The Sighs Of The Priestess Ch 07

**Man, this thing has grown legs. I started to write this as a prequel to The Witch's Want and it's gotten longer than I'd intended. I love to read the comments of readers and it's been mentioned to me that the tale of Yanna and Illya might stand alone by itself. I feel very honored.

This is my 50th post/story/chapter/thing on Literotica. I feel as though I've just gotten started.

0_o

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Yanna finally explained to the other guests what had happened to her in as dry a way as she could. She told the true version of the tale of her escape and what she knew of the others who had taken their own lives before the heat of the flames could reach them.

"I know something of it," one woman said and all eyes turned to her. Shahbek was the leader of a small clan of assassins who traveled the sandy wastes picking up what work they could in the cities and towns of the greener places that bordered the wastes. The woman was dressed in trousers of some sort, and her tall leanness hinted at more of a masculine figure than she carried. Even so, there was not that much in the way of womanly curves there. Anything that could be seen of her body spoke to a sense of wiry muscles and a life lived fully, if not right on the hard edge of survival. She wore long over-robes that hid many of her secrets, most of them sharp-edged, and she wore a veil that hid most of her face, though the dark blue eyes that looked out told enough of her personality.

"I knew such a one once," she said. "We were in Sippar to rob a magician's home. We had heard of - and seen - such treasures that the threat of his power was not enough to keep the thoughts from our minds. In the planning of it, we spent time learning what we could of the man and the home. I came to him pretending to be a merchant of fine rugs, and I offered to make one for him that would be the finest in the city. While I was there, I saw that he kept such a cage as you told of. There was only one creature in it, and she was as you have described. Unlike you, she was more of a lioness to my eyes, but like you, she was dark. The magician told me that the dark ones were the strongest and were the hardest ones to change."

"As it happened, he was summoned away for a time by his servant, and I was left alone with her."

Shahbek looked around the tent, "I have made no secret of it and I am certain that it is well-known that I enjoy lying with men or women on occasion. I have taken many lovers in my time, but I will say that in the time that I was alone with that creature, we felt something between us in one instant, and I soon forgot about all of the treasures in that home but one. I promised that I would return to free her."

"I went back the next week, having learned that the man would be away, and I freed the creature in the middle of the night while the rest took what treasures they could."

She smiled softly for a moment and looked up. "That lion-girl was the greatest love of my life before she died."

The chieftain looked at Yanna and Illya, "I will tell what I know of what the man does and why, but I will not tell it all to everyone here. I can see how you love each other, and so I have words for you alone before I leave. You should prepare to find the limits of your courage," she said to Illya, "for she will need much from you, and you, cat-girl, you will weep more bitter tears before this is over -- if it even comes close to ending."

What was discussed next related to the taking of the city. Plans were laid and roles were discussed before the group broke up. The ones who remained were the mysterious clan leader, Lugalbanda, Nisi-ini-su and the mismatched young pair.

"I need to know," he said, "the purpose for what is done to these women. This one that you knew," he asked, "did you know what people she was from?"

"Aye," Shahbek nodded grimly, "Martu like the rest of us. He does it to Martu girls because we are a people who have magic, and most of us have some ability, though in almost all, it is but small. That changes nothing, for it is still there, and it is what he seeks. Also, it suits his purpose to use Martu women because wherever we go in the cities of others, we are often looked down upon and the people care nothing if a Martu girl has been turned into a wild thing for them to stare at in a cage. He seeks to grow his power out of it and Martu girls give him the best chance."

"What killed the one that you knew?" Nisi-ini-su asked.

She drew a sad breath. "What killed my lover was a piece of knowledge, Priestess. We lived and loved together for years, her and I. But I learned one thing of it and I told her and it was the beginning of the end. I have wished for so long that I had held my tongue. I found her one morning dead. She had cut her own throat deeply in the night and killed herself."

Yanna took a deep breath herself. "Chieftain, I have lived my horror for a long while. Now I have my man and I want to live more than anything -- even as what I am. I am sure that I can bear anything now but the loss of this one here," she said as she put her arm on Illya.

The woman shook her head, "I believe that you likely cannot bear this, but much depends on your family. Did you ever see them again after you were changed? Did they look for you?"

Yanna shook her head. "I wondered why for a long time. The city is not that large, and even I had heard of the cage where wild ones were kept so that people could see them, though I never went to look. Why?"

The chieftain reached out and touched Yanna's black mane. "The answer is here, I think. Is there another one in your family with black hair? This sorcerer, he wants Martu girls, as I have said. Any Martu girl can give him some power, but the ones with black hair can be turned to the strongest of these creatures that he has made you and it gives him the most of their ability when he takes it from them soon after they die, for he cannot take it while they live. They all starve themselves and as soon as may be after that, he takes what he can of their ability. But black hair is uncommon among us, no?"

Shahbek sighed, "That piece of filth must die, Priest," she said, looking at Lugalbanda, "this magician has caused so much heartache and death. If you have need of my help for this, I would gladly give it in memory of my own wild girl."

She turned to the young archer, "Hold her tightly now, my young friend. If she still seeks to know, I will tell it, and then you must make her want to live even more than you might have already done."

She looked at Yanna and the girl nodded, "Tell it."

"Very well," she said. "Once he sees one that he wants, he learns what he can of her and her family. In a private moment, he approaches the father and begins to pour his poison into the man's ears. If the girl's father is stupid and prideful, the poison takes hold and soon, the girl is his."

"He tells the father that there is only one way for a Martu to have black hair. It is not the only way, of course, and it might be the truth and then it might not be. He tells that the mother must have taken a lover and that the girl is not his daughter, but another man's. It goes easier if the girl is a little strong-minded and likes to see her friends late at night after curfew or if she argues sometimes with her father. It makes everything go easier and usually presents the best opportunity. The father takes the payment, and the town guard take their bribe and catch the girl when they have the chance of it. They have their fun with her most often, and then she is given to the sorcerer. If this is how it went with your father, then I can also tell you that your mother is likely dead by now, no matter what truth there was to the tale."

"This is the thing that I learned. I sought this knowledge because my lover wanted to know about her family. When I told her what I knew, it began to crush her, and I have been in pain and guilt ever since."

There was an angry hiss from Yanna. "My mother was dead before that, I am sure of it,"she said. "I knew that they fought, but I never listened much to it. I think that I might know why now. My father told me that my mother would run away to be with her lover and I never believed it for a moment. What is this of a payment?"

The assassin shrugged, "Money to keep a secret eases much in the consciences of some and it provides for the guilt in both directions so that a man may not change his mind after and tell of it."

Shahbek looked at the young woman trapped in a body that was both human and catlike, "You are not distressed and wounded by this?" the chieftain asked.

"I think that I must grieve for my mother," Yanna said with quiet determination, "but before this, I need to know what happened to my father."

"I think that you are a very brave and strong young woman," Shahbek said, "I am one who comes slowly to deciding about people, but to me, your heart shines."

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Yanna wandered off to be alone with her thoughts. It didn't take her long to decide that she didn't like the company. Rather than think about how her own reflections could turn against her as had happened to the chieftain's lover, she decided to seek out the one who seemed to have enough determination for them both.

She saw him standing on a low hill looking at the city. Yanna began to walk toward Illya, but then wondered if he was having his own doubts. She shook her head angrily and went to him. If her life had only one constant now -- one thing that couldn't be doubted, it had to be Illya.

Illya knew that Yanna approached long before she reached him. He wasn't all that interested in the city. He was just thinking that his life now seemed so much better to him on the outside of it.

He felt her arms on his shoulders as she stood behind him and rested her chin on her forearm. They were silent for a minute as they looked out over the place that had caused them so much misery. The wind whipped his long hair and her mane together. Depending on the fitful way that it blew, one or the other -- or both would feel the light lashing of it against their young faces.

"I love you, Yanna," he said.

His reward for it was her first sigh. She reached under his arms and hugged him tightly, and he listened to her second, deeper sigh.

"Thank you, Illya," she said, "I was afraid from your look that you now had other thoughts about us."

He half-turned his head and she saw his little smile. "I meant what was said, Beauty. You have me always."

"I worried," she said, "not only for what was meant, but I find that I have no answer when I think of how we will manage together. I think on it, but I never find an answer."

"I have no answer either, Yanna, but then the answer comes to me in a word. We will manage somehow. This must be harder for you because of everything, but for me, it is easy. When you have nothing, there is nothing to lose. What we have is each other, my friend, and that makes us richer for it."

He turned around and they held each other for a long time. "And I am richer than any king," he smiled.

"It is only hard when you try to think of something solid -- the exact way -- the plan that is needed."

He kissed her. "I only need to know that I have you. With that, nothing seems impossible. Look at us, Yanna. How can we two love? And yet, we do, no? I knew that we could long ago. If they can make you a girl again, I would be as happy as I am now -- maybe even happier, only because it is what you want. But if they cannot undo this, do not worry about me. I fell in love twice; once with a girl that I could never have and once with the same girl over again. I love what is inside -- and outside, Yanna. You were wondrous to me before, and now you are the same, only different. I cannot say how, but I know that it matters not to me. I love you just the same."

He held up his arm so that she could see the bracelet that she'd placed on him. "This says that I am yours. I can be happy either way that you look."

He looked a little concerned as he studied her face. "But that it not the only worry that you have, is it?"

She shook her head uncertainly. "There are two things, Illya. What about children? I have been this way for a year now. In that time, I have not had my time. I have not bled in the way of women as I did before. This is strange in itself. There are women who bleed only lightly when their time comes. I was not one of them, and the cramps were terrible for me. I do not miss that, but I think that I cannot give you children." She looked down, "And anyway, if I could, what would they be?"

"Do not carry that as though it was a great weight, Yanna," he said, "we have only been free together as we are for a day. We have time to worry about it. That we could not have children is not something to bother ourselves over for a little while, surely. But there is another thing, I think."

She nodded, "I may need for you to do something that I do not think I will be able to do."

He smiled, seeking to reassure her. "These things that we wear are to say that we are together. Part of that is that each of us does for the other what they cannot do. If something is beyond you, Yanna, and you want it, I will do what you want if I can." He kissed her again and said "I would do anything for you, Yanna."

She hugged him tightly and squeezed a pair of tears from her eyes as she whispered to him, "I love you so, Illya. Thank you."

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In the city, the fires were mostly out, but it didn't take long for the people to clamor for grain. The king gave orders to open the outlying granaries which contained the farmer's share of the harvest. Columns of troops were assembled along with a long line of wagons. Once the last of these had left the city, the gates were locked.

No one noticed while this went on, but one old woman made her way to a seldom-used and little-known old gate at the back of the town that once led to a now-filled refuse pit. It took a little quiet effort, but once she had the small gate open, forty-three women entered the city in groups of two or three.

Before the first of the outlying granaries was reached by the troops and wagons, Martu warriors rode over the crests of the nearby hills to sit on their mounts and look down at the shocked troops. Until now, the soldiers thought that their main purpose in this was to provide a little threatening muscle in coercing any farmers who didn't like the idea of starvation. When they turned to look back at the city, they saw the way blocked by many more fighters.

The city guards watched from the wall, along with King Hadanish. He called for his three thousand mounted troops to ride out, but as these reached the fight which had already begun, many more Martu arrived as well to close the trap completely. By the early evening, two hundred Martu lay dead and no city troops lived outside the walls. Between the thousands of fighters and the dead riders, there were no breathing Sumerians left outside, other than the farmers who had been left alone as had been promised to them.

The watchers on the walls noted that the city dead were being loaded into the grain wagons and carted off. At first, there was speculation that the Martu planned to eat the dead, but soon their plan became apparent as the bodies were thrown onto heaps to be set alight -- upwind of the city, so that the stench would carry to the noses of the people trapped inside.

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Before the pall of the pyres had really gotten started, there were some who sought to capitalize on the state of unease inside the walls. Some merchants now charged very steep prices indeed for even the usual staples that many families needed to feed themselves. When the ones who had held their prices were sold out, the crowds reluctantly came to the ones who wanted near to blood for their goods.

One such merchant was making money hand over fist. The trick of it, he knew, was that one had to be aware of the timing. At some point, he knew that he would have to appear magnanimous and let the crowds take what they wanted from his stall before they got too desperate. It didn't matter much, he thought. He'd already made many times more than he normally would on even his best day. War was good for his business, he thought.

Across the market square, a thin hooded figure looked at him for a long while. At last the figure turned to the one next to her with a nod. "It is him."

The second figure made a sign with her hand, and the merchant was knocked into darkness with a club from behind. His purse full of coins fell to the ground and spilled everywhere. No one even looked at it. They wanted food.

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In his bed chamber, King Hadanish found himself desperately waving his sword in a corner facing four armed women while eight kept watch and twenty more roamed the halls and killed anyone they saw. The floor was littered with the bodies of those he'd ordered to protect him.

"He doesn't look like much, does he?" one said to another in a tongue that the king didn't understand.

"No, and his little thing there looks to be lacking whatever hopefulness attracts the goddess to his dreams," the second said. "The dreams of a king are not so very different from that of any man, perhaps."

"There is a difference," the third one said, "The dreams and wishes of most men end with a fistful of their seed. The dreams of this one likely end with his seed inside a slave. Perhaps his eyes are failing him and the one who takes his seed tells him that she is the goddess. It does not matter. He barters for gold as he strokes knowing that there will be a war from it. He cares nothing for the ones who fight or the poor people caught in it."

One of the women sheathed her sword and produced a short straw. The four approached him and a second later, his fine sword fell to the floor with a clatter, knocked easily from his grasp by one who knew how to use a weapon. Another of them punched him lightly in the middle of his throat and when he inhaled after gagging, the woman with the straw blew the powder into his open mouth.

The king lost consciousness within twelve seconds.

Thirty minutes later, a cart trundled away from the small gate, and the forty-three women left with it in the gathering gloom.

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In a single smallish tent in the middle of a sea of them, Yanna lay in the embrace of her lover. She didn't feel much like doing anything, lost in the thoughts which caused her doubts. Illya sensed it and did his best to show her that she was loved with his slow and soft kisses and the way that he held her and stroked her body. It was very different from the previous evening. He wasn't trying to rouse her. He only wanted to show her that her troubles were his as well.

"Come," she said finally, turning her head back to lick his face, "take me, but be gentle, Illya. It is not your fault that I have things on my mind, and I will always share my body with you."

"If we love, Yanna," he said softly, "I want it to be between us, and not only your sharing, though I am thankful for your kind thoughts. If you do not wish it, then I do not either. But if you want me, then what I want this night is something soft and kind between us so that you might feel better."

"I don't think that I can, my love, but try to show me anyway."

He rose up a little and Yanna pulled a pillow to her for something to hold and she held her haunches up for him, moving her long tail aside. In a little while, she found that he'd surprised her yet again. She purred loud and long at what he did for her and in spite of the things on her mind, she felt his love in a different way and thanked their gods again for bringing him to her. She'd never have imagined that he could make her feel so loved and wanted.

"Promise me, Illya," she sighed as she wept the tears that surprised her, "promise me that you will do this for me whenever I am sad. I always learn much from you." Her tail flicked its furry way along his side.