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Excerpt: “The Kahmudjan envoys arrive this afternoon, your grace,” Casmin reminded her, his tone serious. “Will you receive them?” She shrugged. “I will, though I wish I knew why they were coming.” His voice tightened with concern. “In Tilanta, it is said that the Kahmujans preached the burning of the temple. In other places too, they have led the attacks upon your priestesses.” “I know,” Adita acknowledged. She stroked his arm with her fingers, trying to will him to relax. “But we cannot turn their envoy away. We have an army here, Casmin, should we need it.” “Do you trust them?” He asked pointedly. She held silent for a few steps. “They do not have to be our enemies. They are not unbelievers. They do not deny Zenthe’s existence, or her power. It is her role in the cycle of life that we disagree on.” “You didn’t answer my question,” he prodded. She sighed. “Trust them? No, I don’t trust them.” The comfort she had taken, from the sun, from her own touch, from the warmth of Casmin’s muscled arm faded into worry. The Kahmudjan sect was only one of a dozen concerns that darkened the world. Foremost among the burdens she carried was the absence of any would-be suitors. The land suffered for the goddess’ frustration. Within the temple, Adita heard the whispers and sensed the power of her command faltering. Even at the mountain’s rim, there were new beliefs and whispered heresies. Some of the priestesses pursued rites that were darker than the goddess’ customary practices, and even some of the grand orgies had taken on a desperate cast. She wondered if the Kahmudjans might offer a kind of hope, that their visit might be an excuse for a revival of Zenthe’s core faith. “But we will greet them as we would other guests,” she told him. “Such is my will.” A rasp of disapproval framed Casmin’s reply. “They do not respect Zenthe or our ways. They’d as soon see you in chains as negotiate with you.” Adita grinned, a tickle of rebellion reminding her of days long past. “Now there’s an idea. Chains might be fun.” He turned to her, his gaze as serious as his frown. “Those are not the kind of chains I mean, your grace.” She elbowed him gently. “Oh, lighten up. And trust me. If I thought a rousing bout of bondage games would help relax the Kahmudjans and make them more reasonable, I’d tie them up myself.” He smiled uneasily, then chuckled and extended his stride to walk in front of her, up the path to the back gate of the temple. With a surety born of repetition, he unlatched the gate and held it open for her. She stepped through and turned back to regard him with a look of gratitude and warmth, before allowing herself the pleasure of stroking the hard lines of his chest. “I will greet them, Casmin, and make them welcome, but stay near me this evening. Remember always how much I need you.” Then she kissed him lightly upon the lips and walked alone into the temple of the goddess.
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