the Temple these days? Who could truly believe that such would please the goddess? Dark times. She looked so young to Meg. What could she have done to deserve this? Murder? "What's her crime? Does the so-called Arch Priestess expect me to redeem her?" "Miriam has worked wonders, ex-Arch Priestess, if you have doubts, ask this one. If it could speak, such a tale it would tell. But Redemption? For this scum? There can be no redemption for it." The female warrior said. She spat downward, hitting the girl in the face. 'Why bother?' Meg thought . What did she have to do with the girl's punishment? Surely she'd done something truly foul. What Jacob would say. He was in the lower pasture, and would not be back for hours. Meg started to say no and be done with it, when a small voice spoke deep in her. She had been Arch Priestess of the Temple of the Moon for decades and passed judgment on many dark souls - couldn't she at least look at this one before she let her pass on to some dismal end? Couldn't she do a quick soul sense? Meg grabbed the girl's grimy face and peered into her eyes, the gateway to the soul. She prepared to ram her perception through but found no need, for there was no resistance. Soul sensing was not mind reading, but rather a deep empathetic divining, and what she sensed from the psyche of this one was a shattering; literally, she was a broken vessel ...or hollow? Blues, greens and purples flashed in Meg's mind, like shards of glass... This soul must have been beautiful when it was whole. But ...where were the stains of evil that should be there, the black areas? Meg pushed her perception deeper and felt fragmented pangs of fear, hurt and even bleak despair, but ...no sickness. An image formed in her mind's eye - a tiny brown bird, a nightingale, lying upon muddy ground, with dark red blood from a wound pooling beneath it. Barely breathing. Meg blinked as her blue-gray eyes as her consciousness snapped back to her mind. Something was wrong here. She held her palms out and open and felt a strong tingling. Years of working with the higher arts told her that tight bands of immensely powerful magic encircled the girl. Stunned, she stepped back a pace to regard the girl again, gaunt, and shivering, dressed in dirty rags, with deep set hollow eyes. "Well?" the guard asked impatiently. Meg sighed wearily. Had she energy for this? Why couldn't the world let Meg die in peace, it had discarded her easily enough. But by the goddess, she had seen... "I would keep this one, to see if she may be of use." Meg had no idea what her brother would say of this new addition to their household, a dangerous juvenile slave, apparently. "As you wish, priestess." The guard leaned forward in the wagon to place the girl's leash into Meg's creased hand. "It responds to dog commands. It is not latrine trained." The guard raised her hand in the goddess salute. "Fair thee well, honored one." Meg watched her shake the reins of her horse team and turn the wagon west, toward the Temple of the Moon. Three days hard riding, if the weather minded itself. She looked again on the crumple girl and shook her head. 'What could this mean?' She was tired now, but soon she would investigate perhaps? For the first time in many moons, Meg was intrigued. Movement from the sky caught her eye: snowflakes. A soft wet snow began to fall, and would soon cover the lonely farm in white. "We've not much time, come!" Meg commanded, and tugged the leash. "To the well. You reek of excrement." *** 2. Winter Solstice "Girl?" Where have you got to? Light is precious today and there's work to be done!" Jacob had fetched Meg to wake the girl when she had not shone up for breakfast. He was so funny, a man his age too shy to rouse the lass himself. Jacob had begun to act like a protective father and worried at her absence. Meg had taken to her too, in spite of herself. The girl had been little trouble since her arrival, once her hygiene issues were resolved. The care the elderly brother and sister showed the little one snapped her out of her daze and she began to function again, though she spoke nary a word. She was even becoming useful on the secluded farm She called a few more times, but the girl failed to appear. Meg limped across the frozen ground to the barn, and opened the door a crack. "Child?" She smelled her before she saw her, a dank blood odor. Meg opened the barn door wide to let in the white morning light, and saw her curled up in the yellow straw, clutching her legs. "What the matter, lass?" "I bleed." Meg started at the soft sound of the girl's voice, her first spoken words since she had arrived. Meg knew instantly the problem - it did not take a priestess to figure it out. "It's your moontime, lass? Why didn't you tell me? I'd have had a loin pad ready, though I haven't had to use one in years. "I bleeed!" she moaned, which to Meg sounded more surprise than pain. Meg squinted to see the girl; her short cropped black hair contrasted the red flush of her face. She was ...embarrassed? "Why act so, girl? It's not as if this is your menarche, a girl your age? You have had these before. I will help you. Go wash and put on clean clothes. I'll sew something together. Then go help Jacob walk the sheep to the high pasture. Exercise will do you good." "Thank you, ma'am." 'What a wonder,' Meg thought. Though it was the coldest, darkest day of the year, those simple words from that soft voice made Meg's heart vibrate bright warm as she hobbled back to the farmhouse. *** 3. One week past Imbolic Rain beaded on her black silky hair, the drops glistening from the yellow candlelight of the farmhouse. "Ma'am?" A soft soprano voice asked. "I am done." Meg looked up from the brownish-yellow parchments spread before her - her journals from her Arch Priestess days. She had avoided them for two years, ever since she had been forced out of office by Miriam. Meg wanted to remember now - some seedling had sprouted in her soul these past months, she couldn't fathom why ... perhaps Imbolic, Spring's first stirrings? Maybe enough time had past for the bitterness to fade? Or maybe it was the girl... who knew? She had a feeling, though, that something was coming, and she needed to be ready. "Bellah and Roc are in their stalls and have been rubbed down? The chickens in their coop with feed?" The girl nodded 'yes'. "Good girl. Go clean for supper. And do something with your hair! It looks like birds are nesting in it. I've never seen a girl so pretty that cared so little for her looks! Hurry, Jacob is cleaning up and will be ready soon. Don't make him wait at the table." The girl nodded 'yes' again and started to leave, but Meg stopped her: "One more thing - Jacob and I grow weary of calling you 'girl.' I don't care what crime you did, you ought to be named! Even the animals are named! Since you will not speak yours, I've ciphered a new one. It came to me by dream a week ago - I'll call you 'Gale'" "Ma'am?" "Yes?" "Why ...Gale?" "As I said, it came in a dream, about a nightingale. I thought to call you Nightin, but settled on Gale," Meg said, smiling. "Do you wish another, or to tell your birth name?' The girl responded as always - head down, frustrated voice: "I cannot." "Then it is settled. Now, go, Gale of the Twigs In Her Hair, get cleaned up, or you will be known as Gale the Hungry tonight." The girl nodded, but hesitated. "Ma'am?" Her hazel eyes were wide and wet. "Yes?" "Thank you ...for ..." Unable to say more, she gave the hazel-eyed doe look that Meg had become so accustomed to these past weeks, then turned and ran out the door. Meg wondered for the thousandth time what wrong that tender girl did to deserve enslavement. She heard a noise and saw Jacob standing in his doorway, clean-shaven and fresh shirted. "If ...Gale ...could harm a flea, then I am High Priest of the Temple of the Sun!" he said, verbalizing the sentiment. "So you heard? You like the name?" He gravely bobbed his bald head up and down. "It certainly fits. Today, I spied her in the high pasture as she watched the sheep - I took a short cut through the forest and she didn't know I was near - and I saw something odd and wonderful." "What, dear brother, did you see? Did our Gale have some secret lover meet her there?" "No, no lover," Jacob answered in his slow thoughtful way, completely missing Meg's sarcasm. What I saw was ...Gale surround by a flock of nightingales." "Surrounded? In what way? Had she disturbed their nests?" "Not at all. They were ...singing to her, I think." "Singing to her?" "Yes," Jacob said, stroking his gray-bearded chin. "And she was both laughing and crying." "Singing to her? You are sure?" "Definitely. Dozens and dozens of songbirds, singing together. To her." *** "Come sit with me by the hearth, Gale," Meg said when she saw that the girl had finished cleaning the kitchen. Jacob had long since retired to his bedroom for the night. After her talk with him, Meg resolved to do something she had avoided since she had left the Temple. She would use her goddess craft. The black haired girl sat down cross-legged in front of Meg, her hemp pants drawing up to show smooth calves above her soft leather boots. A crackling fire warmed her back. "Now wait here while I fetch something." Meg said, hobbling to a chest that stood in the far corner of the living room. The lid popped open as Meg unfastened its latch, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Meg rummaged in it for a moment, then stood again, with a tarnished brassy bowl in one hand, and a sanded, thick wooded stick in the other. She walked back to where the girl sat and slowly lowered herself to the floor; her joints popping as she did. "O but I'm getting too old for this. Now ...relax, there is nothing to fear here," she said, when she saw the worried look on the girl's face. "Just stay still and take deep breaths." Meg began to rub the outside rim of the rune-covered bowl, making slow steady circles. Soon, it emitted a bell like hum that grew louder with each circle the elderly woman made. As the hum grew, sound waves washed over the girl, and about her head and body, an aura formed, sparkling, green, then blue, then bright purple. 'Holy goddess!' Meg's hand faltered at the fiery display, causing the hum and aura to fade. No ordinary magic this, but the energy of the goddess Herself. Meg had used such high magics only once as Arch Priestess: a woman, sick in mind and having murdered her husband and child, came to Meg for help. The woman feared that even if she were locked in prison, she might kill again. She begged Meg to end her life. This Meg could not do, for the worship of the goddess forbade it. Meg did help the wretch - through the goddess's power, Meg turned her into a doe, and set her free to roam the highlands. Meg remembered well the brilliant aura that surrounded the woman as she was transformed. It looked just like the aura surrounding the girl, only the girl's was much brighter. "Poor thing! What has been done to you? Who are you or ...what were you?" The girl shook her head helplessly "I cannot say..." *** 4. Late Spring. In the blink of an eye, things change, Meg observed. For now instead of the tending to the lonely peaceful business of Jacob's farm, she sat in a wagon heading east speeding towards the Temple of the Moon. Several nights ago, a knock came to their farmhouse door, a trio of Moon Temple Guards with dire news: early last winter, the sacred altar fires of the Moon Temple turned from golden yellow to black - and the ancient prophecy was on the brink of coming true. As any child of their island knew, the goddess gave this land to the people as a showing of her love. But, it was long foretold, if the altar fires of the High Temple of the Moon burn soot black for seven days, She has deserted them and their doom would follow - plagues, famine, invaders and finally the sea itself would rise to swallow them. Arch Priestess Miriam had been able to turn the fires from black to gold by working the purification ritual, but the effects were only temporary. The blackness returned, and each following purification proved harder to do and lasted shorter in time. The worst news they saved for last - at the beginning of the week, another cycle of blackness began, and as Miriam was attempting the purification, she collapsed before the altar. Though the Temple healers tried all, Miriam died from the strain. Meg was called back to the Temple and drafted back into action. She insisted the girl accompany her - though she preferred to leave her with Jacob to help on the farm, Meg sensed that she was somehow bound up at the core of this matter. So to the road they flew, the three elite Moon Temple warriors, the crone who used to be Arch Priestess and would have to be so again, and a girl who had committed some unknown crime, who could barely manage to utter a few halting words, and who birds flocked to. Meg knew it must frustrate the warriors to have to travel so slowly when the world hung in the balance. Meg, though, was in her seventieth year of life, and there are certain things you give up with age, like riding a saddled mount. If Guardswomen were bothered, they were professional enough not to show it - the lieutenant, Jules, a big brown-headed woman, whose husband, Meg recalled, was a blacksmith, took it all in cheerful stride. Jules looked entirely capable of slinging her husband's heavy anvils about with difficulty. Meg did not remember the other two guards, Ona and Sheala. She reckoned the lean blond twins must have joined the Guard since she had been gone from the Temple. The three wore the traditional riding uniform of the Moon Temple Guard, purple riding cloaks, bright chain mail, leather pants and boots and hair fixed into a single long braid down their backs. Ona, and Sheala, both excellent trackers, took turns riding ahead to seek the rest of the company. Troubling reports had begun to trickle in from all parts of their island, so Sasha, Captain of the Guard, had sent teams east, south and north to gather news of all that was happening. Their rendezvous was a spot some distance ahead. Jules cheerfully took the task of patiently pushing the creaking old wagon (and creaky old priestess) to travel as fast as possible. Meg heard Ona's warning whistle from a distance. "They are near," Jules confirmed. Soon Meg could make out other mounted figures, eight ...no nine, counting one standing alone atop a nearby hill. That one suddenly spurred her mount, and came galloping towards them, copper red braid flying straight behind her, the sun sparkling off her golden chain mail shirt and polished shield that was fastened to the side of her saddle. The dashing rider, Meg knew, was Sasha, Captain of the Moon Temple Guard, unsurpassed in bow, lance and sword, decorated for valor and bravery many times. Meg whooped and waved at the dashing figure, as Sasha halted her charging steed in front of the wagon. "Greetings, Arch Priestess. Captain Sasha at your service," she said, bowing her head in respect. Meg was silent a moment - it just now sinking in that she was, indeed, the Arch Priestess again. Then she turned to the girl beside her. "What do you think, Gale? What do you think of our Captain Sasha?" The petite girl stood in the wagon, looked upon at the warrior woman with sun glittering on her armor, and spat, hitting Sasha on her cheek. Meg was too shocked to utter a word. Sasha, though, coolly wiped the spit from her cheek saying: "Ah! ?Gale' you are now called? Well then, Gale, I see you remember me!" *** The company had stopped for the evening in a spring green meadow beside a babbling stream. Though they desperately wished to ride straight through to the Temple, the horses demanded rest. The Guardswomen quickly set to the work of setting up camp, unsaddling and caring for the horses and starting a cook fire. Meg had been stunned by the girl's reaction to Sasha - it was the first anger she had seen her. Meg used a sleep charm on her, and now the girl lay fast asleep and curled up in the back of the wagon - Meg needed to know what it meant, and she could not risk the girl panicking or running or causing other trouble. Sasha had approached the wagon at Meg's beckoning and had been briefing the older woman on their reconnaissance. "...that sums it, Arch Priestess, a sickness has beset Port Town, with hundreds falling ill each day, the drought in the highlands has continued since late fall and worsens day by day. The spring wheat is dying and soon livestock will too. And to the east, the Brothers from the Temple of the Sun report a fleet of north men gather across the channel, their numbers terrifyingly large." "This may be the end of days, granddaughter, tomorrow will be the seventh day the altar burns black." She grew silent and looked at the horizon and setting sun. Meg removed a woolen blanket from her pack and covered the sleeping girl. Meg listened to her gentle breathing for a moment. "Tell me, Sasha; tell me the story of you and Gale." "Now? After the ill portents you have just heard? Perhaps we should discuss matters of higher priority, Arch Priestess?" Again Meg heard cold formality ring in the Captain's voice; she had always called her Meg, or grandmother, but never priestess, even when Meg had been Arch Priestess before. Meg had been a second grandmother to Sasha at the Temple - it was Meg who had encouraged the striking red head to apply to the Moon Temple Guard, the renowned female corp. None was prouder than Meg when Sasha was elevated to Captain at the age of twenty and five. So why this distance? "Sasha, the Temple burns black and all is knotted! I must have every scrap of knowledge to set things right. We cannot travel again until morning. Sit with me," Meg removed another blanket from her pack and placed it on a patch of spring grass. She patted it for Sasha to join her. "Tell me the story, granddaughter." Sasha unbound her riding braid and shook free its coils. She took an ornate golden hair clasp from a belt pouch, pulled her waste length hair behind her head again, and re-clasped it. A dusk sun gave her hair a glow of burnished copper. Sasha looked again at the girl. "So small!" With a quick shake of head, she sat next to Meg. "It is not a story I wish to tell, for in the end, I am the villain. But," Sasha shrugged her shoulders, "as we travel no more until the morrow, I shall do as you command." "...On Samhain eve and the Temple of the Moon was marking the holiday with all appropriate ceremony..." ?How I've missed the Samhain festival,' Meg mused. She deeply revered the holy day, for it was then the wall between living and spirit world was thinnest, and mortals wore hideous masks to ward away evil spirits. At the festival, the Temple Sisters, lords and ladies from the nearby capitol city and visitors near and far came to eat harvest fare, and drink frothy autumn ale; to dance, sing, and praise the goddess for the passing year and for the one to come. "The 'glorious' troubadour," Sasha continued, her voice resonating disdain, "Orlando of the Highlands, arrived to sing his lais and to make the girls swoon. Although masked, who could not know him? It made the night even more mysterious to hear his velvet voice crooning of love but issuing from his ghoulish mask. Of course, his devil mask was one of a kind - nothing but the best for Orlando." "As evening waned, he traded lute for harp, and sang the Lai of the Rossignol, his famous nightingale song. Unlike the gaudy tavern ditties he sang of late, this I adored, for it was of pure longing for the goddess. Afterwards, I sought him to thank him for the beauty of it. Suddenly, he raised both his mask, and mine, and kissed me! Since, I'd a handfasted lover, Tanya, I swiftly responded by a kick to his groin. We howled as the great lover clutched himself on the ground." "Later, I was separated from my Tanya in the crush of the crowd. As she returned alone to our apartment, she was attacked - a man dragged her into the dark of an alley and brutally raped her there. She died from her injuries." "Oh dear, I'm so sorry!" Meg exclaimed, reaching to embrace hug Sasha, who did not return the elderly woman's embrace. When Meg felt her coldness, she pulled away. "Before she died," Sasha continued, "she said her attacker wore a demon mask. Orlando's. He was lucky he was not near, for I'd have cut off his balls then and there. The next day my warriors set out into the countryside with fury. Quickly they found and dragged him to the Temple." "The trial began at once - my guards and I demanded it - and Arch Priestess Miriam presided. I testified, of how I spurned him. Of how Tanya died in my arms, her last words were of an attacker in a demon mask. I named Orlando as the only one at the festival with such a mask." "What said Orlando?" Meg asked incredulously. She, too, had heard his goddess inspired lay of the nightingale and could not believe that one who sang such beauty could do this evil. "He denied it, saying he would never force a woman to bed him, he never had need for such a thing; all women came most willingly. His arrogance still grates! The mask, he allowed, was lost during the evening, though how he could not say. Finally, he gave an alibi, naming a lover that would surely account for him during the hour of the rape." "Did she?" Meg asked. "No. Miriam had the townswoman he named brought to the Temple, where she completely denied his story. Miriam had heard enough. She pronounced him guilty, saying it was clear to all that Orlando's conceit and ego could not bear my rejection of him, spurring him to this twisted act of revenge." "Miriam granted me the right to sentence him - which I did with pleasure - and Orlando's punishment began that very night." "He was sentenced to prison, then?" Miriam asked. Sasha paused to listen to the sounds of the approaching dusk, her guards working at the fire, a breeze rustling through meadow grass, a lark calling in the distance. She took a breath and continued: "Prison would have been the humane punishment, yes," Sasha said coolly, "but I wanted more - eye for an eye - he'd taken my Tanya, my all, so I wanted all from him - his name taken, his arrogant air ripped away, his very manhood obliterated! I wished him to know the fear that Tanya felt, and as I suffered watching the light dim in Tanya, so I wished to see Orlando's eyes grow dark. Above all else, I wanted his songs ... O yes! If joy he found in singing, then I wanted him silenced!" Sasha went quiet for a moment, her eyes jade green eyes glittering in the setting sun. She continued in a low voice. ?Miriam told me it would be as I wished, and ordered him brought to the Temple altar." "That is Sacrilege!" Meg shrieked in anger, "No man may see Her holy of holies! It is death!" "Miriam felt what she was going to do would not violate that law. For she had him bound and blindfolded, and...a ?man' did not leave the sanctuary." Sasha answered vaguely. "Blindfolding is not the point! It is the presence of the man that ...wait! What do you mean 'a man didn't leave'? How so? Unless ..." A horrible thought occurred to Meg. "When you said ?manhood taken' I thought you meant castration, which would have been horrible enough. But Miriam didn't invoke the power of the goddess to turn Orlando into..." Meg looked towards the wagon where the girl slept and then back to Sasha. "Goddess! Tell me Miriam did not so abuse the goddess's power!" "I was there!" Sasha answered, showing passion for the first time in the conversation, "Miriam spoke words before the goddess statue, and a great vibration answered, showering down waves of energy. Everything burst with sound, forcing us to cover our ears and close our eyes. When we opened them, ?he' was gone, and ?she' lay on the altar." "Wait a moment ...wait a moment..." Meg whispered, her mind reeling. "you and Miriam used the goddess's' power to take his name, his nature and ...his ... his gender?" "And his music. Most of all, I wished for that." Sasha paused, looking towards the wagon where the girl lay sleeping. In low tones, she continued: "Over the following days, we ...my guards and I ...had our sport with her - Orlando. We had great fun clothing her as harlot. Her sanity hung by a thread, but we cared not. In fact, our game was to see which of us could push her to madness; we made bets..." "Her mind did snap. She stopped eating and sleeping; she soiled herself she drooled. We ceased thinking of her as human. It was then she was sent to you as a farm animal." "Oh my goddess, this may be the root of all troubles!" "It gets worse." Sasha answered, her voice cold again. "Worse than Sisters being raped and killed? The Temple defiled by a man? An abomination worked on Her holy altar? The very power of the goddess used for personal revenge and torture? " Meg screamed now, her face red. "How could it be worse?" "About three months later I think, another ...horrible attack ...happened near the Temple, another Sister raped, but this time, my guards heard the scream. They caught the bastard before he could escape. And ...he wore a demon mask - Orlando's. ?He' was the Temple stable master, newly hired when the old master passed on. He confessed to all, to attacking the Sister, and my Tanya. As we looked further into his life, we found he had a history of such evil. But Orlando ...was completely innocent." "I knew it!" Meg exclaimed. "But what of the townswoman's testimony?" "When she was again brought before us, she admitted her lie. She had not wished her boyfriend to know she'd been untrue." " "Are you finished?" "Quite," was Sasha's dispassionate answer. "Thank you, Captain. That is all." "You would judge me, Meg? That I did wrong, there is no doubt, but when I did, it seemed we had sentenced the evil one and the goddess herself approved." "What has happened to you, Sasha? You have become cruel! Your heart is frozen in ice! It saddens me to see you thus." "My heart turned to ice? I lost my beloved to a twisted animal, priestess, how else should I be? I might say the same of you when Miriam replaced you! So you lost a power skirmish to Miriam ...Did you stay to fight on and gain your office back? Where were you when I needed you, when the Temple needed you? Hiding on your brother's farm!" "You are dismissed, Captain." Sasha started to say further but stopped herself. After a moment, she stood, bowed stiffly to Meg, and walked back to the cook fire. *** Meg sat in silence, considering all Sasha had told. Then she walked to the wagon to look on Gale ...no ...Orlando the Troubadour! 'Gale' had seemed such a goddess given name for the lass, but now she knew her birth name - poor Orlando! What Sasha and Miriam had done was monstrous, and yet ...how could it have happened without the will the goddess? He was innocent, but had he used the talent the goddess given him wisely? In a way that mattered? All seemed unfair, yet who can truly know Her mind? Meg shook her head. "Wake up, lass, I smell a stew cooking!" Meg touched her index and middle fingers to the girl's forehead, and she begin to stir under her blanket. "If you don't hurry it will all be eaten." "Yes, ma'am," She yawned, first stretching her arms above her head and then pulled her dark curly hair from out of her face. The girl sat up, surprised to see the sun already setting. Meg saw her confused look. "You slept several hours, child." Meg took the girl's hands in her own. "Forgive me. I had no idea that they...that you were...are...Orlando." The girl's eyes widened at those last three syllables "You know!" "Aye and I also know you are innocent of any crime. I wish I'd known some of this when you were sent to me so I could have helped you through ...O goddess ...so many difficulties." Meg shook her head, "Too wrapped up in my own selfish bitterness... You must have anger and confusion all locked in you! Cannot you speak of it at all? " The girl looked helplessly at Meg, "I cannot." "I'm sorry if my speaking of this brings pain, but I did not know till now." Meg gently raised the girl's face up with her hand. "Why cannot you speak? Tell me so I may help." "I want to ...I want to..." Meg watched the girl's face go taught with tension; an internal struggle was occurring, as if some invisible hand was stopping her very tongue from forming the words she would say. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I cannot say." "And your songs? Your music? That too is silenced?" "I cannot! I cannot! I cannot!" she moaned in agony, grabbing on to Meg's cloak. "Help me!" How terrible, Meg thought, to give your life to song and then be cruelly silenced! She glared at Sasha as the warrior worked about the cook fire. "Patience, lass," Meg soothed, stroking the lass' silky hair. "I will help as I can. I know not what will be, but all is possible through the goddess. Tomorrow ...in the Temple ...we will see." "Thank you, ma'am." "Please stop calling me ma'am. It's Meg, if you must be formal, or if you would, I'd be honored if you'd call me grandmother." "Thank you ...grandmother." Meg warmed at the tender sound in that last word. She felt the power embedded in its tone, and how it pierced her heart. The girl's voice held magic for certain. What did the goddess intend for this one? She shook her head, reminding herself as she always did, that the plans of the creatrix were not for the keening of mortal minds. "Enough talk; come, let us hurry before they hog all the stew!" *** The talk around the cook fire was somber that evening, as it had been every night of their ride. The fear that the ancient prophecy might be coming true made all wish to be with family and loved ones rather than on the trail. All conversation died when Meg and the girl walked to the cook fire. Meg let the awkward silence stand only long enough for the two of them to receive a generous helping of steaming rabbit stew, made pungent by wild herbs collected along the day's ride. Once she made sure the lass had eaten enough, Meg stood. "I want to introduce someone to you." All chewing stopped and eyes focused on the gray-haired and gray-eyed woman. "This is Orlando; though you knew her by another face... you knew her well, for you wronged her mightily. Sisters, we are ever reminded by our goddess to live in humility. To do otherwise is to build walls between our souls and Her presence." Meg continued, her voice ringing strong and clear into the fading evening light. "I know not what tomorrow brings. If it is the will of the goddess that we die, then we die. I tell you, though our land by in peril to north and south and east, and though black smoke pours from the altar fires of our high temple to the west, our test of spirit is now and here. Who among you is brave enough to ask forgiveness? Is there not one?" After an eternity of deafening silence, Jules rose and walked directly in front of the girl, who sat cross-legged and staring into the orange flames of the fire. "I was wrong, lass, to treat you as I did. Even had you been guilty, what we did would have made us no better." The big woman fell to the ground before the wide-eyed girl, touching her head to the ground. "Please forgive..." The girl's hazel eyes glistened in the fire light. She heard the tone of sorrow and remorse in Jules's voice and was moved. She tried to speak, but after a moment of struggle, she simply reached out and stroked the big woman's ruddy face. Ona and Sheala asked forgiveness next, followed by the other members of the Guard one by one, until only Sasha remained to approach the girl. Sasha stood from her seat at the fire and crossed her arms. "This is folly! Begging forgiveness? Will that make the Temple fires burn gold again? Saying I'm sorry? Will that bring Tanya back?" Sasha demanded, in a high-pitched voice. "As touching as this is, it has been a long day, and we start again at morning's first light. I suggest...no, I order all of you, to rest. We will surely be tested tomorrow and will need all our strength." With that, the fiery redhead walked across the camp to where she had placed her saddlebags, withdrew a woolen blanket from a side pouch, and lay upon soft ground beneath a cottonwood tree. *** Sasha slept fitfully, and woke in the heart of the night. She listened to the quiet sounds of the camp for a moment, crickets nearby, an owl hooting in the distance, and heard a sound of movement from the campfire across the camp. ?Who could be up at this hour' she thought, and made her way towards the figure huddled near a dying fire. She saw that it was the girl, shivering. "Why are you shivering? It is nearly High Spring." "I am cold." "You should be sleeping. Tomorrow will be a trying day, there may be dangers. We must all be well rested. When the Guard is bivouacking in the winter, we often pair up to keep warmer at night. Perhaps you could sleep next to Meg and get warm." "I ...no..." "Oh? Is the great Orlando too proud to lie next to an old woman?" Sasha did not disguise the contempt in her voice. The girl looked at Sasha with a hurt expression in her hazel eyes and pain in her soft voice. "You hate me? Still?" Her words breached the high barriers Sasha erected around her heart when Tanya died. "I ...I hated you more than anything in the world when I thought you had killed Tanya. It has been hard to transfer the hate to the man who did kill her. He disappeared so fast ...he hung himself the first night he was in his cell, after one of the guards told him what we had done to you... Your male arrogance and pride at the trial was so easy to despise ...your image became the lightening rod of my hate." She pause a moment - it felt so odd to say those words to this dark feminine creature that was before her. "I ...I guess your reluctance to sleep next to Meg stirred those feelings up in me. Why wouldn't you lie next to the gentle woman unless it is because you are too proud?" "Meg snores." Sasha laughed in spite of herself. "That's true. She is as legendary for her snoring as she is for her standing with the goddess! I hear her sawing logs at even this distance away." Sasha mulled something for a moment. "Perhaps you could lie down with me for the rest of the night? There's no love lost between us ...I can only imagine the horrible things you must have wished on me ...but I could at least warm you." The girl stared at Sasha with a puzzled expression. Then, looking at the ground, she softly answered, "Yes, please." Soon the two were close and covered by Sasha's woolen blanket. The girl faced away, her small body tucked snuggly against Sasha's. She felt the girl's shivering begin to lessen, her muscles relaxing with the warmth. "Sasha?" the soft voice asked. "Yes, Orlando?" "I am sorry." "Sorry? About what?" Sasha was confused. "Tanya." "But why? You had nothing to do with her death. I don't understand..." "You are ...empty." Something in that voice opened Sasha, emotions thawed that had been frozen since the day Tanya was killed. "Yes, I ...find myself at night, wishing to join Tanya in death. I'm so hollow... it is hard to make myself go on. My Guard needs me and so I continue, but ..." Sasha felt gentle hands take her own and squeeze them. "But why do you care, why are you... caring? You should hate me." "I am empty...I hurt" the girl struggled with the words. 'What was she saying?' Sasha wondered, That she did not hate her even after all Sasha had done to her? That she could care about Sasha because she felt loss too? The list of things Sasha had taken from her was incredible. Where was her pain? The loss of family, friends, manhood, her way of life? "What hurts in you most?" "No music. No. music. No..." Sasha felt the girl's shivering begin again. She turned her head around towards Sasha and whispered in her ear, "kill us both." Sasha understood now, and the walls of her heart crumbled away. The girl felt sympathy for her because she had lost something just as precious. They were bonded in their pain. Sasha instinctively hugged the girl tighter, whispering over and over in her ear, "I'm so sorry ...Please forgive me, Orlando ...I'm so sorry..." The girl's shivering finally stopped and after a time, her breathing became rhythmic - she was falling asleep at last. Yet Sasha was still puzzled by something: the girl was not acting as she imagined Orlando to be. "Why did you kiss me on Samhain," she blurted. "Did I seem but another adoring fan, another pretty face?" "You were masked." was the yawned answer. "What? Oh yes, that's right" Sasha remembered, she had been wearing a golden mask, and Tanya had worn a matching one of silver. "Then why did you kiss me?" she asked, more confused now, "if not my face, then what?" "Your voice," was her sleepy reply. "My voice? You were moved to kiss me by the sound of my voice?" "It called me. Your voice. Your sound..." the girl could barely talk, she was so drowsy. "...Your soul..." Sasha felt the pull of sleep now, too, and as she drifted off, she could not help thinking how nicely the girl fit against her body. *** For the first time since Samhain, Sasha dreamed. She sat on a beautiful grassy hill overlooking a sun sparkled sea. Someone had just playfully bit Sasha's ear and was giggling. "You were ever the stubborn one! Do you know how long I've been trying to talk to you, lover?" said the woman dressed in a shimmering white tunic. "I ...I don't understand, Tanya ...how long?" "Since I died, silly." Tanya twirled the ends of her long silver blond hair with her finger, a habit that always annoyed Sasha, and one that she had desperately missed when Tanya was taken from her. "This is ...a dream then? You're not real?" Sasha asked, suddenly sad. "Yes this is a dream, but you tell me if I am real!" She bit Sasha's ear again, hard. "Ow!" "That's for being so pig-headed, and building stone walls around your heart." "But ...I missed you so much..." Sasha said, running her hand gently across Tanya's fair face. "I've been with you all along, love." Tanya said, "Our love can never die, and through it, part of us is together always. But..." Tanya's head turned towards the sea, and she stared out over its limitless horizons, the blue of her eyes matching its depths." "We look upon the ocean of rebirth," Tanya said with longing in her low alto tone. Sasha looked past Tanya at the bright blue ocean below. She saw a trail of lights, like flickering candles, walking on the white sandy beach in to the sparkling water. She looked back to Tanya, and noticed a shimmering brightness now surrounded the tall fair-skinned woman. "You wish to ...go, Tanya? To the sea? Tanya clasped her arms around Sasha. "I must, love, though I could not leave you alone and lost. But now you may love another ...one who needs you as much as you think you think you need me..." "I cannot love another! I cannot!" Sasha said in dismay. Tanya wiped away Sasha's tears with her long slender fingers. "Sasha, when I met you, you were as stiff and proper a Temple Guard as they came. I thought at first that you had an iron rod up your behind. I do not mean to boast, but I showed you how to enjoy ...living, to live with passion. Now, there is one who needs you to teach and love her in the same way. Care for her ...help her ...and you just may find that you can be happy again." The brightness around Tanya became whiter, and she stood and looked towards the sea. Tanya knelt down and brought her lips back to Sasha's; after a long kiss, she whispered, "I will always love you, Sasha, and we will meet again many times ...many lives..." She pulled away now and began walking to the bright blue. "Tanya" Sasha cried, "Don't go..." As Tanya neared the other lights, she turned to blow a final kiss goodbye, calling in her playful voice, "Stubborn, stubborn Sasha! Your joy lies before you!" *** Sasha woke to the sound of weeping. It took her a moment to realize it was her own. She was disoriented, for a black silky gauze covered her eyes. It dawned upon her that it was the girl's hair - the lass still lay in front of her, fast asleep. Sasha gently nudged the girl. "Wake, Orlando!" The girl yawned awake and saw the wetness on Sasha's face. Gently, she wiped them away. Sasha held the girl's small olive skinned hand against her face. "You're the second one today to wipe my tears..." Sasha paused when she saw the girl's confused look. "Never mind. It is day's first light, and today is the seventh day. We must hurry!" At the wake up shout, the Guardswomen were up and packed in an instant. Quickly, the company was traveling once more, pushing east to the Temple. At a good distance from the Temple and capitol city, Meg saw a giant black thunderhead pillaring high into the sky. As they journeyed closer, Meg realized what she looked upon - sooty black smoke poured from the top of the white granite Temple to feed the ominous black void. "Oh my goddess!" Meg whispered. Jules, riding near to her wagon, answered in worried tone, "The cloud was but tiny when we left, now it is surely our doom! I pray my Hans is safe!" Sasha rode back to the Company at a gallop. "I've gone to the edges of the city. The streets are filled with fear - people just standing and waiting. Looting and violence has begun. And a rumor runs through the crowds that the coastal towns have already been flooded by the rising sea." Sasha leaned forward in her saddle, "I hope you will know what to do when we bring you there, Meg." A grim smile spread across Meg's wrinkled face. "I have an idea on what is needed. It may not be pleasant." Sasha nodded and turned to Jules. "Lieutenant, you and Sheala ride in the wagon with Meg. Orlando?" Sasha looked at the girl sitting in the back of the wagon, still looking at the monstrous cloud with her wide hazel eyes. "...can you ride horseback?" When the lass hesitantly nodded 'yes,' Sasha saw the fear in the girl's face, but did not know whether it came because she feared to ride, or that they returned now to the place where she had been so cruelly transfigured. Sasha leaned towards her "Ride along side Ona. If Jules has to swing her broadsword in the wagon, I do not want your head in the way. I'll watch over you." The response look on Orlando's face was hard for Sasha to place - was it trust? Sasha trotted her steed in front of the company once more. Her copper red hair fluttered in the westerly wind, and her green eyes sparkled with excitement. She drew her gleaming broadsword and pointed it towards the massive blackness that loomed over the landscape. "You see what we face, you know the prophecy. "So! It comes down to this. We enter with swords drawn. Above all else, we must deliver the Arch Priestess safely to the Temple. She is our one hope, only she may appease the goddess. And she can do this, only-if-we get-her-there. Let it never be said of the Temple Guard that they failed their charge. Ladies, let us ride." *** The company rode into the city at nearly full gallop, the Guard led in front of the wagon in a wedge formation. Terrified townspeople scattered as they charged through the streets towards the Temple. As they rounded one narrow street, an unorganized mass of men surrounded them, grabbing at the reins of the horses. Using the butts and sides of their broadswords, the Guard drove the first wave of attackers back, causing a domino effect on the men behind. As the Guard galloped past the screaming men toward the open ground of a wide boulevard, a large hand reached up and yanked the girl from Sheala's mount. A dark hulking figure dragged her quickly into a side alley. Ona tried to follow, but the angry crowd surged upon them again, and they were force to fight their way to open ground. Above the chaos and shouting, Sasha heard a voice as if whispered in her ear "Sasha! Help me!" Sasha wheeled her black mount towards the nearby alley and came upon a group of men; some were pinning the girl to the ground while others tore away at her clothes. Sasha drove her great horse into them, sending them sprawling. She leaned low in her saddle with arm outstretched and in one swift movement; she swung the girl up and behind her on to her horse. A man grabbed Sasha leg and held fast, until, with a sharp crack of metal upon bone, Sasha brought the heavy pummel of her sword down upon his head. He crumpled to the ground in a heap. "That-felt-goood!" Sasha whooped as she galloped away with the girl. She looked back to the girl and saw her face white with terror from the attack. Sasha's joy drained away as she remembered her curse upon Orlando. *** Sasha stood with Meg in the temple hallway, disbelief plain upon her face. "Why in the name of the goddess are you using Orlando in this ceremony?" "You also question me? First these sycophant priestesses of Miriam dare to advise me on the purification rites, and now you, granddaughter?" Meg was robed in the majestic purple and silver robe of the Arch Priestess, and looked very unlike the simple farmer she had been just days ago. Sasha bowed her head, "No, I do not, grandmother, it's just that I fear for her. Everything about my hideous curse has come true, even that she know the terror of rape that Tanya felt. I fear my last wish will be fulfilled too, that Orlando die." "But that is exactly the point, Sasha, Orlando is at the center of drama. Everything has happened around her, like a fulcrum." "Where is she?" Being prepared. I have spoken to her and she knows what is expected. After she is purified, I will lead her before the altar of the goddess. There she will make her petition. You may watch by my side. Petition? I do not understand...I had thought you would speak incantations or invocations or the wisdom of the ancients to please our goddess. How will the petition of poor Orlando save us from the doom that hangs above us, the sickness that fells our people, the drought the ravages our land or the wild men that close upon our borders? I do NOT understand!" "SILENCE! Do you not see Her hand at work here? The goddess is NOT being subtle. Do you think some magic words mumbled by an old woman will save our people? Did that work for Miriam? It is Orlando! It has always been Orlando. She is the key!" Sasha shook her head. All truly seemed madness. "But why? And what will she say to the goddess? Will she cry for revenge upon me? Or justice? Or to be changed back to the way she was? How did you instruct her?" "I told her to say what was in her heart." "Did she tell you what she would say?" Meg shook her head. "All she said was, 'I am scared.'" *** The great drums of the temple beat faster and faster as the priestesses led her into the temple. There, she was taken to an antechamber where they bathed her in a pool of seawater, and then in one of fresh water. Next, her skin was rubbed with sage oil, and she was clothed in fresh white robes. Meg motioned to one of the younger neophyte priestesses who had helped bath the girl. She left the room and in a moment returned with a small crystal vial on a silver tray. She approached the girl and unstopped the vial. The girl looked questioningly at Meg, who nodded her head. She allowed the woman to put drops into her mouth; they were bitter, acidic. At last, she was taken into the inner most room of the Temple; vast and lined on both sides with white marbled columns. In the center stood the altar: a massive marble table and on each side, a three-meter wide shallow saucer on a stone tripod. Flames flickered on the tripods, and billowing black, thick smoke poured upward, through the huge open sky window and feeding into the ever-growing cloud of darkness that now loomed over all. Directly behind the altar stood a colossal bronze statue of a woman clothed in a toga with the left breast expose; in her left hand she held the crescent moon and on her right open palm, a songbird sat. In the haze, she could just make out a fierce loving expression the woman's face. The elderly Arch Priestess removed the girl's robe so that she was naked and positioned her stood her on her knees in front of the altar. The girl struggled not to sway, for between the frenetic drumbeats, the strange drops and the smoke, she was experiencing vertigo. She lost track of time and space and direction. All sounds stopped. And everyone, those in the Temple, and the great crowd gathered outside, in unison grew silent, waiting... Even those across the land, without knowing why, stopped whatever they were doing and waited... Images formed in the girl's mind - images of sound - she heard a voice: cool whispers floated and fell upon her like gentle rain, asking asking asking She answered, beating her arms upon the stone floor, and shouting: "Take my body, I long for you, take my soul, I burn for you, take me back, let me sing for you." Vibrations rushed in to her - she filled with music, until she must surely burst. She writhed on the stone floor, moaning and screaming in agony and ecstasy. Suddenly she rose and stood: looking towards the sky window, she began to sing. A wordless tune, low and soft at first but growing in volume and intensity as it rose in pitch, until the very walls of the temple began to vibrate. The center of the massive black cloud above suddenly began to convulse, winding in on itself, tighter and tighter, until, with a thunderclap, it exploded outward, a black circle growing wider and wider, a wave blowing across the land. Brilliant white sun beamed through the sky window, spotlighting Orlando. "My tears of loneliness have filled the sea, Come back to me..." At the passing of the dark cloud, a cheer had started to rise from the crowd outside the Temple. It stopped though, as each person heard her voice singing softly. "I gave birth to mountains to bring you close, Come back to me..." In crowds throughout the land, where fearful people had gathered at temples to pray, they each, they all, heard her song, her soft pure voice. "I cast the stars to ease your nights, Come back to me... With each verse the people were pulled by the longing of the goddess. "Come back to me..." They were loved, they had been away from Her for so long, too long. "Come back to me..." Weeping, tears of sorrow and joy, their hearts cried out, "I am coming, O, goddess I am coming..." The song ceased. All was silence in the Temple, except for the sound of the flickering altar flames. Flames burning the purest silver-white. Through her tears, Sasha looked to the girl, and saw she lay face down upon the floor in front of the altar. Sasha ran to her and lifted her into her arms. The girl's face was deathly white and the brightness was fading from her eyes. "What is wrong? Orlando, speak! What is wrong?" Meg and the other priestess had gathered round them now. Sasha shot Meg a look of desperation. "Please, grandmother, help her!" Meg turned to a nearby priestess. "Run and fetch the healers now, as fast as you can!" "Why so sad?" the girl asked Sasha in a voice barely audible. "Did you hear? Did you hear?" "I heard, love, but tell me what is wrong. Don't leave me!" "Music...I hear music...I am music...I..." Orlando's eyes fluttered closed for the last time. *** 5. Beltane. "Be at ease, Captain, release your women, I am sure they are exhausted. Please come sit with me and give your report." Meg said to Sasha. Sasha saluted Jules and Ona, who returned her goddess salute. "Try not to drink too much ale, Jules," Sasha smiled thinly. "Oh no, it's too early to start that, Captain. Instead, I am going to rest and prepare for Beltane. Hans and I have been looking forward to this day for weeks." "Beltane? That's..." "Today, Captain," Ona, whispered, giving her a look of concern. "It would do you some good to go as well, Sasha." Sasha nodded numbly and then walked across the counsel chamber floor to the table where the Arch Priestess sat. She sat in the chair in front of Meg with a small sigh of relief. She had just finished three days of nonstop riding to the far ends of the kingdom gathering information for Meg. "Sasha," Meg began. "Before you begin, I should tell of Orlando. I'm so sorry that I..." "No, please! Duty first!" Meg had sent her Captain out into the countryside to take her mind off Orlando plight. Sasha had worried the entire three days about the deathly coma Orlando lay in. - she feared the worst, and Meg's tone sounded ominous. She at least could delay bad news for a few more moments. "Very well, then, give it, Captain." Meg said. She knew how stubborn Sasha could be. "Yes, ma'am. To the south, the epidemic in Port Town has abated. Mayor Tomlun reported a great storm blew through the town, from the North West, and the thousands who were stricken began immediately recovering with its passing." "Wonderful news, praise the goddess! When did the storm pass through the city?" "Three days ago. Also, news from the drought stricken highlands: a storm rolled into the mountain plains bringing life-giving rains. The drought has lifted!" "Incredible! Three days it's rained?" Meg asked. Sasha nodded her head yes. "Last, I have visited the Temple of the Sun on the eastern shore. The High Priest said a mighty storm, traveling west to east, blew to sea, and scattered the invasion fleet of the north men. Not one reached our shores." "This miracle ...also happened three days hence?" Meg asked. "Yes. The High Priest sends his gratitude that we have appeased our goddess. He said he hoped his advice was useful. I assume you know of what he refers? " Meg giggled. "Pigs. High Priest Feinis suggested we sacrifice pigs." Sasha's face turned red. "We did sacrifice someone, though, didn't we? Orlando sang with the voice of the goddess and the blackness went out as a great cleansing storm. She sang, and our people were healed, our invaders were repulsed and our very land received life-giving rain. She sang her life away for us!" "Sasha, please, it's alright, she..." Meg tried to interrupt. "All right? It will never be all right again! I lose Tanya to evil, and then ...here's the funny part, a few days ago, the very one I thought had taken my love from me - the one I damned - I found I liked her! No, more than that, I cared for her. I didn't think my heart could ever respond to another, but Orlando's so different than I pictured ...so ...so ...well, I guess it doesn't matter what she was, because she's dead too. She died in my arms, just as I had stupidly wished." Sasha cried bitterly. "Yes, that is true, I suppose." Meg said, wondering on the ways of the goddess. "Orlando is gone." Sasha staggered a step at the confirmation and would have fallen had not Meg quickly stood and caught her. "Sasha, you've been under soul numbing pressure since the night Tanya died. Your lieutenant was right, go to Beltane and loosen up ..." Meg offered. "Are you serious? Have you heard a word I have said? What is wrong with you?" "Nothing, granddaughter, all is right. The only thing amiss is that the Captain of the Moon Temple Guard badly needs to relax. Go to the festival, take a friend or partner...or... I know ...you could go with Gale!" With each word Meg spoke, Sasha became more enraged ...until Meg's last. "W-what did you say?" "I said, take Gale. It would do you both some good." "She's alive? But you said Orlando was ... "Gone. When she finally awakened this morning, she announced ?I am Gale.'" Hope and joy flooded Sasha's heart, and tears her eyes. "She ...Gale ...is alive and well?" "Alive, yes" Meg answered, "but ?well' is a relative term. She awakened from her coma several hours before dawn. She is fit and healthy, yet..." "Yet what?" "I visited long with her before I sent her to the baths. She's ...well, she's a living miracle, for when she sings, it is the voice of the goddess herself. All our people must her hear sing ...their souls need to hear her so! But she's so vulnerable. To connect to the goddess as she does requires an infinite opening of her being. This entire experience has cracked her wide-open Sasha. We all have a mask we show to the world - you the stern warrior, I the crone. We create our masks as a shield to the pain of the world. But our masks also are a barrier to the goddess. Gale's masks, of gender, of personality ...of ...of all of them, are gone. "What does that mean, grandmother? How does Gale act because of this?" "She must be listening, she must be receiving. Some will call her meek and submissive, and I guess there is truth to that. She has trouble evoking her own feelings because of this. Since I've known her, she's never strung more than three words together in a sentence, and she remains that way." "This is awful news! I brought all of this upon her! How will she ever forgive me? How can she ever be happy? She was innocent! Why did this happen to her?" Sasha said with alarm. "Why? No mortal can truly know the mind of the goddess, but, think on this - Orlando was given a great gift, just as we were given this blessed land. Orlando began to take his gift lightly, just as we take our land for granted. A doom came upon him, so also with us. We had all abandoned the Beloved..." "And so she would have destroyed us?" "Think not of it so. It is better to say that in not inviting Her to us, other things rushed in to fill Her place. Orlando changed that - she called to the goddess, and the goddess came to Orlando, and through Orlando's voice, to us all." "But from what you say, she - Gale - still suffers!" "No! She is filled with music! She made her own choice before the goddess and now is fulfilled." Meg leaned closer to the copper haired warrior. "BUT ...she needs someone to care for her. To watch over her and to... hmm... govern her? She is so consumed with the goddess' voice that she has no commonsense! She hasn't a clue about what it is be female, every moontime she has had has been a disaster..." "More than that," the gray-haired woman continued, she will not eat, sleep, or dress if she is not told, she will simply sing. I left a plate of food for her this morning, and though she hasn't eaten since before she sang in the Temple three days ago, I bet you silver and gold that the food is sitting untouched in her room as she plays her harp and sings. She needs somebody to ground her. Meg leaned back now in her chair, with a cat that at the canary look on her face. "As she is now a ...um ...spiritual treasure of the Temple, and as you were the one that first started her down this path ...perhaps it is your duty to take her as your charge?" "My duty is it? That sounded almost like an order, Arch Priestess... Hmm, I must give it thought, I must indeed." Sasha said, smiling mischievously at some internal joke. She wrapped her arms around Meg and kissed her cheek. "I must go, I have an important errand. I need to fetch some Beltane gifts for a songbird." *** "The goddess comes with the rains, and the fire of longing is doused. Now is the time for singing, the time of union. Like lilies that blossom under the full moon's light, I open to Her in this rain: every pore of my body is cooled." Sasha stood outside the door, mesmerized by the girl's song, by the pure joy of it. Some moments after it ended Sasha shook herself from its spell and knocked. "Come in" came the soft answer. Sasha opened the door, to see Gale dressed in a loosely tied white bathing robe, reclined on her couch, fixedly plucking her harp. Gale's hair had been washed, braided and scented. Sasha smelled the jasmine as she walked towards the olive-skinned girl. As she drew near, she saw that Gale's body had also been oiled and that someone had even applied a charcoal liner around her eyes. Sasha's eyes were drawn like a magnet, though, to the rounded and oiled breasts that lay open before her. Gale's face brightened to see Sasha, but flushed red as she suddenly realized her chest was exposed. She quickly drew her robe close. An attendant left by Meg to care for Gale snapped out of the trance she had fallen in listening to Gale's songs. "Oh!" the embarrassed woman said, "how long have I been standing here?" She saw a bouquet of dark red roses in Sasha's hand, and took the hint. "I ...uh ...should go. She will be safe with you? Well what am I saying ...you are the Captain of the Guard. Of course she'll be fine with you..." The woman was nearly beet red now and stumbling towards the door. "Good bye, Lady Gale, you sing so divinely..." her voice trailed down the hall now, "Oh! Oh! I forgot to make her eat! The Arch Priestess will have my head!" Sasha struggled to contain her laughter, and nearly succeeded. "O Lady Gale! I am yet another fan, and I come bearing gifts." Sasha handed the roses to Gale and set a blue velvet bag next to a fruit and cheese plate on a nearby wooden table. The girl gently placed her harp on the table. She smelled the roses and then, held them near her ear as if to hear them. "These are beautiful." "You are beautiful!" Sasha said on impulse. "I am?" "Very, very very ..." Sasha pried her eyes from Gale's face, took a deep breath and lowered herself onto one knee. "I know you can never forgive me, but I wanted you to know, though, how sorry I am." Tears welled in Sasha's eyes, making them sparkle bright green. "When I thought you had died... I ...I..." Gale placed the roses on the floor and moved onto her knees before Sasha. Timidly, she took Sasha's hands. "Look ...I " Gale shook her head, her silky black hair reflecting the morning light as it moved "I...I cannot say..." "...how you feel. I know, I am sorry. I wish there was some way you could show me if forgiveness was possible." Sasha said despondently. Gale's face brightened suddenly, and, looking directly up and in to Sasha's eyes, she reverently brought Sasha's hands to her lips. Sasha was completely captured by her face - so sincere, utterly vulnerable, inexpressibly lovely. "I do not merit it, but thank you." Sasha said, in a voice choked with emotion. She glanced suddenly at the harp next to the uneaten food, "Now...is this what you were just doing before I came?