Clockwork Goddess (The Lesbia Chronicles) (6 page)

"Sit down, Liz," Ayla ordered. "I have something to clean that wound."

"I cannot sit," Liz complained. "Because someone beat me."

"You can sit and you will," Ayla said. "You have the choice of this bed or a hard stool."

Grumbling, Liz lowered her bottom gingerly onto Kira's bed. She winced as she put her weight fully down. "There is not a part of me that does not sting," she said morosely. "But I will suffer for Ariadne as much as she calls for me to suffer."

"I hope you are a glutton for suffering then," Kira said. "Ariadne knows how to cause great suffering. It is her stock and trade."

"You too are an ingrate!" Liz's ire sparked. "There is not a single true believer here."

"We know Ariadne," Aeron said, her voice gravelly. "You imagine her. Who is the true believer?"

"I am," Liz insisted. "Because I believe through faith. You only have knowledge. It is a poor substitute."

For a second, all tension between Aeron, Kira and Ayla was lost as the three women exchanged incredulous looks.

"You see now why she sustains such punishments," Ayla sighed, taking a little water from the washstand and mixing several ground herbs into it.

"I do," Kira agreed. "You need to wake up and realize what it is you are worshiping," she informed Liz.

"Ariadne. Mother of witches. She who commands the winds," Liz said. "I know who I worship."

Aeron ran her tongue over her teeth as if tasting the last remnants of Liz's blood. Her gaze was more predatory than the others, but if she wanted to taste more she did not show it. Her posture was restraint itself as Ayla tended Liz's minor wounds.

"Oh Ariadne," Liz began. "Deliver me from the clutches of your enemies..."

"You are in the camp of her army," Kira interrupted. "If you want to be amidst her enemies, go to Clitera City."

"Deliver me from the clutches of your enemies," Liz repeated. "And punish those who would sully your name..."

"If you knew Ariadne at all, you would know she does not care for prayers - and she certainly does not answer them."

"Those who speak ill of you will one day know your wrath," Liz continued, bowing her head piously. "For you are the goddess of wind and rain, you are the smiling face which lights the way..."

Kira's snort of amusement interrupted Liz's prayer once more.

"Excuse me," Liz said. "Do you have no respect for religious ritual? I am
trying
to pray."

Ayla raised a brow at Kira and smiled a little, shaking her head. Kira was too amused to be annoyed at being lectured by the scrap of a spy who was no spy at all, but rather a pilgrim of sorts.

"Dearest Ariadne," Liz began again. "Hear these, my words as they go unto you from me. May your victories be victorious, may your meats be well salted and may nobody bite you for no reason whatsoever."

"I had reason," Aeron interjected. "I mistook you for a threat."

"You had already caught me," Liz said. "I was never going to harm you."

"I had to bite you to be sure."

"You bit her because you cannot control your impulses," Kira said, turning to her soldier. "It is the same reason you dared strike me."

"Enough, please," Ayla said. "There are a dozen arguments to be made and none of them would solve a single problem. Everybody is talking at cross-purposes."

"Dearest Ariadne," Liz started up once more. "Help Ayla to be able to follow the thread of a simple conversation..."

Ayla's eye twitched. She reached for Liz, but this time Kira stayed her hand.

"Careful," Kira said. "There is nothing to be gained from martyring her. I say we take her to Ariadne, so she might see what it is she worships."

Ayla vetoed the idea with a curt shake of her head. "I would never be so cruel."

As her prayer came to an end, Liz lifted her head, her expression ecstatic. "Ariadne this way comes. I can feel her..."

Outside, the warm breeze picked up and began sweeping through the encampment. It blew the flap of Kira's tent open, clearing the way for the ladies to leave and welcome their divine visitor.

As Ayla, Kira, Aeron and Liz stepped outside, the air shimmered and a beautiful woman with a great crown of golden curls stepped seemingly out of the sun. Her eyes were a bright sky blue and she was clad in threads of silver and gold, her appearance as elegant as it was ethereal. Her features were well formed, filled with wisdom and kindness. She bought with her an overwhelming scent of rose and vanilla.

"Ariadne!" Liz called her name. Ayla put a warning hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

"That is not Ariadne."

"I am Adrianne," the being said. "You called me forth from the sunshine and the breeze." She spread her arms and where her shadow fell, little flowers began to bloom in the dusty dirt.

Liz seemed confused. "I prayed for Ariadne."

"Oh sweetheart," Adrianne said, extending an elegant hand to pat Liz on her braided head. "I'm afraid it takes a very specific sort of power to summon the mother of witches."

"Specifically, it takes power," Vix deadpanned from her hiding place behind Kira's tent where she and Moon peeked out, keeping an eye on the goings on.

It was no surprise Liz didn't hear her. She was too busy being pleased with herself. The fact that she had not summoned Ariadne was of no concern. She had summoned something. Something with an interest in decorating.

Having greeted Liz, Adrianne set to floating about the camp. Wherever she went flowers sprang up, covering military tents in trailing blooms. The once austere camp was soon transformed into a floral glade, rich with greenery and blooms.

Kira was not at all impressed, nor was Aeron. Their expressions were similarly horrified as everything precise and neat turned to riotous color, leaves and vines entwining in weapon racks, covering the bars of prison cages and spreading over everything as far as the eye could see.

Whatever the being was, she seemed to have just one purpose - and she soon fulfilled it. Having turned the military camp into a riotous garden, Adrianne stepped back into the sun and was gone.

"Prayers of all and any kinds are banned from here on out," Kira said crossly, her voice gruff with irritation. "Aeron, gather a party to clean this place up. I want it in shape within the hour, or it will be your hide."

Aeron shot her commander a confused look. "Why not Liz? This is her doing."

"Less questions, more action," Kira snapped.

"Fewer questions," Vix corrected quietly in the background. She was ignored yet again, for Kira was too busy glaring daggers at Aeron.

Sensing a real threat to the continued comfort of her flesh, Aeron soon moved to do Kira's bidding leaving Liz beaming between Kira and Ayla, inordinately proud of the mess she had made.

"I summoned a goddess," she said in hushed, awed tones which reflected not on the majesty of Adrianne, but how impressed she was with herself. "I must be a summoner."

Chapter Eight

Retreating behind the tent, Vix rolled her eyes at Moon. "Can you believe this? The fool thinks she is a summoner. She's not a summoner's fart."

Moon giggled, holding her pipe in her teeth as she struck a fresh light. "Let her have her fun. She's an excellent distraction."

"I'm not sure how much longer I can put up with this," Vix muttered. "That Liz is completely insufferable. She's stupid, that's what she is. So stupid she doesn't even know she's stupid..."

"We have a long way to go, so you better find a way," Moon puffed on her pipe, then offered it to Vix. "Want some?"

"No thank you," Vix said. "Messes up my concentration."

Out in the camp, Aeron had six soldiers dragging flowers and vines out of weapon racks and tents. Kira had returned to her tent, whilst Liz first excitedly proclaimed her powers to Ayla, then remembered that she hated her and wandered off, looking for someone else to tell.

Moon and Vix shuffled further back into their little lair behind Kira's tent, away from the others where they would not be noticed. Smoking and whittling, they passed the time as Aeron's growling and cursing floated through the camp.

There was much work to be done. Moon blended various herbs and smoked them whilst Vix began assembling a contraption. She was soon at a particularly delicate stage of her hengineering, several bits and pieces of carefully carved wood stacked together, interlocking levers and gears turning round and round.

"What are you two doing?" Ayla's smooth tones interrupted their industry. Vix panicked, swept the entire mechanism into her knapsack and sat on it. Across the way, Moon let tendrils of smoke escape her nostrils in a display of perfect unconcern.

"Nothing," Vix said, her mouth dry.

"It doesn't feel like nothing," Ayla said, locking eyes with Vix. "It feels like something."

"What does it feel like?" Moon asked the question cheerfully, flicking her hair back to expose the bare line of her shoulders and breasts.

The distraction did not work on Ayla. She did not so much as glance in Moon's direction. She held Vix's gaze with a gentle intensity which seemed to make Vix's breath come shorter.

"Those clothes suit you much better," the witch observed, one fine brow rising slightly as her gaze dipped to Vix's cleavage. "I wonder why you never wore them before."

"Kira kicked us out with the clothes on our backs," Moon said, giggling playfully. "Or lack thereof."

"Uh," Vix said. "Yeah."

"I see. Makes one wonder what else was hidden." Ayla's tone was not accusatory, it was knowledgeable, which was far worse. She was as intelligent as she was intimidating, standing tall in her robes which swept over the beautiful curves of her statuesque frame.

Vix made a sound that might have been words, but wasn't. Her face was quite pale, her expression downright stricken. She looked about a guilty as any woman could look. All that saved her from spilling her secrets was the fact that she seemed to be unable to get any words out at all.

Ayla bent at the waist and reached out, letting long fingers drift under Vix's chin. Vix shivered softly at her touch, gazing up into the witch's face with an enchanted expression.

"Is there something I should know, Vix, dear?"

Vix managed to shake her head. "No," she whispered.

"Good," Ayla replied, her voice purring softly. "If there was something, and you were trying to hide it from me, that would be naughty. And I think you know what happens to naughty girls."

A bright red blush bloomed instantly across Vix's cheeks. She stared up at Ayla, entranced like a mouse before a snake.

"We're just waiting for further orders," Moon said. "Vix likes to play with her bits and pieces when things are quiet."

"Don't we all." Ayla smiled softly then gracefully turned and walked away, leaving Vix in a fine fettle.

As soon as Ayla was gone, she grabbed her henvention out of her bag and began working on it furiously to try and calm her nerves. After a while of working, she murmured a question down to her fingers. "Have you ever been beaten?"

"What do you mean?" Moon threw her head back and let herb smoke drift into the breeze, arching her back and legs as she laid gracefully amid the tree roots.

Vix looked up again. "I mean, thrashed, whipped, spanked, whatever you want to call what Ayla does. Has that ever happened to you?"

"Oh," Moon said. "Not in a very long time. Have you?"

"No," Vix shook her head vehemently. "Never. I've never been bad."

"You're on the wrong side of the law now," Moon pointed out. "You're on the wrong side of pretty much everybody. It's inevitable that sooner or later, something terrible will befall one or both of us. What Ayla does is nothing compared to the punishments handed out by goddesses and queens."

Vix bit her lower lip and curled up where she sat, making herself small, though not small enough for her liking.

"Don't lose your nerve," Moon said, shaking her hair out. "This is worth it, even if we take a beating or two."

Nodding slowly, Vix agreed. When they'd embarked on their mission, she had known there would be danger. Back then it had been a remote idea of arrows and swords and other things that could be run away from. She had never considered the possibility that she might end up disrobed and vulnerable in a witch's grasp.

For the first time, she was a little bit glad that Liz was there to take some of the heat. She could already hear Liz's voice rising in the distance. It wasn't initially obvious who Liz was yelling at, not until her strident words turned to panicked shrieks.

"I think she just got on Aeron's wrong side," Moon murmured. "She better watch herself, or she's going to be eaten alive."

*****

"This was your fault!" Aeron snapped the words in Liz's face. She had the stricken spy pinned flat on her back for the second time that day, Aeron's tall athletic frame elongated in a display of athletic predation, her pelvis keeping the smaller woman in place. "Get up and get cleaning!"

"Kira!" Liz screamed for the warrior commander. She got the name out once before Aeron's palm clamped over her mouth.

"Keep your lips shut," Aeron growled. "Any trouble I experience, you will experience doubly."

"Right now I have the trouble of your bony hips in my stomach," Liz snapped. "You're heavy for a skinny bitch."

Aeron's lip curled in a snarl. "Your foolish words will end in pain. I have ended many, and I will end you if you cross me."

"You're about to end my uterus," Liz grunted. "Are you trying to plant your seed? Because this isn't how that works."

A low snarl emanated from Aeron and vibrated through Liz. "Are you going to clean this place up?"

"Liz is not accustomed to experiencing consequences for her actions." The two women looked up to discover that Ayla arrived. "Let her up, dear," she instructed Aeron. "She will only slow the clean up down."

"I don't care if she takes until the end of time to do it," Aeron growled. "It is her responsibility. She called something forth and now she seeks to rid herself of the consequences. She is lazy and she is rude, she is frail in body and weak in spirit, she is..."

"Losing sensation from the waist down," Liz grunted. "Seriously. Get off me."

"She is not a worthy foe," Ayla observed. "A giant does not concern herself with ants."

The words reached Aeron through her indignant haze. "She is not worthy," Aeron agreed. She stood up, brushed herself down and returned to her labors without a second look at Liz the unworthy.

"Thanks," Liz said. "I thought she was going to hurt me."

"Go and help clean up," Ayla said firmly. "She was right. This is your doing. Undo it."

"I only do the bidding of Ariadne," Liz sniffed. "The petty concerns of grass and greenery are below me, don't you see? I have the power of those who summon."

"You have the power to take your hands and make good on your mess," Ayla insisted.

But Liz would not listen, and she would not clean. Whilst others toiled, she sashayed away to amuse herself with her own sense of self importance.

"She's trouble," Kira said, coming up by Ayla's elbow. "She needs to be contained. Gagged, preferably. Why don't you use one of your spells and stop her mouth from babbling chaos?"

"She is surprisingly resistant to magic," Ayla said. "And good sense, for that matter. She does not listen and she cannot hear."

"You mean she's deaf?"

"Her ears work well enough," Ayla mused. "But her heart does not. She's curiously... empty."

Kira cocked her head to the side. "Didn't you say something like that to me once?"

"I did," Ayla confirmed. "But in Liz's case, I'm afraid it might be true... or perhaps it is I who am empty. I grow weary of mediating petty disputes," Ayla confessed. "They are never ending. I yearn for solitude, and I will have it when Ariadne is dealt with."

"You do not have to mediate," Kira observed. "You do it out of choice."

"I do it because the only other outcome is bloody conflict, because these women need to know that someone watches over them or they behave recklessly." Ayla's gaze was troubled and her tall frame seemed inexorably weighted toward the earth in spite of how ruthlessly erect she held herself.

"They would likely order themselves if they were left to do so," Kira said. "I maintain control because I have a goal to achieve, and a fighting force requires order. I do not do it because I feel compelled to do so. But you, you run hither and thither, intervening in every little scuffle."

"I certainly do not."

"You are like a hen scurrying after her chicks, and everyone you encounter becomes a chick." Kira's cheeks dimpled. "It is not a bad thing, it simply is. Fighting that impulse will only make you miserable."

The witch tilted her head. The breeze took a few strands of her hair and played with them in eloquent displays of wordless frolic. "When did you become an expert on all things me?"

"I have known you a long time," Kira said. "I was one of your first chicks, remember?"

"I do," Ayla said, a smile of genuine warmth rising to her face. "Things were more simple back then, I think."

"They weren't," Kira immediately disagreed. "We were just younger. And you were yet to love." She put a hand on Ayla's shoulder and squeezed gently. "You need to let yourself grieve for what you have lost."

"I have grieved," Ayla replied. "I have made my peace."

Kira's lips pressed together, thinned with disagreement. "No you have not. You have decided to unleash your wrath on a goddess. You have not begun to grieve."

The witch held herself taller, gaining the few fractions of an inch which would put her above the warrior. "And what are you? A whelp to lecture me on the proper way to live?"

"I say what I see," Kira replied. "You looked after me once, twice, many times. I see the time has come to repay that debt. You will stay with me, wage war alongside me if you must."

"Fight for Ariadne? Never."

"Then simply stay with me," Kira insisted. "And let those around you live as they will. You need not be the final confessor for every scamp and wastrel in the land. Let them find the natural consequences for their mischief. Let yourself breathe."

"I was breathing quite well in my cottage before you sent two to disturb me," Ayla reminded Kira.