Chapter 34 | The Last Royal Mistress

There He Is

“This isn’t ‘up before dawn’--it’s practically the middle of the night, Jenks!” yawned Temmin.

“In fact, it is now half-past four, and you’re due at the Temple in less than an hour,” answered Jenks as he cleared up the remnants of Temmin’s light breakfast. “Your sisters are probably already in the small drawing room to give you your presents before you leave. I suggest you don’t keep them waiting. Miss Ellika is particularly cranky at this hour.” Temmin drew on his suit coat and shot his cuffs; Jenks gave him an approving nod and handed him the nosegays for Ellika and Sedra.

“What did your sisters send you?” Temmin said.

Jenks chuckled. “Only one of them is unmarried, you know that. Justice sent me a very lovely set of handkerchiefs she hemmed and embroidered for me. Very useful--just the sort of present she would send.”

“Justice,” said Temmin, rolling his eyes. “How old is she?”

“Off with you, Your Highness,” said Jenks, shooing him out the door.

Temmin galloped down the stairs. Despite the early hour, the servants were already at work; it was a holiday and there was much still to do. Flowers festooned the banisters and hallways; their pink and red ribbons rustled in the breeze Temmin left in his wake. He pulled up just outside the small drawing room. For the first time ever, their mother would not be with them for a Nerr’s Day blessing exchange. He spent a moment untangling the ribbons dangling from the nosegays, and entered with as much brotherly dignity as he could manage.

“There he is!” muttered Ellika under her breath, but she gave him a bleary smile. Her hair was hastily clasped at her nape with a pink ribbon; her eyes were puffy and her wrapper slightly askew. Sedra looked somewhat more composed. “Let Sedra go first,” murmured Ellika. “This is her last Nerr’s Day.”

Temmin set one of the nosegays down on a nearby console and stepped in front of his oldest sister; her dark eyes were especially brilliant this morning, and he felt his own water in response. “Sedra, as your brother, should you ever lose our father’s protection before your husband comes to claim you, I promise to protect you, to give you food and drink, to shod your foot and clothe your back, until--” he choked on a sudden marble in his throat-- “until you are safely married.” He put the red-beribboned nosegay in her hands and squeezed them, a tear pooling at the corner of his eye; he was ashamed until Sedra began crying herself.

She screwed up her mouth into a smile, and said in a scratchy voice, “As your sister, I thank you for your protection, and I promise to pray for you every day until you are safely married!”

She gave him the ceremonial kiss on both cheeks, but Temmin pulled her close and hugged her. “Oh, Seddy, I will miss you so, so much!”

“I will pray for you every day even after you’re safely married, Tem,” she whispered into his shoulder. “No matter how far apart we are. Now, here. It’s a small thing,” she added, handing him a little jewel case. Temmin opened it. Inside were a pair of silver cufflinks, each engraved with a horse, mane flying, rearing with pride--the banner of the house of Whithorse.

He hugged her close again, then released her and retrieved the nosegay tied with pink ribbons. “Ellika,” he said, giving her the flowers, “as your brother, should you ever lose our father’s protection before your husband comes to claim you, I promise to protect you, to give you food and drink, to shod your foot and clothe your back until you are safely married.”

She gave the proper response and added, “I hope you’ve started saving up for my clothes, and I imagine you pray I’ll get married before you’re responsible.”

“I can’t imagine a girl as pretty as you not having a husband before we know it...” said Temmin, tapering off. Pretty has nothing to do with it, does it?

Her gift was a pretty stickpin that matched the cufflinks, and by the time Temmin reached the Lovers’ Temple, the cufflinks shone at his wrists, and the stickpin held his cravat.

At the Temple, dawn would not be the start of the day; it had started even earlier than Temmin’s. People dressed in Temple garb climbed up and down the steps, carrying armloads of flowers, sweeping, polishing statues. Inside in the Great Hall, old offerings had been carted off, and racks stood before the great statue of Nerr to keep the expected deluge of offerings from flooding its feet in unruly waves of flowers. Temmin strode up to the statue, followed by a blinking footman burdened with a vast bouquet of flowers. Temmin ordered the footman to put it smack in the middle of the rack; there would be no offering greater, he thought, so it may as well have pride of place.

Temmin spoke the prayer quickly: “Blessed Lover, Brother of the Beloved, please make me strong to protect my sisters, and please send my sisters husbands.” As he walked through the Lovers’ entwined legs into the Supplicants’ Chamber, for the first time in all the years he’d recited the prayer, he thought about what it actually said. Strong to protect them, I understand that. But send them husbands? I’ve been praying for that since we were all children. Now that one of them actually is getting one, I’m not sure I like the idea. But he dismissed the thought as nonsensical; they’d always known the girls would be getting married, and not necessarily to men they’d pick on their own, though he liked Brinnid and it was plain Sedra more than liked him. Why did he have to be king of Sairland?

“There you are!” chorused Bessa, Anda and Senik. They hurried him into his Temple clothes and out the door. The Great Hall was already filling up with men making offerings. They looked to Temmin as if they were mostly barrow boys, street merchants and servants, all clutching meager clumps of flowers. It made sense, he supposed; when else were they able to come, but very early or very late? He’d never seen any ordinary persons like that when he’d gone to make his offerings at Whithorse, in fact, he’d never seen much of anyone. Whenever he went to a Temple at home, it was usually deserted but for the Temple’s clergy. It had never occurred to him before. How odd.

They reached the chambers reserved for the Gods and began setting up the various braziers and the two racks where Allis and Issak would soon hang. Temmin ran his hands briefly over the ancient wood of the Lover’s rack. He thought about the trial to come and shuddered, and he wondered at the sudden stirring between his legs. “Temmin, go fetch the Holy Ones, it’s nearly time to start,” ordered Anda.

Temmin hurried through the halls to the twin doors; a young Postulant admitted him and opened the doors to Issak’s sitting room. Framed in the doorway, he saw them standing forehead to forehead, flowers in the hands of the sister, and a small box in the hands of the brother. Issak murmured something; Allis put one arm around his neck and pressed her cheek against his. They noticed Temmin in the doorway and broke apart. “Ah, there you are,” said Issak. “Time to go?”

I hate this part, thought Temmin. He stayed well away from the strange smoke of the braziers this time. The Gods had nearly taken hold; howls of pain and longing arose from the twins, their arousal clear. Arousal struck Temmin as so very wrong here, but when Senik suddenly seized and kissed him, he returned it fiercely. When it ended, his head swam. Did I get too close to the smoke after all?

The howling stopped. The Gods were here.

“There You are!” said Neya-in-Allis as the girls released her from the rack. “Hello, Brother!”

“Hello, Sister,” Nerr-in-Issak replied. To Temmin’s surprise, they didn’t rush at one another. “This isn’t the time for that, little Prince,” said Nerr lazily, and Temmin blushed. The Gods merely embraced and exchanged a casually erotic kiss that made Temmin blush harder.

“All is ready for You, Lord,” said Anda with a low bow.

“Did you make yourself the sole woman on the list again, you bad girl?” said Nerr, throwing an arm around her plump waist as the group walked toward the main hall.

Anda laughed. “Bessa made the list this year, Lord,” she answered, “but I’m happy to serve You if You wish.”

“I am sure you are, darling,” said the God, and smacked her round ass. She let out a squeal and ran ahead; Temmin wondered how someone could stroll and run at the same time as he watched Nerr chase down the hall after her.

“Hello, Temmin,” purred a familiar, foreign voice in his ear.

“Lady,” he answered, looking down into Her eyes. They were green and glowing, but only green; he saw nothing but sympathy.

“No showings this time, dear,” She said, taking his hand. “I am sorry, you know, for what happened. But We must do what We must do, and nothing can stop what was and is to be.”

Temmin halted; the Lady let go of his hand and kept walking, looking back over Her shoulder with a smile on Her borrowed lips. “Wait! Lady, wait!” he called, striding to catch up. “Are you telling me--” He tried to force out words, but they stuck in his throat.

“Oh, sweetheart,” She said, patting his troubled face. “I know what you want to ask. Go on,” She told the rest. “We’ll catch up.” She watched them into the Great Hall, then turned to Temmin. “You can’t stop any of it, Temmin. But your part in these events is not pre-ordained. In them, you are the unknown.”

“Lady, just tell me about my mother!”

“I can’t.”

“Lady, you know everything, and you choose not to tell me?” said Temmin.

Neya closed his mouth with a kiss, then walked away into the Great Hall, her words floating behind her. “Little Prince, watch your tongue, and I’ll let you keep it. It’s a nice tongue.”

Nerr sat in state at the feet of His own statue, holding High Lover Gan’s ancient hand on the one side, and absently stroking High Beloved Malla’s thigh on the other. The half-full rack before Him displayed the many small offerings brought during the early morning hours, larger offerings brought more recently, and a few bouquets on the same scale as Temmin’s.

Temmin took his place at the back of the dais with Besss and Anda, and looked out into the ranks of worshippers kneeling before the God. He saw familiar faces--distant cousins, sons of the nobility. Behind them knelt well-dressed young men of good families, then the sons of merchants. At least that’s what Temmin assumed. Lord Fennows and his father, the Duke of Barle, knelt in the front on thick velvet cushions; how could Lord Barle still have unmarried sisters at his age, thought Temmin.

Two familiar figures approached the dais, and Temmin’s heart contracted. It was Eldest Sister Imvalda, Sarra, the Embodiment of Venna, both of whom he’d seem far too much of lately. A small procession of Postulant Sisters carrying large baskets followed behind them. While Imvalda and the other Sisters bowed, Sarra did not. “I stand in Your Sister Venna’s place, Lord,” she said, “and I thank you on Her behalf for the beautiful flowers You sent Her.” Nerr gave Sarra the traditional blessing, and she returned it, adding, “I bring you the twenty-two herbs of pleasure my Sisters and I have gathered this morning.”

“I thank you,” said Nerr, as Lovers took the baskets from the Sisters; Temmin noted that several of the women fastidiously avoided touching the Lovers’ hands.

“What’ll we do with those?” whispered Temmin to Bessa.

“Ssh!”

Next came High Priestess Emsa and the Embodiment of Harla, Trudannis. The blessings were exchanged, but no gifts. Who wants a gift from Death anyway? thought Temmin.

Finally, Neya glided up to the dais.

“Who’d you pick for the gift?” Temmin whispered to Bessa.

“Ssssh!”

Eight people followed the Goddess, four women and four men dressed in Temple garb. Temmin knew most of them only by looks, but among them were Barik and two members of his Postulancy class, Evra and Mathanus. He wouldn’t have called any of them stunningly beautiful, but there was something about each of them that was compelling: The woman with the dusky skin and deceptively drowsy expression. The plump man with the mouth that curved in such a way that the only choice was to kiss it. A woman with a back as beautiful as a marble sculpture. A small, wiry man who vibrated with intensity and yet stood very still. Barik with his huge dark eyes and manhood to match. Enormous Mathanus, tranquil and muscular. And Evra, who looked so artless that debauching her was really all one could do.

“Four of each. How very symmetrical of you, sweet Bessa!” remarked Nerr; Bessa bowed, hiding her blushing face. “Sister,” He said. His voice could not have been called loud, but it filled every corner of the Great Hall, and the gathering shook with its force. “As Your Brother, I promise to protect You, to give You food and drink, to shod Your foot and clothe Your back. All of these offerings, I give to You.” Temmin thought that Neya rarely wore either shoes or clothes, but kept the observation to himself.

“Brother,” she answered, “As your Sister, I thank You for Your protection. Will You accept My small gift?”

“Which among them shall you choose, Lord?” said Gan, amusement lighting up his wrinkled face.

Nerr rose from the cushioned seat, absently stroking His hardness. He walked down the line of potential “gifts,” stopping to kiss the irresistable mouth and slide His fingers down the perfect back. He stopped before Evra. “Oh, such a perfect bud! You.” Evra flushed with pleasure, bowed, and stood to one side. “Barik,” said the God. “We give you this present--” He slapped at the Lover’s impressive member-- “and what do you do with it all day?”

Barik grinned. “I use it to serve you, Lord, as you very well know.”

“And you do it splendidly! I haven’t had you in too long a time. Join the wholesome one.” Barik bowed and stood beside Evra, whose knees were shaking so hard her skirt wobbled; Barik slipped an arm round her waist to calm her.

Through narrowed eyes, the God examined the rest. “I seem to be in the mood for innocence, excepting that old dog Barik. You,” He said to Mathanus. “You once served My Brother Farr.”

“Yes, Lord,” said Mathanus, bowing, “but I didn’t care for killing and I didn’t want to go home.” A titter went through the worshippers. Mathanus must not have heard it; Temmin squirmed on his behalf.

“Postulant, join the other two,” said Nerr; Mathanus shambled over to stand on the other side of Barik. “I’m not seeing him...” mused Nerr, gaze sweeping across the remaining five. He turned and caught sight of the three Supplicants standing in the shadows on the dais. “Ah! Temmin!” said Nerr. “There you are!”