The Warlord and The Priestess

[4Chiri]

Ithet was a bit slow in waking since she'd tossed and turned during the night. After helping the priestess with her garments she began to layer the blankets in the carriage where the priestess would sit.


Moganthe stamped out the fire as he put away all their items. However standing rigid whenever the Priestess was near.


"..." he paused when she thanked him. Feeling a small spark of guilt for not using the blanket, but it was better that way.


"Thank you, Milady." he said, "You needn't think of me. My duty is vigilance." he spoke and continued cleaning up.


Once the two women were inside and the tent broken down, he saddled and readied the horse.


Then after a moment, he knocked on the carriage door.


Ithet immediately opened it to be offered a thermistor of warm tea, and a large wooden bowl of bread and some cooked rabbit.


"I was able to trap in the night, to not waste time we will eat as we travel," he said and shut the door again.


And once more the carriage rolled along.


Ithet stared down at the food with a grin, but felt a bit sad inside.


"...I guess...he didnt sleep after all...he even went hunting..are you hungry milady?" she asked.

 

[Morigan]

Melia was surprised to hear Moganthe thank her but his next words were to once again remind her of the barrier that each of their stations created around them, isolating them both, though in separate ways.


They were all packed up and ready to be on the move again when he offered them food and tea for the journey. As Ithet commented on his hunting, Melia responded thoughtfully: "I suppose he did not sleep. Surely he can not go another full day without rest..." she glanced concernedly to where he was riding, though with all the curtains drawn of course she saw nothing.


"I am hungry actually, and if we make sure these curtains stay closed, I shall remove this veil so I may eat more easily. The imperial breakfast yesterday was...interesting...maneuvering the food without showing my face or making a mess." Melia removed her cowl, placing it next to her on the seat and leaving her blonde head bare for the moment. She took some of the tea and food and ate, thankful for something warm for sustenance.

 

[4Chiri]

Ithet giggled.


"It must be hard...all these rules and expectations...does it ever overwhelm you?" she asked, eating happily. "I was so nervous sitting at the Emperor's table...I was afraid I would do something wrong.."


her mumbles of concern left her in a state of anxiety.


There was so much pressure placed onto the Priestess...and just being her servant was nearly unbearable. Between them both the food dissipated quickly, as did the warm tea; mint and basil. Probably herbs gathered from the local area.


"it's no wonder His Majesty chose Moganthe to be your protector...he can do anything!"


she smiled and just as she did there was a sudden yell.


The horse whinnied and bucked, causing the entire carriage to rattle.


There were more yells, and the sound of a sudden scuffle took place.


Ithet almost immediately panicked when she peeked out the window.


A group of bandits sprung an ambush. Had the carriage not been armored and arrow would've pierced it's side.

 

[Morigan]

As the carriage pitched to the side suddenly, Melia lost her balance and fell nearly to the opposite side of the carriage, almost landing on Ithet. "Come away from the window Ithet!" she whispered, fighting to keep worry from her voice. She reached for her veil quickly, hoping no one had seen her face through the parted curtains. She covered her face once more and reached for Ithet's arm, trying to move her back towards the wall of the carriage.


"We may need to defend ourselves...have we anything to be fashioned as a weapon?" Melia cast about, looking through their belongings. The best she could find was a heavy book and her knitting needles. She handed one needle to Ithet and retained the other in her own hand, with the book raised in her other, ready to be thrown if anyone but Moganthe came through the door.


"Be ready, have courage, and pray," she told her handmaiden as she sat on edge, waiting.

 

[4Chiri]

There was a clash, a spark of swords and the horse jumped away from the carriage, running off. Moganthe's voice sounded as a yell over the rest.


But as the a Priestess worried, an attacker suddenly ripped open the door, grabbing crazily at whomever he could reach. Yanking suddenly on Ithet's ankle. She shrieked, stabbing his hand with the needle.


But in his state of adrenaline, he didn't even feel it. She was dragged out into the ground with a scream.


Another bandit circled the other side and grabbed the Priestess' arm and yanked her too, out onto the ground.


Moganthe glanced over, after lopping off someone's head and ran forwards, throwing a dagger. Before the bandit caused any more damage to Melia; a knife sunk between his eyes and in a spray of blood he fell down dead.


In another blur Moganthe rushed forwards and with another yell raised his sword to the bandit grabbing Ithet and cut off his arm.


The man yelled and screamed in a frenzy rolling around in pain.

 

[Morigan]

When the door burst open there was no time to think, Melia chucked her heavy book at the first bandit, though it missed his head by inches and he yanked her handmaid out into the cold, despite being stabbed in the hand. Immediately Melia felt herself being grabbed as well, and though she kicked and struggled, her small stature kept her from escaping his grasp. She was thrown roughly to the ground and let out an involuntary yelp as she landed on her sholder, but before she could stand up her attacker fell- slain by the dagger between his eyes.


Melia scrabbled across the ground, moving to Ithet as Moganthe was suddenly there, fighting this bandit too. As he rolled around on the ground clutching his stump of an arm, Melia grabbed Ithet's hand and ran with her back to the carriage, looking around to see if any bandits remained. She turned, keeping herself between Ithet and the attackers, her knitting needle clutched firmly in her hand and poised to strike.


"Ithet, are you hurt?" she asked the girl over her shoulder.

 

[4Chiri]

"m-my ankle...!" she limped to one side, leaning against the carriage.


The only man left...writhing on the ground.


Moganthe walked up to him and without hesitation brought up his sword and cleaved right through the man's throat.


silence.


Moganthe sheathed his sword, and retrieved his knife from the bandits head. He looked around, no more danger and came quickly to the priestess and Ithet.


"are you alright?" he asked them both.


Ithet shook her head.


"I twisted my ankle...I think...I can't put pressure on it.." she said shakily.


He scanned over Melia, and met her eyes for a moment.


"are you alright milady?" he asked again.


his face splattered with a few droplets of blood, his armour with a scratch. He didn't seem to care, or look tired at all from the fight, not shaken in the least.

 

[Morigan]

A great sigh escaped Melia as she saw Moganthe dispatch the last of the bandits. "Praise be," she murmured quietly. As he moved toward them Melia glanced at his face- calm, self-assured, certain of victory. No wonder he had been named Warlord of the empire.


Melia tried to move the arm and shoulder on which she had landed, but as she did pain lanced through her. She let out a hiss and grimaced, though only her eyes narrowing were visible. "It is possible my shoulder has been dislocated," she said haltingly. "But let us get Ithet off her feet. A twisted ankle needs rest and elevation, else it may become exponentially worse. "


Melia dropped the needle in her right hand and reached to take Ithet's weight as much as she could. As long as she didn't try to move her left arm, she was fine. "You were very brave Ithet. Praise Irtoth'an we are alive, and praise the gods for you Moganthe. I have never seen such quick reaction."

 

[4Chiri]

"no." He said simply and took Ithet immediately in his arms. she gasped but he placed her in the carriage.


"you should do nothing, priestess, let me."


Before she could resist, he held her ankle, examining. carefully removing her shoe, he sighed.


".....sprain."


he went to the side bags and pulled out a splint...some wrap and tenderly set her ankle, wrapping it tightly for support. though there wasn't much he could do until they reached Dolcima.


He turned then to Melia and paused.


"Face the carriage, milady...lift your arm as high as you can and lean against it." he said calmly. "it will hurt...but I am no healer. I cannot help you because I cannot touch you."


Ithet watched with red in her cheeks, she could still feel the strength in the man's arms when he lifted her without effort.


"it will be temporarily set, but until we reach Dolcima, there isn't much I can do." he said regretfully, ignoring their earlier praises.

 

[Morigan]

Melia watched as he wrapped Ithet's ankle and set her in the carriage. As he turned his attention to her shoulder, Melia did as he instructed.


"It is no matter. I will bear it gladly- as a reminder that we are all alive when we cold be otherwise." She extended her arm upwards as far as she was able before the pain halted her movements with a gasp. She gritted her teeth and leaned her whole weight against it, pushing until she felt something give way in her shoulder. "I think that's done it," she said, breathing shallow from the discomfort. "Are we ready to continue? Ithet needs healers as soon as may be...and I admit, I too, will be glad of their attentions in Dolcima."


Melia climbed into the carriage, still favoring her good arm and doing her best to avoid making her left side worse.

 

[4Chiri]

He paused at the door before shutting it.


"...I apologise for letting this happen. I won't fail you again." he said and shut the door.


After a few moments of calming the horse and retying the reins the carriage was off.


Ithet sighed, her face still flushed.


"...are you sure you're alright milady?" she asked.

 

[Morigan]

He apologized and left before Melia could even get out the words to say that he hadn't failed them; in fact it was quite the opposite. Melia was sure that had anyone else been escorting them, she and her handmaid would have faced a far worse fate.


As the carriage began to move once again, Melia looked over at Ithet. "I am fine, but what of you? Your face is red...are you feeling faint? Do you need a cool rag for your forehead?" Melia removed her veil again, and began to get a rag for Ithet.

 

[4Chiri]

"n-no ma'am it's not that." she mumbled.


"I'm fine."


The morning was cold and quiet, as if nothing had ever happened. the occasional bird call, the subtle breeze. once even they passed a merchants wagon heading back towards the city.


'twas a long ride...


"Priestess...we didn't ask if the warlord was hurt..."

 

[Morigan]

Melia frowned as she realized Ithet was correct. "Shameful of us, we must pray for forgiveness. Though I don't know of he would have even answered us. He is very...stoic, I suppose." She picked up her embroidery again, but was too distracted to actually make any progress with it.


After another long period of silence she released a frustrated groan. "Now all I can think of is whether he is riding wounded and making it worse..." she trailed off worriedly.

 

[4Chiri]

"probably so...he isn't allowed to show any hesitance I assume.." she worried.


"...should we ask him? I'm not sure he'd appreciate it." she hesitated.

 

[Morigan]

"We will ask, I'm sure he will wish we hadn't- but it isn't worth serious injury or him losing his life because we did not want to ask him." She answered solemnly. "Let me cover my face once more, then you may ask." she said to her hand maid.


As she covered herself, leaving only her eyes visible, she nodded at Ithet to proceed.

 

[4Chiri]

"Warlord," she called out the window. Immediately the carriage stopped and he came to the window.


"is something the matter?" he asked, a hint of exhaustion in his voice.


"The Priestess and I wanted to know if you suffered any injuries?" she asked.


He hesitated.


"I will be fine, it's nothing you need to concern yourself with."

 

[Morigan]

"Moganthe, please. Be honest with us." Melia added her voice to Ithet's. "Consider what may happen if you are seriously injured." She kept her voice pleasant, but firm.


This was turning out to much more tricky than Melia had anticipated. She knew people would treat her differently but she never expected to have to choose each word so carefully with the people she would spend the rest of her life in close contact with.

 

[4Chiri]

"I understand," he breathed. "one of those attackers took a hammer to my hand, I suspect most of it is shattered..." he sighed, "but nothing that cannot be fixed once we reach a proper healer."


He stepped away from the curtain so it could no longer be discussed. "We will reach the city tonight," he said and that was it.


Ithet sighed.


"He must be in pain...I know I am."

 

[Morigan]

Melia nodded at Ithet sadly. "He does not wish our sympathies, and neither of us is a healer, so we must wait. We will arrive this evening and then it will be well."


Melia turned back to her sewing, spending the rest of the trip in silence, trying to focus on the upcoming ritual.

 

[4Chiri]

After several more hours of silent riding, the air became colder; the ground became white with snow. They were far north, near the base of the Atholas Mountains, fresh water from the wintry mountains flowed down the center of the country, forming the largest and most used Atholas River. Small flakes of snow fell from the grey sky and in the distance, the large Dolcima City gates parted open.


"Hail, Warlord, Mother Ezra has been awaiting the Priestess, we assume all is well?" Asked the royal guard as the carriage passed through the gate, immediately surrounded by citizens and guards.


"Aye," said Moganthe, his voice sounding more tired than before, "point us to the citadel, I would escort the priestess into the chamber personally."


"Yessir,".


There was noisy, late evening chatter. The clacking of the hooves and the pattering of the metal shoes; knights and people coagulating in the center of the cold, stone city.

"It's the Priestess!"


"She's finally here!"


"Is she here for the ritual?"


"What does she look like?"



​

Moganthe ignored them and slowly the carriage stopped in front of the Doclima Citadel where the ritual would take place. Mother Ezra stood waiting, herself wearing concealing robes she nodded as Moganthe opened the carriage door -- after all the citizens were held back by the countless knights that surrounded them.


"Mother," Moganthe said with a bow, "The Priestess and her handmaiden sustained minimal injury, they need treatment." he said.


Mother Ezra looked down at him in disappointment.


"We trust the Priestess in your hands Warlord, she should come to NO harm with you. You should be ashamed, Ceru forgive your negligence." she huffed beneath her robes.


"I understand...it will not happen again." he breathed and bowed, looking down to the ground.


"You will be perfect from now on, I am in a right mind to complain to the Emperor and have you replaced," she said, "you are dismissed, I will take the Priestess from here, come recieve her tomorrow." She said, and without a glance, Moganthe turned and took the carriage away.


Mother Ezra motioned for the Priestess to follow, while one of the Oracles rushed out and surrounded Melia. One of them helped Ithet and took her to a separate room while the Priestess was led down the halls.


"That Warlord should be punished, he does his title no justice," the Mother said, "I hope you are not in too much pain, we will quickly care for your wounds. The Gods see that you are alive today, Priestess, thank them, not the warlord."

 

[Morigan]

Melia was ushered away while Mother Ezra chastised Moganthe. She bristled at the criticism of her protector by this stranger who knew nothing of the situation. She opened her mouth to defend him, but winced as pain lit up her shoulder. Suddenly he was gone, and Ithet was taken to the healers immediately


"Warlord Moganthe has done a superior job defending us. He dispatched an entire group of bandits by himself. The gods are pleased with him. After all, we are all instruments of their will, are we not?" She looked at the Mother pointedly through her veil.


"My shoulder is tolerable, but I would be very thankful for a visit from a Healer to make sure it is set correctly. Also, send someone to see to the Warlord's hand," her tone brooked no opposition.


"Though of course, we are all grateful for the protection of the gods upon us. We all depend on their benevolence daily." Melia sighed and looked about for a place to rest while they waited for a healer to arrive. She spied a simple upholstered bench and moved to sit upon it. "The Emperor trusts the Warlord, and after today's trials, I do as well...more than ever."

 

[4Chiri]

The Mother sighed as healers came in and their warm glowing hands immediately took the pain from Melia's arm. It was as good as new. Just as fast they left and the Mother motioned for the Priestess to follow, there was no time to sit. The rituals would take place immediately.


"Any other commander would be able to do the same, as the Emperor trusts that Warlord, I do not." she paused, "but it is as you say, Priestess, though I am sure he needs no healer to fix his hand." she waved, "he is an instrument, something you should have no hesitance to replace, once broken."


Soon they were in a large dark room, in the middle was a pool, lowered into the floor about 3 feet, filled with dark, rippling blood. The large wooden door shut behind them and the only light came from the bright candles in the corners. Three Oracles and Archbishop Verodaius stood at the edges.


"Remove your robes Priestess, lay in the pool in the form you entered this world. Bare your skin and hear the beating of the world within you, understand the responsibilities of your name. Leave your previous life behind...you are no longer Melia from the small corners of the world. You are no longer an Oracle, you are a Priestess...always speaking with the gods on your tongue and the light in your eyes." Said the Archbishop.

 

[Morigan]

Though grateful to be healed herself, Melia found herself agitated still. "I'm afraid I really must insist a Healer is sent to him," she said, lacing her calm tone with a hint of force underneath while she held the Mother's gaze.


When she was told they were performing the ceremony immediately, she was both relieved and frustrated. A moment to rest seemed impossible, yet at the same time she would be glad to have this over with.


In the dark chamber, the candles lit the dark pool in the center of the room as she approached. The Archbishop began his recitation and Melia slowly and carefully removed her clothing, leaving orderly piles by the edge. She took small steps into the pool, sinking by inches into the sacred blood. When she had reached the center, she laid down and was completely covered, as the ritual demanded.

 

[4Chiri]

The thick warmth of the liquid lapped at all edges of her body. The silence was abysmal, but in the faint depths of the ambience, there were whispers...things one could not understand...


There was a burning sensation around her skin for but a second when she heard the voice of the Mother.


"You may rise now, Priestess, the ritual is complete."