The Invisible Chains - Part 1: Bonds of Hate by Andrew Ashling Page B
Authors: Andrew Ashling
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enough to sustain ourselves. Your lordship will agree with us that it wouldn't help if famine broke out in Mirkadesh.”
“So, if I understand you correctly,” Ehandar said exasperated, “you have no money, no weapons and no men. In case the Mukthars should attack, in spite of your optimistic predictions, what are you planning to do?”
“Flee to the nearby mountains if time permits it. If not, it is in the hands of the Gods,” the elder shrugged.
Ehandar felt suddenly depressed.
“In other words, you are not going to lift a finger to defend yourself,” he said dejected, “but you count on the Ximerionian army to safeguard you.”
“Forgive me, your lordship, I don't mean to be impudent, but isn't that why we pay taxes?” the elder asked.
Ehandar didn't know what to say anymore. It was like hitting a sponge. It didn't resist, gave in and regained it's original form as soon as the fist was lifted. He couldn't even be angry. Mirkadesh wasn't going to be a factor in the defense of the northern border.
Mirkadesh, it seemed, was content to be in the hands of the Gods.
Martillia was looking at the gigantic statue of Astonema, the Goddess of Wisdom, that stood in the Great Temple, when out of a small door the Second Daughter appeared.
“They say it was fashioned after an ancient original, you know,” she said to Martillia. “Astonema used to be the Goddess of War and Hunting, but after the Darkening she was supplanted by a male god. She didn't disappear however. She became the Goddess of Wisdom, yet retained all attributes of her former role. Wasn't that clever of her? See how she still wears a helmet and a breastplate and carries a shield and a spear?”
“What is that little winged creature she is carrying upon her extended hand,” Martillia asked.
“Ha, nobody is very certain, but some think that it is the Goddess of Victory. The lesson she gives us here is that ultimately victory is the gift of wisdom,” the Second daughter smiled.
“And the result of wearing sturdy protection and carrying sharp weapons,” Martillia thought dryly.
“The First Daughter permits you to use disciples of the seventh outer circle in the search for Emelasuntha,” the Second Daughter resumed. “We will send no additional reinforcements, but we will take it directly upon us to look after Anaxantis. That will free up about ten of the sisters of the Ormidonian Chapter.”
“Very well, convey our thanks to her Holiness. I will depart immediately for Ormidon.”
“May the Great Mother guard your path, daughter.”
Martillia descended the broad path that led from the Temple into the city of Torantall. Before undertaking the journey home, she had to take care of just one thing. She was horny. Better to get that irritating feeling out of the way. She was not planning on losing time to find a suitable willing partner. She would simply pay for one. Luckily she knew that the best place to find whores in almost every city was near major temples or houses of worship.
While she made her way through the narrow little streets she looked out for a male prostitute that wouldn't disgust her too much. When she found one to her liking, she stepped resolutely towards him.
“You, boy, is your dick for hire or is it only your hole you are selling? I'm willing to pay you a Ximerionian moltar.”
“But you're a woman... a girl...” the prostitute gasped.
“Can't get it up with women, can you? Not even for that much money?” she taunted him while showing him the silver coin.
“It is more money than I could hope to make in a day and night,” he debated with himself. “Besides, with her short hair, she almost looks like a boy. A pretty boy at that.”
“Of course, I can,” the prostitute said, “and I even have my own place nearby.”
“Lead the way then, boy. I am horny and I have not much time”
“She has a foul mouth. But as longs as she's paying...”
Once in the dusty little room that was dominated by a bed,
“So, if I understand you correctly,” Ehandar said exasperated, “you have no money, no weapons and no men. In case the Mukthars should attack, in spite of your optimistic predictions, what are you planning to do?”
“Flee to the nearby mountains if time permits it. If not, it is in the hands of the Gods,” the elder shrugged.
Ehandar felt suddenly depressed.
“In other words, you are not going to lift a finger to defend yourself,” he said dejected, “but you count on the Ximerionian army to safeguard you.”
“Forgive me, your lordship, I don't mean to be impudent, but isn't that why we pay taxes?” the elder asked.
Ehandar didn't know what to say anymore. It was like hitting a sponge. It didn't resist, gave in and regained it's original form as soon as the fist was lifted. He couldn't even be angry. Mirkadesh wasn't going to be a factor in the defense of the northern border.
Mirkadesh, it seemed, was content to be in the hands of the Gods.
Martillia was looking at the gigantic statue of Astonema, the Goddess of Wisdom, that stood in the Great Temple, when out of a small door the Second Daughter appeared.
“They say it was fashioned after an ancient original, you know,” she said to Martillia. “Astonema used to be the Goddess of War and Hunting, but after the Darkening she was supplanted by a male god. She didn't disappear however. She became the Goddess of Wisdom, yet retained all attributes of her former role. Wasn't that clever of her? See how she still wears a helmet and a breastplate and carries a shield and a spear?”
“What is that little winged creature she is carrying upon her extended hand,” Martillia asked.
“Ha, nobody is very certain, but some think that it is the Goddess of Victory. The lesson she gives us here is that ultimately victory is the gift of wisdom,” the Second daughter smiled.
“And the result of wearing sturdy protection and carrying sharp weapons,” Martillia thought dryly.
“The First Daughter permits you to use disciples of the seventh outer circle in the search for Emelasuntha,” the Second Daughter resumed. “We will send no additional reinforcements, but we will take it directly upon us to look after Anaxantis. That will free up about ten of the sisters of the Ormidonian Chapter.”
“Very well, convey our thanks to her Holiness. I will depart immediately for Ormidon.”
“May the Great Mother guard your path, daughter.”
Martillia descended the broad path that led from the Temple into the city of Torantall. Before undertaking the journey home, she had to take care of just one thing. She was horny. Better to get that irritating feeling out of the way. She was not planning on losing time to find a suitable willing partner. She would simply pay for one. Luckily she knew that the best place to find whores in almost every city was near major temples or houses of worship.
While she made her way through the narrow little streets she looked out for a male prostitute that wouldn't disgust her too much. When she found one to her liking, she stepped resolutely towards him.
“You, boy, is your dick for hire or is it only your hole you are selling? I'm willing to pay you a Ximerionian moltar.”
“But you're a woman... a girl...” the prostitute gasped.
“Can't get it up with women, can you? Not even for that much money?” she taunted him while showing him the silver coin.
“It is more money than I could hope to make in a day and night,” he debated with himself. “Besides, with her short hair, she almost looks like a boy. A pretty boy at that.”
“Of course, I can,” the prostitute said, “and I even have my own place nearby.”
“Lead the way then, boy. I am horny and I have not much time”
“She has a foul mouth. But as longs as she's paying...”
Once in the dusty little room that was dominated by a bed,
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