Cáel Defeats The Illuminati: Part 14
Guardian Goddess in Manhattan.
Book 3 in 18 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.
"Our Princess grew up around a woman whose keen intellect we rely on to protect us from unseen enemies," Saint Marie's voice became deeper and more threatening. "At the age of ten, she," Saint Marie looked my way as my hand shot up mimicking Aya's identical plea for attention.
"Yes Ishara?" Saint Marie chose to acknowledge me.
"She's nine."
"Fine. At the age of nine, she earned an honorific, Mamētu me eda, which I didn't accomplish until my 19th year." 'Yes Ladies, I'm an epic bad-ass and I've been out-performed by a child'.
"She was kidnapped along with the Head of House Ishara. They tortured her by clipping off two of her digits, one at a time, then seared the damage with a blowtorch. She gave them nothing. At the end of the encounter, the two of them managed to defeat thirty Seven Pillar's commandos, over fifteen she disabled personally."
"After killing nearly half as many enemies as the 35 I have personally dispatched in my entire career, she crossed a mile and a half of barren rock in the midst of a Category 4 Typhoon. Cáel Ishara only helped her half of the way because he was engaged with the last two members of the Seven Pillar's team."
"I have utter confidence the madness here today, while assisted by House Epona and Ishara, was the brainchild of Krasimira. I say 'assisted' because Cáel Ishara spared Kwenhamai's life on the battlefield. Katrina Epona removed Kwenhamai from Romanian custody to keep her out of the hands of those who wished us harm. I was aware Kwenhamai was in New York, but not her precise location."
"My read on the situation is this:
"Aya of Kururiyahhssi was aware of Kwenhamai and Krasimira's plot to adopt her into the bloodline of the first Amazon."
"She was not aware of Kwenhamai's plan to exit the Host in the manner she chose. I read the shock and pain in, Aya's face."
"Our Princess has not given me a single order and I am the only voice here today that matters, I am the Golden Mare and the Council has consistently failed to agree on a Regency."
"Krasimira, why have you done this?" Saint Marie abruptly asked for either a denial, or acquiescence of her perception of events.
"As directed by the Ancestors, the statute of a goddess of a First House was recast then returned to her perpetual spot. It brought new light to a dark, sacred and painful place. In that moment I realized that for the first time in nearly 3,200 years, the descendants of every Amazon gathered before the walls of Wilusa (Troy) had been reunited."
"I was troubled. Was this a portent the augurs couldn't divine? In their council (the augurs) then came up with the words 'speak to our eldest'."
Oh shit, the rest of the Council was racking their minds trying to figure who was the oldest surviving Amazon. I knew for a fact they were overlooking the two top candidates.
"I sought out the eldest Amazon alive. They claimed to not have the answer for my worries. She had far more numerous things weighing on her mind such as her intimate demise. Though I hated sharing the same air with her, I asked her to tell me her greatest regret."
"I had given up on the Amazon Race until an Amazon reminded me, through martial effort, valiant spirit and a kind heart, I was wrong to abandon my faith with my people. Now I will die, unable to pass on my renewed hope because the one Amazon I would trust with my legacy is equally childless."
"I asked her the name of this Amazon she felt was worthy of her legacy. Then I informed her she was wrong and the Amazon in question did indeed have a daughter. She asked to meet the daughter,"
"Last night I requested the presence of a female child residing with members of House Epona," the Keeper of Records looked up at the Golden Mare. "I provided neither the resident female (Caitlyn, Aya's Mother), or the House Head with an explanation."
Female child
Since my revival, Amazons were using 'female' child a lot more often. This meant, the motheer had never told her daughter farewell. The true fate of Aya of Epona would never officially be recorded. She has been born, but never recorded as an Amazon of her true House.
"The three of us met alone. The two embraced; birth mother and daughter. The eldest of us proclaimed she saw the light of Kururiyahhssi in her daughter's eyes. Words were exchanged. The child agreed to be adopted then departed. Further arrangements were made without the child's knowledge as we have recently observed."
"I testify that there is only one Amazon alive today who knows what transpired and I will take those conversations to my grave. Does that suffice?" Krasimira finished. I was already regurgitating my mental quandary with my Isharans. Was Aya really a daughter of Kururiyahhssi?
"I will leave it to the others to contemplate your, bizarre actions, Krasimira," Saint Marie frowned. "As for the rest of you, Aya has impressed me. If she has not impressed you, I do not care. I think she is definitely influenced by those two," Saint Marie motioned to Katrina and me. "It is a given since Katrina was of her blood and she has risked much in the presence of a man she calls 'Atta' and he calls 'Duma'."
"Katrina is a cold, heartless snake and I am convinced she is one of the best 'First Bearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night and Death' the Host been served by in a long, long time.” Saint Marie paused then looked at me while she said; “ Cáel is a fool who leads with his heart when he should let better women take charge. Fortunately for the rest of us, he is reliably successful despite his multitude of handicaps."
Was I upset about being insulted? No. The truth hurts and a Man needs to learn to roll with the punches. Buffy I could deal with. Katrina most likely appreciated being associated with a dangerous reptile. Saint Marie hadn't forgotten Katrina threating Saint Marie's daughter that was for sure.
"I am considering much of what our Princess would like me/us to do, because it is based in keen insight and well-reasoned thought. She wishes to spare our sons so we will have more warriors in the fight. We have already added men to Havenstone and one to the Council, as was the Will of the Ancestors."
"Let me see, she wishes a bodyguard of fourteen (2 First House and 1 from Africa, Asia, Europe and North & South America, the Amazon presence in Australia was minimal and I doubted they would bring someone up from Antarctica, plus the seven matching Runners) without removing permanent members of any House and allowing all Houses to have access to our future Queen. I approve. It is a fine idea and I wish I had thought of it."
"Should we add Runners directly into the Royal House? She doesn't think so and I feel this decision shows a remarkably insightful into the long history of our People and protects the Council's sensitivity on such matters. I approve."
"Placing our sons into the care of the Royal House? We need to free up as many sisters as possible. Men under the care of the Royal House will be tradesmen and help-mates. Not a single weapon will be in their hands. If none of you have realized herlike will take two decades to implement, it only increases my eagerness to see her become 'casted'."
Aya's hand shot up again.
Yes?"
"I would hope the Council, or the Regents, will consider a 'like' which is not mine. It is a man's and it should be of no surprise the idea is Cáel’s."
"If you feel it holds merit, Aya, tell us," Saint Marie deferred.
"The 9 Clans have shown some interest in a children exchange programs among our youth as it would provide new techniques we can add to our arsenal an a new avenue to experiment with new ideas. I find the idea to be promising as the Host takes part in affairs beyond our own immediate needs. It would also supply partners between families to be shared for a season or two."
Translation: Amazon women could breed with men of allied Secret Societies to reduce our dependence on our own, much smaller, male population. In the short term, it would go a long way to rectifying the Host's child-bearing problems.
The Council's quarrelsome behavior was biting them in the ass big time. Saint Marie was right, the only opinion that mattered was hers until the Council elected a Regency. Had we not been at war, the Council would have ruled, but we were, so we took orders from the Golden Mare. Even if the High Priestess had been alive, she would have deferred to our designated War Leader on most things.
"Cáel Ish, Cáel Wakko Ishara is a very dangerous and devious male, Aya. Be careful of any council he gives," Saint Marie's caution was more playful than menacing.
"I'll be okay," Aya peeped. "He doesn't have sex with any woman until she is eighteen." That wasn't what the Golden Mare was cautioning her about. We all knew it. Aya was working to defuse a sticky bit of mental juggling, listening to a man's advice.
"On that we can agree," Saint Marie conceded. "Back to what I would 'like' to say. The New Directive is being implemented. I feel it goes beyond the purview of my mandate. I will leave it for the Regency to deal with. Katrina and Tessa have already invested in the groundwork in this endeavor, so I will endorse it if that is the decision of the Regency."
"I have zero desire to add a single Runner to the Security Detail. I will open up slots in the training program if that is what the Regency demands. Each House's policy for dealing with the First Directive is their business, not mine. If any of you wish to consider something the Princess considers to be important, so be it. The idea of 1,000 Isharans does not appeal to me. Look how much trouble their tiny numbers have already caused us and take heed."
Buffy began growling, which amused/worried the Houses on either side of us. Unlike me, Buffy didn't 'roll with the blows' and considered all manner of insults to me, House Ishara and her Isharan sisters to be answerable with violence. I loved her so. There was also no way I'd let her go after Saint Marie. The Golden Mare would crush her; I had no doubt.
"The unwelcome blood feud: are both House Heads ignorant of my forbiddance of such things? Apparently so. Both defied me by tossing insults back and forth. Considering we are at war with two of the most powerful Secret factions, I am angered by both for their idiocy."
"The solution the Princess likes is rather novel," Saint Marie was punishing both Messina and me with her low voice and fiery gaze. Krasimira coughed.
"Yes?" Saint Marie suspended her anger.
"The suggested resolution is not without precedence," Krasimira spoke with a scholarly detachment. "In our early days, the Host settled such disputes in Spring and Fall gatherings by contests of foot speed, hunting, horsewomanship, archery and wrestling. If we revive the tradition, the competing Houses could nominate one woman for each contest to settle the matter. Only the hand-to-hand match would risk either contestant's health."
"I will consider it and render judgement before the Sun sets today," Saint Marie nodded. "The final like pleases me greatly. Dealing with the 52 of you is, Cáel?"
I was on the spot. I couldn't let down my fan base of one, Aya. Perhaps it was five, Buffy (who would never admit it), Daphne (who liked me), Katrina (because she liked fucking with my head) and Desiree (who was less likely to admit she found me funny than Buffy).
I felt I gave a decent effort.
"'A ginormous pain in my hemorrhoids?' the basic one."
"'More painful than having my cornea scrapped with a spoon?' more gruesome."
"'Enough to make me want to give Sakuniyas a surprise French kiss?' most likely to be fatal."
"'Worse than waking up to discover I'm related to Cáel Wakko Ishara?' most horrifying, for both of us."
"'Inspiring me to toss it all away and take up Professional Bikini Mud Wrestling?' a personal fantasy of mine."
"Why do we put up with him again?" one House Head remarked.
"Because I am worried that one," motioning to Buffy, "will stab me in the elevator after a meeting."
"My First, are you acting psychotic around the Council members?" I looked over my shoulder at Buffy.
"Wakko Ishara, it is not an act. I am psychotic," she responded deadpan.
"Are you still packing that thermite grenade?"
"No Wakko Ishara. Daphne stole it from me and hid it," was her quick delivery.
"I love working with you two," Daphne whispered.
"What is it with you, your unsubtle sexual innuendo and me in a bikini?" Saint Marie stared at me.
"I find the combination of brilliance and lethality sexy. Just ask Elsa," I grinned. Then I grimaced as Buffy stomped on my toes. The House Heads and Apprentices on either side of me noticed and clearly expected me to do something, like to show outrage (because she was my underling), or start crying (because I was a guy).
"Prestige," Daphne hissed quietly. "Prestige." She was reminding Buffy that beating me up in public made the other Amazons think even less of me than they already did.
"I will go with (B), the cornea scrapping," Saint Marie gave me a nod.
"Damn it," I muttered. I also got my foot out of the way before someone did any more damage to my phalanges.
'Best Daddy Ever,' Aya mouthed to me. Back to the main action.
"It is not my place to order the rest of you to elect Shawnee, Rhada and Buffy to be the Regency. I do admit I admire the mixture of candidates," Saint Marie declared. I shot Rhada a quick look. She seemed really, really enamored of the idea of being part of the Regency, thus staying in New York for the next decade, or so.
"Before the idea is rejected out of hand, I suggest we ask the three people our Princess would like to be part of the Regency if they would accept the nomination," the Golden Mare continued. "Shawnee Arinniti?"
"I bow to the logic and reason of the proposal," Shawnee replied.
"Rhada Meenakshi?"
"I wish to join my sisters in battle, yet I accept the reasoning behind the proposal," Rhada nodded. "If my Head of House agrees, I will stay and do my part for our People." What was she saying to me? 'You are going to whip me, beat me, torture me, humiliate me and push me to beyond the limits of any pain I have experienced until I pass out ~ repeatedly'.
"I despair of finding any other compromise," Mahdi frowned. "If my Apprentice understands the greater difficulty she will face gaining prestige among her House-mates, I will consent to this proposal." Essentially a 'yes'.
"Buffy Ishara?"
"I was really looking forward to ripping the spines out of still living foes, but I would be a fool to go against Aya of Kururiyahhssi's smarts. If Wakko Ishara wants to walk out of this room unassisted, he will see the wisdom of this decision as well," she gave me a shark's smile. Daphne had surpassed her limit and punched Buffy.
"Hell ya, I agree," I exclaimed. "Now I know there will be certain times of the day when she isn't stalking me."
"I'll work more pain into our limited schedule," Buffy grumbled.
"Are we sure he is the House Head and she is the Apprentice?" Yet another House Head joined the 'shit on me' train.
It was telling of our group dynamic how we accepted the Pyramid of Pain. The underlings dispensed advice and violence as they felt necessary without their 'superior' getting pissy about it. Buffy felt totally justified hitting me and accepted being hit by Daphne, who continued to act unimpeded as Buffy's rapid-fire translator.
"If I was House Head, I'd handcuff him to me," Buffy clarified for her.
"What she said," I pointed a thumb Buffy's way. I'd have used a finger, but she might have grabbed, twisted and made me scream in pain.
"Perhaps the Council can vote on this as their second order of business," Saint Marie cloaked her command as a suggestion.
"Cáel Wakko Ishara, can I ask you a personal question?" Kohar of Marda caught my attention.
"Shoot, wait, probably not the best terminology in this crowd. Ask away," I replied.
"Have you faced a House challenge yet?"
"Yes. Just last night in fact. We free-climbed the north-face of Havenstone. I beat the next closest contender by three floors. I also had Princess Aya on the roof dropping bricks on anyone who attempted to get past me."
"That means he isn't going to answer you," Beyoncé interpreted for my audience.
"Can't you ever take these meetings seriously?" Febe Mielikki glowered.
"La, Febe, in the past few minutes I have watched the person I love most in the world get her life shat on," I shook my head.
"The only thing worse than seeing this happen to Aya is knowing this is her sole opportunity to not lose her soul, so I'm sucking up my heart's pain and putting forward a jester's persona so I don't put any more pressure on her than she's already been subjected to. Like me, she doesn't want the distinction of being a Person of Note."
"Like me, she knows she must sacrifice her dreams for the sake of our People, the Amazon Host. Trust me, you would rather have 'me, the jester' than 'me, the Amazon' furious with the destiny that has foisted this pain on her'. Do any of you take responsibility for forcing the events of this morning?" I growled. If they wanted to see the other side of the Janus, so be it.
"Had you chosen a Regency in the fucking weeks you've been bickering, Kwenhamai could have been dealt with privately. The fate of the Royal House could have been put off a few years. Had you not all been so dead-set on being heroines of the Host, three of you would have sacrificed your bloodlust, your birthright and the future accolades you could recite on your final night (before taking themselves to the cliff), but none of you did."
"Instead, you set the stage for dumping all of your indecisiveness on the slender shoulders of a nine year old girl most of you had written off as too fractured and frail to survive her 12th year only three months ago. So Febe how do you like the honest 'me'?" I finished off furiously.
It was not lost on anyone in the chamber I was an Amazon raging against the cruelty of fate. Every other bitch in the room knew they had discarded my daughter's life as trivial and I was prepared to unleash violence on the next one to show an ounce of disrespect over Aya's surrendering of her destiny and my grief at failing to find a way to stop this from coming to pass. St Marie had just reminded them that I was 'reliably" successful despite my handicaps. Not an enemy anyone in the room wanted any part of. Saku would have been proud.
A Note:
I have been remiss in informing my readers of the names of the 53 Houses, even though I created it some time ago. I have made a few alterations to the original version as I've had to rethink certain parts of this tale, but here is the list I now use.
List of Goddesses:
The First Twenty Houses in no particular order :
1) Ishara, Oaths, Medicine and War (to North America) (died out 450 CE; Reborn in 2014)
2) (Deceased) Anat, Goddess of War, Fury and Blood Sacrifice (died out 6th cent. BCE) ~ possibly resurrected by Sakunyias
3) Anahit, water, wisdom and war (to North America)
4) Arinniti, Sun Goddess (to North America)
5) Hanwasuit, Sovereign Goddess
6) Illuyankamunus, Dragon God (to North America) (Special Case)
7) Inara, the Hunter Goddess
8) au ka, fertility, War, healing
9) Kamrusepa, Healing medicine magic (to Africa)
10) Lelwani, Goddess of the Underworld (to Africa)
11) Hapantali, Pastoral Goddess.
12) Hatepuna, Sea Goddess (to India)
13) Hannahannah, Mother Goddess
14) Moirai, Fate
15) Selardi, Lunar Goddess (to Africa)
16) Nammu, Primordial Sea, sailing, sailors (to India) (to Indonesia)
17) Uttu, Goddess of plants (to Africa)
18) Lahar, Cattle Goddess (to Africa)
19) Ereshkigal, Queen of the underworld (to India)
20) Istustaya and Papaya, Twin Goddesses of Destiny (to North America)
Additional Houses, founded in Europe:
(Code: Sc = Scythian; T = Thracian, P, Phrygian, C = Celtic, R = Roman, Sl = Slavic)
21) (Sc) Marda, the One-Eyed Goddess/Vengeance {fantasy creation}
22) (Sc) Farānak, A Scythian Goddess also known as the Lynx Goddess and the Silent Huntress (Dora)
23) (Sc) Stolgos, Monstrous Slayer of Greeks (known to the Greeks as the Gorgon Stheno) {semi-historical}
24) (T) Cotyttia, Thracian Goddess of Sex, War and Slaughter (to North America)
25) (T) Bendis, Thracian Goddess of the Moon and Hunting.
26) (T) Semele/Rajah, Thracian Goddess of the Earth and Birth (to India)
27) (T) Hylonome, Centaur Goddess
28) (P) Cybele, Phrygians Earth Goddess on Lion's throne (to the Amazon)
29) (C) Andraste, War Goddess; also Goddess of the Moon and Divination; 'the Rabbit Goddess'
30) (C) Epona, Horses (to North America)
31) (C) Cyhiraeth, Goddess of springs whose war cry precedes death (to Africa)
32) (C) Maeve, War Goddess, the Enslaver of Men
33) (Deceased) (C) Nantosuelta, Earth, Fire and Fertility (died out 1st cent. BCE)
34) (C) Artio, the Bear Goddess (to North America)
35) (C) Nemain, Goddess of War and Panic
36) (R) Minerva, Roman Goddess of War & Strategy
37) (Deceased) (R) Diana, Hunting and Archery (died out in India 16th cent. CE)
38) (Sl) iva, Love and Fertility
49) (Sl) Morė, Goddess of harvest, witchcraft, winter and death (to North America)
40) (Sl) Zorja, The twin Guardians (Evening/Morning Stars)
41) (Sl) Oźwiena, fame and glory (died out in 1944)
42) (Sl) Koliada, Sky Goddess and deity of sunrises/dawn (died out 17th cent CE)
43) (F) Mielikki, Goddess of the Hunt
44) (N) Ska i, giantess, Goddess of bow-hunting, skiing, winter, and mountains
Additional Houses, founded in In dia:
45) (I) Mookambika, Demon Slayers
46) (I) Bhadra, Goddess of the Hunt (to Indonesia)
47) (I) Meenakshi, The Liberator (Rhada and Madi's House)
48) (I) Durga (Dark Mother) (to Indonesia)
49) (I) Chandala Bhikshuki, Queen of Night, Death, Destruction and Rebirth
50) (I) Jaya (Goddess of Victory)
51) (I) Chelamma, the Scorpion Queen (died out 16th cent.)
Additional Houses, founded in Africa:
52) (A) Oshun, (Yoruba Goddess of Love, Sexuality, Beauty and Diplomacy; Lady of the Orisha ~ life spirits)
53) (A) Yemonja, Mother of Rivers (to the Amazon)
54) (A) Oba, Goddess of Betrayal and Exile
55) (A) Ox ssi, Goddess of Hunting, Forests, Animals and Wealth
56) (A) Jengu, Goddess of Jungles and Water Spirits
Additional Houses: founded in North America
(NT = Native Tribal)
57) (NT) Uusheenhiton (noo'uusooo' heeninouhuusei hitoniho') (Arapaho), Storm Horse Sister {fantasy creation}
58) (NT) Gahe, Apache (supernatural spirits who live in the mountains)
Prospective House:
59) New, (Hittite) SzelAnya, the Dragon's Daughter
Current Number of Central Houses:
12 in North America (9+Ishara from Europe and 2 native)
10 in Africa (6 from Europe and 5 native)
3 in Amazonia (1 from Africa and 2 from Europe)
8 in India (3 from Europe and 7 native)
3 in Indonesia (2 from India and 1 from Europe)
17 in Europe
6 Deceased
{7:35 am Sunday, September 7th ~ Last day}
Right where we left off
My rage over Aya wasn't called into question or challenged. Practicality had trumped tradition in the inevitable Amazon fashion. The only one elevated in anyone's eyes was Aya. Krasimira's apparent political adventurism was probably hard for the others to deal with. But in context, only Mahdi, Katrina and Saint Marie had seen her denounce Hayden, so this seemed a new side of Krasimira to most people in the room.
Krasimira wasn't the spiritual authority, that was Hayden. She wasn't the Generalissimo, that was Saint Marie. Katrina and I were both appointed officials, we retained our House status. Saint Marie would die a member of House Inara and join her ancestors with pride. Her litany of accomplishments were well known to the Host.
But Krasimira? She would die a member of House Cybele unheralded. The Keeper of Records recorded the feats of others, not their own. Nearly two generations ago, a young Krasimira had joined the Keeper's House as a guardian to an un-remembered (save by her) augur. The augur passed and she took up other duties within the house.
When the old Keeper faced her final months, she elevated Krasimira to her spot. High Priestess Hayden had approved the choice without really knowing who Krasimira was. (No one outside the House of the Keeper had personal bonds with her anymore.) Seamlessly, she had sat in the old Keeper's seat and the Council kept chugging along.
For the past eight years, she had sat quietly at Hayden's side and only speaking when addressed. Mostly, she did nothing overt. The actual note-taking was done by an underling. The Keeper took her own private notes squirreled away in her mind, to be written when she was by herself. Those notes would be handed over to her successor, for the Keepers' eyes and theirs alone.
I don't think Krasimira knew me in particular when she dutifully followed Hayden into these chambers the day my death, or life in a cage, was bantered about. It was the day we first crossed paths. She would have known of Shawnee's request for the tooth of an Isharan, though she lacked the authority to ask why. (She wasn't a voting member of the Council.)
But when Shawnee made her claim, Krasimira hadn't balked in her support, despite the oddity of Shawnee's declarations, I was indeed Ishara and my sisters could not dispose of me. The outrage of the others meant nothing to her. She pursued her obligations with true Amazon fearlessness both inside and outside of the Council.
On the night of the 2nd Betrayal, a Keeper had sat there in silence as her fellow Amazons, the Ash Men, were sentenced to an unjust death. She'd had neither the numbers nor the authority to alter events, what else could she have done?
So the Keepers kept track of the names of nineteen 'unaccounted for' Ash Men. For what purpose? An episode of Amazon history no one would ever want to revisit? Yet in my hour of need, coming back 2,600 years was the name 'Vranus of Ishara', sitting only a few keystrokes away. No one, save a few Arinniti diehards, wanted to know the truth of the Amazon Ash Men; and even they didn't want to remember us as individuals. To them, Vranus existed as a notation on the secret Charter of the Arinniti Sons.
To Krasimira, Vranus had been a living, breathing warrior of the Host, not even dead, still mythically fighting the enemies of our race because his death had never been officially recorded. With my appearance, I stood in mute testimony to his death, and that of his sons and their sons for a damn long time.
Still, I hated playing catch-up.
With the Amazon custom of adoption, had no one asked if another possible Isharan heritage still persisted?
I would bet they had. And I'd bet they had sought for that knowledge in the Rolls of the Host, always finding that pathway devoid of hope. But if the Keeper had known, why had she kept quiet?
Pride, shame, Krasimira's words: we show anger when we should show humility. We are proud of our shame. We are arrogant of our weaknesses. We have heaped insult upon insult on our ancestors, yet are now aghast that they turn away from us, I had confused her soliloquy with that of an accusation, not the long held understanding of her office.
Even staring extinction in face, the modern Host hadn't truly accepted the answer, the line of Vranus. Faced with the truth, the Amazons would have 'forgotten' the descendants of Vranus all those centuries ago in the same way they 'forgot' all the other Ash Men on the day I was brought into the Host.
But the Keepers did something more than maintain the rolls and records of the Amazons, more than watch over the augurs and make sure their messages made it to the proper ears. They safeguarded the truth. No matter what the Council decided and the High Priestess commanded, the Keepers remained honest stewards of the real history of the Amazons.
Why?
The Amazons were terribly practical and the truth could run contrary to the needs of political reality. Honesty wasn't a highly stressed Amazon virtue, loyalty was. So was bravery. And thus generation after generation of Keepers had lied to the Council and the High Priestesses. Every time those august personages had committed something to 'the nothingness', the Keepers had defied them and not forgotten.
The first heads of the first twenty houses had surrendered their names for the unity of their people, but the Keepers remembered. All twenty of those women had been of the Amazon tribe of the Pala people living on the southern coast of the Black Sea when the Trojan Wars began. Over time, their true blood descendants had founded new houses and been adopted into others.
Aya was truly a daughter of Kururiyahhssi; I had no doubt of that anymore. Had she not shared the same blood as the first Amazon, Krasimira wouldn't have brought Aya and Kwen together. Resurrecting an ancient tradition in a complicated fallacious coup attempt wasn't in her; nor was such a maneuver even a necessity. The Host would elect a Regency eventually and Saint Marie was handling the war in a highly competent fashion.
So Krasimira hadn't sought out the heirs of Vranus, yet when one appeared, she welcomed 'him'. And when she stepped into the President's office with Hayden while waiting for me to be brought upstairs to face judgement that night, I imagined sending Hayden to the cliffs was the farthest thing from her mind.
The rest were playing politics, gender politics, and couldn't see the truth staring Krasimira in the face. The truth was a bitch and didn't play favorites, or worry about the sensibilities of others. Krasimira had seen her sisters refusing to acknowledge the ugly reality they had created for themselves.
Krasimira wasn't an advocate for Ishara, that was my job, and my crappy performance was something between Dot and me. She wasn't an advocate for the males and the New Directive. That was what Katrina was for. No, like a hundred Keepers before her, Krasimira was the silent sentinel for the Truth and, the Truth didn't care about anything but the Truth.
"The assassin is indeed in this room. Its name is Amazon was a rather grand pronouncement from the Chief Librarian, wasn't it? Krasimira didn't chastise Hayden. That wasn't her place. Technically, neither was she disputing Hayden's ability to rule.
This wasn't the climax of a dinner-theater 'Who Done It'. The crime before the High Priestess was High Treason and I was the pre-ordained guilty party. My 'ally', Katrina Epona, had not been an advocate for my defense. No. Again in my Hour of Need it was Krasimira.
Lacking any true authority, she had defied her sisters and made her definitive statement. What truly transpired was Krasimira staring Hayden straight in the eyes and saying 'you cannot lie your way out of this one, High Priestess. We (as in all the Keepers past and present) will not let you'.
Had she used those words, Saint Marie would have gotten around to asking what Krasimira meant. Krasimira would have rather died, because once those bitches discovered their nerdy sisters hadn't erased a damn thing in 3,000 years, they would insist they do so immediately. Krasimira wasn't about to do that. Thanks to the chaos surrounding Hayden's departure, no one had confronted her over her crucial action.
To put it more precisely, the Golden Mare had been too busy and Mahdi had been wrapped up in Hayden's Decree and the resulting pressure on the Heads of House to pick the Regency. Katrina was probably a case of I'm not going to ask you so you don't have to lie to me. The only other living person in the room when Hayden's fate was sealed was me, and I'd had my hands full as well.
I had to think about what I should and could do. I couldn't beat her up over Aya anymore than I could punish my Isharans for their misplaced arrogance. I decided to extend a 'thank you'; and not only for myself, but for every conceited bitch who had ever sat at this table, or all the other physical mediums the Council had used before this one.
We held three votes: The Council couldn't collectively decide on how to implement Aya's other likes (1), so they agreed on her suggestion for a Regency instead (2). The final vote was to set a date for the next Council meeting (3). A date within 9 days of the Winter Solstice with the Regency to decide the precise date and give the House Heads two weeks warning.
The last calamity at the meeting was initiated by a question of etiquette.
"How do we address the Princess at Council meetings?" the Head of House Hanwasuit inquired of Krasimira.
"There is no precedent for addressing the Iwaruwa alone. By our laws, she is not truly Dumalugal Aya either. She is Nasusara," Krasimira responded. Queen.
"She is a child," a third House Head declared, "not an Amazon."
"No," Mahdi shook her head. "A, Aya is 'un-casted'. She bears an honorific presented to her by the leader of an established stronghold (Summer Camp) and confirmed by the Golden Mare minutes ago."
"Congratulations my mamētu me eda," I winked to my past and present Princess, "you've just become a single-digit aged teenager."
"Go Aya," Daphne and Buffy whispered behind me. Aya raised her hand, waiting for Saint Marie's recognition.
However, Saint Marie moved steadily forward, declaring: "Until the Regency alters my decision, I decline assigning anyone to the Iwaruwa (heiress) whose sole purpose would be to stop her from sneaking off to endure her 12th Year Test. I judge it to be better we know where we placed her as opposed to failing to outsmart her as she needlessly proves to the Host she is, in fact, already an Amazon of the Host." Aya lowered her hand.
Thus,
'Yes, Aya is an Amazon of the Host' and 'Aya will take her 12th Year Test because she wants to take it, won't let us talk her out of taking it and the rest of us had better accept it'.
"So, she is our Queen then?"
No one appeared to have an answer. Aya raised her hand once more.
"Yes?" the Golden Mare smiled down at her.
"Am I in charge?" Aya's other hand squeezed Saint Marie's as she spoke in a barely audible voice.
"Perhaps."
"If I was in charge, I would like it if there was a law that declared the Queen of the Amazons would be officially represented by a Regency until she becomes casted, and antedate the law by one hour so this never, ever comes up again," Aya kept looking up at Saint Marie.
"Aya," Katrina exhaled.
The council chamber was a mixture of awe, resentment and amusement. If Aya was Queen, she could make such a law. The Queen-ship was a Bronze Age autocratic institution designed to provide leadership to a 'state' in near-constant warfare with is neighbors.
It was guided by oral traditions and military necessity, not written laws. As long as the queens provided successes on the battlefield and through diplomacy, she was deemed fit to rule. The traditional way of choosing a House Head was the same for the Royal House, the ruling Queen chose an heir.
In the long list of Queens, less than half had been the 'eldest' child. No, those ancient War Leaders picked the bravest, smartest and most successful daughters to succeed them. Their wisdom in those selections showed in the fact the Amazons had held off a male-dominated world for over 600 years before fatally marching off to answer an ally's call to fight in the Trojan War.
"I advise against it," Saint Marie shook her head. "You are young. You are also the only Royal we have. Duty demands and sisters must always answer their sister's call."
Translation: Aya was an adult now. It was similar to the first lesson Pamela gave me upon learning I was Ishara. We lived with bitches, it doesn't pay to play nice with bitches.
"Thank you," Aya nodded. She was 'thanking' Saint Marie for the lesson, no matter how hard it was to accept. Krasimira coughed.
"Now that the matter is settled," she spoke. The matter wasn't settled. Krasimira was steamrollering the discussion. "What do we call you?", to Aya.
"I, oh," in a very small voice. Aya's brow furrowed and her tiny nose wiggled. "I wish to be known by the legacy of my Anna (mother) and Atta (me, Cáel). I will be Assiyai hamai."
"Love song?" Daphne murmured to Buffy.
"Assiyai hamai?" Krasimira asked for clarification. 'Love-song' was hardly the name of a 'fierce' Amazon Queen.
"The only other name I could come up with was Markappidusmene, which seemed less auspicious," she meeped. Markappidusmene meant 'Tiny Smile'.
"Perhaps Talliyahulla would be more auspicious?" Saint Marie nudged Aya. 'War Cry'.
"Oh no!" Aya balked. "That's your job."
"What do you think your job is?" the Golden Mare questioned, suddenly realizing she'd made the mistake of making assumptions where Aya was concerned.
"To go to the cliffs with twice as many Amazon daughters, each equal to the likes of Saint Marie, Katrina, Oneida, Buffy, Elsa, Kohar and Tad fi as exist today. We must not 'survive', or simply replenish our numbers.
"We must become stronger because the World is a terribly messed up place," she raised her wounded hand and splayed her digits for the others to see the two she was missing, "and has become too small for us to seek safety in hidden freeholds any longer. If we cannot hide, we must rule openly. We are Amazons. Having no equals, we must rule alone. The only people we can trust, really trust, are the sisters at our sides.
"My job is to advance my People's cause with both compassion and cruelty and I will do so alone, because the Amazon Queen has no equals, only daughters."
Not a sound. I could count out the individual fan blades recycling the air.
"Let our enemies tremble," Saint Marie nodded, repeating an earlier declaration.
"Assiyai hamai," Krasimira intoned, making Aya's royal name official before adding, "Assiyai hamai, you are mistaken about one thing. You are not alone. You have a mamētu me eda."
"Oh," she perked up, shedding the gloom which surrounded her. She looked at me, our eyes met and we both grinned, then she giggled...and yet again, up her hand went.
"Yes?" Saint Marie looked upon Aya respectfully and then at me with much suspicion.
"Is the mamētu me eda of my mamētu me eda also my mamētu me eda?" Aya asked.
Just like old times, only Katrina was ahead of the game. "Oh, by Epona," the Spy-mistress snorted.
"Cáel Wakko Ishara, who is your mamētu me eda, oh no," Saint Marie bristled.
"Ah, indeed," Krasimira nodded. "An unlooked for bonus."
"Does someone care to enlighten the rest of us?" the head of House Nemain prodded.
"Oh!" That was Elsa.
"That's right!" Oneida, she was definitely a fan of me and my spasmodic lifestyle.
"Wakko Ishara's mamētu me eda, other mamētu me eda, is Temujin, Great Khan of the Reborn Mongol-Turkish Khanate and ally of the Host," Saint Marie let them know. "They are bonded by Cáel risking his own life to save Temujin's. It is actually a privately understood and publically declared fact."
"In Temujin's words to the international press when our Cáel and our new Queen were kidnapped : I believe Cáel is still alive. If he wasn't, we would be seeing piles upon piles of dead enemy around him and his 'boon companion', clearly visible from orbit. Until they discover this carnal pit from Hell, I am sure they are both still alive," Oneida added. Rhada flashed ill-distilled hate her way.
"Shawnee, is your Apprentice's mind addled with the birthing hormones of their child?" Mahdi snipped. That was merely a cultural zing, not an attempt to expose my sinister erotic misdoings. Unfortunately, she was somewhat correct. Okay, she was totally correct.
"That was uncalled for," Shawnee graciously chided Mahdi, thus demonstrating her ignorance of the facts soon to be in evidence.
"Yes, I am carrying a child of Arinniti and Ishara," Oneida proclaimed loud and proud. "We share a Warrior's Love."
I wasn't really sure how anyone else reacted to the news because House Ishara exploded into violence. That is the politic way of saying Daphne and Juanita were trying to stop Buffy from beating me to death. Here was yet another Ishara-baby and it wasn't gestating inside her. I was too stunned to defend myself.
And the old refrain: 'and then it got worse'.
"Ta ah kattanda!" (IN HITTITE for 'you pig's ass'), Rhada howled. I missed her drawing her blade, vaulting to the top of the table and lunging at Oneida. Most of the Amazons in the room stood, yet held their ground.
They weren't shocked into indecisiveness, only trying to understand the nature of the conflict before intervening. This was not the first 'your Amazon did something my Amazon found infuriating' public threat they had to have dealt with. Rhada was more volatile than the average woman of her breed and station, true, but a violent in-chamber assault?
That wasn't the 'worse' though. Oneida drawing her blade in an open challenge to Rhada wasn't the worse either, nor was her shouting.
"He loves me! He merely saved you!"
Saint Marie yelling 'Ishara! Ishara!' over and over again, demanding I put my house back in order wasn't the end of my woes, nope.
Me being yanked free of my House fur-ball into the volcanic gaze of Elsa as she seethed, "Rhada?" Oh yeah, Elsa's people and Rhada's people had a bit of a blood feud going on, how could I have forgotten that?
But wait!
"Not Fabiola!" gasped Messina, bizarrely assuming I slept with, okay, not such a huge assumption.
"Gael?" voiced by the Head of House Bendis, followed by Gael's "I'm late."
"Damn it!" I pulled away from Elsa (slightly).
"No. She only lets me ejaculate on 'safe days'," to Messina, Fabiola's Mom.
"Oh, come on! We had sex one time!" to Gael of Bendis, and finally,
"Stop it!" to Rhada and Oneida, (deep breathe). "Really?" with my most believable happy face plastered on. "This is great news!"
No. No it wasn't, and I could read the ugly emotional undercurrents on the faces of everyone present, except Aya, who kept the faith.
"Ishara," Saint Marie rumbled. I held up one finger to forestall her wrath.
"Oneida, Rhada and I have already decided to name our daughter Parvati. My daughter by Tad fi, ordained by the Goddess to be the first born, will be named Shala while my first son will be called Harki heni (White Hair, I'd call him Raider when we were in the 'outside' world)."
"My daughter by Miyako Yuri will be named Suwais-urāni, Fushichou in her Mother's tongue, in honor of Sakuniyas. My, other relationships," I would have liked to say 'none of your business', except Amazon mothers, or not, those children would be of Ishara's blood and potentially their kin.
"Hana and I are still thinking over names, the other three cases are, perhaps more complicated than we should get into this morning," I finished off. Yeah, my Illuminati aunt, the Hashashin advisor and my Seven Pillars' 'kidnapper turned Prisoner of War' cases.
Once the two crazy chicks (Buffy and Rhada) were contained, things quieted down quickly. I was left with the opportunity to immediately make things worse. There were four angry Amazons, yet only one in urgent need of succor. I pulled away from Elsa successfully this time. Her emotional focus on me couldn't withstand the volatility washing over the scene. She'd make me pay for it later.
"Buffy, I'm am all yours in 30 minutes," I touched her cheek. Juanita and Daphne didn't release her and I couldn't wait around for her blistering response.
"Oneida, please call me this afternoon so we can look to our next steps," I gave her my best 'I'm so Happy everyone knows about our shared Warrior's Love', because lying was my only option at that second.
I walked straight into the frothing Rhada. My arms wrapped her up. As I pressed in, she collapsed on to me. The two Amazons, the Head and Apprentice of House Nammu, released her into my care. Rhada's sobs disturbed everyone present. They weren't thinking 'he's broken her'. Had they felt that way, I would have been attacked.
No, they were worried that Rhada, like too many of their daughters, was 'weak' in the mind. I curled her body into mine as I went to the floor. As few people as possible around us needed to participate in our 'private' moment. Mahdi was coming around the table rapidly. I had to move fast.
"Hey," I whispered to her. "You have a knife. Why are you not stabbing me?"
"I am shattered inside," she sobbed.
"No, no, you don't," I kissed her forehead, aborting her pity party. "Get up right now, or no more kitten showers for you." Rhada jolted. I had blindfolded and bound her, then let kittens lick her body. Afterwards, we had shared our first shower together.
"What," hissed Mahdi. I had visions of Day #2 on the job and her whipping me with my own belt.
"Rhada has been protecting me since the day we first met," I looked up into Mahdi's eyes. "She has been making sure I didn't flee after I knew your secret, though it took Oneida to explain to us why it was so. Right Oneida?"
I didn't look at Oneida. I gave her no hint on how to proceed. I'm a horrible influence on the hearts and minds of true romantics.
"Yes. I once found them in combat. I also misunderstood Rhada's desires, yet attest to my sister's fierceness," Oneida backed me up. "We continue to disagree over where Cáel’s attentions are best directed," she tacked on. Whoops.
"I should have," Rhada mumbled. Her next words would have been 'killed you,' so I smothered her lips with a kiss. As I pulled her head back I mouthed 'stab me'. Rhada stabbed me. I winced.
"Fuck," I grunted.
"You stabbed him!" the Apprentice of Nammu declared.
"He has left himself vulnerable," Rhada sniffled. "He should know better by now."
"You are teaching him?" she and Mahdi queried at the same time.
"He's a male," Rhada answered with more confidence and affection. She also snuck me a smile. Yep, I had masked her vulnerability with my own ~ silly male. Did anyone buy our deception? Not hardly. Once more it was a case of the lie you prefer over the obvious evidence. It was good to have friends too.
"Cáel Wakko Ishara," Beyoncé spoke up, "how many heirs to Ishara are there now and what happened to the 'no-sex for the first 84 days' policy?"
I grabbed the proffered social lifeline with gusto. I regained my feet, pulling Rhada up with me.
"Ten," I looked over to Gael of House Bendis, "Eleven. As for the 84 Day Rule, I am a reprehensible human being, the Poster Child for unreliable males everywhere, glib of tongue and when I find a woman I resonate with, I can't stay away." Ah yes, me and my old literary favorite resonate.
"He's been lying to us," "ten?" and "what does resonate mean?"
"Best Daddy Ever!" Queen Aya declared in her piping faerie voice.
"Wait!" one woman's scream overwhelmed the others. It was Febe Mielikki. "Is this what you do to our enemies? Tear them apart from inside?" She was looking at me.
"Yes, it is (a lie, well, such things were her job, not mine)," Katrina nodded. "He is far harder on them. Witness the piles of dead he has lain before us in defense of our children, in revenge of the Hylonome and to protect our Queen. Ask the Seven Pillars and Condottieri how much they hate and fear the name Ishara over all other Amazon Houses. Better yet, ask a member of the Earth & Sky, or Nine Clans if they would unite our forces against our enemies without the clever council of Ishara."
That last sentence might have been scoffed at, it certainly was derided with snorts and sneers by many initially. Then those Amazons saw the grim acceptance on the faces of their House sisters based in Africa, India and Indonesia, the front lines of the struggle. To them, the Alliance with the 9 Clans was fresh on their minds and deemed critical to any hope of success.
The seizure of the PRC's South China Sea island bases had been a combined effort of the Black Lotus, three Amazon houses and the E&S. The theft of the nuclear aircraft carrier had been a combination of the same factors with even greater risk of exposure, yet none denied the morale boost which permeated the Host because of the humiliation their warriors had heaped upon the Seven Pillars.
The trust their sisters had exhibited toward non-Amazons was appalling to the skeptical, although obviously necessary in hindsight. After all, defending your freeholds was important, yet every Amazon knew you won wars on the offensive, attacking, killing and seizing things from your enemies was the pathway to victory.
"We cannot ask Ajax," Rhada turned to Mahdi. "Cáel killed him for us."
"Did you really kill Ajax," Mahdi's eyes burrowed through my soul, "the way we were told you did?"
"Did I feed him to the Goddess SzelAnya?" I looked to make sure this was the version of events Saint Marie had conveyed to the Council. It was.
"Yes. I swear to you all, but it would not have been possible if Kwenhamai had not rekindled her love for her people and Bolu of Illuyankamunus had not remained steadfast and loyal when the rest of the Host betrayed him. Eternal love and deathless loyalty had as much to do with the death of Ajax as SzelAnya's might and any cleverness I can lay claim to."
"In truth, Ajax should have feared the Amazons. 3000 years ago, he belittled, betrayed and humiliated us. In turn, we tricked him into his own death. When given a second chance at life, he did the last thing any Amazon would do, he repeated the exact same mistake and paid for it with his life, again. Amazon love, loyalty, strength and wit are as strong today as they've ever been. He didn't learn from his mistakes; that is the real reason he's dead."
"150 words to basically say 'yes'," Saint Marie muttered.
"Those are the words of an Ash Man," Oneida sighed amorously. Saint Marie was correct. I could have used one word instead of one hundred and fifty. I didn't because of people not yet present in this room. Every word spoken in Council was officially recorded unless the Keeper of Records was told to 'commit it to the nothingness'. From this day forth, when young Amazons girls would be told the stories about our most recent wars they would hear about the Slaughter of the Hylonome and the vengeance visited upon their slayers.
Sure, I'd play a prominent role. Ajax's return was intertwined with the return of House Ishara and that meant me, Cáel, Vranus' heir. SzelAnya would get the credit for the kill, which would make everyone happy. An Amazon Queen couldn't even land a blow on him three thousand years ago, so a male Amazon having to feed him to a goddess was just fine in their book. Bizarrely, 'clever tricky' men were okay. It was the macho heroes which gave them problems.
Now, with my hastily conjured prose, I had reminded everyone Kwenhamai was there as well. At the Seven Skulls, she had begun her path to redemption. Amazons were big on killing traitors, not rehabilitating them. Without Kwenhamai's betrayal of Ajax to me, there would have been no revenge and no birth of House SzelAnya.
When those Amazon lore-mistresses repeated my words in the future, their daughters would ask, 'Who was Bolu of Illuyankamunus?'
And then the lore-mistresses would have to say, 'Bolu was an Ash Man and it was his devotion and that of his descendants which brought SzelAnya to fight at Cáel’s side that day.'
Fuck it all. He deserved at least a mention for all his courage and devotion. I had to believe when the Arinniti handed him their three sons and his orders, he knew something wasn't right. Vranus was a young man and gripped by the immediate desperation of his people.
Bolu though, was a seasoned fighter. More to the point, by his mid-thirties, he was a senior member of his House and most certainly his voice had been heard around the council fires of the Illuyankamunus.
In that moment, as the Arinniti spoke, did he want to confer with the elders of his House first? Did he ask about any of his own sons, or daughters? He was certainly old enough to have had a few. Or, did he look into their eyes and know the truth?
You have butchered my sons and nephews, and my daughters and my sisters let them die.
And then he carried out his mission anyway. Because he was an Amazon and, unlike his sisters, he would never surrender to despair, no matter how grim the outlook, or heavy the odds. Unable to save his own offspring, he saved the three children of Arinniti and the one young warrior of Ishara. From Dot Ishara's own description, old Vranus wasn't terribly bright, yet the five had survived.
Hell, they'd thrived. 2600 years later, Bolu's actions had not only saved the true House Illuyankamunus, now SzelAnya, he'd saved House Ishara too, and through me, House Anat, Saku, and the Royal House of the Amazons through Kwenhamai and Aya,
And he'd lived long enough to have another family and teach them to be good little Amazons, even passing on the Hittite cuneiform in their religious practices.
I couldn't imagine his final night before taking himself to the cliffs. Would he die alone without a Goddess and ancestors to welcome him? Would the religion he had passed on to his children be a lie? It hadn't. He was no augur. He had no way beyond faith to be sure. Still, he jumped. Generation after generation had taken themselves to the cliffs after him as well, proving his lessons had taken hold. For all that and more, I could give him a mention in our official records, his fierce determination reaching thru the millennia, guiding me to my rendezvous with Ajax.
"To answer the question which led us to this, revelation," Krasimira interjected. "The phrase is Meikkiz Kisetta! That is the formal greeting of Amazons to their Queen."
'Meikkiz Kisetta' meant 'from many become one'; the ancient Amazon pledge which I felt had been echoed many centuries later, All for one and one for all.
"Meikkiz Kisetta!" they repeated.
"Thank the Goddesses," Saint Marie groaned. "Meeting adjourned."
Thank you for remembering:
"Krasimira, a moment in private?" I requested as soon as the council meeting was concluded. She nodded. We walked side by side out of the chamber and into the hall. When the noises of the others grew muted, I dismissed Buffy, Juanita and Daphne. Krasimira motioned her followers to give us room as well.
"Two things," I exhaled. I placed a hand on her upper arm, stroking it affectionately. I doubt she'd ever beheld the gesture before. She was uncertain.
"First, thank you. Thank you for all that you and the other Keepers have done down through the ages. Thank you for the loneliness you have endured. I will take the reason for my thanks to the grave. You have been right. No one else should ever know."
"Secondly, I humbly request you tell me 'her' name. I would like to use it when I greet her when I pass. I imagine she hasn't heard it in a long, long time." By 'her' I meant Yakko Ishara. The second question was both a quest to determine if I had guessed right about how things had unfolded and as an indicator that I sympathized with her burden.
"Firstly, you are welcome. Secondly, whose name are you referring to?" she smiled. Yep, I was right.
"It is okay."
"Thank you, Ishara. If I give you a fortune cookie to give to your goddess, will it remained unopened except for her eyes alone?" Krasimira offered.
"Yes."
"I have never given a direct offering to a goddess before," she nodded. "I would like to try. I will have the fortune cookie delivered to you before five o'clock Monday afternoon. Take care, Ishara," she bowed an inch, or two, then slipped past me and left.
Spinning plates:
I walked into my place right before nine. Odette was spending the day with her parents, so I had promised myself a little 'unwinding' time. Sovann, Timothy's Cambodian-American boyfriend, was on the sofa, hair wet, towel around his shoulders and 'boy shorts' underwear on (with nothing else) looked my way. Juanita was right behind me. At least they had met before. The shower was running.
"Hey Sovann," I headed his way. "Good night last night?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "How's life been treating you?"
"Stuff I can't talk about," I grimaced. "Has Timothy talked to you about us getting a new place?"
"Yes," he nodded. "We are both of the opinion you need to keep the few sane friends you have." Ah, the advance in a relationship when the couple starts thinking of one of their friends as a friend of both of them.
"I appreciate it," I grinned. I was about to plop down on the sofa beside him when I recalled my 'company'. "Juanita, can I get you anything?"
"No," she paused then, "what's next on the agenda?"
"I am planning on hanging around for a half hour before calling my neighbor in 3F and inviting her out to brunch. She's done a great deal for me and, since I'm about to move out, I figure I would like to repay her kindness before I go."
"He means 'fuck her'," Juanita sniped. Sovann arched a questioning eyebrow.
"Rough morning meeting," I mumbled. As my ass hit the sofa cushions, the shower cut off. Juanita's displeasure over the revelation of my sexual misadventures earlier this morning was amplified by the idea I might be talking 'shop' with non-Amazons.
I'd talked down Buffy at Havenstone after the meeting. She had official business to take care of, which curtailed her ability to make my life miserable at the moment, so Juanita felt obliged to take over those duties. I had about had it with that shit. I was reordering my thoughts for the umpteenth time since Aya had become Queen and I'd become a Father ten times over when Timothy came out, a towel around his waist.
One look told him something was wrong with my soul.
"Bro," he murmured. I stood up as he approached. He wrapped me up in a hug. Sovann joined us a few seconds later. After a bit Timothy pulled back. "What can you tell me?"
"They screwed Aya over big time," I sighed, "and I'm going to be a dad more than once. Everyone woman I know is either too good for me, or violently-bitchy fucking nuts." Sovann stole a quick glance Juanita's way. Timothy didn't.
"We were planning on catching a 12:30 showing of 'As Above, So Below'. You should come along," Timothy suggested. Normal guy-stuff.
"I could invite the girl in 3F," I amended the offer. "We could do brunch at the Egyptian place first."
"Great," Timothy grinned. "You go ask her and I'll get dressed."
As I was heading for the door, he called out from the bedroom.
"One of your Kazak buddies stopped by after they found out we were moving. They have scouted out a few place for 'their Prince', eight in fact. They left a bundle for us to consider." Ugh. My 'Brother', the Great Khan, had heard I was moving, was currently living like a pauper and decided to do something about it. My 2014 Tax Returns were going to be, interesting.
Juanita tailed me to 3F. I rang the doorbell and waited. Movement, hesitation,
"Hey!" through the door.
"It is Cáel Nyilas from down the hall," I responded. "You've been kind to me on numerous occasions and I've been remiss in thanking you. My roommate, his boyfriend, my 'buddy' and I are going out for brunch and a movie and I'd like it if you could come along. I apologize for the short notice. My life's been a mess recently."
"Oh, OH!" she gasped. "Hold on!" I could make out the sounds of her running around before the door swung open. She was blushing in embarrassment and it wasn't hard to see why. Her place as a pigsty. The girl in 3F was cute, zesty and vibrant ~ 5' 2" and 110 lbs. She was busty, bra-less with dark-coppery hair pulled back in a loose bun and pale skin.
She was wearing a white wife-beater and cut-off jeans, no socks, or shoes. Both were stained. Her place was a mess with discarded fast food containers, pizza boxes, grocery bags, shipping boxes and other such debris lying about.
"Come in. Let me get dressed," she ushered me, us in.
"This is my bodyguard, Juanita. She's going to take a quick peek around then make herself scarce," I tried to smooth things over.
"In this dump?" Juanita scoffed cruelly. "I don't know where to begin."
Blink. The girl in 3F's lower lip trembled and her eyes grew watery. She sniffled. I'd had it with, everybody.
"That is uncalled for," I said in a dead voice as I pivoted toward Juanita. "Go home." Juanita glared. "I don't mean my home. I mean 'home' as in wherever you go when you aren't with me, because you are passed being on my last nerve. Don't call in a replacement either. I've had it with you and your fucking attitude ~ and today, right now, I am pulling rank. Get out of my sight."
"I'll be out in the hallway," Juanita backed away.
"No," I shook my head. "You are not welcome in Ishara's presence for the rest of the day. Your crass words to a person who has only shown me kindness were the last in a long list of insults today which have had a detrimental effect on my quality of life. Go home and contemplate your failure."
She tried to match wills with me with her gaze.
"Let me at least call in a replacement before I go," she retreated.
"No."
"You are being unreasonable."
"Yes I am. A minute ago, you ceased being worthy of an explanation."
"I'm sorry," 3F spoke up. "I didn't mean to make you and your friend get into a fight."
"We aren't fighting," I kept my eyes on Juanita. "She made me a promise to respect my desire to live a somewhat private life. The way she treated you is showing the utmost disrespect to both you and me. She assumed no matter how horrible her behavior, I would stomach it. And I'm letting her know she's mistaken. Good-bye Juanita."
"Don't do this, Ishara," Juanita tried to guilt me by authority.
"You should have thought over your obligation to our House before you opened your damn mouth and insulted my neighbor, Juanita. The next words out of your mouth will be taken as an assault on my prestige." Basically, a 'fuck-you' to Juanita for being a bitch and then trying to guilt me out of over me punishing her over lousy attitude. By sending her away, I was punishing her, there was no doubt of that in my mind.
The agreement I had with my bodyguards was simple, I accepted the necessity of their presence because my life really was in danger and they accepted I wished to maintain some illusion of normalcy. Juanita crossed the line, again, and I'd had enough, so now no Isharan was going to be around to both protect me and intrude on my normalcy and I was forcing the responsibility for my decision on both of us, because it was her fucking fault.
Juanita bowed slightly, turned and left. Oh, she'd be calling this in. The difference was, she'd have to explain I was furious and why I was furious and that would make Buffy furious with her. And deep down, Juanita knew she was in the wrong. The next bodyguard(s) to show up would either be highly discrete, or someone I couldn't easily shove away.
I had an immediate emotional crisis to deal with.
"I," the girl in 3F mumbled, looking at everything, but me.
"Ya know, your decision to give the maid the week off was really inopportune," I grinned at her.
"Ah?" She was stumped.
"I owe you a favor, or three, don't I?" I inquired.
"You don't have to look at it that way," she evaded verbally while making eye contact.
"Deal," I widened my smile. "We are going out to the Egyptian place a few blocks over. Get dressed. While you are doing so, I'm going to go completely OCD on you and pick up your living room. Pretend to be surprised when you come out," I finished with a chuckle.
"You, ah, don't have, ah, to," she worked through the weirdness of it all. My smile won her over.
"Good. Get dressed. I'll call my roommate and his boyfriend to hurry over here and help. Hurry!"
"My place is a mess," she gulped.
"But it won't be, and face it, after seeing me and my bodyguard get into a spat after her 'beyond' rude behavior and my offer to clean up your apartment, today can't get much more bizarre, now can it?"
Yes. Yes it could, but by burying the bizarreness of me and Juanita, I was actually doing her a tangible favor, cleaning up her place, and taking her out with the option for sensuality later.
"Oh, you are right. That was pretty weird," she agreed with an impish smile. "I'll get dressed."
She skipped off to her bedroom. I called Timothy and had him and Sovann hot-foot it over to 3F with a box full of trash bags. Her place was a mess, capital 'M'.
Take an impossibly awkward situation of finding a guy you are sexually curious about, his gay roommate and his gay roommate's boyfriend in your apartment's main room cleaning up the place and turn it into a game. Forty-five minutes later, Theddy (Theodora) wasn't sure why she felt embarrassed about having the three of us over.
We put sixteen extra-large trash bags on the curb along with her old sofa. We gave her our brand new, sleeper-sofa since we would soon be departing. I was also giving her my relatively new bed (we would work out a deal on my suspension equipment). We chiseled her old carpet off the floor, it was beyond gross, tore out her garbage disposal, it was developing intelligent life, and cleaned her bedroom and bathroom too.
All along, we bantered about numerous topics including,
(Sovann) "So what do you do for a living?"
(Theddy) "I'm a sound technician, I dub for, pornos,"
(Me) "My, how bizarre. I love porn. Have you done anything I may have listened to?"
(Theddy) "Maybe, I also sell the soundtracks of your sex-capades." She was blushing, shuffling her feet and looking down as her confession spilled forth.
(...)
(Theddy) "I saw a girl break into your place, but didn't report it. Was that okay?"
(Timothy) "What did she look like?"
(Sovann) "Was she armed?"
(Me) "Hey now!"
(Sovann) "You're right. Stupid question. Of course she was armed."
(Theddy) "Really?"
(Me) "Plenty of women show up to my place unarmed. Odette has never shown up armed. Neither has Brooke, or Libra."
(Timothy) "It is so sad when it is easier for you to name your unarmed girlfriends than your armed ones."
(Me) "It is not that bad."
(Timothy) "Yes it is."
(Me) "No it isn't."
(Sovann) "Yes it is. Shall I name five?"
(Me) "Fine," I hung my head. "Let's not."
(Theddy) "Do you hang out with really deadly women?"
(Me) "Define 'deadly'."
(Timothy) "Yes, he does."
(Sovann) "Bro, it's gotten so bad, Odette started giving a technical critique to the last action movie we watched together."
(Me) "That's not my fault."
(Timothy) "Right. It's your crazy Grandmother's and your buddy in the SAS' faults."
(Me) "Pamela's not really my Grandmother and he's not in the SAS. He's in the SRR. They're totally different."
(Theddy) "I noticed you didn't say she wasn't crazy... and who is the SRR?"
(Timothy) "The British Special Reconnaissance Regiment."
(Me) "They're big map and compass people."
(Sovann) "Like big, delicious Boy Scouts."
(Timothy) "With guns."
(Sovann) "Oh. He had a gun?" and then Timothy threw a coach pillow at him.
(Theddy) "I'm sorry that guy tried to kill you."
Pause as we three looked at each other.
(Timothy) "Which one of us?"
(Me) "Which time?"
(Sovann) "Hang out with Cáel and you'd be surprised how many people show up trying to kill you, or him, or someone else."
(Theddy) "Really?"
The Cult of the Jaguar:
We were walking back from the eatery. They were walking from the direction of Casa dee Timothy, heading our way. There were five Latinos: two girls and three guys. To put it more accurately, there was one lady, one woman and three men. To say it like it was, there was one spirit-creature, one priestess-savant and three foot soldiers.
As previously revealed, the various members of the 9 Clans operated differently. The Cult of the Jaguar operated like a, cult. They had a mess of flunkies at the lowest level, cast-offs, ex-drug users, the insane and those not quite right in the head. Essentially those people operated as a nearly endless supply of cannon-fodder for the Cult's activities and served as a base of worship for the Cult's divinities.
Next up the ladder you had the 'messengers'. Normally, they were not actually part of the cults, instead running the more mundane operations the Cult (big 'C') owned and operated as well as interacting with the various cults (little 'c'). Often 'messengers' worked for the Cult for generations in family businesses with some members not knowing the totality of their involvement with the criminal underworld.
Then you had the priestly caste. Priests, priestesses, savants and priest/ess-savants, the priests and priestesses performed rites, led rituals and ran the organization. Savants, like my Amazon augurs, had mystic powers granted/cursed to them by interactions with supernatural beings.
In the Cult, there were four ways to get your priestly caste. You could train them. Some divinities had schools who trained their leadership up from a young age. Like any other profession, you learned and progressed as you grew older.
Or, a divinity could 'imprint' the knowledge in you. I understood those priest and priestesses burned out rather rapidly. Less we forget, this was a cabal of ruthless killers we are talking about.
You could also create a savant in the same method ~ spiritually twist some poor soul to serve a purpose. Their life expectancy wasn't worth writing home about.
Or, you could breed them, yeah. Breeding people with supernatural horrors, and these were my allies. Of course, being walking-talking abominations to the Weave had its own psychological pitfalls,
And, at the top of the individual cults were things like the 'lady' coming at me right now. I'd been briefed about them and theorized I could make one out for what it really was because of my own mixed-up noggin, and I was right. Heading up each individual cult in the Cult of the Jaguar were avatars for the various divinities within the Cult pantheon.
Despite its name, the Cult of the Jaguar was not devoted to the jaguar (the animal), or even the Jaguar God (alone). It was an amalgamation of various Northern and Southern Native American divinities ~ okay fucking Nasty ass divinities who feasted on death to keep a toe-hold in our reality. They had not gotten along with Christianity, nor agreed with the Weave's verdict that their time had passed.
The Weave's response was pretty clear. It had things like measles and smallpox to undercut those divinities' worship base to which these powers had no counter. Every other pantheon had retired into legend, like the Amazon Goddesses, or behind layers of mundane ritual, like the Hindi. These guys, and gals, refused to accept the message and still practiced that Old Time Religion.
How they ended up in the 9 Clans wasn't explained to me. They killed people, that was for damn sure. The only true assassins were the cult leaders. Of all the 9 Clans, they were the worst. No person had ever survived having a contract accepted by the Cult of the Jaguar, no amount of hiding, running, or fighting back had ever saved anyone. They always killed their targets. Always.
The reason was their leaders weren't human. They were monsters, think Grendel from Beowulf's Saga. Sure they looked human on the outside. Somewhere around the tenth shotgun blast to the face, they looked a whole lot less human, but that didn't stop them. According to my Alal-knowledge, you dismembered it rapidly (they healed pretty quick) and then burned the severed bits. He'd done it before, to more than one of them, just not this one, 'cause it wasn't like any of those creatures stayed dead, or forgave, or forgot a damn thing. Oh joy. Me, him and our extremely distinctive emerald-green eyes.
As a final note: technically the Cult of the Jaguar controlled all 9 Clans' territory in North and South America. In actuality: in Canada, they let the Brotherhood of the Wolf establish bases. In the US east of the Mississippi and north of the Gulf, they allowed the Black Hand and Brotherhood to work. In Brazil and the Caribbean, they allowed the Coils of the Serpent to set up shop. All three did so knowing they operated under sufferance of the Cult and the Cult didn't fuck around.
So, why didn't they send a representative to my Father's funeral? They had no clue who he was, or how things would turn out. Send the head of a cult? Dad wasn't worthy enough. (Recall, the Earth & Sky sent Iskender, not someone of note at the time.) Sending a mere 'messenger' would have been insulting to the Amazons. Instead, they let the other 9 Clans handle it, and look how that turned out. Or, I'm a fucking idiot.
And back to me:
No one outside the Cult of the Jaguar knew the precise number of composite cults made up the organization, but many of the divinities had a history. I was looking at, the Obsidian Butterfly, okay ~ a walking patch of starless night in the form of a constantly mutating voluptuous, hourglass-shaped woman, bipedal bat and eight-winged butterfly.
A quick mental 'background check' matched to her image gave me a name, Ītzpāpālōtl, so the wacked-out side-kick had to be her half-human 'daughter'. I had a feeling the various divinities didn't share offspring much, considering the spiritual investment actually breeding one took.
"Bro," Timothy whispered. "Freaky-looking chick staring our way."
"Yeah. I'm afraid so," I agreed. I subtly snuck an arm around Theddy who had picked up on our changing tone of conversation.
"I think we can take them," Sovann noted after studying them a moment.
"Let me clarify things for you," I snorted. "Tricycle, tricycle, tricycle, 4x4, Land Leviathan."
Yeah, we could kick the three guys' asses. Their basic brutality couldn't compensate for Sovann and Timothy's courage, bulk and brawling expertise. They were essentially for show anyway. The priestess-savant looked pretty young ~ say 19 to 23 ~ and fit, but not martially adept. I could take her. Timothy, or Sovann probably could take her, being bigger and stronger. The avatar was utterly deceptive in her lethality. None of us stood a chance against such a creature.
"I feel weird," Theddy shivered. She pressed tightly against me.
"Ever had a near-death experience?" I asked while keeping my eyes forward.
"Yeah. How did you know it felt like that?" Theddy looked up at me. I was peripherally aware of her head movement.
"Call it a hunch."
"That chick is seriously weirding me out," Sovann muttered.
"And she's looking pissed," Timothy added.
Oh yeah. She was probably trying to mystically scope me out and getting nowhere, thanks to Dot Ishara. Bitch (not Dot). We were closing with their group fast. I had to think faster.
"Take this," I handed Theddy my food container. I drew forth my phone and called my No. 5, no 6, no No. 7 Go-To Gal.
"Estere," I opened up. Estere Abed, the Hashashin assassin and current 9 Clans liaison with JIKIT.
"Yes Cáel?"
"Did you send someone to meet with me?"
"Yes. Per your 'office's' request, an emissary should be talking to you momentarily. I was led to believe your schedule had opened up. Is there a problem?"
"Composition of said embassy?"
"I was supposed to be, it isn't a messenger, is it?"
"Nah."
"Are you in danger?"
"Hmm, too late now. Give Buffy a very special 'fuck you very much' in case I never get to see any of you ever again," I jibed.
"Cáel,"
"I've got a not-amused Bat-girl to talk to. Take care. I'll update you later," and I hung up. What else could either of us say? To get around my pique and still protect me, Buffy had sent in the 9 Clans to chat with me, not understanding the nature of the chatters. In the past, Estere and Miyako had both protected me and calmed me down. Oh well.
"Cáel Wakko Ishara," the 'lady' greeted me.
"Yep. This is Timothy, Sovann and Theddy. We are on our way to see 'As Above, So Below'." I took the initiative. She was confused. "It's a movie."
"That is not why,"
"Listen," I cut her off. "I apologize in advance for my brusque manner, but I'd rather try to ass-fuck a wild rhino than discuss business right now.
"I know who and what you are and I don't care. For the next eighteen hours I'm a 22 year old directionless moron who doesn't want to see things Man was not meant to see, the restless dead, or the look of disappointment on a woman's face. I don't mean to insult you. You are merely on the tail end of a three-month long Conga line which has been stomping all the happiness out of my God-damn life,
"So smile and say 'hey, a movie sounds like a great idea' and join us,
"Let us go on our way for now while promising me endless agony later like every other fucking divine bitch in my life,
"Or give me thirty seconds to say good-bye to these nice normal people then I'm going to draw down on your merry little band of murderers and you're going to kill me, or I'm going to kill the rest and seriously inconvenience you.
"Now, has anything I said been unclear and, if not, can I please have my answer now? The movie starts in 30 minutes and I don't want to miss any of the previews."
"Teoyotlni?" she exhaled extenuating sexual menace. No, she had not given us her name. Nah, in the Olmec-derivative she was speaking, she had asked me 'do you know I am a goddess?' One word ~ cool.
"Acampa nic catzahuacatlhuatl cuel cuitlananaca," I responded smoothly. Loosely translated as no one in my shitty world gives a crap right now.
Now I knew why Alal knew their lingo.
What kind of body was he walking around in at this moment? It wasn't mine, my aunts claimed it wasn't his original one and Pamela had noted it wasn't right, the one time she'd met Alal since his return, and here I was looking at an avatar, which is basically a spirit made flesh. Fuck a duck. Somehow, somewhere along the line, Grandpa had figured out the mystic trick these divinities used. Probably through the judicious use of torture, because that's the kind of role model he was, the Fucktard.
He didn't have their full range of supernatural powers, so his 'avatar solution' was temporary at best. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I still had this problem at hand. A little body politics was going on. The 9 Clans delegation had stopped, but the avatar kept coming. Timothy knew better and Theddy was rightly terrified for no obvious reason. Sovann decided he had to do something.
"I know you are having a bad day," he quietly chastised me as he tried to step forward to confront the woman. Timothy's powerful arm slammed out like a crosswalk bar, stopping his progress.
"Don't," was all he said. The intensity of his tone was enough. I pushed Theddy away and to my rear. There was a blind, deaf-mute across town in a coma who knew this bitch was furious with me, him and about a million other New Yorkers. No one talked to her the way I had done, horrible-fucking day be damned, and lived long enough to joke about it.
The priestess-savant was distressed, not angry. Her guiding light in life was focused elsewhere. The three goons were equally adrift, yet their minimal attachment to social normalcy left them uncertain.
To be continued.
By FinalStand for Literotica.