only?”
“The food’s good too but being cooped up in these chambers…”
“It’s the life of a Holy Man. You’ve been here almost all your life.”
Zarab curled his lip. “And been complaining about the chambers for just as long.”
“Complaints, complaints. No wonder you chose to be a Messenger instead of a Priest.”
“Messengers work just as hard, but I guess hard is the key word when it comes to being a Messenger.” Zareb winked. “You still plan on going through with it?”
“In two months, I become a Priest. I’m more than ready, Zareb. If I’d followed the way of the Goddess sooner, I wouldn’t have such guilt now.”
“You can still follow the Goddess even if you don’t have your—”
“I’m not changing my mind.”
“I still think you’re crazy. It’s an old, brutal custom. Turning men into—”
“Will you lower your voice? The Priests might hear you,” Mica snapped. “Each man has his own reason for becoming a Priest, just as Messengers have their reasons.”
“Guilt is not a good enough reason to sacrifice yourself.”
“Yes it is, and it’s not just guilt. You’ve never been anything but a Holy Man, so how can you question me?”
“I’m not questioning your need to serve, but the initiation to Priesthood has nothing to do with helping people and promoting peace. In fact, I’ve always thought the initiation was a contradiction to the very essence of the Goddess’ teachings.”
“If you were meant to be a Priest, you’d understand.” Mica undressed and pulled on the loincloth, glancing at his cock and balls and feeling a bit of longing. Most of his old strength had returned these past months, but he thought his urge for women had died—until meeting a certain tall, golden warrior. Mica shrugged on a robe and headed for the door. “I have guests waiting to visit the bathhouse.”
“Guests?”
“A Knight and a Dame. Met them in the desert.”
“Now they live in complete contradiction. Warriors and healers in one. I hear Dames are as fierce as men on the battlefield.”
“If Dame Sun is any indication of her Order’s skill then most men wouldn’t stand a chance against them.”
Zareb folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes at Mica. “That’s an odd look on your face when you mention her.”
“You’re seeing things that aren’t there, Zareb.”
“What does she look like?”
Mica knew Zareb was fishing for any sign of interest. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of providing another reason to point why he shouldn’t become a Priest.
Instead of admitting Sun was beautiful enough to be a goddess herself, he shrugged and said, “She’s tall.”
“And?”
“And I have to go. Good to see you again, Zareb. I think.”
“ Think is the key word.” Zareb called as Mica closed the door. “ Think about what you’re going to do before you make a mistake.”
The last thing Mica needed was more lecturing. It had taken him years of service and heavy thought to form his decision regarding Priesthood. Until yesterday, he’d been absolutely positive he was making the right choice—then he’d met Dame Sun.
Since then, his thoughts had been everything but religious. Now he was escorting her to the bathhouse for more reasons than simple hospitality. The idea of seeing her in swimming clothes seemed to inspire complete recovery from the ravaging effects of the past few years.
He walked down the staircase, passed through the great hall, and up another flight of steps to the guest chambers. Sun and Blaze awaited him in the hallway, both draped in robes supplied by palace servants. Sun’s was black, a startling contrast to the thick, blonde hair hanging loose down her back. Imagining her body beneath the robe, Mica felt his pulse leap.
“How was your meal?” he asked.
“Excellent,” Blaze replied.
Sun’s gaze held Mica’s. “Where’s this bathhouse? Outside the palace?”
“No. Under it.”
“A spring,” Blaze
“The food’s good too but being cooped up in these chambers…”
“It’s the life of a Holy Man. You’ve been here almost all your life.”
Zarab curled his lip. “And been complaining about the chambers for just as long.”
“Complaints, complaints. No wonder you chose to be a Messenger instead of a Priest.”
“Messengers work just as hard, but I guess hard is the key word when it comes to being a Messenger.” Zareb winked. “You still plan on going through with it?”
“In two months, I become a Priest. I’m more than ready, Zareb. If I’d followed the way of the Goddess sooner, I wouldn’t have such guilt now.”
“You can still follow the Goddess even if you don’t have your—”
“I’m not changing my mind.”
“I still think you’re crazy. It’s an old, brutal custom. Turning men into—”
“Will you lower your voice? The Priests might hear you,” Mica snapped. “Each man has his own reason for becoming a Priest, just as Messengers have their reasons.”
“Guilt is not a good enough reason to sacrifice yourself.”
“Yes it is, and it’s not just guilt. You’ve never been anything but a Holy Man, so how can you question me?”
“I’m not questioning your need to serve, but the initiation to Priesthood has nothing to do with helping people and promoting peace. In fact, I’ve always thought the initiation was a contradiction to the very essence of the Goddess’ teachings.”
“If you were meant to be a Priest, you’d understand.” Mica undressed and pulled on the loincloth, glancing at his cock and balls and feeling a bit of longing. Most of his old strength had returned these past months, but he thought his urge for women had died—until meeting a certain tall, golden warrior. Mica shrugged on a robe and headed for the door. “I have guests waiting to visit the bathhouse.”
“Guests?”
“A Knight and a Dame. Met them in the desert.”
“Now they live in complete contradiction. Warriors and healers in one. I hear Dames are as fierce as men on the battlefield.”
“If Dame Sun is any indication of her Order’s skill then most men wouldn’t stand a chance against them.”
Zareb folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes at Mica. “That’s an odd look on your face when you mention her.”
“You’re seeing things that aren’t there, Zareb.”
“What does she look like?”
Mica knew Zareb was fishing for any sign of interest. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of providing another reason to point why he shouldn’t become a Priest.
Instead of admitting Sun was beautiful enough to be a goddess herself, he shrugged and said, “She’s tall.”
“And?”
“And I have to go. Good to see you again, Zareb. I think.”
“ Think is the key word.” Zareb called as Mica closed the door. “ Think about what you’re going to do before you make a mistake.”
The last thing Mica needed was more lecturing. It had taken him years of service and heavy thought to form his decision regarding Priesthood. Until yesterday, he’d been absolutely positive he was making the right choice—then he’d met Dame Sun.
Since then, his thoughts had been everything but religious. Now he was escorting her to the bathhouse for more reasons than simple hospitality. The idea of seeing her in swimming clothes seemed to inspire complete recovery from the ravaging effects of the past few years.
He walked down the staircase, passed through the great hall, and up another flight of steps to the guest chambers. Sun and Blaze awaited him in the hallway, both draped in robes supplied by palace servants. Sun’s was black, a startling contrast to the thick, blonde hair hanging loose down her back. Imagining her body beneath the robe, Mica felt his pulse leap.
“How was your meal?” he asked.
“Excellent,” Blaze replied.
Sun’s gaze held Mica’s. “Where’s this bathhouse? Outside the palace?”
“No. Under it.”
“A spring,” Blaze
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