The Sighs of the Priestess Ch. 08

They looked at the others to see if they'd be rejected. Sorn was prepared to pull down their tent if he had to and they'd ride off into the darkness to find another home for themselves where no one knew them, but Illya reached out his arms to take theirs and he said, "I hope that you find your peace together. No one will tell what you have said. For myself, I think it would be the wisest thing to keep your past as a secret between you, but you do as you must."

Smyrna nodded, "I have lived at Jebel Bishri for a long time. Something like this, what is between you, would not cause you to be left outside, no. But it might make some who you could have as good friends otherwise keep their distance over something that does not concern them and that they cannot help. There are many places where Daggat and I are looked at askance. Look at the fine young couple with us here and try to remember that you have spent hours now in the company of a furry beauty and the handsome man who holds her heart. In their own way, they are both very brave."

Yanna was next to Besha and leaned closer to her. She wrapped her hand around the woman's wrist and squeezed once, "Illya and I cannot hide what we are and what we do together, and while it may be said that I am a girl -- and I certainly am inside me, my husband still fucks with a large cat every night," Yanna said. "How many people can there be in the world who would not have done the same as you in a place where there was no one else for them? There certainly are none who would not have had the thought of it. It only happened that you loved each other so much that it likely had to be anyway."

"But that does not make it anyone's business but your own," Daggat offered. "You have each other again. If anyone asks where you met, say that you knew each other as children and tell nothing of what happened later." She smiled at them warmly. "It doesn't matter to me that you are sister and brother if I look at you." She nodded, "I still see a fine pair in love. Before you point to your scars, I will say that you are only farther on the road than the rest of us here."

"I wish that I had known you all when Sorn found me," Besha said very quietly, "For my part, I have my brother and we still love each other. I have blades again, clothes, and a fine horse. If we have even made some friends, then I cannot want for more."

"Besha," Smyrna called quietly across the fire-pit, "Illya is right. None here would tell what we know and it still might be better to keep this quiet, but if you wonder if you might have us as friends," she laughed a little, "look around you for your answer." The others nodded and Smyrna joked that they were all at least a little different and Besha cried a little as she smiled.

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Even before the city walls fell, many people walked or rode away. The city guard had no orders to stop anyone and only stood by. The exodus was quiet and orderly until a group of guardsmen tried to force a blockage of the main gateway by stupidly driving ahead into the sea of terrified people who were stuck there. Several people were trampled until the guards began to fall quietly and any guards who approached were found much later dead on the street as Shahbek and her killers plied their deadly trade in silence. A slim dagger through a joint in their leather and into the heart dropped a man more certainly than a sack of grain being set down and with less noise, other than at most, a shocked gasp from the victim.

Now and then, one of the brighter ones among the guard noticed as a comrade went down without a sound and a quick, searching look would reveal what had happened. But before those ones could raise a cry or even make a sound, they would fall themselves, speared through by the blades of a black-haired woman in a cape who seemed to move easily in the crowd.

A large man moved in the throng as well. He also wore a cape that hid his leather armor. Whenever the woman was faced with two attackers, he would slip into their way and the woman would move elsewhere, always looking for ones who saw what was happening, always seeking to protect the assassins. The man prevented her from losing time as she searched.

She looked back once out of curiosity, and as two assailants approached the man, he pushed them back into the open to give himself a little room. They might have been a little brighter than the rest, but not by much. They should have raised the alarm, but they didn't as they got to their feet and came at the stranger with looks on their faces which showed their foolish intent.

If they were only a little brighter, they'd have run.

The woman watched as her man waited for them to come, judging when he would begin and, seeing his opening in their confident swagger, he changed his grip to a two-handed one and clove the left attacker completely through from shoulder to hip in one stroke, and then he spun to take the second one's head. She smirked, wondering just how much strength he had, for she'd never seen his limits yet in all of the time that they'd been together.

He didn't stop to look at what he'd done. He had no need and worked as though he was cutting wood for the winter. He just looked for the next, and found two more near to him who had seen it all and now ran at him. The woman stood watching as she saw his long hair swing away from his face and from clear across the passageway, the priestess admired her warrior's smile as he worked.

The general stepped to the right one and snapped up his sword arm at full extension to the side. His bracer caught his assailant long before his stroke really got anywhere and broke his nose, driving the cartilage toward the brain. Turning left, he was ready as the second one arrived. He stepped inside the man's stroke, wrapped three fingers of his sword hand, still with the sword, around the man's head to smash his face against the studded leather of his own left shoulder. Twisting, he drove his left fist into the first one's jaw, since he was standing there about to fall backward. Both went down like dead trees. It happened in less time than it takes for the average person to sneeze. Two strokes of the sword finished it and he moved on.

The black-haired woman thought back to their first meeting and how she'd seethed in her hatred of him, completely out of hand. She remembered how he'd patiently tamed her even before they'd given themselves to each other. It had surprised her then how little he'd feared her, even though he knew that there was something in her to fear, and there would be far more once he'd given her the means to ascend as the High Priestess of a deadly cult.

In the time that they'd been together, she'd learned much about him and seriously doubted that there was any fear in him at all. She knew that he'd been a fighter without hope for long years before and she wondered a little if this was how he could do the things that he did, fight the way that he did, laying down one foe after another, not for that purpose so much as the desire to move forward and be done.

She thought about that now as she looked for where else she might be needed, and realized that it was past time that they showed each other again how they felt.

Even here, in the middle of a bloody street as she helped, or killed guards, or even guided frightened people to the broken gates so that they could leave, it made her smile for another ability that he had.

She felt her swollen lips rub together a little inside her armor as she walked and wanted to laugh.

Even here, in the middle of the death and the chaos in the fall of a city, she was wet for him.

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The moon was full over the river as two people bathed and then walked to the rear of a large tent in the shadows of a sea of tents. One of them lifted the bottom edge and they slipped inside together.

A sentry was left with instructions to wake the pair if certain events occurred and the two found themselves bathed in the light of a pair of oil lamps.

"Has it been a good day, warrior?" the woman smiled, "I think that we come to the end of another part of the plan."

Yes," he nodded, "the king is dead, the city is a breath away from being won, and needs only slow king Enmerkar to claim it. Even now, the foul city guard are being hunted, and even if Enmerkar chooses to lose his little mind and think to attack us here he only dooms himself. I could not have played my part without you, Priestess."

She sat down next to where he lay and began to run her hands over his body. "Well all of that is good," she said softly, "we have been so busy both together and apart, that there is one part of our lives that has gone wanting."

"Aye," he nodded as he smiled and caressed one of her breasts. "But it was just as I said that it would be when we planned this. I told you that there would not be much time for it as both of us had to seem to be in different places at once, often even at night."

"Have we some time for ourselves now then?" she smiled as her voice grew softer.

"Are you hopeful now, Beauty? I can make time for you until the morning."

"I am always hopeful for many things, Warrior. It is a large part of being a priestess. To lie with my fighter," she said with a sigh as she leaned to kiss his lips, "I make time gladly."

They still spoke quietly to each other after she'd straddled him. Nisi-ini-su groaned quietly as she ran her wet sex along the length of his shaft so slowly that he wondered if she moved at all. He listened to her soft sighs as she worked them both so subtly. It seemed to take forever and Lugalbanda loved her for it.

"I would have thought, "he whispered, "that a pair such as we are would love much harder the first time since we have had no time in the last week for it."

She raised her hands and he could see that she prayed, but she still had enough attention to speak slowly to him as she went.

"The only thing that I begrudge is the timing, my friend, and that only a little. We can do it any way that you like, but this -- right here, right now, "she sighed.

"As we have done for the past two months, this is where I pray that we are making what we wish to make between us. I am praying, and we are loving for a son."

She raised herself up and moved him a little so that they could join and after their groans as he entered her, she asked him to join her mind in the one place where it was possible to pray, converse, and make love together. His hands began to move in patterns which matched hers. To anyone who might have seen them, they were not moving at all, or at most, only a tiny amount now and then, but on the inside, this was one of their favorite ways to please each other. The hard loving would come to them in an hour or so. This was their way to begin it, a long and almost silent beginning, punctuated by her soft sighs.

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They'd let the fire burn low. Sorn and Besha had already begun their quiet and tentative renewal in each other's arms. Now and then, a soft cry or gasp came to everyone's ears from their tent.

"My heart feels for them," Daggat said in a half-whisper, "so long apart and with so little, I hope now that they can have what they wanted long ago. Surely everyone deserves a little happiness."

There was a louder cry and Smyrna grinned. "I almost wish that I could see them, "she said, "Their people are famous for loving well."

She noticed the looks from her companions. "It is true," she smiled; "they are assassins of the highest kind. They make us look like fools next to them. I am sure that Besha and her man did not learn it as part of any training because they were so young then, but they must be familiar with the importance of knowing it. He must have learned as he taught himself, for he is well-known for his killing ability and that is very often done with a kiss at the same moment. Sometimes it is all in getting close to the one that you would kill. The best way to do that is to get into bed with them. Besha has learned her own lessons if she was a whore at some time as you have heard. We could all likely take lessons from them there as well."

She looked at Illya, "And the work is the work, no matter what. If the target happens to like loving the same sex, well, that is another thing that must be learned, that is all."

Yanna and Illya wished the others a good night and went to their tent.

"No lamp tonight, husband. I want it dark tonight." she warned him, "I love to talk quietly in your arms."

After some minutes, she pulled his hand lower down on her belly. "Use your fingers for a little while."

He nodded and they whispered to each other. "I think that I am making a friend in Besha," she said, "I like her very much and we seem to have things in common." She kissed her husbands' ear and licked there a little as she purred softly. "She seems to know just when I need her soft comments and it is a little like she is as a guide to me."

"I think that they both hold so much wisdom," Illya sighed as she stroked him, "I felt like a boy next to Sorn, but I listen to what he tells me and I learned much from him today. If it is like that for you with Besha, then I am glad."

"We were admiring both of you in the pool there," Yanna smiled in the darkness, "As we walked away, Besha and I agreed that we are among the luckiest of women to have men like you." She sighed, "It is a little strange to me, Illya. I had many friends in Khamazi, but I have never known one like her."

"I know only a little of their people," he said, "but I know that they live their lives a little closer to the magic than many of us. They tie it to their lives, their loves, how they love and how they fight. It must make things a little complicated -- at least for one as simple as me."

"You are not simple," she breathed into his ear before she licked it just to feel him shiver for a moment, "Shahbek says that you are as Sorn was. Besha told me that you are just as Sorn was in your body and that you will look like him in your body later. My luck grows every day."

Yanna kissed him for many minutes until she rolled off her husband onto her side. "Do you want me, Illya?" she asked as she raised her leg. She didn't wait for his answer. "Come here." He raised his body to get over her knee and they slid together.

"You are very wet," he said in a little surprise as they began.

"I know it," she sighed, "I have been thinking of you naked in the pool. It was good to see. I like it when I can see you with no clothes on your fine body." They went on for a little while very slowly.

She chuckled, "I wanted to go to you in the pool there and help you. I would have too, but for the others."

Illya was confused, "I needed help?"

"Yes," Yanna breathed into his ear, "You saw me and after that you were trying to stay in the water that was over your hips, remember?"

He groaned at the memory. "Was it that easily seen?"

She chuckled for a moment and then groaned in her pleasure. "I am your wife. I know it when my husband is beginning to swell and you were, Illya. I don't know if Besha noticed, but I am at least a little sure that Sorn saw it. I wanted to go to you and kiss you so that you would harden and then I wanted to surprise you."

"What would you have done, Yanna?"

She smiled and kissed him for a moment, enjoying the thoughts in her mind. "I would have knelt right there in the water and sucked." She giggled and kissed him a little more.

"It is no little thing if you remember what I am. I will swim if I must, and bathe to stay clean, but stay in water? Kneel in it? Pht! Not me," she chuckled.

"I wish that we were here alone now, "he said, "We could have done it standing up with no flies driving us mad."

"I want to do that soon," she whispered with a little grunt as she shifted her position slightly, "not yet, but soon. We only have to find a way to keep Sorn and Besha from seeing us. Smyrna and Daggat will not be here, remember? Do you want me there in the sunshine?"

Sorn and Besha will likely be busy themselves," Illya sighed, "They have been apart for so long. I know what I would want to do then."

Yanna's movements were getting just a little more urgent. "You have not answered me, husband," she said, "now tell it to me true. Do you want me there in the sunshine?"

Illya gave up the fight when he felt her fingers and claws slide along his flanks.

"Yes!" he hissed in her ear, and they began to fuck furiously.

As they rolled apart minutes later, she rolled back onto her side and he felt her hand slide up his chest before she touched his cheek. "You are the finest man that I could ever imagine."

She pulled herself onto him and began to lick his nipple the way that she'd found made him squirm helplessly under her.

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In the soft light of the morning, Yanna woke and had to urinate. She stepped out of the tent and looked around as she ran her fingers down the stiff and matted fur on her belly and decided that, cold morning or not, she wanted a bath to wash Illya's semen away for another day, but first. ...

As she squatted there in the grass, she saw the flap of the other tent lift up and Besha wandered out, looking obviously well-loved, and beautifully wanton, if not anywhere near awake. To Yanna's surprise, Besha walked closer, looking only at the ground before her.

"Besha," Yanna hissed quietly.

The woman looked up suddenly, "Yanna!"

"I had to say something, Besha. You looked as though you would have sat on me to pee otherwise."

Besha shrugged, "I guess that I might have at that." She wished Yanna a good morning, and to Yanna's surprise, Besha squatted before her and let go. Yanna found herself looking right at Besha making water not more than four feet away.

"I suppose that I should be more demure here, but I really need to do this now. Please pardon me."

They grinned a little out of embarrassment as they watched each other. "I feel like we are two young girls here," Yanna said quietly.

It made Besha chuckle, "I only wish that I was a young girl once more, but instead, I am just an old woman."

"You are not old," Yanna said, "I think that you are lovely."

It almost made the older woman snort, but she knew that Yanna thought well of her. "Thank you, Yanna, but I am likely old enough to be your mother. I have many scars on me from being whipped." She looked down and smirked, "I didn't see the benefit when I was young, but I am only glad now that my tits were always small. Without that, they'd hang on me now."

They walked to the pool under the little waterfall together. "Besha," Yanna said quietly, "please listen to me. I know that I am young to you and like many young people, I must seem to you as though I know little or nothing. I try my best not to feel too stupid near you. I like to watch you and learn from you. I am sad at how you were treated, but I want to say that the tattoos that you have are wondrous to me and I could sit all the day to look at them. They seem to move on you and it catches my eye and then I am fascinated, but then I am a cat and easily fascinated," she shrugged with a grin.

"If it is not too close to you, why were you whipped?"

Besha shrugged, "I was whipped by different people at different times, depending on who owned me. It might have been for something that I did or didn't do, but it was not more than a few strokes and it was never hard, so there were really no scars from that. Almost all of the scars on me were from a Sumerian woman who owned me. She liked the love of anyone, but she liked it with women the best. If she had no other lover, then it was me."

She rolled her eyes, "It was me most often. She hated me because I had to let her do what she wanted with me, but I was always impassive. I never liked letting her have me because I had no choice in it. Even if it felt a little nice, I never let her see it."