The Darkness Comes (The Second Book of the Small Gods Series) (34 page)

***

Juddah sat on a chair with a high back and a thick cushion on the seat, his hat in his hands, turning the brim through his fingers as he waited. As always, the thought of visiting the Sisters of Jubha Kyna seemed a good idea while in the comfort of his own shack, an erection straining the fabric of his overalls. As always, nerves rose to the surface upon approaching the temple. Now, waiting in the reception hall, fidgeting with his head wear and wondering if his cock would do him the favor of not curling up and hiding like a hibernating bear, he regretted making the trip.

A thin sheen of sweat stuck a few strands of hair that had escaped the pig fat to his forehead. He wiped at it with his sleeve and huffed a breath.

Ain’t too late. Still could get up and leave.

No one would judge him for it, at least not until he made the mistake of returning.

He shuffled his feet, readying himself to follow through on the thought, when the young woman returned. The wide smile on her lips pushed him back onto the chair, froze the hat in his hands.

“Ready,” she said.

Juddah licked his lips—the action hidden beneath his mustache—and raised his brows in an expression that might have been considered either questioning or surprised.

“It…it ain’t you I’m seeing. Is it?”

On another visit, a younger initiate had left him embarrassed about his…challenge…so he’d requested one of the older Sisters. Experience told him the mature ones managed more understanding of such things.

“No, sir. A new Sister is waiting for you.”

“New? You mean young, like you?”

The young woman—hardly old enough to be called a woman—shook her head. “No. She is a Mother who’s seen many seasons, as requested.”

Juddah raised his hand to his face, inserted a finger through the forest of facial hair, and chewed the corner of his fingernail. The digit tasted of pig fat.

“Not too old, though.”

“Come.”

She gestured with her fingers, smile sticking stubbornly on her lips, eyes shining. A piece of dyed leather held her long auburn hair off her face, accenting sculpted cheekbones and upward tilted nose. A beautiful girl. When she came across the hall toward him, Juddah’s staff shrank a little more.

“Will—”

“Come, sir. I’ll take you to her room and, if you are dissatisfied with the selection, we will find another sister who better suits you.” She offered a hand like she meant to help him stand. “Perhaps you’ll choose me if she doesn’t meet your needs.”

One glimmering brown eye winked at him and Juddah gulped down a mouthful of saliva that might have been rocks. Without another word, he climbed out of the chair, refusing to accept her hand. The young woman didn’t appear to take offense at his refusal of assistance, his avoidance of her touch, and led him toward the stairs to the second floor.

They ascended the steps in silence, the girl with her head up and her back straight, Juddah slumping his shoulders and watching his boots instead of the shape of her hips in the form-hugging smock. Gawking at her would increase his nerves and make things worse, he knew.

After passing a landing, they reached the top of the stairs and continued along the hall to a door standing half open. The young woman pushed it the rest of the way and stood aside, motioning for Juddah to enter. He stepped into the doorway and paused.

The woman sitting on the edge of the bed was certainly older than the Sister who’d led him up the stairs. Her dark hair cropped close to her skull showed flecks of gray and, even from across the room, Juddah saw shallow lines beside her eyes. Wisdom lines, his mother had called them. She sat straight and erect enough to give the impression of tension filling her limbs. Juddah’s nerves eased, his staff emerged from its den.

He faced the younger woman and found her peering at him, brow raised in silent question. Juddah nodded in response and she ushered him across the threshold. He obliged and she shut the door behind him, the latch catching with a soft click.

The woman on the bed didn’t move. She stared at the wall, as though looking through it rather than at it, the wavering light of the oil lamp on the dresser reflected in her unblinking eyes. Juddah fidgeted foot to foot, resisting the urge to chew his nails as he awaited her invitation to enter.

After a short while in which Juddah wiped sweat off his palms on the stiff front of his pants legs, ran his fingertips completely around the outside edge of his hat, and chewed on over-long mustache hairs, the woman finally shifted.

“Hello?” she said, head tilted more toward Juddah; her gaze didn’t settle on him.

“Erm…hello.”

Finger to his mouth, he nibbled the nail. She moved on the bed again, but still didn’t look at him.

“Are you…” She paused and sighed deeply, as though she’d lost her wind mid-sentence. A faint smile appeared on her lips, but Juddah suspected it wasn’t real. “Are you just going to stand by the door or are you coming in?”

“N—no, Ma’am. I mean, yes, Ma’am.”

Juddah crossed toward the bed, loose boot heel scuffing in carpet deeper than he’d ever seen. Someone had gone overboard on it, really. His eyes flickered to the dresser, then the bedside table, watching for things he might add to his collection that this woman wouldn’t miss. A brush with an ivory handle sitting on the dresser beside the oil lamp caught his attention, but he already had brushes. A tiny silver bell on the bedside table caught his eye.

Juddah stopped in front of the woman, looking down at her. She turned her head, eyes still staring off at something other than him, but he barely noticed as he directed his own gaze to his feet.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“J—Juddah.”

His staff shrank up and the sweat he’d wiped off his palms came back. His hands ached to wipe the perspiration away again, but he resisted the urge. Realization his trip to Jubha Kyna might’ve been a bad idea rose up in his mind, but how to get out of it now? He’d paid his coin and he stood before this beautiful woman who had an expectation of him satisfying her. What would she do when he gave her only disappointment? Laugh?

The brim of his hat crimped in his grip.

“Creidra said you live near the shore, Juddah.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I have never been to the shore. Tell me what it’s like.”

Juddah raised his eyes, confused. In all his misguided visits to the temple, none of the women had ever asked anything more than how he wanted to be pleasured. His gaze trailed up her gray smock that didn’t fit her so tight as the younger woman’s. Her disinterest continued, staring off to the left of him, and he noticed a thin white film clouding her eyes. He raised a hand, waved it in front of her face. No reaction.

“Can’t you see?”

The woman’s expression fell. Her lips quivered like her mouth wanted to speak but didn’t know how. He waited.

“Creidra didn’t tell you?”

The long whiskers of his beard scraped against the front of his overalls with the shake of his head. When she didn’t react, he realized his mistake.

“No. Didn’t say anything.”

“I can have Creidra get another Sister, if you want.” Strangely, her mood seemed to brighten. “It isn’t a bother.”

“It’s fine.”

Her head tilted and her unseeing eyes finally found his, the cloudiness making their natural brown fade to a stale shade of gray similar to her smock. What might have been tears shimmered around their edges.

“You can’t see anything at all?” Juddah asked, his gaze flickering to the silver bell on the table beside the bed, then back to her.

“No. I’m sorry.” Despair choked her words. “Nothing at all.”

Juddah sat on the bed to her right, positioning himself between the woman and the table. He glanced at the bell and back.

“How long’ve you been without your sight? Born that way?”

“No.” Her chin drooped forward, nearly touching her chest. “I…I don’t belong here.”

Her shoulders rose and fell with a sob she’d tried to contain but failed. Juddah stared, unsure what to do. This wasn’t at all what he expected from a visit to the Sisters of Jubha Kyna; his staff quivered in his drawers, surprising him.

“You’re not one of the Goddess’ wh…” He hesitated.

“One of the Goddess’ whores? No.” She covered her mouth, holding in another sob. “Home is a long way from here.”

Juddah put his hat on the bedside table, concealing the shiny silver bell beneath, and raised his hand toward the woman. Pausing before he touched her, he saw his hand tremoring. The Juddah who normally visited Jubha Kyna would have stopped short, worried about the inadequacy of any stimulation he offered, but in this woman he sensed a difference from the others, a wonderfulness he’d never noticed in a woman before. He rested his fingers on her shoulder and his manhood expanded, a tortoise emerging from its shell.

“We don’t have to do this,” he said, staring at his hand on her, hoping she’d agree.

She sniffed hard. “We don’t?”

“No. Don’t really seem like your thing.” Relief flooded through Juddah and his staff grew in response. His gaze flickered to his crotch.

“It’s not,” the woman said, her words a half-laugh, half-sob that became outright tears an instant later. “I don’t want to be here.”

Juddah’s eyes widened, the bell hidden beneath his hat forgotten. His mind flashed to his barn, built of salvaged materials, its sundry contents he’d procured over the years. The horse and gear he’d found wandering in the woods with a dead man hanging in the saddle. The cow he’d come across right outside Birk’s fence—fair game for any collector. Kooj who’d wandered onto his land, limping on a broken leg.

And the man he’d discovered near-drowned on his beach.

Juddah put his finger to his mouth, gnawed the corner of his nail, the movement in his britches growing into a modest bulge.

“You can come with me.”

***

Ailyssa stood in front of the open window she hadn’t realized was beside the bed. Only a short time had passed since Juddah pried it open and levered himself out through it. Headword by the grunting and panting, Ailyssa guessed that when Creidra referred to him as a large man, she’d meant he was bulky. He’d dangled from the windowsill for a moment, getting ready before letting go and tumbling to the ground with a thump and a woof of air. Ailyssa held her hand to her mouth, leaning out the window as though she might see him. After a brief pause, he caught his breath and called up to her that he was all right and he’d be right back for her.

Unbelievably, Juddah had offered not only to help her escape, but to aid in finding Claris, too. Ailyssa hugged herself, protecting her body from the slight breeze blowing through the open window while trying to calm the bundled nerves firing through her. Just when she thought things their darkest, this man showed up to rescue her. She should be overjoyed, spilling over with relief, but trepidation coiled in her belly. Hadn’t she thought herself saved from starvation and a lonely death when Creidra found her? That salvation had turned into a nightmare. She shivered and thought of the Goddess’ teachings:

An unfortunate past does not predict a terrible fate. Live in the now, not the then or the yet to come.

The words had provided comfort when she needed it before—when she lamented her Mother, when Claris and her sons were taken—and she wished for them to do the same now, but her heart resisted. If the Goddess had deserted her, she’d be unlikely to return.

Ailyssa sighed and shifted, her thigh bumping the edge of the bedside table. She froze, worried she’d knock over the bell intended to call for help if she needed it. The tiny clapper didn’t jingle. She released her breath and reached out for the bell’s handle, intending to put it on the bed, place a pillow over it, and ensure its silence, but didn’t find it. She bent and brushed her hand over the top of the table.

It’s gone.

Though she had no need of it, she wondered what had happened. Had she used it once too often and Creidra took it away? No matter, she wouldn’t be requiring it again.

“Ailyssa.”

The word floated up from below on a hoarse whisper. She grasped the lintel and leaned out for him to see her.

“I’m here. Right below the window.”

Ailyssa nodded. “How will you get me?”

“You have to jump.”

The words chilled the blood flowing through Ailyssa’s veins. “Jump?” she squeaked.

“Ain’t no other way.”

“But we have to find Claris.”

“We’ll do that once you’re out. Jump.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to. I’ll catch you.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

Silence hung in the air, disturbed only by a bird chirping its chicks to sleep in a nest built in the overhang of the roof.

“Do you want to stay here?”

Nausea roiled in Ailyssa’s belly as she remembered the things the other men before Juddah made her do. She thought of the dungeon room with its chains and whips and things she couldn’t begin to put name to. Bitter saliva spilled into her mouth, reminding her of what the last man filled it with. She covered her lips to make sure she didn’t vomit out the window on her would-be rescuer.

“No,” she said after swallowing hateful bile. “I don’t want to stay.”

“Put your legs out through the window. Hang down far as you can. Let go when I say. I’ll catch you.”

She responded with a nod and leaned away from the window, rubbing her palms together, feeling the bandage protecting her right hand. The toe of her sandal brushed up the wall, finding its way to the window in the bright glare of her blindness. When she’d gotten it through, the other leg followed, leaving her hanging over the sill, the top of her body inside the room, her legs dangling outside. It occurred to her that Juddah could see up the skirt of her smock and that she wore no underpants. Still preferable to what might have happened had he been the same as the other men.

“Lower yourself down,” he whispered.

Ailyssa did, her stomach scraping against the wall below the window. She winced, gritted her teeth, and continued. A moment later, she dangled from the sill, panting with fear and exertion.

“Okay. Let go.”

She didn’t, choosing to hang instead, scared for her life. Scared of her life. What if he didn’t catch her and she broke her leg? Would he still take her with him, or would she become a blind and crippled whore?