Chapter 12

They walked through the door of their hideout in the Last Retreat; or, better stated, they passed through the remains of the shattered door still hanging off its hinges. The attackers obviously had some difficulties gaining entry into the house; wooden splinters littered the ground and pools of blood splattered the floor in and around them. The scattering of gore indicated different sources but one of them had lost a lot of blood. Whoever it was had been fatally wounded and probably had died soon thereafter. They followed this trace into the bedchamber which Evanis and Rhaseris had shared the previous night. Kuwasi sat on the floor, upright, with his back against a wall and his scimitar lay next to him. Some deep wounds gaped in his bare chest and belly, and the right side of his face was split by a bloody gash. The last thing he had done in his life was to use some of the blood from the pool he sat in to write on the wall. It was only a single word and Kuwasi couldn’t finish it before he had died. The last two letters were missing, so it read ‘Bhans’.

Evanis sank down and, kneeling in his blood, she clutched Kuwasi’s mangled face to her chest and cried. Anseyla, Sybelien, and Ghostras left to search the other rooms but Jabbit stayed and watched.

“You did like him,” he remarked.

Evanis cried even harder in response. Jabbit continued to watch - but silently.

“He was the only real friend I ever had,” she said after a while, still sobbing but a little calmer. “And he died because of me.”

Jabbit frowned. “He didn’t die because of you,” he opposed. “He could have handed Rhaseris to the Bhansun. They even asked him to do just that but he tried to protect her from them.”

Evanis head spun around and she stared at Jabbit. “How do you know that?”

“He told me so,” Jabbit answered.

“He’s dead!” She yelled. “He didn’t tell you anything. I don’t want to listen to you spouting some shitty lies to make me feel better. Kuwasi died because of all the mistakes I made since I met you, you damn bastard. He died while I was busy letting you fuck me!”

“That’s wrong,” Jabbit calmly refuted. “You didn’t let me fuck you. You couldn’t move and didn’t have a choice. You even explicitly told me not to fuck you and still I fucked you.”

Kuwasi’s head dropped with a thud against the wall as Evanis jumped up. She stood, blood smeared all over her chest, and glared at Jabbit as she drew her dagger.

“And I will fuck you again, atop the corpse of your friend, if you don’t put away your dagger,” he told her, his voice steady and its inflection unchanged.

Ghostras arrived at the door and took his cudgel off his belt but Anseyla rushed passed him, pounced on Evanis, and embraced her tightly. Sybelien then stepped into the doorway in front of Ghostras, blocking his entry to the room.

“You lost your stilted voice pattern when you first provoked and then threatened Eva,” Sybelien commented.

Jabbit smiled at her. “I heard you this morning and thought you were right. I want to sound like everyone else when I’m talking.”

Evanis struggled in her sister’s arms but Anseyla desperately clung to her and she couldn’t free herself without hurting her younger sister.

“Stop, Eva,” Anseyla hissed in Evanis ear. “You know he can do it and I know he will do it. If you attack him he will bend you over Kuwasi’s dead body and fuck you! And there is nothing anyone of us can do to prevent it!”

Evanis sagged into her sister’s arms and heaving sobs shook her body as she cried on Anseyla’s shoulder. Jabbit walked around the entangled sisters and went down on his knee next to Kuwasi’s corpse. He placed his palm in the middle of the big man’s chest and closed his eyes. Sybelien and Anseyla watched him and their own eyes bugged out of their heads as they saw the dead man’s eyes fly open. Kuwasi’s wide open eyes stared at Jabbit and, flailing, he pushed the young man’s hand off his chest but then he convulsed and coughed up blood. Evanis spun around in her sister’s suddenly feeble arms and her eyes grew impossibly large as well.

“Kuwasi!” She screeched.

“I ... I... ,” another coughing fit interrupted Kuwasi’s stammering and more blood gushed out of his mouth.

“You were dead!” Evanis gasped.

“Dead, but not too far gone yet,” Jabbit clarified. “I told you he talked to me.”

Then he placed his hand on the previously dead man’s chest again. Kuwasi’s body froze and everyone stared with an open mouth as the edges of his gaping wounds knitted together. They watched until Jabbit finally removed his hand from Kuwasi’s chest; only thin, pale-red lines on his skin were left of the wounds. Kuwasi could move again and carefully touched the new scars on his body and face. He gulped and grimaced as he tasted the residue of blood in his mouth. Done with his inspection, he slowly raised his head and looked at Jabbit.

“Thank you for saving my life,” he croaked.

But Jabbit shook his head as he stood up. “I didn’t save your life. You died and I brought you back. I did so because you tried to protect Rhaseris,” he paused and shrugged. “And Evanis likes you.”

Anseyla nudged her sister in the back. Evanis turned her head and glared at her.

“What do you want from me?” She asked, hissing at her sister.

“Apologize to Jabbit!” Anseyla hissed in return.

“Never; I will still kill him,” Evanis growled. “One day very soon - just wait and see.”

“You stubborn mule,” she scolded and soundly smacked Evanis’ ass ... which apparently disturbed Anseyla more than her victim. “Fuck me runnin’! You’d need hammer and chisel to get a dent in those buns. I’m sooo jealous!” She gushed.

Sybelien shook her head over the antics of the Danjala sisters, whereas Jabbit walked to the bed at the far side of the room and sat down.

“Shouldn’t we leave here as fast as possible?” Sybelien asked, looking at Jabbit.

“No, we have to wait but she’s almost here,” he answered.

Ghostras had returned to the front door of the house and chose that moment to cry out in alarm. “Watch out; I can see soldiers coming!”

Sybelien, Evanis, and Anseyla rushed out of the room. Even Kuwasi got up and stumbled out, following the herd. Only Jabbit stayed behind.

The six dark cloaked men had also brought a hooded-cape for Rhaseris. They had gagged her and, hidden by the cape, her wrists were tied. Two of them had been wounded in the fight with Kuwasi. One of the two seriously so and he needed the support of two men to move on, which greatly slowed them down on their way through Katerra. Six men wearing dark cloaks escorting another but smaller and obviously encumbered, dark-cloaked figure would be enough to draw attention; the obviously injured man stumbling while supported by two of the larger cloaked figures was even worse.

Temporarily, Rhaseris had entertained the thought to flee or to draw attention to herself but had quickly given up on it. Her abductors would easily recapture her if she tried to flee and the people on the streets didn’t look like useful help to her. She also did not trust them any more than she trusted her abductors. No, she had decided to be patient and wait until someone came to rescue her. After all, she wasn’t in any danger; her god protected her.

She became a bit nervous when they were walking up the serpentine road to the Marble Cemetery. The majestic view of the high, white marble temples was a bit daunting but a silent prayer helped. It wasn’t really a prayer, though. It actually was a children’s song but it calmed her, greatly, as she was led through the corridors of the biggest of the temples.

Finally, they stood in front of richly decorated, high double-doors. They took the cape off her and relieved her of her gag and fetters. Then the doors were opened and Rhaseris was led into the study of the High Priest of the Alorian gods. He was seated at a large table and two Order Untars sat by his side. It looked like a tribunal to Rhaseris and she suspected she was about to be condemned.

Shoban’Rohass made the introductions himself.

“I am Montis Shoban’Rohass, the Alorian High Priest. Let me be the first to welcome you, Princess Rhaseris. My brother to the right is Ashun Kal’Thys, Untar of the Order of the Bhansun, the Order of those brave brethren who rescued you. To my left is my brother Phaross Than’Roboss, Untar of the Order of the Keepers of Truth. In the name of the Alorian priesthood, I pledge to you understanding and utmost compassion about everything you had to endure at the hand of the godless perpetrators who abducted you. Finally, you are here and safe in the custody of the Alorian priesthood. Nothing will stand in the way of your glorious future anymore - praise the gods.”

Rhaseris stood in front of the table and a smile appeared on her face as she listened to the priest. The more he talked the brighter her smile became.

“I thank you for your welcome and your concerns about my person,” she replied. “It’s true, I’m looking forward to a glorious future but it won’t be the future my father, you, or even I had envisioned when I left my home traveling to Katerra. I am not the same person anymore and this world isn’t the same anymore, either. I am still King Aerathon’s daughter, the Princess of Danuba, but now I’m also Rhaseris, First Priestess of the Nameless Son. I’m certain you’ll agree, the future you just welcomed me to isn’t mine anymore.”

The benevolent smiles on the faces of the three priests had vanished during her speech and were replaced by rather hostile expressions.

“You’re a very young woman, Rhaseris, and the daughter of a valued ally,” the High Priest replied. “You will need to spend some time in one of the chambers the Order of Purity and Devotion maintains. They are used for such occasions. A young spirit who lost its path must be allowed the time to go into herself and look at who she is before the gods.”

Rhaseris straightened her stance. “I serve the Nameless Son and no one else - and no one else but my god destines my future,” Rhaseris declared, her head held high.

The high Priest dismissed her with a gesture of his hand and the two order-warriors who had brought her led her away.

“Do you believe she will come to her senses?” Untar Phaross asked. “She appeared to be very devoted to her belief.”

“She is young but her tutors reported she isn’t stupid,” The High Priest countered. “I’m certain a few days spent in one of our brother’s dungeon cells will revive her faith in the Alorian gods.”

“My brethren reported they had to kill an Ibanee who was guarding the Princess,” Ashun Kal’Thys remarked. “It might be a meaningless coincidence but with the Ibanee’s Royals in Katerra I thought it should be mentioned.”

The High Priests expression considerably darkened when he heard the news.

“Two days ago Luwani var Dosha and her daughter visited the library. She pretended to do a research about the Faceless God and her daughter knew one of the prophecies regarding the Nameless Son,” the High Priest informed his brethren. “That reduces the likelihood of a random occurrence.”

Kal’Thys nodded. “The hideout at the Last Retreat is still under observation, as well as the Banyan Dream,” he stated. “I’ll immediately let you know when more Ibanees show up at either place.”

“Now that we have the Princess, our new priority is to identify and capture the one who claims to be the prophesied Nameless Son,” the High Priest stated.