Remembered (5 page)

“Yes,” Galia sighed.

She rolled on her side to touch her rear gingerly. It was unmarked for the most part, except for the intense heat. There was one, fat welt where Mina had struck the last blow, but she could feel even that going down. It would remind her of her switching every time she sat down tomorrow, and that made her smile.

“I think we will survive this place,” Galia said.

“We will,” Mina promised.

F
ive Years
Later

T
he Oracle glared at Galia
.

“You seriously think that the poor won’t simply swarm the wagons? You truly think this will help?”

Galia nodded, her eyes bright.

“There are children on the edges of Tenebris who go to bed hungry five nights out of six. This will help.”

The Oracle shook her head.

“On your head be it. You will make the decisions soon enough, and the people of the city might as well realize what an idiot they have.”

Despite her cutting tone, there was something that was almost grudgingly respectful about the way she spoke to Galia now. The last five years had heralded many changes. Galia had finally learned that the Oracle was an empath, and the white wolf was her animal familiar. It was only fitting that Galia knew, since she was now the Oracle’s successor. She had been initiated into the mysteries of the Goddess of Tenebris. She had overseen the votive offerings. Galia was coming to know the force of the Goddess as well. She could feel the power there, and the longer she worked with it, the more she could feel her own prescient skills come into existence.

But also as the years passed, she thought no less frequently of Strayke. Memories tinged with sadness seemed always to hover close by. At times they would startle her at night, or when she sat at lessons with the Oracle. She wondered if he would recognize her now, dressed in green silk with gold clasps at her shoulders. She was not the frightened northern girl he had last seen. She wondered how he had changed, or if he had even survived.

As Galia walked through the halls of the palace, she turned her mind to thoughts of what lay ahead. Tenebris called itself the richest and most powerful city in the world, but Galia had walked around the fringes of the city, where the poor were kept. She saw how they lived, and how even a small amount of food could save lives.

If we feed them a copper’s worth of bread, they’ll let us pull gold pieces from their hides and their hearts.

She shook the cruel words out of her head, though she knew in her heart they were true. She had learned to think more and more like the Oracle over the years, though she had never lost a certain softness that made her mistress despair. They would never be the same Oracle, no matter when she stepped up. The Oracle was feared before all else. Her judgements and predictions had saved the city time after time, and her punishments were swift. Galia, with her soft heart and her eye towards the most vulnerable, was something else. Sometimes, when she walked, women would ask for her to bless their wombs, or the vendors would ask her to bless the tools of their trade. She was a different face of the Goddess, and the people around her knew it. Her thoughts were full of bread and grain when Mina came around the corner.

Mina was at least twenty pounds heavier than she was when she first came to the palace, and it was pure muscle. She wore a sword belted at her waist, and when Galia needed to venture into town, it was usually Mina and some of her rough friends from the barracks accompanying her. Galia smiled immediately, and then covered it at once.

“Good afternoon, beautiful lady,” Mina said, stepping to one side with her hand over her heart.

It was an old fashioned and even obsequious way of greeting her, but it suited Mina somehow. Sometimes, Galia wondered if it only suited Mina because they both knew that in the darkest reaches of the night, it would be Mina who drove her to passion’s height, who pounded her rear with a hairbrush, who bit her hard enough to leave bruises.

They passed one another in the hall, and Galia was careful to look away. She could feel the marks that Mina had left on her breasts still. The faint and arousing pain accompanied her as she made her way to the accounting rooms, where the money for the palace was tallied and scored. She needed to find a way to pay for the bread.

She worked with Rhea on the accounts. They sat for hours, poring over the ledgers, before Galia finally had to stretch and give it up.

“My head is full of numbers and I think if I keep going, it will turn to mush,” she said. “I’ll come back to this tomorrow, and we can decide then. Would that be all right?”

“We can come to this again,” Rhea said, putting her stylus down. “Though I still don’t know why you’d send perfectly good food to the edges of the city.” She shook her head and stood. “Now let me take you by the hand, and walk you to the kitchens. I know that you’ve not eaten since morning. If I let you go, you will simply tell me that you don’t care enough to eat before tomorrow.”

Galia smiled and allowed herself to be led away from the books. Sometimes it felt as if Rhea was truly the one who made the palace run smoothly. She was of an age with the Oracle. In the same way that the Oracle had made herself the spine of the city, Rhea had made herself the busy heart of the palace. Galia had learned that Rhea’s Wiccan gift was astral projection. With it, she monitored virtually everything.

“Are you prepared for the Longest Day?” Rhea asked as they walked. “It will be coming soon.”

“Prepared enough, I think.” Galia was hedging, and from the look on Rhea’s face, she knew it. “Honestly, I’m a little afraid. I don’t know what’s going to happen, and the Oracle won’t tell me, either.”

Rhea’s smile was warm, as she squeezed Galia’s hand. “Well, it is nothing less than the Oracle went through herself after all. She survived it, and so will you.”

“The Oracle has ice water in her veins, but I will try to take comfort in your words. I only hate not knowing.”

The Oracle had decided that the time had come for Galia to take on some of the duties of the priestess. She needed to rise up in the eyes of the Goddess, and the time for doing so would be the Longest Day. It would begin a season of revelry in the city, and it would only end with the Firefly Festival a month later. Galia didn’t know what it would mean to become the inviolate priestess that the Oracle was. A great part of her feared it, though she knew it was a step she had to take. If the Oracle said she was ready, then she was ready.

Over the years, her gift had snapped into focus, as she had become more fully herself. Though Tenebris was powerful and beautiful, there was something terrifying about it and its Goddess. When Galia could feel that Goddess searching for her, something at the bottom of her soul quaked. She did not know if she would be the priestess that the Oracle had been. She didn’t know if she could live up to the woman’s legacy. All she knew was that she had to try.

When they reached the common hall, Rhea went to the kitchen to retrieve two plates for them. The comforting smell of warm brown stew made Galia realize how hungry she was.

“Thank you,” she said to Rhea. “I swear I would have starved a thousand times over if it had not been for you.”

Rhea’s smile was a little wistful.

“I’ve always felt like I had to look after you. My sisters were taken from me when they were so young. I can only hope that someone is taking care of them too.”

Technically, they were both slaves, property of the palace and the city of Tenebris. Of all of the servants of the Goddess, only the Oracle was truly free. After her initiation, Galia would enjoy much more freedom. However, it was only after she truly stepped up that she would earn the freedoms of a true priestess, and successor to the Oracle.

Galia ate her stew gratefully, feeling the meat and vegetables nourish her body. She was just beginning to recover when a shout was raised up from the courtyard. Galia frowned.

“Is there a delegation from the city coming?” she asked Rhea. “Or some group from foreign lands?”

Rhea, who kept her fingers firmly on the pulse of the palace, looked similarly baffled.

“I have no clue. Stay here, I’m going to go look.”

Galia had no intention of being left behind and followed Rhea closely. They came to the enormous gate that lead to the courtyard. It was chaos, with soldiers, dogs and horses everywhere. At the center of it was a man who wore a leather, wolf mask. He sat astride an enormous horse, as calm and quiet as a statue. He looked around as if surveying a land he intended to conquer. The marks on his armor were plentiful. He was no lordling come to strut. Instead, it was easy to see that he was a conqueror. It reminded Galia of her own people, lost to raiders years ago. Even after all this time, she prickled.

There were only a frightened pair of palace acolytes cringing in the shadows. Galia realized grimly that, as the only priestess here, it was her duty to step forward.

She gathered up her skirts and strode across the courtyard towards the masked man. Whether by accident or design, the other riders and animals shied away from her. She kept her eyes fastened on him as she approached. She could tell when he saw her. He and his mount went still. Somehow, she had no doubt that he was waiting for her.

“Greetings, soldier,” she called. “What brings you and yours to the palace of Tenebris?” She waited expectantly, but there was no response from him. Had he not heard her? “What business have you, soldier?”

One of the many massive dogs that danced around the horses legs snarled and snapped. The leader’s wolf mask turned that way briefly. He was not deaf.

“I ask you again, what is your business?” she demanded. “You will tell me, or you will be sent from here and your mission lost.”

Still he said nothing, and Galia could feel her temper rising. People usually didn’t cross her. Her visions could bring life or death, prosperity or ruin. This man sat like a king of the world. But in this palace in the city of Tenebris, he was nothing of the sort.

“If you will not speak, then stay silent and leave this place,” Galia said.

She looked around for the captain of the guard. But at just that moment, a fight broke out among the dogs. A horse near them took fright. The soldier astride it tried to rein it in, but only succeeded in wheeling it about––straight at her. The horse stumbled, trying to regain its balance, hooves lashing out, but Galia could see it was too late. She was too close. Rhea screamed.

But suddenly the masked man dove off his horse and snatched her up. He hooked an enormous arm around her waist, dragging her out of harm’s way as effortlessly as if she were a kitten.

The soldier who had almost ridden her down got his horse under control and gaped down in dismay.

“My apologies, Lord,” he said, his face white. “I did not see her, I swear!”

For the first time, the masked man spoke.

“Short rations for two days. On the night between, you will stand vigil before the Goddess, asking for more perceptive eyes.”

Instead of looking irritated or enraged, the man seemed extremely grateful. He saluted fervently before losing himself in the crowd again.

Galia squirmed around to look at the man. She had heard his voice, and yet somehow didn’t feel surprise. Instead what she felt was a low thrum in her belly. The fate of the world was turning, looking for a place to stop. Without asking for permission, she simply reached for the leather thongs that secured the mask. She was gentle and unhurried. When she pulled the wolf face away, she let out a sigh that she hadn’t been aware she was holding.

“I know you,” she whispered.

“We shall see,” Strayke said, letting her go and stepping back. “Summon the Oracle. Tell her that the Wolf Battalion has returned.”

I
n her chamber that night
, Galia sat staring at the flames of her hearth. She felt as empty as a dry seashell, as hollow as a ruin.

He’s back,
her heart said, beating fast whenever she thought of it.
After all these years, after all of the pain, and the fear and the tears, he’s back.

She remembered the look in his eyes. There had been no joy in it. There had been no love or laughter. If she thought too long about it, she would have said that there was something dead. Her heart ached for Strayke, but there was also fear. She had all but condemned him to the life that he led now. If the armor was anything to judge by, it was hardly an easy life. Did he hate her? Did he want her dead?

Galia got up to pace, but there was a small knock at her window. With a small cry of relief, she ran and let Mina in. To her shock, Mina’s face was wreathed in a happy smile. Mina swept her up in her arms.

“Darling, beautiful darling, we have him back!”

Galia blinked. “Mina?”

“Our boy, the only one who ever mattered worth a damn to me. He’s back, and gods below, but he’s a sight for sore eyes.”

“You saw him? You saw Strayke?” she said, her voice slightly shrill.

Mina nodded.

“That’s what I came to tell you. Apparently, he was bought by the martial arm of Tenebris’s government. He’s been fighting his way up the ranks for years. And now, here he is–” Mina held her at arm’s length. “Galia, what’s the matter?”

“You saw him? You spoke with him?”

Mina frowned at her in puzzlement. “He’s in the guards’ quarters with the rest of us. I’m sure he’ll get his own room in a while, but at the moment, he’s settling his men.”

“He…was happy to see you?”

“Picked me up, hugged the breath out of me and called me a dozen foul names,” Mina said.

Galia broke away from Mina, staring up at the ceiling. Over the last five years, she had learned to put away her tears. However, now she could feel them threatening to flow whether she wished them to or not.

“I chose you and not him,” she said, her voice small. “I chose you, and he will never forgive me for it. He couldn’t even say my name or speak it.”

Mina frowned. “No,” she said. “Look, I can bring him up here. You can speak with him–”

“
No
,” Galia nearly yelled. Shocked at her own tone, she lowered her voice. “No,” she said more quietly. “No. If he doesn’t want to see me, don’t bring him here. There is no need to inflict something painful on him.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I wronged him, and I have always known it. He has known it too. Sometimes, I think that the only person who doesn’t know it is you.”

Mina’s dark eyes went hard.

“Are you saying that I’m too dim to know what you did for me? I do know, Galia. I know that you were put into an impossible situation by a woman who terrifies the city. If she had asked me who I would have chosen, I would have said you.”

Galia shook her head, burying her face in her hands.

“You’re just trying to find a way to forgive me. But I can’t. I made the choice, but I hate it. I hate it every day.”

“Oh darling.”

For a moment, Mina’s arms around her felt as safe and sure as the mountains themselves. But Galia couldn’t take comfort she didn’t deserve. She shook Mina off.

“Galia!”

“Don’t…just don’t.”

“Galia–”

“Please leave,” Galia murmured, her voice breaking as she turned away.

Behind her, she could hear Mina sigh, long and deep.

“I love you, Galia,” Mina said quietly.

Galia didn’t dare turn around until she heard the window creak closed. She was alone, but the terrible, ravaging pain did not go.

As she wearily stripped, climbed into bed, and curled up, she settled into that pain. When she dreamed, it was of a woman in a different place and time. Her lovers were as different as night and day, wounded but whole. It was a good dream, but an incomplete one.