Chapter 1

A lone rider crested the low hill and looked down. A small river ran through the wide shallow valley. A smaller stream cascaded from the hills opposite and running quickly across the grasslands, joined the river. At the juncture, a city had grown. The rider looked at his destination, Kushakli a great city of the Southern People.

He spurred his horse into a trot and rode for the city gate. As he neared, workers in the barley fields stopped to watch. He was riding a grey horse. It was a great beast of the Horse People but clearly he wasn't of that tribe. The Horse People had dark straight hair and green eyes. The stranger had blazing red hair and piercing blue eyes. He was a strange wanderer, and therefore, not to be trusted. The folk watched him as he rode toward their city.

At the gate, the warden stopped him, "Stranger, what do you?"

"I am Ariston. I am a shaman of my people and have come in search of great power to cure. A sickness has come to my people. We have sacrificed to the gods but still our children waste away. I have come searching for healing for my people," Ariston finished. He shifted on the great beast's back, sore from many days of riding.

The warden eyed the horse. "That is a great horse. I have not seen any except the Horse People ride such a beast."

"It was given me by a Shaman of the Horse People. He had no skill to cure the wasting sickness of our children. He cast a spell. In the smoke he read a message from the gods; he should give me this beast and that I should ride south to find the cure. I come at the behest of the gods."

Ariston looked down at the horse, smiling inwardly as he remembered how he actually obtained the beast. He had been gambling at an inn of the Horse People. His own dice had been weighted to roll as he knew they would. Ariston toyed with one of the men letting him win a little to build his confidence. The greedy horse man had gambled his daughter believing that he would win all. But he lost all.

The poor wretch had begged Ariston not to despoil his daughter even though it was now his right. She was betrothed to a clan chief's son, a great match for his family, which would bring him prestige and wealth in cattle. Ariston had accepted his few coppers, a small bracelet of no great value, and a horse in exchange for his promise to leave the daughter untouched. Little did the poor man know that Ariston had no desire for his daughter. She had no meat on her bones. What man wants a skinny woman? All men desired a woman with substance; a woman who could work and bear children. There is beauty in utility.

The gate warden looked him over once again. Finally, he nodded. "I hope you find the power to cure your children, but I think you'll not find it here. Our own children sometimes acquire the wasting sickness. I know of no cure. Perhaps you should go further south," he suggested pointedly.

Ariston nodded, "I fear you may be right. I am tired from long riding which is unaccustomed to me. Perhaps there is an Inn where I might rest?"

The warden paused then finally said, "Follow the main way. At the Temple square take the second street to the left. You will see the Inn of the Boar. That is where the caravaners lodge when they are in the city. They will have lodging for you and fodder for your mount."

"May all Gods protect you," Ariston said as he spurred his horse through the gate. Eyes followed him as he cantered past them. At the Temple Square he paused, glanced at the Temples, then spurred his horse down the street of the Inn.

Ariston found the Inn, a simple building with a stable next door. He left his horse with the stable boy and entered the Inn. There were only a few souls in the place. Behind the bar stood a bald, squat, and very ugly man. He looked Ariston up and down and reached his conclusion. "You need a room, stranger?"

"Yes," Ariston answered.

"Good. Are the rest of your companions joining you?" he asked.

"I am alone."

"Too bad. I have more than enough rooms at the moment. I can give you a beautiful room in the back for three coppers a day," he said lavishly.

Ariston smiled crookedly at the Inn keeper. "I'll take an average room and offer one copper a day."

"Why Gentle Sir. That is robbery," he blustered.

Ariston put his hand on the hilt of the sword hanging at his belt and responded, "Good Sir, I agree. One copper a day for a flee-infested bed is robbery. I'll expect that to include dinner as well. But I am tired and loath to haggle. One copper."

The Innkeeper's eyes glanced at his hand resting on the pommel and swallowed. "Ah yes. It is true that I am not very busy at the moment. Of course I would be glad to have you as a guest at my hearth. Yes, it is done. One copper a day." One of the locals laughed and then chopped off the laugh as the Innkeeper glared his way. "And may one inquire how long you will be with us?"

"Only a day or so. I have come to consult with the wise men of Kushakli about a cure for the children of my people. If I can find no cure I must ride on."

"A noble cause," the Innkeeper said with a slight smile. Ariston glared at him. He returned the glare with a knowing smile. "Yes, a noble cause. We must be sure you get what you have come for, heh?"

"The room?" Ariston reminded.

The Innkeeper came from behind the bar and led Ariston down a dark narrow hall. At the rear of the Inn he opened a small door. Ariston stepped through. The room was barren except for a pallet covered with soft straw under a woolen blanket. After so many nights on the hard cold ground it looked like paradise itself to Ariston. There was also a small table with two rickety chairs.

"Fit for a king," said Ariston.

"Maybe I should ask three coppers then," said the Innkeeper.

"Maybe I should sleep in the stable. It would probably be better," said Ariston.

The Innkeeper laughed, "Two coppers for that. But we have made a bargain and I am loath to break my bond." He held out his hand and Ariston deposited a copper coin.

"Dinner?" Ariston asked.

"At mid day," said the Innkeeper. "Which was hours ago. But I have a bit left if you don't mind."

"I could eat it raw." Ariston threw down his bedroll and followed the Innkeeper back to the main room. The ugly troll of a man put parts of a greasy overcooked bird in front of Ariston along with stewed roots and a bowl of bitter barley beer to wash it down. It tasted delicious.

After his repast, Ariston walked to the Temple Square. He came to the Temple of Ashtar, Goddess of Physical Love, Patroness of Prostitutes, Queen of Pleasure and the most beloved of the gods by disciples of the pleasures of the flesh. The temple was not very impressive. Shaped as a ziggurat, it rose only a few stories. Wooden, instead of strong brick, it was already decaying.

As Ariston stepped over the threshold a priestess appeared. "You are a stranger?"

Ariston skidded to a halt. "Yes. I have come south seeking wisdom. I wish to invoke the help of the Goddess."

The priestess paused, then said, "Indeed, a noble wish. But the Goddess requires a sacrifice. Have you brought such?"

"No, Reverend One. What would the Goddess desire?" Ariston asked.

The priestess scolded, "Of course the gift to the Goddess should be worthy of her Majesty. Many bring an ox or a goat. Even the poor bring a cock or hen to invoke her good will."

Ariston eyed the priestess through lidded eyes as he bowed. The priestess had a gaunt and hungry look. Ariston guessed that a bird would be as welcome as anything and much less expensive. "Where is the market, Oh Reverend One?"

The priestess, the hunger now open on her face, directed Ariston to the market. He was back in a nonce carrying a squawking pullet. This time the priestess invited Ariston into the temple. Ariston handed over the bird and followed the priestess toward the center of the temple.

Ariston's eyes were relentless in appraising the temple furnishings. A few bare iron sconces held the flickering lamps. The statue of the Goddess was terra cotta, painted with garish colors. Murals of the Sacred Prostitute, painted straight onto the wood walls, were the only decoration in the temple. There was no silver or gold to be seen.

The priestess intoned the words of blessing, imploring the Goddess to favor the supplicant, Ariston. The priestess held up the bird for the blessing of the Goddess. With a quick twist she separated the head and holding the bird tightly poured the blood into the offering bowl at the foot of the Goddess. Ariston was sure the bird would be roasting on a spit shortly.

Ariston cast one more glance around the temple looking for any suitable items that might wish to free themselves and accompany him when he left the city. His eyes settled on the Goddess. Her face seemed to be glowing in the dim air. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. He had the distinct impression that the eyes of the statue were alive and looking at him. The very room seemed to buzz. He felt an impulse to run but his boots seemed stuck to the floor.

The priestess turned, breaking the spell, and Ariston let out a sigh as he began breathing again. The priestess, happy now, intoned the ceremonial words, "Ariston. Your gift to the Goddess has been blessed and accepted. The Goddess will bless you with love."

Ariston's knees were weak and fearing they might give out under him he bleated out, "Thank you, yes. May the Goddess protect you." He turned and wobbled from the temple. In the late afternoon sun, he felt reinvigorated. He shook his head to clear it. "It was just the dark," he mumbled to himself not really sure if he believed it himself. 'The Goddess would have no reason to take an interest in me, ' he thought.

His gaze next turned to the Temple of Djues, King of the Gods. His strength returned quickly in the clear sunny air of the plaza. The main temple was similar in form to Ashtar's, but larger. Its simple wooden structure was unadorned and slightly shabby. The door to the temple was half a man's height again larger than the door to Ashtar's temple and five men wide. He was able to stand outside and see the interior without having to pass the priest-attendant guarding the door. The interior looked as poor. The priest looked as hungry. Where is the wealth that should be in the great city? Do not the people revere their gods?

Perplexed, Ariston wandered back to the inn. Taking a corner table in the inn he ordered a beer from the bar maid. When she brought the tankard she asked, "Will there be anything else?" and leant forward so that he could see proof of her abundant charms.

Ariston nearly spit out his beer. He paused holding her eye with his and responded, "Nothing at the moment. But perhaps later."

"Do but mention my name, Sussi, and I will come to thy beck and call," she said.

"Sussi," he said. "Yes, I think there might be something later."

She turned and swayed sultrily back to the bar. The innkeeper glared her way. When she got to the bar he leaned over and started to whisper furiously. Occasionally his voice rose enough for Ariston to hear. "My daughter ... tramp ... spectacle ... your Mother..." Through it all the girl looked bored as if hearing the same words for the hundredth time.

Slowly, the inn filled with locals wishing to stuff their bellies with beer before stumbling home for the night. Ariston listened, unobtrusively, to the conversations around him. Nursing his second tankard, Ariston leaned over his table and said to a tipsy guest at another table. "Ho, good gentle. I am a stranger to Kushakli."

Interrupting, the man bellowed, "Ah yes. I can shee you are. What do you in Kuss ... Kushakli?" He upended his tankard and poured as much beer into his beard as he did into his mouth.

His tablemates laughed at the beer pouring down his chest and one slapped the table, "Don't waste it you fool. You pour enough beer down your jerkin to get another man drunk."

Slamming the tankard on the table, "I can out drink any man in Kusssh ... Kissha ... Damn, in this city."

Ariston smiling only slightly, said, "I can see you are a man who can hold his drink. Today, I paid homage to the Goddess, Ashtar. I was surprised at the state of the temple. Do your people not respect the Goddess?"

"Of course. I myself have coupled with many women in worshipping the Goddess. Why I could do ten women in one night if I had a mind to." His tablemates rolled their eyes as smiles played across their faces.

Ariston said, "I can see I have met a man of worth. So tell me gentle sir, why are the temples is such state? I was almost offended for the Goddess at the lack of finery to celebrate her gifts to man. Is there no reverence to show how much we men receive from the Divine Prostitute?"

The conversation quickly died at the surrounding tables. One of the men, not yet carried away by the ale leant forward and said under his breath, "Hush. Such talk bodes poorly for men. Stranger, here in Kushakli are many devout men who worship the gods. But here in Kushakli, the nobles keep the wealth. Donations to the temples seem to wind up in their hands. And anyone who expresses their zeal to defend the gods too loudly winds up in the copper mines, endlessly digging, until they are too weak. Then they are tossed on the dross and buried with it. Be careful, good sir." The man downed his tankard, stood, and made his way quickly from the inn.

Ariston leaned back in his chair and was about to speak when a cold breath seemed to caress his neck. The hairs on his neck stood on end. His back was to the wall and he knew nothing was behind him, unless it was a trap. He turned, but it was a plain mud brick wall. Settling in his chair, he again decided to speak when another draft hit him. Now the hair all over his body seemed to stand on end. He looked up, and in the smoking rafters, he saw two blazing blue eyes staring at him, smiling at him, almost seeming to laugh at him.

He was gaping at the ceiling when Sussi bumped the table. It broke the spell and Ariston looked at the serving wench. "Will there be anything else?" she asked in a low sexy voice.

Shaking his head to clear it, Ariston glanced up again. He saw a cat appear from the smoky corner of the room and walk along one of the rafters. The cat stared down at him, its green eyes flashing in the dark. Green? He would have sworn the eyes he saw were blue. It must have been the cat's eyes he saw in the gloom. His superstitious mind in turmoil, he pondered; the business of the gods is a dangerous affair for a man to interpose himself into.

Sussi again bumped the table. "Pardon," he said. "I was thinking about the conversation."

"Think not on the gods. They have their own destinies. Think you on the gifts of the gods to us. Especially the Goddess. She showers us with fine gifts, does she not?" Sussi leant forward to show Ariston her fine gifts.

"Yes, my girl. You are right. This is the greatest gift. Perhaps I will be thirsty in a nonce, but I shall have retired. How would I slake my thirst when I am alone in my cell?" Ariston smiled at Sussi.

She returned the smile, "Good stranger. A man should not go thirsty in a land of plenty. Be assured of that. One gift should be returned with a gift of equal value. This is the way of the Goddess."

Ariston reached into his pouch and flipped a small gold coin on the table. "For tonight ... I hope this will cover my bill."

She scooped up the coin and it disappeared. "Oh yes. I am sure the Goddess shall grant your wishes this eve."

Ariston stood and wandered back to his room. He sat in the semi-dark waiting, faint shadows cast by the moonlight pouring in through the window. The room was silvery in the moonlight. A few minutes later the door opened quietly and a shadow slipped in. "Stranger?"

"Is it the Goddess?" he asked.

A tinkling laugh was followed by, "Yes, the Goddess has come."

Ariston stood, the shaft of light from the window highlighted him against the dark and the girl swept into his arms. He wrapped her in his arms and they kissed, softly at first, then more passionately.

Her fingers found the leather laces of his jerkin and began undoing them. He helped her, then quickly peeled out of his breeches and finished by throwing his boots into a corner. While he was undressing Sussi had skinned her dress off and stepped from her sandals. They melted back into each other's arms but now hot skin was pressed to hot skin. His manhood, rampant, pressed against her belly. She ground her pudenda against it.

Sussi pulled him with her as she lay on his pallet. He covered her and her legs wrapped round, pulling him to her. He kissed her passionately. Having traveled long, his desire was great. His manhood was pressed to her mount, his hips rolling back and forth rubbing over her damp portal. Their breathing turned ragged. He pulled his hips back, his manhood sliding down to find her opening. Nestling into her, she moaned from the sensation. A push and they were joined in the sacred dance of Ashtar.

Ariston was soon scaling the heights of passion and Sussi was moaning from his vigorous thrusts. The pallet creaked under them as their motions became more heated. He could feel her molten walls grasping at his manhood, milking it like a calf suckles at its mother's teat. Her fingers dug into his back urging him on, her hips surged up to meet his hips. He felt the onset of climax and, as he had been taught, released his mind to experience this moment of oneness with the gods. As he emptied himself into Sussi the beatific peace of the Goddess filled his soul. A few last shudders and he collapsed. He felt Sussi's womanliness continue to pulse around him as he slowly shrank.