Chapter 3

Writer's note: I knew this would be hard, but it's not something you really do until you start experiencing just how freaking hard it is to write 1,667 words a day on one story. I never was good at subplots. I've never been good at finishing things like this either. So here it is. I vomit it for you on the page.

“In a weeks time, when the moon is full for the fist night, she’ll be sacrificed to the Orin she loves so much. Come find me when she wakes,” I heard before I slipped back into unconsciousness. When I next awoke, it was to the Priest sitting, watching me. I closed my eyes again, willing it to be a bad dream. Mentor was passed out among the Orin bones, not lying crumpled dead at the feet of one. I was not going to be sacrificed in a few days time.
“Open your eyes back up, Lisha. It’s time to face your sacrificer,” my eyes flew open.
“You arrogant, self-satisfied piece of shit don’t you ever use my name. Priest or no Priest, Das, if it ever passes your lips again I’ll tear you apart and take great pleasure in it,” I whispered at him as his smile oozed off his face and he turned pale.
“Where did you find out my name?” he asked, growing more angered the incredulous by the second.
“You don’t have as many loyal followers as you think,” I spat at him, “I also know it comes from the name Judas, not the name Leonidas as you claim. You wish that your name meant something as proud as the Warrior of the Spartan army. You wish your name meant ‘courageous’. No, instead your mother saw it fit to name you after the cowardly, two-faced Disciple of Jesus Christ. So tell me Judas, who is your Jesus and what’s your twenty pieces of silver? Who’re you betraying, thinking it’s all for the good but is really killing the son of God?”
“You snake. You slithering, cunning, conniving SNAKE!” he screamed and launched himself at my bed, pulling the covers off my naked form. I pulled my knife from its hiding place beside my bed and held it to his neck as the door opened and my favorite Warrior entered. She was the one who taught me how to use weapons and to always keep several within reach.
“You will not attack or molest me, Das. You will never take that dignity away from me,” I told him in a clear, quiet voice as a stream of blood flowed down my blade and dripped onto my chest.
“That won’t be true in a few days. Then you’ll have no choice,” he whispered, sitting up and putting his hand to the shallow cut.
“There is always a choice, Das. Always. And I have made mine.”
“Take her to the holding hut for the sacrifices. Remove all her weapons,” he ordered the Warrior before he stepped out. We both knew he hadn’t gone far, so we couldn’t talk. So I did all that I could think to silently do — throw myself at Na and hold her tightly to me. In one bad night I had lost my Mentor and safety and perhaps my life. As a Beloved I would never be allowed to go out to the Orin again, to leave the area of the Beloved, to study the creatures and plants of our forest. I would not be able to read the books of the religion or any of Mentor’s writings. The tribe would be pleased, to finally have turned me into a proper female. Na ended the hug and spoke in a loud voice so she could clearly be heard by the eavesdropping Das.
“Hand over all knives, garroting wires and other assorted weapons,” she ordered. I took the hint and made loud banging and clanking noises to cover the sound of me slipping one small, sharp, flat knife into my waistband and to tie one wire around the upper part of my thigh. Na had taught me the uses of these weapons and I was not afraid to use them if I found the right time.
“Stop there, Warrior, and allow her to be searched by another. She may have befuddled your senses and slipped a weapon in somewhere,” Das said, his eyes raking up and down my body. I could just imagine where he thought I might “slip” a weapon. Na’s hackles rose at any hint of mention that her skill and judgment was anything less than standard. This man truly was an idiot. Na wasn’t just any Warrior, but the Head of them. They all respected and followed her judgment. If they couldn’t, they were turned out and a new job was found for them.
“I apologize, Head, but I have been ordered to search this prisoner,” Darr told her and Na knew who to be angry at.
“You doubt me enough to call in another to search her?” she asked, turning her cold stare on Das. She made no threatening movements toward him. Only frigid awareness, the coldest gaze spread over to him.
“I-I-I d-d-do not d-d-doubt you. I only suspect her charming and beguiling ways. I will trust the two of you to escort her,” he stuttered and then skittered off. A true testament to her people’s loyalty I felt his hands find both weapons but he never hesitated, never let on to the crowd that had gathered to watch my shame. They then both seized an arm and steered me to one of the huts.
“Thank you Right Arm. You may return to your duties now,” Na told him. He nodded and trotted off to his Sentry posting. The dolt of a Priest had pulled a Sentry to search me, when everyone was terrified senseless of the rest of the Orin awakening and coming to kill us all in revenge.
“If you are to use the knife, slip it between the third and fourth rib and thrust up. If you use the wire, pull up long and hard. Do not stop until you cut his head clean off,” Na whispered to me once we reached the inside of the hut. She then hugged me once more and left. I collapsed to the ground and stared at the wall for a time.Mentor was dead. He was dead and I was to be sacrificed by Das. I was going to be forced by Das unless I could think up some sort of plan.