Enslaved (Brides of the Kindred Book 14) (46 page)

“Why?”
she whispered through her tears, turning her face up towards the priestess.
“Why did you take them? It should have been me—you should have killed
me.”

“You
certainly
deserve
death but I
promised your mother we would try to cleanse you of the defilement first.”
Betina’s lip curled in disgust. “As we are not yet done, you must live a little
longer. Now
dig,”
she snarled,
kicking Trin in the side.
“With your
hands.
You must bury these creatures as a fitting sacrifice to the Goddess
of Judgment—though not nearly as fitting as if you had done your duty and
sacrificed them yourself.”

Trin
looked around her dully. That had been hours ago. She had been digging steadily
ever since and still the hole she’d made still wasn’t half big enough for even
Swift, let alone Silk as well. The dirt and stones of the temple garden was as
hard and ungiving as the head priestess’s heart. Trin’s hands were bleeding,
her nails chipped and torn. There was mud and blood mixed into the long welts
which scored her body and she felt she would never be clean again—either inside
or out.

“Please,”
she whispered, looking up at the high priestess. “Can I…could I just have a
drink of water?” Between the blood she’d given at the alter of the Goddess and all
the tears she’d shed, she felt horribly dehydrated.

“No,”
snapped Betina. “A Defiled One must strive to cry and sweat and bleed the
impurities from her body—she must not replenish herself until her purity is
restored.”

“But…what
else can I do? What will it take to restore me?” Trin dared to ask. “I don’t
know what else the Goddess wants of me…and you’ve already forced me to give her
something so precious…” Her eyes wandered to Swift and Silk, lying motionless
beside her.

The
priestess sneered. “You think the death of a few animals can appease the wrath
of the Goddess of Judgment? Let me assure you, we have barely scratched the
surface of your sin.”

“But—”
Trin began again. Just then, however, one of the other, lesser priestesses came
out of the temple and whispered something in the Head priestess’s ear.

Trin
wondered what she was saying but the long hood the priestess wore over her face
muffled the noise.

“Really?”
Betina’s beady eyes widened and she stared speculatively at Trin. “Is that
truly so?”

The
priestess nodded solemnly.

“Well.
This requires some thought. Come.” The high priestess motioned in the direction
of the temple. Then she threw a glance back at Trin. “You—keep digging. Oh, and
think about what you would like to sacrifice next, at the ceremony tomorrow
morning.”

“Sacrifice
next?”
Trin could hardly believe her
ears. She motioned at the dead bodies of her beloved horses. “What are you
talking about? What more can I give—what does the Goddess require of me before
she’ll forgive me?”

Betina’s
eyes flashed.

“She
requires that which is most precious to you. Tell me, something girl—did you
love the male you allowed to defile you?”

Though
she knew it would get her into worse trouble, Trin couldn’t bring herself to
lie. Lifting her chin, she looked Betina in the eye.

“Yes,”
she said simply. “I loved him.”

The
priestess looked disgusted.

“Loving
a male…I thought as much. Well, if he were here the Goddess would require that
you give him as your pets were given. But since he is not, you must part with
something else—some part of yourself you would rather not lose.”

“I…I’ve
already cut off my hair and given my blood and been permanently scarred,” Trin
whispered, touching her ragged fingertips to the bloody welts on her face.

“That
is only the beginning. You must decide what you wish to lose. Some of the
Defiled choose to cut off a finger…some an ear. Occasionally we have a
particularly remorseful candidate who elects to put out an eye.” She shrugged.
“The choice is yours.”

Trin
looked at the priestess, her heart galloping in her chest. She had heard of
such practices—all the Daughters of Zetta Prime who were sent to the temple for
religious instruction had—but somehow she had never imagined they would be
applied to her.

“You…you
want to cut off my finger or poke…poke out my eye?” she whispered in a dry,
breathless voice.

“Oh
no, my dear…” Betina smiled maliciously. “I want
you
to cut off one of your fingers or poke out one of your eyes.
This sacrifice must be made by
you.
Otherwise
the Goddess will not accept it.”

“But…but…”
Trin shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing.

“Now
I must go. Keep digging. Those beasts won’t bury themselves.”

And
the high priestess turned, leaving Trin alone in the garden with only her dead
horses for company.

Chapter
Thirty-four

“Oh
honey, look at you—you’re a mess!”

“I
hate to say it but Charlie’s right—you’re in a state.”

Trin
looked up blearily, trying to find the source of the voices. It was dark in the
garden—long past midnight she thought—and she had finally finished the grave
she’d been set to dig. She’d been too weak, though, to push Swift and Silk into
the huge hole. When she’d tried, a wave of dizziness had overcome her and she
had collapsed at the side of the grave, breathing hard as the world faded to
gray.

“Who…who
are you?” she managed to croak, looking up at them. They were wearing the robes
of lesser priestesses but she couldn’t see their faces.

“Someone
who’s been watching you and who cares about you,” the first voice, called
Charlie said firmly. “Just think of me and Becca as your guardian angels.”

“Come
on, we’ve got to get her to safety—we should be able to sneak her out and get
back to the ship before anyone notices if we hurry,” the second voice, who must
be Becca said.

“No,
I
told
you, Becca, she has to make
her own choice. We can’t take her until she
wants
to go.”

“Just
look at her, poor thing! Of
course
she
wants to go.”

“No,
I don’t,” Trin tried to raise her voice to be heard but her words came out in a
dry croak. “I…I can’t,” she added and started coughing. “I’ve been so…so
wicked. I deserve to be punished.”

“Oh,
sweetie—is
that
what you think?”
Becca’s voice was soft and sympathetic.

“It…it’s
what I know,” Trin whispered, wondering why a priestess would ask such an
obvious question.

“Were
these horses yours?” Charlie asked, pointing at the still bodies of Swift and
Silk. “So sad. I love horses but I didn’t think they had them outside of
Earth.”

“They
were imported for me—I raised them from foals.” Trin felt like she would have
cried again if she had any moisture left in her body to cry with. “Betina—the
high priestess—s-shot them r-right in fr-fr-front of me. She said I had to
sacrifice them as penance for my sins.”

“What
a bitch,” Charlie said flatly.

“How
awful!” Becca squeezed her arm sympathetically and Trin yelped as the long
hrakka
welts burned at the contact. “Oh,
sorry—your poor arm!”

“Please…”
Trin still didn’t know what to make of them. “Please, why are you here?”

“To
help you,” the first voice—the one called Charlie said.

“And
to get your ass out of here when you’re ready to go,” the second—Becca—added.

They
supported Trin under her arms and helped her get up and back into the temple.
Once inside they had a brief, whispered consultation about which way to go.

“She
needs a bath,” Becca said. “Or at least a shower—something. Just look at the
poor thing—she’s covered in dirt and blood.”

“That
might make them suspicious,” Charlie pointed out. “We can’t risk it.”

“We
have
to,” Becca said firmly. “Think
of how unsanitary this is—she’s going to get an infection.”

“Please,”
Trin croaked. “Water…”

That
seemed to decide them.

“We
can get her a drink when we get her bathed,” Becca said decisively. “She’s probably
completely dehydrated.”

“All
right. Good thing Stavros was able to get the schematics of this place,”
Charlie muttered. She consulted some kind of hand-held device and pointed.
“Look, the bathing area is this way.”

The
three of them walked down the long hallway, their bare feet whispering on the
stone floor as they went. From time to time they passed other priestesses but
not many as it was very late. Charlie and Becca kept their heads low, their
faces still cloaked by their gray hoods so that Trin had no idea what her new
friends looked like—if they really
were
friends. She wondered tiredly where they came from and why they were bothering
with her. After all, what was she but worthless scum—a woman who had allowed
herself to take pleasure in being with a male? Why would anyone want to help
her?

Her
thoughts were interrupted when Becca said, “Here it is!”

They
turned down a long corridor which had a simple white curtain at one end. Past
the curtain they found the bathing area which was just a row of shower stalls divided
by hanging plasti-cloth sheets with spray nozzles attached to the stone walls.

“Okay,
let me get this ready for you,” Charlie said, once she’d checked to see that
they were alone. “We need it warm but not too hot since you’re all cut up.”

She
stood in one stall and pushed the sheet aside so she could reach the water
gauge in the next one without getting her gray robes wet. But when the spray of
water came out, she wasn’t pleased.

“What’s
wrong?” Becca asked, frowning. “We need to hurry.”

“I
know but the water’s freezing cold! Like needles of
ice
. And no matter which way I twist the knob, it won’t get warm.”

“That
is because this is the novices’ bathing area—novice priestesses are not allowed
warm water for bathing until they complete their first year and become
initiates.”

The
new voice made them all turn around quickly.

“Oh,
hi. Um, I mean, greetings, fellow priestess,” Charlie said quickly to the
lesser priestess standing there behind them with a curious look on her face.
Trin noticed that she and Becca kept their hoods on, hiding their faces, though
the new girl had thrown hers back, the better to talk to them.

“Who
are you?” the girl, who had pale skin and light purple hair asked. “Are you new
to our temple?”

“Yes,
we are,” Becca said quickly. “We were told by the, uh, head priestess that we
needed to clean this girl up.” She nodded at Trin.

“You
mean the
high
priestess?” the girl
asked.

“Um,
right—the
high
priestess,” Charlie
said quickly. “We call ours the head priestess sometimes back at our home
temple.”

“Oh?
Where
is
the temple you come from?”
The girl raised a slim purple eyebrow.

“Um…”
Charlie and Becca were clearly at a loss.

“Shatterline,”
Trin croaked, helping them out. “They come from the Shatterline province.”

This
seemed to satisfy the priestess with the purple hair.

“All
right—good meeting, sisters.”

“Good
meeting…sister,” Becca said, echoing her words. “And thank you for telling us
about the water situation.”

“Yes,
where
can
we find some good hot
water?” Charlie asked.

“If
you have the clearance to go into the initiates’ bathing room, it’s down the
corridor and up three flights—by the high priestess’s wing.” The girl shook her
head. “But are you
certain
you’re
meant to allow the Defiled One to wash? She is still undergoing the
purification ritual, isn’t she?”

“The
Defiled One?”
Becca sounded incensed.
“Is
that
what you’re calling this
poor girl?”

The
priestess shrugged. “That’s what she is—she allowed a male to
penetrate
her and fill her with his
seed.”
She made a face as though it was
the most disgusting thing she’d ever heard of and Trin felt herself wither
inside with shame. “Why—do you call such females something else at your home
temple in Shatterline?”

“No,
we…we haven’t had this situation before. That’s all,” Charlie said quickly.
“Well, it’s getting late so we’d better be getting along.”

“As
you wish. I bid you good evening.” The girl put her hood back on and made a
slow bow before leaving the bathing area.

“Come
on,” Becca hissed. “Let’s get out of here and find the other bathroom.”

“Wait.”
Charlie put a hand on her arm. “That girl said it was by the high priestess—do
you think we should risk it?”

“I
think we can’t put poor Trin into a freezing cold shower in the state she’s
in,” Becca snapped. “So yes, I think we have to risk it.”

“Becca—”

“It’s
all right.” With an effort, Trin shook free of their hands and stepped into one
of the stalls. Trying to brace herself, she twisted the controls and held her
breath as icy needles of water bit into her skin.

“Trin,
honey—no! You don’t have to do that!” Becca protested. “We’ll get you someplace
with hot water, I
promise
.”

“Don’t
d-deserve h-hot water,” Trin answered, her teeth chattering. “D-don’t deserve
w-water at all.”

But
she was so thirsty she couldn’t help taking deep gulps of the stinging spray.
And despite the frigid temperature, the water did at least rinse her free of
dirt and grime. It also rinsed away the stinging acidic solution which had been
on the claws of the
hrakka.
Trin
sighed in relief when it sluiced off her skin. She hadn’t realized how much
pain she’d been in until it finally eased some. For hours the
hrakka
venom had felt like millions of tiny
stinging insects all over her body—now they were finally gone.

Closing
her eyes, she turned around under the cold spray, cleaning her outer self
thoroughly.
If only it was so easy to
clean my inside,
she thought but that was impossible. She was dirty and
sinful and disgusting and there was nothing she could do about it. Even the
sacrifice of her beloved horses had not appeased the Goddess—it seemed no
amount of pain could appease her.

Which is why I have to decide if I want to
lose a finger or an ear or an eye,
Trin thought and shuddered. She tried to
push the idea away—she would have to face it soon enough but for now, she just
wanted to feel clean. At least on the outside.

At
last when her teeth were chattering so hard she couldn’t keep them still, Charlie
pulled her out of the tub and found several rough lengths of fabric to dry her
welted skin.

“Are
you kidding me with these towels?” she muttered under her breath, trying her
best to blot Trin dry gently. “What the hell is wrong with this place? Are they
all masochists or sadists or what?”

“It
doesn’t matter.” Trin took the rough towel from her and wrapped it around her
scored and stinging flesh, ignoring the way it scratched her wounded flesh.

“Yes,
it does,” Becca insisted. “And what did they do to you, anyway? I couldn’t tell
before with all the dirt but girl, you are
all
scratched up. You’re a mess.” She reached out a hand and for the first
time, Trin noticed her skin tones—they were the same creamy brown as her
own—maybe just a shade lighter.

“You…you’re…”
She compared their hands. “You’re like me! I’ve never seen anyone like me
outside the few Earth vids my mother let me watch as a child!”

“That’s
because I’m
from
Earth—Charlie and I
both are.” Becca threw back her hood to give Trin a better look and Charlie did
the same.

“All
the way from Earth?” Trin looked at them blankly. “But…what are you doing
here?”

“That’s
a long story.” Charlie put her hood back up and Becca did the same. “Come
on—let’s find a safe place to talk and we’ll tell you.”