Pleasure's Offering (15 page)

“Don’t glare like that, Silas,” Zoa said, her voice far too light for the barely restrained power and menace rolling off the man in front of them. “We came as fast as we could. Whatever you seem to think when you set our deadlines, flying isn’t one of the gifts Dezira gives her Chosen.”

Jeric shivered and took a protective step closer to Zoa. Taunting this man seemed suicidally foolish, but to his enormous surprise, the temple head’s killing glare fell away into a look that, while not a smile, was positively indulgent by comparison. “Good to have you back,” he said, and then the cold glare was back as his eyes moved to Jeric. “You must be the one Zoa brought into power. What is your name, Chosen?”

“Jeric Ballent,” Jeric answered, standing at attention out of long trained habit.

That seemed to impress Silas more than anything else. “A military white moon?” he said, his thin lips quirking as he walked across the temple floor to stand before them. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

“You haven’t seen the half of it,” Zoa said, grabbing Jeric’s hand. “He can do amazing things with barriers. He’s a white moon truly, a protector, but I’ll make a full report later. Right now we have a more pressing problem.”

Silas’ face grew hard as a stone blade. “I believe I know what you’re talking about.” He glanced at Jeric. “Leave us, white moon. This is none of your concern.”

“No,” Jeric and Zoa said at the same time.

Jeric would have said more, but Zoa squeezed his hand. “Jeric knows the story of my Awakening,” she said. “I trust him with my life and you would be wise to do the same, or do you have so many trusted Avatars you can afford to dismiss an honorable soldier and brave Chosen of the Lady?”

Silas heaved a put-upon sigh. “Fine,” he said, glancing at Jeric. “If Zoa vouches for you, you can stay. The fact that she trusted you with the story of her Awakening is proof enough for me that you’re not like the others of your ilk.”

Jeric frowned at the implied insult and Zoa clarified. “Like most dark moons, Silas seems to think that all of us who choose the path of pleasure and fulfillment are flippant and soft.”

“Most are,” Silas said, but there was no venom in the words. It sounded like an old argument. “But I’m always happy to meet an exception, if that is indeed what you are.”

“I’ve been called many things, sir,” Jeric said. “Soft was never one of them.”

Silas looked pleased as a cat with a mouse at being called sir, and just like that, Jeric felt the temple head recategorize him from liability to weapon. He wasn’t sure if that was an improvement or not.

Zoa rolled her eyes at the bravado and got down to business. “Five days ago, on the dark of the moon, I felt something through my bond. I couldn’t get more than a feeling, but I believe Toric cast something that night, a spell of enormous power.”

She said all of this in a calm, businesslike voice, but Jeric knew his lover well enough to hear the tiny tremble when she said Toric’s name, and he tightened his grip on her hand. Silas’ watchful eyes caught the movement and his face grew thoughtful.

“That would explain a great many things,” he said. “You’ve been gone a while, so I don’t know how much you’ve heard, but things are bad here in the city. The drought has decimated the grain supply, leaving many hungry and desperate. The refugees have been flooding in for months now, but it really got bad last week when the emperor ordered the grain vaults shut.”

“What?” Jeric said. “The whole purpose of the grain vaults is to keep the people fed so they don’t rebel. What’s he thinking, closing the vaults in winter?”

“Oh, it gets worse,” Silas said. “Our dear emperor has never paid much attention to his Empire, but even he isn’t usually this stupid. Unfortunately, no one’s been able to ask him why he gave the order, because Emperor Vallus has been locked in his cousin’s house for nearly five months now and refuses to come out.”

Zoa’s tremble was all Jeric needed to know what cousin Silas meant. “Toric Vallus,” he said.

Silas nodded. “Toric’s home is very nearly a temple to Dezira in itself and the orgies he throws have made him the emperor’s favorite since the blessed Millus Vallus ascended the throne a decade ago. Even so, it’s never been like this. This is no extended visit between like-minded men. The emperor has practically moved into Toric’s palace and refuses to see anyone or give any order other than to be left alone. Normally, I’d say we’d be better off without the fat old donkey, but the Empire is in a dire state. The Senate can’t pass emergency measures without the emperor’s seal, but the clerks can’t even get past Toric’s door. It’s gotten so bad that those idiots across the square woke up enough to send in one of their gold-plated muscle men.”

“Silas is referring to the Chosen of Solus, Avatars of the Great Sun,” Zoa clarified with a pointed look at the temple head. “You know, one of the five great gods? Dezira’s own brother?”

“Yes, yes,” Silas said, scowling with annoyance. “And blessed be his name and all that. But if his followers were half as clever as they are proud, they’d have sent an Avatar in months ago. The Empire is supposed to be sacred to Solus, after all. You wouldn’t think his Chosen would allow things to slide this much.”

“Solus is the god of good governance as well as war,” Zoa said, drawing herself up. “Good governance means trusting the system you helped create.”

“By Dezira, Zoa,” Silas said. “Could you stop being such a white moon for just a moment and actually listen to what I am saying? They sent in one of Solus’ warriors days ago and he hasn’t come out yet. Avatars of the Sun aren’t known for their patience. I’d expected him to come with the emperor slung over his shoulder within the hour, but there hasn’t been so much as a peep from Toric’s house.”

“What do you think happened, then?” Jeric said. “Are they holding the Avatar captive?”

“You don’t hold the Sun’s Own,” Silas said with a wave of his hand. “Not unless you drop a mountain on them, and maybe not then. Truth be told, I don’t know what’s going on. If the Chosen weren’t specifically banned from killing each other, I would have said Toric took care of him.”

“Could he have enslaved him with lust?” Zoa asked, her voice shaking a little.

“No,” Silas said. “They’re not fully immune like we are, but Solus protects his Chosen from all enslavements, especially his sister’s. If your story of his casting a great magic five days ago is true, though, that may hold the answer, though I have no idea what spell he’d be casting.” Silas shook his head in frustration. “Only one thing is certain,” he continued. “Whatever is happening in that house, it needs to stop. Now. Before we have rebellion in the streets.”

“This makes no sense,” Jeric said quietly. “Toric is a Vallus, a member of the Imperial family. He has more to lose from a rebellion than anyone save maybe the emperor himself. Why is he doing this?”

“Because Toric desires power above all else,” Zoa said quietly, her face growing uncharacteristically grim. “The whole country is dancing to his tune right now, and I imagine that makes him positively delighted. He’d gladly watch us all burn if it meant he got to satisfy his desire for control.”

“Then why doesn’t Dezira do something?” Jeric snapped. “Toric is her Chosen, isn’t he? Surely she can stop him.”

Silas looked at him for a second, and then he burst out laughing. The sound was unexpectedly good humored from such a bitter, cold man, but before Jeric could adjust, Silas’ laughter stopped and the temple head fixed him with an incredulous stare. “Just whose Chosen do you think you are, soldier? Solus is the one who cares about government. Dezira is our goddess, and she cares only for desire. As Zoa said, Toric’s desire is power, and from the moment he was Awakened, he’s followed his desire with a single mindedness rarely seen even among the Moon’s Own. That’s why, despite all the problems he causes and his occasional fits of rebellion, he remains one of Dezira’s most treasured Chosen. Our goddess demands only that we follow our desires, and that’s exactly what Toric’s doing. So long as he does that, he acts in her name, and Dezira will not lift a finger, white or black, to stop him. She never does. In my whole life, the only time I’ve ever heard of Dezira standing between her Chosen and their desire is when it directly contradicted her own.”

Silas looked at Zoa as he said that last bit, and Zoa bowed her head with a whispered prayer, but Jeric was in no mood to listen. “If Dezira doesn’t care, why do you?” he said. “Why are we even having this conversation if Toric is free to do as he likes?”

“Because our temple is in the Empire,” Toric said, like this was too obvious for words. “And because
my
desire has nothing to do with carrying the lot of you like a damn mother bear through what is sure to be a bloody and protracted rebellion if we don’t do something.”

Jeric opened his mouth to point out that this left them right back at the beginning when a knock on the door broke the tension. Silas growled, which must have been what passed for assent here, because the door opened and a young acolyte came in, bowing low.

“Temple head,” she said. “There’s a Legion captain here to see Chosen Zoa and Chosen Jeric.”

Silas bared his teeth, which were white and sharp. “And you interrupted me to say this because?”

The acolyte trembled. “He will not leave, Temple Head, and he has Imperial Guards with him.”

“For the Moon’s sake, Silas,” Zoa said, her voice exasperated. “That’s Captain Izar of the Fifth Legion, hero of the Northern Front, and he’s with us.” She turned to the acolyte. “Show him in, Helma. Quickly.”

The girl bowed and fled. Silas, however, turned on Zoa with a predatory scowl. “‘With you’?”

“Yes,” Zoa said. “And you’ll be very glad of that soon. If Izar’s here already, it’s likely because he knows about the emperor’s disappearance into Toric’s palace and he very well might have a plan to get him out. They don’t call him the Fox of the North for nothing.”

She’d barely finished speaking when Izar came in. “Have you found out what spell Toric was casting?” he asked, marching over to them and kissing them each on the cheek.

“Not yet,” Jeric said. “Have you heard about the missing Avatar of Solus?”

Izar nodded. “Straight from the man who sent him in, actually.” He glanced at Silas. “Who’s this?”

Silas crossed his arms. “That’s my question, mortal,” he said coldly, looking Izar up and down. His eyes narrowed as he did, flicking from Zoa to Jeric and back again. “Why does he know about Toric’s spell? And why are you all tied together?”

“What do you mean, ‘tied together’?” Zoa asked.

Silas looked almost insulted. “I’ve been a Chosen for a long, long time, Zoa. Part of that age means I can see the bonds our Lady forges. You and Jeric I expected, since you brought him into power as a white moon like yourself, but this man, this mortal, is tied to you just as tightly.” He glanced at each of them again, and then he shook his head. “You are going to have to tell me what happened up in that northern waste.”

“Later,” Zoa said. “Right now, we have to do something about Toric.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Izar said. “It’s a difficult situation. For all that Vallus is a pig and a waste, he’s still emperor, and he’s ordered that he is to be left alone. That means none of us in the Legion or the Imperial Guard can just march in and grab him without committing treason. And since it’s not a money or legal issue, the Senate can’t override the order and send their own guards either. That’s why they sent in the Avatar, but he hasn’t come out and they can’t reach him. The Legion Commander has been trying to get the Temple of Solus to send in another, but the General of the Sun’s Chosen is worried that such an act will pit Solus directly against the emperor and they’re not willing to do something that drastic yet.”

“Of course not,” Silas said. “Solus values order and governance above all else. It is by his blessing that the Empire was founded in the first place. Sending one Avatar was a courtesy, sending more would be a sign of weakness in the blessed Imperial family. And then there’s the issue of the missing Avatar. I’m sure the Sun’s Chosen are mortified by the idea that one of them could possibly have been lured in by Dezira’s ‘debauchery.’ It’s an embarrassing position for them all around, and considering how highly the Great Sun values his dignity, I wouldn’t count on them doing anything more without outright rebellion.”

Izar’s mouth quirked in the way Jeric knew meant the captain was trying very, very hard not to laugh. “The Legion Commander said something similar,” Izar said at last. “Though not quite in that fashion, but I think it’s clear by now we can count on no more help from the Great Sun.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll help,” Silas said. “He’s just going to be roundabout with it. Solus loves to meddle.”

“I think it is Dezira who needs to meddle this time,” Izar said. “Toric Vallus is the man at the heart of all this and he’s one of yours. My question, and the Legion’s, is what do the Moon’s Chosen mean to do?”

“The Chosen of Dezira belong to none save the Lady,” Silas said, crossing his arms.

“But you said yourself we need to stop this,” Zoa said hotly. “And any way you look at it, we are the best suited for it. Even the Avatars of the Great Sun aren’t fully immune to Toric’s lust, we are. He has no power over us and your dark moon is stronger than his.”

Silas glared at her, and then he heaved a long sigh. “I cannot stop Toric so long as he’s in his home,” he said. “He built a barrier against me years ago. Spent a month of his orgies to do it too. Said he was sick my ‘interference.’ I was actually working on breaking it when you came in, but I won’t be through for at least a week, which may well be too late.” He took a deep breath. “The trouble is that Toric is a very strong Avatar, the strongest living dark moon other than myself. We Chosen may be forbidden to kill each other, but if half the rumors I hear are true, Toric is very, very good at making you wish you were dead. I am the head of this temple. Dark moon I may be, but even I’m not cruel enough to ask one of the Lady’s Chosen to walk into that.”