. 01

Chapter 17 : Roger Returns

Dalos, in Occupied Pirion

Part 1

One surprise was the arrival of Roger, their old 'Guardian'. Sreela had developed a rare and genuine attachment to the man, which for her had been deeper than Danella's relationship with Paul. When he departed on campaign she had expected to see him occasionally and to hear from him by letter, which was a form of communication the Prancirian soldiers used often with their wives and families. He had written to her once from the front, making the effort to write in the Pirionite language a few weeks after his departure. It had been a short letter but described the busy danger he was in, and declared his continuing love for her. She had heard nothing from him since and had worried for him. Strange that a Priestess of Pirion, who had even fought for a short time in the defence of her city, should be so concerned for the life of a foreign soldier, invading her own country and presently engaged in killing her own countrymen and women. But she had felt his care for her in an uncertain world and his devotion, and she cared for him in return. It was a part of what the Prancirians called 'love'. He had become like a 'partner', in the Pirionite sense, even in the short time she had known him.

The Pirionite 'Partner' was someone you might usually live with, although they might live nearby and share time together. Frequently people became partners in order to raise children, although it may be only for regular companionship. A legal responsibility arose over the care of children, albeit more widely shared among family, friends and neighbours than in Vanmar. In Pirion the term partner meant no exclusive control over the partner's sexual activities, as the Vanmarian term 'marriage', and even the lesser categories of fiancée and girlfriend and boyfriend implied. Partners in Pirion might have as many sexual contacts as they wished and usually did, and it was common for some to have two or more partners. A Priestess left the Priesthood if she wished to have a Partner because it was understood that to serve her community and the Goddess effectively a person needed to be able to give herself unselfishly in her role.

In practice over centuries many Priestesses and particularly High Priestesses had naturally developed strong relationships and friendships with regular contacts whether Priests, Priestesses or general citizens. These were never referred to as partnerships but the parties spent so much time together that they were much like Partners. All priestesses developed friendships with their contacts if they visited regularly. Human nature could not be denied and the Goddess had never been opposed to the development of close relationships.

Roger appeared at the Dormitory on the day of the festival. He walked in in the mid afternoon, looking strangely out of place in that place where he had not so long ago spent most of his time. The Priestesses were surprised. They had grown used to the quiet that day and had been led to believe by Gerald that the soldiers were forbidden to attend the dormitory on this first day of the festival. At first he was not recognised.

"We are not supposed to be working today," said Arenna who was nearest the entrance. The man wore a dirty soiled uniform which had been ripped and ragged in a number of places. On his face was a wiry beard, longer than military standards usually allowed and certainly longer and more unkempt than the was the current fashion among the soldiers. His hair was also longer and unkempt. He walked with a limp that was instantly noticed as he hobbled into the room and one arm was heavily bandaged. His eyes were tired and he did not seem at ease with the place or the Priestesses.

"Where is Sreela?" he asked, in a quiet voice, quieter than the one he had used to use, so that they still did not recognise him.

"Over there," Arenna told him, pointing.

Sreela, like Danella, had taken to reading in recent months, borrowing books she had already read and recommended, from Paul mainly. She had been reading and hardly lifted her head when the stranger walked in. Nothing about the man warned her that she knew him, although she had shared his bed so many times, and still thought about him often. When he had asked for her, although he had said it quietly, she became alert to the pronunciation of her own name and looked up. The realisation of who it was was not sudden but as her eyes surveyed him again and she saw him look directly at her where Arenna was pointing she knew him for more than just an ordinary soldier. A reaction of avoidance crossed her mind. This was not the man she had known, Roger. This was an alcoholic or sick soldier, weary of the conflict and no longer suited to serve in the Prancirian Army. It could not be her Roger. But that moment was short, as her mind stabilised into awareness of the present. How different he looked. But it was the same Roger, she recognised him now, tall slim, well muscled, slightly angular. His face still contained the sparkle of the old Roger she knew. Only his limp and the wound in his arm made him seem older. Take away the beard or cut it back and give him some sleep and he would be the same person she had known.

"Sreela," he said softly, as if he did not wish the other Priestesses to hear, and yet all eyes in the main room were turned to him. Many did not yet recognise him for their old protector.

"Roger, it is you," said Sreela, "I did not recognise you!" Other Priestesses heard what she called him and it came to them who he was.

He came towards her speaking, "Can we talk? Can we go into one of the other rooms?"

Privacy had not been a feature of the dormitory and the Priestesses used to communality were not normally concerned about its lack. However Sreela and Roger had normally been private with each other and it seemed natural to Sreela to be private with him.

"We will go to the small room." It contained one bed which the Priestesses kept empty for those soldiers who demanded complete privacy in their sexual pleasures.

The old Roger would have gone straight to the room expecting her to follow, a Prancirian gentleman though he might have been. Now he was a guest again and not the master. He was a newcomer now. He followed her to the room.

"Roger, where have you been. It's good to see you again, but you look different." She laid her arm on his shoulder and drew him to her. He came to her without resistance but passively.

"It is good to see you also. I did not know for sure whether you would still be here, or even remember me after all this time," he said. He was tentative as if unsure of her welcome. He demanded nothing of her although he had considered her to be his own girlfriend before. His voice was quiet, but clear.

"It has not been so long," she said, sensing his sensitivity. "Let me kiss you again now I recognise you."

"I am not well. My leg was wounded some months ago, my arm more recently, and I have been travelling. I am tired and will need to sleep soon." She kissed him on the cheek, allowing him to speak. He smelled of sweat and unwashed. His breath stank as if the food he had been eating was unsavoury, but probably only his teeth had not been cleaned.

"Tell; me. Are you alright?" It seemed a silly question, but he would have explain.

"I am alright. I have been wounded but it is nothing serious. What I need is rest, then after a few days I will be fine, although I may always limp and my arm will take longer."

"Have they been treated?"

"Yes, they are not so fresh but the arm needs longer to heal. The leg has been like this for months. I fear it has healed as much as it will. At least I am alive and I still have my limbs. There are many soldiers who don't. You know they normally chop wounded limbs off to prevent the gangrene from spreading. Luckily your fellow Priestesses treated my leg so it could not become gangrenous. The arm was saved by quick treatment.

"You must tell me everything. Is there anything you need now?" she asked.

"I need sleep, but I came to see you first. I wanted to see that you are still here, safe, and to tell you that I am still alive. There is much I need to tell you, but I will tell you only a part of it before I sleep."

"Have you eaten?"

"I have lunched when I arrived here before coming to the dormitory."

"Have you anywhere to sleep?" she asked.

"I have been given a lodging in a room not far from the old Temple," he said.

"Shared?"

"For the present with another soldier. I have not been there yet but if I ask again I am sure they will give me a whole room soon. Officers are entitled to them here." He smiled at the thought that she of all people should be concerned that he might have to share a room with another soldier when she shared her Dormitory with 28 Priestesses and half the Prancirian army.

Doubtless she remembered, as he did, that they were always at their best when she slept with him in his room. He remembered it well because he had always insisted upon it. He had never liked the lack of privacy of the Dormitory. At first it had given him an excitement he had not had with a woman before, to observe others in the act of love at the same time as himself, to observe more than one naked woman at the same time, to be observed oneself. But he never relaxed as well as when he was alone with this woman. He loved her quite deeply after the care she gave him. She had listened and talked to him, unafraid of his authority after she had gained his trust. With her he had come close to forgetting his wife and children whom he also loved. But she had quickly become his favourite. Her kindliness and maturity had shone through his preconceptions of her profession. He had never thought to see a stronger soul in the body of what he had expected to be merely an Pirionite prostitute, than the weak or confused souls he had known in Prancir. Some of the other Priestesses had been strong in that way too. Sreela's friend Danella had been one. He might have enjoyed himself more with some of the other Priestesses if Sreela had not been so good. Her lovely slim body, her long proud yellow hair had originally drawn him although there had been something about her personality from the start. He had soon become entranced by more than just the body. His long separation from her had made him realise it more than ever.

"You could sleep here if you wish," she offered. "Tonight at the least."

"Maybe tonight. It would be good to stay here but I should claim my bed. The soldier I am to share with will report my absence and I may lose it."

The Roger she had known would not have worried over such a petty matter. Of course he would not lose his bed if he was missing from it for one night. But he was tired, obviously and had only just arrived back in Dalos.

"Who is in command here now, at the Dormitory?" he asked.

"Gerald," she replied. They called him by his first name. Sreela was not sure of his surname as they always called him by his first name.

"I know him. Yes. I knew at the time I left he was going to take over. I was not sure whether he was still here. A dependable man?"

"He has been alright with us. Unlike you he builds no close relationships."

"He likes you all I should expect?"

"Of course," she smiled, "he seems to like most of us. He treats us as well as you did, perhaps even better now that we are to be treated more as citizens and not as prisoners. I do not like him a much as you though. He does not listen to us much and the man never shares his feelings."

"Will he mind if I stay here overnight?" Roger asked. Before he had been in charge here. The decision of where a man might sleep had been partly his. Now Gerald was in charge of the dormitory it was to Gerald that they looked now for such decisions.

"If he was here he would probably say you could not, unless you know him well as a friend. However, I do not expect to see him here today. All the soldiers are at the festival and for today they are banned from coming here. Even the guards on the door have left their posts. You may have noticed when you came in."

"I did. I expected it for I am here on leave for the festival also, but I am in no mood to join the festivities. I need to sleep. I do not look forward to the walk to my lodging, so I shall accept your offer to stay here and hope that Gerald does not object. Thankfully I do know him and I think he would respect my previous posting here with you. I shall return to my lodging in the morning."

"We will not mention it to him, unless we have to," smiled Sreela, drawing him closer to her to embrace him. "Rest yourself on the bed, sit against the wall and stretch your legs. I will sit with you while you tell me what has happened to you. Then we can make love if you wish but I think you would prefer to sleep."

He smiled, the generosity of Priestesses had not changed. It was remarkable that they were so different from the women of Prancir and the rest of Vanmar who only 'sold' their love at a high price, even within marriage. The love of the women of Pirion was completely free. He marvelled at it. Even the wreck of a soldier that he felt he had become, who must be far less attractive to Sreela than he had once been, was still offered love as if it was a mere greeting. Pirion truly was a wonderful place and its people generous in a way that his own had never been. Here even among women who had been captive prisoners there was generosity towards the invader despite the sack of their cities and the many crimes committed against their people.

Roger lay back on the bed. Helping his leg gently up from the floor. It was not yet strong and would not lift itself without help. Sneela sat next to him and they held each other tenderly while he recounted the outline of his recent travels.

"We went south marching with cavalry ahead, big guns behind. We were in occupied territory for a long way. Then we arrived at Shallas, the next major city south, you probably know it."

She nodded. She had been there for a while (a couple of times), a beautiful old city with tall buildings and ornate temples where she had participated in wild ceremonies.

"We laid siege to it for some time as the Pirionites had fled within the walls. Just as in Dalos we breached the fortifications and eventually the city was forced to surrender. Again we burned down the temples and some other buildings with people inside them. Again we killed some who resisted and some who did not. I saw some of our soldiers rape a small group of priestesses much like yourselves and put them to the sword with their semen still fresh inside the women. I tried to stop them but their officers would not allow me to intervene. When order resumed many innocents had perished and thereafter peace and protection followed. I had thought to myself, 'I have seen all this before,' I knew it was inevitable that unnecessary deaths would occur in conquest. Some Pirionites, men and women, resisted in one quarter of the city after a massacre made them break their surrender. They fought well because they had lost faith in the guarantees of surrender. I was engaged to take my men into some of those buildings and we lost many men. I had already seen scenes which almost made me lose my will to fight. When I killed Pirionite soldiers I did not want to kill them anymore. I only killed them to save my own life and if I had stopped killing I would be arrested by my own officers. Sreela, I killed some Priestesses who were fighting in those ruins. They were like you, and in peace they would be willing, like you, to make love to me although I was their enemy."

Tears welled in his eyes. The memory was obviously upsetting to him. Even Sreela's touch lessened as she considered her countrymen and women murdered by this soldier whom she had loved. But then she renewed her comforting, touched by his obvious remorse and by the change in his attitude to the war. Before he had never seemed to doubt the cause of the invaders. He had been horrified by any excessive killings and the maltreatment of Pirionite women by his own army but he had partly by his own efforts put a stop to that. There had been no indication that he thought the war to be wrong.

"I don't like this war anymore. It is not a good war. It never was. I have lived among you Priestesses, and I have met others which I will tell you about and you are lovely, kind, generous people. I think your men are too, although I know them less well. Your ways are better than ours. That is clear to me now, although it was not at first. I have been fighting on the wrong side in this war. I should have been fighting to protect you all. Indeed it is you in Pirion who should be conquering Vanmar. We need you and your culture to solve all of our problems."

She listened, amazed at the turnaround which had occurred in him. She had not imagined that Prancirians would ever admit these things, even the kind ones, of whom there were many. She imagined that many of them wished to end this war and go home, but for a Prancirian to suggest that Pirion should conquer Vanmar was something that had never occurred to her before. Roger had changed sides completely. She kissed him as if to tell him she understood the gravity of what he had just said.

"I never thought I would hear a Prancirian say that," she said. "You know it brings me great hope that one day this war will end. And Pirion's culture will not die."

"I am not so sure of that. I am a soldier of Prancir and I think I know what drives this war. We cannot stop it just by persuading a few soldiers to feel guilty or to learn to appreciate the values of the Priestesses. It is to do with power and money, with tradition and Vanmarian morality, and with the rivalry of the Vanmarian nations. But I will continue with my story."

"I was not in Shallas for very long. The Generals wanted to keep up the pressure upon the enemy and while they were confused and shattered to take as much land as we might. Doubtless they were concerned that the Vanmandrians have been enlarging their territory recently. Into the hills we went, turning into gorges and mountains but the road is a wide one. Soon we came into contact with soldiers of Pirion who would surprise us by firing muskets at us from the shelter of the forest or craggs above. Whenever we charged to dislodge them they disappeared and we never caught them. These surprises occurred frequently and over a period of days we lost many men this way, although the Pirionites were never a match for us, always retreating. This became very wearing and frightening to us and we began to hope for the pitched battles which we are trained for.

"In a gorge there was an ambush more serious than the others. Their fire power was strong. Not only musket shots rained down on us but also great numbers of arrows from bows. The sky was filled with them as they rained down on us. Unprotected we were hard pressed. We could not send our cavalry to attack them because the slopes were too steep. It seemed the soldiers of Pirion had found a tactic which could work in those hills. Those arrows, while not as deadly as a musket shot could be sent rapidly into our ranks. We charged them, but uphill it was impossible to climb the hillside fast enough before being shot. Despite being a large army we could do little. We sped onwards at a run leaving many of our comrades behind, dead or wounded. As I ran I felt an arrow rip into my leg. A searing pain reached me seconds afterwards and my leg would not stand. I fell to the road and rolled to the side to avoid the boots and hooves of my comrades. I cried to them to help me but each man was running for his own safety and I was left to die on the road. I crawled but could not stand. I expected to receive another arrow at any time now that I was down and easy prey, but it never came. Looking back I realise that in the ambush your soldiers had been instructed to fire only upon walking and riding soldiers. To cut as many down as possible. They intended to take as many prisoners as possible. Unknown to myself at the time I was in far less danger once wounded than when I stood, although there remained some chance that a stray arrow might smite me. Our charge forward seemed to allow us to break free for a time but I heard later that further ambushes lay in wait further along the road. Many of our soldiers passed me on the road and finally I was left behind, bleeding dangerously and a cripple."