The Ring Of Perliss Ch 03 Goddess

Minarwe's temple had once been a guardhouse, and its windows had rusty iron crossbars. The walls outside, in contrast to the severity of Veshla's temple, had been painted in bright colours, and the doors and windows likewise had colourful curtains, giving the old building a cheerful and welcoming aspect.

We hesitated before stepping inside. Hanwe, no doubt, worried that the goddess would condemn her to wear the chastity belt forever more. I myself felt conflicted. As Orin-become-Lia, I had never entered a temple of the gods before, and to visit a temple of Minarwe, the goddess of courtesans, would be a dream come true. As Perliss, however, and as long as I wore the ring her spirit would always be a part of me, I both resented and feared the gods, Minarwe and Veshla in particular.

The sounds of music and laughter within made the temple feel welcoming, however, and there was chill in the air outside as night fell. As one, we pushed through the curtains into the warm interior. A dark, narrow hallway opened out into a large central space dominated by a brightly painted statue of the goddess, her face young and pretty, one hand a fist pressed between her bare breasts, the other between her thighs in a way that both shielded her divine cunt from public view and suggested an intimate playfulness.

Her feet rested at the centre of a large bathing pool, within which several naked women luxuriated, singing and laughing. Around the pool were chairs and tables where men, mostly, sat drinking ale as they admired the uninhibited display before them.

"A table, ladies?" a young woman asked. She was clad in a simple white dress, and had a face of bewitching beauty, framed by long, black hair. Her air of innocence was at odds with the revealing nature of her clothes, and the bright red of her lips.

"Please," Hanwe said.

The young woman smiled a dazzling smile. "My name is Jien. Please follow me." She led us around the outside of the room to a free table. "This is a house of pleasure. Do not draw weapons or you will incur the wrath of the goddess. We serve wine and ale only. The young ladies in the bath delight in generous company, if such is to your taste."

The wine was expensive, but tasted expensive too and had a light, fruity flavour. The women in the water were free with their affections when lured to the tables, but it was Jien that fascinated me.

"Have you grown tired of me already?" Hanwe said with an amused smile.

I shook my head. "It's not that. She's cloaked in illusion, and it's a very sophisticated magic at work. I think... Have you heard of the amulets of Minarwe?"

Hanwe shrugged. "In passing, perhaps."

"Six gods made the world," I started.

"Six gods made the world," echoed a voice from an alcove behind us. "Uxur made the mountains and the sun, Ulaxr made the moon and seas, and Oehr made Tordunh where worthy spirits rest. Veshla taught us to live with honour, Derushil taught us to forge and build, and Minarwe taught us that pleasure is business too."

The woman standing there and watching us was lean and fit, and clothed in silver from the waist up, and almost bare below. Her white skirt was so short that I could have seen her cunt just by ducking my head a little, and otherwise she wore only a pair of heavy boots. Her sandy hair was braided into a long ponytail, and her eye...

The right was an unremarkable chestnut brown, but her left eye was emerald and silver, and as startling and terrifying as Hanwe's Unsleeping Eye of the North.

I didn't need to see Hanwe's sudden tension or the way her hand crept to her sword's hilt to know who this woman was. I recognised her from the vision I had had of Hanwe's fight in the throne room. "Zar," I breathed.

She ignored me. "Times are strange if the Black Queen has returned to Benatek."

Clearly deciding that Zar was not an immediate threat, Hanwe removed her hand from the hilt and sat back with a smirk. "I should have known you'd be here," she said, indicating with a sweep of her hand the temple and all its pleasures.

"I know who and what I am," Zar said. "I am at home and at peace here. I know why you are here too, and it is not for the purchase of pleasure. How far have you travelled only to end up back here?"

Hanwe laughed easily. "Far indeed."

"The key," I interrupted. "It's here?"

Zar gave me a quizzical look. "Are you so eager to set the Black Queen free again? I warn you, flesh once touched by divine metal will forever yearn for more. Although..." Her gaze drifted down to my hand. "I know of only one ring forged by Derushil. A queen of Saruz once sought immortality and promised the Divine Smith eternal love in return. But it was a lie."

"Perliss," I said, my cheeks burning with shame, as if I had been the one who had betrayed the gods.

"Perliss," Zar echoed. "Yes." She joined us at the table. "Jien, my love," she called. "More wine."

Wine was delivered quickly, along with a lusty kiss for Zar. "Be sure to pay her well," Jien said to us. "My Zar loves a tongue in her ass after a good spanking."

Zar growled at Jien, making her laugh as she danced away. Turning back to us with a soft, lingering smile, Zar said, "There is a key. The goddess holds it to her breast" - she pointed up at the statue - "but you can't just take it."

"Will she answer?" I asked. "If we call on the goddess, will she answer?"

"Jien will answer for her, if you ask. But there will be a price to pay."

"What price?" I demanded.

Zar shrugged. "Only fools and heroes go to the gods. Which are you?"

*

A fertility spell, or to test for pregnancy:

Crushed apple seeds simmering in day's first pee. Speak

calse tir alos trovir fekl

. If the brew turns sour, add honey and drink for fertility, else no need.

*

There is a story oft told in various forms. It is the story of a king and queen who chose to defy the tradition of inviting the Six to their daughters' Naming. For most people, the Naming is a simple family celebration, usually a few days after the birth. For city folk, it involves making a small donation at each of the six temples. In the villages, a prayer to each of the Six is often all that's done. For the birth of a prince or princess, however, formal invitations are sent to the temples asking the gods to be in attendance at the Naming.

Not that the gods ever come themselves, except in myths and fairytales, but the invitation is still made. But in this story, Minarwe was not invited. "Our daughter has no need of the goddess of courtesans," the queen said. Three daughters they had, and each time the queen refused to invite Minarwe. Each time, the king nodded and agreed with his wife, because although he himself was no stranger to Minarwe's temple, his daughters would never be courtesans.

Years passed, and the three girls grew up to be foul-tempered young women with little to attract suitors except their parents' wealth. One day, learning of how Minarwe was shunned by their parents, they went together to Minarwe's temple and in tears they called upon the goddess. Minarwe appeared before them and said: "What is it you would ask of me?"

"I wish to be beautiful," the youngest said, and Minarwe gave her an amulet that made her beautiful indeed. "As long as you wear this amulet," the goddess said, "you will hunger for the seed of men, but never will you bear child."

"I wish to be adored as wife and mother," the eldest said, and Minarwe gave her an amulet that made her fat and fertile. "As long as you wear this amulet," the goddess said, "you will hunger for a dominant hand, and pain will be your pleasure."

The middle child, having learnt that selfish wishes were rewarded with humiliation, knelt before the goddess and said, "I wish only to serve you." Minarwe gave her an amulet, and said, "All who see this amulet will know you belong to me."

In time, the eldest daughter became a much loved queen and mother to many, though it was well known that she was treated cruelly in bed. The youngest left the palace for the brothel, where many men paid for her time. But the middle daughter had many adventures as a priestess of Minarwe, and it is said that her amulet has passed from priestess to priestess for a thousand years.

*

A spell to renew love:

Twilight tears upon a full-moon thistle. Speak

calse tir alsum kdun bandel

and stew in summer rainwater. A thimbleful once a day for seven days will rekindle a dying flame.

*

Zar invited us to dine with her in what had once been the guardroom adjacent to the cells. They were still cells, although the doors were not locked, and the little windows in the doors stayed open. They had beds within them, and the temple women would bring men down for a short while.

We dined, therefore, to a merry music of sighs, cries and smacks. The food was simple but refreshing, and there was more wine too. Zar intrigued me. "I love the corset," I said, fascinated by the moonsilver scales and the powerful and detailed magic in them.

"The Breastplate of Veshla," Zar explained. "Forged by Derushil for the goddess. I intended to steal it, but succeeded only in angering her. She punished me with a branding." Zar turned and lifted her skirt to reveal skin flushed as if in the wake of a hard smack, the outline of a hand just perceptible. To my witchy senses, however, the symbol for 'whore' was etched into Zar's flesh, and into her spirit too.

Perhaps the wine had gone to my head, but I was determined to hear the whole of Zar's adventure, from Dar-Gratt's tomb to her fight with Hanwe. I was delighted to hear of her encounter with Abab-Baria, the old witch who had taught me so much, but it was her inadvertent rescue of Bdagr, the Troll King, that made me cry out in surprise.

No sooner was she done, blushing brightly about her humiliating defeat by the Black Queen while Hanwe herself listened with amusement, than I launched into the tale of my own adventure. In the spirit of honesty, I told them something even about my life as Orin, but my true story began with my becoming Lia. "I am a woman now," I said, "and learning much about women that I was ignorant of before." Nearly a month had passed since the day I first put on the ring, and during the crossing of the marshes I had bled in the most horrible way.

I loved that my own life had become an adventure worthy of a tale, that I was walking side-by-side with the Black Queen of Benatek, that I was drinking wine in Minarwe's temple surrounded by divine magics. Growing up in a small village, an orphan boy, unable to walk without suffering from the terrible pain in my knee, I had had only dreams and stories of adventure; as Lia, I had become them.

Except, the more I spoke, the more I was reminded that my story had only begun. To be heroic and not merely adventurous, I would have to confront the three witches again. As Perliss I had broken their monstrous cauldron and killed the witches themselves - but they lived again, set free by the Troll King's mating. As Lia, I had wounded one and possessed now an ancient book of powerful spells. No one alive knew as much as I did (which in truth was very little) about the witches and their power.

"I need that sword," I said. "It was made for the murder of witches." Witches like me.

"Then you need something to trade," Zar said. "Veshla would have accepted Minarwe's amulet in exchange for this silver breastplate, but I gave the amulet to Jien. Would you be willing to give her that ring?"

"No," I said immediately. "Never."

"And what about you?" Zar asked of Hanwe. "That bow, perhaps?"

Hanwe laughed. "She can have it all. Especially the belt."

It was getting late and the temple had grown quiet, the candles guttering and burning out. "It is time," Zar said, and led us back to the main room. Only Jien was there, calmly and happily tidying and cleaning the chairs and tables. She smiled brightly at Zar, who said, "Our guests wish to speak with the goddess."

Jien nodded, and a subtle but definite change came over her. Less subtle to my senses was the sudden whirling of mystical symbols about her. Jien stood before us, but someone or something ancient stared back at us from her eyes. "What would you ask of me?" the goddess demanded.

I put out a hand to caution Hanwe to silence. "Goddess," I said, "I ask nothing for myself, but a great evil has returned to the land. Three witches that -"

"Those accursed Vale-worshippers are dead a thousand years," she interrupted. "By your hand too, Perliss." Minarwe fell abruptly silent, and then laughed. "I understand now. You should have stayed in the sand, Perliss. It is your own lust for life that made the witches' resurrection possible, and as long as you linger the witches will continue."

She stepped closer and took my hand in hers, studying the ring closely. "Hear me, Orin, the choice is yours, not hers. Will you surrender Perliss and seek your own heroic path, or will you doom all for the sake of this unnatural blending of souls?"

"No," I whispered in horror. How could I give up being Lia. She meant everything to me. She was my freedom and my chance at adventure. She was my path to heroism!

And yet, if Minarwe spoke true, my only chance to be a hero was in surrendering the ring. "No," I whispered. But how could I live with myself, knowing that I had chosen a terrible doom for the world out of selfish desire.

I collapsed to my knees. "Please, Goddess, I don't want to be Orin again - but if there is no other way to defeat the witches, I will - I will -"

I couldn't form the words I wanted to say. Instead, I said, or at least the words came from my mouth: "No. The ring is mine, given to me by Lord Derushil himself. I killed the witches once, I will do it again. I need no help from you, Minarwe."

The goddess laughed, though her eyes glittered with rage. "There you are at last, Perliss, provoked from flesh you were not born to. Go back to the sand and die as you should have." She plucked the ring from my finger as a scream of hate and denial burst from my lips.

I was suddenly so dizzy that only Hanwe's arms about my shoulders kept me from falling. "Lia," she whispered. "Come back to me, Lia."

And gradually I did. I waited for the pain and weakness to return, and opened my eyes expecting to see disappointment in her expression, but there was none of that. The ring was gone. Perliss - I could feel - was gone; the memories of her life that had grown so clear were fading swiftly.

Gone, but I was still Lia, still a woman. "Thank you, Goddess," I said, understanding at last.

"I know what else you would ask for," Minarwe said. "Kill the witches and you may have it." She turned to Zar. "Speak to Veshla. Make amends. Lia will need the sword."

And with that she was gone, and Jien was herself again.

"I don't understand," Hanwe growled. "Why wouldn't she speak to me? Why did you stop me?"

"The key will be yours, Hanwe," I said. "I just need to kill some witches first."

"Ah," she said, and laughed. "Is that all? I guess I can wait a little longer."

*

To mend a broken heart:

Buttercups picked at midday beneath a golden sun, stirred in fresh spring water and warmed over burning oak beneath a moonless sky. Speak

malese tir alsa dana fekl

and leave to cool. A thimbleful once a day for seven days will lift spirits and invite optimism into the most wounded of hearts.

*

To be free of the ring was a burden lifted. The fear that I would lose the ring and become Orin again was gone. I was Lia now for life, a woman without question. The goddess had granted my deepest desire, and I knew I would love her for it forever. I loved Hanwe too, and proved it to her with a long, passionate kiss.

"I'll make a bed for this lusty couple," Jien said. "Bring bath and water for them, Zar."

"At once, my love," Zar replied, and grabbed her for a brief kiss before launching into action.

Alone together beneath the watchful gaze of Minarwe's statue, I kissed Hanwe again. "I know it's cruel that you must wait still longer," I murmured. "How long will it take me to find the witches again, I do not know, and how to defeat them I can't begin to guess, but it seems the goddess has faith in me, and I" - I kissed her softly, seductively - "have faith in you."

Hanwe smiled mischievously. "Don't lie to me, nymph. I know it's my cock you really want."

"True," I said. "It is an excellent cock. Are you sure the belt denies you any climax? Zar says a cock in the ass works for her."

Hanwe shook her head. "I don't want that, but I wonder..." She looked around for a moment, then grinned. "Take your clothes off."

A thrill ran through me, of alarm as much as excitement. I loved playing around with Hanwe, and hours of watching and listening to the temple courtesans had certainly built a tension in me - mostly but not entirely dispelled by the goddess changing my life completely - but to play such an intimate game in a public setting? Yes, it was late, and dark too with only a few candles left to burn through the night, but Jien and Zar might walk in at any moment, and probably would.

And yet, if any public space was safe for such play, it had to be Minarwe's temple. The actual sex had taken place in the privacy of the old prison cells, but the women had not been shy to be naked while bathing at the feet of their naked goddess, and I had glimpsed many fingers teasing cunts and many mouths descending onto cocks.

I stood and let Hanwe watch me remove my skirt and tunic, even my boots - the floor was clean and not too cold. Finally my bra too, and I thought about Hanwe's promise to fuck my breasts one day when free of her chastity belt. It was nice to actually be somewhere safe and warm with her for once. We had spent days with the trolls beneath the mountain and then days crossing marshland; this was our first night together with an actual roof above our heads.

"Bend over," she instructed, and walked over to a box and picked out what looked like a horse's tail, the long hair much whiter than my own. The upper end had a polished metal cone attached, and my witchy senses perceived some subtle craft about it too.

"What is that for?" I asked nervously, suspecting but not wanting to know.

"Bend over," she repeated, "and I'll show you."

Reluctantly, but too intrigued to deny her, I bent over for her, parting my legs. "Will it hurt?"

"Trust me," she said, her lips twitching with amusement.

I wasn't sure I did, and I waited tensely as she spread my cheeks and pressed the tip of the metal cone into that tight ring of muscle guarding my ass. "There's no way it will fit in me," I said, only to feel myself stretched slowly open, almost painfully so - and the most remarkable thing about it was that Hanwe had returned to her seat in front of me. The tail was burrowing into me all by itself.

It was almost too much to endure, and I was panting heavily and thinking seriously about pulling it out when suddenly it slotted into me, the intense almost-pain diminishing abruptly and leaving an unexpectedly pleasant sensation of fullness.

"Will it come out again?" I asked, tugging on it experimentally. It felt very firmly wedged within me, and that ring of muscle kept clenching sweetly about the intruder.

"Eventually," Hanwe said. "You might need to get on your knees and pray to Minarwe for another miracle, though."

I glared at her, but also I was curious enough about my new tail to stand up and sway my bum a little. The way it shifted around inside me was really quite pleasant, and the brush of hair against the backs of my legs was a delightful tease.

"Tell me what it's like," Hanwe said, watching me avidly.

"Every time I breathe in," I said, "my ass tightens, and when I breathe out it relaxes." It made breathing an erotic act. Breathe in, clench; breathe out, relax. The tail itself twitching to make visible the excitation of my ass.