Life and Times of a Priestess: Ch.10: Love Grows (Part 2 - Section 2)
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By Kurt Rellians
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He was tense tonight, she detected. Something was wrong. He was withdrawn, as if anxious about something. She was used to him being full of confidence and as he had grown used to her, more demanding of her in the bed they usually shared. But tonight there was a trepidation about him which she could not understand. As she soothed his chest and slowly handled his penis with her light touch she talked lazily with him, careful not to tax him, so that his arousal would remain complete. “Have you been working hard today Ravelleon, you seem tired.”
“I always work hard. That is always the life of a General.”
“I know it is. You work too hard. You should try resting more often and let your army have a holiday. Let my people be. It would do all of you much good”, she said, knowing that what she said to him could not do much good. There seemed to be no saving her people from Vanmarian hard work. All she could do was joke. Even if she did persuade her General to rest more and delay his campaigns, there seemed little chance of persuading his government or the other nations to stop.
He ignored her gripes. He was well used to them. She knew he could not rest until this conflict was finished. She knew his belief in what he did for his country.
Ah well, he thought to himself, there was no point in delaying the hour further. Now while they were both relaxed and talking. While she felt the power of his presence and he lay open before her, he would tell her. It was a time for openness and honesty.
“You know I don’t want to live without you don’t you?” he began vaguely.
“Yes,” she answered.
He hesitated, then began again with a different tack. “You have told me from the beginning of our relationship, of your impatience with life in Shanla, your desire to travel and understand the world more, and particularly of your curiosity to see Vanmar and to understand our peoples.”
“Yes?” What was he leading up to with this introduction? She guessed that his mood had been diminished because he had something to say to her, and she sensed that these comments were preparing her for his news. Whatever it was seemed to concern him and her. Perhaps he was going to end this relationship and go ‘back’ to his wife. She had insufficient time to consider his words. He had been reluctant before to be ‘disloyal’ to his wife. Maybe now that he had experienced the love of a Priestess he felt able to dismiss it, returning to his traditional Vanmarian ways. She doubted from what she had sensed in him that he could ever turn his back on the sexual pleasures she had given him, but nonetheless the thought occurred and caused her some mental pain. She too was captured by his love and by his growing sexual prowess. She would be wounded to some degree by his departure. She valued the closeness of this relationship. It provided the closeness with a man which her working services to the ordinary soldiers could never give her, and her relationship with Paul would not have sufficed her on its own.
“I am to leave Dalos for a while. For quite a long while. I have received a new post in Dumis, our capital in Prancir, but it is temporary, for a few months perhaps.” He looked at her squarely in the eyes, bravely revealing the deep influence she held over him. In extreme terms he explained his love again, “I cannot live without you Danella, your touch is what keeps me living. I hope therefore that you might accompany me to live with me in my new post.”
Pausing briefly to ensure she was listening fully, he went on. “I have a spacious house not far from the centre of Dumis. It is set in a garden. You would love it certainly, if you are already impressed by these rooms and offices. You always said you wanted to travel, to see and to understand my country. You will be able to really know my people and to see that they are not as despicable as you think. You will see the splendours of our civilisation, buildings taller and more ornate than any you have in Pirion. Our architects are the best in the world. You will hear and see our operas and musicals, or concerts and symphonies; see our dancers, our plays. I know you like books. I will take you to our libraries, full of all the knowledge of the world and of fictions of all kinds. I will buy you books and clothes. I will take you to dances and introduce you to the ladies of Prancir. And your visit need not be for too many months. I will be back in Pirion before too long and you can return with me. I want you to stay with me. What do you say Danella? Please don’t make me lonely again. You must not give a certain reply now. Consider what I have said and ask me what you will.”
She heard him and was fully aware of what he asked of her. He was offering to be her partner, in Pirionite terms. His declaration was not new to her. Many times he had spoken of her as more important in his life than his wife although he had only known her for two short months. But the other times when he had attempted to persuade her to move in to his rooms had been only an offer to rearrange her current life. She would have gained comfort and convenience alone and lost her life as a Priestess with its close comradeship and shared experience and the range of experience which city and soldiers brought her. Her ‘love’ for Ravelleon was not so strong as to be worth giving up all of that.
This offer was more than the chance to be kept in comfort by him. He offered to take her back to Prancir to be shown to his people in their homeland. It was a strong physical proof of his need for her and she was touched.
“What is this post?” she asked “What higher post can there be in this army of yours than the one you already occupy? Although I do not think I would wish to occupy your position if I were in your shoes. Your soldiers commit much injustice upon my people.”
He told her of the High Command and of the further influence he might have over the conduct of this war. “It might be a good post if you would use it to dissuade your government from the war,” she commented.
“I have told you many times,” he smiled, knowing her moods of patriotism. “I cannot dissuade my government from this war even if I had wanted. Only the people of Prancir may do that, or the government itself, and neither will.”
“And when does this new post begin? How long do I have to consider?”
“Then you will consider my request?” he asked, hoping she would. “Yes I will consider it.”
“Good, I must set sail for Prancir in a week. And you have a week to consider it, although I would prefer your answer sooner so that I may make preparations. But I will give you all the time you may need to make up your mind if it is in favour of me. If you must, tell me at the last minute of my departure, or come to me after days, weeks, months or years. I will be waiting for you wherever I am and I will always be yours.”
“I could wait for you here in Dalos,” she provoked him.
“If you must I will return here in time,” he said, “but I will be miserable if I have to be apart from you”. A sense of excitement pervaded her, but she refused to let it overwhelm her. There were elements of this arrangement which attracted her and others which did not. She would have to think about his offer carefully later, but for the moment she relaxed herself in his arms as she surrendered to his soothing embrace.
She walked back through lit and unlit streets of the city. It was calm. She felt safe now. Despite the fact that this was a conquered city, whose population objected to the soldiers they were obliged to house, there was an acceptance at least within the city that these occupiers were benign as long as the occupied were acquiescent and uncomplaining. The citizens complained behind closed doors but they consorted with the invaders often by day and night, perhaps hoping to persuade them to go away by offering them their civilised values by example.
There were no acts of futile resistance here and no dangerous demonstrations on the streets, which would have provoked only more force. It was not the Pirionite way.
She liked the city, both before the conquest and strangely even now, after its undignified fall and its cowardly collaboration. But she knew there was great strength in its acceptance of the ‘barbarians’ from the young nations across the sea. She knew that the city had taught many a soldier the arts of real civilisation and friendship, and pleasure, to rival the harshness of their own destructive culture. She had taught quite a few of them herself, including their General. But she had to admit that, although they could offer Pirionite culture and they could give the foreigners aspirations, they could do nothing it seemed to change the economic and political machine which had deposited these men on their shores in this way. More men would come and gradually that old culture she was a part of could be gradually washed from the map, and perhaps eventually from the hearts of the people.
Yes, she loved him, of course. But for her love was an easy thing freely given. Her love was genuine, but Prancirians would regard it as ungenuine because it was given to more than one person at a time. She didn’t love every man or woman she had communed with. Love was a stronger word than that, even for Pirionites. Well perhaps, she thought again, there were two types of love. Universal love was the love for all mankind, which always existed for her, alongside lust. But the love she was meaning now was that deeper compassion and attraction which came from knowing a person so well and wanting to be bound closely with him. She had felt that with many men: Ravelleon, Polad, Paul, and even with some women, with Sreela, and with Carel her young protégé, and all those in the past.
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