Hearts of Pride and Passion
By Amber
A few familiar disclaimers before we start:
Adult Content: Anyone reading this should be familiar with the first story, so it should come as no surprise that there’s going to be quite a bit of sexy stuff. The story deals with an intimate romance between two women, and their relationship is open and non-monogamous (polyamorous?). There’s some light kink in there as well. Anyone who isn’t interested in that type of content, or who shouldn’t be viewing it for any legal reasons, would be wise to move along. There’s also a bit of swearing and such, so don’t read if that sort of thing will offend you.
Violence: Not a whole lot, but yes, there’s some fighting and bloodshed.
Conversion: This story will also have mention of what could be described as ‘conversion therapy’, though I’ve tried not to focus on the more violent, traumatic elements of this reprehensible practice. Still, anyone who is sensitive to such subjects should read with caution.
This is also the third instalment of this series, so if you haven’t already read the previous two stories, none of it will make a lot of sense.
I hope you enjoy my story.:-)
Chapter 1
Heat.
A welcoming bubble of respite and comfort amidst the cold, trickling damp of winter’s embrace. Dae cupped her hands toward the radiant warmth, wriggling her numb fingers and releasing a guttural sigh as they began to thaw. As the chill ebbed it felt for a minute as though she had plunged her hands into a thicket of stinging nettles, but the prickling sensation grew less painful when she flexed her fingers. Shivering, she knelt on the bare stone hearth before the fire and waited for the pins-and-needles to dissipate before picking up one of the pieces of wood she’d deposited to the side and tossing it into the crackling flames. The fire greeted the damp wood with a lingering hiss, and Dae added a few more before stacking the remainder neatly in the iron grate situated beside the fireplace.
Getting to her feet, Dae lingered by the fire while she waited for Cass, her roommate, who was delivering her own armload of firewood to the kitchen. Widening her stance, she held the hem of her damp skirt out so it would dry quicker before the fire. The sound of laughter reached her from the kitchen; Cass, who possessed a wicked sense of humor and a rebellious streak which made her popular in the reformatory, was obviously taking a moment to chat with friends. Not in any great rush to return to the blustery cold outside, Dae didn’t move to hasten her.
But for herself the dining hall was empty, early morning being the busiest time of day in the reformatory. The breakfast clutter had been cleared away, leaving the haphazard arrangement of tables, chairs and benches empty of even their priestly overseers. Ever since Dae threatened retribution against Father Douglas—the priest who oversaw the reformatory—if he ever again used violence to discipline those in his care, he and his cohorts seemed to make fewer and fewer appearances throughout the day. Both private and group counseling sessions had been suspended, as had any spiritual teaching or study. This left everyone with a great deal more free time to enjoy, typically through the afternoons.
Although Douglas had lost any semblance of his former authority with the arrival of the Jaharri army, there was still work to be done keeping the reformatory running: the gardens were still tended, firewood was still gathered, and the kitchens never missed a meal. Everyone seemed happy enough to pitch in and do their fair share of the chores…but they no longer felt the need to fight against or conceal their desires. Most still maintained at least a semblance of discretion, seeking privacy to express those desires, but a few of the girls—Dae among them—weren’t so shy.
This morning, Dae and her roommates—Tricia, Cass, and Kaylee—found themselves assigned to wood-duty. It was Dae’s least preferred activity; the work was physically demanding, especially on a frosty morning such as this, and her privileged upbringing hadn’t prepared her for labors more typically relegated to the common folk. Though she tried her best never to let her noble station set her apart from her fellows, the ax felt awkward and unnatural in her hands. After witnessing how clumsy and dangerous her swings could be, Dae’s companions had quickly decided her efforts were better applied to a less-hazardous task.
They split the workload, with Tricia and Kaylee taking turns chopping wood, while Dae and Cass—who was tiny and could barely lift the ax, let alone swing it with any great force—hunted for thick fallen branches or downed saplings in the woods surrounding the monastery. Larger logs were tackled with a two-person saw before being split, the wood then stacked to dry under simple shelters made from branches and strips of bark. Even late in winter, most days were cold enough that the fire in the dining hall burned from dawn to late evening, along with the kitchen ovens, so Dae and Cass also had to carry a steady supply of older, drier fuel inside. This at least afforded them the opportunity to steal a few moments warming up a little and catching their breath.
Though she had only slept a few hours last night, Dae’s mood this morning was buoyant and she felt strangely invigorated. Part of this she attributed to Inaya’s visit yesterday; their ardent encounter in the storeroom had left her sated in a way she hadn’t felt since her father’s agents stole her away from the camp of the Herak nomads. It had also served to restore a sense of physical connection with Zafirah; knowing that Inaya would follow her instructions to pass along the passion they’d shared to the Scion, conjuring fantasies of what response she might receive from her mate, was as close to intimacy as they were likely to get. At least for the time being. But Dae had conceived a plan which might afford another opportunity.
Last night, she’d snuck out of her room and into the monastery while her companions slept, where she spent hours observing the guards her father had assigned to watch over the monastery grounds. Though the reformatory was locked down every night, Dae’s mind was not on escape, but rather the possibility of arranging a clandestine rendezvous with her wife. The guards seemed vigilant enough on their patrol, however she’d noticed a lengthy gap in their perimeter sweeps which indicated a shift-change around midnight. She would need to continue monitoring their movement to confirm this routine was typical, but if it proved to be so, there might be a chance she could sneak a face-to-face meeting with Zafirah. More than anything else, it was this possibility which brightened her mood.
Her meandering thoughts were recalled to the present by Cass’s voice. “Hey, Dae? Look what I found in the kitchen. Does this give you any ideas?”
Glancing over her shoulder at her friend, Dae had to turn away quickly, covering her eyes and breaking into hysterical laughter. “Oh Gods, no!”
Cass—a tiny young woman with short, unevenly-cropped dark hair, delicate features, and an impish grin—stood with one hand on her hip, striking a grandiose pose. With her other hand she held a particularly large, knobby carrot between her thighs, jutting from her crotch. Cass had sculpted the vegetable to graphically mimic a phallic shape…one which might actually have been a little intriguing if it weren’t for that absurd bright orange color and Cass’s overly gleeful expression. Peeking between her fingers, her sides shaking with sobs of mirth, Dae struggled to recover her composure.
“Oh, come now, ‘Consort,’ don’t play coy,” Cass said in a comically gruff, roguish voice, her toothy grin enormous. She strolled closer, flexing her hips in a mock rhythm. “Just a little nibble, what do you say? A little lick? I know how hungry you get.” She waved the mushroom-shaped tip in Dae’s face, who pushed her away, still overcome.
“What, you don’t like it?” Cass held up the carrot and pretended to study it. “You were telling us about the Scion’s toy cabinet the other day and it got me all inspired. I thought it showed a touch of creative flair, but fine.” Shrugging nonchalantly, she bit the mushroom head off the carrot and chewed it. “They also have a few yellow squash left over from the last harvest, but…ouch. Not for me.”
“You’ve got a dirty mind, Cass,” Dae scolded. Getting to her feet, her eyes still watering from mirth, she brushed a few pieces of bark from her skirt. “We’re supposed to be bringing in firewood, not crafting sex-toys out of vegetables. Come on, we’d better get back out there.” But as she turned away, Cass’s hand caught her by the arm and drew her back. The distance between them suddenly vanished, and Dae found herself caught by sparkling dark eyes looking up at her with inviting hunger.
“Hey now…what’s your hurry?” The teasing tone had vanished from Cass’s voice. “Maybe carrots aren’t your thing, but I bet we can find something sweeter for you to nibble on.”
Taken a little aback by the forwardness of Cass’s proposition, Dae found herself stammering, “Th-the others are probably already wondering what’s taking us so long.”
Cass ran her fingers in a light caress around Dae’s wrist, still gazing up at her with those inviting, mischievous eyes. “What if I’m asking?”
It took a second for Dae to recall the offer she’d made to Cass some nights ago, after she’d been woken by the sounds of her self-pleasuring: “All you need do is ask.” For a second, she reconsidered; despite how effectively she’d cultivated a sexually-charged atmosphere in the reformatory, Dae’s seductive efforts had not yet tempted any of her fellows into her bed. There’d been plenty of kisses, some light petting which made her ache for something heavier, and a whole lot of suggestive, lingering glances from the other women, but nothing more serious. Cass’s light touch was raising gooseflesh up her arms, and she had to admit that after Inaya’s visit, the invitation to share pleasure was more than a little tempting.
Seeming to sense her weakening resolve, Cass slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her closer. “Every night since you arrived, Dae, I’ve had to watch you put on your little show when you get naked before bed. I have to listen to all your stories from the harem…all that temptation and promise.” Standing on her toes, she leaned up and planted a soft, yearning kiss on Dae’s lips. Dae’s eyelids fluttered and closed as she accepted the kiss. A soft moan escaped her when she felt the other girl’s tongue flicker out to taste her. The contact lingered a delicious moment before Cass withdrew, nipping her lower lip. “I want you to feel what you’ve been doing to me…how you make me ache. No-one’s going to be upset if we slip away for a moment. We’ll be quick, I promise.”
“Quick, huh? You know, one of my friends in the harem once told me, ‘Haste only saps the sweetness of pleasurable indulgence.’”
“Really? Well my friend always told me, ‘Even five minutes of fucking is better than fifty minutes engaged in any other activity.’”
Dae laughed again, but gently disengaged herself from the smaller woman’s embrace. Cass had mentioned her ‘friend’ several times since they’d met, but this was the first time she’d hinted that their relationship was intimate. “And what would your friend have to say if she learned about…this?” she asked, gesturing between them.
“I don’t know…probably something along the lines of, ‘You lucky bitch. Where can we find this delightful creature so I can take a turn with her?’” Cass flashed a toothy grin at her doubtful expression and added, “What, you think you’re the only woman in the kingdom who enjoys a committed relationship without being monogamous? There are more of us than you might expect, Dae.”
“Really?”
“Sure. We just have to be careful not to go around blabbing about it to the wrong people…which, in the Heartland, is pretty much everybody.”
“Well, as much as I hope my father has a change of heart soon, I doubt he’s planning to release me back to Zafirah any time soon. We’ll have other opportunities, I’m sure. For now, I really think we’ve lingered in the warmth long enough.”
“Fine, fine…but we’re not finished with this.” Cass backed off another step, not looking much deterred. “Just remember, Dae, this isn’t the palace harem. Sometimes it’s better to seize the opportunity you get rather than hoping for a better time in the future…cos that better time might never present itself. Come on, then. Since you’re suddenly so invested in getting our chores done, let’s finish up outside.”
Feeling a little flushed, Dae followed her friend back into the chilly, damp grounds outside. The two headed over to the woodpile where Tricia was steadily chopping her way through the wood they’d gathered. Rejoining their companions, the conversation quickly returned to the subject they’d been discussing all morning: Inaya.
Lately, Dae had been recounting a few of her less erotic adventures from her time among the Herak tribe, wanting to illustrate more of the Jaharri culture beyond their sexual proclivities. After yesterday’s visit from Inaya, however, all anyone seemed interested in hearing were more details about the seraglio and the women who dwelt therein. The tales they’d already heard of Dae’s escapades in the desert harem were tantalizing, true, but it appeared that seeing the exotic pleasure-servant in all her glittering, sensual glory had brought those ethereal images to vivid life. Those who’d been introduced to Inaya and spent time listening to her recount the journey into the watered lands had been sharing their impressions over breakfast.
From snippets Dae overheard, the fact that she’d disappeared with Inaya and Kaylee for a lengthy period and returned with rumpled clothing and disheveled hair had not gone unnoticed.
“She’s very expressive with her body, isn’t she?” Tricia commented, pausing in her work to roll her shoulders. “I know you told us the Jaharri talk with their hands as much as their mouths, but she just had to touch everything, didn’t she? And she speaks the Common tongue far better than I’d expected. Father Douglas always made the Jaharri seem utterly ignorant; just jabbering, illiterate savages. But Inaya was so eloquent, so…so poetic.”
“She may not be able to read or write, but Inaya doesn’t lack for intelligence,” Dae agreed, finding a seat on the stump of an old tree which must have been cut down many years ago. “Although there’s no real hierarchy in the harem, all the other women seemed to hold Inaya in high regard. She reads people the same way we read words…their body language, their tone of voice, the way they hold their eyes. I think most Jaharri are like that—physically expressive, naturally intuitive—but Inaya definitely has a gift for reading hearts and minds.”
“Her outfit was even sexier than I’d pictured from all your stories,” Cass added eagerly. “All that sheer silk and beaded embroidery. And did you see her bracelets? Were those diamonds real? I never met any servant before who wore a fortune in precious stones and jewelry so casually.”
“Like I told you, being pleasure-servant to the Scion is an honored position in the palace, so the women dress accordingly. Besides, the Jaharri don’t really value gold and gems the way we do in the Heartland. There’s an entrance to the palace called the Glittering Gate where the walls are a mosaic of thousands of precious stones: jade and tiger-eye and tourmaline beyond counting. When I first arrived in the harem, after I’d recovered and gained my bearings a bit, the other women all welcomed me with gifts of jewelry and vials of fine perfume…as well as clothing that took me a long while to get accustomed to wearing. It was the same when we visited the Herak nomads, only instead of diamonds and emeralds the children had braided these colorful twine bracelets and necklaces; it seemed like a common custom. The Jaharri are a lot more generous than their reputation credits them…just not with those they consider outsiders.”
“Well, if she’s typical of the other women in the harem, I can’t say I blame you for being so eager to get back to the desert. She smelled like wild sage and sandalwood.”
“She smelled like sex after Dae was done with her,” Cass countered, drawing an amused snort from Tricia. “I wonder if she tastes as good as she smells.”
She glanced at Dae for confirmation, who offered nothing more than a mute, enigmatic smile. After a moment, Cass slyly turned her attention to where Kaylee was sitting nearby, curiously silent, gazing off into the distance with glassy eyes. “Perhaps Kaylee could tell us.”
“Huh?” At the mention of her name, Kaylee seemed to shake off her reverie and looked around. “Sorry, did you say something?”
Cass opened her mouth to repeat the teasing question, but Dae forestalled her. “It’s nothing, Kaylee. Forget it.”
“Here,” Tricia said, holding the ax out to Kaylee. “My arms are dead. Your turn.”
Cass raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t press further; while Kaylee still insisted she’d overcome her attraction to other women, her conviction was weak and utterly unconvincing. Typically, Dae quite enjoyed teasing her about her obvious attraction to Lyric—another resident of the reformatory who was high-born, arrogant, and dismissive of her fellow deviants. But Kaylee had been so uncharacteristically silent since yesterday morning, it was obvious she was still processing her encounter with the exotic and charming Inaya…and everything she’d heard from outside the storeroom where Dae had delivered her ‘message’ for Zafirah.
Kaylee’s silence seemed portentous to Dae, as though something was building within her…or like she was gathering the courage to finally ask for answers to questions she’d been taught never to voice.
While Kaylee attacked the pile of rough logs with an almost frenzied energy, Dae saw Tricia trying without much success to massage the ache from her own shoulders. Scooting back on her tree stump seat, Dae patted the space she’d made between her thighs. “Here…let me help with that.”
Her offer was met with a look from Tricia that was half-bemused, half-skeptical, and Dae laughed. “I’ll behave myself, I promise. Do you really want to wake up tomorrow with a stiff back when you have me here to help? I’ve been told I give a pretty good massage.”
“I’ll bet.” Tricia stretched her arms and, after another moment of consideration, shrugged and took the offered seat. Pulling her tumble of curly auburn hair over her shoulders, she presented her back to Dae. Dae set her hands lightly on her friend’s shoulders and began probing with her fingers, feeling for the tightest knots in her muscles and massaging them until the loosened. As promised, she kept her attentions focused on the task at hand rather than exploring; unlike the majority of those in the reformatory, Tricia had been sentenced here over salacious tales she’d told which had offended a local magistrate, rather than any attraction she harbored toward other women.
While she worked her thumbs from Tricia’s shoulder blades down her spine, Dae spied another group of four young women returning from the back field which supplied most of the produce for the reformatory. All of them looked muddied and worn from labor; spring would arrive in but a few short weeks, so there was much work to be done tilling the soil and preparing seedlings for a quick planting. As they approached the building, two of the women slowed their strides and lagged behind their companions, clearly deep in serious conversation. Dae recognized them as Emily and Jocelyn, boon companions who were rarely ever apart. Lately the two women had been gazing at one another over every meal with eyes that might as well have been singing love sonnets, prompting many to speculate on how long it would be before their friendship evolved into something more intimate.
Emily, by far the more confidant of the two, had taken her friend by the hand and held her back as their companions retreated inside. Shy and reserved Jocelyn seemed to be having trouble meeting Emily’s eyes, but she didn’t withdraw when one of her hands trailed lightly down her arm to her wrist, where their fingers quickly entwined. When Emily moved closer to whisper something into her ear, Joss found herself caught between her friend and the wall of the reformatory. Emily lifted her free hand to Jocelyn’s chin, two fingers stroking her as they locked eyes. Even from a distance, the heat and chemistry between the two women was stirring. Dae had witnessed this dance enough times in the harem to know what was coming. When Emily’s lips finally descended, Jocelyn appeared to melt weakly against the building behind her as she dreamily accepted the kiss.
“About damn time,” Tricia said with a smirk. “I was starting to think those two would burst into flames before either one made a move.
“I think they make a cute couple,” said Dae.
The kiss had deepened quickly, passion rising as their hands clutched feverishly at one another. Cass chuckled when Joss, still pinned against the building, wrapped her left leg around Emily’s body and started flexing her hips.
“Yep, looks pretty cute to me. Think she’s planning on taking her right there?”
Even as she said it, however, Dae noticed a patrol of her father’s soldiers moving around the perimeter of the monastery. Richard had assigned his men here chiefly to discourage Zafirah or any of her troops from getting anywhere near Dae, but if they spotted the two women in their current state, they wouldn’t hesitate to reprimand them. She pointed the armored men out to Cass, who frowned and put her fingers to her lips. A short, sharp whistle pierced the crisp morning air, enough to get the attention of the distracted couple. When they glanced around, Cass and Dae both pointed to the approaching group and gave a warning gesture. A little red-faced, the two women reluctantly withdrew from their embrace and adopted a more casual demeanor before hastening after their companions.
Just before they reached the door, however, a sudden, booming CR-AAACK! split the peaceful morning air, startling everyone. Dae was on her feet before she realized it, turning to the east where the sound originated, seized by a moment of terror that made her stomach drop. Looking back to her companions she saw their faces pale, eyes wide, reflecting at least a fraction of her own fear. The ax had fallen from Kaylee’s hands. There was no mistaking the sound as anything other than gunfire.
An image of her father’s troops charging into the unsuspecting ranks of Jaharri warriors leapt from the dark places of her imagination, riflemen cutting down the lightly armored spahi and scouts as they struggled to form a defensive line. A second later the sound repeated, and then everybody was hurrying to the east, where the monastery overlooked the valley of her family’s estate. Dae found herself moving with them, her legs feeling rubbery and unstable…but before the waves of panic could overwhelm her, she noticed the four guards continuing on their rounds as though nothing were amiss. One of the men chanced to meet her gaze, then looked quickly away. He seemed almost embarrassed.
She understood immediately what was happening. Resigned, she joined the rush of people exiting the reformatory.
The hilltop monastery afforded a spectacular view of the valley below—the three-story stone-and-timber structure of the main house, the soldiers’ barracks, stables, and the expansive formal gardens that surrounded them. Zafirah’s army was encamped in the fields to the north-east of the main estate grounds, a vast circle of tents defended by wooden shield-walls which provided cover from ranged attacks, and trenches to deter a cavalry charge. The sound of gunfire had certainly stirred up a flurry of activity in the camp; she could see tiny figures hurrying about trying to identify what the threat was and where it originated. But Dae recognized at a glance that no attack was coming. All the same, her former good mood was soured.
Though there was a target range next to the barracks, she spotted the men out in the field not far from where the Jaharri horses had been left to graze—a squadron of her father’s troops, glittering in their formal plate mail and crimson-and-ivory surcoats, were arranged in a column of three rows of thirty men, all facing a line of straw targets a hundred or so paces away. As a girl, Dae’s father had sometimes taken her to watch his soldiers train with their firearms. Despite the noise and the smoke and the stink of sulphur, their precise, choreographed movements had always been strangely beautiful to her. As she watched, the rear row of men advanced with well-rehearsed precision, knelt down and shouldered their rifles, while those they replaced moved to the center and began reloading their spent weapons. A thin grey smoke blossomed along the column’s front line; half a second later, the explosive boom reached them.
“It’s nothing,” Cass said, relieved, resting a hand comfortingly on her shoulder and giving her a squeeze. “Looks like they’re just running a drill.”
“That’s not a drill,” she said quietly. “It’s a display of power and resolve…with just a hint of a threat.”
“They run drills like this every few months, Dae. Maybe you’re reading too much into it.”
“That’s right,” Tricia agreed. “The spring hunt isn’t far off; they’re probably just getting prepared for an early season.”
Dae gave her friends a strained smile and shook her head. They didn’t see it. “No. My father gave ground yesterday: he allowed Zafirah to send Inaya to visit me…a minor concession, true, but I don’t doubt he resents it. There’s no help coming from the King or the Royal Guard, no way to remove Zafirah and her forces without sacrificing hundreds of lives, and no legal maneuvering that would allow him to deny her claim. He’s backed into a corner, and this is his way of letting the Scion know she hasn’t won yet.”
A few stragglers were emerging from the reformatory to see what all the commotion was about, joining those standing before the enormous stained-glass window of the monastery looking out at the tiny figures hurrying about below the hill. The crack of gunfire continued to echo through the valley, but Dae could already see the movements of the Jaharri grow calmer as they realized what was happening. Zafirah would be among them…likely observing her father’s troops with the same sense of weary irritation that she was feeling.
It’s a delay, that’s all, she told herself firmly. Just another petty, pointless delay. He can’t keep us apart forever.
Cass tugged at the sleeve of Dae’s blouse and said, “Come on, Dae…let’s go. There’s nothing you can do from up here, and you’ll only drive yourself crazy worrying about things you can’t change. There’s still more wood to gather, plus I found a nice patch of mushrooms in a clearing back there. We should grab them before I forget where they are. Mushroom and barley soup with fresh-baked bread for lunch sounds pretty good to me. We can check the snares, too. Kaylee’s been so distracted lately, maybe she hasn’t had time to cut them.”
Dae smiled, grateful to Cass for offering a distraction. Though they received donations of grain and meat from the local village every other week, the women in the reformatory supplemented their supply with forage and game from the surrounding woodlands. Soft-hearted Kaylee had a particular love for wild rabbits and would sometimes cut the snares laid by her fellows. As they made their way toward the forest line, their skirts dragging in the lush, dew-drenched grasses, Dae noticed her companion still shooting her sidelong glances.
“So…I guess you’re stuck with us a while longer,” Cass commented brightly. “Your father sounds like a stubborn ass. I’m sorry.”
Dae met her friend’s cheery gaze and raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Really? You should tell that to your face.”
“Hey, I can be sorry for you and Zafirah and still be glad for the rest of us, can’t I?” The petite woman nudged her with her elbow, flashing another impish grin. “It may have escaped your notice, Dae, but this place was pretty grim before you showed up. Not much laughing, not much banter…and absolutely no secret make-out sessions in the back rooms.” Her grin faded after a moment, replaced by something more resentful. “Old crab-apple face and his priests used to ‘incentivize’ us to report anyone who stepped out of line. There were plenty of bruises and tears. One time he wooped poor Kaylee so bad she couldn’t sit without wincing for near a week…all because she couldn’t stop asking questions they didn’t have answers too. You changed all that…but I can’t tell you how many times I thought about making a run for it during the first months I was here.”
Like Kaylee, Cass typically avoided talking much about the events which led to her being sent here. “Why didn’t you?”
“I promised my friend I wouldn’t do anything that might delay our reunion.”
“Mmm…sounds like quite a special ‘friend.’”
Seeing the hopeful expression of curiosity on Dae’s face, Cass laughed and rolled her eyes. “Fine, if you really want hear it, I’ll tell you. Her name’s Micaela. She grew up in Sailsport with her dad; he’s a little rough and salty, but a nice man all the same. A lot of other folk who are…you know, like us…end up taking jobs in shipping or working on the docks. The wages aren’t great, but there’s a lot less prejudice out at sea. Micaela’s father offered to help us find work on one of the trading ships, so that’s where we were headed when we stopped at an inn not too far from here for the night. We were having a few drinks to toast our future at sea, celebrating…and one of the barmaids was getting a little flirty with us. We got careless.” Cass shrugged ruefully and kicked a pinecone. “When they came for us, I made a pretty loud display of giving myself up…caused a public scene, so Micaela could slip out the back. Figured there was no sense in both of us getting caught.”
Listening to her story, Dae felt the same sense of fury that had gripped her after Father Douglas struck her in the face flare again. “So, she got away?”
“Mmhmm. Lucky thing, too. They would have separated us for sure. She’s a few years older than I am, and the magistrates tend to only show leniency to younger people for crimes like ours. Better chance we’ll be ‘rehabilitated’. I knew they wouldn’t look twice at me, but if they’d caught her, they’d have sent her off to some Gods-forsaken hole in a prison somewhere where I’d never find her.” Although Cass was three years older than Dae, she was not only petite but also blessed with the type of face that would retain a youthful appearance for many years. “But we’ll be together again, I know it. We made sure we had a plan in case the worst ever happened. I know where she’ll leave word for me. Now it’s just a matter of convincing that musty old Douglas that I’ve been ‘cured’ and he’ll send me on my way.”
“I guess my being here hasn’t really helped with that, has it?”
A shrug. “Maybe not. Then again, watching you reduce that pompous old relic to a mass of quivering jelly…I wouldn’t give that up for anything.”
Dae understood that it wasn’t fear of her that kept Father Douglas cowed, it was his abject terror of the Jaharri—the bloodthirsty, hedonistic worshippers of Inshal he’d preached against his entire life. Dae felt no qualms about using the priests’ ignorance against him, and a promise that one word from her lips would bring the Jaharri down upon his precious monastery if he continued using threats and force against herself or the other women had been enough to send him and his minions scurrying for the shadows. But she worried what the old man might do once the threat of destruction was gone.
Listening to Cass’s story, Dae resolved right then and there that before she left with the Jaharri, she would use whatever influence she had to protect her fellows from suffering any retaliation at the hands of Father Douglas and his underlings.
* * *