Empress by Karen Miller

Author:Karen Miller [Miller, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Epic, Fiction, Fantasy, General, Science Fiction, Magic, Fantasy Fiction, Slaves
ISBN: 9780316008358
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2007-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

One finger before newsun Vortka woke in his small, solitary chamber to the tolling of the godhouse bell and a hand on his shoulder.

“It is time, novice,” said Brikin novice-master. Salakij was two seasons dead, Brikin had been chosen his successor. Vortka hardly knew him, the last two seasons of his novitiate had been spent away from Et-Raklion and the godhouse. It was strange to be back within its stark stone walls after so long worshipping under the sun. Strange to think that not far away, his son was sleeping.

Don’t think of Zandakar. He is not your son, Vortka. Best to think of him as dead.

Except that was impossible. The previous highsun, toiling up the Pinnacle Road to the godhouse, threading his way between the other travelers, as he passed the palace he felt his heart tug him sideways, urge him to leave the road, abandon duty and obedience, make up a reason to visit Hekat and their child. He had resisted. He was a novice at the testing time, what hope for him if he could not resist this temptation?

Then, in the godhouse, he had seen his small son Zandakar, giggling, chattering, lit up with excitement because Hekat would soon be home from war. His wayward heart had nearly stopped altogether, seeing that small boy, hearing Nagarak speak his name. Aieee, how tall and strong he was, how much he looked like his mother. A handful of times had he seen the child since his birth, each greedy glance pain and pleasure combined. And with every glance a vivid memory, how Zandakar was made, that plunging ecstasy, that exquisite throbbing of the flesh. Hekat hot upon him, her eyes filled with the god. He missed her too, though he tried hard to forget.

In the end it was a relief to be sent away for service.

“Vortka!” said Brikin, and shook him less gently. “Are you listening? You must go at once to the godpool. Would you keep the high godspeaker waiting?”

No! No, he would not. He sat up, wincing, his flesh smarting, sore from the previous day’s severe tasking. It was the custom, he had known what he faced when the summons came from the godhouse. His testing was upon him, he must face the god and show it his heart, first in the godhouse and then in the wilderness. But before that he must kneel on the floor of the cold tasking chamber and shout his contrition with every blow of the cane. It was the same for all novices about to be tested. He could not complain.

“The god see you, novice,” said Brikin, and stepped back. He had younger novices to chivvy, his task here was done. “If it pleases, we will meet again.”

“If it pleases,” Vortka echoed, as the door closed behind the novice-master. Moving cautiously, he eased himself off his sleep-mat, pulled on his robe, then left the chamber. At the first privy alcove he emptied his bladder. Like every godspeaker in the godhouse he’d long ago learned to discipline his body, make it wait to pish till after newsun sacrifice.

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