chapter 5ish

Her first night was very disorienting. The lights were extinguished earlier than they were in the girls’ quarters, and most of the women spent the hours between final prayers and sleep in the library or studying scrolls in the sleeping room. The silence was oddly distracting, and she spent most of the night lying awake, trying to calm her thoughts.

When she rose in the morning, one of the women pulled her aside. “Don’t worry about the morning prayers; you can’t come into our temple until you’re fully vowed to the service. That will happen at the midday sacrifice, and we’ll come and get you. In the meantime, you should consider attending the prayers in the common temple this morning.”

Sula nodded, and slipped into her rough robe. She pulled a clean shift out of the closet at the end of the room, and passed through the curtains to the bathing room. Most of the women had already taken their baths and gone to prepare for the morning offices, and most of the tubs were occupied by younger girls. Sula could feel their stares, and kept her head down. “She moved to the women’s room yesterday,” she heard one of them whisper. “She’s in it for life now.” “Don’t tell me you’re surprised, no-one would’ve had her now, not when she’s so arrogant. I think she believes she’ll be put into the sky herself if she plays by all the rules.”

She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks, and quickly filled her bucket. She hoped that the clouds of steam would hide her face. After emptying a few buckets into the tub, she drew the heavy curtains and breathed a sigh of relief.

She closed her eyes, and slid down until the water was just below her eyelids. She knew her hair was getting wet, but didn’t care. When the water was beginning to cool, she stood, carefully dried herself, and slipped into the simple shift. It was different than the one she had worn as a novice: it was belted just under her breasts, and the top was fuller. The sleeves were slit at the top, allowing the material to fall freely at the elbow when she lifted her arms. It was made of a bleached material, more tightly woven than the other one, and the train was slightly longer, though not enough to interfere with her movements.

As she entered the women’s quarters, she peered outside for a quick glance at the clock. It was time to go robe for the mid-day prayers, so she quickly put away her bathing things, and headed down the hallway to where she’d been told the robbing room was. When she arrived, she saw that most of the other women were already dressed.

Sula had only seen the priestesses in their full garb once or twice as a child. The novices were rarely allowed to see the others, since they had their own duties, but during special national celebrations, they had been allowed to mingle with the crowds during the ceremony. The priestesses wore pure white robes, unlike the colored robes of the novices, which were tailored to fit their bodies perfectly. Each priestess wore her hair in a mass of braids, interwoven with bright blue cloth and coils of gold. Their faces were coated with heavy gold paint, and they wore armbands made of gold as well. The heavy paint stiffened their faces and made them impassive as they guided her to the center of the room. Sula felt her shift being pulled over her head, then the thick white fabric of the temple robe enclose her. She was gently pushed into a seat, and closed her eyes; her hair was combed until it was smooth and soft, and all the strands disentangled from each other. Many pairs of hands twisted and pulled her hair, until it was braided and pinned in a mass on the top of her head.

“Keep your eyes closed,” she heard Magda whisper. “This will be unpleasant at first, but you’ll become accustomed to it.” She felt the thick paint being smeared over her face; it was plastered across her forehead, covering her eyebrows, and going right to the roots of her hair. Her lips and eyelids were coated, and under her chin down to where her neck joined her skull. There was a hush as the other priestess drew back, and she slowly opened her eyes. Standing cautiously, she brushed her fingertips lightly across her face, feeling the smoothness of the paint. Her fingers moved slowly to her hair, where she explored the intricate traceries of the braids for a few moments. She lowered her hands to her sides, and straightened her back. She heard a few of the priestesses gasp, but couldn’t know what a striking figure she made as she stood there.

The group of women made their way to a small room, lit only by a small skylight in the ceiling. Sula stood in the small circle of light, while the others gathered around her in the warm gloom.

“What is your name?” one of them asked.

“I am Sula, from the House of Lotha. I was raised in the House of Lede. The temple is my home.”

“What do you desire?” Another voice from the darkness; she thought it was the same priestess who had told her to move into the women’s quarters, but she wasn’t sure.

“To live in the house of the gods, and to be at their service, day and night.”

“Will you swear never to leave? To serve here until death takes you from this house?”

“I swear it.”

“By what do you swear?”

Sula took a deep breath, and recited the litany. “By the love of the sacred Twins, by the work of Sembala, by the womb of Ersada, by the bounty of Nestrada, by the spear of Persala, by the breath of Temala. I swear by the beat of my heart, the blood of my body, the hair of my head, the work of my hands, and the breath of my soul, that I will serve faithfully until these shall cease.”

Her voice was shaky when she began, but she was caught up in the rhythm and repetition until her voice rang out clearly in the stone room.

One of the older priestesses stepped into the light, the illumination from above casting her eyes into deep shadow. She carried a small golden vial in one hand; she upended it over her other hand, and a stream of oil splashed into her palm.

She smeared a streak of the oil across Sula’s forehead, and the rich smell of hola herbs filled Sula’s nostrils. The priestess marked sacred signs over Sula’s eyes, lips, ears, heart, hands, belly, and feet with the oil, then poured the rest over her head. The braids soaked it up instantly, gleaming richly with its brilliance.

The priestess set down the vial, then reached forward to embrace Sula, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. The others moved forward and did the same, enveloping her.

A sweet flute slowly began to play, and the priestesses made their way through the stone hallway, and out into the main temple.

The temple where the novices served was not small by any means, but it could not compare to this magnificence, Sula thought. There was no seating here; the magics released by the fully-trained priests and priestesses could not be weakened by the dead weight of observers. The room was circular, and culminated in a dome at the top. There were no columns in here, as in the public temples; nothing impeded the flow of energies, and nothing diverted the flow. Every possible care was taken to ensure the chanelling of the maximum amount of power through the room. The stone wwas highly polished; Sula had heard that a special fleet of servants polished it every night. Reflecteds gleams of gold from the priestesses armbands and hair glanced off the walls, creating an iridescent effect.

Despite their many differences, the two temples had much in common. There were bronze stars set into the floor to mark each priestess’ place, and a intricate bronze circle around the altar to facilitate the movement of the priests. The air smelled faintly of smoke and of water; the mid-day sacrifices were already in place on the altar. Heliotropic flowers were piled in the middle off the altar, along with a few fruits and vegetables. A cup of wine stood in the middle, waiting for the proper moment, when it would be sprinkled as a libation over the offering, before they called down the fire to consume it all.

The sweet flute sounded once more as the priests entered and took their places; Sula smiled as she lifted up her arms. The ritual began.