Unveiling the Sorceress

Today the temple was fairly subdued. A temple priestess moved amongst the candles, shifting some, lighting others, her simple white gown swaying as she moved, her long hair trailing down from her shoulders to the back of her thighs. The few candles that were lit had been placed around the massive representation of the goddess herself, at the center of the temple. The flickering flames of the candlelight reflected here and there on the precious metal on the floor, so that Sevita appeared like a sun radiating out from her center.

As they walked toward the massive stone statue, the twins separated off, each taking a kneeling cushion in the shadows, allowing Elishiba this personal moment with her favored goddess.

A long, velvet-covered kneeling pad stood at the bottom of the steps up to the statue. Elishiba set her basket on the floor and then dropped to her knees, looking up at the goddess. Here she found her own serenity, her own strength. She drew it from the goddess who was loved by her people.

The stone likeness was the height of five men, reaching almost into the roof of the

temple. Sevita was depicted naked and on her knees. Between her open thighs, precious gems, silver and gold coins were piled up into the crease of her womanly channel, like the waters that she watched over, the essence of life. The serene face of the goddess smiled down at Elishiba, and she felt almost at peace, for the first time in many days.

"Guide me, Sevita,” she whispered. “Show me the way, whether it be through wit, war, or self-sacrifice, I need to know the way."

Above the statue, high in the ceiling of the temple, a patterned beam of sunlight poured through a carved panel, spiraling out, creating a spiritual pathway between Sevita's heavenly being and her physical representation here in the temple. As Elishiba looked at the statue and then up, to the pathway of light to the spiritual being in the heavens, words whispered around her mind.

By the goddess Sevita, it will be.

Yoshi's predictions. The echo of those words made Elishiba's skin tingle. Amshazar's image came to her mind—it was never far away, not since she had first seen him. It caused a wave of heightened awareness to wash over her body. The desire that she felt for him, was it wrong? Would it cloud her vision? Would it put her people in danger if she allowed herself to be totally seduced by his spell?

Staring up at the statue, she felt only the warm embrace of the goddess's love in response to her many questions. Sighing, her gaze rested on the bountiful breasts of the goddess, and her own breasts ached to be touched.

He will sup from the waters of her secret oasis, deep within your body.

Again, Yoshi's predictions haunted her. Heat flared at her core, her channel tightening. She blinked back the wave of desire that coursed through her, her body wavering.

"Trust in the goddess,” a woman's voice whispered.

Elishiba turned toward the sound.

It was the temple priestess. She had paused beside the kneeling figure of her cloaked empress, a bundle of candles in her arms. “I sense you have a woman's decision to make, am I right?"

Elishiba nodded, her fingers moving to the scarf that covered her head and face, making sure it had not slipped and her identity was still well hidden.

"You must live as the goddess would, if she were a woman."

"Yes, I feel that too.” What the priestess said made sense to her. The goddess's love was bountiful, her passion immeasurable, her serenity a given. “I must undertake a great task, and I seek the goddess's guidance on the decisions I must make."

The priestess nodded. “If you have asked for her protection, and have faith in her bounty, she will help you."

"Thank you, for your words.” Elishiba looked from the kindly, wise face of the priestess, back to that of the stone goddess, taking the simple advice into her heart.

The priestess smiled and moved on.

Elishiba lingered a while, until she heard other visitors arrive, then she stood and took her leave, locking into her heart her faith in the goddess, taking Sevita with her.

Out on the street, the sun seemed even brighter after the hushed, shadowy interior, and they hurried on. They were soon deep within the hub of the Souk, with the scent of spices, rising bread and freshly roasted meats tempting the palate. The bright colors of the goods and the sellers’ costumes were vivid in the sunlight. It blazed off brass ornaments, drawing out the subtlest glossy threads woven into sumptuous carpets, brightly patterned blankets and the great reams of material stacked everywhere. Beads and embroidered head dresses were spread out on the ground, watched over by the hunched figures of wizened grandmothers, who rarely looked up, unless they sensed a buyer approach, or to chase off the scrawny dogs who closed in at regular intervals to cause momentary chaos.

Instinct seemed to lend itself to their sales and the protection of their wares.

Further along the street, ripe fruits were heaped on display. The aroma of their fermenting sugars hung heavy on the air, redolent enough to inspire their flavors on the tongue. A young man offered fresh slices of mango, bartering with buyers, hawking his wares. As they walked by, Elishiba stopped to take an offered sliver of the fruit from his knife, sliding it beneath her veils to bite its firm flesh. The flavor melted over her tongue. She indicated to the twins, and they bought some of his wares, pausing to speak with him awhile.

Elishiba moved on, observing the open doorways of the buildings clustered beyond the stalls, where dusky figures stood in the shadows, watching, and waiting. The seductive music that echoed through the walls and into the streets, made the lusty undercurrents known to the observant. The women were barely concealed by strings of beads or thin gauze curtains, which made them at once hidden, yet totally visible: the women of the Souk, lusty creatures whose wares were more sensual in nature.

Today they seemed symbolic of everything for sale here, exotic and sensual. The seductive voices from inside the cramped houses seemed to speak to her then, whispering of love and lust. Is this what Sevita wanted her to know and consider? Beneath the hubbub of voices, she almost heard the secret sounds of the women's clothes swishing across stone floors as they danced for their men.

She breathed deep the heady mixture of life here in the heart of the city. It was here that Elishiba felt most a part of the city, its life, truly, thriving on its energies, its vibrancy. The city was a woman, Elishiba was sure of it. Like the goddess who watched over it, lush and fecund. Deep inside, Elishiba craved that too, to be her essential woman, to know herself and to always be sure of it.

As the twins meandered off between the stalls, she watched a man approach a beaded curtain, tempted to another vision of life, one of simple pleasures. He was tall and sparely built, but there was a suggestion of vitality in his leanly muscled frame. His features were rugged, his skin dark. He wore his hair held loosely at the nape of his neck. A robe was slung back over his shoulders and the emblem of The Immortals was visible on his breastplate.

He was one of her men.